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#only the best for his baes you know you know!!!
f1daydreamers · 2 days
Text
𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔
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gif credits: @trenty
Pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x Fem!Reader
Summary: You’re a tease, asking for things you supposedly already have. Trent catches on... eventually.
A/N: This is my first social media AU so bear with me if it absolutely sucks, also my first time writing for Trent so a bunch of firsts going on today. Enjoy!
Warnings: not much, just a lot of fluff and shite captions lol
...
yourusername | 📍Venice, Italy
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tagged venice.explore and calvinklein
liked by yourbsf, calvinklein, and 17,786 others
yourusername can I call you later?
view all 2671 comments
user1 pretty ladyyyyyyy
calvinklein summer collection has never looked better 😍
— yourusername have never loved a black dress more
yourbsf photo creds and the second glass are all me.. right?
— yourusername ofc 😇
user2 omg i need to go to venice asap
user3 i thought you were in la this week for a photoshoot with hudabeauty??
— yourusername next week!! super excited omg 🩷
trentarnold66
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liked by liverpoolfc, andyrobertson94, and 946,716 others
trentarnold66 Recharging 🔋
view all 76,936 comments
andyrobertson94 Right, there’s no need to flex the arms 😒
— trentarnold66 I was just bending them? 🙃
liverpoolfc Back at camp soon ❤️
— trentarnold66 💪
user6 BYE TRENT FINALLY POSTED HOLIDAY PICS SO I CAN SLEEP NOW
user7 can you choke me with those arms thanks bae
— user8 so real 🤣
judebellingham No invite lad? I see how it is 🫤
— liked by trentarnold66
yourusername
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tagged hudabeauty, hudabeautyshop, and kayali
liked by hudabeauty, trentarnold66, and 30,651 others
yourusername Coming to you… July 👀
view all 9862 comments
yourbsf A DREAM IM SO PROUD OF YOU BABE
— yourusername i love you 🥹
user4 aaahhhhhhh this has been such a long time coming!!! remember ur youtube videos when u used to review their products?
— liked by trentarnold66
hudabeauty A literal real-life doll 😘
— yourusername says the literal makeup magician ❤️
user5 TRENT LIKED????
— user9 who’s that?
— user5 ONLY THE BEST RB IN THE WORLD WHAT
trentarnold66
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liked by liverpoolfc, yourusername, and 976,816 others
trentarnold66 Singapore 🇸🇬 Feels real good to be back.
view all 126,625 comments
liverpoolfc What’s up, Vice Captain? 💪
— trentarnold66 🫡
user10 liverpool’s very own ❤️
yourusername damn.
— liked by trentarnold66
virgilvandijk Let’s get it!
user5 OMGGG THEYRE DEFO DATINGGG WAIT
user12 don’t know who yourusername is but she’s verified and trent liked her most recent post now she’s commented on his???? i smell a new couple 👀
yourusername | 📍 Liverpool
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tagged liverpoolfc
liked by trentarnold66, harvelliott, and 29,872 others
yourusername bleeding red today, bleeding red everyday
view all 11,463 comments
user12 she does know trent’s mural is literally opposite hendo’s right? 🧐
— liked by yourusername
— user12 OMG SHE LIKED MY COMMENTTTT
harvelliott love it 🌹
— user5 DUDE WHO IS THIS GIRL DATING OMFHDJSJSE
trentarnold66 Hmm
— harvelliott 😂
yourbsf fit went hard.
— yourusername not everyone’s agreeing w u 😒
— yourbsf you mean….
— yourusername shh
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trentarnold66
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liked by judebellingham, liverpoolfc, and 817,625 others
trentarnold66 Skipper today but winning in front of you is the best part ❤️🏟️
view all 262,527 comments
user5 IS HE TALKING ABOUT YOURUSERNAME
— user13 bro you lot reach sm wtff he’s obviously talking about the fans lmao they played at home today
judebellingham serious player
— liked by trentarnold66
yourusername should I say congrats?
— trentarnold66 Only if you’ve changed shirts
— yourusername so take off yours then
— liked by trentarnold66
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yourusername
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liked by yourbsf, trentarnold66, and 96,726 others
yourusername my mom approves
view all 70,637 comments
user5 I CALLED IT FROM THE START YESSSSHDHDHSHSHHS YALL ARE SO CUTE
yourbsf ok trying to convince ppl that i’m the other one in ur pics is getting harder and harder to do
— yourusername 😂😂
trentarnold66 Shirt’s all yours
— yourusername took you long enough
— trentarnold66 I got there in the end 🙂
yoursister does that mean I get to keep Harvey's shirt now?
— yourusername i bet you've already taken it anyway
— yoursister if I speak I’m in big trouble
trentarnold66
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tagged yourusername
liked by yourusername, andyrobertson94, and 1.2 million others
trentarnold66 Dear Darling ❤️
andyrobertson94 Congrats Brother 🫂
— liked by trentarnold66
yourusername should’ve posted the pic where you were preeing my old yt vids
— trentarnold66 I don’t recall that 🤨
— yourusername little liar
— trentarnold66 Little? Who’s the liar now?
— user12 YALL ARE SOOOOOOOO
user5 I WANT MY FINDERS FEE 👩‍⚖️
harvelliott Beautiful 🤩
Masterlist
120 notes · View notes
furuyalover · 2 days
Note
Hey bae! Can I request the song Something Stupid by Frank Sinatra, with any of the Haikyuu boys for your music event? - 🫧
somethin’ stupid | mars & her music event
"and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like 'i love you'"
— ft. iwaizumi hajime
AN: tysm for ur request! this was so much fun to write & ty for joining my event! for any readers int in participating, more info ab it here ! also this is on the longer side so cozy up, & get ready for some iwa fluff
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"i know i stand in line, until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me..."
you were at a semi-formal event put on by your school, aoba johsai. despite the amount of people there, the ballroom in which the ball took place had a tranquil atmosphere. seeing your classmates in an elegant manner, looking at some of them and thinking oh wow they clean up nice, it was a rather lovely change of pace. however, only one student in particular really caught your eye. that student, of course, was the one and only, iwaizumi hajime.
he looked radiant. you've really never seen him in anything outside of his school and volleyball uniforms, so he was really a sight for sore eyes. the suit he wore was well-tailored, but you could still make out the defined muscles on his biceps. he was so elegant and well mannered in this setting, and it certainly helped that his best friend sitting next to him was being as obnoxious as usual, making iwaizumi's polished manner even more apparent,
hajime also had his eyes set on someone, you. he only ever sees you at school, in your required uniforms, so he was stricken with adornment when he saw you tonight. he had always admired you, had even a secret crush on you, (which of course was obvious to the whole volleyball team based off how much he mentions you) seeing you dressed so lovely, and looking even more beautiful than usual, how could he not gaze at you like that? but when he saw you being approached by other students, telling you how gorgeous you looked, his insecurities got the best of him. why should i even try? they already have all these other guys romancing them, i wouldn't even stand a chance, he would mumble to himself. oh how little the boy knows..
"i practice everyday to find some clever lines to make the meaning come through. but then i think i'll wait til the evening gets late, and i'm alone with you..."
after talking it over with his best friend who sat beside him, tooru oikawa, he decided to just say screw it and muster up enough courage to talk to you. he & oikawa practiced exactly what he's going to say to you, since tonight will be the night he finally confesses to you. after ensuring that his words will be perfect, he gathers all his confidence to get up, and begin walking to where you're standing & talking to a few classmates.
"the time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue"
he slowly makes his way over to you, being sure that you aren't talking to anyone by the time he approaches you. everything is gonna go perfectly, he'll have the perfect moment to tell what he's been feeling all these months.
after finishing some conversations with friends, out of the corner of your eye you see a familiar face walking towards you. is iwaizumi really coming over here? oh my god this is really happening, shit i hope i look okay. you frantically pat down your hair and clothes, to make sure you hopefully look perfect by the time iwa sees you. when he finally gets to you, you notice something about him is different. he seems more reserved than usual, almost seemingly shy?
"iwaizumi! i didn't know if you were gonna make it today, great to see you!" you say smiling like an idiot. "please, call me hajime. great to see you too, you look stunning." flustered by his affection, you look down smiling to hide your beet red face. hajime is hit with relief because now you hopefully won't see how red he is himself. "hey don't wanna sound weird or anything, but would you wanna step outside with me for a sec? there's something i need to get off my chest." your eyes widened, nervous at what he could possibly have to say. but regardless you nod in agreement as he takes you outside.
the two of you gaze out to the sky, on the balcony just outside the venue of the formal, in partially comfortable partially awkward silence. "so, um, what was it you wanted to say?" you nervously ask to try and break the ever so loud silence. fuck. iwaizumi thought. all his practice with oikawa? yea, that all went out the window because suddenly his mind is going a million miles per minute. he has so many thoughts running through his head, but he just can't seem to find the words, nor the confidence, to voice them. but before you know, the stern and intimidating volleyball player you're used to turns into a rambling mess.
"and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, 'i love you'..."
"i don't really know how to say this, but fuck it i'll just try" he starts. you take a step back to look at him, a little confused, but waiting to hear the rest. "y/n, i really like, maybe even love you. i don't know, i'm bad with feelings, but i do know that you're all i think about. i never shut up about you, and i think you're the most perfect person put on this earth. i know i'm not oikawa, and that you probably have tons of other guys who want you and i probably sound stupid but i jus-" he stops suddenly when realized that you've wrapped your arms around him and engulfed him in a hug. after hesitantly wrapping his muscular arms around you, he relaxes a bit more, and eases into your touch.
with the side of your face resting on his chest, you look up at him beaming. both of you blushing profusely, but neither of you pay any attention to that. after a moment of just staring at each other, you finally say with a smile "you are kinda stupid hajime, i like you too, maybe even love also. i don't know how you haven't picked up on that yet" this just makes iwaizumi pull you in tighter, it feels like all his dreams had just came true.
"oh my god he finally did it" "god it's about time" oikawa and hanamaki groan to each other. yes they watched this whole thing go down for a comfortable distance, partially to make fun of him but also just to support their close friend from afar
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reblogs appreciated and admired ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა
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diorsluv · 7 hours
Text
casual , part 9
“ i have anger issues ”
series m. list previous chapter
( socialmedia!au )
yourusername
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liked by jackhughes, edwards.73, and 154,238 others
yourusername hughes-a-palooza ⁉️
tagged: lhughes_06, jackhughes, _quinnhughes
view all comments
username58 WE NEED WEEKLY HUGHES A PALOOZA POSTS
→ yourusername idk about weekly bae..
→ username47 at least monthly please 😭😭 yourusername
colecaufield quinn?!?!?!
→ _quinnhughes oh god
→ yourusername LMFAOOO
→ trevorzegras more blackmail 😈
_quinnhughes mom didn’t let you and luke sit together on planes for a reason
→ yourusername i accidentally spill coffee on him once and then all of a sudden i’m banned from sitting next to him 😔
→ lhughes_06 it was not an accident.
→ yourusername YES IT WAS??
→ jackhughes rosie i watched you PICK THE CUP UP and pour it on his lap
→ yourusername I LIE ABOUT A TON OF SHIT BUT I NEVER DID THAT????
→ _quinnhughes wtf no she just separated you because you were annoying as hell
→ lhughes_06 oh
→ yourusername erm…
username32 STOP the toy story costumes are too adorable
username77 BABY QUINN
username91 omg i need to see all the baby photo albums right now
adamfantilli so when were you gonna tell me you’ve been cosplaying since you were 3
→ yourusername it’s called dressing up for halloween 😐😐
→ adamfantilli which is technically cosplaying
→ luca.fantilli bro why are you so obsessed with cosplaying
→ rutgermcgroarty do you have something you wanna tell us adam???
→ adamfantilli 🤐
→ g.brindley4 is that why i found a red and white wig in your closet the other day??
→ yourusername MY HERO COSPLAY?? 😭
→ markestapa todoroki cosplay is insane
vivianliu ADORABLE ADORABLEEE
→ yourusername 🫶
edwards.73 the costumes r cute
→ yourusername you seem super thrilled!!!!
→ edwards.73 cuz they’re cute but you’re cuter
→ yourusername oh 😨
→ markestapa this is quite public if i do say so myself
→ lhughes_06 🤢🤢
→ mackie.samo i actually threw up reading this
→ edwards.73 mackie you’re quite literally sick right now
username85 i want my kids to be like this
username13 jim n ellen got us with the good pics ‼️
_alexturcotte did you and jack always match costumes??
→ yourusername our mom switched it every year but jack was the best costume twin 😔😔
→ _quinnhughes okay our lorax and onceler costume was good though
→ yourusername …….no!
→ colecaufield who was the lorax???
→ yourusername take a wild guess 😑
→ _quinnhughes you lost rock paper scissors fair and square yourusername
username68 BABY HUGHES PICS ALERT 🚨🚨🚨
dylanduke25 i like how you and quinn NEVER have pics together
→ yourusername i have yet to find a picture of only us in an old photo
username49 WOODY AND JESSIE AHHH
rutgermcgroarty when will you post the pics of us 😔
→ yourusername rut sweetie they’re my BROTHERS i have to post them occasionally
→ yourusername and also i just posted us???
→ rutgermcgroarty you have an entire album of us.
→ yourusername i have one for vivi too and i barely post me and her 😰😰
→ rutgermcgroarty SIX. HUNDRED. PHOTOS.
→ mackie.samo 600????
→ rutgermcgroarty 694 to be exact 😒
→ markestapa SO BASICALLY 700?!?!?!?!
→ colecaufield what happened to the other boyfriend
→ dylanduke25 yk rosie if i didn’t know who your not-boyfriend is, i would think it was rut
→ rutgermcgroarty ..duker that’s not a good thing
→ dylanduke25 i know
username62 i will be dressing my children up in toy story costumes thank you.
markestapa i’ve never heard him scream in agony so loudly before
→ yourusername wait what??? what happened to him
→ markestapa you and your little “best friend”
→ yourusername WE’RE JUST BEST FRIENDS THO
→ rutgermcgroarty yeah that’s all there is
yourusername
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liked by _alexturcotte, luca.fantilli, and 97,255 others
yourusername went on a cooking rampage tn 🫢
view all comments
edwards.73 that food looks pretty good im not gonna lie
→ yourusername yeah this random guy made it for me
→ edwards.73 random???
→ yourusername mhm it was so weird.. he had the key to my apartment and everything
→ edwards.73 man i think that’s pretty unsafe rosie
→ yourusername it’s okay tho i thought he was cute so i let him stay ☺️
→ edwards.73 oh 😳
luca.fantilli LET HER COOK 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
→ yourusername aaaaaand you’re blocked
→ markestapa LET HER COOK 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
→ rutgermcgroarty LET HER COOK 😝😝😝😝😝😝
→ dylanduke25 LET HER COOK 😈😈😈😈😈😈
→ mackie.samo LET HER COOK 😼😼😼😼😼😼
→ yourusername you’re all HORRIBLE
→ luca.fantilli 😘
→ markestapa 😘😘
→ rutgermcgroarty 😘😘😘
→ dylanduke25 😘😘😘😘
→ mackie.samo 😘😘😘😘😘
trevorzegras goddamn big back lemme have some
→ yourusername ⁉️⁉️⁉️
→ jackhughes u just got clipped bro
→ _quinnhughes 📸
username75 is that… HIM??
username90 bae stop actin like you don’t know we know it’s ethan
username23 AWW cooking date so cute
_alexturcotte oh are those brownies for me 😁
→ yourusername you n trev r always trying to steal my food bro 😒😒
→ _alexturcotte what can i say ur a good cook
→ yourusername U CALLED MY PASTA SHIT
username6 stop the plating is so gourmet
colecaufield you and luke’s gf are like the same person
→ yourusername LUKE??? GF???? WHENNNNN?????? lhughes_06
→ lhughes_06 thanks a lot cole
→ yourusername EXPLAIN
→ jackhughes you know her veeeeeery well
→ yourusername VIVIAN?!?!?!
→ vivianliu oh god no 😭😭
username44 cole’s stirring up the family drama
username19 damnn those cookies r looking good girl
→ yourusername i tried to perfect my recipe 😈
rutgermcgroarty name drop the guy rn
→ yourusername dude ur acting like ur the one in the pics 🙄🙄
→ rutgermcgroarty who said i wasnt
→ yourusername i did.
→ lhughes_06 is this supposed to be a tactic to confuse everyone
→ rutgermcgroarty we’ll never know 🤫
mackie.samo when was the last time you willingly ate pizza
→ yourusername tonight 😐
→ mackie.samo because he made you do it……… right??
→ yourusername NO he just wanted to do it so i did
adamfantilli wtf rosie i just looked at the boys gc and hes literally obsessed with you
→ yourusername um 😃
→ adamfantilli NOT LIKE THAT
→ adamfantilli but he’s just being a big pussy rn
→ yourusername that’s what they’re all saying 🙄🙄
→ edwards.73 DUDE you gotta stop leaking the gc convos
→ luca.fantilli fr it’s unacceptable
→ yourusername stfu luca u sent me screenshots like two days ago
→ rutgermcgroarty TRAITOR luca.fantilli
→ yourusername and u just gave me ur phone to scroll through rutgermcgroarty
→ mackie.samo as the spokesperson i’d like to say we’re kicking u all out
→ adamfantilli NO PLEASE
→ rutgermcgroarty WE’LL DO ANYTHING
→ luca.fantilli WAIT PLEASE FORGIVE US
_quinnhughes so as your older brother it’s my job to steal your food
→ yourusername 🫤
→ _quinnhughes and we’re playing the wings tomorrow so i will be stopping by and stealing half the stuff in your fridge
→ yourusername thanks for the warning asshole
→ _quinnhughes any time u little shit
→ jackhughes hey that was my nickname for her 😞
→ lhughes_06 i thought i was the little shit????
→ vivianliu how did you guys manage to go from posting each other to arguing over who was the little shit 😭😭
username7 forearms 😵‍💫😵‍💫
liked by yourusername
username30 get urself a man who will have cooking dates with u 🙌
lhughes_06 u make enough food to feed the entire family
→ yourusername mom taught me well 🤗
→ lhughes_06 but u literally never fed me when we lived together??
→ yourusername yes. i. did.
→ jackhughes lukey says u “NEVERRRR” fed him
→ yourusername HOW DO U THINK HE GOT SO FUCKING TALL
→ _quinnhughes mom and dads genes
→ yourusername bc i’ve been feeding him HALF of my food every time he walked into the damn room
→ yourusername SINCE WE WERE 14
→ jackhughes ur not wrong
→ yourusername no shit
username13 girlll im tryna cook like u
username9 cutiessss 💕
username27 babe ima need u to hard launch alreadyyy
vivianliu rosie.
→ yourusername vivi.
→ vivianliu i know you cook and bake when you’re stressed or anxious
→ yourusername whatttt no
→ vivianliu is it about him 🤨
→ yourusername no!
→ vivianliu mmmmmkay
notes ) she’s a bit of a short one BUT HERES TO THE STARS’ SATURDAY NIGHT WIN AND THE WIN FROM TN ‼️ the stress was fucking insane and my heart was BEATING but we did it 🙏 a celebratory chapter if you will
tags: @dancerbailey3 @hughesfein @loveforaugust @alwaysclassyeagle @love4ldr @inhoodmood @bunting58 @crazycat-ladys-blog @smoooore @bunbunbl0gs @lilasianmeat
68 notes · View notes
old-lorarri · 2 months
Text
꒰꒰‧₊˚𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 ─ 𝐉𝐁𝟓 ˚₊· ꒱꒱
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─ summary . . . ❨ the daughter of lewis hamilton and a 3 time f1 world champion life is pretty great especially now that you have found a special someone ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ jude bellingham x fem! hamilton! redbull! f1 driver! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . ❨ okay so I got this idea like a year ago and I have now finally gotten time to make it happen so enjoy! ❩
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❨ taglist | masterlist ❩
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yourinstagram . 4hrs ago
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seen by lewishamilton judebellingham 76,389,589 others
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yourinstagram
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liked by lewishamilton judebellingham 102,890,199 others
yourinstagram winter break photodump pt. 5
view comments
user my wife is a madrid...I don't know what to do with why self now
user stay away from my wifey mr. hey jude lookin ass
user MR BELLINGHAM WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE
user it couple is cookin ya'll
user love that mother is living her best life
user bae wake up Y/N posted a winter break photo dump
user OKAY BUT THAT LAST PIC EXCUSE ME?!?!?!
user madam who got you those flowers
user jude better be careful or papa hamilton gonna have his head if he even thinks about trying anything with his daughter
user why am I kinda living from the idea of these two being a couple
user are you dating jude?
user Y/N come home the kids miss you
user 4th wdc pending...
user so we all know who the guy in the last slide is right?
user love my soon to be parents
user the queen soft launching wasn't on my 2024 bingo card
view more comments
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TRENTSKI
JUDITH
EXPLAIN YOUR SELF
JUDITH
huh?
RICE RICE BABY
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did you really think you could sneek your way into Y/N Hamilton's ig dump and we wouldn't find out?
JUDITH
yes?
SANCHOOOO
SO YOU ADMIT IT
IT IS YOU
MEEK MEALS
glad you finally got together
I was getting sick and tired of you talking about her 24/7
JACK RABBIT
I'm surprised he even got the strength to talk to her
STAR BOY
right?
his brain normally turns to mush when ever her name is mentioned
proud of you bro
JUDITH
thx kyo
I always knew you were a real one
TRENTSKI
damn I see how it is then....
RICE RICE BABY
trents going dark lads
in his sad girl era
PHIL CHEESE STAKE
so wait who knows about you 2 being together?
SANCHOOOO
besides the entire intent after that photo dump?
MEEK MEALS
LMFAOOO
STAR BOY
tell lewis he's the goat
JUDITH
hahah funny
let us have our damatic soft launch
obvi you guys know
the only others that know are max, sebastian, and charles
I'll let lewis know when he figures out I'm dating his daughter this Saturday
JACK RABBIT
mate your fucked
TRENTSKI
DAMN
secret forbbiden romance
didn't know you were built like that jude
MEEK MEALS
what do you mean Lewis fucking Hamilton doesn't know you are dating HIS DAUGHTER
SANCHOOOO
pray for jude guys
these might be his last days with us
STAR BOY
he shall be missed
JACK RABBIT
dw jude I'll delete your search history of you stalking Y/N's ig and twitter
JUDITH
thanks guys...
wiss me luck
TRENTSKI
break a leg
RICE RICE BABY
don't die
MEEK MEALS
good luck
SANCHOOOO
you going to die
STAR BOY
what colour coffin do you want?
I'm thinking bright pink and rinestones
JACK RABBIT
do you need a get away driver?
PHIL CHEESE STAKE
before you die get me and ronnie a hat singed by Y/N and Lewis
JUDITH
I feel so loved rn
yourinstagram . 4hrs ago
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seen by lewishamilton maxverstappen1 98,328,479 others
lewishamilton replied to your story!
he's a good lad
but if he hurt's you
winning a trohpy will be the last of his concern
okay dad I'll relay that message to him
good
also don't forget to use projection...
DAD OMG STOP
carlossainz55 replied to your story!
¡HALA MADRID!
maxverstappen1 replied to your story!
Christian is asking if Jude wants to come to the team dinner before the livery launch?
also if he hurts you I will run him over with our matching aston martins
landonorris replied to your story!
what does he smell like?
1K notes · View notes
godnectar · 8 months
Note
Yandere himbo? >:)
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・✶ 。゚𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐎 ;
cw: toxic behavior, bae's hot, oblivious and delusional asf, kinda manipulative, jealousy, violence, guilt tripping,,,, justifications + probably a big ass etc. ( inbox )
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𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who possesses a genuinely warm and friendly demeanor that, along with his looks, easily draws people to him. the pure, charming, and easygoing smile he usually wears making it extremely hard for others to suspect anything about his hidden, darker tendencies — reason why you didn't really made a big deal out of his sudden but innocent looking crush towards you and just felt flattered.
𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO whose loyalty absolutely knows no bounds once you two got together after countless of sweet, sincere compliments, some appealing winks, and a few wholesome dates. he's hopelessly devoted to you, willing to go to extreme lengths to ensure his darling's happiness and safety twenty-four seven.
𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who's cheerful facade is fast to crumble the next second he perceives someone as a threat to your lovely, fairy tale looking relationship, no matter if it's because of one of your friends getting to touchy or just one of your relatives making a disapproving comment about your choice of a partner. even though, he's also quick to apologize whenever you get mad as the familiar, beefy arms that hold you at night get covered with scratches after he holds your acquaintances in a chokehold deep inside an alley hours prior. unsurprisingly, guilt overcomes you as soon as you glance at his pouty lips and furrowed eyebrows, pained by your anger over his instinctive jealousy.
𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who as much as he lacks intelligence, probably also lacks comprehension for his actions' severity most of the time, leading him to justify some disturbing things such as his hostility, surveillance and obsessive keepsakes by saying it all comes from his undying love towards you, the light of his eyes.
𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who genuinely thinks there's nothing wrong with what he does. sure, he might not be the brightest bulb in the box, nor the man with the healthiest mental state you'll meet — the latter being pretty noticeable, especially when you catch on the fearful stares some people send among all the praising others unawarely give — but at least he's trying his best at showing you that his... heart throbs only for his sweetling, right?
𖣠 YANDERE HIMBO who desires with all his heart for you to be as head over heels for him as he is for you, never giving up on trying to make you let down all of your guards to share his innermost yearns, fantasizing about an intense, exclusive and unique connection between you two where both seek to become the other's one and only.
"tell me how much you love me, my dear. need to hear you saying there's absolutely no one in your heart but me."
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© godnectar 2023. please do not modify, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my permission.
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mariahcarreyyy · 3 months
Note
currently thinking more abt possessive!lando. wondering what the reactions of the grid would be to see his partner covered in marks, or i guess the first reaction to seeing it for the first time.
i think daniel & carlos would have a FIELD DAY w/ lando LMAO. i also think lewis would tease him abt it too.
hope the finals are going well bae 😩 stick in there!!
also random question: have u seen saltburn LMAO???
— ❄️❄️
p.s. finals are OVERRRR🎉🎉🥳 thank you bae p.p.s. i have. i went into that movie not knowing ANYTHING abt it and lemme tell u nothing was pretty (other than jacob elordi's face) nsfw 18+ under beware⬇️⬇️
When the paddock first witnessed the prominent red hickeys on your neck, it had been at one of the hotter grand prix's. You'd been sweating profusely, moisture forming on the parts of your body you didn't even know could sweat until you'd decided you'd had enough. You had taken off your pink turtleneck—a rookie mistake.
"goddamn, y/n, you getting mauled by a bear behind closed doors?" Daniel guffaws from beside you, a hearty laugh slipping past his lips because ofcourse it does. Shit. Your hands fly up and you attempt to cover the expanse of your neck. Because, when I say Lando marks you everywhere, he truly does. With no shame. A pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist from behind you, and Lando has the fucking audacity to sink his teeth into your exposed shoulder. "finished my media duties, baby, what's goin' on here?" Your boyfriend's former teammate only smiles suggestively and jokes while motioning towards your tainted neck, "just wondering if y/n's dating you or a werewolf." Lando grins. Good, Lan beams internally, that's how it should be. You dating him. You being his. All his, forever.
Carlos had been standing beside you and Lando through this interaction and muttered an empathetic, 'ay, lando, give her neck mercy, you animal' because he was not a stranger to this. The brit was his best friend on the grid and the person he'd spend the most time with, so he was aware that Lan had this possessive tendency. Hell, he was more than aware. If you were in close proximity to Lando, you best believe his lips were on you in any way possible. The spaniard couldn't count on one hand how many times he'd have to talk to Lando while the latter was licking, biting, sucking at your neck and jaw.
It was safe to say that the color of your cheeks rivals that of your turtleneck now.
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thesturniolos · 4 months
Text
guilty pleasures (part 1 )
m. sturniolo x reader
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authors note: this picture is actually sickening, need him too bad 🤞
this is all creds to my bae @iheartchrissturniolo thanks for the idea hun < 3 (part 2 including your idea yet to come)
summary: matt has a bit of a crush on his best friend, he’s fantasising ;)
warnings: smut, swearing !!
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
she looked heavenly by the pool today, irresistible to the point where my heart ached. i knew i couldn’t have her, i’ve only been reminding myself everyday for the past 6 years and it’s agonising.
the way the droplets of water fell off her golden skin, the bikini that accentuated her curves, oh so perfectly. and knowing i chose it for her was like the cherry on top of the cake. blue- my favourite colour - and hell she knew it when she bought it, she even told me. “i wonder why you picked this one” i remember her slight giggle after she said it, voice like silk, one that plays in my head at night.
she drags her hand through her hair, shaking it a little to get rid of the water, and boy do i wish it was me doing that. for me to be the one to look after her, to do the small things that weren’t so small to me. her eyes are closed and even though she’s been in the water, her makeup remained flawless - not that she needed it, she was absolutely gorgeous with and without.
she didn’t think this however, always telling me how she wishes she looked like anybody else. if she could only see what i see, just for a second, she’d never think that again. she’s better than any supermodel, the ‘prettiest of girls’ according to society weren’t a touch on her. plus, they didn’t come with her personality- she’s a real life angel and i’ve been blessed with even being in her presence.
i would spend every minute and every hour of my day telling her every little thing i love about her from the colour of her nails to the shape of her lips, i don’t care about the dents in her thighs or the stretch marks on her stomach, she’s perfect.
she’s walking closer to me with an arm outstretched, my eyes landing on the matching tattoo she has with me and i smile. i sometimes forget we had that done, which almost instantly brings me back to reality that she is and always will just be my best friend. i cannot afford to lose someone as special as her which is why i have to push those feelings to the side, as much as we want to be free.
her being so close to me and looking at me with those eyes, dark eyes that could mean so many things, made my cheeks blush the slightest red and i become desperate to hide this. what kind of friend blushes like a crazed guy in love when they look at them? it’s just a look, god.
“you got a towel?” there was that voice again, a voice i wish was in my ear forever. it wasn’t high - pitched nor was it deep, it was just in the middle, soothing. reminds me of the times where she held me whilst i cried, the bestest friend there is. reminds me of when she was so utterly drunk and slurring over her words, what was it again?
 ╭┈┈┈┈╮
“matt” she prods at my arm, waking me up.
“wassup” she frowns looking at my tired state, moving her hand to push hair out of my eyes.
“i’ve got a secret” i frown now, it’s 3am goddamn.
“what’s that”
“you promise you won’t tell anyone?” those little doe eyes drive me crazy, keep looking at me like that and i’ll have an accident.
“i promise” she leans in closer to my ear, her hot breath on my skin.
“i had a dream about you the other day” now i’ve piped up. i don’t care about the time or the sleep in my eyes, she fucking dreamt about me, i’m wide awake.
“oh yeah? good or bad?”
“depends”
“what’d you mean, depends?” once again, driving me crazy. she just knows how to do it.
“well, it depends how you take it.”
“go on.” i’m begging for this now, i need to know what the fuck happened, it’s killing me.
“well, we were doing something,” she twirls my hair in her hand, not looking me in the eyes yet all i can focus on is her and her words. “something best friends don’t do.”
“like what?”
“fucking.”
╰┈┈┈┈╯
held a chokehold over me. every night when i got in to bed i imagined her sleepy self, squirming about in her sheets to the idea of me pounding into her. suddenly i didn’t feel so bad about the hundreds of wet dreams i’ve had ‘bout her, we’re even.
but it only made me more delusional that we could actually be something. she was drunk and it was a dream, i was being dramatic if i thought it was actually something.
“yeah, it’s just there.” i say, pointing to the floor. she bends down to pick it up and i get the best sight of her boobs, pressed against the fabric of her bikini, pushed together ever so slightly. they looked so smooth, so pretty. something i just couldn’t take my eyes off..
“hello? matt?” she swipes her hand in front of my face and i’m so utterly embarrassed, knowing i’d been fixated on her tits. what an assy thing to do, how do i even begin to explain something like that?
“i- uh- i’m sorry! i wasn’t-“ she smiles at me and reaches out to scruff my hair, once again her boobs being directly in my face. is she doing this on purpose? because i’m about to cum in my pants.
“i take it you just really like your choice of bikini, hm?” she laughs, moving the towel to rest it on her hip as she turns around and struts off towards our house. she fucking knows what she does, not just to me but everyone.
i’ve been ignoring the poking in my pants for a while but it’s more prominent then ever now and i need to do something about it or i’m gonna come undone right here right now. it might be pervy but i quite literally cannot be around her when she’s close to naked, my mind travels to the dirtiest of places and to be honest, i’m careless.
if she’s going to act so calm about riling me up like that, then i’m gonna embrace the way she makes me feel. how she makes my cheeks hot and the wet patch that forms in my boxers when she whispers in my ear or now, shoving her boobs in my face.
praying that my jeans cover my painfully obvious hard-on, i quickly walk into the house, making a bee line for my bedroom, desperate to do something about what was happening in my pants.
“you okay, matt?” shes looking at me with a frown, the towel in her hair now as she begins to dry it, still wearing that flattering bikini that is just about to tip me over the edge.
“mhm, i- um, just need to do something.” i look around to see if my brothers are anywhere to be seen, something to distract me from this conversation, i so desperately need to get to that bedroom.
“oh? why’d you look so flustered?” she says with a smug, little smile.
“no reason. i just- i just need a second.” i go to walk away. as much as i would love to stay and talk, right now that is not what i need.
“need my help?”
tags: @strniohoeee @sturnsbaby @sturniolopepsi @malsturns @mattslolita @mattitties @mattsbratt @mattsturniolos @mattsturniolosgf @chrisdevora @christinarowie332 @chrisolivia4l @ilovemattsturn @sturniolossmut @sturnioloswife @sturniolosstar @freshlovehacker @kirby0strombolli @recklesssturniolo @lovingmattysposts @oversturn @ilovemattsturn @urfavstromboli @estelleswrld @strawberrysturniolo @dailysturniolo @deatthmatch @hoesformatt @justangelheree @klarasmith @kvtie444 @cabincorematt @caitifilms @bluesturniolo333 @mattsturnioloswattpad
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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months
Note
BAE LISTEN!!!
konig fucks his little wifey in front of his friends to show off and illustrates to make their wives happy? Like the wife is SO SO shy and submissive, trying to tell her husband to stop and covers her body but ofc konig is in control and fucks her anyways <3
Krueger likes visiting Konig. His best friend, his battle brother, his unrelated family member. His wife is nice too, for a dumb fucking thing that is just stupid enough to get on with a man like Konig, but the thing he loves the most about visiting their house is the face Horangi makes every time Konig fucks you in front of them and a few other friends. It's fucking obvious that the man is into it - and that he hates the way your moans and little whimpers make him feel. You're so so shy, such a good girl, you should never be with a man like Konig, you're too good for him and for his friends - but of course, he already has you tied up to him so firmly, you can't really say anything when he flips over your skirt(easy access is key, and you're ashamed to admit you weren't wearing panties that morning) and pushes dis dick in your already soaked folds. You're getting off being so embarrassed - you're practically dropping, don't require any preparation even for his large cock, and you clearly enjoy the way Horangi whispers curses under his breath as he palms himself through his pants, hating every second of opening this new kink of his. It's a power move for Konig. The colonel saw the way his friends were looking at his wife, and he took this opportunity of a nice dinner with his Kortac mates to establish domination among the group. Only he can make you moan like that, his cock is the only thing on your empty, silly mind, and you would never like anyone just like him. Such a good girl for him - he knows you'd beg him for a second round once he stuffs you full with his cum and makes you lay on the dinner table, Krueger already having half a mind of just asking for you to be a desert.
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ghostfacd · 5 months
Text
I’D BE THE MAN. | TOM BLYTH
pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
summary. in which yn receives an unbelievable amount of hate, but she knows that if it were the other way around and she was a guy, they would praise her for being “the man”
installment of this au | read it for context!
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ynuser tsitp behind the scenes!! 💌 sean and chris thought it was soooo funny to carry me at random times (thanks guys! very steven and conrad of you) 🤨🤨
tagged @/sean.kauf, @/chrisbriney_, @/thesummeriturnedpretty
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user1 anyone lwk think she’s a slut lol
➥ user2 no bae you’re so right cus why is she letting 2 different guys carry her when she’s literally dating tom
➥ user1 LMAOO real shes so ungrateful, if tom was my bf, i wouldn’t be around other guys
➥ user3 it’s literally?? for?? her?? work?? are you guys deluded, hating on successful women is crazy
➥ user 4 last time I checked, working does not = to whoring yourself with other guys
sean.kauf not our fault you’re easy to carry miss ella fisher
chrisbriney_ fave part of working on set is carrying u and hearing u scream
➥ user5 EVILLL
user6 the way she isn’t even replying to her cast mates are crazy, wake up! you’re not that famous
➥ user7 tbosas being #1 for movies says otherwise but ok!
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tomblyth YN!!! My sweet, funny, and incredibly talented girl, congratulations for all you have accomplished. It’s been so much fun with you on the set of TBOSAS, and it’s been absolutely even more endearing to sit behind the scenes and watch you act for TSITP!! Ella Fisher is my favorite Fisher anyways :’)
tagged @/ynuser
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ynuser TOM!! I love you.
➥ user8 only 4 words? oh she hates him 😭
➥ user9 when you would die for tom blyth to post you but y/n avocot doesn’t gaf when he posts her
➥ user10 literally not true? i’m sure she just doesn’t wanna put everything online, we can all tell that she loves him
rachelzegler you guys are the cutest!
➥ user11 is yn holding you hostage??
sean.kauf always love having you on set man
➥ user12 yn’s bf vs yn’s side guy LOL
➥ user13 knock it off, i bet tom wouldn’t like his “fans” disrespecting his gf and her cast members
user14 she never posts him istg this is so one sided
user15 she’s lucky she’s pretty cause she can’t act or sing for the life of her
➥ user16 not even pretty LOLLL
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ynuser since everyone thinks i’m so ungrateful, TOM!!! Thank you for always being there for me and comforting me when i’m sad. You’re my best friend and the best boyfriend I could ask for. I love you my love.
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user17 LMAOO yn called y’all out!
tomblyth i love you in every universe, the haters are LAMEEE!!
➥ user18 YOU TELL THEM TOM
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VOGUE New Interview And Photo Shoot With New Star Y/N Avocot OUT NOW! The New Actress And Rising Music Star Shares Her Recent Favorite Song — “The Man” By Taylor Swift!
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user19 the man by taylor oml she’s going through it
user20 idk how anyone could hate her, she’s so sweet and gorgeous
user21 miserable ppl on the internet after hating on a girl for no reason other than that she’s close to her cast members
ynuser thank you for having me Vogue!
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ynuser if i was a man, then’d i’d be the man!
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iloveyn PURRR YN I LOVE UUUU
tomblyth hell ya u would
sean.kauf queen i miss u, come back to film szn 2
➥ bellyconklinsgf WAIT SZN 2???
➥ sean.kauf oh shit..
➥ ynuser HAHA SEAN THE DIRECTOR AND JENNY HAN ARE GONBA KILL U
user22 so she replies to sean but not tom?? 🤡
➥ user23 LET IT GOOOOOO
user24 i love to see successful women not letting haters tear them down
user25 we love you yn!!!
rachelzegler ID BE THE MAAAAANNNN
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lewisvinga · 6 days
Text
ariel ! | charles leclerc x fem! reader
summary; in which charles leclerc gets the real life version of his favorite disney princess
fc; halle bailey
warnings; ?
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03
note; my requests are closed. requested ! icl i was a bit confused w this so i tried my best !
masterlist !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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liked by yourusername, lilymhe, and others !
charles_leclerc: ariel! my ariel!
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: THE FIRST PICTUREEE😭
yourusername: my very own prince eric 🫶 ilysm🩵🩵
charles_leclerc: ily my ariel now come back and sing 2 me pls 😊😊
yourusername: i’ve been in the kitchen for 5 mins grabbing YOU a snack…
charles_leclerc: the only snack i want is u now come sing
yourusername: omwwwww
username: simp charles for y/n voice, he is so me
username: OUR ARIEL🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️
username: she’s so cute 🥹
username: i know yall read that in a sebastian voice too
username: i’ll never get over her vocals in the movie 😫
lilymhe: the cutest ariel 🧜‍♀️
yourusername: tysm bae🫶
lilymhe: wanna get outta here n leave our bfs behind ???
yourusername: i’m one step ahead of u, i have one foot out the door
charles_leclerc: wait….
arthur_leclerc: knew you were obsessed with the little mermaid for a reason!
charles_leclerc: what can i say😁
username: the first pic ☹️☹️
username: tears she got herself the ultimate white man simp
username: living her best life as a princess w her man who simps for her at her side 💆‍♀️
username: the peoples princess !!
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moonstruckme · 4 months
Note
hi bae, can i pls request reader who’s recovering from eating problems and is gaining a bit of weight and gets insecure with poly marauders but they just find her more attractive cause of it
fighting demons rn
🫶🏻🫶🏻
Hi sweetheart, apologies for the wait! I was hunting your demons with a crossbow. Thanks for requesting <3
cw: implied past disordered eating, body image issues
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words
Your favorite high waisted jeans used to sit just so on your hips, practically hanging off your hip bones. Now, they hug your waist, which you try to reason is where they were always meant to be, but it feels so wrong on your body. Everything about your body feels wrong. You jam your fingers in the waistband, and there’s little give. You’re beginning to wonder if you should even bother with these, when you know you’ll eat and they’ll start to bite into your midsection like a punishment. But they’re your favorite jeans.
James comes through on his way to the bathroom with a careless “Hi, lovie,” and you drop your hands from where they’ve been pinching critically at your waist. 
“Hi,” you echo halfheartedly. 
James pauses, pivoting slightly to give you a curious look. You have an out here, you know. You could fake a smile or feign confusion, and he’d let it go. Perhaps he’d be keeping a closer eye on you today, but James will never push the issue if you don’t feel like talking. 
Maybe it’s the option that makes you think it might be nice to externalize. 
“I’ve gained weight,” you say plainly. There. 
James’ eyebrows shoot up, more surprised at the abruptness of your complaint than the complaint itself. “Well, I should hope so. You’ve been doing really well lately.” 
“It’s just,” you sigh, “my jeans don’t fit.” 
He gives you a quick look-over, then an odd sort of smile. “They look great to me. Do they not feel right?” 
You feel your mouth quirk to the side. A dissatisfied pinch. “They used to feel different.” 
“That’s alright, sweetheart,” he says, going into the bathroom. You hear the satisfying schwick of his deodorant cap sliding off. “Do they still sell those same ones?”
You give a tentative nod as he emerges from the bathroom again, and he shrugs at you, a funny scrunch at the bridge of his nose. 
“Then get them in a bigger size.” 
Not what you want to hear. Not necessarily his fault, either. James doesn’t get it. How could he? The only time James’ doesn’t look like it was drawn into a superhero comic is the few weeks of off-season where he doesn’t train as hard and gets a bit of pudge around his middle. And even then, it’s a very lovable pudge. James Potter wouldn’t know insecurity if it slept in his bed every night. (Which it does. You do.) 
“That’s not the point,” you say, and despite your best intentions your voice comes out with a petulant edge. “I just—I liked how these ones looked on me before. Don’t you think I look…different?” 
The scrunch migrates from the bridge of his nose to just above it, an unhappy notch between his brows. “Well, yeah. But I mean, I like it.” 
You give him a deadpan look. 
“I’m being honest.” James holds up his hands. “Really, sweetheart, I didn’t want to—I know talking about your body can be an issue for you, so I didn’t want to bring it up, but you’ve been looking fantastic lately.” 
You’re quiet, stuck. You aren’t sure what you’d wanted out of this anymore (validation, maybe?) but you’re not going to get it this way. You only feel bad for putting James in this position. He’s your boyfriend and a good one, he only ever had one way out of this. 
“Sorry,” you say, wrapping your arms around your torso, “I didn’t mean to fish for compliments.” 
“Hey.” He steps into your space, hooking his fingers through your belt loops to turn you towards him. “You’re not asking for anything I don’t want to give. You look amazing, I mean it.” Your eyes fall to his chest and he stoops to follow them, dark brows rising incredulously. “What, you don’t believe me?” 
You sigh. “I’m sorry I brought it up, okay? Can we not—”
“Nope.” James lets go of one of your belt loops but keeps a firm hold on the other. “Sorry, no longer an option.” He begins tugging you out of the room. Your hips follow disloyally, and though you wrap your hands around his wrist, he holds fast. 
“James, come on.” You give a little resistance, but he drags you doggedly onward. You could tear out away if you commit to it, but these really are your favorite jeans, and James is just as likely to take your belt loop with him. 
In the living room, Sirius is mending a pair of James’ trousers while Remus does the crossword, which involves him reading the clues aloud and Sirius firing off unrelated and too-long words until Remus gets it himself. Remus hears your protest first, brows rising as James conducts you into the room. 
“What’s going on?” he asks, somewhat warily. 
“She doesn’t believe me when I tell her she’s lovely,” James says, like Can you believe it? Remus blinks and Sirius’ eyes flit up from his work, one brow quirking.
“That’s not what I said,” you defend. 
He releases you, and you step away, crossing your arms over your midsection. “Go on, then.” James sounds truly encouraging, though dubious. “Tell us how lovely you are, angel.” 
You roll your eyes. It’s difficult not to feel frivolous when they put you on the spot like this. “I was only saying that I don’t like the fit of my jeans now.” 
If you hadn’t had Sirius’ full attention already, you do now. He sets down James’ trousers, beckoning you forward, “C’mere, let’s see.” 
You go to stand between his legs, dread coiled like a snake around your ribcage that only squeezes tighter at the unflinching intensity of Sirius’ gaze as he analyzes your face. 
You look down to escape it, sticking your thumb into the waistband of your jeans. “Look, they’ve gotten small—”
“I can see for myself,” he says softly, moving your hand out of the way and replacing your thumb with his own slender fingers. They’re cool against your abdomen. He slides them around to the side of your waist, tugging experimentally at the denim. “Gorgeous, these fit great. This is exactly where you’d usually want them to be. What’s the issue?” 
“It’s just—they don’t—” You feel more and more ridiculous by the second, and you can’t figure out if you’re frustrated with yourself or them for that. “They used to sit lower, and now I—I just feel like I look weird.”  
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” James insists, seating himself on the coffee table and setting his elbows on his knees. Sirius nudges your ankle with his foot, silent encouragement to sit between him and Remus. You comply. “You don’t look weird, sweetheart, you’re—listen, you’ve always been beautiful, but lately, it’s like—you’re just, you’re stunning.” 
You shrink from the compliment, face humiliatingly warm. “Thanks, Jamie, but you have to say that.” 
“No, he’s right,” Remus chimes in. He sounds so matter-of-fact, as if he’s simply recounting how traffic was on the way home from work today. “You don’t look the same as you did before, true, but it’s not a bad change. You’re just not used to seeing yourself healthy, is all.” 
“Exactly.” James throws up his palms, relieved. 
You consider this. It was warped perspective that had gotten you into this mess. Maybe you’re still not seeing things clearly quite yet. 
Sirius wraps a hand around the inside of your thigh, tugging it over one of his. “Babe, if these jeans are evidence of anything, it’s that you’re finally growing into the size you were always supposed to be. If you eventually have to get a larger pair, then fine. It still won’t mean anything about you. You’re exactly right, understand?” 
You nod, feeling thoroughly chastened, and Sirius grins. His fingertips dig into your thigh as he leans over to kiss your cheek. 
“Honestly, I don’t know how you can’t see it,” James says, looking pleased to have some validation from the other boys. “You’re radiant, lovie, your skin is glowing, you look happier—really, you’ve never been more lovely.” 
“It helps that we know you’re doing better, too,” Remus says, a bit quieter. “Frailty doesn’t suit you, dove. It’s…I love you no matter what, but it does make it easier when you’re kind to yourself. Feels more like we’re on the same team.” 
“Thanks,” you say softly, then once more for good measure. “Thanks, guys.” 
“Told you already,” James says, “you’re not asking for anything we don’t want to give.” 
“You liked it when these jeans fit a bit saggier, showed more skin, yeah?” Sirius asks. You nod with a shrug. It doesn’t feel quite so important now. “We can do that. We’ll get you the same ones, if you want, or another pair that might sit a bit better on your hips.” He gives your thigh a squeeze through your jeans. “Gotta show off this bod, right, babydoll?”
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angelltheninth · 1 month
Note
5 and/or 11 from the recent writing prompt list for gojo, please, if you don't mind? 👀
You know I don't mind writing for my bae Gojo.
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, established relationship, grinding, clothed sex, making out, reunion kiss, flirting
Word count: 0.6k
A/N: Bit of angst here but nothing too bad, mostly smut.
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11. Hands desperately clutching at one another, gasping into each other’s mouths as if you were starved of one another.
Almost a month. That's how long you and Gojo has been apart. You ran through the hall frantically, rushing to open that door and fall into his arms. More like crash against him this time but that didn't matter nearly as much as kissing him.
You pulled each other close, his hands scrambling to lock the door as best as he could with him being so occupied. After a few failed attempts he succeeded, following it up with grabbing your thighs and helping you wrap them around his lower back.
This freed his hands to travel across your body, groping and squeezing your breasts through your clothes, reaching back to your ass and guiding it down to grind against his pulsing bulge.
"Gojo, missed you." You moaned into his mouth, barely getting a word in between your tongues fighting for dominance. "I need you so bad right now."
"I missed you too babe. Felt like I was gonna go crazy without you there." It was a hard decision to split you two for missions but it was made after you got into way too many distractions which resulted in you nearly losing track of the demon. You were a new couple, very much in your horny honeymoon phase. Just so happened that you were also a very strong duo. Taking you off this mission made it take longer. "Shit. I won't last long. I couldn't touch myself for the whole week, my cock's about to fucking explode if I don't get all this cum out."
Gojo rarely complained like this, mostly because you had a very active sex life. Neither of you went neglected, all your needs met. "Come for me then." You grunted against his lips while rolling your hips and grabbing at his belt. Undoing his pants provided him some relief but it wasn't enough, it only made the stickiness between your thighs harder to ignore.
Neither of you had the self control to say quiet about your make out session, moaning and gasping into each other's mouth while Gojo's hips pick up speed, his cock now fully straining in his pants and leaving a dark spot on them.
"'Bout to come. Watch me come for you." Gojo moved you against the wall where you could lean back and enjoy the show he was putting on. His hands pushed your skirt up, smirking at how wet your underwear was. "Close too?"
You didn't trust your words so you nodded quickly, grabbing at the roots of his hair and pulling him close, lips so close but not touching, feeling each other getting closer to your inevitable release. Gojo let out one last strained groan as his cum dirtied his boxers, and moments later your hand as you stroked the last of his cum onto your hand.
He watched as that same hand pushed past your underwear and you rolled your hips against it, spreading the cum around your pussy and clit until your body shook against his. Gojo pulled you close, holding you through your high, "We have to make them let us go on missions again. This will drive me mad, I can't keep edging like this every time."
"I don't know, you get pretty wild when you're on edge." Your sadistic smile caused his cock to twitch again but his face was far from happy. "Oh relax! I'm kidding. I want to go on more missions with you too. But I don't think two new Sorcerer's will change anyone's mind."
That was the sad truth of your current position. After you got more field experience the decision might change. For now at least you'd have to learn to keep your hands to yourselves. It might be good for you to have some time apart if this frantic make out and dry humping session was any indication.
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flynnriderishot · 2 months
Note
this may be a lil crazy but can you do a vinnie fic where reader is one of the sturniolo quadruplets? maybe like the fandoms colliding, the “triplets” fans all collectively fake bullying vinnie (I truly feel like if they had a sister she’d be like everybody’s girl crush like maya hawke) and just how they’d be such a cute internet power couple
a/n: i’m so in love with this idea it’s kind of insane 😭 the second i saw it, i started writing. def not the best but i did what i could :)
exposed - v.h
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vinnie leant back in his gaming chair as he stared at his screen. he had taken a pause on his game of valorant to focus on the questions or comments his viewers had for him.
one in particular caught his eye
who’s your celebrity crush?
“i don’t really have a celebrity crush. i mean, you guys know how i feel about margot robbie but if i had to pick someone else, i think i’d say yn sturniolo. she’s freaking gorgeous.”
lmaooo 😭
bro get in line
don’t tell him to get in line, he might as well cut to the front 🙄
she’s so pretty
YN ?!?!
“i take it you guys know her?”
know her⁉️ we love her
that’s bae right there😪
love of my life fr 😫
vinnie stifled a laugh as he eyed the way his phone lit up with a text almost immediately after what he said.
yn 💋
gorgeous???
oh, how generous 😔
he had unknowingly made a habit of responding to your texts as quickly as he could. so without much thinking, he reached forward to grab his phone and respond.
vinnie 🤭
gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, absolutely perfect
i can keep going
yn 💋
please do 😌
i’m kidding. pay attention to your stream, your fans are getting curious
he looked up from his phone, his cheeks flushing a bit at the idea of you watching him. his eyes trailed over to the chat,
what’s bro smiling about?
what are the odds he’s actually messaging yn right now?
zero. bro has no game^^
“bro has no game.” he repeated, chuckling slightly, “you’re not wrong. i’ll play one more game of val and i’m off.”
he placed his headphones over his head, shaking his head slightly, hoping he was nonchalant enough to push away their wonders.
•••
you sat in the backseat of the car with your brother, nick as he spoke to the camera set up on the dashboard.
you could hardly pay attention to what was being said with the way chris kept pushing his seat back against your knees.
“stop!” you hit the seat, instantly getting him to start an arguement.
“you stop yelling!”
matt sighed, he had grown used to yours and chris’ banter, having dealt with it for his entire life. he chopped it up to the two of you being the youngest siblings of them all.
though, with the banter came the closeness between you two, so he knew you were only joking. however, the loud groan nick let out told him to get involved before the argument could escalate to anything more.
“leave her alone, chris.”
“she’s messing with me—“
“no, i’m not.” “no she’s not.”
“shut up! question is: who’s your celeb crushes?”
“i don’t think i have one.” matt shrugged,
“i’ll play it safe and say jacob elordi.”
“i’ll go vinnie hacker.”
chris frowned, turning in his seat to look at you, “that’s not your crush, that’s your boyfriend—“
“um— shut the fuck up?”
“dude, what the hell?”
“just cut it out, nick.” he waved off the eldest triplet, turning his attention back to you, “you can’t say your boyfriend is your celebrity crush, that doesn’t count.”
“they don’t know he’s her boyfriend, dumbass.” matt pointed out.
“just say someone else, we’ll re-film it.”
“no, because then it wouldn’t be authentic.” nick rolled his eyes, “i’ll cut her clip out. way to ruin it.”
“shut up! i was confused.”
“you’re always confused.” you scoffed, earning an offended look, “turn around.”
•••
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vincenzohacks WHAT⁉️ @/lovelyyn you seeing this?
| lovelyyn i’m seeing it 🤔
yn.sturniolo bro…
liked by creator and 24,454 others
mattxliamneeson WTF HAPPENED TO HAVING NO GAME 💀😭 @/vinniehacker
secretlysturn not nick exposing them 🌚
| nicksgiraffehat it was technically chris…
>>> secretlysturn ‘it was technically chris 🤓’ nick edited the video 😒
vinniehacker huh
liked by creator and 42,397 others
| letstrip123 this kind of annoys me 🌝
| hackerxsturn IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE
hackerslovevin it’s the way nick and chris exposed them and have yet to comment 😭
| nicolassturniolo we messed up… @/christophersturniolo
>>> christophersturniolo yeah…
yn.sturniolo @/matthew.sturniolo have i mentioned how you’re my favorite brother?
| matthew.sturniolo once or twice 🤷‍♂️
| christophersturniolo it wasn’t my fault 🙄
| @/yn.sturniolo @/vinniehacker sorry ?
vinniehacker made a post !
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yn.sturniolo made a post !
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taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb @itzdarling @julliaaaaaaaaaaaaa @dracoflaco @heartsforchrisandmatt @lily-strnlo @alliehansson @stinkytwinkwinky @mstarniolo
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starsstuddedsky · 8 months
Text
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Persimmon Problems
jaemin x reader
summary: fantasy crushes are all fun and games until it stops being a fantasy and he’s really talking to you. but what are you supposed to do when he invades every part of your life?
genre: fluff, angst, university au, non idol au, he’s not a frat boy but he’s basically a frat boy, inaccurate depictions of student council, I don’t actually know what this is
warnings: swearing, drinking, implied sex (it’s pg-13), lmk if I missed any
wc: 18.3k (oops)
a/n: ahahaha remember that jaemin dream… yeah. anyways so I’ve looked at this for so long that I don’t even know what this is anymore, all I know is that I can’t keep working on it. also I still don't know what a persimmon tastes like so.. yeah. I really wanted to try one but if this stays in my drafts any longer I will go insane. I hope you all enjoy!!!! as always I'd love to hear what you think :)
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You’ve never had persimmon before but you think maybe it’s the best word to describe Na Jaemin. He is a persimmon in your palm, an unknown flavor to be discovered if you dare to bite. It doesn’t help that he chose to wear orange today, the sweater a shade away from pink. 
There’s a pinch at your side. “You’re staring again.” 
You glare at Renjun, who doesn’t bother to look up from his laptop, working on the graphic for the student council. “Was not.” 
“Whatever,” he says. “Just don’t let the pretty boy distract you from paying attention because I needed to finish this yesterday.”
“The only one distracting me is you, and you aren’t pretty.” You pretend his silence is agreement instead of him trying to force you to take notes as Professor Bae closes up the lecture. 
It’s not that you can’t focus around Na Jaemin–your perfect notes at the end of class prove just the opposite. Jaemin simply exists in another world. There is your corner, mostly filled with student council responsibilities and never ending university work, and there is Na Jaemin, honorary member of every frat on campus. Not that you’ve been thinking that much about him, but his Instagram shows up in your recommended often enough for you to know that he goes to parties nearly every weekend. The sliver of overlap in the Venn diagram of your world and his only includes Microbiology on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 1 to 4, and that’s enough for you. To fantasize about him from here, a fruit you’ll never have the opportunity to try. 
Jaemin starts to turn around and you quickly turn to Renjun, resisting the urge to peek at him out of the corner of your eye. You look at the shapes on Renjun’s computer instead. 
“That looks like shit.” 
“Trust the process,” he says. 
“You spent the entire lecture working on this, you are aware we have a lab where you actually have to do things right?” 
“You don’t think you can handle it on your own?” 
“Stop trying to bait me into doing all the work.” You close your laptop, standing and stretching. You see Jaemin out of the corner of your eye, a blob of black hair shuffling down the aisle toward the door to the classroom. The orange-pink sweater is actually a cardigan, large cream colored buttons keeping it together. That’s when you realize you’re staring again. Shit. 
“Are we eating before lab or do you seriously think you’ll finish that thing in the next thirty minutes?” You ask Renjun, who still hasn’t moved. 
“You want to be president when you aren’t even pressuring me into posting the election announcements that were supposed to go out yesterday?” 
“I want to eat something before we have to stare into microscopes, so what do you want?” You wonder if he’s focused enough to miss you grabbing his wallet out of his bag. 
“Whatever you want is fine and if you use my card it will literally decline.” You curse and toss his wallet back into his backpack. 
“Should have taken that class with Chenle, his card never declines.” 
“That’s because it’s his parents’ black card.” He finally looks up from his laptop at you. “Are you getting the food or not?” 
You open your mouth to say something extremely witty and/or smart, but your stomach rumbles. “I’m going to fire you when I’m president.” 
“And who else will put up with your bullshit?” he calls as you walk down the aisle. You prepare a mature response (sticking your tongue out at him), walking backwards. Directly into someone—bouncing off their chest, more specifically. 
Hands grab your shoulders before you can react, straightening you before you have a chance to fall. “Woah there.” 
“Holy shit, I’m so sorry,” you say as you turn around and find Na Jaemin staring at you. Apologies spill out, even as he smiles at you, a true, knees-to-jelly, threat-to-sunshine smile. 
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. 
“Sorry,” you repeat. Your brain struggles to diversify its vocabulary with him looking at you, smiling with his eyes in full focus. His eyes are so dark it’s difficult to distinguish between his pupils and his irises. Staring, again, the third time in an hour. Why can’t you be normal around him? 
“I was blocking your way out anyway, so it wasn’t all your fault.” He steps back, letting you out of the aisle. At least, giving you the space to do it, since your feet decide not to work. He tilts his head at you, sending your brain into a spiral of predictions, ranging from he’s going to ask you out (rather fantastical) to he’s going to tell you that you have something stuck between your teeth (horribly realistic). 
Instead, he says, “You’re YN, right?” 
“Yeah. How did you know that?” 
His smile widens when you say yes. “Student council vice president, right?” 
You don’t trust your voice so you nod. 
“I’m Jaemin,” he says, extending his hand for a moment like he wants to shake hands but he pulls away at the last second. “Your picture is on the website.” 
“Nice to meet you,” you say, mouth going through the motions on its own since your brain’s whiteboard has been wiped completely clean. The only thing left is NA JAEMIN in giant bold letters, bright red marker and all. 
“Yes, it is,” he says. Does he know the effect his smile has on people? Legally it could be considered a weapon. He pauses a moment longer, like he wants to say something else but instead he turns away, walking back to his seat, waving at half the class because of course he does. 
You don’t have to turn around to feel Renjun staring at you. You don’t feel like hearing his judgy comments, even when they’re only passed on through his eyes. Whoever said eyes are the window to the soul was right—Renjun’s give you a clear view of the most judgmental person you have ever met. You leave the class without looking back. 
Very few places nearby campus sell edible food, and even fewer are ever empty enough to be able to grab food and eat before the three hour lab starts. Today is even worse than normal, as if everyone has chosen to be hungry at the same time as you. You end up at a 7/11, grabbing Takis since they’re the only chips Renjun will eat. You grab an iced tea, tapping your finger in line as you wait. Getting the food was enough of a distraction to keep you from thinking about Jaemin but as you wait for the person in front of you try to get a discount using a coupon that expired three months ago, you go over every millisecond of the interaction–and god, you were so awkward. All you really did was apologize to him, you couldn’t even move. You have got to grow up, stop acting like a middle schooler with a crush. 
The cashier finally gives up, giving the person a discount and waving them out. You set your food down and smile at her. She does her best to put a customer service smile back on her face, though you can see the exhaustion. You thank her as profusely as you can. 
By the time you make it back to the lecture room, there’s barely five minutes left of break. 
“Thank god, I’m starving,” Renjun says, grabbing the bag out of your hands. You keep your iced tea on the side farthest from him, glaring at him until he tilts the bag so that you can reach it too. “We are going to make Donghyuck cook tonight, I need real food.” 
“Agreed,” you say, covering your mouth with your hand so you don’t spew hot chip dust everywhere. 
“And I took pictures of you embarrassing yourself in front of Jaemin, so please try to replace me as your social media correspondent.” He smiles at you over the purple bag. 
“You’re horrible, has anyone ever told you that?” 
“Music to my ears, sweetheart.” 
.
.
Unfortunately, Renjun’s graphic does look good, though still not good enough to warrant how much time he spent on it. The messy shapes don’t look half as bad when they’re the right color, and all the information is listed (not in Comic Sans, though it’s only a matter of time before he tries to use it again. You have yet to find out if he actually likes the font or just wants to be annoying). He posts it an hour after the lab, which wasn’t half bad. Your percent error was under 50% for once. 
It’s a Friday morning, no classes since your university actually listened to the student requests for a three day weekend, which the student council (you) takes full credit for. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean you are responsibility free. Instead you sit in cheap plastic chairs rented from the events and planning committee and under a tent that’s in serious danger of blowing away. 
You cling to your ball cap, NCIT STUDENT COUNCIL embroidered on the front. The papers in front of you whip around, the weights on top of them holding steady. At least it isn’t raining, though the thick clouds overhead get darker every minute. 
Realistically, there’s no reason for you to be here. All the information about running for student council is posted online and with over 30,000 students, only a small portion of the student body actually care—none of whom are walking around campus at 11 in the morning on a Friday. You pull the blanket tighter over your shoulders. Just another fifteen minutes and then Jisung will relieve you. Mark should be the one freezing his ass off since he’s the one that insists on upholding tradition, but as president he takes advantage of avoiding work whenever he can. 
Only two and a half months before that privilege is yours. Assuming you are elected, of course, but there’s no real danger in losing that. You’ve been a part of the council since freshman year, appointed as vice president as a sophomore. Few people have more qualifications, and fewer are actually interested in the position. Usually the competition comes from within the cabinet, but none of the rest of the guys have said anything about the running, though that might be because you haven’t shut up about the position since freshman year. Either way, the position is all but yours, and there is absolutely no reason you need to sit here when you could be studying for midterms. 
A strong gust of wind blows from in front of you instead of behind and this time you are too slow. Your cap flies off your head, tumbling across the empty quad. You shuffle after it, keeping the blanket wrapped tightly over your shoulders, which helps protect you from the cold winds. Unfortunately, said cold winds don’t stop blowing, and your hat blows faster than you can shuffle. It reaches to the sidewalk on the opposite side of the squad by the time it finally stops. 
Moving as fast as you can wrapped up one dry day away from mummification, you try to snatch the cap before it gets blown away again. You bend down to reach for it but a pair of sneakers appear in front of you and a mitten-clad hand grabs it before you can. You stand up and find Jaemin, wearing bright red earmuffs that have a green headband to make it look like a pair of cherries. He holds your hat out, smiling when he sees you (when he recognizes you?). 
“What’s wrong? Hat got your tongue?” He waits, with an expectant smile. The boy next to him, wearing more layers than you, shakes his head. “Sorry,” Jaemin says, “bad joke, I know, but I couldn’t help it.” 
Even the most lovesick part of you can’t defend him on that one. You take your hat from his outstretched hand, sticking it back on your head when you realize what your hair must look like after crossing the quad with all the wind. 
“It’s Jaemin, from microbio,” he says, as if there’s actually a chance you don’t know him. 
“Thanks, Jaemin from microbio.”
He flashes a smile that warms you better than any sun. “My pleasure, Vice President.” 
“You can just call me YN,” you mumble. 
“Where’s the fun in that?” You swear he winks, though maybe it’s the wind blowing in his eyes. 
The boy next to him nudges Jaemin with his shoulder, keeping his hands tucked safely in the pockets of his jacket. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” 
Jaemin rolls his eyes. “This is Jeno, he’s–God, I guess he’s my best friend.” He glances at Jeno, unimpressed. “The position is temporary.” 
“Thanks!” Jeno says brightly. 
“Jeno, this is the vice president of the student council,” he says. 
“YN,” you say, “I’d shake your hand but…” You show your hands, stuck keeping the blanket wrapped around you. 
“It’s alright, I lost my gloves, so my hands are stuck here.” Jeno lifts his jacket with his hands in the pockets, just to prove his point. 
“Hey, I didn’t get a handshake,” Jaemin says. 
“Did you need a handshake?” 
He tilts his head, showing off his jawline, not that you’re paying attention to that at all. It simply calls attention to itself, and who are you to ignore a jawline that could have been sculpted by Michelangelo (not the ninja turtle). He must be cold with so much skin exposed. 
“I’ll settle for some advice,” Jaemin says. Right, maybe you shouldn’t be comparing his face to famous works of art mid-conversation (save it for the Instagram stalking like everyone else). 
“Advice?” 
“I was actually looking for you anyway.” Jaemin glances at Jeno before meeting your eyes again. “The student council election is open to anyone, right?” 
“The presidency is open to seniors that are enrolled here, but yeah,” you say. “Why?” 
He shrugs. “I’m going to apply.” 
You blink at him. “For president? Of student council?” 
“Yeah,” he says. Jeno shuffles beside him, stuffing his hands impossibly deeper into his pockets. 
President… but that’s your position. If it wasn’t for the senior-only rule, you’d already be president. You rose through the ranks, suffered through a vice presidency with Mark to get here–it’s your position. 
“Do I apply there?” He asks, pointing at the table you’re supposed to be sitting at. 
“The application is online,” you find yourself saying, “you have to submit a resume and go through a qualifying process, and submit your proposals for campaign policies and a whole bunch of other stuff, it’s all on the application information.” You’re about halfway through your own application, though it’s mostly copying and pasting from the document you’ve been working on since you joined student council. 
“You can scan the QR code on this blanket, it’ll take you to the application.” You hold it straight, cursing Renjun in your head for being so creative with marketing. You look like an idiot, waiting for him to scan your shoulder. 
“Cool,” Jaemin says, pulling out his phone, but instead of scanning the code, he hands it to you, a new contact profile with your name already in it. You glance between the phone and the smiling boy. “Can I ask you if I have any questions?” 
Jaemin is asking you for his phone number. To help with his campaign, against you. Your brain works in overdrive, trying to determine how you are supposed to feel. Your heart doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of the internal turmoil. You put your number into his phone and hand it back to him. 
“Sure,” you say, even as your brain screams at you not to. “Whatever I can do to help.” 
He grins and your brain fully malfunctions, gears popping, cartoon sparks flying. “Thank you, YN.” 
“No problem,” you mumble, knowing that’s not true at all even without a functioning brain cell. You should have let him call you vice president when you had the chance–this is so much worse. 
“I should go back,” you say, taking a step backward, a gamble considering your history of walking backwards around him. Trying not to linger in Jaemin’s presence is like a planet resisting the pull of gravity to the sun–no matter how hard you try, you can’t beat physics.  
 But maybe he isn’t the sun because when you take another step, Jaemin takes a step to follow you. Are there stars that revolve around planets? But Jaemin doesn’t revolve around you, he doesn’t even exist in your solar system. Maybe a black hole is a better metaphor, sucking you in from a galaxy over. You should stop making metaphors based on middle school astronomy. 
You peer at Jaemin as he continues across the quad, walking leisurely beside you as you shuffle. Jeno trails behind slightly, risking the cold to pull out a phone. 
“Are you following me?” 
Jaemin looks at you over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows. “You think you’re that special already?” Before you can answer, he laughs. “But, yeah, I am. I can’t leave you all by yourself out here, anything could happen.” 
“As opposed to by myself at the table?” 
He shrugs. “There’s two chairs. I could sit with you.” 
It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, looking him up and down. He’s got a puffy jacket (bright red, probably to match with the earmuffs) and jeans. “You’d freeze in five minutes.” 
“You could–” 
“Are we going to Doyoung’s or not?” Jeno calls from behind you. 
“Right,” Jaemin says, “I definitely did not forget about that.” He glances at you. “Rain check?” 
“I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities for you to keep me company freezing my ass off,” you say, “but seriously, I wouldn’t let you stay anyway.” You reach the table, turning to face him. 
Jaemin pouts. “Why not?” 
“For starters, I don’t want to be responsible for the hypothermia you’re bound to catch,” you say, “and it’s a student council thing. You’re not a part of the student council.” 
“Not yet.” 
Right. The standard, crush-threatening-the-dream-you’ve-spent-three-years-working-toward-situation. “Also, no offense, but I barely know you.” 
“Offense taken,” Jaemin says, holding a hand over his chest. “We’ve taken half a class together!” 
“We’ve spoken twice if you count today!” You say. Does he really not get it? “At the very least it would be awkward.” 
“I take full offense to the idea that I could ever be awkward,” Jaemin says. He folds his arms over his chest, eyeing you. “I’ll prove it to you.” Your gut twists, sending off the warning bells, but there’s no way Jaemin is actually flirting with you. He probably hates the idea that someone doesn’t immediately trust him with their heart and soul. He doesn’t need to know that you already do. That’s why there’s simply no way he’s flirting with you–it simply doesn’t make sense. 
“Dude, we seriously need to go,” Jeno says. “Doyoung is spam texting.” 
Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows at you. “I’ll see you in class.” 
“Bye Jaemin,” you say. You watch him walk away with Jeno, throwing his arm over his friend’s shoulders. He doesn’t look back at you. 
What just happened? 
Jisung approaches so quietly you jump when you turn around and he stands in front of you. “Was that Na Jaemin?” 
“Yes–wait, how do you know him?” 
Jisung avoids your eyes, turning to watch the pair of boys trudge away. “Renjun talks.” 
You’re going to kill him. But first you need to defrost, so you hand the blanket over to Jisung and jump a few times to warm yourself up, trying in vain to make up for the loss. 
“What was he doing here?” Jisung asks, wrapping himself so tightly his feet are bound together. One strong push would send him tumbling over, probably unable to get up. If only it was Renjun. 
“He wants to be president.” 
“Of student council?” 
“Apparently.” 
“Huh.” Jisung sits back. “Aren’t you supposed to be president?” 
“Yep.” 
“Huh.” Jisung stares at you. 
“Have fun!” You say. The air without Jaemin is so much colder. Maybe your toes have frostbite. “It’s cold!” 
Jisung grunts, huddling down and you don’t spare a second look at him. There’s a solid chance he’s texting Renjun already, since your best friend has decided to be a dirty gossip. You walk along the sidewalk and try to tell your heart that no matter how pretty his smile is, Na Jaemin is bad for you. Your heart reminds you that he saved your hat. 
Your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull it out, fully expecting to see a message from Renjun but instead a string of numbers show up. you better save my number :). You stare at your phone until it fades to black, which is why you know the exact moment it starts to snow. Though it’s March and the groundhog didn’t see its shadow, a snowflake falls on your phone, melting quickly. You walk home in the snow, thoughts of Jaemin piling up a snowbank that no plow can clear. 
.
.
For breakfast on Tuesday morning, you have an untoasted bagel with a side of impending doom. You woke up with the feeling, a knot in your gut that usually only appears before exams or after you drink too much coffee, but today has chosen to warn you of unknown horrors yet to come. It has to be the dream you had, only you forgot it the moment you woke up. 
[Bitch #1] You’re just trying to avoid jaemin. 
You don’t know why you expected Renjun to support you. Unsurprisingly, he found out about Jaemin’s intent to run for president before you made it back to your apartment, and dedicated an hour to lecturing you over FaceTime, then spent the entire pregame on Saturday side eyeing you. 
Jaemin’s message sits at the bottom of your recent texts. He hasn’t sent anything since Friday, though neither have you. You close your phone and try not to think about him, an impossible task. In the end you can’t think of a valid excuse, and go to your morning lecture. It’s one of your favorite classes (world history of medicinal developments 1200-1600) but today your mind drifts, still trying to figure out why today feels so off. Are you forgetting an assignment? You’ve checked the syllabus for all of your classes and the reminders your professors sent out but nothing has slipped past your the list on your planner. You check your outfit after class to see if you put something on backwards but you look fine. By the time you head toward microbio, you’ve resigned yourself to a day of inexplicable anxiety. 
You should have trusted your gut. 
You take one step into the room and the knot in your gut twists itself into a mess that spells out leave now while you still have the chance. 
In your normal spot at the back of the classroom, sitting beside Renjun, sits Jaemin, grinning and waving at you like he’s been sitting there the entire semester. 
You walk carefully down the aisle of desks, stopping in front of him. “You’re in my seat.” 
Jaemin doesn’t seem to notice Renjun’s snort, opting to smile at you. “Hello YN, it’s nice to see you.” 
“Hi Jaemin,” you say, “you’re in my seat.” 
He rolls his eyes, sliding his backpack to the side and slipping into the next seat over. “I was just getting to know Renjun.” 
You glare at your best friend, sitting beside him. “I’m sure he’s been lovely.” Renjun smiles innocently, turning back to photoshopping a graphic of the student council.  
Jaemin pulls out his laptop, sitting leaning back into the chair. Is he planning on sitting here for the whole class?  
“What are you doing?” You ask softly. Renjun continues to click around, not even pretending not to eavesdrop.
“I told you, I could never be awkward,” Jaemin says. 
“Speak for yourself,” you mutter, shrinking in your seat. Does he really not notice the class staring at you? Okay, maybe staring is an exaggeration, and it’s not the whole class, but the people he normally sits with keep glancing back at you and whispering to each other. 
Professor Bae walks in and they turn back to the front, saving you from (more) embarrassment. From the corner of your eye, you watch the boys at your sides—Renjun doesn’t bother to open the notes doc he shares with you, opting for continuing the edit, which you can’t really complain about because it’s the series of posts you asked him to make. Jaemin pulls up a cartoon series, Teen Titans, volume off with the subtitles on. 
“Is this what you do every class?” You whisper. 
Jaemin looks away from his fake typing for a moment. “She grades for attendance, not participation.” 
“Are you even passing this class?” 
Jaemin grins. “Sweetheart, I skew the curve.” Just to prove his point, he pauses the bickering superheroes and pulls up the grade review for the class. True to his word, his scores are well above average, rivaling your own. With the exception of Renjun, you haven’t met anyone who’s gotten similar grades. 
Jaemin smiles, switching back to the show. He exudes confidence, and why wouldn’t he? Not only hot and popular, he’s smart too, smarter than you—it takes you hours of studying, exam cram sessions, paying attention in class—he doesn’t even hide that he isn’t paying attention, and from his reputation alone, you know he doesn’t spend as much time studying as you. Does he know what he’s getting into with student council? Even the laziest of presidents put in several hours of work a week.
Jaemin laughs at the show. Renjun finally glances at you, raising his eyebrows at Jaemin in a silent question. You shrug, mouthing, I don’t know either. He purses his lips and turns back to photoshop. You’re sure the second Jaemin steps away he’s going to be on your ass again. 
Belatedly, you realize you’ve spent far too much of the class thinking about Jaemin. Professor Bae has already moved on from weekly announcements to new topics, meaning you have a date with YouTube review videos tonight. Thank god Professor Bae actually cares about her students and has recorded lectures. You just have to hope you didn’t miss one of the exam hints she only drops during class. 
Jaemin and Renjun stay quiet for the rest of the class period, though it does little to help you actually focus. Between Jaemin existing next to you and the inevitability of Renjun’s judgment, it’s hard to stay focused on virus identification. You take half the notes you usually do. 
But can you really blame it on them? It’s you that loses focus, you that is distracted by Jaemin beside you when he doesn’t actively try to pull your attention. He may have disrupted the balance of the universe by sitting beside you, but that doesn’t mean you have to fall off the scale. 
Professor Bae announces the end of lecture a couple minutes early. You swear you see her raise her eyebrows at you and glance at Jaemin before disappearing into her office for the half hour break before lab. Is it too self-absorbed to wonder if she’s taking things the wrong way? But what is the wrong way? None of it makes any sense except that maybe Jaemin is too stubborn for his own good. Funny how a week ago he didn’t know your name and now you can say he’s ‘too’ something. 
“So what do you normally do during break?” Jaemin asks. “Other than bounce off the chest of your roguishly handsome classmates.” 
You roll your eyes to keep him from noticing how flustered his comment actually makes you. “Go over the prelab in case someone forgets to do it–”
“I always do it!” Renjun says. 
“–but usually get snacks and do homework. Lately Renjun has been doing a lot of student council work during class, but that’s because he doesn’t know how to manage his time.” 
“Says the one who asked me to design a scheduler for them.” 
“Just because you’re good at Canva doesn’t mean you’re on top of your work.” 
Renjun shakes his head. You can tease him all you want, at the end of the day, you know that it doesn’t really matter. The truth is, he just doesn’t need to study as much as you. Sort of like Jaemin, and absolutely nothing like you. 
“What do you normally do during break?” You ask. 
Jaemin purses his lips. “Well, my lab partner rarely does the prelab, so usually I let him look at mine.” From the row where Jaemin normally sits, a guy in a striped yellow polo glares back at you. 
You glance between him and Jaemin, who turns away from his partner to look at you. “Should you go over there?” 
“Probably.” He doesn’t make a move to get up, instead tilting his head and smiling at you a little. “You’re very interesting, YN.” 
You cough, breaking eye contact to fiddle with the A key on your laptop which is in serious danger of falling off. “Well, your lab partner is probably going to try and inject you with a virus during lab if you don’t go over there.” 
Jaemin laughs. “You’re probably right. I’ll talk to you later.” He stands up and glances at Renjun, who finally looks away from his laptop. Jaemin nods at him and flashes a smile at you, showing perfect rows of white teeth, and finally turns around, backpack half open in his hand. 
You tear your eyes away from him, turning back to Renjun, who sits with his elbow on the armrest, chin in hand. He softens his eyes and looks up at you. “You’re very interesting, YN.” 
“Shut up,” you say, pushing his elbow out from under him, though he doesn’t fall like you wish he would. 
He shakes his head. “I do not like that guy.” 
“Really?” You frown. “Why?” 
“The fact that you’re even asking me that.” He sighs. “He’s just not my favorite type of guy.” He glares at you before you can tease him. “You seem to exclusively be attracted to shitty men, and then I become associated with them through proximity and it’s overall not a fun time for me.” 
“Okay first of all, you barely know Jaemin,” you say, “and second of all, nothing’s ever going to happen with him.” 
Renjun raises his eyebrows. 
“Seriously,” you insist, “he’s literally Jaemin, and I’m… not his type. You can hate him all you want but don’t do it on my behalf.” 
Renjun stares at you a little longer. He doesn’t believe you, and he’s probably right not to. But he turns back to his computer and doesn’t argue back. 
“I didn’t do the pre lab, though,” Renjun says, “that was a lie.” 
“I’m going to kill you and make it look like an accident.” 
.
.
Jaemin doesn’t show up to class on Thursday. You stare at your phone, the single message in your conversation with him. Curiosity and something bitter boil together, making it impossible to think logically. He acts so friendly around you it would be easy to mistake him for a friend, but it’s not like you don’t have friends. You wouldn’t have a second thought about sending a text like this to Renjun or Donghyuck–but you’ve never felt butterflies when either of them looked at you. 
So when your phone dies, you slip it into the pocket of your sweatshirt instead of trying to fight Mark for a charger (ever since “someone” stole one, he’s been overprotective of the cords). It’s movie night anyways, it’s not like you need your phone. 
“Wait,” you say, “since when are we watching Endgame?” 
“We literally just voted,” Donghyuck says, “You could have tied it for Lilo and Stitch but you weren’t paying attention.” He glares at you. 
Mark throws an arm over your shoulders. “It’s all good, YN can just make the popcorn.” 
“It’s hitting buttons on a microwave.” 
“Oh, would you look at that, the movie’s starting!” Mark says, pushing you off the couch and towards the kitchen of his apartment. You glare at him, but the guys have made you watch Marvel movies enough times that you are glad for the excuse to escape any part of it. It’s bad enough you can hear it from the kitchen. 
The shelves in Mark’s apartment are tall enough that he keeps a stool in the kitchen so that he can reach the highest of them. Of course that’s where he keeps his popcorn, so you jump as high as you can, snatching the box. Except you pull a little too hard and the box flies clean out of your hand, your feet slipping out from under you. You tumble to the ground, narrowly avoiding banging your head on the faux marble countertop. 
A moment later, Donghyuck appears standing over you, box of popcorn in one hand. “You could have just used the stool.” 
“That’s so much work.” 
“And yet it keeps you off the floor.” He holds out his free hand and helps you stand. Your tailbone hurts a little but otherwise it seems you dodged major damage. 
“You okay?” Chenle shouts. 
“Fine,” you shout back. You wonder what the odds are that they’d let you bleed out to finish the movie—probably higher than what you want to calculate. At least Donghyuck is as anti-Endgame as you. 
He sets the box on the counter, pulling the plastic off a bag and putting it in the microwave for five minutes. You would’ve just used the popcorn button but Donghyuck insists it tastes better this way. He turns around, leaning against the counter and studying you. 
“So,” he says. 
You raise your eyebrows. “‘So’ what?” 
“So, Jaemin.” Donghyuck stares at you, eyes unreadable. He’s been like this ever since you met him—pulling people apart with his eyes and extracting the most important bits, all with a smile on his face. He knew Shotaro was going to drop out before Shotaro did. 
“He’s…” A friend? A crush? The guy you wish would stay out of your life so you could keep daydreaming about him? 
“He’s sort of famous,” Donghyuck says. “Or infamous, depending on who you ask.” 
“And if I ask you?” 
Donghyuck smiles like this is going according to his script. “He’s lots of fun to party with. I don’t know anyone that doesn’t like him.” 
“But?” You jump when the first piece of popcorn pops. 
Donghyuck pins you down with his eyes. “But he isn’t the boyfriend type. I mean, I’m not best friends with the guy, but it’s pretty obvious, and I talked to—”
“Stop.” You hold a hand up. “I know exactly what kind of guy he is, I’m not an idiot.” 
“I’m not saying you’re an idiot, I just—”
“Donghyuck, I get it.” You stare back at him. “I really do, but I promise I know what I’m doing.” Okay, maybe that last part is a lie, but you know what you aren’t doing. You don’t expect a single thing from Na Jaemin. 
“I heard he’s running for president.” 
“Come on,” you say, “you think he can beat me?” Donghyuck raises his eyebrows. He won’t call you out on it, but he doesn’t have to. Your lie doesn’t even convince yourself. Jaemin has it all—grades, good looks, and, most importantly, popularity. Yes, he can beat you. Easily. 
“Why are you helping him?” 
“Jisung can’t keep his mouth shut, huh?” 
“Renjun was actually the one that told me, but that’s not the point,” Donghyuck says. 
“He hasn’t even asked for help,” you say, “and it’s not like I’m going to give up. I just…”
“You like him,” Donghyuck says. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to try to deny it but you won’t fight a battle that’s already lost. But you won’t admit it either. 
“I know what I’m doing.” 
Donghyuck chews on his lip for a moment. “Just be careful,” he says, “I do care about you. A little. Just a tiny bit. And from what I know, Jaemin is a good guy, but I don’t want you to get hurt because he isn’t what you want him to be.” 
“Gross, stop acting like we’re friends,” you say. 
“Never mind, I take it all back,” he says, “and I won’t be your vice president.” 
“Too late.” You shrug. “You already signed a contract.” 
“Fine, I’ll veto everything you propose.” 
“You don’t have the power to do that.” 
He tossed his hands up. “What is the point of being vice president?” 
You beam at him. “Doing the shit I don’t want to do!” 
Donghyuck opens his mouth to argue back but he pauses, sniffing at the air, and that’s when you realize the popcorn has long since stopped popping. Behind Donghyuck, smoke rises. 
He curses, pressing the button to open the door only to take a wave of smoke straight in the face. At least the bag isn’t on fire. You laugh as he waved his hand in front of his face, coughing. 
“Dude, what is that smell?” Mark shouts from the living room. 
You spend half the movie bickering with Donghyuck while trying to get the sharp smoky scent out of Mark’s kitchen. By the time the Avengers have all the infinity stones again and are in the final battle, you are curled up on the floor with a blanket, the popcorn bowl confiscated by Chenle when he realized how much you and Donghyuck ate while making it (it sort of tastes like smoke anyways). Two Marvel movies later, Mark shakes you awake and sends you and the rest of the guys out. 
You’re so tired by the time you get home, you plug your phone in and fall asleep. That’s why you don’t see the message until your alarm goes off the next morning. 
[Na Jaemin] you busy? 
.
.
For the past three weeks, you’ve tried meditation. Renjun swears by it, but you’ve seen him lose it over half a quesadilla, so it doesn’t exactly instill confidence in you. Still, you set aside ten minutes every morning to listen to the podcast he sent you. It’s meant to be calming, to connect you with yourself, and usually you do feel better, at least for a few minutes. 
You peek at your phone, checking how much time in the lesson is left (3 and a half minutes). No new notifications. 
Jaemin’s message gave you a heart attack when you woke up. He sent it at 8:12pm, probably right after your phone died. So seeing his message first thing in the morning woke you up pretty fast. You sent an apology that you definitely didn’t rewrite fifteen times, and now you wait. 
But no, you’re meditating right now. Clearing your mind, not thinking about a single thing except the air that floods your lungs, letting your heart beat twice before releasing the air again. You peek your right eye open. No new notifications. 
The narration ends and you sigh, laying back on your bed and checking your schedule for the day even though you’ve memorized it. In half an hour you need to be in the library to meet with your study group, then a council meeting, some space for lunch (which will undoubtedly end up crashed by Chenle or Donghyuck), then more homework in the afternoon. Tonight you’re supposed to go to a party thrown by one of Mark’s friends from grad school—depending on whether Renjun can find out if he’s a poli-sci major or not. 
You jump when your calendar disappears and the incoming call screen pops up. You stare at Jaemin’s name for a couple seconds before your brain begins to function again, and you slide the button at the bottom of your phone to answer the call. 
“Hello?” 
“YN,” Jaemin says. His voice is a little deeper than normal, raspy like he just woke up. “I was starting to think you’d blocked me.” 
“Sorry, my phone died last night and Mark doesn’t let anyone use his chargers.” 
Jaemin laughs, the phone distorting the quality, sounding choppy and un-Jaemin. “Damn, does the student body know he treats his council like this?” 
You laugh a little but can’t think of anything else to say. The silence stretches longer as Jaemin doesn’t speak either. The ceiling of your apartment has a constellation of holes, evidence of the former tenant’s antics. You have yet to figure out exactly what it could be—stabbing the ceiling with a broomstick? What does Jaemin’s ceiling look like? He’s so hard to pin down, like the more you get to know him the less he makes sense. He’s the type to have a messy room with clothes tossed everywhere and a bed that’s never made, yet he’s also the type to keep it neat, put up diagrams to match the college aesthetic of studying even if Jaemin himself is allergic to it. 
“So,” Jaemin says, apparently realizing you aren’t going to say anything else. “I actually texted last night because I wanted to see you.” 
You shove down the butterflies that spring up. “For what?” 
“First of all, it’s cruel that you don’t think I’d want to see you just to see you. But also I was gonna ask to go over microbio together because I heard a rumor that Professor Bae talked about the final.” 
“Don’t you have a lab partner?” 
“Yeah, he’s who told me she talked about it. Unfortunately he’s worse at taking notes than me.” He pauses. “Besides, you’re much cuter.” 
“Oh.” The butterflies breach containment, digging like madmen trying to escape your stomach. 
“So are you free?” 
Despite just checking your schedule, your mind goes blank. You frown, trying to remember what you’d just seen, and thank every deity that might exist that Jaemin can’t see your face right now. 
“I’m free after the council meeting. How is 12:30?” 
“Damn, council meetings on Fridays,” Jaemin says, “that works though. Meet you in the library?” 
“We can use the council room on the third floor,” you say, “no one else will be there.” 
“Okay,” Jaemin says, “see you soon, YN.” 
“Bye, Jaemin.” 
The butterflies have turned into zombies, rotting in your stomach and spoiling the leftover popcorn from last night. It’s just sharing notes. It’s just Jaemin. He’s just a boy from another world. The butterflies groan and demand chocolate. 
.
.
Council meetings feel a little bit like the Magic School Bus series. The tagline plays in your head: A normal council meeting? With this group? No way! 
Some of the blame can be directed towards having such an eclectic group of majors, Mark as the only true political science major. The rest of the group has been adamant about keeping the council safe from political science majors (how Mark doesn’t see the horrors of his classmates you truly don’t know). Another point towards Jaemin, being biochem and pre-med. 
Though being a non-poli-sci major doesn’t mean he can handle the presidency. Mark can barely do that. Not that he’s a bad president. Though it sometimes feels like you do all the heavy lifting for him to take credit for, he does work hard. No, Mark’s problem isn’t his leadership—it’s that he doesn’t know when to give up. 
The council meeting is long done but he continues to bicker with Donghyuck, who holds the entire student council hostage. 
“It’s a proven fact,” Mark says. “How are you arguing with science?” 
“Can science tell me what I feel?” Donghyuck folds his arms over his chest. His laptop has faded to black, the meeting notes long forgotten. “This isn’t about facts, it’s about my experience!” 
You check your phone. The meeting has already gone over fifteen minutes. Any longer and Jaemin could walk in on a very not-empty room with Mark committing a crime against Donghyuck for saying that Froot Loops have individual flavors. Maybe it’s time to intervene. 
“You’re just gaslighting yourself,” Mark says, “it’s not physically possible!” 
“Well, you’re not physically possible!” 
“That makes negative sense. I’m getting dumber listening to your attempts to argue.” 
“Okay,” you say, standing up so quickly your chair falls back. “This isn’t council business anymore. All in favor of concluding the meeting?” According to the official rules, Mark is the only one that can conclude the meeting, but Jisung’s hand flies up, followed quickly by Renjun and Chenle. 
“Cool, majority rule,” you say, ignoring the outrage on Mark’s face. Donghyuck pretends to be mad too, but he was only arguing with Mark to piss him off. He’ll probably follow the older boy around just to ruin his day. The two always have some fight going on—you’re convinced the reason Donghyuck agreed to be your vice president (if you win) is just because Mark would hate it. 
Jisung leaves first, eager to escape from Donghyuck and Mark. Donghyuck pauses long enough to write a few more summarizing notes on the meeting but catches up to Mark before he can vanish, continuing to pester him about Froot Loops. 
“Going home,” Renjun says, “we’re going out tonight, by the way. Turns out Taeyong is an econ major, and also a former frat president.” 
“Huh,” Chenle says, “I can’t believe neither Donghyuck or me know him.” 
Renjun shrugs. “I need to finish a couple projects since nothing will get done tomorrow.” He grins. “See you guys later.” 
“Bye Renjun,” you say, tapping your phone screen to check the notifications. 
[Na Jaemin] in the library  [Na Jaemin] lost in the library  [Na Jaemin] nvm found the stairs 
[yn] need me to come find you? 
[Na Jaemin] nah i don’t get lost (yes please) 
“You’re texting with Jaemin?” Chenle breathes over your shoulder, making you drop your phone. Unfortunately it’s still open, your messages easy to read and Chenle doesn't hesitate to snatch it. At least the rest of the guys left, only Chenle is nosy enough to wonder who you’re texting. 
“This is painful,” he announces. He hands the phone back to you. “You could at least add an emoji. Or, like, send more than one sad message.” 
“Why?” 
Chenle shakes his head. “You are texting the Jaemin, right? Na Jaemin?” 
“Is there any other?”  
“You’ve got a chance here,” Chenle continues, ignoring your question. “Not many people—well, I’ve actually heard he’s quite experienced but that’s beside the point, because you have a chance and that’s rare.” 
“Genuinely, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You glance at the door, just in case Jaemin appears. Somehow you don’t think you want him overhearing this conversation. 
“Okay, look,” Chenle says, “you’re you. Student council, 4.0 GPA, plans to be the next director of the WHO or whatever—”
“That’s not at all what I want.” 
“—never a second you aren’t working, and then there’s Jaemin, and sure he’s a STEM major too, but the he’s type that strolls through life, who has things fall into his lap because he’s hot and lucky but you can’t really be mad about it because he’s Jaemin.” He pauses, like that explains everything. But you already know that Jaemin exists in a realm outside your own. Chenle waits a moment longer then shakes his head. “You know what, you’ll figure it out eventually.” He glances at you with a frown. “Maybe.” 
“Good bye, Chenle,” you say pointedly. 
He moves extra slow, closing his laptop only after spamming the save button. He once forgot to save a spreadsheet after a two hour budgeting session and you think he’s still traumatized. Still, spending a full thirty seconds hitting CTRL + S is excessive even for him—he’s stalling, trying to be as nosy as ever. 
“I’m meeting him at the elevator so you can stop stalling,” you say. You hover over the send button, Chenle’s “advice” infecting your brain. You hit send before you can overthink it any more. 
[yn] on the way now 👍 
Chenle sighs, returning to peeking over your shoulder. “You’re hopeless.” 
You grin and give him a thumbs up. “Thanks buddy. If you hurry you can run into him in the elevators.” 
Chenle perks up, grabbing his still-open bag and sprinting out the door. You feel a little bad for lying to him, but he was the one that didn’t read Jaemin’s messages closely enough—evident from missing the fact that he’s on his way up the stairs and how Chenle thinks he might actually be flirting with you. You shake your head at the thought. 
Just when you reach the doorway to the stairs and wonder if you should meet him in the stairwell, the door flies open. Despite climbing three flights of stairs, Jaemin breathes normally. A different backpack than usual is sling over his back, bright orange, like… well, an orange. (Persimmon, your brain unhelpfully supplies). 
“Hi,” he says. “Sorry I’m late.” You wonder how anyone is immune to his smiles. A smile like that robs you of everything irreplaceable and leaves you missing it as soon as it’s gone. 
“You’re not late,” you say, showing him the time on your phone as you walk to the council room. “Exactly on time.” 
“Oh.” He glances at you, and when you turn your phone back to face you, you understand the awkwardness. 
[Chenle] good luck 🤪🤪🤪
[Chenle] have fun with the hottie 🔥🔥🔥
[Chenle] but not too much fun 😼😼
You clear your throat, praying he didn’t get a chance to read all of the messages. “Chenle’s just making fun of my emoji use. Or lack of emoji use.” 
Jaemin nods. “I hate to take the side of someone I’ve never met over you, but he might be right.” 
“I use a perfectly respectable amount of emojis,” you say. “Besides, I’ve never seen you use any.” 
“You’re just going to have to text me more to find out.” 
You’ve never been so happy to see the doors to the council room. It’s nothing more than a glorified study room, with a rectangular table that stretches in the middle of the room, eight wooden seats set around it. A giant whiteboard stretches the majority of the back wall. The only truly special part of the room is the projector that hangs from the ceiling, with a screen that needs a button to come down. The walls that line the hallway are glass, along with the doors, so that anyone can see the council discussions, though tucked away in the back corner of the third floor, only the occasional passerby is subject to the bickering. 
Jaemin raises his eyebrows and whistles. “This is nice.” 
“Don’t lie,” you say. “The only nice thing about it is that we have full access to it whenever we want.” You point to the sign that reads Student Council Members Only. Truthfully, the six of you use it more as a private study room than for actual council work. 
“It is nice,” Jaemin says, holding the door open for you. He pauses in front of the whiteboard. Chenle had been sitting closest to it, apparently spending the final thirty minutes of the meeting drawing out different game plans for the basketball club he somehow has time for. 
“Chenle,” you explain, “he thinks he’s a part of the Golden State Warriors.” 
“How much council work actually gets done in these meetings,” he says teasingly. 
“You catch on fast,” you say. “It took me the full first year to realize how incompetent we are.” 
“How come?” 
“The president just wanted resume padding. He was incredible at sucking up to faculty and making the right people think he was a great leader, but he would send us fresh-terns to pick up condoms and sent Donghyuck with a fake to get drinks once.” 
“Fresh-tern?” 
“The freshman interns,” you explain, “since the president is the only elected position and the rest of the council is appointed, the only way to get known is through the ‘internship,’ which technically is open to anyone but only freshman are dumb enough to dedicate that much time to a job that does absolutely nothing—like, it doesn’t pay or even guarantee you a spot on the council in the future. It’s all based on whether the president likes you or not. 
“Anyway, our president last year was marginally better, and he tried to abolish the seniors-only president rule but couldn’t get it to pass in time, so we ended up with Mark. Not that Mark is a bad president, though council meetings could be half as long if he wouldn’t go on tangents every two minutes.” You stop, realizing how much you’re talking. You’ve come dangerously close to telling him the truth about the presidency. Jaemin says nothing, probably bored. “Anyways, we’ve got a few new initiatives this year but mostly we try to maintain the annual events and keep Mark’s head on his shoulders until he graduates.” 
“Sounds like fun,” Jaemin says. 
“Sometimes.” You pause. “How’s your application going, by the way?” 
He glances at you, smile fading a little. He turns back to the whiteboard, this time studying the fading drawing Renjun made a month ago of a goat fighting Donghyuck. “Still figuring things out. Mostly working on my campaign goals.” 
You nod. A part of you wants to press further, learn more about his plans—but because you want to beat him or because it’s Jaemin? Why is it so difficult to think clearly around him? 
You sit at the table and open your laptop, pulling out your notes. He sits beside you, scraping the chair against the tile floors until his knee is an inch away from yours. He must not notice the way your breath catches in your throat when he leans closer. A moment later and your brain is invaded by his scent, a clean smell like laundry detergent or body wash. 
“It’s organized by subject,” you explain. “Usually I take notes in class and then Renjun reviews and organizes it with keywords and highlighting and this coding system that I don’t really get but he swears by. Either way it works for us.” You show him the keyword that Renjun uses to signify exam hints, combining it with the past class’s date to cross reference the relevant information. 
Jaemin lets out a low whistle. “This is crazy.” 
“Yeah,” you say, “Renjun puts a lot of time into it. But when we study for exams, it’s worth it.” 
“You know Renjun from student council?” He asks, beginning to type a few notes. 
“I guess that’s where I met him first,” you say. “But he’s pretty much my best friend. The whole student council is pretty close, way closer than the group Mark came into. He tells us horror stories about how they made the fresh-terms compete just to turn them against each other, though that’s back when it was filled with poli-sci majors.” 
“None of you are poli-sci?” 
“I’m public health,” you say, “and Mark is poli-sci, but the rest of the guys avoided it. We swore that the next council would be free of the plague of poli-sci majors.” 
“You really hate them?” 
“They deserve it,” you say. “But also it’s because I made the mistake of dating one last year.” You shudder at the memory. 
“Really?” Jaemin looks away from his laptop, staring at you instead. 
“Don’t make fun of me,” you whine. “It was a moment of weakness and he confessed to me with cookies.” 
“Not making fun,” Jaemin says. “Were the cookies at least homemade?” 
“Well, yes.” You shake your head, trying to stop the next bit from coming out. But Jaemin raises his eyebrows and you can’t help it. “He had his ex make them, actually.” 
“No!” 
“Yeah, and then dumped me for them after, like, two weeks, and the guys are all convinced that he cheated on me with them,” you say. “So, no, I don’t really like poli-sci majors.” 
“A good observation,” Jaemin says. His approval makes your cells glow—scientists could discover a new form of bioluminescence from within you. 
Jaemin continues to stare at you, eyes full of warmth. It’s so easy to get lost in them, glancing between the pure dark chocolate and fond smile on his lips. The change in light when your laptop screen fades snaps you out of it. 
You eye him. “Do you even need these?” 
“Nope,” Jaemin says. He grins at you. “Just an excuse to see you.” He turns back to the laptop and continues to copy your notes into his document. You turn around, giving him no chance to see the smile that creeps onto your face. You seriously need to get a grip. Jaemin needs to get a grip and realize that he can’t flirt with you like this, not without completely upsetting the balance of the universe. But even as the world slides sideways, you smile. 
.
.
“Nothing special.” That’s what Renjun said when you asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday. But March 23rd falls on a Friday this year, and everything snowballed from there. 
That’s how you find yourself wearing an outfit even the most lenient parents would dub inappropriate, wearing more body glitter than exists in the state of Utah, taking your fifth shot. 
“Sixteen more to go,” Renjun says, patting your back. Why you promised to match him shot for shot, you aren’t quite sure. You had reasoning, at some point. Definitely before the shots. 
At least you aren’t alone—Donghyuck curls his lip after his shot, lime slice snatched out of his hand by Mark before he can take it as a chaser. Mark laughs as he grimaces. 
 “What’s our motto?” Donghyuck shouts. 
“Two and three to infinity!” Mark shouts. 
“Nobody goes to the hospital!” You shout. 
“To the grave!” Renjun shouts. 
“Huh, I guess we should have coordinated that,” Donghyuck says. “I was thinking something more like ‘happy birthday Renjun.’” 
“Shoulda said something,” you say. You take a step to the couch, the world tilting to the side, though maybe it’s actually you because you stumble into the wall. It holds you up until you make it to the couch, sighing as you reach solid ground. A couple people sit next to you, friends of friends of Renjun whose names you don’t know regardless of the alcohol. 
“You’re YN, right?” The girl closer to you says, making you feel a little guilty for having no idea who they are. She beams when you nod. “I live in Apollo Hall, Karina is my RA, she says you aced biochem.”  
“Oh, yeah,” you say. “Who do you have?” 
“Professor Ahn,” she says. 
“He’s good,” you say, “I had him for a different class and he talks off topic all the time but if you visit him in his office hours once, he’ll remember and be more lenient on the research report. I can send you my notes, too, if you want.” 
She smiles even wider. “Really?” 
You nod, your brain sliding around your skull with the movement—not a good sign, only five shots into the challenge. 
The music changes, a Britney Spears song that Donghyuck must have slipped into the rotation. The girl’s friend drags her up to dance before you get the chance to ask for her name. 
Dancing sounds like so much fun, until you stand up and realize that you’ve been hydrated too well. Your bladder announces its need for attention much like the maintenance worker that fixed the leak in your shower—loud and last minute. 
You push your way through the people crowded at the edge of the room, making your way to the hallway where the bedrooms and, more importantly, bathroom are. You pass by a semi-familiar face flirting with a girl from Renjun’s study group, but your bladder gives no time for your brain to make connections of recognition, let alone time to wave. 
Finally, you break the crowd, ignoring the couple making out concerningly close to Donghyuck’s bedroom door (something you like to call “not my problem”). All your focus is on the door to the bathroom, a piece of lined notebook paper taped on with RESTROOM scribbled in marker. Just as you reach for the handle, the door swings inwards. 
You might have caught yourself, two or three shots ago. Instead you tumble forward, the floor coming to meet you fast. And then you aren’t. 
“We have got to stop meeting like this,” Jaemin says, laughing. He caught you by the elbows, your face pressed into his chest. He helps you straighten up, though he doesn’t let go of your arms. 
“Jaemin.” You grin at him. 
He tilts his head. “You’re drunk.”  
“You’re pretty,” you say. Jaemin tilts his head and smiles at you. Endearing. Endearing, that Jaemin has an amused expression on his face. Like he is endeared by you. How funny. 
But he really is pretty. He must be hot in the leather jacket, loose over his broad shoulders. Yes, those broad shoulders. He’s hot too. But first, he’s pretty. His black hair falls just above his eyes, loosely split down the middle, framing the perfect angles of his face–the perfect line of his nose, gentle curve of his cheekbones, that jawline–and of course those lips. Perfect lips. 
Jaemin leans closer. “You’re prettier.” 
You burst into laughter, stopping only when you snort. “You almost sound serious.” 
Jaemin doesn’t say anything else, still smiling at you, only a couple inches of space between you. Ignoring those lips this close is impossible. They’re the prettiest shade of pink, and he must have put on lip balm–or maybe it’s the lighting–because they glow. What do they feel like? They have to be soft—you’d bet everything in your pocket (if these pants had pockets) he tastes sweet. Like a fruit, a yummy, juicy fruit, dripping with juice, which reminds you—pee. 
You push past Jaemin, into the bathroom. “Need to pee.” 
He catches his hand on the door before you can close it, frowning a little. “You’re not going to slip and crack your head open?” 
“Nope,” you say. “Really need to pee.” He lets go of the door and you slam it shut, using one hand on the counter to steady yourself while you fumble with the lock. After an eternity, you finally get to the toilet, which, despite the number of people crowded in a house of two college guys, isn’t totally disgusting. 
Two minutes, an empty bladder, and clean hands later, you push the door open. Your balance has improved just enough for you to feel confident in your ability not to die on the dance floor—and with perfect timing because Break Your Heart by Taio Cruz just started playing. You find Donghyuck in the middle of the room and join him, grinning when he cheers. 
Renjun appears halfway through the next song, shots in hand. More of the tequila ends up on the ground than in your stomach by the time you knock it back but Renjun shouts, “Six!” anyways. 
Another 2000s hit plays (it’s definitely Chenle’s playlist, which reminds you that you haven’t seen him in a while) and you get Renjun to stay on the dance floor for the full song. It’s hot and sweaty and you wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world. 
Donghyuck cheers again, hyping up the people that join your little circle. You turn to see Jeno, wearing a piece of fabric that technically could be called a shirt though it really looks like a hole for his head that’s completely open at the sides except for the ties at the bottom. Beside him, and right next to you, Jaemin grins at you. He throws an arm over your shoulder, pulling you against his side. 
“And I was like baby, baby, baby, oh!” You shout along with the song, vaguely aware of the rest of the guys singing along—except for Jaemin, who waits for Ludacris’s verse to come in to rap it word for word. 
Renjun drags you away before the next song can start. “Number seven,” he shouts in your ear over the bass. 
“What about Donghyuck?” You glance behind you where he starts a full performance, an empty water bottle as a microphone. 
Renjun shrugs. “He’ll catch up.” 
You watch Renjun struggle to pour the tequila, holding the bottle with two hands off the edge of the counter to get the mouth as close to the paper shot cups as possible. You can’t see how much tequila actually makes it into the cups but it burns its way down, sending your stomach spinning. Only a third of the drinks you are supposed to take with him but you’re already questioning the next round. 
Renjun gets dragged away from you by some people you aren’t even sure are actually his friends, but you lose track of him when someone tugs on your hand. Jaemin, again. He lost his jacket at some point, wearing a shirt that matches Jeno’s, showing off his considerable arms. Even in the poor lighting from the strobe lights Donghyuck set up, you can see the definition in his biceps. 
Yeah, you’re definitely staring. 
Jaemin asks something but you can’t hear him over the music. You step closer, stumbling a little on your own feet. As always, he catches you, arm sliding around your waist. 
“How are you doing?” He shouts over the music. 
You grab his other forearm to keep yourself from falling over. “I’m so hungry.” 
Jaemin leans closer, lips brushing against your ear. “Wanna get out of here?” You raise your eyebrows at him and he grins. “The McDonald’s, across the street?” 
“I need French fries,” you say, letting go of his arm and spinning out of his embrace to face the door. He catches you before you can go too far (and fall on your face), looping his elbow through yours. 
As soon as the door closes behind you, everything falls silent. Not everything, because you can still hear the bass from inside the house, and cicadas sing, and the highway is close enough to hear the rumbling of engines passing by. But quiet falls in the space between you and Jaemin, a breath waiting to fall free. 
He doesn’t let go over your arm, using his other hand to brace the three steps in front of Donghyuck and Renjun’s place. He leans on you as much as you lean on him, magnets stuck to each other, except magnets don’t struggle to stay upright crossing an empty street. Maybe if they could get drunk. 
The street light flickers above you, crackling electricity. You can feel Jaemin’s bare arm against yours, firm muscle held taut. You peek at the boy beside you, his head tilted to the sky. Pretty. You won’t say it again for fear of being repetitive, but it’s the right word for this moment. Not just Jaemin, but the chilly night air, the faulty light above you fighting with the neon lights to illuminate your breath. You’ll blame the alcohol in the morning, but tonight it’s all pretty. 
Jaemin swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and he turns to meet your eyes. It’s definitely the alcohol but you don’t look away. 
The crosswalk changes to the white man, beeping at you to cross the street. You tear your eyes away from him, settling for clinging to his arm to make it past the striped crosswalk illuminated by headlights. 
You’re hardly the only drunk couple at McDonald’s. Jaemin notices you limping a little and drops you off in a booth, stumbling on his own to order. You must have done something dancing, though you don’t remember anything hurting. Your ankle hurts now, so you lean your head into your elbow and watch Jaemin’s back. 
The fluorescent lights can’t make him look sickly. They show his arms in their full glory, open sides revealing enough of his body to make you self-conscious. The hint of a farmer’s tan dusts his arms, shoulders just a shade lighter than his forearms. Where did he get that from? 
So many questions about him. So much to know. So little you do know but you like him so much it gets so hard to tell. What matters. 
Jaemin puts his wallet into his back pocket, turning around and smiling when he meets your gaze. He slides into the seat across from you. “Potatoes are incoming.” 
“Do you know what persimmons taste like?” 
“What?” His brow furrows, a cute frown that makes you forget what you’d asked. 
“Never mind,” you mumble. Opening your mouth any more around him is a dangerous game—you aren’t quite sure what will spill out. 
He reaches out to tap his finger on your arm. Like the sun, being in his atmosphere makes everything warmer, his touch boiling your skin. The heat flows through your body, each cell vibrating with the need for something. 
“You feeling okay?” 
It takes considerable concentration to work past his finger, which has graduated to drawing shapes, and answer him. “Renjun wanted to do twenty-one shots for his birthday but seven is beyond enough.” 
Jaemin whistles. “Is Renjun going to survive tonight?” 
“Probably not,” you mumble. “That opens up a council position. You could be a good social media person. Your face is pretty enough.” 
“Is that the only requirement for student council?” Jaemin asks. “Being pretty?” 
“You can’t be a poli-sci major either,” you say, “which you pass. It helps that you’re smart, and kind. I like people that are smart and kind.” 
“That’s a low bar,” Jaemin says. “What else do you like?” 
“Hm…” Your voice rumbles, a funny feeling in the back of your throat. You hum for a little longer before you remember Jaemin asked you a question. What do you like? 
“Sharks. They’re much cooler than dolphins. And potatoes, I love potatoes. I like Renjun. And Donghyuck. And Mark, even though he’s a poli-sci major. I like Chenle and Jisung. They might be my favorite people.” And you. I like you so much I don’t know how to say it. 
“What about doctors?” Jaemin leans closer, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Do you like doctors?” 
You lift your head up, pouting your lips at him. “Doctors have needles. I don’t like needles.” 
Jaemin laughs. “Even if the doctor is super rich?” 
“Rich? From taking all my money?” You cry. 
“Rich from saving people’s lives,” he says. “Like a neurosurgeon.” 
You squint at him, the blurriness of your eyelashes mixing with the blurriness of the alcohol and canceling out until his face becomes clear. “Are you actually pre-med because of Grey’s Anatomy?” 
Jaemin looks away, running a hand to the back of his neck. “Maybe.” His biceps are almost enough to distract you from his admission. Almost. 
“Oh my god.” You can’t hold back the giggles, trying to cover your mouth with your hand. Tears prick at your eyes and you gasp for breath, stomach twisting the alcohol with the giggles and turning over itself until you aren’t sure if you’re starving or need to throw up. 
“It’s a perfectly respectable career!” Jaemin says. 
“You want to be Patrick Dempsey?” You say between giggles. “Not even McSteamy?” 
“Hey, he’s—wait, you watch it too?” 
You shrug. “It’s fun.” 
“Then how are you making fun of me!” He cries. 
“I didn’t go into medicine because of it!” 
Before he can say anything else, the workers shout a number. He glances at the receipt and shoots you a glare without a drop of malice in his eyes and leaves. 
Jaemin being silly. Jaemin bickering with you. Hard to believe that even two weeks ago, you never would have believed he watched children’s shows in class and chose his profession because of a soap opera. Jaemin who keeps surprising you, who makes you want to believe that maybe he’s from the same planet as you after all. 
He brandishes the brown paper bag in front of him like treasure. What does it matter that you’re grinning because of him and not the golden treats inside?
“For you,” he says, setting the bag in front of you and tilting it on its side so you can reach inside for the fries. “I didn’t know what sauce, so I fought… Okay, maybe flirted with the worker, but the important part is that I got one of each.” He pauses glancing at you. “Which apparently you don’t need.” 
“So good,” you say, eating them properly: no sauce, just freshly fried golden perfection. You look up to find Jaemin smiling at you… fondly? Is that what’s in his eyes? 
“What?” 
He shakes his head. “You’re just cute.” 
You stare at him, fry halfway to your mouth. He looks down, the tips of his ears tinted red as he grabs a fry and dips it in honey mustard. 
The rest of your time at McDonald’s is dedicated to properly enjoying the French fries and not at all sneaking glances at Jaemin sneaking glances at you. You finish the fries long before the swirly feeling in your stomach goes away. The butterflies must be drunk too. 
“Back to Renjun’s?” Jaemin asks, standing up and extending a hand for you to take. The most dangerous handhold of your life. You don’t think twice about taking it. 
“Mm, I’m pretty tired,” you say, “and Renjun was pretty adamant about the twenty-one shots thing. If we go back, he won’t let me go until one of us is in the hospital.” Walking is easy when Jaemin lets you lean on his shoulder. Standing just outside the McDonald’s, your shadows stretch ten times as tall as you, the lines between you and Jaemin undefined. 
Jaemin raises an eyebrow. “You aren’t worried about him?” 
“He swore to send Donghyuck to the grave before him, he’ll be fine,” you say, “plus Jisung is there, sober. They’ll be fine.” 
“And you?” 
“I’ll be fine when I get home.” You tilt your head up from his shoulder only for him to look down at you, his nose brushing against yours. Your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding. But you don’t move away and neither does he. 
“Take me home?” 
He doesn’t move for a heartbeat, eyes flickering to your lips. Then he turns his head straight, patting your head with his free hand a couple times. “Okay.” 
You whisper directions, a ten minute walk from Renjun’s place. The walk home is considerably less stumbly, your balance recovered halfway through the fries. You cling to Jaemin’s arm anyway, more afraid of letting him go than falling. 
The building appears far too quickly, Jaemin pushing open the glass doors and walking you to the elevators. You don’t dare say a word to break the silence as the elevator dings to the third floor. He waits until you reach your door to disentangle himself from you, standing with the tips of his sneakers a millimeter away from yours, catching your hands in his. 
“Goodnight, YN,” he says. 
No. This isn’t the time for goodnight, not when every atom in your body might explode if he takes a step away. You tighten your fingers around his. 
“Do you want to come in?” You ask. “See my apartment?” 
He tilts his head, a little frown creasing his brow. “Okay.” 
You fumble with your keys, hands shaking when you open the door. Emotions swirl around you, making it difficult to tell the difference between excitement and anxiety, if it exists. Calling the place an apartment is a bit of a stretch. Glorified broom closet is your preferred term–a bed shoved against the far wall with a tiny window next to it, desk tucked in next to it like a puzzle piece without enough space for a chair, a door for your bathroom, directly next to the “kitchen” of a stovetop oven and sink, and a closet that barely fits your coats.
Beyond being tiny, you left the place a mess, second, third, and fourth contenders for outfits strewn on your bed, unwashed dishes in the sink. The entryway is the only space for the two of you to stand together comfortably but you lead Jaemin farther in, balling up the clothes and tossing them into your hamper underneath the bed. 
“I don’t normally have company,” you explain. 
“It’s okay,” he says, “my room’s a mess too.” He picks up the pink teddy bear from your bed and smiles. “A gift?” 
You shake your head. “Bought it myself for surviving sophomore year.” You pull the great white shark out from beneath a blanket. “Freshman year.” 
“Cute,” Jaemin says, still looking at the bear. 
You follow Jaemin as he wanders the tiny room. He pauses at a framed picture of the student council that sits on your desk. It was a gift from last year’s graduating cabinet, the whole group, president, appointed cabinet, unofficial members, and the fresh-terns, fifteen people in total. 
“That one’s my ex,” you say, the word still strange in your mouth. “If you count two weeks as even dating.” 
“The one in red?” 
You nod. 
Jaemin snorts. “I’m way hotter than him.” He sets the picture and turns, and suddenly only a couple inches of space separate him from you. This close, you can see exactly how pretty he is, long eyelashes that cannot be natural, even longer when he stares at his toes instead of meeting your eyes. And, this close, you can see the soft pink of his lips, lower lip jutting out just a tiny bit. 
Not drunk, not yet sober, it’s easy to lean a little closer, brush your lips softly against his. The kiss is over before you can think about it. 
You open your eyes to Jaemin staring at you, eyes wide, somewhere between disbelief and fear. You open your mouth to apologize but he moves faster, hand coming up to cup your face and pulling you closer until you kiss him again, your hand instinctively catching you against his chest. He links his fingers with your free hand, tugging you even closer to him. 
He moves slow at first, a gentle kiss that takes your breath away anyway. He pulls away when the stars flood your brain, smile boyish and sweet. His thumb strokes your cheek into the shape of a heart. Then he slides his hands to the back of your neck, letting go over your other hand to wrap around your waist and pull you against his chest. 
Jaemin knows how to kiss. He moves like it’s his last chance, desperate lips telling truths words can’t capture. And you might not have as much experience, but you understand the language of desperation. A never ending chain of fireworks explode within you, pushing you to wrap your arms around his neck, kiss him even harder. Your hands move on their own, tugging at the cloth of his shirt until he leans back, breathing heavily. 
“How far you want to go?” He asks, chest rising and falling with each breath. “You know consent is so sexy.” 
You laugh, giddiness making it difficult to think. “You have a condom?” 
Jaemin grins, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet. He slips the shiny packet out, tossing his wallet to the floor along with his shirt. He gives you a proper amount of time to ogle his chest before tugging you against him again, your heart pounding so hard against him he must feel it. 
He tilts your head towards his until his lips brush against yours, and when he speaks, you feel every word. “Now where were we?” 
.
.
[Na Jaemin] sorry I had to go :( [Na Jaemin] wish I could have been there when you woke up  [Na Jaemin] but! I have a surprise [Na Jaemin] [image attached] [Na Jaemin] see you in the morning <3 
You blink at the message, a picture of him wearing a fuzzy headband in the middle of his skincare routine. Your head pounds a little, but otherwise your hangover isn’t too bad. Definitely not the worst it’s ever been. 
No, the strange feeling in your stomach is something else. Last night is burned into your memory, every move, every touch. Jaemin, who you fell asleep beside, though the timestamp on the texts show he didn’t stay much longer after. Not that you expected him to. It’s Jaemin, you remind your traitorous heart. No matter how much he flirts, no matter what he did drunk, he was never yours. 
Your phone rings, but it isn’t Jaemin. 
“Hey,” Renjun says. 
“You sound awful,” you say, throat aching. 
“You’re one to talk,” Renjun says, “and you didn’t even get to double digits. Donghyuck out-drank you.” 
“And how’s Donghyuck doing?” 
“Throwing up in the shower, it sounds like.” 
You laugh, the motion, sending your stomach spinning. “Happy birthday Renjun.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, “I actually did call for a reason.” 
“I am not helping with clean up,” you say, “Chenle swore he’d do all of it since he bailed on set up.” 
“Not that,” Renjun says. “I’ll be over as soon as I can walk without passing out.” He hangs up, leaving you to frown at the empty screen. 
Well, considering how late he got back, Jaemin probably won't be awake any time soon. You need to shower and rehydrate and try to convince your stomach to take something—and with how Renjun sounded over the phone, it seems like you’ll have plenty of time. 
An hour later, slightly burnt toast, and post-Advil, the headache is mostly gone. Your stomach still twists at the thought of Jaemin. You jump at the doorbell but find Renjun wearing a mismatched sweatsuit and his bright orange crocs, glasses nearly sliding off the bridge of his nose. He wears the hood of his sweatshirt up but you can see tufts sticking up. 
“God, did you shower?” You catch a whiff as he passes by, reeking of tequila. 
“I was serious about coming over as soon as possible.” He groans, collapsing on your bed. “I think I maybe came over too early though. Might need to throw up.” 
“Do you want toast?” You offer. 
He glares at you. “Just sit.” Renjun rarely speaks with patience but today he seems extra short on it. Maybe because of the hangover, but the way he glares at the carpet before turning to look at you makes you wonder if something else is wrong. His eyes soften a little when he meets your eyes, his frown lightening just barely. 
“I really wish I didn’t have to tell you this,” he begins. “Did you go out with Jaemin last night?”
“He… took me home,” you say. “What’s wrong Renjun?” 
“Last night—well—this morning, I met some guys from Sigma Nu, who are friends with Jeno and Jaemin,” he says, “who were talking about how Jaemin is going to be president. About how he’s messing around with the frontrunner, trying to distract them or fuck around, trying to take the presidency.” He falls quiet, studying your face. 
“He wouldn’t.” Your voice feels so small. 
He wouldn’t, you said, but you can’t even convince yourself. Your heart flounders, drowning in a lake of its own creation, choking on fantasies. Your brain takes control in the chaos, gears turning despite the crashing waves. Facts don’t need oxygen. 
1) Jaemin approached you about the presidency first 
2) he pretended not to know you were running 
3) he’s known for hooking up with anyone 
4) he never belonged in your world 
The conclusion is obvious, a conclusion you could have come to much sooner if you weren’t too busy getting swept off your feet by his easy flirting and sweet smile. Though your heart doesn’t want to believe it, it makes too much sense. So much more sense than the hope you were stupid enough to believe in. Jaemin isn’t that type. How many of your friends told you that? How many times did you tell yourself that? But you let him hurt you anyway because he held your hand and called you cute. How quickly a fruit can rot when it sits in the palm of your hand. 
Jaemin doesn’t exist a universe away–he lives in your world, worse than a cliche. The type of boy that made you want to believe in him, even when you knew better from the start, and maybe that’s the worst part. He never hid who he was, what he wanted. It’s you that wanted more, that believed he could want something more. How pitiful. 
“I’m sorry,” Renjun says softly. “I wanted him to be different.” 
“Did you? Because everyone was telling me about how I needed to be careful, protect myself, not get hurt over him. Did any of you consider that I didn’t ever expect anything from him?” You shake your head. “No, you all thought poor little YN, getting their feet swept out from under themself over a boy that doesn’t give a shit about them? A boy that’s actively trying to stop them from achieving a dream they’ve had since they started college? Well, guess what? You all were right. Congratulations.” You bite your lip trying to hold back the tears but it’s too late. 
“I’m sorry,” Renjun repeats. He pats your arm, looking away when you swipe at your eyes. He waits for you to take a shaky breath, hand on your arm. You grab the teddy bear, trying not to hear Jaemin calling it cute. 
“I slept with him.” The admission burns its way up your throat. “Last night.” You sigh. “You don't have to tell me I’m an idiot.” 
“Okay, I wasn’t going to say that,” Renjun throws his arm over your shoulders. “Though I’m kind of regretting sitting on the bed.” He scoots a little forward but squeezes your shoulder. “You’re going to do things you regret, there’s no stopping it.” 
“Why do you always have to be right? Why am I exclusively attracted to shitty men?” Your chin digs into the innocent bear, jaw tightening. “Why can’t I just like a boy that likes me?” 
“Do you think maybe you liked him too much?” Renjun asks gently. “Like maybe you liked the idea of him more than Jaemin himself.” He pauses, squeezing your arm. “Don’t let a boy that isn’t real hurt you.” 
You lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder. “But he was real. Sweeter than persimmon. Like a strawberry. Or a mango.” 
“Okay, I’m not understanding.” 
“I thought he was a persimmon, a magic fruit I could imagine tasting sweet or sour or tart but he’s real and even though his flavor isn’t a mystery, it’s better than what I could have imagined. Like taking a bite of a pineapple and it’s the best pineapple you’ve ever had, juicy and sweet.”
“Okay first of all, that’s a terrible metaphor, please stop talking about how he tastes or I will throw up,” Renjun says. “Also persimmons are real.” 
“I know that,” you snap, “but I’ve never had one, so they’re magic to me.” You stare ahead, grateful Renjun knows when you just need a little bit of time to work up the courage to say what you need to say. “I’m saying you are right. I didn’t really like him, not at first. But it’s worse than that because when I did get to know him, it was so much better. He wasn’t a dream, he was a boy who watches Grey’s Anatomy and does skincare even after a night of partying.
“I know it makes more sense, that his flirting wasn’t real, that he was never really interested in me. But nothing real about him makes sense, and I want to believe in him, still.” You purse your lips. “Pretty pathetic, huh?” 
“You really liked him,” Renjun says, “that won’t just go away.” 
“That would be too easy,” you mutter. 
Renjun laughs. “You’re going to be fine. There are so many better men.” 
“That’s what you said last time,” you say. 
“And I was right,” Renjun says, “Jaemin is better than last time. Marginally. At least he isn’t a poli-sci major.” 
You snort. 
“See, you’re already laughing at him.” Renjun pushes you off his shoulder, standing up and groaning. “Now, I’m going to throw up in your bathroom, and then we can watch dumb action movies until your brain rots. The rest of the guys are supposed to come over, though I think Donghyuck is still throwing up.” 
You bury your face into the bear. “Does everyone know?” 
Renjun pauses. “The guys from this morning were sort of proud to be the ones to tell us.” 
You groan. The door to your bathroom closes but you barely hear it. You clutch the bear a little tighter, as if the fluff could break through your chest and fill the spilling hole in your heart. 
It would be too easy to blame Jaemin, to pretend like none of the pain is from your own stupidity. But you already told Renjun. You knew it from the start. 
Knocking at the door, a knock that means only one person. You wipe the tears from your eyes and take a deep breath that does nothing to steady your heart. 
“God, I was afraid I was waking you up.” Jaemin starts talking as soon as you open the door. He holds up a bag, a tray with two iced coffees and a hot cup. He looks unfairly good and, of course, he grins at you. “I wasn’t entirely sure what your hangover cure is, so I got hot and iced coffee, and there’s a breakfast sandwich and a donut and also these potato things, I really wasn’t sure what you’d like, but–” 
“Did you know that I was running for president?” 
Jaemin freezes, frown slowly curling his brow. “What are you–”
“Just answer the question.” You grip the door handle, knuckles turning white. 
He pauses a moment too long. “It’s not like that.” 
“Never talk to me again.” You fight the urge to slam the door, but your neighbors don’t have to suffer your wrath. You shake your head, “I can’t believe I fell for your bullshit.” 
Jaemin opens his mouth but you close the door, sliding the deadlock as hard as you can. He has the audacity to try to explain himself. If you didn’t want to hear him out so badly, you might laugh. Instead you turn your back on the door, sliding down it until you can rest your head on your knees and sob. 
.
.
Jaemin makes it halfway down the aisle of seats on Tuesday before you turn to Renjun, panic and tears in your eyes. He glares at Jaemin so hard he freezes in his tracks and doesn’t try again. He doesn’t look at you in class, not even a peek. On Thursday, he walks straight to his seat. 
.
.
Chenle doesn’t bother to throw his packages into the recycling after opening them. He says he’s hanging onto them to make moving out easier, but really he’s just too lazy to break them down. You have to step around them to get into his apartment, since he thought it would be fun to make an obstacle course out of them. Navigating these sober is hard enough, you have no idea how he makes it to bed after a night out. 
But today, it’s worth it. It’s been two weeks since you cut off Jaemin, a month since the day you bumped into him in class (a month and three days but who’s counting?). He doesn’t look at you anymore. You haven’t fully escaped him–every once in a while you’ll hear his laugh from the other side of the lecture room. The sound still stabs between your ribs, a wound turned new each time you hear it. But it cuts a little more shallow each time. One day you won’t feel it at all. 
And today, Chenle got a puppy. 
She cries before you make it over the baby gate in Chenle’s room. A tiny ball of white fluff bounds toward you, tripping over her own feet. 
“Hi baby!” Your voice automatically rises three pitches looking at her. “Aren’t you just adorable!” You crouch down, letting her jump on your knees. She won’t sit still long enough to be pet, sprinting around your feet, then back to Chenle sitting on the floor, back resting against his bed. 
“Hi to you, too,” Chenle says pointedly. 
“Hi Chenle,” you turn back to his puppy. “And hello puppy!” 
“Her name is Daegal,” he says. You can hear him rolling his eyes. “‘Cause she’s got a big ass head.” 
“Chenle is so mean to you!” You coo at the puppy at your feet. “But that’s okay, I’ll take good care of you. You can come home with me!” 
“You hear that baby?” Chenle says. “YN wants to pay me $1000 to take care of you!” 
You stare at him. “Did you seriously adopt a $1000 puppy?” 
He shrugs. “She’s really cute.” 
“You’re insane.” Daegal settles down enough to let you pat her head. 
“I invite you into my home for some much needed puppy love and this is how you treat me?” Chenle sighs. “To think that I felt bad for you, that I told you about her before anyone else. This is how I get treated for my kind heart.” 
“I don’t need your pity,” you say. Daegal licks your hand. 
“It’s not pity.” He pauses. “Well I guess it is pity, but you’re also my friend YN. Believe it or not, watching you live the sad boy lifestyle over some dude, again, is not fun. I’d much rather watch you being happy with my puppy.” 
“You’re the one who brought it up,” you mutter. 
Chenle claps his hands, making Daegal jump. “But that does remind me, everyone has been too much of a coward to ask, but I’ve heard from tertiary sources about his reputation, but I’d love a first hand account.” 
“What are you talking about?” You eye him. 
“How was the sex?” 
“You’re seriously asking me that?” 
He shrugs. “Well, yeah.” 
You pick up Daegal, staring at her instead of Chenle. She wiggles her tail, then her paws, so you set her back down. “I’m not answering that.” 
Chenle narrows his eyes, studying you. “That means it was good.” 
“That’s not at all what I said.” 
“And yet you’re not denying it.” 
“Please shut the fuck up.” 
For once he listens. With Renjun, silence means peace–he doesn’t say anything that doesn’t matter. When Chenle doesn’t speak, it means he has something to say and he isn’t sure how to say it. You peek up at him and your suspicions are confirmed. He chews on his lip, frowning at you. 
“Just tell me.” 
Chenle purses his lips. “He dropped out.” 
“Of school?” 
He rolls his eyes. “The election.” 
You stare at him. “Seriously?” 
“He hasn’t touched his application since Renjun’s birthday and Donghyuck said yesterday he emailed and said he wasn’t going forward with it.” He doesn’t say anything about how technically you should be checking the email. 
“But it doesn’t make any sense.” 
Chenle shrugs. “I’m just telling you what I was told.” He stands up. “Now! How much do you like cleaning up dog pee?” 
You glance down at Daegal, who squats in the middle of the room, a dark stain on the carpet beneath her. Chenle tosses you some paper towels and a can of Febreeze. 
“Why am I cleaning up after your dog?” 
“Because you tried to steal her,” he says, “and I’ve already done this three times today and I’m really sick of it.” 
You shake your head but pull off a paper towel and press it into the stain. 
“We’re going out tomorrow night, by the way,” Chenle says. “And you’ve passed two weekends in a row so you’ve hit a cap for the month. You have to come with, no ‘buts.’” 
Apparently the grace period of pity is over. Whatever, it’ll be nice to do something other than hiding in your room watching Powerpuff Girls. And maybe you will see him. Maybe you’ll get an answer to the giant question mark that’s lodged itself in your heart when Chenle told he dropped out. Maybe the little caterpillar of hope that’s survived these past few weeks can metamorphize. 
And maybe he’ll break your heart again. But you won’t get any answers daydreaming. 
.
.
How Renjun can still drink Tequila, you truly do not understand. Ever since his birthday, the thought of it makes your stomach flip, and you didn’t even drink that much. But he sips on the margarita, insisting it doesn’t taste like alcohol. 
“It’s disgusting,” you say, pushing it closer to him. “I am not drinking this.” 
He rolls his eyes. “You do realize the whole gimmick of this place is all their drinks are made with tequila, right?” 
“No one told me that!” You glare at Chenle, who showed up at your door at exactly 8:00pm and dragged you to the bar. “For the record, I would have pre-gamed. But I guess I can be the babysitter tonight.” 
Chenle cheers. “Donghyuck, you’re back in! YN is babysitting!” 
Your drink slides down the table to Donghyuck, interrupting whatever ‘conversation’ he was having with Jisung. 
“I thought the whole point of dragging you out was to make you have fun,” he says. 
“You better be fun, then,” you say. 
Donghyuck raises his eyebrows but eventually take a long sip. “Brain freeze!” He cries, clutching his forehead. You laugh with the rest of the guys. It’s almost normal, except you can’t help but peek at the door whenever somebody walks in. 
The night passes and the guys get more drunk. The bar gets more crowded–soon you are squished between Renjun and Chenle, barely able to breathe as the music slowly gets louder. The tequila looks more and more appealing but the guys need at least one person sober to make it back alive: Chenle arm wrestles a stranger while Donghyuck has some poor soul cornered, practicing his pick up lines. 
When Chenle loses, you push past him, muttering something about fresh air that they probably can’t hear. You push through the crowd of drunk people, trying not to remember the last time you did this. 
You squint at the steps, edges difficult to see with so little light. Who builds a bar on the second floor of a building? You make it to the final step but misjudge how close it is and your foot slips off the edge, sending you tumbling forward. You might have caught yourself, but you don’t have to—strong arms catch you mid fall, wrapping around your waist and swinging you clean off the stairs and onto solid ground. You aren’t surprised at all to look into Jaemin’s eyes as he lets go. 
He frowns at you, eyes so dark they look black. Maybe it’s the lack of light, but the twinkle in his eyes, the glint you’ve come to recognize as trouble, is missing. 
“Hi,” you say. 
He drops his arms, stuffing his hands into his back pockets. “So you’re talking to me now?” 
An apology begins on your lips but you can’t push it out. Not when you still don’t understand. “Can we talk?” 
He glances at you. “Have you been drinking?” 
You shake your head.  
“Okay.” He doesn’t walk away, folding his arms over his chest. 
When you imagined this conversation, the sun shined so that you could see the warmth in his eyes. He smiled at you, called you silly for ever doubting him. The Jaemin in your head wouldn’t ever do something to hurt you. 
But Jaemin doesn’t exist in your head–it’s far past time you learned that. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. “I shouldn’t have just cut you off. But I thought… I don’t know what I thought, let alone what I think now.” You force yourself to meet his cold eyes, searching for a hint of warmth. “Chenle told me you dropped out of the presidency.” 
He nods slowly. 
“But Renjun told me that someone told him that the presidency is the only reason you ever pretended to like me, but if you dropped out then I really don’t get it. Not that I ever got it in the first place, though, because you’re you and I’m me, and everyone kept telling me that, like I didn’t already know that you are supposed to be a persimmon and grow on a tree far far away from my lemon or pomegranate or whatever kind of fruit I am, because the point is we were never meant to be.” You take a deep breath, realizing that you don’t exactly sound sane. “What I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t make sense. It made sense when you were trying to cheat me out of the presidency, but you dropped out. And it doesn’t make sense.” 
Jaemin blinks slowly at you. “You would rather believe that I was trying to rob your presidency than that I actually like you?” 
“Do you?” 
He frowns. “Of course I do. I like you so much I think about things I’ve never wanted before, the silly shit–watching horror movies as an excuse to cuddle, having picnics by the river, buying groceries together–I wanted to do all of it with you. 
“You talk a lot about how we’re different people—who gives a shit? If I’m the type of person that wants to be with you and you’re the type of person that wants to be with me, why does any of that matter?” He takes a step closer to you, and you can see you were wrong. His eyes aren’t cold, they’re full of emotion, dark waves of hurt. “What do I have to do to prove it to you? Should I tell you how pretty you are? How incredibly smart you are—not fake smart like me, but really smart. And when I’m around you, I like who I am. I know it’s cheesy but you bring out the best in me. 
“I know I fucked up. I should have told you how I felt before anything else, and I shouldn’t have left. I regretted it as soon as I was gone but it was terrifying to lay next to you and give you my bare heart, even when I didn’t think you would ever try to hurt me.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know if it hurts more thinking that you never wanted a relationship or thinking that I’d ever stoop that low. I mean, everyone tells me about my reputation, but I didn’t think you cared about any of that.” 
Tears prick at your eyes. How could you be such an idiot? Listening to all the wrong people, especially yourself. Jaemin doesn’t exist in another world, he isn’t any kind of fruit. He’s a boy that you like that likes you back. It doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, reaching a tentative hand out to rest against his arm. “I’m so sorry.” He drops his head, sighing. “I was an idiot.” 
He sighs, staring at your hand. You start to drop it but he grabs it, squeezing your fingers. “Where do we go from here?” 
You study him, eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. Jaemin who is not a fruit, not an alien, just a boy. 
“Hey.” You reach out and cup his cheek, waiting for him to meet your eyes. “My name is YN. I think you’re really cute.” 
For a heartbeat he doesn’t move. Then he smiles, cheek rising underneath your hand. “Hey, my name is Jaemin. I think you’re really cute too.” 
“Oh really?” You slide your hand to the back of his neck, wrapping your other arm across it. His arms wrap on your waist, pulling you into a hug. He squeezes you flush against him, head tucked into your shoulder just as yours is tucked into his. 
“I know we can’t start over,” he says, “but can we start again?” 
“How about this time we just talk to each other?” You say, tapping your fingers on his shoulder. “No more rumors and gossip.” 
He nods, chin digging into your neck a little. “I swear, I won’t give you any reason to doubt me ever again. I won’t be the kind of guy your friends call a red flag.” 
You loosen your grip and lean back to look him in the eye. “Wait, did they seriously say that to you?” 
“I ran into Donghyuck after I dropped out and we had a very… one sided conversation with his side doing all the talking,” Jaemin says, “and Renjun made it obvious from the start that he didn’t like me.” 
You laugh a little, then even more when he pouts. “You’ll win them over again.” 
“They really don’t like me,” he says. 
You cup his cheek again. “You’ll change their minds.” He leans into your touch, closing his eyes. You lean forward, resting your forehead against his. He gasps a little, hands tightening on your waist. 
“Now, am I remembering incorrectly, or are you an amazing kisser?” You ask. 
He grins, leaning forward and closing the distance without wasting a second. Neither of you can stop smiling, lips and teeth gnashing together but it’s still the best kiss you’ve ever had. 
.
.
You stretch an arm out, only to find more bed instead of empty space. You sit up, shivering as the blanket falls away. Right, you fell asleep in Jaemin’s bed. His room is much bigger than yours, sharing an apartment with Jeno. He has enough room for a dresser and a nicer desk, even a chair. It seems he lied to you about being messy, because even when you show up unannounced, like today, his clothes are neatly folded and the biggest mess you’ve found has been three dirty dishes in the sink (which you later found out were Jeno’s). 
Jeno, apparently, isn’t all bad–he did let you in even though your boyfriend was still out. He doesn’t fully trust you, but then again, your friends don’t hide their mistrust of Jaemin either. You maintain your earlier stance that time will heal that wound. 
You hear a knife against a cutting board coming from the kitchen, so you wrap the blanket around your shoulders and shuffle towards the sound, unable to stop the smile from spreading up your lips when you turn the corner and find Jaemin standing at the counter. He glances behind him and grins at you, and even though you just woke up from a nap and probably have messy hair and marks on your face, he says, “you look sexy.” 
“So cheesy,” you say. He laughs and turns back around. You slip behind him and wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his back and closing your eyes. He radiates warmth better than any blanket. It’s too easy to lean against him, take a deep breath of the scent of his laundry detergent and cling to him. Jaemin moves slowly, careful not to hit you by accident. 
“What’re you doing?” 
“A surprise,” he says, “at least my attempt at one.” He sets down the knife on the counter and taps on your hands, pulling them apart gently and spinning around to face you before setting your hands back on his waist. He tilts his head at you when you purse your lips and frown. “What’s wrong?” 
“Still no ass,” you say, patting him a little lower than his waist. 
“Hey!” He sticks his lower lip out. “I’m trying.” 
“No one’s perfect,” you say, sliding your hands back up and sneaking a kiss to his cheek. 
“You are,” he says, cupping your face to kiss you properly. Jaemin still kisses like it’s his last chance, drawing out every moment, lips lingering on yours until your head spins. It’s only when you can’t breathe that he finally pulls away.  
“Good answer,” you say. 
He smiles. “If you come to the gym with me I’d be more motivated to get an ass you’d be proud of.” 
“You send enough pictures for me to know that if I saw you at the gym I would never survive,” you say. “You want me to die?” 
He laughs, squishing your face together with his hands. “If anyone’s going to die, it’s going to be me, because you are too cute.” 
He presses another kiss to your lips, still squished together in a pout. He laughs at the outrage on your face, letting go of your cheeks and slipping his hands behind your neck, kissing you one more time for real, letting go far too early. 
“The surprise,” he says. He lets go of you with one arm, turning to the cutting board and holding up a slice of what he was cutting. It looks a little bit like a tomato, though it’s more orange than red, and about the size of a golf ball. 
“A persimmon?” 
“I still don’t really get the persimmon thing,” he says, “but I’ve never tried one.” 
You blink at him. Jaemin makes it so easy to fall in love. He holds the piece closer to your mouth, waiting for you to open. A persimmon tastes sweet and mild and rich, a little bit like honey. Jaemin eats his own piece, frowning and nodding. 
“No more magical mystical fruit,” Jaemin says. 
“You’re going to make an amazing trophy husband,” you say. You tap him on the nose. “Maybe we could even be a power couple.” 
He grins. “We’ll be so cool. Like Beyoncé and her husband.” 
“Jay-Z?”
“Whatever.” Jaemin flips his hand. “The important part is that I am Beyoncé.” 
You smack his shoulders softly. “Hell no, Beyoncé would never have a flat ass.” 
“It always comes back to the ass.” He sighs. “Be honest: are you embarrassed by me?” 
Once you never thought he could be embarrassing. That was before you knew he staked his career on a soap opera and wears jorts to the gym, before he called you drunk just to confess he accidentally stole your pencil, before he spent three hours putting up campaign posters for you (and then another two getting written up by campus police for not having permission). Before you fell in love with him. 
“By you? Never.” You pat his cheeks. “Your ass leaves much to be desired, though.” 
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thank you for reading!
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daegall · 7 months
Text
☆ drunk confessions.
➷ in which a drunk person's words is a sober person's thoughts.
pairing: (opla!)zoro x (implied fem!) reader
genre: fluff, slight angst, slight crack, mutual pining, friends to lovers!AU (ish..?)
warnings: lots and lots of alcohol, none after that but if you find one i can add lmk!! (+ lots and love of love for smiley zoro!!!!)
word count: 3.4k words (SHEESH)
a/n: requested by @acupnoodle !! tysm bae for the request, i hope you like it!!!! my inbox is now open for requests for opla (mostly zoro tbh LOL) if anyone would like to request ^^ (make sure its sfw as i am a minor!!!)
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This is sick. This is just so sick.
Okay, maybe Zoro could be exaggerating. But what else is supposed to think, when you, the you who he has feelings for, is in the kitchen with Sanji, the annoying cook who he bickers with at least 5 times a day?
And especially since the day Sanji got him to blurt out about his feelings for you while he was drunk?
Zoro never thought he'd say it, but maybe he should lay low with the booze.
The swordsman can only grumble and huff as Luffy goes on and on about something—he hears something about Shanks. But all Zoro can do, is replay the memory of you sitting on the counter, right next to Sanji, who was peeling a few apples, and with a small frown on your face at that.
First, he thought maybe the cook had hurt you in any way. Then he realized it couldn't be, you'd be marching away from him. Then he assumed it could be you, with some personal trouble. But then you would always, without a fail, go to Zoro for help in that case.
Then, Zoro came to his final conclusion.
He had hurt you in some way.
But how could he? He'd never even consider the thought—he'd kill anyone who'd hurt you, because he cares—
No.
There's no way.
Sanji didn't tell you about his feelings... right?
Indeed he didn't. But Zoro doesn't know that.
What he also doesn't know, is the fact that you went to Sanji to talk about your best friend himself.
"He's been avoiding me," You mumble out weakly, picking at a few crumbs left on the counter. Gross, but hey, it's a pirate ship. There could be much worse things than a few specks of food. "I don't remember if I did anything wrong,"
Sanji knows you didn't. In fact, it was all his fault that Zoro was avoiding you. At the moment, having the usually stoic, cold swordsman admit his feelings for you with a dopey smile, the most loving tone as he describes every little thing about you, it seemed like the best thing on Earth. The man who everyone thought would never break, broke, all because of you.
But now, Sanji thinks it's stupid. He thinks it's stupid that Zoro's avoiding you because one person knew about his feelings. How cowardly could he be? But then again, he has absolutely no experience in relationships.
Sanji offers you an apple slice, his voice comforting and soft. "I don't think it's you," He smiles when you take the apple, taking a bite. "you could never wrong him."
"Then what is it?" Your voice is laced with such helplessness, a tone of worry and guilt buried underneath. It breaks Sanji's heart to see you like this. You play with the bracelet on your wrist, something Zoro had bought you when you were at a small town. You hadn't taken it off since, and it's been 3 months.
3 months marks your feelings for him as well.
"Why don't you ask him?"
At this question, your head whips to Sanji's direction, shaking instantly. "No! Hell no, it'd make him hate me even more!"
"Y/N..." Sanji's hands are suddenly on your shoulders, his eyes glistening with genuine care. It shocks you how serious he is about the whole situation. "he doesn't hate you. You might be the only one he genuinely feels safe with, you hear me?"
It's silent for a moment, as you bask in his words, the words in which hit you unexpectedly deeply. Yes, there have been times you've patched him up after a particularly harsh fight, yes, you both have shed tears together, and yes, he lets you touch his swords and lets you use—holy shit, Roronoa Zoro does care about you!
You decide to ask him, just as Sanji had suggested you do.
Zoro, on the other hand, has a different plan.
Despite the wallowing pit in his stomach, occupied by the green monster labeled as jealousy, Zoro knows you wouldn't go for Sanji. He's like an older brother to you.
But alas, he cannot control his emotions. And so, he's come up with possibly the worst plan ever.
Roronoa Zoro is going to flirt with you. The same way Sanji flirts with Nami.
It's stupid, he knows it's stupid, but Zoro is desperate. He's never felt this way towards anyone, ever, and his pride is way too big for him to ask advice from anyone on the crew.
"Zoro!"
Said man's heartrate doubles the moment he realizes it's your voice, your sweet, sweet voice calling out to him. Oh, how special he feels now, to have you by his side, to have you care for him and make him smile, how has he not realized how blessed he was just in your presence?
Okay, maybe Zoro was exaggerating.
He glances over his shoulder, attempting to act cool with a neutral face, as he murmurs. "What is it?"
As cold as ever, his gaze pierces yours. But... there's something different in it. It's colder.
Of course, this wasn't Zoro's intentions, clearly just trying to act cool and not confess his feelings for you right then and there, but the ice in his tone, his gaze, his aura, has your heart sinking.
Maybe he really did hate you now.
"Do you mind if we could talk?"
God, just the thought of having a chat with you has Zoro's heart soaring, his whole mind and being flooding with tenderness knowing that you'd always talk to him.
"What's up?" He sighs, fully turning around to you. His body language is the usual, calm and collected, the usual hand on his swords. Zoro is thankful you can't get a look inside, you'd be seeing a whole zoo and his running thoughts about how pretty you look today.
You step closer to Zoro.
"Did... did I do something wrong?"
This time, Zoro's heart twists in confusion.
Wrong? You? How could you ever think that?
"Because if I have, don't hesitate to tell me—"
"—your face."
What?
Holy shit, Zoro thinks you're ugly?
"...Is this your way of telling someone they're ugly?"
To be frank, you're kind of glad it's not about anything that you did, that would break you.
However, him directly telling you you're ugly? You never really cared if anyone called you ugly, but Roronoa Zoro? The only man you'd every trust? Your own crush?
Your heart twists in pain.
"No! No, that's not what I meant,"
Zoro's heartstrings tug at the sight of your pained face, the frown curling on your lips, he should never open his mouth ever again.
"I-I just meant that... you..."
He feels his cheeks warm up. Is he blushing?!
"you look really pretty today,"
Those were the very last words you would have expected coming out of Zoro's mouth.
A silence envelops the air. It's... awkward, to say the least, but a little endearing, with the both of you shyly looking away.
Zoro thinks you're pretty.
Absolutely stunning with your pursed lips trying to contain a smile, the glint in your eyes known as relief, and a little hint of mischief.
"Thanks," You mumble quietly, shrugging, though you're a far cry from casual.
Zoro mirrors you, leaning his hip onto the ship railing. "Don't mention it."
And you don't. Not for the next few hours, at least.
To say Zoro's plan of flirting with you failed, was quite the understatement. Sure, he finally got to say what he's been holding in for months, but he was expecting Sanji level flattery, the teasing smiles and confidence, not whatever the two of you went through.
Zoro feels like an idiot.
You, on the other hand, quite enjoyed it. it was genuine, and unlike Sanji's flirting, it's left you thinking about the moment for hours after it's passed. It seemed so genuine, carefully thought out (though it wasn't) and soft, something you didn't know Zoro could be.
You like Zoro's flirting much more than Sanji's. Though, that may be due to the fact that you have feelings for the swordsman.
The sun sets, leaving the pirate ship quiet (for once) and calm, just like the ocean, with it's soft waves and tranquil energy.
What isn't tranquil tonight, is you.
Instead of going to sleep, you've decided to have a drink. Yes, you may have stolen from Zoro's hidden stash in which he only showed you. Yes, you may have had more than one drink.
3, to be precise.
Why? Well, how are you supposed to go on the night? Simply thinking over and over about Zoro's words? His words that have left a permanent place in your heart? Your mind and soul?
How are you supposed to spend the night thinking about a man who you were sure hated you, who called you pretty and set your heart on fire, without a drink?
Besides, what's the worst that could happen?
Maybe the fact that Zoro wants a drink tonight as well.
Okay, yeah, he did say he was gonna lay low with the booze. But bad habits die hard. He's bound to drink a little here and there.
The moment he gets to the kitchen, Zoro is shocked at the sight of you, sitting on the counter, with a bottle of his beer in your hands. Your eyes are droopy, almost sleepy, a stupid lopsided smile spreading on your lips. The bottle has Zoro's name on it, written on the tape and pasted lousily over the brand name, and seeing you eye the writing and mumble his name has Zoro's heart pounding, filling with such unexpected fondness for you, ready to burst as such a volcano would.
"That's my booze,"
Your eyes blink tiredly, with no energy, as they trail to Zoro, and when you spot him, he can't believe the way your frown completely transforms into a bright grin.
"Zoro! Hey! Yeaahh, it has your name on it,"
He's shocked when you extend your hand with the bottle in it, shaking it side to side lightly. "Wanna sip?"
Your 'p' pops, and Zoro can't help but find it utterly endearing.
"Don't mind if I do," He murmurs with a small smile, wrapping his fingers around the bottle. He doesn't miss the way you maneuver your fingers to brush with his, catching your smile once they've made contact. His fingers are warm, and slightly rough.
Life of a swordsman, you suppose.
When he takes a sip of the bottle, you scooch over on the counter, tapping the space beside you. "Come join me!" Under the low light of the moon shining through the window, you look unexpectedly elegant, despite your tipsiness, the rays settling on your cheek just right.
Zoro complies, but simply leans against the counter. He takes another swig. "Any reason as to why you're here alone? Drinking my booze?"
"Been thinking," you say simply, reaching over to fiddle with a bandage on Zoro's forearm. The action is an abrupt source of serotonin to him.
His voice is laced with care and curiosity, as he asks you, "Thinking about what?"
"You,"
Oh how you never fail to get him shy. His eyes grow wide, but with the little alcohol in his system, he supposes it could work as liquid luck for tonight.
"Yeah? What about me?"
You chuckle, drunkenly, your eyes flitting from the bandage on his arm to his own eyes, no hints of hesitation or doubt. "How pretty you are,"
"You think I'm pretty?"
"Mhm," You nod. A hand is placed on your cheek, as you lean on it and continue to gaze at Zoro, almost dreamily. "your smile is pretty,"
At the mention of his smile, it appears almost instantly, and causes you to swoon even more, if it were possible. "You like my smile?"
You sigh, your own grin joining his. "Always,"
You decide to elaborate even more, deciding your sober self will have to deal with the embarrassment of rejection later.
"And you've got these freckles on your cheeks and nose, from all the hours in the sun, I always tell you to use sunscreen,"
It's true, you do.
Zoro only chuckles lightly, growing fonder and fonder of you every time you speak.
"and I love how ambitious you are to become the worlds greatest swordsman. You're always the best. To me, at least."
God, Zoro might kiss you right then and there.
"And you're so caring for everyone on the crew, don't deny it, I always see the way you do! Helping Usopp clean the ship and tie knots, listening to Luffy's nonsense rambling and storing all the maps for Nami, even for Sanji! Always buying the right ingredients for him," You breathe out a soft laugh. "and you care about me too. I think. I mean, you're always there when I have a problem personally or not, sometimes I think maybe... we could have some connection, you know? And other days... it seems like you despise me."
What?
How could you ever think he could despise you? Sure, there are some instances where you disagree with each other, but he does not hate you. He could never even think about it.
Before Zoro could comment on it, you carry on, voice growing louder and louder.
"Did I mention I love your smile?"
Zoro can't help but chuckle, reaching over to brush a few strands of your hair from your eyes. Wow, that took him more confidence than he thought.
"Yes, you have, Y/N."
"Oh... then let me mention it more," A sheepish smile grazes your lips, as you lean in close to observe his smile once you realize he is.
"And your lips. They're pretty too,"
Your eyes squint as you lean in closer, so close that your noses brush against one another. Zoro doesn't find the will in him to lean in, neither to pull back either. He simply sits there, his heart growing softer and softer when you purse your lips and tilt your head, shaking it.
"they look lonely," you state. "wanna meet mine?"
Oh, you're cute.
With the confident, almost cocky smile on your lips, eyes growing wider and wider as Zoro starts laughing.
Through your drunken eyes, seeing him smile is one thing. One thing enough to set you rambling and rambling about how much you enjoy it. Hearing him laugh? You could talk about it for hours, but you'd have too many things to say at once, you'd be left speechless. And that's exactly what happens at the moment, as you're left gaping at the sweet melody of his laughs, simply keeping your loving gaze on him.
"I'm not kidding, Zoro." You mumble. "I love you, I do."
For months, Roronoa Zoro has been so unsure about himself around you. Is he enough? Will he ever be enough? But now, hearing you state that you love him, he's sure. He loves you too, more than he could ever comprehend, and he won't doubt himself anymore.
He leans in, bumping your foreheads together clumsily. Though it hurts for a moment, it's fond, caring, as he smiles softly at your drunk state.
You could just be drunk right now.
None of this could be true.
Zoro doesn't care. If it's true or not, there has to be a reason you're telling him this. He'll ask you when you're sober.
Speaking of, "I won't kiss you," He says.
Your heart plummets to the ground, you can feel it deep in your chest, crashing through the base of the ship and sinking to the bottom of the sea, buried under such hurt hearing his words.
It lifts a moment later, however, as he places his lips on your cheek lovingly, a kiss to your forehead following.
"not when you're drunk. Don't wanna take advantage of you,"
"But you're not—"
"—I know, but it won't feel the same,"
Really, all Zoro wants to do, is place just one kiss on your lips, your lips that pout as you look up at him, hold you so closely to him, finally accept his feelings and make a move.
But, he'll wait for the morning. He'd wait forever just for you.
And as he leaves, warning you to stop drinking his booze, you're left... with a half heart. Half full with love, knowing Zoro could very much feel the same way for you, half empty, sad to have made so much effort (getting drunk should not be the way to confess to your crush) just for him to leave you hanging.
That's on you, you suppose.
He makes a very good point about the whole 'taking advantage' thing.
You guess you'll be too much of a coward when you wake up sober, too scared to fully confess, too scared to even look at him.
Zoro could not disagree more. He swears, the moment the sun has risen and you're awake, he's going to make you his. All his to hold, all his to take care of and protect, all his to love.
And as the day starts, both your minds are instantly flooded with thoughts of the other. The moment you see him, yawning as he listens to Luffy's rambling, your heart starts racing.
You don't remember that much from last night.
All you remember is the feeling of Zoro's warm lips on your skin, his caring gaze, and the ridiculous amount of alcohol you had drank. Sure, it was a far cry from how much Zoro would usually drink, but it's still a big amount to you.
Zoro has last night's events imprinted in his mind, every lingering glance he sends your way, every shy smile the two of you share, the way you scurry away quickly with an embarrassed scrunch of your nose, it takes him back to the night.
And finally, some alone time.
You find Zoro in the kitchen, checking on his booze stash, the one you had invaded the night before.
"Sorry about that, by the way," You call out, announcing your presence.
Zoro's heart soars just at the sound of your voice, small, almost guilty, and when he turns around, seeing you sit on the counter, just as you had last night, he can't stop the smile from tugging his lips upward. "It's no problem," He shrugs. "you'd never bother me,"
Roronoa Zoro, the lone wolf, the harsh swordsman saying that to you says a lot.
He approaches your figure slowly, growing more and more confident once he's realized that's exactly what you want. It's exactly what he wants too.
Finally, he's stopped right in front of you, your knees brushing slightly against his shirt. You look down at your hands placed on your laps, too shy to say anything, nor even look up at him.
"Hey," A sudden touch at your chin shocks you, and you eventually melt against his hold as he tilts your head up to meet his eyes. Like a magnet, you grow closer collectively, up until Zoro has both his hands sitting by your hips, your noses once again brushing.
This scene seems familiar.
You conclude it's what had been done last night, when he had kissed along the skin of your cheeks.
"I'm not drunk anymore," You whisper out.
Zoro chuckles, causing your entire being to wave with warmth of safety and comfort. "Yeah, I can see that."
"So you gonna give me that kiss or—"
Zoro's lips feel much warmer than you expected. They feel complete, pressed against your softly, almost hesitantly. The moment your fingers graze against his jaw, he relaxes, leaning in deeper to not only kiss your lips, but your entire soul, with love and solace, finally coming to terms with his feelings.
God, does Roronoa Zoro love you so much. He loves the way your hands creep up to mess up his (already disheveled) hair, the sigh you let out against his lips, the way you chase his lips once he's pulled away.
"What exactly did I say last night?" You mumble against his lips once he's pulled away, grabbing at his hand to play lightly with his fingers.
"Well, you mentioned how much you loved my smile," Zoro chuckles. There he goes once again, with his pretty smile and laugh, leaving you speechless and starstruck. "like, a lot."
"Did I mention that I love you?"
Zoro feels a warmth bubble from his stomach, feeling it envelop his chest, his arms and fingers when you finally intertwine your hands in a lock, his cheeks as they redden, and his lips as he finally gives you one last flash of the smile you claim to adore so much.
It's love.
"Yeah," He leans in to press your foreheads together. "I think I love you more,"
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saerotonins · 6 months
Text
actor!satoru headcanons
ft. gojo satoru x reader
content warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive, implied gojo satoru x reader
wc: 573
jjk actor au masterlist
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as an actor:
when he became a rising actor, many people found out that his parents' names were also big in the acting industry 
people immediately assumed that he's just a nepo baby with no talent and only got to where he is due to his parents' wealth and fame
but boy did he prove them WRONG
he's actually so good at his craft that his acting captivated many people
people are also shocked that he studied and actually has a bachelor's degree in fine arts
so yeah, this man is EDUCATED 
a fun fact that many didn't believe is that he wasn't actually even supposed to be an actor and only wanted to help produce and even create his own films
but when he helped producing a film, the director thought he would be a good eye candy on screen and encouraged him to try acting
he first landed some minor roles until more and more people paid attention to him, which helped him unleash his full potential as an actor
if you think he's goofy and silly in jjk, you best believe he is even MORE silly and goofy irl 😭
but he's literally the sunshine of the set so his goofiness really helps in easing the stress of his co-stars and the filming crew
if nanami's the one bringing drinks to the set, he's the one who brings TOO MANY sweets, specifically mochis
it's also ones that are really expensive too like 
doesn't drink coffee because he hates the bitter taste of it, maybe he'll drink one if it's sweet enough (aka doesn't taste like coffee at all), so nanami only buys him fruit teas and frappes LOL
he's also a detail-oriented man so his acting is really GOD TIER and is really keen on nailing every subtle detail whenever he is on screen
definitely very active on ig LOL acts like it's a dump account and is very interactive with his fans in the comment section
his ig composed of various selfies, photo dumps, promotions, his s/o, and definitely a lot of foods
i'd like to think that he also has his youtube channel as well
he posts vlogs and some behind the scenes when he's shooting a drama or magazine shoots 
tries, keyword: tries, not to show spoilers
pls save the directors from him for almost having heart attacks
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as a boyfriend:
he really likes to tease you by making you help him practice his lines that needs him to use his hottest voice like bae, FOCUS 
he also practices the fight scenes with you btw 
but he's REALLY annoying about it please
remember that jogo scene? no, the one in shibuya
yeah, he made you feel his entire length like WOAH THERE DUDE? that ain't on the script for sure 😭
also comes home really late but makes up by cuddling you extra longer in the mornings
borrows your lip glosses and takes them to the set because he refuses to buy one and that "it makes your bond as a couple grow stronger" istg
now you know why his lips always look like that on screen LOL
puts them on right before going to the shoot so he can kiss you good with his glossy lips
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