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jensthwa · 2 months ago

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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.

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