#and then it's all Oh So You Don't Actually See Yourself As A REAL Man. You're Such A Fake! and it's like sighs. sighs so loudly.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Haechan ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Haechan x f!idol!reader

summary: what better way to promote your new music than to do an interview with your boyfriend?! Does he know that? No!

(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)

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You were grinning widely as you sat in the pink chair. You bowed to the camera introducing yourself with an excited smile, "Hi everybody! I'm so excited to be here today. The staff and I have planned a bit of a prank today."

Your friendship with Haechan had started when you debuted. Haechan was one of the first idols around your age that you felt comfortable with. He was funny, nice, and was a good friend. He gave you a lot of advice on how to handle the long days, how to speak up with your company, and how to take care of yourself when it all got to be too much. And perhaps... taking care of yourself meant indulging in your friendship with Haechan, in private and in public.

The fans had surprisingly been pretty cool about both of you being close. It wasn't very often that fans got to see two idols from different companies have a genuine friendship. They liked seeing the two of you play around backstage, the random mention of each other in YouTube vlogs or lives, and the very few and far between posts you shared of each other.

When the edits evolved from 8 whole minutes of the two of you being the best of friends to the both of you being secretly in love for 11 minutes, maybe, just maybe, you both began to see each other in a new way. Maybe you guys went on a date to test the waters and maybe that date meant that the two of you became something more and maybe this video would be one of the first times you both directly acknowledged your romantic relationship. Well, beyond standard wordy posts that your companies put out to disclose your relationship.

You smile at the camera, "today I will be pranking my boyfriend Haechan. He thinks he's doing this interview with someone else and has no clue its me!"

Finally, on the other side of the wall, enters the set and sits himself in the blue chair, "Hello, I am Haechan from NCT. Today I will be using the screen name Sunshine and I am excited to figure out my partner is. I think I'll figure it out very easily."

On your side of the wall you, cup a hand over your mouth to suppress a giggle, "I'm going to be so annoying!"

"Hey," you type, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing.

"Oh, it's starting!" you hear Haechan exclaim. You phone vibrates with a message that reads, 'hey.'

"Geez, he's really boring isn't he? Let's make this more exciting!" You laugh, typing back something you don't think you'd ever tell your boyfriend to his face, "wow, I know this is a handsome man I'm talking to. Tell me, are you handsome?"

Haechan flushes in front of the pink wall with his jaw dropped in shock, "w-what?!"

You calm down a bit, not being as bold with your flirtation so that the both of you could progress the conversation. You both make small talk, talking about base level interests. Then comes the home screen exchange. You'd been preparing for this!

Since no one ever really saw your homescreens, you and Haechan had decided to have cute matching backgrounds, a cute couples selfie you'd taken together. What he didn't know, and you didn't tell him because he was so whiny, was that you had changed it. So he sent you an blurred version of his usual background, a picture of the two of you with you biting his cheek and his eyes screwed shut laughing. You knew the picture well, not only because you lived it but also because you had the picture that followed as your own background before you changed it for this interview.

Haechan's phone dropped from his hands, eyes blown wide in shock again. The staff were busy laughing behind the camera while you sat with a smug smile, listening for his reaction. "Is this real? Is this actually your background?" You read the message that had been sent to you.

"Why wouldn't it be?" You message him back.

Haechan doesn't even look at his phone again, he locks his screen and sets it on his thigh. He groans, rubbing his hands through his hair and over his face, "how do you turn someone down nicely?"

You bite your lip when you hear that. Your plan had worked, your precious Haechan was flushed and embarrassed. You type back, "do you know NCT Haechan? He's so talented and funny. I'm a big fan, are you?"

"Yeah, it couldn't be more obvious," Haechan grumbles, staring at the homescreen. He can't look at any of the apps or notifications because he's staring at his own face! A collage of pictures of him-- only him. Pictures of him from his debut to pictures of him from his last performance.

Maybe he was speaking to some kind of comedian, it was some kind of joke that happened to revolve around him. He'd watched some of these interviews before and it never worked out that one person knew who they were texting and the other didn't. This had to be some kind of strange coincidence.

He somehow expertly turned the conversation around, evading your question and changed the conversation into something more lighthearted. Then comes the first Would You Rather. The question: would you rather make a burping sound while farting or farting sound while burping?

You take a second to think, considering the question then finally send your answer, "I think I'd rather make a farting sound while burping."

"Really?" Haechan replies, "why is that? I mean I agree, but I'm curious to hear your reasoning?"

"Tell me yours first," you reply.

"Well mostly I don't want to feel the rumbling feeling of a burp in my butt," Haechan types out.

"He's so gross," you mutter as you read the screen, "he's such a guy." And yet you type out a message, "wow, that's so manly of you.."

Haechan runs his hand through his hair, "how would someone read that and find it attractive?"

Again, he doesn't address your flirting. He maneuvers around it, he doesn't want to be the guy that hurts yours or anyone's feelings, even a stranger's.

By the time the both of you get to the end of the interview having just sent the most recent pictures in your camera roll to each other, Haechan feels a horrible ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. You had sent him a picture of a flower from some bush outside and he had sent you a picture of the products that had been used on his face before the interview. (He'd sent the picture to you.) How is he going to handle this?!

He looks up from yet another flirty message with a look of unease, "you guys don't do these things with crazy fans right?"

The staff reassure him that no, they absolutely would not ever do anything to put him or anyone else in harm's way. His partner is just a silly person, a jokester.

You, on the other hand, are a ball of excitement to reveal yourself. The time comes to meet your partner, though you already know yours. You prop yourself on the wall, one hand outstretched against the wall and the other on your hip.

Haechan rounds the corner and sees you. You flip your hair, winking at him with a, "hey, handsome."

He falls to his knees, hand clutched over his heart while he lets out a sigh of relief and a loud exaggerated whine, "how could my own lover do this to me?!"

It takes both you and the staff to calm Haechan down, but you eventually get him to sit in the chair of the high top table and get the frown off his face. He's still pouty of course, and he lets you know so, "how could you do this to me?"

"With the help of my managers, your managers, the production here at Kode... duh," you answer, squeezing his knee beneath the table reassuringly.

"You're so funny," he deadpans, "but seriously, I was so stressed that I was going to have to see a real life crazy person and turn them down while maintaining my safety. Thank goodness it was a real life crazy person I already knew."

You shove his shoulder with a laugh, "so you had no clue who it was?"

"Absolutely no clue," Haechan confirms, "I did think that this was going to be easy at first, but you came on so strong that I had to mostly focus on getting us to have a normal, not flirty conversation. Did you have fun stressing me out, my menace?"

"The best time ever," you nod with a proud smile.

Haechan lets out a breathy laugh, more of a soft exhale of air as he pulls your hand up and pressed a kiss against the back of your hand, "I'm never doing an interview with you ever again."

"You say that now, but you're my biggest fan. Don't you want me to be successful? How can I be successful if even my handsome, sunbaenim boyfriend won't help me?" You tease, looking at him with a look all too innocent to be real.

"Oh right. Please make sure to check out my girlfriend's first solo debut. The music is amazing, her voice sounds like angels singing, the music videos are award winning, the outfits are out of this world and there is nothing like it in all the world. Please support her... or I will have to," Haechan states with a fake smile while looking right into the lens of the camera, letting his smile drop into a pleading face for the ending.

"Yes, please make sure to check out my solo! I appreciate it," you smile at the camera, bowing to show your gratitude. While you fulfill your promoting duties you miss the adoring look on Haechan's face. The way his eyes soften and he looks at you with a calm, serene look of love.

You look at him with a soft smile, "can you forgive me for my prank?"

He tugs you into his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, "I can make an exception if you promise this will be the last time you prank me."

"Well, of course," you answer too quickly. A lie, of course.

The conversation between you dwindles down and the two of you take your selfie. You smile brightly at the camera with your head tucked beneath Haechan's chin, Haechan smiles sweetly at the camera with his usual close-lipped smile. It's the first selfie as a romantic couple that anyone will see of the two of you and it makes you slightly nervous, but more than anything you're excited for people to see just a sliver of the dynamic you and Haechan share, the love that's there.

"Thank you to the team at Kode for having us and thank you to the fans in advance for all the love and support. I hope you love it," you smile at the cameras.

The video ends with the screen fading to black, but if fans listen closely, they can hear Haechan reassuring you, "everyone is going to love it, honey. How could they not love anything you do?"

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Listen I’m going insane from how you write Stan and been rereading your spicy chatting headcanons and…. Am I too greedy if I’ll ask for sex call with him?? 🥲

when the pervy old man meets his match

tags: smut, nsfw, fem reader, phone sex, competitive dirty talk, established relationship, reader is just as much of a menace as Stan

hey honey thank you so much! here it is! it's honestly just full of dialogues lmao. sorry i wrote this in a depraved frenzy and did not look back. if there are mistakes, pretend you don’t see them. if it’s too filthy, no it’s not<3 mb I'll correct it later

your phone rings and it's midnight. a little devilish smile appears on your lips. you know exactly who it is.

“finally,” you purr, picking up. “was wondering how long it’d take for you to crack, old man.”

“tch. crack?” Stan scoffs. “sweetheart, i was givin' you a chance to call first. figured you’d get too desperate to wait.”

you smirk, rolling onto your back. ”oh, is that what you think?”

“i know it.” he laughs. “ain’t had my hands on ya in three whole days. bet you’re losin’ your goddamn mind over it.”

cocky bastard.

“hmm,” you hum in amusement. “who said i haven’t had my hands on myself instead?”

“heh, sure, doll, then you just laid there all frustrated, wishin’ it was me instead of your hand.”

“oh, no, Stan,” you interrupt innocently. “i came.” he stops breathing. “mm, and it felt so good, too, made such a mess. you would’ve loved it.”

Stanley goes silent. oh, you’ve got him now. “. . . the fuck’d you just say?”

you stretch out on the bed, imagining the look on his face. jaw tight. eyes dark. grip white-knuckling his phone.

“you heard me,” you coo. “been keeping myself nice and satisfied while you’re gone.”

a lie. a blatant, filthy lie. of course you want him. but you won’t say that. not yet.

“what’s the matter?” you murmur, teasing. “dont tell me. . . you jealous of my fingers?”

Stan lets out a harsh breath. “yeah, actually,” he growls. “bet they don’t even get the job done right and you still finish all needy and desperate, just wishin’ it was my cock instead.”

fuck. your breath hitches slightly, so tiny, but Stan hears it.

“. . . ohhh, that gotcha, huh?” his voice dips, turning low. “ya can play all confident, sweetheart, act like ya ain’t fuckin’ sufferin’ without me, like ya ain’t practically drippin’ just hearin’ my voice—“

you swallow. hard. your smile fades from your confident face

“but we both know the truth, don’t we?”

no, you don't give up. “you sound real worked up, Stanley. do you need me to take care of it for you?”

a sharp inhale from the other end. “heh,” he grits out. “you wish.”

“yeah, sounds like you’re getting all hot and bothered over there. you’re already touching yourself, huh? couldn’t help it?”

“hah,” Stan scoffs, but his voice sounds weaker now. oh, you’re winning.

“c’mon, baby,” you whisper in a honey-sweet voice. “tell me. are you hard?”

he exhales through his teeth. “maybe.”

“aw, poor Stanley, been away from me too long, huh? you must be so worked up, all desperate and aching. . .”

Stan grins. “sweetheart, i’m a grown-ass man. i ain’t desperate for anything.”

you pause long enough to make his skin prickle. then softly and slowly you say quietly “so you’re not hard right now?”

fuck. his body betrays him instantly. because, obviously he is. painfully so. has been since the second he heard your voice, if he’s being honest. but like hell is he gonna admit that to you.

“nah,” he lies too quickly.

you giggle. “liar.”

“shut up,” he mutters.

“sorry, Stanley, i cant shut up, thinking about how i’d drop to my knees for you, pull your pants down real slow, press my tongue right up against that thick cock and—”

“oh, for fuck’s sake—“

“you’d be so sensitive, all needy and throbbing for me. i could get you begging in five minutes.”

“like hell you could!”

your laugh is pure evil. “oh, really?” Stan knows that tone, he’s in trouble. “wanna prove it, old man?”

Stan grits his teeth. “you little minx,” he growls. “fine. you wanna play? we play. wanna know what i think?” your stomach tightens, you're so not ready to hear that. but it's so damn sexy when he gets like that. “i know you’re sittin’ there all wet and needy, waitin’ for me to take over.”

your breath catches as your fingers start moving faster.

“aww, see? can hear it in your breath, baby. you love lettin’ me take control, huh? love bein’ my little plaything?”

you grip the sheets.

“y’think about my cock, huh?” that bastard teases. ”you ache for it and dream about me splittin’ you open, fuckin’ you deep ‘til you cry.”

your thighs press together as you try to bring yourself to orgasm while he talks.

“tell me, baby, what’s your favorite way for me to fuck ya?”

you stop for a second, breathing. “. . .i dunno, you tell me.”

Stan groans and laughs. “that’s what i thought. you like it every way i give it to ya. you like gettin’ thrown around, pinned down, bent over. like when i take my time, when i tease, when i make you beg for it. like when i spread your legs and fuck ya slow, so deep your little cunt flutters around me, just tryin’ to suck me in.”

you let out a quiet sob, rubbing your clit harder. shit. okay. he came prepared.

“remember the last time i had ya?” fuck. he's dirty for this. “spread ya out on the kitchen table, pushed those pretty little legs open, had ya beggin' for my cock while i just tapped it against that messy little cunt.”

heat spikes through your belly. your brain melting

“and you were so fuckin’ wet, so messy for me. couldn't even hold still. had to pin ya down, keep ya in place, make ya take it nice and deep. and god, the way ya screamed when i finally gave it to ya,” he groans, pumping his twitching cock. “cried so pretty for me, took every single inch like a good fuckin’ girl.”

you exhale.

“aw, babyy,” Stan mocks. “gettin’ all squirmy over there? miss me poundin’ that tight little cunt open? miss feelin’ my cock knockin’ up against your cervix?”

oh, this bastard. he knows exactly what he’s doing. knows how to talk you into a goddamn frenzy, how to drag you through every memory, making you feel it all over again. but you won’t let him win.

“eh, big talk for a man who passed out immediately after a blowjob.”

Stan huffs.

“it's just,” you muse. “i think i might need to find someone who can actually keep up with me.”

“sweetheart,” he growls. “don't fuckin' start with me.”

you grin. “what, old man? afraid someone else could fuck me better?”

“honestly, you're such a fucking brat.” he mutters resentfully.

“and you're all alone, jerking off to the thought of me like some pathetic old pervert.”

Stan groans and that sound makes you clench around nothing.

“hehe, you stroking it, old man? pumping that fat cock real slow, thinkin’ about how tight my pussy is?”

his eyes widen. wow. . . you're too brave today. he likes that. “sweet moses,” you hear him groaning.

“tell me, baby, am i right? it's throbbing? just begging to be buried inside me?”

“fuckin’ hell,” Stan hisses. “fuck, f-fuck, shit. . .”

wide cocky smile appears on your face. oh you love this. love how you can hear the tension in his breath, imagining how he’s gripping himself too tight, trying to hold on, trying not to lose.

but he’s gonna. he’s so gonna.

“y’know what i was thinking about earlier?” you murmur.

Stan swallows. “wh-what?”

you grin. “how deep you get when you fuck me.” Stan's response is low whimper when he circles his leaking tip with his fingers. “no, seriously, you stretch me so wide, Stanley. get all the way up against my cervix, push me down into the mattress, just ruining me. i love hearing your groans when i bite your shoulder.”

his breathing is much heavier now, he's already so close.

“Stanley? you close?“

“y-you’re gonna fuckin’ regret this,” he grits out.

“what’s wrong, old man? you were all big and bad a second ago. now ya can’t even keep up? i know how bad you want it, how much you miss the way i take you so deep, so tight”

Stanley is so fucking close.

“you’re leaking, huh? and you’re still trying to hold back,” another mocking sympathy from you. “so stubborn, determined not to let me win. guess i’ll just have to break you, then. oh yeah,” you laugh when you hear another moan from him. “that gotcha, huh? i know you’d love that, you’d love me getting on top, riding you all slow and deep, keeping you right on the edge ‘till you’re begging me for it, begging me to let you cum inside of me.”

“f-fuck, baby, just. . . just like that,” his voice is shaking.

“you gonna cum, Stan? gonna make a mess all over yourself just from hearing my voice?”

“you—fuck—you little—”

suddenly his phone vibrates with a notification. you just sent him a photo.

he barely has time to open it before he sees you, spread out as you fuck yourself open on your fingers.

Stan sucks in a sharp breath. “what. . . the fuck”

“somethin’ wrong?” you coo.

silence, hes silent until you hear choked loud “oh oh oh, fuckkk” and you know he lost, so fucking hard. his orgasm hits hard, violent, brain-melting, his body tensing, groaning your name through gritted teeth. you hear the sharp inhale, the shaky breath, the low, drawn-out moan as he spills messy over his fist.

“awww, couldn’t hold out, huh?”

Stan pants, breathless. “fuck you.”

“you wish,” you smirk, giggling.

“okay okay. you won.” Stanley admits, rubbing his sweaty forehead. “you won, baby.”

“but you put up a good fight, old man!”

he groans. “hot belgian waffles, what the hell am i gonna do with you?”

“maybe bend me over the second you get home and teach me a lesson?”

Stan chuckles. “oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you just signed up for.”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Babe do you have any ideas with a Fred Weasley snuggling in his wife's lap? (Or gn partner idc) I don't know, he's had a rough day and needs comfort

something's made him angry or insecure...

A/n: MY BABY!!!

The Flat was quiet. Too quiet.

It was the usual kind of silence that didn’t belong in a home that was usually full of laughter, chatter, and the occasional explosion from the twins’ latest prank product. But tonight, the house felt still, as if even the walls knew something was off.

You were curled up on the couch, a knitted blanket draped over your legs as you waited for Fred to come home. He had sent a quick message earlier—just a short, clipped note saying he’d be late. No teasing remark, no cheeky nickname, just a plain message. That alone told you something was wrong.

Fred Weasley was rarely quiet.

The fireplace flared to life, casting a warm glow over the room, and a second later, Fred stepped through the flames. He looked exhausted, his shoulders hunched under the weight of whatever had happened today. His usual easy grin was nowhere to be seen, and his eyes, normally alight with mischief, were dull and tired. A frown forming on your lips the moment you caught sight of your husband's weary expression.

“Freddie?” you called softly, setting your book aside.

He didn’t answer right away. He just stood there for a moment, staring at the floor like he wasn’t sure what to do next. That’s when you knew—whatever had happened at the shop today wasn’t just a minor annoyance. This was something heavier.

Without another word, you opened your arms for him, book long forgotten.

And that was all it took.

Fred let out a quiet, shaky breath before making his way over to you. He practically collapsed into your lap, his long limbs folding as he buried his face in your stomach. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding on like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

You said nothing at first, just ran your fingers through his fiery hair, gently scratching his scalp the way you knew he liked. He exhaled slowly, the tension in his body beginning to unwind with every stroke of your fingers. His body already melting into yours, clinging to you as if you were his last resort.

It was rare to see Fred like this—so unguarded, so vulnerable. He was always the one making others laugh, lifting their spirits with a joke or a prank. But even the brightest souls had their dark days, and when those moments came, you were always there to catch him.

After a while, he mumbled something against your shirt, his voice muffled. Fingers flexing and unflexing around the sweater you wore.

“What was that, love?” you asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Fred shifted slightly but didn’t lift his head. “Just… a rough day at the shop,” he murmured.

You kept running your fingers through his hair, waiting for him to say more.

“Had a customer come in—some bloke who thought it’d be funny to start ranting about how we’re just selling nonsense, how it’s all a joke,” Fred muttered, his voice tight. “Said we weren’t real businessmen, that we were just playing around while people were out doing actual work.”

You felt a flare of anger rise in your chest. You knew how much Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes meant to Fred and George. They had built that shop from the ground up, pouring their hearts and souls into every product, every joke, every detail, not to mention how they had to rebuild everything after the war and to have someone belittle that, to make Fred doubt even for a second that his work wasn’t valuable—it infuriated you.

Shaking your head, pushing down your anger you calmed yourself. This was about making your husband feel better, the man who went out of his way to make you smile.

“Oh, Freddie,” you murmured, tightening your arms around him. “You know that’s not true, right?”

Fred huffed against your stomach. “Yeah, I know. But I hate that it got to me. Normally, I’d just tell a tosser like that to shove off, but today…” His grip on your waist tightened. “I don’t know. It just… stuck.”

You cupped his face, gently guiding him to look up at you. His brown eyes were stormy, filled with frustration and something more vulnerable underneath.

“Listen to me, Fred Weasley,” you said firmly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You and George created something incredible. You bring people joy, laughter, and a little bit of magic when they need it most. That’s not nonsense. That’s a gift.”

Fred blinked up at you, the corner of his lips twitching, like he wanted to smile but wasn’t quite there yet.

“And if some miserable sod doesn’t see that, then that’s his loss,” you continued. “Not yours.”

Resting your head against his, Fred just stared at you, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the truth in your words. Then, finally, he sighed and nuzzled back into your lap, his face resting against your stomach once more.

“You always know what to say,” he murmured.

You smiled, threading your fingers through his hair again. “That’s because I know you, love. And I know how incredible you are.”

Fred let out a deep breath, his body fully relaxing against you. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, you know that?”

You laughed softly, pressing another kiss to his temple. “I do. But I never get tired of hearing it.”

He let out a soft chuckle, the first real laugh you’d heard from him all night. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other. No words were needed now—just the warmth of your embrace, the steady rhythm of your hands in his hair, and the quiet reassurance that no matter how hard the world tried to bring him down, you would always be there to lift him back up.

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

i literally hate when people act like transandrophobia isn't real despite the fact that i am constantly excommunicated from online spaces talking about misogyny/transmisogyny because i am a trans man. despite that the reason that those things do effect me is because i am a trans man. and i am never included in discussions about pregnancy/abortion and u.ter.ine/vag.in.al health despite both of those literally being things i have to think about and deal with because i have a u.ter.us and a vag.ina. despite the fact that i do not pass (and might never pass) and have had to and will probably always have to deal with people misgendering me and seeing me as a woman and being misogynistic to me because of it. and people being chill with me for a while but then automatically seeing me as predatory the second they find out i'm a man. and people seeing me as inherently inferior and physically weaker than cis men.

transphobes will always see me as a woman until they can oppress me about being a man. they will only properly gender me when they can use it against me. to call me weak and predatory and irrelevant and 'entitled.' but sure. i'm not oppressed because i'm a man.

[lost-romantique]

Imagine being Stolas...

You're chilling on your living room couch drinking your favorite brand of alcohol, waiting for the commercial to finish so you can watch your favorite rom-com.

All of a sudden, the channel switches to a live broadcast of your ex-situationship that you still can't get over, despite how much of an ass he was last time you saw him.

"Oh my Lucifer! What are they doing!?"

You rush in anyway to stop whatever the fuck is going on because OBVIOUSLY you can't just sit there and do nothing!?

You don't think, you're an autopilot, but you have one thought on your mind. You need to save him! You love him! It doesn't matter how much he hurt you, he also saved you in so many ways, and you still love him! FOR FUCKS SAKES! YOU WOULD DIE FOR THIS MAN!

And all of a sudden, you’re on a suicide mission...

You will take the fall for whatever his charges may be because you love him, and it's better to die than live in a world without him in it.

You go in that courtroom knowing that you are going to die that day. You expect it.

Of course, you have some reservations doing this, some regrets...

The man you're sacrificing yourself for will probably never return your feelings, but what can you do?

You love him so much, and can't imagine a world without him.

If one of you has to go, it's better you than him.

You're bound by chains and the moment of your impending death approaches...

The moment he's freed, he rushes right to you, clutching at you, desperately begging you not to do what you're about to do.

He fights his captors tooth and nail, having to be dragged out in chains, and he doesn't stop screaming your name.

You feel a flood of emotions, happiness, sadness, love, anger, desperation, longing... so you give him one last look.

It's here, you're impending death and as you approach the device that's about to seal your fate, you're at peace with your decision...

Only...

You didn't die... You can't die...

You're royalty after all...

Your life holds actual worth...

Instead, they strip you out of house and home. Taking away everything of value as you're banished from the life you've led till now.

The only thing you could think about as you're stripped of everything is your daughter.

They drag you out of court, and throw you to the gallows and the first person you see is the man that you did all this for...

And the first thing he does is grab your hand and offer you a place to stay...

People are throwing things at you, makes sense, you did this to yourself after all... but he keeps you close, wrapping his arm around your waist as he leads you back to his place.

He takes you by the hand, and for the first time ever you see his tiny dingy one-bedroom apartment that's a lot smaller than you thought it would be.

As you look at the unfamiliar surroundings of this small home, you're greeted by the sight of the man you did all this for and his daughter, hugging...

And it fucking destroys you, as the gravity of the situation finally dawns...

You have just lost everything for a man you think doesn't give a shit about you.

You were supposed to die...

Why aren't you dead?

Why do you have to live with the consequences of your own actions?

Things are a blur...

Fuzzy...

You can't think properly, but you find yourself in his bathtub as he helps you bathe...

He's being unusually kind and soothing, and doesn't try to make conversation.

He says reassuring words to you, but it doesn't register.

None of this feels real...

As you drearily walk to his couch you feel both exhausted and defeated, he tucks you in and thanks you for saving him.

"Always."

You're angry at him, justifiably so, and you're having the worse day of your fucking life, but you'd save him again and again.

Always...

[astonmartinii]

it must be a sign | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem deaf! red bull engineer!reader

when the two most unbothered people in the paddock combine their joint powers to be the it couple

request sent by the lovely @bibissparkles xx

author's note: heyyy so many of you won't know but i am actually deaf - i am 50% deaf in both ears and wear hearing aids so i love requests like this! (all i do most of this stuff as a deaf person, turning off your hearing aids >)

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 302,446 others

yourusername: you can't complain about the dutch national anthem when you can just turn your hearing aids off

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user1: the way max's engineer is as sick of that damn song as us

user2: turning off her hearing aids makes how bored she looks during podiums make sense

yourusername: it was a banger during the mercedes dominance but would it kill someone to play the australian anthem

danielricciardo: i knew you missed me

yourusername: sure, jan.

user3: her and max signing slay to each other will always be so personal to me

maxverstappen1: gonna pretend you didn't just say that

yourusername: boo hoo babe, you gotta lose something sometimes

user4: babe? are the flowers from max?

maxverstappen1: would rather choke on my own spit and fall into a pit of snakes, hope this helps ❤️

yourusername: rude! i wouldn't want flowers from you either :(

user5: i swear we get into this argument every weekend, i think people will still assume they're together until their married to other people

liamlawson30: stop using me as a messenger pigeon please and thank you

yourusername: but i thought red bull gave you wings?

liamlawson30: do not use a pr answer against me 🤨

yourusername: no comment

liamlawson30: choke.

yourusername: idk what's going on in the red bull junior academy but spit in helmut's coffee not mine

user6: y/n consistently giving all the red bull guys shit is my favourite thing ever

user7: the amount of times the sky broadcast has caught her waving them off or taking her hearing aids out lol

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 782,309 others

oscarpiastri: switched four tyres for two this weekend

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user11: you can't distract us with your slutty bike pics WHO THE FUCK IS THAT

landonorris: A WOMAN? A WOMAN? IS THAT A WOMAN OSCAR JACK PIASTRI?

oscarpiastri: yeah i'm pretty sure

landonorris: don't play smart with me buster - why was i not informed?

oscarpiastri: i don't ask to be informed of every time you get rejected in the instagram dms

landonorris: FAKE NEWS

oscarpiastri: okay buddy

user12: i be seeing the sign language book, oscar you are so real for that

user13: that's my king, i need a oscar and y/n link up in the paddock - my unbothered queens

user14: she's in the likes !!!!!!

logansargent: oh we've entered the soft launch phase i see

oscarpiastri: and what?

logansargent: someone is feeling defensive this morning, dude i won't tell i've already kept it a secret for so long

landonorris: HE KNOWS? DOES BEING YOUR TEAMMATE MEAN NOTHING?

oscarpiastri: he's my childhood best friend?

logansargent: there's levels to this game norris

landonorris: @oscarpiastri consider yourself UNDER SURVEILLANCE

oscarpiastri: okay girly

user15: oscar has the patience of a saint, the mystery gal may want to rethink it before having to deal with them all

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 381,044 others

yourusername: unrelaxed, unbothered, moisturised ✨

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user18: queen SHIT THAT AIN'T SHIT

user19: but this mystery man IS

maxverstappen1: yeah sorry about that... but at least boyfy has made his instagram debut?

yourusername: about time, he's too sexy to gatekeep

maxverstappen1: well i'm not going to agree out of respect for you

yourusername: so you don't think he's sexy? i might not be able to hear but HE CAN MAX BE NICE

maxverstappen1: first of all it's a text, second of all i've been way too nice to him

yourusername: he beat you in padel fair and square you're just SHIT AT IT ❤️

maxverstappen1: you know that's a sore subject WHY WOULD YOU BRING IT UP

user20: my queen was really like you wanna tell me to fuck off? oh here's my sexy boyfriend

user21: jos verstappen really didn't know who he was tangling with that gal may be chill but she doesn't take shit

user22: she's like a female version of oscar lol

user23: i knew there was a reason i liked her

this comment was liked by yourusername

danielricciardo: why am i left out of everything these days?

yourusername: snooze you lose

danielricciardo: I AM AWAKE REPLY TO MY TEXTS

danielricciardo: I JUST SAW YOU PUT YOUR PHONE ON DO NOT DISTURB

yourusername: protecting my peace

danielricciardo: i'm on to you buster

oscarpiastri

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,455 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: overjoyed to get my first (proper) win in formula one and even more overjoyed to have my amazing girlfriend (and even better engineer) up on the podium with me

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user27: so this was the special occasion?

user28: so this is why she said she wanted the australian national anthem over the dutch one?

user29: this is now my roman empire

yourusername: babe is so fucking good and i'm so fucking proud

oscarpiastri: i'm so glad to have been able to share this moment with you

yourusername: you deserve this and more, i love you

oscarpiastri: i love you too xx

user30: wait so oscar knows so much more sign language than i thought

user31: he looked so excited and even mark knows some

logansargent: he forced (we were happy to do so) me, mark and his family to learn as soon as he secured the date lol

oscarpiastri: and now we're all so cool because of it

logansargent: cool and able to chat shit without people knowing what we're saying

yourusername: best bit about it tbf (everyone please learn, it's a beautiful language)

landonorris: I KNEW IT

oscarpiastri: no you didn't

landonorris: no i didn't :( i'm hurt

oscarpiastri: if it's any consolation, we didn't tell many people, max and logan are exceptions

landonorris: WHY WAS I NOT AN EXCEPTION???

yourusername: boo hoo

landonorris: i'm not gonna say anything back to that you kinda scare me

yourusername: good ❤️

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri and 529,778 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri

yourusername: me and a racewinner (and our world champion third wheel)

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user32: fave trio in the paddock no competition

logansargent: logan erasure

yourusername: we love you logan, sunday roast at mine this weekend ❤️

logansargent: SCORE

user33: every time you post there's a new plushie

yourusername: we usually get one to commemorate a big weekend and we both got one for osc's first win

user34: that's so FUCKING CUTE

oscarpiastri: it's all fun and games until you don't fit in the bed because y/n feels too bad to put any of them on the floor

yourusername: they have FEELINGS OSCAR

oscarpiastri: she cried one time when max set off the smoke alarm cooking breakfast and the bed alarm shook so bad that all of them were thrown to the floor

yourusername: it was HARROWING but it also did wake me up so at least we know it works

maxverstappen1: actually my favourite couple to third wheel, but enjoy it while it's here osc, i won't lose again

yourusername: yeah sorry osc it's actually my job to help max win so you're gonna have to wait for him to retire if i have anything to do with it

oscarpiastri: not even for me :(

yourusername: sorry not sorry (i'm really sorry, i love you so much)

oscarpiastri: i love you too even if you won't sabotage max for my race :(

maxverstappen1: okay i know i said you guys are cute but that's enough for today

yourusername: we ARE cute thank you

oscarpiastri: the CUTEST

fin.

note: heheheheh i hope you enjoyed this, i love requests like this xx also on the comment about the bed alarm i had one in uni halls and when the alarm went off that baby SHOOK it was kinda scary

[jaysgirlx]

"Need help sweetheart?" Bookstore Customer!Jason Todd helps you reach the books on the higher shelves. You were his favorite employee and he wanted to make your day easier. He'd been coming here for a while but you always forgot how tall he was and how good his body felt pressed against yours. You only knew how to mumble out a couple words because you didn't know what else to say to a man like that. "Uh sir, you don't need to-"

"Please call me anything but sir sweetheart, you know I'm not new here"

Bookstore Customer!Jason enjoyed teasing his favorite employee aka you of course. He teases you about working at the bookstore even though he's constantly there and he'll always be flirting with you even if you're working the counter that day. He knows he's holding up the line but he's a paying customer so he doesn't care.

"How's my favorite pretty girl doing?"

"M'tired today Jay, I can't handle your nonsense right now"

"Okay that was mean- wait, Jay? that's a first"

"Buy a book or get out Jason"

You could easily tell Jason liked classics and poetry but for some reason he was willing to read your favorites even if they were a smut-filled mess. One time, he backed you up into a corner, after reading one of those books you liked, "Hmm, you like this kind of shit baby? cause I can do all that to you and so much more"

Over time, you learned that Jason also likes to follow you to the store, whispering to you about all the things he could do to you if you'd let him. His hand is always on your hips, pressing his body fully into you. He knows you like it especially when you roll your hips into his when nobody's looking. He wishes you'd use your words and just say you were his but he knew he wasn't even close to getting that, at least not yet.

Jason tried to buy a new book every week, sometimes not even to read. He needed an excuse to be there since your boss has never been fond of him ever since he had caught him feeling you up near the back shelves once. He learned his lesso so now he purposefully buys the books you like, just so he can watch you ramble on and on about them without getting kicked out of the store.

Bookstore Customer!Jason thrived on the feeling he got from watching you go from being so nonchalant around him to the most talkative girl in the world. he wants you comfortable if he's going to fuck you. You find yourself shutting up one time because you thought you had bored him but he quickly gets rid of that thought for you, "Keep talking sweetheart, I'm just wondering how pretty your mouth would look with my cock stuffed down your throat"

"Jay I don't- I can't- I haven't-"

"Don't worry, you will and I'm sure you're a fast learner"

It wasn't that hard for you to notice that Jason got a little jealous when his brother Dick hits on you the first and last time he brings him to the bookstore. Dick easily chats you up and Jason watches the two become a bit too friendly for his liking but it wasn't his place to speak, "Now I see why my little brother brings home so many books"

"It's good he does, I like guys who read"

"I actually quite the fan of classic literature-"

"Oh shut up Dick"

Bookstore Customer!Jason had all your coworkers wondering if you'll ever let the poor guy hit. They weren't sure if Jason was interested in you or your body, regardless they couldn't ignore the smile you got whenever he walk in. Or the way you'd laugh at his dumb jokes. You had him on a leash and you didn't even know what to do with him. He's begging to take you out or just even spent a night with you. He didn't just want you, he needed you. "C'mon I promise to take care of you princess, I'll even take you to that little coffee shop in Bludhaven"

"Who told you about that?!"

"…Dick"

When he finally manages to convince you to let him kiss you, you're nervous as fuck. You thought this was just another one of his antics but no, this was real. He'd promised to stop hitting on you if you felt nothing and you should've know it was bad idea when you could hear your own heartbeat still your let his lips touch yours. It was such a bad idea because before you knew it, he's got you pushed up against the wall, leg parting your thighs with your hands gripping at his shirt. "Jay, more please" Suddenly after all this time, you're pleading for him. Oh how the tables have turned. You're begging for all he's got, and you know he has so much more to give.

"Just give me a moment baby, got be patient" Within a matter of minutes your pants are discarded on the floor, and your panties are still on but being pushed aside while two fingers are being pumped in and out of your pussy. He's got one hand on your hips holding you down while one of your legs is wrapped around his waist. "Didn't I tell you I could do some much for you baby?"

You nod quickly while he's sucking on your poor neck, that would definitely be red all tomorrow. you feel his teeth sink into your skin, not too hard but rough enough to leave a mark. "Now keep quiet, I don't want any of your coworkers hearing us back here" The next thing you know you're cumming on the boy's fingers and he wants you to do it again. and again. and possibly 50 more times if you're willing.

The next time Jason comes, he's holding what you think is flowers and you know he'll be your victim today.

"So I thought real flowers would be cheesy and you'd probably not want to take care of em, so my brothers taught me how to make these paper flowers and…here just take them"

"Wow, I'm getting hand-crafted flowers from THE Jason Todd? Someone must have a really big crush on me huh? Are those bandaids on your fingers? Want me to kiss your boo-boos? "

"Are you going to finally go out with me or do I have to make you cum-"

"Yes yes! Just do not finish that sentence out loud"

"You are soooooooooo in love me"

"Jay, get out"

[lxvvie]

Couples Shit with Simon Riley, Part 2:

Thinking Simon is asleep when he isn't. Or so he says. Case in point: Simon in all his cattiness made you his pillow. Your nails were working miracles scratching along his scalp which had him dozing off and lightly snoring. Or so you thought. You heard him grumble, "Why'd you stop, luvie?" when you moved your hand. He'll deny he was asleep, too, like the peepaw that he is.

To piggyback off the first point, Simon will sometimes quietly grab your hand and put it back on his head if you stop scratching his scalp. If you stop a second time, he will have experienced a betrayal man and cat were never supposed to know, and it's Affection Denied™ for the rest of the day lmao.

Texting each other when you're in two separate rooms because you don't feel like talking out loud. Sometimes, you'll text him some crazy shit that'll warrant him leaving the room he was in to silently judge you.

Absolutely loving to watch him shave in the morning because Simon is so sexy when he's concentrating, eyebrows furrowed, and those brown eyes staring intensely in the mirror.

You and Simon shit-talking each other in bed because you'll complain about being hot with the covers and cuddle pile you two have going on but never really doing anything to change it. You two actually can't get a good night's sleep without being up under the other.

Simon banning you from watching horror films because, for the hundredth bloody time, he didn't hear shit, love. He actually did and it was the neighbors but he can't be arsed to get out of bed.

Speaking of neighbors, it's you and Simon lying in bed, listening to the neighbors make sex and when it's done, Simon goes, "Mm. A new record," and he sounds so unimpressed which causes you to guffaw. Oh my fucking god—

Getting in the dog house with Simon because when your hands are cold, you stick them down in his pants to rest on his thighs because it's hilarious to see him jump and that's what he gets for not turning the heat up. Simon counterargues that he did turn it up. Three degrees.

Introducing Simon to the wonders of Spa Day at home because his skin needs some TLC. Simon looking like someone's stressed auntie with a ciggie dangling from his lips, wearing a really comfortable bathrobe you got him, and eye masks on.

You two treating it like the end of the world whenever one of y'all gets sick (Simon to a lesser extent) because how in the hell will you get your daily dose of affection?

Going all out and having a whole-ass reveal party for your newest edition to the family, Pup. You gave the boys shirts to wear in celebration. You wore Dad, Simon wore... Mom????, Kyle got Uncle, Soap got... Big Brother??? and Price got... Grandfather. Grand. Father. "Congrats, Cap'n." "Shut up."

Pranking Simon by calling him some random guy's name just to see his reaction. Simon stops what he's doing, judges you in Ghost, and goes, "Who the fuck is Anthony?" After that, it's on sight for Anthony. Whoever the fuck that is. Simon gets you back, though, and he's all, "Ask Anthony" "Oh? You love Anthony, too?" "Sorry sweetheart, Simon is taken. Better go to Anthony." Real funny, asshole.

Simon thinking you're about to go down on him. Not the way he thinks, though. You've situated yourself between his thighs, put his legs on your shoulders, and lower your head to... blow raspberries in his tummy. Like... whole-ass tunes. The disappointment on his face is immeasurable. But then you have him chuckling because you're fuckin' adorable looking up at him like that and your raspberries are ticklish.

[simjaexy]

𝙊𝙪𝙧 𝙇𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙎.𝙅

pairing — professor! sim jaeyun x (f) student! reader

synopsis — you always knew your professor was attractive, so it wasn’t new when girls would try to gain his attention. what you didn’t know though was that he only had his eyes on you. what comes as a friendly teacher-student relationship takes a turn when you find yourself thinking differently about him with your private lessons together.

genre — smut, angst

warnings — MINORS DNI!, lower case intended, four year age gap (jake is 22 and reader is 18), tons of jealousy, cursing, jake is obsessed with oblivious reader, dom! jaeyun x sub! reader, name calling (slut, whore, and etc.), (f) receiving, pussy eating, unprotected sex, cum eating, choking, multiple orgasms

w.c ⇀ 5.4k

a/n ⇀ i don’t know why but this was and on and off fic i was doing cause i didn’t really like but i’m glad i finally finished it. i can’t tell if this was good or not because i was stressing on how to put the ending so bear with me on that. reblog, like, comment, etc.! lmk if i missed any warnings! not proofread.

masterlist here

the first time you saw professor sim was during the orientation week. you were a freshman, nervous and excited about starting your journey in college. the campus was bustling with activity, and you were trying to find your way to the science building for your first lecture.

as you walked through the crowded hallway, you accidentally bumped into someone, "oh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, looking up to see a tall man with a kind smile.

"no worries at all," he replied, adjusting his glasses. "are you lost?"

"uh, yeah, actually. I'm trying to find the science building," you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"you're in luck. I'm heading there myself. i’m professor sim, by the way," he said, extending his hand.

you shook his hand, feeling a bit more at ease. "nice to meet you, professor sim. i’m l/n y/n.”

"well, y/n, follow me. i'll show you the way," he said, leading you through the maze of hallways. as you walked, you noticed his broad back through his suit. the suit fitting perfectly on him. you blushed watching him strut confidently past students and teachers watching him walk past.

you definitely won’t lie and say he’s not handsome. his glasses framing his face perfectly. you never knew you would like guys with glasses. he suddenly asked about your interests and what drew you to study science. his genuine interest in your answers made you feel welcome.

fast forward to the present, you were now in your second semester, and professor sim class had quickly become your favorite. his enthusiasm for science was infectious, and he had a knack for making even the most complex topics seem approachable. however, the latest homework assignment was proving to be a real challenge.

as you packed your notebooks and computer you saw a girl bluntly flirting with him. batting her eyelashes at him. it wasn’t new seeing different girls trying to talk to him, purposely saying they need help just to see him up close. you cleared your throat you gathered your courage and approached his desk. "professor sim, could I ask for some help with the homework? i’m really struggling with the concepts."

he looked up at you, a warm smile spreading across his face, completely ignoring the other girl in front of him. he probably knew what she was trying to do, "of course, i'd be happy to help. why don't you come by my office later this afternoon?"

the girl huffed at her non existence and walked away, leaving the both of you alone. you nodded, feeling a wave of relief.

later that day, you found yourself sitting across from him in his office. the room was filled with books and scientific models, and the faint smell of coffee lingered in the air.

"alright," he said, pulling up a chair next to you, "let's take a look at what you're having trouble with."

you pulled out your notebook, showing him the problems that had been giving you headaches. he patiently explained each step, breaking down the complex ideas into simpler terms. his explanations were clear and concise, and he used analogies that made the material more relatable.

"see? you're getting the hang of it," he encouraged, his eyes twinkling with pride. "sometimes all it takes is a different perspective."

as you worked through the problems together, you found yourself gaining a deeper understanding of the subject. you also couldn’t help but look at his side profile, his plump soft lips moving with passion for science was evident in every word he spoke, and it was impossible not to be inspired by his enthusiasm.

"thank you so much, professor jake," you said sincerely as you packed up your things. "i really appreciate your help."

"anytime, y/n. don't hesitate to reach out if you need more assistance," he replied with a smile.

you gave him another smile. you left his office feeling more confident and grateful for his guidance. professor sim had not only made the subject more accessible but had also shown you that with the right support, you could tackle even the toughest challenges.

over the next few weeks, you continued to visit his office for help, and each time, you left with a better understanding of the material. his encouragement and patience made all the difference, and you began to see science in a whole new light.

even though you guys only talked about science and just science, you couldn’t help but notice when sim would ask you questions outside of science. like ‘what do you think about your teachers?’ or ‘who’s your favorite teacher so far?’, and each time he’d ask, you would always say him.

one afternoon, as you were wrapping up another productive session, he asked, "so, y/n, have you thought about what you want to do after college?"

you paused, considering his question. it was new for him to ask that, "i'm not entirely sure yet. i know i want to do something in science, but I haven't decided on a specific path."

"that's perfectly fine," he said reassuringly. "you have plenty of time to figure it out. just remember to follow your passion and stay curious. the rest will fall into place."

you smiled, feeling a sense of reassurance, “thank you professor sim. i really appreciate that.”

you watch him push his hair back with a smile. you felt your heart skip a beat and immediately looked away, “i-i think i should get going. it’s getting pretty late.”

“you don’t need a ride do you? it’s pretty dark out since we practiced a bit longer than usual.” he reasoned. you thought for a moment. it is dark out and you don’t know who’s outside at this time. so, you nodded your head.

“great. i’ll tidy up before we go.” he said. you watched him put a few books away and tidying up his desk for tomorrow before grabbing his keys from his drawer. he then walked you to the door.

you both left the college and went to the parking lot. you felt yourself feeling nervous. it was your first time going with sim anywhere but his class. he went to a mercedes car making you hum in acknowledgement.

he chuckled at your reaction, “like it?” he teased. you nodded your head and giggled.

“i don’t really know cars that well, but i just know this one is expensive.” you said. his laugh causing a stir in your stomach.

you both entered the car and buckled up. he backed from the parking lot, “do you live on campus or somewhere else?” he asked.

“i live on campus, but the other one.” you spoke.

“you live pretty far? you walk here?” he murmured. he gazed at you curiously.

you chuckled, “it’s a good walk. i wake up a bit earlier so i’m not late for your class.”

he smiled at you, “if i would’ve known you go that far i’d spare you.” you shook your head and smiled back.

the car ride was silent, you let out a sigh and lay your head on the window. the past few days you haven’t been getting much sleep. you felt your eyes get a bit heavy.

“tired?” sim questioned. you opened your eyes back up and nodded.

“a little. sorry, haven’t really got much sleep. i’ve been so stressed out that i couldn’t sleep.” you joked, but it wasn’t really a joke.

sim hummed, he understood how tiring college could be, “you can take a nap. i mean if you want too. i’ll wake you up when we’re at the campus.” he said.

you smiled gratefully. soon your eyes became heavy and that’s when you fell asleep. your soft breathing soon filling the silence.

jake looked at your sleeping figure. you really were the prettiest student he’s ever seen. he knows it’s wrong to think of you like that. you’re supposed to be just a student to him, but he can’t help but think of something more.

your smile that makes him feel a type of way inside. your pretty laugh that he can’t help but adore. those thoughts were just something he thought weren’t bad, but his other thoughts were a bit more mature.

the way your outfits fit your body perfectly. your breast sitting perfectly in your bra, jiggling when you walk towards him. it’s hard for him not to get rock hard and stare. your fingers so pretty to him that he wonders if they're just as pretty inside your pussy. your glossy lips so pretty when they pout, he wonders what they would feel like around his dick. he just knows they’d stretch so pretty.

he soon parks the car in front of the campus. he shakes you softly, “y/n. we’re here.”

you groaned and turned away from him. he tried shaking you awake again, but you didn’t budge. he sighed and looked around. maybe he could just pick you up and take you to your dorm. that wouldn’t be weird right?

he got off his car and went to your side, opening the car door. he grabbed your backpack and slung it over his shoulder. he unbuckled your seatbelt and picked you up swiftly. he was hoping no one was awake at this time. he opened the door with his free hand and entered the building.

as soon as he unlocked your door he set you down on your bed with your bag on the chair. he couldn’t help but curiously look around. your room filled with collage photos of you and your friends. there was a photo of you and your parents. he slowly picked up the photo and smiled. you looked happy unlike the times you were in the halls.

he set it back down and was about to head out until he heard you making a noise, “sim please. down there.” you moaned out.

jake paused his walking and looked back at you. you were still sleeping, but your breathing started to become uneven and heavy. wait, were you having a dream about him?

he slowly prodded towards you and slightly shook you. you really were a deep sleeper. just then you let out another noise. it sounded like a whimper.

“fuck me sim.” you whispered.

what. the. fuck.

jake nearly choked on his spit. there was no way you talk this clearly in your sleep. were you joking with him? his breathing became unsteady with the uncomfortable feeling between his legs. he cursed at himself for still standing here and quickly left. locking the door on the way out.

he would just pretend he never heard you.

he couldn’t pretend. the whole day he was thinking about what you said last night. with him having to solve his little problem himself. you acted normally the way you did. you remembered he took you back to your campus cause you thanked him first thing when you saw him. if only he didn’t make it seem awkward.

you on the other hand was confused why professor sim was acting strange. were you snoring really loud in his car? you really hoped you didn’t.

as class came to an end, you packed your stuff. as you were packing you couldn’t help but look over at professor sim. your eyes went wide when you saw him talking to another female teacher. you didn’t even notice she came in.

they seem to be chatting about something funny cause sim was laughing a lot to what she was saying. you felt a weird feeling in your chest that you couldn’t describes. was it jealousy?

you sighed and put your bag over your shoulder and left the class without sparing another look. as you were walking you suddenly heard your name being called. you turn around expecting a specific person, but you saw that it was riki.

you gave him a fake smile, “hey riki.” you said. riki smiled once he caught up to you.

“are you okay? i tried texting you last night but you didn’t answer.” he asked. you pushed your hair behind your ear suddenly remembering last night again.

“o-oh i came home pretty early and fell asleep. did you need to talk about something?” you spoke.

riki nodded, “actually i was gonna talk to you about the project-“ “y/n.”

your eyebrows furrowed and looked behind riki, only to see none other than professor sim. he came closer to you guys, “you guys should head to class or you’ll be late, especially you mr. nishimura.”

the tone in professor sim kinda intimidated you. his voice bitter and sharp towards riki. riki nervously nodded his head and gave you a tight smile before walking past you. you looked at professor sim only to see him looking at you.

“did you need something professor sim?” you mumbled, feeling small under his strong gaze.

“don’t waste your time talking to guys and focus on your classes.” he suddenly said. his voice coming more harsh than he intended. your eyebrows furrowed felling a bit offended.

“excuse me?” you said “you should know i don’t waste my time on guys. riki isn’t just any guy, he’s my friend.”

before jake could say something you walked away. jake sighed and pushed his hair back. he didn’t mean to come out like that. he couldn’t shake that feeling of jealousy when he saw how close riki was to you. he’d have to apologize later.

you sighed when your last class finally finished. you were supposed to have your tutoring lesson with sim, but after that incident you don’t think you could go. you’ll just email him saying you’re sick. you left the college and walked to your campus.

you listened to a few playlists while walking. the cool breeze with the sunny sky made you feel relaxed. once you came to your campus you said hi to the lady up front and went to your room. you set your bag on the floor and sighed. a shower sounds good. before you went in the shower you emailed sim about your canc and shut your computer.

you took a quick shower and finished up. you wrapped a robe around your body and dried your hair with a towel, but before you could grab your phone you heard a knock at your door. you frowned, nobody barely knocks on your door, so who could it be. you opened the door and your eyes widened in surprise. it was sim.

“professor sim? what are you-“ “are you that mad at me?” he cut you off. you closed your mouth. is that why he came all the way here?

“professor sim im not mad-“ “so why are you ignoring me?” he said. you didn’t know it mattered that much to him.

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to cancel last minute.” you said. maybe that’s why he was upset. he doesn’t like when people cancel stuff last minute. he shook his head.

“i’m not mad if that’s what you’re thinking. i’m asking if you’re mad about what i did earlier.” he admitted. oh. that’s what he was talking about. to be honest you don’t know if you were really mad anymore. so, you shook your head.

“it’s okay. i’m sorry for being rude.” you muttered.

“i should say sorry too. i know you don’t do any of those things. i was just in a bad mood.” he said. was he really in a bad mood if he was talking to that female teacher happily?

you gave him a fake smile, “it’s okay professor sim. was that all you came here for.”

just as he was about to say something, he averted his gaze down and noticed you were in a robe. he felt his face burning and looked back up at you, “o-oh i’m sorry. did i interrupt your bathing time?” he stuttered.

“huh?”

you looked down and also noticed you were still in your robe. you gasped and moved the door in front of you, “i’m sorry!”

he tried shaking his head, but you just kept apologizing, “no it’s fine really! it’s my fault.”

you stopped apologizing and stared at him, awkwardness filling the air. he cleared his throat and looked back at you, “i-i’ll get going-“

“wait. i know this might sound weird, but do you wanna come in for a moment? we can do the lesson here if you're still up for it.” you thought. jake pondered for a moment before nodding.

you got done getting dress in your bathroom and came out. you saw sim sitting on the floor with textbooks on the wooden table you had in the middle of your room. he was looking around your room before staring at you.

you smiled at him and sat next to him, “we can start where we left off yesterday if that’s fine.” you said. he nodded and flipped the page to where you guys left off.

as you he taught you easy ways to get the answer, you felt yourself getting distracted once again by his visuals. you didn’t know what you were feeling at this point, it was a feeling you hated, but wanted to know more about. all of a sudden sim looked at you. you felt your breath get caught in your throat. he was staring at you with a questionable linger in his eyes. you felt his breath against your face. you guys were so close that if you moved a step your lips would touch.

“sim-“ “push me away if you don’t want this.” was all he said when you suddenly felt lips on yours.

you gasped and held tightly on his shirt. his lips molding against yours perfectly. you moaned when you felt his hand grip your ass, making him have access to enter his tongue. you felt your room getting hot as you lay on the ground with sim on top of you.

you took off his jacket while he helped you take it off without breaking the kiss. the dim lighting of your fairy lights making it seem darker than usual. he took off your shorts, only leaving your underwear on. he kissed and sucked along your jawline to your chest, kissing it gently. the sexual tension you guys had finally snapping in him. he lifted your shirt up and unclasped your bra. you felt the cold air hit your nipples and made a noise.

he smirked against your chest before gripping one breast and sucking the other. you let out a moan and gripped his locks. he groaned and pinched your nipple making you jerk.

“sim.” you whimpered. he looked up at you and departed from your breast.

he started unbuttoning his long sleeve button up, “call me jake.” he said. you bit your lip when you finally saw his toned body. god if you would’ve known he had that body under his suit you would’ve made a move sooner.

he leaned back down and kissed you gently, biting your lip making you sigh. you felt his right hand slowly going down until it made contact with your cloth pussy. you threw your head back when you suddenly felt him rub your folds up and down.

he dipped his hand in a second later and confused rubbing your folds, “fuck you’re so wet.” he murmured.

you nodded and kissed him again. both of your lips swollen. you wouldn’t want it any other way though. he took his fingers away and put them in his mouth. you watched intensely as he smirked at you. he got up and lifted you up bridal style before putting you on your bed. he unbuckled his pants and pulled them down revealing his boxers.

you gasp at the outline of his dick. you know it’s big. he got on top of you again and slid down your underwear. you felt yourself blushing with how he stared. you felt the urge to close your legs but before you could jake dipped his head down to your pussy.

“j-jake wait.” you moaned when you suddenly felt his hot tongue lick your folds.

he groaned as you gripped his hair again. he licked your folds again but this time he sucked on your clit. you thrash around at the new feeling as your eyes rolled back.

the sound of wet slurping noises was the only thing heard in your room. jake couldn’t get enough of your pussy. he was a completely pussy drunk man at this moment. your sweet juices leaking out, he knows you love it just as much as he does.

you felt a tight feeling in your pussy and patted his head, “j-jake m’gonna cum!” you cried out. he didn’t stop making you feel your climax coming. you let out one last moan before your orgasm finally hit. your legs shaking on the side of his head. he drummed up your cum like he was a dehydrated man.

you panted harshly and whined when he finally pulled away. he licked the rest on his chin, “fuck, you taste so good.” he says. he pulls his boxers down and that’s when you finally saw his dick. it was veiny and hard, precum at the tip.

“do you need to be prepped?” he said. you shook your head. you needed his dick in you now.

he positioned himself at your entrance before slowly pushing in. he groaned while you whimpered and held him tightly. he hissed when he felt you scratching at his back. slowly, he backed up and pushed back in so you could get used to the feeling.

a few minutes later you felt a pleasure tingling in your body, “j-jake faster. please.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. he started going at a faster pace and that’s when you were out of it. his tip hitting your g-spot.

“yes! right there! oh fuck!” you cried out. the sound of skin slapping, panting, and bed creaking was heard. you had a feeling people could hear you, but you could care less. especially with the way jake was fucking you.

he gripped your neck with a free hand, “such a little whore for dick. gonna be a good bitch for me?” he rasped out. you nodded your head frantically.

he felt you squeeze his dick and moaned. your pussy was a match made in heaven just for him.

you felt another orgasm coming and arched your back. he gripped your hips and snapped his hips harder. your orgasm hit you hard and you saw white. jake snapped his hips three more times before pulling his dick out, stroking himself on your stomach before cumming.

both of you panted uneven and hard. he got off your bed and grabbed the towel you used for your hair and wiped your stomach and wiped your pussy. you whined from sensitivity.

he grabbed another pair of pajamas for you and helped your put them on.

he put the towel in your dirty basket and went back to you, pushing your hair back, “i should get going.” he said.

you pouted, “do you have to leave?”

jake hated that he did, but he can’t get caught with his own student, “it’s for the better. you’ll see me tomorrow.”

you finally nodded your head. he covered you with your blanket and kissed your head, “goodnight beautiful.” he whispered. you soon dozed off into dreamland.

jake got dressed and looked at you one last time before shutting your door with a soft click.

you groaned feeling an ach in your body. you got up and went to your bathroom. you looked at yourself in the mirror and gasped. your neck was covered in hickeys from your neck to your chest. you traced your fingers along them and slowly smiled.

you took another shower and got dressed for the day. you out on a crew neck to cover your hickeys. good thing it was cold out today.

you soon got to the campus and entered your class to see jake already there typing on his computer. he didn’t notice you so you decided to sit down at your seat. once the bell ring he looked up from his computer and spotted you. he gave you a knowing grin before standing up, getting ready for the lecture.

“alright guys, did you finish the homework from yesterday?” he chimed. students began taking out their notes and handed them in. you turned yours in too. jake continued his lecture until the bell rang. students left the class while you waited until everyone left.

you went up to his desk and gave him a smile. he got up and gave you a hug. you giggled and stuffed your face in his neck.

“your not hurt anywhere are you?” he asked. you shook your head. he sighed in relief before letting you go.

“same time at my place?” you said. jake chuckled and quickly pecked your lips.

“i can’t today. i have a meeting to attend.” he spoke. you pouted, but understood.

“okay. i’ll see you later though right?” you said. he chuckled at your urgent question and nodded.

“of course you will beautiful.” he replied. you smiled cheerfully before leaving his class so he could attend his meeting.

over the next few days it would be the same. jake would come over to your dorm and would spend time with you, either having loving sex or just spending time together. everything was going just the way you wanted it too. until an incident happened.

rumors started to spread around campus. whispers of favoritism and inappropriate relationships between you and professor sim filled the halls. despite your best efforts to ignore them, the pressure was mounting.

one evening, after a particularly stressful day, jake asked to meet you in his office.

you opened the door to his office to see him already there in deep thought. you let out a gulp before going towards him, “jake?”

he looked up at you, but it wasn’t with the same loving look he usually gave you. “y/n, we need to talk," he began, his voice heavy with emotion. "i think we should stop what we’re doing. what we had was nothing but satisfaction we wanted to get off our chests.”

your heart sank, where was he coming from with this? satisfaction? getting it off our chest? you couldn’t help but feel tears pricking your eyes, “w-what do you mean? don’t you love me?”

jake stared at you as if you were just a regular person to him, “y/n, what we had wasn’t love. you were just a way to relive my stress. whatever you thought we had ends here. you may be dismissed.”

the lack of emotions in his voice finally made your tears fall freely.

you let out a sob, “i hate you! don’t ever talk to me again!” you screamed out before leaving his room, slamming the door shut.

weeks went by, and the pain of the breakup lingered. you threw yourself into your studies, trying to keep your mind off jake. even though you had him first period and he was your professor, you made a good route on ignoring him. none of it was easy, but you found solace in your friend, riki, who had always been there for you. his presence was comforting, and slowly, you began to smile again.

“are you gonna have that?” riki asked. you rolled your eyes at him before smiling. you gave him your cookie which he happily accepted.

you both were currently waiting at a bus station. after riki found out you walk a long way to the college, he insisted on paying for your bus rides as long as he gets to go with you.

“it’s way too cold out today.” you commented. riki nodded his head as he munched on the cookie. you shivered when a gust of wind blew at you guys. riki noticed your freezing state.

“come closer to me.” he said. you scooted a bit closer to him and lay your head on his shoulder. you sighed at somewhat of a closer warm feeling. as you guys continued waiting you saw a familiar car stopping in front of you guys. your eyes widened when the driver door suddenly opened revealing jake.

before you could think, jake yanked your wrist and pulled you away from riki. you yelped and tried taking your wrist away from him.

“what the hell are you doing?” you snapped at him. riki got up and tried to help you but jake stopped him.

“get the hell away or you’ll regret it.” he gritted his teeth. riki stopped and looked at you worriedly. you shook your head at him not to come any further. jake took you to his car, opening the passenger door and setting you inside. he slammed it shut before going to the drivers seat and entering.

you silently watched him start the car, leaving riki in the cold. you felt guilty and angry and looked at jake, “let me go jake! i wanna be with riki!” you yelled.

jake ignored you. you scoffed, “jake seriously. let me go!”

“stop talking or i’ll find a way to make you.” he said. you immediately stopped ranting and stared at him. you decided to stay silent. you knew you couldn’t fight him when it came to this.

in all honesty jake never felt so jealous before until now. you were so close to riki that something inside him snapped. at first he was gonna let it go since he’s the one that initiated the end to your relationship, but he saw a spark in your eyes that he hadn't seen in a while.

a pang of regret hit him hard. he realized that letting you go was a mistake. the rumors and the pressure seemed insignificant compared to the happiness he saw in your eyes.

you arrived at a building. you assumed it was an apartment building. jake opened your door when he came out. you stepped out when he grabbed your wrist and took you inside.

when you finally got to a room he unlocked it with a pin and entered it. the first thing you saw was shelves lined with scientific journals and textbooks, a whiteboard covered in equations and diagrams, but amidst all the science, there was also a comfy reading nook with a big, plush armchair and a collection of classic novels. you noticed how he had a nice window view of the city night. now that you thought of it, it was your first time at his place.

“you can take your jacket off.” he said. slowly, you took off your jacket. he grabbed it and settled it on a rack.

you stood there awkwardly and waited for his next move. he extended his hand out for you to grab. you took it as he walked you to the couch, “i’ll go get us some drinks.”

you sat down on the couch and waited. you didn’t know what to talk about to him. he came back with a drink and handed it to you. you grabbed it and took a small sip. he sat down next to you and that’s when he made he contact with you, but this time he had that same old look he gave you back then.

"y/n, I made a mistake," he confessed. "seeing you with riki made me realize how much i miss you. i thought i was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. can you ever forgive me?"

you took a deep breath, the memories of your time together flooding back. you wanted to just drop everything and forgive him, but you knew it’s best to face reality.

“professor sim-“ “jake.” he cut you off.

you sighed, “jake, i forgive you, but i don’t think we can go back to the way it was. what you said really did hurt me that i couldn’t even eat or sleep. i don’t wanna go that same route again.”

jake looked at you regretfully. you just wanted to hug him and hold him forever. he stared down, “i understand. i don’t blame you at all. i really did fuck it up cause i was a coward.” he admitted.

“you’re not a coward jake. you just didn’t wanna lose your job.”

“but i lost you instead.” he said. now it was your turn to stare down. jake slowly lifted your head up with his hand under your chin.

"I promise y/n, i’ll do anything to get you back." he promised.

you gave him a smile. you know it’ll take time to work things out, but you knew if you did it together, nothing would stop you guys from being with each other. so, you cupped your hand on his and gave him a reassuring smile.

“i’m counting you on that sim jake. and if you do get me back, it can be our little secret.”

[starboye]

starring: santa claus x male reader

request: SO. Santa is visiting a young man, the reader, who is actually at the top of the nice list this year. Santa comes down the chimney and, instead of cookies and milk, finds the reader fucking himself with a candy cane, looking at naughty drawings of the very St. Nick himself! Clearly, the reader deserves to be on the naughty list. Unfortunately, Santa didn’t bring any coal! Surely, a day long, brutal plowing from his Saint Nick Dick will be enough punishment, right?

warnings: smut, cursing, really rough sex, fucking yourself with a candy cane

christmas, the best time and the time to get present for the great old saint nick (if you believe in that kind of thing) and what do you know it seems you were a good boy this year so you're the first stop of the night getting a visit from santa.

as long as this has been going on the old man expected to find some cookies and milk out like any other year or even a note bit instead he reaches the end of the chimney and finds you fucking yourself with a candy cane "oh dear what is this all about" santa asks, eyes darting around what sound be a very good boy but it seems only a naughty one lives here.

"santa i wasn't expecting you" you moan, the delicious treat plunging deeper and deeper into you, this isn't right naughty boys deserve all the coal in the world but uh oh it seems he forgot it in his sleigh and he's getting hard in his jeans so what other pusnishment could he choose.

walking over to you and standing above you with a mean look written over his face "why don't you pleasure yourself with something more real" santa says pulling his pants down to reveal his thick cock and you jump at the offer, wrapping you hand around it and sinking your mouth onto it, not being able to get it all in you just stroked the rest with your shaking hand.

"no need to be nervous boy, santas gonna take real good care of you tonight" the old man says before grabbing both sides of your head and fucking your mouth roughly with no remorse more the gagging sounds you make, a bunch of obscenities leaving his mouth as you took him in your throat.

"turn around boy" he orders pulling out from your mouth and stroking his cock to the juicy sight of your plump ass, it just looked so fuckable and fucked is what he did, plowing your hole open nice and wide with his long cock, calling you such a nasty boy for being a slut to the joy bringer of december "what is mrs.claus not putting out enough" you joke earning a stinging slap from the big man, a red mark being left on your skin which probably wont go away for another months or so.

"shut up boy before you cant walk for a month" he threatens but like doesn't that sound like such a good time, so you continue to hurl jokes at him just enough to where he fucks you so hard your hole feels like it's being ripped apart, he did this all night, making sure you understood the consequences of being naughty.

fucking you until you passed out, waking up the next morning sore and unable to fully move but finding a letter from the man himself saying "i hope to see you next year the same way i left you" and maybe this isn't a bad thing, i mean getting fucked by santa is better than any present i've ever gotten.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[meidiary]

( 📁 ) THEM ACTING OVERLY JEALOUS

synopsis: the monster trio and how they act when they're way too jealous for their own good...

characters: luffy, sanji & zoro!

warnings: a teeny tinyyy amount of swearing [:

a/n: first time writing for them so i'm pretty nervous!!! , hope you enjoy!! banner is made by me, inspired by the lovely @sixosix and the layout is inspired by the lovely @luckyscribbles <3

it was his fault! it really was.. he was the sole reason you were entertaining this way too confident guy- because he told you that he was out of your league! can you believe that?! and now ZORO is throwing daggers at the poor man just with his piercing gaze alone..

ignoring zoro's needy angry glares he's sending you two, you continue charming your ... acquauntance, growing his already far too stretched ego. "oh darling, how i could melt in those beautiful emerald colored eyes of yours~" and with that sanji cringe-worthy comment you got him babbling on about himself... again.

you're getting progressively more annoyed the longer you hear him try to flirt with you. nonetheless you don't move an inch, because you know he's watching your every move; waiting for you to come moping to him about the guy. he'd feel a sense pride because you came back to him. and that pride, the face he makes whenever he turns out to be right about something, albeit it's a very handsome one, is the last thing you want to witness right now.

so you keep yourself from throwing this guy's drink in his face and telling him his cologne is absolutely murdering your sense of smelling.

you look up as you suddenly stop hearing the random guy talk about some castle garden of his. he gulps hesistantly whilst zoro stands before you, hands in his pockets. "we're leaving." no you're not! "oh zoro~ i barely-" "now." you stand up and turn to leave, but quickly turn back around and give the stranger a kiss on his cheek before leaving with zoro, causing his cheeks to change to a red-shade.

"miss! will i ever see you again?!" he asks before backing up seeing zoro's death glare. "my love, if we are meant to be we will definitely meet again!" what's up with you and these shakespear lines?

zoro gives you a slight shove with his shoulder as he rolld his eyes for what seems like the millionth time this hour. "i think i found my soulmate zoro!" you sang while you interlocked you arm with his. you were met with yet another eye-roll.

"you were the one that said he's out of my league, remember?" zoro huffs annoyed. "shit- that was a joke damn it!" "if anything you're out of his fucking league, dumbass" you lean onto him as you two continue making your way back to the going merry.

"maybe i exaggerated a bit too.." you slowly admit before hearing his usual chuckle. "just don't go flirting with some stranger again, ever. shit could've gone wrong real fast y'know?" you smile sheepishly and nod. "good thing you were there huh?"

and you could've sworn you say his cheeks turn into a rose color before he swiftly turned his head to the side, greeting sanji and nami. was he blushing..?

SANJI was this close.. this close to absolutely losing it and slicing this daring man up with zoro's swords. who does he think he is? flirtingly, charmingly speaking with his lover?! well truth be told.. you two weren't official, far from it actually;

you two were so close to finally having the months-due talk about the classic, what are we-question. but of course sanji had to hit on the waitress that casually passed your table. that was your final straw. if he couldn't stop his antics for one night, you would resume yours for good.

and oh how it made him clench his fists so hard they became white, how it made him ignore all the beautiful ladies surrounding him, for what felt like the first time ever, how he saw you with your pretty dress on, that he bought for you because it reminded him of you, sat on some navy's lap, entertaining the bastard not worhty of a single enchanting smile of yours. yet there you were smiling, no laughing at something the navy said, all while you were supposed to be with sanji. laughing at something he said, playing with his hair, sat on his lap.

he was this close to exploding and increasing his bounty a good amount by punching this navy untill his fists fell off. "sanji, don't you fucking dare." nami warned him, glaring at him from the other side of the table, not in the mood to be on the run again after finally being able to relax for a day.

sanji heard nami, he did! but the minute he saw the disgusting navy's hand run up your thigh causing you to jump off of him, he finally lost it. "keep your fucking hands off her you sewer rat!" he jumped up sprinting at the navy, his snow-white fists ready to release all the pent up anger he held.

but before sanji got to the navy he was stopped by you. your soft, slightly cold hands holding back one of his clenched fists. causing him to slowly unclench it. you tried to push sanji back, knowing his uproar would bring about another navy chasing. "you alright, love?" it's as if all his previous anger vanished the moment he felt your soft touch, smelled you sweet perfume, the moment you felt like his again. "y-yeah i'm good.. but we should get goi-"

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!" the navy man roared causing the others to swiftly join the yelling. "hey aren't those those strawhat pirates with a bounty?!" from the other side of the room it felt like you could hear nami's long sigh. "see what you've done?! grab zoro, usopp and i will take luffy!" everyone complied and assumed their role.

sanji lifted his leg up ready to kick zoro awake right before you pushed him slightly making him stand on two feet again. "not doing that sanji!" he playfully rolls his eyes at your statement.

waking up zoro and running to the ship in a hurry, with a good 3 dozen navy soldiers running behind you calling you names, was the usual. but what surprised you was sanji holding your hand tightly the whole way, not letting go for a second.

once on the ship, back to sailing on the waters, while everyone was catching their breath, sanji took you aside, he interlocked your hands with his while he locked your gazes, still breathless he looks at you earnestly. his eyes illuminating the moon's glow. "i'll stop the flirting my darling, i promise. the only woman i'll charm will be you.. so you better not grow tired of it." he chuckled still a little breathless. you smiled, leaning your body onto his. "you better sanji.."

"i'm all yours sweetheart. all yours"

LUFFY felt weird. he had never met this man before, yet he suddenly has the urge to gum gum bazooka him for the rest of the day. why is he feeling this way right now? is it because he hadn't eaten yet? no that can't be it.. he just had a very good meal with you; you two had split up from the rest of the crew to have your lunch at some fancy looking restaurant on the beach.

luffy furrows his eyebrows once again because of this feeling. he figures, after a while to be completely honest, that the reason he wants to kick this man off the island is that he's taking way too long speaking with you. he's been occupying you for a good 10 minutes now.

how could he? how did he dare to take you from him so carelessly? you two were enjoying your meals, yes you were chatting about the dumbest subjects known to the world, but you were enjoying it. and then some buff man comes and dares to ask you for directions?! it would've been fine if he had left after receiving them, but no, he had to keep talking to you!

luffy was starting to see red at this point. he gets it he does, you're a beautiful woman, you're smart yet very funny, energetic and enjoyable! but you're his. even though you don't know that, even though he never told you that, you are his. and no buff, tall, slick back haired guy was going to change that one bit.

luffy dropped his food and started to walk towards the two of you, angrily eyeing the bold man who was about to get bazooka-d to some far-away island. luffy started stretching his arms, getting ready to send him off.

you notice right away and block luffy's path to the man. trying to laugh it off, you said your goodbyes to the fella and dragged luffy back to the restaurant. "what were you thinking, luff! that could've ended up horribly!" you whisper-yelled, not wanting to attract any more unwanted gazes.

"he took you from me for 10 minutes! how was I supposed to endure any longer!" luffy childishly pouts as he resumes eating. "you could've just said so! no need to bazooka anyone anywhere luf'!" his furrowed eyebrows soften as he hears his nickname.

the first time you called him that he truly hated it. "it sounds like a dog's name!" he complained. but over time, that nickname became apart of him, it was apart of his daily routine; he'd wake up to it, adventure the world with it, buy groceries with it, hear scolds with it. he became one with that silly nickname you gave him, and he wouldn't give that three-letter name up for the world. he wouldn't be able to go a day anymore without hearing you talking about how "the seashells here are so pretty luf'!", or how "i just love it when it's only you and i, luf'," and let's not forget you waking him up with the usual "luf'! sanji finished breakfast, get up already!".

"you can't go off with weird men. i won't let you.. you shouldn't leave my side for some guy that doesn't even know where he's headed!" you chuckle at his remarks. "i wouldn't leave you for anyone luf'! just.. don't bazooka someone next time.. just talk to me."

"you're mine y'know.." luffy tells you while he's munching on some of his cold meat. your eyes widen at his sudden words. "w-what?" "i said you're mine!" he says louder, a little annoyed thinking you hadn't heard him the first time. "you never said that before.."

"never needed to," he takes another bite. "but you are, so don't forget that!" he furrows his eyebrows again while saying that earning a chuckle from you. "i won't.. don't you worry"

NOTE: and that's for my first one piece ficcccc!!!

[megamindsecretlair]

Make Me Weak, Part 3

Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sexual issues. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.

Summary: Your third session with Dr. Richmond gets more intense as he finally figures out how best to help you. He makes you dig deeper and uncover uncomfortable truths about yourself.

Word Count: 4,751k

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3 Link

A/N: Alright now, I'm feeling a smidge bullied about this series. I am very thankful that ya'll love my series and while I know that it's out of love, I have a squirrel brain and bad noodle days. I would never want to put out a subpar fic. So the best way to encourage me is tell me what you liked about the fic! I have a praise kink, babes. I had TOO much fun writing this and you will not hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this one. However, I must tag to keep my taglist updated. Forgive me, my loves. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

Terry

Terry sat in the office breakroom stirring his tea while it steeped. He had your file spread out on the small round table as he went over it one last time before your appointment today. Though, it remained a mystery if you’d actually show.

For the past week, he had been pouring over your file backwards and forwards trying to glean what you weren’t saying. What you were holding yourself back from saying. He didn’t usually like to bad mouth his professional colleagues, but their notes were sloppy; and that was putting it mildly. 

Terry rolled the tea bag around the spoon to squeeze excess water out and then placed it on the napkin beside his mug. He sighed and stretched, stuck too long already in one position. 

It was clear that he couldn’t bully you into opening up. That wasn’t what you needed. You were already on the precipice. So much of your insights were spot on. You didn’t really need him, but you needed a guide. Someone to mentor you or mold you…no, that wasn’t it.

Terry scratched out the word on the notebook he started for you. It’s not molding you, you already have a strong foundation. You weren’t putty for someone to play with. You were more resilient, more open, more determined. 

So if not mold…Terry rubbed his short goatee and adjusted himself on the orange plastic chair. He thought a change of scenery would help give him an attack plan. A way to approach your next session, but he was at a loss. He was uncomfortable in these cheap ass seats, for starters. And the ideas weren’t coming in the quiet, rigidly styled break room.

It was like playing wack-a-mole with you. Every method he thought of, you shot down. Every time he thought he had a way into that pretty head of yours, you switched gears. It was challenging and frustrating and exciting as hell. 

His pen hovered over the notebook, full of crossed out words and methodologies he could try. And for the first time in a long while, his mind was blank. He had nothing. How did he combat nine therapists and a woman hell-bent on doing everything herself? 

“Hey, Dr. Richmond! Funny seeing you here!” Dr. Crawford waltzed into the breakroom and opened the nearest teak cabinet. He pulled down a mug that proclaimed him as the best dad ever and he hummed to himself as he poured himself some coffee. 

Terry eyed the older man with a bushy mustache but a “dad” demeanor. He treated everyone kindly and he came highly recommended for good reason. He seemed to zero in on everyone’s problems like he had a nose for it. 

“Dr. Crawford. I’d actually like your help with something,” Terry said.

“Me? Oh, cool. Cool,” Dr. Crawford paused as if he were a deer caught in headlights. Regaining himself, he patted down his army green button up and approached Terry’s table. 

Terry flipped your file closed and made more space for Dr. Crawford. The older man sat down with a quiet huff and sipped loudly at his coffee. Terry hoped his face didn’t reveal his disgust, but the man was a good guy. Just a bit odd. 

“What’s on your mind?” Dr. Crawford asked, placing his mug down on the table. 

Terry rubbed his hands while he thought over how to approach his question without coming off like a creep. His feelings for you were strictly professional. Okay, maybe not strictly but Crawford didn’t need to know that.

“I have a female patient, difficulty achieving climax, well-researched, with issues with control. We’ve had two sessions so far and usually I’d wait for more data, but at the moment, she’s been through nine therapists,” Terry said.

“Nine?” Dr. Crawford asked.

Terry smirked and nodded. “Nine. She’s committed to the process and seems willing to try new things, but I’m concerned that I can’t find my baseline with her. She’s been through so many therapists, she’s done copious research on her own, like…how do I compete with that?” Terry asked. 

Dr. Crawford took a few sips of his mug and stared out of the windows towards the cityscape. “Nine therapists, you say? And no one’s helped her?” Dr. Crawford’s bushy mustache moved with his frown. 

Terry fought off a smile. Dr. Crawford hadn’t even met you and he was reaching conclusions faster than Terry. Nine therapists was a lot for anyone to not find any kind of solution. 

“I ask probing questions, I’ve given her some things to think over, but it’s only going to work if she’s willing to do all of it,” he said. 

“My advice? Start from the beginning. Find a way for her to trust you. If she’s been through nine therapists, I imagine they’ve done everything under the sun already. And if she’s as well-read as you say, you better come up with something better before she’s on to number eleven,” Dr. Crawford said. 

Terry chuckled. “Right, because she’s done it all, said it all…”

“And yet no one’s gotten to the core of the issue. You can talk solutions all day long but if you don’t know what the hell you’re treating, you’re just wasting her time,” Dr. Crawford said and knocked on the table. “It’s not competing against the others. It’s erasing them completely.”

Terry mulled that over as he took some notes. He liked that. It wasn’t molding you, more like shaping you. Stripping away all the misconceptions and untruths and whatever it was that you’ve read thus far. Everything your previous therapists had tried. His job was to uncover who you truly were.

Reveal…uncover…sculpt…that was it. He was merely helping you sculpt the woman begging to be let out. You were a sexual goddess trapped in marble. You were already there, just unpolished. He had to chisel his way there, not jackhammer it. You didn’t need kid gloves but you needed more finesse. 

Terry smirked as his pen scratched against his notepad, jotting down idea after idea. He hoped you showed. He hoped you took a chance on him and let him help you. Let him be your tenth and final therapist. And then release you to whatever bum caught your eye. 

“This is incredibly helpful, thank you Dr. Crawford,” Terry said. He threw away his trash and then gathered his tea, your file, and your notebook. 

Dr. Crawford’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, his neck turning cherry red. “Oh, I’m sure you would’ve gotten there without me,” he said with a wave. 

“I’m sure I wouldn’t have. See you around,” Terry said, tapping Dr. Crawford on the back. Talking to him reminded Terry of his own father. A tall, imposing man who was larger than life yet nothing but a gentle giant. 

Terry exited the break room and steamrolled down the bland, drab hallway towards his office. His mind filled with more ideas than he knew what to do with. New things to try. New things to explore. If you let him, he would show you exactly what you needed. 

He rounded the corner in time to see you step back from his office door. He stopped in his tracks and watched you for a moment, watched your unguarded expression as you hovered. You were dressed in dark jeans and a red sweatshirt, a small purse over your shoulder, and you clutched your journal against your chest. Your hair was neatly styled and it fit you. 

Many expressions played across your sweet face. You had a tilt to your head and a lilt to your mouth. He would pay top dollar to know what you were thinking. What mental battle you waged inside. Or whether or not you’d knock on the door.

&&&

You

You sighed and rubbed your head. You had been debating if you would attend today’s appointment or not. You felt less than grown up storming out of his office. He must’ve thought you were the biggest goof in the world. 

You fought yourself the entire ride over, constantly looking at every corner as an opportunity to escape. To flee. But you kept passing it up because each corner also tasted terribly like defeat. 

In two sessions, Dr. Richmond had you re-thinking everything. Besides being drop dead gorgeous, he had a big brain to back it up. And damn if it wasn’t working. You wanted more. You wanted to explore everything about yourself. 

Living in your body was painful. But god, you felt so alive. The numbness receded with each passing day as you practiced. You needed to see it through. So with a rumbling gut and sweaty palms, you forced yourself to stay on the road and attend your appointment.

You sighed. This was going to be fucking painful. You raised your hand to knock when soft footfalls sounded behind you.

“No need,” Dr. Richmond said. 

You turned to your right to see him come to a complete stop in front of you. Sugar Honey Iced Tea, he was dreamy. He wore a tan colored long sleeved T-shirt and dark navy pants. The sleeves were rolled on his forearm, veins poking out in his deep almond skin, peeks of tattoos, and he held a mug in his hand. His other hand clutched a notebook and a thick file. Your file. 

You looked from it to his hands to his forearms. Your eyes pinged everywhere on him but his face. Dr. Richmond cleared his throat and tilted his head.

You pinched your lips together and smiled, your eyes crinkling at being caught staring. “Dr. Richmond, great - uh - good to see you,” you said. God, if you listening, strike now, please. Please. Please? 

“I’m glad you’re here. I feared I would’ve been alone for the next hour,” he said. 

You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I was definitely debating. But I said I was committed, and I meant it,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond nodded and then waved his hand forward. You opened the door and held it open for him to enter behind you. You practically skipped to the couch and stood awkwardly in front of it. You held onto your journal but threw your purse on the coffee table.

You watched as Dr. Richmond deposited the mug, notebook, and your file on his desk. You watched the long length of his body, drooling at the fluid way he moved. He must live in the gym or something.

His shirt hinted at a rock hard body, but you wanted to see more. And that was totally the wrong thing to think about your sex therapist. You huffed and looked away from him, up towards the ceiling. 

There should be a law against attractive authority figures. He should be banned from the profession. Retire and go on somewhere. 

The door closed behind you and you jumped. “Would you like it open?” Dr. Richmond asked.

“Nope, I’m good,” you said. You turned to him and gave him a wide smile. “I’m just nervous.”

Dr. Richmond smiled and put his hand in his pocket. “There’s no reason to be nervous. You’re in charge here, remember that,” he said.

You nodded and watched as he crossed the room. Instead of going towards his chair, he perched next to the desk and faced you. “Before we get started, I want to clear the air. I didn’t mean to push you so hard. I approached our session wrong and I apologize,” he said. 

“In what way?” You asked. 

“I assumed that with so many therapists that you didn’t need the song and dance. That you didn’t need the introductory session,” he said.

“No, that was right. I need a push. I know I have more issues to work through than I thought. And so far, everyone’s just been coddling me. Treating me like what I’m feeling is in my head. And I spend all my life in this motherfucker. I know it’s not in my head. Sorry for saying motherfucker,” you said and smirked. 

Dr. Richmond rocked back on his heels and matched your smirk. He nodded his head. “Then we can both move forward together,” he said. He moved around his desk and then sat in his high backed chair. He pulled the mug towards him and blew on the steaming mug. 

His lips should not look so damn kissable. Lush and pink, he had big sexy lips that just made you want to kiss forever. He was a work of art made real. He took a sip from his cup and then pulled the notebook and your file closer. 

“Have you been keeping up with your homework?” He asked.

You nodded. “Yup. Living in my body. Feeling my feelings. Admiring myself,” you said. You finally felt calm enough to sit down on the couch. You stared at the Lego set in the zen garden and shook your head. 

“And?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes and opened your journal and flipped to the pre-appointment jitters. You listed main points that you didn’t mind sharing with him. You told him all about what experiencing living your body felt like. 

It was scary and there were times that you slipped back into your head without realizing it. Zoning back in was always painful, like stepping into the sun after sitting for a three hour movie. You talked about how strange it was to feel like you had been asleep all this time, pushing everything to the back of your mind.

Later, later, another time, when you weren’t so busy. But you were always busy. Always running and moving and thinking and stressing. 

“That must be exhausting,” he chimed in. 

“You have no idea,” you said. Your shoulders dropped from around your shoulders and you mentally groaned. This was going to turn into your Sisyphus. You were going to kick that healing rock up the mountain and just when you thought you’d finally make it, you’d just go tumbling back down. Hope, you fickle bitch. 

You and hope had a toxic codependent relationship. It didn’t really fuck with you like that, but you kept letting it back in your heart. 

“Where do you think this need to cut yourself down before someone else does come from?” Dr. Richmond asked.

You fanned yourself and gaped at him. “Buy me dinner first at least, Dr. Richmond,” you said. You shared a laugh with him and shook your head. “So I wouldn’t be disappointed with my parents when they didn’t give me the reaction I wanted for my accomplishments.” 

Dr. Richmond leaned forward, his eyebrow shooting up above the golden rim of his glasses. “You really do over-analyze yourself,” he said.

You shrugged. “It’s a compulsion. If I don’t, the world burns,” you said softly. Your eyes pricked with tears but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. You weren’t going to shy from this. You weren’t going to disappear into your mind. 

Dr. Richmond took another sip of his mug but to his credit, he didn’t write anything down. That would have somehow been embarrassing. You waited while he sat there and you busied yourself with picking at your nails. 

“We need a fresh start,” Dr. Richmond said. He picked up your file and then opened a drawer. He dropped the folder and the metal popped with the weight. He closed the drawer and then faced you. 

“I’m not your tenth therapist. I’m your first. If you let me, I’m going to help you achieve what you want. You’re going to find sexual satisfaction whenever you want. Whether that’s alone or with a partner,” he said. 

“That’s what I want,” you said.

He nodded and then gripped his mug but he didn’t bring it to his lips. “You said if you didn’t over-analyze yourself, the world would burn. Do you believe the world will literally burn or do you just think something bad will happen?” 

You rubbed your sweaty palms on your jeans and scooted forward on the couch. “Rationally, I know that’s impossible. But irrationally? I’ve never been brave enough to test it,” you said. 

Your mind spun at a thousand hertz per second. It never shut up. Never stopped rolling. Never stopped running. Never stopped with the constant chatter in your mind. You didn’t know what would happen if you had a calm mind. The only time you got some semblance of relief was when you were high.

And even then, your mind was still running in the background. Popping up with new tabs constantly. Because if the chatter stopped, you’d have to face the silence. And you just didn’t know how you’d act. Or if the world would burn. All you knew was that your mind kept spinning and so did the world. 

“Tell me about how you were treated as a teen. How did your parents treat you and how did your peers at school treat you?” He asked.

You giggled. “Okay, if not dinner, then ice cream? I’m a simple cookies n’ cream girly,” you said. 

Dr. Richmond chuckled. “Jokes are just a way to procrastinate,” he said. Goodness that voice. That subtle twang in the back of his throat that hinted of a Southern background. 

You huffed and leaned back on the couch. No one said healing was easy. So you told him. You told him about your over-analytical helicopter parents who were so fearful of something happening to you that they placed you in an invisible bubble. 

They had to know where you were at all times, they had to know your friend’s parents and have them on speed dial, they asked after your every move, and you asked permission before even thinking about going in the fridge. 

You had to become hypervigilant and pick up on cues that your mother was going to grow a second head from all her yelling. You never knew when she would give you a kiss on the cheek or yell at you for no reason. You had to scan her face for microexpressions, trying to gauge which way the wind would blow with her. 

As for your friends…they were cool for what you had at the time. You were no longer friends with them as they’d moved on and left you in the dust. But at the time, any little weird thing you did they poked fun at. And if it wasn’t them, it was the boys in your class. As if you couldn’t step a toe out of line without someone pointing it out for everyone to hear. 

If you jumped onto a chair, then people would turn and stare. If you waved your hands, there were three people there to call you weird. And if you joked and sung badly on purpose, people thought you were serious and made fun of you for being tone deaf.

You tried on plenty of personalities throughout the years, trying to mix and match what people expected of you. You eventually grew comfortable with being weird but that hypervigilance never left you. 

“Would you say you feel safe to be yourself at all?” Dr. Richmond asked. 

You twisted your lips and shook your head. “I wouldn’t know what that is. My mom read my diary once and I never wrote anything down ever again. Until you gave me my homework,” you said. 

&&&

Terry 

You just…listened so well. He knew now that it was a product of your upbringing, being the child who was only seen and never heard. Marching to hundreds of orders given by your overbearing mother and absent in spirit father. 

Add onto that that your peers at school treated you as if there was something wrong with you, it was impossible for you to become comfortable. To achieve safety of mind and body. Who could explore themselves like that? When so many conspired to convince you that you weren’t a person deserving of grace? 

Terry took a sip of his mug and watched you deflate further. Like every truth you kept trapped inside was what kept you animated and full. Without it… 

Terry stood up and rounded his desk, somehow needing the boundary out of the way. Maybe he’d sit in the other chair opposite the table from you from now on. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. 

Fuck. You never even had a chance. He prayed that you hadn’t been abused or hurt by anyone ever. It was a miracle that you didn’t have a string of abusive ex-boyfriends or a thicker medical file in a hospital somewhere. Sweet, open women like you deserved to be cared for. Protected. 

You were a sub in more ways that you realized. And his fondness for you, his attraction, only grew with each session. How? How would he let you go when you graduated from his help? 

“I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to really think before you answer,” he said. He replaced his glasses on his face and tilted his head forward to emphasize his point. This was a hard question but it needed to be asked. 

You leaned forward, clutched your journal to your chest, and pinched your lips. But you nodded and mimed zipping your mouth. 

“Who said they were right?” He asked.

He watched as your face smoothed out to an adorable blank. Your mouth flattened as you looked at him. Again, he wished more than anything to know what you were thinking. What questions raced in your mind. 

He grew concerned when you continued to stare without saying a word. But he didn’t interrupt. He wanted to see where you took it. What you would do. So as you stared, he stared. 

He took in your sweet, rounded features. Your adorably styled hair. The red in your sweatshirt highlighted your beautiful brown skin. You finally took a deep breath and then stared up at the ceiling.

“In all my life, no one has ever asked me that,” you said. You brought your hands to your eyes and swiped at them. You needed to let them fall but he wasn’t going to push you on that right now. 

You stood up and then rubbed your forehead as you paced back and forth. He continued to watch you self-soothe right before his eyes. He wondered if you were conscious of that too. Did you miss anything? 

“And…people just accept it when everyone seems to agree that you’re uncool or weird or whatever, ‘cause of what you said about the group thing. People want to fit in and belong but…no one died and made them the fucking authority on what’s cool. No one put them in charge and they’re not the popular police,” you said as you continued to pace like a ping pong ball. 

“Misery loves company. Hurt people hurt people. However you wanna spin it, nothing brings people closer together than hating the same thing or same person. There’s a sense of validation when people agree with you. And people think mob mentality only applies to bad situations, but it applies everywhere. Because there’s safety in numbers, people would rather go with the flow than be singled out.” 

You threw up your hands. “Why didn’t I learn this years ago? And now I just feel stupid for it never even occurred to me that they weren’t right,” you said. You sat down on the couch with a huff. 

Terry put his hands in his pockets and smirked. He glanced at the clock. He didn’t have you for much longer. He flexed his jaw at the thought. What he wouldn’t give. 

“You shouldn’t feel stupid. Think about what kind of environment you were raised in and continue to live in. You had to be aware to avoid danger. To avoid being singled out. You had to adapt to survive. That takes courage and bravery. You did what you had to do to survive and that’s all anyone is doing.

“But you don’t have to just survive anymore. You get to choose. You get to choose right here and now to live. Live with your whole body because you are here, you are perceivable, you matter, and you can take up space and the world will be fine,” he said. 

Tears swimmed in your eyes and you stood up to face away from him. You faced the window and your shoulders shook. You gripped yourself in a low hug, not making a single sound. 

Terry moved to his desk to grab the box of tissues silently. He made noise so that you knew he was approaching and he placed the box on the end table under the window. You turned your body from him but grabbed a tissue and swiped at your eyes. 

The only sounds he heard was the tick of the clock on the wall and your random sniffles. The shake in your shoulders subsided bit by bit until you looked up at the ceiling. 

Terry remained close by so that you knew you weren’t alone.

&&&

You

Fuck, you felt like a fucking idiot. All these years. Nine fucking therapists. Shitty boyfriend after shitty boyfriend. Your mother’s latest tirade and your father’s empty shrug. All for this man to ask you the one question that shook you to your core. 

Who said they were right? Who said? Who gave them the right to make you think that there was something wrong with you? That your very existence was a plight on the world and it’d be better if you weren’t there? 

Who fucking said? 

It was all so simple and yet complicated. You hung your sense of safety on the need to “do the right thing at the right time”. If you did something “normal”, then no one could make fun of you, and you passed through another day fooling everyone with your disguise. 

And fuck! Wasn’t that freeing? Your chest ached and your eyes pricked with unshed tears, but it was already embarrassing that Dr. Richmond witnessed you crying. You liked to reserve that for sappy, cheesy romance movies on Netflix. 

Your heart felt heavy, weighing down your chest to a near uncomfortable level. You knew you needed to release all of it but not now. Not after only three sessions with this man. 

Who was he? Why was he like this? Where the fuck did he come from? 

“I see why they pay you the big bucks now,” you said, wiping at a tear that dared escape your eye. And you had a random ache in your belly? Feelings were weird. And sticky. Like constantly stepping on glue traps plastered all over the kitchen floor. 

“Why did you place so much bearing on their opinions?” Dr. Richmond asked. You liked that he had stayed close by while you broke apart. It was so rare that you did it in front of others. You were glad that he wasn’t the hugging type. Or the one who filled the room with hot air about how much it was needed and you should let go. 

“Because I don’t want to be alone forever. I want proof that I mattered to someone,” you whispered. You sniffled but held back the tears. You blinked a few times and held firm. Later.

“How can you matter to anyone if you don’t matter to yourself?” Dr. Richmond asked softly. 

The clock ticked in the background and you glanced at the clock. You were a little over your session and you were thankful that the next person hadn’t barged in. You wiped your face once more and then turned to Dr. Richmond.

He stood with his hands in his pockets and a kind smile on his face. His biggest strength was that he was unassuming despite his size. He knew when to use it to his advantage and when to switch it off. He was in tune with those around him and it was rare to find a man with a calming aura. 

“I matter to myself but probably not as much as I think,” you said. “I’ll work on that too.” 

Dr. Richmond nodded. “Your homework is to practice loving yourself. Speak kind words, think nice things about yourself, and remember that your brain is a big ass liar,” he said.

You giggled and ducked your head. “Alright, alright. I’ll be nicer to myself. You missed your calling as a mind reader, Dr. Richmond,” you said. You grabbed your journal and purse from the couch and coffee table and then exited the room, feeling way lighter than when you went in.

Wheww! Need some more? The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1 | Part 2

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[cheeseceli]

you have curly hair

Pairing: Ot8 Skz × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, reaction

Request: an s/o who has curly/wavy hair and feels insecure about it? Maybe skz got used to seeing them with straight hair and one day they catch them with their natural hair?

Warnings: not proofread

A/n: curly hair girls for the win | fundraiser

Bang Chan

‌oh my God, twins?!

‌honestly he loves that you guys have this in common

‌he'll start wearing his curly hair more often

‌you'd both learn how to take care of it together

‌😔 that's so couple goals of you two

‌he'll even try to make some hair styles on you

‌at first he would fail so badly but it would be funny at least 😭

‌but in the end he'd get pretty decent in some of them honestly

‌so that's a slay

‌understands when you're not confident about your looks because same

‌but he's so ready to try and reassure you of your beauty

Lee Know

‌i think he'd have seen some pictures of you before you straightened your hair

‌and he was like "oh it looked pretty as well"

‌but then he sees it in real life

‌and he's like

‌"I underestimated it. I underestimated it so badly"

‌he just can't get over the fact that you look GORGEOUS

‌he finds it so fluffy😭

‌and i think he'd love it when you just woke up or something and the hair is a bit messy

‌because it's so?? pretty??

‌no matter if you say you hate it, he finds it to be your best look just yet

Changbin

‌you guys are also matching!!

‌he won't ever shut up about this btw

‌starts to wear his wavy hair more often too

‌stay are forever grateful to you for that

‌absolutely loves when you make new hairstyles

‌even if you end up failing on styling it, he still hypes you up

‌is already on his way to contact the best hairdressers in town just for you

‌and to buy whatever you may need to take care of it all

‌if you let him play with your hair as well, he could die a happy man

Hyunjin

‌has the most lovestruck gaze ever

‌right when he swore you could not get any prettier...

‌of course you had to go and prove him wrong

‌finds your natural hair to be the creation of some goddess or something like that, no way that is a human trait

‌ overall he's just falling in love even more after seeing the way your curls frame your face

‌compliments just flow so naturally out of his lips and he's like damn

‌needless to say he'll be painting this for weeks to go

Han

‌immediately betrayed because why didn't you tell him you had curly hair any sooner??

‌he could've been getting blessed by such a vision for ages

‌and you just didn't let him??

‌jokes asides, he can't put his mind on the fact that you look even better (how is that possible fr)

‌immediately on his knees begging you to keep your hair this way more times

‌he'll even learn how to take care of it if you don't want to do it yourself!!

‌actually I think he'd find the whole process kinda therapeutic

‌so that's a win win right

Felix

‌😮

‌ that's him right now

‌in the most adorable way ever

‌he just finds you so cute with it

‌it makes you look like an angel

‌really wants to touch your curls but he's so afraid he'd mess them up lmao

‌but he truly loves it

‌won't shut up about this for a hot minute

‌will also take thousands of pictures

‌with you posing or just candids, whatever

‌he just needs to eternalise this moment

Seungmin

‌finds it fluffy PT.2

‌idk you just look so... dreamy?

‌renaissance aesthetic you know

‌he loves it

‌next thing you know is that he bought you tones of things to take care of your hair

‌shampoo, conditioner, mascara... you tell it

‌he did his research okay

‌lowkey doesn't understand how you can be insecure about it because??

‌he loves how you look with the curls

‌he loves your appearance no matter what tbh but your natural hair is just something else

‌it really emphasizes the you in you if that makes sense

‌words of affirmation isn't his strongest love language but boy, isn't he ready to compliment you as much as he can

I.N

‌he has a somewhat cocky smile on his face

‌like, you're just so attractive like that

‌you already were, but now you're just ten times more

‌and it also fits you so well

‌it gives you more aura if you know what I mean

‌and if you do those really cute and creative hairstyles he's so !!

‌he finds it amazing

‌has a whole Pinterest board on inspiration for hairstyles because damn, he didn't know he needed you in those before he saw it for the first time

‌a lot of accessories as well

‌he'll find a way to match your hair accessories to some of his own acessories

Masterlist | you'll probably like: you have a lot of tattoos

Thank you for reading <3

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji

Credits for images 1 2 and 3

Dividers by @isisjupiter

[ink-perfect]

obsessed bf!gojo x gn!reader ⋆. based on: 22 - lil candy paint, bhad bhabie

gojo had a bad habit.

a bad habit of blowing up your phone.

it wasn’t the 'three texts in a row' kind of blowing up, either.

oh no, gojo satoru didn’t do small-scale chaos.

it was an art form for him. the type of masterpiece that made your phone buzz off your nightstand at 3 a.m. with thirty consecutive messages that alternated between blurry selfies, close-ups of his sunglasses, and texts like:

“hey👋 (with the intention of getting midnight sushi)”

“do u think panda would let me dye him pink? 🤔”

“pick up plzzz i jsut saw the funniest video on instagram but i accidnetally exited tje app it and cant find it anymore so i'm jsut going to explain it to you in excruciatign detail”

and tonight was no different—except this time, it came after your first real argument.

you couldn’t even remember what had set it off anymore, but it had ended with you storming off and gojo… well, doing whatever gojo does when someone’s mad at him (eating mochi and sulking).

soon enough, after an hour or so of no contact, the first barrage had begun: thirty consecutive texts ranging from the initial

“i’m sorry 🥺👉👈”

to a dramatic

“why do you hate me? 😭💔 (don't answer that.)”

you’d ignored all of them, determined to let him stew.

but then the calls begun.

ring after ring, voicemail after voicemail, starting out with intense professions of love that slowly faded into desperate pleas for you to call him back, text him back, to respond just once.

and when those went unanswered too, he escalated.

your phone buzzed on your nightstand, flashing yet another text. this time, it came with a photo—gojo lying facedown on what appeared to be megumi’s couch, his hand clutching an empty box of tissues. the caption read:

“i’ve been crying for 84 years 😢 come back pls”

you rolled your eyes, but found the corner of your mouth twitching up despite yourself. he was impossible.

another buzz. this one said,

“fine if ur not gonna answer just know ur the light of my life and i’ll literally wither away like an unwatered houseplant if u don’t forgive me soon 😭 also ur socks are still in my room do u want me to wash them or nah”

the buzz after that said,

“actually nah i'm not bothered to wash them"

and then another buzz.

"also u look hotter when ur mad 🥰”

the audacity of this man.

you let your impulses get the better of you and texted back a stern "leave. me. alone."

and not even a second later, your phone screen lit up with gojo's face for the umpteenth time.

you groaned, snatching it up and finally swiping to answer to put an end to all of this.

“gojo, what part of ‘leave me alone’ don’t you understand?!”

“oh my god,” he gasped, his voice overflowing with fake relief. “you’re alive!”

“i—”

“you weren’t answering, so i thought maybe you’d been kidnapped! or fallen down a well! or—”

“i ignored you,” you interrupted sharply. “on purpose.”

“no yeah, i got that,” he said breezily, completely unfazed. “but we're talking now! the devil sure does work hard, but gojo works harderrrrr."

"gojo—"

"so, how much did ya miss me?”

"gojo."

"also did you see my text about the socks?”

"gojo!"

“aaaaand i’m outside your window by the way.”

“you’re what?”

“outside!” he chirped back like it was the most normal thing in the world.

sure enough, when you yanked open your curtains, there he was—gojo satoru, standing on your lawn in a hoodie two sizes too big, clutching a mismatched bouquet of convenience store snacks and flowers that you could just tell he had made himself.

“ta-da~!” he grinned into the phone as you watched him hold up the haul like it was an olympic medal. “i come bearing gifts!”

you gawked at him. “are you serious?”

“deadly,” he said, his smile widening so much you could even see it from your vantage point. “i brought your favourite snacks, and also, i stole these flowers from my neighbour’s garden. don’t tell anyone.”

“oh my god.” you smacked your forehead, torn between laughing and drawing your curtains shut. “it’s three in the morning.”

“yeah, well, you didn’t answer my texts,” he said, pouting dramatically. “do you have any idea how sad that made me? i’m so sad, baby, like, devastated. i swear i saw my life flash before my eyes.”

you folded your arms, mock unimpressed. “what’s sad is that you think this is going to work.”

“it’s already working,” he shot back smugly. “you’re talking to me, aren’t you?”

you hated that he was right. you hated even more that your annoyance was quickly being replaced by amusement. he was lucky he was cute.

“toru, just go home,” you sighed, though your voice lacked its earlier venom.

“not until you forgive me,” he declared, dropping to one knee with such theatrics you were surprised broadway hadn't whisked him away already. “or at least let me in so i can grovel properly.”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“yeah. unbelievably in love with you.”

you threw a pillow at the window, even though it wouldn’t reach him, giving yourself a minute to think.

okay, more like a few seconds.

to be fair, you were sure he had learnt his lesson. and, well...you were craving ramen, which happened to be placed front and centre in his haphazard bouquet.

“fine!" you whisper-yelled into the phone, a smile already creeping its way onto your face despite your best efforts to stay mad. "but if you wake up my neighbours, i swear i'm locking you out.”

his grin practically lit up the yard. “deal!”

and just like that, you were stomping down the stairs, blanket in hand, ready to let in the most exasperating, ridiculous, adorable man you’d ever met.

because, really, how could you stay mad at him?

masterlist

© ink-perfect; est. 2024.

[airprime7]

Why am I seeing so many fake posts on my dash? Like, there's ones from all sorts of made up realities, I'm surprised I haven't seen ones set in webcomics or whatever.

0 notes

♊️ twinarmageddons reblogged

♊️ twinarmageddons

all of you iidiiot2 need two 2hut up about computer2 unle22 you know what you're talkiing about. ii 2wear ii 2aw 2ome guy telliing people two pour water on theiir keyboard2 two clean them.

♉️ adiostoreador

uH,,,

iS THAT NOT HOW YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO, uH, dO IT,

♊️ twinarmageddons

oh my fuckiing god 2ome people are actual iidiiot2

#ii mean come on you actually beliieved that

22 notes

♑️ terminallycapricious

wAsSuP mOtHeRfUcKeRs???

#HoNk

420 notes

♌️ arseniccatnip reblogged

♌️ arseniccatnip

:33 < hiii!!!

:33 < my name is nepeta leijon, and this is my furst post!

:33 < i like shipping, and rolepurrlaying, and hunting

:33 < i have troll pawtism, so i might not be the best at understanding things. sorry if i get confused!

:33 < i also do art, and my commissions are open! purrlease don't ask me to draw trolls pailing, i'm only 6

:33 < bye! :33

♋️ carcinogeneticist

HOW STUPID DO YOU HAVE TO BE TO PUT YOUR FULL NAME IN YOUR PINNED POST.

DON'T YOU KNOW THE FIRST RULE OF GRUMBLR IS NEVER USE YOUR REAL NAME, YOU IDIOTIC EXCUSE FOR A PERSON.

♒️ caligulasaquarium Follow

wwhy is your text grey

♋️ carcinogeneticist

I DON'T KNOW, WHY ARE YOU SUCH A PRETENTIOUS ASSHOLE, FISH FACE.

🤡 i-say-honk Follow

hOnK!

♋️ carcinogeneticist

FUCK OFF, TC, WE ALL KNOW IT'S YOU.

THIS STUPID "GIMMICK BLOG" ISN'T EVEN FUNNY.

♌️ arseniccatnip

:33 < @carcinogeneticist @caligulasaquarium @i-say-honk kill yourselves

#:33 < :33

333 notes

♍️ grimauxiliatrix reblogged

♈️ apocalypsearisen Follow

im dead n0w

♍️ grimauxiliatrix

Mood

#Honestly I Cant Believe I Made It Through This Week Alone

60 notes

♋️ carcinogeneticist reblogged

👻 ectobiologist Follow

hi! how do i use this app?

♋️ carcinogeneticist

HUMAN ALERT.

@human-alarm

👤 human-alarm Follow

BEEP

612 notes

♋️ carcinogeneticist reblogged

♐️ centaurstesticle Follow

D -> The day we stop valuing horses is the day society collapses

♐️ centaurstesticle

D -> @cuttlefishculler Perhaps I do share some interests with the protagonist of the new popular movie starring Troll Ryan Gosling

D -> If anything that would be a compliment

D -> Not that that's something a f001 such as yourself would understand

♓️ cuttlefishculler Follow

)(-EY, I was just joking around. No need to start being c-rude!!! 380

♏️ arachnidsgrip Follow

Protagonist!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

What movie did you watch? 8ecause 8ar8ie is defin8ly the hero of the one I saw, hooves-for-8rains.

♈️ apocalypsearisen Follow

i liked the 0ne with the b0mb m0re

♒️ caligulasaquarium Follow

rustblood, opinion disregarded

♋️ carcinogeneticist

BLATANT HEMOPHOBIA ASSIDE, ARE WE JUST GOING TO IGNORE OP'S URL?

♊️ twinarmageddons

forget that, cc ii2 the ACTUAL HEIIRE22

♋️ carcinogeneticist

HOLY SHIT, WHO CARES.

1380 notes

♏️ arachnidsgrip reblogged

♏️ arachnidsgrip

You know, I think the murders were good for me.

♎️ gallowscalibrator Follow

VR1SK4, YOU K1LL3D 31GHTY-31GHT P3OPL3.

♏️ arachnidsgrip

Yeah, 8ut I'm over it now. It doesn't effect me anymore.

#I've moved on.

413 notes

♉️ adiostoreador reblogged

💽 turntechgodhead Follow

man i cant believe troll steve jobs died of ligma

♉️ adiostoreador

wHO, uM, wHO'S TROLL STEVE JOBS?

[estellan0vella]

Strawberries And Heaven: H.JS Han Jisung x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 9.8K

CW: Simp Jisung (he's down bad), wingman Minho, wingman SKZ, Minho being a menace (standard), mention of masturbation General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist Part II Part III

The corridor smells faintly of disinfectant and coffee, a mix of sterile campus life and caffeine dependency that permeates Miroh College. It's Thursday afternoon, and that means two things: Jisung has Criminal Psychology at 3:00 p.m., and he's about to see you. The one girl who somehow, against all odds, has managed to drag him to this godforsaken lecture hall every week without fail.

Jisung shifts the strap of his backpack, pulling his black beanie down a bit further as he turns to his left and sees Minho, his best friend and self-proclaimed emotional support stalker, walking along beside him. Minho glances at him, rolling his eyes as they weave through the crowd of students lingering in the halls.

"Are you sure you have to come?" Jisung mutters, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. "It's one class. I don't need babysitting."

Minho snorts, adjusting his own baggy jeans that hang over his black boots. "Are you kidding? I have to see this so-called 'angel' who's got you dragging your ass to a lecture you'd usually skip. You've actually gone soft, dude."

Jisung rolls his eyes, tugging his beanie lower to hide the faint blush that creeps up his neck. "Soft? Fuck you, man. You don't understand. I can't just talk to her."

"Oh, right. You're so experienced with, what was it, every other girl on campus, but when it's this one? You're hopeless. Just go up and introduce yourself. You're good at that. Aren't you the guy who once convinced a chick to lend you her psychology notes with a wink and a compliment?"

"Just tell me you want me to die of embarrassment," Jisung says flatly. "Look, it's different. She smells like strawberries and—" He waves his hand vaguely, struggling to find the right words. "I dunno, heaven?"

Minho stops dead in his tracks, eyebrows raised. "Strawberries and heaven? Jesus Christ, Jisung. You're in deep, aren't you?"

"Shut up," Jisung grumbles, leading them into the lecture hall and gesturing to the seats at the back. "Just keep it quiet, yeah? She's probably already here."

Minho follows, his grin almost wicked as he surveys the room from their vantage point in the back row. "I bet she's not here yet. Relax. You look like you're gonna puke."

"Thanks, man. Real encouraging," Jisung mutters, slumping down in his seat and folding his arms over his chest. His leg bounces slightly as he waits, eyeing the clock that ticks towards 3:00.

The door to the lecture hall creaks open, and just like that, you walk in, casually strolling to her usual seat two rows ahead.

Jisung freezes, his gaze locked on her as you move, the clinking sound of your silver rings faintly audible you brush a strand of hair back. You are wearing faded, low-rise mom jeans that fit you perfectly, a white camisole with lace hems, and a shell-shaped clip holding your hair up in a messy twist. And those hoop earrings, the big silver ones that seem to catch the light just right, make your whole look glow.

Minho follows Jisung's stare and lets out a low whistle. "Damn. So, this is her, huh? I'll give it to you. She's hot. Definitely too hot for you."

Jisung's elbow shoots out instinctively, landing in Minho's thigh with a satisfying thud.

"Ow, fuck! Jesus," Minho bites back a groan, clutching his leg as he glares at Jisung. "What the fuck, man?"

"Keep it down, jackass," Jisung mutters under his breath, trying not to draw attention. "You weren't even supposed to be here, remember? You're a vet major, go learn about cats or something."

Minho's laughter is barely muffled as he holds his leg. "Nah, you're not getting rid of me that easy. I need to see you crash and burn, maybe. Or, if you manage to pull this off, I get to witness a miracle."

"Don't you have a dog to neuter?" Jisung hisses, but Minho just grins and leans back, crossing his arms.

The professor begins setting up, shuffling through notes and connecting the laptop to the projector, while you settle in your seat. Jisung can barely breathe as your scent drifts back towards him. Strawberries. Damn it. Every time, it's like he's being hypnotized.

"See?" Jisung whispers, nudging Minho. "Strawberries and heaven. I swear."

Minho just smirks, leaning closer to Jisung. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. You're totally whipped. She hasn't even looked your way once, has she?"

Jisung slumps, his gaze locked onto the back of your head. The seashell clip is pearly and white, almost glowing against your hair. His leg starts bouncing again.

Minho shakes his head. "Dude, seriously, just say something. You're acting like she's a unicorn or some shit. She's just a girl."

"She's not just a girl," Jisung snaps quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You wouldn't get it, okay? Look at her. She's different."

"Different how?" Minho raises an eyebrow, still whispering. "She dresses like she's straight out of a 90s rom-com."

"Exactly!" Jisung says, eyes lighting up. "She's, like, a 90s dream. She's cool. And she's smart and beautiful. She's my 90s dream girl"

As if on cue, you shift slightly in your seat, glancing down at your notebook, fingers tracing over the page absently as you twist one of your rings.

"Look at her, man," Jisung breathes, sounding almost dazed. "She's right there."

Minho watches him, clearly unimpressed. "You're fucked."

"Thanks, Minho," Jisung mutters sarcastically, but he can't keep the nervous excitement out of his voice. "Look, can you just chill? I'm this close to getting her attention."

"By doing what, exactly?" Minho scoffs. "Staring at the back of her head and hoping she telepathically realizes you're in love with her?"

"Dude, shut up!" Jisung hisses, but his cheeks flush, and he slinks down in his seat, trying to keep a low profile. He watches as you tap your pen absently against your notebook, seemingly unaware of the small, stifled chaos unfolding behind you.

"Right," Minho mutters, trying to keep a straight face. "When you're done writing sonnets about her scent and staring at her hair clip, let me know if you plan on actually talking to her."

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up," Jisung grumbles, but his eyes flick back to you, lingering.

Minho glances at Jisung, a mischievous glint in his eye, and without warning, snatches Jisung's pencil case from the desk, stuffing it into his own bag before Jisung can react.

"Dude, what the—" Jisung starts, reaching to grab it back, but Minho holds up a finger, silencing him.

"Trust me, you'll thank me later," Minho whispers, leaning forward until he's right behind you.

With a quick tap on your shoulder, he flashes you his most charming smile as you turn around, your expression polite albeit a little surprised.

"Hi," Minho says smoothly, "Sorry to bother you, but my dumbass friend here totally forgot his pens and stuff. You wouldn't happen to have a couple to lend us, would you?"

You blink at Minho, then at Jisung, who's sitting with a wide-eyed, slightly mortified look, glaring daggers at his so-called friend.

But you're unfazed, a warm smile spreading across your face as you nod. "Oh, yeah, sure! Here." You dig into your bag and pull out two pens, holding them out to Minho with a little laugh. "Good thing I always over-pack."

Minho takes the pens with a wink. "Now, aren't you just the sweetest?" He flashes another grin. "I'm Minho, by the way. And you are?"

"Y/N," you say, a soft smile playing on your lips. You turn back in your seat but hesitate, glancing back at Minho with a curious look. "I don't think I've seen you in here before."

Minho leans back, adopting an air of nonchalance. "That's 'cause I'm just auditing today. Thought I'd check out what my good buddy here's been raving about." He gestures towards Jisung, who's trying to look anywhere but at you. "I'm minoring in animal behaviour, and apparently, you're discussing the nature versus nurture argument today? I figured I'd see how you forensic folks tackle it compared to my animal kingdom friends."

You nod, genuinely interested. "Yeah, today's lecture is about the developmental aspects of criminal psychology. It's fascinating, really. Some parts overlap with animal behaviour when you consider instinctual behaviours. It's cool to see how psychology adapts across disciplines."

"Right?" Minho nods enthusiastically, playing it up. "But my good buddy here," he places a firm hand on Jisung's shoulder, and Jisung finally meets your eyes, looking equal parts shy and frustrated. "This is Jisung. The one who seems to have forgotten basic lecture etiquette and all his own pens."

You turn to Jisung, your smile soft. "I know. We've had this class together since the start of the semester."

Jisung's eyes widen. "You know?"

You nod, pointing subtly at the front of his notebook, where his name is scrawled in black ink. "Yeah, your name's on your notebook. Hard to miss, honestly."

Jisung's cheeks redden, and Minho has to press his lips together to keep from laughing at his friend's reaction. He shoots Jisung a sidelong glance, a smirk dancing on his face.

Turning back around, you give a small smile, "Anyway, enjoy the lecture, guys."

As soon as you're facing forward, Minho leans in close to Jisung, whispering, "She's acknowledged your existence, man. You're welcome."

Jisung clenches his fists, shooting a fierce glare at Minho before delivering a swift punch to his thigh, harder than before.

"Fuck!" Minho barely contains his yelp, face contorting in pain as he clutches his leg. "Dude, what the fuck?"

"Keep your voice down," Jisung mutters, his face still flushed. "And don't ever pull something like that again, you asshole."

Minho smirks through the pain, rubbing his leg. "Oh, come on. You should be thanking me. You didn't exactly look like you had the guts to make a move yourself."

"I don't need you meddling, okay?" Jisung hisses. He glances at you again, a bit more emboldened now, seeing you jotting notes, completely absorbed in the lecture. He feels a weird thrill knowing that you know who he is. That you remember his name. She knows my name, he repeats in his head, almost in disbelief.

"Sure, you don't need me," Minho mutters under his breath, chuckling. "That's why you've been stalking her with your eyes for the past few months like some lovesick puppy. Face it, dude, you're completely whipped."

"Shut up before I give you another dead leg," Jisung warns, his gaze shifting nervously as you turn your head ever so slightly to stretch, your face calm and focused. He's both relieved and mildly disappointed you didn't catch him staring.

Minho just leans back, folding his arms smugly as the professor starts the lecture, his voice booming through the hall. Jisung tries his best to pay attention, but his eyes keep flicking back to you, noting the small details. How you twirl the pen absentmindedly between your fingers, how your silver rings catch the light, how you bite the inside of your cheek when you're deep in thought.

He's completely lost in his thoughts, only halfway aware of Minho smirking beside him, until the professor's voice jolts him back to reality.

"Mr. Han," the professor calls, eyebrow raised, and Jisung snaps to attention, his heart hammering. "Care to share your thoughts on the influence of early attachment theory in criminal psychology?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, of course." He clears his throat, scrambling for words while he can practically feel Minho's eyes burning into the side of his face. "Well, uh, early attachment theory basically suggests that the bonds formed in childhood can affect...um, behaviour patterns later in life. So, if there's a, uh, lack of healthy attachment early on, it can potentially influence-"

"Very insightful, Mr. Han," the professor interrupts, looking somewhat surprised. "It's encouraging to see you're paying attention."

Jisung sinks down in his seat, feeling Minho's barely restrained laughter beside him.

Minho leans over, whispering, "Congrats, you managed to bullshit your way through that without sounding like a total idiot."

"Thanks for nothing," Jisung mutters, hoping he can make it through the rest of the lecture without any more mortifying incidents. But then he catches you glancing over your shoulder, a hint of a smile on your lips, and he has to look away quickly to hide the stupid grin spreading across his face.

Minho nudges him, not missing a thing. "See? She's looking at you, dude. Progress."

That night in Jisung's room at the Alpha Phi frat house is filled with the flashing lights of Mario Kart on the TV and the sounds of brutal competition. Jisung's focused, leaning forward, button-mashing like his life depends on it, but Minho? Minho's lounging back, one hand on his controller, barely trying.

Jisung's character hits a banana peel, spinning out on the screen. "Oh, for fuck's sake! This stupid fucking game!"

Minho laughs, glancing over with a smirk. "You're terrible at this, dude."

"Shut up. You distracted me!" Jisung grumbles, tossing the controller on the bed beside him. "You're one of those lucky players. No skill, all luck."

"Uh-huh," Minho says, scooting to the edge of the bed and looking over at Jisung. "But I think we've got more important shit to talk about."

"Do we?" Jisung eyes him suspiciously. "'Cause I'd rather just forget the disaster that was today's lecture and how you spoke to her more than I did."

"Yeah, no, we're not forgetting it. Actually," Minho says, setting his controller down, "we're making a plan. You need an action plan, and I'm gonna help you."

Jisung raises an eyebrow, almost laughing at the audacity. "You're going to help me?"

Minho grins, sitting up and nodding, deadly serious. "Yep. What kind of best friend would I be if I let my friend sit around pining like some tragic little Shakespeare character? You, my friend, need a strategy."

"Strategy," Jisung repeats the word as though it's foreign like Minho just told him to build a rocket to the moon. "You realize that I have no idea what I'm doing here, right?"

"Exactly! You are amazing with women for casual hook ups but genuine feelings? You are useless. That's why you have me," Minho says, crossing his arms. "I've got a plan."

"Oh, you have a plan?" Jisung sits up, eyebrows raised. "You're really taking this seriously, aren't you?"

Minho scoffs. "If by seriously, you mean I'm not gonna let my friend completely fuck it up, then yes."

"Right," Jisung mutters, rolling his eyes. "And what is this master plan, Minho?"

"Oh, no, no," Minho says with a smirk, wagging a finger. "I'm not telling you what it is just yet."

Jisung sighs, flopping back on his bed. "Great. So I'm supposed to just sit here and trust you?"

"Absolutely," Minho says, smug. "But don't worry. I'm not a complete asshole. I want my confident, borderline cocky best friend back. You're like this-" He gestures vaguely at Jisung like he's pointing at some hopeless little creature. "Weird, hopeless romantic now."

Jisung grabs a pillow and flings it at Minho, who dodges with a laugh. "It's not my fault, okay? You saw her. She's- She's unreal."

Minho raises his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. And hey, I'm all for it if it means getting you out of this sad sack of shit phase. If I have to help you woo a girl who dresses like she's in the Spice Girls, then that's what I have to do."

Jisung pauses, frowning. "Spice Girls? Nah, she's more of a Sugababe"

Minho rolls his eyes, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "Do you want my help or not?"

"Yes, I do," Jisung says, almost begrudgingly. "I need it, obviously."

"Then she's a Spice Girl," Minho declares with finality, earning a reluctant laugh from Jisung.

"Fine, Spice Girl," Jisung mutters, rolling his eyes. "But seriously, you better not fuck this up for me. I'm trusting you, which feels like a massive mistake."

"Hey," Minho says, raising a finger, his tone mockingly offended, "when have I ever let you down?"

Jisung snorts. "Need I remind you of the infamous barbecue incident?"

Minho waves his hand dismissively. "That was different. And technically, you were the one who set the grill on fire."

"You handed me lighter fluid, you idiot!" Jisung argues, laughing despite himself.

"Okay, but that was in the past," Minho says, grinning. "This is the present, my dude. And I'm telling you, I've got this. We're going to break you out of your sad little funk, and you're gonna have that confident Han Jisung swagger back in no time."

Jisung flops back against the bed, sighing deeply. "You think it's really that easy?"

"Trust me," Minho says, his smirk turning into something more genuine. "It's easier than you think. Plus, it's you. You're funny as hell, weirdly charming, objectively hot, and at least on the same planet as her intellectually. She's got no chance."

Jisung rolls his eyes, but he's grinning now. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm basically irresistible."

"Exactly," Minho says with a satisfied nod. "But seriously, dude. I'm not letting you mess this up. It's gonna be fine."

Jisung's grin fades just a bit, a hint of nerves creeping back in. "I just- I don't know, man. I've never felt this way about anyone before. She's just different."

"Of course, she is," Minho says, his tone a little softer. "And that's why you're gonna let me help you. Tomorrow's a new day, Jisung. In no time, we'll get you in front of her without you sounding like a total fucking loser. And trust me, you're gonna thank me."

Jisung rolls his eyes but feels a sense of relief he hasn't felt since this whole crush started. "Yeah, yeah. Just remember, no fuck ups, Minho. I'm trusting you with this."

Minho grins, reaching for the controllers. "Just leave it to me. Now, shut up and get ready to lose again."

It's one of those brisk fall days on campus where the chill in the air contrasts with the bright sun, casting golden light on the trees scattered across Miroh College. You're strolling across the courtyard, books clutched to your chest, barely paying attention to the buzz of students around you.

"Y/N!" someone calls out.

You turn, mildly surprised, to see Minho weaving through the crowd, jogging to catch up. He's got a cocky half-smile plastered on his face, and he's holding something in his hand. As he comes to a stop in front of you, slightly out of breath but still looking annoyingly composed, he holds out his hand, revealing the pen you lent him in class the other week.

"Here," he says, grinning as he offers it back to you. "Didn't think I was actually gonna keep it, did you?"

You laugh, tucking the pen into your trouser pocket. "Honestly? I kind of figured you'd forgotten about it. But thanks." You give him a curious look, noting the way he's standing there as if he has more to say.

He clears his throat, a little too casually. "So, are you free right now?"

"Yeah, I don't have another class for a bit," you say, shifting your books in your arms. "Why?"

Minho shoves his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels like he's considering something. "Wanna grab a coffee at the cafe? I could use some advice about a girl, and you seem like the kind of person who knows what to say and gives good advice."

You raise an eyebrow, surprised. "Me? Giving relationship advice?"

"Yeah, I know," Minho laughs, "but trust me, you're more qualified than anyone else I know. Plus, I'm a little desperate and a female perspective will be really helpful. Power of the female gaze and all that"

You can't help but laugh. "Alright, alright. I'm in. Let's go."

The campus cafe is buzzing with the usual lunchtime crowd, and you slip into a booth by the window, tucking your books beside you. As you settle in, Minho sets his bag down, glancing toward the counter. "I'll get our drinks," he says, grinning before heading up to order.

You're only half-watching him until you notice the guy working behind the counter. Jisung, from your Criminal Psychology class. He spots you almost instantly, and his eyes go comically wide, like he's just seen a ghost, or worse. 

Minho sees Jisung's reaction immediately and, with a grin, flashes him a big thumbs up, clearly enjoying the situation. Jisung's expression shifts to something closer to horror, his gaze flicking from Minho to you, then back again as Minho approaches the counter.

"Relax, dude," Minho mutters when he reaches Jisung. "An iced americano for me and a caramel latte for the lady."

Jisung crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at Minho. "I swear, if this is some elaborate plan to fuck with me, I am going to spit in your coffee. Like big time spit, obnoxious amounts that shouldn't be humanly possible"

Minho smirks, leaning on the counter like he's sharing some big secret. "Ooh, I like a little danger. But seriously, I am wingmanning you right now, so maybe hold the bodily fluids?"

Jisung rolls his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but the relief on his face is evident. "Fine. But what's your big plan? Don't tell me you're just-"

"Listen, man," Minho interrupts, lowering his voice and casting a quick glance back at you, who's busy scrolling on your phone. "I'm gonna ask her for advice. Tell her I like this girl in my vet class and don't know how to talk to her, and the girl barely knows my name."

Jisung frowns, processing that. "But that's exactly- Oh, I get it now!" he says, realization dawning on him. "You're trying to figure out what I should do, aren't you?"

Minho gives him a look, exasperated. "Obviously. You think I'd drag her here just for the hell of it? Now, chill. Act natural and I will get your answers"

Jisung lets out a small, relieved sigh, finally grinning. "I'm not gonna lie, this is actually kinda genius."

Minho leans in closer, tapping the counter with a smug smile. "I know. I'm the best friend you could ever wish for. A blessing, really. You wouldn't live without me, well you'd live in the sad little turtle shell you duck into each time you see her"

Jisung smirks, grabbing the drinks and sliding them onto the counter. "Yeah, yeah. I still might spit in your drink."

Minho winks, grabbing the coffees with a smirk. "Do your worst."

He heads back over to the booth, setting your caramel latte in front of you as he slides into the seat across from you, his iced americano in hand. You offer a small, grateful smile as you stir your latte.

"So," you say, taking a sip. "What's going on with this girl?"

Minho sighs dramatically, leaning back and shaking his head like he's in over his head. "Alright, so there's this girl in my vet class. She's cute, no stunning, way too smart, and honestly, I feel like I barely exist to her."

You smile, nodding. "So, like, what's the problem? You're outgoing, funny, objectively good looking with the whole red hair, football frat thing. can't you just introduce yourself?"

"See, I thought of that," Minho says, playing up the thoughtful expression. "But she's, like, different, you know? Not the type who falls for my usual charm."

You laugh. "Oh, really? And what makes her different?"

"She's actually serious about her studies. And she's, like gentle and kind?" Minho looks at you, brows raised as if for confirmation. "Kinda like you. I feel like I'd come off like an idiot trying to get her attention."

You sip your coffee thoughtfully, thinking it over. "I think maybe just be yourself, then? Like, you don't have to be all charming or witty. Sometimes people respond better to honesty."

Minho nods, his expression almost sincere as he takes in your words. "That's actually good advice. So, just like come out with it? Just be like, 'Hey, I'm Minho, and I think you're cute'?"

You smile, shrugging. "Why not? I mean, sure, it's direct, but if she doesn't know you that well, she might appreciate that. People can usually tell when someone's being genuine."

Minho glances at the counter where Jisung's watching like a hawk, pretending to be busy cleaning the espresso machine. Minho subtly raises his eyebrows at him, as if to say, See? This is gold.

Jisung gives him a tiny nod, barely hiding his smile. From his station behind the counter, he watches as you talk, clearly engaged, your whole demeanour warm and relaxed. He doesn't know how Minho pulled this off, but for the first time in weeks, he feels like he might actually have a chance.

Meanwhile, Minho leans in closer, lowering his voice. "Okay, but what if she thinks I'm too much of a goof? Like, if she sees me as some obnoxious frat guy?"

You wave off his concern. "I don't know her, but if she's smart, she'll see past that. Besides, being a little goofy isn't the worst thing. Just don't go overboard, you know?"

Minho nods thoughtfully, leaning back as if he's deep in contemplation. "Yeah, yeah, keep it cool. Show her I'm not just some frat asshole."

You laugh, taking another sip. "Exactly. Just be Minho, not whatever character you're usually playing."

Minho raises his iced americano in a mock toast. "To being myself," he says with a grin. You laugh, clinking your coffee cup with his, and he makes a mental note to remember every word you just said so he can relay it to Jisung later.

The last slide of the lecture fades from the projector, and the usual rustling of notebooks and bags fills the room as everyone begins packing up. You're sliding your textbook and notes into your tote bag, ready to head out, when you feel a light tap on your shoulder. You turn, surprised, and there he is. 

Jisung wearing an easy smile and an outfit that's surprisingly layered, intentional and kind of hot: black trousers, combat boots, a long-sleeve blue t-shirt beneath a grey graphic tee, and a cream-coloured cap, chains around his neck catching the light.

For a second, you're caught off guard; usually, you only ever catch a glimpse of him as he slips into a seat at the back just as the lecture's starting, often a little flustered. But today, he's right here, all grins and casual confidence.

"Hey," he says, his voice warm as he shoves his hands into his pockets. "So, that lecture was something, right?"

You nod, smiling back. "Yeah, Professor Kim really went in on the whole behavioural implications of early attachment theory thing. Like, there was no mercy."

Jisung lets out a small laugh. "Seriously, I thought he was going to lose it when that one guy asked if criminal behaviour could be 'genetically contagious.' Like, holy shit, man, read the room."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Oh my god, right? I was ready to crawl under the desk."

"Same," Jisung chuckles, relaxing a bit. He remembers Minho's words from earlier in the week: Just be yourself. And he tries to keep that in mind, despite the slight nervousness bubbling under the surface.

"So, you're, uh, you're always on top of the reading, huh?" he asks, trying to keep it light as he leans back casually against the desk beside yours. "I feel like you could practically teach this class."

You shrug, shoving your last notebook into your bag and giving him a friendly smile. "Yeah, maybe. I just find it interesting, you know? All the psychology behind why people do what they do. It's fascinating to think there are patterns to it, stuff you can study and predict."

"Totally," Jisung says, nodding as if he completely gets it, even though half the time he's barely keeping up. "I mean, it's kinda cool to think that there's a method to what seems like total chaos."

"Exactly!" you say, your eyes lighting up as you lean against the desk, looking at him with genuine interest. "It's like unlocking mysteries in people's minds. Or at least trying to, anyway."

Jisung grins, a little taken aback by how animated you are. He's seen you in class, obviously, but seeing you like this, so close, he feels like he's getting a rare glimpse of who you actually are. And, damn, it's even better than he'd expected.

"I never thought of it that way," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I usually just think, 'Okay, study this, survive, move on.' But it sounds way cooler when you put it like that. Makes me actually want to put an effort in to studying"

You laugh, looking down as you swing your bag over your shoulder. "You know, surviving is honestly a valid approach. Sometimes, I feel like I'm just trying to get through the day without having a mental breakdown."

Jisung chuckles, nodding. "Can't argue with that. But hey, you seem like you've got it all figured out."

You give him a playful look. "Trust me, it's all an act. Half the time, I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Same here," he says, feeling a rush of relief. "I thought I was the only one faking it."

You smile, shaking your head. "Nope. We're all just stumbling our way through. Story of student life I suppose"

Jisung's eyes linger on you for a second longer than he means to, and he suddenly remembers Minho's advice to keep things relaxed but confident. "Well, maybe if I can get some of that magic stumbling hiding confidence you've got, I might actually make it to the end of the semester without flunking out."

You raise an eyebrow, amused. "Oh yeah? I'll let you in on a secret, it's just caffeine and pretending I understand what's going on."

Jisung laughs, nodding in understanding. "Noted. I'll double up on the caffeine, then."

You grin, your gaze softening. "Good plan."

After a beat, you glance at the clock. "Anyway, I should probably get going. Got another class in, like, ten minutes, and I'm already halfway across campus from it."

"Right, yeah," Jisung says, moving back a step to let you pass. "Well, thanks for not minding me, uh, ambushing you like that."

"Not at all, it was nice talking to someone who actually listens in the lectures," you say, smiling warmly. "See you next week, Jisung."

You turn and head for the door, giving him a little wave before you slip out. Jisung watches you go, feeling an unexpected rush of adrenaline, and once you're gone, he lets out a long breath, barely containing the wide grin spreading across his face.

He can still hear Minho's voice in his head, saying, Just be yourself. And, for once, that had felt like it was enough.

Jisung practically kicks Minho's door open as he barrels into the room, eyes lit up with excitement. But his enthusiasm stumbles as he takes in the scene.

"Jisung, are you serious?!" Minho exclaims, glaring at him. "You just killed my mood! I was about to bust, man!"

Jisung rolls his eyes, unbothered, crossing his arms. "Yeah, whatever, sorry for ruining your little wank session, but, like terrible porn choice, by the way. Boring as hell."

Minho flips him off as he grabs his underwear, tugging them back up with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine. So what the hell is so important that you've gotta bust down my door like you're the cops?"

Jisung's face breaks into a wide grin. "Dude. She spoke to me. We had an actual conversation! I spoke to her. Like, a real conversation."

Minho stares at him, caught between disbelief and amusement as he pulls his headphones off, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "No shit?" he says, still looking slightly dazed from Jisung's interruption.

"Yeah, no shit," Jisung says, almost bouncing in place.

Minho smirks, his eyes narrowing as he looks Jisung up and down. "Wait, is that why you put actual effort into your outfit today? And the hair, too? By 'styled,' of course, I mean just putting a cap on that mop."

Jisung grins, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, yeah, maybe I tried a little. But, dude, it worked!"

Minho snickers. "So you finally did it, huh? Had a full conversation with her?"

Jisung nods enthusiastically. "Hell yeah, we did! We talked about the lecture, and, like, I don't know, she was so easy to talk to and she said it was nice talking to me, like she wasn't even weirded out that I started talking to her. It felt so normal?"

Minho raises an eyebrow. "Alright, so now what?"

Jisung blinks, his excitement faltering for a second. "What do you mean, now what? I don't know. Help me?"

Minho sighs, shaking his head as he stands up. "How are you so useless with this? Okay, genius idea, invite her to the next game."

Jisung's face lights up again. "Oh, shit. Yeah! I'll invite her to the game, get her there cheering us on..."

"Exactly, dumbass. I'll help you score a touchdown or two, and you'll look like a total beast. Win-win." Minho smirks, clearly pleased with his own idea.

"Dude, you're the best," Jisung says, grinning. "I'll totally owe you one for this."

Minho claps his hand on Jisung's shoulder, a smug grin on his face. Jisung instantly recoils, cringing. "Ew! That's your dick hand!"

Minho laughs, slapping him harder on the back for good measure. "Hey, that's what you get for ruining my nut, you absolute menace."

Jisung groans, wiping his shoulder with exaggerated disgust. "This is why people lock doors, Minho."

"Oh, like you've ever knocked once in your life," Minho retorts, rolling his eyes. "But wait. You got so far today, and you don't even have a way to reach her? A number? Instagram?"

Jisung's face falls, and he slumps onto Minho's bed with a defeated sigh. "Nope. I didn't even think of it until now."

Minho throws his hands up, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Useless. You're actually useless. This is going to take so much more work than I thought."

"Hey!" Jisung protests, but he's laughing now, leaning back on the bed with a sigh. "Alright, alright, I'll figure it out. You're right, though, I'll need her number. Any genius ideas?"

Minho shakes his head with a dramatic sigh. "Good thing you've got me. I'll brainstorm. But seriously, you better not screw this up."

"You'll help me if I do right?"

"After laughing in your face obviously,"

The sun's dipping low, casting a warm golden glow over the field as Chan has the football team running drills. Again. The guys are panting, practically dying under Chan's merciless watch, their bodies burning from the gruelling set of push-ups, burpees, and sprints he's making them do. Even Jisung, who usually manages to keep his energy up, is starting to feel like his limbs are made of lead.

But as he glances over toward the college track, he spots you jogging, a look of relaxed determination on your face as you breeze through each lap. It's ridiculous. You look like you're gliding effortlessly, not a bead of sweat in sight, while the team grunts and groans with exhaustion.

Minho notices Jisung's gaze drifting. He elbows him, nodding over toward you. "Isn't that your dream '90s girl over there?"

Jisung's attention snaps back, his face flushing as he realizes Minho and the rest of the guys nearby are watching him.

Chan and the others follow Minho's gaze, squinting across the track. You're in a pair of low-rise sweatpants that sit comfortably on your hips, paired with a cropped white camisole with a lace trim, and white sneakers.

Your hair's pinned up in that familiar seashell claw clip, a few strands falling loose around your face. It's the kind of look that would have looked right at home in an old music video, and it's like you walked out of a '90s dream.

"Damn, she doesn't look tired at all," Changbin mutters, still trying to catch his breath from Chan's never-ending drills.

"She's putting us all to shame," Jeongin says, half-laughing, half-wheezing. "How is she just breezing through those laps?"

Seungmin glances at Jisung with a smirk. "Wait, don't tell me you're struggling to talk to her?"

Minho nods with a heavy, dramatic sigh. "It's actually hurting my soul, and I didn't even know I had one of those."

Felix raises his eyebrows, laughing. "Revolving door of women Han Jisung can't talk to a girl? Are we in an alternate universe?"

Jisung rolls his eyes. "Oh, please. You guys are being so dramatic."

"Hey, it's not every day that the great Han Jisung meets his match," Chan teases, wiping sweat from his brow. "Honestly though, Minho, we all doubted you had a soul."

"Thanks, Chan, that's what I go for," Minho says with a smirk. "But yeah, Jisung, now's your chance. Go ask her for her number. And invite her to the game while you're at it."

Jisung looks horrified, glancing down at his sweaty clothes and feeling his hair matted from sweat. "Right now? While I'm covered in sweat?"

"Yes," Minho says, his voice firm. "There's no time like the present. You're gonna overthink it if you wait."

Seungmin chimes in with an encouraging nod, his tone mocking. "Go on, man. Ask her out. Don't worry, you can do it. Maybe."

"Shut up," Jisung grumbles, but he can feel the nervous energy building.

Felix elbows him playfully. "C'mon, this is a moment for the history books. Don't chicken out."

With a mischievous look, Minho cups his hands around his mouth, ignoring Jisung's wide-eyed stare. "Yo, Y/N! Come join us!"

You pause, looking over toward the group with a curious expression as you pull one of your earbuds out. After a moment of hesitation, you jog over, slowing to a walk as you approach the crowd of sweaty football players.

"Hey," you greet, giving a small smile as you reach them, taking in the group with an amused look. "You guys look like you're in hell."

"You don't know the half of it," Changbin groans, leaning over to catch his breath. "I think Chan's trying to kill us."

Chan just smirks. "That's how you get a winning team, my friend." Chan's eyes flicker to the Walkman clipped to your waistband, and Chan's face lights up with sudden recognition. "Hold on, is that a real Walkman?"

You smile, nodding. "Yep, authentic. Found it in a thrift shop, and it still works perfectly."

"That's insane," Chan says, sounding genuinely impressed. "I haven't seen one of those in, like, forever."

Jisung takes a deep breath, gathering his courage, and steps forward with a lopsided grin. "Hey, so, uh, we have a game coming up this Saturday," he says, his voice surprisingly steady despite the nervous excitement bubbling in his chest. "I thought maybe, if you're free, you could come by? Cheer us on?"

You tilt your head, clearly considering it as you give him a warm smile. "Yeah, I think I'd like that. It sounds fun."

Jisung's grin widens, the relief flooding through him as you agree. "Awesome, yeah. We'll- we'll definitely put on a good show."

Minho raises an eyebrow, smirking at Jisung's wide grin. "Oh, he's gonna be putting on a show, alright."

Chan lets out a small laugh, nodding approvingly. "Better make it a good one, Jisung."

You glance at the group, laughing softly at the way they're all watching Jisung, clearly amused and intrigued by the whole interaction. "Well, good luck with the rest of practice, guys. Hope you survive it."

"Thanks, Y/N," Jisung says, almost too eagerly. 

The team watches as you jog over to the bleachers, earbuds back in and totally oblivious to the chaos unfolding behind you. Minho's gaze follows you for a second before he turns on Jisung and slaps him upside the head.

"Ow!" Jisung yelps, rubbing the back of his head. "Dude, I asked her to the game! What the hell was that for?"

Minho sighs, looking at him like he's the densest person on the planet. "You didn't ask for her number, you idiot!"

"Oh. Shit."

Chan crosses his arms and nods towards the bleachers. "Alright, well, go ask her now! What are you waiting for?"

"Right!" Jisung says, almost tripping over himself as he prepares to take off, only to freeze in place, still staring at the bleachers as if they're a hundred miles away.

Changbin squints at him, an amused smirk on his face. "Uh, Jisung, you haven't moved."

Jisung blinks, nodding. "I'm going!" But he's still firmly rooted to the spot.

Hyunjin snorts, crossing his arms. "You still haven't moved, man. It's like you're glued to the grass or something."

Minho lets out an exaggerated sigh, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically. "There it is again, this pain in the soul I didn't know I had. Honestly, Jisung, you're killing me."

Felix and Jeongin, watching with growing impatience, exchange a glance before stepping forward and shoving Jisung forward with a well-placed push. Caught off guard, he stumbles but quickly regains his footing, shooting them a quick glare before he jogs over to you.

By now, you're sitting on the bleachers, scrolling through your phone, clearly enjoying the peace. When Jisung stops in front of you, a little breathless, you glance up with a curious smile, taking out an earbud.

"Hey! Back already?" you ask, giving him an amused look. "Did Chan finally cut you guys a break?"

Jisung scratches the back of his neck, feeling his usual bravado abandon him in the face of your calm, easy smile. "Uh not quite," he says, mentally cursing himself for how awkward he feels. "But, um, I just realized about the game on Saturday. I could, you know, send you details if you wanted them."

You raise an eyebrow, nodding. "Oh, yeah, that'd be great."

"Right. So, uh, could I maybe have your number?" He's practically holding his breath, his pulse racing, but he tries to play it cool. "You know, as a friend, for game details and stuff."

"Of course!" you say, nodding. You reach into your bag and pull out a pen, scribbling your number on a small slip of paper before handing it to him. "Here you go. Just text me when and where, and I'll be there."

Jisung takes the paper, feeling a ridiculous amount of triumph as he clutches it like it's some sacred artefact. "Awesome. Thanks!"

You smile, tucking your earbuds back in. "No problem. Good luck with the rest of practice!"

As you jog off, Jisung watches you for a second, still gripping the slip of paper before he turns and heads back to the field.

The guys are all watching him expectantly as he approaches, Minho crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. "Well? How'd it go?"

Jisung waves the piece of paper triumphantly. "I got her number!"

Seungmin raises an eyebrow, noting the look on Jisung's face. "But...?"

Jisung sighs, the realization settling in as he slumps slightly. "I friend zoned myself."

The entire team lets out a collective groan, most of them doubling over with laughter or shaking their heads in disbelief.

"What is wrong with you?" Minho says, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Are you trying to sabotage yourself, or what?"

Jisung rubs his temples, feeling his frustration build. "I don't know, man! Usually, I can get a girl's number and have her in my bed in, like, ten minutes. It's like all my usual shit just falls apart when I'm around her."

Hyunjin laughs, patting him on the back. "Maybe that's a sign, genius. Try being, I don't know yourself?"

Chan snorts, crossing his arms. "This is a first. Han Jisung, a bumbling self friend zoning mess"

Jisung huffs, rolling his eyes. "Thanks for the support, guys."

Felix grins, his voice softening. "Come on, man. Just be real with her. No more overthinking. Invite her to the game, hang out, just chill. Don't overcomplicate it."

Minho shakes his head, laughing. "Right. We'll do the complicated part on the field. Just focus on not friend zoning yourself again, okay?"

Jisung lets out a reluctant laugh, tucking the slip of paper safely into his pocket. "Fine, fine. No more overthinking. Just keep it simple."

The team exchanges looks, clearly sceptical but amused, as Chan whistles to get them back on task. "Alright, lovebirds, enough about the romance stuff. Back to drills. Let's go!"

With one last glance toward the bleachers where you'd been sitting, Jisung feels a rush of determination. Saturday can't come soon enough.

The stadium lights blaze down on the field, casting a glow across the crowd and players as Miroh College's football team, the Miroh Maniacs, prepare for the big game.

Jisung stands at the edge of the field, scanning the bleachers with anxious eyes, trying to spot you among the scattered faces. But the stands are filled with students, and it's impossible to find anyone, let alone the person he's been looking forward to seeing all week.

He huffs, scuffing his cleats into the grass, feeling his chest tighten. "She didn't come," he mutters, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Minho, standing beside him in full gear, gives him a sympathetic look and a heavy pat on the back. "Damn, man. That's rough. But hey, maybe she got caught up or something. Doesn't mean she didn't want to come."

Jisung lets out a sigh, folding his arms. "Yeah, maybe. Still feels like shit, though."

As the game begins, Jisung tries to keep his focus on the field, but it's tough when all he can think about is you, not being there. He's distracted, missing cues, and every time he glances at the bleachers, there's a sinking feeling in his stomach. Minho notices, giving him an encouraging nudge whenever he slips up, but Jisung can't shake the nagging disappointment.

By halftime, Jisung's barely even listening as Chan goes over their next moves. He's glancing back toward the stands, wondering if you might magically appear, hoping against hope. And then, as the players start gathering for their pep talk, Jisung sees something that stops him in his tracks.

There you are, sitting at the bottom of the stands, looking around as if you're searching for someone. You're wearing a green long-sleeve shirt that dips into a deep V-neck, showing just a hint of skin, and a pair of baggy, low-rise jeans. The familiar black Converse on your feet, your hair is messily clipped up with that same seashell claw clip. It's unmistakably you.

His heart leaps, and before he knows it, he's jogging over, catching you by surprise as he comes to a stop in front of you.

"Hey," he says, slightly out of breath but grinning. "You okay?"

You look up at him, guilt flickering across your face as you offer a small, apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry, Jisung. I know I'm late. I was finishing up my forensic science paper and, like, totally lost track of time."

He shakes his head, a bit stunned that you actually came. "You didn't have to come if you had a big assignment. Seriously, it's not a big deal."

You smile, and the sincerity in your eyes makes his chest feel lighter. "No, I said I'd be here, so here I am." You gesture toward the field, smirking. "Besides, I wasn't going to miss out on seeing you guys destroy the other team, right?"

Jisung laughs, the weight that had been on his shoulders lifting in an instant. "We're doing our best, but uh got a little distracted in the first half." He rubs the back of his neck, feeling his cheeks warm a bit.

"Well," you say, looking up at him with a reassuring smile, "now I'm here, so no more excuses. You've got a whole second half to make up for it, right?"

The shrill blast of the whistle signals the start of the second half, and Jisung shoots you a quick grin. "Guess I better get back out there. Keep an eye out, alright?"

You nod, laughing. "Oh, I'll be watching. Go kill it."

Jisung jogs back toward his teammates, practically buzzing with energy now. Minho, standing with Hyunjin near the sidelines, spots him and raises an eyebrow. "Finally got that confidence back, huh?"

Hyunjin smirks, crossing his arms. "Alright, man. We're getting you a touchdown. Everyone's in on it."

Minho grabs a bottle of water, shoving it into Jisung's hands. "It's time to wow your '90s dream girl, dude. So hydrate, gear up, and get your ass in the zone."

Jisung takes the bottle, glancing down at it sceptically. "But what if I have to piss? Seriously, I'm not risking that."

Minho rolls his eyes, exasperated. "For god's sake, just drink some water."

Jisung takes a reluctant sip, his face scrunching as he sets the bottle down. "Fine, but if this backfires, you're to blame."

Hyunjin laughs, giving him a shove toward the huddle where the rest of the team waits. "Go kill it, Romeo."

With one last look at you sitting on the bleachers, Jisung heads back to the field, a newfound determination in his eyes. He's ready for the second half, and this time, he's not holding anything back.

The whistle blows to start the second half, and instantly, the team is on high alert. Chan calls the play, and the whole lineup is subtly geared toward making sure Jisung has the perfect setup to score. The guys are practically electric, each one of them more hyped than usual, and it's clear they're all determined to help Jisung pull off his moment.

Jisung lines up, glancing once toward the bleachers where you're watching, leaning forward with your eyes locked on the game. His heart pounds, adrenaline pumping as he gets into position.

Chan snaps the ball, and the play begins. Minho and Hyunjin immediately work to block the defenders, giving Jisung a clear path as he sprints downfield, dodging tackles, his every step fueled by the thought of you watching. He feels every inch of the field beneath his cleats, and it's like everything's in slow motion. He can see the end zone, clear and open, just waiting for him.

"Go, Jisung!" Minho yells, throwing a solid block that opens up the final few yards for him.

With a burst of speed, Jisung dives forward, clutching the ball tightly as he crosses into the end zone. The cheers erupt around him, but the only thing he's focused on is you, standing up in the bleachers, clapping with a wide, proud smile that lights up your entire face and makes Jisung see the world in shades of pink.

Jisung's face breaks into a grin, his chest swelling with pride as he stands up, unable to hide the joy on his face. He can barely hear his teammates around him because all he's seeing is the look on your face, and it's enough to make him feel invincible.

"Hell yeah!" Changbin cheers as he and Minho rush over, pulling Jisung to his feet with matching grins.

"Alright, you've impressed her now," Minho says, slapping him on the back. "But now you've gotta close the deal. We're gonna help you get as many damn touchdowns as possible, but after that? It's on you, bro. You gotta either kiss her or ask her out or whatever you're planning. You get me?"

Jisung nods rapidly, barely able to contain the massive grin on his face. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. I'm doing this!"

Felix and Seungmin clap him on the back, their laughter ringing out as they congratulate him, and Jeongin practically tackles him in excitement.

"That was sick, dude!" Jeongin says, beaming. "Now you just gotta keep this up!"

Chan and Hyunjin jog over, both of them holding out their hands for high fives, which Jisung meets eagerly.

"Keep that adrenaline up," Hyunjin says, smirking. "With this energy, asking her out's gonna be a piece of cake."

"Exactly," Chan says, nodding with a smile. "Now let's help our boy rack up some more scores. If we play this right, he'll be unstoppable tonight."

Jisung clenches his fists, adrenaline flooding his veins as he nods, ready to play his absolute best. The guys all gather around him, their energy infectious as they slap his back, hyping him up before heading back into position. He glances at the bleachers once more, catching your eye as you wave, still beaming with that warm, encouraging smile.

For the rest of the game, the team's strategy is clear: get Jisung every chance to score. Each play is practically engineered to put the ball in his hands, and every time he crosses the line, the crowd roars, sending chills down his spine. And each time, he looks to the bleachers, zeroing in on you. You're standing now, clapping with a bright smile that lights up your face, and to him, it's like the whole stadium fades away.

With every touchdown, his teammates swarm him, cheering, slapping his helmet, yelling about how "the Han touchdown train" can't be stopped tonight. It's like they're all rooting for him not just to win the game, but to win you over.

"Goddamn, you're on fire, Jisung!" Chan shouts, panting as he jogs up beside him after yet another touchdown.

"It's the magic of a girl in the stands," Felix laughs, throwing an arm around Jisung's shoulder. "You better keep this up, man. We've never seen you play this good."

Jisung laughs, breathless, catching his teammates' infectious energy. He glances over to see you clapping again, beaming at him, and for a second, he almost feels like he's floating.

Minho sidles up next to him, catching his breath. "You see her out there, dude? She's cheering just for you. You got this."

Jisung nods, wiping sweat off his brow, feeling a surge of confidence every time he catches your eye. Each touchdown fuels him more, and the team, sensing his determination, rallies around him.

They block defenders with brutal force, ploughing through lines to create space, and hand him the ball again and again, shouting encouragement at every opportunity.

With a little over two minutes left in the game, Chan calls a huddle, his voice rough but steady as he grins at the team. "Alright, let's make this one count. It's our last drive. Get Jisung the fucking ball."

The guys nod, all grins and fierce determination. As they take their positions, Jisung glances once more toward the bleachers. You're watching intently, eyes full of excitement, and it's like an invisible thread pulls him toward the end zone, knowing you'll be there cheering no matter what.

The play unfolds perfectly. Minho and Changbin block two defenders, Felix takes out another, and Jisung darts through the gap, sprinting toward the end zone. The crowd's roar is deafening as he makes the final dive, crossing the line with the ball firmly in his grip.

He stands up, triumphant, the thrill of the touchdown rippling through him, but what really makes his heart race is catching sight of you in the stands, clapping wildly, that same radiant smile on your face. He can barely contain his own grin as he raises a fist in the air, the cheers around him fading into the background as he locks eyes with you.

When his teammates reach him, they're laughing, shouting over each other's voices.

"You're a goddamn beast tonight, Han!" Seungmin yells, clapping him on the back.

Hyunjin smirks, holding up a hand for a high-five. "You'd better ask her out after this, because that was fucking legendary."

As the final whistle blows, signalling their victory, Jisung's teammates surround him, piling on congratulations, laughs, and relentless back pats.

The final whistle blows and the crowd erupts in cheers as the Miroh Maniacs celebrate their victory. The guys are all high-fiving and fist-pumping, adrenaline buzzing through their veins as they revel in the thrill of the win.

Jisung's heart is pounding, both from the game and from the sight of you at the edge of the field, clapping and smiling as you watch the team celebrate.

"Go get your '90s dream girl, Han," Minho says, slapping Jisung on the shoulder. There's a glint of mischief in his eye as he steps back, letting Jisung gather his courage.

Chan, ever the supportive captain, grins and shouts, "You've got this, Ji! Don't choke now!"

"Dude, you've been killing it all night," Hyunjin says, giving him an encouraging nod. "Time to wrap it up with a win off the field, too."

Felix and Jeongin clap him on the back, their voices blending into a jumble of encouragement and good-natured ribbing. Even Seungmin, who usually prefers to stay cool and unbothered, joins in with a smirk. "Don't overthink it, man. Just go."

Jisung takes a deep breath, feeling every bit of adrenaline pushing him forward as he steps toward you. The team's words echo in his mind, and he thinks, Fuck it. It's now or never.

You approach the group, looking radiant, your eyes bright with excitement as you clap for each of them. "Congratulations, you guys! That was seriously amazing!"

Jisung's heart nearly skips a beat as he takes in the sight of you, looking effortlessly beautiful even in the dim stadium lights. He's been imagining this moment all night, and without thinking, he steps forward, closing the distance between you.

And then, with a surge of confidence, he cups your face and kisses you, pouring everything he's been feeling into the moment. His heart's racing, but as soon as your lips meet, he feels that familiar thrill, the world fading out around him.

The team erupts into cheers and whistles behind him, and Jisung can't help but grin against your lips as he hears them hollering.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, still holding you close. Emboldened by the rush, he dips you back, his grin widening as the guys cheer even louder. Minho yells out over the noise, "Strawberries and heaven, my man! Your '90s dream girl right here!"

You laugh, your cheeks pink as you look up at Jisung, slightly dazed. "Wait. What?"

Jisung's face softens, his voice tender as he smiles down at you. "You. You smell like strawberries and heaven. And you're my '90s dream girl." And with that, he leans in and kisses you again, savouring the feeling, the cheers of his friends blending into the background.

When he finally lets go, Minho claps him on the back, looking comically emotional. "I feel so proud, honestly. I coached him through it all, stopped jerking it for him to gush about her. This is basically a win for me, too."

Chan laughs, shaking his head. "Minho, you sacrificed, my guy. I'm proud of you."

Felix raises an eyebrow, his expression teasing. "Seriously, though. I can't believe it took seven wingmen to make this happen."

Jisung rolls his eyes but laughs along, his arm still around you as he finally turns back to face his friends.

You smile up at him, still a little flushed but looking delighted. "So, what's the plan now?"

Jisung's eyes light up, his grin playful. "We're having a post-game party back at the frat house. You should come." He pauses, pretending to think. "I might even make you a cocktail as good as that caramel latte you liked."

"Oh, really?" you tease, raising an eyebrow. "Big talk, Han. Think you're up to it?"

"Pfft, please," Jisung says, flashing you a confident smirk. "Give me a real challenge."

You laugh, glancing back toward the bleachers. "Alright. I'll grab my things while you guys wrap up and shower. Don't keep me waiting."

You head back toward the stands, and as soon as you're out of earshot, Felix leans over, grinning. "Uh, Jisung, dude, you can't make cocktails to save your life."

Jisung's expression falters, but then he looks at Minho, a pleading glint in his eye. "Minho...?"

Minho lets out a long, dramatic sigh. "Fine. I'll make the fucking cocktail. But seriously, you owe me for this one."

Jisung's grin returns. "You're the best, man."

Minho smirks, crossing his arms. "Do you need me to teach you how to fuck her too?"

Jisung snorts, shooting him a playful glare before delivering a swift kick to Minho's ass. "Shut the fuck up, man."

The team laughs, their voices full of pride and joy as they head off the field, congratulating Jisung and slapping him on the back the whole way.