#like 2 pairs didnt even fit me

[pbpsbff]

tried on pants in a dressing room and didn’t cry is this healing

[the-trans-dragon]

Could a person with mental illness do THIS?

*spends 20 minutes trying to respond to a text, too anxious to commit to a first word such as "Hey" versus "Hi!" versus maybe a unique catchphrase I should incorporate into my personality like "Banjo bonjour!" or, if it would be more logical, "Bonjour banjo!"*

[5-htagonist]

something feels really good about looking in my dresser/closet and only seeing clothes i wear

[beefboyandbabygirl]

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?”

[ilovepaigebueckerss]

the other women.

word count: 886 (kinda short)

pairing: p.b. x reader

summary: After the live incident with Azzi y/n confronts paige.

pt: 2/3 (I think there will be 3 parts idk)

NOT PROOFREAD SO NTM.

i hope yall enjoy thiss. im gonna remake part 1 because it doesnt really fit with this part too well. i mean its good enough for yall to get the plot of the story but ykkk. SO SORRY FOR MAKING AZZI A BAD PERSON YALL ITS FOR THE PLOTTT🙏🙏 tried to do the lil picture thing evb be doing cs i thought it was cute how we feeling?..

-love gabby💋

3RD PERSON

Paige wakes up to an empty bed. She blinks rapidly trying to blink the sleepiness away. Wincing as she feels the hangover coming in. She notices the advil and glass of water on the bedside table you left for her. There was ice in the cup indicating the glass was filled not too long ago.

She doesn’t hesitate to pick up the glass and pills and takes them with one big gulp.

YOUR POV

Whenever you’re mind is too loud you usually vent to Paige and cry in her arms. You couldn’t do that this time so you went for a walk. You honestly had no clue where you were because you were so consumed in your thoughts you lost track of where you were walking.

Youre phone pinged snapping you out of your thoughts.

my fav blonde🖕🏻: Where are you?

You stared at the message not knowing if you should respond or not.

Just out for a walk.

You respond dryly trying to let her know you don’t want to speak to her. You hated confrontation so you didn’t know what you were going to do about the whole Azzi situation.

my fav blondie🖕🏻: Thanks for the advil and water, bug.

You stared at the phone not even realizing you were crying until you saw the tear droplet falling down your screen.

That damn nickname. She had given it to you as a joke when you first started dating and it’s stuck ever since. Whenever she called you it, a wave of comfort rushed through your body. Now it was just making you sad.

“You okay?” you hear a semi-familiar voice call out.

You look up quickly wiping your tears and see this girl from your psychology class. Her name was Addie or something like that.

“Yeah” you manage to croak out.

“You sure? Doesn’t really seem like it.” she says chuckling attempting to lighten the mood.

“Yeah. Thanks for asking.” You say smiling.

She smiles back. She was pretty, she had freckles and was brunette.

“Do you need a ride?” She offers still smiling.

“If its not too much of a bother.” You say embarrassed.

“Ofcourse! Hop in.”

PAIGES POV

Guilt is rushing through my body remembering the events from last night. It all happened so fast and it was a mistake.

my baby: omw home. 🤍 (hearted the msg)

my baby: got a ride from this girl

I smiled seeing her notification.

Theres even a video going around and im just praying y/n didnt see it. She could take it the wrong way. I would have to tell her eventually. She just cant find out through a video on social media.

FLASHBACK: AT THE BAR

STILL PAIGES POV

Azzi was being extra touchy tonight but I just assumed it was the alcohol. I mean she knows I have a girlfriend and she loves her.

“Paige, you look so good” Azzi slurs out running her hand down my chest.

I quickly move her hand off of me. “Thanks Azzi.” I say smiling. She puts her red solo cup up to her mouth “I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight” I say grabbing the drink from her.

“Nooooo” She whines. I just laugh at her drunk antics.

She grabs my face and gets really close. “Never noticed how pretty your eyes were.” She says staring at my eyes.

I just smile awkwardly trying to get out of her grasp. Before I knew it her lips were on mine. I gently push her off me. “Azzi.” I begin. “Paige you know you want me just as much as I want you.” She cuts me off.

“I have a girlfriend. And shes the only girl I want.” I say sharply.

“This is bullshit” She spits, pushing herself off of me.

PRESENT TIME

3RD PERSON

“Thanks for the ride.” Y/n says smiling at the brunette. Who smiles back “Anytime.”

—

Y/n is fumbling with her keys outside of the apartment door trying to find the right one. Once you find the key she puts it in the lock and unlocks the door.

Paige immediately shoots up of the couch and runs to her girlfriend. “Hi babyy.” she says smiling and giving you a hug. “missed you.” she says in your neck.

The feeling of Paige’s breathe on your neck made you shiver.

“Hey.” You couldn’t help but smile, missing Paiges warmth.

You let go of each other and you wander off into the kitchen while Paige goes back to her spot on the couch.

“Hey can we talk?” You manage to say. Paige looks up at you and hums in response already knowing what you’re going to say.

“What happened last night..” You pause and clear your throat “With Azzi?” You say trying to hold back your tears.

“Y/n I promise it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Then what was it Paige.” You snap all your built up anger coming out. “Because it looked like the love of my life cheating on me with her BEST FRIEND.” You say emphasizing the last two words.

“Please let me explain baby.” Paige says, tears pricking her eyes.

“Don’t call me that.” You say coldly.

“You don’t need to explain anything I saw what I needed to see.” You say before Paige could open her mouth to speak.

You walk out of the door not wanting to make the situation worse.

—

thank you for reading mwahh!

[redzie02]

Jongho is starving for your touch and demands your attention

jongho drabble. previous jongho fic

warnings: none/ jongho is baby bear af/ clingy jongho propaganda/ domestic vibes masterlist

Imagine, you got home a few hours ago. The first thing you did was rid yourself of your work clothes in exchange for comfier ones. A loose fitting tee- that you stole from your boyfriend- and some shorts.

The dishes that were left in the sink after breakfast that morning were quickly washed. Floors swept, tables wiped down. Everything was clean and you were free. Free to do what, exactly? Nothing.

Throwing your body onto the couch, you let out a breath, covering your legs with the plush blanket that was gifted to you many years ago.

You scroll through your texts, replying to any you might've missed while cleaning. You spot a few from Jongho.

2:30 pm jongie♡: i miss you. i wanna go home

2:31 pm jongie♡: hongjoong extended practice :(

2:40 pm jongie♡: helloooooo

2:45 pm jongie♡: hello :(

2:49 pm jongie♡: we leave at 3, u better answer me then :(

It was now 2:59 pm. Your lips tugged downward as you read the messages- you shouldn't have silenced your notifications. Idiot mistake. You were about to type until you saw three little dots appear on the screen. You waited for his text.

3 pm jongie♡: heading home now! ...are u there

You replied.

my y/n: yes! sorry i didnt see your texts earlier, bear :(

jongie♡: did you die

my y/n: no lol i was cleaning. are u tired? hungry?

jongie♡: tired, yes

jongie♡: hungry, not yet. had some snacks :) got u a croissant

my y/n: UGH I LOVE YOU <3 see u when u get here jongie

jongie♡: u only love me cuz i bring u food :(

my y/n: yes :) now hurry

You scrolled through various apps, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of your dimly lit apartment while you waited for Jongho.

It only took 15 minutes before three quick taps from the door interrupted your scrolling. You opened the door only to be engulfed by a pair of strong arms. You beamed into Jongho's chest. "Hi bear."

Still clutching you in his arms, he walked you backward into the apartment, kicking the door closed with his foot. With his head buried into your neck, he inhaled. "Mmm, you smell so good. Why do you always smell so good?"

"Maybe it's cause I steal your body wash." He chuckled. "You, however, smell like you've been dancing for eight hours."

Jongho lifted his head with disbelief written all over his face. "You can forget about the croissant."

"Wait! What I meant to say was that you should get comfortable and you know, put on some fresh clothes and we can relax together while I eat the croissant my amazing, beautiful boyfriend bought me." You fluttered your eyelashes at him. He had a soft spot for you and you knew that. He almost never says no to you.

Jongho sighed and let go of you to reach into his messenger bag. He feigned reluctance as he passed you the brown paper bag containing the freshly baked croissant. "Here. I'll be back."

"Thank you, baby," you pulled him in for a soft kiss, pressing your lips onto his warm ones. His shoulders relaxed under your touch- tension he didn't even realize he held. He almost whimpered at the feeling, sighing into your mouth. He really did miss you. Jongho just about crumbled when you pulled away, heading back to the couch. "I'll be here."

He groaned but trudged himself to your shared bedroom anyway, grabbing clean clothes, and hopping into the shower soon after.

It was the quickest he had ever showered, not wanting to waste any more time without you in his arms. Yet when he returned to the living room, you had barely even glanced his way. You didn't even comment on his wet hair that you liked so much because you thought it was cute.

Jongho was disappointed, to say the least. Sure, you were here, but all your attention had been taken up by your stupid screen. Oh, how he envied the little device in your hand.

With an audible exhale, he lifted your legs, placed them over his lap, then plopped down on the couch. Your croissant was nowhere to be seen, devoured in a matter of seconds, he assumed. Besides the few tiktoks you had showed him, he sat there, staring at the ceiling. His fingers danced up and down your legs. He massaged your calf. His hands snuck their way up to knead at your soft thighs. He even tickled your foot, but nothing seemed to avert your eyes from your phone.

Jongho puffed his cheeks and blew the air out, bored and frustrated out of his mind. All he wanted was you. All he could think about was being wrapped in your embrace, feeling your body heat mixing with his. It made his skin itch with need.

He sat up suddenly. "Do you hear that?"

You locked your phone, listening for anything that may have been out of the ordinary. "What?" You sat up, a little frightened. "I don’t hear anything."

"Exactly. When was the last time we were alone like this? We have the rest of today and tomorrow to ourselves."

"Jongho, you scared me! I thought someone was breaking in or something," you clutched your chest whilst Jongho laughed at your melodrama. You attempted to poke his sides with your foot, but he caught your ankle. "Not funny," you whined. "What do you wanna do?"

"I’m not sure. What are you up for?" Satisfied he caught your attention, he brought your leg up, placing a gentle kiss on your ankle.

"Welp, as of right now? Absolutely nothing." You stretched and let out an ahh and shifted your gaze back to your phone.

Jongho frowned and leaned forward, snatching your phone and stuffing it between the cushions.

“Hey!”

"It’s just me and you and all you wanna do is use your phone! What about me?" His bottom lip jutted out further than before and his eyes were round and shiny.

You would take a picture if your phone wasn’t being squished in the couch.

You held your arms out for him. "Come here."

He tossed one of your legs over his side and settled himself between them, his head now resting on your shoulder. His damp hair lightly grazed your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You threaded your fingers through his dark locks.

"I miss you," he softly spoke.

"I'm right here, baby. I'm sorry I wasn't giving you my attention."

"It's okay, I know- just...hold me." And you did. You wrapped your legs around him and held him as tightly as you could to your body. Tender kisses were placed on his forehead. Your hands refused to settle as they roamed his arms, his back, his face. You felt Jongho's breathing slow down, letting you know that he was falling asleep. You remembered he hadn't eaten dinner, so you gently tapped him a few times.

"Jongho, don't fall asleep, I have to make you dinner."

"No, don't let go. This feels too good." He only snuggled his face deeper between your neck and shoulder, squishing his lips against your skin.

"You have to eat, bear. You've only had what? Breakfast and snacks all day? After hours of practicing the choreos? I love you and I won't let you starve."

"I'd rather starve then let go. I've needed this all day." His words vibrated against your skin, hardly coherent, but you understood nonetheless.

"It'll be quick, I promise, yeah? How does pasta sound?"

He hummed and nodded, slowly getting up. Exhaustion had etched itself onto his face and it made your heart cry out. Before heading towards the kitchen, you leaned down and peppered kisses all over his face. Usually he'd protest at the affection, but he closed his eyes, a small smile forming on his lips. "Just ten minutes, okay?"

a/n: i honestly didnt know where to go with this, i just kept writing lol. reader was hauling ass trying to get that pasta ready btw

[doritochoi]

Forbidden Desire | C.S

pairing: choi san xfem!reader

genre: smut

warnings: unprotected sex, sex in your boss's office, san really likes to fuck you.

word count: 2.3k

A/n : I feel so happy that I finished this story. It's been a while since I last posted, but I'm back. I hope you liked it! Don't forget to leave a comment. Love you guys ❤❤

banner from @cafekitsune

Again a normal day when you had to go to work. It was a really beautiful day, you could see couples holding hands on the street, wondering what was wrong with you, or if someone loves you. After that incident 2 years ago, when your ex-boyfriend cheated on you with your best friend, you don't trust anyone anymore. You swore you'd never fall in love again, until Choi San appeared in your life.

Choi San known as the millionaire from South Korea who maintains many companies, was the dream of many girls. All the girls you saw in the company were obsessed with him and did their best to talk to him. Unfortunately, you also liked him, even more than you think, but you surely thought that he would never look at you. Even if you were his secretary, you still couldn't do anything. Your feelings were growing more and more making you feel sad all the time. Today you were in the elevator, you were looking in the mirror, arranging yourself a little, then you heard a sound, knowing that you reached the floor where you should be. By chance, you saw that your boss's door was a little open, so you stopped to see what was happening. And there was Nancy, that flirty girl who is always in his office trying to get his attention. You ignored that, and went to your office, placing your laptop on the table. While you were working, you were surprised when it was San who entered your office. Usually when he enters your office, he calls you to get ready for important meetings or he needs help with a project, but today was the first day of the week and you were a little shocked to see him in your office. It was definitely something important. You weren't even paying attention to what he was saying. You were just looking at how he was dressed. That white shirt was a little transparent showing a small part of his abs. His pants fit perfectly, and his thighs looked so soft that you wanted to put your hand on them at that moment. Of course he saw how you were looking at him but he didnt said anything. "Did you understand?" , his voice scared you a little, waking you up to reality. Being his secretary, he expected more from you and all you could do was just stare at him. "Miss Y/n?" , the way he pronounced your name made you melt and it wasn't just that, the hands, the fingers, all the parts of his body. You thought what he could do to you with those long fingers. You didn't care about that you weren't paying attention to what he was explaining. Your mind was only full of dirty thoughts and dreams that you would like to fulfill in reality. "I would like to know why you aren't paying attention to me, miss. " , his body leans on your desk and his eyes making eye contact with you waiting for an answer. "I-i was just thinking about something..", he fixed his tie, looking insanely good, then getting ready to answer you. "Something like what?"

The tension was already too high, if he continued leaning on that desk like that you could make a wrong step and you certainly didn't want that to happen, so you stood up, heading for the door. But something unexpected happens. While you were rushing as fast as possible to get out of the same room with San, he grabs your hand and pinned you to the wall, looking into your eyes. He slowly approaches your face, his lips getting extremely close. Thinking he wanted to kiss you, you quickly closed your eyes, but all he did was move closer to your ear, feeling how his full lips touch your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Im sorry, i didn't want to scare you, i just wanted to say that this night were having a date with Park's Company". There is no way that he did all of that just to say this to you, right? Or maybe it was just in your mind. The thing is that he wanted to do this. He had been planning this for a long time, he just didn't know when, and the right moment was right now. There is no business meeting. Yes, Mr. Park will come, but he will find the right moment to tell him to leave so that you two will be alone. It was too obvious that you liked him, he saw how you were arranging yourself, how you were trying to get his attention, but he was waiting for you to make the first move, but you didn't really succeed. "I want you to get ready at 9 pm, and I will come in front of your apartment to take you". You couldn't speak, in fact how could you speak when this wonderful man was standing in front of you.

Time passed very quickly. You put on the most beautiful dress you had in your dresser. A mini black dress that fit perfectly on your body. While you were looking in the mirror and putting a cute accessory in your hair, a sound could be heard from outside. It was none other than San. The fact that you were looking out the window, how he was sitting in the car. One hand on the steering wheel, waiting for you, while looking at the watch on his left hand, turns your legs into jelly. You gulped and looked at how he was dressed. The same white shirt, only 3 buttons were undone, exposing his neck. The leather pants that looked so good on him, his thighs... You were already staring at him too much, so you took your bags and left. Outside, when you walked out the door, he was there waiting for you. He got out of the car approaching you. Now it really looks too good. You could see how his muscles tensed through that shirt. How much you wanted to rip that shirt off, but of course you cant do that. While you were dreaming of all the scenarios that can cross your mind, San gets extremely close to you. His perfume brings you back to reality knowing that he is here, and you are just thinking about the things he could do to you. "Hi", just a simple hi and you couldn't even speak. "Let's go hm?", he waited for your answer a couple of seconds, because you were too stunned to speak. "Uhm.. y-yes", he opens the door for you, and you try to cover your dress a little because it was quite short. When he got into the car, he noticed that you were struggling to put on your seat belt, so he bent down a little, making eye contact, trying to put it on. After that, he realized what you were wearing. Looking at you from top to bottom, licking his lips. "You look so beautiful tonight, Y/n", You didn't say anything, you just blushed and smiled looking at him.

The car ride was quiet, but after one hour in traffic, you arrived at a restaurant. You got out of the car and you already noticed that the restaurant was not an ordinary one like all the others. It was an extremely expensive one, where you couldn't even afford to eat there, but yeah Choi San was rich. He startled you by putting his hand on your shoulder. You quickly turned around and lost your balance making San grab your waist, looking into your eyes. " Oop- are you okay?" ,you nodded and he helped you . "Shall we go?", he took your hand giving you goosebumps. "Yes", you shyly responded and went inside the restaurant. There he was, Mr Park sitting in front of us. He was extremely gorgeous, but not your type. You bet that every girl were trying to get his attention. " Woah i didnt know you will bring this beautiful girl here". San was angry, he didn't know he would act like this, he was trying to hold back from saying something, but apparently Mr. Park wanted to flirt with you. " So whats your name, pretty girl?" ,after he said that, his hand landed on your leg making you flinch, buy you decided to play too. Making San jealous can't go wrong, right?

One hour passed and the meeting already led to something else. You forgot that San was next to you, looking jealous at the two of you. It was almost 11pm and you already started getting ready to leave. San was looking at you, at the movements you were making. How you bent down to adjust your shoes a little seeing your cleavage, but still he didn't find the right moment to do the things he wanted to do. The time has already passed and he had to take you home. Apparently, Mr. Park tricked him. He drove you home, and when you got to bed you thought about what happened today. You can even focus on that power point project he gave you, all of this because of him. You needed him and for sure he needed you too.

The next day you woke up with a headache. Last night you had a dream. You couldn't get out of your mind the position your boss fucked you on his office desk. The way his hands covered your boobs, from time to time leaning down and kissing each one. He was driving you crazy. Not in the dream, but in real life too. You put on your favorite shirt and your mini skirt, underneath you had black panties, just the way you thought he liked them, and a pair of sexy tights. You applied a little make-up, took your bag and left for the company. When you got out of the elevator, you wondered if San had some free time to talk to him, because he always had meeting and he is very busy. You saw Jongho passing by and you went towards him. "Hello Jongho, is Mr Choi in his office?", he answered seeing that you had some files in your hand, thinking that you have to show them to him. "Yes, he just came", "Okay, thanks!".

There you were, in front of his office. You could smell his perfume and he itsn't not even near you. Before opening the door, you undid 2 buttons on your shirt to warm the atmosphere a little. You knocked and opened the door. Just as you expected, Mr Choi was wearing your favorite suit, his hair was neatly arranged looking at the laptop screen, but your presence makes him change his gaze towards you. He looked at you from top to bottom, carefully analyzing the skirt you were wearing. He knew he was something off. " What brings you here, miss Y/n?", the way he pronounced your name made your legs like jelly. "I wanted to talk about the project you gave me..", he looked at you for one more time and motioned for you to come and sit on the chair next to him. "Hm.. let's see what we have here....wait where is that file?, one file was missing and he tries to search it everywhere. Then you saw the file on the floor " Found it!", you said bending under the desk and showing San what is hidden in your cleavage. "Here.", you passed him the file. "What are you doing?" ,he frowned getting up from the chair, you quickly got up too, looking at him with confusion. But actually your plan was going like you wanted. "Nothing", he raises an eyebrow, trying to hide his interest but failing. "What's with the new look?, he smirks. " You are really coming out of your shell lately, aren't you?, he winks at you. "Huh what do you mean?", he grins, moving closer to you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "I mean, i love it, you look so confident and sexy, it drives me crazy.", he whispered in your ear, planting soft kisses down your neck."Tell me love, what is on your mind", his hot breath sending shivers down your spine." You, only you...". San leans down and starts kissing and sucking your neck, leaving love bites. "San...", you moaned putting your tiny hands on his waist, then your hands went lower to his belt, but he stops you smirking at you. "Nah, not now, im not done with you.", he puts his hands between your legs, discovering the black panties that you picked for him, then sits you on the desk, exploring every part of your body with his hands. "I love it when you surprise me, princess". You couldn't do anything, San was fingering you so bad that you wanted to come on his fingers. He sits you up and looks at you. "Bend over", you immediately obey and bend over the desk feeling hands wrap around your hips, pulling you closer to him. He starts to move slowly at first but quickly loses control, unable to hold back his desire for you. He kisses you passionately as he thrusts into you deep and fast, driving both of you closer to the edge. With each thrust, your moans became louder and he can feel himself losing control. He moves his hand to your clit, circling it with his wet fingers to add you pleasure. San couldn't hold back any longer and with a final thrust, he releases himself with a loud moan, watching you moan as well, both of you panting and holding onto each other tightly. He looks down at you with a loving expression and brushes a strand of hair away from your face." I love you so much...", you smiled at him feeling tired. Concern fills San's eyes as he cups your face and kisses your forehead gently. "Aww, my poor baby, you must be exhausted." he wraps his arms around you and try to clean you up .He puts you on the sofa lying down next to you. "Rest now, love. I'll be right here beside you, and no one will disturb us."

[bahrtofane]

matching pjs

Aurélien is just attched to you, literally. stay the night, please?

word count - 1K+

watch it - flulff and fluff and more. loosing my mind here yall this is what a blurry vid does to me

-----

Aurélien has decided that communication is a thing of the past

Don't look at him like that he doesnt wanna hear it. Instead he'll just cozy up to you and trust your instincts to be able to tell what he means.

You don't have it in you to move him aside from his perch glued against you. In full honesty it's rather cute. I mean just look at him, face pressed up against your shoulder while he watches the highlights that play on the living room tv. Hes quite literally pressed up right against you to the point where you can hear every breath he takes. You don't mind, not one bit. 

You showed up not even a full 30 minutes ago, supposed to only stop by to see him before you head to your own home. But seeing as the fluffy oversized blankets have been brought out, you dont think youre going to leave anytime soon.

He shuffles from under the blanket, finding your arm and intertwining his with it, linking hands together. He uses his thumb to trace against your skin, humming softly while his eyes follow the Brazilian team in front of him. 

He hasn't said more than the greeting you got when you walked in. kicking your shoes off and stealing a pair of his slides. Your bag is somewhere, you think in the other living room. It's fine. 

He's been meaning to organize his phone layout, so he handed it over to you when you got cozy on the couch. It's what you've been doing besides giving him kisses. A sleek black and white layout fits him you think, so it's what you've chosen to chip away at.

The widgets are all done, just organizing them now. You make a picture of the both of you at the Bernabeu front and center, smiling while leaning against each other. It makes you smile, blowing air from your nose. 

He peeks over at this, and you tilt the phone. He gives you a nod, resting back on your shoulder.

You get done soon enough. Just 2 pages filled with his most used and essential apps. You've done good work. 

You slide the phone onto his lap, and he peppers the back of your neck in kisses as thanks. 

The highlights have ended now. And he slides from you just an inch to fish for the remote that's gone somewhere. He sighs, brows furrowing and heaving himself off the couch grumbling. You get up with him to help look. 

You find it nestled between two cushions, handing it to him while he gives you a soft look.  

“I think it time for me to head home now.” you sigh.

He pouts, reaching for your hands. You give them, and he gives them a gentle tug.

“I know, but it's getting late and i didnt even bring anything.”

Another pout as he comes closer, biting his lips.

Oh no no no you are not falling for this. He blinks, tilting his head. Youre so gone for him. 

“Please?” his lips part, barely a whisper.

“Fine,” you groan, bringing him for a quick peek. 

He chuckles, padding over to where it looks like dinners been sitting.

“I was um waiting for you to eat.” he scratches the back of his head.

“You should've told me chuchu.”

The nickname makes him look away and instead goes to warm the food while you take a seat at the dinner table, watching him glide around the kitchen.

“Hope you like fish.”

You shrug,”i like anything with you”

He laughs,” you're a sap today.”

“Says you mr I'm going to glue myself against me.”

He waves you off with a spatula, “youre warm what am i supposed to do.”

“Nothing. I like it. It's cute.”

He hums, “potatoes or asparagus. Or both.”

“Both.”

He nods, getting the plates out. 

You drum against the table. 

He sets two steaming plates down and scurries back over for silverware and cups. 

“There you go. “ he sits in the seat across from you, smiling.

“Thank you.”

You eat in relative silence, giggling here and there when he keeps poking leg with yours. 

You offer to do the dishes, which he refuses, but you don't care, racing to the kitchen and cleaning up while he mopes. 

“You can never just relax here huh.”

You shrug, “I want to help out sue me.”

He flicks your arm but lets you go. Going to do his rounds for the night. Feeding his dog checking the locks and cameras and what not. 

He comes back to a sparkling kitchen, food tucked away. You end up finding your bag, slinging over your shoulder while you follow him to bed. 

“I got sweats and t-shirts and pjs for you, take your pick,” he opens his closet for you.

“Don't mind if i do.”

He lets you get changed, going to the bathroom and doing his little routine. 

Your clothes are folded on a shelf in his closet when he gets back. And he's comfy cozy in his pjs. Funny enough you end up with matching pj bottoms. Classic plaid. 

He laughs, “great minds think alike.”

“They really do,” you nod.

You set your alarms for the next morning, plugging your phone in and setting it on his night stand. He mirrors you, doing a last check of his emails and texts. 

“You know the theme is really nice i like the black and white. “

You smile. “Thought you'd like it. I was thinking of all black but it suits you more like this i think.”

He hums, “gonna stay for breakfast?”

You shrug, “probably, you know i suck at saying no to you.”

‘Nah you just love me too much.”

You snort, “that too.”

You slide into bed together, tucking the covers under your chin while you sigh. Waiting for him to slide up beside you, which he does in no time. 

“Thank you for staying. Sleep well love, good night.” he gives you a soft kiss. 

“Mhm,” you mumble against his lips. “Anytime pretty boy. Love you”

You're about to have the best sleep of your life.

[exculis]

i should really get into scarves. i like mindless projects. so of course im always wanting to make shit like hats. and socks. which requires thinking.

just thought 'man i wish i was knitting right now' then i remembered i have a wip in my bag right next to me. not that tho. i wish i was knitting something else.

[anonymouscheeses]

Big fckn redesigns here. Well mostly Charlie but Vaggie somewhat too 🥰🥰

Blue fits Charlie soooo much and I cease to see that many redesigns with this color. I still want red to be used in most of their designs because well. They are in hell, but not too present so to make way for other unique colors. Charlie has several physical traits from her parents but also she has some details in her clothes that match with them. When I uhh, introduce their designs you'll see lmao. I also tried to make her have a more roundish design, I jst LOVE those typ of designs omg. I just want the characters with not too many sharp corners pls Viv bro... 😔 oh yeah she's mixed cuz her mom's are darker in their redesigns. Alot of their genetics went down to Charlie so she doesn't look like an exact copy of Lucifer, I kind of hate that trend with hh and hb characters, like did the moxxies dad give birth to him bro 😭 also I kept her bow because it looks so cute and silly on her it just fits, I wish they made it bigger in her show design because it would fit her silliness so much. She has a cape with stars because morningSTAR smh why didnt they do something fun with that, missed potential but whatevs yknow I still love og designs no matter what anyone sayss. Did you know I love Charlie, I could ramble for days. I think I love Charlie guys. Maybe jst a hunch idk... also... s-snake fangs.. jeepers anddd..... snake tongue.... shiver me timberz

The wife ever. I had animation in mind more when I designed her, not like in a "How easy or hard would this be to animate" way. But I like to imagine when she's shocked her hair kind of fluffs out plus her actual fluff, when she's mad her bow turns into kind of horns and then her jacket expands like wings. Gave her a more hotel like outfit, she likes to work for fun (ew). Her socks are socks but she has some fluff under them she just tries to cover it up because she hates herself 🤪 (she doesn't hate her bigger body she actually feels much more comfortable chubby than when she was skinny with Adam. She was burdened with the weight of Adam's image of women... In this sorta rewrite she gained weight when she goes to the hotel because she's more happy. I'm dying I love chub Vaggie so much guys please) headcanon: she kind of likes fashion, it's like a fun hobby of hers to stitch together clothing and go out and buy clothes she'll never wear. She taught Charlie how to stitch and she SUCKS so you can jst see it on Charlie's pants.

Second outfits! Charlie's hotel uniform for. Well. Hotel stuff. She usually only wears it when new people come to the hotel, which.... isn't often, if at all. She still likes to keep it just in case. Also she goes really cartoonish when it happens, she does the looney tunes run and changes into her clothes in like 2 seconds. Can you see my vision? 😭😭

Vaggie's is in her armor. She has several pairs of armor lying around in the hotel in completely hidden spots. It's kind of surprising uhh. Yeah she wears it alot more than Charlie wears her alt uniform but still rare to find her in it. I don't get the whole thing with the exterminators and them not being able to fight according to Carmilla. Which is kinda stupid, I'm not gonna lie. So, instead of that, Vaggie has just let her guard down and has gotten much more comfortable in her surroundings so she feels like she doesn't need to fight anymore, she's just gotten rusty 's what I'm sayin. I have no idea how to draw armor. You can tell...

Extra below cut vvvv

BABY CHARLIE!!! With the heads of my redesigns for Luci, Eve, and Lillith. Haha you still cant see them. Uhh, ill definitely finish the thing one day. Its not even that big of a project thing, i think i jst keep going to other drawings so im like not focusing on one thing lmao. Lucifer has heterochromia because he was cursed to forever be reminded of his betrayal. I only explained that because Charlie has it too, it's kind of a curse on the entire blood line where at least one eye is red. This is like. Slightly older Charlie than the baby Charlie in show? I jst wanted to put her in overalls cuz omg that's jst so cute ughhh 😭😭

[laniissocool]

starboy

pairing(s): jack champion x actress!fem!reader

warnings: none really ? she/her pronouns, fem reader, cursing, mentions of stabbing and scream VI spoilers i think ? also not proof-read and lowercase intended !

a/n: hi everyone !! so this is my first fic and i do plan on doing a second part. i really am more of a reader than i am a writer so please leave criticism in the replies !! also instead of y/n or reader i use just a blank (___) so let me know if i should change that and i dont know whether this is fluff or angst or like in the middle ? i’d say its a normal story but wtvr !! hope you enjoy !

you made your way onto set. you walked with your tote bag thrown over your shoulder, phone in hand as you walked pretty fast without looking up. knowing how clumsy you were, you were surprised you hadn’t bumped into anything yet. or maybe anyone. you got a text and opened as fast as someone could blink as soon as you saw the name. 

jackkk💫:

R U Coming to set yet?🎥

you:

omw !! ready 4 me 2 stab u ?🔪🔪🩸

jackkk💫:

As ready as I’ll ever be😵‍💫

you asked jack if he wanted you to show him how to turn on all lowercase, but he refused. he said typing like someone’s dad is cool.

you caught yourself smiling at your phone before turning it off and looking around as you walked. 

a few minutes later you made it to your trailer. you walked in and turned on the light, cracking your knuckles then tossing your bag on the small couch you had. you took your phone back out and texted jack.

you:

i’m here in my trailer, come get me ghostface👻👻

seen at 1:14

you thought it was sweet that there was a mutual thing between you and jack where it was completely needed and necessary to end all texts with an emoji, if either of you couldn’t find one you’d have to call or send an audio message.

about an hour later, everyone got their costumes on and ready to film. you were so thankful that the character you played, Elena, gave off the same vibes as you, so, you could dress her yourself. sometimes even with your own clothing. maybe it was your face ? you were very pretty, after all. a kind of rarer pretty, like a magical pretty ? but it definitely was not just your conventional attractive pretty. everyone got on set and you saw jack for the first time that day. you ran up to him and hugged him, your arms wrapped around his waist, in a friendly way. he hugged you back and you pulled away after a few seconds. 

“ y’know, i think you’re a pretty good-looking killer “ you said to him with a soft smirk. 

you guys always flirted with eachother, not even realizing. 

“ why thank you “ he said in a weird accent. 

before you started filming the prop guys had to fix some stuff so you guys got a quick break. you walked over to jack’s trailer, which he wasn’t in and sat down eating some gummies you found in your bag. after a few minutes jack comes inside without making noise since the door was cracked open already. he closes the door behind him silently and sits right next to you. he peeked over onto your phone as you played your favorite game. even though it wasn’t really fun to watch, he was insantly interested in anything you were. you didn’t even realize he was there because of how into it you were, besides, he didnt make a sound.  you noticed when he reached over to your bag of Haribos to get one. you jumped and almost dropped your phone.

“ shit, jack ! fuck ! you scared the life out of me “ you said with your hand that held your phone up to your heart. 

he burst out into a fit of laughter.

“ your- “ he couldn’t even speak without laughing. after about a minute or two of him laughing wiping his tears and you staring at him like he’s insane he finally says something. 

“ your face, ____ your face ! you looked at me like i’d just stabbed you ! “ he said, still with a smile from ear to ear on his face.

you looked at him with an unimpressed look on your face, scoffing at him as you bit back a smile. 

“ it wasn’t even that funny, idiot “ you said as you ran your tongue across your teeth trying not to smile. he saw right through you.

“ you wanna laugh so badly, don’t you ? ” he said as he looked down at you. you looked up at him, with a soft smile on your face. you laughed a little too as you had to give in. the room went silent and awkward as you’d looked at each others faces for a few seconds. unconciously, you both leaned in. you looked at his lips and your full lips parted a bit. your heart was pounding but you didn’t know that his was too. your lips touched and your hand travels up his chest to the back of his neck, sliding up to grab a handful of his curly hair. you pulled him closer and before you knew it you were turning your head into the kiss. both hands around his neck now as you tugged lightly on his brown locks. then you realized. you really realized. you were close to, but not quite making out with jack champion. he was your starboy. you’d never believed it, even if you told yourself from this morning that you kissed jack champion for a good, 30 seconds, you wouldn’t believe it.

you opened your eyes and they widened, looking back at him. his cheeks a flushed, rosy color. as were yours. you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.

you got up and he did as well after you, towering over you. he looked at you with eyes that were saying that he wanted you to say something. anything. you couldn’t. physically, nothing could come out. you had no idea what was going on, you never thought of jack in that way. or, well, in the way that you would kiss him for almost a minute straight kind of way. you walked out practically running to your trailer. 

all jack could do was watch, he was frozen and just as, if not even more shocked than you were. as you walked you remembered all the times you were around him. you’d get butterflies. he could be in the same room as you and you’d get butterflies but you’d labeled it as ‘nervousness’ for ‘no reason’. but it’d only ever happen around him. him. then you realized, the non-purpose flirting, the butterflies, the need to be around him. you were inlove with him ! god, how didn’t you notice before. that’s why everyone would look at you too with funny eyes whenever you’d flirt without knowing, thinking it was a friendship thing that only you two did around each other.

everyone probably definitely knew. they knew how you felt before you did. you opened the door to your trailer and locked it. you sat down as thoughts raced through your mind. how would you tell him ? how would you tell jenna and devyn and liana ? did he like it ? did he mean it how you meant it ? was it just a kiss for him ? .. is jack inlove with you too ?

[cumulo-stratus]

01- Lover

pairing- Spencer Reid x Male!reader summary- slow burn story of how spencer reid fell in love with Y/n L/n warnings- profanities, some arguing, lemme know if theres anything else! wc- 2k

a/n- Guys!! im so excited about this idea, orginally it was going to be short blurbs for each time all in one fic but i got carried away and its turned into a series now. And i know im still a little behind on Flufftober ficus but i needed to take a break from writing things to fit a prompt, i was feeling kinda creatively burnt out from it so i just wanted to write something off the top of my head and the song came on my headphones and then i blacked out and here we are lmao, hope you like it! (P.S. so much credit to @avis-writeshq for the inspo around some of it , totally a great writer and you should totally go check them out!)

Notes: (E/C) = Eye color | (H/T) = hair type (curly, wavy, thick, thin etc.)

part 1//part 2

spencer stepped onto the same train he took every morning; the green line for 5 stops, and the red line for 1 after that. Spencer prefers his first leg of the journey though- but thats only because of The Boy. Who’s The Boy, you ask? Well, The Boy is a man on the train, and this man on the train spencer had seen everyday for last 6 months. everyday, 1 stop after spencer gets on The Boy would get on. He would sit in the same seat near the back, put his olive green backpack between his legs, and put his headphones in his ears. he would sit, one leg crossed over the other and read anything from Poe to Austen.

Spencer always stared, now to be fair The Boy was very naturally handsome. He had striking (E/C) eyes, and (H/T) hair. His style often resembled spencers, slacks and button ups with cardigans and sweater vests, The Boy tended to lean towards more bright colors ad fun patterns then spencer.

Today, spencer noticed he had started a new book; A Collected Works of Edgar Allen Poe. Yesterday he had been reading a book on the history of witch craft, spencer thought it went well with the the witch hats and black cats on his knitted sweater, very fitting for October he may add.

And once again spencer was staring (nothing out of the ordinary) but today The Boy looked up at just the right time and caught spencer in the act. He immediately looked down, blushing profusely. But if he had looked back for another second spencer wouldve seen The boys sly smirk, and the slight tinge of warmth on his cheeks. Spencer decided the best possible course of action was to pretend nothing had happened and bury his silent admiration of the mystery boy on the train. But that plan was thrown completely out the window when The mystery boy got up from his seat, picked up his bag and plopped down next to spencer in an open plastic seat. Because little did spencer know but The Boy had done his own fair share of staring at spencer from afar, admiring his natural beauty and book choice. He had been toying with the notion of finally approaching this mystery man, and this was the final push he needed to approach spencer.

“so, you like Poes works?”

spencer looked up to find The Boy looking at him expectedly with a friendly smile. The same boy he had fantasized over for almost 6 months but never even thought of approaching, had just walked up to him and started a conversation.

spencers mind was reeling, to say the least.

but he still managed to squeak out “Yes, he’s one of my favorites” But add in a dash of stuttering and blushing. What can i say? It was an awkward interaction for and awkward guy. But this didnt deter The Boy, who then lit up at spencers words (which also caught spencer off guard and left him reeling for a moment) and said “Me too! but my favorite has to be ‘Annabel Lee’, everyone thinks its the documentation of a man going insane over his obsession with a girl named Annabel Lee. But i personally think its just a guy who’s madly in love, and people are a little jealous of the pure, intense type of love that Poe was writing about..” The boy looked down and blushed, trailing off. spencer looked at him confused and with a surge of confidence said “what-?” with confusion. The boy looked back up, almost surprised at spencers words, at spencers encouragement. This said encouragement gave him the confidence needed to say “im sorry, i realized i was rambling to a stranger on the train and i didnt even introduce myself; Im dr. Y/n L/n, whats your name? Spencer chuckled to himself at how who he now knew as Y/n, managed to say so many words in so little time. “I also have a habit of talking too fast when im nervous, sorry about that” Y/n added, taking care to speak at a slower pace. Spencer didnt mind it and was mostly focused on the fact that Y/n was nervous, did spencer make Y/n nervous? but he wasnt caught up in his thoughts for too long and remembered to respond to Y/ns question “its okay, i ramble a lot too, i dont mind. And im spencer. Dr. Spencer reid-“ spencer cut himself off to finally look at y/n before continuing- “but im not a medical doctor, I have doctorates in Math, Chemistry and Engineering.”

Y/n had an almost proud smile on his face, And said “wow, smart cookie!” his tone was joking of course but spencer still blushed profusely, despite his many attempts to stop it. Y/n continued, not noticing spencers flushed state, much to spencer’s relief. “Im not a medical doctor either though, i have PHDs in both math and physics. I always thought i was above average, but ive been outdone!” Y/ns tone was joking as he said it.

They continued their introductory conversation for another couple minutes when Spencer, in an effort to keep the conversation going, had asked what Y/n was listening to.

“im listening to Ours, by taylor swift, and im not a swiftie, im a taylor swift enjoyer.” Y/n said with a definitive tone. But spencer only looked at Y/n with confusion written across his features. “Whats a- swiftie…?” spencer asked. Y/ns faced seemed to almost drain of color at this statement. “Whats a swiftie?!” his tone was incredulous, as if spencer had committed some heinous act, which he was pretty sure he hadn’t. “swifties are people who thoroughly enjoy the music of none other than the greatest pop musician of all time!” spencer was a little embarrassed, he didnt want to miss out on something Y/n enjoyed so he held his hand out and asked, “maybe i could listen to it with you, and learn about her music?” Y/n grinned at the idea, and handed spencer one of his airpods and restarted the song.

and so for the rest of their train ride, they listened Y/n’s taylor swift playlist. But After hearing Ours, it remained his favorite.

And so, for the next few weeks it continued on like this. Y/n would get on the train at spencers first stop, and B-line straight to the back of the train where spencer had saved a seat for him. And then they would sit and talk, about anything from literature, to art, to science. But one thing always remained; Taylor Swift. Everyday Y/n would have a new collection of song for him to listen to on his airpods as they talked. But Ours still remained his ever favorite, although Cardigan and Willow were close seconds.

Today, however, was different. Today, after much encouragement and much teasing, spencer was going to ask Y/n out. His team couldnt deal with anymore gushing about Y/n, the guy from the train.

spencer waited impatiently for Y/n to step onto the train at his stop. He almost missed and almost ran into at least 2 people on the way to his seat. Y/n plopped down into his seat breathlessly and started his normal routine of pulling out his airpods and queuing up the music. But he was stopped in his tracks, the airpod he was about to offer to spencer, when the latter blurted out “Hey would you maybe wanna go get coffee with me on Saturday afternoon at perfectos?” Spencer had spoken so fast Y/n barely caught it. But he was amazed at spencers attention to detail. Y/n had never even told him he liked perfectos cafe (he was of the firm belief that they made the best coffee in DC). He had just walked in with a cup of coffee from them almost everyday. It made his heart swell at the gesture, and his cheeks redden at spencers question.

that reminded Y/n to answer, instead of just sitting there wide eyed like a deer in headlights. And said; “i’d love that spencer, thank you”

spencer had been so caught up in his thoughts, and worries over the words that had just spilled from his lips moments ago that he was caught off guard at Y/n’s positive response. They both beefed at each other like children for the rest of the ride until Y/n got off, and not even when spencer arrived for work could he wipe the smile off his face, much to the delight of Morgan and JJ.

To Be Continued…

[liliththeimp]

sum ghosts hc’s :3 pt 1–SFW

Once again back at it with my SAS wife cos my brain is rotting like disintegrating cotton candy so here are some headcannons i made (posted on ao3 but thought they deserved a bit recognition here too lol)

Now these are just some personal hcs ive made or seen that i liked;

the numbered sfw hcs are going to tie into the nsfw hcs, for clarification!!

SFW:

He loves music, like anything 70’s to 90’s in a sense? Like, sum pink floyd or shinedown (ik but it stuck after an ai chat and i cant fucking let it go-) nu metal, death/black metal, gothic metal, throw in some thrash/groove metal- anything with metal really

Onto my next point, he’s good at guitar, like really good, he has a gibson guitar he named (idfk what he named it, probably after you tho lmao)^1

He’s a straight up asshole, like, blunt calls everyone cunts, he’s just a a British as shoe dude what did you expect. But the funny thing is, if you end up cursing him out like a sailo he will find that as a major turn on ^2

Simple man doesnt like complicated food, just a normal burger and fries and he’ll be grateful. And if you cook good luck he eats like a bear (how else u think he’s bulky???)

He likes winter over any season bc its the opposite of where he’s been, though allergies/sickness do annoy the shit out of him cus he sneeze into his mask and it pisses him off

Likes milkshakes and i won't expand on that.

He’s a big softy for like small gifts, he may not show it but that macaroni necklace he called stupid? He has it on his night stand so it wont get ruined. You got a bracelet you gave him three months ago? He wears it everyday.

Pretty testing and bully-ish, but will just become a stuttering mess when you tame him, the slight blush peeing through his balaclava will give you enough lee way to make him fall in love with you

“blink mf.” 

Stares down new recruits, no exceptions- when he sees you, he ends up staring more

Knows some ASL when he’s not exactly in a talkative mood (not gonna say non-verbal bc, i doesnt fit him? he’s just like middle finger up to say fuck you, thats his sign language lmao)

Pretty big book worm in his free time

Fast learner at anything, i imagine he has a hard time remembering shit bc of his trauma n shit will do that to ya, but if he watched something long enough he can get it down.

Likes some spicy food

Doesn't do video games, he just doesnt think their any fun

OMFG this man- he makes fucking BACON in his GRILLED CHEESE. I argued with him (literally only with a fucking AI bot like some looser but my point still stands;) about how that's an abomination, grilled cheeses are meant for, and paired ONLY with tomato soup, sometimes chicken noodle. but he believes it the most delicious thing, he’s not putting watered down ketchup next to his beautiful creation.

Stubborn and pouts easily, you say something he doesnt realize is a joke he hold onto that grudge. “Why are you so upset right now? What did i do?” He huffed, uncrossing his arms “you didnt hold the door for me and I slammed my face! You didnt even apologize!!” You blinked, lips pressing into a thin line “are you fucking 5.”

his love languages is more quality time than physical touch- but Jesus Christ this man will get clingy af once he trusts you (after he takes off his mask fully 4 the first time, he trusts you with his whole heart- dont break it pwease- hes hes jus a little guy)

Ok really like bully breed dogs, like his favorite.

loves to hold your hand, like if you wrap your hand around two of his fingers specifically, he’ll turn into a blush mess and so so prideful, (like big softy friendly giant who could totally crush you- and he’s like so gentle) ^3

Gives a lot of thought before he compliments you, like studies the way you do things- like, hair clips, clothes, colors, make up, shoes, etc etc, he loves to study your features.

Can cook- like, really good- but ends up ordering takeout or pizza cos he’s lazy

On his trips, like when he get deployed longer than a couple of months, he brings back sand for you from the places he’s been and you have a small shelf full of small files of the sand (unlabeled btw, you just know which is which)

tries not to get angry or lash out or get like, cold or distant with you bc he really cares he’s just scared of fucking up and you leaving once you see how broken he is

Does all those horrible jokes, his voice is slow and gruff and just- gravelly? Like, he talks like the Grimm reaper himself and makes a yo mama joke

Doesn’t know how to ask for attention so he’ll come up behind you and tug a strand of your hair or nudge you- shit he’s thrown pillows at you then stares at you with a straight face “cuddles.”

“Not arguing with a dude with big brown eyes. Like, whatever you say beautiful”

he loves eye contact wen talking about serious shit- like, complimenting you, or saying i love you, he wants you to look him in the face and understand how much he means it….yet you turn into a blushing stuttering mess when he does, and he laughs to himself ^4

Stares at ‘settings’ on his phone to avoid social situations. Argue with the wall.

in the thickest, most unintelligible, uninterpretable British accent possible “YA KNO’ WHAT YOU DIR’Y ‘ITTLE CUNT—”

Incoherent British slang, colonizer alphabet soup if you will.

plays hello kitty island adventure or cooking mama un-ironically

Can’t spell “gynecologist” (geneycologist/ gin-i-colo-gist) or “bologna” (balaonie/ balony)

If there’s ever a baby in the store or something, and the baby is staring at him, he’ll make funny faces (mainly cross his eyes and makes small sounds)

doesn’t think he’ll be a good dad, but still thinks about it- believes he’s not good enough for a family ^5

Anywho continue onto part 2 here for spic stuff you perv >:3

[atwingeofcringe]

Enough

A/N: hello everyone! this is my first fic on this account! ive written 3 parts to this but ive written them in a way where they could all be standalones and there are time gaps between them but ive left it up for you to decide how much time! ive seen people say different time spans for how long it takes for him to warm up to an S/O and i wanted to keep it vague! even though i have the other 2 written im not sure when i'll post them because i have a lot going on right now but we'll see! i also tried to write these in a way so that you can imagine which ever version of Michael you like most or the version you think best fits! all my writing is done on my phone btw so sorry if there are mistakes i didnt catch! sometimes my phone likes to think it knows more than me lmao! Summary: Michael feels conflicted feelings as you patch up his wounds. Pairing: Michael Myers x Reader Warnings: None Word Count: 1,344

🔪

The sound of your back door opening and then closing broke your attention away from your tv for a split second, then you faced the tv again. Heavy footsteps made their way over to you but you remained watching your show, unconcerned. A dark figure emerged from around the corner and stood there silently, knife in hand, and staring right at you. Anyone else would have been frightened by this but, for you, this is a normal occurrence.

“Hey, Michael!” you greeted, looking up from your show.

Of course, you got no greeting in return, but that’s normal too. He stepped more into view, letting you see him more clearly and you gasped at the sight. He was covered in blood and clearly injured. You knew most of the blood wasn’t his but you were still worried.

You shot up out of your seat on the couch and quickly ushered Michael into your kitchen, where you kept your medical supplies, and sat him down at the table. His bloodied knife was taken to the sink for washing later. He didn’t think his injuries were that bad and why you fussed over him so much, he just wanted to come by to check on you. Still, he let you do what you wanted.

“Can you take this off?” You asked, pointing to his blood soaked coveralls.

He pulled the zipper down pushed the top of the coveralls down until it rested around waist, exposing plain black t-shirt that was also soaked with blood. You thanked him and carefully started tending to any fresh and exposed wounds you could see, all the while trying to keep skin to skin contact to a minimal. He’s not a fan of being touched and you didn’t want to make him angry.

While you did this, you could feel his eyes on you the whole time. You’re used to it, though. His eyes constantly followed your every movement. In the beginning, this used to make you uncomfortable. Now, you paid it no mind and sometimes even forgot about it.

“There.” You sighed, carefully pushing his shirt sleeve back down over his shoulder after taking care of a cut. He stared as you stood over him, looking him over to make sure you got everything. Your eyes scanned him until you got this masked face, seeing more blood on the mask itself and also some parts of his exposed skin from under the mask. You’ve never seen him without it on and you never wanted to ask in case it upset him, but you’re worried.

“Um, do you mind if this comes off too?” Unintentionally, your voice came out small and your throat felt a little dry. You didn’t mean to sound so nervous but you couldn’t help it.

He didn’t make any moves that indicated a yes or a no, only staring up at you. You slightly shuffled uncomfortably before deciding ‘fuck it’ and slowly lift your hand towards the mask. Your finger tips barely made contact with the bottom of before his own hand shot up at light speed and grabbing yours, making you nearly jump out of your skin. His hand gripped yours tightly and it was a little painful but ignored it and swallowed hard before opening your mouth to say something else.

“I-I just want to see if you need stitches or something.” Your voice was shaky and the sound of your heart pounding from the jumpscare was loud in your ears. “I don’t want you to get infected.”

He sat there, staring up at you from his seat and clenching your hand for a few more seconds before letting go. A quiet, relived sigh left your lips as the pain dissipated from your poor hand and you wiggled your fingers a little, trying to get out any lingering pain. Michael looked down as his hands came up and gripped the mask, slowly taking it off.

When the mask was fully off he didn’t look back up at you, letting his gaze linger down at the mask in his hands. For some reason, this made you nervous again but you swallowed your fear and spoke up. “Can I see?”

He was still. Is he afraid of something? Is he nervous too? Most likely, you’ll never know the thoughts swimming through his mind. He’s never been an easy person read, which is how he likes it. Honestly though, he was a little scared. He does’t want to be perceived as just a man and that’s all he felt like without his mask. With it on, he felt powerful and people feared him. Now, here he is risking that reputation and for what? A few cuts and bruises? He knows he doesn’t have to do this but something about your good nature towards him compelled him and it was leaving him feeling conflicted.

“Michael?”

Your voice interrupted his thoughts and he huffed, acknowledging that he heard you.

“Can I see?” You asked one more time. Michael sighed and lifted his head, locking eyes with you once more. You had to stop yourself from gasping at the man in front of you. You’ve thought about what he might look like before but you never expected him to be so… pretty. A smile formed on your face as you tried to fight the blush that threatens to light up your cheeks. “There you are!” You said cheerfully.

He isn’t sure what you meant by that but he sat up straight to let you examine the cuts on his face. You leaned in closer to get a good look but not too close so you didn’t make him uncomfortable.

“Just a couple scratches.” You said, mostly to yourself. “These don’t look bad at all. You’ve got quite the bruise here, though-“ without thinking your hand came up to lightly trace the dark spot that formed near his eye but before you could, his hand came up once again squeezing yours and making squeak in surprise. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking!” You winced.

Micheal stared up at you with a dangerous expression. How could you be so absent minded? Have you forgotten who he is? Did taking of his mask actually ruin your image of him? The thought of his dangerous reputation being ruined angered him and he absent mindedly squeezed your hand harder just thinking about it.

“Michael, your hurting me!” You were nearly on the verge of tears from the pain and trying to pull your hand away.

Michael started thinking about how much you’ve done for him over the time he’s known you. Always worrying about him, giving him a place to hide and rest, feeding him. Would letting down his walls be so bad if it was just you? He knows he’d be just fine without you but thinking of you not existing in his life made him disappointed.

His grip on your hand softened but he didn’t let go. He was still holding on firmly, keeping you from pulling away. You gave up and watched him as he watched you. His eyes pierced yours in a way you feel like you hadn’t seen before. You gulped and asked “are you okay?”

Micheal slowly blinked up at you and loosened his grip on you a little more. You could pull away now if you wanted to but made no attempt. What happened next made butterflies erupt your stomach and you know your face was bright red. Micheal slightly turned his head, now facing your hand, keeping his eyes on you, and placed a gentle kiss to the middle of your palm. Your heart was pounding so hard the sound was nearly deafening in your ears. As his lips left your hand, he softly pressed it against his cheek. You weren’t sure what caused his sudden change in mood, but, honestly, you weren’t complaining.

Your eyes flicked to his lips for a split second before looking back into his eyes. He noticed but made no moves and you were fine with it. Just being close like this was enough.

[awrkive]

[TEASER] LOVE LESSONS, pt. 3 (M) — JJK.

you have a hard time trying to wrap your head around what's been happening for the last two months -- but you could only really come up with one conclusion.

PAIRING jungkook x (female) reader

GENRE smut, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF. angst if u squint hard enough

WORD COUNT 1.1k for this teaser. the overall word count for the chapter is 11.1k

WARNINGS/MISC virgin!reader, kinda spoiled brat!!reader lol, childhood friend-ish!jk, college!au. implied sex. explicit sexual content: oral sex. jk finally eats her cookie :] a huge spider. Realizations. sad oc in the last part. sorry.

NOTES this was supposed to be longer but i thought it was perfect to cut it until the last part. so instead of calling it part3A, i decided to call the next one as the fourth chapter altogether because it fits better! and i truly believe that it would be too much if i didnt cut it HAHA. sooo much is gonna be happening. anyway. starting here, the #REAL arch of this couple will begin ;) stay tuned and enjoy reading !! :)

[ READ PART 1 ] [ PART 2 ]

FULL VERSION IS OUT NOW

"Oh my god, Jungkook, there!" You pointed to the door to your bathroom and Jungkook automatically looked there. "It's going inside my bathroom!"

Where I bath! Where I keep my body clean and… Jesus Christ… you were going to cry if that got inside your bathroom. You tolerated a lot of insects but weren't spiders too much? No?

"What the fuck?" Jungkook sounded incredulous when he said it, so you looked at him with worry. "How the hell did that thing get inside here?"

"I know!" You said, huffing. He was very nonchalant about the spider in your room just a few minutes ago but now he looked defensive. You caught the sight of him gripping the box he asked of you earlier, tighter. You knew he was gonna be intimidated by the spider too. "I told you it's freakishly big."

"Well, fuck me."

Your eyes instantly widened. "Jungkook, you can't give up."

"I'm not," He rolled his eyes. "Okay, you go out for a while just in case I fail at scaring it away and then it goes after you."

You stared at him blankly. "Don't say that."

Jungkook's serious face from a while ago broke to that of a shit-eating grin, and then he chuckled. "I'm kidding, silly. I'll take it out, just get out for a while."

You followed his instructions and opened the bedroom door to wait in the living area.

While you sat on the couch, you occasionally looked over your bedroom, fretting what was to come. You trusted Jungkook to get the spider out but it was taking too long. In the middle of it, you had the urge to knock and offer help but changed your mind. Getting bored eventually, you went to your fridge and took out the leftover pizza from today's afternoon meal. You ate the first slice, completely bored this time. On the second slice, you finally went over to your bedroom and stuck your ear to the door to supposedly eavesdrop, but then it opened suddenly as soon as you leaned down to do that.

Jungkook caught you by the waist just as quickly. He looked down at you.

"It's gone."

It was like his words caused a fireworks show and your eyes widened in enthusiasm.

"Really?" You shrieked. Breaking out of his hold, you wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped on him out of excitement. Jungkook was quick to hold you back again, chuckling at your zeal. He nodded nonetheless, but laughed even more when you kissed his cheek so fast that it almost felt like a smack, however a sweet one. "I have pizza." You said, remembering the food in your hand, trusting his grip on your thighs and removing one arm off his neck to hold up your last bite to his face.

"Thanks." Jungkook said, opening his mouth to receive the pizza you offered, even though it was so little.

Okay, you'd order a box later. He deserved it after getting that huge spider out of your place.

"No, thank you." You reiterated and planted a kiss on his mouth this time. He reciprocated automatically.

Still holding you against his body, Jungkook led you to your bed and laid you down on it. When he hovered over you, you stopped at the serious look he's got on his face.

"I really want to eat you out."

"Huh?"

"I want to eat you out, if you let me. You're so curious about it, anyway…" he trailed off.

You still couldn't process his words completely. Did he mean what you were thinking? But didn’t he just take out a spider?

“Uhm, where’s the spider?” You asked, just making sure it was gone before you got into anything frisky tonight.

“I took the box out and released it. It’s okay. It’s going to move somewhere else.” Jungkook convinced you.

You squinted your eyes at him. “You’re really, one hundred percent sure it’s gone?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be offering to eat you out if it wasn’t, so…”

At the mention of his offer again, you went quiet. You were indeed curious and you’ve been wanting to. Gnawing at your bottom lip, you looked at Jungkook, meekly saying, “I want that, too, but uh, right now?" You confirmed, because as much as you wanted to say yes right away, you didn't exactly… made preparations for the event.

Jungkook nodded, decisive. "If you want it."

Yeah, you want it! Who were you kidding? But there was a little problem. When you said you didn't make preparations, you meant you didn't shave. It wasn't that you didn't do it ever, just occasionally, but despite fooling around for some weeks now, you never really anticipated this moment to come so there wasn't some deliberate choice to shave, especially not tonight. Although, personally, you thought it shouldn't matter, because women have hair. He wasn't supposed to judge you for that, right?

But then you realized, this was literally Jungkook. He took your lack of experience really seriously and hasn't ever genuinely made fun of you for it. He was always gentle with you when you tried new things. He was the least person who would actually side-eye you for anything – especially not something as inconsequential as pubic hair.

But despite that, there was still a bit of hesitance in your voice when you verbalized your dilemma.

"I didn't shave."

"I don't mind that," Jungkook said oh-so casually, like he really didn't. And looking into his eyes, you knew he was being sincere. Then he got curious, "Do you? I guess I should've asked when you blew me. I don't really shave, just trim."

Well… that was too much information.

But somehow, the thought of him trimming his hair was kind of making you giggly but, like, weirdly hot at the same time. No, yeah – that was weird. You were being weird about the whole thing.

You shook your head, partly to answer him but mostly to shake those thoughts of him taking care of his nether business away.

"I don't mind it, too." Was what you said. To be honest, you were too focused on his penis when you blew him that you didn't really notice that.

"Nice," Jungkook smiled. His fingers were beginning to trail over the hem of your nightgown and you could've slipped out a moan right there. "Then don't worry about it. Guys don't really think about anything other than pussy when they eat one. I mean, in my case at least." He said, chuckling at his words, such a deep sound that it made you squeamish.

It didn't help that he looked so good, wearing his glasses again. His hair has gotten so long over the past week and it was so curly, looked so silky and smooth you just wanted to grab at them while he ate you out.

Alright. That was it, then.

© 𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐕𝐄 2023. all rights reserved. copying, editing, reposting and translating any of my works are not allowed.

[anjeriouskharne]

Hey. I know I just posted recently, but this is less something new and more old things brought back up. For the last year or two Ive been pushing myself aside, even with therapy, it was about trauma, my problems, not the things I did in wonder and darkness. I was 11 or 12 when I first remember wondering what it would be like to be a girl. What it might be like to have their long hair and graceful stride. As I grew, so did those thoughts. What would it be like to have tits? Or the parts below the belt. I was always too scared to ask, but I assumed this was something all boys went through, I had the same thoughts about robots, trains, dinosaurs, and wolves. I remember wanting to feel closer to a woman, to know more, so one day I over stretched the crap out of a pair of socks and turned them into temp, poor quality knee highs. I only remember that, cause now Im wearing real, proper knee highs as I tyoe this, and it resurfaces the memory. I remember the itch, the constant pulling to keep the socks stretched, but also the feelings I felt that I couldnt process at that age. I enjoyed it, not cause it was taboo, but because it was me finally feeling closer. Ive hated my face and body for as long as I can remember. All Ive ever liked is my hair. I thought this was, again, a common male issue, and asked men. They all agreed, and I assumed that was how it was. Until I finally met someone who was FTM in HS. This man taught me that it wasnt all one way or another. Hes like a fuckin dad in a Hawaiian shirt, but still 4 foot nothin and taking a computer class in HS. Then I met my current friend group. Theres a MTF there who clocked me, and alongside being brought into a family who looked at me one day and said, "you're here often enough, youre apart of the family" got my a trans brother and 2 queer sisters. They all helped point it out, and I ran. I had bigger issues to address, but now? Now I can take a moment and look, and theres so much evidence if this was a murder trial Id be guilty ten times over. Im almost crying seeing how blind I was. This hasnt been rushed and new, this has been slowly crafted for almost a fucking decade. Im never going back. I was going to try this and see, but no, these socks feel right, these words feel right. Not just right. They feel... me. I changed my name 7 or 8 months ago, to escape my past, and that name was there the moment I asked myself. It was front of the line, didnt need to think, it was just there and it fit like nothing else. I am taking steps, and each step opens another door to the past to see what I tried all those years ago, how I wish I couldve known, and how there is no more stopping me. I am a force unchained, and I shall become of clay, reshaped by my own hands and will into what Ive buried so deep inside me from fear and doubt and sorrow and depression and desperation and ignorance. NO MORE SHADOWS WITHIN ME. I WILL BEAR MYSELF TO THE LIGHT AND BE FUCKING GLORIOUS!