#which honestly just makes this even funnier to me like...

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

pslsjsj i know theres obviously no reason for logan to bring things up that make him seem suspicious but the idea of him just like casually mentioning weird stuff about his life to a more and more concerned teagan and andy is so funny, just dropping little things into conversation like "oh one of my boyfriends doesnt legally exist", "...when we overthrew the king a couple years ago...", "oh thats my brother thomas. were not twins no i was adopted", "yeah everyone in town was so irrationally scared of me they had a meeting about whether to send me to live in the forest haha" as theyre scrambling to be like cult??? or is he messing with us????

logan tries very hard not to mention things that make him seem suspicious, which makes it even funnier when he does because he honestly didnt know it was a weird thing.

Andy: why are there acorns all over your windowsill

Logan, half-asleep not paying even a little attention: its an offering to deter lightning strikes. what do you use?

Andy: *surreptitiously writes "hippie pagan parents?" on the notebook he carries around*

[alouettesque]

still cannot believe tumblr decided to get super into the ONE (1) scorsese film I've seen. gamblers wish they had my luck

[anna-scribbles]

they should've been at the club(infertility treatment centers)

[lilgynt]

i look like i ripped the fattest fucking bong ever my eyes are RED

[stevebabey]

Eddie is beginning to wonder if he’ll ever reach a point where Steve couldn’t reduce him to this state.

This state being… transfixed. Eddie is sure he must look like a lovesick cartoon. In fact, if he could manage to drag his gaze away, he’d probably find red hearts circling around his head in a halo, popping like little bubbles.

But Eddie can’t move his eyes. Can’t even close his mouth either.

Steve’s talking to him too, which is most definitely worse — he’s totally missing every word. He can see Steve’s lips moving, pink plush lips wrapping around words but fuck, that was a total trap because now Eddie is just looking at his lips. He tries to refocus, to listen. His eyes just wander back to what he was staring back at the first place.

Was Steve like this all the time? Just a walking around looking so damn delectable?

Or is it Eddie, just a starved man who’s been living off stolen glances, for as long as he can remember? For once, he’s learning, he’s allowed to look.

And by God, is he looking.

Steve’s not even doing it on purpose either, which probably makes the whole thing funnier. Eddie knows what his boyfriend (boyfriend! he thinks giddily in his mind) looks like when he’s cleaned up to impress. He can spot the way Steve preens beneath Eddie’s lingering gaze.

This is not that. Today, Steve is just cleaning, a usual Sunday morning ritual.

He’s got some old sport shorts on and he’s clearly grown a bit since he first got them— unless Hawkins has always been giving out slutty little shorts to the basketball team (They haven’t. Eddie would know if they did.)

He’s wearing one of his wife-beater singlets too. It’s a little on the scrappy side though, considering it’s nearly see-through with how worn it is.

Honestly, in Eddie’s humble and gay opinion, it’s stupidly hot. The dark hair dusted across of Steve’s chest is visible beneath it, the shirt showing off the shape of his broad chest. Even better, his happy trail is visible and goddamn, if that doesn’t make Eddie happy, he doesn’t know what will.

But it’s not even that.

Quite frankly, Eddie’s rather embarrassed that he’s basically blue-screening because Steve is pulling out the cord out from the vacuum cleaner.

But… but he’s yanking it up towards his chest, slow and strong repetitive motions— that take enough effort to make his biceps bulge with every tug.

Eddie can’t stop watching. The cord must be several metres long and he’s not sure if he should be cursing it or thanking it for the view he gets; Steve’s tan arms flexing and rippling. Try as he might, Eddie can’t help imagining how they must look when Steve’s got his hand aroun—

“—hello? Are you even listening to me?”

Steve’s voice cuts into Eddie’s dangerously side-tracked thoughts and he pauses his tugging at the same time. It’s the thing that finally allows him to break his lustful stare at Steve’s arms. Oh God, he just got all hot and bothered over his boyfriend doing the vacuuming.

“Hello.” Eddie says back, because that was the first word to register in his brain. “I mean- yes. I’m—”

Eddie decides mid-sentence that he’s not getting away with the lie. He pivots. “Okay, no, I didn’t hear that. Would you please tell me what you just said, oh lovely sweet man of mine?”

Ever the butterer-upper, he was. Thank God it works on Steve. He rolls his eyes a little but there’s an adoring grin on his lips.

“Man of mine,” Steve mutters amusedly under his breath. He drops the vacuum cord on the carpeted floor and leans down the grab the handle of the vacuum. “You just kinda froze when you came in. I was asking if everything was okay? I’m just doing this room then I’ll be done, if you don’t like the noise.”

Eddie adores that Steve’s taken his silence as though he might be afraid of the vacuum cleaner or something. He nearly snorts aloud at how far from the truth it is.

“Uh huh.” Eddie nods, not bothering to correct him. He jerks a thumb behind him, pointing at nothing. “I’m just gonna…”

He spins on his heel and exits left stage, fast as he can while still looking normal (he’s unsuccessful, as he leaves a baffled Steve behind him.) As he enters into the kitchen and decides to fix them both a pot of coffee, Eddie lets himself giggle over the pure absurdity of what just happens.

It’s mortifying. It’s hilarious. He can never tell Steve.

Except, when Steve comes to find him in the kitchen and trades a kiss for some coffee, Eddie can’t help it. All he ever wants to do is make Steve laugh.

He decides it’s worth the embarrassment when Steve laughs so hard coffee comes out his nose.

Steve teasingly promises that he’ll to try be less distracting, then rescinds his words at Eddie’s abject reaction (“Don’t you dare.”) looking far too smug— in a delighted sort of way. Preening, in that way Eddie loves.

Their first kiss, as Eddie slides onto Steve’s lap and loops his arms over his shoulders, fingers dancing on those tasty arms, tastes a little bit like coffee. Their mugs grow cold, untouched.

Eddie doesn’t mind — he’s too busy finding out that the rest of their kisses taste like something between sunlight and Steve.

[l3monlem0n]

Some Murder Drones Episode 7 screenshots I thought were interesting and my thoughts on them :>

SPOILER WARNING!!!! is spoilering

Nori, despite being a middle aged woman with a child, appears to be an Otaku or otherwise likes "edgy" and "scene" stuff, as well as listening to nightcore, very much like her daughter. Good for her tbh you're never too old to have fun

She also has a photo of Khan and what I can only assume is baby Uzi, though it appears to have blue eyes, but maybe it's just the lighting. Still very cute she has a pic of her husband

As well as all the previously mentioned Otaku stuff, she also drew herself as an anime character. She has a skinsona. Phenomenal (pos)

Nothing much here, just Uzi coughing up blood. Girl got the goop (gore) inside of her already

Lab Space. Apparently the Church was just down there and not even the humans know why. The canonicity of this is questionable; it could just be a joke

OT, as per google, stands for "Occupational Therapy". Makes sense for the context, and makes the bottom text funnier

"Fun Time To Universe Big Crunch: 87". The Big Crunch is a hypothetical way the Universe could end, where the universe folds on itself and shrinks into a single point. 87 "what" I don't know. If it's months, that 7 years and 3 months

Honestly the Murder Drones lore is super confusing. I think what this is trying to say is that every other Zombie Drone is doing poorly, (Except for Yeva), they are trying to reactivate 002 (Nori) via the USB. I'm not sure what this means. Maybe they only got the results they wanted from the two of them, and are trying again with Nori since she was the only other one that worked (also why they got Yeva when she failed; this may all be referring to how the episode opened up) Also, the date says SER. As revealed in the episode Cabin Fever, Copper-9 has months that Earth does not. SER most likely stands for Seramorris, the month revealed in that episode

Looks like the "bad event" wasn't the first one. Certainly was the last one though lol

Just a good pic of ghost/hologram V with the scary stuff. Might use this as a wallpaper

You can literally see the hole in his neck where N bit him in...

...And it's to the point his HEAD FALLS OFF. (including because I didn't notice the first time around)

Yup, the idea that Uzi became the Admin for N and V is completely true. I wonder what would've happened if she didn't, since Cyn didn't react whatsoever

friggin bug (very pos)

You would not believe how difficult it was to get a good pic of this (I'm using snipping tool lmao). Always a pleasure to see Uzi's doodles. Things her gun can do (upper right):

NOT judge her

Forced prom date (?)

Allows her to say she had friends before she frickin murdered them with sci-fi machinery

The cut off text at the bottom: Plan B: Normal gun + Shoot really fast

This is while Tessa is looking for something in the lockers. Claws, chains, magnets, Wings, and scribbled "HELP". Looks like the lockers were all specifically to hold the infected worker drones. Oof

We are in the future now baby. We have rererererereCAPTCHA. Funnily enough, it still couldn't stop a robot

There is a message board where someone who doesn't like robots is talking. They also are scared. Also no one else is using this system, which is unsurprising. "Ur aight ;)" Wait is the winky face intentional foreshadowing? Or unintentional?

We get the names of a bunch of other Worker Drones. Unfortunately for all 029 fans, her name was not visible. (also can someone tell me what "JWEB" could be short for?) And Yeva is said to have a patch. That may be the crucible thing idk

Cyn (which I will be calling this version Skyn [Skin + Cyn]) apparently took of the space suit just to give Doll the Withered Foxy jumpscare. Honestly really terrifying. If this photo was teased before release I think the fandom would've exploded

Just N being a good boy :3

The MDs, Cyn's pets. Nori refers to them as "Nerfed" so the "Entity" can ensure control, and says they were made to destroy other hosts. I don't know why Cyn would want them dead, but I'm not the loremaster here. YouTube line is there because I couldn't be bothered after the Railgun image

Probably already confirmed, but doubly confirmed that a symptom of the Solver is giving Drones organic insides. A Worker Drone body with a rib cage and guts. I wonder what would happen if the infection continued uninterrupted (also R.I.P. Doll I loved you :frown:)

I'm sure everyone noticed, but when Uzi tried to manipulate Tessa, the ERROR noticed appeared. Already hinting Tessa is not all she says she is

Apparently the Solver can create Black Hole Saws. Interesting development (Blackhole Blitz)

I know most people (I think) see this as a joke and N just being a bit of goofball. But honestly, I think he did it intentionally to shock Cynuzi and give Nori a chance. In the Pilot, he licked V's sword to surprise her too, which means he isn't unfamiliar with doing something weird and surprising for the advantage

Skyn eating Doll's core. R.I.P. Doll again. Seriously, was that Doll in Core Form like Nori was? Or was Nori a fringe case because she was "Exorcised" and this is just a regular core? Questions, questions. Also yeah the Solver also gives you a Core. Fun

This tag makes me think that this body is Cyn's actual body. Not longer a hologram, but her actual body from the mansion. The reason Tessa gave N, J, and V their names was because that was the first letter of their Serial Designation (she's very uncreative). However, Cyn's tag was slightly faded, which meant her SD couldn't be seen, so Tessa gave her the name "Cyn" after her P/N, even though the other 3 already have the same P/N as Cyn (Tessa, again, is very uncreative)...

...and for some reason, Cyn or the Solver, which ever theory you subscribe to, decided to wear Tessa as a skin suit for some twisted reason. It did help her with the Captcha. Also scary because this doesn't have the right proportions for an adult (unless Cyn really forced that skin on), which leads me to believe that this is a Younger Tessa, and she faked having an older voice. Maybe I shouldn't call her my wife... I'm sure Eldritch J is still available :^)

(Seriously, the eyes are burnt out, leaving two eye holes over the visor, so she gives herself two X eyes so it looks better. Also yeah we found out what that thing on the "It Came From Copper-9" poster came from. It really was Cyn or Skyn)

Just a frame of the final...frame... for coolness. I'm probably also going to use this for a background. Also, this is definitely Copper-9. You can see the ring and ringless moon together on the right. Uzi somehow got sent to orbit after falling in the meat hole

Well that was all for now. This series has consumed me entirely, body and soul, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Goodbye and goodnight

[twogyuu]

the unoriginal villain origin story

Pairing: Jeonghan x fem!reader (ft. friend!Wonwoo)

Synopsis: In which Jeonghan and his friends recount the series of unfortunate events that led to you.

Alternatively, in which maybe leaving it up to fate Wonwoo is all Jeonghan really needed to do all along.

Genre: Fluff, crack, angst if you squint, cliche af, prequel to Thursday's Child Has Far to Go anthology, dilf!jeonghan, uncle!wonwoo (he's engaged LOL), part university!au, mild E2L (they're not really enemies, but OC definitely trying to stay AWAY from Jeonghan at first), one-sided turned mutual pining

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of food/alcohol, mildly suggestive (they just kiss and jeonghan likes skinship), reader is shorter than jeonghan, jeonghan changes hair color a couple times, wonwoo just swallows food without chewing like a maniac, proofread but not well, there are inconsistencies between this and easter egg's dropped about their relationship in other fics (i will fix that some day!)

wc: ~14.6k

A/N: I had so much trouble posting this T^T First long fic in a while🫶🏻 It's not my best story nor is it that deep, but made me feel all sorts of giddy 💞 I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing!

“So,” Leah starts with her mouth half-full, capturing the table’s attention. She’s quick to cover her lips and swallow her food before continuing. “I’m curious,” she points between Jeonghan and you, “How’d you two end up together? As long as I’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve been married.”

Immediately, Wonwoo snorts, nearly spitting out his dinner on his friend sitting across the table. Jeonghan scorns in disgust, frowning, offended as to why Wonwoo finds his fiance’s question amusing. In contrast, you seem to lose your appetite, silver fork clattering against your half-filled ceramic plate. You grow quiet, straightening your spine and avoiding eye contact like you were back in middle school, caught red-handed with a confession letter to your crush. 

“I honestly thought she was going to end up with Baekho – she loathed Jeonghan with a passion,” Wonwoo chuckles to himself as he redirects his chopsticks at your husband. “But Jeonghan knocked her up – that’s what happened.” 

“Okay,” Jeonghan is quick to defend. He sighs, shooting Wonwoo a bored, but annoyed look, “That’s not what happened – do you have to put it that way?” 

The other man only shrugs his shoulders, raising his palms to the sky playing innocent and oblivious. 

Leah’s eyes flicker back and forth between you and your husband, then sweet Nina. Leah’s innocent smile slowly fading as you neither confirmed or answered. She isn’t aware that this was a sensitive topic for you and Jeonghan, and the last thing she wants to do is offend her fiance’s friends! The two of you just seem to get along so well and so in love, for lack of a better description, it’s hard for Leah to imagine much malice as to how you met and got together. Yet, this raises the additional worrisome, unfounded suspicion: Did you and Jeonghan just get married out of convenience?

No – that couldn’t be! Wonwoo is a sensible man; he wouldn’t be laughing if it was a pitiful marriage of convenience. 

“She didn’t hate me,” Jeonghan starts to explain. 

“She blocked your number after the blind date,” Wonwoo interjects. 

You met during a blind date?

“It wasn’t even our blind date,” Jeonghan quickly shoots back. He clenches his jaw, clearly getting fed up with Wonwoo’s teasing. 

This is certainly interesting for Leah . . . Jeonghan frequently annoyed Wonwoo, not that the latter gave the older gentleman the reaction he wanted, but it is rare to see Wonwoo get under Jeonghan’s skin. 

“It wasn’t, which makes it all the funnier,” Wonwoo comments, “In fact, she was technically,” Wonwoo holds his fingers up in air quotes, “‘my blind date.’”

“I was merely doing you a favor by tagging along – and it was free food!” you finally exclaim, frowning at Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo waves you off, smirking, “Jeonghan was down bad.”

Confused, Leah holds up a hand to silence the bickering. She shakes her head, “Wait, wait, wait – please start from the beginning. I didn’t grow up with you guys, so I’m so lost.”

Like those corny rom-coms, you and Jeonghan turn to look at each other at the same time, exchanging a knowing, tired look. There’s a bashful tinge to your expression; interestingly, the corner of Jeonghan’s lips quirks up in a crooked, smug smile. 

Sure, you may have resisted (NOT hate) him at first, and Wonwoo can make fun of him all he wants, but it’s Yoon Jeonghan who won in the end. 

After all, you're sitting next to him at the dinner of your shared home as his wife and Nina's mom after all.

. . . . 

The day was near perfect for Wonwoo. 

His morning coding lecture was canceled, so he got to sleep in. Though there was a pop quiz in his Operating Systems class, he passed with flying colors for once. Wonwoo only had two classes today, finishing in the early afternoon, leaving the rest of the day to his leisure. He decided to celebrate by treating himself to some fancy coffee from the new bougie cafe that opened on the edge of campus before meeting up with a friend for a quick study session. Now, Wonwoo wasn't some latte snob, but there was something pleasant and relaxing about taking a quiet stroll around campus with his Airpods plugged in and an overpriced hot brew with several scoops of sugar and multiple pumps of mocha syrup in his hand. The weather on this autumn day was also just right – not too cold that he needed a windbreaker, but not too warm that his green and orange plaid flannel and yellow beanie combo didn’t make him sweat buckets. 

All was wonderful: It was just him and his overpriced bougie sweet sludge of caffeine. Indeed this campus was huge and he was surrounded by so many students rushing to class or laughing with their friends on the grass instead of studying; however, he felt anonymous and loved it. No one minded him, no one dared to bother him–

“Hey!” a familiar crack of a shrill interrupts IU’s sweet voice streaming through his ear piece. It’s accompanied by a bony and heavy hand clamping onto his shoulder, nearly yanking Wonwoo back and tumbling onto his ass if he didn’t catch his footing. 

Annoyed, Wonwoo pulled out his earbud and turned to face his menace of a friend: Yoon Jeonghan. He was panting, chocolate brown hair stuck to his forehead by sweat and sticking out in funny directions in the gentle breeze, as if he had been chasing Wonwoo for several minutes. 

“Why are you out of breath?” Wonwoo deadpanned. 

“I’ve been,” Jeonghan sucked in breath, “Running,” he heaved again, “After you! Calling your name! How loud is your music? God – you’ve been spending too much time with Hansol.” Jeonghan adjusted the straps of his backpack, making a point to roll his shoulder back dramatically. 

“Sorry,” Wonwoo muttered, fingers tapping his screen to pause his music. “Um, what do you need? Can I help you?” He cleared his throat, keeping eye contact with Jeonghan as he took a sip of his coffee, presuming it cooled down by now. 

“Go on a date with me,” Jeonghan said.

Wonwoo choked, the mocha liquid spilling from between his lips, accidentally spraying the hem of Jeonghan’s gray t-shirt.

“Wonwoo!” Jeonghan screamed, jumping back. 

The said man was quick to dab his lips with the back of his hand, coughing in the process. 

“What the fuck, dude!” Jeonghan groaned, brushing at his shirt. “Good thing I didn’t wear white today.”

“I’m sorry, but what?” Wonwoo exclaimed. A few passing students throw confused glances in their directions. Wonwoo lowered his voice and quickly added, “Look – I know we’re good friends and I like you – as a friend, and I respect you, but I don’t swing that way.”

Probably thirty seconds passed by as Wonwoo waited impatiently for his friend to explain his request further. Jeonghan’s expression only grows unreadable, his brows softening as he let’s go of his shirt, lips drooping into a frown. Taking Wonwoo by surprise, Jeonghan roughly grabbed Wonwoo’s wrist and pulled him close. He tried to pull back, but for a twink, Jeonghan’s grip was strong.

“I’ve loved you for so long! I can’t believe you won’t–” 

Thwack!

“Hey!” Wonwoo’s hands come flying to the back of his head at the pain shooting up neck. 

“No, you dumbass!” Jeonghan finally sounding like himself again, “I’m asking you to come on a blind date with me – to keep me safe and keep me company, of course. Save me when I give you the look.”

“The look?” Wonwoo asked, still rubbing the base of his head.

“You know,” Jeonghan widened his eyes and clenched his jaw, extending his neck like a giraffe. “That look.”

“Right,” Wonwoo replied slowly – as if he knew what that meant. He waved his friend off. “Sorry – I can’t though. I also don’t want to third wheel.”

“Why not!” Jeonghan groaned. 

“I’m busy.”

“Aren’t we all?” 

“I’m meeting a friend.”

“Bring your friend!” Jeonghan grabbed Wonwoo’s arm desperately, “Or anyone really. Please! I just don’t want to go on this date alone.”

“You hit me – why would I?” Wonwoo teased back. “Also, why’d you agree to the blind date if you don’t want to go?”

“I owe it to Seungcheol,” Jeonghan groaned. “I’m going in his stead – something having a girl.”

“Ah,” Wonwoo nodded, the pieces coming together. The two friends were close and had a history of exchanging blind dates and sending one versus the other – a weird pact they developed in their freshman year of university. He suddenly scrunched his brows together, a new question forming on the tip of his tongue. “Wait – Seungcheol has a girl?”

Jeonghan doesn’t seem to care, however. “So?” 

“So?” Wonwoo repeated back, confused 

“I’ll pay for food,” Jeonghan offered. 

As if on cue, Wonwoo’s stomach growled. The two of them peer down at his abdomen, then back at each other. He was a growing, but broke college student – his fridge didn’t contain much yesterday, and even less today. 

Rubbing his belly, he replied quietly, “I guess I can think of someone.”

“Great!” Jeonghan brightened immediately. “7PM, tomorrow – don’t be late!”

. . . .

[Wonwoo]: Want free food?

. . . .

[Y/N]: This is NOT what I envisioned when you said ‘free food’ >:(

Pushing his black-rimmed spectacles up his nose bridge, Wonwoo looked up at his phone, offering you a sheepish, but apologetic smile, from across the table. He gave you a small shrug, scrunching his lips and bowing his head slightly to silently say ‘sorry.’ The sincerity of his apology doesn’t seem to go through though, as you only sigh heavily and roll your eyes. 

Violently, you stabbed your wooden chopstick into the pork belly sizzling in front of you. Not minding to blow at it, quickly, you stuck in your mouth, instantly regretting your decision, of course as the heat burnt a piece of your tongue. You jolted a little, eyes beginning to water.

And then, he does it – again. 

Sleeves of his brown sweater rolled up to his elbow, he reached over the steaming grill and placed a freshly refilled, full glass of ice water in front of you.

Hand hovering over your lip, your eyes flicker to Jeonghan. Lips pressed into a thin, but genuinely warm, crooked smile, his deep brown eyes, once round curves into half moons under the overgrown bangs of his soft cool brown hair (which was growing blotchy and brassy, if you might add). Though you were curious why he looked at you with such disgusting saccharine dripping from his eyes that may or may not have made you feel some type of way, you don’t let your gaze linger for long to figure out why. You were quick to turn your shoulder towards him, covering your steaming mouth and concentrating on a crack in the old oak windowsill. 

It had been like this since five minutes into the (now that you know) double blind date. You’re not sure how the seating arrangement ended up this way when you and Wonwoo were just here in support, but Jeonghan sat next to you, Dami across from you, and Wonwoo diagonally position. His date, Dami, sat across from him, but Jeonghan seemed to pay minimal mind to her, answering her questions politely, but vaguely. 

Perhaps you were just thinking too much about it, but Jeonghan was paying more attention to you. He laughed a little too loud at your blunt remarks, you caught him staring in your direction one too many times, and was a little too attentive at what was in your bowl. You made a point to ask Wonwoo about it after. 

The gestures seemed sweet until you took a step back and got a larger view of the situation: Two facts were certain.

One – You weren’t close with Jeonghan despite sharing Wonwoo and a few others as a mutual friend. Yet his reputation was notorious as it was confusing. Neither quite the fuck boy nor the campus hearthrob (that title belonged to his friend, Seungcheol), Yoon Jeonghan was a silent menace to collegiate society. He was gorgeous – a deep set of dark brown eyes framed by long velvet lashes, his features were gentle, yet somehow dynamic and sharp. His warm smile ignited hearts across campus, but no one dared confess to him: His intentions (or the lack thereof) were known far and wide: Yoon Jeonghan did not date. He was cordial, perhaps sometimes a mischievous flirt if bored, but his true kindness did not go out easily. It was not known why he didn’t date, a man that beautiful could snatch someone up with a bat of his lashes and flick of his finger. Some of your friends had said he had a long distance girlfriend on the other side of the country, others have proposed he was afraid of commitment and a closet fuck boy – kept his flings under wraps. He was close with the soccer team after all. 

With all of this “knowledge” about him in mind, that led you to the second point: Jeonghan was Dami’s blind date. There’s a piece of you that is curious as to why Jeonghan agreed to a blind date with Dami – not in a toxic or jealous way of course. Her jet black hair trimmed into a short, messy but stylish shag bob, her features resembling that of a wide-eyed kitten, Dami was indeed cute. You didn’t know much about her, however; no money to her name, she wasn’t particularly popular or desired in that way on campus, did not participate in sports or clubs, and you’re not even sure how she was linked to Jeonghan in the first place. 

Perhaps this was Dami’s big love story: the campus enigma takes interest in an ordinary girl and whisks her away to live an adventurous life after graduation. 

The catch though?

Dami didn’t seem interested in Jeonghan at all. 

In fact, hearts were literally shooting out of her eyes at Wonwoo. 

“So, uh,” Dami cleared her throat, her eyes flickered up to Wonwoo then you before returning back to the boy on her side. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she asked, “Are the two of you . . .?”

Wonwoo choked on his lettuce, followed by your awkward cough. Much to both of your surprises, Jeonghan also nearly spat out his water at Wonwoo. A moment of silence at the table lingered, the three of you glancing at each other, while Dami sat back in her seat trying to make sense of the situation; though frankly, you and Wonwoo were equally confused as to why Jeonghan reacted so volatilely too. 

“We’re just friends,” Wonwoo finally piped up. He cleared his throat, dabbing the invisible stain in the corner of his lip with the napkin. 

You nodded vigorously in confirmation. 

“Oh? Okay,” Dami said softly, a little breathless. There’s a small twitch of the corner of her lip, threatening to stretch into a grin, but she caught herself, offering the table a tight smile instead. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Jeonghan visibly relax, quietly returning to the meat grilling in front of him. 

The rest of the dinner proceeded without any choking mishaps – it was fairly nice, honestly. You decided that you actually really liked Dami. Despite her cat-like appearance and coy nature, she was lively and innocent. Her crush on Wonwoo was evident and you found it endearing, though your friend might not. 

In regards to Jeonghan, his nonchalant, yet caring nature carried on throughout the night; it even got Wonwoo raising his brows curiously. You do your best to not pay mind to him, but every now and then, you find yourself heating up at the sound of his deep laughter.

After bidding the pair goodbye and exchanging phone numbers with Dami, you and Wonwoo set off for your shared apartment complex. You lived in the same building, him on the second floor, you on the fourth floor. 

Unable to contain your curiosity much longer, you check behind you to make sure Jeonghan is a good distance away before nudging Wonwoo’s elbow. He looked at you, unamused, silently asking you what you wanted. 

You began, “Hey, this is a weird question and I know you were just there for moral support and free food, but did you get the feeling that Jeonghan–” 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo confirmed, already knowing the answer to your unfinished question. You stutter in your steps, putting you a few feet behind him. Wonwoo continued forward, showing no signs of slowing down for your confused state. He hollered back, “He’s definitely into you.”

It made you feel some type of way, but you can’t decide if it’s a good type of way or you didn’t like it all together. Your heart beats funny for the first time in years – it was reminiscent of when you developed a crush in middle school, but different due to the uncertainty of this feeling. Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo’s comment made you come to a halt altogether, quietly contemplating in the middle of the sidewalk while strangers walked around you. 

As if on cue, just as Wonwoo noticed your absence lingering behind him, he turned to find Jeonghan actually running willingly, fast approaching behind you. He touched your elbow, interrupting your daze and you turned around slowly to greet him. Wonwoo can’t make out your expression, but he could only imagine, you looked lost like a guppy in the sewers. On the other hand, Jeonghan’s expression was very visible and clear: his friend was beaming; subtly in his smiles and soft in his eyes, but beaming nonetheless. 

One would think Jeonghan had something important to tell you given the way he sprinted nearly a block to catch up to you, heaving between words, but his message was rather simple. 

“It was really nice meeting you, Y/N.”

Yet, for some reason, it made all the impact. 

. . . .

“Please!” Jeonghan hissed, stabbing Wonwoo’s side with the tip of his pencil. Wonwoo winced away, shooting daggers in his friend’s direction. He was trying to use this spare few hours between classes to study for his finals in the serenity and quiet of the library. His friends knew around this time of the semester, Wonwoo didn’t like to be disturbed, but it just so happened that Jeonghan had an urgent request, prompting him to track down the computer engineering major to his sacred, hidden spot of the law school library. “Can you give me her number? It’s not that hard!”

Though irritating, Wonwoo did find this version of Yoon Jeonghan was very entertaining as much as it was enthralling as Jeonghan never took this much interest in anyone or anything. He wanted to let his intrusive thoughts win and indulge in it. 

The two of you were like night and day. Whereas, you spoke your feelings, wants, and needs openly, Jeonghan never dared to do so. His requests were cryptic, embedded questions pertaining to the objective, rather than what his heart desired truly. You had your mind set on a goal; Jeonghan was one to flow and ebb with the waters of life. 

However, though neither of you knew it yet, there was a beguiling bone in the both of you. It depended on how it played out whether it’d unite the both of you or send you apart. At this point, it was unironically up to Wonwoo if he wanted to be the third player in this game. t

Wonwoo scoffed, shaking his head. 

“What?” Jeonghan frowned. 

“Do you want it that bad?” Wonwoo asked. He pressed his friend further. “And why?”

Jeonghan closed his mouth as quick as he opened it, retracting the rationale at the tip of his tongue. A good gambler never shows his cards first. His eyes flickered, contemplating his next few words more carefully before adjusting his posture and continuing. 

“Just because,” Jeonghan replied nonchalantly. 

Wonwoo chuckled, not surprised. 

“If you’re just going to fuck around with her heart, I’d rather not,” Wonwoo replied, shrugging. 

And it was true – you were the same age, but to some extent, you felt like a long-lost younger sister to Wonwoo. 

“Hey,” Jeonghan punched him lightly. There was a slight warning tone as he was frowning even more, well aware of what Wonwoo was referring to. Jeonghan has never bothered to clarify the rumors of his dating life, thinking it too much work, but that didn’t mean he liked them either. “You know that’s not true and I would never.”

“Then admit it,” Wonwoo shot back. 

“Admit what?!” Jeonghan flailed his hands wildly, earning a few dirty looks from the studious students a few tables away.  

“You want Y/N’s number because you’re interested.”

“Th-that’s not it,” Jeonghan muttered weakly. “I mean, yes? But also no? I just . . . want to know her better – you know, as a friend . . . first.”

Crossing his arm over his chest, Wonwoo nodded, feigning agreement. “Right, right.”

“Wonwoo,” Jeonghan protested. 

When he didn’t respond, Jeonghan groaned loudly, flopping back in his spinning chair dramatically. 

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll find someone else to give it to me,” Jeonghan threatened. 

“And risk other people questioning why you want to contact Y/N?” Wonwoo teased. He shot Jeonghan a shit-eating grin, “You know what they’re all going to think, right?”

“Jeon Wonwoo, when did you get so fucking irritating?” 

Wonwoo leaned forward, waving his finger for Jeonghan to get closer. The latter hesitated for a second before giving in. 

“If there’s one thing you should know about Y/N,” Wonwoo started in a hushed voice, “You’re not the first one to ask for her number.”

“So?” Jeonghan asked incredulously, “Why should that matter?”

“Just saying,” Wonwoo leaned back, resting his hands on the nape of his neck, “Don’t be surprised if she turns you down – she doesn’t like to mess around. She’s not really . .  . actively looking to date right now either, honestly. Something about careers and being her ‘me’ era.” At the time, Jeonghan wasn’t sure what that meant, but he was sure content with the way Wonwoo ripped a corner of his notebook and scribbled down your digits. “You should be grateful we’re friends – she asked me not to hand out her number the first time I gave it to Johnny Suh.”

He handed the scrap over to Jeonghan, who beamed as if it was the golden ticket from Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. 

May Yoon Jeonghan be the last to ask for your number. 

Wonwoo called after Jeonghan, “In return, all I ask is that you don’t tell Y/N you got the number from me.”

“Why?” Jeonghan asked, adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder as he stood up from his desk. 

Wonwoo rubbed his neck sheepishly, tips of his ear turning red. “I also don’t want her passing out my number – it’s a pact we made, kinda.”

It all clicked for Jeonghan then, if not more. “Don’t worry,” Jeonghan waved, “I’ll send Dami a text.”

“Hey!”

. . . .

[Jeonghan]: Hey – this is Yoon Jeonghan :) 

[Jeonghan]: I got it from Wonwoo hehehe.

[Y/N Y/L/N]: ???

[Jeonghan]: Hello?

[Y/N Y/L/N]: [your message not delivered]

. . . .

You don’t hear from Jeonghan after the double blind date.

Not that you were anticipating it, but still– Wonwoo said he was into you and then he chased you down a block to tell you it was nice to meet you!

Ugh – the bar was so damn low. 

On the other hand, you do hear from Dami, the two of you quickly becoming better friends. She reached out to you on Instagram, playful chatter turning into occasional hangouts and then weekly coffee runs or walking to the general vicinity of your classes together in between lectures. You were suspicious at first, wondering if she was using you to get closer to Wonwoo, but her intentions seemed sincere. Indeed, she did ask about Wonwoo every now and then, eventually also asking if he was seeing anyone, you didn’t find it particularly annoying. She still wanted to be your friend and understood boundaries, choosing to admire from afar and up close when the opportunity presents. 

It also turned out that Wonwoo wasn’t the only one who sensed there was something up about Jeonghan at the blind date as Dami brought it up months later when you passed the barbeque restaurant where you all met that fateful day on a stroll. At this point, you’d like to think Jeonghan became a distant memory – just a fleeting interaction, but there are times that you do catch yourself wondering about him. You wonder what he’s up to, wonder if he’s gone on more blind dates, what would have happened if you were a little more forward and you reached out. 

“Oh,” Dami waved you off when you asked about how she got Jeonghan to agree to a blind date with her. “I was just as surprised as the rest of you – that blind date was actually supposed to be with Choi Seungcheol, but I’m not sure what happened. He’s cute, but Jeonghan’s not really my type.”

“I see,” you nodded, feeling a sense of relief for some weird reason. You snuggle your hands deeper into the pockets of your puffer jacket. 

A beat passed before Dami asked slowly, “Is Jeonghan your type though?”

You peer down at the shorter girl, quirking a curious eyebrow. 

“What?” she asked innocently. “It was totally obvious – he was head over heels for you.”

“As if,” you scoffed. “We literally just met that night.”

She bumped your shoulder lightly. “Ey, haven’t you heard of love at first sight?”

“I don’t believe in love at first sight,” you corrected her. “I hardly know him and vice versa; how is he supposed to like me already?”

“It’s just . . . a vibe, I guess,” Dami tried to reason, “He liked your vibe.”

“Very scientific,” you replied sarcastically.

“I’m just saying,” Dami shrugged, “I may be a hopeless romantic, but I’ve never seen Jeonghan act out like that before.”

“Did you know him prior?” you asked curiously. 

Dami hummed, tapping her finger to her chin. “I knew of him and I’ve seen him here and there, but I never talked to him like that. Our circles never really overlapped, other than Seungcheol. Knowledge by observation – Jeonghan’s not really . . . he’s . . . gosh, kind of hard to explain.”

“How so?” your interest was piqued. 

“I don’t know . . . the way he talks . . . it feels like he’s flirting with everyone, but it’s never serious and he’s actually not? You’d think with how playful he is, he’d be an asshole,” Dami fumbled with her words. 

You felt your heart sink a little. “So what I’m hearing is . . . this was probably lust at best.”

“No! With you, it was different though! Agh – fuck, wish I was better with words,” Dami protested. 

“Doesn’t sound different.”

“Is he your type though?” Dami pressed again, nonetheless. 

You took a moment to contemplate, head skimming through your celebrity crushes, things you liked in old exes, things you didn’t like as you learned, growing up. Again, you hardly knew Jeonghan, but you’re slowly starting to piece together the person he seemed to be. He was the kind of man your mother warned you about: good-looking, sweet with their words and actions, but unpredictable – in a bad kind of way. 

Eventually, you shook your head, letting out a heavy breath. “Not really – he’s . . . too pretty,” you replied, “Wouldn’t bat an eye on him if I saw him on the metro.” Your voice trailed off as you were not in a mood to explain yourself further. Despite the certainty in your voice, the answer didn’t seem to settle well into your body, making you feel squeamish, a heavy sensation landing in your chest.  

So what if Jeonghan wasn’t your type?

Dami hummed in understanding, “I can see that.” She kicked the ball of snow in front of her. “Well then, it’s a good thing you won’t see him again, right?”

“Right.”

“What is your type then?” Dami asked. She quickly added, “Just asking for funsies.”

You smiled, appreciative that she’d indulge in your delusions every now and then. 

Just as you parted your lips to start, a deep voice bellowed your name from afar in front of the both of you. Dami and you lift your heads from the icy pavement, to find a broad young man standing a few feet away. His jacket was unzipped, sweater hanging loosely from his shoulders, just enough so that you can see his tattoo peeking out from underneath the collar. He grinned wide, eyes turning into crescents under his thick brows, cheeks and the tip of nose pink. 

“B-Baekho,” you stammered. Your lips wobble nervously as if they couldn’t decide whether to smile or hide the way your heart fluttered at the sight of him. “Hey.”

Despite your long-time crush standing before you, you had to make a conscious effort to quell the lingering thoughts of Jeonghan in the back of your mind. 

. . . .

You were wrong – you would see Yoon Jeonghan again. 

You and Jeonghan shared more mutual friends than you had thought. 

It’s Soonyoung’s birthday party. You’re not sure why, Soonyoung was full of surprises, but he invited a handful of his friends out to the outdoor ice skating rink about half an hour from campus. The plan was to hang out there for the afternoon before returning to his apartment for an evening of festivities. 

Jeonghan had changed his appearance since you last saw him. His once dark brown hair was now bleach blonde – he’d grown it out, the dark roots peaking through, but the bright ends hung shaggily, skimming over his long velvet lashes. At the chalet while lacing up his skates, he still donned those skittish grins and playful smirks whenever he was teasing his other friends, elbowing them and throwing his head back in a deep laughter, in contrast to his soft voice most days. 

You do your best to avoid him, sticking close with Dami (Soonyoung let you bring a plus one) on the rink or choosing to sit close to Wonwoo who opted to stay inside and watch from the chalet. Dami does a pretty good job keeping you busy, anyhow – the girl could hardly skate, clinging onto the walls and calling for you every time you strayed too far. It was moments like this you were thankful your mother put you in ice skating for a brief moment in your youth before you vehemently quit in fourth grade, terrified by the stories of professional figure skaters needing hip surgery and waking up early every Saturday for lessons. It also seemed like Jeonghan was facing the same challenge with the birthday boy. Out of the corner of your eyes every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of Soonyoung bent over at a 90 degree angle, hands outstretched clinging onto Jeonghan’s hands like his life depended on it. 

“Y/N!” Dami called for the umpteenth time that afternoon. “Y/N! Hey!”

You huffed, growing tired of slowing down for your friend. You loved her! Don’t get it wrong, it’s just you wanted at least one round, where you could whiz around the rink and awaken those skater muscles you once built. 

You spun around to face her, skating backwards. “Dami, I think we should get you one of those skating walkers–”

“No, you idiot!” she cried, pointing behind you aggressively, “Watch out!”

Her warning proved too late, however. By the time you faced forward again, you came crashing into a familiar blob of white puffer and a high-pitched, but husky shriek. A set of arms wrapped around your body and you curled yourself inwards, allowing yourself to take refuge into whoever had been your demise and your savior. Mittens clinging onto the slippery material of their coat, you squeeze your eyes shut, letting your fumbling feet still so no one tripped and you both fell. 

The both of you eventually hit the side of the rink, eliciting a quiet ‘umph’ from the mystery person. The trauma of the impact seemed to linger a little longer; you were afraid to open your eyes to see yourself sailing towards a whole crowd of people despite feeling yourself still. 

“Um,” the person shifted uncomfortably. They tapped your shoulder before trying to peel you off of them, “Y-you can let go.”

You peel your lids open, one by one, cautiously to make sure you were no longer moving. Eventually, you relax, pulling back a little – still holding on nonetheless. 

The person cleared their throat, prompting you to look up. 

Fuck.

Jeonghan gave you a tight lipped smile, “Hey.”

“Uh, hi,” you replied, awkwardly. 

“You can let go now,” he looked around, leaning back into the board, “People are staring.”

“Oh, right,” you pushed yourself back, letting your skates drift you away. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Jeonghan pretended to be busy and brushed off the invisible wrinkles in his coat. 

A beat passed as he straightened out, catching your gaze and letting it linger. You feel your heartbeat hastened, his stare making you nervous and stirring up other feelings in your stomach, but you don’t dare look away – it was weirdly addicting. 

“Um well,” Jeonghan finally said, he nodded once, “It was nice seeing you around.”

You panicked, launching yourself towards him and catching his elbow. “Wait!”

Jeonghan threw you a confused look over his shoulder, quietly waiting for you to continue. 

“W-wait,” you whispered again under your breath. You inhaled harshly, eyes flickering up to meet him before dropping them to his black and white, scuffed rental skates. “D-do you maybe . . . wanna get hot cocoa?” You pointed back at the chalet and Jeonghan followed your mittens. 

He paused, expression unreadable. His brows knitted together, lips pressing into a thin line. He looks all over the place except for you, finally coming to a conclusion and answering, “Sure.”

“Cool,” you nodded.

He was the first to leave, skating towards the entrance of the rink. 

You followed quietly. 

Dami and Soonyoung watched from afar, both kneeling on the ice, one hand on the side board as their saviors left them to fend on their own. 

. . . .

The chalet was bustling with life: mothers with their young children in tow, friends bundled in layers as they waddled unsteadily in their skates towards the entrance, and others strewn across the wooden tables and benches. The young teens behind the cafe counter were certainly sweating away running between the cash register and the food warmers and coffee machines behind them. 

Jeonghan had graciously paid for your hot chocolates – not without a fight of course. You didn’t really want your drink to come with drinks attached. The two of you found a small table tucked away near the parking lot. It was a little quieter in this area, a little colder as well with the people coming and going. Nerves wracked your stomach as you tried to be as calm as possible, hopeful that he wouldn’t notice the regret lacing your entire body right now. You wonder if you got a concussion during that collision to even have the gall to invite him for a drink  after all these months. 

What would you even talk about? It’s not like your conversations during the double date were that deep. Let alone, who were you that he’d remember details about you?

The words exchanged between you and Jeonghan were far and few since the collision on ice – they were more so out of necessity. What you wanted to drink specifically, where you wanted to sit, be careful not to run into the kid whizzing across the chalet main floor. 

“You blocked my number,” Jeonghan blurted, interrupting your musing. You were only two sips into your hot chocolate, lips lifting off the rim of your white paper cup. He noted how the brown liquid faintly stained the rim where they once rested.

Jeonghan couldn’t hold it in much longer – the question was ruminating in the back of his mind for the past few months like an annoying fly they couldn’t swat in the house in the summer. He did his damn best to “let it go” like everyone said because “maybe it wasn’t meant to be.” However, it must mean something to have quite literally run into you now and you asked him to drink hot chocolate with you in the chalet, right? He wanted and needed to know your intentions.

Jeonghan watched you intently from the opposite side of the bench, your bustling surroundings melting away. You seemed to be in your own world, your silence ensuing. He noted how your left eyebrow twitched momentarily as if you were confused. It was quick to turn sly, your brow softening again, your lips curving into an amused smirk. It sent chills down Jeonghan’s spine to see your demeanor flip so quickly when you were coy moments earlier. Gears were turning – almost like you were plotting something. 

“And?” you asked, bringing up your paper cup of hot chocolate to your lips, the rim covering half of your face. 

Jeonghan snorted, shaking his head – the audacity!

“Yet, you’re asking to have a drink together?” Jeonghan continued. 

“How’d you get my number in the first place?” you asked instead. You raised a curious eyebrow. 

Jeonghan narrowed his gaze, setting his paper cup down roughly with a loud ‘clack’. The warm liquid sloshed around, threatening to spill over. “It’s rude to answer a question by asking another question.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning forward towards him as if to challenge him; pressing Jeonghan to answer your question rather than vice versa. However, what you didn’t know was that Jeonghan was a different breed of man. He did not fall easily under pressure in the presence of a woman he was attracted to – he could sit here in awkward silence as long as you wanted. 

You’re not sure how long this showdown actually lasted, losing track of time. Seconds to minutes past, your drinks turned lukewarm and condensation formed on the inside of the unfilled regions of the cup. Admittedly, Jeonghan did grow more frustrated with you; yet he remained hopeful you’d crack. No one could withstand the “Yoon stare,” as Seokmin had dubbed it a few months prior at a drinking party. Nonetheless, perhaps he was a masochist, because for some reason, he was enjoying the company of someone who could keep up with him. 

“Yah!” a shrill comes from across the room. 

It was only a matter of seconds before Soonyoung, tip of his nose pink, came stomping over, removed his waterproof glove, and smacked the back of Jeonghan’s shoulder. Dami wasn’t far behind, though less upset. She threw you a questioning look, one that told you that you were going to have to explain yourself afterwards. 

“And you!” Soonyoung pointed an accusing finger at you. He then pointed it back and forth between you and Jeonghan. “You both suck leaving us stranded and helpless on the ice! You know, a couple of twelve-year-olds had to help us off! Took us almost twenty minutes!”

You shot Soonyoung an apologetic look, muttering a quiet ‘sorry’ before he quipped again, asking, “Also, like . . .” His eyes darted at the cups of hot chocolate and the way you were arranged at the table. Pieces began to click together. “What is this?” he tried to sound angry, “A date or something? I didn’t even know you guys knew each other!”

“Yeah,” Dami piped up, “A date or something?”

You coughed at this, turning your head away from them. 

Jeonghan made a note of this, raising a curious brow, before turning to Soonyoung. He shrugged and answered, “Or something.”

“Ugh,” Soonyoung groaned, “So you guys are like that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeonghan asked. 

Soonyoung opened his mouth to answer, but Dami was quick to cut him off, an agenda of her own brewing. “Soonyoung, wanna grab a bite? And maybe some hot chocolate? My treat? We can go sit by Chan and Wonwoo over there.”

“But–”

“Great!”

Dami winked at Jeonghan, quickly pushing the birthday boy away. 

Jeonghan was really curious now. He turned back to you, who was still pretending to be fascinated by the old linoleum floors and the tips of your worn winter boots. 

“Yah,” Jeonghan called. 

You looked up, lips pursed. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said. 

“And you didn’t answer mine,” you replied. 

“Are you usually this irritating?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

Jeonghan let out a huff, blowing his blonde bangs. 

You were reaching for your cup and started to rise from your seat. 

“Hey, where are you–”

“You look better with brown hair by the way,” you deadpanned. You pointed at your own head, “It looked . . . healthier that way.”

Those were your last words before you set off towards Wonwoo’s and Chan’s table to join the others. 

If you were just anyone, Jeonghan might have shot some sassy comment back at your insult.  However, like never before, Jeonghan suddenly became anxious – as if you were slipping away like a balloon streamer threatening to drift away from a child’s hand in a windstorm. He felt his heart beginning to race and tongue took control of him. He spun in his seat and blurted after you instead, “Will I see you again?”

You paused in your stride before throwing a confused and mildly annoyed look over your shoulder. Your expression was quick to shift though. A shit-eating grin slowly stretching across your face, you explained casually, “Life . . . is full of surprises, Yoon Jeonghan. Only time can tell.” You raise your cup towards him in a final salute. 

“Touche,” Jeonghan muttered under his breath. .

Jeonghan watched you settle next to Wonwoo, bumping shoulders with your friend who only shot you an annoyed look when he raised his head from his book. Pushing his black-rimmed glasses up his nose, he said something, eliciting a frown and sending you into a pout. It must’ve been a tease because Wonwoo started to chuckle. 

Suddenly, another figure entered the scene – a well-built young man, bundled in a navy blue parka that framed his figure in a masculine manner. He had a broad set of shoulders and a thin waist – oh, he definitely worked out. To make matters worse, he was handsome: a sharp jaw and slim nose, his eyes seemingly cold due to their shape, but his gaze, at least towards you, was soft and warm. A pair of matching navy blue earmuffs donned either side of his face; his hair was immaculately well-styled in a side slick despite the wind outside. Jeonghan wondered how much gel he must’ve used to keep it that way. The man greeted you with a few word, possibly a question to sit next to you as far as Jeonghan could tell, because you nodded and scooted over to make room for him. The young man is grinning, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, eyes curving into crescents and he settled in, shoulders bumping against yours. Wonwoo was smooshed up the side of the wall, seemingly displeased though continued to read uninterrupted. Jeonghan found it all the more interesting just how friendly and smiley you were with him relative to himself just moments earlier. 

Jeonghan would never admit it out loud, but it kind of . . . infuriated him? An unsettling feeling overcame his chest, Jeonghan unknowingly shifting in his seat, fingers crushing the paper cup of hot chocolate a little tighter.

“You’re jealous,” Seungcheol said, approaching his best friend behind. 

Jeonghan looked up then back to you. “Am not.”

“I saw you guys sitting together earlier,” Seungcheol remarked. 

“Yeah – she offered.”

“Oh?”

“But then totally blew me off.”

“Yet, all chummy with Mr. Broad and Handsome, over there,” Seungcheol spoke his mind. He chuckled like the asshole he could be.

“Shut up, will you?” Jeonghan snapped. 

“Jealous?” Seungcheol patted his back. 

“Am not!” Jeonghan screeched a little too defensively.

Seungcheol shook his head, doing his best to suppress his growing grin.

“Then answer me this,” Seungcheol started, “For some reason, despite not knowing much about her, despite her ‘blowing you off,’ there’s a piece of you that still wants to get to know her better. Am I right?”

Jeonghan paused for a moment, considering his friend’s words. Never had Seungcheol made him feel so conflicted. It wouldn’t make sense for him to want to get to know you better after that rude encounter, but the tension from earlier was . . . thrilling? Also, in your defense, you weren’t exactly intentionally rude – he had accused you first of flaking on him, still unclear if you actually did or didn’t. It was kind of addicting and a piece of him was curious as to how far he could push you and vice versa. 

An enigma he couldn’t resolve. 

“I-I guess?”

Seungcheol clapped suddenly, each one staccato and slow. “And so, Yoon Jeonghan meets his match.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jeonghan asked. 

Seungcheol shrugged, “You’ll see – only time can tell.”

That’s what she said. 

. . . .

“How did Jeonghan get my phone number?” 

“He did?”

“Apparently, he did – but I didn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me.”

Wonwoo shrugged. 

“You said he was into me.”

“What about you? Are you into him?”

Silence.

. . . .

It’s the early spring, a month before graduation, when you see each other again – much to Jeonghan’s dismay. 

Many things have changed, one of them being that Dami and Soonyoung started dating a couple of weeks after their traumatic encounter on the ice. They’re sickeningly cute, but the important thing was that they made so much sense. Though they were still early on in their relationship, it could very well just be the ‘honeymoon phase,’ but fights were far and few between. They were two wholesome souls with hardworking drives, lifting each other up, yet also somehow knowing what the other needs. All it took was a simple glance from across the room, Jeonghan would imagine some sort of telepathy going on between them before Soonyoung waddled over Dami and whispered a few words to her, her glum expression brightening instantaneously and vice versa.

Even Jeonghan couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy at the sight of them. A part of him was envious. Not in a toxic sense, but also longing when he’d meet his soulmate like that – not that he was some hopeless romantic and believed in soulmates or anything (he’d like to think had some agency in choosing his partner, rather than leaving it up to the good old hands of fate), but there was a nice feeling to the thought of being with someone who just got you like that. 

Many things had also not changed, the main one being his perennial quest to get close to you. 

Or perhaps rather, the lack thereof. 

Jeonghan spent the last several months debating if he should contact you again. You blocked his number; would it be right of him to slide into your Instagram DM’s? You didn’t follow one another, however, which made things all the more complex.

Yet, your last few words lingered in the back of his mind: Life is full of surprises, Yoon Jeonghan. Only time can tell.

What did that even mean? Were you hinting at him to pursue you? Was that your way of avoiding him?

Ironically, Jeonghan relented and decided to leave this up to fate. Seungcheol urged him to reach out to you, claiming the worst thing you could say to him was ‘no’, but Jeonghan wasn’t sure he could handle that currently – not when you left off on such a weird note. 

Maybe whatever gods out there were on his side, however, because Jeonghan ran into again at a karaoke bar. The two of you had more mutual friends than you thought – or rather really, you ended up being Wonwoo’s plus one to all these things, showing up glued to his hip. 

Neon color lights dance across the dark room with tacky, faux leather orange benches, as Minghao and Seokmin sing a trot rendition of Beyonce’s ‘All the Single Ladies,’ the latter somehow acquiring a sogo drum and beating an out of tune rhythm across the room. You were tucked away in a corner wedged in between Wonwoo and that handsome man from the chalet again. Despite the lively energy, you were only quietly swaying, seemingly lost in another world. The handsome man (Jeonghan had come to learn that his name was ‘Baekho’) whispered something in your ear every now and then, maybe checking up on you, but you’d only respond with a tight smile, quick to divert your eyes from him to your hands. Jeonghan couldn’t decide if it was out of coyness or you weren’t truly up to being here tonight. 

Jeonghan didn’t try to sit next to you when he arrived. For one reason being he’d arrived late so you were already settled and didn’t pay mind to him. The other reason being he didn’t want to raise suspicions trying to wedge himself between you and Baekho. 

Just what was exactly your relationship with Baekho? With how he seemed to whisper so tenderly to your ear, Jeonghan was almost inclined to think you were dating, but your eyes seemed so . . . hollow? It wasn’t quite the same as the way Dami’s orbs lit up when she saw Soonyoung. 

“Quit staring,” Seungcheol elbowed Jeonghan, interrupting his musing. Jeonghan winced, shooting Seungcheol a dirty look. 

“I wasn’t,” Jeonghan remarked. 

Seungcheol waved off his friend. “You should go talk to her – or at least say ‘hi.’”

“And why would I do that?” Jeonghan retorted stupidly, instantly regretting the words that just spewed from his mouth. 

His best friend gave him an incredulous look. “This is the first time you see her in months and that’s what you’re telling me? Please! You’re about to burn holes into Baekho’s head with those laser eyes of yours – no one is not not noticing the way your eyes keep lingering over to them.”

“Who am I to interfere with whatever they have?” Jeonghan waved his hand at some abstract object in the air as if it represented your relationship with Baekho. 

“Yoon Jeonghan – that’s who,” Seungcheol shoved him roughly, nearly sending him sailing out of his seat. 

“Hey!” his footing stuttered and if it weren’t for his fast, he would’ve face planted into the table.

“Go!” Seungcheol hissed. 

Eyes were already starting to linger on Jeonghan, the young man having no choice but to play it cool like he was getting up to go somewhere. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught you looking at him momentarily, heating his spine up and making him feel stupidly giddy. He let out a quiet cough, relaxing his shoulder and slipping his hand into his jean pocket, stepping over people’s feet in your direction. 

If he can’t put himself between you and Baekho, he’ll just ask Wonwoo to scoot over – no biggie, right?

Jeonghan was only about two steps away when he opened his mouth to greet you. However, you were quick to ignore him, shifting out of your seat and pointed to the exit of the karaoke room, whispering something quick to Baekho. He stood up, making room for you to leave and you scurried towards the opaque door. 

Well, fuck.

 “Your luck is terrible,” Wonwoo remarked. He scooted over to make room for Jeonghan. With a heavy sigh, the bleach blonde man flopped into the empty spot. If the others weren’t now belting Justin Bieber at the top of their lungs, you would’ve heard the hard impact between Jeonghan’s body and this godly uncomfortable bench. 

“Well, gee – thanks, like I didn’t know,” Jeonghan replied sarcastically. 

“I’m . . . impressed, honestly,” Wonwoo crossed his arms over his chest. 

“About what?”

“You’ve never been hung up on someone for this long – let alone, not make a move,” Wonwoo explained further. 

“Well I mean, I kind of left a sour taste in her mouth,” Jeonghan noted. 

Wonwoo tilted his head to the side, glancing at his friend from the side. Jeonghan ceased to notice, both due to the way the light from the flat screen was dancing across his glasses and he was simply lost in his own heartsick musing. 

“What did you do?” Wonwoo asked carefully. 

“Didn’t she tell you?” Jeonghan scoffed. “I confronted her about her blocking my number.”

“She blocked your number?” Wonwoo said slowly – asking more than he was stating. 

Ugh – why was he was playing stupid? Jeonghan thought you were good friends!

“Yeah,” Jeonghan kicked at the linoleum with the toe of his sneaker. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

Wonwoo kept a straight face, only nodding. He quietly noted that maybe he just forgot – he was busy these days. However, what Jeonghan doesn’t know is that Wonwoo was finally and slowly putting all the pieces of your prefatory love story together.

Oh, how miscommunication was an amazing plot tool. 

“You should go check on her,” Wonwoo nudged Jeonghan after a moment. 

“Huh?” Jeonghan knitted his brows together. “Why?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “She’s been gone for a bit – said, she went to get air. Tell her I sent you.”

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes on his friend. Just what was he playing at?

Wonwoo leaned in close, “Or would you rather me ask Baekho to go check on her?”

That was the impetus Jeonghan needed, snapping out of his suspicious daze and getting up from his seat. 

It was now or never.

. . . .

You don’t seem to notice Jeonghan when he tumbled out the front door of the karaoke bar, leaning against the red brick wall, eyes trained up in the sky. Jeonghan looked up briefly to see what you were looking at, only to note the gray heavy clouds blocking the moon and the stars. The streets were starting to become more dynamic as people were filling up the streets. Young couples giggled, hand-in-hand, groups of friends bellowing out in laughter at inside jokes, while elderly shop owners pitched their tent – their grills starting to heat up the grease that were just slathered across them. 

Yet, you only continued to sigh and look at the sky, your vibe not quite matching the eccentricity of what was going on inside or outside. 

Jeonghan neared you, hands tucked in his jeans still, scuffing the dark pavement as he called out, “Hey.”

You look down and to the side at the sound of his voice. 

“Hi,” you greeted him with a tight smile before looking away. 

He teetered on the balls of his feet. “Whatcha doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you said. This sent Jeonghan back to your conversation at the skating chalet. However, your tone is less lively and playful this time – half-hearted. 

“It’s rude to answer a question by asking another question, you know?” Jeonghan joked. 

You chortled softly, “It wasn’t actually a question.”

Jeonghan took another step towards you, opting to stand a few feet away from you, side-by-side. “Same difference.”

Neither of speak further, letting silence envelope you both once more and suddenly it just felt like him and you in this little space despite the night coming alive around you. The silence is different this time though, in that rather than tension, there was comfort – a mutual, unspoken understanding that it was just needed. 

Jeonghan almost relished it, until his intrusive thoughts remembered–

“Wonwoo sent me to check on you by the way,” he blurted. 

You smile small, “That bastard.”

“Huh?”

You looked up at Jeonghan. “Well, you checked up on me,” you gestured back to the building behind you. “You can go back – I’m okay.”

Jeonghan cocked his head slightly at you, a crease forming between his brows as he takes you in. There was a bite to all your responses, but it lacked your usual flair. He’s not sure what it was exactly, but something told him maybe, you weren’t as okay as you led onto be. 

“What?” you asked when he didn’t reply or move. 

Sometimes, maybe it was better not to think too hard about it, Jeonghan decided. 

Maybe, he just needed to do what felt right. 

“Do you . . .” his voice trailed off as he hesitated for a moment, but he picked up right again. “Do you wanna go for a walk actually?”

You were taken aback, shoulders settling back and your faux smile falling into a small pout instead. 

Despite his cool and collected demeanor that he hoped he was displaying, in his head, he was quietly chanting, “Please say yes,” as if it was a mantra that would trance you into going on this walk with him. 

Maybe it does work, however, because even though you don’t say ‘yes,’ you take off in a direction without him. Jeonghan froze momentarily, in disbelief and relief, jaw slack and small breath escaping his lips. 

You must’ve sensed the lack of his presence behind you because you spin around, your jean pleated skirt twirling prettily in the process. 

Cocking your head at him, you simply asked, “Coming?”

Maybe, Jeonghan should leave it up to fate more. 

(Or just Wonwoo.)

. . . .

Fate was cruel. 

And Jeonghan was over dramatic and impatient – at least, in Seungcheol’s eyes. 

The walk that evening was rather uneventful, but it gave Jeonghan hope – so much damn hope. Initially, Jeonghan only tailed you until you asked him why he was doing that and he jogged to walk beside you. Naturally, your footsteps fell in sync, Jeonghan wondering if he was the only one who noticed. Far and few words were exchanged like at the skating center, but neither of you minded. Like prior, the silence was tranquil, bringing a sense of calm and comfort to the both of you. You seemed to relax, a genuine smile springing on your face as you passed various shops, eyes lighting up at the sight of the few bakeries and the few childish remarks of trinkets in the windowsill. 

To be frank, and Jeonghan wasn’t always, even with himself, you were fucking adorable – and he wanted to know this feeling more. This sensation that melted his heart every time his gaze flickered over to you, this joy that fills his body and courses through his veins; yet despite all this heart fluttering sensation, there was a sense of simplicity and effortlessness that accompanied it all. It made him feel like he could do this . . . for a long time. 

Maybe he was insane and beyond himself – he hardly knew anything about you, but he liked it. He wasn’t sure he felt this way before. He was a non-believer of love at first sight, but a piece of him wanted to defy this reality he knew. He wondered if this is how Soonyoung felt about Dami on the regular. 

Jeonghan doesn’t find out why you were feeling down earlier that evening. Jeonghan doesn’t ask to exchange Instagram’s with you. Jeonghan doesn’t ask when he will see you again because he knew he would – he had to. 

He reveled about you to Seungcheol. The short twenty minute walk felt like a lifetime; when it came to a halt and you arrived back at the karaoke bar and how he didn’t want to go inside, but he did anyway. He wondered what you did the next day and the day after. Did you go back to those bakeries with anyone? Did you buy that scarf you were eyeing through the clear glass?

But okay, maybe it was a mistake to leave it all up to fate. The thrill of it was quick to fade and entered misery and longing. 

Jeonghan didn’t meet you again until graduation.  

Countless, prolonged, corny speeches about the future and hard work given, long lines of people waiting for their empty diploma cases passed, a flurry of black caps thrown, tears cried, cheers shouted, and hugs exchanged later, Jeonghan spotted you in the middle of an aisle by yourself. You were waving good-bye to a classmate before you turned to walk down the path of green grass alone. Eyes trained on the ground, one foot in front of another, you unknowingly made your way towards him. There was a smalling, toothless smile on your face slowly fading with each step. 

You must’ve sensed his presence because you stopped a few feet away. The smile returned, making Jeonghan’s heart skip a beat. His face mirrored your own, the world seeming to fade around the both of you once again. 

“Hey stranger,” you quipped. He was holding his graduation cap in one hand. You note how his roots were showing, the bleach blonde growing and now shading over his eyes. 

“Hey,” he greeted. Folding his hands behind him, he took a few steps closer towards you. He tipped his head forward, “Congratulations.”

You saluted him and sent a playful wink in his direction. “You likewise.”

Jeonghan chuckled. His eyes wandered up to the sky a bit as his next question formed. How did he ask this without making it too obvious?

“What are your plans after all of this?” Jeonghan asked. He held his hands out, gesturing to the field of new graduates greeting their friends and family joyfully. 

“Um,” you chuckled, “Dinner with my family probably?” You scratched your head and looked around for them briefly before turning back to him. Your lips parted to ask ‘you’, but Jeonghan beat you to it.

“No,” Jeonghan chuckled, waving you off, “I meant like . . . future-future – career plans and all.”

“Oh,” you said, your voice much softer now. “That.”

Jeonghan tilted his head curiously. 

“I’ll be . . . around,” you pressed your lips together and chuckled softly, “Um . . . I’m honestly not sure – what I had planned, didn’t pan out.”

There was a flash of worry across your face – Jeonghan probably presuming you were thinking he thought you were pathetic and a failure. However, that was not how he felt. If anything, his heart panged for you a little. He didn’t claim to know what you were feeling, heck, he hardly knew much about you still – Jeonghan would like to think he knew a thing or two about disappointment. 

“C-can I?” he stammered. He opened his arms for you slightly, quietly asking for a hug. 

Your eyes widened. “U-um.” Your feet were already clumsily tripping over one another towards him though. 

Jeonghan pulled you in, your lips pressed into the shoulder of his graduation gown. Initially tense in his hold, with each breath, his woody cologne overwhelming your senses, the hug became more bearable . . . comfortable. You relaxed, bringing your hands up around his waist. You felt him patting your back gently as if to quietly reassure you. 

“The world doesn’t just end because one plan went awry,” he offered. 

You snorted and joked,  “Just what I needed – another speech on resilience.”

Jeonghan pulled away, grinning at you really hard. He could’ve sworn he probably looked like an idiot, but he didn’t really care – this could be the last time he saw you ever. 

“The world has a funny way of working out,” Jeonghan pressed on. “Fate . . . it isn’t too bad – most of the time.”

“Darling!” you heard your mother call from behind you. Instantly, your cheeks grew hot, already envisioning 101 scenarios as to how this conversation would go with Jeonghan meeting your family like this. Your mother in particular, was a fickle woman who had a lot of predictions. 

“There you are!” your younger brother jumped on you, hooking his arm around your neck. 

“Congratulations!” you heard one of your cousins shout as well, wedging celebratory balloons between you and Jeonghan. 

Jeonghan chuckled to himself. His heart sinking a little – maybe this is all you and Jeonghan would be to each other. 

“Who’s this, Y/N?” your mother asked, of course, first of all people and things. She gestured to Jeonghan. Her eyes were curious, scanning him up and down. 

Your younger brother released you and you straightened yourself out. You waved for Jeonghan to hold up his hand to greet your mom. 

“Mom, this is Yoon Jeonghan, my uh . . .” 

What were you two exactly?

“Friend,” Jeonghan finished for you. “Y/N’s friend – we met through Wonwoo.”

“Friend?” your mom repeated suspiciously. 

“Friend,” Jeonghan nodded in reassurance. 

“Friend,” you said again – it left a funny taste in your mouth though. 

“Well, pleasure to meet you,” your mom took his hand. Your dad, a kind, but quieter man, followed shortly after. 

After some small talk, Jeonghan excused himself from your family, explaining he needed to find his own. He gave you one last longing look when he said goodbye, sending you off with a small wave of his shoulder. It was accompanied by a tender smile; a bittersweet tint to his eyes. It made your heartache a little, a sense of panic overtaking you when your family pulled you away.

You decided, you didn’t want this to be the last time you saw Yoon Jeonghan. 

Yes, perhaps, he did mention moving to another city for his new job, but that didn’t matter. You didn’t want to lose this chance. 

You asked your cousin to lend you a pen and hastily rip out a scrap of the placeholder in your diploma (it wasn’t your actual degree anyways – that would be coming in the mail after your finals were graded). Quickly, you scribble your phone number onto it. Folding it up, you excuse yourself briefly from your family, not caring if your mom noticed and would lecture you later about how girls shouldn’t make the first move and that if Jeonghan liked you, he would’ve already asked you out. 

“Jeonghan!” you shouted. 

He turned around, a few steps away from who you presumed was his family. They also tuned in, eyes turning to observe the interaction. 

He was smiling, though evidently confused. 

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you marched towards him and held up the folded paper in your hand, gesturing for him to take it. He didn’t take it. His eyes only flickered from you then the paper, then back at you. 

When he doesn’t make a move, you reach for his wrist, pressing it into his palm and folding his fingers over, ignoring the way your cheeks felt ablaze.

“See you around, Yoon Jeonghan.”

. . . .

[Jeonghan]: You fucker

[Wonwoo]: Excuse me?

[Jeonghan]: [insert image]

[Jeonghan]: Your handwriting is HORRENDOUS!

[Jeonghan]: It was a 4 not a 6!

[Wonwoo]: LMAO

[Jeonghan]: Fuck you

[Wonwoo]: Hey – think of it as part of the plot. You’ll thank me later. 

[Jeonghan]: Whatever

[Wonwoo]: Well???

[Jeonghan]: ?

[Wonwoo]: Are you just gonna curse me or are you going to text her!?

. . . .

[Uknonwn number]: Hi 🙂

[Unknown number]: This is Yoon Jeonghan – please don’t block me!

[Unknown number]: . . . um hello?

[Unknown number]: omg did i fuck this up again

[Y/N]: [your message not delivered]

[jeonghan]: well fuck. 

[Y/N]: Haha – jk. 

[Y/N]: Hi Jeonghan 🙂

. . . .

You and Jeonghan found yourselves texting daily and calling nearly nightly. It started out as simple banter, but evolved to mundane questions of what you ate for lunch to 3AM discussions ranging anywhere from your post-bac thesis to whether straws had one or two holes. 

The calls at night were short on the weekdays, but they were disgustingly long on the weekends. Rather than going out on Friday nights, Jeonghan would make excuses to not go to the bar with his new colleagues as to just be able to talk with you on the phone for hours and hours. At some point, they caught on that Friday nights were reserved for you, teasing him about the much anticipated call as they left the office. Jeonghan being the seemingly transparent and nonchalant man he is, just chuckled and brushed it off. 

Typically, he’d give you a ring around 8PM on FaceTime. He’d watch you cook, maybe even eat his delivery while you ate dinner, and you’d talk for hours thereafter about everything and nothing into the early morning hours, only stopping when you drifted off to sleep or he claimed he was aging prematurely and was tired. 

“Hey, can I ask you something?” you whispered into your phone one evening. His end of the call was already dark, only a lamp in the distance illuminating his features. You peaked up to see him keeping one eye open underneath his bed of hair that was an ashy sombre now, blending his dark roots with a more neutral blonde. 

He hummed softly, signaling he was still there. “Technically, you just did.”

You chortled. “Prick – maybe I won’t.”

“I’m kidding,” he raised his head to look at you. Sleep was heavy on his eyes, his lids weighing down. “What’s up?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you decide to forgo the question that has been haunting you recently. You opt to redirect the conversation in another direction instead. 

“I got an internship,” you told him. 

This truly woke him off. “What? Y/N, that’s amazing! Congratulations! Where at?”

“Park Consultants,” you told him, “But, I’m not sure I should take it.”

“Love, what?” Jeonghan said, confused.

You pretend to bury you face in frustration, but you were really trying to hide the way your lips wobbled at the nickname: Love. 

When did the two of you get this far?

Despite things going well between you and Jeonghan, there were always those thoughts that lingered in your mind. 

It was clear, there was nothing ‘just platonic’ about your relationship, as Wonwoo had pointed out several times. “Just get married already!” he’d joke. 

Yet, the unconventional nature of it, made you wary. 

It was only when Jeonghan moved away did the two of you become closer and it didn’t sit well with you. You remember vehemently telling Dami you couldn’t do long distance relationships – you had trust issues and were the jealous type. Yet, here you were glued to your phone most times of the day you weren’t working to talk to him. Your perspective of him was limited to a small rectangular screen – was he really who he presented himself to be? Your mother had always warned you about men like Jeonghan too – charming and playful with a smooth tongue, but snakes behind your back. You wondered if he was seeing someone else. In technicality, it was within his right; the two of you weren’t anything in particular. She also told you once that girls should not initiate, but be pursued – at least from graduation on, that was definitely not your story. 

“I wonder,” you stabbed your wooden spoon into your ice cream turning to Wonwoo, “Could it be that I just . . . like him because he reassured me at my lowest?”

You and Wonwoo had met up for ice cream. Tonight, Jeonghan’s family was visiting him, so he had told you ahead of time he couldn’t call as he would be spending time with him. The topic of you and Jeonghan resurfaced and you needed a reasonable sounding board. 

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo sniffled, feeling the tip of his nose grow cold from the chilled treat. 

“I just don’t want to end up being one of those girls who fall for someone because he was like, my ‘knight in shining armor’ who whisked me away when I was a damsel in distress,” you explained. “Graduate school didn’t quite pan out – I had just gotten rejected when we went on that walk that night we went to the karaoke bar and then graduation. I’m just worried I’m swooning for the wrong reason. I don’t want my relationship to be hinged on pity and depending on him.”

Wonwoo snorted, much to your surprise. Your expression was quick to change into a scowl. “What?”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” Wonwoo pushed his glasses up the ridge of his nose. “When were you ever a damsel in distress? And if anything, Jeonghan was never and will never be anyone’s knight in shining armor.”

“I don’t think you get it,” you muttered, picking at the clump of cookie dough. 

“Yes,” Wonwoo swallowed the ice cream left in his mouth before continuing. “You may have met him at your lowest, but that’s not what matters. He didn’t save you and you didn’t save him. Neither of you needed saving to begin with – you’re both capable of picking yourselves up in the situation as shown.” Wonwoo held out his hands, “The way I see it, he was the first person you could readily be vulnerable with and that is what matters. Someone you feel safe with – amidst other things of course. Y/N you could hardly meet up with me that week and Jeonghan did it in the matter of seconds. I think that says something.”

“But you know, my mom said–”

“Fuck what your mom says – trust yourself for once, okay?” Wonwoo rolled his eyes. To his defense, you’ve spiraled about your mother’s expectations for you to him many times before and it was tiring. It was rare that Wonwoo just swore like that. “Maybe he’s not the stellar, perfect future son-in-law she has preached your entire life, but that’s okay. Trust him – trust Jeonghan. Despite his annoying antics sometimes, he’s a good guy – he’s always been. If it’s meant to be, it’ll work out.”

. . . .

Jeonghan returned to the city almost a year and a half later for the holidays. The both of you try to arrange for plans to meet up, but in the spirit of the holiday season, timing doesn’t quite work out right due to family. Jeonghan invited you to his family Christmas party, but you suddenly became bashful, unsure of how he’d introduce you to his immediate family, let alone his cousins, grandparents, aunts, and uncles. 

Friend? Girlfriend? Friend girl?

You declined politely, explaining to him it was too overwhelming. Gratefully, Jeonghan was understanding, promising to stay in town a little longer after the New Year’s for you – it made you feel all weird and tingling inside. 

Like you were special. 

Nonetheless, you were fated to meet once more before that as Minghao and his now fiance threw a New Year’s Eve party at his penthouse and you were both invited. You were unsure if Jeonghan would make it, however, as he mentioned his younger sister had a small celebration she wanted him to attend. You end up third wheeling Soonyoung and Dami to the party as Soonyoung offered to drive, but mingle amongst the others. 

Just as you’re finding yourself getting more immersed in your conversation with Seungcheol and his girlfriend, the lighthearted and drunken banter regarding his tattoo experience was interrupted by a nerve wracking, but familiar, presence. Someone’s hand slipped around your waist, a warmth blooming across your body, the silver long-sleeved dress seemingly not so warm. Smile fading, you turn to the figure standing in the once empty spot on your left to find Jeonghan occupying the space with a playful smirk stretching from ear-to-ear. He gives Seungcheol an apologetic look and then pulls you closer into his side. The latter grinned, raising his cup in greeting and a silent good luck.

Despite his flirtatious advances, there was a glint of alarm and plea in his eyes. Your lips parted to question him, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, Jeonghan leaned forward, turning his head to better dip into the junction of your neck and shoulder. Whether it was intentional or unintentional, his lips grazed against the shell of your ear. The waft of soju about him stung your nose; the warm, small breeze from his small, hesitant breath made you shudder. You gripped your own red solo cup a little tighter, crinkling the edges in the process. 

There was no ‘hello’, ‘I missed you’, and no wave. He simply leaned in and asked, “Dance with me?” His voice was low, loud enough just for you to hear as if he was sharing a secret no one else dares to know. 

He was wiggling his eyebrows playfully when he pulled back to look at you. The way he tugged you towards the crowd in the living room, fingers hooking tightly with yours, told you there really wasn’t a choice. 

Whether you want to or not, you were going to dance with him. 

Jeonghan handed off his red solo cup to a random presumed man standing by, chatting up a girl in a strapless silver mini dress. The stranger looked confused, but Jeonghan didn’t mind – his eyes were trained on you, as if you were the only person in the room. The bodies bumping into him didn’t seem to bother him; his grip on your hand was unrelenting, fearful to lose you amidst the sea of intoxicated party goers. His roguish expression made your breath hitch; you had to consciously remind yourself to breathe. 

Your musing was interrupted by Jeonghan’s sudden pull. Swiftly, your feet tumbled over one another and before you could register, you were flushed against his chest. Jeonghan brought up his hand, ghosting against the small of your back until his arm is fully wrapped around your waist.

“What are you doing?” you muttered, pressing a hand to his chest. 

He grinned like you were the only thing at this party that brought him joy.

“That’s no way to greet a friend after so long,” Jeonghan frowned. 

“Neither is sleazily dragging me onto the dance floor,” you faked a pout, “Consent in this day and age is sexy, Jeonghan.”

“Like you’d say no to dancing with me,” he teased. “But if you insist,” he stepped back and gave you a knowing look. “Would you like to dance with me, Miss Y/N?”

You giggled girlishly, nodding and extending an arm for him to come back. 

He had a point – you’re not sure what you wouldn’t let Jeonghan do at this point. 

The music suddenly slows, the fast and heavy beat melding into something mellower. 

Fate was cruel, but sometimes, it was nice. 

(Or maybe Wonwoo just requested Jihoon to DJ a slower song – just a thought.)

“How’ve you been?” Jeonghan finally asked. He peered at you, the lights bouncing off his dark irises. His steps slowed and you followed, rocking from side to side to meet the new rhythm. 

“You ask that as if we don’t talk every day,” you remarked. You’re embarrassed, nonetheless, turning your head so you don’t meet his eyes. 

“It has been precisely fourteen days and,” Jeonghan peered at his watch quickly, “twelve-ish hours since we last talked on the phone. A lot can happen in that time.”

“Yeah?” you challenged. “Such as?”

He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully as he came to a halt. Hand slipping down to link with your own, he ran his thumb across your knuckles as he finally caught your gaze. You were nervous – or maybe, it was just the champagne coursing through your veins. Your eyes were blown wide and glossy, breathing shallow. You were still, holding your arms close to your body. He did wonder if there was a piece of him that fucked up. 

“Could I show you instead?” Jeonghan asked. 

He didn’t wait for an answer, only holding onto your hand firmly and weaving in and out of the crowd until you met a set of stairs that led you to the top floor of the penthouse. 

Oh my god . . . he wouldn't, right?

Jeonghan moved to a room on the left, twisting the pearly white knob, and pausing briefly to make sure it was empty before entering. 

He pulled you in, shutting and locking the door behind you. It was dark – only the city lights and slivers of the waxing moon slipping through the murky white tulle curtains. It lit up a slit from the large balcony window, tracing a path to Jeonghan and you, who were now pressed up against the door. 

He was awfully close – one tip of your chin and your lips would touch. 

Wait – what!?

Why were you thinking about kissing him?

The franticness of it all must’ve been evident on your features, Jeonghan’s sly grin only growing further, eyes curving to mimic the moon. There was a wink of light in his dark brown orbs – warm, mischievous– before he pushed away, tucking his hands into his suit pants. 

“Just kidding,” he finally quipped.

You let out a small breath and ease away from the door. 

He pointed a teasing finger at you, “You were flustered, weren’t you?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. Your palms grew sweaty and the tips of your ears grew hot. You were about to turn and open the door again, when you heard Jeonghan quietly call for you to wait. 

You spun around to face him again, finding him scratching his temple, he turned back to face you. “That’s not why I brought you here.”

“Huh?” you questioned. 

“I figured it was time to ask you, um . . . be an adult about it,” he continued. Jeonghan smiled at you, his lips in a tilt as he was amused but trying so hard to stick to the agenda. He muttered, “Wonwoo said you would never get it until I asked like this so . . .” Before you have a chance to question him again, Jeonghan sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, inhaling sharply. “Look, I’m not the best at being . . . uh, explicit about my feelings, but for you, I figured I could be, but um . . . say, uh, what do you say, love?”

And your world stopped, breath hitching. Your dress suddenly felt too tight. 

What did he just call you?! Again!

“I . . . like you a lot and I have for quite some time now, if you haven’t noticed,” Jeonghan pressed on. He exhaled deeply, letting out a quiet whoosh. Jeonghan tilted his head back and fidgeted for a moment, eliciting at a quiet chortle from you. “What if we tried this . . . dating thing? Yeah?”

The tension Jeonghan felt now was unbearable. It was different from the one at the skating chalet, different from the one at the karaoke bar. Like a rubber band pulled taut to its wits end, he was barely holding on as your quietness ensued. 

You suddenly start laughing, throwing your head back in guffaw and slapping your knee. Jeonghan was a bit scared – both just of you and what that meant. Did you not feel the same? Was he the one who got played? 

Did he really just rearrange his life to be rejected?

Heels clicking against the wooden floorboards, your laughter died down as you made your way towards him. Each step felt so long and far away, but it was only a matter of seconds before your arms were wrapped around his neck. Your fingers played with the fringes of his back hairs, eyes gazing up at him – indecipherable, if he was being honest. 

Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t as good at reading you as he thought. 

Taking him by surprise, you placed a chaste kiss on his lips. It was brief, but it burned – it was efficient if your goal was to suck all the air out of Jeonghan’s lungs in the matter of the two seconds your lips touched. 

That or he was just stunned at your boldness – it was hard to predict. 

“You look nice with black hair, by the way,” you noted when you pulled away. Your ran your hand through the front fringes, then teased them back into place. 

“What–”

You tiptoed, giving him another kiss – this one longer. He wasn’t prepared, stiff at first, but quick to lean into it and adjust himself to better slot your lips together. Jeonghan gripped onto your waist, the material of your dress bunching into his hands. 

“Took you long enough, asshole,” you muttered in between pecks when you pulled away. Jenoghan’s lips chased after you, not quite ready to let go. 

“Hey! Your best friend was the one who gave me the wrong number,” Jeonghan shot back. “We could’ve been dating two years ago.”

“Not my fault he writes like a third grader,” you chuckled. 

“He said it was for the plot.”

“Can we just stop talking about Wonwoo when we’re kissing? It feels kind of weird.”

“You know, if you think about it, he’s kind of the main character without being the main character.”

“Okay,” you pulled away, pushing at his chest lightly.

“Wait!” Jeonghan giggled, “Come back – I’ll stop.”

“If we stay here any longer, people will get the wrong idea,” you tried to come up with an excuse.

Jeonghan wiggled his brows playfully, pulling you back. “Like I care?”

. . . .

[Present]

“So, that’s why the joke was that Nina was conceived that night,” Wonwoo explained to Leah. 

“But she wasn’t because timing wise that wouldn’t make sense – I didn’t carry her for a year and a half,” you interjected. You quickly added, “We didn’t do anything either – just kissed and Jeonghan’s social battery was low so we stayed there until midnight and then I fell asleep.”

“I get that – don’t worry,” Leah waved you off. “But . . . uh, the two of you got married pretty fast then – only a year of dating, huh?”

You and Jeonghan looked at each other, gaze softening. 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan shrugged nonchalantly, “I mean that and a year and a half of missed opportunities and pining, but  . . . I dunno, it just made sense.”

You nodded in agreement. 

“That’s sweet,” Leah smiled, “I’m glad it worked out for you guys in the end and you got that job to bring you back here. Fate is so quirky sometimes.”

“Babe,” Wonwoo shoved a spoonful of chocolate cake into his mouth. His words were garbled, “Please don’t make them sentimental – they’re kinda gross and sappy when they get into it.”

“Uncle Wonwoo, mommy says no talking with food in your mouth!” Nina exclaimed. 

He gave the little girl an apologetic look and swallowed . . . without chewing. 

Three pairs of eyes widened, the little one not thinking much of it. 

“Did you just–” Y/N started, but was too stunned to continue. 

“Are you okay?!” Leah exclaimed. She passed him her own glass of water. Wonwoo wiped the corner of his mouth and smiled sheepishly, first at her then you and Jeonghan. “Please don’t choke – we’re getting married in less than a month!”

“Mommy, mommy! Can I try?” Nina exclaimed. 

“No,” you deadpanned. Nina knew that voice, going back to play with her spoon instead. 

Jeonghan guffawed, “Holy shit, I can’t believe you’re marrying him!”

Woonwoo gave him a dark look, gesturing to his daughter. Anyone who knew Wonwoo knew he didn’t like cussing, let alone, around children. “Language,” he scolded. 

. . . .

[Bonus]

“Hey, I have a question for you,” you stated as you wiped the wet cup. Jeonghan had his nose stuck in the dishwasher, making sure all the items were arranged appropriately. 

“Hm?” He waited for you to continue. 

“We all know why I fell for you, but . . . what made you fall for me? At first, that is,” you asked. “I feel like I never got a clear grasp on that.”

Jeonghan grinned, standing up from his crouched position. He stepped towards you, planting a hand on your waist. “That’s easy.”

“Is it?” you raised your eyebrows, curiously. 

He hummed and nodded adamantly. “I thought you knew.”

“Well, you’re not the most forward about everything,” you noted. 

“You remember the perilla leaf debate?” 

“Yeah.”

“It was that,” he explained, “Dami had asked and your answer was that you’re the jealous type, so you’d peel it for everyone to avoid bad vibes and hurting your own feelings – and while saying that, you were actually peeling the perilla for everyone.”

Your jaw grew slack, swatting at him with the dish towel. “That’s it?” you exclaimed. 

“I mean, it was an added bonus that you were kind of cute,” Jeonghan joked. 

“You suck.”

“What? I love the self-awareness and honesty!”

[popironrye]

I reblogged this with my last Max post, but I just love this scene so much, I'm gonna make it a post all on it's own! :3

Watching this movie knowing everything that happens and knowing who Max is, is such a trip.

In this scene, Max got this goofy grin on his face when he sees Lucy being caring to a lost little boy. Almost like the grandpa vamp gets puppy crushes (which I totally believe by the way. I think all the vampires get first sight crushes, I mean did you see how David looked at Michael XD). Makes it all the more fitting when his own boys waltz right on in to bug him.

I love the look on David's face in this scene. The boys walk around the counter, pretty much a complete circle around Max, and what's he doing. Too busy focused on Lucy to let them bug him. XD

Then they come around to the front again, and what are they doing? Not looking ahead. All, especially David, are looking Max straight in the face. And the smiling Max immediately turns his attention on them to sorta scold them out of his store. And I can't believe I never noticed this until now. David actually looks at Lucy in this scene.

There's a pause, but he looks right at her. Then he looks back at Max and Max has this serious expression on his face (that honestly tells me despite Max's line this is the FIRST time he's telling them to scram) and he isn't the only one. I thought Dwayne was looking at Paul, but I think he also looks at Lucy, as does Paul and Marko. And when David looks at Lucy again, I swear he's trying not to laugh.

David sees Lucy getting Max's attention, and he almost laughs. XD

Their dad is trying to score, and wants them out of there and they know it. Not to mention Paul's knowing shoulder grab on Dwayne is even funnier knowing Max is after Lucy in this scene and his👌gesture is a sign of understanding to Max. XD And then Max sorta rolls his eyes at the boys antics.

The deleted scene where the boys circle Lucy on their bikes is another scene I love where the boys know Max just wants a date, and they jump in to mess with her. It's gold.

[choccy-milky]

hey! They already asked you but I don't know if you forgot hehe, what are the mbti of Clora and Sebastian? 😸

OK, I FINALLY HAVE AN ANSWER!! took me a hot minute to figure out sebs, but after reading all the pages and comparing, i do think entp fits him the best. also i saw this picture on pinterest about a relationship between isfj and entp and its so true, esp the "do not listen to each other's advice, still get each other out of trouble" LMFAO. also the 'protecting isfj at all costs' 🥺🥺🥺im soft. (ALSO DONT COME AT ME I KNOW I SPELLED KNOWLEDGEABLE WRONG IM TOO LAZY TO FIX IT😭) OKAY!! and its been a while so i'll be using this ask to reply to a buncha others🙏🙏

my fanfic does follow the plot of the game, but with sebastian added to every sidequest/story mission. and then from around the third (niamh's) trial, it starts to branch more into (mostly all) original stuff!^^

yes actually LMAO, clora's lawley-slap wasn't even planned. but as i was writing it i started to get so offended on her behalf i was like GIRL, SLAP THIS BITCH🤬 so she did😇😇 id say its normal, yeah! even tho i stick to my outlines, a lot of what happens just kinda happens without my prior planning as i begin to write bahaha, especially dialogue scenes.

aw, im glad u like my blog so much and that it can help u even in the smallest of ways 😭thank u!!💖💖

BAHAHA AWW TYY IM GLAD U LIKE IT SO MUCH!! i saw u re-reading it recently on wattpad and ur comments always have me dying. also im just gonna address your other ask here in this one, but as u know seb has now met mr.clemons, and you 10000% nailed the dynamic between seb and clora's dad LMFAOO, they will absolutely bond over disagreeing with how careless she is and wanting to protect her/stressing over her LOOL. ty again for all ur messages, i love seeing how much u love my art/fic😭💖

OMG u are so right i need to draw this

also god idk....following the sebinis example, i guess they'd be...sebora?? reminds me of sephora LMAO. ive also had someone call them "alliteration shipping" which i think is so cute BAHAHA. HONESTLY PPL CAN JUST SAY WHATEVER THEY WANT, i aint picky.

oh god its been too long since ive read the books (tho i do really wanna re-read them esp in the winter) but my fav movie is half blood prince, just because i love all the ron/hermione moments and the highschool drama BAHAHA. what do u mean harry potter isnt a romcom??? ok and last but DEFS not least

THE UNHINGED ENERGY OF THIS ASK CRACKED ME UP SO MUCH WHEN U SENT IT BAHAHAH, couldnt even fit the whole thing in my screenshot. IM GLAD U LIKED/HATED THE CHAP, and also your pfp just makes everything you say funnier, i love it LMAOOO. ty🙏🙏

[xuanhttps]

⠀♩⠀⠀‿‿⠀⠀❀⠀⠀⠀﹒⠀⠀⠀꒷꒦⠀⠀⠀Ꮺ ֶָ۪ ⠀⠀⠀﹐ i disappear sometimes, thats my thing.

› in which ;; you seem to just appear out of nowhere all the time.

› containing ;; gn!reader (you/yours), ace trappola, lilia vanrouge

› disclaimer ;; reader is referred to as yuu, proofread, lowercase is on purpose

from the other side of my reflection — ace trappola.

HE HATES IT. SO MUCH. ok so like.. at first when you meet ace he kind of brushes it off but deeper into the adeuceyuu friendship he starts to notice the pattern of you somehow appearing behind him out of nowhere all the time, and GOD it scares him. he's probably let out the most girly high-pitched screams of his life because of you jumpscaring him. he also jokes about putting a bell around your neck so he stops being scared. if he does it, you somehow manage to silence the bell to. by the seven PLEASEEE just announce yourself when you enter a room or he might have a heart attack.

"AAH-- oh. its you. hey, pre, you sure you aren't doing this on purpose? stop scaring me!"

could we freeze time, just this once? — lilia vanrouge

lilia, being the silly ass old man we all love, adores your little habit and even offers for you too scare people together! regardless if your intentions are scaring people or not, you accept because honestly who can deny someone like lilia. nowadays you spend alot of time in diasomnia, much to sebek's dismay however. hes just a hater tho you and lilia definitely get a kick out of popping out of nowhere behind him. oftentimes lilia will pick you up and take you around nrc, just upside down. definitely makes jumpscaring the first years even funnier. they cannot escape this absolute power duo.

grim whines about how 'the creaky old fae is stealing his henchhuman!!" which in response, lilia only laughs it off and teases the annoying little cat creature about how clingy he is for you. grim wants to shoot fireballs at lilia. you have to stop them from blowing up nrc or ramshackle atleast twice a week at this point.

"oh, yuu~! come along, now. i hear a group of first years in the mood for a little fright." (they are not in the mood for a fright and adeuce most definitely punched the two of you accidentally)

[bruciemilf]

AU WHERE CLARK IS A GRUMP!!! JUST A RAINY CLOUD OF A MAN!!! I want older, exhausted, i- may- feed -on- sun- but- I -ain't- no sunshine- Clark Kent.

I think being constantly alienated and casted out and honestly, despised for being an alien yet saving the human race every Wendsay is bound to make the best of us a little hostile, -

do NOT get me wrong Clark loves his Ma and Pa, but he's mostly here because Diana keeps bullying him into it, and bc his parents happen to be apart of said species that thins his patience everyday.

LIKE-

This man is giving " Absolutely would yell at Parry White for trapping him in interviews with Lex Luthor even if he KNOWS Clark hates his guts" vibes. Living for it.

" TELL THAT FUCKING MORON THAT UNLESS HE PLANS TO SAVE 300 POLAR BEARS FROM MASS HOMELESSNESS, HE CAN SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT CLIMATE CHANGE!"

Bruce, literally shaking in his chair at the Daily Planet after Alfred grounded him with social interaction for patrolling late: hn

Clark is staring. Bruce can SWEAR there's a spot of red glowing in those ocean eyes before this titan of a man directs his attention to a tight-grinning Lois Lane, " What the fuck is HE doing here?"

" You were supposed to interview him today, remember?"

" It's honestly fine I can leave if he's busy"

" I'm not busy, Morticia Addams, I just don't wanna be around ANOTHER rich prick for hours- fuck it. Come on. I NEED to know how you knew Lex was swapping spit with those crooks from that laboratory. "

'' well some of us don't need to yell to get our point across"

" What?"

" Nothing"

Bruce of course follows Clark close and despite Clark expressing crystal clear " eat the rich and shit them out" energy, they still have a " excuse me, he asked for EXTRA blueberry" moment

ALSO GRUMPY TEAM DAD!! " Alright, which one of you failed condoms arranged this press conference? Was it you, Hal? I WILL make you hold that lantern while I fix the coffee maker again."

Arguing with Batman would be so much funnier. " You're a superpowered alien with unmatchable strength and anger management issues, of COURSE I have the right to worry!"

" Oh you fucking say that as if humanity hasn't been its own monster since, oh I don't know, - FOREVER? Maybe check your facts before you come at me, Bruce."

And Bruce is of course SHOCKED. " How-"

" I used my X-ray vision."

" You betrayed my trust!"

" Of course I did, we're not FOUR."

[taiyeoki]

PRETTY LITTLE PUSSY | Kashimo Hajime

↳ Kashimo + Reader

Genre : Smut

W/C : 4.8K

Warnings : 🔞Minors do not interact | Contains fingering, edging, squirting, breast play, slight electrocution (come on it's Kashimo🧍🏻‍♀️), pussy drunk Kashimo, dirty talk, praising, a bit of fluff.

Synopsis : Hakari invites you and Kashimo to hangout but Kashimo had been dying to get home. Little did you know he had other plans instead of just relaxing with you. When you wanted to have fun in the café, he wanted to have fun as well, just not in the way you had expected.

A/N : I was bored. Man I can't seem to find Tumblr's HTML part, I wanna make stuff with different colours 💀 Reader is a fem btw.

Hakari knew Kashimo was an ancient man who came from the 1600 so he had to drag him out to town. Kashimo had a hard time understanding the modern world after all, so Hakari would be his "saviour" who would teach him everything he should know. Hence, Kashimo had been invited to hangout at a bubble tea café because he said that it was "trendy" and lots of people had been buying from that café recently.

It was funnier how he would honestly lecture everyone in this modern era, repeating "sorcerers these days..." or "back in my day..." Like an old man that he is despite being in his prime. Plus he couldn't understand much of what Hakari and Kirara spoke of;

"What are you slaying?"

"What is a 'Pikachu vibe' and why do they keep calling me that? Is it a bad thing?"

"Period? Y/n are you on your period? Should I get a heating pad for you?"

Which is why you were here now because number one, you knew Kashimo would disappear the moment he even thinks about leaving Hakari's side and number two, you had been invited anyway. You were currently standing in line to buy your drinks while Kashimo and Hakari sat at a nearby booth next to the window to keep a spot for you guys to hangout at, the sunlight shining down on them. The sunbeam hits Kashimo's face as it gave him a glowing look, caressing his skin and giving life to his warm eyes. His cyan orbs were complimented with the pinkish hue of lightning patterns under his eyes. Kashimo's eyebrows were furrowed as usual and his eyelashes looked naturally curled. He had a calm yet fierce expression which honestly turned you on as a slight aching between your legs appeared.

Kashimo had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows the way he knows you like it. You could see how veiny and muscular his arms were when he didn't have his bandages wrapped around his forearm. You tried shaking off any thoughts that were creeping into your head though as a pool began forming in your pants. Meanwhile the two of them had privacy to themselves as they waited for you to return with their drinks.

"Well?" Hakari initiates as Kashimo responds with a hum to let him continue his question. Instead, Hakari stared at him with a cheeky smile as he had his left hand held an 'O' shape while his right hand had his fingers moving in an out of that 'O' in a fucking motion. "Y/n?"

"... Is that a domain expansion?" Kashimo asked, confused on what Hakari was doing with his hands.

"PFFT A DOMAIN EXPANSION?" Hakari laughed out loud, cackling so much that it caught everyone's attention and yours. You turned back to see what the two were talking about although you couldn't hear what they said other than Hakari's laughter. It made you happy to say the least as you saw your boyfriend chatting with someone since he was never the type to be a social butterfly. Although you don't think that he cracked a joke since Kashimo looked even more confused than you did. The poor man couldn't understand the action Hakari did. After all they never had such an openly explicit movement back in the Edo period.

It looked like Hakari was dying from laughter as he held his abdomen, wheezing as he spoke, "what kind of sex domain is that?" After a while though his cackling died down and you finally return with all your bubble tea. Hakari looked like he lost all the oxygen in his body.

"What happened?" You tried to inquire, wanting to know what they were laughing about but Hakari just chuckles as he was reminded of what did happened. Shrugging it off as he replied, "don't worry about it. It looks like I broke him though," Hakari said as he points to Kashimo. As you looked over to him, Kashimo had his forehead planted against the edge of the table, face hidden and his body still. You decided to brush it off since the cyan haired man looked like he didn't want to say anything else.

Unbeknownst to Hakari though you and Kashimo had already have a fair share of lovemaking together. He just never expected that a 400 year old man was still capable of fucking since he always looked too busy wanting to fight Sukuna anyway.

Throughout your time with the two you noticed Kashimo being silent. You knew he wasn't too talkative especially with anyone other than you but this time he was oddly quiet. When you looked over to him he looked a bit bothered. Is he sick?

"Jime? You alright?" You checked up on him wanting to make sure he's fine. His face was a bit flushed and he looked like he was trying to stabilize his breathing but little did you know his head was full of erotic thoughts of fucking you till your legs won't work.

Soon enough you all decided to part ways and Kashimo was especially persistent on it. You didn't understand why but he looked... Upset?

By the time you entered your welcoming home you both shared, he almost seemed to rush in, passing you as he accidentally bumps into you. Kashimo exhaled, making an exhausted sigh which sounded as if he's been holding his breath in and it made you worried. You were too concerned for him to even notice the growing tent in his pants.

"Hajime? You alri—" Kashimo's lips crashes into yours before you can even finish the sentence. Fingers firmly holding your jaw as his tongue invades your mouth, the kiss forceful and demanding. His other hand grips your waist tightly, pulling you closer to him. He was such a good kisser, always so passionate and he knows exactly how to tease you to keep you on edge. You're completely caught off guard, hands holding his wrists, whining as he cages you on your back against the wall between his strong arms.

You manage to let go, gasping, "Hajime! What are you—"

"Fuck. Been needing you all day long," his hand travels up your back, gripping the fabric of your shirt softly yet urgently.

"Do you know how long my cock's been aching huh? God knows I wanted to just bend you over back at the café and eat you out right then and there," he groans, kisses trailing from your neck to your collarbone as he takes in your sweet scent. He knows how much weaker you are compared to him— soft, delicate, and sensitive to touch. His touch was a perfect mix of gentle and rough, the man knew how to work with your body and have you screaming and begging for him.

"Need you so much," he mumbles against your skin. He swiftly shoves your pants down, revealing your cute panties that you were wearing and he drags his fingers through your folds, tracing against the wet patch that had already formed.

"Hajime," you mutter out to your boyfriend breathless, desperate for any touch at all as you instinctively spread your legs open with the help of Kashimo's knee pushing you further apart and whine, trying to hold his broad shoulders for support.

He traces soft kisses down, following from your neck to your collarbone then to your chest and further below to your waist. Soon enough he's settled between your legs and you feel his hot breath against your panties.

"Trained this pussy so well," he hums, pulling off your panties and revealing the wet mess behind the fabric. "You're already so wet just from my kisses," he smiles knowing you're just as touch starved as he was.

Blushing, your jaw clenched, trying to hold your composure but only to yelp when you felt his face sink in your wet pussy. Kashimo takes in your erotic scent, diving between your legs. Fuck— he's too good. Kashimo drags his tongue from your clit up towards your aching sex. He licks you tenderly, exploring your folds with his tongue, "you taste so good."

He groans against your skin as he speeds up his ministrations, tongue working in you with rhythm as he tastes all your love juice, prodding inside your pussy and feeling the spongy insides. You feel his lips wrap around your clit as he starts sucking almost desperately. In fact you feel as though he was enjoying this more than you were. His nose nudges against your skin, face smothered in your wet pussy as he eats you out.

You were practically shaking now, his hands gripped your thighs to keep you spread apart as you buck your hips and whine, needing to cum yet he doesn't give enough pleasure just to keep edging you. You can feel him smirk, his hungry gaze took in the sight of you squirming with need as you moaned desperately with tears pricking the corner of your eyes. Unfortunately for you the moment you felt the familiar knot form in your abdomen, Kashimo pulls away before you can even release, leaving you whining.

Stiffled moans left Kashimo, his cock pulsing in his pants as it only grew. He groans from seeing how fucked out you are, your face was flushed and you had tears dripping down, saliva wetting the edges of your lips as you pant. The sight made his dick want to explode.

"Hm? You're gonna have to tell me what you want. Whining isn't gonna help," Kashimo smirks, his expression looks smug seeing you writhe as he takes full control of your orgasm.

"You're so close," Hajime teases, knowing full well that he could end this torment at any moment. "Tell me, y/n. Do you like being on the edge like this?"

"Fuck- Hajime please, don't stop," you pleaded desperately, face flushed but you couldn't care about anything else right now. Kashimo's smile tugs at his lips as it grew with smugged pride. He knew only he could get you to beg for him like you are now.

Kashimo doesn't hesitate doing what you wanted, taking a whiff of your soaked pussy and once more the man is being pussy drunk. This time though he isn't as gentle as he was which caught you in surprise and yelp. Kashimo was aggressively sucking on everything he could as if it was going to be his last meal, lapping up anything at all and leaving no drops of your slick pussy juice. It drove you wilder as his hand slides between your legs, finding your entrance. He teases you for a moment before slipping one finger inside, slowly stretching you open for him, moaning at the feel of his large hand

"That's it," he murmurs, his finger moving in and out of you, easily finding your G-spot. His other hand slips underneath him to rub against his own hard length. "Tell me how it feels."

"Ah fuck— Hajime- it feels s'good!" You cry out with a stutter in between moans. With Kashimo's quickening pace, his finger thrusts into you mercilessly, getting greedier than he already was. You could feel his long finger slide in and out of you as his large hand palms at your clit while he eats you out, spreading sweet kisses over your pussy. He was falling harder for you by the second if it's even possible anymore considering how much he showers you with affection. A couple if seconds later you start falling apart, gasping and moaning as you tried to push his head away.

Kashimo only groans at you when you tried to remove him from your overstimulated pussy in vain. "Too much," you gasp. "Can't take it- Hajime!" You stutter in between moans and gasps, crying out as he has your brain turning into mush with just a single digit and his tongue. Watching you pull at your lip with your teeth has his cock drooling more than it was and he knew you were about to cum. Kashimo easily slips another finger in, and you feel his thick finger prod in your spongy walls. Both fingers immediately abusing that one spot in you which has your eyes rolling back to your head and crying out loud moans. The moment your pussy tighten more than it already was, he knew you were about to reach your high with the bubbling feeling once more.

"Don't you fucking dare cum," Kashimo however demands which has you desperately whining for sweet relief. He keeps his eye contact with you, watching how vulnerable you are right now and you feel so exposed as he takes in your form, drooling, moaning, gasping, writhing, anything at all. Kashimo's still palming himself, his red tip just begging to be relieved as well but he's holding back so he could cum with you too. "Please Hajime," you weakly cry out. It's as if you've lost all your energy already but to your luck, Kashimo grunts and finally allows you to release.

"Alright, since you've been such a good girl. My cute little slut deserves to cum doesn't she? Fucking do it then. Cum on my face," he groans, voice laced with lust. Finally he gives one hard thrust which has you sent over the edge, immediately cumming all over his fingers and tongue as he drinks it up. It intensifies when Kashimo sends a spark of electricity adding to the sensation, your sensitive pussy squirting all over his face which has him releasing his own load, making a gutteral moan.

"Fuck- Hajime!" Crying out loud moans, you've never felt this good before after being edged so much. The moment you finally stop squirting, your body falls limp and he pulls away as you pant heavily. His face is covered with your sweet juices and the floor splattered with his own seed.

Kashimo drags his tongue over his teeth, cleaning himself up and showing off those fangs as drops of pussy juice fell on his tongue to lap up. He brings the back of his veiny hand up to wipe his face off, "what a fucking whore. You made a mess."

Kashimo stands up and towers over your frail form, watching the art he made out of you as you held onto him for support, panting still. He delivers a harsh smack to your pussy, causing a wet slap to be heard as he chuckles darkly when you yelp. "You're so damn wet. C'mere," Kashimo easily picks you up, laying you over his broad shoulder with your ass next to his face and he takes a rough slap on your plush skin. "Hajime, you're the reason I'm wet!" Blushing, you try and retort his words to which he only chuckles at. It's as if he was carrying a feather, almost like you were just a pillow to him when he brings you along with him into your shared room. He doesn't struggle at all, entering both your room and gently kicking the door close behind him, flopping you down on the soft bed with a bit of bounce.

With the cyan haired man towering over you, he's eyeing you as if a hungry predator full of lust and it already has you aching once more, wet dripping slowly down your folds. He doesn't break eye contact with you when he reaches over to grab his nyoi staff at the corner of the bed, his seductive smirk revealing the sharp fangs as if he was ready to shove his teeth into you. Kashimo brings his muscular arm under your knees, bringing your legs up to expose your core and you feel like burning up from being flushed and from your own body reacting to him. The spherical tip of his staff presses against your wet folds has you gasping, looking down to see him tempting you as he rubs your own juices around your pussy. Your wet slick spreads onto his staff, lubricating it. "What do ya want? You're not speaking but your body is telling me everything I need to know. What's wrong? Don't tell me you're shy now? A moment ago you were moaning and crying like a slut."

"Fuck— Hajime please.." you pleaded, you can't take this aching anymore. Your walls are throbbing painfully and it's killing you. You needed to have him, to have everything he gives you but Kashimo only teases you with the nyoi staff and presses it harder against your pussy but it doesn't go in. He rubs the tip of it up and down from your pussy to your ass, the lubricated stick playing with your asshole and it made you feel dirty. "Hm? What's that? I can't hear you. Speak up." You knew he heard you. He just wanted to enjoy this moment and his smirk showed how entertained he was. A light spark of lightning flashed between his buns and he led a gentle course of it run through his nyoi staff against your aching pussy which has your hips bucking in surprise, a harsh moan caught in your throat.

"Ah— Fuck, need you. I need you please. Please just fuck me with your big cock. Can't take it anymore!" You begged for him to stop teasing and the more you pleaded the more satisfied he got, his predatory smile only grew. He took the staff away from your pussy which has you whining. He takes the spherical tip of it to his face, keeping eye contact with you as he licked the tip of it, tasting your pussy on it. His cyan orbs kept a sharp gaze on you, lustful as he savours your taste.

Kashimo satisfied himself with your taste on his nyoi staff. His dick couldn't wait either and he places it back down on the bed, crawling over your small form compared to him. His muscular arms caged you within, toned chest and chiseled abs hovering over you. The sight of body already already had you drooling, blushing at his divine looks. His soft hair fell to his sides and down above you and you got to see his features up close. He looked incredible with his fierce expression, sharp jawline and it all shows off how much power the man has, emanating dominance but to Kashimo he was the one who got lucky enough to have you all for himself. His heart fluttered at the sight in front of him, taking in your beauty, soft lips, glowing skin, bright eyes. Sometimes you wonder how a man like him fell in love with you but he genuinely did find you as the most beautiful woman he's ever seen in these 400 years. To him you were perfect. Your body was perfect and he wouldn't want you to change anything about yourself at all. He loves you the way you are now.

The aching pain at Kashimo's dick snapped him out of the trance you had on him. "You're already so warm and ready for me," he murmurs, leaning in to place a tender kiss on your lips. His hand continues to explore your body, tracing gentle patterns on your abdomen, fingers dancing over youe body. He trails his fingertips down to your inner thighs, brushing lightly against your sensitive folds. He lines up his dick against your entrance, tempted to just dive right in but he keeps his impatience at bay.

"You ready?"

"Mhm," you hum, prepared for him for fuck you senseless. "Perfect," he whispers, leaning down to kiss your stomach.

The moment you replied, he immediately entered your heat but he takes his time savouring it. The painfully slow pace causing a gutteral moan from him as he groans, finally feeling your pussy wrap around his length. Your own moan got cut off by him leaning in to kiss you, sharing your passion with one another. Kashimo pulls out of you and dives back in roughly, causing his dick to attack your G-spot with precision and you moan out loudly. He starts thrusting more, increasing the speed of it as Kashimo couldn't withstand being patient anymore.

"You're such a needy little slut," Hajime whispers against your lips between passionate kisses, groaning from time to time as he tries speaking with occasional moans which only turned you on. His dick continued to work inside of you, pounding into your tight pussy with greed.

Kashimo smirks against your lips before continuing to kiss you deeply. He moves his hips gently, grinding against you creating an intensified sensation as the tip of his dick constantly hits your spot. "You're just a dirty little whore for me."

Hajime presses his lips to yours, his tongue dancing against yours as he continues to thrust inside of your spongy walls. Whimpering and moaning, Kashimo already has you getting fucked out that you can't even form proper sentences to say. "You're such a filthy little slut," Hajime groans, his cock finding the perfect rhythm inside of you. "I bet you beg for more every time."

Kashimo doesn't neglect your breasts, noticing the hardening mounds, his large hand wraps around your soft chest and starts to knead. Your moans were muffled into the kiss, nipples being tugged and played with. Kashimo brings the kiss down from your jawline to your collarbone and soon reaching your sensitive breasts, feeling his hot breath fan against you.

At this rate your body couldn't take any more, the man was too good. He fills your head with sultry whispers as he fucks you dumb.

"So damn cock hungry and I've only started," "you like me pounding into your guts don't you?" "That's my good little slut."

You were getting fucked senseless especially with occasional sparks of lightning that seeps out from him being unable to hold back. Kashimo intensifies the pleasure though, even catching you in surprise as you didn't think it was even possible to be fucked any better. His muscular arms easily work with your body, snaking under your fragile legs to swiftly put you in a mating press. He had a look of greed and lust as he almost desperately pound into you.

The position you were in now allowed his dick to hit places even you can't reach. You gasp at the feeling of his tip expertly hitting your womb, eyes widening as your moans only grew. The way you were now has you trapped between him and Kashimo had full control over the situation. You were simply under his mercy and his predatory smile only grew. The only thought in his mind now was to just fuck you.

"Fuck," Kashimo growls against your ear, his length working faster inside of you. His hand grips your hips tightly as he continues to bring you pleasure. "You're fucking incredible."

Sweat drips down from him onto you. "Fuck, you feel so good y/n," he groans, his eyes locked onto yours as his thrusts start to get sloppy. His hips slam into you roughly now. He releases one hand to grip your neck, the other now clenching the sheets beneath him. "You're so damn perfect."

"Shit- Hajime I can't—" you were beginning to reach your climax, unable to hold back any longer. Your whimpers turned into cries and he only made it harder for you to hold back with how he had you in a gentle choke, his grip on your neck sends a light course of electricity running through your body. Your eyes rolled back a bit more as your body turns out limp in pleasure just for him to use.

"Fu- hah shit- you wanna cum? You wanna c-cum huh?" Kashimo breathes, the words more of a moan than anything else. He's close now, feeling you wrap around him, milking his cock as he fucks you faster and harder. You could only nod vigorously, overstimulated by all this and moaning desperately for sweet relief. "Let's- ah fuck. Let's cum together."

Kashimo's just as impatient as you are now, both of you needing to reach your climax. "Y/n—" Kashimo groans, feeling his climax building once more within him. "I love you so much." With one last powerful thrust, he releases his hot seed deep inside you, tip entering your womb as he fills you up and his face is dusted with a reddish blush. Your mixed fluids coating your insides. He gives your ass a rough smack and with his spanking came more electrifying sensation sending you over the edge.

He leans in close to your neck, biting your supple skin and his teeth digging into you, leaving bite marks. You could feel his veiny cock twitching and throbbing inside of you, pussy clenching around him. Kashimo fits perfectly into you as if you were made for him.

"Hajime!--" Crying out his name loudly, you scream in pleasure and the room is filled with both your moans and grunts, whimpers and cries. You're drooling with tears pricking your eyes, blushing and taking in the erotic sight of milking him dry.

Kashimo then moves to kiss you, lips locking and intertwining as his groans are muffled and so are your cries.

Your back arches, practically screaming moans now as you squirt once more, both your release mixing as your walls tighten around to keep him inside. He groans at the feel, riding out his orgasm. Coating his cock with love juice, you're gripping the sheets beneath you and finally Kashimo's thrusts slow down into a halt and he pulls away from the kiss, looking down at the mess below him, taking in the sight of your beauty.

Both of you are panting heavily, unable to say anything yet from how much stimulation you went through.

His abs were splattered with your squirt due to the mating press, balls deep in you and his hard cock painted with both your cum. You both stayed there until he finally speaks up.

"Fuck, y/n," Kashimo murmurs as he pulls out of your pussy, his lips and tongue trailing over your jaw in sync. "You make me so fucking happy."

He chuckles when you can only whimper as a response, "was I too rough? Sorry. Couldn't help myself, after all your fucking perfect." He leans down closer to you, hot breath fanning your ear when he mutters, "love you so much baby..."

"Love you too..." You croak out, tired from earlier.

Kashimo nibbles at your earlobe, his warm lips against your colder skin then he showers you with sweet kisses. Making sure to give attention to your lips, cheeks, forehead, neck, anything at all, he lays soft kisses on them.

Kashimo plops himself down beside you, chest heaving from panting and he wraps his strong arms around your small frame. He hums and nuzzles against the crook of your neck, resting there for a moment and it makes you giggle from seeing this soft sight. Kashimo had always been a brute fighter so it made you feel special whenever he only shows this sweet side of him to you.

"Jime..." You call out to him, your angelic voice like music to his ears. He'd always melt to your touch, your voice, your love.

"Hm?"

"That was amazing."

Kashimo chuckles more, his smile was so captivating to you. He looked so soft and gentle when he smiles, so sweet and it makes you forget that this man was the strongest in the Edo period who goes around causing mass murders to challengers who provoke him.

"Love you so much y/n. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

You bring your small hand up to cup his cheek, pulling him closer into a comforting kiss and he reciprocates, returning the love as you felt his smile grow. You stay there for a moment until soon enough both of you ran out I'd breath, panting when you pull away.

Kashimo wanted more kisses but he didn't want to tire you out too much. He hums, "do you wanna drink anything?"

"Water is fine."

"Alright," he sits up and gets off the bed, leaving you alone for a moment but you can still feel his warmth in his side of the bed. He made sure to cover you with the blanket first and you cuddled into it, nuzzling his pillow and taking in his comforting scent.

Kashimo returns with a glass of water, his other hand held warm cloth for you to clean yourself up with.

You attempt to stand, seeing him invite you to join him and clean yourselves up but as you laid your foot on the ground, you wobbled a bit. Kashimo instantly catches you before you could fall though. "Are you alright? Do you need me to carry you?"

You laugh a bit, "yeah. You did this after all."

"Pfft, alright," he sets the glass down on the nightstand and easily carries you up in his muscular arms. He gives you a peck, being held in a bridal style, allowing you to take in the view of his chiseled chest, sharp jawline, soft cyan hair. The golden light shining in through the window also reflected his good looks.

Your hand goes up to gently brush over the lightning patterns at his bottom eyelids and he closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. You stayed there for a few seconds and it was the most comforting silence you've ever felt. Kashimo's eyes open, showing off his bright cyan orbs, smiling down at you.

"Come on. Let's take a shower."

[princessbrunette]

the thought of JJ smacking your ass after throwing you over his shoulder😵‍💫 shit makes me dizzy

speaking of which this man would randomly throw you over his shoulder and just walk away with you in the middle of a conversation just to tick you off (knowing my horny ass I’d probably like it teehee)

it’s funnier if it’s a conversation with another person plsss I can just imagine it

ohhhhhhhh but this with rafe x kook!reader x jj at a party? rafes blood would be boiling 😭😭😭

rafe would storm over to him as soon as you’re out of sight, spinning the blonde round by the shoulders. “you know it’s really rude to interrupt people’s conversation but i uh— i suppose a pogue wouldn’t know anything about social etiquette now would you?”

jj simply pats his chest, even having the nerve to fix his jacket with a simple smile. “honestly bro i’n’t even see you standin’ there. had my eye on the prize, you know?” he winks knowingly as he backs off, rafes jaw ticking as he stands — watching him back off. “but uh, she didn’t seem too mad about it. some friendly guy to guy advice… maybe you should up your game. just tryna help you, brother.” he holds his hands up in faux defence before disappearing back into the crowd to find you.

[ickaimp]

[BotW] Excuse Me While I Kiss this Guy (discontinued)

My SidLink fic, ‘Excuse Me While I Kiss this Guy’, has been getting a lot of attention on Ao3. It’s two parts, and I tried to write a part three from Link’s POV. That was back in 2018, and I’ve since moved five times. Needless to say, it never got past the WiP stage and the HTTYD fic, ‘Coming Down is the Hardest Thing‘ ate our brain instead. But in honour of Tears of the Kingdom, figured I’d put everything in roughly a chronological shape and post what got written. It’s not complete, prolly never will be, but hopefully it’ll give a couple chuckles. 2900 words. There is also now a bonus scene at the end of Excuse Me While I Kiss this Guy on Ao3.

+++ He didn’t mean to return to the Zora Domain.

Death Mountain lived up to its name, Vah Rudania had been freed from Ganon’s touch, and all Link wanted to do was go somewhere cooler where he could relax and recoup from climbing over a moving metal structure that was standing over gigantic pools of lava. So his duty done to the Gorons, he’d pulled out the Sheikah slate and hit the first shrine that looked near water.  Finding himself facing a handful of angry armed Zora guards had been a bit of a shock, but he’d honestly been too tired to care. Getting the helmet off and breathing the cool humid air of the Zora domain helped, more so when Sidon arrived. The shock on the prince’s face was comical. Even more so when he told his guards to stand down and offered Link a bath. +++ The kiss to the top of his head was unexpected, and made his chest feel light and fluffy. The gesture was as unexpected as it was confusing, but not in a bad way. Sidon’s explanation, his offer of kisses, just made it funnier. +++ Kisses. Link reminded himself as he struggled and fought his way through the shrine. Sidon believed in him, and when Link finished, he could see Sidon again. And get another kiss. +++ He didn’t know how to pay back Sidon for the encouragement. For the kisses. And he wanted to. He wanted to show Sidon how much it meant to Link. How much Sidon himself meant to Link. Armour was important to Zora. Milpha had made him armour. He was pretty sure there were books in the library that explained how to make armour. And armour would keep Sidon safe when Link wasn’t around. He could do that. He had gems and supplies from his travels all over Hyrule. He could make armour. +++ He couldn’t make armour. He could, but not armour for Sidon, who was much larger than Link, or the average anyone. The armour came out the same every time he tried, just the right size for him to fit in to. This was a problem. +++ “You’re making something entirely new.” Rhondson said, shaking her head over Link’s confusion. “You and your magic have seen jewellery and many kinds of armour and know what shapes to make things it has seen before. But to make something new, you’re going to have to do it the hard way.” Link looked down at his hands. Well, it wasn’t as if he didn’t have the time to learn something new. 

+++ Zora made their armour from scales, but Link didn’t have scales. Which meant that he needed to get scales somehow. What had scales? Fish, of course. Zora, but he couldn’t ask them for scales, not for this. Dragons. He had a small collection of their scales and horns. Not enough for armour. Which meant that he’d have to get more. 

“I’m gonna go fight a dragon.” Link declared, anticipation singing through his body. 

“Link? Is everything okay?” Zelda looked worried as she peered into his face. “You’ve kind of got your crazy eyes on.”

He just grinned at her. 

“Okay then.” Zelda sighed and shook her head. He knew that he worried her, that before the Calamity he’d been raised to be a knight, with all the genteel manners and stuff, but he didn’t remember any of that. 

And really, it sounded completely boring and dull. He liked who he was now, he couldn’t go back to whatever he’d been before. Zelda had accepted that, but she still fussed at him. It was kind of... nice, in a strange way. 

She kissed him on the cheek. “Go do your thing. Try not to come back all bloody.” 

He appreciated the fact that she never referred to the castle as his home. It was hers, certainly. And while he didn’t mind staying here, it didn’t feel like home to him. 

His heart called him elsewhere. 

‘No promises.’ He agreed, kissing her cheek as well. Her kisses weren’t like Sidon’s. Still sweet, in a different way. Softer, for one thing. And not as varied, she liked to kiss and be kissed mostly on the cheek.

He liked Sidon’s kisses better. The feeling of rough scales on skin was more welcoming to him than that of soft Hylian skin. Kissing Zelda didn’t leave his heart fluttering and skin tingling and wanting more. +++ The dragon scales were too large and unwieldy to just make into armour. Especially for someone who was as streamlined as Sidon. Cutting them down with normal tools didn’t work, they shattered swords and shears alike. The only thing that seemed to be able to cut dragon scale was dragon scale itself. Link growled to himself, realising that this meant he needed to get more scales, some for the armour, some to use as tools. Which meant more time away from Sidon. He sighed. He could do it. +++ ‘Think it’ll work?’ Link signed, as Bazz looked contemplative, looking over the scales Link had harvested and started to cut into shapes based off the books and patterns he’d found. 

“It should.” He agreed. “My biggest concern is what are you going to attach it to? You’re going for shock resistance, so metal is out, which means some sort of really heavy duty hide or cloth. If you use leather, you could boil it, making it harder and shape it, but I don’t know what would be thick enough.”

That was a problem. Monster hide might work, but he’d killed most of those. 

And he wanted something for the shock resistance too. It was kind of worrisome that Zora couldn’t even touch shock arrows, leading Link having to collect them from the Lynel....

Link paused, looking up towards the tip of Shatterback Point. ‘Be right back.’ He signed, and took off running. 

“Wait! No!” Bazz hissed. “Link! He’ll kill me if you come back dead!” 

Link laughed as he jumped off a balcony, his hang-glider snapping open and catching the ocean breeze. The breeze wasn’t strong enough to get him all the way to the top, but it’d get him part way there. 

+++

A few hours later, Link pulled the fresh Lynel hide out of his pack and set it in front of Bazz. ‘Think it’ll work?’

Bazz made a sound like he couldn’t decide if he was laughing or crying. “You’re certifiably nuts.” He said, shaking his head. “The two of you deserve each other. Yeah, I think that’ll work.” 

Link tilted his head to the side, wondering what Bazz meant by that. 

“We’ll have to sit down sometime with a pint or two and I’ll tell you some of the things our Prince has gotten up to in the past.” Bazz grinned, his sharp teeth glinting. “You heard about him being eaten by the Octorok and going up against Vah Ruta on his own? That’s nothing.” 

Link grinned. He knew he liked Sidon for a reason. +++

“Link, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your new habit of carving dragon scales during meetings.” Zelda’s lips pressed together in a disapproving line. “It’s scaring some of the Council.”

Link grimaced. It was about the only time that he sat still long enough to get any carving done, he was constantly interrupted otherwise. ‘You want me to stop?’ He offered. He’d just have to figure something else out. 

“Oh good heavens, no!” She beamed at him. “Could you please sit next to Councillor Tyrol? We might be able to get some work done if he stops sharing his ‘hunting’ stories. He’s quite terrified of you, you know.”

+++ Zelda glanced around before tugging on Link’s arm and pulling him closer. She had a mischievous curve to her lips and he leaned in so no one else could overhear what she was saying. “Some of the Council thinks you’re dating a Gerudo woman.” She whispered, then covered her mouth with a hand to contain her laughter. 

It made a certain amount of sense, he was in Gerudo town a lot. … He also wore the clothing a lot while coming back. Did they think that he was dating himself? Or someone else? He paused, eyes narrowing as he remembered the inquires to the Gerudo Chieftain's health. “Riju’s twelve.” He deadpanned. She may have been the steadfast leader of the fierce Gerudo, but she was also a kid who loved soft plushies, especially those of Sand Seals. 

Zelda nodded with barely repressed glee. “I know that and you know that, but how many people here do you think have meet a real Gerudo in their lives? Much less know who the Gerudo chief is?” 

That was a good point. They should probably fix that, get more of all the various tribes together more often. ‘Should I start mentioning Isha more?’ He offered. 

She thought about it, then giggled. “You should invite her to the castle as a merchant.” Zelda grinned. “Plus, I’d like to meet her.”

+++ ‘You need a break.’ Link signed with a frown as he looked Zelda over. She looked kind of like she wanted to punch something then take a nap. “I can’t.” Zelda closed her eyes, looking frustrated. “There’s no where in the castle I can go that someone won’t find me with some sort of emergency. I feel like all I’m doing is putting out fires.” 

Link pulled out a bomb and offered it to her. She stared at it for a moment, which he was starting to think was the default reaction to being offered a bomb. Although it wasn’t like he offered them to just anyone, but Sidon always looked so surprised and confused by the bombs. 

Zelda looked like she was contemplating using it. 

“No.” She shook her head, pushing the bomb away. “Thank you, but no. That’d just undo all the hard work we just finished constructing.” Which was a pretty good point. With a shrug, he put it away again. A thought hit, and he looked her up and down, silently measuring her with his eyes, a smirk growing.

“Link.” Zelda crossed her arms, turning her body away, looking uncomfortable ‘We’re almost the same height and size.’ Link grinned at her. He was a little broader in the shoulder, she a bit broader in the hip, but still about the same proportions. Well, given his lack of height.

“And?” Link bounced a little on the balls of his feet, feeling pleased with himself. ‘That means you should fit my clothes.’ He explained. ‘And I should fit yours.’ She stared at him for a moment, her mouth agape. “There’s no way it’d work. I mean, you don’t talk, that’s easy for me to mimic, but the ruse would be over as soon as you opened your mouth.” 

That was easy enough too. He held up a finger, silently motioning for patience, then rubbed his nose vigorously, until it was red, then coughed a couple of times. “I’m sick.” He rasped, trying to pitch his voice slightly higher. “I need to stay in bed.” 

Then he fluttered his eyelashes at her and grinned. 

Zelda gaped at him. “No.” She said, then immediately wavered. “I mean. No. It couldn’t possibly work.” He shrugged. ‘I need to finish carving some scales, I could do that while you go on a ride, get some fresh air. Wear the champion tunic, everything'll run as soon as they see you coming.’

Link could see her visibly waver. “Oh.” She glared at him, stamping her foot in irritation. “This is a horrible idea. Give me your tunic.” Link grinned and tapped the Sheikah Slate, switching clothing until he was wearing the Champion’s Tunic, pulling it off over his head and tossed it to her. Zelda wrinkled her nose, holding it away from her face.  “When was the last time you washed this?” He gave her a puzzled look back. He never washed any of his clothes, any rips, tears, burns, or other assorted damage were gone whenever he dismissed them and put them back on. “Nevermind.” She shook her head, pulling the tunic on. It was a little big on her in the shoulders, but nothing too obvious. He pulled off his pants and handed them to her as well, before wandering over to her wardrobe and sorting through it before finding a long nightgown, pulling that over his head. This method of getting dressed was such a hassle, it was so much easier to get dressed via the Sheikah Slate. Less fabric to get tangled up in. “You’re hopeless.” Zelda informed him sounding amused and fond as he felt hands tug the fabric down over him. He gestured his thanks, smiling a bit to see her in his clothing. It was kind of strange, seeing her dressed like this. He reached up, undoing the pins in her hair, fingers quickly undoing the braids and messing up her sleek smooth strands. He could never get his hair nearly as soft and nice. The thought of if Sidon liked his hair, so different than the Zora’s scaled flickered through his mind, then he dismissed it. He was pretty sure that Sidon liked him, scales or no scales. Pretty sure. “Gah.” Zelda batted his hands away, stepping backwards out of reach before moving towards her vanity, checking her hair in the mirror. She made a face at seeing it so disordered, then grabbed a tie, pulling it back in a messy pony tail, then teasing the hair out on the sides of her face a bit. “What do you think?” She asked, looking up at him. Link walked over so they could see each other in the mirror. They looked disturbingly alike. They could almost be siblings, possibly even twins. He nodded, and she echoed the movement. “Okay.” She agreed. “This’ll work.” He gave her a thumbs up. +++ A knock on the door interrupted Link’s concentration and he growled in annoyance. He stood up, detouring long enough to grab a blanket from Zelda’s bed and tossed it over his head, wrapping it around himself like a cocoon before opening the door. “What?” He snapped, his voice low and rough. “n-Never mind.” Councillor Tyrol scurried off. Link huffed, shutting the door with a slam and went back to making smaller scales out of larger scales for armour. +++ “Got any clothing in red?” Bazz inquired, idly twirling his trident in one hand. It immediately put Link on edge, because there was something a little too casual sounding to the warrior’s tone. 

‘No.’ Link signed, confused. Almost all of his clothing was blue, unless he took the time to dye it. ‘Why?’ “Could you get some?” Bazz asked. Link shrugged. He didn’t have any at hand, but it’d be easy enough to swing by the Hateno Village and talk to Sayge at the Kochi Dye Shop. He could spare five rupees for payment, and a few extra apples or spicy peppers he could use for red dye. ‘Yeah. Why?’ 

“The next time you come to see the Prince, you should wear something red.” 

This was starting to sound really suspicious. ‘Anything specific I should wear?’ 

“Doesn’t matter. Just something bright red.” Bazz shook his head. “As a favour to me?” He asked, attempting to look as sweet and innocent as a kitten. It didn’t quite work.

Link did kind of owe Bazz for his help in making the armour, making sure it’d fit the prince and keeping it a secret from Sidon. “Okay.” He agreed. It was easy enough. 

“Thanks.” Bazz gave him a bright grin, full of razor sharp teeth and Link wondered just what he’d gotten himself into. 

++++

“Link! My Dear!” Link had just enough warning to brace himself before he was picked up and pressed against Sidon’s ginormous chest. “It is such a pleasure to see you!”

“Sidon!” Link wrapped his arms around Sidon, pressing as close as he could. Sidon smelled like he usually did, water and musk, something always made Link relax. 

It meant safety, comfort, and laughter.

He kissed the nearest part of Sidon he could reach, his jaw just below the fin that framed his face and felt a small shiver run down Sidon’s frame. 

Sidon eased his grip slightly, pulling back so he could look Link over. “It’s so good to see you healthy. No new scars?” 

Link smiled and shook his head. Sidon beamed in delight, taking Link’s hand and kissing the palm. “I’m glad.” 

Seriously, Sidon was the only person who worried if Link could take care of himself. Well, maybe other than Zelda, but she was more likely to laugh at him for it. 

“Is this new?” Sidon asked, peering at Link’s shirt. It was just a basic tunic, but he’d dyed it the bright red of fresh chillies, as Bazz had requested. 

Link shrugged. Honestly, he couldn’t remember where he’d picked the shirt up from. 

“I like it!” Sidon beamed at him, and Link wondered how he could contain such joy in his face. “We match!” 

… They did. He looked at the shirt against Sidon’s scales and realised that they did, the dye almost the same colour as Sidon. Anyone seeing them together would probably assume they were a matched set. 

He didn’t know whether to be grateful or to strangle Bazz for his meddling, when Sidon barely set him down for the remainder of the day, almost always keeping in contact with Link. He also made a note to wear more red, if this was Sidon’s reaction. 

-fin- -And that’s all folks.

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Hey, Lance.” A taunting laugh, smirk audible in his voice. “I got your lion back.”

He’s so smug he’s dripping with it, truly. If satisfaction was a person he would be the one and only Keith Gyeong, prodigy pilot extraordinaire.

He did, however, go out of his way to get Lance’s lion back for him. So.

“Thank you, Keith,” Lance says, injecting as much sincerity into his voice as he can muster. He’s well aware he’s still at a disadvantage here, and he knows Keith is his best shot for help (he would literally rather die than ask Shiro, Pidge would take twelve thousand photos and hoard them over his head for eternity, Hunk has a told-you-so problem, and he doesn’t know the Alteans well enough to take that particular L in front of them). “Now can you come and unchain me?”

Lance is expecting teasing. Duh. That’s the point of this whole rivalry spiel. He is not, however, expecting to be abandoned.

“What’s that? Uh, you’re cutting out, I can’t — I can’t hear you —”

Oh, Lance is going to kill him.

“Come on! I thought we bonded!”

Nothing. Not even static over the comms, which tells Lance that Keith has yet to fucking cut the connection, and is, in fact, being a horrible smug jerk.

A horrible smug jerk that is Lance’s only saving grace, unfortunately.

Man, fuck. Why is Lance expected to be friends with this jerk again?

“Keith?”

Still nothing.

“Buddy?”

Fuck, not even a muffled snigger.

“…My man?”

Is it desperate? Yes. Was the bonding dig also desperate? Yep. Is Lance digging himself into a deeper hole by the minute? Quite probably.

He does that regularly, though. He’ll get out eventually.

Hopefully.

Lance continues to nag a silent Keith through the comms, and then switches to cussing him out, in as many languages as he can (which is a lot. He doubts Keith has ever been called a fart-snorting garbage-guzzler in Gaelic, heh. Ass). He’s hoping to incense Keith enough to get him to fire back and prove that he’s been listening all along, but not too much that he turns around and refuses to help. It’s a delicate balance. Lance is usually very good at it. (Nothing on Earth is funnier than making your older siblings absolutely raging mad and then watching them continue to help you with whatever you ask for. It is, truly, an art form.)

But since Lance was forsaken by the gods the very second he was shot into space, Keith remains absolutely soundless.

And honestly? How dare he.

Muttering to himself, Lance tries to shift into a slightly more comfortable position. Eventually he manages to get his knees under him, chest to the floor, and curves his back to take the pressure off his wrists, which isn’t amazing but is better than before. It’s certainly not easy to do — this handcuff shit is hard. Lance always thought it would be way more fun.

“Well, damn, Sanchez. You sure you even want me to help you? You’re lookin’ pretty comfortable all stretched out.”

Lance yelps loudly, startling at Keith’s drawl. When the hell did he get here? Why didn’t Lance see him arrive in Red?

“Did you seriously use Pidge’s cloaking just to sneak up on me?” he demands.

Keith steps into Lance’s field of vision, smirking up a goddamn storm. He crouches right beside the pole Lance is chained to, reaching out a hand (dodging Lance’s attempt to bite his fingers off) and tilting up his chin.

“‘Course,” he admits, easy as pie. Then his smirk gets wider. “Think I was gonna pass up a chance to see ya all tied up and testy, pretty boy?”

Pretty boy.

Oh, no. Oh no, no, no.

“Fuck,” Lance says, aghast. “Fuck, fuck!”

The sudden expletives startles Keith, a little, and the smug expression drops from his face.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Lance face contorts in panic. “You’re hot! You’re not supposed to be hot! Fuck!”

This is Lance’s own goddamn fault, really, but he would like to take a brief moment to blame both higher powers and the internet at large for making him this way.

The thing is that Lance likes to bug people. He likes to push people’s buttons and run off before they can push his back. Usually, anyway, people don’t want to push his back; they just want to throw shit at him or roll their eyes and walk away.

But Keith?

Of course not. Heaven forbid Keith act like every other human being on the planet — er, well, alien in the universe. No, Keith has absolutely no trouble snapping right back to whatever Lance throws at him. Keith actually plays his game.

And fuck, does Lance love it.

That’s a huge problem. Massive. Lance doesn’t know what to do with someone who indulges him! That’s not the point! The point is for people to get annoyed and for Lance to win by default! He’s not supposed to be the one getting flustered!

“…What,” Keith says flatly. He blinks rapidly at Lance, confusion written all over his face.

There’s a splash of red spreading across his nose.

“Oh, fuck you!” Lance explodes — or, well, as much as he can while he’s still chained to a fucking pole. “Of course you have to be a fuckin’ — smug jackass! And of course you look good doing it! And of fucking course you’re a goddamn country boy!”

And the hole Lance has dug himself gets deeper.

Lance astounds himself, really. He should arrange to have his mouth glued shut.

“This is the worst! It’s one thing if you’re just some guy, but nooooo! Of course you have fucking — crooked incisors and a Southern drawl! Oh, you are the worst, you know that, Gyeong?”

“This is going in a rapidly different direction than I pictured,” Keith manages.

“Oh, picture me tied up and at your mercy a lot, do you?” Lance snaps back.

It’s a reflex, really. Lance says shit like that all the time, because he’s his own target audience. It never does anything but make people roll their eyes at him, and occasionally land him in detention. Hell, he barely even registered that he said it.

But, fascinatingly, the tiny smudge of red over Keith’s nose explodes into a raging blush, from the roots of his hair down his neck.

“There’s no possible way you know that,” Keith says hotly.

Lance’s jaw drops. “No way that I — I didn’t! I wasn’t — bitch, I was joking!”

Keith scowls, flush getting deeper. “Well, what about the shit you said before? You said I’m hot!”

“Yeah, because you fucking are! I’m not — I don’t daydream about you, at least! I don’t have a — a fucking thing for you, though?”

As he says it, Lance knows he’s lying. All of a sudden every single one of Hunk’s raised eyebrows whenever Lance ranted about Keith start to make a lot of sense.

“Bullshit!” Keith argues. “You always stare at me during training, and you pick random fights with me all the time, and yet you sit next to me all the time for no reason! You’re fuckin’ obsessed with me!”

“I —” Lance stops, jaw clicking shut. It is occurring to him, just now, that straight, non-crush-having people don’t generally obsess over one-sided rivalries for five years, and then do everything they can to make that rivalry a reality.

So. An oversight, perhaps.

“There’s a possibility,” Lance concedes, “that my subconscious, without my permission, has perhaps harboured some strange type of feelings for you.”

“Told you,” Keith says faintly. He looks just as lost as Lance does, though, so it significantly lowers the effect.

Lance is gagged. He is, for once in his life, at a complete loss for what to say. What does this even — who comes up with this kind of shit? Who does this? Lance is his own worst enemy, truly. Sorry, Zarkon, but take a seat.

“Lance, dude?” Hunk’s voice, faint and tinny from Lance’s discarded helmet, makes them both jump. “Do you still need rescuing?”

“Fuck, sorry,” Keith mutters, finally springing into action and deactivating the stupid cuffs. Lance scrambles back the second he’s free, rubbing his wrists and avoiding eye contact with Keith while also constantly sneaking glances aren’t him that aren’t at all sneaky because Keith catches him every time.

“So,” Keith says eventually.

Nope. Lance isn’t having this stupid conversation.

Lance throws a random rock at him.

“Hey!” Keith picks it back up and whips it at Lance immediately, only his aim isn’t as good as Lance’s, and also Lance is already diving to grab more rocks, so he misses. Lance starts pelting Keith with the armful of space rocks he’s gathered, each of them no bigger than an ice cube, all of them pinging harmlessly off Keith’s armour.

“Lance — will you — fucking cut that out!”

He lunges forward, shoving Lance to the ground and pinning Lance’s hands above his head. Lance bucks and squirms, trying several of the new maneuvers Shiro taught them to throw Keith off, but unfortunately Keith had also been present at the training in which they learned these manoeuvres and is therefore unaffected.

“I’ll let you up if you stop throwing shit at me.”

“No.”

“Guess you’re stuck, then.”

Lance tries for several more minutes to escape, but Keith remains firmly where he is, pinning Lance down. Lance is eventually forced to stop unless a new problem wants to pop its way up and make things more embarrassing and horrible.

Lance huffs. “Let me up. I promise not to throw more rocks at you.”

Keith squints suspiciously at him. “Are you lying to me?”

“Yes.”

“Well then — no, obviously?”

“C’mon, Keith.”

Lance does what he always does when he’s backed into a corner — he pulls out the brown doe eyes. He furrows his eyebrows, widening his eyes as big as he can and pouting.

“For fuck’s — oh, fine.”

Keith rolls off Lance, grumbling the whole time.

Lance blinks.

That — that worked? All he had to do was ask, barely, bat his eyelashes a little, and Keith just — listened to him?

“Oh my God, we are down bad for each other,” Lance breathes.

Keith looks ready to argue, but then stops himself, sighing.

“Yeah.”

“What are we going to — fuck, what are we going to do?”

Because Lance is not new to crushes. He’s had more of them than he can physically count. But never in his life has he wanted to judo flip someone as badly as he wanted to make out with them. That’s a new development.

“I dunno,” Keith says helplessly. He’s kind of — curled in on himself, face still red, as if he curls into a tight enough ball he can escape the situation. “You’re the plan guy! When you’re not being a dumbass, that is.”

Ignoring the jab, Lance takes a moment to ponder that. He is kind of the plan guy, isn’t he? It’s him who came up with all the Garrison escape plans he dragged Hunk into. It’s him who came up with the elevator shaft idea. Hell, he can quite possibly trace every one of his major life moments to a point where he said ‘hey, I wonder how I can make this work for me.’

Plan guy. Plan guy. He can be the plan guy. That’s all anything is, right? Making decisions and working out how to get there. He’s good at that.

But what decision does he want with Keith? What does he want with Keith, period?

“Step one,” Lance decides, “is that we should make out.”

Keith looks at him in surprise. “That’s step one?”

Lance nods firmly. “Yep. If we make out now, we can figure out all the weird tension shit. Maybe we don’t actually like each other. Maybe we’re just, like, bored.”

Keith looks doubtful, but he makes his way closer anyway.

“I guess so.”

“Yep.”

“So I just — kiss you?”

“Well, we don’t have all day, Mullet.”

Truly, Lance’s heart is pounding. He has no fucking clue how he’s managing to sound even remotely normal. He feels like he might implode.

Hesitantly, Keith reaches for Lance’s face, resting a palm on his cheek. His hand is warm, even through the gloves of their suits. Hot, really; nearly burning. He rests it there for a moment, absentmindedly — or maybe intentionally — rubbing his thumb across Lance’s cheekbone as his eyes trace nervously over Lance’s lips. He leans in close slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world, eyes fluttering shut as his lips get closer and closer to Lance’s. He gets close enough that Lance can see the startling length of his eyelashes, the tiny mole at the corner of his mouth, the chapped skin of his lips.

Lance doesn’t even know how to categorize the sound that comes out of his mouth when their lips finally touch. It’s — breathy; stuttering. Like all the air escapes out of his lungs the second his skin touches Keith’s.

Keith tilts his head a little, sliding their noses together, his free hand coming to rest at Lance’s hip. Lance’s hands move without his permission, sliding up the chest plate of Keith’s armour and over his shoulders, resting finally in his hair, fingers tangling around the thick black strands. He pulls on them slightly, and Keith gets the hint, opening his mouth and pushing closer.

Lance’s heartbeat slows from its jackrabbit pace. He stops focusing on anything except the warmth of Keith’s skin on his, the rhythm of their mouths moving together, the occasional sighs Keith makes at the back of his throat. He forgets where he is, what he’s doing; hell, he forgets his own damn name. The only thing he cares about is pressing closer to Keith, keeping them melded together.

“Well. Obviously you didn’t need saving.”

Lance’s eyes fly open and he shoves Keith backwards with a yelp.

“Hunk! What — where the fuck did you come from?!”

“Yellow is not a quiet machine,” Hunk says drily. “Like, seriously. The fact that you are just now reacting to my presence speaks wonders. I know you’ve liked Keith for a while now, dude, but there’s no way he’s that good of a kisser.”

“Oh my God,” Keith says faintly, and Lance can’t help but agree.

Goddamn. First he’s kissing Keith, now he’s agreeing with him. What’s next? They gonna co-lead Voltron together, or something?

“Let’s just go,” Lance squeaks, scrambling to his feet and desperately avoiding eye contact. He follows a very amused-looking Hunk back to his lion, enduring his painful amount of teasing with a bright red face and a truly herculean amount of self-control, if he’s being honest. The teasing from the rest of the team is almost worse, their ‘Loverboy Lance’ jokes briefly making him panic that everyone knows about the fact that he and fucking Keith Gyeong just made out, somehow, before he remembers that oh yeah, dumbass, you were just tied to a pole for flirting with the a scam artist.

Yeesh. How time fuckin’ flies.

The only consolation to the staggering amount of humiliation is that Keith keeps glancing at Lance, going red, and looking away. So obviously Lance isn’t the only one so affected, which is a relief.

Once everyone has finally gotten their fill of making fun of Lance, Shiro dismisses them, and Lance makes a beeline to his room. He rushes through his skincare routine as quickly as he can, refusing to let himself think about a single thing the entire time.

It doesn’t work. Every single time he catches sight of his own reflection, he’s reminded that his face just spent inordinate amounts of time pressed against Keith’s not even an hour ago. Keith is all he can think about.

Plan. Plan. What’s the plan? Is there a plan?

It is not a surprise when he hears a knock at his door.

“So,” Keith says when Lance opens it, rocking back in his heels. “What’s — uh, what’s step two?”

Lance smiles, allowing himself to feel the giddiness that’s bubbling up his throat, the parts of him that are yelling ‘Keith! Keith Gyeong! He sought me out! He wants to go further! With me!’

“Let’s figure that out together,” Lance says, pulling Keith into the room and shutting the door. “I’m thinking this is going to be more of a two-man operation.”

[twogyuu]

the unoriginal villain origin story [teaser]

Pairing: Jeonghan x fem!reader (ft. friend!Wonwoo)

Synopsis: In which Jeonghan and his friends recount the first time and the many "accidents" after that led to you 💙

Alternatively, throwback to the time you thought all the bleach he used to go blonde made him insane, but he was still equally wild years later -- and you were okay with it.

Genre: Fluff, crack, prequel to Wonwoo's Tasty Milk (and Cereal) and not just magic, dilf!jeonghan, uncle!wonwoo (he's engaged LOL), part university!au, part office romance (but not really?), mild E2L (they're not really enemies, but OC definitely trying to stay AWAY from Jeonghan at first), one-sided pining, he fell first but she fell harder and then he fell hardest(?) kind of story?,

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of food, one comment about Jeonghan getting reader pregnant (jokingly)

Teaser WC: 563 || est WC: ~8k

A/N: I should really make a masterlist for this anthology LOL.

. . . .

“So,” Leah starts with her mouth half-full, capturing the table’s attention. She’s quick to cover her lips and swallow her food before continuing. “I’m curious,” she points between Jeonghan and you, “How’d you two end up together? As long as I’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve been married.”

Immediately, Wonwoo snorts, nearly spitting out his dinner on his friend sitting across the table. Jeonghan scorns in disgust, frowning, offended as to why Wonwoo finds his fiance’s question amusing. In contrast, you seem to lose your appetite, silver fork clattering against your half-filled ceramic plate. You grow quiet, straightening your spine and avoiding eye contact like you were back in middle school, caught red-handed with a confession letter to your crush. 

“I honestly thought she was going to end up with Baekho – she loathed Jeonghan with a passion,” Wonwoo chuckles to himself as he redirects his chopsticks at your husband. “But Jeonghan knocked her up – that’s what happened.” 

“Okay,” Jeonghan is quick to interject. He raises his hands to cover his daughter's ears from Wonwoo's obscenities. Nina peers up at her dad innocentlu. sighing and shooting Wonwoo a bored, but annoyed look.“That’s not what happened – do you have to put it that way?” 

The other man only shrugs his shoulders, raising his palms to the sky playing coy and oblivious. 

Leah’s eyes flicker back and forth between you and your husband, then sweet Nina. Leah’s innocent smile slowly fading as you neither confirmed or answered. She isn’t aware that this was a sensitive topic for you and Jeonghan, and the last thing she wants to do is offend her fiance’s friends! The two of you just seem to get along so well and so in love, for lack of a better description, it’s hard for Leah to imagine much malice as to how you met and got together. Yet, this raises the additional worrisome, unfounded suspicion: Did you and Jeonghan just get married out of convenience?

No – that couldn’t be! Wonwoo is a sensible man; he wouldn’t be laughing if it was a pitiful marriage of convenience. 

“She didn’t hate me,” Jeonghan starts to explain. 

“She blocked your number after the blind date,” Wonwoo interjects. 

You met during a blind date?

“It wasn’t even our blind date,” Jeonghan quickly shoots back. He clenches his jaw, clearly getting fed up with Wonwoo’s teasing. 

This is certainly interesting for Leah . . . Jeonghan frequently annoyed Wonwoo, not that the latter gave the older gentleman the reaction he wanted, but it is rare to see Wonwoo get under Jeonghan’s skin. 

“It wasn’t, which makes it all the funnier,” Wonwoo comments, “In fact, she was technically,” Wonwoo holds his fingers up in air quotes, “‘my blind date.’”

“I was merely doing you a favor by tagging along – and it was free food!” you finally exclaim, frowning at Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo waves you off, smirking, “Jeonghan was down bad.”

Confused, Leah holds up a hand to silence the bickering. She shakes her head, “Wait, wait, wait – please start from the beginning. I didn’t grow up with you guys, so I’m so lost.”

Like those corny rom-coms, you and Jeonghan turn to look at each other at the same time, exchanging a knowing, tired look. There’s a bashful tinge to your expression; interestingly, the corner of Jeonghan’s lips quirks up in a crooked, smug smile. 

Sure, you may have resisted (NOT hate) him at first, and Wonwoo can make fun of him all he wants, but it’s Yoon Jeonghan who won in the end.

After all, you're sitting next to him at the dinner of your shared home as his wife and Nina's mom after all.