#but honestly if you make it all the way through this

[smuttysabina]

A Month With Aespa (Ch 5): A Taste of Winter

(Male Reader x Karina x Winter, 3k Words) Tags: Rampant lesbianism; Excessive foreplay; Immense Creampies; Twintails get used as handlebars, These outfits were honestly wild, they should wear more fishnets; some voyeurism; Vaginal and Oral sex; Threesome; Some Fisting

Read Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4 here!

It had so far been a perfectly ordinary day. You had spent a great deal of your time luxuriating in the gardens that still glistened with the morning's dew, sampling some new delicacies from the kitchen, and had received a somewhat mediocre, if enthusiastic, pleasuring from Ningning (who had insisted upon using her modest breasts to prove her bust's superiority over Karina's; it were not). So, aside from a rather strained painting of an idol's chest with your seed, your day had otherwise been filled with whimsy and the like; you could already hear your maids muttering to themselves about the lack of attention. It was in the late afternoon then that you were strolling through the corridors, eyeing your passing staff to see if any felt particularly fulfilling to well, fill, when you notice Karina scurrying through a service passage. It was surprising enough to see her out and about considering her penchant for staying in her room all day, but it was even more surprising to see doing so dressed like a cheap (well, moderately priced, really) whore. A tightening of your groin indicates that any further consideration about a potential distraction was not required; your darling maids would understand completely.

You follow Karina at a leisurely pace, keeping her barely in sight as you stroll along, giving you only glimpses of her outfit as she darts around corners and down stairways. Her exotic twintails bouncing erratically as she weaves a confusing path through your grandfather's manor; or at least it would be had you not known the place like the rear of your old anatomy teacher (Ms. Hendricks had held a rather hands-on view towards teaching, and her sizable posterior a formidable tool in that respect). As it was, you always managed to keep track of Karina as she wound her way back to where she started, and you find your curiosity further piqued as she seems to hesitate in front of the door of one of your other guests, before softly knocking on the door and slipping inside. Of course, the only other guests in the mansion were the other members of Aespa, so now you were well and truly baffled by the entire scheme of hers'; why bother bustling about if her eventual destination was literally feet away? Your brow furrowed with thought, you hurry to the service corridors yourself, and from there into the servant's passages that honeycombed the walls of your residence. You step quietly over to the peephole that looks into Winter's room, and peer intently through it, keen to discover just what the idols were up to (Hm? I'm sorry, why exactly is the mansion riddled with cuck-holes you ask? Obviously because where is the thrill of illicit love-making if there is not the risk of it getting exposed? Also the maids do love to watch, even if it does leave the place rather damp at times).

The view through the narrow opening was somewhat limited, but fortuitously the two idols had placed themselves upon Winter's bed directly in front of it. Now that she was finally still, you could truly examine in detail Karina's outfit, and found yourself suitably impressed. Her long twintails frames her sizable bust quite nicely, which though shrouded by fabric was still pleasantly arousing, and the black fishnets that led up to her miniskirt were the icing upon the proverbial cake. Winter by contrast was a brighter version of Karina, her fishnets were pink, as was the open skirt around her waist, which was conspicuously lacking anything to cover up her darker-hued panties. Yet more fishnetted lingerie covered her arms and chest, and her more modest twintails were set further back on her head; it was surprising to see them dressed so sensually, neither had bothered since their first days at the mansion. Giselle on the other hand seemed to revel in extravagant outfits, nearly as much as she enjoyed annoying you enough to bend her over in a service corridor, praise be that your maids were experts in removing semen stains! Of course Ningning also could be seen flaunting her body in sleek dresses and shifts, though those were rarely on her body long enough for you to truly appreciate them these days.

But the bemusement at seeing Karina and Winter not in their usual sweats or pajamas was swiftly escalated when the pair begin to make out. Your eyes practically bulge as you watch Karina melting into Winter's arms, their lips locked tightly together as their hands roam each other's bodies. Now this was a truly unexpected development, you had imagined that Aespa would have been carnally familiar with one another, but the manner in which the two were kissing indicated an intimacy that surpassed casual sex. You are surprised to feel a stab of jealousy as Winter freely mauls Karina's ample breasts through her shirt, the latter's constant denials had you feeling a touch possessive in your desires towards her. And Winter's consistent polite coldness towards your advances had made you think it was simply a quirk of her personality, yet with the other idol she showed a gleefully honest lack of restraint. You had thought you would catch the girls gossiping away or the like, and yet here they were, engaging in passionate foreplay that would no doubt soon devolve into outright sex! So, with a rather particular tightness in your pants, you sit forwards to enjoy the show.

You knew that lesbians tended to take awhile with their foreplay, but frankly, this was getting ridiculous. Karina and Winter were still merely kissing and petting one another, why, they had not even moved from that particular spot on Winter's bed! Surely the idols must be so worked up by this point that they were literally dripping wet, you certainly were, but no, the pair spared only the gentlest of touches to their sexes; and remained completely clothed! With an irritable huff you force yourself to settle, indulgent excess was meaningless without restraint, as your dear grandfather had been so fond of saying (He had also been wont to repeat "through anal fornication, comes perfection", so perhaps you should harken too closely to his, ah, wisdom). Yet, nothing happened. It was as if the members of Aespa were putting on a show for none (obviously they would assume their little tryst was going unwatched after Karina's stealthy antics), that, or they were appallingly chaste with one another. There was only so much teasing one could tolerate however, and the only reason why you had not faltered in your determination to copulate with Karina and merely emptied yourself into some passing maid, was that one had not wandered by yet. So you rationalize that it was only your duty as a gracious host that you properly encourage those two to, well, get on with it; some couples do require a helping hand (or member) after all!

Filled with fresh resolve, you retrace your steps out into the main hallway, past several maids who eye your obvious bulge with more than a little interest, and right to Winter's door. After taking a moment to adjust yourself so that your erection was not blatantly visible, you knock briefly before inviting yourself inside, a kindly request for some advice regarding Giselle's mundane habit of leaving her belongings everywhere dying on your lips as Karina and Winter break out of their embrace to glare at you in parodies of shock and surprise. You cough awkwardly at this truly unexpected situation, and fixing a look of benevolent concern upon your face, stride deeper into Winter's room. Surely the idols had not been pushed to engage in such banal intimacies due to inattention on your part, you declare with worry, had you been so poor a host that you had focused too closely upon the other two members of Aespa? You would gladly assist them in remedying this disgraceful failing on your part... Winter narrows her eyes at Karina, subtly indicating that she should be the spokesperson, and the idol duly burbles out a breathless response, "Oh, um, dear host, not at all! We were merely... practicing! Yes, we were practicing," Karina beams innocently, her polite demeanor unable to hide the obvious flush coloring her cheeks. A single raised eyebrow is all the reply you require to prompt her into continuing, "Of course, you are welcome to observe, as is your right," Winter frowns but nods in agreement; ah, progress.

You pull an armchair in front of the bed, leaning back into it before broadly gesturing for the idols to continue with their... "practice"; and are given a front-row view of Karina and Winter once more shyly kissing one another. You are utterly baffled by their behavior, you knew from first-hand experience that Karina was an absolute menace between the sheets, and from your brief interactions with Winter, you could tell that she was beyond experienced when it came to pleasuring both men, women, and everything in between. Undoubtedly the pair had engaged in wanton acts of debauchery together, idols were renowned for their depraved orgies, so your thoughts once again churned as you attempted to solve this knotty problem... As always, the wisdom of the Ancients comes to your aid, why bother untangling this Gordian mystery, when you could simply sever it? With a radiant smile upon your face, you heave yourself upright and stand proudly in front of the bemused idols, who once more ceased kissing to stare at you, courteously awaiting your words. They barely even blink when you unsheathe your sword, its tip bulbous and oozing from the girl's infuriating teasing; Karina's lips seem to quirk slightly before returning to her demure half-smile.

Usually you would engage in foreplay, exploring your lover's bodies while they probed your own, but after nearly an hour of simply watching, you decided to forego such pleasantries. You order Karina to open her legs, which she does with a disinterested sigh, while Winter huffs in disgust, but the latter's eyes widen when you tell her to start eating Karina out. The members of Aespa glance at each other, before Winter shrugs with exaggerated indifference, and leans down between Karina's fishnetted thighs, moving her tight miniskirt up to reveal Karina's glistening slit before her head obscures it. Winter's rear remains upraised however, her gauzy pink skirts shrouding it in an excess of fabric, and you are quick to lift it up over her hips, revealing the thong beneath. Winter looks back at you for a moment, before rolling her eyes and returning to devouring her friends' pussy; who seems to be rather enjoying herself if the squelching noises coming from her crotch are anything to go by. But now it was your turn, and you are almost trembling as your hands roam Winter's pale rear, her skin pleasantly dimpled by the pink fishnets as you squeeze and spread them. You slap your meat against her exposed lower lips, causing runnels of juices to dampen her thighs, and with barely contained excitement, your manhood tastes the final member of Aespa's pussy for the first time.

Unlike her name, Winter's sex was hot, almost uncomfortably so. It felt as if your member was inside of a heater, one that was enjoyable lubricated to be sure, and that voraciously sucked you inside of it, but still. Not that you minded though as you plow Winter from behind, her stuffy pussy already having you on edge from her extensive show- Fresh wetness gushes down your shaft, the idol shudders in your grasp, evidently she had been pushed to her limits by Karina's chaste kisses as well. With a grunt you push forwards, forcing Winter flat atop Karina, her face shoved between her friend's amble breasts as you start to prone bone the idol. Your cock grinding against her sensitive spot with every thrust, sending fresh quivers through her body as her pussy soaks the skirt pooled beneath her groin. No matter how skillfully your movements however, you found yourself unable to resist the burning heat broiling your manhood, and after several more messy slaps you finally allow yourself to let go. Winter lets out a muffled squeal as your semen pours into her, her feet drumming against the bed as your load fills her pussy. You shake as you collapse down onto her, your strength leaving you as pleasure wracks your form, the pair of you shuddering in sympathy as your twined orgasms leave you breathless. Shivering, you unmount Winter, your erection dragging across her buttocks as you rise back onto your knees, leaving behind a glistening trail that leads back to the creamy mess belching from her vagina.

You lay on your side to catch your breath, as the idols untangle themselves from one another, the both of them leaving behind obvious wet stains on the sheets. But before your seed can add to the damage, Karina determinedly takes her own turn between Winter's thighs, lapping up the sperm before using her tongue to clean even deeper inside of the other idol. If you had thought your own efforts had been adept at bringing Winter to orgasm, Karina swiftly put you to shame as her oral techniques soon have Winter blubbering. The usually composed idol was in paroxysms of agonizing pleasure as she held onto Karina's twintails, her face bright red as she drowns Karina in her fluids, until with a undignified shriek she squirts so hard it sprays past Karina's face and all over the bed. Her chest heaving, Winter pats Karina's cheeks affectionately, "Stupid, Cheese Cat," she gasps, and the pair share a smile. But such an impressive display had stirred your lust once more, and now you wanted to try using Karina's twintails as handlebars! Karina's blowjob skills were, of course, perfect. Even as you used her hair to piston her head up and down your shaft, her tongue still plied its underside while her lips wrapped tightly around it. Karina idly masturbates throughout, no matter how hard you fucked her face her fingers continued stirring at an unbothered pace; if only you could keep her forever...

After allowing Karina to slobber all over your manhood without your assistance for a little while, you decide it is only right that you reward her for her efforts. So once again she spreads her lingerie-sheathed legs, but this time it is you who place yourself between them. Karina had been wet when you had made love the first time in the showers a week ago (with more than just steamy water, obviously), but this time she was literally soaking from Winter's efforts. You suppress a groan as Karina's exquisite pussy welcomes you inside of it once more, her folds squeezing your cock tightly as it swallows every inch of it. With your hands beneath her knees, you push her legs back, allowing you to take her in mating press, her voluptuous body squishing against yours, and with a single violent motion you wrench her top up over her breasts. Karina gasps slightly, but gives you an amused smile in response, "How romantic," she says dryly as her cleavage flattens itself against your chest, your body weight pressing you together. Your thighs slam you down into her again and again, and you nuzzle against her neck as she wraps her arms around you, your conjoined sexes squelching loudly as they slap together. A shudder runs through Karina, and a fresh slurry of fluids sprays against your balls as she climaxes, "Oh you vile..." she moans before purring with ill-disguised satisfaction.

Having brought your partner to orgasm, it was only polite then that you gifted her a reward for her efforts today; seeing the elegant idol dressed so lewdly had aroused you more than you had realized, and it was only proper that you showed your appreciation. You groan as pleasure surges through you, and after several more long, determined thrusts, you creampie Karina. Your seed spews deep inside of her, and the idol quivers as she is bred, her enjoyment at the sensation of being inseminated as obvious as your own joy at doing it to her. When your semen has finished painting the entrance to her womb, she coughs, politely reminding you that you are squishing her. You gently scramble off of her, and Karina simply lays there, her chest heaving in a rather attractive manner (It was a struggle to not mount her bodice then and there), before giving you a somewhat pleased smile, "Well that was nice, I suppose. Are you quite done now, or should we wait on cleaning up?" she asks with an upraised eyebrow. With an exhausted wave you indicate that the idols were free to do as they wish, giving them a nod of approval before tottering towards the exit. You had not even finished closing the door before hearing the noisy sounds of Winter slurping your load out of Karina; they did seem to have great experience in cleaning one another out...

You were thoughtful as you slowly strode back to your own chambers, blissfully unaware of the fact that you were still stark naked; though to be fair, that was hardly an unusual state for you to be in. Karina had put a great deal of trouble into scurrying all around the mansion, it was almost as if she had been trying to catch your attention with such a flashy outfit... Any further musing was put on hold however when you open the door to your room and find Ningning elbow-deep inside of Giselle's sloppy cunt; were all of Aespa carnally interested in each other? Ningning glances back at you without a hint of apology on her face, "Oh good, you're back, we got bored with waiting so we started without you," her eyes narrow as she takes in your unruly appearance, and she sniffs the air before scowling, "You've been fucking Karina again, haven't you? I can smell her loose cunt on your cock," Ningning smirks wickedly as she presents her rear for your pleasure, "Why don't you clean yourself in a real idol, you can even dirty yourself in this slut's holes to truly appreciate the difference..."

You sigh inwardly, this was proving to be a touch more exhausting than you had originally anticipated...

[moonstruckme]

remus one shot where he can’t stop blushing around the reader because he has a huge crush on her and sirius and james are like dude please ask her out already?? 🙈

cw: the trials and tribulations of a restaurant job, semi-confident reader (or at least she can withstand Sirius' flirting, which I couldn't), James and Sirius' shameless wingmanning

shy!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

The cafe is crammed. You’ve almost tripped over two kids already whose parents let them run loose, you did let a glass slip from your tray when a customer stuck his leg out into the walkway without looking, and you’ve quickly reached the conclusion that today was definitely the wrong day to break in your new work shoes. You’re on your last straw at only ten in the morning, but your pasted-on smile becomes twice as genuine when you see a table of your favorite regulars. 

“Hi,” you say warmly, clicking your pen and readying it above your pad. “How are we doing today?” 

You’re greeted with two dazzling grins from one side of the booth and a shyer smile from the other. 

“Y/n,” says Sirius, in his suave, flirtatious way (you’ve learned not to take it personally), “you’re looking stunning.” 

You know your hair is suffering from the weather outside and there’s orange juice down the front of your apron, but you smile at him anyway. “Thank you, so are you.” 

“How’s your morning going?” James asks. These boys are never ones to skip over pleasantries to get to their meal, and while with other tables you might try to hurry them along, you never mind in this case. Today especially, you welcome the break. 

“Oh, it’s going,” you try to joke, looking pointedly down at your orange juice stain. “Could be worse.” 

He makes a face. “Yikes.” 

“It’s fine,” you say breezily. “What can I get you?” 

You look to James, because really he’s the only one you ever need to ask. The other two are fairly consistent, but James seems inclined to try something new every time he comes in. 

He doesn’t disappoint now, locking eyes with you seriously over the top of his menu. “How is your butterfly lemonade? No—actually, what is your butterfly lemonade?”

“It’s…” You bite your lip, thinking. Sirius snickers, and when you look he seems to be sharing in some joke with Remus’, whose cheeks have gone a tad pink. “I’m not sure, honestly, but it’s sweet. I think you’d like it.” 

“That, then.” James slaps down his menu decisively. 

“Right.” You write it down. “And then, a caramel latte and a tea?” You look to Sirius and Remus for confirmation. 

The former shoots you a grin you take as a yes, while the latter nods and says quietly, “Thank you.” 

“No problem.” You soften your smile for Remus. You adore all of these boys, but you have a bit of a tender spot for him. Remus is by far the quietest of his friends, though really just as friendly when he does talk. It’s terribly endearing. 

You click your pen again. “Okay, back soon!” 

The boys’ table remains a bright spot in your morning for as long as they’re there. Their antics you’re rather used to—the flirting, and the pranks, and the teasing way both James and Sirius poke at Remus while his blush worsens and worsens—but it surprises a laugh out of you when you joke that you’ll have to spit in Remus’ food if he orders the brioche (which infamously holds up the kitchen every time) and Sirius snorts doubt he’d mind before yelping and jumping in his seat. By the time you’re bringing them their ticket, the cafe has reached its late morning lull and your day is remarkably brighter than it started off. 

You seem to be interrupting some sort of debate when you approach their table, Remus leaning forward to whisper across the booth before he catches sight of you and sits back. The tops of his cheekbones are tinged pink. Sirius, on the other hand, is grinning wickedly, whereas James looks mostly exasperated. 

“Thank you,” James says kindly, taking the ticket from you. Remus starts rifling through his pockets for cash, but Sirius only looks at you as though sizing you up. 

“Y/n,” he starts to say, ignoring how Remus’ eyes narrow in his direction, “are you seeing anyone at the moment?” 

You feel your eyebrows lift. “Not currently, no.” 

“But why not?” He affects a look of puzzled contemplation, propping his chin on his hand. “You’re a pretty girl. Are you not looking to date?” 

You shrug, fighting the urge to cross your arms defensively. It’s not that you’ve never gotten these sorts of personal questions from customers before, but you weren’t expecting them from this table; you thought you knew better than to take Sirius’ flirting seriously. “Nothing has come up lately, I guess.” 

“Do you fancy men?”

“Sirius,” Remus hisses. “Leave her alone.” 

“What?” Sirius spreads his hands, guileless. “None of us would care if you didn’t, lovely—well, some might care, but no one would hold it against you—” He yelps for the second time today, this time shooting a glare at his friend across the booth. “Anyway, you don’t have to say if you aren’t comfortable.” 

You’re laughing a bit now, half nervously. “No, that’s okay. I do, yeah.” 

“Interesting.” James sets down the ticket. It seems you have his full attention now. “And what do you think of our Remus?” 

Remus makes a horrified sputtering sound, and you turn to find him looking at James in betrayal. He’s pink to the tips of his ears. 

You can’t help a small smile as you catch on. “I think he seems very sweet.” 

“Mm, well spotted.” James nods, tenting his hands like a man at a business meeting. 

“Yes, very good taste,” Sirius agrees. 

“He’s a dateable bloke, no?” James asks you. He jolts in his seat a little, but doesn’t yelp like Sirius had. Remus appears caught between wanting to hide his face in his hands and wanting to burn his friends to cinders with his gaze. He’ll be lucky, you think amusedly, if he doesn’t burn himself up first. The hue of his blush is only getting deeper. 

“He is,” you agree. You look at Remus again. This time, he meets your eyes, his look softening. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says miserably. 

Your grin spreads. “No, don’t be.” 

“So would you like to date him?” James furthers. 

Remus does put his head in his hands now, letting out a muffled groan. “James.” 

“What? Clearly you aren’t going to do it yourself, and I am sick of trying to eat my breakfast whilst you moon over—” He jumps in his seat again, and goes quiet, reaching down to rub at his leg. You tuck your lips in to hide a smile. 

“I’m just going to take this,” you say, reaching for the customer copy of their receipt. You bend over, scrawling your number down on the signature line. “And if anyone has more questions for me later, they can give me a ring. Okay?” 

You look at Remus. He looks nauseous and stop-sign red, but he manages to give you a small smile. “Alright,” he says, tentatively.

“Perfect. Bye, boys.” You shoot them a wave as you go to your next table. You hope Remus sees how your smile is really only for him.

[harrysfolklore]

31st - hs

happy birthday to the one and only love of my life 🥹🥹 31 omg! i hope he has the best day ever <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You woke up early on February 1st, carefully slipping out of bed without disturbing Harry, who was still peacefully sleeping. The morning sun was just beginning to peek through the curtains, reflecting light across his face. At 31, he was somehow even more beautiful than when you'd first met him - a few more laugh lines around his eyes, his curls slightly shorter now, but still undeniably your Harry.

Making your way to the kitchen, you began the birthday breakfast preparations you'd been planning for days. You started brewing his favorite coffee and pulled out the ingredients for the banana pancakes he loved so much.

As you worked, you couldn't help but smile, remembering his 30th birthday last year - the big party, all their friends and family gathered together. This year, though, Harry had asked for something quieter, more intimate. "Just us," he'd said, "maybe dinner with family later."

The sound of footsteps made you look up, and there he was, leaning against the doorframe in his pajama bottoms and that old Rolling Stones t-shirt you loved so much.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," you scolded playfully, whisking the pancake batter.

"Bed was cold without you," he mumbled, voice still rough with sleep. His hair was adorably mussed, and he had pillow creases on his cheek. "Besides, something smells amazing."

"Happy birthday, love," you said softly, abandoning your cooking to wrap your arms around him.

He hummed contentedly, pulling you closer and burying his face in your neck. "Thank you, baby."

"Thirty-one," you mused, running your fingers through his hair. "How does it feel?"

"Honestly?" He pulled back to look at you, his green eyes twinkling. "Pretty much the same as thirty. Though I did find another grey hair yesterday."

You laughed, reaching up to touch the single silver strand at his temple. "I think it makes you look distinguished."

"Distinguished?" He raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"Mhmm," you nodded seriously. "Very sophisticated. Very George Clooney."

"Oi!" He tickled your sides, making you squeal. "I'm not that old yet!"

The pancakes were momentarily forgotten as you both dissolved into laughter, play-fighting in the kitchen like teenagers. Finally, Harry pulled you close again, pressing soft kisses along your jaw.

"You know," he murmured, "this is already my favorite birthday."

"It's barely started!"

"Doesn't matter. I'm here with you, in our kitchen, and you're making me breakfast. What could be better?"

Your heart swelled with love for this man who could find joy in the simplest moments. "Well, it might get even better when you see your presents."

His eyes lit up like a child's. "Presents? But you said we weren't doing big gifts this year!"

"And we're not," you assured him, turning back to the pancakes before they burned. "Just a few small things. Though..." you paused for dramatic effect, "there might be tickets to that vintage guitar show in Nashville you were talking about."

Harry's gasp of delight made you laugh. "Really? The one with the '59 Les Paul?"

"Maybe," you sang, flipping a pancake. "You'll have to wait and see."

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, watching you cook. "Have I told you lately that you're the best wife ever?"

You felt your cheeks flush at the word 'wife,' still not quite used to hearing it spoken aloud. After nearly a year of marriage, it was still your precious secret, shared only with family and closest friends. The ring on your finger was usually hidden away in public, and you'd both become experts at careful wording in interviews.

"Shh," you teased, though your heart fluttered at his words. "The walls might have ears."

Harry chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "You know, I've been thinking about that actually."

"About what?" you asked, sliding the last pancake onto the plate.

He turned you around gently, his expression thoughtful. "About keeping it secret. Don't get me wrong, this past year has been incredible, having something that's just ours. But sometimes..." he paused, running a hand through his hair, "sometimes I just want to tell the whole world that I'm married to the most amazing woman."

You set down the spatula, studying his face. "Really? You want to go public?"

"Only if you're ready," he said quickly. "But yeah, I do. It's been almost a year, and honestly, I'm tired of not being able to call you my wife whenever I want to. Of having to take my ring off for appearances. Of watching you do the same."

Your heart raced at the possibility. "It would change things," you said softly. "The privacy we've had..."

"I know," he nodded, taking your hands in his. "But maybe... maybe it's time. And what better day than my birthday? We could post something simple, just us."

You thought about it for a moment. The past year had been magical, your private bubble of newlywed bliss protected from the public eye. But he was right - there was something exhausting about constantly hiding, about choosing your words so carefully, about slipping your rings off before stepping outside.

"Okay," you finally said, a smile spreading across your face. "Let's do it."

Harry's eyes lit up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug. "But after breakfast! These pancakes are getting cold."

Later, after breakfast and presents, you both sat on the couch, phones in hand. You'd chosen a simple photo from your wedding day - just your hands intertwined, both wearing your rings, nothing too revealing but unmistakably a wedding photo.

"Ready?" he asked, his thumb hovering over the 'post' button.

You took a deep breath, nodding. "Ready."

With a click, your secret was out in the world. You both turned your phones to silent, knowing they would explode with notifications any second.

"How does it feel?" Harry asked, pulling you close.

You twisted your ring, which for the first time wouldn't have to come off when you left the house later. "Liberating," you decided. "Scary, but good scary."

"No more hiding," he agreed, kissing your temple.

"No more hiding," you repeated, then laughed. "Your mum's going to be thrilled. She's been dying to post those wedding photos."

"Oh God," Harry groaned good-naturedly. "She's probably already sharing them as we speak."

You snuggled closer to him, enjoying this quiet moment before the world would inevitably explode with the news. "Happy birthday, H. Sorry I kind of hijacked it with our announcement."

"Are you kidding?" He grinned down at you. "This is the best gift you could have given me. Now everyone knows I'm the luckiest man alive."

"Charmer," you muttered, but you were smiling.

"Your charmer," he corrected, then added with obvious delight, "Your husband."

"My husband," you agreed, loving how it felt to say it out loud, knowing you wouldn't have to whisper it anymore.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by zayn, yourinstagram and 20,876,449 others

harrystyles Best birthday gift was marrying my soulmate almost a year ago. Thank you for keeping our secret. ❤️

February, 2024

view all comments

username1 WHAT THE HELL

username2 IS THIS A JOKE

taylorswift Finally!! 🥂 Keeping this secret was TORTURE. So happy for you both ♥️

gemmastyles Bbout time you two told everyone!! now i can finally post all the cute photos from the wedding 😭💕

lizzo YALL I WAS AT THE WEDDING AND HAD TO PRETEND I WASNT THIS WHOLE TIME 😭 CONGRATS AGAIN BESTIES

niallhoran The most beautiful day! Love you both!

yourinstagram Finally 🤍 Happy birthday to my husband (!!!) who makes every day feel like a love song. Thank you for choosing me, always.

username3 HUSBAND???????? MARRIED????????? IM SHAKING AND CRYING AND THROWING UP

username4 OH MY GOD THE SIGNS WERE THERE ALL ALONG. REMEMBER WHEN HE KEPT TOUCHING HIS RING FINGER IN THAT ONE INTERVIEW??

username5 not me zooming in on every detail of this photo 👀 THE RINGS ARE SO BEAUTIFUL IM SOBBING

username6 the way they kept this secret for a YEAR?? we love a private couple

username7 HARRY STYLES IS A MARRIED MAN. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT. HARRY STYLES IS A MARRIED MAN

username8 im so happy for them but also crying in the club rn 😭

username9 THE WAY YN JUST CALLED HIM HUSBAND IM SCREAMING

username10 not me thinking about how they had a whole secret wedding and we had no idea 😭 they're so powerful

username11 "best birthday gift" STOP IM CRYING THIS IS SO ROMANTIC

[nitadllyss]

Waking Up Next to Your Boyfriend

-Hyung Line x Reader -

Maknae line here

Genre: Fluff, Headcanon (too sweet)

Warnings: None

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Bangchan:

• He has trouble sleeping, so when he finally does, he’s completely out. A sleepy koala .

• He’s always the big spoon.

• He unconsciously throws a leg over you and pulls you close with his arm whenever you move.

• When you check the time, you turn off anything that might make noise and go back to sleep, hoping he takes his time waking up so he can rest.

• Considering you woke up with Chan's fluffy hair and his pajama is basically no pajama, it's totally understandable that you didn't want it to end.

• When he finally opens his eyes and sees the time, he flinches a little. It’s late (well, actually, it’s early, but Mr. Workaholic doesn’t see it that way).

• But when he sees you, his heart skips a beat. You look so comfortable next to him.

• He doesn’t resist (not that he even tries) and showers your neck and jaw with kisses, whispering a deep, raspy "Good morning."

• You’re so asleep you barely understand what he’s saying. It’s honestly way too early for your brain to function properly.

• You manage to kiss his cheek just as he’s getting up to leave for work :(( .

• You know he’ll make it up to you with all the cuddles when he comes back.

• In the meantime, you bury your nose in the spot he left on the bed, inhaling that Chan scent.

---

Lee Know:

• At this point, the bed feels way too small.

• Minho is lying down, and you’re lying on top of him, your head resting on his chest. His arms wrap around your back and waist, his chin resting on your head. You’re practically fused together.

• Soongie is curled up on your back, purring contentedly.

• Doongie is sprawled out at Minho’s feet, belly up, deep asleep.

• Meanwhile, Dori is wide awake, tail flicking as he plots his next move. Suddenly, he pounces—straight onto your head—trying to catch Minho’s nose, waking both of you up in shock.

• You laugh in confusion while Minho just lazily drapes an arm over Dori, trying to keep him still, then drifts back to sleep.

• When you finally grab your phone to check the time, you’re surprised by how late it is and try to get up. But before you can leave the bed, Minho grabs your arm and pulls you back in.

"Just a little longer," he mumbles without even opening his eyes.

"Babe, I have to make breakfast," you say, completely mesmerized by how soft and relaxed his profile looks.

"If you stay five more minutes, I’ll help you make it," he says with a lazy smile. He knows he’s won—who would say no to a breakfast made by him?

• Those five minutes turn into a sleepy make-out session. You kiss his nose, jaw, forehead, chin, cheeks, the corners of his lips—before finally pressing small kisses on his lips.

• When his children (the cats) start getting fussy because they also want breakfast, you both have no choice but to get up.

• In the end, he ends up making the whole breakfast while you feed the cats.

---

Changbin:

• He’s a soft, fluffy ball of curls—the cutest and coziest thing you’ll ever see.

• He’s asleep on your chest, his hand resting against your ribs, securing his spot.

• He won’t say it, but he loves sleeping like this because the sound of your heartbeat soothes him. It’s his favorite lullaby.

• Your hand never stops running through his hair. If you stop, he’ll probably let out a grumpy little growl in protest.

• When it’s time to wake up, he clings to you even tighter, mumbling in a pouty tone, "Just a little longer..."

• He doesn’t give you a choice. Every time you try to move, he buries his face deeper into your chest and tightens his grip around your side.

• After a while, your hand drifts down to his face, replacing the hair-stroking with soft caresses on his cheeks. You’re definitely trying to get something.

• "Binnie, baby . We have to get up for breakfast," you whisper sweetly.

• He lets out another grumpy groan, and just as he’s about to complain, his stomach growls in sync.

• Maybe breakfast doesn’t sound like such a bad idea after all...

---

Hyunjin:

• He’s a mess.

• He���s completely sprawled out—one arm stretched above his head, the other tangled in your hair. His wrist is probably numb by now.

• One knee is bent in one direction, the other leg is draped over yours.

• He sleeps with his mouth slightly open and changes position every ten minutes.

• First, he turns and clings to you like a koala. Then he buries his face in your neck. Then he rolls over and gives you his back. But he misses you, so he wraps himself around you again.

• He’s a beautiful disaster.

• When he cracks one eye open to check the time, he realizes it’s late but just shuts his phone off and decides to go back to sleep. (He’s not lazy, he’s just way too comfortable.)

• Before drifting off again, he stares at you, completely captivated—memorizing every detail, every little movement you make in your sleep. He’s definitely going to draw you later.

• But his intense gaze wakes you up.

• His eyes widen, and he immediately whines, "No, no, no. Go back to sleep. We’re still sleeping."

• Like a spoiled kid, he pouts, pushing his bottom lip out. When you insist it’s late, he sulks even more.

"You just want to go to work because you don’t want to stay with me. You’re heartless."

• In the end, the drama queen makes an appearance, as always.

• Somehow, you manage to wiggle out of his hold.

• When you return with his iced coffee and he sees you getting ready for your shower, reality finally hits him.

• Grumpily, he drags himself out of bed, accepting that responsibilities exist.

---------------------------------------

This is my first Headcanon! I hope I did it right.💗

English is not my first language, so let me know if you spot any mistakes 🙏🏻.

[steddieprompts]

part 2 of this thing

The rest of the night the two sat on the couch, ate icecream and watched shitty comedy movies. Steve finally got Eddie to watch Major League and Eddie had to admit it was his favorite sports movie so far.

Eddie fell asleep on the couch as usual and Steve covered him with a blanket before heading to his room for the night.

They didn't talk about the situation with Tommy after that night. In all honestly Steve was happy to see the back of it as well as Tommy himself. Seeing him again was such a violent flashback to the person he was before... he didn't like thinking about it. He hoped Tommy loved New York so much he never stepped foot in Indiana again.

Of course Steve could never be that lucky.

It was a Monday night and the apartment was sweltering.

"I thought Daryl said he fixed the AC?" Steve said, fiddling with the knobs on the unit.

"Daryl says alot of things" Eddie's voice echoed from where his head was stuck in the freezer.

"Let's just go to the movies. At least their AC works," Steve grumbled.

Eddie pulled his head out of the freezer. "I'm in." He agreed and grabbed his wallet off the counter as he followed Steve out of the apartment... before shoving the handful of icecubes he snuck out of the freezer down the back or Steve's tucked in polo. His screech was so loud old lady Laski stuck her head out of her apartment to yell at them.

"Sorry, Muriel!" Eddie said through his cackling before they shoved their way out of the building.

Inside the theater the air was crisp and cool.

"Genius, Stevie," Eddie said, flipping his hair over the back of the seat and sliding down until his ass was almost off the seat. "I gotta pee," he announced and immediately stood back up. Jesus Christ he heard Steve mutter. "You want popcorn?"

"Nah. I'm good." Steve hummed as he closed his eyes.

After the bathroom, Eddie went to the concession stand and got himself a popcorn (large, because he knew Steve would steal some) and Steve a Sprite with extra ice.

When he turned away from the counter he nearly dropped it though. Across the room, just coming in the door, was Hagan.

Why was he still here? Shouldn't he be back in New York by now?

Eddie decided to ignore him... and the other guy he was with, some jock type Eddie faintly recognized from high school. He headed back towards the theater doors, but he wasn't as inconspicuous as he hoped.

Before he could get into the theater, Tommy sidled in front of the door.

"Well look who it is," Tommy smirked at him. "Out without your little body guard?"

"Body guard? Who, Steve?"

"I know he was lying to protect you. I can't figure out why." Tommy said, taking a threatening step toward Eddie.

He had about enough of this.

Eddie mirrored Tommy, taking a step forward and getting obnoxiously close to his face.

"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy," Eddie said his name like he felt so so bad for him, "Steve, the love of my life, is right in there." He tilted his head towards the door, "And believe me, he wasn't protecting me the other night, he was protecting you."

Eddie stared him down for a second before suddenly sticking out his tongue and making a guttural hiss. Tommy startled and jerked back into his jock friend. "Enjoy your film... and try not to think about what's in the dark." Eddie said sweetly before slipping into the theater, but not without hearing Tommy mutter "Freak" as the door closed.

Eddie hustled back to their seats, nearly spilling half the popcorn on the way.

"Steve!" He whisper yelled as he came down the row. He didn't really need to whisper, though, as the only other people in the theater were a couple teenagers in the back. "Steve!" He said again as he plopped down in his seat.

"What? Is that for me?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got you a Sprite, Tommy is here." Eddie said all in one breath. Steve nearly choked on the sip he took. "And I might have talked to him."

"Eddie..."

"And I might have lead him to believe that I cursed him or something. Hissed in his face."

"Wha... why?"

"He called you my body guard. Oh, and you're the love of my life now."

"Body gu... wait. awww you love me??" Steve said, sickly sweet and batting his eyelashes.

"Madly, darling," Eddie replied in his worst trans-atlantic accent. Steve chuckled.

"He seriously said I was your body guard?"

"Yeah he thinks we're pretending."

"Well fuck him."

"That's what I say," Eddie grumbled. He didn't like being called a liar even when he was one.

At the back of the theater the door opened and Steve peaked behind him through the seats and low and behold... Tommy Hagan.

"It's him," Steve grumbled.

"Huh?" Eddie asked, distracted by the movie previews.

"Tommy." He turned to Eddie. "You haven't suddenly developed boundaries in the last five minutes have you?"

"No, why?"

Steve surged forward, pressing his lips to Eddie's and cupping his jaw. Eddie made a surprised noise before pressing back, his hand finding Steve's waist, fisting his shirt.

After a few seconds Steve pulled back, meaning to look over at Tommy to cement the deal, but he got... distracted, watching Eddie's eyes flutter open, seeing how they danced over Steve's face as he processed.

"I see what the big deal is now," He finally said. Steve let out a soft chuckle, still enraptured by Eddie... and wasn't that a thought.

Eddie looked over Steve's shoulder, picking Tommy out in the dark, the light of the screen highlighting him. Slowly Eddie wiggled his fingers at him in a little wave.

Steve finally looked back at him, just in time for Tommy to storm out of the theater, his new cronie following behind.

"Wow," Eddie mused, "That worked surprisingly well." Eddie looked back at Steve, "You think he's jealous?"

"Dude!" Steve whined before sliding down in his seat.

"Think Tommy wants a little King action?"

"If you don't stop, I'm leaving you here and you can walk home."

Eddie cackled, settling down as the movie started.

But Steve couldn't concentrate. Kissing Eddie was... nice. To be fair, Steve hadn't been with anyone in a while but... that wasn't entirely the reason. He felt something he hadn't felt in a while. As cliche as it sounded... he felt a spark.

Maybe Eddie had felt it too.

The movie went by too fast but when they stepped back outside the sun had set and the heat had dissipated. Tommy was no where to be found.

As they drove home, Eddie was strangely reserved. They talked about the movie, about going to work in the morning, but the conversation didn't take any wild turns like they usually did. Steve didn't even have to scold Eddie for sitting sideways in the seat.

When they got back into the apartment Eddie didn't flop down on the couch or root around in the fridge, just said he was gonna head to bed before going into his room. Steve looked at the clock. It was only 8:30.

He tried to ignore it, but he couldn't. He brushed his teeth, changed his clothes, sat down and turned on the TV, but he couldn't ignore how strange it was. And it wasn't hard to guess why.

He shook out his shoulders before he knocked on Eddie's door.

"Yeah?" Eddie called from inside, Steve could here him quietly picking at his guitar.

"Can we talk? Please?"

The guitar stopped and Eddie opened the door, already in the ratty black Sabath shirt he usually slept in.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry... but I'm not."

"About what?"

"Kissing you like that. I should have... given you more warning."

"It's alright, Steve, I'm not mad."

"Maybe not, but something is wrong."

"It's fine, Steve, don't worry about it."

"No," Steve's hand shot out as Eddie tried to close his door. "I'm sorry, Eddie. I just... Please just talk to me, okay?" His hand dropped from the door, but caught Eddie's fingers on the way. He tangled them together before asking softly, "please?"

Eddie looked at their hands before saying "What is this?" He looked up at Steve taking a steadying breath, but it barely got rid of the tightness, the wobble. "What...?"

"Eddie, I know how this started but I can help but feel maybe... I dont know. I think there's something. Maybe we've been ignoring it."

"Are you fucking with me, Steve? Because I can't..." Eddie hated how his throat was closing up with fear, with hope.

"I'm not, I promise you," Steve stepped forward, tightening his grip on Eddie's hand, "I've never felt so at home with someone, so happy, and kissing you... Eddie. I can't let this go unless you tell me to."

Eddie swallowed, swallowed again, until he got enough courage to lean forward, softly, gently, and pressed his lips to Steve's for the second time that night.

The kiss was soft and gentle until he felt Steve smile against his lips and he couldn't hold back. He felt himself laugh as he pressed forward, Steve pulling him back until they hit the wall across the hall, laughing when it took Steve by surprise. They broke apart, Steve peppering kisses up Eddie's cheek to his temple.

"You uh," Steve said through a smile, "You want to go out sometime?"

Eddie threw his head back as his happiness and relief burst out of him in a laugh. "Yeah, sweetheart," Eddie smiled at him. "Let's go out."

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ SEUNGHYUN (T.O.P) AS YOUR HUSBAND

୨ৎ pairing: husband!seunghyun x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! with mild sex talk

୨ৎ from myeong: hi!!! super duper excited to take this request since he’s been my love since I was a very young girl! have always looked up to him and I’m so happy to be writing for him!! and he’s back?! wooo!! please enjoy this! x

he’s going to be a very caring, attentive, and thoughtful husband. I don’t care what anyone else says about him, he’s going to be the bestest husband and do all that he can to make you happy.

is he perfect? nope. not even close to it and no one is perfect but what he does is try and he shows you that he cares and cares enough to work hard to keep the relationship as healthy as it can be.

sometimes isn’t clingy because he wants you to be the one to break first. he definitely enjoys watching you run to him for a hug, kiss, or something else.

shy!!!! he’s not shy all the time and likes to be the dominant one in the relationship of course and in a very non toxic way but when he does feel shy it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen a man do.

“what? you think this suit looks good on me? oh.. it’s what they told me to wear and honestly I wasn’t sure if it was too much.. but since you like it—”

he won’t finish because he’s looking down at the ground cheeks slightly pink from feeling a bit shy and embarrassed by how you keep staring at him and complimenting him. sounds weird for him hm? well! you’re just that special girl to him. I mean come on he married you!! he’s a different man now.

is very overly protective over you. will do all that he can to protect you and your relationship. since you are now a married couple he takes it to another level of wanting you and him protected as a couple.

“would you like to try this new dish with me? I can make it! or.. maybe.. we can cook it together?”

please cook with him because he secretly loves it and falls more in love with you watching how you cut up vegetables and the look on your pretty face when you’re concentrated and working. so cute

seunghyun is very obsessed with morning sex especially now as a married couple he just feels it’s needed and if you both don’t have time in the morning then expect before bedtime sex.

he loves trying new things with you. when he first brought up pulling hair.. it wasn’t yours. it was his. you pulled on his soft black locks and he felt this spark inside of him that he’s never felt before.

if it was a long night of sex he purposely gets up before you and makes you breakfast but not in bed since he’ll kindly drag you out of bed and have you sit at the table with him but you always end up sitting in his lap which he enjoys more of course.

“you’re such a pretty girl did you know that?”

“I.. love you a lot. thank you for loving me despite everything that I’ve been through. thank you.”

he’s a cautious husband and never wants you to feel hurt or anything close to that. he’ll do all that he can to make sure you’re happy, comfortable, and safe. he’s careful with his words especially when you two get into small arguments. he’s learned from the past on what not to do.

seunghyun is very emotional and he’s not afraid to show that with you. when he was younger it was a different story but he’s older now and has been through things that has shown him it’s okay to show such emotions. he trusts you as his wife and always cries in your arms if he desperately needs it.

expect movie nights with him!! which end in not watching the movie at all and just talking to each other about the weirdest topics or space of course.

will take so many pictures of you posing next to the moon specially the full moon since it’s his favorite! he finds it beautiful just like you. cries

nights in are his favorite but if you want to go out then he’ll do that for you. he’ll enjoy going on walks with you while eating ice cream his most favorite sweets. his free hand will hold yours tightly.

craves you in every way possible. he’ll need to kiss you often and stroke your hair or pull you closer to him and his larger frame. he enjoys how much shorter you are and constantly brings it up.

[daeniradraconis]

Age Is Just a Number…Right? - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke. Age gap. Jack being a menace as usual, making sure you're not getting away that easy. Warning: Implied sexual situations, mature language, flirtation, age gap (6 years)

Note: Hey, lovelies! So, originally, this fic was all about Macklin Celebrini and Will Smith, but then I realized—Will is 19, and honestly, he’s just a baby to me. Even if he said he loves older woman. Boy go back to kinder garden. (Sorry Will, love you, I promise!) So, I decided to swap in the Hughes boys instead. I’ve gotta be honest, it gave me a bit of a headache. Now, this started as a quick, short fic. I swear, I had every intention of keeping it short. But, well… 7048 words later, here we are. I got hit with a ton of ideas and feelings, and the story just kind of... grew on me. You’ll probably notice the tone/style shifts halfway through, and I’m definitely sorry for that!

But hey, I hope you all enjoy it despite the wild ride! ❤️ For more fun: masterlist

The first thing you notice is warmth.

A heavy arm draped over your waist. The steady rise and fall of breath against the back of your neck. The scent of clean laundry, cologne, and something distinctly him clinging to the pillow beside you.

The second thing you notice—you are not in your own bed.

Your stomach flips as your brain reboots, sluggishly piecing together fragments of last night.

The blind date.

Luke.

His charming smile. The way his chestnut curls fell into his eyes when he laughed. The way he leaned in when you spoke, like you were the only person in the room. The teasing brush of his fingers against yours when he reached for his drink. The electricity that crackled between you when you finally caved—when he kissed you outside the bar, his hands firm at your waist, his body pressing into yours like he couldn’t help himself.

And then… more.

Your face burns as memory after memory floods in. His hands, his mouth, the way he whispered your name like it meant something.

Nope. Not thinking about that.

Carefully, you shift beneath the covers, untangling yourself from his hold. Luke stirs but doesn’t wake, his arm slipping away as you ease yourself upright.

That’s when it really hits you.

He looks so young.

His chestnut curls are a mess, his lips slightly parted, his entire face softened in sleep. He looks… peaceful. Innocent, almost.

A strange unease settles in your stomach.

Your gaze flickers around the unfamiliar room. It’s nice but lived-in—hockey gear shoved into the corner, a few discarded clothes on a chair. Your eyes land on the nightstand, where his wallet sits slightly open.

You don’t mean to snoop. You really don’t.

But something about last night nags at you.

Just a quick peek. Just to make sure.

Fingers trembling, you reach for it, flip it open.

And your heart stops.

Luke Hughes. Age: 21.

Twenty fucking one.

As in, young enough to still pull all-nighters for fun. As in, could still be in college.

And you? You are twenty-seven.

Oh. My. God.

Your hands fly to your phone as you furiously type out a message to your friend.

"WHAT THE HELL?! YOU SET ME UP WITH A 21-YEAR-OLD. I AM A GROWN WOMAN. I PAY FOR MY OWN HEALTH INSURANCE."

No response.

Coward.

Panic thrums in your veins as you stare at Luke—still peacefully asleep, completely unaware that you are having a full-blown identity crisis in his bed.

You need to leave. Now.

Right?

But for some reason, you hesitate.

Because Luke… Luke is the first guy in a long time who actually made you interested. Who made you laugh so hard you snorted into your drink. Who listened—really listened—when you talked, instead of just waiting for his turn to speak. And, well. The man or more like a boy, had managed to get you to orgasm. Twice!

Which, considering your track record, felt almost miraculous.

Your past partners had barely managed to get you there once—if at all.

And now you’re just supposed to sneak out of here like it never happened? Like he was just another bad decision?

Your stomach twists.

But then you glance at the wallet again. Twenty-one.

Yeah. You need to go.

Sliding out of bed as silently as possible, you scan the room for your clothes. Your shirt is on the floor, your jeans halfway under the bed. You grab them quickly, yanking them on with the precision of someone defusing a bomb. Bra? Found. Socks? One is missing, but you’ll live.

Once fully dressed, you tiptoe to the door. Your shoes. They’re outside the room. You remember kicking them off in the hallway.

One deep breath.

You ease the door open, peeking into the dimly lit living room.

Empty.

Good.

You take two careful steps out, eyes locked on your shoes near the front door. Almost there. Just a few more—

“Busted.”

You scream.

Not a blood-curdling horror movie scream, but a very real, very startled yelp that absolutely does not help you maintain any dignity in this situation.

Your body jolts like you’ve just been electrocuted, arms flailing wildly as you spin toward the voice.

There, sprawled across the couch, is a guy watching you like this is the best morning of his life.

Tall. Ridiculously handsome. Light brown hair, messy in a way that suggests he just woke up. Sharp cheekbones. Blue eyes filled with pure mischief.

And a smirk so unbearably smug that you immediately want to punch it off his face.

You clutch your chest, heart racing. “Jesus Christ, who the hell are you?!”

The guy grins wider. “Damn. Didn’t even recognize me? That hurts.”

“Am I supposed to?”You blink, still catching your breath.

His smirk falters for half a second before returning full force. “Oh, that’s good. That’s really good.” He tilts his head, studying you like you’re some kind of rare specimen. “You actually have no idea who I am, do you?”

“Why the hell would I?” Your frown deepens.

He lets out a dramatic sigh, like this is somehow the greatest tragedy to ever befall him.

“You’re telling me,” he starts, sitting up slightly, resting his arms on his knees, fully entertained, “that you came home with my brother, slept with him, and have no idea who we are?”

Your stomach drops.

Brother?

You knew Luke had brothers—he mentioned it—but you had no idea they were famous.

Your eyes flick toward the bedroom, then back to him. “You’re—wait, you’re one of Luke’s brothers?”

He snorts. “Wow. No recognition at all. That is humbling.”

“Should I recognize you?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugs, mock-offended, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I guess I’m only one of the most famous people in this city.”

You blink, a little thrown off. “…You’re a local weatherman?”

He chokes, eyes widening. “A what?!”

“You’re acting like I should know you,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t keep up with the news, but you definitely have the vibe of a guy who points at maps for a living.”

He definitely doesn’t. If anything, he looks more like a kooky stripper with an annoyingly fit body. But there’s no way you’re feeding his ego—this idiot would probably take it as a compliment.

For a split second, he just stares at you, his mouth hanging slightly open.

Then, as if the tension snaps, he howls—full-body laughter, throwing his head back and wiping a fake tear from his eye.

“Oh my God,” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You cross your arms, trying to mask the irritation bubbling up. “Glad I could contribute to your morning entertainment.”

“No, you don’t get it,” he says between gasps for air, leaning forward with an infectious grin. “This is amazing. Incredible. I live for moments like this.”

You raise an eyebrow, your patience wearing thin. “Moments like what?” you snap, unable to hide the rising edge in your voice. Honestly, you’re just relieved Luke didn’t inherit Jack’s over-the-top, obnoxious personality. If he had, you probably would’ve bailed on this blind date five minutes in.

“Moments where I get to witness something so spectacularly awkward, so painfully embarrassing, that it will sustain me for weeks.”

You glare at him with pure annoyance. “I hate you already.”

He clutches his chest dramatically. “Ouch. That wounds me.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Oh, no doubt.” He smirks, and for a moment, it almost reminds you of Luke—though the two brothers couldn’t look more different. But that same confidante smile? It’s unmistakable. “Especially since I now have the upper hand in every conversation we ever have from here on out.”

“We’re never having another conversation after this!” You try to sound firm, but your voice cracks, betraying you.

He just grins wider, shaking his head like he’s heard that before. “That’s what you think.”

You exhale sharply, fed up with the entire exchange. “Look, I’m leaving. Forget you ever saw me.”

“Not a chance.” He leans back against the couch, thoroughly amused. “You’re trying to sneak out of my baby brother’s room like a damn criminal. This is gold.”

You scowl again. “I’m not sneaking out.” You fumble with your shoes, trying to get them on while defending yourself. Luckily, the hallway and living room are one open space, making your escape a bit less awkward.

“You literally just tiptoed past me like you’re starring in Mission Impossible.”

You groan. "I was trying not to wake him up." Rolling your eyes, you keep wrestling with your damn laces—of all times to betray you, it had to be now. Frustration bubbles up as you huff, "I need to go."

Jack cocks an eyebrow. "Why?"

You freeze mid-motion, exhaling hard through your nose. "...Just because."

"That's not an answer." His arms fold across his chest, his gaze pressing into you like he’s daring you to crack.

Your stomach twists. Heat rises to your face. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to give him the satisfaction—but the words rip out anyway.

“Because I just found out I slept with a 21-year-old, okay?! I’m 27. That’s a six-year difference! That’s a whole presidential term and a little extra! That’s a—”

You stop, realizing how ridiculous it sounds now that you're saying it.

Jack stares at you, blinking. There’s a long silence before you speak again, but his expression shows no understanding of the mental chaos you’re in.

You sigh and tug at your hair in frustration. “I wasn’t expecting this. I thought maybe he was older, and now… I just don’t know how to feel.”

Jack, for the first time, softens his teasing expression. But it’s clear he doesn’t quite get what you’re saying.

“Well,” he shrugs casually, “you’re still not leaving. You’re stuck here until Luke wakes up.”

“No, I’m not.” You shake your head, stubborn.

“Yes, you are!”

Before you can argue, you hear movement from the bedroom.

“Jack, why are you yelling?”

Shit.

You freeze.

Jack just grins wider.

You turn, and there he is—Luke, standing in the hallway, shirtless, hair an absolute mess, looking at you with adorable confusion.

Jack smirks. “Oh, you know. Just chatting with your date about how she was totally about to dip.”

“Wait. You’re leaving?” Luke’s voice is a mix of confusion and hurt, and suddenly, you feel a wave of guilt wash over you.

You shift awkwardly, caught in the middle of it all. “I just… didn’t want to wake you.”

Jack snickers. “Translation: she found out you’re barely legal and panicked.”

Luke’s eyes flick to his nightstand, where his wallet still sits open.

“…Wait. Is this about my age?" He sounds confused—adorably so. Too adorably.

You open your mouth, but Jack is already cackling.

“Oh, it absolutely is,” Jack says, shaking his head. “She took one look at that ID and nearly had a full-blown existential crisis.”

Your face flushes deep red. Jesus, you really can’t stand that blue-eyed bastard.

Luke blinks, then sighs, clearly frustrated a little bit. “So, last night was… amazing, but now it’s a problem because I’m 21?”

You shift uneasily. “It’s not a problem, exactly. It’s just…”

Jack grins mischievously. “Hilarious?”

You glare at him, a mix of embarrassment and irritation burning through you. “Not the word I was going for.”

Luke tilts his head, watching you closely. “Did it feel weird last night?”

Your face instantly flames. “LUKE.”

Jack cackles. “Ohhh my God, this is so good.”

Luke shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m just saying. You didn’t seem to mind my age when you were begging for—”

You lunge at him, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

Jack, leaning in with barely contained joy, grins wider. “Oh, no, let’s hear it! This is the best! I live for this shit.”

You whip around, shooting daggers. “Do you really have to be here?”

Jack places a hand over his chest, feigning innocence. "Of course I do. I’m just the clueless bystander, watching your meltdown. It’s my duty as a brother. How else am I supposed to tease Lukey later?"

Luke licks his lips, glancing between you and Jack. “Wait… so you’re really freaking out over this?”

You sigh, your frustration starting to boil over. "I just… didn’t realize you were so young."

Jack snickers from the side, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, no, I think she’s just overthinking it. But hey, it’s cute.”

Luke shoots him a glare. “Jack.”

Jack raises his hands, completely unbothered. “I’m just here to state the obvious.”

You groan, feeling a headache start to form at the base of your skull. "Can I just… go? Please?" The words come out sharper than you mean, but you’re too tired to care.

Luke looks at you, his gaze softening with that same sleepy affection from last night. You almost hate how it makes your chest ache. "You really want to leave?"

You pause for a long moment, considering.

And truthfully?

No.

You don’t.

Last night wasn’t just a fling—it was Luke.

Luke, who had you laughing through dinner, making you feel like you were the only person in the world. He treated you like you were someone worth admiring, someone worth cherishing. And when he kissed you, it felt like the first rainstorm after a drought, washing away everything but the two of you.

And now he’s standing there, messy-haired and sleepy-eyed, looking at you like he’s trying to figure out what’s going through your mind.

Jack, sensing the shift, leans back dramatically. “Ohhh, she’s thinking about it.”

You glare. “Shut up, Jack.”

Jack smirks like a little kid in the candy shop. “Nope.”

Luke lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his face with both hands, his puppy like eyes softening as he looks at you. "Alright," he mutters, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Let me make you breakfast before you decide I’m too young to function."

Jack perks up from the couch. “Oh, hell yeah. Stay. Luke makes a mean omelet.”

Luke shoots Jack a teasing glare, his eyes rolling in exasperation as he half-smirks. "Why are you even involved in this?" he says, clearly annoyed but with a playful edge, like he can’t decide if he should laugh or strangle his brother.

Jack shrugs dramatically. “Because I live for chaos.”

You hesitate for a moment, staring at Luke as you battle the urge to stay or run.

“…Fine. One omelet.”

Jack fist-pumps the air. “YES.”

Luke grins like he’s already won. “Good. Because I was going to make you stay anyway.”

—

You don’t know how you ended up here.

One second, you were committed to sneaking out like a thief in the night. The next?

You’re standing in Luke Hughes’ kitchen, watching him move around with annoying ease, pulling eggs and cheese out of the fridge like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Jack, of course, is sitting at the kitchen island, grinning like the mischievous idiot he is.

“You look tense,” he observes, propping his chin in his hand and resting his elbows on his knees. “Regretting staying already?”

You shoot him a withering look. “I regret a lot of things. Letting you talk this morning is at the top of the list.”

Jack gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “Ouch. And here I was, being such a warm and welcoming host.”

You roll your eyes. “You ambushed me.”

Jack shrugs casually, sipping his coffee. “Semantics.”

Luke, bless him, doesn’t engage. He simply smirks to himself as he cracks an egg into a pan, clearly used to Jack’s shenanigans. “Jack, are you actually gonna eat, or are you just here to be annoying?”

“Oh, I ate already. I’m just here for the show.”

You narrow your eyes at him, a smirk playing at the corner of your mouth. “Seriously, what’s your deal? You get some kind of thrill out of torturing me?”

He’s an asshole, but damn, he’s the kind of asshole that almost makes you laugh.

Jack flashes a devilish grin, clearly enjoying the chaos he's creating. "You're sharp. I like that. Smart women are way more fun to mess with." He leans back, arms crossed, his eyes twinkling with mischief as if he's already plotting his next move.

Luke huffs a laugh, the sound full of fond exasperation. He rolls his eyes, his messy hair falling into his face as he nudges Jack with his shoulder. “Just ignore him. He thrives on being a menace,” he says, shaking his head, but you can tell he's not actually mad.

Jack grins even wider, clearly proud of himself. “Yep. It’s what I do best,” he says, puffing out his chest like he’s just announced some kind of grand achievement.

You rest your elbows on the table, watching as Luke flips an omelet with impressive skill. “Okay, I’ll bite—how did you get so good at this?”

“Gotta learn some life skills when you live with Jack. Otherwise, you starve." He shoots his brother a pointed look, one that’s half annoyance, half fondness.

Jack scoffs, dramatically pressing a hand to his chest like he’s been wronged. "That’s unfair. I provide entertainment." His voice is teasing, but there’s a clear twinkle in his eye.

Luke snorts, barely stifling a laugh. "Entertainment doesn’t make up for the fact that you once tried to microwave a frozen pizza."

Your head snaps up at that, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. "I’m sorry, what?"

Jack groans, cheeks flushing with a rare hint of embarrassment. "It was one time, and the oven took too long!" he mutters defensively, but you can see the red creeping up his neck.

Luke smirks, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he gestures vaguely toward the stove. "You almost burned the apartment down," he points out, no trace of sympathy in his voice.

Jack waves a dismissive hand. "That’s an exaggeration," he says, clearly attempting to downplay the incident, but his voice betrays the tiniest hint of guilt.

Luke shoots you a sly look, his eyes dancing with amusement as he leans in, like he’s about to let you in on a secret. “The microwave was smoking,” he adds, his voice dropping low, the tone almost playful—like he’s about to drop some juicy gossip.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "Oh my God."

Luke, clearly pleased with the chaos he’s caused, gestures at Jack with the spatula like he’s just won some kind of victory. "See? This is why I learned how to cook."

Jack grins wide, unbothered. "And I get to reap the benefits, so really, we both win," he says with a cheeky shrug, as if his utter lack of skill somehow balances out Luke’s culinary expertise.

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "I don’t know how you put up with him."

Luke smirks,"It’s a daily struggle," he says, voice deadpan, but the small curve of his lips gives away the amusement he’s trying to hide.

Jack grins, shaking his head slightly. “Oh, the betrayal. I’m crushed,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, though the smirk gives him away.

Luke just rolls his eyes and slides the finished omelet onto a plate before setting it down in front of you.

You look down at it, genuinely impressed by how perfect it looks. Then, you glance back at Luke, a little taken aback. "Not gonna lie… this looks really good."

Luke’s grin widens, his eyes briefly locking with yours, the kind of connection that makes the moment feel charged. "Told you."

You pick up your fork, still a little skeptical, and take a bite. Holy hell.

Your eyes go wide in surprise. "Oh my God. This is actually amazing."

Jack leans in, looking smug...again. "See? I wasn’t lying." He gives you a little wink, clearly basking in the moment like he’s somehow been proven right.

Luke smirks, pleased by the compliment. “I take my breakfast very seriously.”

“Clearly. This might be the best decision I’ve made today.” You shake your head, chewing.

Jack gasps dramatically. “Wow. So staying was a better decision than leaving?”

You pause, realizing what you just admitted.

Jack grins like he’s just scored a win, and for a second, you seriously consider wiping that smug look off his face.

Luke’s smile, however, is filled with pure happiness, as if this moment is exactly what he’s been waiting for.

You sigh, stabbing your omelet. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”

Jack beams. “Absolutely not.”

Luke leans closer, his voice suddenly lower, more intimate. “I mean, I’m glad you stayed. It’s not every day I get a pretty girl in my kitchen, making my morning way more interesting.”

You freeze, fork halfway to your mouth. His words hang in the air, electric.

“Oh, so now I’m ‘pretty,’ huh?” you tease, trying to maintain your composure, though your heart skips a beat.

Luke raises an eyebrow, a slow, confident smile curling on his lips. “Oh, I thought that was obvious.” His gaze flickers down to your lips, his voice dropping even lower. “You’ve been keeping me on my toes since I woke up.”

Your cheeks warm, but you force yourself to look away, focusing on your omelet. “Flattery won’t make me forget about you being 21.”

Luke’s grin widens, and he leans in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough that only you can hear. “Maybe not. But I think it’s a pretty good start.”

Jack, completely oblivious to the flirtation unfolding right under his nose, leans back on the kitchen island with a self-satisfied grin. “God, I can’t believe I’m witnessing this. I thought I was supposed to be the one who charmed the ladies.”

Luke snorts, rolling his eyes at his brother but keeping his focus on you. “Jack’s the type to talk about it. I’m the type to show it.”

Your breath catches in your throat. That was smooth. Really smooth.

You take another bite of your omelet, trying to hide the smile spreading across your face. “You sure you don’t just want me to stay for the food?”

Luke leans back, his gaze softening as he gently takes your left hand in his, his thumb slowly tracing circles over your knuckles. “I mean… if that’s your only reason for sticking around, I won’t complain,” he murmurs, a playful yet tender smile curving his lips. “But I like to think I’ve got more to offer than just my cooking skills.”

His words, along with the warmth in his eyes, wash over you like a wave, pulling you in deeper. You lock eyes with him, your breath catching as your pulse quickens. There’s something in the way he’s looking at you, something that makes it impossible to think straight.

Then Jack clears his throat loudly, and you break the spell, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Alright, alright,” Jack says, clearly enjoying the discomfort he’s just caused. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone so you can finish your breakfast in peace. No need to make me a third wheel.”

You roll your eyes, but Luke doesn’t seem to mind. He just shrugs, unfazed.

“Good idea. Go entertain yourself, Jack.”

Jack winks. “Don’t mind if I do.” He stands up and heads for the door, adding, “You two just make sure to keep it PG—some of us don’t need to see that much chemistry before our coffee kicks in.”

You watch as Jack exits, still grinning like the mischievous brat he is.

As the door clicks behind Jack, the quiet of the kitchen settles in, leaving just you and Luke alone, the lingering tension between you two impossible to ignore. Luke shifts, his hands still resting on your hands as he pulls you gently into his lap. Your heart beats a little faster at the sudden closeness, but you refuse to let the thrill of it distract you from the conversation you know needs to happen.

You take a deep breath, looking up into his eyes—eyes that are soft but hold that familiar spark of mischief, the kind that makes it hard to think straight. He tilts his head slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he runs his thumb over your hand, tracing slow circles. The warmth of his touch makes your breath hitch, but you bite your lip, determined to have this talk.

“Luke,” you start, your voice softer than you intended, “We need to talk about last night. About... us.”

Luke's expression changes, the playful gleam fading into something more intense. He doesn’t pull away, though. Instead, he tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and his voice drops an octave. “I thought we were past talking. I thought we were just... enjoying each other.”

His words make your pulse quicken, but you hold firm. You need to address this.

“I’m serious,” you say, your voice steady, though your chest betrays you with its nervous flutter. “I need to know where this is going, Luke. You’re 21, I’m 27. That’s a six-year difference. I’ve been through more in my life. I want a family soon. I want stability. Not... something fleeting.”

Luke’s gaze darkens, and his thumb continues its slow, soothing motion over your skin, but there’s a new intensity in his eyes. He’s quiet for a moment, absorbing your words. The air feels thick with unspoken thoughts, the weight of what you’ve just said hanging between you.

“You think I don’t want the same things?” he asks, his voice steady but with a sharp edge, not defensive—more... thoughtful. “I’m not some kid just looking for a fling. I’ve thought this through. I’m looking for something real. I’ve spent too much time in meaningless situations to want that anymore. I went to our date because I was looking for something serious. And my friend told me you’d be looking for the same thing.”

He lets your words settle, his eyes never leaving yours. “After spending the night talking with you, I felt like I wasn’t just talking to someone who’s interesting—I felt like I was talking to someone who gets it. Someone who’s looking for the same kind of connection. I’m not here for something that’ll fizzle out in a few weeks. I’m here because... I think you might be the person I’ve been waiting for.”

His words hit you in a way you weren’t prepared for. You’re caught off guard, unsure how to respond, but something stirs inside you. Something warm, something you didn’t expect. You can feel the truth of what he’s saying in your chest, and for the first time, you start to question the assumptions you’d made.

“Yeah, but you’re still figuring things out,” you say, your voice shaky now, a trace of worry creeping in. “You’re just starting out in life. Maybe you don’t want the same kind of commitment I do. I need someone who’s already ready to settle down.”

Luke doesn’t hesitate. His fingers slide up to your jaw, his touch firm but tender, like he’s grounding you to the moment. His gaze holds yours, no longer playful, but filled with something deeper. Something real.

“I’m ready for that,” he murmurs, his voice soft but full of conviction. “I know what I want. And I want you. If you’re worried about my age, let me show you I’m more than just a number.”

His words are almost a whisper, but there’s a quiet confidence in them that sends a thrill through you. His lips are so close now, you can feel his breath on your skin as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m not asking for a lifetime yet, but I’m asking for the chance to prove myself. To prove that I’m capable of giving you the kind of future you want.”

You close your eyes, your breath catching in your throat. He’s not backing down, and the sincerity in his words leaves you no room to doubt him. But still, you can’t help but voice the doubts that swirl in your mind.

“I don’t want to get hurt, Luke,” you whisper, finally letting yourself admit the fear you’ve been pushing down. “I’ve been through enough heartache. And if you don’t want the same things I do, if you’re not ready for it... I don’t know if I can take that risk.”

Luke leans in just a little more, his lips brushing against your cheek before he pulls back slightly, his hands cradling your face. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth of his skin, the steadiness of his gaze. “I’m ready for you. Ready for everything that comes with it,” he says, his voice resolute. “I wouldn’t be here, sitting with you like this, if I wasn’t.”

You search his eyes for any sign of hesitation, but there’s none. What you see instead is determination—an unspoken promise that, for all his age, he knows what he wants and is willing to fight for it.

The air between you two shifts, the quiet between you no longer heavy with doubt, but filled with something new. Something that makes your pulse race.

“Okay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “Then show me.”

At that, his lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and slow, filled with all the unspoken things you’ve both been dancing around. His hands slide to your back, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. Your hands find their way to his curls, tugging him in as if you can’t get close enough. The world around you fades away—there’s only the feeling of his mouth against yours, the pressure of his body against yours, the shared certainty that whatever this is, it’s more than just physical.

When you finally pull away, both breathless, Luke grins, his forehead resting against yours. 

Luke leans back a little bit, his eyes gleaming with that mischievous glint as he watches you, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You know," he says casually, his voice thick with satisfaction, "I have to admit... I’ve never had a night quite like that. You really know how to use that beautiful mouth of yours."

You glance over at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? What do you mean?"

Luke shifts a little closer, his grin widening. "Well, I’ve had my fair share of nights, but... last night? You...You were next level. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to be that blown away."

You feel your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and flattery. "Really? Well, I kinda feel the same. I’ve never... finished two times in one night."

Luke’s eyes narrow in surprise. "What?! Baby, that wasn’t even that much. I think we can go for four or five next time." He winks, his tone playful, but there's a hint of challenge in his voice.

You laugh, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. "Is that so? You really think you can keep up?"

Luke smirks, leaning in just a little closer, his voice low and confident. "Oh, I’m definitely up for the challenge. You just wait."

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming on your lips. "Maybe this whole 'young boyfriend' thing isn’t such a bad idea after all... Good stamina and all that."

Luke grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Told ya!" He leans in, planting a series of quick, soft kisses across your face and neck, each one sending a delightful shiver through your skin. You can't help but laugh at his actions, brushing your nose against his cheek as your giggles mix with his gentle kisses.

Just as you're starting to recover from his playful assault, a voice slices through the moment like an ice-cold splash of water.

"Can you drop the sex talk, guys?" Jack's voice rings out from the kitchen doorway, dripping with disgust but clearly amused by the whole situation. "I didn’t need to know this much about my little brother."

You freeze, eyes wide, before you turn to Luke, who looks utterly unfazed, that smug, victorious grin plastered across his face. It’s as if he’s just won some kind of prize, and he's wearing it like a badge of honor.

Embarrassment creeps up your neck, but before you can even process the awkwardness, you find yourself laughing. The tension dissolves in the shared amusement of the moment. Luke just shrugs casually, looking way too pleased with himself.

"Relax, Jack. It’s called maturity," you reply with a wink, and Luke chuckles, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

Jack groans dramatically, rolling his eyes. "You two are gross. And seriously, for the future, we need some rules. These walls are way too thin. I do not need to hear you two in action. Thank God I wasn’t home yesterday."

You let out a horrified gasp, hiding your face in Luke’s neck. "Jesus, Jack," you mumble, half laughing, half mortified.

Luke just keeps laughing, clearly entertained by the situation. "You heard nothing. Just a couple of adults figuring things out," he teases.

Jack mutters something under his breath before calling out with a playful, exaggerated gag. "God, I need to vomit. You two are so disgusting."

"Guess this means you're sticking around, huh?" Luke whispers against your mouth, his voice low and warm, sending another wave of heat through you.

You nod, content, leaning into him with a soft smile. "Guess so," you murmur, brushing your lips against his in return.

Jack, clearly fed up with the display, huffs dramatically and walks away with an exaggerated sigh. "You two are the worst."

As he exits, you look up at Luke, feeling that warmth in your chest—the comfort, the excitement, all mixed together. You can get used to mornings like this, even if it means dealing with Jack’s teasing. Or, you think with a smirk, maybe you’ll just strangle him in his sleep. Problem solved.

Luke catches the glint in your eye and chuckles, clearly knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“Careful,” he says with a playful smirk, “I’d hate to lose my new favourite person just because you can’t handle my brother.”

You laugh, pulling him in for one last kiss.

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 13)

Goddammit, you never felt this small before. Sure, all hybrids are twice or thrice your size, but why do you feel this way only now that you were standing in front of Johnny's kneeled down form?

He was kneeling down. Kneeling down. And was still bigger than you standing up.

He was large too. All of them were, really. Men as buff as them naturally had large bodies—it was impossible not to notice that their arms were as thick as your torso.

So....

How exactly were you supposed to fight with him?

It's a play fight, just a play fight, but still, you didn't know what to do. This was insane, how could someone like you fight with a werewolf his size...? And he wanted you to "mess him up"??

You should've suggest playing UNO instead, this is torture.

"Mhm.... I-I... dunno what to do...?" You mumble, uncertain. Your eyes flick to his form—the way excitement buzzes through him, his tail wagging fast behind him, ears pressed flat against his head. His toothy smile never wavering.

Big canines too, bigger than Ghost's.

"It's easy, lassie." He cooed, voice more controlled and calmer than what his body language was showing. "Come on, ya trust papa, right? Papa will never hurt ye."

"I don't know how to fight...." You insist, frowning a little in worry, still shuffling quietly in front of him.

“Don’ have tae. Wha’ does a wee pup ken?” He snickers, rolling his eyes as his accent gets stronger out of nowhere. “Ah just like ma kids messin’ me up! Ye can bite, scratch, or anythin’ else, really. Ah can take anythin’, ye wee runt!”

You hesitate, still looking over his form in worry and confusion. You didn't even move from your position, just holding onto your hoodie as you rubbed your socked feet with each other.

Johnny’s excited, competitive demeanor softened a bit as he sized you up, his tail wagging less and his ears perking up again.

“C’mere, puppy, c’mere… pstpst, it’s alrigh’…” He cooed gently, beckoning you closer with a small hand gesture. “Come tae papa, he’ll teach ye everythin’, aye?”

You blushed in embarrassment at his attitude, letting out a quiet sigh as you approached, still clutching the sleeves of your hoodie.

He immediately flashed you a big, toothy grin—sincere, yet still intimidating. His dangerous demeanor remained as scary as ever. Honestly? He looked kinda insane.

And then—

Big hands grabbed you, making you gasp in surprise as he took you down onto the mat. Technically, he just kinda grabbed you and eased you onto your back, but still—you weren’t expecting it! It was fast.

“Down ye go.” He smiled in a terrifying mix of gentleness and smugness. “Now what, wee bonnie baby?” His tone was pure challenge.

You stared up at him with wide eyes, frozen for a few seconds. His big palm rested gently on your chest, fingers spread just enough to frame your neck as he held both your shoulders down with one hand, caging you in. His feral eyes and sharp grin never wavered as he loomed over you, kneeling like a true predator.

You breathed in shakily at the thought, both small hands coming up to grasp his wrist, trying to gently push his hand away. Your legs curling up close to your chest.

“Don’ let him pin ya down.”

Ghost’s voice immediately caught your attention, making you turn your head on the mat to glance at him sideways on the edge of the mat. He stood with his arms crossed and a serious expression on his face, watching closely.

“Aye, runt, why’re ye lettin’ me pin ye down?” Soap teased again, one of his fingers gently rubbing your cheek from where he held you against the mat.

You bit your lip at the provocation, anxiety creeping back in. You pushed with a bit more force, trying to make his hand move, but weakened your grip when he laughed mockingly, leaning his head down dangerously close to yours.

“Look at this… nae claws at all, such cute wee fingers… trimmed nails and all, eh, wee baby? Price was talkin’ ‘bout ye humans… how we’ve gotta keep ye groomed right—short nails on hands an’ feet, brushed wee teeth, and trimmed hair… are all humans frail wee thingies like ye, runt?” He snickered, a broad, teasing smile stretched across his face.

"Big talk for a dirty mutt." Ghost joined in, voice low and raspy as he steaped on the mat, feet covered in black socks.

You immediately tensed up in worry at his tone, eyes widening as your body locked up. It sounded harsh, and for a moment, you genuinely feared they might start arguing right then and there.

But...

Johnny just laughed it off, his smile still wide, his hand still pressing you down against the mat as he kept an eye on Simon entering the mat from his peripheral vision.

“Are ye gonna get in the way, Si?” Soap asked menacingly, tilting his head slightly, baring his teeth at the other man.

“No. I don’t plan on fightin’ ya. I’m here for the kid.” he answered simply, dropping heavily to his knees by your side. "Come on, fledgling. His fingers are wide spread, tuck your hands under them."

You blinked up at him, stunned for a few seconds, before quickly glancing back at Johnny’s hand. Letting go of his wrist, you forced your hands under his fingers, slowly but surely lifting it off your shoulders and chest.

Sure, Johnny wasn’t putting much strength behind it, and he was still cooing at you the whole time, but you managed to take his hand off of you, only for Simon to roughly shove Johnny down onto the mat.

“Hey!” Soap laughed, falling onto his back, his elbows holding his body up.

"Go, up, come on." Simon nudged you, pushing your sitted form in Johnny's direction gently.

You got to your feet, slightly unsteady, feeling the gentle push of his hand that made you tumble on top of Soap, who was just staring at you with a smile.

“Hurt him. Go for his neck.” Ghost instructed, arms crossed as he watched you both.

“Wi’ these wee hands?” Soap cooed mockingly, his hand coming up to gently grab yours and rub with his thumb.

Ghost sighed quietly at your lack of reaction, watching you sit on top of Soap’s waist, your hand held in his, looking uncertain. Truly, zero instincts with this one.

“Gaz was right… it really does feel like when we had only newborns.” Soap laughed quietly, messing slightly with your hand, moving it around. “Ah used tae put them on ma chest for tummy time, too.”

You frowned slightly in confusion at that, head tilting slightly to the side.

"What's that...?"

“Oh, it’s—Ah mean…”

Even though Johnny was still smiling, he frowned a bit too, apparently caught off guard by your question. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. For a moment, it even seemed like pity crossed his face too.

“It’s when ye put babies on a soft surface, belly to the ground, and leave ‘em there. Helps ‘em strengthen their bodies so they can start crawling later on,” Ghost explained calmly, pushing you up slightly higher against Soap. “Now, come on, try to hurt him. He can take it.”

You still hesitated at that, unsure about actually trying to hurt one of your foster parents. Still, you sighed quietly before grabbing the hand that was holding yours and pushing against Johnny's face, hearing him laugh.

"Yeah, that's not going to do much." Ghost commented dryly.

Before you could say anything else, you let out a small, surprised yelp as Soap suddenly switched places with you, grabbing your small body effortlessly and getting on top of you once again, big grin still plastered on his stupid smiling face.

This time, at least, you managed to place your feet against his chest, pushing him slightly away from your body.

"Ya ken, Price's always liked a rough fight," Soap chuckled, a smug smile on his face as his big hand wrapped around your calf. "Me too, o' course, but he's even more violent than me, if ye believe it. Big bastard roughed up everyone as a soldier, an' let all the kids rough him up right back as a parent. He loves it."

"To be fair, most of us do." Ghost nodded from his place on the mat.

"But how does a wee thing like ye plan to do it if ye dinnae even try?"

At that, your leg was quickly pulled back, your body dragged across the mat as you let out a small shriek, only to immediately laugh right after when Soap stopped pulling you by the leg.

Actually, you were so busy giggling in a mix of surprise and excitement that you didn’t notice Johnny and Simon looking at you with surprise and contentment. It took them a bit, but they finally managed to make you actually laugh.

And what a cute laugh you had.

"Guys, come on up, Price still wants to check if her cold's gone away and watch a movie!" Kyle called out from the stairs, smiling gently at the scene.

"Heard that, lass? Hope ye like cartoons, ‘cause we love ‘em!" Johnny smiled excitedly, helping you up onto your little feet.

"I actually developed a liking for them after bein' forced to watch thousands of different ones as our kids grew up," Ghost commented, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Coco's very nice. Would ya like to see it, kid?"

"I'm... not sure...." You mumble, not recognizing the name.

"Yer gonna love it, lassie! Ah guarantee!"

Part 12 /

[scarletwinterxx]

maybe maybe - jeon wonwoo imagine

hellooooo ~ i need to give myself a pat in the back for this bcs OH MY GOSH EVEN I WAS GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET WHILE WRITING THIS. the slooooow burn on this🫠 we love a nonchalant and oa combo (if u know u know)

also i was listening to maybe maybe by lola amour while writing this. give it a listen to get the maximum feels😅

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve liked Jeon Wonwoo for as long as you can remember. It’s not a fleeting crush or some shallow infatuation—it’s the kind of feeling that lingers, like a persistent shadow. He knows it; everyone does. But as much as your friends tease you about your obvious affection for him, Wonwoo has never acknowledged it.

Not once.

Wonwoo is the epitome of calm indifference. He’s polite, sure, but he never goes out of his way to engage with anyone outside of his tight-knit circle of friends, Vernon and Minghao. They’re always together, laughing at inside jokes and radiating an air of effortless cool that only makes him seem more unreachable.

And yet, you can’t help yourself. You’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame, even though he treats you no differently than anyone else.

Sometimes you wonder if he even notices the little things you do for him—the way you save him a seat in class when he’s running late, or how you always bring an extra drink to study group just in case he wants one. You tell yourself you’re just being nice, but Mimi, your best friend, sees right through you.

“This is ridiculous,” she tells you one afternoon, leaning back in her chair with an exasperated sigh.

The two of you are sitting outside on the campus lawn, the warm sunlight doing little to ease the frustration in her voice. “You’re bending over backward for a guy who can’t even spare you a second glance.”

“He’s not that bad,” you argue weakly, though even you know it’s a poor defense. Mimi raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Not that bad? Y/N, he’s like a brick wall with glasses. Sure, he’s good-looking, but you can’t build a relationship on eye contact alone.”

“I’m not trying to build a relationship!” you protest, though your cheeks heat at the lie. “I just… I like being around him, that’s all.”

Mimi rolls her eyes. “You like torturing yourself, is what you mean. Honestly, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you enjoy the challenge.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe there’s a part of you that holds onto this unrequited crush because it’s safer than the alternative. If you never confess, you can never be rejected. And as much as Wonwoo’s aloofness stings, it’s still better than the thought of him outright telling you he doesn’t feel the same.

But then there are moments—rare, fleeting moments—when you catch a glimpse of something softer beneath his exterior. Like the time you lent him your notes for a class he missed, and he returned them with a quiet “Thanks” and a small, almost imperceptible smile. Or the way his eyes lingered on you for just a second longer than usual when you bumped into him at the library last week.

It’s those moments that keep you hanging on, no matter how much Mimi scolds you for it.

“You’re hopeless,” she says with a shake of her head. But there’s no real malice in her words, just the weary affection of someone who’s watched you pine for too long. “I swear, one day you’re going to look back on this and laugh.”

You doubt it, but you don’t say that out loud. Instead, you change the subject, steering the conversation toward something less painful.

Later that day, you find yourself crossing paths with Wonwoo outside the campus café. He’s with Vernon and Minghao, as usual, but when he sees you, he slows his pace, letting his friends walk ahead without him.

“Hey,” he says, his voice as steady and unreadable as ever.

“Hi,” you manage, your heart doing its usual somersault at the sight of him.

For a moment, you stand there, unsure of what to say. But before the silence can stretch too long, Wonwoo speaks again.

“Thanks for the notes,” he says simply.

It’s not much, just two words, but the sincerity in his tone catches you off guard. For once, it feels like he’s really looking at you, not just through you. And in that moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, there’s hope after all.

It’s a small step, but it’s enough to keep you going.

Mimi is relentless, as she always is when it comes to your love life—or lack thereof. She’s leaning against your desk chair in your dorm room, scrolling through her phone with a dramatic sigh.

“I’m telling you, Y/N, this guy is perfect for you. He’s into photography, loves indie films, and he’s even in your lit class. Plus, he doesn’t act like he’s living in a perpetual state of indifference.” She shoves her phone in your face, showing you a photo of a guy you vaguely recognize from class. He’s cute, objectively speaking, with a kind smile and a soft, approachable vibe.

But you shake your head before Mimi can even finish her pitch. “I’m not interested.”

Mimi groans, tossing her phone onto your bed. “Why do you do this to yourself? It’s not like you’re dating Wonwoo, or that he’s even trying to date you. You’re wasting your time on a guy who can’t even bother to hold a real conversation with you.”

Her words hit harder than she probably intended, and for a moment, you feel the weight of the truth behind them. She’s right—nothing about your feelings for Wonwoo makes sense. You know it’s a losing game, but every time you even consider the idea of moving on, it feels wrong. Like you’d be betraying something you’ve held onto for so long.

“It’s not that simple,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you intended.

Mimi softens at your tone, sinking onto the edge of your bed. “Then make it simple, Y/N. I get it—you like him. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You deserve someone who actually sees you.”

“I don’t know if I want someone else to see me,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

It’s frustrating—you’re frustrated with yourself.

Every time you see Wonwoo, it’s like all the logic and advice you’ve been given evaporates into thin air. All you see is him: the way his glasses slide down his nose when he’s reading, or the rare laugh that lights up his face when Vernon says something ridiculous. It’s like he’s carved a permanent space in your mind, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t make him leave.

Mimi looks at you like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You’re not even ready to like someone else, are you?”

You shake your head, a small, self-deprecating smile playing on your lips. “I don’t think so. It’s stupid, right? Holding onto feelings for someone who probably doesn’t even think about me.”

“It’s not stupid,” she says, surprising you. “It’s just… hard to watch. You’re one of the best people I know, Y/N, and it sucks to see you stuck on someone who doesn’t appreciate that.”

You’re about to respond when your phone buzzes on the desk. It’s a notification from the group chat for your literature project, and your heart skips a beat when you see Wonwoo’s name among the participants.

“Speak of the devil,” Mimi mutters when she notices your expression. She doesn’t need to ask who the message is from.

You open the chat to find a simple message from Wonwoo: I have some extra notes from class if anyone needs them. Just let me know.

It’s not directed at you specifically, but your heart still flutters at the thought of him offering to help. Mimi catches the way your lips twitch into a faint smile and groans dramatically, flopping back onto your bed.

“You’re hopeless,” she declares, though her tone is more resigned than annoyed.

You don’t argue with her this time. Maybe you are hopeless, but you’re not ready to give up just yet. Because even though it doesn’t make sense, even though it’s frustrating and irrational and probably a little pathetic, a part of you still believes there’s something worth holding onto.

The next day, you’re determined to take a small step forward.

Wonwoo’s message about the notes keeps replaying in your mind, like a sign you can’t ignore. It’s a flimsy excuse to talk to him, sure, but it’s enough to make you gather your courage and head toward the study hall where you know he likes to hang out.

You spot him right away, sitting at his usual corner table. His laptop is open, and a notebook lies beside it, his familiar neat handwriting filling the pages. But before you can take another step, you see her.

She’s sitting across from him, her dark hair tied back in a sleek ponytail. She’s gorgeous in a natural, effortless way that makes you want to disappear on the spot. And the way Wonwoo looks at her—it’s like someone punched you in the stomach. His smile is soft, easy, like he’s known her forever. He’s speaking to her with a comfort and warmth that he’s never shown you.

You freeze in place, your confidence evaporating in an instant. All the what-ifs and maybes that have kept you going suddenly feel childish and naive. You turn on your heel and leave before either of them can notice you.

The rest of the week feels like a blur. You don’t have the energy to pretend everything is fine, and Mimi is quick to notice.

“What’s wrong with you lately?” she asks on Thursday, her eyes narrowing in concern as she sits across from you in the campus café. “You’ve been moping around like someone stole your dog.”

You shrug, poking at your untouched sandwich. “It’s nothing.”

“Liar,” she says immediately. “Come on, spill.”

When you hesitate, she leans in closer, her voice softening. “Is it Wonwoo?”

The look on your face is answer enough.

Mimi lets out a groan, rubbing her temples. “Y/N, you’ve got to stop doing this to yourself. If he’s making you feel like this—”

“It’s not his fault,” you cut in quickly. “He doesn’t even know how I feel.”

“Exactly,” she says, exasperated. “You’re tearing yourself apart over a guy who doesn’t even know what he’s doing to you.”

You don’t respond, and Mimi sighs. After a moment of silence, she leans forward with a determined look in her eyes.

“Alright, that’s it. I’m not letting you mope around all weekend. There’s a party on Saturday, and you’re coming with me.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand to stop you.

“No excuses. You need a distraction, and I’m going to make sure you have fun whether you like it or not.”

True to her word, Saturday evening finds you standing in front of the mirror, dressed in an outfit Mimi picked out for you. It’s a little more daring than your usual style—an off-the-shoulder black dress that hugs your figure in all the right places—but Mimi insists it’s perfect.

“You look hot,” she declares, grinning as she adjusts the necklace around your neck. “Wonwoo who?”

You laugh despite yourself, though the sound feels hollow. Mimi doesn’t miss the way your smile falters, and she grabs your hands, forcing you to meet her gaze.

“Listen, Y/N. Tonight is about you. Forget about Wonwoo, forget about everything else, and just have fun. You deserve to feel good about yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur, even though you’re not sure you believe it.

But as Mimi drags you out the door and toward the party, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, she’s right. Maybe it’s time to let go, even if just for one night.

The bass from the speakers reverberates through your chest the moment you step inside the party venue. It’s dimly lit, with neon lights flashing and a sea of people crowded around the dance floor and bar.

You feel out of place immediately, but Mimi, ever the extrovert, is in her element. She practically radiates confidence as she scans the room, her hand firmly gripping your wrist.

“This is going to be fun,” she says with a grin, already pulling you toward the bar.

“Mimi, wait—” you start to protest, but she’s not listening. Within moments, she’s ordering shots, her energy infectiously bold.

“Two tequila shots, please!” she calls out over the noise, turning to you with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “Come on, Y/N. You said you’d let loose tonight!”

“I didn’t say I’d drink,” you mumble, eyeing the small glasses as they’re placed in front of you.

Mimi rolls her eyes. “One shot won’t kill you. It’s called liquid courage. You’ll thank me later.”

Before you can object again, she’s shoving one of the glasses into your hand. Everything feels like it’s happening too fast—the music, the lights, the crowd, and now this. You glance down at the clear liquid and then at Mimi, who’s already downed hers like a pro.

“Cheers to forgetting about all your worries!” she declares, clinking her empty glass against yours.

You sigh, realizing you have no way out, and tip the shot back. The alcohol burns as it goes down, and you cough slightly, grimacing at the taste. Mimi laughs and pats your back.

“There you go! See? That wasn’t so bad,” she says, already signaling for another round.

As Mimi orders more drinks, you glance around the room, trying to get your bearings.

You don’t notice the way heads turn in your direction, but Wonwoo does.

From his spot in the corner of the room, he’s watching you.

He’d seen you the moment you walked in, though he wasn’t the only one. It’s hard not to notice you tonight. You look stunning, completely different from your usual casual, understated style. The black dress you’re wearing accentuates your figure, and there’s a confidence in the way you carry yourself—even if you don’t feel it.

Vernon nudges him lightly, leaning in to murmur, “Isn’t that Y/N?”

Wonwoo doesn’t reply, his gaze fixed on you as you stand at the bar with Mimi. He’s used to seeing you in hoodies and jeans, always looking comfortable and approachable. But tonight, you’re turning heads left and right, and it’s clear you’re out of your element.

“She cleans up well,” Minghao comments casually, sipping his drink.

Wonwoo doesn’t respond, but his jaw tightens ever so slightly. He watches as Mimi drags you further into the chaos of the party, her energy pulling you along like a whirlwind. You seem hesitant, your eyes wide as you take in the unfamiliar environment, but there’s something endearing about it.

For a moment, Wonwoo feels a strange pang in his chest, though he can’t quite place it. Maybe it’s because he’s not used to seeing you like this, so far removed from the quiet kindness you usually exude. Or maybe it’s the way other people are looking at you—the guys whose eyes linger a little too long, the girls whispering behind their hands.

“Dude,” Vernon says, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You good?”

Wonwoo blinks, finally tearing his gaze away. “Yeah,” he mutters, though his voice lacks conviction.

But even as his friends return to their conversation, Wonwoo can’t help but glance back at you. There’s something about tonight that feels different, and for the first time in a long time, he wonders if he’s the one being left behind.

The alcohol was starting to buzz in your veins, making the room feel warmer and the noise more distant. Mimi was in her element, laughing and chatting with a group of students you vaguely recognized from campus. Somehow, you’d gotten swept up in their drinking games, and before you knew it, one shot had turned into two, then three.

Now, you were standing in a loose circle, your nerves on edge as you watched the current game unfold. Someone had explained it a moment ago: take the shot, then grab the lemon wedge held between another person’s lips. It was bold, far outside your comfort zone, but you didn’t want to be the odd one out.

“Your turn, Y/N!” someone called, handing you a small shot glass filled with tequila.

Your hands felt clammy as you accepted it, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t even look at the person who was supposed to hold the lemon for you—your nerves wouldn’t let you. All you could think about was how awkward this was going to be, and how much you wished you could disappear into the floor.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes briefly as you downed the shot in one go.

The burn of the alcohol hit first, followed by a rush of heat in your chest. When you opened your eyes and turned your head to face whoever had volunteered to hold the lemon, you froze.

Wonwoo didn’t expect it to happen so soon, but there you were, standing at the bar with a shot in hand, the challenge in your eyes as you glanced at the person next to you holding a lemon.

And then—before he even realized what he was doing—he found himself walking over.

You blinked, wondering if the tequila was playing tricks on you. But no—he was standing right in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face as if this was the most natural thing in the world. The room seemed to fall away, the noise and chaos fading into the background.

The lemon wedge was between his lips, his sharp gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

Your heart felt like it might burst out of your chest as he leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. His touch was warm, steady, grounding you even as your mind spiraled.

Every nerve in your body was on high alert, the proximity making your head spin even more than the alcohol.

The way you looked at him when you saw him standing there, so close, made something stir in his chest. He was used to seeing you in passing, in casual greetings, but never like this.

Never with this... spark in your eyes, the nervous energy swirling between you two as if the whole room had faded into the background.

His hand found its way to your face without him thinking about it. It was like instinct, like he was meant to touch you, to make the moment real, to ground you in the present. He could feel your breath against his lips as he held the lemon between his teeth, his own heartbeat quickening as he leaned in. The closeness was intoxicating, and even though everything around you was chaotic, there was a stillness between you two—something unspoken that hummed in the air.

His lips brushed against yours, and for a split second, the world stopped moving. The taste of tequila, the sharpness of the lemon, it all blurred together, leaving just the feeling of your presence, warm and electric. It was over in an instant, but the memory lingered like an echo in his mind.

When he pulled away, he noticed the slight tremble in your breath, the flush creeping up your cheeks. His fingers lingered on your skin, just for a moment, before he let go and took a step back. He couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or something else that made him act on impulse, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

“Careful with those shots,” he said, his voice steady as he turned to leave, wanting to disappear into the crowd before he did something even more foolish.

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing back into the crowd.

You stood there, your heart racing and your mind spinning, wondering if what had just happened was real—or if it was just another tequila-induced dream.

The morning light is harsh, seeping through the blinds and hitting you like a freight train.

Your head pounds, your mouth is dry, and you feel like your body is made of lead. Every movement feels like a chore, and the only thing you want is to pull the covers over your head and pretend like the world doesn't exist.

But then you remember last night. Bits and pieces of the party flash through your foggy mind—Mimi dragging you into the chaos, the shots, the people... and then, the moment with Wonwoo.

You sit up, your stomach flipping at the thought of it.

What had happened? Was it real? Or just a tequila-fueled dream? Your heart sinks into your stomach as the hangover makes itself known in full force. You groan, leaning back against your pillow.

Mimi, ever the morning person, bursts into your room without knocking, as if she doesn’t notice the state you’re in.

“Morning!” she says brightly, a little too brightly, given your current condition. She’s holding a water bottle and some aspirin in her hand. “Here, drink this. You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, taking the bottle gratefully, but your eyes are still squinting against the harsh light. “Mimi... what happened last night? What... what did I do?”

Mimi plops down on the edge of your bed, clearly already recovered from whatever wildness the night had thrown her way. She grins, almost too smugly for your current state.

“Let me think,” she says, tapping her chin like she’s in deep contemplation. “Well, first you got a little tipsy, then you got a lot tipsy... You were a little shy at first, but after a few shots, you really started to loosen up!”

You wince, already imagining how embarrassing you must have been. “And…?”

“Then,” she continues, barely able to contain her laughter, “you and Wonwoo had a moment.”

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. “Wait, what?”

“Oh yeah,” Mimi says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You two were definitely the talk of the night. You guys played that game, and then...” She pauses for dramatic effect, clearly enjoying every second of your discomfort. “...Well, let’s just say the lemon wedge wasn’t the only thing shared.”

Your brain stumbles over the words as the memory floods back. You and Wonwoo, so close, his hands on your face, the taste of tequila and lemon... And then the kiss, the soft brush of his lips against yours, lingering for just a heartbeat.

You feel your cheeks heat up, even as you cringe internally. “That wasn’t a kiss, was it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, it definitely was,” Mimi says with a teasing grin, clearly delighted by the reaction she’s getting from you. “A very brief one, but yeah. It happened.”

You bury your face in your hands, groaning in embarrassment. “Oh my god, I’m going to die.”

“No, no, no.” Mimi leans in, trying to comfort you—though her laughter is a little too apparent. “It wasn’t a big deal! You didn’t embarrass yourself too badly. Besides, from what I saw, he didn’t look like he minded.”

You look up at her, eyes wide. “What do you mean? Did he say anything?”

Mimi shrugs, her grin turning a little more thoughtful. “He didn’t say much”

Your heart skips a beat. You hadn’t even considered that. Did he... stay because he was just being polite? Or was there something else there?

"Did anything else happen after that?" you ask cautiously.

Mimi shakes her head. "No, you two went your separate ways pretty quickly after that. I mean, you were a little tipsy, so I didn't want to push you too much. But trust me, you're not imagining it. Something happened, even if you're too hungover to remember all the details.”

You lean back against the pillows, the weight of her words settling in your chest. Wonwoo. That moment. Had he really felt something too? Or was it just the alcohol making you think there was more to it than there actually was?

"Mimi..." you trail off, unsure how to even phrase your next question. "What do I do now?"

Mimi's expression softens slightly, though she still has that mischievous glint in her eye. "You let it play out. Don't overthink it. If something’s meant to happen, it will. If not, then at least you got a pretty wild story to tell."

You nod slowly, still unsure about everything. The hangover isn’t making things any easier, and your head feels like it’s full of unanswered questions.

But as you drink the water and swallow the aspirin she handed you, you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the beginning of something you’ve been waiting for. Even if you don’t have all the answers yet.

The next few days felt like an emotional rollercoaster, and you were stuck somewhere near the top, trying to keep your balance.

After last night’s chaos, you couldn’t bring yourself to face Wonwoo. You avoided him like the plague, keeping your distance whenever you saw him around campus. It wasn’t because you regretted what happened, but because... well, it felt like you were the only one who cared about it, and that made everything awkward.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything, didn’t acknowledge you or the kiss. He acted like it was nothing, like it was just some silly game, just like the other shots and the other people. But the longer you avoided him, the more you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was aware of it—aware of you. And that only made it worse.

His friends had caught on, too. Vernon had laughed it off, saying it was cute how you were avoiding Wonwoo. Minghao seemed amused. They didn’t think much of it, but you couldn’t ignore the tension that built up every time you crossed paths with them.

But it wasn’t just them noticing. Wonwoo was noticing too. You could feel his eyes on you whenever you went to class or sat in the library. His usual nonchalant demeanor didn’t give anything away, but there was something in the way he lingered a little longer, just enough to make you feel seen, even when you wanted to disappear.

Then, one afternoon, when you thought you were finally in the clear, it happened.

You were walking home, head down, lost in your thoughts as the weight of the last few days pressed heavily on your shoulders. You should’ve stayed in and avoided the outside world. But, no, you were out here, walking alone, hoping the fresh air would clear your head.

And then, you heard the familiar sound of an engine approaching. You looked up just in time to see Wonwoo’s car slowing beside you. Your heart skipped, and for a moment, everything inside you screamed to turn around and run. You were already panicking, your steps quickening, but before you could escape, the car came to a stop beside you.

Wonwoo rolled down the window, his expression as unreadable as ever, but his voice—his voice was what made you freeze.

“Y/N,” he called out, and your pulse quickened. You turn slowly to face him

"Hey, Wonwoo. Uh what's up?" you casually, trying to hide the fact that your face is burning because of him and not the cold winds

"Just got out of class, are you walking home?"

"Yea, on my way home too. Anyways, I better get going. See you... around" you wave goodbye and started to walk again.

You hear the car door open and steps behind you, "Are you avoiding me?" his question makes you stop on your tracks. Turning around to see him leaning against the passenger side of his car

“Uh... I... It’s just—” you stutter, and then you realize you can’t lie about it anymore. “It’s because of... the kiss.”

His face doesn’t shift, no surprise or confusion. He just looks at you, his dark eyes locking onto yours for a moment too long. And then, as if it’s nothing at all, he shrugs.

“It wasn’t even a kiss, Y/N,” he says coolly, as though it’s no big deal. “It was just... part of the game. Nothing to worry about.”

The words hit you like a bucket of ice water. You’re disappointed, though you try not to show it. You wanted something more. You wanted him to acknowledge the tension, the fact that there was something between you two, something real.

But of course, that was just how Wonwoo was—nonchalant, distant, and always acting like everything was just nothing.

You couldn’t help the slight sinking feeling in your chest. You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Right. Of course,” you mutter, hoping your voice doesn’t betray the disappointment you feel.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. You feel awkward, standing there on the sidewalk, his car still idling beside you. But then he speaks again, his tone softening just slightly, though still with that signature aloofness.

“Get in. I’ll drive you home.” he opens the passenger door, waiting for you.

You hesitate. You should just say no, continue walking, put some distance between you. But you’re tired, emotionally drained, and there's something about his voice—something about the way he’s offering that makes it hard to refuse. You sigh, not knowing what to say but not wanting to make things worse. You step toward the car, sliding into the passenger seat without another word.

As he pulls away, the silence in the car is thick, and you can’t stop the thoughts that swirl in your head. You want to ask him, want to know if that kiss meant anything to him, or if he really did feel nothing about it.

But that’s just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Always distant, always playing it cool, never letting anyone get too close.

The drive to your place feels like an eternity, but in the back of your mind, you know this silence between you two is only going to build the tension more. You just wish he would break it.

It wasn’t easy, but you were getting better at avoiding him. The subtle things you used to do for him—saving him a seat in the library, offering him drinks or homemade cookies—had all stopped. You still couldn’t bring yourself to fully confront your feelings for him, and honestly, it felt like the only way to protect yourself was to distance yourself from him as much as possible.

You told yourself it was for the best. You told yourself that the space you were creating would help you get over him. But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much time passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was always watching, always noticing.

And, of course, he noticed. Wonwoo wasn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but he was observant, maybe more so than he let on. He noticed that you stopped going out of your way to be kind to him. He noticed the absence of the small, thoughtful gestures you used to offer. At first, he didn’t say anything, uncertain of what was going on, or whether he even had the right to ask you about it.

But eventually, he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

It was late in the afternoon when you were walking alone on campus, heading toward the library to meet up with Mimi. The cool breeze made your hair dance around your face, and the noise of the campus life seemed distant, as if you were in your own little bubble.

As you passed by the gym, you saw him. Wonwoo. He had just finished his workout, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his T-shirt sticking to his body in that way it always did after a session. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but you quickly turned your attention elsewhere, pretending you hadn’t seen him.

But he saw you. Of course, he did.

“Y/N,” Wonwoo called out, his voice cutting through the ambient noise, his footsteps quickening to match yours. You tried not to flinch as you heard him approaching, but your pulse was racing.

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him, hoping your expression didn’t betray the nervousness bubbling up inside you. “Wonwoo?” you said, keeping your voice steady even though it felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest.

He stopped in front of you, looking at you for a beat too long, like he was sizing you up. The look on his face was unreadable, but you could see the confusion in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed slightly as he took you in.

"Why did you stop?" he asked, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

"Stop?" You repeated, confused by his question. What was he even talking about?

"Yeah," he continued, his voice casual, but there was something different in it now. Something that made you feel like you were under a microscope. "You stopped... saving me seats, or bringing me stuff. You used to do that all the time."

You didn’t know how to respond. A part of you wanted to lie, to say it was no big deal, that you were just too busy or distracted with school, but something in his eyes made you hesitate. The truth, the real reason you were avoiding him, was too complicated. You couldn’t say it outright.

“I just… I guess I’ve been busy,” you said quietly, avoiding his gaze. “Things just… changed, I guess.”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, as though trying to understand, but he didn’t push. There was no challenge in his voice, no annoyance. It was just curiosity, genuine and unassuming.

"Okay," he said after a beat, his eyes still locked on you. “I just thought you were mad at me or something.”

You felt a pang of guilt at his words, but you brushed it aside. “I’m not mad, Wonwoo. I’m just... I don’t know." You shook your head, unsure of how to explain your feelings without making things even more awkward. “I guess I just needed space.”

There was a pause, and then, for the first time in a while, he looked almost... vulnerable. "Space? For what?"

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You could hear the underlying question in his voice, even if he wasn’t asking it directly. Why had you pulled away from him? Why had you stopped the small things that used to come so naturally?

Before you could say anything else, Wonwoo let out a small sigh, and though his expression was still unreadable, there was something softer in his tone. “Alright. I just wanted to know.”

Without waiting for you to respond, he turned to leave, his steps slow but purposeful. For a moment, you just stood there, watching him walk away, the weight of his question lingering in the air between you.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment, though you weren’t sure what exactly you were disappointed in. Was it because he hadn’t pushed you to explain? Or was it because, deep down, you were still waiting for him to say something, anything, to make you feel like your feelings weren’t so one-sided after all?

But that was just how Wonwoo was, wasn’t it? Detached, distant, and never quite giving you the answers you needed.

And yet, even as you watched him disappear into the distance, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder—maybe he did want to know.

The cool breeze of the evening felt nice against your skin as you walked through the quiet neighborhood, sipping on your banana milk. The streets were relatively empty, the soft hum of the evening a welcome relief after a busy week. You didn’t have a particular destination in mind—just wanted to clear your head and enjoy the peace for a while.

As you walked past the familiar basketball court, you spotted a figure out of the corner of your eye. At first, you didn’t think much of it, but then the silhouette registered in your mind. It was Wonwoo.

You stopped in your tracks, unsure whether to approach him or just keep walking. He didn’t seem to notice you at first, too focused on dribbling the ball and taking shots at the hoop. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the court, and for a moment, you found yourself just watching him. There was something about his movements that seemed different, something tight in the way he played—like he was working through something that was bothering him.

Maybe it was the way his jaw was clenched or the way his shoulders were hunched. He looked almost frustrated, the usual nonchalance replaced by something more intense. You stood there, quietly sipping your drink, lost in thought as you watched him.

You were so absorbed in the moment that you didn’t see the ball coming toward you. It hit you squarely on the head before you could react.

"Ouch!" you exclaimed, wincing as you staggered back a step.

Wonwoo’s head snapped toward you immediately, his eyes wide with concern. He jogged over, his long legs covering the distance quickly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice laced with worry. He stood in front of you, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of injury.

You rubbed your head, trying to play it off as no big deal. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t paying attention,” you muttered, but you could tell by the way Wonwoo was looking at you that he wasn’t convinced.

“Are you sure?” He reached up to gently touch the spot where the ball had hit you, his fingers lightly brushing the area. His touch was surprisingly soft, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest despite the situation.

“Really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, pulling back slightly. The last thing you needed was to be caught up in another one of these awkward moments with him.

But before you could brush it off entirely, something in you gave way. The distance you’d been trying to maintain, the walls you’d carefully built to protect yourself—suddenly, it felt so fragile. Maybe it was the way Wonwoo was looking at you so intently, or maybe it was the fact that it had been days since you last spoke. Whatever it was, the words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"I just thought I was being too much," you murmured, your gaze dropping to the ground. "And it’s not like you liked it."

Wonwoo froze, his expression unreadable for a moment as he processed your words.

The air between you seemed to thicken, the awkwardness of the situation now mixed with something more vulnerable. You could feel your heart beating faster, the confession hanging in the air like a weight.

You regretted saying it the moment it left your lips, but it felt like the truth—no matter how painful it was. You didn’t want to keep putting yourself out there, offering him small gestures and favors if he wasn’t interested in them, or in you.

For a long moment, Wonwoo didn’t say anything. His gaze softened, and he seemed to be carefully considering his next words. It wasn’t the detached, nonchalant Wonwoo you were used to.

This time, he seemed almost... human.

"You’re not being too much," he said quietly, his voice lacking its usual coldness. He met your eyes, and for the first time in a while, you saw something different in his gaze—something that wasn’t easy to define. "And I didn’t think it was annoying or anything."

You weren’t sure if you believed him, but the sincerity in his voice made you hesitate. Was he really saying that? Did he mean it?

“I thought you wouldn’t want me to keep doing those things for you if you didn’t care.”

Wonwoo’s expression softened even more, and he let out a small sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that was far more human than the usual composed Wonwoo you knew.

“You’re not being too much, and I guess I see why you think I didn't care. I never said I didn't” he says, this time with more conviction. “I just…” He trailed off, like he was searching for the right words. “I just didn’t know what to make of it. You were doing all these things, and I didn’t know how to react.”

There it was. The reason for his distance. The reason for his coldness. He hadn’t known how to handle your kindness. He hadn’t known what to do with the way you made him feel, and so he had kept his distance, just as you had.

“I’m sorry,” he added after a beat, looking slightly embarrassed, as though the admission was a little difficult for him.

You didn’t know what to say, your mind swirling with a mix of emotions. Had you really been wrong all along? Had he cared, but just not known how to show it?

You were so taken aback by his answer that your mind couldn't keep up. The words he had said, so simple, yet so unexpected, rattled your thoughts. I never said I didn’t care. Had you misread everything? Had all your attempts to keep your distance been for nothing?

"But then the kiss..."

"That was me being stupid, I should've apologized for invading your space like that and you look really bothered by it. I was being dumb"

"Well you did say it was just a game" you mumble

"Like I said, I was being dumb and I apologize" he shoots you a quick apologetic smile

Before you could process anything more, your face heated up with embarrassment. You felt suddenly shy, the weight of the conversation pressing down on you, making it harder to breathe.

“I—” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt a nervous energy surge through you, a mix of confusion and the rush of emotions you were trying to keep hidden.

“I’m fine, really.” You managed to give him a small, flustered smile, hoping it would make him stop worrying about you.

But Wonwoo wasn’t convinced. He stepped a little closer, eyes scanning you with concern. “You don’t seem fine,” he said, his brow furrowing as he looked you over. “You sure you’re not concussed or something? You hit your head pretty hard.”

Your heart raced at the proximity, and you could feel the overwhelming urge to escape before you made a bigger fool of yourself. He was too close.

“No, really, I’m fine,” you said quickly, the words coming out in a rush as you took a step back. You were panicking, trying to make sense of everything, but all you wanted in that moment was to get away from him. To breathe. To process what had just happened.

Before you knew it, your feet were already moving, backing away from him at a faster pace. You didn’t even think about it—your body just reacted, the instinct to escape taking over.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo called after you, his voice filled with concern, but you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t deal with this right now. Not with him standing there, looking so sincere and worried, when you were still trying to understand everything that had just happened.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go!” you shouted over your shoulder, not daring to look back.

You could hear him calling your name again, but you didn’t stop. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you turned down the nearby street, running as fast as you could without looking back.

You kept running, trying to outrun the mess of emotions that swirled inside you. The awkwardness, the guilt, the confusion—it was all too much. And you couldn’t deal with it now.

As you finally slowed down, your breath coming in heavy gasps, you leaned against a nearby wall, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your heartbeat. You’d never done anything like that before—just ran away from a conversation like it was nothing. But in that moment, it felt like the only thing you could do.

What had just happened? Why did his words make you feel like everything inside you was unraveling?

You were doing well—at least, you thought you were.

For the past few days, you had managed to avoid any direct interaction with Wonwoo. You kept your distance, keeping your head down whenever he was around, avoiding his gaze, and hiding whenever you could. It was easier that way. You convinced yourself it was better this way.

But then, on this particular day, as you were gathering your things at the end of class, preparing to leave, you felt a tug on the hood of your jacket. You froze, instinctively jerking away from the sudden contact.

"Y/N," a calm voice spoke, and you looked up to find Wonwoo standing there, looking down at you with a slightly amused, yet nonchalant expression. He didn’t seem angry, just... observing.

You felt your heart skip a beat, and before you could stop yourself, your cheeks began to heat up. His gaze was steady, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as if he was asking you, Are you really doing this?

You didn’t know how to respond. Every part of you wanted to turn away and just leave before things got any worse, but your feet felt rooted to the spot.

“I... I wasn’t... trying to hide,” you stammered, but your voice came out weaker than you’d intended.

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, not saying anything at first. He didn’t need to. His gaze alone spoke volumes. He was just waiting for you to admit what was going on.

You shifted uncomfortably, biting your lower lip as you awkwardly tried to avoid his gaze. “I... didn’t know how to talk to you,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been... confusing. And I thought... maybe it was better to just keep my distance.”

Wonwoo didn’t seem angry. In fact, the amused look on his face lingered, but there was something else there, something softer that you weren’t used to seeing from him. “You’ve been avoiding me for days now,” he said in that same calm tone, his voice unbothered. “But running away won’t make this go away, you know.”

You winced at his words, feeling the weight of them more than you wanted to admit. But you couldn’t deny that he was right. It wasn’t going to disappear just because you ran away from it.

“I... I don’t know what to say to you,” you confessed, feeling all your anxiety bubbling up again. “I don’t want to make things awkward. I just...”

“Just what?” Wonwoo asked, his expression unreadable now, his voice still quiet but insistent. “You think I won’t understand?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I don’t know if you will,” you murmured, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I thought maybe... maybe it was easier to just pretend it didn’t matter.”

Wonwoo studied you for a moment, his gaze softening slightly. “You think it doesn’t matter?” he asked, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “You’re the one who’s been giving me things, doing things for me. It matters.”

You felt your heart beat faster, unsure of how to handle this newfound vulnerability in his voice. It was unlike him, and it was making everything even more complicated.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you said quietly, your hands still fidgeting with the sleeves of your jacket. “I thought... maybe I was just being annoying.”

Wonwoo let out a soft sigh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Y/N... you weren’t being annoying. I just didn’t know how to respond to you, okay?” His voice softened further, a hint of frustration in it now, but not at you—at himself, maybe. "I didn't know what you wanted from me."

You stared at him, unsure what to say. His words were hitting you in a way you hadn’t expected, and the confusion that had been gnawing at you for so long started to ebb, replaced by a different kind of uncertainty.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

He looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed by his own admission, but then his gaze returned to yours. “I didn’t know how to. It’s easier for me to just... not talk about these things." He paused, then gave you a small, almost hesitant smile. "But I’m trying, okay?”

The sincerity in his words made your chest ache, and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, but at the same time, it was replaced by something new—something you weren’t sure you were ready for.

“So... what now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, almost afraid of the answer.

Wonwoo stepped closer, a subtle movement that somehow felt like the most intimate thing. His expression was still calm, but there was a softness in it now that made your heart race. “Now, we talk. No more running away.”

You didn’t know what that would mean for you, for him, for whatever this was between you. But right now, it felt like you might finally be able to stop avoiding the truth.

You find yourself sitting across him at a diner outside campus. The booth was cozy, the dim lighting giving the place a warm, inviting atmosphere. But despite the warmth of the surroundings, you felt cold. The walls you’d carefully built around yourself seemed to be crumbling, and the closer you got to Wonwoo, the more vulnerable you felt.

You hadn’t said much since you’d arrived, your gaze bouncing around the diner, avoiding his eyes whenever they found yours.

Wonwoo, however, was watching you with quiet amusement, his gaze flickering between you and the menu in his hands. He could tell you were uncomfortable, restlessly fiddling with your hands, your eyes constantly darting away whenever he caught you looking at him.

"Hey," he finally said, his voice calm but carrying a teasing edge. "You seem a little... tense."

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond, but before you could say anything, you noticed your own body language—a slight fidget, your shoulders stiff, your legs crossed tightly. You shifted in your seat, trying to make yourself comfortable, but it wasn’t working. You couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze on you.

“I... I just don’t like sitting across from people,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze still averted. “It’s too much pressure, I guess.”

Wonwoo didn’t hesitate. Without saying a word, he slid out of the booth, shifting to the side next to you. The movement was casual, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. He wasn’t judging you for your discomfort. Instead, he was meeting you halfway, making you feel... seen.

He settled beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he leaned back against the booth, a relaxed smile spreading across his face. He was so close now, and you felt a sudden rush of warmth flood your chest. Your heart skipped a beat, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves. It was from the unexpected comfort of his presence.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low and surprisingly gentle, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of unease.

You nodded, but this time, you didn’t shy away from meeting his gaze. The proximity made everything feel a little more real, a little more grounded. And, for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel the need to run away.

“Yeah,” you murmured, still a little flustered, but this time, the smile on your lips was more genuine, more relaxed. “This feels better.”

Wonwoo smirked, clearly pleased with your response, but there was a softness in his eyes that made your chest tighten. “Good,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable around me.”

“So…” You hesitated for a moment, still unsure of how to navigate this new dynamic between you. “What now?”

Wonwoo’s gaze softened, and he shrugged casually, though his eyes held a certain sincerity. “Now, we eat, and we talk. You don’t have to worry about running away anymore.” He paused, then added with a small smile, “And no more avoiding me, okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. This wasn’t going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, you were ready to start figuring things out—with him, and with yourself.

You nodded slowly, the silence between you wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t easy, either. It felt like there were a thousand unspoken words hanging in the air, and neither of you knew how to address them.

Then, Wonwoo spoke, his voice calm and steady. “What’s your go-to drink order?”

You blinked, startled by the question. Out of all the things he could’ve asked, that wasn’t what you expected. “Uh…” You hesitated, glancing at him briefly before looking back down at your hands. “Probably... iced vanilla latte. Or banana milk,” you added with a nervous laugh, gesturing to the nearly empty carton in front of you, you pulled it out of your bag a few minutes ago.

Wonwoo nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I figured you liked banana milk. I see you drinking it a lot.”

Your cheeks heated up at his observation, and you ducked your head, suddenly very aware of how closely he paid attention to you. “Yeah, it’s kind of a comfort drink,” you admitted softly. “What about you?”

“Americano,” he replied easily. “No sugar.”

You scrunched your nose at that, and Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle at your reaction. “What?” he teased. “Not a fan of bitter drinks?”

“Not really,” you admitted, daring a quick glance at him before looking away again. “I like sweet things.”

Wonwoo tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving you. “What’s your favorite dessert?”

You bit your lip, trying to think. The way he was watching you so intently made your brain feel foggy, and it was hard to focus. “Probably... cheesecake,” you finally said. “Strawberry cheesecake.”

He hummed thoughtfully, as if filing that piece of information away. “Strawberry cheesecake,” he repeated, his voice soft. “Noted.”

“Why are you asking me this?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Wonwoo shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just trying to get to know you better.”

That answer caught you off guard. You looked down at your lap, your hands twisting nervously. “But... why?”

He didn’t answer right away, and when you finally gathered the courage to look up at him, you found him watching you with a softness in his eyes that made your heart ache. “Because I want to,” he said simply, his voice quiet but certain.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you quickly looked away again, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and you could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Wonwoo didn’t push you to say anything else. He let the silence settle again, but it didn’t feel as heavy this time. It felt... different. Like he was giving you space to process, to breathe.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe he wasn’t as far out of reach as you’d always thought.

It's suppose to be another normal day. You're in class, sitting next to MImi still feeling sleepy but then something slides infront of you.

You stared at the banana milk on your desk like it had suddenly sprouted wings. Slowly, you turned back to look at Wonwoo, who was casually flipping through his notebook like this was the most normal thing in the world.

Mimi, sitting to your right, nudged your arm, her expression a mix of confusion and barely-contained glee. “What’s going on?” she whispered, her eyes darting between you and Wonwoo like she was trying to piece together a crime scene.

“I have no idea,” you whispered back

You leaned slightly toward Wonwoo, lowering your voice as much as possible. “What are you doing?”

“Attending class,” he replied, not even looking up from his notebook. His tone was so calm, so casual, that for a moment you thought you’d imagined him moving seats altogether.

“Here?” you pressed, glancing over your shoulder again to see his friends Vernon and Minghao, who were both watching the two of you with poorly hidden smirks. Minghao even gave you a small wave, which only made you more flustered.

Wonwoo finally looked at you, his expression as neutral as ever. “Why not?”

Before you could respond, he nudged the banana milk closer to you. “You like this, right?”

You blinked down at the carton, your brain short-circuiting. “I... yeah, but—”

“Then drink it.” His tone was soft but firm, leaving no room for argument.

Beside you, Mimi’s jaw was practically on the floor. “Okay, what is going on here?” she hissed under her breath, leaning closer to you. “Did you bribe him? Threaten him? Sell your soul to some matchmaking demon?”

“I don’t know!” you whispered back, your voice frantic as you stared at the banana milk like it held all the answers to life’s mysteries.

Wonwoo, clearly aware of the hushed conversation happening beside him, leaned back in his chair and glanced at Mimi. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his calm demeanor never faltering.

Mimi froze, her eyes wide as she realized he was addressing her directly. “Uh, no? Nothing’s wrong,” she stammered, clearly trying to play it cool. “Just... curious, that’s all.”

Wonwoo nodded, satisfied with her answer, and turned his attention back to his notebook, leaving you and Mimi to exchange bewildered looks.

The rest of the class passed in a blur. You were hyper-aware of Wonwoo’s presence beside you, the subtle sound of him turning pages, the occasional shift in his seat, even the faint scent of his cologne. You couldn’t focus on the lecture to save your life, and every time you caught Mimi looking at you, she wiggled her eyebrows in a way that made you want to crawl under the desk.

When the class finally ended, you quickly packed up your things, eager to escape before your brain completely melted. But as you stood up, Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Walk with me,” he said, his tone more of a statement than a question.

You glanced at Mimi, who was watching the scene unfold with wide eyes and a grin that was far too smug for your liking. “Go ahead,” she said, waving you off. “I’ll meet you later.”

Before you could argue, Wonwoo gently tugged your wrist, guiding you toward the door. You followed him, your heart racing as you wondered what on earth he was up to now.

You were half jogging to keep up with Wonwoo’s long strides, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist as he led you through the campus. It wasn’t like he was walking that fast—it was just that his legs were ridiculously long compared to yours.

Your steps were hurried, almost clumsy, as you tried to keep up. “Wonwoo,” you huffed, glancing at his back, “can you slow down? Not all of us have tree trunks for legs, you know.”

He glanced back at you, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “We’ll be late if I slow down,” he said simply, but his pace did ease up slightly.

It was almost cute—too cute, honestly. The height difference, the way you had to trudge along behind him like a kid trying to keep up. And then there was him: calm, composed, and acting like dragging you to your next class was just a normal, everyday occurrence.

By the time you reached the door of your classroom, you were slightly out of breath. Wonwoo, of course, looked as unbothered as ever. He gently let go of your wrist and gestured for you to go in.

“Go,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

You blinked up at him, confused. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To my class,” he replied, as though it was obvious.

You frowned, gesturing vaguely in the direction you had just come from. “Your class isn’t here?”

“Nope,” he said, already turning on his heel to walk away. “It’s on the other side of campus.”

You stared at him, your jaw dropping. “The opposite side?”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder to meet your incredulous gaze. “Yeah,” he said nonchalantly.

“Then why did you—” You cut yourself off, not even sure how to finish the sentence.

Wonwoo just shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Felt like walking you,” he said simply, as though it was no big deal.

And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing at the door of your classroom, completely flustered and at a loss for words.

What is he doing to me? you thought, burying your face in your hands. Whatever game Wonwoo was playing, it was definitely working.

This new routine had become so normal that you almost stopped questioning it—not that you were any less flustered every time Wonwoo waited for you after class or walked you across campus. It was just easier to let it happen, even if your heart constantly felt like it was doing somersaults. Mimi teased you endlessly about it, of course, but you’d stopped trying to defend yourself. What could you even say?

One afternoon, just as class was ending, Wonwoo approached you while you were packing up your things. You were expecting him to grab his bag and lead you out of the room like usual, but instead, he hesitated.

“I have something to do after class today,” he said, his voice soft yet direct, his hands casually shoved into his pockets. “I can’t drive you home.”

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Oh, that’s okay. I can just—”

“Wait,” he interrupted, giving you a look that made you freeze. “Are you going to walk home alone?”

You faltered, unsure how to answer. “I mean, it’s not that far...”

He frowned at that, clearly not liking your response. “I don’t like the idea of you walking home alone.”

Your heart did a little flip at his words, but you quickly brushed it off, waving your hand dismissively. “It’s really fine, Wonwoo. I’ve walked home alone before.”

“Not anymore,” he said firmly, pulling out his phone.

You raised an eyebrow as he started dialing, wondering what on earth he was doing. “What are you—”

“Hey,” he said into the phone, cutting you off. “Where are you right now? Can you drive someone home for me?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he really calling someone just to make sure you didn’t walk home alone?

A few moments later, he hung up and turned back to you. “Vernon and Minghao are nearby. They’ll drive you home.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, your voice rising slightly in disbelief. “Wonwoo, you don’t have to—”

“I already did,” he said simply, grabbing his bag. “They’ll meet you outside in five minutes. Just wait for them, okay?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look he gave you stopped you in your tracks. It wasn’t stern, exactly, but it was... serious. Protective. Like he genuinely wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to you.

You sighed, realizing there was no point in arguing. “Fine,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

He softened at that, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good. I’ll text you later.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind reeling.

When you made your way outside, Vernon and Minghao were waiting by Vernon’s car, both of them looking far too amused for your liking.

“So,” Vernon said, leaning casually against the hood of the car, “you’re the one Wonwoo’s been babying lately.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Can we not talk about this?”

Minghao chuckled, opening the passenger door for you. “Don’t worry, we won’t tease you too much. Wonwoo’s been... different lately, though. It’s kind of interesting to watch.”

“Different how?” you asked, sliding into the car and buckling your seatbelt.

Vernon smirked as he started the engine. “Let’s just say you bring out a side of him we didn’t know existed.”

You couldn’t decide if that made you feel flattered or even more flustered. Either way, as they drove you home, you couldn’t stop thinking about the lengths Wonwoo had gone to just to make sure you were safe. And even though it was embarrassing, a small, shy smile found its way to your lips.

Later that night, just as you were about to settle into bed, your phone buzzed with an incoming call. You blinked at the screen, momentarily stunned when you saw the name.

Wonwoo.

Your heart immediately started racing. He had texted you before, sure, but calling? This was new. Hesitantly, you picked up, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice was deep and smooth, laced with a certain warmth that made you grip your phone a little tighter. “Did you get home okay?”

You felt your lips twitch into a smile despite yourself. “Yeah, Vernon and Minghao dropped me off. You really didn’t have to go that far, you know.”

“I did,” he said simply. “I told you, I don’t like you walking alone.”

There was something about the way he said it—calm, steady, certain—that made your chest feel warm. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the giddy feeling bubbling inside you.

Instead, you changed the subject. “How was your thing after class? You never said what it was.”

“Just something for a group project,” he answered. “It took longer than I expected.”

You hummed in understanding. “That sucks.”

He let out a quiet chuckle. “Yeah. Anyway, how was your day?”

At that, you perked up, launching into a detailed retelling of everything that had happened since class. You told him about Mimi’s latest antics, how she nearly got into an argument with a professor because she was convinced she turned in her assignment when she actually hadn’t. You talked about how Vernon and Minghao teased you the whole car ride home, about the new café you wanted to try, and even the silly little things that made you laugh that day.

Somewhere along the way, you noticed he had gone quiet.

“Wonwoo?” you called, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Are you still there?”

There was a pause, then his voice came through the speaker—soft, almost gentle.

“Go on, I’m listening.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

There was something different about the way he said it. He wasn’t just saying it to fill the silence. He meant it. He liked listening to you.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, but you pushed forward, finishing your story despite how shy you suddenly felt.

When you finally ran out of things to say, he let out a contented hum. “You should get some rest,” he murmured. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your heart melted at how soft his voice was. “Okay,” you said quietly.

“Goodnight,” he added, and you swore you could hear the smallest smile in his voice.

“Goodnight, Wonwoo.”

The call ended, and for a moment, you just sat there, staring at your phone. Then, all at once, the emotions hit you like a tidal wave.

You let out a loud groan, grabbed your pillow, and screamed into it.

“What are you doing to me, Jeon Wonwoo?!”

Your pillow, of course, had no answers. But one thing was clear—you were so doomed.

It's a few weeks later, you're at the cafe you frequently hang out when you have free time. The usual, you're on your yapping mode while Wonwoo listens. But then you said something you didn't mean to tell him.

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze.

You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It was just one of those things you only ever admitted to Mimi—how you were so confused about what was going on between you and Wonwoo.

But now, you had just said it. Right in front of him.

Your heart stopped.

Slowly, hesitantly, you turned to look at him.

Wonwoo was already staring at you, that small, amused smile still lingering on his lips—but his eyes held something else. Something unreadable.

For the first time, he didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t tease you, didn’t brush it off. He just watched you, as if he was carefully thinking about what to say.

You scrambled to fix it. “I-I mean—” you let out a nervous laugh, waving your hands. “Forget I said that! It was just, um, something stupid I told Mimi—”

Wonwoo tilted his head, his gaze still locked on you. “You’re confused?” he asked, his voice calm.

You swallowed. “I mean... yeah?”

Silence.

The tension was unbearable. Your heart was practically screaming in your chest.

Finally, he leaned back, eyes flickering to the coffee in front of him. Then, after a long pause, he spoke again.

“What do you want us to be?”

Your breath hitched.

You stared at him, unsure if you heard him correctly. Your mind raced, completely unprepared for the question.

“I—” you fumbled, gripping the edge of your sleeves. “I don’t know...”

Another pause. Then, he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Liar.”

Your head snapped up. “Excuse me?!”

Wonwoo met your gaze again, eyes knowing, almost too knowing. He didn’t look mad. If anything, he looked fond—like he had already figured out the answer before you even realized it yourself.

Your face burned. “I’m not lying—”

“You’ve liked me for a long time.” His voice was so casual, so matter-of-fact, that it left you speechless.

Your entire body tensed.

Oh my god.

He knew.

Of course, he knew.

Everyone knew. You knew he knew. But hearing him say it so bluntly, with no hesitation—it made your stomach flip.

You wanted to disappear.

“I—” You swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at him. “Okay, so maybe that’s true, but—”

“But?” He was still watching you, waiting.

“But I don’t know what you want.” The words came out smaller than you intended, but they were honest. “You... you’re always around now, Wonwoo. You drive me home, you wait for me after class, you listen to me ramble all the time. I just—” You bit your lip. “I don’t know what that means to you.”

Another silence.

Wonwoo didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he reached for his coffee, taking a slow sip. Then, with the same infuriatingly calm expression, he set it back down, resting his chin against his palm as he gazed at you.

And then—

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Your hands clenched under the table, heart pounding in your ears. You knew what he was implying, you felt what he was saying without words, but you still couldn’t believe it.

And Wonwoo—knowing you so well—could see that.

So, he leaned in slightly, his voice quieter this time.

“I wouldn’t do all of this if you weren’t special to me.”

Your brain short-circuited.

You felt like your heart had stopped entirely, like you had forgotten how to breathe.

Jeon Wonwoo—who had spent years acting nonchalant toward you—was now sitting here, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You didn’t know what to say.

So, naturally, you panicked.

“I—um—I need to go to the bathroom!” you blurted out, shoving your chair back as you stood up abruptly.

Wonwoo blinked, a bit startled, before letting out a soft chuckle. “You’re running away?”

“I am not running away!”

“You’re literally running away.”

“I need to pee!” you lied, voice high-pitched as you quickly turned toward the restroom.

Behind you, you heard Wonwoo laugh—actually laugh—before calling out, “I’ll be here when you get back.”

You groaned, covering your face as you rushed away.

This was too much.

Jeon Wonwoo was too much.

When you finally gathered the courage to come back, your heart was still hammering in your chest. You had taken extra minutes in the restroom just to stare at yourself in the mirror, mentally screaming and trying to convince yourself to act normal.

Except—how could you act normal after what just happened?

You cautiously made your way back to the booth, and there he was—Wonwoo, sitting comfortably with one arm draped over the back of the seat, sipping his drink as if he hadn't just dropped that bomb on you.

And then, when he noticed you, his lips curled into that teasing smile.

“You good?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “Took you a while.”

Your face heated.

“I had to—um, you know—actually pee.” You sat down stiffly, eyes fixed on the table.

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t look convinced at all.

You fidgeted, not knowing what to say. Now that you knew he felt something for you, you had no idea how to act around him. You weren’t prepared for this. You had spent so long assuming your feelings were one-sided that the moment he admitted otherwise, your brain completely shut down.

And Wonwoo—of course—noticed.

He watched you with that quiet amusement, letting the silence stretch between you. Then, after a beat, he spoke again.

“Are you still confused?”

Your breath caught.

You looked up at him—finally meeting his gaze—and you regretted it immediately because he was already staring at you.

His dark eyes, calm and steady, held a kind of certainty that made your stomach flip.

“I—” You swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Wonwoo hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head slightly. “I see.”

You thought that would be the end of it, that he would back off and give you time to process—but no.

Instead, he leaned in.

Not dramatically, not forcefully. Just enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence, enough that your breath hitched and your hands curled into fists in your lap.

Then, in a voice so quiet that it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered,

“Then tell me…”

His eyes flickered to your lips before locking back onto yours.

“What do you want me to be?”

Your brain short-circuited.

Your body went completely still.

The weight of the question—the meaning behind it—hit you all at once, and suddenly, everything felt too real.

Wonwoo was still watching you, waiting, his face unfairly close to yours. He wasn’t teasing anymore. He wasn’t joking. He was giving you the choice—asking you to decide what this was between you.

And you…

You had no idea how to answer.

Because for the first time ever—

You realized that your silly little crush wasn’t so one-sided after all.

Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you were sure he could hear it.

What did you want him to be?

For so long, you had thought the answer was simple—you wanted him, you always had. But now that he was actually asking you, the words caught in your throat.

You were frozen, caught between the overwhelming weight of your long-time feelings and the terrifying reality of facing them head-on.

Wonwoo didn’t move. He was still leaning close, his dark eyes fixed on yours, waiting patiently. He wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing you to answer, but that only made it worse.

You wanted to say something, anything, but all that came out was a small, breathless,

“I—”

And then you panicked.

Your body moved before your brain could catch up—you quickly grabbed your drink and took the biggest gulp imaginable, as if that would somehow wash away the moment.

It didn’t.

Instead, Wonwoo let out a quiet chuckle, finally leaning back, giving you space.

“You’re cute when you panic.”

You almost choked.

“I’m not panicking,” you sputtered, setting your drink down with a little too much force.

His lips twitched, clearly not believing you. “So, what’s your answer?”

“I—” You exhaled, gripping the hem of your shirt. “This is a lot, okay? You just—you never made it seem like you liked me before, and now you’re—” You gestured vaguely at him. “—doing all this and it’s messing with my brain.”

Wonwoo tilted his head, looking at you with quiet curiosity. “I never made it seem like I liked you?”

You gave him a look.

He hummed, gaze flickering downward for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “That’s not true.”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“I just… don’t show it the way you do.” He said it so casually, so matter-of-fact, as if it was something you should’ve known all along.

You stared at him, your brain struggling to process his words.

And then, as if to prove his point, Wonwoo reached out—his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment before he grabbed your wrist, gently pulling your hand closer to him.

Your breath hitched.

“Do you really think I would’ve let just anyone take care of me the way you did?” His voice was lower now, softer, as his thumb absentmindedly traced slow circles against the back of your hand. “I noticed, you know. Every time you saved me a seat, every time you gave me something without expecting anything in return.”

You swallowed thickly.

Wonwoo glanced down at your intertwined hands, as if realizing he was still holding you. But instead of letting go, he gave your fingers a small, almost hesitant squeeze.

“I didn’t ignore it because I didn’t care,” he admitted. “I just… didn’t know how to respond.”

The confession made something in your chest tighten.

Wonwoo had always been unreadable to you—his quiet, nonchalant demeanor making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. But now, sitting here with him, listening to him actually talk about his feelings, you realized that he wasn’t cold at all. He was just careful.

He let out a quiet sigh. “But when you stopped…” His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “I didn’t like that.”

You blinked. “You didn’t?”

He shook his head. “No.”

It was such a simple response, yet it made your heart race all over again.

There was a small beat of silence before he spoke again, quieter this time.

“I missed you.”

Your chest ached.

All this time, you had thought your feelings were a burden to him—that he barely noticed you, let alone missed you. But here he was, telling you otherwise, proving you wrong in the gentlest way possible.

Your fingers curled around his, gripping back.

“…I missed you too.”

Wonwoo smiled, the kind of small, rare smile that made your stomach flip.

“So,” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, “are you still confused?”

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. “…Maybe.”

He chuckled. “Then should I make it clearer?”

You sucked in a breath when he leaned in again, just close enough that you could see the soft curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes.

His gaze flickered to your mouth, then back to your eyes.

“What do you want me to be?” he asked again, voice barely above a whisper.

"Do I have to answer now?"

Wonwoo just smiled at your question. That soft, knowing kind of smile that made your stomach do flips.

“Take your time,” he said simply, "You waited for me, without expecting anything. It's my turn now" he tells you.

You could barely meet his eyes, your fingers twitching against his. “I just—this is a lot, okay?”

“I know.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles in a soothing motion. “That’s why I’m letting you decide.”

That didn’t help at all.

You groaned internally, dropping your forehead onto the table in defeat. “You’re making this so much worse, Jeon Wonwoo.”

He chuckled, and you could feel his amusement. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

“You’re the one blushing like crazy.”

“Shut up.”

He laughed again, and you hated how much you loved the sound.

After a moment, you hesitantly lifted your head, still unable to look at him directly. “…So, you’re not gonna, like, be weird about this?”

“Nope.”

“You’re not gonna pressure me?”

“No.”

“You’re just gonna… wait?”

Wonwoo leaned back against the booth, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours. “As long as you need me to, as long as you want me here”

Your breath hitched.

Oh.

You bit your lip, feeling your heart squeeze at his words.

“…Okay,” you mumbled.

“Okay?”

You nodded shyly, finally—finally—glancing up at him. “I’ll think about it.”

His lips twitched, amused. “Good.”

And then, like it was the easiest thing in the world, Wonwoo lifted your hand to his lips and pressed the lightest, softest kiss against your knuckles.

Your brain completely shut down.

“You—” You squeaked, yanking your hand back as if you had just been electrocuted.

Wonwoo just smirked.

“Take your time,” he repeated, looking way too satisfied with himself. “I’ll wait.”

And you knew—you knew—that no matter how much you tried to think about it, your heart had already decided.

[chxnsgirl]

Hey… this is random but like… how do you think SKZ boys would react to fem!reader wanting/mentioning period sex to help with cramps?

🫣🤔

skz reacting to fem reader asking for period sex

this is honestly something i've thought about a lot so im glad you asked this LOL . anyways here's my take ♡ masterlist ♡

channie ♡

chan would be very understanding and prioritize your comfort. he’d check in to make sure you really want it and aren't just asking because you feel like you should find relief that way. if you're sure, he’d be gentle, reassuring, and very focused on making you feel good rather than just jumping into it.

lino ♡

minho wouldn’t be fazed at all. he’d probably tease you a little—“so you do need me, huh?”—but he’d be all in if you wanted it. he’s the type to be casual about it, making sure you're comfortable but also confident enough to go through with it without hesitation.

changbin ♡

changbin would want to help relieve your cramps, but he might hesitate at first, making sure you're really okay with it. he’d be the type to double-check things like “are you sure you’ll feel better?” and “you don’t think it’ll be uncomfortable?” once reassured, though, he’d be fully focused on making it a comforting and intimate experience.

hyunjin ♡

hyunjin would initially be surprised but quickly shift into a passionate and devoted mode. he’d see it as an opportunity to take care of you while also deepening your intimacy. he’d be extra gentle but still make it romantic, whispering sweet things and making sure you feel desired even if you're not feeling your best.

hannie ♡

han would get so flustered at first, maybe even laughing out of nervousness before realizing you're being serious. he’d ask a million questions—“wait, does that really help?”—before ultimately agreeing because he loves you and wants to make you feel better. once he’s reassured, he’d be surprisingly tender and sweet about it.

felix ♡

felix would immediately be on board if you wanted it, but he’d also make sure you're comfortable in every way—offering to run a bath afterward, getting a towel ready, making sure you don't feel self-conscious. he’d focus more on the emotional intimacy, making it a comforting and soothing experience rather than just physical relief.

seungmin ♡

seungmin would raise an eyebrow and ask, “that actually works?” he’d be a little skeptical at first, but if you really wanted it, he wouldn’t be opposed. he’d probably joke a little—“there are less messy ways to help, you know”—but ultimately, he’d do whatever makes you feel better.

jeongin ♡

jeongin would likely be the most hesitant at first, simply because he’s more reserved. he’d ask a lot of questions to make sure you're completely okay with it and might need reassurance himself. however, if you were comfortable and confident about it, he’d eventually agree—though he might still be a little shy about the whole thing.

taglist: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek @babigriin @tirena1

[teukiemomo]

It is true I didn't follow the US politics before the election. This is just based on what I've seen so far since the election (since like the debate where Trump said questionable things about dog and cat eating since that kinda blew up everywhere lol):

As far as I know Fox News is Trump's ass-kisser. CNN is the opposite. NBC, MSNBC are anti Trump's dumb things which are... all Trump's things. I'm not sure what their usual stance is before the election, but during the election it was kinda like Fox News vs. everyone (it still is now). And based on what I've seen so far on Fox News their correspondences sound so... insensitive and delusional I'd immediately question their professionalism and therefore no longer trust whatever excuse they make for Trump.

Late night shows hosts are very against Trump. They dissed him every time I saw them on youtube and this is like every night? Some of them do sound unserious so people may disregard them, but Jon Stewart and John Oliver are 2 people whom I think really look into the issues like Project 2025, gun issue, inflation, crime etc. and bring evidences to the table, lots of times, to expose Trump. Both are also very critical of Dems on certain issues but often pointed out how Trump is always the worse option. With that much exposure to Trump's darkness (and, like, with proofs) I honestly thought the result would go the other way. Unless there's something I missed.

Twitter - I know there's an agenda pushed there 'thanks to' Elon Musk but somehow most of the posts showing up on my 'For You' are against right-wing extremists, like I don't even follow, like or retweet any political tweets that should make the algorithm swing that way (and gosh I WISH they could've done the same for my favourite artist, I like him and somehow they only show tweets talking shit about him, like Elon DO BETTER PLZ?) Anyways, my point is, even on a platform that is so blatantly right-wing, I'm still able to see that many tweets (with actual proofs, logical arguments etc.) criticise Trump, warn about Trump and his ppl, etc. that reach huge amount of engagement on Twitter, I was kinda under the impression that whatever right-wing propaganda on Twitter wasn't really working that well.

Trump is just... idk after those 4 years of bad-mouthing everything everywhere, fumbling Covid terribly, leaving White House with a coup, getting into another election running his mouth about dog eating cat eating, 'i'mma do this to women don't matter if like it or not', 'criminals coming from prisons and insane asylums', convicted felony, convicted rapist, proposal to get rid of Dep of Education, performing oral thingy with the mic on stage (??????), etc. Evidences of him doing stupid shit, saying stupid shit are like everywhere, and most things he said can be easily proven a lie by a simple google search. People may be disappointed at the Dems and hate the establishment, but how a man like Trump can be a better choice, under any circumstance, seems... baffling. Lots of ppl seem to choose him for the economy, which actually can be debunked by looking at other countries after Covid and Russia-Ukraine; inflation was a common issue, and the stats showed it's already gone down considerably at the time of the election. To me it just seems very easy to figure out all the arguments Trump used are pretty bullshit: no pro free speech person will bash and threaten to harm people who don't talk nicely about him, no 'America-first' person will ever spread lies and lead a coup, and never trust a multi-billionnaire when he says he's all for the working class.

I'm not saying the US mainstream media is not to blame, or the Dems is not to blame. They should've done a better job, but at the same time, the US is one of the countries where it's easier to see through propaganda. Freedom to access information and opinions from a wide range of perspectives with little restriction is a privilege some other countries don't even have.

I'm not from the US, I only made this comment based on what I've seen, and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one outside of America who experienced this bewilderment. But if I've missed something, I'm willing to learn.

Gotta admit the headline is a banger.

[thedensworld]

No Big Deal | L. Jh

Genre: fluff, dad au!

Summary: At the end of the day, both of you are a team. Even it sounds like a no big deal, it should be discussed.

Kim Mingyu had just become a father, and the entire group was ecstatic. Finally, the ever-enthusiastic, kid-loving Mingyu had a child of his own—one he could pour all his affection into instead of borrowing everyone else’s. The mood was lighthearted, laughter and clinking glasses filling the air as everyone gathered for a celebratory dinner.

Between bites of grilled meat and sips of soju, the topic naturally shifted to parenting.

"How do you even raise a kid properly when they’re growing up?" Mingyu mused, his eyes full of wonder.

The members who already had children began chiming in, eagerly sharing their own experiences and philosophies. Meanwhile, the single ones remained largely unbothered, focused on their food and drinks, merely listening in amusement.

Then, out of nowhere, Seungcheol turned to Jihoon.

"How about you, Jihoon? Do you scold your daughter?"

Jihoon, caught off guard, blinked in surprise. He wasn’t expecting to be pulled into the discussion so suddenly.

Jihoon was a father of two—a five-year-old son, Junho, and a three-year-old daughter, Jena. His children were widely adored, even by Mingyu, who often declared them to be the easiest kids to take care of. They were well-behaved, gentle, and polite—traits they no doubt inherited from both of their parents. It was hard not to love them.

Jeonghan, the ever-observant older member, leaned back with a knowing smirk. "There’s always a difference in how a father treats his son versus his daughter," he commented. "No matter how hard you try, you just can’t bring yourself to scold a daughter the same way."

Joshua and Jun nodded in agreement, chuckling.

Seungcheol, however, wasn’t convinced. "If I need to scold them, I scold them," he stated firmly.

Jeonghan chuckled. "That’s because you only have daughter. It’s different when you have both. Jihoon, what do you think?"

Jihoon let out a sigh, thinking back. Had he ever actually scolded Jena? He honestly couldn’t remember. Every time she looked up at him with those big, glistening eyes and her plump, rosy cheeks, he felt himself melt. Her giggles could soften even the hardest of hearts.

But Junho? Oh, he had plenty of memories of scolding Junho. When Junho made a mess, he scolded him. When Junho tripped over a cable, he scolded him. It wasn’t that he loved one child more than the other—it was just different.

"I think Jeonghan hyung has a point," Jihoon admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "I don’t think I’ve ever actually raised my voice at Jena… but with Junho, it happens naturally. I don’t even think about it, it just comes out."

The table erupted into laughter, knowing nods exchanged between the fathers.

"See?" Jeonghan grinned. "Daughters just have their dads wrapped around their fingers."

Jihoon sighed, taking a sip of his drink. "Yeah… it’s dangerous."

The conversation continued, filled with more stories, advice, and teasing remarks, but Jihoon couldn’t help but glance at his phone, where his lock screen displayed a photo of Junho and Jena together—smiling brightly, unaware of just how much power they had over their father’s heart.

"Are the kids asleep already?" Jihoon asked as he stepped inside, setting down his bag and spotting you curled up on the couch with a book in hand.

You turned your head toward him, a soft smile gracing your lips. "They've been asleep for a while now," you replied, glancing at the clock. "It's way past their bedtime."

Jihoon bit his lip, guilt creeping in as he realized how late it was. "Sorry, love. Seungcheol hyung wouldn’t let anyone leave early," he murmured, making his way to you. He plopped down beside you, wasting no time in wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

You ran your fingers through his hair, letting his head rest against your shoulder. "It must've been fun, though. It's been a while since you guys had a gathering like that."

Jihoon hummed in agreement, his voice laced with exhaustion and amusement. "Mingyu was absolutely ecstatic about having a daughter. We even started listing potential names for her."

You chuckled, already knowing how ridiculous things could get when the group brainstormed anything. "Don't tell me someone suggested 'Bap.'"

Jihoon pulled away just enough to look at you, laughing as he nodded. "Oh, absolutely. We threw in every possible name that could go with Kim. It was chaotic."

Shaking your head in amusement, you leaned into him. "It sounds like kids were the main topic of the night."

"Pretty much," Jihoon admitted. "We ended up discussing a lot of parenting stuff—it was actually pretty informative. I can't believe how much the guys have changed now that they’re married." He let out a soft chuckle, still wrapping his mind around the fact that his once carefree bandmates were now giving fatherhood advice.

You smirked. "I bet Wonwoo, Dino, Vernon, and Seungkwan struggled to keep up with that conversation."

Jihoon grinned, nodding. "Oh, they were completely in their own world. The world of being single."

You playfully smacked his arm. "Don't make fun of them," you scolded, though the amused glint in your eyes betrayed you.

Jihoon only smiled, his gaze softening as he cupped your face. Without another word, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a lingering kiss, one that carried both affection and exhaustion.

When he pulled back, his voice was a gentle murmur. "Let's go to bed, love. You must be tired too."

With a small nod, you set your book aside, letting Jihoon pull you up with him. Wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, you followed him to your shared room, ready to end the long day in the comfort of each other’s arms.

*

"Hey, there's no need to scold her. It's not a big deal," Jihoon muttered, his voice carrying a slight edge.

It was his day off, and the two of you were sitting on the couch, finally enjoying some downtime. That peace was short-lived when Jena toddled over, her big, pleading eyes locked onto Jihoon.

"Daddy, can I have a candy?" she asked, her tiny hands clutching his arm.

Jihoon glanced at the clock—almost lunchtime. "Not right now, sweetheart. You’ll spoil your appetite."

Jena's pout deepened, and she tugged on his sleeve. He hesitated, but eventually, he caved, slipping her a small piece of candy.

That should have been the end of it—except she came back for more.

This time, you were in the room.

"Jena," you said, your tone patient but firm. "If you eat candy now, you won’t enjoy your lunch."

Jena didn’t like your response. Her expression twisted, and within seconds, she burst into tears, her tiny frame shaking as she threw herself into a tantrum. You let her cry, waiting for her to calm down, but when the wailing only grew louder, you had enough.

"You won’t get anything you want by throwing a tantrum, Jena," you said, your voice sharp enough to cut through the noise. "If you want something, ask politely. And if someone says no, it’s because they have a reason—a reason that’s good for you."

Jihoon shifted beside you. "She’s just a kid," he muttered, crossing his arms.

You turned to him fully, your patience thinning. "That’s exactly why she needs to learn now. If we keep giving in, she’s going to think crying is a way to get what she wants."

Jihoon sighed, rubbing his temples. "I just don’t see why it had to be such a big deal. It was one piece of candy."

Your jaw tightened. "It’s not about the candy, Jihoon. It’s about discipline. She needs to understand that rules exist for a reason."

He exhaled heavily, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I get that, but you don’t have to be so strict about it."

You scoffed, crossing your arms. "And you don’t have to be so soft just because she’s cute. You’re teaching her that she can get her way if she looks at you the right way. Do you want that to become a habit?"

Jihoon didn’t respond immediately, his gaze flickering between you and Jena, who had finally calmed down and wandered off to join Junho, drawing sea creatures on the DIY board Mingyu had made.

After a long pause, he sighed. "I just don’t like seeing her cry."

Your expression softened slightly, but you held your ground. "Neither do I. But I'd rather deal with a few tears now than have her grow up thinking she can manipulate people to get her way."

Jihoon leaned back against the couch, running a hand through his hair. He hated to admit it, but you had a point. Still, a part of him felt torn.

Days later, Jihoon was sitting in his studio, lost in the rhythm of a song he was working on. Jena sat comfortably on his lap, bouncing along to the beat with a wide grin, her tiny hands clapping excitedly. Jihoon couldn’t help but smile at her, the warmth of fatherhood settling deep in his chest.

A sudden knock at the door pulled him from the moment. He turned just in time to see you walk in, your brows furrowed in concern. Without hesitation, you scooped Jena up from his lap.

"Junho is crying outside. What happened?" Your voice was firm, laced with worry.

Jihoon let out a slow sigh, already knowing this conversation was inevitable. He rested his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands together as he tried to explain.

"He was playing in here with Jena while I was working," Jihoon began, his tone calm but a little exasperated. "He tripped over one of my cables and shut my computer off."

You frowned. "And?"

"I just gave him a word or two. Nothing big."

Before you could respond, Jena reached for your face, her little hands patting your cheeks as she babbled, "Mama, don’t get mad at Daddy!"

You softened slightly, pressing a quick kiss to Jena’s forehead before setting her down and guiding her outside to play with her brother. Then, you turned back to Jihoon, crossing your arms.

"Was your file deleted?"

Jihoon sighed again, running a hand through his hair. "No, babe. But that’s not the point. This isn’t the first time it’s happened."

"He’s crying outside, Jihoon. I’ve never seen him cry that hard. You hurt his heart, babe."

Jihoon scoffed lightly, shaking his head. "It’s because you were there. He wasn’t crying because he was hurt—he was crying because he wanted you to talk to me. I know him, he’s my son."

Your eyes narrowed slightly. "How can you say that? You shouldn't invalidate his emotions like that. He's only five, Jihoon. He probably feels awful about what happened, and now he feels like he disappointed you."

Jihoon met your gaze, his own dark and steady. "I didn’t invalidate his emotions, and you know that. Just like you told me with Jena, kids need to learn. I gave him words, not punishment. He cried because he wanted your attention, not because I was too harsh on him. Why don’t you understand that?"

The room fell into a brief silence, the tension thick between you. Jihoon’s jaw was tight, and you could see the conflict in his expression—his natural instinct to be strict versus your softer approach when it came to Junho.

Your lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe he just wanted comfort."

Jihoon let out a short, humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. "And maybe he needs to understand that actions have consequences. I didn't yell at him. I didn’t punish him. I just told him to be careful, but the moment he saw you, he turned on the waterworks."

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "He's a child, Jihoon. He makes mistakes, and he looks to us for guidance—not just discipline."

Jihoon leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening. "And you think I don't know that?"

Silence stretched between you, heavy and thick.

Finally, you sighed, your voice quieter. "Just talk to him, okay? He needs to know you’re not angry at him."

Jihoon hesitated before nodding, running a hand over his face. "Yeah… okay."

You watched him for a moment longer before stepping back. "I’ll be outside... with the kids."

Jihoon sat there, staring at the closed door. His chest felt tight, not just from the tension between the two of you, but from the realization that, despite everything, he was still figuring out how to be a good father, and a good husband.

*

Later that night, the weight of the day still lingered in the air between you and Jihoon. The house was quiet, the kids fast asleep in their rooms, but the unresolved tension from earlier sat heavy on your chest as you lay in bed beside him. Jihoon was turned to the side, his back facing you slightly, his breaths steady but not quite asleep.

You sighed softly, shifting closer to him, resting your chin against his shoulder. "Jihoon..."

He hummed in acknowledgment, but he didn’t turn around.

You hesitated for a moment, then exhaled. "I’m sorry for getting upset earlier."

Jihoon finally rolled onto his back, eyes flickering open as he looked at you. "You don’t have to apologize," he murmured.

"I do," you insisted, searching his expression. "I know you weren’t trying to be too harsh with Junho. And I know you love him more than anything."

Jihoon let out a soft sigh, rubbing his face. "I just don’t want to raise him to think he can get away with things by crying," he admitted. "I don’t want him to grow up feeling entitled."

You nodded, understanding his perspective. "I get that. And I don’t want that either." You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. "But I also don’t want him to feel like he has to suppress his emotions just to be ‘strong.’ He’s still a kid, Jihoon. He’s learning how to deal with feelings, and he looks up to you so much. The way you talk to him shapes the way he sees himself."

Jihoon was silent for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. Then he turned his head toward you, his gaze softer now. "So, what do we do?"

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "We find a middle ground. You don’t have to stop disciplining him, but maybe sometimes, instead of scolding him right away, we explain things to him first. Let him understand why something was wrong before we correct him. He respects you a lot, Jihoon. If you talk to him, he’ll listen."

Jihoon sighed, but this time, it was less of frustration and more of understanding. "Yeah... You’re right." He turned fully to face you, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "I’ll try to do better."

You smiled, warmth filling your chest. "Me too."

Jihoon let out a quiet chuckle, tugging you closer until your head rested against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, his body warm against yours. "Parenting is harder than I thought," he murmured, voice laced with exhaustion.

You laughed softly. "Tell me about it."

A comfortable silence settled between you, the tension from earlier melting away. Jihoon pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Love you," he whispered.

You closed your eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull you. "Love you too."

A few days later, after much discussion, you and Jihoon decided to seek advice from a child behaviorist. It wasn’t about proving who was right or wrong—it was about understanding Junho and Jena better, about making sure you were raising them in a way that nurtured them both emotionally and mentally.

The session was eye-opening. The specialist listened to both of your parenting styles and observed how you and Jihoon interacted with the kids. At the end of the analysis, they gave you their insight.

"If raising a child is like sailing a ship," the behaviorist said, looking at both of you, "then both parents need to steer in the same direction. If one pulls to the left and the other to the right, the ship won’t move forward—it will just struggle against itself."

That line hit home.

Later that evening, after putting the kids to bed, you and Jihoon sat together at the dining table, the analysis report in front of you. Neither of you spoke at first, both processing everything.

Jihoon exhaled, rubbing his temples. "So basically, we have different methods, and we don’t talk about it enough."

You nodded, tracing the rim of your glass with your finger. "I think we both just assume we’re doing what’s best without really checking in with each other first."

Jihoon leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "It makes sense, though. You’re more patient with the kids, and I—" he sighed, "—I tend to be strict, especially with Junho."

You reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You’re not wrong for wanting to teach him responsibility. And I’m not wrong for wanting him to express himself. But if we don’t agree on how to balance that, we’ll just confuse him."

Jihoon looked down at your joined hands, then back up at you. "So, what do we do now?"

You smiled, squeezing his fingers. "We do what we should’ve done from the start. We talk. Before making a decision about the kids, we communicate. If one of us feels like the other is being too harsh or too lenient, we address it together—not in front of the kids, but privately. We back each other up so they don’t feel like they have to pick sides."

Jihoon nodded slowly, letting your words sink in. "And if we don’t agree?"

"Then we find a compromise," you said simply. "Just like we do with everything else in life."

Jihoon let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "I guess I didn’t realize how much teamwork parenting actually takes."

You smiled. "Neither did I."

He looked at you for a moment, then lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Alright, then. Let’s be better together."

You grinned. "Together."

That night, as you both lay in bed, Jihoon pulled you close, his hand resting protectively on your waist. "Thanks for pushing me to do this," he murmured.

"Thanks for meeting me halfway," you whispered back.

And just like that, the ship of your family was back on course, both of you steering it forward—together.

*

"Oh my god!" You gasped as you saw Jena clutching Junho's favorite toy—now in two broken pieces. Your heart sank as you rushed toward her, gently prying the shattered toy from her small hands. Junho, who had been sitting beside Jihoon watching his favorite TV show, turned his head at the sound of your voice.

"My robot!" Junho yelled, his face a mix of shock and devastation as he took in the sight of his broken toy.

Jena, still too young to understand the gravity of what she had done, simply turned away and began to walk off. But Junho was faster. He grabbed her wrist, turning her to face him.

"Jena, did you do this?" His voice wavered with disbelief.

Jihoon and you exchanged glances, concern flickering in your eyes. Jihoon exhaled through his nose, subtly signaling for you to stay calm.

Tears welled up in Jena’s eyes as she stood frozen by the wall, sniffling softly. Junho, however, was not done. Without another word, he stormed off toward her toy basket.

Your stomach twisted when you saw what he was after—Jena’s beloved bunny plushie. Before you could stop him, he grabbed a pair of scissors from the nearby desk and held the plushie up, placing the blade at its neck.

"No... No... No!" You rushed toward him, your heart pounding.

"Junho, stop! Revenge is not the answer!" You pleaded, blocking his way.

Jena let out a wail, running straight to you, desperately reaching for her bunny. Your thoughts raced. How had things escalated this quickly? Where had he learned this behavior?

Jihoon, now standing, swiftly stepped in. Without raising his voice, he took the plushie from Junho’s hands, his firm but calm presence instantly halting the situation.

Junho blinked up at his father, taken aback. To him, he had just wanted to scare his sister, to make her understand how it felt to lose something precious. But now, he was the one facing Jihoon’s disapproval.

Jihoon crouched to Jena’s level, his voice even. "Jena, you broke your brother’s toy. You need to say sorry."

You hesitated for a moment but then loosened your grip on her, letting her step forward. Yet, instead of apologizing, Jena stubbornly reached for her bunny in Jihoon’s grasp, her little hands stretching desperately toward it.

Jihoon sighed. "You made a mistake, Jena. If you don't take responsibility, I’ll have to throw this away."

Jena gasped, her little hands gripping the hem of your shirt as she stared at Jihoon in sheer horror. Tears welled up in her round eyes, her lower lip trembling as she realized what was happening.

"No, Daddy! No!" she cried, her voice breaking as she stomped her feet. "Not my bunny!"

You felt your chest tighten at the sight of her distress, but Jihoon remained firm, his expression unreadable as he held the plushie just out of reach.

"Then say sorry, Jena." His tone wasn’t angry, but it was resolute.

Jena sniffled, but instead of apologizing, she lunged forward, trying to climb Jihoon’s leg to reach her toy. He gently blocked her, and her frustration turned into wails.

Junho, who had been standing stiffly a few feet away, clenched his fists. His face was still tear-streaked, but now, guilt flickered in his eyes as he watched his sister fall apart. His earlier anger seemed to fade into something softer—uncertainty, maybe even regret.

Jihoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Jena, you broke your brother’s toy. It was his favorite. If you don’t take responsibility, how is that fair?"

Jena only cried harder, shaking her head furiously. "I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to!"

You crouched beside her, rubbing slow circles on her back. "Baby, I know you didn’t mean to, but when we make mistakes, we have to say sorry. That’s how we make things better."

Jena hiccuped between sobs, but she wasn’t budging.

Jihoon turned to Junho, handing him the plushie. "Junho, you tell me. Should I throw it away?"

Junho's eyes widened as he looked at the bunny in his hands. His fingers tightened around it for a second, but then he looked at his sister—her face blotchy from crying, her tiny body trembling.

Slowly, he shook his head. "No…" His voice was quiet, unsure. "Jena can't sleep without it."

Jihoon watched him carefully. "But she broke your toy. Doesn’t that mean it’s fair?"

Junho bit his lip. He glanced down at the bunny, then at Jena, then finally at you—like he was searching for the right answer. After a long moment, he let out a deep breath and walked over to his sister.

"Just be careful when you play with my toys, okay?" His voice was soft, hesitant, but sincere.

Jena sniffled, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. Then, in a flash, she threw herself at him, wrapping her little arms around his waist.

"I’m sorry, oppa!" she cried. "I didn’t mean to break your robot!"

Junho hesitated before patting her head. "Okay, okay… just don’t do it again."

You and Jihoon exchanged glances, both of you exhaling at the same time. The tension in the room slowly dissolved, replaced by something lighter—relief, maybe even pride.

*

"Woah… How does she have your attitude? She nearly refused to say sorry, babe!" you said in disbelief, a teasing lilt in your voice as you eyed Jihoon knowingly.

Jihoon raised an eyebrow, already sensing where this was going. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

You smirked. "She has the pride of Lee Jihoon."

Jihoon let out a chuckle, shaking his head before pulling you into his arms. His warmth was comforting as you lay together on the bed, the tension from earlier slowly melting away.

"You were so stressed back then," he murmured, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back.

You let out a deep sigh. "How could I not be? Junho was holding scissors, babe. He was actually about to cut her plushie. I can’t even begin to imagine what could’ve happened if things went wrong."

Jihoon tightened his hold around you, his voice low and reassuring. "Don’t worry, love. I always step in—now or later. I would never let anything happen to them."

His words should have eased you, and in a way, they did. But still, the thought lingered in your mind. You let out another sigh, resting your head against his chest. "But I was surprised too, honestly. Where did he even learn that kind of reaction? Has he been watching something…?"

Jihoon blinked before realization dawned on him. "Wait… we've been rewatching Jujutsu Kaisen together."

Your eyes widened as you pulled back to look at him. "Are you serious? And you let him?"

Jihoon let out an awkward laugh. "I mean, he loves it! And it’s not that bad—"

You shot him a look. "That show has fights, curses, and literal revenge plots. Junho just tried to traumatize his sister with a scissor! Connect the dots."

Jihoon winced, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, okay… maybe I’ll put a pause on anime night for a bit."

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. "Unbelievable."

Jihoon let out a soft chuckle, his fingers lazily trailing up and down your spine. "You stress too much, babe."

You scoffed, shifting slightly in his embrace. "Of course, I do! I’m literally trying to keep our kids from turning into little menaces."

He hummed in amusement, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, fingertips brushing against your bare skin. "And I love that about you… but you should let yourself relax too."

You shivered at his touch, but you tried to keep your composure. "Easier said than done, babe."

Jihoon smirked, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Well, lucky for you, I know exactly how to help with that."

You narrowed your eyes at him, already recognizing the shift in his tone. "Babe—"

"Shhh," he murmured, pressing a slow, lingering kiss on your jaw before tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. "Just trust me, love. Let me take care of you for a bit."

You swallowed, feeling the heat rise between the two of you as Jihoon’s fingers traced slow, teasing circles on your skin.

Maybe… just this once, you could let him distract you.

[tedsies]

i caved and bought the legacy collection out of curiosity

i bought it on steam by the way, no way am I going anywhere near the ea app

random thoughts as i go along:

game loaded up straight away with no issues (what a strange feeling)

got into pleasantview within 2 minutes (obvs I have no cc installed right now so its gonna be faster anyway)

a bit of a jumpscare to see the game again without reshade ngl

straight into the lothario household. don you look... different without all my defaults

screen resolution defaulted to the right size without me having to change anything by the way, which was nice

turned up all the graphics setting to max and going to visit the goth household as that always gives me lag, even vanilla

this experience is already making me realise I need to cut down my 12gb downloads folder, cos man this is so smooth and fast without all of that in my game

well everything is working perfectly straight out of the box. had no issues with multiple sims on the big goth lot

going to quit and load up again with my ui mods and defaults next (along with hugelunatic's ikea pack as cc)

legacy collection has an entirely different file path by the way, so won't mess with existing ultimate collection installs (i wouldn't have dared to do this otherwise)

okay all my defaults, ui mods and some others are now in (downloads folder is up to 3.64gb now) and everything is working fine still

ikea items as cc don't seem to be fully appearing in the catalog though? that might be a me problem but i dont know

adding in all my cas cc now, along with hood defaults and hood deco cc (downloads folder is up to 6.5gb now). i'm also adding in anything else I can think of like camera mods, user startup cheat etc etc

getting into pleasantview in less than 2 mins still

heading into cas for the first time now...

... and it loaded up within 10 seconds even with ALL of my cas cc? and this is the first time too so I would've expected major lag. normally cas takes about 60 seconds to load in my game

update on the ikea pack as cc... the build items are definitely there, but not the buy for some reason?

biting the bullet and adding in the remaining 6gb of my 12gb downloads folder

all of my cc is now in the game and loading times were about 30 seconds longer than before. still no issues

took darren dreamer to a community lot and there were no crashes/issues/lag. normally going to a community lot is very dangerous for me cos its where I get the most crashes or issues, its why all my community lots are incredibly small lot sizes

also I have the hood deco view set to extra large... normally I have to have it set to extra small just to play in a small household

i dont think I'm being delulu here to say things are running better

next up is adding in all of my mods, then after that I might dare putting in my mega populated uberhood save, and try reshade?

another ikea update: everything is showing up now. it was me being an idiot

so all of my mods are now also in (so my entire downloads folder now) and i haven't been able to trigger any crashes or pink soup yet through normal gameplay? even with extra large hood view from lots

reshade keeps crashing my game on startup... damn, what am I doing wrong

RESHADE IS NOW WORKING (ver 6.1.1)! thanks to this guide

I finally added in my uberhood save (which is packed with hood deco and and has 35 playable families).... and it's working! I also played with a household for a bit and everything was working fine

final update before I go to bed (as its gone midnight here lol)

i now have all of my mods, cc, saves, and reshade installed, and I've yet to have any pink soup or crashes (apart from the crashes when I was *incorrectly* trying to install reshade). honestly... i'm surprised. i dont want to speak too soon obviously, but things seem better. i was just playing in a household with extra large lot view on and that would usually IMMEDIATELY crash my game, but nothing happened. tomorrow i'll actually play for an extended period of time, so i'll be able to tell more for sure then.

i hope this has been helpful to at least a couple of people, and i'll leave with you a shot of my pleasantview newly loaded up in the legacy collection 😅

[artyandink]

—————————————— ————007.ᐟDICK THOUGHTS ᝰ.ᐣ

THE STREET WAS BUSY, busier than usual, and all you wanted was to get home from working in your 9–5 (you say that but it was a shift) with your complimentary coffee from Costa, weaving your way through crowd traffic. It was full of people yelling, on their phones or barging into people on their way to work— honestly, did people have no class nowadays? You served most of these bitches on a daily basis — look, there’s Miss Double-Cappucino-Hold-On-The-Foam — you deserved some respect.

Really, though, did anyone have a real reason for running through this street and making it a walking hazard?

DICK GRAYSON ran through the streets, a classified file that he just stole from a covert facility held in his hand in a vice grip as he sprinted through the crowd. Was he aware that about five members of said covert facility’s security team were chasing him? Very much so. Didn’t help that he didn’t look like the average civilian either— he was wearing a black coat, suit, tie and gloves, for goodness sake.

He needed a way to get into an enclosed space and hide.

That’s when his eyes landed on a civilian ten feet in front of him— you looked like a good manner of distraction, plus, your lips looked… not chapped. So he tucked the file in his coat, and went for it. His hands cupped your shoulders, guiding you into a side alley and muttering something about how he wasn’t going to hurt you, then kissed you.

A fucking stranger was kissing you. Wait, oh, my lord, he was amazing at it.

You gasped into his mouth, having half a mind to pull away, but nah, surely not, he was a great kisser. So you cupped his cheek by instinct, leaning into it, and his hand placement was just immaculate, his lips were so soft and like they were clouds, at least clouds which made your brain feel fuzzy, however wrong this was. While kissing your lips until they went numb, he wasn’t listening out for when the footsteps faded until he could pull back and take a good look at you. God, you were pretty.

Shit, he was hot.

He was like a real life Prince Charming, with black hair that had fallen in front of his eyes, which were blue as hell with pouty lips and flushed cheeks from all the… macking. And then said lips ticked up into a smile, laying one more on you before winking.

“Thanks, sweets.” He grinned, before turning on his heel and sprinting out of the alley, leaving you pressed up against a wall.

The fuck just happened?

[wonderjanga]

The Flask

Literally any hero that knows Captain Marvel will tell you that the man is absolutely amazing, pure and above anything such as cheating, drinking, or even smoking. The JL knows this, the YJ knows this, Teen Titans know this, even the Fawcett heroes know this.

Billy didn’t know this. He honestly had no clue other heroes looked up to him that much but anyways, we have to talk about the prelude to this incident.

See, Billy was minding his own business walking through the trenches, because let’s be honest that’s where he lives, (or at least that’s where he lives in the Superman/Shazam movie). Anyways, on this walk home, he finds a flask just on the ground. He picked it up.

Billy: “Oh cool! A water bottle! It’s a little small though.”

Yeah… anyways, he went to a gas station and cleaned it out of any remaining funny smelling liquid. He even filled it with some tapwater when he was done. So… Kablam!

Strange Water Bottle: Acquired!

Let Billy tell you, he was so proud about finding this water bottle. It had a cool sunflower on it and everything. And sure maybe adults look at him weirdly whenever he drinks from it but whatever! He has a water bottle now!

In fact, he was so happy about this water bottle, he even took it to work, a.k.a. superheroing.

Marvel: *finishes beating up a villain and takes out his flash so he can drink some water*

Fawcitizen: “Wow… Guess the cheese is finally letting loose, huh?”

Elderly Fawcitizen: “It’s about damn time. That young man has been slaving around with the other heroes saving people for years. Let him let loose.”

Fawcitizen: *nods head* “Never heard a truer statement.”

The elderly Fawcitizen and the other Fawcitizen were a little concerned at how he was downing the flask without faltering in the slightest but whatever. It’s the Cheese. Just let him do that.

The Fawcett heroes didn’t think the same though. They wanted to bring up what could’ve happened to make him feel the need to do this, but they also didn’t know if Cap would answer honestly. Heck, he might even offended, and they don’t want that! So, they bit their tongues and kept quiet.

Of course, Billy didn’t just take his water bottle out whenever he was in Fawcett. He took it out just about anywhere. This has led to some interesting interactions with others, not that he minds.

Constantine: “I didn’t fancy you to own one of those, mate.” *points to Billy’s sunflower flask*

Marvel: “Why wouldn’t I?”

Constantine: “Touché.” *offers his own flask so they can clink them together*

Constantine and Marvel: *clinks them*

Billy was absolutely ecstatic that someone else had a water bottle like his. Now, of course, there have been negative interactions with his water bottle.

Marvel: *doing security for whatever reason at the UN and sipping from his “water bottle”*

Security Guard: *watching this* “Quite distasteful, no?”

Marvel: “What do you mean?”

Security Guard: “I mean, this is a gathering of world leaders.”

Marvel: “So…?”

Security Guard: “So I think you’d have the tact to not drink from that here, but apparently not.”

Billy was majorly bummed that some people didn’t like his water bottle but you know what? Whatever.

By the way, because of the fact none of the heroes know why he started “drinking” they just blame each other. More specifically the JL blames the Fawcett heroes while the Fawcett heroes blame the JL.

Again to remind you, anything in Billy’s flask is water.

Also, he eventually found out that his “water bottle” was a flask from Solomon and promptly started leaving the thing at home so he could only drink from there because he was absolutely not getting rid of it.

All the heroes were glad when the sunflower flask suddenly disappeared.

[pshbites]

FOOLS ━ pjs

pairing : bsf!jay x fem!reader genre : friends to lovers, pure FLUFF!! warnings : none but erm not proofread! synopsis : 2 fools in love, who have no idea the other wants them wc : 1k a/n : yes this is inspo off of fool by nct 127, i love naming things after songs #sorry

if u enjoyed pls like & reblog, feedback is always appreciated!!

“would you just shut up” jake groaned out, glancing over at jay once more. ever since jay admitted he had a crush on you, his best friend, he’s been insufferable according to his friends. jay furrowed his brows, “what! i’m not even talking about her” he groaned out, making sunghoon scoff in amusement. “you mentioned that place that you want to take her to, like five times.” he sighed out, picking at his lunch in front of him. 

the history between you and jay wasn’t exactly.. ideal. the two of you had been friends since you were 12 years old and encountered many things together such as the time your braces got caught on a loose thread in jays shirt, or the time jay fell off his bike because he wanted to prove to you he could do a wheelie. all in all you two had stuck with each other through everything, including your relationships. 

jay never admitted it but he had developed a crush on you towards the beginning of college, that stupid saying that people really change in college or something was deemed to be true. he started getting annoyed by the encounters you would tell him about, wondering why you let stupid boys treat you like that when he was right in front of you. he thought he wasn’t obvious about it but when he finally told jake and sunghoon about having a crush on you, the two of them acted like it was a normal tuesday. 

“okay i did not say it five times” jay rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair and jake and sunghoon gave each other a look, both of them sighing. “yeah man whatever” jake mumbled, making jay roll his eyes once more. he looked around the dining hall and his eyes landed on you, sitting with your two friends telling them something dramatically. you were talking with your hands again, which made jay smile. he loved when you did that it was so cute. if only he knew what you were talking about so passionately.. 

“honestly my theory is that he’s as equally obsessed with you as you are him” karina shrugged, popping one of winters fries in her mouth, making her slap her hand away. “that’s not possible” you sighed out, leaning back in your chair now. “yeah well..” as karina spoke, you looked in his direction, thoughts clouding your mind. you always had a small thing for jay ever since you were little but it was embarrassing to admit. those feelings halted when jay started getting in relationships which made you get into relationships to get his attention, but it never worked. 

now here you were, in your second year of college still pining for the boy you wanted when you were 13. “yn? are you paying attention.” karina waved her hand in front of your face, snapping you out of it. winter looked towards jay then you and laughed slightly. “she was too busy making oogly eyes at him” she said, making you slap her hand. karina groaned out. “it was not oogly eyes!” you retorted, rolling your eyes at winter. 

“there’s actually no hope for the two of you” winter sighed out as you three got up, going to put your plates away. “he doesn’t like me back, i’ll get over it” you sighed out, placing your place in the box and following karina and winter. “you’ve been saying that for years but okay yn” karina shook her head, laughing softly. as the three of you walked out of the dining hall you saw jake, jay, and sunghoon standing there. 

of course jake started up a conversation, now the six of you were walking as a group with you and jay lagging behind. it was quiet between you and jay, only the crunching of the leaves could be heard. jay glanced at you, smiling softly at the way you stepped over the leaves so you could hear the crunch of them. you had always loved doing that even when you were younger.

it hits jay now that he knows you, more than you may know yourself. because of him knowing you so well, that's why he fell for you in the first place. you were like a breath of fresh air to him, you always knew how to talk to him and make him smile, you also knew him inside and out and jay knew this.

but you were almost too good for him, after all you were a goddess in jays eyes and he was just a fool. what could he do? he knew confessing to you was a gamble because it could change the entire trajectory of your relationship, for the better or the worse. jay snapped out of his thoughts and cleared his throat.

“so.. what were you guys talking about? you kept moving your hands around dramatically” jay laughed a little as he finished the sentence, you rolled your eyes and elbowed him playfully. “none of your business” you mumbled back, making jay smile. 

he looked to you and smiled at your softly flushed cheeks, the way your nose was pink because of the fall breeze. “you wanna go to the diner tonight?” you looked to him, smile clear on your face. “i thought you were busy tonight?” he thought about it for a second then shook his head. “not anymore” he smiled softly. “okay, i’ll ask winter and rina.” you said and jay furrowed his brows. he hesitated before speaking. “no like, just us” he said, sounding a little uncertain. 

now was the moment, jay thought. the moment he had been waiting for, for ten years now. he knew you wouldn't want a really fancy date, so instead he opted for something a bit more you, something you were comfortable with. after all, everything he did was for you, and only you. so here it goes.

“no like, just us” he said, sounding a little uncertain.

you fully stopped walking causing jay to stop walking as well, forgetting about the group in front of you. “are you asking me out on a date park jongseong?” you furrowed your brows, looking in his eyes for an answer. there was no way he felt the same. “i.. uh you know if you want it to be?” he stuttered out, shoving his hands in his pockets. you smiled at his nervousness, the way he tried to act all cool about. “okay, are you paying? because you know a real gentleman pays.” you said playfully, the two of you resuming walking again. 

“is that even a question? of course yn” he sighed out, a little less nervous now. “well then yes, i’d love to go out with you jay” you smiled, looking at him. he smiled as well, the blush on his cheeks evident. “c'mon lovebirds! let’s go!” jake called out, his voice a little far in the distance. you giggled softly, making jay softly elbow you. karina’s theory was more than right.

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