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seokgyuu · 2 months

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What could be worse than a valentine’s day alone? Exactly, a valentine’s day spent with your academic rival, Jeon Wonwoo, stuck in the home eco’s kitchen because you were both sentenced to take over the cookie baking for this season’s day of love.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, smut, heart wrenching and tooth rotting fluff (wonwoo is down bad bad)

warnings: sexual content, smut warnings under cut! wonwoo is a little bit mean? but like not too mean? she’s also kinda mean. but they are in love! promise.

word count: 5k

a/n: hi everyone!! this is part of the cupids collab hosted by the wonderful @wongyuseokie for @svthub! this work is dedicated to the wonderful, the lovely, the hilarious @highvern! i hope you like it, babes!! sending you loads of love this valentine's day and thousands of kisses, mwah! i had loads of fun writing this and am happy to be a part of this collab, hehe. also thank you @ourdawnishotterthanourday for betaing, ily! <3

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move. “Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.” Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him. “Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.” “I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

smut warnings: minimal degradation (usage of the word “slut”), praising, pet names (princess, sweetheart, darling, pretty girl) oral (f. receiving), begging, softdom!wonwoo, unprotected sex (you know the drill - wrap it before you tap it, folks!), creampie (get it… cream…pie? cookies & cre- ok i’m sorry).

There are approximately seven thousand three hundred and twenty eight places you would rather be than here.

Nothing has helped you get out of this unfortunate situation. No pleading, no begging, not even wanting to send Seungkwan in your stead. Professor Yoon had been adamant in his decision to send you and him to this god forsaken home eco kitchen to bake the badge of cookies for the Valentine’s day sale.

“It’s not even a real holiday!” you had whined to Seungkwan, “if it were, we wouldn’t even be at class in the first place!”

All your best friend did was rub your back and tell you it was all gonna be fine, all while writing a text to Vernon on his phone in his other hand. He was used to your antics when it came to Jeon Wonwoo. Everyone was, at this point. Both of you had not made it hard to get used to - just by the amount of times you had decided to fight and dive right into rivalry when there was no reason to. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t even a bad idea to put you two in one room together for several hours with no one else. It could give you time to talk out your differences. Call for a truce. Screw the anger out of each other. Anything that would make Seungkwan’s life easier.

That day comes sooner than you wanted it to, and while your hand lays on the handle of the car door, you feel the uneasiness inside you raise.

“I can’t do this, Seungkwan. One of us is gonna end up dead.”

“Yeah, my money’s on Wonwoo. Please don’t disappoint me.” Seungkwan hums back, hands on the steering wheel and his eyebrows raised. You turn around, your mouth slightly agape before scoffing and opening the door.

“Pick me up at 4?” you ask and your best friend nods, waving at you once the door is closed. He truly hopes neither of you ends up dead (but if push comes to shove, obviously Wonwoo because then Vernon would owe him 5 bucks).

Professor Yoon had told you that all necessities would be at the university and that you wouldn’t have to bring anything except for a good mood, something you didn’t dare to say was impossible in the given situation.

You aren’t stupid (Wonwoo would beg to differ), you are well aware that your professor is trying to end whatever war you and Wonwoo have going on by pairing you up for this. And while you get the sentiment and might even appreciate it a little - you’re more than sure that nothing will ever come out of this - Wonwoo and you despise each other. It has been like this since your first semester and it most definitely wasn’t going to change over something as trivial as baking cookies together.

The home eco’s kitchen is in the basement of the economics building and you are happy to notice you’re the first to arrive. Smiling to yourself, you fish the key to the room out of your bag and unlock the door, walking in and turning on the lights.

The kitchen is spacious and modern, everything is made out of gray steel, with a few dark wood accents on the cupboards. You spot the boxes with ingredients on the island, and place your bag next to it before unpacking the things provided for you and Wonwoo. It becomes your mission to arrange the cookbook with the recipe in the center of the right side of the island, gathering all the needed ingredients around it in the order you would need it. Then, you search the cupboards for a big bowl, wooden spoon and a mixer.

You have gathered almost everything except for the mixer, spotting it in one of the higher cupboards you most definitely can’t reach without some sort of help. Biting down on your lip and gnawing on it, you look around the room, coming up empty. There are chairs in the room next to the kitchen, but you don’t have the key for it. With a sigh, you stretch yourself as much as you possibly can, hand reaching for the kitchen gadget - with no luck. Just when you’re about to climb on top of the counter, you feel something shift behind you, a body suddenly pressed against yours and an arm reaching up to grab the mixer for you without any trouble at all.

Wonwoo. Your body stiffens at his touch and only relaxes once he backs off, putting the mixer down next to the other stuff. Immediately you turn around, your eyes glaring at him.

“Someone decided to show up, after all.” You spit at him and he rolls his eyes.

“I was forced, if you must know.” He says not even looking at you. His eyes are focused on the ingredients on the counter, his lips slowly drawing into a smug smile.

“Control freak much?”

Your head burns and you scoff, walking over to the door and feeling his eyes on you as you move.

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move.

“Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.”

Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him.

“Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.”

“I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

For the most part the two of you are quiet. Mainly because you don’t have anything to say to each other. You split the ingredients evenly (either one of you starting with their own batch since there is a whole lot of cookies to bake) and begin working on opposite ends of the kitchen. You get through the first batch without so much as exchanging looks. You do your thing and he does his. Only, when you get the first batch out, you ask him to hand you the oven mittens, which he does without any fuss. You’re surprised but don’t say it.

It’s when the both of you start to work on your second batches that things… change.

You hate to admit the tension in the room. In fact, you’ve been hating it since the first day you’ve met him. It’s a shame he’s so hot when he’s the absolute bane of your existence. Your friends (mainly Seungkwan, really) tease you about your obvious attraction to the man you call your archnemesis every chance they get, causing you to flip them off, or scoff, or just roll your eyes at how extremely wrong they are. If you could change it, you would! Finding him attractive whilst hating him truly is exhausting.

Slowly, you let yourself turn around in hopes he doesn’t notice. Thankfully, he is entirely focused on sprinkling chocolate chips into the cookies - white chocolate chips. You let out a gasp and your wooden spoon falls onto the top of the counter you’re working on.

“That’s cheating!” You shout, pointing at the package of sweets that he so obviously brought himself. What a jerk!

Not even looking at you, Wonwoo chuckles at your words, placing the chocolate chips next to him and wiping his hands on the apron he had put on earlier. Then, he turns to you, hip leaning against the counter, arms crossed and his eyebrows raised as he smirks like the douchebag you know he is.

“Cheating, yeah?” He repeats, licking his lips, “not sure it counts as cheating when it was clear from the beginning I would make better cookies, sweetheart.”

His condescending way of talking to you has always succeeded in making your blood boil, just like right now. You scoff, shaking your head and cleaning your own hands with a kitchen towel to your left.

“You know, considering these are for the day of love it is quite ironic Professor Yoon paired me with you, the person I hate the most.” You present Wonwoo with a honey dripping smile that couldn’t be more fake. Wonwoo doesn’t waver though. He just continues to smirk, his eyebrows shooting up even more, and before you know it he starts walking towards you, a click of his tongue almost making you flinch.

“See, love and hate are like siblings. While on the surface they couldn’t be more different, in their core they are irritatingly similar,” his voice is deep and his eyes are right there on yours and somehow you feel like he has taken away your ability to breathe. What the hell is he doing?

“You were always fascinating to me, darling. Always so sure of your opinion, never wavering. That first day we met, do you remember? How you were on my ass for the rest of the day because Professor Cha liked my answer better than yours?”

“He did not!” You shoot back, surprised by your own whiny tone. Looking at Wonwoo’s face, the defined jawline and cheekbones, the round specs on top of his nose and the brown soft curls falling into his forehead, you immediately regret speaking up at all. There is something in his eyes now, something you have never seen before - at least not on him. Something inside of him shifted, like a switch that had been flipped, and the way he looks at you makes all of your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“Ah, so I imagined things?” Wonwoo only so much as whispers, his large frame coming even closer, “Are you saying I’m a liar, pretty girl?”

Pretty girl. What the fuck? Your eyes widen and you feel your throat closing up. Absolutely not, you could not freeze right now! He was testing you, seeing how far he could go before you actually fell for whatever he was trying to do. Gathering all your confidence, you bring your hands up to place them on his chest and softly push him away. It gives you extreme satisfaction when you see the surprise on his face.

“And if I am? What are you going to do about it, Wonwoo?” Your smile turns smug and the little vein on Wonwoo’s forehead pops out just slightly. About to retrieve your arms, you are met with his hands around your wrists and his body even closer to yours.

To say he catches you by surprise would be an understatement. Your lower back is pressed against the counter, your hands in his grip and your lungs missing the necessary air to not get dizzy. Why does he smell so good? You catch yourself thinking thoughts you normally would try to suppress at any given time - especially when Wonwoo is right in front of you. This time, though, there is no escaping. Not with him so close, not with him staring right into your soul.

“I have learned one thing over the years we’ve known each other, Y/N,” he breathes, eyes not leaving your face, “you can be a real fucking brat.”

The gasp you want to let out gets stuck in your throat. Instead, something like a choke comes out, something that makes Wonwoo smirk and your legs weak.

“You really think you’re sly. Do you honestly believe I don’t know how attractive you find me? How you need to look away everytime I come in wearing tighter shirts or pants that hang low enough to see the waistband of my underwear? You always try to act like you hate me and, you know what, maybe you do, but what I said earlier isn’t wrong, darling, love and hate are like yin and yang - they can’t exist without the other.”

He has your wrists in a strong grip and his lower body is now pressed against yours, something you never realized you craved. Feeling his growing erection against you, knowing he is turned on by you, by the situation, you feel like your head is about to explode.

“So, what if I tell you that maybe I don’t actually hate you, but I actually find you attractive as well? What if I tell you nine out of ten times I want to shut your annoying mouth up by shoving my cock right down your tight throat? Or how whenever you bend over your desk to tell someone something you, of course, know better than them, I want to take you just like that and make everyone see just how much of a desperate pretty slut you actually are?”

You’re done for. With every word he’s saying, you can feel yourself actually becoming what he says you are. Desperate. The heat between your legs has turned into liquid in your panties, has turned into your heart beating at triple speed.

“Y-You can’t just say that!” You stutter, knowing full well he will just laugh at you. And he does. He laughs and he throws his head back and then he looks at you again, his eyes glinting with want that only gets emphasized by the hard cock pressing against you.

“Oh, sweet, sweet baby. Of course, I can,” he hums, finally letting go of one of your wrists to carefully tug a strand of hair behind your ear, “you’re so beautiful, especially when you’re flustered.”

He must be playing with you. It has to be one of his games. He wants you to give in, wants you to fall for this only to hold it over your head for the rest of your college life. His mixture of dominance and sweetness is about to give you whiplash, especially when he begins to caress your cheek and leans down, his breath hitting your cheek.

“We need to finish those cookies, Wonwoo.” The words are whispered and almost inaudible, but he hears you and he smiles.

“We’re alone in this basement, sweetheart. We’ve got all day to finish those cookies.” His hand wanders down, finding its place on your hip. You shiver slightly, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips and when his nose bumps against yours, something tells you that maybe he is serious.

When he kisses you, you figure that something is correct. What’s supposed to start soft turns into something deep, and hot, and uncontrolled, right off the bat. Kissing Wonwoo feels like the only thing you had ever missed out on in life and now you finally got the chance to take what belongs to you. His lips are soft and his tongue is warm, pressing against yours and entangling it in a dance of fire. Your hands are in his hair and his are on your hips and you’re sitting on top of the counter with all of your ingredients pushed to the side, your wooden spoon falling to the floor when Wonwoo lifts you up.

As if on instinct, your legs wrap around him and you moan against his lips when his hands move up, groping your breasts through your shirt. He licks into your mouth, your fingers digging into his nape, nails dragging along his skin.

If you could see into Wonwoo’s brain you might have gotten scared. Not because he’s thinking actual scary thoughts but because of how many times he has imagined this. You’re always there, somewhere in his brain, your smile, your eyes, your laugh. And when he’s alone and can’t sleep you’re there too, but this time it’s how he thinks you’d sound when he’s inside of you, when he sucks on your neck and squeezes your tits. There hasn’t been a day since he met you that he hadn’t thought about you.

It’s a shame you immediately called him out to be your academic rival on that day because all Wonwoo wanted to do back then was to make you his girlfriend, basically falling in love with you at first sight. As cliché as it sounds, it’s even more cliché considering he just played along with you, acting like he hated you, riling you up during class in ways he would rather switch for moments like this one right now.

Never had he imagined he’d get you alone, especially considering how good you are at avoiding him. But when Professor Yoon had asked him to bake the cookies for the Valentine’s day sale - he couldn’t help but suggest you as his partner. Hours would be spent together in a kitchen, hours you had to spend with him.

He loves how right he was. How right he was about you giving in, about you finding him hot, about you wanting him. He loves the sounds you make when he begins kissing down your neck and when his hand wanders under your shirt and shoves away your bra to touch the breasts he had been dreaming about. He sucks marks onto your neck and feels himself grow harder with every passing second. There is nowhere on this earth he’d rather be than right here, between your legs.

“Been dying to do this, you know?” He mumbles against your neck, licking up to your earlobe and twitching in his pants when he feels you shivering under his touch.

“R-Really?” You whimper back and Wonwoo nods, both hands moving to your cheeks, lips back on yours in a heated, passionate kiss. He thinks that nothing will ever feel as good as kissing you.

“Yeah, baby, wanted to kiss you forever, fuck,” he moans when your fingers move underneath his shirt, when you touch his bare skin and all of him begins to burn.

“Wanted to touch you, taste you.” His words echo in your mind and you open your eyes, a horny daze in them that makes Wonwoo question his sanity. He moves down now, kissing your neck again and shoving your shirt up to kiss your stomach and breasts over your bra, nimble fingers opening the apron you had laced around your hips earlier.

“Can I taste you, pretty girl?” He asks then and you think you nod, at least you want to nod, but your head is clouded and you feel like you’re about to pass out. When he moves to get the apron off of you, focussing on opening your pants next, you figure you did in the end.

Having you half naked in front of him makes Wonwoo feel like he has reached the gates of heaven. Your pants are on the floor and your chest is heaving, eyes glossy as you watch Wonwoo move to the floor, his tall body still reaching the top of the counter when he kneels in front of you. He moves his arms, wrapping them around your thighs and pulling you closer, his nose tapping against your sensitive core the next second. With a gasp, your hands reach for his head of hair, grounding yourself in it as you stare down at the way he eyes your pussy as if he had never seen anything more delicious in his life.

When he moves your panties to the side, his finger softly gliding over your folds, you feel yourself shiver once more. You let out another whimper, biting down on your lip that feels hot and a little bruised after the way Wonwoo had kissed you.

“God, I can’t even tell you how many nights I’ve dreamt of this moment.” He kisses the inside of your thighs, making you moan quietly, fingers coating themselves in your juices, ready to please you.

Watching him is messing with your head in the best way possible. The way he looks at you, so full of endearment and adoration. How he touches you as if you’d break if he touched you too vehemently. He lets his tongue glide over your skin, moving until it reaches your dripping cunt, licking over your lips, tasting you for the first time. The moan he lets out has you digging your nails into his scalp, mouth dropped as you continue to stare down, continue to watch Wonwoo, your archnemesis, begin to devour your pussy like a Michelin star dish.

He starts off slow, licking over your folds, not touching your clit even once. If he died right now, he’d be content. Tasting you, hearing your sounds when you’re aroused, him being the cause of it - it’s almost all of his dreams coming true. His fingers move, one of them circling your entrance, your whines growing louder by the second. You want his fingers inside of you, you need them inside of you. Wiggling your hips against him, Wonwoo chuckles at your antics and finally moves his finger, inch by inch sinking into your needy hole, your eyes squeezing shut as you clench around him.

“So, so eager, princess,” he mumbles against your pussy, another breathy laugh causing you to thrust forward, his finger now completely inside of you. And, fuck, do you feel wonderful. So much better than anything Wonwoo had experienced before, better than anything he could have imagined. Perhaps, he figures, it’s because it’s you.

Next thing you know, Wonwoo’s lips are around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue flicking against it and leaving you to moan his name time and time again. Your hips move against him and he lets you, his cock straining against his pants in desperate need for attention. But not yet, he isn’t done with you. First, you’d have to come undone on his tongue and his fingers, first you had to scream his name as you experienced complete and utter satisfaction. Wonwoo does everything in his power for that to happen. He adds another finger and fucks you open, his long fingers meeting your sweet spot with every thrust as if he had studied your body for hundreds of hours. His tongue does the work of a god, his lips kiss you like you had never known you needed to be kissed, especially down there.

“D-Don’t stop! Oh, fuck, Wonwoo!” You cry out, your head thrown back as you focus on nothing but your pleasure, on how he feels on your pussy, how it all is too much and yet not enough. You think about what’s to come, about how he will fuck you next, will sink into you with his cock, will make you feel like you’re the most precious woman on this planet. Even more than he already does. Your high is nearing, it’s so close you can feel it right there in front of you, that tight knot in your stomach about to break free and give you one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

“Cum for me, baby. Fuck, I want you to cum on my tongue.” Wonwoo’s words are like magic, like a spell that he puts on you. A lewd whine escapes your throat and you do as he wishes, cumming all over his tongue and fingers, your juices drenching his face. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, anticipation filling him when he finally parts from you.

Immediately, you pull down to kiss him when he stands. Tasting yourself on his lips with your hands opening his apron and getting it off his tall frame with his help, you can’t wait to get even closer to him. You slip out of your panties with his lips steadily on yours, a faint sound in your ears when they hit the floor.

“Need you so bad, Wonwoo, please hurry,” you cry out and he laughs, kissing your neck and your cheek, his hands opening his belt, zipper and button, shoving his pants down only for you to gasp at the sheer size of his bulge. He grins, hands back on your face to make sure you’re looking at him.

“Naughty, aren’t you? My perfect, pretty slut,” he kisses your lips again and your eyes roll back, your pussy throbbing in want. And obviously he knows how much you want him - he wants you just the same. As he continues to kiss you, he moves to pull his briefs down, his hard erection springing free, angry tip red and smeared with pre, oh-so ready to sink into your warm embrace. You part from him, eyes now setting on his cock, your mouth watering at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re big,” you say, swallowing down the saliva pooling in your mouth. Wonwoo only grins wider, his big hands finding purchase on your hips as he leans down again.

“Beg a little for it, baby, and you might get it.” You shiver and bite down on your lip, your hands wandering over his still clothed torso and down to his cock, slowly wrapping your hand around it.

“Please, Wonwoo, please fuck me…,�� is your whispered plead, and the man standing in between your legs groans against your neck, sucking yet another mark into your delicate skin before nodding and grabbing his cock out of your hand, lining it up perfectly with your entrance and slowly sinking in.

His forehead is leaned against yours when he bottoms out and his hands caress your head, coming to a stop on your nape.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing the tip of your nose and you smile, giving the tip of his nose a kiss back. Then, he parts from you and the look in his eyes changes from soft to dark. He does his first thrust, catching you off guard, a loud moan escaping you. Your hands grab onto his shoulders as he continues his thrusts, fucking you deep and hard, his eyes focused on your face that contours in absolute bliss. When he said you’re beautiful, he meant it.

He is holding onto your hips again, pulling you as close to him as he can, his hips chasing yours, his cock in the deepest bits of your pussy, your gummy walls squeezing him for his pleasure. There is nothing you can do besides begging him to go faster, begging him to not ever stop and crying his name when he leans down to suck on your hard nipple over your shirt.

“Wonwoo! Fuck!” You clench over and over again, stars dancing in front of your eyes accompanied by beautiful lights that slowly but surely turn into fireworks. With every thrust of his hips, you feel yourself coming closer to the edge again. You want him to fill you, want him to claim you as his, make you feel full of him and only him. Nails are digging into his shoulders, your head falling back against the kitchen cabinet, his groans and the beautiful sound of your name coming out of his mouth chasing you off the cliff and into the warm waters of yet another intense orgasm.

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, oh- Wonwoo!” It’s done, you are done, your climax hitting you hard and making you gush all over his length that is still so deeply buried inside your sensitive cunt. Wonwoo moans, feeling your pussy clench around him, squeeze him, beg him to cum, to decorate you in his shades of white. And he wants to, god, there is nothing he had ever wanted more. His breathing becomes labored and he leans forward, engulfing you in yet another heated kiss, one arm wrapped around you, the other letting its hand rest on your cheek, thumb caressing your chin as his tongue flicks against yours over and over, mixed with his breathless moans.

When you squeeze him the next time, he erupts. He moans your name, hips becoming frantic as he shoots his load into you, spurts of white and hot cum filling your spent pussy, your and his combined releases dripping down your thighs even as he fucks his cum so, so deep into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants against your mouth, continuing to kiss you right after, riding out his orgasm and only stopping when you’re both completely out of breath.

It’s silent for a few moments, the only thing audible your almost synchronized breathing. Your hands are still on his shoulders, his hands are still on your waist and your cheek. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and he softly kisses your sweaty skin, nothing but pure happiness running through him at this point. He softly caresses your face as he leans back again, his eyes searching for yours.

“Y/N,” he then breathes, a small and maybe even shy smile playing on his lips.

“Wonwoo,” you sigh back, pulling him into a hug that he accepts with a laugh, both his arms now fully wrapped around your body. He’s still inside of you and only leaves you when you part from the hug, more of his release now dripping out of your core. He doesn’t ask whether you’re on birth control because for all he cares he would love to have you pregnant with his child. The thought alone makes his head spin.

“Well,” he begins, a smug smile on his face as he leans down to pick up your panties, “that definitely gives ‘cookies and cream’ a different meaning.”

You stare at him, slightly bewildered, for around three seconds before you burst into laughter, grabbing your underwear from him and jumping back onto your shaky feet. “You’re horrible,” you say and shake your head and Wonwoo’s smile grows even wider.

“Maybe. But I promise you, sweetheart, I’ll never ever be horrible to you again.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that, Mr. Know-It-All,” you smile and give his cheek a peck that he reacts to by turning bright red.

It is in that exact moment you realize Wonwoo was never your archnemesis. Nor has he ever been as much of an ass as you had made him out to be. Jeon Wonwoo is nothing but a loser who’s been in love with you since the very first day you met him, and perhaps you had always known. Perhaps you finally let yourself realize right now, the moment after he had cum inside of you and still blushes like a little kid when you kiss his cheek, that the only reason you had chosen him to be your rival was to run away from how much you knew you’d fall for him if you didn’t.

“Come on, let’s do what we actually came here for.”

And for the rest of the day you and Wonwoo bake the cookies for the sale and talk about what your plans are for Valentine’s. To no surprise those plans immediately involve hanging out together. Maybe, you think, to give ‘cookies and cream’ that new meaning over and over again.

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undyinglantern · 2 years

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ily music

#I could talk endlessly tbh. unless I’m asked a question abt it bc then I clam up and suddenly it’s like I’ve never heard q song before LOL #anyways cleric beast theme from bloodborne masterpiece of all time mwah mwah mwah #Uiuuuuuh ok I’ll shut up now that’s enough for today

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euncsace · 4 months

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if the world was ending

jww x f.readerㅤ wc. 0.4k ㅤdrabble + fluff + f2?? ㅤwarnings. not proofread intended lowercase kissing(??) ㅤib. 2521 scene

summary. the kiss that started in one millenium, ending in the next...

31st december 1999

'happy new year in advance, loves mwah!' a drunken mingyu half hugged and half hanged from the figure of wonwoo as seungcheol attempted to losen his grip.

'ok guys, let me get this big baby back into bed', he muttered through gritted teeth.

you stifled a chuckle, 'need a hand?' the former not so casually waved his hand away, 'i'll manage.'

you both watched them leave and the door clicked shut. silence.

the earlier chatter and laughter had died down and all you could hear were wonwoo and your soft breaths and the low buzz of the television.

'd-do you mind if i stay?' you asked nervously rubbing your hands warm.

wonwoo shook his heead before sitting down on the floor and patted the space beside him.

the television screen flickered with moving pictures of the new year celebrations everywhere, the smiling faces and bright decorations greeting your eyes. but that's not what you were focused on.

your eyes slowly found their way to the person beside you.

there was an awkward tension in the air. an unfamiliar awkward tension.

wonwoo was your friend, one of your closest, you hadn't known this silence and it didn't help how he looked ahead, all so concentrated at the screen messing with the butterflies you felt in your chest. his glasses hung low and you had a sudden urge to fix them.

'they say the world would end', you said in a weak attempt to break the silence.

wonwoo chuckled, 'now, will it really?' after a while he spoke up again, 'is there something you would like to do if it ends, before it does?' he turned to face you, a small smile on his face.

his eyes bored into yours and you stared, your lips agape before they flickered to his lips.

yes. there was something you wanted to do if the world was ending.

'and with let's welcome 2000. ten... nine... eight...' the countdown came from the screen.

did he feel it? the buzz of electricity that ran between you both in that one gaze. the silence and stillness of the moment as one millenium came to an end, an unsure start to an unsure future.

'three... two...' upon realizing how close your faces were, you closed your eyes and did the only thing that came to your mind.

one.

your lips softly met his and you didn't dare open your eyes to see wonwoo's reaction, but after a few seconds he kissed you back, a hand reaching up to your cheeks to caress them. the fireworks outside were like some distant background music, much lower than the ones in your stomach.

when you broke the kiss, you shyly met his eyes which were confused to say the least and whispered, 'this. this is what i would have done.

an. um hi everybodyyy yall remember me...? ALSO OMG FIRST SVT WORK KINDA EXCITED 🙈🙈 HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY ILYSM

reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated !!

div creds to rightful owners

#ㅤ fic 𓂃⭑ᜊ #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fanfiction #svt scenarios #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #jeon wonwoo #svt fluff #seventeen #svt fanfiction #wonwoo x you #wonwoo fanfic

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neptnszn · 11 days

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ok first off love the geto fic!!!!! but i was thinking geto checking readers attitude. shes been on one all day and he just is finally over it. (maybe pussy slapping if comfortable with)

hii ‼️ thank you so much, appreciate the love from everyone 🙈☺️ MWAH

context

cw : pussy slapping & brat taming. that's it tbh.

but yeah anon I hear ya. though since suguru's generally on the more chill side, I don't feel like he'd brat tame you in a way that's more hands on..at first.

in fact I think his way of brat taming you is simply doing nothing in your favor until you cave.

I doubt he'd mind at first, simply taking the unnecessary arguments, eyerolls, and snide comments all day. maybe even return your energy back a little.

but as time goes on his patience would thin, and your bad attitude would gradually start to piss him off. love takes patience, he knows that much; but when you bug him about this, or that in an argumentative manner with no valid reason, he finds you difficult to put up with.

especially after that little stunt you pulled last night.

“hey.” suguru interrupts your meaningless rant about him buying almond milk instead of regular milk and blah blah blah. if you really gave a fuck, you would've joined him on the grocery shopping.

“is this what we're doin’ right now?”

the ambiguity of his question makes you falter, meeting his gaze which..seems to be unusually intense.

“what?” your face scrunches up in confusion, “what are you even talkin’ about?”

oh, okay. he tongues the inside of his cheek slightly, it's milk for christ's sake.

“don't be like that. you know damn well that you need to fix that attitude and calm down.”

you scoff, not believing that your attitude is the most irksome.

“yeah, ‘cause my attitude is the biggest problem right now. don't piss me off suguru—you can't avoid and evade with your nonchalance out of this one.”

oh.

okay.

“it's like I gotta discipline you like a little girl, d'you even think about that?”

suguru asks, voice breathless as he watches you from above. arm slung over the back of the couch and you—kneeling between his spread knees and gagging with his cock stretching your mouth. “but I bet you didn't even do that. can't think with dick down your throat, can you?”

he sees the dip in your brow and grins, taking pleasure in the current power imbalance between you both. he could get used to this.

but as you raise your head to argue again, he simply keeps a firm hand atop your head, forcing you to take him down deeper. “..it'd be in your best interest not to argue with me, sweetheart.”

fine, you sharply inhale through your nostrils. if you ignore the sodden panties sticking to your skin—pussy calling for his name in morse code, you think you can soften him up a bit.

you suck him, slowly but surely while your hands stroke where your lips can't reach, your challenging gaze meeting suguru's own.

he keeps his hand firm on your head, lips parted and head tilted back against the sofa, making sure he keeps your mouth fully occupied. his toes curl inwards under his socks when you begin to bob your head, pleasure liquifying his legs.

you make a gargled noise when his bulbous tip nudges the back of your throat, reaching another hand further down—right down to give his balls a gentle squeeze.

“fuuckk—mhmm..you know what I like,” he moans in appreciation before closing his fist around your hair in a makeshift ponytail and yanks you off of him. “alright, enough. get up here.”

that didn't take very long, you think.

wiping your mouth from the spit and his pre, you rise with wobbly knees and plop next to him on the couch. he spreads your thighs in no time at all, kneeling between them. you sigh, sinking into the couch while your lids slip shut. waiting for his touch.

but nothing comes.

when you reopen your eyes, a smug suguru stares back at you and even lets a little chuckle slip. “funny how you just assumed that i’d give you what you want after your poor attitude.” suguru's eyes twinkle with amusement, tracing light touches against the gentle curve of your abdomen. gentle, soft, nowhere near enough.

“god, suguru, please! i said i was sorry.” frustration creeps into your tone, and you toss your head back onto the armrest.

“did you?” that simple question and the look he gives you makes you question yourself, the realisation that you in fact did not hit you like a truck.

shamefully, you avert your gaze. “..sorry.”

yet all you get is a head shake from suguru, lips pursed in a thin line, trace, trace, trace.

“the nerve. all that rudeness ‘n for what? i’m nothing but good to you..”

he trails off, observing the way your skin rises when his feather-like touch grazes your belly button, dipping his fingers lower to tug your underwear all the way down, flicking it off your ankle. “i still don't know where you get the audacity.” he smirks.

your pulse quickens, watching the way his knuckles brush against your inner thigh, going up, up.

you feel it before you hear it—a swift ‘smack!’ against your bare cunt has you whimpering and seizing up. the pain knocks you off your guard, before it bleeds into pleasure, the new feeling making you completely disoriented.

once suguru sees your shocked, wide-eyed gaze, his ego swells and he folds his arms, staring you down as if he were daring you to say anything—to backtalk him again.

beats of silence pass and the weight of what suguru just did barely has time to sink in before he does it again. it's wetter this time and has more momentum. the collision you makes your hips jolt violently, and your legs hike up to your chest as you flinch and cry out his name. hot tears slip from their confines and roll down your cheeks.

suguru, however, is having a time. he brings his hand up to the dim lighting of the room, watching your glistening slick coat his fingertips and palm before he speaks, his tone almost scrutinising.

“of course, you'd get wet from me rightfully putting you in your place. nasty girl,” he purrs before popping two fingers into his mouth, the familiar taste of you flooding his senses.

“sugu—” you choke on a little sob, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. you can still feel the sting right on your clit.

“i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry. won't happen again.”

“yeah, it will. you're not foolin’ anybody here.” suguru rolls his eyes, swiping his forefinger against your swollen nub and your legs jitter at the contact. “y'know this is what happens to brats who can't check themselves, right?” he asks rhetorically.

he meets your gaze. “and I like to think that I have a good girl, who can behave in a way that doesn't have to make me do things like this.”

you nod weakly.

“thats what I know.” he nods once and pulls away. “i'll think about accepting your apology, but that depends on how well you can make me cum.” you hate to hear it. it takes everything in you not to groan or roll your eyes..but your heart jumps at the chance of redemption.

“c'mon then, on your knees pretty.”

#geto smut #jjk smut #jujitsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #★ — niyah responds !#★—spicy ☄️#★—neptnszn #BRAAAAAAP HERE WE GO AGAIN 🗣#the suguru rot is real

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woodandwaxwings · 5 months

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Behind Blue Eyes

"He couldn't help but look at him and search for those familiar blue eyes he had come to love only for them to be not there, for doe brown eyes to be in the place of his favorite watercolor blues."

Warnings: PTSD attack towards the end. loosely described though.

Y/n sighed as the bus he was taking stopped outside Jericho's bus stop. Now he had to commit to leaving Florida and the other peculiars he had grown up with, went to war with. Now he was in Vermont in a small town nobody but peculiars and outcasts would give more than half a shit about. Y/n smiled as 'you can tell she's a princess' from some Barbie movie he had never bothered to watch came from his phone, garnering odd looks as he picked up the phone. "Hey, Claire. I see you've finally learned how a phone works." Claire laughed on the other end, "Shut up! Are you there yet?" Y/n could almost imagine her twisting the honey-blonde curls she let grow out between her fingers. "I just got off the bus in Jericho. Do you know how far Vermont is from Florida? Really far." Y/n walked down the streets of Jericho, probably looking like he had just escaped an old film with his luggage bag he'd had since 1939 before being sent off to Miss Peregrine it was garnered in stickers Abe had sent with his letters to Emma. His outfit didn't help much despite Jake taking him shopping not long after arriving in Florida. With his flare jeans and corduroy jacket, he looked like someone had let one of the characters from That 70s Show loose in a mall. And his tattoos of course didn't help the strangers in small town Jericho from staring.

"How's school in Florida?" Y/n asked Claire as he entered a small coffee shop. After all the traveling, he was thirsty and tired and could go for some coffee. "Oh my bird, it's awesome! I've made so many friends..." He let Claire rant as he ordered a coffee from a long-haired brunette boy behind the counter. Y/n smiled and gave the boy a "thank you," as he handed him his coffee. He heard someone yell at Claire over the phone as he set down in a booth facing the entrance of the coffee shop. "Hey, Y/n, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, ok? Remember, don't be weird. Mwah," He smiled as he shut off his phone after she hung up and drank his coffee to regain the energy he had lost from the travel. "Where'd you come from?" Y/n looked up from his coffee to see another brunette boy with short hair. "Florida," Y/n spoke, her German accent pushing through his words making the boy laugh as he sat across from him uninvited. "Diese Schlampe,"(this bitch) Y/n murmured to himself. "Doesn't sound like it," The boy across from him said.

Y/n rolled his eye as he looked at the clock, "Ich habe keine Zeit dafür."(I don't have time for this) He said as he stood up and grabbed his bag, the boy across from him standing as well. "No seriously, where'd you come from." "Germany, then Wales, then Florida." He said as he pushed passed the boy in front of him, leaving the coffee shop and the annoying boy behind. He had only been there for about 30 minutes and he was already starting to hate this town, but a promise is a promise. He watched a different bus stop at the bus stop and several kids in uniforms exit. He knew he was supposed to get on that bus but as he looked for the driver's eyes, only for them to be concealed by dark sunglasses he decided right then it would be a better idea to walk to Nevermore. He'd take possible haunted woods over wights any day. He began to walk in the direction that the bus had come from, his fingers shaking as he had to turn his back to the man, mentally preparing himself to trigger his peculiarity hollows be damned.

"Well, look who decided to step out of the 40s." Y/n turned on his heels as he recognized the voice from behind him. "Yoko, hallo." She and the girl on her side walked up to him. "Was machst du in Jericho?" (What are you doing in Jericho) She asked him. Y/n vaguely remembered Yoko from his early years in the children's home before it became his loop. Her fathers were friends with Miss Peregrine. "Wieso bist du nicht tot?"(How are you not dead) She asked as she looked him over, noticing that he was 17 and not 13 or dirt. "The library is gone." He answered in English, noticing Yoko's companion's confusion. "It's real?" Y/n shrugged, "Was real." Yoko noticed his eyes darting back to the bus behind them. "Er ist ein Mensch." (he is human.) Yoko said and watched as his shoulders relaxed. "Benutzen Sie den Bus. (use the bus) It's faster than walking." Y/n nodded as he walked past them and got on the bus. "Another bus ride," Y/n thought to himself as he sat down and the bus began made its way back to Nevermore.

"Sorry for scarin' ya' kid." Y/n looked away from the window and to the bus driver. "You're not the first peculiar kid to try walkin' to Nevermore instead of getting on my bus." Y/n nodded, "Sorry for assuming." The bus driver shook his head as he stopped at the school, "Never apologize for being safe." Y/n nodded as he got off the bus, "Thanks for the ride." The bus driver nodded, "Just doin' my job." Y/n gave the man a smile as he walked through the front entrance of Nevermore. He sighed. If only Victor was here with him if only this was 20 years ago. "if only"s could go on forever, but here he was alone. "Hi," He looked down at the boy who spoke to him. "Hi," He looked the young boy up and down, he could only be about 14. "I'm Eugene Ottinger, peculiar. Principal Weems thought you would be more comfortable with one of us leading you around, and I was the only one available." Y/n nodded as he ranted he reminded him a lot of Millard. "I heard you came from a loop. Is that true? I've never been in a loop before. What can you do? I have a psychic connection to bees," Y/n followed behind him as the young boy guided him around the school. He suddenly stopped, "This is Weems's office. She'll get you enrolled and show you to your dorm." Y/n nodded as he knocked on the door, Eugene leaving him behind.

"You must be Y/n L/n." A tall blonde woman, who Y/n assumed was Principal Weems, said as she opened the door. "Come in," She pulled the door further open, letting him walk into her office. "Very rarely do we ever get peculiars here." Y/n nodded, "Most of us stick to loops instead of school." Weems nodded as she sat behind her desk. "School doesn't start for another 3 days so you should have plenty of time to get situated." She said as Y/n looked around her office. "Do I have to buy a uniform or are they provided?" Y/n asked as he finally sat down on the other side of her desk. "They are provided." Principal Weems set a paper down facing him, "You've already registered so no need for any mindless paperwork. I'll give you you uniform before showing you to your dorms and then your roommate can give you a tour of the school." Y/n nodded as Miss Weems stood and grabbed a purple box that was set off to the side. "Nevermore's welcome package," She said as she handed it to Y/n. "Shall I show you to your dorm room now?" She asked but it wasn't really a question as she opened the door to her office and gestured for him to exit.

"Nevermore prides itself on being a diverse learning environment for all of it's attendants." Weems began the welcome speech spiel. "You'll find that all of our outcasts intermingle well," Her words were said in a tone that screamed 'behave'. "And that is something our school would like to continue to pride itself on." Y/n nodded as she walked down the dormitory halls, "You'll be rooming with Ajax Petropolus." Weems said as she opened the door to one of the dorm rooms, "Who does not appear to be here," She mumbled under her breath as she let Y/n into the room. As Y/n set his suitcase and "welcome package" down on the bare twin bed on the right side of the dorm a boy rushed into the room. "Sorry," He said to both him and the principal as he fixed his beanie. "Hi, Ajax," He stuck his hand out for Y/n to shake and that's when he really got a look at him. Shit, he was screwed. The universe must hate him because he couldn't help but look at him and search for those familiar blue eyes he had come to love only for them to be not there, for doe brown eyes to be in the place of his favorite watercolor blues.

"Y/n," He finally said when he realized he was staring, hesitantly shaking his hand. "Cool," Ajax said, seemingly oblivious. "I'll leave you to get situated," Weems said as she left, shutting the door behind her. Y/n then stepped back and walked back to his side of the room, "What happened to your previous roommate?" He asked as he opened his luggage bag, placing the framed picture of him and Victor face down on his bedside table. "He graduated," Ajax said as he sat on his own bed. "So what's your deal?" Y/n paused in his unpacking, turning to face his roommate, "What?" Ajax shrugged, "Y'know, what's your thing? Are you a psychic? Werewolf?" Y/n nodded, "Oh. I'm peculiar." Ajax shrugged, "Well I wouldn't say peculiar, but you do dress a little weird." "Bist du dumm?" (Are you stupid?) Y/n asked as he shoved his clothes into the dresser drawer that also seemed to be a table. "Excuse me?" Ajax shook his head. "I'm peculiar, as in that's my thing." Ajax just gave him a confused stare. "Forget it. Aren't you supposed to give me a tour of the school or something?"

The gorgon shot up from his bed, "Right! Sorry, forgot." Y/n felt almost disoriented as he watched Ajax. Everything about him was exactly the same but so different to Victor, like the reflection in a distorted mirror came to life. "So this is one of four dormitory halls. There are two girls' dormitories and two boys' dormitories." Ajax begins as he exits the room, expecting Y/n to follow him and he does. "Nevermore was founded by Nathaniel Faulkner in 1791, the dormitories being added on in 1840 and were renovated in 1940." Y/n nodded as he followed Ajax down the stairs to the courtyard. "I'm not going to have to memorize any of this, am I?" Y/n watched as his brown eyes went wide like a deer in the headlights, "Huh? Oh, no. It's just a bunch of crap." Y/n looked around the courtyard to find it almost barren. "I figured there'd be more people here." Ajax looked over the courtyard as well, "Yeah, most people will be showing up tomorrow to get unpacked and stuff. Oh yeah, um, this is the courtyard. Mostly everyone eats their meals here." The two walked around the courtyard to an Edgar Allen Poe statue. "This is our statue in tribute to Edgar Allen Poe, I'm like 90% sure he was like an alumni."

"I don't give a shit about Edgar Allen Poe," Y/n said as he looked Ajax up and down. "Do we have to wear our uniforms all the time?" Ajax shrugged, "I mean most people tend to wear theirs while on campus." Y/n nodded. "So is that a no? yes?" The two stared at each other for a moment, and then a short blonde girl approached them. "Hey, Ajax!" She spoke excitedly. Both boys turn to face her as if being snapped out of a trance. "Oh hey, Enid. " Ajax looked between the two people in front of him. "Enid this is Y/n." HE pointed to Y/n and then pointed to Enid, "Y/n this is Enid. She's a werewolf." Y/n nodded and stuck his hand out for the girl to shake. Enid shakes his hand but doesn't let go of it. "Oh my gosh!" She turns his hand over so the back of his hand is facing upward. "I love your tattoo! Is it real?" Y/n could practically imagine a tail wagging behind her. "Yeah. A friend of mine chose it for me. She said to just use my peculiarity with it whenever I miss her."

Ajax furrows his brows as he leans to look at the thickly lined butterfly. "What can you do?" He and Enid asked almost in sync. Y/n smiled a cheeky smile as he placed his other hand over the top of the one Enid still had a tight grip on. "Wach auf."(Wake up) He whispered before removing his hand to reveal a live black and white butterfly sitting on his hand where the tattoo was. Enid giggled as the butterfly flew up to her nose, following Y/n's eyes as he mentally guided it. "Cool," Enid mumbled as it sat on her face. She jumped as Y/n swatted his hand out to grab the insect and the two watched as the tattoo faded back onto his hand. "Sweet. It's kinda like Xavier's powers." Y/n nodded despite not knowing who they were talking about. There then was a sudden boom that resembled a cannon being fired or a boulder falling. Y/n's heart picked up as he squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his hands so hard over his ears that they began to ring. Memories he wished he did a better job at pushing down came flooding to the surface as he grew lightheaded.

#ajax petropolus #ajax #ajax x reader #ajax petropolis x reader #ajax petropolus x reader #ajax petropolis #x male reader #male reader #x reader #mphfpc #male y/n #wednesday #wednesday series #victor bruntley x reader #victor bruntley #miss peregrines home for peculiar children

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krash-and-co · 6 months

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OK KERMIT VS KIPPS FICLET

I am so sorry (not really) idk what happened to me (I have always been insane)

as usual vote kipps in @favcharacterpoll !!!

fic under cut. and yes, the title is from being green. mwah

it seems you blend in (with so many other ordinary things)

Quill’s boots scraped under his feet at his slow trek across rough cement. It was dark, it was cold, it was long past curfew and fear sent icy nails scraping the back of his neck. Specters longed for his life force, longed for the rush of a living soul.

But they weren’t the only thing to fear tonight.

He didn’t know why he agreed to come out. Anybody with half a mind would have just stayed home, but Kipps was prideful. Kipps was too prideful. So of course he’d agreed to meet up tonight, despite better judgement and care for his own life.

And it was too late now to go back.

He tightened his grip on his rapier and carried on walking.

The trip to the alley was short and definitely not sweet, more incriminating than anything-- bad shit happens in a back alley most times. You find bodies there. Kipps didn't want to be one of them, but it wasn't looking too likely he wouldn't see his nose to the floor at least once. At least he had the sense to bring his goggles so he wasn't dead before even arriving.

Scratch, tap. Scratch, tap.

His footsteps came to a stop.

He took in his surroundings on instinct.

Around him was garbage, which wasn't a huge surprise. In between him were two brick walls, seeming ever so close to squeezing in on him (perhaps his imagination?) but a surprising lack of ghosts at all. But he still didn't feel alone. Kipps pressed his goggles harder on his face, as if that would help at all.

Nothing.

Somehow that was even more unsettling.

"What have you done?" Kipps called into the night, although no one was nearby. "And how? You know, my team could use someone wh-- oof!"

Something had kicked his stomach. He keeled over.

"Show yourself!" he wheezed. Stumbling to his feet, Quill waved his rapier aimlessly.

As if he was back where he was last year.

As if he was back being blind to the threats of the world.

Damnit, he was better than that. Not much, but--

A flash of movement.

Kipps stabbed.

A clang of metal.

Kipps lunged.

A shove to his back.

Kipps swung around. He felt cloth in his fingers, fuzzy like felt, and squeezed so it couldn't escape. "Gotcha," he smirked, which lasted all of two seconds.

The cloth in his hands was gone before he could register.

"Who are you!?" Kipps yelled. "We're ending this now, damnit!"

You are, maybe, came a voice from above.

No, left. No, right. No, below? Kipps swung his rapier in every one of those directions at least twice.

"You are, maybe," he repeated mockingly under his breath. "Shut the fuck up." Which was kind of bold for someone five foot one with his only weapon pointed at a brick wall.

Are you afraid? the voice asked laughingly.

"Me? no," Kipps replied, afraid. "You, however--"

A clatter behind him. A grip on his shoulder. A manly scream.*

Hi ho, called a whisper from everywhere all at once. Kermit the frog here.

*(author's note: male toddlers are still male, it counts.)

#lockwood and co fanfic #krash fic #kipps vs kermit #lockwood and Co #quill kipps #kermit the frog #the muppets #hey fun game who can look me in the eyes after this #krash’s personal faves

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elliewlums · 1 year

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ok so now that i’m finally here !!!

atwow brainrot has been strong (neteyam ma babyyy)

and i am just obsessed w the idea of me neteyam being a sweet yandere for a human!r. like he just sees her as this prescious thing that must be protected n he’d kill anyone who tries to take her away from him. he’s just SO in love, just the perfect boyfriend. but he switches up real fast when others try to make fun of her / get too close (he’s only ok w his family being near her bcz he wants wants the perfect big family) and r is in love too so she’s absolutely oblivious to his hostility to others concerning her. bcz the thing is, is that when she’s not there , he’s perfectly fine but when r is around he’s like this close to hissing growling at everyone. but he has to like toe the line bcz he’s the next clan leader and he loves his ppl. also i think that r n spider would be talking n neteyam would be like 😡 and spider would have to be like woah woah woah i’m no mister steal ur girl 🏳️ (and omg did u know that tuk is 5’7/170 cm? i’m only 5’/152 cm 😭)

mkay love u lily!! mwah mwah 🫶🏽🌷🍄

shut up i need him omg. i have nothing to add to this u wrote it so well so everyone needs to read this as a treat😔🫶

i love you!!❤️ (and omg im taller than tuk!!)

#love letters #ily #precious moots #neteyam sully #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x human reader #yandere!neteyam

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jussst-lurking · 10 months

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CAN I REQUEST A COMBO, QUESTION

"Are you ok?" "Yeah I'm fine. *immediately faceplants because their legs can't support their weight anymore*"

Stopping their heart (cue the team scrambling to drag their dumbass friend back from death)

sending you lurvvvvv LIVE LONG AND PROSPER <3<3<3 MWAH

Heyyy💖, so uhm, this really got out of hand and I wrote like 2.3k for it in one sitting! I'm putting it here, but I also posted it on ao3 because I thought it would be more convenient to read, I hope you enjoy! 🖖

Charles feels the exact moment Lando’s magic runs out. It’s like a seal breaking, like a hand pulling him further into darkness, calling to something much more sinister within him, a carefully held balance being knocked off-kilter, scales tipped too far in one direction.

He whips around to where Lando is fighting down at the river, where he can feel his presence rapidly fading.

No.

No, no no, not now. Not when they’ve almost made it out of this fucking death trap unscathed. (Not ever, he can’t bear the thought, couldn’t stand to lose him.)

A dark figure, cloaked in purple robes, face hidden behind a mask like the others, looms over Lando, a runic blade aloft, ready to strike. A rune spinner, hells no. Lando is shrinking, stumbling backwards, his life force waning, ever closer to joining Charles’ side.

Everything around Charles goes silent, blurry, hazy like a fever dream. His entire focus zeroes in on Lando and his opponent. With no regard for the consequences, he abandons his own battle - his servants will make short work of it now the balance has tipped in their favour - and storms through the trees, down the rocky riverbank into the waters of the shallow river. In one fluid motion he pulls out his dagger and draws it over his left forearm, cold blood gushing from the wound, flowing down to his scarlet-stained fingertips, singing with new warmth as magic thrums through it. A prayer tumbles from his lips, barely registering, and the shadows surge forward, rising from the water, peeling themselves off the bark of the surrounding trees, springing from the rocks that make up the river bed. The figure turns, notices him too late, they always do. That’s the thing with shadows, no one pays them any mind until they’re not where they’re supposed to be.

Darkness engulfs the rune spinner, a roar vibrating in Charles’ chest, the howling of a hundred dogs, triumphant, satisfied. When the shadows dissipate, nothing’s left. Not the robe, nor the mask or the sword, nothing. Charles’ wrath ebbs off, lazy satisfaction spreading through him, warm and soothing like healing tea. It doesn’t last.

Coming back to his senses, Charles rushes over to Lando, who is barely keeping himself upright. He wants to touch him, wants to cradle his face between his hands, but he can’t, not right now, not yet, not when his blood is still running warm.

“Chéri, are you ok?”, Charles rasps, worry eating a hole into his chest. If Lando really used every last drop of his magic… he doesn’t want to think about it.

Lando’s skin is pale, his posture sunken in, eyelids drooping shut, body trembling like the icy grip of death is stealing all his warmth. Deep down Charles knows that is exactly what’s happening.

“Yeah, I’m fine”, he whispers, voice thin, shaky, not complying. The moment the words leave his lips, Lando collapses to the ground.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Charles kneels next to him, his robes soaking wet with river water, as he desperately searches for a pulse. Thank magic, he finds one. It’s weak and Lando hasn’t got long, but it’s there. If only- He needs- Frantically, Charles looks up at the sky, searching, where in the seven hells is- there. A glint of gold, high above them, Max’s wings glowing in the sun. He must have felt the disturbance too, which can only mean… Charles’ heart sinks when he sees two purple-robed wind riders circling Max, throwing daggers and blasts of wind, locked in fierce combat. Max shoots arrows at them, dodges their attacks with no way out of there.

Charles takes a deep, steadying breath. Max will be fine, he always is, and if not, Charles has enough blood left to make him stronger, give him all the power he needs. His attention focuses back on Lando, who is fading further and further, losing warmth. The shadows are waiting for him, ready to pounce like a horde of hungry dogs, but Charles forces them back. He’s still in control here.

What now? Max can’t help them, he would have arrived here long ago if he could.

Damn it.

Charles’ powers weren’t made for healing, all he knows how to do is take, take the warmth of others, destroy them, drag them down the icy pit he crawled out of. But magic be damned, if Max can hone his healing touch into a deadly weapon, then Charles bloody well can do the opposite.

One chance.

One way.

Charles knows in his core that there is one thing he can do to save Lando.

Blood, shadow, sacrifice, they’re his daily bread.

How do you save a life?

Charles only has himself to give. He’s had his second chance, and Lando, he’s so young, so fragile, so mortal, has barely lived, not like Charles and Max have… if anyone deserves a second chance it’s him.

Charles scrambles for his dagger, draws another gash over his arm, deeper this time, the blade burning as it slashes his skin. The blood runs over his palm, gathers at the tips of his fingers, warming up one last time. One life for another, that’s how it goes. He rips Lando’s shirt open, draws an intricate sigil over his heart, blood soaking into ashen skin. There is no incantation this time, no prayer. Charles leans over Lando, taking his hand in his bloody one, and kisses him. One last time.

“Take me, not him”, he whispers, before he draws back and lays down next to Lando, their fingers still entwined.

He knows it’s working the moment the words leave his mouth, his heartbeat slows, cold and shadow draw nearer, a mob of wild dogs coming for their master. It’s all the magic he had left, all the life. They’re both leaving him, oozing out of him like the blood from his wound. He wishes Max was here, Charles would love to kiss him goodbye. At least he’s not leaving Max alone like last time, he’ll still have Lando… Both his loves, living happily ever after because of Charles’ sacrifice. There are worse ways to go.

The shadows are close. His heartbeat slow. Somewhere, a lone crow sings for him. The pull in his gut drags him away from here, down to a cold, damp place. Charles knows it well. He listens to the final notes of his heart, the drum of death accompanying him home. It was nice while it lasted.

Thump.

***

Max knows the second the balance tips that Lando is in danger, mortal danger. Heat burns through the seal like a cigarette bud through a napkin.

No. Fuck, no!

Every fibre of his being screams at him to turn his back to his two remaining enemies, rush to Lando’s side and heal him before it’s too late, but every time he tries to make an escape, one of the wind riders blocks him, takes a strike at him with a storm dagger. Max parries it with his wings, molten gold gleaming in the sun as he barrel-rolls in mid-air, dodging another attack, shooting a golden arrow with his next move.

“Where are you trying to go?”, one of them giggles behind her mask. It sounds like wind chimes.

“You don’t seriously think we’d let you leave”, the other taunts from behind him.

Max growls, a sound from deep in his throat, like boiling lava threatening to erupt from a volcano.

The wind riders shrink back, and Max is about to retaliate, when a shock of cold bites at him, snaps at his heels like a ferocious dog. Charles!

Max looks down, sees shadows gather over the river, drawing closer and closer to two figures lying in the shallow water. Naked panic grips him, halts him in his movements. Just what the fuck is happening down there? If he could just-

“They will both die soon”, one of the wind riders purrs close to his ear.

Where is she? Max can’t see her.

“And then we’ll finally have our way with you, golden boy”, the other adds, a sound like rustling leaves blowing over the back of his neck.

“You’re much stronger than them anyways. You don’t need them”, the first one continues, further away this time.

The two of them reappear, gusts of wind shaping into purple robes and silver masks, mocking him, mocking Lando and Charles. Lando and Charles who are dying. He drops his bow and arrows.

“You’re so much fun to play with.”

“And a lot more valuable than our other toys.”

Divine rage slices through the paralysing panic, lets it go up in flames, and Max’s vision goes white for a second, as waves upon waves of heat roll off him, singeing his enemies’ robes and hair, scorching their laughter away. He’s reached the tipping point, and without Lando to hold him in check no one stands a chance against him.

The wind riders writhe in agony, captured in the throes of Max’s heat, unable to move or summon soothing winds to help them, but it’s not enough. He wants a slaughter, he wants to hear their screams as their burning bodies bow down before him, begging for mercy. He won’t give it to them.

Max turns up the heat, the two rings on either of his middle fingers tingling as he draws on their power. Just a little more and he’s going nova. His wings are melting, droplets of gold dripping down, far to the ground below. He doesn’t care, doesn’t feel the pain. Gold is replaceable, Charles and Lando aren’t. He won’t let them die, won’t let some lowly elemental servants ridicule them. They are scum, sticking to the sole of his shoes, nothing more.

Max releases another heatwave. The smell of burning flesh fills his nose. He draws a deep breath, feasts on the offering, his veins ablaze with power.

The wind riders scream, muffled behind their masks, liquified metal melding with skin.

Max spreads his wings, spins in a pirouette, golden droplets hitting his enemies like bullets, hard enough to break skin.

He doesn’t stay to watch their lifeless forms fall to the ground, already going into a nosedive, rushing to Charles and Lando. Water rises up in clouds of steam, the shadows draw back when he lands next to them. The air is full of the iron tang of blood; Chalres’ magic.

Reigning himself back in as to not hurt the two of them any further takes all of Max’s self-control, but he manages to cool down to a non-lethal temperature before he approaches. He crouches down beside them, takes their pulses… one pulse. For fuck’s sake, Charles! Max’s throat goes dry, burning with tears he won’t cry. This is not over yet. He won’t let it happen.

At that moment, Lando opens his eyes.

Relief floods through Max, but it doesn’t do much to dissolve the lump in his throat or calm the furious beating of his heart in the face of losing Charles.

Nevertheless, he scoots closer, takes Lando’s hand, the one that’s not holding Charles’ lifeless one.

“Lando! Lando what happened, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help, I- we- we’re losing him-”, Max babbles, but the rest of the words get stuck in his throat as his gaze falls to Lando’s chest, the blood drying on it, the sigil seeped deep under his skin, a mark that won’t fade. His hands ball into fists. He exhales a shaky breath. Presses his forehead against Lando’s.

“The fucking idiot”, Max whispers, “baby, can you… balance-”, the words don’t come, Max’s body trembles, threatening to shut down. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take.

Lando shakes his head, a movement that shouldn’t be as small and barely perceptible as it is.

Of course he can’t, what is Max thinking? He presses a soft kiss to Lando’s temple.

“Ok, you just rest, baby, I’ll find a way, I’ll fix this.”

As gently as he can, Max moves over to Charles. Charles’ body, a voice in the back of his mind corrects. Max grits his teeth. Not yet. Not fucking yet. Not if he has anything to say about it.

He lays one hand on Charles’ chest, right over his unmoving heart, the other over his closed eyes. A warm, golden glow radiates out from his palms. With it the sun, a mild spring day, hope, life. Max soaks Charles’ cold body with it.

Cold. He’s always cold. This doesn’t mean anything.

Nothing happens.

Nothing happens, and that’s unacceptable, wrong, impossible.

The rings on his fingers burn, searing his skin. Next thing he knows, an earth-shattering scream rips from his throat.

“GIVE HIM BACK!!!”, his voice is thunder; power, life, magic thrumming through him like a solar storm.

Lando whimpers next to him. Max barely notices it.

A force, cold and dark, pushes back against him, familiar, like Charles, but older, stronger, hostile. Max forces it back, incinerates the claws stilling Charles’ heart through sheer force of will.

“GIVE HIM BACK YOU OLD CLAMMY BASTARD!”

Max pushes against the shadows, the biting cold with all his might, and finally, the presence retreats.

“You will come to regret this”, the frost hisses, before the last bit of it dissipates under the warmth of Max’s fingertips.

Thump.

A heartbeat.

Max collapses on top of Charles, face buried in his chest, listening to the slow beating of his heart.

“He’s alive”, Max whispers, voice completely wrecked, and finally gives in, lets the tears fall freely.

He kisses Charles’ cold cheek, folds his wings and rolls off him to lie between his lovers in the shallow water, takes both their hands, feels blood pulsing through their veins.

Lando turns to weakly pet Max’s hair with his free one.

“You saved us”, he croaks.

Max bites his lower lip, shakes his head. They all saved each other. They are alive, and they’ll make it out of here, reach the sanctuary further upstream and recover, but for now, he needs a moment to catch his breath and regain enough strength to continue this never-ending journey.

#prompts #writing #fanfic #f1 rpf #norlestappen #norstappen #lestappen #charlando #yes this is me pushing my winged max agenda #btw it’s 3am here

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waylibee-analysis-firm · 7 months

Text

mustang theory (ch09)

guys im being so serious rn. im so scared to post this. but bee is being wonderfully supportive (as usual <3) and i am going to be. so very Brave. this may not be coherent, but...i hope it makes some sort of sense ok. anyways here is the theory for ch09:

mike and will leave the camp dance early bc of Bad Memories and/or they would rather just be making out (which is. fair)

(fearless lore is referenced throughout but also will be theorized/posted about separately)

this would be proven by the references to wish you were sober by conan gray (yes ik it’s not in relation to ch09 but. this part Could Happen at the end of ch08…just saying).

this specific theory is fueled by the weird eureka moment i had regarding this post. is this a reach? yes. do i fucking care? no.

they take mike’s car, despite will’s grumblings abt his stupid fucking mustang.

ch01 im staring. Directly at you. shut up. shut up. i hear what you’re saying and i just can’t listen right now okay. ch01 we’ll get back to you i prommy

“Also, God forbid I have to leave the grounds in Mike Wheeler’s stupid fucking Mustang more than once this summer," he adds, nearly spitting. (ch01)

need i say more.

also this would totally be building more on their trust....plus probably some references from follow the sparks that i don't know off the top of my head

also could have been foreshadowed by ch02…when will refused to get into mike’s stupid. fucking. mustang. just saying….

ch02 is also biggest fearless lore references we have that i can think of but that is for another time

“Don’t tell me you’re driving that thing,” Will scoffs, eyeing Mike’s car in trepidation, eyes sweeping along the length of the racing stripes. (ch02)

...forcing Will to declare a lesser of two evils: throwing dignity to the wind and accepting a ride in the Mustang — the undeserving bane of Will’s existence...(ch02)

CAR EMOJI !!!!

this chapter is “thea’s baby”. well thea is also the resident car expert.

im literally so funny for this sorry not sorry im cracking myself up ->

either something happens between them and they end up pulled over OR something happens to the stupid fucking mustang

THIS could be that one post thea made…which could have been totally innocent OR it could have been COMPLETELY SINISTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OUT TO GET US!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! putting on my tinfoil hat

smth happens between them...backseat driver will (mentioned in ch02) as well as the stupid. FUCKING how to drive manual that's been driving me INSANE the past couple of days (found here.)

side note: thea i love you but you are driving me Bonkers (mwah <3)

alternative to the above point is that mike pulls over to 1) make out with will (again. which is again. fair.) 2) chat with will about what they Are

option 2) would require some sort of shift in their relationship/situationship beforehand…im thinking this could mean you know that i caught it could take place BEFORE or DURING ch9… this could be the They Know motif coming to a head (meaning everybody. they Know for real this time. and now mike’s confused about it. “what are we?” talk from ch05 but times a million)

“save me ‘till the party’s over/kiss me in the seat of your rover”

^^ regarding this. i wrote all of this before i rediscovered that wish u were sober has nothing to do with ch09 (supposedly). im just too lazy to change it bear with me please.

will gets mad at mike for some reason?

if the original point made (something happens to the stupid fucking mustang) ends up happening, this could be will’s breaking point bc he’s overwhelmed and panicked and stuff is happening too fast for him

ch09 is a will pov chapter.

also frustrated crier (some ask about ch04 that i need to find to link before this gets posted)…just saying.

will gets mad at mike continued and reverts back to his I Need to Hurt You phase bc it’s safe and he doesn’t know how to handle the UNDOUBTEDLY romantic feelings n thoughts he’s having about mike…

he’s scared of getting hurt again like he was with derek and he’s scared of the unfamiliar territory that comes with being nice to mike/having mike be nice in return

This type of gentleness is certainly a facet of Will that Mike has known, having seen it more than a handful of times over the years, but it’s not quite one he’s accustomed to. (ch06)

this ^^ goes both ways i assume...there's gotta be evidence abt it in a will pov chapter but i am. exhausted.

he lashes out at mike that they aren’t anything, they’re just a casual fwb situationship, etc.

wow would you look at that…this is paralleling the fearless lore theory…

cue "straight up" by paula abdul for mike pov (i've been a fool before/wouldn't like to get my love caught in the slammin' door/how about some information, please? // straight up now tell me/do you really want to love me forever oh, oh, oh/or am I caught in a hit-and-run?/straight up now tell me/is it gonna be you and me together oh, oh, oh/or are you just having fun?)

“Hit-and-run” CAR IMAGERY ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

"straight up" by paula abdul is on mike's driving playlist and i've been going insane about it since i saw it. btw. i love this song.

mike's unsure abt what they Are/what will is thinking so he reverts to the childish fighting thing too...pushing will's buttons is second nature for him by this point...evidence for this in a mike pov i will find later prommy

this is also wish you were sober coded “trip down the road, walking you home/you kiss me at your door/pullin’ me close, beg me ‘stay over’/but im over this roller coaster/imma crawl out of the window now/gotten good at saying ‘gotta bounce’/honestly you always let me down/and i know we’re not just hanging out”

first half here. could be about how mike is begging will for a relationship. but will is “over the rollercoaster” and the push and pull of their friendship to rivalry to fwb situation.

second half here. will’s metaphorically leaving mike (crawling out the window). he’s “gotten good at saying ‘gotta bounce’” bc he’s done this to mike Before when they kissed when they were thirteen…i Think (fearless lore theory). “honestly you always let me down” could be a reference to. will being angry with mike for not just being happy with their fwb, even though he wants more too? “i know we’re not just hanging out” come ON this is will saying he KNOWS THEY CANT JUST BE CASUAL. HE LITERALLY SAYS THIS IN CH05 I BELIEVE. OR MIKE DOES IN CH06. THEY CAN’T BE ANYTHING BUT EACH OTHERS EVERYTHING.

^^ literally kill me now i can't believe none of this is related. curling up into a little ball and sobbing.

this would be the beginning of the Angst that’s a 3-4 on a scale of 10 bc we know they're both idiots just miscommunicating But. hey.

so that's uh. that's the outline of the Theory we currently have...it's our most fleshed out one rn fs but there are a few Others that were referenced here that we need some more information on...

anyways. thanks for being insane with us. <3

#/theory #/mustang theory (ch09)#god help me. i did this All.#collapses #also girldummy if u see this...was gonna post my ch06 comment in ao3 tn but i am So Tired so you will prob be seeing me there sometime #this week <3 if thats ok #ps. if anybody finds anything off about this that i didnt already point out. please feel free to share.#i dont care if im wrong im just having fun But. this is just a working theory...and if we can find more evidence for it or #we change it completely bc smth else works better #that's okay too! that's what this blog is for :)#ok done now #🫧

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