dragonsgambitrp

[paddockletters]

style pit stop | max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reader summary: Max lets y/n dress him up for a change, showing off a new look at the paddock author´s note: first story with Max, and you have no idea how much I enjoyed it! I've been wanting to write for him for a while, and well, I loved the result and hope you do too.

It started as a casual comment during breakfast in our hotel room, the sun pouring through the windows, illuminating the crisp white sheets of our bed. Max and I were preparing for the upcoming race weekend, and the atmosphere was light, filled with the excitement that always accompanied a race.

“Max, I swear your entire closet is just Red Bull jackets, white T-shirts, and jeans. Nothing else,” I said, leaning over the table, eyeing his typical outfit of the day.

 “I happen to think I’ve got a classic style. Simple and effective.” Max raised an eyebrow, feigning offense.

 “Simple is an understatement. I mean, even AlphaTauri has given you all this fancy stuff to try, and you just let it sit there. Have you even worn half of it?” I rolled my eyes playfully.

“What am I supposed to do with half of that? Wear it to a race? You’d just laugh.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee

“Of course I’d laugh!” I retorted, grinning. “But I’d also help you look better. Bet you wouldn’t let me dress you for one day, then. Try something different.”

 “Fine. I’ll take your bet. But if anyone laughs, you’re paying for dinner.” Max chuckled, clearly intrigued.

Within minutes, I was rummaging through his suitcase, pulling out the neglected AlphaTauri clothes he claimed were “too much effort” to style. I held up a pristine white button-up and slim-fit black trousers, a sleek gray turtleneck, and a pair of black boots that had clearly never seen the light of day.

“Look at this! You could rock this outfit!” I said, holding the turtleneck against his chest.

Max gave me a skeptical look as he reluctantly pulled it on, but I couldn't help grinning as he finally stood up. The way it hugged his frame was… honestly, distracting.

 “It feels kind of tight.” He turned to the mirror, tugging at the sleeves.

“It’s supposed to fit,” I insisted, smirking. “Now, for the trousers.”

Max fumbled a bit with the slim black pants, grumbling as he zipped them up.

“I look like I’m about to go to some fancy dinner,” he complained, though I could see he was beginning to enjoy the attention.

“Exactly the point,” I replied, holding up the leather boots. “And these. They’ll add a bit of height too.”

He scoffed but slipped them on anyway, taking a few exaggerated steps around the room like he was testing new racing boots.

“Happy now?”

“Very,” I replied, snapping a quick photo. “Now let’s get to the paddock before you change your mind.”

The reaction at the paddock was priceless. As soon as we stepped in, Lando spotted us and nearly choked on his coffee, doing a double-take.

“Wait, Max… are you actually dressed up? Did y/n have a part in this?”

“Blame her,” Max said, giving me a mock glare.

“Mate, I didn’t even know you owned a turtleneck. You look like you’re about to do a TED Talk.” Lando circled him, taking in the outfit.

“Or go to a very exclusive dinner,” Pierre teased, coming up next to us, flashing me a grin. “Nice work, y/n. About time someone taught him some style.”

 “Alright, you’ve all had your fun. Can we please get back to normal now?” Max rolled his eyes, giving me a helpless look.

“Oh, no way,” I laughed, linking my arm with his. “You’re keeping it on all day. And just think, you’re setting new fashion standards for the grid.”

As we entered the Red Bull hospitality, the reactions came in waves: team members did double takes, fans gasped, and then there was Checo, who took one look at Max and immediately burst into laughter.

“Dios mío, Max! I didn’t even recognize you,” Checo said, giving me a grin. “So, y/n finally got her way?”

“Finally?” I echoed, pretending to be offended. “Please, Checo. It wasn’t even that hard. A little style goes a long way.” 

Christian strolled over, eyebrows raised as he took in Max’s look.

“Well, well, Max, didn’t know you had it in you,” he joked, clapping Max on the back. “AlphaTauri’s sales will skyrocket after today. You could be their new poster boy.”

“Honestly, I think we should get her to dress all the drivers. Just imagine how well AlphaTauri would sell with these outfits!” Checo chimed in, a teasing glint in his eyes.

 “I’ll dress all of you if you want. Just wait until I’m done with Max.” I laughed, joining in the fun.

“You’re all too easily impressed. But maybe y/n should take her fashion skills elsewhere and help Checo. He could use the help.” Max smirked, glancing at me

“Oh no, Max, you’re on your own with this one. Besides, I doubt I could pull off the ‘turtleneck model’ look as well as you.” Checo raised his hands in defence, shaking his head with a laugh.

I snickered, nudging Checo playfully.

“Are you sure? I was thinking I could start dressing you and Max in matching outfits. You know, really take this team bonding to the next level.”

Max chuckled, draping an arm around my shoulders.

“You hear that, Checo? Get ready. Y/N’s got big plans for you, too.”

 “If this turns into some kind of Red Bull makeover challenge, I’m blaming both of you.” Christian couldn’t contain his laughter, shaking his head.

Checo leaned in, stage-whispering to me.

“Just don’t let her get me in that turtleneck, okay? I have a reputation to keep.”

“Noted,” I replied with a wink. “But we’ll see what I can do.”

By the time we reached the main area, I was wearing his oversized Red Bull jacket, practically swimming in it, while he strutted around in his AlphaTauri ensemble.

Fans caught on quickly, cameras flashing as they captured the two of us walking arm in arm, with Max.

“Look, there’s your fan club,” I teased, nudging him playfully as we passed a group of fans eagerly pointing their cameras at him.

Max smirked, leaning down to whisper. “I bet they wish I’d dress like this all the time.”

We reached his garage, and one of the engineers gave him an approving nod.

“You clean up well, Verstappen,” he commented, giving me a grin. “And y/n, you’re pulling off the Red Bull look better than he does.”

 “Unbelievable. I get roasted in my own team garage?” Max pretended to be offended.

“You’re the one who agreed to this!” I teased, nudging him as we walked further inside.

He shook his head, pulling me closer. “Just remember this next time you’re insisting I need more ‘style.’ I went through a whole day looking like some model just to prove you wrong.”

“Oh, please,” I laughed, leaning into him. “Admit it—you loved it.”

Max grinned, brushing a quick kiss to my temple. “Maybe. But only because I have you to make it fun.”

[katiascraft]

Hi!! I've been obsess with your works

Now, hear me out because your poll stroke an idea in me 👀👀

How about: Argentine!Reader x Oscar Piastri, and starts teaching him spanish so he can understand Franco's Interviews

Thank you!!

Ooooh yes yes yes!!! Here it is and I hope you like it 💌 thank you for your requests and support! I really appreciate it mwak mwak 😙 (sorry it’s a bit late but better late than never!)

——————————————————————————————

“Indirectas Directas” | OP81

Part 1 -> “Made in Argentina: The Series” (Oscar’s Version)

Parings: Oscar Piastri x Argentine!Reader.

Summary: you and Oscar have known each other since your best friend Franco Colapinto started competing in F3. You always had a crush on the Australian pilot. You have been friends for a while now but the friendship got closer since Franco got in F1 and you can see each other every race weekend. The butterflies starts for both of you. Do you really just wanna be friends? You teaching him “piropos” from your country may have subliminal messages.

Now playing: “IMÁN (Two of Us)” by Maria Becerra.

Word count: +1.2k.

Warnings: a few curse words. Pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: alrightyyyyy I hope this is good! And I really recommend Maria! I love herrrr my queen!! I did my best with the piropos jajaja Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

“Hola, todo bien?” Oscar said carefully and weirdly remembering what you taught him a few seconds ago. You nodded proud of his Spanish.

“Todo bien, ¿qué contas?” You said in your Argentine accent making him open his eyes wildly panicking. He loved your voice in Spanish; it was slightly higher pitched than in English. In English you have a deeper voice for some reason. Of course he asked about it and you explained it may be because of the pronunciation of the words. It's really so different from one language to the other.

“What the hell did you ask?” He said giggling a little, making you laugh too.

“I asked you what’s up” you explained and wrote down that phrase in the little notebook he brought with a pen. All mc claren branded.

The friendship between you two has become closer with each race. You were good friends before but not that close. It was something either of you couldn’t explain. Like your bodies were driven directly to one another unconsciously. You didn’t want to think too much about it. You didn’t want to overthink it.

His face was like ‘oh yeah right it makes sense’. He smiled at your handwriting so rounded and legible. Unlike his. His was a little messy.

“Yo estoy carrera hoy” he tried to answer it without asking how to. You laughed and he blushed. “This is embarrassing, it's really hard to connect the words” he said shyly and you found it so cute.

“It was close though don’t feel bad. Spanish it’s super complicated for non-Latin language speakers. We have like 20 tenses and shit. It’s a mess” you explained to cheer him up. He loved the fact you knew so much about languages because you also knew how to talk Portuguese and Italian pretty perfectly in his opinion. He has heard you even trying to speak French with Pierre last weekend. He was impressed.

“Yeah I get it now” he said grinning. “Must be nice to flirt in Spanish like I don’t know like you automatically sound sexier and more interesting” he said, making you laugh. “No really like I heard Carlos talking to an interviewer the other day and I think I am in love actually” he said, making you laugh even more. He loved making you laugh. Your laugh was like a drug to him. You looked way too cute doing so.

“Well I don’t know actually but in Argentina we have some top level flirting like really great phrases. Let me teach you some. Wait I’ll look for some on google so I can help myself remember” you said excited about it because you knew it was gonna be bizarre and funny at best.

“Phrases? Like roses are red and that kind of stuff?” He asked curiously and you nodded looking at your phone.

He couldn’t help but get distracted by the way you looked. Like every other race weekend you were wearing one of the million Argentina tees you have in your wardrobe. Your skin was glowing because of the sunscreen making your freckles stand out even more. You dyed your hair blond a few weeks ago and it looked incredible on you. He wouldn’t have expected that change but it looked so good on you. Anyway, he was convinced that anything you do to your hair will always look good always. Because you were beautiful. And he thought that was dangerous. You’re supposed to be friends right? And he knows Franco will kill him if he finds out he likes you. But he couldn’t help it. You were so interesting to him. You went everywhere with your mate and sang a lot of football songs he didn’t understand but you looked so happy singing them with Franco. Like he was captivated by your foreign beauty. So different from Australia or Europe or even the United States. You were loud and always laughing. Your bright smile always makes everyone so happy. All of the boys loved you. You were the life of every party. And you also knew so much about formula 1 it was impressive. Then you told him you were studying for an engineering degree and everything made sense. You loved the sport. And you were the proud friend. He loved that you were so passionate about everything. Even now that you have this teacher and student dynamic, you take it so seriously. He loved it. And he liked it even more because he knew that you were a teacher back in your country. And he could see how much you love to teach and you were actually really good at it.

“Alright I found the first one!” You said already laughing. “Okay ready?” He nodded, smiling, waiting for your magic voice to pronounce the weirdest shit but sound amazing.

“Mi amor, quien fuera cemento para sostener ese monumento” you said and started laughing because his face was a poem.

“What the hell?” He said laughing as well. “What does it mean? It really sounded terrible, " he said dramatically.

“It means: my love, who could be cement to hold that monument” he bursted out laughing.

“What? I don’t know if it’s geniuous or rude to be honest” he said sincerely making you laugh.

“Oh my god that was so cringe I love it” you said looking for another one.

“Don’t even try to make me pronounce that last one please” he warned you funny. You denied with your head.

“Okay I found another one listen: tu con tantas curvas y yo sin frenos. Try to translate it” you said because there were words you already taught him.

“Oh my god alright. Repeat it please?” You repeated it and he thought for a few seconds.

“Uh tu curvas y yo frenos?” He said confused. You giggled a little but applauded proudly.

“Yes! You're getting better Oscky” you said sweetly. “It was: you with so many corners and I have no brakes” you said, smiling funny.

“Oh like the curves of the body right?” You nodded at his questions. “Oh alright I get it! So is like double meaning”

“Exactly” you answered. “Alright last one: besar es el lenguaje del amor, te importaría comenzar una conversación conmigo?” You said blushing. Your subconscious chose this one without leaving you a warning.

“You said something with kiss right?” He asked and you nodded. He blushed too. You were like two teenagers blushing and giggling.

“I said: kissing it’s the language of love. Would you mind starting a conversation?” You explained.

“You wanna kiss me?” His words slipped through his lips.

“Maybe I do” your words slipped through your lips.

You were both so red. An awkward silence made its presence.

“Oscar, sorry to interrupt but Zac is calling us both. Hey y/n, you good darling?” Lando appeared out of nowhere so save yourselves from the worst silence situation you’ve ever been into. Lando hugged you kissing your cheek and you smiled at him. Oscar took his things ready to go.

“All good Land. Hope you have a good reunion. See you after the practices!” You said waving to him. And Oscar gave you a cheeky smile.

Holy shit you’re fucked.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Little bright colored outfit with a fun vest ~

(shoes from ebay like 10 years ago. everything else is thrifted)

[milliesfishes]

꣑ৎ౨ৎthrowing a halloween party as coriolanus' first lady (part two)꣑ৎ౨ৎ fem reader x coriolanus snow

The contents of your list hadn't stopped banging around in your head for the last few weeks. Every second you were awake you were thinking, planning, imagining something to do with your party.

You felt as though you were moving in slow motion while the rest of the world raced by. And some days it was the other way around. Either way, time did not move the way it was supposed to, and you suffered for it.

Now as you looked at the various papers spread across your desk, it was like the clock was taunting you. Leaning back in your chair, you tried to view it all from a higher perspective. It felt like a mess now but maybe it would be better put together?

Running a hand through your hair, you shut your eyes briefly, trying to ward off the headache that had been pounding at your head for two days. The flowers, the food, your costume. Your eyes flew open. Your costume. You needed to go pick it up so ensure the measurements were correct.

Standing up so quickly that spots dotted your vision, you smoothed the front of your sleek sweater dress and searched for wherever you'd discarded your shoes. Sudden movements only made your head pound worse but still you rushed. There was no time to slow down.

Even as you sook out your heels, you were going over details. Make sure it's the right brand of champagne, approve the decoration sketches-

Aha. You reached for one black heel, cramming it onto your foot and doing the same with the other. Maybe after stopping at the seamstress you could pop into the flower shop instead of calling them back. Surely it'd be better to view the arrangements in person?

Standing up straight, you turned to the nearby floor-length mirror, straightening your dress. It had gotten rumpled from sitting down for so long. Behind you, the door opened and your husband appeared, shutting it behind him.

"Coryo," you greeted absentmindedly, raking your fingers through your hair as a makeshift brush.

He stood behind you, setting his hands on your waist, but you made no movement to turn into him or tilt your cheek up for a kiss as usual. "Sweetheart."

"I've got to head out," you said, stepping out of his grasp to snatch your handbag from the floor by your desk chair. "But I might be back before dinner."

"Where to this time?" He sounded a little wary, but you brushed it off. All this time you'd been carefully piecing together your event he'd been quietly supportive, asking you tentatively about what you wanted to be asked about, which was very little. But you could feel him growing worried and you weren't sure why.

"Seamstress. Then to look at the flowers." You brushed it off, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm not sure how long it'll take. And when I get home I have to go over a few more things, maybe call the catering and ask them-"

"Darling." Coriolanus took you by the arms, his blue eyes boring a hole into you. "You need to relax. Stop for a minute."

"I can't," you said hurriedly. "I'm behind. And there's still so much to do." Taking in a deep breath, you squeezed your fist, manicured nails digging into your palm for a moment before you released. "I'm fine."

"I've watched you running around for nearly a month," he countered, still holding you by the arms. "You should take the night off. I feel like I haven't seen you when you aren't asleep in weeks."

"You can see me after the party's over." But that didn't work on him, and he smoothed that same stubborn strand from your eyes and exhaled softly.

"Darling..." he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "You've been doing such a good job with everything but you're going to wear yourself out."

"I want everything to be perfect," you insisted, fussing with your purse strap. "I don't have time to stop-"

"Hey." Coriolanus tilted your chin up, looking you right in the eye. "It's okay. No need to get worked up over something like this." He rubbed your cheek. "Sweetheart. You're going to leave all this in here and come with me."

"No!" The forcefulness of the word surprised both of you. You tried to remedy it. "I'm sorry...I just...I can't. I need to do this."

He must have seen the determination in your eyes. Or maybe those blue eyes could stare straight into your soul, and see the new dreadful feeling that was poking its head from where you'd shoved it so many times. Either way, now Coriolanus was gently pulling you to sit back down, taking your bag and setting it to the side.

You stared at your lap until he knelt and took both your hands, squeezing them lightly. When you looked up at him, his eyes tore it all from your lips.

"If I don't do a good job..." your lower lip began to tremble.

"You will do a good job," he cut in, rubbing your hands with his thumbs. Coriolanus' brow furrowed and he reached up to cup your cheek with one hand. "Is this what all this is about?"

Silence. You nodded, blinking quickly to still the tears in your eyes, an effort that did not work. Coriolanus hummed, stroking your cheek.

Then in a quick movement, he stood up, bringing you to your feet too. Before you could ask what he was doing, he crushed you to his chest, holding your head to his shoulder. You let out a little cry at that, arms twining around his waist and hugging him close. All the tension and stress from the past few weeks came pouring out of you in the form of tears, and it was almost relieving.

"I'm going to run you a bath," he murmured, lips finding the top of your head. "And then we're going to relax. You can pick up where you left off some other time. But tonight is for us."

Melting in his hands, all you could do was nod. He rubbed your back soothingly, ironing the places where your dress had bunched up. You sighed, some of the pieces of your mental list tearing away and dissipating into smoke. Breathing in once, his rosy scent engulfed you. It was his flowery soap. Your favorite smell in the world.

He filled your bath in the room adjacent to his own, wanting you to step further away from your work, you gathered. There, soaking in his pale porcelain bathtub, you began to relax for the first time in who knew how long.

Coriolanus sat with you, pulling a chair from the other room and propping it close, obliging when you reached out a hand for him. He kissed your knuckles, letting you grasp his fingers even though yours were wet.

It all began to spill out the more you sat with him. What had been causing all the stress in your mind and body this last week was now in the air, and he listened intently.

"What's your costume, sweetheart?" he asked, smiling as you played with his hand, bubbles frothing at your wrist.

"An angel," you said, looking away shyly with a smile.

Squeezing your hand, Coriolanus stroked your thumb with his own. "Well isn't that perfect?" It made you giggle, maybe the first time you'd laughed in a long time.

Later he had you wrapped up in his arms, cozy under the plush blankets as he ran his fingers through your hair. You breathed easy now, every semblance of tension wrung out of your body with nothing remaining but exhaustion.

"Go to sleep, darling," he whispered, kissing your damp hair.

The covers smelled like him. You shifted your bare legs, smooth against the sheets, and let your eyes fall shut. He whispered that he loved you before you passed out.

And you could feel it surrounding you, breathing air into your lungs and soft under your back.

How much he loved you.

tagging @kellielovesmovies because <3

mixedfandxms <3

[musevinnie]

ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ - ᴠɪɴɴɪᴇ ʜᴀᴄᴋᴇʀ

part 2 of love at first sight / @imalexainurarea

Description : It's been 6 months since you and Vinnie first met, one night you are spending the night at his place rethinking of how everything came to be

Warning: smut. oral f!receiving. praise. riding. unprotected sex

a/n- not to proud of how it came out.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊

It has been 6 months since you and Vinnie first met. In those 6 months you both got super close and he has asked you to be his girlfriend. It still feels unreal to you.

Right now you are over at Vinnie's place. He is streaming in his stream room and you are in his other room laying on his bed. Just thinking about everything that has happened.

Flashback to 6 months ago

You and Giana have returned to the hotel lobby, you both were staying at. You still were blushing and gushing over the photos.

"I've met him. Ive actually met him" you said to Giana.

All she did was chuckled. She was very happy for you.

You posted the photo to your instagram story and tagged him on it. Not thinking he would actually see it. You put your phone away and you and Giana both made your way to the hotel room.

Once in the hotel room Giana went into the bathroom to take a quick shower. You were laying in the bed just looking over the pictures. In that moment you got a notification.

VinnieHacker replied to your story: It was nice meeting you today beautiful

Your heart stopped and you had to do a double take. You tried to calm your excitement. You waited at least 10 minutes to reply back.

After the 10 minutes have passed you send a quick reply.

It was nice meeting you too. Thank you for stopping to take a quick pic

A minute didn't even passed when Vinnie texted back.

I hope I'm not too forward but I would like to see you again. If you can would you like to meet up tomorrow?

You couldn't sleep the whole night. You were excited and nervous at the same time.

Night came and went and right now you are getting ready. You didn't want to go over the top, you didn't want to scare him away.

You were adding a few sprays of perfume when you heard a knock the door. You knew it was Vinnie. Last night while you two were messaging, you both discovered you are staying at the same hotel. He's only one floor above you.

You grabbed your purse and head to the door and opened it and there he was. Looking handsome as ever.

"Hi Vinnie." you smiled

He chuckled and kissed your cheek. "Hi beautiful, ready to go?" he hold out his arm.

You giggled and took it. The whole day was you and Vinnie getting to know each other more. He showed you around Paris.

He did get stopped a few times from fans and you would step aside to not get in the way.

The night was coming to an end. Something you and Vinnie both didn't want. When you and Vinnie were in the elevator of the hotel, you spoke up.

"I would invite you to my room but I'm pretty sure Giana is there"

He took your hand. "We could go up to mine if like"

You blushed and nodded. "O o okay"

Vinnie lead you both to his room.

You walked into the room standing in front of the bed while he closed the door. He came up and wrapped his arms around you.

You turned around to face him and he moved his hands to your face.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked

All you could do was nod. He let out a soft chuckle.

"Baby as much as I'm dying to feel your lips on mine, I wont do so not until I hear you give me verbal consent."

He smiled and looked into your eyes lovingly.

"So I will ask again. May I kiss you baby?"

"Yes Vinnie"

And without a second thought his lips were on yours. As you both kept kissing you both fell back on the bed. Vinnie was on top of you and moved his hand to the buttons of your blouse.

"Can I baby?"

Once again you nodded. He chuckled and kissed your neck.

"What did I say about your words baby?"

You whimpered. "Yes Vinnie, please. Anything you wanna do yes."

Vinnie slowly un did the buttons of your blouse. Vinnie did not want to rush any of this. He didn't want this to be a simple fuck. What Vinnie wanted was to make love. Make love like he never did before.

As Vinnie got to the last button of your blouse he took it off and dropped it to the floor. He lean down kissed your collarbone.

His hands moved to unclasp your bra.

He took it off and kisses your breast. "You're so perfect" he murmured.

"So perfect. My perfect pretty girl" he kissed and praised you.

He went to pull down the waistband of your skirt and panties looking at you for permission.

"Yes Vinnie yes." you moaned

Vinnie kissed your lips once more before pulling them off and throwing them somewhere across the room.

He put your legs over his shoulder and kissed your thighs whispering praises at you. He licked and sucked at your clit.

You pulled him up by his shirt and kissed him, tasting yourself on his tongue.

In between kisses you spoke. "It's not fair Im fully naked while you still are fully clothes"

He chuckled. "Undress me baby"

And within minutes Vinnie's clothes were scattered across the room. You and Vinnie kept kissing and touching each other.

In one swift moved you moved on top of Vinnie and sinked down on him. Vinnie let out a moan and was holding onto your hips. You threw your head back and started to move up and down on him.

"Oh baby you look so perfect on top of me. You're so beautiful, so perfect"

You were so close to coming Vinnie could feel it. "Is my pretty girl close? Come on beautiful. Cum all over my cock. Can you do that for me pretty girl?"

That is all it took for you. You came all over Vinnie's dick. You pulled out and fell onto the bed cuddling closer to Vinnie.

He smiled and kissed the top of your head whispering praises.

You looked up at him. "Wait you didn't get to finish-"

Vinnie shushed and kissed you. "This wasn't about me pretty this was about you that all I care about"

End of flashback

You were taken out of your thoughts by a light slap on your ass. You looked up at Vinnie. He chuckled and got onto the bed with you.

"What are you thinking of princess" He said giving you a kiss on the lips

You giggled, "Just how much I love you baby"

He pulled you on top of him and kissed your neck.

"I love you more princess. Being with you is like a dream."

[jensthwa]

woo's prelude: a clown's remedy to heal a broken heart (JWY x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

A drunk and kind of akward conversation inside of a closet is the start of Wooyoung's journey into healing his broken heart. Only he doesn't really know the name of the Scarlet Witch that helped mend a heart that wasn't supposed to break anymore, even if she starts plaguing his thoughts and dreams after that.

PAIRING: wooyoung x fem!reader.

GENRE: halloween hookup to [redacted] (we'll get to that when we need to).

WORD COUNT: 11.9k

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, drinking and drunk behavior, mature language, insults, woo getting his heart broken by his ex girfriend even though they're friends and they haven't been romantically involved in YEARS my god he's a dummy, reader getting her heart broken too, some self worth issues, frat bros being stupid and getting drinks throw at them for stepping over the line, howl!wooyoung (not for people with weak hearts and strong imaginations), making out, biting, description of female anatomy, sweet dirty talk and praising , fingering, semi-public (they're at a party, does that count?) and protected sex (wrap it up please), switching them positions for him, masturbation, hook up talk and the start of something new that we won't see for now but soon!

NOTES: hi everyone! decided to do a halloween drop on halloween day because spooky season is not over until i get this story out of my system it seems! this story is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE but can be read as a stand alone finally yay! THIS A PRELUDE TO WOO'S STORY, a little taste of what's to come for him and his boo (see what i did there?). this took place BEFORE we can't be friends (san's story) and will be placed accordingly on the masterlist to clear any future confusion. there's mentions of the characters that show up in wcbf so if u want to better understand the dynamics, you can read that but it's def not needed!

this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: october 31st 2024 at midnight!

masterlist

There's a particular way one too many tequilas can make a room spin that Wooyoung absolutely adores. 

When it happens, he lets himself catch the world swirling around him before closing his eyes and praying for a little bit of lucidity to come to him so he can get his drunk ass home safely. 

As he opens his eyes, his face scrunches at what he sees: San, dressed as Gomez Addams, waving a hand in front of him. It takes him a little to remember where he is. 

It's a bit extra confusing with all the costumes and strangers and the music blasting through the speakers but when it finally clicks, he's grateful that he's not completely gone yet. 

“Are you good?” He can faintly hear San ask over the music, San’s girlfriend by his side dressed as Morticia, eyeing him with a quirked brow. 

Why is San with her? He will never, ever get it. 

Kyungmi is not really right for him. It's been a few months already since they made it official and Wooyoung can just tell. He always tells. He's not as oblivious as everyone paints him to be. 

There's one girl who's right for San but, in all honesty, Wooyoung is too tired to fight him on it. 

San always shoots back with a comment about him and Gyuri, his ex girlfriend (now best friend) and it always brings his mood down for some stupid reason. 

He's oblivious to why that happens. By choice, of course, but oblivious nonetheless. 

He prefers it that way. 

Wooyoung would nod, but he knows it's dangerous to do so “Just peachy.” 

“Why don't you—” San starts but he interrupts. 

“Some air and water,” he smiles, taking the water bottle from his friend’s hand “Waaaay ahead of you, babe.” 

Kyungmi rolls her eyes “Quit calling my boyfriend babe, dude.” 

San laughs, Kyungmi does not. 

“Don’t be jealous because he loves me more than you,” sticking his tongue out, he stumbles his way around them both “I'll be back.” 

He focuses on putting one foot in front of the other until he reaches a very big window. It's larger than usual. 

Oh. 

It has a door. A door that slides! 

It's a balcony. Amazing, just what he needs: To be a safety hazard and a possible traumatic experience for everyone at the party. 

He should probably turn back around before he's accidentally leaping over the edge but then he sees it. 

He sees her.

Corpse bride. Her blue makeup being wiped off by somebody's tongue in a secluded corner of the backyard of this stupid frat house the friend group ended up for the night. 

Gyuri is kissing someone. 

His chest tightens, his mouth drops slightly and his heart thumps hard enough for him to feel it on his throat. 

Why is she doing that? 

She's wearing matching costumes with him. She carefully picked them out, she ordered everything a month and a half ago and now she's kissing some… Some… Attempt at a Superman costume. 

Which is pretty fucking hilarious because how do you fuck up a Superman costume? 

But Wooyoung is not laughing. He's hurting, he's fucking pissed and, at the same time, he can't pull his eyes away from her. From them. 

Is feeling this pathetic something that would fit Víctor?

Vector? 

Whatever his name is? 

He's never seen the Corpse Bride, so he doesn't remember the name of the dude he's dressed up as. He just knows he wants to wipe the pale complexion Gyuri painted on him off. 

Off. Off. Off. Out. He needs to leave. 

But he ends up going back inside and downing another shot before he can really think about it, giggling to San and pretending nothing happened because who the fuck is he to Gyuri to get upset over it? 

Her ex, sure. But that happened a long time ago, so it doesn't count anymore. 

So it doesn't really matter. Nothing really matters when he finds Yeosang (dressed as the Phantom of the Opera) and drags him to the dance floor for what it feels like forever.

And then, one thing leads to the other and he's sitting on the floor, in a circle of people he doesn't even know, playing spin the bottle. 

Or is it seven minutes in heaven? A vampire and a fairy kissed in front of him half a second ago, but Zuko and the creepy doll from that one netflix show got up and into a closet like… six minutes ago. 

He didn't really pay attention to the rules. 

Oh, well, he's about to find out anyway! 

Fingers grasping the soju bottle in the middle of the circle, he carefully inspects the faces of everyone sitting there, expectantly looking at him. 

His vision is a little blurry but he wants to pick whoever strokes his fancy the most to try and get rid of the funny feeling he gets when he sees Gyuri walk right in front of him and head for the drink table. 

He decides quickly that, as long as it makes him forget the image of that dude's tongue down the mouth of the love of his life, he's good. 

So he spins the bottle. It spins and it spins and it spins and everyone leans forward in anticipation until it stops in front of someone. 

There's someone on his left that audibly gasps and Wooyoung looks at them before his eyes focus on the person he has to… Kiss? Get in a closet with? 

What does he need to do? 

“You can skip her if you like,” some dude with red paint dripping down his forehead and cargo shorts tells him. He's not even sitting down in the circle but lying on the couch closest to it “She's in a bad mood.” 

That’s when the Scarlet Witch that the bottle landed on rolls her eyes and gets up. 

Wooyoung thinks he's about to lose his turn and wait for the next round or until the bottle lands on him when she offers him her gloved up hand. 

He gets up. He's a little bit more sober now, alert as he plants his feet on the carpet again just to not make a fool of himself, throwing a glance at Gyuri just to find out she's not actually looking at him at all.

The pang on his chest comes back. 

“Don't throw a drink on him just for trying to kiss you too, sweetheart, that's what the game is all about,” the same dude from before tells her as they both pass by the couch and head for the space Zuko and the doll who, he assumes, just got done with their seven minutes was occupying “Don’t say I didn't warn ya, Wooyoung!” 

Who is this obnoxious motherfucker and why does he know his name? 

It takes two and a half hazy steps until the darkness of the small space engulfs him and Scarlet Witch. 

It's one of those long closets with narrow walls that leave absolutely no space to move around when you actually need to put something away, but it's a perfect nook to make out. 

He would know, he's been in this situation many times. 

He lets go of the stranger's hand, only because she turns away from him and then she huffs once the door closes. Wooyoung hears a thump against the wood of it, so he assumes she hit it with her fist or her boot. 

“Fucking asshole.” She mutters under her breath but he hears it. 

It dawns on him that the reason he sat down to potentially kiss strangers that night was to be seen. 

Wooyoung wanted people to see him so they knew he was completely fine and, as soon as Gyuri walked into the room, his motivation was for her to see him doing completely fine. 

Cool. He's cool. He's one of the actual cool guys at the university, he's been told so before. 

He also wanted her to feel a little bit jealous but now, eyes closed for a few seconds to try and regain composure after whatever just happened, he realizes that she probably wouldn't even care.

So this whole thing is useless anyway. Only now he gets to meet (kiss?) someone dressed as one of his favorite characters of the decade. 

There, as his eyes adjust to the minimum light that's filtering under the door, he realizes his mistake: he said nothing to defend her. 

In his defense, his drunk brain processes the information a little too late. And, in her defense, Scarlet Witch seemed like she didn't really care what the asshole said in the first place. 

Now he notices that's not true. 

It's hard to make out her figure but he hears another soft thump and when he turns his head to the right angle, he's able to make out that she just leaned against the door. 

He opens his mouth to apologize, he thinks, but she beats him to it. 

“We don't have to kiss or… fuck or whatever people do with their seven minutes.”

“Wow,” he laughs, his back finding a wall and almost knocking something placed on a tiny shelf next to his arm “I promise I wasn't expecting you to—” 

“Yeah, yeah, save it,” she lets out a breath. “If you want to tell them that we kissed, that's fine by me. I know how your frat bros behave when you don't do what you're supposed to.”

“They're not my frat bros. In fact, they are not even my bros,” he frowns, and slides against the wall because his legs are threatening to give in. He's suddenly very, very exhausted “I don't know them.” 

“Isn’t your name Wooyoung?” 

“Y-yes?” 

“Then you know them,” she shoots back, matter-of-factly “And I'm not interested in kissing any of your kind tonight.” 

“My kind?” 

“Men,” she clarifies and Wooyoung can feel her smile in her next words “Although frat bros are a different kind of species altogether.” 

“I'm not a frat bro!” 

It takes a second and his honest frustration but she laughs “Sure.” 

In the dark, with his ego bruised and his heart crushed, Wooyoung thinks it's a pretty laugh. 

He thinks it's even prettier when he hears a little ruffling and then her body heat invades his space, kind of. She just sat beside him, thigh against his and perfume reaching his nostrils. It's a mix of something sweet and something citrusy. 

It's really nice.

He gulps before asking “W-what was that about?” and then points to the door like she can see him. 

“He's in one of my classes. He thought he could kiss me and when I said no, because fucking look at the state of him, he tried to kiss me anyway,” she says all chirpy but Wooyoung picks up on the sarcastic tone and let's out a soft ew at the story “I preventively threw my drink on him because I got a little freaked out and now I'm sober and pissed off. I think he's a little upset about me thinking he was about to take advantage of me.” 

He grimaces “You can't never be too sure, though.” 

She hums and then sighs a: “I know.” 

“I don't even know his name but he does sound like a fucking asshole.” 

“Why does he know you?” 

Wooyoung shrugs and he's a little glad it's dark. He's not exactly smiling, his playful nature not coming out at the moment. “I'm a pretty popular guy.” 

“I don't know you.” 

“Well, I don't know you either, so we're even,” he shrugs again and it's kind of hypocritical because, to be fair, he didn't get a good look at her face at all “I just know you s-smell nice.” He murmurs, tripping on his words like a babbling drunk idiot. 

Maybe because that's what he is right now.

“Thanks… I guess.” She sounds weirded out by that but he's not sober enough to care. 

“You're so welcome.” 

There's silence in which Wooyoung does nothing but try to find her in the dark. He eventually does, given the fact that the light from under the door casts a little on her face now that she's sitting down.

He doesn't recognize her, which is odd. Wooyoung knows almost everyone. At least her voice would ring a bell but there's absolutely no frivolous memories with this girl and he kind of likes it that way. 

If she doesn't know him, she doesn't know about Gyuri. That's a plus because there's no reason for her to be walking on eggshells around him like every other student at the university who finds him attractive. 

There's another beat of silence between them both, music blasting outside and making the floor slightly thrum underneath him. 

He's not usually this quiet. When he doesn't feel like crying, he's usually very annoyingly outspoken. Mind glowing in red alert, he practically stumbles his words out to fix that. 

“I like your costume.” 

“You do? People didn't get it.” 

“That's because they care more about Captain America than Wanda Maximoff,” he scoffs. “It’s the Multiverse of Madness one, hm?” 

“Wandavision post-credit scene,” she whispers back and Wooyoung nods, encouraging her to go on even if she can't see him. He thinks she's about to maybe rant about the show or the character or the party or anything that can help him forget, but she does the opposite “I, uhm… Also like your costume.” 

There's a tint of shyness in her voice, like she's not used to being nice. 

“Victor, right?”

“I've never seen the movie.” He makes sure to clarify before she asks him about it. 

“You don't really have to see the movie to know the character, Wooyoung,” he feels when her head hits the wall slightly, on purpose maybe “I don't like him anyway.” 

“Then why did you say you liked my costume?” 

“I lied. It's called trying to keep the conversation going,” her explanation makes no sense to him in that state of inebriation, but he lets it go “I don't exactly know what to talk about when I drag someone into a closet.” 

Wooyoung pauses and then laughs to himself “We were not exactly supposed to talk in the first place. Have you never done this before?” 

“No. I don't usually go to frat parties,” she says after a second where Wooyoung was met with silence, a moment where he wondered if his question was out of line “Coming here tonight was a mistake.” 

He finds himself asking without thinking, again “Then why did you?”  

“I'm so bored.” 

That takes him by surprise. 

“Bored?” 

“Yes, I'm bored. My dorm room mattress has a hole in it because I never go out and… Well, there's a boy I liked that came here tonight, so, I came as well.” 

Liked? 

Wooyoung doesn't really ask her about it. 

Eyebrows practically touching his scalp, Wooyoung thinks for a split second she's talking about him but that's not really possible because they've never met until now, she said it herself. 

“Well did you find him?” 

She takes in a shaky breath and then lets it out. Sadness suddenly fills the constricted space and Wooyoung isn't sure if it's just him or if Scarlet Witch is going through a heartbreak as well. 

“Yeah, I did” she whispers back and doesn't elaborate, so he doesn't ask “There's a bride going around the party. I saw her, she looks really cool, maybe you could—” 

“She's my best friend,” he interrupts because the mention of Gyuri, so directly at that, has his heart racing with anxiety. So long for her not knowing about his ex girlfriend “We, uh… We dated in highschool and we stayed friends, so it's not really happening again.” 

“Oh… Do you want it to happen again?” 

“W-what?” 

“I mean,” she laughs a little awkwardly, like she's nervous “You sounded very sad when you said it, a little angry too.” 

“Did I?” 

He definitely didn't mean to sound like that at all. 

Scarlet Witch hums in agreement and he really thinks about what to answer. The short answer is a simple yes but, if he's being honest, he already knows that they're not good for each other. Not like that, anyway. 

“I don't really know what to tell you.” 

“You don't have to tell me anything,” she says right away and it calms his nerves a bit. “Just know that there's no real helping when you like someone, it doesn't matter if you thought you didn't like them anymore. It just happens. It sucks but it just happens.” 

The unsolicited advice doesn't really help him, if he's being honest. It stirs something inside him that he wants to keep hidden, concealed, so he turns the topic of conversation away from him. 

Away from Gyuri. 

“Speaking from experience?” He asks, half jokingly.

“Yeah, so I can confidently say that it fucking sucks.” 

She turns to him with a smile (he's hyper focused on her, there's no way he could've missed that) before laughing and a tiny force lifts up the corners of his lips. That's one pretty laugh.

Maybe, in an universe where was a little bit more sober, he could've actually spent these seven minutes kissing her. 

Kissing her. 

He wants to kiss her. That's going to take his mind off Gyuri, sure. 

His heart beats quicker this time, for a completely different reason. 

He leans in. 

He's going to kiss her. 

She clears her throat “Are you going to the party next saturday?” 

Huh? 

Oh. 

“Yes, I think so,” he's a little breathless and probably blushing because of what he was about to do “Why?” 

After the night he had, he thought he was going to struggle to even bring out this sort of excitement out of himself. When Scarlet Witch raises her gloved hand and brings it to the nape of his neck, he wonders if she actually has magical powers. 

It effectively distracts him, it sobers him up and makes him feel drunker at the same time. Short nails caress the skin where her fingers lay and then she grasps the strands of hair sticking out, not gelled down for the sake of his costume. 

“Is this real?” 

What does she mean? This feeling taking over his body? The heat that spreads all around? He's not sure if it is, if that's what she's asking. 

Hia mouth feels like cotton when he asks “Is what real?” 

She laughs softly again “The hair, the length.” 

Oh. 

“Yes, it is.” 

Maybe he should've taken his time in answering because, as soon as he does, her touch leaves him. 

“You should go as Howl,” she murmurs and he melts a little “It'll suit you better than a Tim Burton character, I think.” 

He laughs, it's short lived and through the cloud he feels he's on right now “You think?” 

“Yeah,” he can't see her, but he knows she's nodding “Even if you claim that you're not a frat bro. You know, the whole seducing ladies and stuff.” 

Wooyoung laughs “Howl did not seduce any ladies, it was all a rumor!” 

“He did, in the book.” 

“Oh, I don't read.” 

“See?” she clicks her tongue and then her shoulder touches his, teasingly “Total frat bro.” 

Wooyoung thinks about it again. 

Kissing her. Now out of pure want instead of selfish motivations. 

She said she didn't want to, earlier, if he recalls correctly and that's okay. 

He still wants to though, so… 

The question is on the tip of his tongue, he even thinks he makes out the start of it before it's cut off by the sound of the door opening. 

Closing his eyes at the sudden intrusion of light, it takes a few seconds for them to adjust to it and, when they do, he finally sees her face. 

He should've kissed her. 

The costume she's wearing it's cool, sure, and she's even wearing a wig that looks very expensive so he confirms the fact that she likes to dress up sometimes but that's not really what amazes him. 

Maybe it's because he sort of already formed a judgment of her character but she's beautiful and he really, really, really, should've kissed her. 

“Time's up, you're hogging the closet. Oh, and someone is looking for you,” the girl dressed up as Zuko points in his direction and then, because neither of them makes an effort to stand up, she nods and steps aside “I'll give y'all a minute.” 

Scarlet Witch laughs and Wooyoung wishes he could share the sentiment. At this point, he thought he would be done with a makeout session and in desperate need for another drink to keep the night going. 

Now, he wants nothing but take her hand in his and find a quiet spot where he can keep getting to know her. Maybe get her number. 

And he swears he's going to ask, but the universe is not in his favor. When she turns to him, he loses all ability to speak and when she leans in to peck his cheek his breath hitches and he feels like a teenager getting a crush for the first time. 

“In case you need to tell anyone I kissed you,” she whispers in secrecy, leaning back a bit “So you don't have to lie. I hate liars.” 

He gulps “Noted.” 

She doesn't even give him the opportunity to escort her out of tiny space: she gets up, bolts for the door and when Wooyoung's brain catches on to the gigantic problem of his own creation, as he gets out of the closet and looks around for her, she's already out of his sight. 

“Are you good?” 

It's the second time tonight San has asked that. It's not annoying by any means but when it comes with the concerned faces of Yeosang, Kyungmi and Gyuri he has to think his response through.

But the Scarlet Witch's words echo in his mind. 

I don't like liars. 

“No, I'm not,” he says, a little out of breath “I didn't get her name.” 

This time, the entire crew joins him, Gyuri, Kyungmi and Yeosang to go to the party. 

He wishes his other best friend came along as well, but she's really not that fond of parties in general. 

Which sucks because she would look good in a costume and maybe that would prompt San to act on his feelings and break up with Kyungmi in the process. 

She was a pain in his ass tonight. Didn't really help his nerves at all. 

Yes, he's nervous about possibly seeing Scarlet Witch again. 

Yes, he thought about her all week and tried his best to find her on social media but couldn't. 

Yes, he's aware tonight's theme for the party is a mix of a masquerade and a normal costume party or whatever the sorority organizing it said in their invite. 

And yes, he's dressed up as Howl Pendragon, wearing a black and white mask that he borrowed from one of the girls in the group. They decorated it with little gold and pink stars and it looks cute on him but that's not the point! 

Masks complicate his quest for the night. 

He hopes that she's here tonight. He also hopes that the costume alone is enough for her to recognize him: There's a lot of people here tonight. 

Even waiting in line to pay the cover fee for the party felt stuffy. 

He turns to Gyuri and she's laughing at something her date for the night is telling her. That's right, for the first time in many, many years, Wooyoung is not her date. 

Superman is. He's dressed in the same costume he saw him in last weekend, he thinks he even sees as smudge of Gyuri’s corpse bride body paint on it. 

She's Wonder Woman for the night. So original. 

Wooyoung feels bad as soon as the bitter thoughts go through his head. He didn't even know they exchanged numbers, let alone kept chatting to coordinate their costumes for tonight's party. 

He found out when she told her that the Raven and Beast Boy costumes would have to wait until next year. 

And he, actually, was relieved that he didn't have to paint his face green for God knows how many hours just to keep losing his date in the crowd and finding her kissing someone else. 

Ugh. 

Bitter. He's as bitter and jealous as someone who has to see the love of his life not give a damn about them or their feelings can be.

But that's okay, he has other plans for the night anyway. 

As soon as they all get through security (there's security at a house party, what the hell), they all scatter to do what they do best at parties. 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa head for the drink table, Yeosang and Jongho head for a corner of the main room, San, Kyungmi, Gyuri and Superman go straight to the backyard and Mingi, his girlfriend and Yunho walk with him to the dancefloor. 

He dances with his friends, he pretends he's paying attention to their banter as his eyes scan the crowd looking for someone familiar behind a mask. 

He thinks he remembers her face very well, it stayed on his mind for a whole week but, even after dreaming about their conversation, Wooyoung is having a hard time in finding her. 

She didn't even tell him what she was going to dress up as or if she was even going to show up. 

Or did she? 

His memories are all blended together. He's going to make sure to be sober tonight, just for the sake of remembering every little detail if he does end up finding her. 

But the hours go by and he still can't find her. 

He's losing hope, he's beginning to believe she didn't even show up to the event which, hey, sucks but that means that he can finally get her out of her head. 

Sort of. 

There's a Scarlet Witch staring at him. But there's this alluring nature to his Scarlet Witch that can't be replicated, or so he thinks. 

He's about to convince himself he drunk dreamed the entire thing but then he sees him. 

The obnoxious motherfucker. Her classmate, mister can't-take-no-for-an-answer. 

In all honesty, the first thought that crosses his mind is to punch him in the face. He's still dressed up all frat bro-ish and his mask is a paper mask, completely diy-ed and with a dick drawn on the right side. 

And then he abandons the thought because, although an asshole, he can lead go finding his Scarlet Witch. 

Only issue is: Mister asshole is walking away with a girl on his arm and heading straight to a… room? bathroom? 

Stopping his movements, mid a Troye Sivan song and cutting Yunho off in whatever he's telling him, he let's out a loud “Fuck!” 

Yunho stops, Mingi and his girlfriend turn slowly to them with wide eyes and concerned expressions 

“What did you do to him?” Mingi asks Yunho and his best friend laughs nervously. 

“I didn't do anything! Did I do something?” he turns to Wooyoung “I didn't, did I?” 

“No, no. Sorry, I… I gotta go.” 

“Go where, Serena Van der Woodsen?” 

Wooyoung doesn't get the reference Mingi’s girlfriend makes but he laughs like he does “I'll be right back!” 

He's never been so determined before, moving through the crowd like his life depends on it and crashing into Batman and his Joker on the way to stop the guy who's potentially changing the course of his night. 

“Hey!” He yells behind him but the music is somehow louder on this side of the house and five people turn their heads, but not the guy pushing a Silent Hill nurse into the bathroom door to kiss her before opening it. 

Damn it. 

He runs faster and faster and he thinks he's going to miss his chance when the tip of his boot catches the door before it fully closes on his face. 

Breathing hard, his lips turn up in smirk when he catches the way the guy's face scrunches in confusion before opening the door again and looking at him.

Wooyoung takes it a step further and gets into the bathroom with them, closing the door behind him and lifting up his mask.

“What the fuck, Wooyoung?” 

“Hey, so sorry for interrupting your fifth makeout sesh for the night but I need to ask you something. Hi.” He says to the nurse and she smiles a little before turning to the Frat Bro and raising her eyebrow inquisitively. 

“And it couldn't wait?!” 

“No,” he says right away, smiling sardonically and getting straight to the point afterwards. “So, remember the Scarlet Witch that I ended up going to the closet with last week?” 

“Who?” 

Wooyoung is going to kill him.

“The girl who threw a drink on you last week for trying to kiss her even if she said no the first time you tried,” he reminds him, “Is she here?” 

“Y/N?” the name comes out in a whisper and Wooyoung sucks in a sharp breath. 

Y/N. 

It fits her. 

“Your classmate, yes.”

“Uhm, yeah, I think she's here,” he looks a little embarrassed at the recalling of the events of last week and Wooyoung wants to smile because of it, but he just looks at him with an insistent look so he can catch that he needs more than that to find her. To find you “Look, bro, I don't know where she is right now. I think she's dressed as a… Clown? A jester? Some weird, indie costume, uhm… She has a pointy black birthday hat? I don't know.” 

He's slurring his words but that's not enough for Wooyoung to feel bad for him. He, however, does not want to speak with him anymore. 

“Alright, thank you for that, I'll… Leave you to it,” he opens the door again and frat idiot scoffs, so he turns and looks directly at the Silent Hill Nurse “Please make him wear a condom.” And he can tell she's a little turned off with the whole conversation. 

So, as he closes the bathroom door and scans the crowd one more hopeful time, he counts that as a second victory. A little revenge on your name, even. 

He wanders the house, the hallways and rooms and little hideaway spots but he finds no sign of you in them so he heads for the backyard and looks up to the second floor. 

The first room is presumably empty, lights turned off and no activity in it the few seconds he observes it. 

The second room has an ambiance light turned on and he sees what looks like a Mad Hatter run across the window and then he hears something crashing, so he hopes that's not where you are. 

The third room has a balcony. It's dark, there's not one light lit in the entire room but there's neon lights in the backyard and streetlights and the moon casting perfectly on it, so he's able to see it perfectly from where he stands. 

And there, draped in some sort of vintage looking clown costume, wearing striped tights and a black and white pointy hat, mask in your hand and your forearms supporting your weight, you stare past him. 

You look sad, but it could also be the illusion the makeup you put on gives. 

He doesn't know you enough to know what your sad expression looks like and it bothers him a little. 

You also don't notice him at all, which is odd, because you're staring directly over his shoulder. You only blink fast and focus on his face once someone calls out: 

“Woo!” That's Gyuri's voice. Raising your head, you wave to him and smile a little. He smiles back. 

He has to literally force himself to peel his eyes from you and look behind him, at his best friend “Are you okay? Come hang out with us!” 

She looks so happy. A little drunk, but happy. San is also right beside her and he shoots him a knowing smirk that he ignores because he has to leave and speak to you. 

“I'm a little busy, Yuri. I'll be down in just a sec,” that's a lie but she nods happily and so he turns to you, your smile a little bigger now “Don't move.” He warns cheekily in a whisper and you seem to get it, because you smile wide, raise your arms defensively and open your, once again, gloved hands in defeat. 

He practically sprints to the second floor after that. 

You hope Wooyoung didn't notice. 

Staring daggers at the girl he told you last time is his best friend? Yeah, that could turn into a fight really fast if he reproaches it. 

You don't remember her name but you do remember her kissing the guy you've liked since forever. She's been doing that all night tonight, too. 

It pisses you off for all the wrong reasons. Sure, she's not exactly at fault, but the human mind is horrid when it comes to mental self flagellation and you, unfortunately, are an expert at that. 

All kinds of things went through your head. The main one, a question: Why do you feel so possessive over something that clearly isn't yours? 

His heart. 

His heart it's not yours, it never was, it never will be.

It's time you come to the realization that that's okay even if it hurts you. The obsession you have over it, over what happened with the two of you it's starting to get pathetic and it makes you feel lonelier than usual.

You really hope Wooyoung didn't notice. 

As you walk to the door and unlock the room you claimed for the night (because you want to leave, but the cover was expensive and there's no way you're letting it go to waste) you let yourself detach from the emotions you've been feeling all night. 

Wooyoung doesn't need to know what's going on in your head. You have a good memory of him, you even filtered a little last weekend and you want to keep that going. 

He doesn't need to know, he doesn't need to stay in your life for too long either.

It makes you giggle when he opens the door and scans the moonlit room of this sorority house like he doesn't really believe you were there in the first place. He smiles wide when his eyes land on you, back against the wall closest to the door. 

“Hey.” You say, biting down a smile.

His chest is heaving, like he ran all the way up here and it does nothing but send nervous tingles down your spine.

He smiles beautifully, entering the room and closing the door behind him “Hi.” 

Peeling your back from the wall, you start walking around the room because that keeps your body busy and unable to embarrass you. 

“Thought I missed you completely tonight, Y/N.” 

Frowning, you give him a glance over your shoulder “You know my name.” You say, rather than ask. 

“You didn't want me to?” 

Shaking your head, there's a tiny smile that curves your lips when you turn to him. He's walking around as well, slowly, carefully, like you're about to disappear if he moves too fast. 

“I don't really enjoy mysteries that much.” 

He smiles as well “You didn't tell me your name last time.” 

“You didn't ask me,” shrugging, you take a few steps his way and scan his costume without any discretion “You see?” 

“Hm?” 

“How good you look as Howl?” tilting your head slightly, you don't miss the way his cheeks darken slightly and that makes the remains of your shyness disappear from your body. You tell yourself that you, in this room, there must be no space for it. You point at his cape “Was it hard to get this?” 

“Overnight shipping,” he whispers, taking a step in your direction “You look very cute.” 

“You think?” 

“Yeah, I really like the, uhm…” he gestures to your costume “Vintage vibe.” 

You don't have to be a genius to notice he doesn't really know what you are. “I'm a pierrot clown.” 

He scoffs “I knew that.” 

“Sure you did, buddy.” 

There's a pause and then you both laugh but it dies down quickly and there's this tension between you both you don't really know why it's there.

You two didn't exactly connect that much last time. At least, you don't think you did. He was kind of drunk and you weren't really thinking straight either. 

“Y/N…” Your name sounds good out of his lips. 

“Yes?” 

“Why did you disappear last time?” 

That makes you laugh again. You didn't exactly plan on it, you were going to wait for him outside the closet but then you saw them kissing goodbye and your heart couldn't really stand it, so you bolted. 

You walk towards one of the two beds, sitting down on it carefully, to not disturb it too much. He follows you with his eyes, his head turning slightly in order to do so.

“You mean when I left the party? I didn't disappear on you,” that's not really a lie, you convince yourself. You kind of bid your goodbye to him that night “Didn’t think you wanted me to stay, either. Did they give you too much shit?” 

“For what?” 

“I clearly didn't kiss you that night. I think it was obvious, so… Your frat bros didn't give you shit for it?” 

Closing his eyes, the smile he gives you in return for the inside joke you two have going on makes your heart flutter “Stop insisting on that, will you?” 

“You can't really fight the truth, Wooyoung.” 

“Hm,” he walks over to you again, sitting on the bed next with his thigh touching yours. Innecesarlly so, because there's plenty of space, but you enjoy the warmth it spreads around your body so you don't say anything “You did tell me you didn't like liars.” 

“Oh, you remember that?” 

“I remember everything,” he nods, “I wasn't that drunk.” 

You give him a look “Weren't you?” 

He laughs again and you follow, pushing him slightly with your shoulder like you did back in the closet as well.

You don't really know what to say anymore, so you clear your throat slightly. 

“Are you enjoying the party?” 

“Are you?”  

“What do you mean?” 

“You seemed kind of sad when I saw you, there,” he points at the balcony and that makes you sigh. He noticed, kind of. That's disappointing and impressive at the same time. “I thought it was the makeup but it doesn't really seem like it.” 

“I’m not sad,” you admit, “I'm hurt.” 

“Isn't that the same thing?” 

“Not really, no,” shaking your head, you stare out of the big panel windows into the night sky. He doesn't need to know entirely, but you can tell him something about it “Remember the guy I told you about last time?” 

“The guy you went to the party for?” 

You nod “Well, he's here tonight too. With a date this time.” 

“Oh,” when you turn, catch him licking his lips before continuing and your eyes are fixed on the motion for a second too long “And that hurts you, duh, obviously.” 

You think it's adorable he's also a little nervous but you only smile and don't give him shit for it like you would do to anyone else “When you're obsessed with the idea of someone specifically seeing you a certain way, yes, it hurts,” you shrug “I'll get over it though.” 

“I feel that,” he says and you can imagine. You sensed it in his feelings last time, you can't actually believe the coincidence and irony of it all “Did you and this guy…?” 

“We went to highschool together. He was the only person who I thought saw me for who I was, whoever that is,” there's a bitterness in the laugh you let out you don't enjoy “We kissed a few times, he told me pretty things and I feel. Totally forgot about me when he had a summer glow up before we started our first semester, though.”

“Well, he's an asshole.” 

“He's not, not really,” and you desperately need to change the topic to him, so you bump your shoulder against him one more time “Did you come with your Sophie?” you ask, pretending to not know about Wonder Woman and the fact that she's here with somebody else. 

He catches who you're talking about, though and shakes his head, giving you. tight smile. 

“No, no, uhm… She has a date.” 

You hum “Are you hurt too?” 

“I'm bitter,” he whispers back, right away “Don't know if that's the same as being hurt, but I'm bitter.”

Silence falls comfortably around the understanding in between you both. You stare at each other, lips slowly curving upwards until you end up laughing yet again at the absurdity of the situations you're both in. 

“Guess we're just… A pair of losers tonight, huh?” 

“And what a pair we make.” 

You agree. There's this electricity running through you, you even dare to say it's running through him too and it makes you slightly regret not kissing him last week. 

If you did, the desire to do so right now would be easier to come to terms with. 

Thankfully, the same thing seems to be going through his mind “I know I was drunk, but I wanted to kiss you so bad.” 

“Are you drunk now?” You ask back in a whisper. He shakes his head. 

“Don't want to ruin your pretty makeup. Besides, you said last time—” 

You lean into his space a bit. 

“That was then,” you interrupt with a tiny smile “And now is now.” 

“That's how time usually works, yes,” he laughs and you join, rolling your eyes at the bad joke. You can see the second he makes the decision, his hand hesitantly finding your cheek and, when you don't recoil at the possible contact, he leaves it there “But are you sure it's okay?” 

You know why he's asking. He doesn't want to take advantage of a vulnerable moment, neither do you.

But you want to kiss him. 

“It’s matte,” you say instead and you hope he understands the real meaning behind your answer “The lipstick, it's matte. And the base It's set with really good powder, too, because I thought…” 

You thought that somebody else was going to kiss you tonight. 

He gets it. He understands why you did it and he scoffs with mild annoyance at it, which makes you smile. 

“Y/N,” he closes the distance between you even more and your breath hitches with anticipation before he whispers: “I'm going to kiss you so good, you'll forget about his lips forever.” 

That's the best thing someone has ever said to you, ever. You shudder at the thought and just stare, eyes dropping when he leans in further and his nose bumps into yours. 

“Do you want that?” 

Sleeping with Wooyoung won’t fix your problems. It sure won’t, not yours, not his but it doesn’t need to. You don’t know what the remedy for a wounded heart is but a distraction from the hurt can’t be all that bad. 

It's still a little bit pathetic how you whimper in response to his question. 

But it gains you the prize of tasting him for the first time, his minty flavor mixing with the remnants of whatever soda you had earlier and you sigh into the encounter. He’s not as delicate as you thought he would be. 

Wooyoung kisses you hard, with want, with need, with something you recognize in yourself and give back: the need for a distraction, for a feeling other than that hurt and bitterness you two mentioned not even three minutes ago. 

You don't know what to do with your hands, where to put them, but he fixes that. He grabs them, puts them on his shoulder, scoots a bit more into you and so your chest touches his and he sighs in contentment at that. 

You feel a little bit nervous, but that’s okay. 

It’s not like you’ve never been touched, like you’ve never done this sort of thing but it is the first time you want it. You want him. 

You’re not numb this time around, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when his other hand joins and keeps you in place, pulling back a second to take in some air before going back in for another toe curling kiss. 

Mind disconnecting from the outside world, you curse the layers of clothing (and there’s a lot) in between you when his hands travel down to your waist, against your body, caressing it and then grasping it in a way you’ve never felt before. 

It’s not rushed and it doesn’t really feel like something that you both want to get out of your system even though it is. You don’t really expect Wooyoung to ask you on a date after hooking up at a sorority party, after all. 

Oh. 

The party, that’s right. Did you lock the door? No, no. He walked in and didn't, you think. 

You can’t really think straight when he’s biting your bottom lip and then licking it as an apology for his misbehaving. It draws a breathy moan out of you and he drinks it, tongue meeting yours for the first time ever as you stand up from the bed, kiss never breaking, his 

body following yours. 

You’re wearing a lace ruffle white collar that goes with your costume. It’s cute, surprisingly not itchy at all and right now it seems to be getting in his way. His fingers look for the velcro clasp and then, when he loosens it enough, he janks it off. 

Somehow, you enjoy the theatrics and you giggle as his mouth abandons yours.

“Woo…” You manage to say when his lips start to make acquaintance with your neck, over your pulse. Craning your head to the side, he moves to the skin that unveils because of it and it’s hard to think of anything but the way you start to tremble under his touch. 

Grounding yourself by sinking your fingers in his hair, you attempt to speak again but he keeps distracting you. 

“Fuck, say that again.” 

Humming, you return “Woo,” you say again, “the door…”  

He moves to the other side of your neck “What about it?” 

“It’s— Oh,” teeth sink into your skin and you moan out loud, you can practically feel his smirk on your skin after that and your face burns as a consequence. “W-we need to lock it.” 

“Afraid someone will walk in on us?” he finally pulls away enough for you to see his face. His lips are swollen and there’s a flush across his cheeks that sits beautifully there when he smiles, forehead resting against yours a second later “You don’t like that thought?” 

There’s a part of you that doesn’t think it’s proper. It’s bad enough you’re hooking up with a somewhat stranger in a room that isn’t yours, but people finding out? That should terrify you. 

But it doesn’t. He seems to read it on your delayed response and the way your eyes widen with need when he pulls away again to watch your reaction to what he said. 

“You do, don’t you?” and then you’re moving, backwards, backwards, backwards until your back hits the door and there’s this passion glistening in his eye that excites you and sends spikes down your spine and into your core “You want people to know I’m kissing you dumb, hm? You want them to see what I’m doing to you?” 

He pauses and you feel like it’s on purpose, you feel like he takes in you heaving chest and the way your eyes follow the veins down his arms when he presses his hand behind you, pushing into your space a bit more and you should feel overwhelmed like you normally do with everyone else, but you don’t. 

You want him to get even closer.

“You want them to see what you do to me?” 

His whisper shakes you, awakens something in you that you desperately want to explore. It makes you feel shy and brave at the same time and the contradiction makes you bite down a smile. 

There’s no need for you to see what you’re doing to him, you can feel it when the hand that wanders to his waist pulls him closer, forward, until his hips meet yours and his leg finds a home between yours. Grunting, he raises a brow and gives you a knowing grin, but you enjoy surprising people. 

Your black gloves contrast against his skin and the white of his shirt when you caress the arm planted next to you and he follows the motion, letting out a breath “What if I don’t?” you ask, low, like it’s a secret you don’t want anyone else to find out even if you’re alone in this room “What if I want to keep you all to myself?” Watching his expression carefully, you try to measure if you’re crossing the invisible hookup line with your words but he closes his eyes and there’s no way for you to tell, so you correct your possible mistake in a whisper “For the night. You don’t want me to be only yours tonight?” 

Something twitches against your leg and the brief tension melts from your shoulder. Damn, you’re not that mouthy during these sort of scenarios so you almost, almost fucked up, huh? 

It doesn’t really matter when his free hand brushes his knuckles against your stomach, over your clothes and the ridiculously big buttons of your costume and then leaves you to twist the lock on the door “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, by the way.” 

“I want you.” The words get out before you think it through and you don’t mind it. You value honesty, you love when your body acts before your mind has the time to make you feel ashamed of your own feelings and wants. 

It pays off because his expression morphs in pure want and his tone is a whimper when he begs you, forehead meeting yours again “Again.” 

“I want you, Woo…” You whisper against his lips and then his mouth is on yours hungrier than ever before. The wood hurts against your back but Wooyoung’s hands pull you against him to move you away from it. 

This time, your hands know exactly what to do, because you know exactly what you want. They tug at his cape, trying to find the clasp of it with desperate trembles because your heart is beating faster and faster and you’re impatient, body too impertinent and rebelling against your wishes of taking this slow and savoring every little touch.

Cape on the floor, you feel his hand trying to figure out your costume. It makes you laugh and you’re glad he returns it, looking down at it and frowning at all the fabric he finds. With your hands against his chest, you push him into the mattress and he lands gracefully on it, supporting himself with his arms “I’ll do it.”

“Baby, this is a great costume and you look so fucking cute on it but why is there so much layering?” 

The nickname is new and he doesn’t seem to catch that it slipped out of his mouth so you don’t comment on it but it sure deepens the color on your cheeks and you laugh shyly, tilting your head to side in a playful manner. 

“I told you I like dressing up.” 

“And it shows! Mine’s a little simple,” without the cape, he just looks like a dude with a loose white shirt and black trousers. A handsome dude, but just a dude nevertheless “But I wanted you to find me, so…” 

“What was the first option?” 

“Beast Boy.” 

There’s something that crosses his expression that goes away the second he sees you slowly working the buttons and the skin underneath reveal after each one. His eyes fix on it and you’re sure you look ridiculous in the makeup and the get up and all but he’s looking at you with so much need you feel sexy wearing it. 

The shirt comes off. You’re wearing a cropped top and a bra underneath and you hook your thumbs under it to make him believe you’re taking it off, but you don’t. 

“You’re killing me.” He groans out and you laugh at him, making a show of bringing your hands down your torso and into your hips. You move to take off the striped bloomers that are matching with the tights you plan on taking off next. 

Your underwear doesn’t exactly match but you weren’t really planning on any of this with anyone. You weren’t planning on going this far but you don’t really care when it’s all, eventually, it’s just going to be off, so it doesn’t really matter. 

“Want to take these off yourself or you’re going to make me do all the work?” 

Smiling, he sits straight on the bed, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his mouth he nips the satin fabric of your glove, it loosening around your index when he pulls. He must see the way it affects you immediately, the way you breath catches, because the corner of his lips lifts up before he does the same to the thumb, the middle finger, the ring and the pinky and then he pulls the glove completely off. 

You feel like you short circuit for a second, even more so when he keeps the hand close to him and starts kissing the pad of your fingers so softly it doesn’t match the hunger in his eyes at all. 

And you’re killing him? 

It happens in a flash but the other glove is off and then your tights, your top and his shirt are off and on the floor and you’re sitting on his lap, tongue parting his lips and mouth bruising against his and you feel like you’re in a small pocket in time no one can really disturb. No one can burst this bubble, this cloud you land on when he turns you around and the expensive material of the sheets touches your bare back. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” 

When did he take off your bra? It doesn’t matter, his lips are making their way down your throat and exploring your chest, gaining puffs of air and moans from you when he flicks your nipples with his tongue, expert and careful, measuring your reaction and doing it again when your back arches off the bed instead of verbally asking for more. 

He kisses down, down until his teeth are catching your underwear. Looking up to you, he searches for an answer in your eyes and you both come to an unspoken agreement. Even if you’re both taking your time in exploring each other, there’s no actual time for him to eat you out, for you to get on your knees and taste him as well. 

You immediately wonder if there’s going to be another opportunity to do all of that. Either way, there’s not enough time to wonder. You help him get out of his trousers, his boxer briefs and you stare at him with an eyebrow up and an open and watering mouth. 

He laughs at your reaction, like he was expecting it. 

He stops laughing when you reach for him. Breathing hard when your thumb teases his tip, gathering precum, he shakes his head and you immediately stop “Baby, we… Not tonight.” 

Then when? You want to ask. 

You just nod before bringing the thumb to your mouth, tasting him and humming in content. Wooyoung leans in and puts his tongue on yours a second later.

He smiles, teeth sinking on your bottom lip before diving in for another kiss “Dirty girl.” He teases you and you shrug. 

“You look so good,” You say against him, pecking his lips, “Couldn’t help myself,” fingers grasping the hairs at the nape of his neck, like you did the night you met, you stop him from kissing you again just to whisper “You taste so good too.”   

His eyes almost roll at that, hips stuttering against you and almost brushing where they need to. “Fuck, don’t say shit like that to me, Y/N.” 

“Sorry.” You say but it’s clear in your smile that you’re not sorry at all and maybe you shouldn’t have because when it comes to taking your last piece of clothing off, he takes his time. 

Fingernails raise goosebumps as they softly go through your skin and he lets out a ragged breath “So fucking beautiful.” 

You feel beautiful. That’s good, because earlier tonight, before you catched him staring up at you on the balcony, you felt undesirable. You felt little, small, incomparable in the worst way possible because… Why not you? 

His words reassure you. Even if you know that’s something you need to do yourself (built enough confidence to not let the choices of a man who doesn’t give a damn about you define your self worth), it helps you tend that wound that reopened. 

He touches you and you feel worth it again. You believe it when your panties fall to the ground and your legs part for him and he looks at you in delight, thumb finding your clit and circling it right away “So fucking wet, fuck.” 

Your hips go up when he finds the right pacing, the right pressure to it and you really shouldn't moan this loud but you don’t care when he lets out a moan of his own at the way your face scrunches in pleasure “I want you.” You let out, breathy and pliant under his touch. 

“You got me,” he’s sweating but you don’t really care, you love the way his pretty nose touches yours when he leans in, index searching and then entering you. “Fuck, I could slip right in, hm? Is that what you want?” 

A moan slips out when he finds your sweet spot and strokes it carefully, he takes it as a reply and, honestly, it is all you can let out at the moment. You squeeze the second finger as it enters you, so it gives away how much you like the thought of that. 

“You do,” he says, teasingly and smiles against your lips as he pecks it “Dirty girl,” He repeats and you shake your head again, hips bucking up when the heel of his hand press against your clit and it sends a new wave of heat across your entire body “Impatient girl. I wish you were in my room now, fuck.” 

You wish that too.

“Woo…” 

“I had to—” 

“I know but there’s people—” Passing the door, you can sense it. In this midst of anything, you can sense it. 

“Who cares about them—”

There’s a phone vibrating somewhere in the room and it’s definitely not yours. He ignores it, fingers picking up their pace. 

“I need you,” you whisper, propping yourself up to kiss his mouth “Please, please fuck me.”

“I want you to come first.” He communicates his crude intention so cutely you might actually miss him when this is all over. 

“And I want to come with you.” 

That stops him and you can literally feel him get harder where he rests against your inner thigh.

“Condom?” You ask in a whisper. 

“Condom, right, fuck—” Both moving to reach his pants on the floor, you giggle and his lips find your cheek for a second as your torsos hang from the bed and you can safely say you never had more fun during sex before this. 

It’s lighthearted even if you’re both practically strangers and then it grows hot, sexy, passionate again when he finds the condom, breaks the package open and then rolls it on with practiced moves. He kisses you, laying back down against the pillows and aligning himself with your entrance. 

“Wait, let me just…” 

“What?” 

You turn around, laying flat on your chest and arching your back just a little so that you can open up your legs for him to enter. You look at him over your shoulder and his surprised expression makes you giggle “You never tried this one?” you ask and at his silence, you nod “Look how easy it is for me to—” Reaching down your stomach and reaching your clit with your fingers for him to see, you circle it a few times and close your eyes at the sensation. 

He kisses the small of your back “Holy fuck, Y//N.” 

“I told you that I’m coming with you, I’m helping.” 

He leans into you, his tip pressing against your clit deliciously “You’re so fucking hot, I almost came.” 

“That’s the point, Woo.” You say through pants, his hands kneading your ass and spreading you open for him to see. It’s a little nasty and you wonder what you both could do with a little more time and less people waiting for you outside. For him, at least. 

When he enters you, the moan that leaves you echoes his and you probably needed just a little bit more prep for the size of him but since you’re so turned on it barely matters when he’s completely seated inside of you and this position just makes it feel ten times better “You feel so good, baby, fuck.” 

“Yeah?” His chest is touching your back now and his lips are leaving open mouth kisses on your shoulder. He moves his hips experimentally and you moan into the sheets, sweat running down your neck and your chest into them but you don’t have time to feel bad for the owner of the bed at all “Was that okay?”

“You can go harder.” 

“Yeah? Fuck.” 

He complies right away and it feels so good you let yourself close your eyes and fully enjoy it, consequences be damned. 

People outside the room hearing you moan? Who cares when your fingers the weight of Wooyoung against you feels so right? 

When his thrusts help you grind your clit on your fingers just right, especially when he increases the speed of them and the wave of pleasure that hits you squeezes him around you so good his moan bounces off the walls and outside of the balcony where someone downstairs giggles and whistles. 

“Oh, God,” he says, a little ashamed but never slowing down and you turn your head, searching for his lips “We should’ve closed that door too.” 

You decide to tease him to wipe that emotion from him and just focus on you “Thought you wanted to give people a show.” 

Opening your eyes, you are able to watch when his eyes harden slightly at the thought, pace faltering as he lets out a tiny whimper. 

“And I thought you wanted me for yourself tonight,” he resumes his relentless pace, thrusting in and out of you with ease now and your cheek meets the sheets again so the bed can muffle your sounds “Maybe next time.” 

Next time. 

You don't really have time to dwell on what that means because you’re so worked up it won’t take much for you to come. You let Wooyoung know and he nods, his forehead against your shoulder again “Kiss me.” He whispers and you crane your neck to do so, to swallow his moans down and keep them with you forever. 

You swallow all of them down when his hips stutter and he comes and you know he keeps yours when you let yourself come right alone with him. He fucks you through both of your orgasms and slows down gradually until he grows sensitive and hisses at any tiny movement and your arms go kind of numb underneath you. 

There’s a sense of urgency your mind picks up immediately after but you ignore it. You have nowhere to go and they charged you twenty dollars to get into this stupid party so they can wait for you two to return to it. 

But there’s a phone vibrating somewhere. And even if you both hear it, Wooyoung turns you around and leans in to give you a kiss so sweet you almost want to keep it with you as well. 

When he pulls away, you wipe the sweat on his forehead with your hands and brush the hair out his face so delicately he closes his eyes and seems to enjoy your touch. 

Now what the hell should you say at a moment like this? Where he doesn’t seem in any rush to leave you and you don’t really want him to leave either. 

Do you tell him he did good? Do you tell him you enjoyed it, that he made you feel safe? That’s the first time in ages you enjoy a quick fuck this much? 

That—

“Please give me your number.” 

Oh, he’s actually adorable. He takes your stunned expression and silence the wrong way, though, and he sits on his knees, pulling out of you and working on getting his condom off while he speaks. 

“I can give you at least ten reasons you should give me your number. Number one, I enjoyed this a lot and I can do better if you give me time, number two—”

“Woo, you literally just fucked me with clown makeup on. I think we’re past you giving me reasons to sleep with you,” you sit up as well, taking his face in your hands again and leaning in to kiss his cheek soundly “Give me your phone.” 

He gets off the bed and looks around the room for the trash can. It’s a tiny one, sitting on top of a desk and you really, really start to feel bad for the girls who are going to have to sleep off their drunken night in this room. You’re surprised that no one knocked on the door but, on party eastern time, it’s still kind of early. 

Two thirty am reads the clock on Wooyoung’s phone when he hands it to you, unblocked. There’s messages flowing in and you try your best to not read them as you enter your number and name into his contacts but you do notice they’re from a group chat. 

You wonder if his friend group is big, if he’s close to all of them, what kind of friend he is. You’re impatient, you want to get to know him all of the sudden and you know it’s dangerous for expectations to grow after a hookup but, as you hand him his phone back, you can’t help but let out a “Woo, do you just want to fuck me or do you want to be my friend too? Something more?” 

He’s reading the messages on the group chat with a frown when your questions register in his brain and he looks up, a curious expression and a tiny smile “You’re very direct, aren’t you?” 

“I hate wondering and mysteries,” you shrug, “I don’t want to expect the wrong thing.”

“Fair,” he nods. “I’m more of a… Just wait and see what happens kind of guy, but if you want an honest answer I just don’t really know. I want to see you again, though.” 

“I want to see you again, too,” You murmur back and he smiles, leaning in a fraction to try and kiss you again but then there’s a thud against the door and a soft ouch coming from behind it that interrupts you “We should really get out of here.” 

It takes a millisecond for him to misinterpret what you meant, smirk growing on his lips when you shake your head disapprovingly and blushing while you pick your panties from the ground and get up to slip them on. 

“Not what I meant!” 

“I mean,” he starts to dress himself as well, “I wouldn’t mind.” 

“No,” you say but you don’t sound so sure of it yourself and it makes him smile even wider, so you roll your eyes. “Where are my…”

“Here.” He hands you the tights and you thank him, almost falling while trying to put them on fast the next second. He laughs at you “Just sit down, babe.” 

“Don’t laugh!” 

“I’m literally not!” 

You tease each other as you get in costume again. This time the fabric bothers you a little but only because you’re sticky and sweaty even if it’s the last day of october. 

Fully clothed, you walk to the door and you suddenly feel very shy and nervous at what can await you behind it. Wooyoung seems to see it on your face, so he steps in your space and kisses your lips sweetly, holding your waist respectfully like he didn’t just make you come less than ten minutes ago. 

“I’m so glad I met you,” he whispers against you and you melt even if you don’t want to. He doesn’t specify why and you don’t ask, but he does smile when you peck his lips one last time before stepping away “Do you want to step out together or do you want to go first, should I go first? We can meet downstairs,” he clarifies before you can think the worst and you giggle “We can leave together too, if you want.” 

You know he means the party. 

But his phone vibrates again, insistently shaking in his pocket and you rest your head against the door softly “I feel like you have people that need you right now.” 

He takes the phone out of his pocket. The screen reads “yuri”, with a series of heart emojis and a middle finger emoji at the end and his expressions turn worrisome immediately. 

“Shit, no, you’re right, um…” 

Stepping away from the door, you grab the knob and open it for him “Do your thing, Woo.” 

You think you know exactly who's calling him. 

Like you already knew, sleeping with Wooyoung didn't fix yours problems at all: 

It hurts that she's been chosen over you again, but you keep the soft smile on your lips either way. 

“I'll text you. I'll call you, I—” he leans into you again, stealing a hard, parting kiss that you probably are going to think about until he keeps his promise “Hey, everything alright?” You faintly hear when he picks up the call. 

When he leaves the room and closes the door behind him, you sag against the wood of it and let yourself meet the cold floor to try and plan out how you're getting out of there and how long it would take you to walk to your dorm room at this time. 

But then your phone digs in your hand, screen lighting up the dark room and your face. 

+82-8-918-2910: my friend got sick bc she drank too much. wish i could take you to your dorm. text me when you get there, yeah? x 

It makes you smile. Despite it all, it makes you smile really hard. 

+82-8-918-2910: it's wooyoung btw ;)  +82-8-918-2910: send me pic of how you save meeeee  +82-8-918-2910: okay my friend is puking in the pool and her date it's fucking useless i have to go text me back pls!! xx 

When you catch yourself re-reading the texts on your home screen and grinning, this time like a complete fucking idiot, you know you'll have to start thinking of another recipe to mend yet another broken heart. 

That's fine. At least you're not thinking about Superman anymore. 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, don't be afraid to go to my inbox and leave your thoughts there, i love reading them!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[worksby-d]

Lying in your arms, so safe and warm

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Summary: After spending Father’s Day with Andy’s son and your newborn daughter, you'd like to give him one last gift once you're alone, but maybe you're not ready yet. (Longer version of this ask I answered in June.)

Warnings: Talking about SEX

Word count: ~800 

a/n: We’re celebrating Father’s Day in October and we're gonna like it damnit!! This is ~technically~ part of this series, but can be read alone.

It’s your first night alone in nearly three months. 

Jacob so graciously offered to take Evren for the night after the long day the four of you had and neither you or Andy could object to that. 

It's late now. Andy thinks you're in the bathroom getting ready for bed, your usual routine. 

He’s talking out loud as he strips his own clothes off in search for something comfier. 

“It's so quiet here without Evie,” he chuckles, shaking his head to himself. “I don't think I remembered what this was like… I know it's only been a few months, but—”

When the bathroom door opens, he looks over his shoulder and short circuits stops mid-sentence as he watches you walk into the room. 

“Wow…”

Evidently, he forgot how to pick his jaw up off the floor. 

His eyes follow from your soft smile, down your body, admiring the silk and lace cami and shorts set that you haven't worn since before you were pregnant. 

He used to joke it's one of his favorites because it's easy to slip off of you. 

His eyes come back up to meet yours as you step toward him. 

“You talk too much for me to remember the quiet, by the way,” you quip, having heard his every thought albeit the door separating the two of you. 

You lean in to kiss him and he laughs against your lips, pulling you closer. 

“What are you doin’?” He mumbles, bringing a hand up to caress the side of your face. “Hm?” 

Pulling away enough to look at him, he doesn't miss the teasing glint in your eyes. 

“Didn't think I'd let Father’s Day end without giving you one more gift, did you?” 

You don't have to ask him twice—or at all—to get in bed with you. 

It's like he's a step ahead of you, blindly moving closer to the bed to pull you down with him. 

“Andy,” you laugh, landing on top of him. 

Your fingers brush through his hair as his lips meet yours again. The kisses are deeper now, slower and more breath-taking — ones you feel like you haven't had time for in ages. 

He's sure as hell not going to complain if making out is all you do tonight, but he has an inkling you had a plan for more.

However, he knows your body and he can tell you're not completely relaxed. He’s well aware it's been a while and rushing you is the last thing he wants to do, but he can feel you're holding back.

To see if it's a matter of needing him to take the pressure off a little bit and take the lead, he moves the hand he has resting on your thigh up higher, over your hip to push the soft fabric of your top up. 

Your heart races even faster than it already is when you feel the warm palm of his hand against your side, his thumb stroking against the skin of your stomach. 

The hand you have on his cheek slips down to his wrist to keep him from undressing you any further. 

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. 

“It’s okay if you're not ready,” he whispers. 

You let out a sad-sounding laugh. “That sounds familiar.”

He said those exact words to you the night after your first date. You froze in bed then too.

He can't help but smile. “I meant it then just like I mean it now.” 

“I know,” you sigh, dropping your face to hide against his neck. 

He smooths your top back down to cover you, moving on to rubbing your back instead.

“I'm not an animal, honey,” he jokes. “I can go a few months without sex.”

Frustrated with yourself, you let out a deep breath. 

“I'm sorry,” you say quietly. “I've never been self-conscious with you… I don't get it. I just wanna feel like myself again.” 

“You will,” he assures. “Don't apologize.” 

Through the silence that settles between the two of you, he finally feels you relax against him. He can't help continuing his mission to make you feel better. 

“I've changed too, you know. I'm no spring chicken…” 

“Please,” you scoff. “You're just as sexy as the day I met you. It's not fair.”  

“I could say the same about you,” he promises, hugging you tighter. 

You sniffle and he feels a twinge in his heart knowing you don't quite believe him right now. 

“Sorry,” you exhale, not letting yourself cry. “It's your day and you're the one comforting me.” 

“That's what I'm here for,” he whispers. “Always.” 

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby

[leiascully]

X-Files OctoberFicFest Day 30: Light Refreshments

"Hello?"

"Mulder, it's Assistant Director Skinner. Any updates?"

"No, sir." Mulder shifted a little in his seat. "Agent Scully and I are, uh, continuing the stakeout. We've been observing the building for the past few hours. It appears to be unoccupied."

"Interesting," Skinner said. "We have intel about that building specifically."

"They could be in the basement, sir," Mulder suggested. He lifted two fingers to his throat and loosened his tie slightly. "We might not see the lights from here."

"That's a good point," Skinner mused. "Maybe I should send additional agents to check in with you and Scully."

"Ah," Mulder said, loosening his tie a little more. "I think we've got it covered for now."

"You don't want backup?"

"No, no. We're... fine. We have eyes on the only known exit with basement access," Mulder said. He unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, and then undid one more button. "According to the plans. Mm. I think it's... fine."

"Let me know if the situation changes," Skinner said, sounding dubious. "There're only a couple more hours on your shift."

"Yes," Mulder said. "True. We've got this. Sir."

"Does Agent Scully have anything to add?" Skinner asked.

"Scully," Mulder said. "Um. No. She, ah... she went to the restroom. At the gas station. So. Yeah."

"Are you all right, Agent Mulder?"

"Yes... sir," Mulder said. "I'm, um, I'm a little... thirsty. Scully... mmm. Scully's going to bring me, ummmm, a soda."

"That's kind of her."

"Yeah. Anyway. No... action here. Sir. All quiet."

"I'll check in again," Skinner said, and hung up.

"Fuck," Mulder said. He dropped his phone down the side of the seat, his hand fisting in Scully's hair. His head tipped back against the headrest as he panted. "Scully." He shuddered, a whole body gesture that made the car rock slightly.

Scully raised her head, wiping her mouth delicately with the back of her wrist. Mulder tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his trousers with shaking hands. At least there wasn't any clean up to do—Scully had taken care of that.

"I'm not sure it counts as road head if you weren't driving," she said.

"It counts for something," he said. "I had to talk to Skinner while you were down there. Goddamn, Scully, do I want to know where you learned to do that?"

"Catholic school." She had a Cheshire cat smirk. "I'm amazed you held off, and frankly a little disappointed in myself."

"I was this close." He held up his thumb and index finger, just a fraction of an inch apart, peering through the gap. "I thought about how much I hate Spender and that kept me from moaning in Skinner's ear."

"Maybe he would have enjoyed it." She raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe so," Mulder said. "Tell you what, you can talk to him the next time he calls, and I'll be the one getting a soda." He waggled his eyebrows. "I've got a thirst only you can slake, Scully."

"I look forward to the challenge of not moaning in Skinner's ear while I'm riding your face in the back seat," she said primly, and Mulder did moan at that.

"You don't play," he said admiringly.

"I don't know about that," Scully said, gazing steadily at him. "I think I play for keeps."

"Then I'm glad you're winning," Mulder told her.

Her smile was bright in the dim of the streetlight. "Me too."

[eliotlime]

End of October Update

There's got to be a less clunky way for me to title these things but maybe I'll figure it out after a few posts.

Anyway at the top of the order I want to say that uh... the Abacelsus zine is not happening by halloween unforch.. I just started school part-time and it being part-time is still kicking my ass! So tentative release date will be on 11th November unless something else happens....

On the plus side I'm done with the cover so all that's left is the back page and cramming all 24 pages full of drawings 👍

-> As I've said at the end of my previous post I want to make more blog style posts so here's me trying to do that, more under the cut

🔐Abacelsus Zine

I'm still deciding on whether i want to print it A5 or B5 but I'm leaning towards A5, though for the digital release it doesn't really matter lol

As mentioned, I'm done with the main cover so I just need to fill this entire thing with stuff, I said 24 pages but really the total page count is 30. I'm just not counting the cover and the blurb stuff.

I'm half taking a break with this at the risk of burning myself out and half paralysed with starting it. Plus I've kind of been more into Axl & I-no hilariously but I'll always love A.B.A. I think the lack of any real info really lends her well to interpretation which is always fun.

I've never really been one to engage in fandom so I'm probably going to be doing my own thing. That being said if anyone has any suggestions feel free to drop them in my strawpage or ask box :)

🥤 Strawpage & General Socials

The bugs make my pages so decorative, I gotta draw more bugstyle guys.

Speaking of strawpage, I made one of those! It was really fun, I have a short OC info tab with descriptions of some of my main guys. I'd love for you to check it out.

This kind of acts as my ask box for twitter since there's not one there and apparently it's basically my main social media site these days so I'm just mirroring my experience here over there too.

Hilarious timing considering that it's basically collapsing on itself once again, I'll probably still be on that damn site until it implodes but I also have a Bluesky account for those that care about it.

The sky follower bridge extension is really useful for bulk following people from twitter to bsky

I'd love to post there more but there's not a queue function and that's very important to me as someone who is not American and lazy to remember optimal timings.

Did you see? I also have a new pinned for this blog! Wanted to make a new one for a while now, always thought the old one was so freaking long. All the old info is still on my about and faq page though I don't know who actually looks at those.. a relic from years past..

☹ School

Sigh, like I mentioned earlier I'm doing school again! At my big age, but I'm having fun so far! It's part-time but it's still kicking my fucking ass! It's the main reason why I'm a little disoriented this month honestly.

Do you like it? I spent an entire Sunday making my class miro board look niceys and then proceeded to get nauseous from cybersickness afterwards LOL

I'm doing a UI/UX course and I have to say the funnest part about it is making personas, it's like making OCs. Don't particularly like writing though.. but also that's a lie considering the numerous amount of paragraphs in this blog post alone haha

🎁 Merch

I've also gotten confirmation that I'll be boothing again next year in Febuary! So I gotta start locking into making more stickers and general merch. I say this a lot but I do need to look into opening an online store because I just have tonnes of stickers and stuff lying around waiting till the next time I do a convention which is kind of a shame.

Oh, but I will say that if you are from Singapore and would like anything from my previous convention catalogue feel free to shoot me a DM on instagram and I can mail it to you locally, shipping's $2 SGD.

➰Closing Thoughts

All in all, been kind of busy this month with school and various loose threads from September but overall I think I'm doing better! I've also been cooking lately and truthfully that's my biggest achievement this month haha, been also getting really into canned fish. Yummy!

Oh and a last thing is that I've been itching to animate again so I'll end this post with a WIP of a gif I did last night/morning. I almost always never finish my animations but here's hoping this one actually makes it to the colouring stage haha

No prizes to anyone who can guess who these two because of course.

Thank you for reading! I know I can't expect everything to be done in a single month but I just wish I could do everything without getting tired or cybersick! If you'd like to support me, here's my ko-fi page and my itchi.io & gumroad as well.

If you have any questions or just generally want to talk to me, my DMs and askbox is always open! Any professional enquires can be sent towards my email as well: eliotlime@gmail.com

XOXO, Stay weird!

-Eliot :)

[imperatorrrrr]

I’m a newer fan so not sure, but I feel like Jack has done like no media this year. Like we always get Nico post game/post practice but hardly any Jack. Is he doing less than normal? Or does Nico always just do more because he’s captain?

I'd say its probably a mix of both?

Jack Hughes did some media during the pre-season and then I believe his only regular season media has been in Prague with the infamous "shouldn't they be in school" quote about all the kids attending one of the last practices in Prague.

Fun Nico Hischier Fact: Before he even got the captaincy, he would stand up and volunteer for media. There's a quote about it here:

From my standpoint, something has changed in Nico. There has been plenty of veterans surrounding the now 21-year-old since he's been in the NHL, those who handle the tough moments in front of the media on a day-in-day out basis. That's not to say that Nico wasn't available, he was, but much like you see from Andy Greene after a tough loss, Nico is waiting in his locker stall, ready to answer the questions. Greene does this - after any loss - he waits for the media, even when the room is quite bare. It's only been a few games since Taylor Hall was traded, but I've now seen Nico step up into that role that Greene, Palmieri and Hall took on in difficult moments.

so yeah, there is kind of this element of Nico doing media because he feels its his responsibility as Captain and its a part of his role to take on the tough post-loss questions. even Jack agrees, from his 32 Thoughts interview here that its the job of the Captain:

I think [Tocchet] said it, that he did some really uncomfortable things—spoke up—once Bo left he was the guy that would talk in front of the media. Which isn't easy, I watched Nico do the same thing all those years when we were losing. Like, I'm the first guy to take my gear off, like damn that was a bad game. Nico has to sit in stall and take question he doesn't want to take and you know Quinn had to do the same thing last year.

my understanding of how post-practice/post-game media works is that there's a mix of guys volunteering to talk to media, reporters asking for specific guys because of stories they've decided to focus on, and clear cut players/moments that lend themselves to interview moments. for example, you are usually going to get interviews from guys that contributed to the win in whatever way or interviews from guys that had something happen during the game that was significant.

I'd say that although Jack has scored and is on the scoresheet for a lot of games already, he hasn't had a "game making" or "game breaking" game yet and there hasn't really been a storyline worth diving deeper into that would necessitate any media from him. Like Noesy had two goals against the Ducks, so it makes sense he's getting interviewed and Bratter scored the game tying goal that got the team to OT against the Islanders, so it makes sense he was pulled for media.

we haven't really had anything like that for Jack yet, which is not to say he isn't performing because he damn well is, but its more to say that he's just playing solid hockey, so there isn't really a reason to get him to do media. plus, we know Jack doesn't like to speak to the reporters so if there's not reason to, why would he volunteer to do so?

now with the HughesBowl incoming, I'm sure focus will now turn to Jack and Luke as thats where the storyline is and we'll get Jack media.

[darlingsblackbook]

Right Next Door

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary : Your mysterious neighbour helps you out when a date goes wrong, what happens when you try to befriend him?

Warnings : Creepy guy, Simon Riley, Delusion

°•♡○° Masterlist °•♡•°

The air was biting cold as I climbed the steps to my apartment building, my heart pounding as I tried to maintain a polite smile. The date had been a disappointment from the start, but I’d wanted to see it through, thinking maybe I was just nervous.

Yet, every attempt to cut the night short had fallen on deaf ears, and now he was right behind me, insisting on escorting me all the way for my own 'safety'.

I fumbled with my bag, pretending to search for my keys. “Thanks for the evening,” I said, hoping he’d take the hint and turn around.

“Oh, don’t thank me yet.” He laughed, sidling a little too close, his shoulder brushing mine. “The night doesn’t have to end here, you know. Let’s go to yours for a nightcap.”

I forced a laugh, swallowing down the anxiety building up. “I… don’t think that’s a good idea.”

His face shifted, a flicker of annoyance crossing his expression. “Come on,” he murmured, edging closer, his hand reaching to touch my arm. “We had a nice time. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel it too.”

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my voice firm. “I’m just… not interested in taking things further tonight, maybe another day.”

His smile faltered, frustration creeping into his tone. “What’s the problem? You were all smiles back there. Now you're not interested?"

I tried to step back, but he mirrored my movements, closing the space between us as I reached my door and closing in on me. "You know it's not fair to lead a guy on, right?"

My fingers finally found the keys and I gripped it tightly between my fingers, trying to resist the urge to ram it into his eyeball.

He trespassed the line even further as he leaned in, his gross breath burning against my cheek. "Just one kiss,” he muttered, his hand pressing against the doorframe to cage me in.

Panic flared as I shook my head. “Please, I’d rather you didn’t. I just… don’t feel that way.”

His expression darkened, eyes narrowing as he leaned even closer. “Teasing me all night just to leave me hanging, huh? That’s how you get your fun?”

I felt the words stick in my throat, my pulse racing. His voice grew harsher, thick with frustration as he got angrier. “You think you’re too good for me? That it?”

I barely had a second to process his words when a shadow appeared in the hallway, and I felt a wave of relief and fear as I recognized my neighbor—Simon Riley.

The big guy who had moved here a few months ago, aside of the few times we passed each other in the hallways, I rarely saw him. He was always quiet, I've never heard him talk and not a peep of noise was heared through the walls.

Something about his size and the dark clothing he always wore ( and the usual grumpy expression on his face ) had, for some reason, caught my eye. Maybe it had something to do with all the books I read with the typical older grumpy man and the sweet sunshine girl trope.

That trope was unfortunately a guilty pleasure of mine, having always wanted to feel safe, protected and taken care of by someone. Someone in whose presence I could just turn my brain off without a worry and know I'll be fine

Maybe those desires were born from my feelings of loneliness and my hard time in making friends. Maybe, it was because I wanted someone to love and accept me as I am and see me as me and still fully and wholly love me.

Sometimes, when I would just think and daydream of having such man, I couldn't help the flashes of my neighbours face in my mind. I wanted to actually love and be loved so badly instead of just imagining it, so I had decided to go out for the first time in a very long time, unfortunately I just ended up putting myself in this situation.

But, as I saw Simon standing in the doorway of his flat, right next to mine. His presence as imposing as ever, I was immediately swarmed by images of being wrapped up and safe in those tree trunk arms- ( valid )

His gaze was calm, but the tension radiating off him was anything but. He took a step forward, his voice low and laced with quiet authority that made my brain tingly in all the right ways.

“I think you’ve overstayed your welcome,” he said, voice gruff and cold. “Leave.”

My date turned, his confidence faltering for the first time, though he tried to laugh it off. “And who are you, her guard dog?”

Simon’s jaw clenched, and he took another slow step toward him. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll walk away. Now.”

The guy scoffed, glancing at me as if I would defend him, but I could only stare, feeling my pulse in my throat as Simon’s presence loomed, unyielding and almost terrifying in its intensity.

“Fine,” the man muttered, backing away with a huff. “Good luck with that one. She’s just a tease anyway.” He threw a final look over his shoulder, muttering curses under his breath as he disappeared down the stairwell.

I let out a shaky breath, the tension in my body finally loosening. My eyes met Simon’s, and for a moment, I was acutely aware of how close he still stood, the quiet strength and warmth radiating off him.

“Thank you,” I murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Simon’s gaze flicked over me, taking in my tense posture, the unsteady breaths. “Get inside,” he said softly, his tone softer but still firm. He didn’t move, just kept watching, waiting until I stepped back into my flat.

I wanted to say more—to thank him properly, to explain—but my voice failed me. I just nodded, stepping back into my apartment as he remained outside, a silent sentinel. As I closed the door behind me, I felt the echo of his presence linger, leaving me wondering who Simon Riley really was behind the walls he kept so carefully constructed.

°•♡•°

I leaned against my door, heart still racing from the confrontation with my date. What just happened?

I pressed my palms to my cheeks, feeling the heat rising in them, embarrassment crashing over me in waves. I wanted to scream at myself for letting things get so out of hand.

Why hadn’t I been firmer?

My date’s cruel words echoed in my mind. “Teasing me all night…” Had I really been that confusing?

I knew I had always had a hard time speaking to people, but I did not think I had been teasing or anything alike at all. In fact, I was pretty sure I was keeping my distance the whole night.

I sank down to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, wishing I could disappear. It wasn’t the first time I had been made to feel this way, but it hurt more than usual. I hated that I had let him walk me to my door, thinking it would be harmless, but now, all I felt was a sense of violation mixed with anger.

But as I replayed the events of the night, my thoughts drifted to Simon. The way he had stepped in, fierce and unwavering, how his presence had made me feel safer. His intense gaze, the way he commanded attention without even trying, sent a flutter through my chest. Why did he even care?

In the days that followed, I found myself stealing glances at Simon whenever I heard him in the hallway or caught sight of him through the window. He always seemed so focused, moving with purpose and intensity that made my heart race. He was intimidating but also…protective. I couldn’t help but admire the way he carried himself, confident and strong, making it hard to believe he even lived next door to me.

I found myself thinking about him more than I wanted to admit. What was it about him? There was something in the way he furrowed his brow when he was deep in thought, or how his lips curled slightly when he was amused, that made my heart skip a beat.

I’d catch myself daydreaming about what it would be like to get to know him, to see the softer side that lay beneath his tough exterior.

But would he even be interested in someone like me?

One evening, as I sat at my kitchen table, the smell of cookies wafting through the air, I decided I needed to make a move. Maybe a little gesture would help break the ice. I figured I’d bring him a treat and see how he responded. I hesitated, biting my lip as I gathered my courage, reminding myself that it was just cookies, not a marriage proposal.

After baking, I carefully placed the cookies in a small tin and knocked on his door, my heart pounding. I waited, second-guessing myself. What if he thought I was a silly little girl for doing this?

When the door opened, Simon stood there, dressed in his usual casual attire, the warmth of the lights behind him casting shadows across his face. “Yeah?” he asked, his deep voice grounding me despite the chaos in my head.

��Um, I made some cookies,” I stammered, holding out the tin. “I thought you might like some.”

He glanced at the tin, then back to me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, though he accepted it without hesitation. The briefest smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and for a moment, I felt a flutter of hope.

“I just wanted to thank you for helping me the other night,” I added quickly, my cheeks warming under his gaze. “You really saved me.”

He nodded, but the moment felt fleeting, like catching smoke in my hands. “No problem,” he said, his voice steady. “Just doing what I had to.”

And just like that, he closed the door, leaving me standing in the hallway, heart racing, filled with a mixture of elation and disappointment.

Was that all?

I turned to leave, feeling a knot of longing tightening in my chest. I wanted more than just a quick exchange; I wanted to be seen by him.

In the following days, I couldn’t help but keep an eye out for him. Each time I spotted Simon in the hallway, my heart raced, a blend of hope and anxiety filling me. I’d muster the courage to say something, anything, to bridge the gap between us.

“Hey, Simon,” I’d manage, my voice barely above a whisper as I tried to catch his eye. He’d glance my way, a quick nod, but his focus would shift immediately, and I’d feel that familiar pang of rejection in my chest.

Days turned into weeks, and I found myself trying harder to initiate conversations. I would catch him on his way to the gym or returning from work. Each time, I’d greet him, my heart pounding, and every time, he’d respond with a grunt or a nod. I wanted to learn more about him, to break through the walls he had built around himself, but he always seemed to have somewhere to be.

One afternoon, I spotted him in the hallway, leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. My pulse quickened, and I took a deep breath. “Hey, Simon! How was your day?” I asked, attempting to sound casual.

He looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he replied, “Fine.” He didn’t elaborate, and I felt a heaviness settle in my stomach.

“Just…fine?” I pressed, hoping to elicit more. “Did you have a busy week?”

He sighed, shoving his phone into his pocket. “You could say that.”

I bit my lip, trying to think of something else to say, but the silence stretched awkwardly between us. “Well, if you ever want to talk or hang out, you can—”

“I’m not looking for friends,” he cut in, his tone sharper than I expected. “I did what I had to out of duty. Don’t think about it too much.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I could only stare at him, my heart sinking as his gaze shifted, avoiding mine. “It’s nothing personal,” he added, but it felt cold, devoid of the warmth I’d hoped for.

“I understand,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. My hands trembled slightly, and I fought back tears as I watched him step past me, leaving me standing there, shattered.

I felt the weight of his dismissal settle heavily on my shoulders, a reminder of how invisible I really was to him. My heart ached, not just from his words but from the reality that I would never be more than an afterthought to Simon Riley.

As I stepped into my flat, the door closing behind me, I sank down against it, tears slipping down my cheeks. I had wanted to be seen, to have someone recognize my worth, but instead, I was left with the painful truth: Simon didn’t want me around, and that stung more than I could express.

Each encounter with him became a reminder of my own insecurities, and the ache in my chest grew heavier with each passing day. I felt lost in the maze of my feelings for him, unable to reconcile the admiration I felt with the reality of his indifference.

All I wanted was a connection, but somehow, it felt as if I was always reaching for something just out of my grasp, destined to remain alone while he moved on, unbothered by my existence.

[zolass]

Oh!!! Uhhh how about OC x bttm! Reader where reader is a much soft spoken/passive guy and OC is the one who teases him a lot? Bonus points if Reader takes a second to process suggestive jokes & is significantly taller than OC (because I've never read a taller bttm b4 LMAO)

MY MUSE ···─Tease! Rafayel x Taller! bttm Male Reader

Summary: Where you find yourself in the grasps of an famous artist, who simply asked you to be his muse and even paying you for it. But why does it feel like that there's more behind all the teasing from Rafayel. wc: 1.2k

tags: fluff, teasing, taller shy reader (reader is as tall as sylus), nudity, mentions of sex and multiple rounds, (pls tell me if I forgot smt) Note: I'm sorry if you wanted smut with this one, or a different character. Hope it's still enjoyable. But ngl I like the dynamic T_T

You were sitting at the coast, your shoes dug in the sand as you squatted down. The waves barely missed the tip of your shoes, while you simply stared at the mesmerizing display of the ocean. Your fingers were playing with the sand absentmindedly.

So you didn’t hear the approaching footsteps in the sand, until a hand landed on your shoulder. Looking up surprised, you came face to face with the handsome male that you had been working with for a few months, Rafayel. 

“Hey, beautiful.” Rafayel said, it was a common thing he called you by. At first it was a rather big surprise for you, but it made sense as he hired you as his muse. “Hey Raf,” you greeted him back with a small smile on your lips before you stood up. Now it was Rafayel’s time to look slightly up at you. “I made breakfast and coffee– so the sooner we are there, the more time we have!” Rafayel said, while he grabbed your hand and pulled you along the shore towards the place you call your home since the last few months.

Many would question why you lived with the painter, all the while you’re ‘just a muse’ as some would like to call it. You didn’t have to pay for basically anything, freeloading off of the other. Of course at the beginning you wanted to know why he did it, just as confused as others would be, even going as far as not accepting the payment he gave you. But his words at the beginning simply were “creativity doesn’t wait around, so I have to grasp it while it’s simply there.”

Quickly you found yourself in the open kitchen, with a steaming coffee mug in front of you, and the simple breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. As you were enjoying your breakfast in silence, Rafayel’s eyes were trained on your figure. Tall, even taller than him, soft locks framing your face. Your eyes that always held warmth in them, even when others would say he was annoying and too much when he wanted to paint another piece, you simply sat there in your own bubble, going along with his orders without speaking up about it. 

After the first three days, Rafayel started to relax more, speaking more with you, having conversations while on and off ‘work’, soon he also started to make suggestive jokes, he loved to see the halt in movement of whatever you’re doing, taking a few seconds to take in his words before a beautiful reddish color would adorn your cheeks, that you would try to hide.

Maybe that was it, what made him slowly develop this warmth in his chest whenever he thought of you, was seeing you or was simply close to you. 

The clearing of your throat brought Rafayel out of his thoughts, “You alright Raf? You didn’t touch your breakfast yet,” you asked with concern, lacing your voice. Rafayel couldn’t help the flutter in his stomach because of your concern for him, he quickly cleared his throat before he looked at you with a playful smile on his lips. “Just thinking about something– you know.. I don’t mind looking up at you, but I bet you would look better under me.” 

It took a few seconds for the words to register in your brain, and as they did he watched as your eyes widened and face heated up, adorning your cheeks in a slightly reddish shade. You didn’t know what to say, your mouth opening and closing. A chuckle left Rafayel as he watched your reaction, “Okay if you’re done let’s start,” Rafayel started, as he cleaned up the table. 

As he walked to the empty canvas, he couldn’t help but halt in his movement, a sudden idea in his head. “[name] you said– you would do anything as my muse right?” The sudden question surprised you. But you took a few seconds to think of how you should answer, so after a bit you nodded, before adding a yes. 

Rafayel couldn’t help the giddy feeling in his stomach, it might be rather risky but he decided to do it anyway, who knew if he had the chance ever again. “Then– strip,” he said loud enough for both of you to hear. 

You stared at him wide-eyed, “Pardon?” 

“Only your shirt,” Rafayel quickly added, backing out half way. Yet he wanted to see your slightly toned chest, without a shirt blocking most of the sight. You were still kinda shocked, before you gave a short okay. 

Soon you were seated on a small chair with a translucent cloth layered across your naked torso, your eyes sometimes looking at the concentrated face of Rafayel, his words still lingering in your head, before the silence was interrupted by a young woman with dark brown hair walking in. 

Quickly you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to hide your exposed body, which was clearly a failure. Both of you stared at each other with wide eyes, a rose color dusting the woman's cheeks. 

The clearing of a throat was heard, both your heads focused on Rafayel, yet his expression changed. “Didn’t think you would come by so early..” he said, with a slightly annoyed undertone which surprised you and apparently the woman too, “should I come back some other time-” Rafayel quickly spoke a sharp yes, before his eyes landed back on you.

Shortly after you both were back alone, a blush still coating your cheeks, your one arm trying to hide your chest, while you held yourself on the chair with the other. Suddenly Rafayel stood up and walked towards you, before standing still in front of you.

As he leaned down, you didn’t know what to expect but certainly not, that he would push a strand out of your face, with a charming smile on his lips, “You know darling, I love that you’re so tall– more room for me to leave marks,” he said. It didn’t take long for you to blush in embarrassment, biting your lip.

“Then why don’t you show me?” you asked in a whisper, first you thought he didn’t hear what you said, but instead you heard a chuckle and a hand reached out towards you. Looking at the hand and then at Rafayel, you could see the way he looked at you. Still rather playful but there seemed to be more of a seriousness hiding behind the exterior, “Sure, anything for my mesmerizing darling,” he spoke.

And so you found yourself that day in multiple rounds of passionate sex, different positions, all the while Rafayel fucked you into the mattress and filling your hole with one load after another and the sweet words were uttered from Rafayel’s lips. Lovebites and hickeys littering your skin, while you were held tightly in the other’s arm at the end of the day.

You both watching as the sun slowly dropped below the waves, a kiss was placed on your shoulder, “Like I thought, you look so fucking beautiful beneath me,” Rafayel teased. A chuckle leaving him as you hid your face, before he turned serious, “I want to take you out on a date, [name].” 

It surprised you, but there you were already having slept with the man, so a date couldn’t be that awful right? 

Rafayel waited for your answer, and as you said yes, he couldn’t help but feel oh so giddy. He hugged you close to his chest, “Then we go when you can walk without pain, hm?” and all you did was huff, as your ears also turned red, “sure,” were the only things you uttered before both of you watched the sunset, before you slowly drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

[arewecoolio]

it’s all in your mind

A/N: Happy Halloween, I've been busy but thank god for dreams that have semi-coherent plots 🎃🥳 Also this is Angie at her more evil, so enjoy lol

Summary: You barely survive the death of your parents, thankfully you still have Angelique.

After your parents' death, your brother starts to grow more and more suspicious and paranoid–convinced that your family’s tragedy is a product of a curse. He grows distant with you. Angelique grows distant with him. It feels an insurmountable chasm between the people still left and you.

Angelique is still a calming presence in your life, and if she notices how you seek her out more often in the grief-stricken days after she makes no comment on it. Simply takes your silence as it is, and offers bits and pieces of gossip if she feels so inclined. 

She keeps you at arm’s reach—and your brother’s attention shifts to Josette. Whatever affair Angelique and Barnabas had seemed to share a similar fate as your parents. But for a moment there seems a glimmering hope that your brother is happy again, a few dinners you even manage conversations that don’t seem to hang or end so abruptly. Where you manage to keep a smile all the way through the night.

Josette’s death shakes you to your core then.

Your brother becomes isolated, nearly sick; he stops eating with you at every meal—then any meal. Mirrors across the East wing are covered by sheets at his request, he sleeps through the day and leaves you to handle business correspondence. Whatever grief you experience soon turns to a distinct numbness, constantly adrift.

Angelique notices and you find yourself under her attention more and more, she becomes the one to handle anything related to you personally. 

The candle flickers restlessly near you as you continue to write this evening, planning out exports and shipping costs, your mind swims with numbers and obligations. A dull ache worms its way through your temple, as you reread the letter again. Exports to be sent to…A hand settles on your shoulder. “What are you doing awake?”

Caught red-handed, you sigh. “Keeping us afloat.”

Angelique doesn’t find it as amusing tonight, “you need sleep.”

It’s the truth and truly some part of you appreciates the care, when the rest of your mind seems to crave self-destruction tonight. “Do you think there’s a curse on me?” Her hand flexes against your shoulder and you know her answer without looking up.

“You’re not cursed.” She lies, and you finally stand up to face her. She regards you slowly with concern and something you don’t care to place. Too afraid to find pity.

“No?”

She shakes her head slowly, adds in, “Your brother? Without a doubt.” She cracks a slight smile and it can’t improve your mood tonight. She softens, cups your face and tilts it to her. 

Not for the first time you acknowledge Angelique is beautiful, you remember thinking that before Barnabas ever seemed to take notice. Back when you had barely begun to befriend her at the tender age of ten, she was already twelve and she seemed like she knew everything. 

Even now, when twenty-two and twenty-four seem comparable she still seems leagues ahead of you. You would sell off half your family’s fortune to know what goes on in her head. “You should be in bed.” She reminds gently.

“I wanted to stay up to talk with Barnabas about the exports,” you answer, settling your hands over hers. She has yet to let go of your face, and you hope she pulls away soon. Even though a part of you craves the small contact. 

Her expression shifts in the smallest of meters, a twitch of her eyebrow, a heartbeat’s pause. You know he’s still a sore subject to her, even if neither acknowledges it. “He already stepped out.”

“This late at night?” You pull her hands from your face and rush to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of a lantern, or your brother’s silhouette. The estate property is unlit and empty. “I need to go check on him.” You turn back to Angelique and feel all at once foolish to be the only one concerned.

She stands still in the spot you had left her, hands at her sides. “What has you so worried?”

Your mouth opens, then closes, and finally your mind settles. “I don’t think he’s in his right mind, frankly I don’t think I am half the time either.” You check the window again before putting the thought aside. “I fear he’ll leap off Widow’s Hill.”

Your worries are not her own, you can tell. “There’s very little you can do to stop him, if he chooses that fate.”

The truth wounds better than a lie, and you look away. “He’s still my brother.” The only family you have left, even if he’s a shell of himself now. It’s the only real wealth, your father once said. You turn the focus then, ask Angelique. “Would you leave me to jump off Widow’s Hill, if my grief pushed me to?”

“I don’t think you’d be so foolish as to leave me.”

You soften at such an admittance. Angelique was your closest friend but even more, you were hers. “Barnabas may be foolish in his grief, but I would be just as foolish if it wasn’t for you.” She lets you take her hand in yours, there’s a lingering challenge in her eyes that you don’t know the meaning of. You don’t try to. “I shouldn’t ask such questions when you’ve been so attentive, forgive me?”

“It’s already forgotten,” she covers your hand with hers, and smiles. Your wounded heart flutters all the same even when apprehension settles in the pit of your stomach.

—————

Barnabas leaves letters for you in place of seeing you. His letters are thorough instructions when discussing business and when they turn to anything else—they turn nonsensical. Curses and witches and blood…the last part is new. You suspect his grief has turned his humor morbid but still you persist, still Angelique like clockwork has you turn in for the night. Barnabas is  always gone by then, and asleep when you wake. 

Angelique takes to walking with you outside the estate, she keeps your attention most days. Walking with you arm in arm, it’s revolving topics; gossip, or news, asking about business. There’s few times where you catch her attention drifting to your mouth, and it occurs to you that you smile easier now.

You think you’re doing better. 

Smiling comes easier, sleeping comes easier, running your family’s business no longer leaves you sick with unease. 

It’s a shame fate deals another hand.

Angelique is nowhere to be found as evening settles in, you venture down the hallways, and halfway across the estate before you pause at the East wing. Only half the candles are lit, sheets across every mirror in the hall, you walk towards your brother’s room to find it empty. 

His bedsheets are still perfectly folded as if he hasn’t slept in it in months. You leave slowly, hoping if you take enough time you might catch him somehow hiding in the shadows. 

Halfway across the estate, hands as cold as death settle on your shoulders and turn you. Barnabas looks paler and sicker than you’ve ever seen him, and you nearly want to cry. “Y/N.”

“How long have you been sick?” You ask, thoughts already racing on why no one had told you he was sick. Why has no one called a doctor yet?

“I made a mistake,” he says. “Angelique cursed me and killed Josette.”

Your concern doubles, “Barnabas, Angelique has taken care of us.” 

His face twists deadly serious, “She has done nothing but leech off of us.” 

Your heart twists, your brother isn’t well. But he’s all you have. “Why haven’t you told me?” 

“When has she been apart from you? What moment did I have where she wasn’t there?” He glances around the hallway now like she could be there, like she’s the thing of nightmares. “I’ve bought you a ticket for tomorrow’s boat to London.” 

“You won’t come with me?” You plead, voice cracking the slightest. He isn’t well in the slightest, but my god the thought of losing him shakes you to the core. 

He shakes his head, “I have to see this to the end.”

You’ll set him up in a place where doctors can look after him, you’ll visit, he’ll be monitored. He may hate you, but you’re willing to throw every cent away if he lives. His expression shifts, his eyes glance somewhere behind you and then he’s walking past you. Heading towards the front door, and you can’t let him go like this. 

You follow behind by a few steps, several steps before the door—you hear the shouts before the knock ever echoes. Barnabas stops at the door, his hand flexes against the door handle. “Leave us.”

You won’t leave him entirely, he watches as you press the third ring of decorative wood carved into the wall, and the secret pathway opens. He waits for you to pull it closed, but just to spite him, and just to reassure, you leave it cracked by a hairsbreadth. You take a seat and press your face to the crack, unable to look away as he opens the door.

Pitchforks and torches, angry shouts and yet above it all you hear it loud as day. “There’s the monster.” Barnabas stands up straight at Angelique’s voice, and your brother shuts the door behind him.

You wait there in the silence, waiting for his voice. Waiting for him to walk back in no worse for wear, complaining about how much gold he lost in bribes. The seconds tick by until you aren’t sure how long you’ve sat here in a dark pathway. Tear-streaked and alone, the first thought that breaks your stupor is your lantern is upstairs.

You shut the wall closed finally, and take the steps two at a time, finally spilling out from the dark pathway into your own bedroom. The wall swings shut and clicks into place with the force of your momentum. Your lantern sits at your table, and you rush to light it, the flame flickers in your unsteady hands. 

The bedroom door opens and you turn hoping to see Barnabas without a scratch on him. Angelique meets your gaze, then her attention flickers to the lantern in your hands. “No.”

“Tell me where he is.” You plead, a fresh wave of tears threatens to spill, Angelique nears. “Please.” She lifts your lantern and blows out the flame with the same finality she had damned your brother. Your voice shakes, “Angelique.”

She sets the lantern down beside the door and holds your face, “he’s buried now.” She wipes at the tears that spill, “he wasn’t well.”

The back of your throat burns with nausea, “I know that, I would’ve sent him to doctors. I would’ve kept him safe.”

“He killed townspeople.” She answers back, and it’s infuriating to see her so neutral at his murder. She had loved him once, hadn’t she? “He was returning in the early morning, covered in blood for weeks now. At first it must have been animals, but then they started to find bodies in the village. Mutilated beyond recognition.” Your eyes shut, and the whimper escapes anyways. “It was best to handle him, and then tell you afterwards.”

Your eyes open again, and Angelique does look partially remorseful if only for your sake. “Who thought it best to handle me as an afterthought?”

Her thumbs brush along your cheekbones, she leans in fondly. “I knew you would fight me every step of the way, if I told you before this.” You rip her hands away from you.

“Tell me where he’s buried, or I’ll go ask the villagers to bury me in the grave next to his.”

Her eyes light at the threat, even if the punishment would be yours alone she takes it as her own. “You need to sit down.”

“I refuse.” 

A wave of dizziness overtakes you, and Angelique rushes to your side. Her arm is around your waist, and the other still cradles your head like you’re helpless. The first touch of her hand against your temple seems to soothe whatever dizzy spell you have, and all that’s left is Angelique watching you with worry. “Will you make me a monster in your eyes?”

“Will you refuse me again?” You retort.

Her expression pinches in concern, “in the morning we can hold a small memorial for him. At his grave site, but for now you’re in no state to venture outside.” She’s infuriatingly cool against your emotions, unfailingly steady as she holds you close. 

“He’ll be dead by morning, I can get to him still. I can send him off discreetly.” 

She looks at you pityingly, mouth downturned in a small frown. You consider pushing her away again, but you know she won’t let you do it again a second time. “He was buried in an iron coffin, he ran out of air long before they finished burying him.”

You bury your face in her shoulder, your tears soak into her clothes, surely she was lying, surely he could make it another hour or two. He had to, but precious seconds were being wasted convincing Angelique. “I hate you for not telling me he was sick.”

Her arm wraps around your shoulders, and all at once you can’t stand such an intimate embrace with your brother’s murderer. But still you can’t muster up the strength to push away your only surviving friend. “I did what I thought was best, I feared losing you to the same grief that broke him.” You lift your face to stare up at Angelique, her eyes roam your expression searching for something you’re sure doesn’t exist. Affection or forgiveness, it’s hard to tell what she wants. “Can you blame me for wanting to spare you another tragedy?”

“I want to blame you,” you answer quietly, thoughts race. You could tell her you wish you were in that coffin instead, but she’d no doubt react the same when you discussed leaving. You could tell her you wanted to escape this loneliness, but she stood presently the only person to remain by your side. You could call her a monster the way she had called your brother one. But you don’t want to. “I won’t.”

[kgymstlle]

just saying / suna rintarou x fem reader

you should leave him cause it really makes me sick!



"i just washed that." suna says as you cry on his living room pillow. you continue to do so though, and upon pulling back, the pillow had stains of mascara where your eyes had been seconds ago.

"sorry." you apologize, rubbing the fabric with the sleeve of your sweater. "you do realize you're making it worse, right?"

you immediately stop. "i'm sorr—"

"apologize one more time and i'll kick your ass out of my apartment." he cuts you off. sure it was harsh, but suna has always been this way. it was all in good faith though— he cares about you a lot, really, but being all soft and using a gentle tone wasn't exactly something he was good at, even if he tried really hard to. tough love, if you will.

feeling suna's piercing gaze, you bring your eyes to meet his. "what did he do this time?"

"he broke up with me." for the nth time, suna thought.

tears voluntarily rolled down your face yet again, and all you heard in response from the boy was a sigh. he wanted to say i told you so— you're better off without him. and with me instead...? shit. he's still inlove with you.

but he's your best friend. exactly. therefore he knows you better, and he'll treat you better. it makes him sick. he thinks you should leave your no-good-(ex)boyfriend for good, and not get back together within a week of calling it quits like the continuous, year long cycle you're stuck in.

"we fought. we were on a date, but he made me pay...said he forgot his wallet at home. he also arrived pretty late."

a total loser, suna thought. you were already struggling to earn a living and despite being aware of this he's still squeezing every penny you have left. that bastard barely takes you out too— come on, the flag is practically waving crimson. i would never do that to you though, the boy thought as he stared at your distraught state.

you paused for a while. "he texted me an hour before i got here. he says that he still loves me." bullshit. suna thought. he knows that son of a bitch is cheating on you. that man knows how to fabricate his words, lying to you since the very beginning. when you gushed about your ex's big house and how he lives all alone, it was quickly debunked when suna drove by that said house by chance... and saw a woman through the window which he later found out was the jerk's mother. he never told you that though, to save you from the embarrassment.

"you don't need him, y/n."

surprised by his words, you tilt your head. "wow. i know you mean well rinrin, but...wow."

exactly. i mean well. i'll also help you get over it— wait, is this still right? the boy shook his head. keep it together, rintarou.

"just saying." he muttered in response, eyeing your next move. you roll your eyes. "anyway, i think i've come to the realization that i've overreacted quite a bit— he did have a very tiring day... and i was so pushy that it probably irritated him."

for the love of god you need to stop blaming yourself for every inconvenient thing that happens. you stand up and wipe your now dry face with your sleeve to remove the smudged makeup. this is the part where suna sighs, he knows you're going to fall right back into your ex's trap.

you fix your composure and hug suna.

"thanks, rinrin. for always putting up with me and my problems." for you? always. he thought. with a few taps on your phone, you slip it into your pocket and head to the door. he already knows what you're about to do.

"when you change your mind, i'll be waiting." you hear him behind you, still seated in the living room couch. you nod at him and smile. "mhm. thanks rinrin, i owe you one."

when you shut the door, suna puts his hand on his forehead and sighs. "i'll be waiting." he repeats. cause after all, he's better than your ex will ever be.....just saying.

[oatmealdaydreams]

Y'all wanted the lore, so here ya go!

@localcanadiancreature62 tagged as requested

These are both variations of the Timestuck AU, so keep that in mind. Made these two AUs yesterday in the same hour of each other because I have brainrot and there's this really good timestuck fic I've been reading that got my brain rolling (Stan Overboard by itS_JuSt_a_thought on ao3).

Teen Dreams AU

Teen Ford ends up in 2013 with old Stan. Old Ford ends up with teen Stan in the early 1970s. The teen twins are from about a year after the science fair incident; so, teen Stan is a year into being homeless & teen Ford is a year into being in Backupsmore. No one knows how the fuck the Fords swapped places in time, but they need to get them back to their own timelines. This is all about two weeks before their birthday. Old Stan gets to see how teen Ford genuinely missed him back then. Old Ford gets a little glimpse of how teen Stan's situation was for him (this is during Stan's salesman days, think around the time he got banned from New Jersey and is heading to Pennsylvania). Teen Stan learns how much Ford cares about him and is protective of him, and he learns how to let someone else take care of him for a change. Teen Ford learns how much Stan truly cares about him and never meant to actually hurt him, which helps makes his grudge look pretty stupid in the long-run. Might have some 13 yrs old Dipper & Mabel help out in 2013. Would be interesting for teen Ford is get to know his future twin niblings & also talk about them to teen Stan when he gets back to his own timeline. PLENTY of moving parts via angst and hurt/comfort and the idea of Stan & Ford's inner-teen getting healed a bit.

Teenage Challenges AU [may change the name later, idk]

This one is the longer thought-out au, so buckle in! 13 yrs old Mabel and Dipper end up back in time with teen Stan Twins. Early 1970s an entire year after the science fair incident & Stan getting kicked out. Dipper ends up with Stan, and Mabel ends up with Ford & college Fiddleford. Fiddleford is about a year older than Ford because I say so. Their dymanics with their future niblings are more like older siblings and younger siblings than uncles and nibling because of being closer in age. Reminder that everyone is still in their teen years. The young Stan twins are between 18-19, and Fiddleford is about 19-20. So, in this context, there's like a 5-6 year age difference between the Stan twins & Mabel and Dipper. ANYWAY: Stan thinks Dipper is some homeless kid and he can't just leave him on the street in the cold, especially not when he kinda reminds him of his brother. Dipper mentions just wanting to get back to his twin sister, and well that's hits Stan's heart because that sounds a bit like himself in regard to loyalty to family. On the other side of things, Mabel has this very broken Time Tape she needs to fix to get back home. She mentions needing to find her twin brother, and with the fact that she reminds Ford of his time's Stan, well he's conflicted with feelings but he does his best to help her anyway. Fiddleford and Mabel get along quite well, especially when Mabel suggests a few ideas for his death bots that he "may never use but keeps the blueprints for because he may snap one day" & Fiddleford thinks her ideas are genius. Ford starts to see a little of himself in Mabel with her optimistic outlook when it comes to discovery and circumstances. She's also pretty good at certain math stuff and Ford admires her intellect. There's so much more with this, but this is so long already.

There, it's a post now. Have fun! And if anyone wants to write something or draw something for these, feel free to do so! All I ask is that you tag me 'cause I wanna see it :D

[fanfictiongirlie]

Twilight: Some Soulmate - Chapter Six

Click here for masterlist

Parings: Paul Lahote x Reader

Description: Y/N a member of the Cullen family is imprinted on by one of the wolves, she is shocked, he is shocked. She is struggling with drinking animal blood over human, and he is disgusted by a vampire for a soulmate… But maybe it could work..?

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None

Words: 1,374

I didn't come back. 

I stayed away from home. 

My family went back to Forks. After Edward nearly killed himself because he thought Bella had killed herself, they all went home. I just couldn't, I felt sick being away from Forks. But Paul made it clear to me, he didn't want me. Why would I stay somewhere, knowing that. 

So I've been exploring, and by exploring I mean, I had a little cottage in England. And I've been reading, I even got a job. As a book keeper, it was actually a nice little life I built in a short amount of time. 

But there was something missing.

Imprinting was a stupid thing. It sucked, knowing there was someone out there who was your perfect half. And they wanted nothing to do with you. Why did my soulmate have to be a werewolf. It didn't even make sense that he was my soulmate, what if I never became a vampire. Then again, Alice said it must of been destiny that I became a vampire. Rosalie says I should be happy it happened when I was still young and not when I was old. 

Paul hadn't tried to message me, or call me. Which hurt, I knew it was hurting him too. I could tell, I could almost feel it. Which Carlisle said was silly. 

They had visited me a few times; my family, before the whole Edward walking into the sun event. Since moving back to Forks I hadn't seen them. 

Esme was begging for me to come back, but I just couldn't. I had a little life here. 

----------

I left my house at 5am, before sunlight, and made my way to my little book shop. Which luckily was located inside a big shopping centre, so no sunlight would hit me throughout the day. I entered the shop, and picked a book at random to start reading. The shop wouldn't be opening until 8am but until then I can read. 

I checked my phone a few times, No new texts from Paul. A few from my family. 

Alice: It's going to be very sunny today, be safe. 

Jasper: Sending calm vibes. 

That one made me laugh. 

We may need you home soon, unfortunately there may be a fight 

That one was from Carlisle. I felt panic, I called him.

"Carlisle what's wrong?" I say, putting my book down. 

"Alice has seen a group of newborns heading our way" He spoke in his quiet soft voice. I had missed it. 

"I can come back and help if you need me Carlisle" I spoke, I didn't really want to come back, it had been ages since I had been there. But if it meant keeping my family safe.

"I'd feel a little bit more confidant if you did, but there's one problem" Carlisle said. 

I waited for him to speak again. 

"The wolves will be helping us, we met with them a few days ago" Carlisle explained. "Edward said he could hear Paul thinking about you, looking for you in our group" 

"Oh, really?" I asked, surprised. 

"Edward says he still hasn't forgiven you, he could hear the anger towards you. But I believe he wants to see you" Carlisle finished. 

I nodded, as if he could see me. 

"When will the new borns be there?" I asked. 

"In one week" Carlisle answered. 

"Okay, I'll leave now, hopefully it shouldn't take long. But I'll see you soon" I say, I put my phone down and frown. I guess I couldn't be opening the shop today. 

I headed outside, luckily the sun hadn't quite left the clouds, but I drove home. Packed all the important bits, and then put a headscarf on. 

And headed towards the airport. 

-----------

The flight was quick, and the drive to Forks was uncomfortable. I didn't want to see him. Or maybe I did. 

I drove quickly, not looking away from the road. I could faintly smell the wolves, and it hurt. 

I pulled up into my house, parked the car and ran quick into the house. But it was empty. Now I was confused. 

I pulled out my phone and dialled Carlisle's number. He answered after one ring. 

"Y/N, are you home?" He asked

"Yes, where are you?" I asked. 

"In the woods, follow my scent, it should be fairly easy to follow" He said, and the call ended. 

Carlisle wasn't wrong, I followed his scent and I saw them soon enough. I also saw the wolves. I knew where Paul was, our eyes met. I could feel the anger. 

I missed him. So much. 

"Y/N" Esme smiled widely, as she came over to me to hug me tightly. 

"I missed you" She whispered into my ear. "I missed you too" 

Carlisle started what ever this was, and then Jasper proceeded to start showing off his fighting skills. 

"Y/N, your turn" He said smirking at me. 

I stepped forward, finally taking my eyes off Paul. 

I watched Jasper, waiting for his first move, he went to punch and I dodged, grabbing his arm and spinning him. He jumped and tried to land on me, but I dodged that by jumping up and wrapping my arms around his chest and pulled him down. 

"That was a good example of what the newborns do" Jasper explained "They will wrap their arms around you and squeeze, do not let them do that"

We all fought a little bit more, except for the wolves, they watched. Carlisle called it to an end as we had been doing this for hours. I stepped forward towards Paul but he growled and ran off. I frowned, I had hoped if he saw me again but with my amber eyes back maybe he would forgive me. Obviously not. 

I joined my family in our walk back to the house. 

"Will you stay after the fight?" Emmett asked me.

"I'm not sure" I answer. 

"You should to see me become a vampire" Bella smirked, I nodded. 

"That's definitely something I wouldn't want to miss, the worlds first clumsy vampire" I joke. Everyone laughed at this. 

I walked closer to Edward so I was next to him. 

"Hey, Ed, was he thinking about me?" I asked. 

Edward nodded

"He only thought of you, when you were fighting Jasper, he kept thinking 'If that vamp actually hurts her Ill kill her'" 

I smiled, it was something. Better than him wanting to kill me.

"It'll be okay Y/N" Bella smiled at me. 

Hopefully it will be okay.