#she’s a teenager yes but sometimes teenagers are also just really bad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beefboyandbabygirl · 1 year

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

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

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

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

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

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

wordcount: 10.0k

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

Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sometimes you think that the loneliness might kill you.

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

What do normal people do when they feel this bad?

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

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

There’s never anyone at the door. _____________________________

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

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

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

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

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

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.

“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard.

“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back.

“Morning.”

“M-”

Wait a minute.

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice to meet you too, Y/n.”

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

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

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

This is not new.

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Y/n?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

“Uh-”

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

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

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

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

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

You feel like shit. _____________________________

Why is no one else cursed?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He leaves.

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

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

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

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Tina.

“Morning, Tina,” you mumble back.

“Morning, Y/n,” mumbles Gerard.

“Morning, Gerard,” you mumble back.

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

“Morning, Wonwoo.”

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

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

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

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

“My favorite woman in accounting!”

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s great-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wonwoo’s eyebrows raise. “Boyfriend?”

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

A pause.

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

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

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

This would be torture. _____________________________

It is not torture.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-Wonwoo, you don’t have to-”

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

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

Eventually, he lets you go.

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

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

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

“I, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows furrow.

“Wha-”

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

“Cured?”

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

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

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

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

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

“We can just hug if you-”

You feel bold.

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

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

What had Wonwoo been talking about? Touch-starved?

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

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

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

His hands run up and down your sides.

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

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

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

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

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

“Wonwoo,” you pip.

“Mhm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He does take care of you.

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re almost done.”

“Mhm.”

“I can’t believe we’re almost done!”

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

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

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

A pause. He tilts his head.

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

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

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

“We’re not done.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He breathes out unsteadily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I take off your clothes, pretty?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We don’t have to-”

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

“It’s just if you were too tired..-”

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

“Okay. C’mere then.”

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

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

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

“Come ride me, baby.”

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

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

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

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

“Can I put it in?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so pretty, baby.”

“Your tits are so perfect, shit.”

“Pretty girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You catch your breaths.

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

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

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

“Am getting your dick out of me?”

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

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

He tilts his head teasingly.

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

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

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ynscrazylife · 6 months

Note

You know what I really miss? Avengers x teen!reader headcanons, there use to be so much avengers content and practically dominated tumblr🥲

It would totally make my WEEK if you would make some classic mcu avengers(before infinity war) x teen!reader x Peter Parker(romantic) headcanons just about reader having powers and what it’s like living with the avengers 💕

-possible your new 👾anon?

let’s do this 💪 and YES you’ll be my first emoji anon!! @ anyone else, feel free to claim ur emoji!!

avengers x teen!reader headcanons

The Avengers are definitely reluctant to add another teenager to the team. Having Peter is great but has been a big adjustment, as they had to train him and protect him, less they face the wrath of Aunt May.

However, you were a compelling case, with your extensive abilities. You didn’t have many other options as to where to go and you hit it off with Peter right off the bat, working very well together as a pair. So, they took you in.

Tony worked with you on designs for your suit, Natasha and Steve trained you in combat (which meant you were going on morning runs with Steve and Sam. How fun . . . Though Sam could be convinced to give you piggy back rides, and you became Clint’s personal arrow-picker-upper. If you had powers, Wanda would definitely help you manage them.

Peter was naturally in tune to science, which meant you hung around the lab with him and Bruce a lot. It became a nice time to get your homework done, as Bruce would definitely help you with that. Sometimes you acted as Bruce’s and Peter’s assistant with their experiments.

Bruce was also a very good listener and your go-to person to vent to about your life’s problems (when Peter wasn’t around).

One of the conditions to be on the team was that you didn’t lapse in schoolwork, so they were very on top of that and your grades. Tony even offered to go to parent-teacher meetings. Any one of them were ready to go to your teachers or principal if anything happened.

Natasha would routinely check in with you to make sure that you weren’t being bullied.

Pepper also became a motherly figure, as she cared very much about you and Peter. She’d offer you a Stark Industries internship.

Movie nights were chaotic, but absolutely the best. It was hard for anyone to agree, so the team had a system where they’d rotate who got to pick the meeting. Sam and Peter were also not allowed to make popcorn after many unfortunate incidents. Most of the time you fell asleep late into the night and one of the Avengers carried you to bed (they’d never admit this, but that also became an argument).

It was during a movie night when Peter realized he liked you romantically. You fell asleep during a movie, your head on his shoulder. Peter swore he never experienced something so precious before. He was adamant to keep your peace, glaring at anyone who dared to talk.

The team found your growing romance to be adorable and often teased the two of you about it. The only people who didn’t tease you were Bruce, Pepper, and Thor (because he didn’t really understand how to effectively tease).

If Flash messed with you, Peter was always on top of it. He’d always protect you.

Steve was also always making sure that you knew right from wrong. He’d give long speeches about how it wasn’t right to smoke, drink, do drugs, etc.

Then Thor gave you Asgardian alcohol once, not realizing how bad that was considering you’re both human and underage. That was a mess. Peter having to hold your hair back when you vomited and multiple Avengers escorting you to bed. Thor got an earful about it.

Clint was one of the ones who better understood you, seeing as he had experience with his own kids. He was always good at mediating and defusing the tension.

Laura also adored you, you were her favorite babysitter for the kids. Whenever they went on date night, they’d drop the kids off at the tower, and you would watch them (Peter would help when he wasn’t on patrol).

Patrolling with Peter was also very fun. More often than not he’d convince you to take a break, then swing you up on top of a roof to watch over the city and the sky.

On multiple occasions, KAREN would rat the two of you out to Tony, but he was never mad. He just wanted to know all about the “date”.

Prom was also very fun. Honestly, the whole team would want to come pick out outfits with you and Peter. They took many, many pictures on the night of. Peter also teared up when he saw you. He thought you were stunning.

Of course, you guys had a curfew, but it was alright. You and Peter had a fantastic night. All he wanted to do was dance and hold you.

You had Happy wrapped around your finger. You could really convince him to drive you anywhere you wanted to go.

You also managed to get an internship at the Sanctum Santorum, learning more about magic under Doctor Strange and Wong’s guidance. The Avengers weren’t particularly thrilled, as they were worried about you being hurt, but understood your want to explore.

You really wanted to see all the areas of being a hero. Clint taught you archery and Natasha taught you how to be a spy. You’d listen to Natasha and Clint’s spy stories for hours. Peter would have to pry you away.

Peter always insisted on having date nights and would go all out, making every date special. He’d do anything to make you happy.

And so would all the Avengers. They loved seeing you smile, it brightened up their whole world and made the team stronger.

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 17 days

Note

If you're still doing arcane writing, could I request jinx x s/o who calls her "lucky charm".

It's cool if not and either way I hope you have a lovely day 💕☕

Requests for arcane are open!

Lucky Charm!

For starters, she did not understand why you called her your “lucky charm”

She has never been known as a symbol of luck ever since she was a kid

She never even really believed in luck probably

In her mind ever since she was a kid she had the deeply rooted idea that she is and only will ever be a jinx

Something that brought bad luck, chaos and death

It’s so deeply rooted that she cannot fathom that someone viewed her as anything else

Especially luck

But for some reason when you came into her life, you did!

She was very confused when you started it, even saying sometimes to quit it out

She thought it was meant to mock her at first

“But you’re always there to save me! Everything’s always right when you’re with me.”

Was probably something you had told her

It made her freeze up for a moment probably because yes, she would and always will be there to save you

She loves you, and you’re one of the very few good things in her life, she can’t have ya dying on her!

But the fact that you think whenever she was around everything was good and right and everything was well was unfathomable to her

“Don’t mock me…” was a very common saying after that

You had to work very very hard for her to know that no, it wasn’t meant to mock her, but you genuinely believed she was your good luck charm

After time it made her feel a bit giddy

That you, someone she loved dearly, loved her so much back that you wanted her around to be your good luck charm

So she basically used it as an excuse to always be around you

She loved hearing the nickname fall from your lips

She also loved playing into the “good luck kisses” before missions

Saying that everything will go to shit if she doesn’t give you your kiss

She knows it will go right cause she’ll be there with you, but still

She loves that she’s your good luck charm

It makes her feel like less of a jinx and makes her feel loved

Like she’s not just a monster that brings chaos

But just a teenage girl in love and loved back

#arcane x reader #arcane #jinx arcane #arcane jinx #arcane ekko #jinx x reader #arcane jinx x reader #arcane reader #jinx x gender neutral reader

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redstarwriting · 1 year

Text

his girl | x. talkin’ bout my girl

earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader | miles morales x fem!reader

word count: 2k

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: language, spoilers (!!!), more fluff, mentions of severe injuries, bad Spanish probably, so much multiverse shit

a/n: and that’s a wrap on another spiderverse series! wild. big thank you to everyone who read and supported the story! it was fun to write, and sorry for all the major plot twists and turns i threw in there i’m a little unhinged sometimes LMAO but in all seriousness, i hope you enjoy this last chapter🖤

his girl masterlist

previous chapter: ix. i’ve got sunshine

now reading: x. talkin’ bout my girl

end.

───────────────────────────────

You and Miles are back to being inseparable. And both you and him have never been happier. Rio is relieved, and so happy that the two of you are no longer just best friends, but partners. Jefferson feels the same way and is even more relieved that you know and are there for him as Spider-Man on top of it all. His parents missed having you around the house for a while, so they’re more than happy that you’re around basically all the time. Ganke sort of hates it because the two of you can be all lovey-dovey in front of him, but also doesn’t because you join in with him to make fun of Miles for being an idiot. Something the two of you agreed on was to never tell anyone else you were Black Cat. It could be too dangerous for you, and Miles doesn’t exactly like the thought of you going to jail for stealing.

What he does like is you’re sneaky enough to follow him into Spider Society when he goes. Sometimes he lets you sneak in with him. The first time, though, he was completely unaware you followed him. And when you popped up behind him, mask on, Miguel almost had an aneurysm.

“Why is there a Black Cat here?!” he yelled, and Miles, who didn’t even know you were there until Miguel said that, put his arm around you protectively. “Because she’s my girlfriend. And she is really good at following me without setting my sense off. We got a problem or something?”

“Yes, Miles, we do. Black Cats can’t be–”

“Remember that time you told me I shouldn’t exist? I remember that.”

“He told you that?” you feign ignorance. You know everything Miguel did to Miles, and you hate him because of that. But you pretend you don’t know because it gives you an excuse to look shocked and make him feel bad instead of your real feelings of being ready to fight him right now. And Miguel actually falls for it. “I NEVER–” he begins to protest, but cuts himself off with a sigh, shaking his head and muttering some things in Spanish. “If you do anything…” he points at you, and your mask fades away as you narrow your eyes at him. “You wouldn’t know if I did,” you say, and he groans. “Black Cats. Always the same,” he mutters, turning around and walking away.

From that point on, if you didn’t have anything to do, you would accompany Miles to Spider Society. And today was one of those days. The two of you are walking hand in hand when Gwen lands next to the two of you. “Hey lovebirds,” she says, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Hey, Gwen,” you say, and she joins the two of you. “What are you two up to today?” “Nothing, really. Actually, was gonna ask you, Pav, and Hobie if y’all had anything to do," Miles says and Gwen sighs. “Yeah, actually, Hobie and Pav are on a mission right now. And I have a father-daughter day planned with my dad so we can try to mend our relationship after he, y’know, threatened to arrest me and pulled a gun on me,” Gwen says, and you both nod, making noises of disgust and agreement. “Yeah, probably for the best you don’t miss that,” you say, and she nods. “Yeah. Oh! And then I someone you know might have a date with Mary Jane later,” Gwen says, and you stop walking, turning to her and grabbing her shoulders. “Are you for real?!”

“Yes! I finally asked her, and she said yes!” The two of you do The little teenage girl excited jump up and down action, and Miles grins. “Happy for you, Gwen, but can you please give me my girlfriend back, my hand is cold,” he says, motioning to the hand you abandoned to talk to Gwen. You and Gwen look at each other, rolling your eyes as you slip your hand back into his. Gwen glances at her watch. “Fine, I have to go anyways. Oh, I’ll see you two tomorrow at Hobie’s, right?”

“You know it,” Miles says, and she grins. “Great! Well, see you two later!” Gwen says, opening up a portal to her world and stepping through. You look at Miles. “So, what do you wanna do now?” you ask, and he shrugs. “Guess it’s just gonna be us hanging out. How tragic,” Miles says with a small smile on his face, and you shake your head. “Maybe I should see if there’s any museum or rich person I can steal from,” you tease, and he rolls his eyes. “Ha. Ha,” he says, and you squeeze his hand. The two of you make your way to one of the common rooms, but before you can even sit down you hear someone call out Miles’ name.

You both turn your heads in the direction it came from and a new Spider-Woman lands beside the two of you. She takes her mask off, and your eyes get big. It’s you. “(Y/n)? like Earth 42, (Y/n)?” he asks, and you nod. “Yeah! This is weird, right? I think it’s a little weird.”

“Uh, what’s weird is you’re me,” you say, pointing at you. “Oh! You fixed it!” 42 you says, high-fiving Miles. “I told you it’s weird, didn’t I?” Miles asks you, and you nod. He’d told you about how he was sent to an alternate universe with no Spider-Man and how he met himself there. And in doing so, met the you of that world, too. Now you’re looking at her… but he never mentioned she was Spider-Woman. But you gather he also didn’t know she was Spider-Woman by the way he motions to her suit. “When did… this happen?”

“The day you arrived and then promptly left, actually,” you say, “so about two weeks ago. You remember how Miles and Aaron went to Alchemax? Yeah, well, apparently they were developing a new spider similar to the spider that bit you, and it crawled into Miles’ duffle bag he had. He and I were sleeping in his room, and it crawled out, and he got up to go get water or something and it crawled over to me and bit me. Found it the next morning.”

“Oh? And you’re already here?” Miles asks, and you nod. “After we realized, which, by the way, absolutely fucking wild. You can heal overnight? That caught everyone off guard. Ms. Morales thought she was the next coming of Jesus Christ for a second, but anyway, after we figured out I had similar abilities to you, that Miguel dude showed up and offered me one of these little watches. He said he was happy this world had a Spider-Person now, but when he saw Miles, he did a whole ass double take and then muttered how he ‘can’t escape this kid’ in Spanish. Miles, of course, responded also in Spanish, and then he looked stressed and just left,” you explain, and Miles laughs. Even when he wasn’t around, he was plaguing Miguel with his existence in multiple universes. “Yeah, sorry for not warning you but he hates me.”

“We picked up on that,” you say, and then you look over at you. “Okay. time for me to be weirded out, why do I have an outfit that looks like Miles’ Prowler outfit?” you ask, and you shrug. “I’m Black Cat.”

“Also, she and Miles of your world are insanely intelligent engineers, inventors, and designers. Looks like they think the same way, too,” Miles says, wrapping his arm around you and looking at you proudly. “Oh! Do you wanna go see him? I told him the first thing I’d do is look for you and make sure you didn’t fuck up with me. And! The two of us have started to fix up New York! I’m sure he’d be happy to see you,” 42 you says, starting to fiddle with her watch. “Hell yeah! Totally, you okay with that, amor?”

“Of course. I’d like to meet this other Miles, maybe exchange some engineering ideas if his suit seems half as cool as you hyped it up to be,” you say, and 42 you grins to herself. You knew that he’d be able to figure it out, but it’s still so nice and refreshing seeing the Miles who was so distracted and in his head genuinely looking and feeling better with you by his side. The portal pulls up, and you motion the two of you to follow. You do, and end up in what looks exactly like Miles’ room, except instead of art supplies and sketches of Spider-Man stuff, it’s more geared towards technology and sketches for gauntlets. Of course, there’s now a mix of that with Spider-Woman sketches and ideas, but the other Miles’ blueprints and designed are what catch your eye immediately. They look very similar to yours, and you can’t help but read some of the notes on the pages. “Vibranium? Where the fuck did he get vibranium…” you mumble to yourself, and 42 you looks at the both of you. “Ms. Morales isn’t home, so we can be as vocal about our identities as we like. She does know about me, but not Miles still. Figured it would be fine for her to know about my shit but Miles is a little more… complicated,” you say, opening the door. 42 Miles turns his head. “Ay, ma, who you talking to?”

“Miles,” you say, motioning that 1610 Miles is back. “Que pasa, hermano?” 1610 Miles asks, and he and Miles dap each other up. You wave, and 42 Miles smiles at you. “Hola, preciosa,” he says, winking at you. Your Miles wraps his arm around you. “Woah, there, bro, that (Y/n) might is your girl. This (Y/n) is my girl” he says, kissing your temple. You smile a bit, and 42 Miles puts his hands up in surrender. “I may be your girl, but I do wanna talk to you,” you point at 42 Miles, “about the notes about a vibranium gauntlet design. Where the hell are you getting vibranium and how does it react with the PVC piping you used to on the fingers?” 1610 Miles shakes his head, and 42 Miles smirks. “You get it?” he asks, and you nod. “Oh, I get it. Now explain.”

“Ella lo consigue,” he says, turning to his (Y/n) who rolls her eyes. “Got the vibranium from a job about a week ago, no one was using it, so,” he shrugs, “decided it belonged to me.”

“Where?”

“Avengers Tower.”

“Shut up. How hard are their security systems?”

“Hard if you ain’t smart,” he says, and you nod. “Should be simple then.”

“Stop… stop planning on breaking into Avengers Tower in front of me, amor,” 1610 Miles says, and 42 you sigh. “Yeah, babe, same here. You know I’m gonna have to stop people from doing that shit now,” you mumble, as both 1610 you and 42 Miles roll your eyes. “It’s my job,” 1610 you and 42 Miles say at the same time. “It’s ours too!” 1610 Miles and 42 you say before Miles processes that the Avengers are on your Earth. “Wait, you have the Avengers here?” Miles asks 42 (Y/n), and you nod. “Yeah.”

“Why haven’t they fixed New York?”

“Oh, do your Avengers care unless it’s a world-ending event? What’s that like?” you ask him, and he scoffs. “That… is actually very correct. They are totally not like that,” Miles says, and you sigh. “This Spider-Woman shit is a lot of responsibility.”

“I hear that,” Miles grumbles, as the two of them watch 1610 you and 42 Miles discussing their tactics on how they break into places and comparing gadgets. Miles can’t help but think that it’s funny how ending up in the wrong universe gave him some new friends and helped him get the girl who has always been the girl he wanted, even if he was a little slow with it. But it also caused him so much distress, almost made him die, and showed him an alternate reality of how his life may have ended up.

Man, this multiverse shit is confusing.

───────────────────────────────

『 his girl tag list 』

@agustdeeyaa @akemiixx01 @angeli-fucking-cat @avatar-lover* @camilleverreault @cherriebat @dani111* @darlingdontwe @denuparxoume @eciipsedpoet @eitaababe @em711 @gwennesy @hana-1235 @hana-yuri @hunnybunny78* @imaginarydreams @inluvwithneteyam @itzmeme @jonathanthor @kaaylvst @kdbsr-h* @kezibear @kikookii @kingsmanperfecthartwin @korehiiime @laurszd @laylasbunbunny @lazyotakuofficial @mama-2001 @miggyoharaswife @mividaasi @nightshxdex @notplutos* @p3rf3ct4ng3l @papichulo120627 @po55um @ptsmplekaramele @realityshifter111 @rksses @scarletrosesposts @silly-norman @simp4miguell @shoyofroyoyoyo @shxxnz @snixx2088 @soy-garbage @sp1derm4nluver @staravity @stevenknightmarc @storm-enika* @sukisprettyface @sunshinesetsstuff* @sweetheartlizzie07 @sweetteyam @talkyoongitome @tanchosanke @tenaciousduckpoetry @thatonehjpstan @unforgettable420 @violettathewriter @whoisgami @yasfrommiles @yourfavstalker25789* @zenxvii

『 itsv/atsv tag list 』

@1eonk @autismnation @briannaxox @em711 @februarybluues @fennecspage* @fiannee @hearts4hobie @kitsunna4 @lovefks @luvvrgirll @mintkookiess @parkerpresentz @peyingbills* @smuuchies* @soseoulol @stoic0utlaws @swaqlover* @tes-conscience @zombie-catz

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

if you wish to be on either tag list, reach out and let me know! thank you to everyone for the support!🖤

───────────────────────────────

#miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #prowler miles x reader #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader #spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv

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i-yap · 4 months

Text

Fights btw tim and y/n

warning- a little yandere

bro is the perfect teenage love type of boyfriend but ofc we all have our issues.

he is a stalker, like full blown cameras, drones , stalking your socials and prolly even has your browser history. he tends to get obsessive and struggles to understand boundaries. he means well but if you rlly love your privacy you may need to give him a strict talking to. but this does mean he gets you the perfect gifts( ur entire shopping cart)

he overanalyzes a lot. that + the fact he doesn't sleep+ lives on caffeine and aderaline+ mommy daddy issues+ you being the best thing that ever happened to him...yea he overthinks everything. " why did she leave my hand, wait is it sweaty? her brow also twitched, she is texting someone one, is it a he? the corners of lips turned up at a degree of 10 degrees..SHE LIKES SOME OTHER GUY" yes he his detective skills sort of fail in this case.

he has a bit of tunnel vision, so he sometimes misses the big picture. he is also a little impulsive . while this isn't always a problem , he does end u insulting your friends without first hearing the whole story, or take some action without considering all factors. you always have to calm you hyper asf bf and tell him to take a second to breathe before jumping right into action.

he worries about u a lot, if you have a bad habit he is trying every trick in the book to get you to leave it and may become helicopter parent like even if u don't wanna leave that habit. this prolyl did cause a major fight at some point

he struggles to give you the time you deserve( same a dick and bruce tbf) and he puts so much pressure on himself ( as a robin and as ur bf) that he just cracks really often . and u have to remind him that its okay if he isn't perfect, he is yours and you wont change that for the world

#bruce wayne x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader #batboys #batboys x reader #batfam x reader #batboys fluff #nightwing #nigthwing x reader #red robin #red robin x reader

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feelingsshmeelings · 3 months

Text

Recently watched inside out 2 and I'm not even gonna lie, I left that theater with tears in my eyes and the FATTEST crush on Anxiety. I can't help it okay I love me some crinkly girl failure creature 😔

Anxiety x Reader: relationship headcanons

INCLUDES: GN! Reader, Fellow Emotion! Reader, fluff, some down bad behavior on Anxiety's part, very light angst, she/they pronouns for Anxiety

📋 It probably takes a while for her to settle into the relationship. Not to say that she dislikes being with you (of course not!!), but she's anxious. Like that's literally their whole thing. They have a hard time believing that you're actually... yknow, WITH THEM. Like, WILLINGLY.

📋 Eventually though, once you've given her plenty of reassurance, she'll start easing into the relationship

📋 Literally such a planner!! You can bet they've got a whole notebook dedicated to your relationship. Possible date ideas, things you like, things you dislike, important couple milestones to look forward to, etc. She's managing both of your calenders while ALSO crafting a detailed step-by-step plan of the next few years of your future together

📋 Anxiety is definitely the type to ramble— not just about they're job of looking after Riley but also about pretty much everything else. This one's a yapper, what can I say

📋 It's probably an insecurity of hers (she fears sometimes that her constant chatting may come off as annoying), but if you take the time to actually listen to what she has to say? Ask questions?? Offer your own insight???

📋 One word: marriage

📋 It's pretty much canon that she's prone to nervous breakdowns and insomnia. You should like... help her with that 👀. Guide her towards her massage chair when she needs it (or even better: offer a massage yourself). Cuddle with them in their bed, or yours. Talk them through their thoughts. Whatever works for the both of you

📋 I see Anxiety as being on the spectrum (ngl I feel like most of the emotions got that tism in them). That being said, physical touch is... well, they're not ADVERSE to it exactly, but it's probably not something they partake in often. Like it's not something she'll initiate, if that makes sense?? She's just very conscious of everyone else's personal space and would hate to overstep any boundaries

📋 THAT BEING SAID... Please hold her hand every now and then. Maybe just slide your hand into theirs while the two of you are standing side-by-side at the control panel, or give hers a small squeeze whenever she starts spiraling. She finds it grounding

📋 (they're bright red the whole time, constantly asking if you're really okay with it or if her palms are clammy or if your comfortable in the position or if—)

📋 PETNAMESSS!!!! Her go-to for you is "sweetie", or "love" if they're feeling particularly bold

📋 Will literally melt into a puddle at whatever nickname you choose to give them tho. Like you could give them the cheesiest petname on the planet and they'd still go all squiggly mouthed and flapping their hands

📋 Likes to take initiative in most things, INCLUDING your relationship, so don't be surprised if she's the one taking charge while putting together dates or while you two are at work in Riley's mind. Sometimes they can be a bit overbearing, but just have a sit down with her, let her know how you feel, and she'll gladly step down and let you get shit done

📋 COM👏MU👏NI👏CA👏TION!! VERY IMPORTANT TO HER!!!! Like I said before, they overthink a lot, so it definitely helps if you're honest and open about how you feel

📋 Working inside the mind of a teenage girl can be pretty stressful, so being able to wind down with you at the end of the day is definitely something Anxiety looks forward to

📋 Being able to ramble with you and get their thoughts off their chest is something they love, yes, but they also enjoy the moments of quiet you two share. You could be sitting at the same table, maybe you're reading a book or drawing, meanwhile she's jotting down a new workout regimen for the upcoming hockey season. Or maybe you're having a shared cup of cocoa while admiring the view from headquarters. Or maybe you're playing with their hair while they lay their head on your lap...

📋 She enjoys being able to simply exist with you. No thoughts about the future, no worries about what's yet to come. Just you and them in your own peaceful little bubble 🧡

I LOVE HER SO MUCH YOU DONT EVEN KNOW AJSJSKAKAKA!! Definitely planning on writing more for her soon! The other emotions too (feel free to send in an ask guysss I want ideas so bad 👀👉👈)

#being so self indulgent rn guys you dont even know #i love her #my skrunkly #all those haters who said her design was bad can go eat a textbook #POV: ur opinion is WRONG 😤#inside out 2 #inside out anxiety #inside out headcanons #headcanons

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melehound · 1 year

Text

141 + König catch you staring! GN READER!

Cw: a little cursing I got a little mess with this one 💀

Kyle “gaz” garrick

He’s so cocky 🙄

He thinks his physique is very impressive and he works out a lot (every time he sees a mirror he stands in front of it flexing and checking himself out for 5 straight minutes 💀) so when he catches you staring he feels validated

The second he catches you staring he can’t help but smile like a dork

After that he starts snapping you those shirtless pics in front of his mirror randomly like “whoops didn’t mean to send those to you my bad lol haha 😛” like mf yes you did 💀

John price

He does it on purpose he’s been doing it since you met him he just looks at you to make SURE your watching and then will start working out (he has a makeshift gym in his cold ass basement)

If your in a relationship with him you always know where to find him if he’s not in the bathroom manscaping he’s in his cold ass basement working his ass off

He likes when you watch him work out it makes him feel great about himself and he’ll say something like “I’ve still got it, yeah?” When he catches you staring

John “soap” mactavish

Turns it into a full flexing contest with himself he turns you into his mirror

He really likes to work out he’s not like a gym bro or anything but he likes it enough to do it outside of work biweekly

Sometimes before you pick him up from work he’ll be all sweaty because he wants to take a shower with you after working out but he’s a big fan of sending you shirtless pics with 0 context or warning

You can be in the middle of cooking dinner and he’ll send you like 5 different pictures of him flexing and posing in the gym mirror for absolutely no reason

Simon “ghost” Riley

Genuinely either didn’t know that you stare or he’s doing all this physical stuff in front of you on purpose it could be a mood thing

Like if you walk in on him lifting he’s not worried about you looking but if you were to be hanging out with him and THEN he’d start working out then that’s a sign he wants to see if you’ll stare but it looks like hes the one staring and he’s still wearing his mask so it’s so obvious when he’s staring 👁👁

He’s scaring you a lil bit it turns into a little bit of a staring contest (he almost drops a weight on his foot because he’s not paying attention)

After that he’d try and do what gaz did but he’s a little worried because his old broken decrepit ass phone has such shitty quality but somehow you can see all the scars on his ribs and torso so when he takes shirtless pictures he looks like a red room victim

König

He also takes so much pride in his body type it makes him feel more confident sometimes he thinks his physique is slipping because of how much he likes to eat

So when he catches you staring he gets a little burst of confidence and maybe he’ll flex at you a little bit MAYBE

But most of his happiness is inward he thinks about it before he goes to sleep that night smiling kicking his feet like a teenage boy and he tried to send you shirtless pics on snap but he was sweating his ass off and his hands were all wet and he chickened out

((✿: “she’s gotta be running out of cute hello kitty stuffed animal headers!” think again mfs))

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #könig x reader #simon riley x you #john price x reader #cod headcanons #kyle gaz garrick x reader #141 headcanons #john soap mctavish x reader

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the-californicationist · 8 months

Note

Hello hello! I got super happy once i saw your requests open again <3 i love your writing and i would love to see Price and a reader who is too recluse and uptight, cold and distanced. He somehow noticed she likes him and stuff and it turns into what you write best, something hot and more. Basically Price shaking some sense into her, breaking her down? I don’t know if this is too much detail and I don’t know if it gives any ideas. Feel free to ignore. Love you, have a best day 🧡

Thanks so much for the ask! This is really unique, and I like the concept. I'll do my best! <3 <3

TW: female reader, afab, cunnilingus

Price scanned the meeting room as his teams filed in. The 141's operations had grown, now that Shepherd was out of the way, and new recruits with a lot of promise had come in to aid in the operations. Gaz, Ghost, and Soap sat up front, reports prepped and ready to be handed out, the logistics team sat around Alex and Farah, and sometimes, when she wasn't out doing the dirty work, Laswell would hang around the back corner, arms crossed, watching the meeting unfold. But, he was waiting for you.

You were the newest addition. Your specialty with data analysis and reporting had meant a stream of fresh, sparkling intel that was immediately actionable and nearly allowed him to predict the enemy's movements. You were a magician, and you never talked over anyone's head. Very professional, but kind. Beautiful, even though you were not a fresh-faced youth.

You also had a body that would not let him rest. He'd taken more cold showers in the past two weeks than he ever took as a teenager, and his cock was in his hand, hard and drooling, hungry to bury itself between your thick thighs.

He tried not to stare, really, he did. But, you would wear those cargo pants, belted to your waist, and he could see where your generous ass stretched the tight canvas. The way your hips swayed when you walked across the base with your data-tablet made him want to fight someone for you, even though, as far as he could tell, there was no competition in sight.

That was part of the problem. You kept everyone at arm's reach. Well, that was about to change.

Price started the meeting and tried not to keep glancing back to you in your seat. You were listening diligently, doing your job, and he felt downright lecherous at what he was about to do...

"...and so we'll be pairing off for a full facility inventory."

Groans resonated throughout the team. Complaints flooded in.

"Check the board for your partner and meet in Hanger 3. We'll start in the back storage."

"Back storage! Cap'n, unless you're lookin' for flip phones and manuals from 2007, there's nothin' we need in there," Soap protested.

"Well, Sergeant," Price grinned, "We're about to find out. Spring cleaning!"

He felt someone's presence behind him, and when he turned, he was delighted to find you there, shifting from foot to foot, waiting to be heard.

"Yes, Corporal? Do you need something? Going to whinge about the inventory as well?" He joked with you.

"N-no. No, sir. I just... I checked the board, and you are my partner, sir."

Your eyes were wide and bright. You were staring up at him and clutching that data-tablet to your chest like a shield.

He threw an arm around your shoulder and walked with you side-by-side,

"I'm just pullin' your leg, Corporal. Let's get to it."

As you worked together, the ever-observant John Price noticed a few things. First, you would stare at him when you thought he wasn't looking. Second, you would move to the opposite side of the room to work if he decided to relocate. And third, you had a bad habit of chewing on your bottom lip when you got nervous.

"You'd be no good at poker, Corporal," he commented, stacking a set of boxes near you.

"What, sir?" You looked up at him, biting that poor, innocent lip again.

"That bottom lip gives you away," you fixed it as soon as he said it, but he forced you to sit with him and asked you, "Hey, what's going on? You're doing a great job here, but I can't help but feel like you're not keen on being a part of this team."

You shook your head, sighing,

"No, sir. It's not that. I love this team... I just..."

"Just what, Corporal? We're not leaving this storage crate until you tell me. You have a crush on one of my soldiers, or what?"

Fear, now. He could see it all over your face. He reached out tentatively and put a hand on your knee,

"Hey," he dropped his voice to a dark whisper, "It's alright. I won't tell anyone."

Your voice was so small when you answered him, but gods you were brave for answering him,

"Sir... it's you who I shouldn't tell."

Price's breath caught in his chest. All this nervous energy, all this seriousness... for him? You were nervous to be around him?

"Corporal..." He was stunned.

You stood up, quick as a flash,

"I'm sorry, sir. Please forget I said anything."

You were backing away towards the door, looking like you were ready to bolt, but he reached out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

"Me?" He stood above you, his body looming, covering you in the small storage room. It felt like it was getting smaller by the second.

You swallowed, nodding,

"Yes, sir..."

Price reached behind you and popped the metal lock into place, sealing you in,

"Mmm... Corporal, if you only knew how long I've been prayin' you'd say that to me."

"Wh-what? Really? Captain, I didn't --"

He put his thumb on your chin, pulling the skin so that your bottom lip would be freed from your teeth, and he bent to suck it into his mouth. He wasn't kissing you so much as he was working your full, lower lip, slowly and gently, taking it between his own lips and tongue, making you catch your breath.

"In here... I'm not your captain," he smiled, kissing you fully now, "And when I'm not your captain... you give the orders. We can stop, if you want to stop."

He let the news register, showing you how true it was, backing away a bit, giving you room to say no. Price watched your face as the information sank in. It was understood, analyzed, and filed appropriately in that beautiful brain of yours, and then, the results.

You set your tablet down on the boxes and took off your shirt. He still hadn't touched you, happy to let you drive. You pulled his face to yours, placing your hands on his furry cheeks, petting his hair and knocking off his hat until it hung around his neck on its string, almost letting him kiss you, but just before he could, you whispered into his open, gaping mouth,

"I don't wanna stop."

He kissed you, then. So softly it was almost chaste. He matched your energy. If you explored him with your tongue, he explored you just as far. If you spent time kissing his jaw and neck, so did he. After a few minutes of such restrained torture, though, he was breathing heavy, and his body was begging for more.

His hands rubbed across the tight muscles of your neck and down your arms before finally discovering your heavy breasts. He let them fill his warm palms, plucking softly at your nipples and making them harden beneath his fingers.

Price spoke to you as he kissed you, as he fondled you into pliant submission,

"Do you wanna stop, love?"

You shook your head, whispering back,

"I don't want to stop..."

He bent himself like the bough of a great tree, leaning to suck your sensitive nipple into his mouth. Price warmed it with his tongue, and put it between his teeth just enough to make you writhe. Then, he slid a huge hand between your legs and felt the heat you were hiding from him there. He sighed raggedly when he found it, like he had just dropped the weight of the world from his arms.

John pressed the canvas of your pants up into the spot where your folds would part, rubbing the seam against your center, making it shove your clit back and forth along its line, making it swell and tingle. You writhed beneath his teasing, moaning from it.

"Mmm. Do'ya wanna stop, love?"

"No, fuck, no. Don't stop."

He forced open your buckle with a swift pull, snapping the metal tines and popping open your button fly. Tucking his fist into the elastic of your panties, his fingers found their soft, wet prize.

The captain sighed again, that same ragged relief, and just before he opened his mouth to speak to you again, you clasped your hand over it furiously, and warned him,

"Don't you dare fucking stop."

He chuckled, but he said nothing as he sank to his knees, looping one of your legs over his shoulder as he began to eat from your body, hungry and thirsty and needy and ready to be full of you, smearing you all over his beard, smiling all the time.

If you liked this story, please consider buying a coffee for your favorite feral cat <3 Comments, reblogs, and kudos are also appreciated!

AO3 Link

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x you #captain price x female reader #captain price x f!reader

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atypeofherb9922 · 2 months

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What’s with all the Sam hate? She’s only human, of course she’s made some bad decisions, just like the rest of them have. Why are people blaming her for Yasmine crashing into Johnny’s car? People say she’s the worst because she’s entitled, and at the beginning, she was a little bit, but as the series has gone on, she’s become her own person, just like everyone else who has ever been a teenager, Becasue everyone learns and grows. Yes, she hung out with Yasmine and Moon, who were kind of jerks when the show started, but they changed, and she changed, and the entire show is literally about people changing. I mean honestly, I seen people saying that Eli breaking Demetri’s arm wasn’t wrong, and then hating on Sam for being mad about Johnny and Daniel fighting after the Twitter rant, like what? What Eli did was wrong, and he knew that, and apologized, and probably did a lot of apologizing off screen, and Sam ended up apologizing to Tory for what she had done, and Tory did the same, yet people still hate Sam. I mean, she is very rich, and she does get a lot of what she wants, but some of the things that people hate on her for wanting, is just simple human necessities, like needing to take break from everything. The funny thing about it is that I’ve never seen anyone call Anthony entitled, I’m aware that he’s a minor character for quite a few seasons, but he was bossing around Daniel and Amanda for a couple episodes in the first season, and doing things like using Daniel’s money for stuff, but no one ever says he’s entitled, in fact when someone pointed it out, the people hating on Sam were just like, “Oh, well he’s a boy! That stuff doesn’t matter!”, and that’s stupid. Sam is a teenager, teenagers make mistakes, don’t hate on Sam, she doesn’t deserve hate, honestly everyone in Cobra Kai makes stupid, insane decisions that are so human, and natural, and it seems real.

And on the note of hating…

Why does everyone hate Demetri?

Also…

NO ONE IS NERFING HAWK! ANYONE WHO THINKS THAT NEED TO SLOW THEIR ROLL

But also I would like to state that I don’t really really hate anyone in Cobra Kai except for Kreese, and Silver, and sometimes they are kind of cool, every character annoys me and does stuff that is just a bad idea, but I still like them all.

Anyways, goodnight, I need to go to bed, thanks for listening to my soapbox rant

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tatsumessy · 1 year

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How many kids do you two have? - {JJK}

Satoru Gojo

Two kids. He was trying to run an experiment, he wanted his daughter to look like him then his son to look like you. It worked, your little mini me’s, but they both have Satoru’s extroverted personality which you love because you love your husband. HE’S AN AMAZING ASS FATHER!!! Most people at the school enjoy yours and your kids company more than their fathers which you absolutely enjoy. Gojo does tend to spoil your kids always playing the good cop while you’re the responsible one handing out punishments and always yelling, why? Because they act just like their father. It’s a blessing and a curse at the same damn time. “What do you say about having one more kid?” You gave Gojo a look of disgust and kept doing the laundry. “I wanna bite on a baby’s chubby cheeks again.” “That shouldn’t be a reason for me to put my body through hell again.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and started kissing in the crook of your neck. “That’s not the only reason…your pregnancy glow just get me so turned on, I fall in love with you even more each time.” Turning around you face him you reached up to grab his ear and started walking him towards the living room where your two children were sitting. “Children, your father is saying he wants to replace you with a baby.” Letting his ear go you turned towards him, “now you deal with your moody teenagers and their dislike for having a baby in the house.” “You’re cruel.”

Kento Nanami

One. A daughter, he absolute adores his baby girl. HE GOES COMPLETE DADDY SOFTIE MODE. He treats her like she’s precious cargo and don’t worry he doesn’t forget about you, his queen. As much attention he gives to her you get ten fold because he wouldn’t have been able to praise his daughter if it wasn’t for you. Nanami is the perfect husband, father, friend in that order. And trust me when your daughter got into her teenage years she was a pain in the ass to him until he died and she regretted being an ass to him on most days. Other than that she’s an exact copy of him just with long hair, long eyelashes, and just yeah. His twin. Also when he died, she started taking care of you because she knows hard hard his death hit you emotionally but that didn’t stop you from being a mother.

Suguru Geto

Three kids. All sons. And yes if your child doesn’t have the same abilities as their father then he tends to spend less time with him but at the end of the day he’s still his child. He just doesn’t like the fact that one of his children can’t enjoy the daily joys that happen with him. He wants his children to be involved, you understood. Geto isn’t a bad guy and he’s actually a really great father. Sometimes even gives his children curses as gifts which you’ve told him to stop doing that because it was weird but hey you all are a weird family. And the amount of love Geto has shown you since the kids were born was everything you could’ve asked for. It was rocky at first in your marriage but then after your oldest son was born he respected you more and showed you that you were everything to him. With him you’ve learned that all relationships aren’t perfect, sometimes it just needs time.

Toji Fushiguro

Good luck trying to be in a relationship with him and him not getting atleast one child out of you. You got a daughter whole looks exactly like Megumi, unlike Toji, Megs loved and adored his little sister. Any free moment he had he’d spend with her and you. He enjoyed your company just as much as Toji enjoyed yours, Toji was actually more romantic than you thought especially before having your daughter. With Megumi being able to babysit whenever meant that Toji got to take you out on date night and spend more time with you, even surprise you one night with the help of Megumi and your daughter with a proposal. Once you finally said yes after some MAJOR convincing you two got married with your daughter being the flower girl.

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delulu-with-wandanat · 3 months

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Objective: Teenage Dreams.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Tags: Pride month, bisexual Wanda, mutual pining, canon divergence, lesbian Natasha.

A/n: My gift before pride ends lol, it a little rushed but uhh... I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it. It's kind of a crack fic honestly, just good vibe for ye gays :D (Ps. sorry if there are mistakes I kind rushed this andd it's been a while.)

Summary: It's pride month and Wanda still hasn't made her move. Being the self-proclaimed greatest ally, Y/n and two other decided to give them a push.

On lazy days like these, Wanda usually spends it by reading a book, maybe binge watching some shows. Other times she spends it with her brother, but ever since joining the Avengers, Pietro has made it his ultimate goal to have Steve Roger's physique. He trained almost day and night, honestly Wanda could enter the gym at 9 in the morning finding her brother in the middle of a workout, and by the time she was finished he was still there.

Often time he was also with her best friend, who is now his gym buddy, Y/n Romanoff. Who was just as much of a gym rat as Pietro. Honestly, the amount of time they stare at themselves in the mirror was concerning. She's almost sure she had passed a video on social media featuring them titled; 'How to train like an Avenger'

So nowadays she spends her free time alone, even though she wishes she could spend it with a certain beautiful redhead-

Although it wasn't all that bad. Wanda had found a new fixation to spend her time on. Which was Fanfictions.

Now how does one stumbles upon this... wonderful world you might ask? Well for Wanda it started when she was watching a new TV Show she had recently discovered called, The 100. It was fun until they killed off one of her favorite character, Lexa. Wanda naturally dropped the show in an instant. During one of her rants to one of the new recruits, Kate Bishop then sent her a link leading to a website followed a text that read; "The showrunners might break your heart, but fanfiction authors will be there to pick up the pieces."

And Wanda... Fell down the rabbit hole from there.

At first all she searched was merely about wlw couples on her favorite movies and shows, like that one Supergirl TV show she had been recently watching. Or that one cute show called 'Everything Sucks' that got canceled after one season. Basically any wlw couples she started to like, but couldn't be explored due to the showrunners being a pus-

It didn't matter, she founded the holy-site that held all the stories in the world. Then, when she found nothing else to read there, it lead her journey to... a site that shares the same name as drinking bottle; Tumblr. Minus the 'e'.

The site gave her access to a whole new world and whole lot more stories. It was on this website that she found out there was a whole fandom for the Avengers, and many stories was written about them in different scenarios. Sometimes it was cute, other times it was... questionable-

You can't really blame her, can't you? Her name and the word mommy was basically inseparable on this site.

This was where she learned that people have also been 'shipping' one Avenger and the other. Curiosity got the better of the witch when she started to search herself... and a certain former Russian spy. She was surprised to see how many stories were written about them here. Wanda... may have gotten a little out of hand.

This was her guilty pleasure. Reading stories about her crush and herself in a scenario instead of actually trying to talk to her. Can you blame her though? She was what the internet describes as a 'Loser Lesbian'.

The little voice in her head prefers the word 'Useless Lesbian', which wasn't even accurate as she mostly resonates more with Bisexuality-

"Happy gay month, cus you know you bi and stuff!" Ah there it is, the 'little voice' burst through her door unannounced, causing Wanda to yelp and quickly shut her laptop close to hide her 'shameful' activity.

Wanda glared at the young Romanoff who was carrying 3 different items in his hand and approaching her on the bed. "What the fuck is wrong with-"

"Here, I got you a gay balloon cus it got all the color because it's GAY."

"Y/n-" She reluctantly takes the balloon.

"And I gotchu a vinyl album with that Sweater Weather song cus you Bi." He handed her the vinyl, how thoughtful.

"Ok-"

Lastly, "And I baked you a cake that says, 'BeeEE who yoOOUUu aaRREEE, for YooUURE PRiiiDEEEEeeeEE'" He sang the word off tune.

"Ok- Thank you... Uhm-" She grabs all the items and looks at them with confusion. "This is..." Wanda furrowed her eyes at her friend. "Why- Why did you do this, why are you doing this??"

"You know... Cus you're Bi!"

"I'm well aware of that fact."

"Well my dearest Wanda, in this holy month of June I have a very important mission to accomplish." The young Romanoff suddenly jumps on her bed and dramatically opens his arms as if he was some kind of showman. "I'm gonna get you a woman!"

The youngest Maximoff cringes her face and with a flick of her wrist she knock the soldier off her bed, earning a high pitch scream from him. "First of all, you can't get a woman for yourself how do you expect to get me a girlfriend."

"I have plenty of girls!" He said rather defensively as he sat up on the floor.

"And second, why is this so important to you?"

"What you don't want a girlfriend?"

"I still like guys you know."

He rolled his eyes, "I know that, but you always told me you wanted to try dating girls."

"Not just girls... a girl-" She mumbles.

"What was that?" The man raised a teasing eyebrow.

"Nothing! Now shut up, you haven't answered my question." Wanda said while huffing and crossing her arms.

"Because my dearest friend being Bisexual is one thing, but being bi yourself is just sad-" That statement earned him a rightful pillow thrown at him at full speed. Which he thankfully manages to deflect this time with his reflex.

Wanda then groans and plops on her bed. "You're not going to stop, are you?"

"Nope." Y/n even popped the 'p' to emphasize his point. With a roll of her eyes, Wanda agrees with an exaggerated fine and he joined her on the bed with a grin. "Now, first thing on the list is we need to get you some new clothes."

Wanda hastily sat up looked down at her current outfit and glanced at the mirror in her room. She gave him a stinky eye. "What's wrong with my clothes??" This rude bitch-

"Nothing..." Y/n said rather sassily, "I just... think it might need a little spice is all." Without asking for her permission, Y/n grabs her laptop out of her reach and opens it. "I was thinking we could- WHOAAA..."

"What's- NO!" Her eyes widens in panic has her dirty little secret have been exposed. The witch lunges herself to him only for the young super soldier to hold out a hand to keep her at a distance while staring bewildered at the screen before him. "GIVE IT BACK."

"OH MY GOD???? YOu into this shit?!!" Oh the young Romanoff was having the time of his life. He grinned as he looked at what the story was about, "Natasha Romanoff x Reader? Ohhh ho HO, you really llike her huh-?"

"Y/n I swear to god, GIVE IT BACK." She yelled, Wanda was fucking furious. She already had an annoying brother to deal with, what was she thinking adding Y/n into the mix.

"I want to see your blog." It was like she was seeing red, blood thumping in her brain.

Wanda screeched like a maniac, suddenly overpowering the super soldier. She was practically sitting on top of him wrestling with the now closed laptop, Y/n hugged the laptop close. "Y/N I WILL KILL YOU!"

"I JUST WANT TO SEE!"

"NEVER!" Their screaming was probably heard all over the compound as they wrestle for Wanda's laptop. However, a stern voice stopped their childish fight.

"Enough, both of you!" The two whipped their head to the door to see Natasha crossing her arms and looking at them expectantly. The two scurry off of each other and Wanda made a final yank on her laptop out of his reach. The two stood up like guilty children caught in a fight.

"He took my laptop without permission." Wanda spoke up before Y/n could open his mouth. The look of betrayal on his face brings pleasure to Wanda as Natasha's anger was now directed to him.

"You-"

"Y/n, you know better than to take other people's personal things." Natasha glared at her little brother.

"You're just going to believe her right out of the gate?!" He retorted.

"It's the truth!" Wanda said while hugging her laptop tightly.

"You little snitch-" The super soldier turned to face her challengingly. Before the two were about to enter yet another screaming match, Natasha's stern voice puts them in their place once again.

"You two are acting like children. I have enough of this, Y/n if you don't stop this childish nonsense I'll have you grounded from any missions."

"You can't do that?!" His eyes practically bulge out of it's eye socket.

"I can, and I will." Natasha's death stare easily intimidates him as he quickly mumbles an apology to Wanda. The spy's gaze turned to the witch with soft and caring look, unlike the one she gave to her sibling. "Wanda, if he gives you anymore trouble you let me know ok?"

"Thank you, Natasha." Wanda said shyly, a faint blush visible on her cheek. The redhead smiled at her before giving one last glare to Y/n and left to god-knows-where.

It was so painfully obvious that the two liked each other. Except the only one that fail to realize that is themselves. Operation Scarlet Widow was going to be a lot more difficult than he anticipated, Y/n might need a little backup.

"I seriously don't get why you can't just ask her out instead of reading a bunch of stories-"

This annoying fuck- "DON'T talk to me about that!" She suddenly uses her powers to float him out of her room. "I don't wanna hear about it-" She practically throws him out, Y/n lies on the floor while looking at his friend bewildered. Wanda gave one last glare and shuts the door on his face.

"But-"

"And stay out!" Her voice yelled from inside the room.

Being the annoying friend that he is, he got onto his feet and proceeds to bug the shit out of the witch. Y/n started with those gentle knocks on the door. "Honeyyy-" He teased her.

"Ohmyfuckinggod. Don't call me that!" Wanda yells again. Y/n snickers at her response.

"Wanda, come on..." He knocks again, hearing no response the soldier knocks on the door harder. "You can't hide forever, come out!"

"Jokes on you, I already am!"

"Not what I meant, but ok!" He snickers again, clearly Wanda would not be opening the door anytime soon. He makes his way to the gym to recruit some people who shall help him in this mission.

------

Upon entering the training grounds, Y/n found Yelena and Pietro in the middle of a sparring session. Only these two would spend their Sundays training.

"Dearest Brother, nice of you to join us." Of course Yelena would know it was him, despite having her back facing Y/n.

"Let me know when you want to spar with someone who can actually throw a punch." The soldier said with a smirk.

"Fuck you, Romanoff!" The silver-haired speedster gave him the finger before focusing back on his opponent. "You're the one who's lacking, I thought super soldiers could do this all day?"

Y/n scoffed, "Oh please, I can take you down without breaking a sweat. You rely mostly on your powers."

"Barf, are you going to keep bothering us or join us?" Yelena said with a roll of her eyes, using the distraction Pietro surges forward in an attempt to tackle Yelena. Although she may not have powers, her skills were beyond his years. Using the techniques taught by none other than her own sister, Yelena manages to take down the speedster with ease.

"Hah!" She snorted seeing Pietro with his face on the ground and tapping the floor to announce his defeat. Yelena gets off of him with a smirk on her face.

"Oh come on! If this was a real fight you know you wouldn't stand a chance." The speedster grumbles.

"I'm not denying that, but take that power away and you're just another damsel in distress."

Pietro narrowed his eyes. In the midst of her overconfidence, he uses his powers to knock Yelena on the feet, causing her to fall backwards onto her ass. Normally, her instinct would've kicked in and she would prepare for the fall, but this time Pietro stands in triumph while crossing his arms with a smirk on his face.

"Bitch." Yelena mumbles in Russian before dusting herself off.

"Now if you're both finished, I would like to make an offering." Y/n said while putting his fingers together like some menace business man with bad intention.

"You want to steal Tony's car and do a high speed race on the highway? I call dibs on the Mclaren." Yelena spoke up.

"So long as I get the Ferrari-" Pietro chimes in.

"No, but we'll get back into that because I always wanted to try his Audi. What I have is, how would you feel on playing cupid for our dearest sisters?" Yelena only raises an eyebrow while Pietro squints his eyes.

"I am getting sick of seeing them practically eye-fucking each other at the gym." Yelena started.

"Hey, that's my little sister." Pietro said while puffing his chest out playing the overprotective big brother role.

Yelena rolled her eyes, "She's 27 dipshit, and you're only 12 minutes older."

"Still my little sister..."

"Look we can all agree that these two needs to sort out their feelings, and since the two are completely useless as one is an idiot who thinks staring will magically get her a date. And the other has deep traumatic issues where she struggles to have proper relationship due to her upbringing. I'd say, maybe they need a little third party help?" Y/n opens his arms as if to wait if any of the two objects.

"And how do you plan on pulling this off?" Yelena asked.

"I was hoping you might help me figure that out." Y/n threw back the question. Yelena rolled her eyes.

"So you came to us for help empty handed?"

"Well I would argue dedication and sheer will counts for something." Y/n puffed out his chest, he clearly has nothing.

"We don't even know if Natasha likes Wanda back." Pietro chimes in, which earns him a raised eyebrow from the two Russians.

"It's hard to miss."

"Yeah, I can see the oblivious genes runs in the Maximoff's."

Maybe it was less obvious to someone who was not close to Natasha, she was a trained spy overall. And these two were practically raised to be more observant than others. Or that could just be the oblivious Maximoff genes.

"All I know is, Wanda has had this crush ever since she stole Natasha's jacket."

Y/n furrowed his eyebrows at Pietro. "Wasn't that like... a year ago with Ultron?" Yelena barks out a laugh, "You mean to tell me she's been pinning on Natasha for a year??"

Pietro shrugs his shoulders and smirked, "Wanda has bigger pool, but I'm the one getting all the girls."

"Barf-" Yelena said while fake gagging, earning a jab on the rib by Pietro. "If we want a shot for our dearest love birds we have to be quick, cause I'm noticing a certain android having his eyes on Wanda."

"Who, the toaster?" Pietro said while cringing his face.

"Ok... I can see you don't seem so fond of the guy, and Vision's not so bad y'know-" Y/n said, it's not that he was close with Vision. But he didn't understand why Pietro would look so utterly disgusted.

"No, he's not bad. But if this works out, you and I would be brothers for real, y'know?"

Damn... This was true brotherhood. "Bro..."

"Bro..."

The two hugged like it was something out of a bromance movie. Yelena could only watch with her arms crossed, wondering what the fuck was going on. However, while the two gym rats were having their moment, a plan formed in her mind.

-------

The trio sprang into action in an instant, ordering a bunch of pizzas, heading to the city to grab some supplies, thankfully alcohols were already taken cared of.

"Ok! Now we just need everybody here." Y/n said with a satisfied grin whilst taking a shot to give himself a head start. Yelena mimicked his movement and so did Pietro.

"FRIDAY, assemble the team to the common room." The AI gave Pietro the acknowledgement, soon enough the team entered the common room with a confused look.

"What's going on?" Steve was first to spoke up as he looked around the decorated room with food and beverages.

Wanda glances to a certain redhead a few meters away from her, Natasha initially had a bored look on her face, arms crossed, and was probably mentally preparing herself to whatever the hell her siblings had in mind. And it was as if the spy felt a pair of eyes on her she looked to the side and locked eyes with Wanda, instantly, the corner of Natasha's mouth pulled into a tiny smile and a small shrug.

Wanda blushed instantly and turned her gaze to the floor, tucking a hair behind her ear. The trio, saw this and glances at one another.

"Well dearest teammates." Y/n started, taking a microphone and speaking to it as if he was an mc. "Tonight will be the night-"

"What's with the mic, Y/n?" Natasha asked with a roll of her eyes.

"I was getting there," He responded while putting his hand up, "Tonight Is the night we let loose!" He whooped, yet the only one cheered with him was Pietro.

"Seriously?" Natasha asked with a raised eyebrow.

Y/n scoffed at his teammates, looking at all the low faces and annoyed faces. "Sam! Come on, you're always game." He asked, needing ATLEAST someone to be in it.

Sam sighed, "Man, I would but honestly I was looking forward to sleep early tonight." Y/n looked at him as if his heart had been stabbed.

"Wanda??" He asked his best friend, and Wanda groaned at him. Oh this was a rough start.

"Honestly, I'm in the mood for some me time and not... whatever this is." She replied indicating to the alcohol bottles on the table.

"Sorry kid, looks like everyone is super tired." Steve added with a pity look, "Maybe next time plan things out."

"But that's boring!" Pietro exclaimed, and speeds to every single one handing out a shot glass filled with vodka.

"It's not just any normal drinking night, there's singing involved." Yelena finally chimed in while dunking another shot.

"Yelena, you can't possibly be part of this." Natasha asked her sister, and Yelena shrugged in respond.

"Any reason to grab Tony's alcohol is as good as any." The blonde replied.

Everyone glanced at one another, shot glass in hand, contemplating their decision. "Think of it like a team bonding." Y/n talked again, he cocked his head at Yelena who turns on a song and a familiar tune started playing, a song that would get anyone from any generation dancing (excluding Steve, perhaps). Dancing Queen by Abba.

Y/n had a goofy grin on his face, dancing into the tune, Pietro followed through while Yelena occasionally bopped her head. Sam was the first to grow a grin on his face. Steve, Natasha and Wanda looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "It's Abba!" The falcon said as a matter of factly, he then downed in shot.

"That's the spirit!" Y/n said excited as Sam danced to his direction.

Hesitantly, cap started to walk forward earning a disbelief gasp from Natasha. "Rogers, really...?"

"I mean, I really did enjoyed Mama Mia...." The American boy said with a sheepish smile.

As soon as the lyric's intro came in, Y/n puts an arm around Steve with a microphone in hand. "You can dance!"

"You can jive!" Sam pulled the microphone to himself.

"Having the time of your life!" Those who were already in the circle sang simultaneously, Natasha rolled her eyes but if you squint you could see a tiny smile there. Meanwhile Wanda shifted closer to Natasha watching the group in amusement.

"See that girl!" Y/n pointed at the two, and the other followed. "Watch that scene, digging the dancing queen." He sang, "Come on dancing queens get in here!"

Natasha shook her head fondly, holding back a smile.

"Wanda, Wanda, I know you want to join us girrlll..." Y/n said playfully to his best friend, the boys and Yelena were beckoning her to join. Natasha looked to her side and true enough, Wanda was biting her lips, contemplating whether or not she should join. "You like this song don't lie! Natasha, help me out." Wanda did in fact like this song.

The way her body swayed subtly to the rhythm, her eyes glinting with anticipation, the only thing that's holding Wanda back was herself. Fuck it, Natasha thought to herself. She then held Wanda's arms and dragged her into the group who cheered when they joined. "Wha- Nat, no I-"

"Come on, little witch." Natasha said, turning to face Wanda and raised her shot glass. "Loosen up a bit."

God, Wanda couldn't decline, especially when her crushed smirked like that. They clinked their shot glass and downed their drinks.

------

As the clock got closer to midnight, the more they drank, and the more they drank, the more chaotic it gets. The song they choose ranges to many different genres, in the beginning Pietro and Y/n mostly sang something boyish, like rap or rock. Then as the two gets progressively drunker they sang something what would be describe as 'Girly Pop'.

Steve sang some old 40s song, which was refreshing especially after hearing Y/n's off tune singing voice. Everybody except Natasha was surprised to hear Yelena singing American Pie wholeheartedly, Natasha even sat next to her and sang it with her briefly.

Although the highlight of the night was probably the time Yelena, Pietro and Y/n sang and dance to the song 'Wannabe' by Spice Girls. Natasha had to hid her face with her hand while Sam was laughing his ass off and leaning to Steve for support. Wanda was like a giggling maniac the whole time as she was secretly recording it for some black mailing material on her twin.

Mid-song, Yelena pulled her brother subtly and pushing a very drunk Pietro forward. "Take it for a spin, Maximoff!"

"So, here's a story from a to z-!" Pietro started rapping his part drunkenly.

"She's not drunk enough." Yelena said to Y/n who was trying to stable himself.

"Yep, the alcohol hasn't hit her yet, and Pietro's not going to be much help-" Y/n covered his mouth suddenly as he felt a vomit, he then answered after seeing Yelena's raised eyebrow. "Sorry- Don't worry I got this, hold a bottle."

"Slam your body down and wind it all around!" Pietro continued singing with Yelena twirling his ass in what this generation would describe as 'slay' manner, Y/n drunkenly sauntered over to Wanda who panicked when he started pulling her to the make shift stage.

"No- No, let me go, Y/n!" Wanda protested.

"Just take a shot and come with!" Y/n practically yanked her and they stumbled over to the middle of the living room. "Cheers!" He said while knocking his glass with hers and Wanda finally relents and knocked back her shot.

"-make it last forever, friendship never ends!" Y/n sang while putting an arm around his best friend, Wanda cringes at the bitter taste of the alcohol, she had a few drinks in already but she was never really fond at the taste of vodka.

"Wanda!" Yelena said, suddenly putting an arm around the her as well. "Oh, honey, you emptied your glass already."

"N-no, Yelena, I just dra-"

"Don't you worry, I got you." Yelena said while pouring her another shot, Wanda's eyes widens. She glances to the side and locked eyes with Natasha who raised a teasing eyebrow at her. "Yes, now we cling!" The blonde haired woman said while raising her glass.

Reluctantly, Wanda clinked their glass awkwardly and took a deep breath before taking another shot. She doesn't know how many shots she have taken from that moment, all she knew was that she felt like dancing.

Natasha watched as Wanda's dance move progressively become more fluid and at ease in contrast to her usual shy self. The spy smiled to herself, dance with her. Natasha shook her head at the impulsive thoughts. At some point during the song 'Teenage Dreams' by Katy Perry, Wanda was handed a mic by Yelena. Thankfully this time Wanda was drunk enough not to refuse, and instead grinned like a goof.

When Wanda sang the second verse, Natasha almost lost her breath because she sounded so... beautiful.

"We drove to Cali and got drunk on the beach. Got a motel and built a fort out of sheets."

Wanda sang with her eyes closed, smile on her face, swaying her body to the rhythm. "I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece, I'm complete." The witch opened her beautiful green eyes just to have a similar looking ones staring right back at her.

Wanda giddily approached Natasha and extend her hand, "Wanda-"

"Come onn, Tasha!" Wanda pleaded. Tasha, well that's new-

Natasha hesitantly looked around, the trio were holding onto each other while slurring to the song, Sam had passed out, and Steve... Well, he gave Natasha a knowing look before helping Sam up to his feet and gave Natasha a look that says 'Don't mess this up, Romanoff.' And walking off with a drunken Sam.

"We can dance, until we die. You and I..." Wanda sang waiting for Natasha to finally grab her hand, finally the spy relents and took the witch's offering hand. "-we'll be young forever!"

Wanda practically yanks Natasha into the middle of the living room.

"You make me feel like I'm livin' a teenage dream. The way you turn me on, I can't sleep. Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back!"

The younger woman puts a hand on Natasha's shoulder, swaying her hips while singing the lyrics. Natasha was unsure if she should put her hand on Wanda, keep it to the side, on Wanda's waist perhaps?

"My heart stops." The witch suddenly tilt Natasha's chin so their eyes meet. "When you look at me," Natasha's breath hitched in her throat, "just one touch...." And the rest of the lyrics seems to died on Natasha's ears as all she could see was a drunken state Wanda making her confession crystal clear.

Wanda turned and moved her body sensually against Natasha, without hesitation, the older woman puts a firm hand on Wanda's hips to guide her moves. Wanda shivered when she felt Natasha's hot breath on her ear. "Imma get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans." She grabs Natasha's hand and trail it up her body, a silent plea to the older woman to touch her. "Be your teenage dream tonight..."

Fuck... if Natasha had no self-restraint, she would've taken Wanda here and there. "Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans" Wanda turns around to face Natasha again and this time the younger one guided Natasha's hand to rest on her thighs. "Be your teenage dream tonight...."

The song reached it's mini pause. Wanda, almost in desperation and system full of alcohol wrapped her arms around Natasha and leaned in til their nose was touching. "I want to kiss you so bad..." She whispered.

"I-" The redhead was at lost for words, her eyes looking deep into those beautiful green eyes, searching for any signs of hesitation. Blown pupils were looking right back at her, slowly it travels down to Natasha's lips. Fuck this.

As soon as the song started again, Natasha gently cup Wanda's face with one hand and pulled her into a soft kiss. Oh Wanda's heart could explode right about now, for a second her mind became stone-cold sober so it could remember this moment properly. Wanda drops the microphone she was holding and puts her hand on the older woman's cheeks, using her thumb to caress her soft delicate skin.

"You make me, Feel like I'm livin' a teenage dream The way you turn me on, I can't sleep Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back."

The two women were now lost in their own world, they failed to notice the cheers from their own respective (very drunk atm) siblings. Wanda was taller than Natasha, but she went on her tippy toes and wrapped her slender arms around the spy. Natasha craned her neck a little, smiling into the kiss, her arms securely on (her) the little witch's waist.

"My heart stops, when you look at me. Just one touch, now baby I believe this is real. So take a chance and don't ever look back."

Wanda felt like she was on cloud nine, feeling Natasha's soft lips on hers. Oh those sweet plump lips she's been day dreaming about for months, honestly, she felt like the main character in a movie. A teenager if you will in a coming off age movie, is this what Simon felt like from Love, Simon? The song was quite spot on, as Natasha made her feel like a teenager once again, or at least what she assumes a teenager would feel. She never really got to properly enjoyed her teenage years, but here she is. With the woman of her dreams.

"We're siblings for real!" They finally broke the kiss after hearing a drunken Y/n made the statement, arms on both Yelena and Pietro who were just as equally drunk as him. Pietro mimicked his sentence, and Yelena only nodded her head while occasionally raising her glass. Natasha and Wanda shared a look as they held each other, the spy snorted while her counterpart giggled at the scene.

It seems like the trio had put Katy Perry's song on shuffle, because the beat to 'Last Friday Night' started playing.

They started chanting "We did it!" matching their words to the tune of the song, the two couple shared a look.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" Natasha asked, a small smile on her face.

"Yes, please." Wanda replied shyly before being dragged out of the living room by Natasha.

-------

The witch woke up groggily on her bed, her eyes needed time to adjust to the light that were peaking into her room. She groaned and fell back onto the bed with a thud, shielding herself from the light like a vampire allergic to it. "Ugh... what did Yelena put in my drinks." She grumbles.

All of the sudden everything came rushing back into her memory like a tidal wave. I kissed Natasha...

She hastily sat on her bed and looked around. She remembered they kissed, but... how did they end up here. Wanda remembered Natasha asking her to move out of the living room, oh my god did we slept together? The witch's face started to match her battle suit as she thought of the possibility, wish I could've remembered.

Her throat felt dry so she decided to grab herself some drinks in the kitchen. And to her surprise, Natasha was already there. Humming to herself and cooking breakfast, Wanda let in a sharp breath at the sight. Of course, being the trained spy that she is, Natasha greeted Wanda without having to turn around.

"Good morning, Wanda. Slept well?" Natasha asked kindly.

"I don't know how you do that." Wanda muttered.

The spy chuckles to herself, "What I was trained for, little witch. I already put a glass of water for you by the table. Bacon and eggs alright?"

Wanda glanced at the table and surely enough Natasha already prepped a big jug of water and a glass for her. "Oh thank you, you're a godsent..." The younger woman took a seat and dawned her water, and then also her second glass of water.

Natasha walked by her and set a plate for both herself and Wanda. "What a night was it?" She said with a hint of tease.

The brunette only nodded her head while drinking her water like it was the last one on earth. She dropped her glass with a sigh of relief and glances at Natasha, a faint blush appeared on her cheek almost immediately. Wanda cleared her throat before answering, "It was, thank you for breakfast."

"You're welcome." She replied simply, her body still angled a little to the side, one arm propped on the head of the chair whilst staring intently at Wanda.

"Natasha, I..." Wanda started, oh god suddenly her throat feels dry again. The spy gave a small nod, urging her to continue. The younger woman started fidgeting with her finger. "I don't regret it," Wanda finally looks at her. "Kissing you, all of it, I don't regret any of it."

A smile tugged the corner of Natasha's lips, but before she could answer, Wanda started rambling on.

"B-but it's ok if you don't feel the same. Or that it was just a heat in the moment kind of thing."

"Wanda, relax." The older woman put a gentle hand on Wanda, she inhaled sharply at Natasha's action. "Listen... I'm no better at this. However, if your interested, I would like to take you out on a date." Natasha smiled at her, oh god, Wanda's heart was beating a mile minute. Wait, wait, she said date?

"I- Yes, I would love that." Wanda averted her gaze, the intensity of Natasha's green eyes was too much. The sheer intensity of the spy's gaze could turn her into a puddle of mess.

"Good, I've been dying to try this restaurant." Natasha said while turning her body now to face her breakfast, she took one bite of the bacon before continuing. "I hope Southeast Asian cuisine isn't too spicy for you." The spy said teasingly.

"Oh please, you underestimate me." Wanda responded with a slight bump of their shoulders, yet a question still lingers on her mind. "Hey uh... Sorry, I was just wondering. Did we uh... do anything?"

"What do you mean? We kissed." Natasha answered cluelessly.

"Yeah, but I remember you took me to my room. I couldn't remember anything from there, so... I was just wondering if we did anything." Wanda asked, her voice progressively gets more timid the more she explains.

"Hmmmm, like what? Watching a movie?" The spy said while looking up to the ceiling as if deep in thoughts, small smirk on her face.

"Tasha, stop messing around." Wanda said with a playful eyeroll.

"Tasha, huh? That's new." She continued to teased her little witch. Wanda playfully pouted her lips, of course Natasha couldn't help but give in to that. "Don't worry, little witch, nothing happened. I took you to your room, we made out for a little bit and before you finally fell a sleep in my arms. It was a adorable." Natasha added the last bit with a shrug and a smirk.

Wanda's face got increasingly red, "Ugh..." She groaned at hid her face in her hand. "I'm sorry."

"Don't hide that pretty face, as I said, it was adorable." Natasha pried away Wanda's hand, the witch relents and was greeting with a fond smile from Natasha. One she rarely saw, god she's so fucking beautiful.

And unfortunately for them, it had to be ruined by the trio... Again.

"Ughh.... my head-" Y/n groaned.

"I feel like skipping gym today." Pietro chimed in.

"Keep up." Yelena responded with a bored tone. She was sweating, probably went on a run.

Wanda and Natasha mentally cursed at themselves and returned to their own respective breakfast. The trio rummages through the kitchen, finding cereals and bowls, Yelena opted for an apple instead. They sat down across Natasha and Wanda, Y/n was first to point out the obvious of course.

"So...?" He asked them excitedly.

"So what?" Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

Only for him to raised his eyebrow right back, "Did you guys shag?" Yelena piped in, Pietro groaned.

"No, don't answer that-" The older Maximoff covered his ears while Wanda shrunk in her seat.

"I'll take that as a yes!" Y/n yelled excitedly.

"First of all, we didn't." Natasha said firmly, "And second, I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Oh, but it is." The redhead narrowed her eyes at him, but it was too early to deal with her brother's antics.

"Look whatever you saw, zip it." Natasha stated, "I personally want to keep this under wrap, if this goes out to the press they're going to have a lot of questions and I don't want to deal with that."

"I'll second that." Wanda muttered, casting Natasha a grateful look to which the older woman smiled in response.

Y/n scoffed, "Whatever, I'm great at keeping secrets. Beside, I'm just glad the whole sexual tension can now be resolved-" He shuts up immediately upon seeing Natasha's glare.

After a few minutes of silence and eating their breakfast, Y/n's phone notification started going off like crazy. "Oh, Piet I think one of our videos got viral."

"Where let me see." Pietro leaned over to take a look, and upon opening the app, their eyes quickly widens. "Why would you upload that?!"

"I didn't! I must've- Fuck..." Y/n panicked, and by that, really panicked.

"What's going on?" Natasha asked.

"Nothing!" The two men said simultaneously, fuck... if Natasha finds out they're screwed. However, before they could delete the evidence, Natasha snatched the phone from her brother's hand. Wanda leaned closer to take a look and gasped. Yelena only snorted and excuse herself as she had an idea where this was going.

It was a footage of them, kissing, wrap up in each other's arms, lip tight in a passionate lock. Fuck, Katy Perry was right, Pictures of last night ended up online and they were screwed. "Y/n..." Natasha said warningly.

Without a second thought Y/n dashed away from the table with Pietro who zooms past him with his superspeed.

"I'll fucking kill you both!" Was Natasha's last word before hunting them down one by one.

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