#honestly though man i love old people who love each other

[diino8081]

hear me out guys

platonic ed n edna

they give the vibes

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ bad liar ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @gothic-rat112 (lost the ask...) ˚₊ ⊹

ft. seong gi-hun x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ how he is when jealous & insecure┊1.2k words 

setting: season 1 contains: age gap relationship (unspecified but legal obviously), insecurity & jealousy, he’s a little immature & broke as hell but it’s okay i love pathetic men, reader is a sweetheart, this is all over the place omfg

➤ author's note: okay i kinda went on a tangent, first season because i miss his stupid smile and his fluffy hair (also look at how cute he is in this gif omfg i love him sm, i need to write for him more, underrated in his own show, THE PUPPY EYES)

╰₊✧ honestly, gi-hun isn’t so much as jealous as he is insecure. sure, he has an outgoing personality and always makes you laugh without fail, but he can’t think of any other positive traits aside from that. he doesn’t think of himself as particularly attractive with his scruffy appearance, and he’s painfully aware that he’s lacking when it comes to finances and has a gambling problem to boot. on top of all that, he was a divorced middle-aged man who didn’t even have joint custody of his only daughter and still lived with his mom rent-free, a terrible husband, father, and son— he’s truthfully the type of man people avoid when dating.

╰₊✧ yet he still managed to pull a pretty young thing like you who looks past all that, not sure if you were stupid or desperate. during the first few weeks of being together, he made jokes about still being able to date younger women in his old age because he was still in disbelief it was happening, but when you stuck by his side through all his flaws and the first year passed with you supporting him to get better, insecurity hit him like a ton of bricks when he realized that he was genuinely in love with you and that he didn’t have what it took to be the boyfriend you deserved when he wasn’t even someone his biological family deserved. 

╰₊✧ he sees other people buying their girls jewelry and clothing from name-brand stores, taking them out to eat in luxury restaurants with multiple courses, driving them around in european cars, and he’s out here saving money to do something as little as cake for your anniversary. he’s always on cloud nine when he spends time with you, but there’s something so humbling about looking up “broke date ideas” and scraping together what he already has to make it more special. no matter how much things like that don’t matter to you with the mindset of the intention counting more than the price, he still feels shitty about having you pay for most of the things you do together when he’s the man and the older one in the relationship along with the fact that you were barely better off than he was. 

walks around to admire the sights: especially during holiday seasons when there are pretty lights, you like holding his hand and admiring the sights of the city you often take for granted. if the streets are empty then he doesn’t mind it, but he does get self-conscious about the looks you both get so it’s not super common.

candlelit dinners of takeout and beer: a regular one, gi-hun likes to gather a bunch of candles to make the place look a little more romantic, maybe even having some roses to make it look nicer. the man doesn’t cook much though, so you’ll just have replated takeout with bottles of beer, but he always makes it lively with conversation and puts effort into fixing his hair to look more handsome.

and anything else he can think of, he can be really creative when it comes to you and you’re pleasantly surprised each time.

╰₊✧ these things bother him a lot more than he will let on, but he tries to stay all smiles around you which you see right through like glass. he’s a bad liar, a trait he would always get in trouble for when he was a child since he couldn’t lie about his antics.

╰₊✧ he feels awful when he finds that you also entered these games to pay off your respective debts, because no matter how much you try to convince him you aren’t, he knows that you intended to use any extra money to help him out as well with his debt being higher than yours. it should be the other way around, he should be the one helping you, and when the first shots are fired during “red light, green light,” he makes you swear that you won’t come back.

╰₊✧ of course, you do come back, because while he is your boyfriend, you’re also a grown-ass woman who can do what she pleases (also because you’re desperate and prefer not to find out what those loan sharks would do to you if it took too long to pay them back, and you might as well go to support gi-hun because you know his ass went back).

╰₊✧ he feels a little bit better about himself seeing all of the other people in a similar position as him, drowning in debt and petrified of death. he tries to be protective over you, but let’s be honest, you’re the protective one who mothers him, and since the constant threat of death is always looming, he lets you do it even if it looks stupid. people are either judgemental or jealous, but there are bigger things to worry about.

“people are staring…” he muttered, his eyes darting around to meet theirs and watching as they looked away the second eye contact was made. “you don’t need to do this, you know, it’s a little embarrassing.”

“i don’t care, let them stare,” you stated simply, rubbing into the back of his shoulders with practiced circular motions. “they are just jealous that they don’t have a cute girlfriend to take care of them like you do, and i want to! your muscles are so tense— i don’t want you participating in the next games when you aren’t in the best shape. we could die any day here, i want to give you all the love i can!”

╰₊✧ jealous of sang-woo with his intelligence and emotional security. even if both of them are wearing the same teal tracksuit, his childhood friend was in here because of failed investments which sounded a lot better than just losing constant bets in gambling dens. (to be fair, if you were gi-hun’s controversially young girlfriend, i don’t think either of you would get along well as he probably looks down on you and you probably find him stuck up, so he doesn’t have to worry about you being stolen away by him). not really jealous of that block-head deok-su hitting on you, after the little altercation they had on the first day, more annoyed than anything but the feeling quickly vanishes when he sees you reject him with a roll of your eyes. 

╰₊✧ actually jealous of anyone your age paying attention to you, especially ali who has a really sweet personality and gets along with you really well, maybe even sae-byeok who has a pretty face and is decently nice once you get to know her. 

“you need to stop pouting.”

“‘m not pouting…”

“you’re a bad liar, you know that? but it’s so cute,” you exclaimed, reaching out to pinch his cheeks childishly. “you don’t need to be jealous of ali, he’s already married and has a kid.”

“i know, i know…”

“i don’t think you do.”

╰₊✧ it’s so obvious when he’s jealous, it’s actually painful. he stares holes into the head of the person talking to you and is pouty until you address it. he’ll also blush when you call him out and tease him about it, it’s so cute. please give him assurance, pinch his cheeks, ruffle his fluffy hair, and give him lots of kisses, he deserves it.

(author is slightly delirious with a fever, i took medicine dw, i just really wanna kiss gihun)

[thehouseofurmotha]

`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.✰ 𝕃𝕠𝕦𝕕 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖 ✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´★

Pairing: Bakugou x Aizawa's Daughter Reader

Warnings: Fluff, lots of fluff! Bakugou is vry anxious, a lil bit of cussing, possibly ooc Bakugou

Summery: you finally convince your boyfriend Katsuki Bakugou to meet your father. Little do they both know they already know each other.

"Katsuuuuuu" you whine pouting at your grumpy boyfriend. Even though you know that his anger is nothing more than a cover for every other emotion he's feeling, and right now you can tell he's anxious. No matter how many times you have asked him to meet your father you've been turned down with a simple 'I'm not ready yet', and even if you understands the boy's anxiety it doesn't make you any less disappointed.

"S'not that I don't wanna meet him doll, you know I do. Jus' what if he thinks I'm not good enough for you. You're just so perfect, and so calculated. Then m'jus reckless me." Letting out a long sigh afterwards because he really does want to meet the man who raised the girl he's so lucky to call his girlfriend, but he's scared. Rightfully so he thinks, because he really never will be good enough to deserve you.

"Kats, he's going to love you. I know me telling you probably won't end up changing how you feel, but you are good enough for me. You're everything I want, you treat me better than anyone else could, and if my father cannot see that he is painfully blind." You haven't had the heart to tell him who exactly your father is, especially with it being his teacher. You know it would only freak him out more, and that's the last thing that you need to do.

You know your boyfriend honestly probably better than you know yourself. As you've known him since you were in middle school. You can read him in a way no one else can. They see his brash. angry personality on the outside and they immediately assume that's all he is. Is a loud angry kid, but you, you see the parts of him that no one else is allowed to. You see the passion he has, the love he has for saving people, you see his softness. He's a different person around you. You bring out the best in him in ways that no one else could ever dream to do. As he does to you, because he also sees the parts of you nobody else has been allowed to see before. He knows your greatest fears, and the things that inspire you. He's supportive of your dreams as you are his. He'd never judge you, especially about the fact that you're not becoming a hero. Instead opting to take general studies at U.A. where you focus your studies on hero analysis instead.

"Do you mean it?" There's a hint of pain in his voice that would go unnoticed by anyone but you.

"Of course I do" you say as you gently cup his face with your hands. Then he gives you a look, one that is full of love. Love for you, and it's almost enough to make you tear up. But you fight it as to not spook him.

"Okay my love, I'll meet him." He gives you a small smile, and you think your heart may have melted right there.

"How about dinner at my house this Saturday kats? I'll make your favorite and we'll just have a nice evening." You say with an encouraging smile. You know how hard this must be for him and you're so incredibly proud of him.

"Okay, I'll let the old hag know that I'll be out be out for the evenin." He gently leans his forehead against yours after placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You love how gentle his is with you, like at any moment you could break in his grasp.

You giggle as you playfully hit his shoulder, "Stop calling her that Kats." Before he has the chance to respond your phone starts blasting your alarm, telling you that it's time to start your walk home.

"M'gonna miss you." He says as you carefully get out of his lap and stretch as you stand up.

"I'll call you as soon as I'm home, and we can stay on the phone all night." This answer seems to satisfy him as he stands up and gives you a kiss before grabbing your jacket to help you put it on.

"Goodbye katsu, I'll talk to you later." Giving him a peck on his cheek and opening the door to his room.

"Yeah, whatever bye nerd." Even though that would come off as rude to anyone else, it places a large smile on your face as you make your way out of his house. It really is a gorgeous house, his parents have wonderful taste.

As you start on your walk you think about how the conversation with your father will go. He'll more than likely be getting ready for his night-shift of patrol. He knew you were seeing someone but other than that he knew no details. You had never been one to share the details of your love life and he knew that, so he chose not to push. Hoping that you would trust him enough to tell him anything important.

As you arrive home, you put your key in the lock and carefully unlock the door. As you open the door to your guys apartment, you immediately see your father in the kitchen dressed in his hero suit making himself coffee. It was the only way he got through his night shifts. As he sees you he starts to walk over to you before giving you a hug and a kiss to the top of your head.

"Welcome home hun, how's your day been?" He says pulling away and giving you a smile. He knows you can handle yourself but there's a certain relief that comes with knowing that you're safe in your home.

"It's been good, but I've got something to talk to you about." As you say this his heart beats a little quicker, maybe something happened. He's already thinking of every horrible thing that could have happened to you. You gently place your hand on his shoulder taking him out of his thoughts.

"Saturday, my boyfriend's going to come over for dinner. So he can meet you." He sighs in relief, he can handle that. It's simply just meeting the boy who has stolen your heart. He's noticed the way you've changed, since you've started hanging out with that boy. You seem happier, calmer even. But all he knows is that it's been a change for the better, and he can tell this boy makes you happy. So, even though trusting someone else with the care of the most important person to him is terrifying. He knows you're happy and healthy, that's all that'll ever matter to him.

"Alright that's fine, but you're cooking cause you know I can't for shit." You let out a small giggle at this comment, because he really cannot cook to save his life.

"Already planned on it dad!" He could spend the rest of his life like this. In the sweet moments between the two of you. Due to his busy schedule he doesn't get to see you as much as he would like. Even though he knows you don't blame him, and never would he can't help but feel some guilt. He never wants you to feel like he's abandoning you in the way your mother did.

"Alright hun, I've got to leave for patrol, there's some money on the counter for you to order yourself dinner. I should be home around 3. Have a good night, I love you." Once again he plants a kiss to your forehead, with a small smile forming on his lips.

"Thank you, I love you too dad. Have a good patrol!" And with that he leaves for the night.

You spend some time debating on what to get, with the help of Katsuki's opinions. After you get your food and eat you and him both decide that it's time for bed. You fall asleep to the sound of his soft snores feeling the most content that you have in years.

The rest of your week goes by normally. With the same routine of going to school, seeing your boyfriend, and going home. A simple routine but one that you've grown to love. The normalcy of everything is so comforting to you. And before you know it Saturday has arrived. Throughout the day you're excited, you think. You're not actually really sure how you feel, you want to be exciting but then there's the thought of what if it doesn't go well. And now you're suddenly wondering if Kats will be mad that you didn't tell him who your father was. As it gets closer to the time that was agreed upon by the three of you, the panic starts to really set.

This does not go unnoticed by your father as he is an extremely observant man. Yet, for what feels like one of the first times in his life, he doesn't know how to comfort you. He wants to promise you that he'll like your boyfriend but he knows there's always a chance that promise would be broken. And he doesn't want to do that to you. He settles in just trying to tell you he'll be nice. He walks into the kitchen where you've started making curry. You're making two kinds because you know your father cannot handle the spice. You don't acknowledge his presence but he's aware you know that he is with you.

"Hey, uh I promise I'll be nice tonight, but I can't promise that I'll like him." He says as gently as he can, but he feels like that last part may have come out a little harsh.

"I know dad, it's not really you I'm worried about. He's just.. He's so anxious but it comes out in a way that's harsh, and I don't want you to think less of him." It was a hard confession for you to make to him. Fearing that he might connect the dots before your boyfriend gets here.

"I'll keep it in mind kid, because I know you're happy. I see it on your face." He walks back to his room as he says that. But it leaves a smile on your face. And it reminds you how much he truly cares about you.

You think about Katsuki the entire time you cook. Thinking about his smile that is so contagious to you. He's smiling and you are too. About his hair, and the way it's so pointy. Yet it somehow manages to be so soft too. His voice that is so loud and harsh with others, but is so gentle and soft with you. You think about the way he looks while he cooks. He'll say he enjoys your food tonight, and he might. But you both know that he is absolutely the superior cook. You think about his handsome face. Everything about it being so perfect and fitting together so well. The red of his eyes, and the small bags that fall under them. Everything about him is so perfect.

Eventually, you're interrupted from your thoughts by a knock on the door. 'Shit' you think is it really already time. You quickly go to open the door and you're pleasantly surprised at the sight in front of you. Your lovely boyfriend dressed nicer than you think you've ever seen. Wearing a nice pair of jeans and a red dress shirt that brings out his eyes. He's also holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Uh. Here these are for you." He says has he shoves them into your hands. You smile at him.

"Thank you they're gorgeous. Would you uh, like to come in?" No matter how long you guys are together you'll honestly probably always have these small awkward moments between the two of you that you've grown to love.

"Oh uh yeah." He nods his head as he accepts your invitation and walks into your house. Taking a mental note of his surroundings, the place you, the girl he loves lives. He thinks it's simple, but nice, even more than his own house.

"Uh, by the way don't kill me for not telling you." You hear your father start coming down the hall and feel this is your last chance to say anything. And you decide to plead for your life. He looks at you with complete and utter confusion.

"Huh?" He says this as your father walks into the room and as the realization hits him, you see the color drain from his face. You look at your father and he has the same look on his face. Katsuki's seems to be more out of fear and your father's more out of shock.

"Y/n what did I say about loud blondes?" He says with a sigh, but you know he's not mad. He may just be trying to freak Katsuki out a little more.

With a giggle you respond, "to stay away from them?" Katsuki looks at you like you're crazy, you can only wonder what's going through his head. You take his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Uh- hi Aizawa-sensei." He says with a shake in his voice. You can tell he's scared and you feel so bad for not telling him. You realize that it was a mistake you shouldn't have hid it from him, you should have just told him. But you don't have time to keep thinking before your father responds.

"Hello Bakugou, I'm assuming you were as left in the dark about this as I was?" Your father sends you a small glare.

"Uh yeah sir I was." He says huffing and shoving the hand that wasn't holding yours in his pocket, as he glares intensely at the floor.

"Msorry- I didn't know how to tell you guys.. I'm sorry." You say meekly, you really hadn't known how to tell them.

"it's okay, m'jus a little shocked." Now it's his turn to give your hand a comforting squeeze. He really isn't mad at you, but he does wish you had told him before. But that's something the two of you can talk about another day.

"I know you make my daughter happy Bakugou, so I'm not mad. And I know you'll be able to protect her. But this will not change our relationship at school, do not expect anything to be easier for you. If anything be prepared for it to be harder, if it's my daughter you'll be protecting." Your father sends a look to your boyfriend that conveys how serious he is about his words.

"Yeah yeah sir, I wouldn't want it any other way." He send a glare straight back at your father, you know this is his way of proving himself to the older man. So for now, you won't get in the way, as long as it doesn't get to out of hand.

"We should probably go eat before dinner gets cold." The two men nod in agreement before you guys make your way to the dining room. You sit next to Katsuki and your father sits on the other side of the table. You give both of them plates before making your own.

"I hope you enjoy it." You say with a weak smile. You watch as the both of them start eating and Katsuki gives you one of those looks that just shows you how much he is in love with you.

"Shit babe, this is so fuckin good." He says before taking anything bite. And this makes you giggle and return him the smile. Your father watches with an amused smirk and he realizes that calming the loud blondes may run in the family.

The rest of dinner goes well, you guys all talk and you father seems to accept of Katsuki. And that makes you happier than anything, seeing the two most important people in your life get along.

A/n: RAAAAH okay so I fear it's late and I'm a little eepy so I kinda rushed the end, so I might come back and change it or I'll js leave it I don't know! But this is the first time in a rlly long time I've written so it honestly probably sucks but I fear it's okay chat. I hope you at least someone enjoyed it!

Pt. 2, pt. 3

[luvdsc]

barbie girl.

if life is plastic (and therefore, nonbiodegradable), then it’s so not fantastic. honestly, who came up with that? regina george really should’ve googled about the new plastics economy.

or alternatively, pretty girls rule the world, and you find out that he’s (not) all that.

pairing :: na jaemin x reader genre :: comedy, fluff, angst ⋮ makeover + college au word count :: 24,618 words warnings :: body issues, body image, weight mentions, insecurities, beauty is a social construct, [spoiler] did something bad, people being literal scum, so much gaslighting that you can start a wildfire and j*ke gyll*nh*al should take notes, “if a man talks shit then i owe him nothing” playlist :: pretty boys (romi) ⋆ you can’t sit with us (sunmi) ⋆ i just wanna know (katherine li) ⋆ lie to girls (sabrina carpenter) ⋆ look what you made me do (taylor swift) ⋆ leftover feelings (regina song) ⋆ number one girl (rosé) + extended playlist here. author’s note :: she’s all that is one of my most favorite rom coms ever, but i’ve always been ///: at the whole makeover idea and decided to write my own version !! the idols mentioned in this fic are just characters, and how i portray them in this fic do not reflect how i actually view them or their irl personas. as always, much love to miss lana and miss moon for being my biggest cheerleaders ᥫ᭡ ↳ part of the 𝔯𝔢𝔭𝔲𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 collaboration series.

i. hiya, barbie! hi, ken!

Na Jaemin does not know that you exist.

Good looking, charismatic, and popular — it’s his world, and you’re just living in it. Or something like that. You’re decently smart, somewhat funny, and not pretty enough to stand out, but not exactly hideous according to societal standards (source: those beauty quizzes in Seventeen magazine that you used to be obsessed with when you were thirteen and in desperate need of flirting tips). If he was the main lead, you’d probably be Extra #6, maybe Extra #2 on a good day.

By your calculations, the two of you should never cross paths, like two parallel lines. Wait, scratch that, you would probably never be aligned with anything that has to do with this guy. You saw him standing outside of the door of your shared accounting classroom during your fall semester, and he spent twenty five minutes editing his picture for Instagram and ended up late for the lecture. And he probably already spent even more time selecting the final photo to edit before you arrived to class and noticed him. Absolute idiot. Absolute handsome idiot, but idiot nonetheless. A grade A himbo with a grade C in financial accounting. 

Okay, so scrap the parallel lines theory, maybe skew lines are a better way of explaining it. Yeah, that seems about right, the two of you are from completely different dimensions, never meant to interact or run parallel with each other. And once again, by this logic, your paths should never cross.

“Y/N!”

You stand corrected.

Na Jaemin does know that you exist.

You suddenly remember that there was that one small group presentation in that very same aforementioned accounting class, and you were assigned to the same group as Jaemin. Armed with this rediscovered memory, you are going to revise your earlier response and say that the correct descriptor for your relationship is perpendicular lines. That sounds right. Final answer. You’re locking it in.

Your paths should have only intersected once, the two of you should be going in different directions, and even though you’re in another class with him again for spring semester this year (since all freshmen with a business major has to take the same Gen. Ed. classes), not once have the two of you had a proper conversation with each other (He asked you to pass a note one time, but that barely counts). Jaemin should have forgotten you by now, and you should be continuing on with your side character life that you’re very much content with.

So then why on earth is he shouting your name like you’re old friends and causing what feels like every person within a one mile radius to stare at you?

He’s unknowingly giving you your main character moment, and you very quickly realize that you do not feel like the Y/N in any one of those Gojo fanfics you read religiously at three in the morning when you should really be studying or sleeping.

Instead, you feel like a bug watching its impending doom as a Doc Marten boot starts to descend at an alarming speed and you can’t even try to scuttle out of the way to avoid it. Frozen in your spot, you can only watch as your university’s it boy skids to a stop in front of you after running across the grass and flashing you his million dollar smile. “Hey, Y/N, right? We have ECON 13 together.”

Starstruck, your mind to mouth filter is completely shot, and all you manage to let out is a very uncool “Uh huh.”

He laughs a little breathlessly, and you feel like all the oxygen has been knocked out of your lungs, too. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Jaemin tilts his head to the side slightly, the sunlight catching his profile perfectly, and your breath hitches in your throat once more.

“I know this is gonna sound really, uh, forward since we barely know each other and all, but—”

You’re barely listening to him, your heart pounding in your chest and the blood rushing to your ears. It’s pretty embarrassing to see how a mere stranger with a pretty face can affect you this much. You really thought you had a much stronger willpower than this, but it’s so goddamn unfair how this boy standing in front of you has the most perfectly sculpted face you’ve ever seen. Plus, his eyelashes? Why the hell do boys always get the prettiest, thickest, and darkest lashes? 

Meanwhile, you’re out here struggling to force your perpetually straight, stubby lashes into a curl that ends up lasting only a couple hours, even when you use waterproof mascara. You still end up with flat lashes and you have to feverishly scrub your eyes to remove the blasted makeup and lose a few cherished lashes in the process.

“—with me?” Jaemin finishes, and you belatedly realize that you did not catch a single word that he said, too caught up in your inner monologue and too busy ogling. However, your heart flutters in your chest when you catch the last part of his question. Not to be too presumptuous, but it sounds like he’s asking you out. Why else would anyone randomly stop you like this and talk to you for this long? You’re positively giddy at this revelation. This is your moment, the one you’ve been waiting for your whole life, like Rapunzel waiting in her tower for the one to come and save her from her horribly mundane, repetitive life.

“Oh! Um… yes?” It’s a 50/50 chance between yes or no, and you hope that’s the correct answer he’s looking for. 

Jaemin’s face immediately brightens, and he turns his smile up another kilowatt, nearly blinding you. You grin back at him, squinting a little. This must be how Icarus felt when he flew towards the sun. 

“Oh shit, really? You’re really agreeing to tutor me? Hyuck—you know, our class’s peer TA—said I was a hopeless cause, and I would need way more one on one lessons outside of his hours and all that if I wanted to pass. And yeah, I know I could probably bitch at him until he caves since we’re kind of friends, but he would also hold this over my head, but he said you had the highest score on last week’s practice midterm, so I thought, ‘hey, why not shoot my shot?’” He directs another smile your way, pausing for a quick breath. Your mind is racing a mile a minute, and his smile isn’t helping whatsoever as your heart decides to join in this race as well until it sinks when you finally process his words.

“Wait, Donghyuck said that about me?” you manage to get out, a little dazed, and Jaemin confirms before eagerly continuing on with his chatter, but all you can do is stupidly nod as the word “TUTOR” spins around and around in your mind in bold, italicized, underlined mocking red letters in Times New Roman font, size 12, double spaced, MLA format, the whole shebang.

Of course, he only wants a tutor. What made you think that a boy like him would look twice at a girl like you? The only other time a guy has ever expressed interest in you is to share homework answers for Calculus back in 10th grade (For the record, all of his answers were completely wrong, but Sungchan was a cute distraction. Actually, the two of you became very good friends once you very quickly got over the fact that you were firmly placed in the friendzone. He’s even dating one of your best friends now).

“Anyways, can I have your number? I can text you to match our schedules and figure out the times to meet up for the next couple of weeks before our next midterm.” You remain wide eyed, gazing at him like a deer caught in the headlights and still attempting to fully understand everything that has just happened.

Jaemin looks at you expectantly, his hand outstretched towards you with his phone tucked between his fingers. The device dangles there for an additional ten seconds that probably isn’t socially acceptable. Grab the phone, you scream at yourself silently, but your body doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. You blink slowly once. Then twice.

“Or, I can just… uh, type in your number if you tell me,” Jaemin says awkwardly, his smile wilting slightly as he shifts from one foot to the other under your unwavering gaze and slowly retracting his hand. Finally, you come to your senses as you quickly spring into action and snatch the phone from him, tapping in your digits and adding in your name and shared class before saving your contact.

“Here,” you mutter, returning his phone, and he gives you a relieved grin. You clutch onto the strap of your backpack a little tighter, cursing the way your heart skips a beat. “I should be free most weekday afternoons since I prefer to take all morning classes, but let me know when you’re free and we can work something out.”

“Awesome! Thank you so much, Y/N, you’re a life saver.” Jaemin beams at you, touching your shoulder briefly and you feel that very same place on your body erupt in flames as your face heats up in a similar manner. “I’ll text you tonight, yeah?”

You can only numbly nod, subconsciously raising your hand and waving at him, and Jaemin chuckles, flashing his pearly whites at you again, before he saunters off and blends into a group of other equally pretty and popular students, a few of whom look over at you with vague interest before turning their attention back to the boy who just joined them.

What have you gotten yourself into?

ii. you want to go for a ride?

“I’m getting sus vibes from him.”

Flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder, Lana takes a long sip of her wintermelon milk tea with honey pearls, a spitting image of that one infamous Starbucks meme of your school’s alumni, Hyungwon (His picture can still be found floating through discord chats, and you’re ninety percent sure your school used it in one of their recruitment brochures at one point). She’s sprawled out on the beanbag in the corner of your shared apartment’s living room, her HP laptop covered in sailor moon stickers balanced across her thighs (She swears HP is the best laptop brand, but you don’t trust electronics advice from anyone who can’t even use a toaster properly).

“Have you even spoken to Jaemin? How exactly are you getting sus vibes from him?” Moon jumps in, glancing over the top of her MacBook as she takes a quick break from her latest coding project regarding polynomials, matrices, and a bunch of other math terminology you rather not think about. You left all that arithmetic jargon back in high school after you got a 5 on both AP calculus exams and got to skip all required math classes for your accounting major (Sungchan wasn’t so lucky).

“He’s a fratboy finance major.” Lana rolls her eyes.

“Point taken, but weren’t you into that senior, Jaehyun? He’s one of them. You called him your soulmate,” you interject, and she splutters for a few seconds before putting her hand up in protest.

“Listen, I was going through a perpetual mental breakdown at the beginning of this semester. It doesn’t count. You try being a pharmacy major. Thank god I switched out to English. My mental state was compromised, and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“What do you mean not thinking straight? Lana, you literally chose the straightest, most heterosexual man out there.” Moon jibes, closing her laptop now with an air of conceding defeat. You have to give her props for trying to work on some assignments, but you already knew no one was going to get any work done tonight. It’s a Thursday night anyway, which means you have until Tuesday to get all the homework assigned today done. You can always work on them on Monday night and inevitably curse yourself for not getting it done earlier when you end up pulling an all nighter and show up to your 8 a.m. international marketing tactics class with raccoon eyes. 

“This is bullying, and we are on an anti-bullying campus,” Lana complains, giving the two of you the stink eye before leaning over and lightly shoving the snoozing boy sprawled across the floor next to her. “Wake up, Yang. Moon and Y/N gang up on me when you’re not awake to absorb all our gentle bullying.”

The boy in question sits upright, bleary eyes and the drying ink from his notes now decorating his cheek, a lasting reminder of the makeshift pillow for his impromptu nap. Yawning, he stretches his arms, rubbing his face and making an even bigger mess of smears. “What’d I miss?”

“We were just discussing Lana‘s tragic crush on Jaehyun last year,” you say, and she makes a strangled noise next to you. “Were you up late sewing again?”

“Yes,” Yangyang grumbles, “You would think Kaneki would be so easy to cosplay since he wears all black, but the mask is taking forever to make.”

“Can’t one of your sugar daddies buy one for you?”

“What sugar daddies? If I had one, I wouldn’t be stuck in here trying to balance equations,” he moans, crumpling up another sheet filled up with scribbles and his latest attempts at answering the second to last problem for organic chemistry.

“My bad, I thought you would have some from your cosplay account.” Moon shrugs, rummaging through her large soccer mom purse for a snack and triumphantly pulling out a box of green tea Hello Pandas. “You have like 100k followers on there.”

“My audience demographic is weebs.” Yangyang deadpans. “How many weebs do you know who are rich enough to send five thousand dollars every week to a struggling college student?”

“Wait, we’re going off topic right now. What do you know about Jaemin, Yang?” Lana cuts in, and Moon nods in agreement (You try not to look too interested, but fail miserably, no doubt).

“Jaemin Na? I’ve never talked to him personally, but there’s always stories about him and his friends. Jeno is on the baseball team and notorious for his body count. He’s the one that takes up like 30% of our university’s anonymous confessions Twitter account. This is his insta, but he’s not really active on social media.” Yangyang passes his phone around for the three of you to see Jeno’s Instagram. There’s a whopping total of fourteen posts, and every picture of him with someone of the opposite sex features a different girl. Instant red flag.

“Lia is pretty big on Tik Tok,” Yangyang continues, grabbing his phone to pull up her account to show all of you. “She’s pretty and is actually really good at singing, but she's basically trying to be the next Addison Rae. Jimin models, and she’s going by Karina nowadays. I heard she tried to trademark that name or something. She posts dancing Tik Toks. She and Yeonjun collab a lot. He walks for New York fashion week and has a Tik Tok for dancing, too. I’m like 70% sure they’re only dating to boost their views. Somi is the most popular one out of them. She’s the blonde one. She’s pretty talented and I heard she signed onto the same company as the Blackpink House. She’s even done a makeup video with Vogue recently.”

“And Jaemin has a pretty large social following. He takes decent pictures, and that’s what he insists his insta is for, but let’s be real, the majority of his followers are there for his face. You should see his TikTok. He literally just recorded himself looking at the camera and put some generic caption, and he racked up like seven hundred thousand likes,” Yangyang grumbles, pulling up his account to show you all the video in question. “Like literally, what the hell is this? I have to put in so many hours making my outfits and editing my videos and all he does is smile and paste ‘Don’t have a valentine again… hope this will change soon’ on top, and the preteens are foaming at the mouth.”

“Wow, jumpscare warning next time you show me him please.” Lana wrinkles her nose at the repeating offensive clip. Yangyang merely shoves his phone even closer to her in response, and she flips him off.

“Hey, you’re the one who asked about him. Why are you suddenly interested in him? Is this your Jaehyun 2.0 phase starting up?” Yangyang grins, and Lana flicks his forehead in retaliation.

“Shut up, when are you guys gonna let that die? Besides, it’s Y/N who’s interested, not me,” Lana retorts, and immediately, the spotlight is back on you. You cough awkwardly, feeling a bit uncomfortable with all the attention.

“Uh, he just asked if I would tutor him…”

“And you said yes?” Yangyang sounds scandalized and utterly betrayed. “Why would you willingly fraternize with the enemy like that?”

“What enemy? I didn’t even know he knew I existed until this very recent development occurred.” 

“Influencers like him are instant enemies to me, and as my friend, he’s your enemy by association. I can't believe you’re helping the competition,” Yangyang sniffs.

You don’t have the guts to tell them all that the only reason you accepted his tutor proposal is because you got ahead of yourself and despite all the odds and signs, thought Jaemin was asking you out. You know your friends won’t make fun of you (too badly), but that is completely humiliating, and you will be taking that to the grave.

“It’s just tutoring, don’t be so dramatic,” you scoff, making a face at him. “He texted me yesterday, and we’re meeting up at the library later today, and I reserved a private study room for two hours.”

“Oooh, so it’s a study date?” Moon teases, and your cheeks betray you with the amount of heat now emanating off of them.

“Shut up, it’s literally just tutoring. We’re going over supply and demand curves.” 

“No, back up, he texted you yesterday and you didn’t tell us about him until today?” Lana interjects, holding up her hand and putting on a faux offended expression. “What kind of friend are you? We’re supposed to tell each other every nitty gritty detail about our love lives! Like Sungchan texts Moon good morning texts at eight in the morning, and by 8:30 a.m., we’re already getting a play by play about it in the group chat!”

Moon turns pink and opens her mouth before deciding against it and quietly shuts it. Yangyang silently laughs next to Lana, his shoulders shaking (You decide that you shouldn’t tell them Jaemin actually asked you in person to tutor him three days ago or else, Lana will chew you out even more).

You protest, flailing your arms around slightly in exasperation. “There’s literally zero development in my love life! I have nothing going on in it, and I can guarantee you that he does not see me in that light whatsoever.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.” Lana looks wholly unconvinced, and your two friends look back and forth between the two of you like two kids watching their divorced parents fight. “So… Do you need help picking out an outfit for tomorrow?”

“… Yeah.”

iii. sure, ken. jump in!

“Hey, Y/N!” 

Jaemin loudly whispers a little breathlessly as he drops his bag onto the table and slumps into the chair next to yours, his chest heaving slightly. Startled, you jerk up in your chair, heart skipping a beat when you realize he’s here. You were supposed to be in a private study room, but there was a group of boys already in there, and as the most non-confrontational person to walk this earth, you decided to cut your losses and take a table nearby.

“Did you wait long? I got caught up outside the library when Somi stopped me and completely forgot,” he says apologetically, pulling out his textbooks, and you shake your head, giving him a shy smile.

“No, it’s alright. I was already here anyway, and I got some extra studying done.” You gesture towards the papers and notebooks strewn across the table’s surface, covered in your notes from today’s classes. “Should we start with today’s lesson? How much did you understand in class today?”

“Maybe the first five minutes of it only.”

You pause, glancing over at him. “Professor Hwang was ten minutes late to class.”

“Exactly.” Jaemin nods, and you stifle a laugh. He grins at you. “I don’t think you realize how much of a hopeless cause I am when you agreed to tutor me.”

“We can start from the beginning then. You have four weeks until the midterm, and we can go through every lesson we’ve had so far. I’ll make up a study schedule if you give me yours. And if you continue to go to Donghyuck’s tutoring hours too, you should hopefully be able to catch up and do well on the midterm.”

Jaemin wordlessly pulls up his class schedule on his phone, and you plug them into a Google calendar that you quickly share to his email. “So, I color coded your classes in green, and my classes are in pink. Do you have any other things that we need to work around?”

He peers over at your screen, scanning the contents. “I have my weekly frat meetings on Tuesday nights and mandatory events on other nights.”

“Alright, you can put them in and we’ll figure out meeting times,” you say, pushing your laptop towards him and he starts to add in his extracurricular activities.

 “Party from 8 pm to 1 am?” you read skeptically, your eyes scanning over the event he tacked in under this week’s Friday.

“Yeah, can’t miss it,” Jaemin says, typing in more events and making sure to color code them in blue. “Don’t you have things to do on Friday night too?”

“Uh, maybe grab a poke bowl from the dining hall to go and watch another Banana Fish episode,” you say awkwardly, fiddling with the small Gojo keychain you have attached to your pouch.

Jaemin stops, looking over at you. “You watch Banana Fish?”

Your cheeks grow warm. “… Yeah, why?” 

His eyes light up and he asks eagerly, “Did you see the latest episode? When Golzine leaves Arthur in charge?”

The two of you continue discussing the plot as he finishes up adding in his schedule for the next four weeks, finally nudging the laptop back towards you. “Do you need to add in your stuff too?”

“Mm no, it’s fine. I already put in my classes, and I’m not in any clubs or sororities,” you answer, making sure to input Donghyuck’s tutoring hours as well before scanning over the calendar and pinpointing areas where he’s free for at least one to two hours. “Okay, should we start with meeting three times a week?”

“Huh, you memorized Hyuck’s hours?” Jaemin notes, giving you a sly smile as he moves closer to look at the schedule.

“Huh? No, don’t you always know your professors’ and TAs’ office hours?” you ask, looking up and are immediately startled after underestimating the proximity between you and the beautiful boy next to you. 

“No, I’m not a nerd,” he snorts lightly, and you laugh awkwardly, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction and put a little more distance between the two of you before you go into cardiac arrest, “Right, yeah, well, anyway—”

“You were also interested when I said Hyuck mentioned you before,” Jaemin says suddenly, sitting up straight before a wide grin spreads across his face as he loudly exclaims, “You totally have a crush on him!”

“Quiet down!” You immediately shush him, the tips of your ears burning as everyone within a 40 feet radius in the library is now staring at the two of you. You’ve never received this much attention before, and you very quickly realize that you absolutely hate it. You loudly whisper-protest, stumbling over your words in a panic, “I—I don’t have a crush on him!”

“Oh, come on, your face is getting hot and you’re stuttering. You do too like him,” Jaemin laughs softly, propping his elbow onto the table and resting his chin on the palm of his hand as he gives you a once over. “I could totally make you into his type.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask hotly, cheeks burning even more when you feel his eyes graze over your figure.

“Oh, it’ll be so much fun. We can go to the mall and pick out some cute clothes for you, and then swing by the hair shop. You’re definitely using the wrong conditioner and shampoo,” Jaemin continues, eying your hair for a quick second.

“Wait, wait, we’re just here for tutoring, what are you even talking about?” You ask, bewildered before grasping a stray strand of your hair between your fingers. “And what do you mean I’m using the wrong shampoo?”

“And conditioner,” Jaemin pipes up, picking up his phone to search up some better brands he would recommend. “What have you been using? 2 in 1 Head and Shoulders?”

“No,” you huff softly, your ears growing even warmer at the accusation. “I just use whatever my mom buys in bulk at Costco.”

“Okay, well, you should use this instead,” Jaemin says, showing his phone screen to you, and your eyes widen slightly when you note the price tag.

“I cannot be forking over nearly seventy dollars on shampoo and conditioner,” you say incredulously, pushing his phone back towards him and waving your hand dismissively. “And there’s no way I’m going to spend even more money on new clothes.”

“Okay, fine, I think I have some unopened bottles from sponsored deals that I can give to you,” Jaemin sighs, opening up his text messages to find his friends’ group chat. “Or my friends would have some good ones, too. Maybe we can get you some of their free clothes from sponsorships, too.”

“You guys just get free clothes?” 

“Yeah,” he shrugs, glancing over at you. “On second thought, Karina and Lia aren’t the same size as you, so you won’t fit them. We can just order some basic pieces online or something for starters.”

“We—We aren’t doing this,” you loudly whisper back to him, hyper aware of the other students around you who keep glancing over at Jaemin. “Let’s just focus on making this schedule and helping you pass your midterm.”

“Oh, please, doll, it’d be fun. Just think of it as a payment for your tutoring,” Jaemin persuades you, scooting closer to you and pressing his thigh against yours lightly. Your breath hitches in your throat at the pet name and his touch. You’ve never been this close to any boy before, let alone one as attractive as Jaemin.

“You’ll look so pretty, I know the perfect outfits to make for you. And I can teach you how to get Hyuck’s attention, too,” he continues, nudging you lightly, and you’re still dazed, unable to get over the fact that he’s impossibly close to you, close enough for you to count the pretty lashes framing his even prettier eyes. You wonder what it’s like to be that beautiful, what it’s like to have people falling at your feet, what it’s like to mesmerize everyone the second you walk into a room.

Honestly, if Jaemin asked you to jump, your only response would be “how high.”

“If I agree to this, will you finally pay attention?” you sigh, and Jaemin instantly brightens up, nodding and giving you another one of those smiles that makes your stomach flip flop. Your Achilles’ heel is one very persistent boy who goes by the name of Na Jaemin, and he has hit you with a direct bullseye.

“Yes, I’ll be a model student, doll.”

You hesitate for a split second before relenting. “Okay, fine, deal.”

iv. i’m a barbie girl in the barbie world.

Jaemin is easy on the eyes, but currently proving to be very difficult for your nerves during your fourth tutoring session. Your wardrobe has increased in style and size by now, and you’re dressed in a pretty lilac top that wraps around you and accentuates your curves and hides what needs to be hidden perfectly. Your jeans may dig a little more than you’d like into your stomach, but it’s your fault that you chose to wear your photo jeans instead of your sitting jeans. Also, your hair has never looked better, all thanks to the boy seated next to you.

“No, when there is a low supply, there’s a high demand. They directly affect each other,” you try to re-explain to the boy next to you, drawing out the line graph once again. He stares down at the familiar graph before looking at the written practice problem in front of him. Professors must have an insane amount of patience, you silently think to yourself. 

You sigh. “Let’s put it this way. You and Jeno want to buy the same shirt, but there’s only one left in the right size. So that’s two people who are demanding the one shirt. And the store only has one shirt in its supply. So how would you describe this situation?”

“Oh.” The look of realization flashes across Jaemin’s face as your example easily snaps the puzzle pieces into place for him. “There’s a high demand and low supply. Too many people want the shirt, but there’s not enough shirts.”

“Yes, you got it!” You cheer quietly, mindful of your location at one of the library’s tables. “Now try reading through the practice problems and draw the appropriate supply and demand graphs for each one.”

 “And when I’m done with this, we can take a break, and I’ll teach you how to do makeup. My friends will help,” Jaemin says idly as he reads through the first problem again. 

Your stomach lurches slightly at that, and you hesitate. “Your friends?”

“Yeah, you know, Jeno, Karina, Lia, and Yeonjun. Somi, too, but she’s been busy. I can teach you basic skincare and makeup, but the girls will have to help you with the rest,” he says casually, scrawling down his first answer and the corresponding graph.

You swallow hard, your voice croaking slightly before you hastily clear it. “Are you sure? Do you think they’ll like me?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, doll. You’re like a puppy, and everyone likes those,” Jaemin mumbles idly, eyebrows furrowing as he rereads the second problem.

“A puppy?” You don’t know whether to be offended or not yet.

Oh, you know, just that you’re cute and all,” Jaemin laughs lightly, starting to write down his next answer, and your heart nearly stops in your chest. You force yourself to breathe regularly again.

“Oh, I see,” you start to answer coolly, but stuttering on the last word, internally cursing your tongue at the last stumble. You try to sit calmly and relax for the rest of the tutoring session as Jaemin slowly makes his way through the practice packet, but the knot in your stomach continues to tangle even more, growing ever bigger. Maybe you should just tell Jaemin that lunch didn’t agree with you and cut this meetup short. 

But that means less time spent with Jaemin. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Jaemin is nice, so his friends should be as well, you reason with yourself. There’s no need to be nervous. Even if they’re all incredibly beautiful, hot people with the most unapproachable aura you have ever encountered.

Like honestly, how is someone like Karina even real? Her face could start a modern day equivalent of the Trojan War. She is literally the face blueprint for every main female character you play in your otome games.

Turns out, Karina is even more gorgeous up close. Ridiculously close with the way she’s inches from your face as she swipes on some blush on the apples of your cheeks. You never thought you’d see the resident it girl here for you, standing in the middle of your dorm room, let alone have an actual conversation with her that extended beyond a polite hello when she stops by for Giselle. It’s already been 45 minutes, and your nerves still haven’t calmed down.

“You just need to apply a little bit here and here on both your cheeks,” she instructs you, pointing towards your cheekbones and carefully applying the rosy powder to the same areas. She pauses in the application momentarily so that you can type out a few notes into your phone covering her directions. “You can go heavier if you want the cute sunburn, Sabrina Carpenter look, but if you do too much, you’ll end up looking like my ex.”

“What?” You’re startled, glancing over at her and nearly getting blinded once again by her lethal face card. She laughs lightly, giving you a slight smile. “A clown.” 

“Oh, got it,” you chuckle, albeit nervously, shooting her a quick smile. “I’ll make sure to not do that.”

“Relax, it’s easy. Just a bit of makeup here and there, and you’ll be fine. All I do is some mascara, falsies, and a good lippie when I’m lazy, and I’m out the door in ten minutes,” Lia jumps in, holding several different tubes of lip tints.

“Are you sure? That’s really it?” You ask hesitantly, glancing over the various makeup products strewn over your desk. It looks a lot more complicated than what she had just described.

“Well, maybe you might need a bit more, like concealer and foundation. And some bronzer and heavy contouring. But just stick to the skincare routine and it’ll help lessen it,” Karina sighs, dabbing some highlighter to the tip of your nose before seeing the uncertain look in your eyes, adding hastily, “But it’s so worth it, trust. You’ll look so pretty, and it comes with so many perks. Girl math is knowing you can go out with no money and just your face card.”

“Hey, you’re friends with Yangyang?” Lia pipes up, noticing the photo strip you have pinned on your corkboard, nestled between the various Mystic Messenger Seven fanart and Zorro art prints.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I am. You know him?” You answer, and she nods before leaning in and evenly applying a thin layer of periwinkle tint on your lips. ��Yeah, we’re in the same German class. Do you know if he’s seeing anyone?”

Well, you definitely can’t tell her about the raging heart on he has for his best friend, but it’s not like he really is seeing anyone either. You do vaguely remember Yangyang saying Lia was pretty and talented during his quick 5 minute minute class to Jaemin and his friends, so it’s not like he hates her either.

“No, he’s not,” you answer, hoping you made the right choice, and Lia’s face visibly brightens. “Oh, really? That’s great.”

“Okay, we’re done.” Karina announces, stepping back and holding up a mirror for you. “Not bad, right?”

“Oh, wow,” you suck in a breath, nearly gasping in surprise as you peer at the glass. You almost don’t recognize yourself. The contouring lifts up your face, slimming it down, and the blush gives you a pretty pink hue that makes you look sun kissed. Your lower lashes have nearly doubled in length with the mascara, giving you a pretty babydoll look. Karina had perfectly applied a set of falsies for you, framing your eyes delicately, and the shimmery eyeshadow and soft winged eyeliner accentuates your eyes even more. Your lips are the prettiest shade of pink, tinted and glossy.

You can’t believe it is your own reflection staring back at you.

“Now put this outfit on,” Lia says with a knowing smile, placing a shopping bag in your lap. “Jaemin picked it out.”

“Oh, really? Alright,” you manage to mumble out, dazed and still admiring yourself in the hand mirror. Karina laughs softly, nudging Lia before moving towards your door. “We have to get to a sorority meeting now, but I hope you like it, doll. And make sure to practice.”

“I love it,” you say breathlessly, grazing your fingertips against the cool glass, still in disbelief. “And I definitely will practice.”

“Mm, good, text us if you need any help! And send progress pics! We want to see how it’s going,” Lia answers, waving over her shoulder before the two of them exit your dorm. Sitting there alone, you stare at your reflection for a little longer, admiring yourself. You feel so pretty. 

You finally remember the paper bag on your lap, and you immediately dig into it, pulling out a flowy floral sundress. It’s beautiful, and you quickly tug off your jeans and tshirt before going to your drawers to dig around for the appropriate bra for the dress. You manage to find it, snapping on the bra around yourself from the front before twisting it until the clasp is against your back. You hastily push your arms through the straps, tugging on either side until it’s on perfectly. You suck in a quick breath, internally preparing yourself for the battle with the next piece of clothing, a.k.a. your worst enemy: spandex. You’ve familiarized yourself with the awkward jig you have to do around your dorm until you’ve wriggled into the tight elastic enough so that it sits in the correct spot and sucks in all the right places.

At last, you won the war, but you feel sweaty now, flopping back onto your bed for a quick break. You flap your hands in front of your face, thanking whoever decided to invent setting spray. You grab your deodorant spray and douse yourself in a heavy dose of it before picking up the sundress and slipping it over your head. To your great relief, it slides on perfectly, and you quickly shuffle over to the full length mirror hanging on the back of your door. You straighten out the dress and quickly pat down any strand of hair knocked askew from your latest struggles before giving a smile to the mirror.

Dare you say it? You look pretty.

You’ve never looked this pretty before.

You happily take out the dainty gold heart necklace you had carefully tucked into your top desk drawer, struggling for a few seconds before you manage to clasp it around your neck. You quickly pull the pendant towards the front before slipping on the strappy sandals you left next to your desk. You grab the cute purse you bought last week, now packed with the perfect essentials, and give yourself one last once over.

You have nowhere to go, but you decide to take a walk to the dining hall. After all, you’re dressed up so nicely, makeup done so perfectly, you can’t waste it on another night stuffing your face with hot Cheetos and rewatching the first season of Haikyuu!!. Opening your door, you step out and nearly run into someone. 

“Oh, finally, you’re done, doll. I thought you died in there or some…”

His eyes widening in utter shock, his next word dies on the tip of his tongue when Jaemin sees you standing in front of him. His mouth falls open slightly before he quickly closes it to swallow harshly, his throat running dry. He’s never seen you like this before, never imagined that you’d be this pretty. He inhales sharply, stiffening slightly as his eyes rake over your figure, seeing how the dress perfectly accentuates your figure, and settles on your face.

“Jaemin? What are you doing here?” Your eyes widen slightly before your cheeks grow warm when you notice his stunned reaction.

“Um,” he croaks out, voice cracking before he quickly swallows again, silently cursing when puberty decides to make a belated appearance. “Lia texted me that you were done, so I wanted to see how it went. You look… wow.”

Your cheeks heat up even further, and you laugh a little nervously, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “R-really? It’s not too much?”

“No!” He immediately blurts out before his cheeks flush carmine. “I—I mean, you look really good. You should dress like this more often.”

You can’t stop the smile spreading across your face, and Jaemin’s heart flip flops in his chest. “Really? Thank you, I will then.”

“Of course, really. I picked the dress myself after all,” He tries to joke before hastily clearing his throat. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Oh, no, I don’t. I was just going to go to the dining hall and grab some food,” you answer awkwardly, shifting your purse over your shoulder slightly and tightening your fingers around its strap.

“Let me take you out for dinner.” Jaemin blurts out, a little high pitched, mentally facepalming at how he sounds. “I mean, we can go over some of the harder problems in that packet since I probably need more studying anyway, and I’ll teach you a couple more dating tricks.”

“Sure, okay, that sounds good.” You give him a wider beam, and Jaemin feels his heart beat a little faster. Maybe you don’t need that much teaching from him after all. Seems like you’re a quick learner.

v. life is plastic, it’s fantastic!

“The only thing you’re fucking is stupid.”

“Shut the hell up, Yeonjun. At least I’m not sticking my dick in crazy.”

You watch the light argument going on between Jeno and Yeonjun in amusement. You and Jaemin had just finished your ninth tutoring session two hours ago, and you think he’s getting on track to actually scoring a decent grade for the next midterm. You were initially going to head towards Lana and Moon’s dorm for your weekly anime show marathon, but Jaemin insisted that you stop by the Alpha Sigma Psi house for a small party. Giselle and Karina are both part of that house, so you figured it couldn’t hurt to make a quick appearance. Good thing you spent some time touching up your makeup before today’s tutoring session.

“Hey, doll! Join the photo,” Jaemin calls out to you, gesturing you towards the area he and the rest of his friends are standing. You see another really pretty girl—Minjeong, was it?—standing on the side, holding up a phone and preparing to take the picture.

“Oh, no, it’s okay, I can just take the photo instead,” you laugh awkwardly, extending your hand out towards Minjeong, but Jeno gently nudges you forward, “No way, you never take pics with us. Just one, come on, Y/N.”

“Yeah, join us!” Jaemin says brightly, tugging you towards him and you stumble slightly, falling forward into his chest. You quickly catch yourself, hands suddenly pressed against his chest, and the blood rushes to your face.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you start to babble, trying to push yourself away before Jaemin quickly wraps his arm around your waist. “Nope, you’re staying here, it’s just a few pics, please, doll?”

“I—I mean, I don’t really—”

You start to say before Minjeong’s voice cuts through the air. “Okay, I’m taking it in five seconds now. So get ready and pose or be ready to live with the consequences on Insta forever.” 

Everyone immediately shuffles around, and you’re squeezed even tighter against Jaemin, and you just know that he can feel your heart pounding rapidly against his chest.

“Smile, doll,” Jaemin laughs gently, squeezing your hip lightly and you inhale sharply at that, your heart rate spiking and increasing exponentially. You muster up a few shaky smiles as the flash starts to go off.

After a few more pictures, you manage to untangle yourself from the group and hurriedly go towards Minjeong. “I can take the pictures, you should join in.”

She immediately brightens up at that, giving you a kilowatt smile as she hands you the phone and slips into your original position in between Jaemin and Karina. “Oh, thanks, Y/N.”

You wait a few moments for everyone to get readjusted before you begin to snap some photos, having already mastered this from the previous hang outs you’ve joined and knowing how to take the best angles for everyone, including all the 0.5 zoom out ones. After taking some additional group and solo photos for the girls, you’re finally free of your duties. Your eyes widen when you check the time on your phone, and you hurriedly make your way over to Jaemin.

“Hey, I need to get going now. I have to get to Lana and Moon’s dorm, so I’ll see you later,” you say quickly, already beginning to brush past him as the realization sets in that it’s been over an hour when you told your friends that you would only be fifteen minutes late.

“Wait, what? Hey, hold on, doll.” Jaemin reaches out to you, but you slip past him, calling over your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m late!”

He strides over, soon matching your pace as you speed walk back to the freshman dormitories. “Can’t you slow down a little bit? It’s not like you all haven’t seen these episodes before, plus we watched a few of them together after our last tutoring session.”

“Yeah, but I’m over an hour late,” you stress, slightly frazzled now as you hurriedly type out an apology to send to the group chat.

“Just breathe, okay? You’ll be fine. They’re your friends. They should understand,” Jaemin reassures you, grabbing your hand and you freeze slightly. He notices your stop and teases lightly, “I said slow down, not stop. What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing,” you stammer out a little too quickly, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. He’s holding your hand. Na Jaemin is hand in hand with you, fingers intertwined. You almost want to pinch yourself to see if you’re dreaming.

“Well, alright then, come on, let me walk you back,” Jaemin laughs before tugging you along. “You can help me pick out which pictures to post on Insta along the way, too, yeah?”

“Oh, sure,” you say breathlessly, your heart rate quickening to an embarrassing speed when he squeezes your hand gently, and you nesrly trip over your own feet.

“Perfect, so what about this one?” He holds up his phone to show you the picture you had taken for the group earlier, and you falter slightly. Why are you feeling a little disappointed with his choice?

Jaemin notices your hesitation and says a little softly, “I know you’re a private person. So I thought you’d prefer if I posted the group photo you took. You always take the best pictures for me, too. You know my good side the best. And it’d be weird if Hyuck saw, too, right? But did you want the other photo? I mean, if you really want it, I can..?”

“No!” You hurriedly say to reassure him, squeezing his hand lightly. “No, you’re right. I don’t want my picture out there. And um, yeah, that definitely wouldn’t be good if Hyuck saw.”

Jaemin gives you a relieved smile. “Yeah, exactly. You’re not upset, right, doll? We still have that fun pic of us and our homemade pizzas from earlier that I posted on my finsta. I didn’t know making pizzas would be that easy.”

“Of course not, don’t worry about it,” you laugh softly, continuing to walk back to the freshman dormitories, and Jaemin swings your joined hands between the two of you freely.

“Mm, I’m getting free cooking and tutoring lessons in exchange for dating tips. Two for the price of one is quite the good deal for me, right?” Jaemin teases lightly, and you let out another laugh.

“You’re right, it is. You better step up your game then.”

“Oh, just you wait, you’ll get dating tips and a boyfriend, so we’ll be even,” Jaemin chuckles softly, squeezing your hand, and the butterflies erupt in your stomach once again, and you muster up the courage to say something a little more teasing.

“Is that a guarantee?”

“Well, you have a demand, and I must supply, right?”

“…I don’t think that’s how it quite goes, Jaemin. Maybe you need a few more tutoring sessions.”

“All I hear is that you want to spend more time with me,” Jaemin laughs, giving you the prettiest smile, and your cheeks warm up even more, heart stuttering in your chest. Speechless, you let him continue on, his chattering filling the air as you listen with quiet content, your hand securely tucked in his for the remainder of the walk back.

vi. you can brush my hair.

Jaemin sits on the edge of his chair across from you at the table in the dorm common area, anxiously tapping his fingers against the flat surface. You are down to the last page of the mock exam packet, carefully going over his work with a red pen. You made minimal marks on the papers, a stark contrast to the very first practice exam he had worked on near the start of your tutoring. At that point in time, he didn’t even get to the end of the exam.

“Amazing.”

You say in awe, scanning through the last problem Jaemin had completed before tallying up his final score and calculating his results. “I can’t believe it. You got an 87.”

“No fucking way,” Jaemin is wide eyed, staring at you in disbelief, and you give him a wide smile, sliding the packet over to him, so that he can look over the exam and notes you’ve written for the problems he missed. 

“Yes fucking way.”

“Holy shit, this is insane,” Jaemin breathes out, carefully reading through each page, and to his utter amazement, he understands every note and explanation you had added next to each incorrect question. He looks up at you, beaming, “I really got a B+?”

“You did,” you confirm, smiling back at him. “And who knows? It might become an A if the exam gets curved.”

“Oh my god, I owe you my life,” Jaemin chuckles, staring down at the graded exam in front of him, still in disbelief. “Seriously, doll, thank you so much.”

“Oh, of course, anytime,” you laugh sheepishly, twisting the rings adorning your fingers around nervously before averting your attention elsewhere, standing up to go towards the adjacent communal kitchen and carrying your filled tote bag with you. “A—Anyway, I brought some things to celebrate a job well done so far.”

“And how did you know I would’ve done well? What if I completely bombed that exam?” Jaemin teases you, standing up and following after you.

“I don’t know, I guess I just believed in you,” you stutter out, cheeks warming up as you set down your tote bag on the counter, unable to look him in the eyes, and he freezes, mulling over your words silently.

You believe in him? Someone who’s a hopeless cause? He honestly didn’t even believe in himself, he thinks to himself, his chest constricting uncomfortably, a foreign feeling making its entrance known to him, constricting around his heart. He inhales sharply, shoving it away with an easy going smile. “Is that so? Well, thanks, Y/N. And what are we doing now?”

“Making pancakes,” you answer, busying yourself with pulling out the ingredients from your tote bag. “You need to be well fed before the midterm. Your brain needs food. And the class is at 8 am, and neither of us are not morning people, so this is as good as it’s gonna get.”

“Pancakes?” Jaemin echoes after you, glancing at the various items strewn across the counter’s surface. “Does it really take this many ingredients? Isn’t it just the box mix and water?”

“That’s the short cut way. We’re making pancakes from scratch,” you laugh softly, taking out a mixing bowl and whisk along with the measuring cups and spoons. 

“But why? It’s so much easier the other way.” Jaemin whines softly, and you chuckle lightly. “Trust me, it’s worth the effort.”

You hand the one cup measuring utensil and bowl to Jaemin and nudge him towards the flour. “Help me measure out two cups of flour.”

“Alright,” he sighs, opening the bag of flour and carefully scooping out the first cup, scraping off any excess before dumping it into the bowl before repeating the process. “What next?”

“Four tablespoons of sugar,” you answer, handing him the sugar and appropriate measuring utensil before working on measuring four teaspoons of baking powder and a quarter of a teaspoon of baking soda. You pour those to the mixing bowl as Jaemin quietly measures the sugar and adds it in as well before waiting for your next instructions. You quickly drop in half of a teaspoon of salt before pushing the bowl towards him. “Now whisk this together gently, please.”

Jaemin busies himself with combining the dry ingredients as you take out half a stick of butter from the fridge (The one labeled with your name, of course. You’re no food thief, unlike someone who’s been stealing other people’s leftover takeout). You microwave it to get four tablespoons of melted butter before making your way to Jaemin’s side.

“Okay, now make a well in the center of it,” you say, and Jaemin clumsily makes an indent in the dry mixture before looking towards you for approval.

“Perfect, now add in two teaspoons of vanilla extract and crack the egg into it there,” you instruct him, and he obediently follows your directions. You measure out one and three quarters cups of milk and add it to the well before also pouring in the melted butter.

“Do I just whisk it together now?” Jaemin asks, picking up the whisk again, and you nod.

“Yes, mix it all together. It’s fine if there’s a few lumps, but it should be smooth overall.” Your eyes trail over his face, and you stifle a small laugh. “You got a little something on your cheek.”

“What?” Jaemin looks up, pausing in his whisking and you can’t help but giggle, staring at the flour dusting his cheek. “There’s flour on your face.”

“Oh, really? Can you wipe it off for me?” Jaemin laughs softly, attempting to brush at it with his shoulder but failing to reach that high.

“Oh, s-sure,” you stammer slightly, your hand quivering slightly as you outstretch your fingers and gingerly brush your fingertips against the apple of his cheek. His sun kissed skin is warm beneath your fingertips, and your breath hitches in your throat before you gently wipe away the remaining residue. You can feel his gaze searing into your face, but you refuse to look him directly in the eyes.

“There, all done,” you murmur, hastily pulling away and taking a step back. Jaemin lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in. He clears his throat, setting down the bowl. “I think this is all done, too.”

“Oh, great, that’s great,” you say, immediately focusing on the bowl before carrying it with you towards the stove, turning it on. “Let’s set this to medium-low heat. And I’ll add some butter to the pan, so the pancake won’t stick.”

Jaemin hands you the leftover butter and pan for you to set onto the stove. You use the spatula to move around a pat of butter, coating the pan nicely. Once the stove is ready and the butter starts to sizzle slightly, you pour a quarter cup of the batter onto the pan, expertly flicking your wrist to rotate the pan and cause the batter to form a perfect circle. You pull out a small container of blueberries, sprinkling some of them on top.

“Woah.” Jaemin watches you, impressed. “Teach me how to do that.”

“This? It’s easy,” you laugh softly, checking on the pancake until its underside is golden and small bubbles start to form on the top. You quickly move the pan, flipping the pancake onto its other side. “You can try making the next one.”

“Yeah? Will you wrap your arms around me and give me the one on one experience?” Jaemin jokes lightheartedly, and you nearly choke. “I mean—I don’t think that's completely necessary.”

“Relax, doll, I’m just kidding,” he laughs softly, nudging you gently, and you let out an awkward laugh. “Oh, totally. Just a joke.”

Once the pancake is golden on both sides, you carefully slide it onto a plate Jaemin pulled out from one of the cabinets. Your heart rate finally returns to its normal state, and you manage to say calmly, “Maple syrup and whipped cream are in the fridge.” 

Jaemin takes out the aforementioned toppings, generously slathering on some butter before pouring the syrup and spraying whipped cream onto the pancake. He cuts out a small piece and quickly spears it onto his fork before taking the bite, nearly moaning in delight at the first taste.

“Holy crap, this is so fucking good.”

“My secret recipe,” you say proudly as you start to pour the batter for a second pancake, evenly spreading it on the pan. “Was it worth the effort?”

“Yes.” Jaemin swallows, almost immediately going for another bite before he gazes at you, giving you a genuine smile, and your heart rate again increases to an alarming speed.

“Definitely worth it.”

vii. undress me everywhere.

You finish the midterm in forty five minutes, being the first one to turn in your completed exam. This  means you finished twenty minutes before the class ends and consequently, either failed it spectucularly or knocked it out of the park. You really hope it’s the latter.

Despite being rather preoccupied with other matters a.k.a. your suddenly thriving social life, you managed to cram in some studying here and there because your mother would absolutely kill you if you lost your provost scholarship. Gifted kid burnout? Who’s that? You never heard of her before (Just kidding, you’ve had plenty of breakdowns and cry fests over calculating bond values and stock prices).

Now outside of the classroom in one of the open study alcoves, you drop your Longchamp bag on the empty chair next to you before tugging at the back of your jean skirt before carefully sitting down. You make sure to readjust your bra straps, tucking them under the ruched fabric of your white shirt. Tapping your fingers against the scratched surface of the table, you briefly admire the shimmery gold ombré manicure adorning your nails that Jaemin had chosen last week. You pull out a compact from the inner side pocket of your purse, carefully checking your makeup to ensure it is still in pristine condition before quickly swiping in another layer of your Buxom plumping lip gloss in the best shade: fir royale.

The flurry of text messages pinging across your screen quickly catches your attention, and you tuck your mirror and tube of lip gloss away before scrolling through them, letting out a quiet scoff at Karina’s latest melodramatic outburst in the clout chasers group chat:

[ 11:46 a.m. ] karebear ✨: guys, gals, and yuckjun

[ 11:46 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: what tf ??? why are you calling me out

[ 11:46 a.m. ] karebear ✨: shut up or else I won’t make out with you anymore

[ 11:46 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: 🤐

[ 11:46 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: are you that touch starved bro

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: anyway as i was saying

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: this skank in my marketing class has been copying my outfits and posting them on her insta and she has like 10k followers now

[ 11:47 a.m. ] princess lia 👑: time to tear a bitch apart

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: like look at this shit

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: sent {10 images.jpeg}

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: my followers are gonna rip her apart

[ 11:47 a.m. ] karebear ✨: she’s downgrading my brand

[ 11:47 a.m. ] princess lia 👑: dw girl i’ll do a response video so my followers will see too

[ 11:48 a.m. ] princess lia 👑: she can’t get away with this

[ 11:48 a.m. ] karebear ✨: loved a message

[ 11:48 a.m. ] somi amor 💋: idk… they’re similar styles but that’s what popular rn

[ 11:48 a.m. ] karebear ✨: it’s gonna be song jia 2.0 watergate

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: just say you’re broke and go

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: if she’s gonna plagiarize me, she better do it right like bffr walmart version 

[ 11:49 a.m. ] somi amor 💋: you have proof they’re fake? 

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: i mean fake bitch fake bags right

[ 11:49 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: idk she’s kinda hot

[ 11:49 a.m. ] karebear ✨: shut up jen be like your hairline and fall back

[ 11:49 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: HELLO ?! back me up yeonjun

[ 11:50 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: um

[ 11:50 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: 🤐

[ 11:51 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: if you wanna be fucking stupid then knock yourself out

[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear ✨: loved a message

[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear ✨: hey my place tonight jun 🥰

[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: are you gonna listen to your own advice yj

[ 11:51 a.m. ] karebear ✨: excuse me ????

[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: 🤐🤐🤐

[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: proverbs 26:11

“Hey, doll, what’s so funny?” 

Jaemin appears next to you, and you let out a startled squeak, jumping in your seat, and he laughs, quickly placing his hands on your shoulders to steady you. You look at him wide eyed for a few seconds, his question not yet registering in your mind, and he waits patiently for your answer.

“Oh!” Your eyes light up, and he smiles at the endearing sight. “Just Karina ranting about something and Yeonjun being whipped.”

“Ah, so the usual?” He reaches for your bag, slinging it over his shoulder, and you stand up, pulling your skirt down once more to ensure you’re covered. The two of you start to make your way out of the Langley Hall. 

“Yep. How was the midterm for you?”

He brightens up, opening the door for you and you thank him. “It wasn’t too bad at all! I actually understood like 90% of the questions and for the others, I was able to narrow down the answers between two choices, so 50/50 chance, fingers crossed I picked the right one.”

You beam when you hear that, and he returns the smile, eyes crinkling in the corners, and you pretend to wipe away faux tears. “I feel like a proud mom.”

“I think my mom actually will be proud,” he says, eyes scanning the cars parked on the nearby street before finding his. He grabs your hand, tugging you along. “C’mon, we gotta go celebrate that our misery is over until finals week. Plus, we gotta prep you when you talk to Hyuck.”

“Wait, what?” You abruptly stop short, and he nearly loses his grip on your hand. “When am I talking to him?”

“This Saturday. You’re coming with me to the Nu Chi party, right?”

“Since when? I don’t go to parties,” you protest, “They’re too loud and noisy, and beer is gross and—”

“You went to the Alpha Sigma one a few weeks ago though?” Jaemin interrupts, and you shake your head. “That was a small party though. This one is the party of the semester. What if I embarrassed myself in front of the entire school?”

“Parties are the prime time for meeting people and getting to know them because alcohol makes everyone friendlier and people don’t stay within their friend groups,” Jaemin interrupts. “Do you really believe that you’ll get him to like you by, I don’t know, one day, your eyes will meet across the classroom, and he’ll fall madly in love with you? This isn’t one of your fanfics, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, letting go of his hand on purpose, and he frowns, bottom lip jutting out in a pout before reaching out for your hand again. You swiftly dodge him, and he whines, quickly snatching your hand up and lacing your and his fingers together.

“I hope this isn’t how you’ll treat him on your date. Thank god we’re doing a trial run right now.”

“A trial run?” you echo him, and he nods, flashing you that favorite smile of his that never fails to make you weak in the knees.

“Well, we have to make sure your first date goes perfectly so there will be a second, right? Practice makes perfect,” he says matter-of-factly, and you nod slowly in agreement. The logic makes sense somehow. 

“Okay, so where would you pick for a first date?”

“Maybe a cute cafe? Oh, there’s that one place: Cloudy with a Chance of Boba!” You brighten up, thinking about that boba shop’s menu you spent a good half hour scrolling through on Yelp last night.

“Mm, the most popular place right now is that ramen place on the end of Maisie Street. It’d probably be best to go there,” he muses, tugging you along via your intertwined hands. You nearly stumble in your heeled sandals but swiftly catch yourself.

“O-oh, okay, so are we going there now?”

“Nah, let’s do the ice cream place next door to it. Not really feeling noodles at the moment.” He stops to look over his shoulder at you, and you run into his back, causing him to let go before quickly reaching out and grabbing your arms to steady you. “Woah, be careful.”

“Sorry.” You’re flustered, your cheeks now growing hotter than a furnace. Jaemin reaches forward, his finger carefully swiping at the smudged lip gloss on the corner of your lip. “Where’s your lip gloss? You should reapply this.”

Eyes widening, he then shifts and peers behind him, craning his neck to the side in all attempts to look at the back of his shirt. “There’s not a mark on my shirt, right?” 

You quickly rub off any shimmery residue. “It’s fine, your shirt is dark blue, so you can’t see it anymore.” 

“Oh, good. Wait, where’s your lip gloss?” You fish through your bag, pulling out the tube and handing it to Jaemin. He uncaps it, giving you the lower half of the gloss before gently grasping your chin with one hand. He leans forward and tilts your head towards him, his eyes focused on your lips. The butterflies in your stomach erupt in an instant. You try so hard to stand still, fidgeting with one of the rings on your finger behind your back. 

Jaemin’s face is so close to yours that you can count every single long dark eyelash that frames his pretty eyes. His lips are the prettiest shade of carmine, and you wonder what it’s like to be Aphrodite’s favorite child. How lucky you are to already be basking in the attention of her favorite; imagine how much luckier he is to be her favorite.

The beautiful boy in front of you carefully applies the gloss for you, fully concentrating on coating your lips with a pretty sheen once again. When he glances up, he’s almost blown away by the way you’re looking at him. 

You look stunning, pretty as a picture in VOGUE magazine. Not quite the cover page, but you’re nearly there. A swell of pride runs through his veins, like an artist admiring his latest masterpiece on show in MOMA.

“Anyway,” he clears his throat, handing back to you the lip gloss. “Let’s go. We’re almost there.”

“Alright.” You follow behind him like a lost puppy, and he reaches back to grab your hand and interlace your fingers. Your heart nearly skips a beat as your cheeks grow warmer once again, and for a split second, you wonder if he feels the same way.

“We’re here,” Jaemin announces, letting go of your hand to open the shop’s door, the bell above it jingling faintly as he gestures for you to go inside.

You enter the pretty shop, marveling the clean and simple interior with circular white tables and matching garden iron chairs surrounding each one. There’s bright greenery and plants decorating the edges of the shop, and the wall is covered in mismatched frames of paintings and pictures in various sizes and colors. The cheeky neon sign displayed near the front read, “It’s not gonna lick itself!”, and you laugh softly when you see it. The display of different colorful ice creams at the front are absolutely enticing, and you’re already struggling to decide which two flavors to pick.

You finally decide on a Vietnamese coffee and honeycomb swirl, accepting it from the cashier before you start to pull out your wallet. Before you can even pull out your card, Jaemin taps his phone against the screen, paying for both yours and his.

“Never pay on the first date,” he chides you lightly, picking up his ice cream. “Always let the guy pay for the first date.”

“Oh, but shouldn’t we at least split it?” You ask sheepishly, walking towards a table near the back that he gestures towards. He follows behind you, picking up some spoons and napkins.

“If the guy is so broke that he can’t pay $7 for your ice cream, then he shouldn’t be out dating anyway. He should be getting a job,” Jaemin retorts, tugging your chair out for you before sitting across from you and handing you a spoon and napkin. “Don’t you watch that Shera lady? Sprinkle, sprinkle and all that jazz. Maybe you can split for the future dates, but if the guy has any basic decency, he would pay for the first one.”

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind,” you sigh, taking a hefty scoop of your ice cream and having the first bite. It’s delicious, and you make a mental note to buy a pint and bring back to your dorm to share with Giselle later.

The two of you continue to discuss various appropriate topics to broach on a first date (“Hey Jaemin, you like cheese? My favorite’s Gouda.” “… Please do not ask that.”). You quickly jot down bullet points in your Notes app, your fingers flying over the screen as Jaemin instructs you on good conversational starters and body language.

“So you just need to touch him on his upper forearm and then pull away. Stroke his ego and say he’s funny or some shit like that. At least you don’t have to force yourself to laugh with him though because Hyuck is naturally funny anyway. And he’s good at keeping up the conversation and a people person, so it won’t be awkward even for your first date,” Jaemin continues as you nod, rapidly typing what he says.

“And at the end of the date, touch his shoulder again, glance down at his lips for a brief second before making eye contact. If he’s bold enough, he’ll go for the first kiss. But then just immediately smile and say you had a great time before he can lean in. After that, he won’t stop thinking about that moment, and it’ll drive him crazy, and he’ll be texting you for a second date within the next day.”

“Mm, okay, I think I got it,” you mumble absentmindedly, engrossed in writing down the last few bullet points and Jaemin leans over to take a closer look at your phone, his eyes flitting over the screen.

“So for the last point, do I have to deny the first kiss then? Smile and walk away before he leans in and…” 

You start to ask until you look up, and your breath hitches in your throat at the close proximity, your and his noses almost brushing. Jaemin is so pretty, even prettier when you can count the few freckles dotting his face, can clearly see the mesmerizing golden flecks dotting his irises, can admire the way his lips look so soft and curve into the picture perfect smile. Your heart thumps wildly, nearly falling onto the floor along with your jaw when you glance up from staring at his lips and see that he’s already looking back at you with the softest expression on his face.

“You don’t have to,” Jaemin murmurs, and your heart stutters in your chest as he moves in closer, his lashes brushing against your cheek, and suddenly, his lips are pressed against yours. They’re pink and soft and slot perfectly against yours in a way that has your heart skipping beats and stomach doing cartwheels.

Eyes widening, you freeze up, letting out a quiet squeak of surprise, before he pulls away, giving you an amused smile. The lingering warmth on your lips makes your cheeks heat up, and you have to break eye contact, stammering over your words as you gently graze your fingers over your lips in wonderment.

Jaemin laughs softly as he leans back in his chair. “We’ll have to work on this too then. You’re kissing like it’s a Park Shinhye kdrama.”

You’re still dazed, cheeks growing even warmer as you avoid his gaze, fiddling with the loose thread on the hem of your skirt. “That was my first kiss.”

Jaemin pauses at the realization, his cheeks flushing slightly before he clears his throat, giving you a half smile and a light chuckle, “Oh, really? That’s cute, doll. Well, I’ll teach you some tips, so you’ll be better at it by the time you ask Hyuck out. At least you got a decent first kiss, right? No big deal.”

“Yeah, no big deal,” you echo softly, your heart still racing at breakneck speed. You pretend to focus on the remnants of your ice cream in the bottom of your paper cup, fingers gripping around the container tightly.

Jaemin was right.

You don’t think you’ll be able to stop thinking about this moment anytime soon.

viii. come on, barbie, let’s go party!

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

Moon asks worriedly, helping you with your makeup as you sit, perched on the edge of your bed. She uncaps your eyeliner as Lana fusses with your shirt, smoothing out any of the wrinkles. “Actually, I can’t do it. You do it, Yang. You’re an expert at this.”

“Alright, give it to me.” Yangyang comes over, grabbing the eyeliner and expertly draws on the wing above your right eye. “Years of cosplay have finally come in handy. Although, I still can’t believe you’re putting in all this effort for Jaemin.”

“I need to look pretty. He usually does my makeup for me, but he’s busy right now,” you mumble, twisting the ring around your finger anxiously. “It’s my first time going to a party. I can’t embarrass him when he’s a ten.”

“Yeah, in rupees,” Yangyang scoffs, and Lana frowns at you, stopping in her tracks. “Don't talk about yourself like that. You’re already pretty, and if anything, you should be embarrassed to be seen with that slime ball. I can’t believe he doesn’t even have the decency to pick you up. Why are you the one going to his place?”

“He has some frat meeting right now,” you answer, glancing down at your newly manicured nails. The pearl color shimmers under the light, and you can’t help but admire it even more. You wish they were a little shorter, but they really do look quite pretty.

“What meeting? We’re in the same frat. Also, hold still,” Yangyang huffs, holding your chin as he draws on the left wing over your eye. “We need them to look like twins, not cousins twice removed.”

“I don’t know, he just said there was some meeting,” you mumble, holding perfectly still until he finally finishes. “Maybe it was a one on one meeting or something, who knows?”

“I still think he’s shady,” Lana grumbles, and Moon nods as well. “Yeah, like the first kiss thing?”

“It’s no big deal,” you wave your hand dismissively, hopping off of your bed and taking a look at yourself in your mirror. “Better to get it over with, right? I mean, imagine being this old and not having your first kiss yet.”

“Is that what he said to you?” Moon huffs, affronted, and you shift in your place uncomfortably. “No, of course not. It’s just—everyone gets their first kiss when they’re like fourteen or fifteen, right?”

“That’s not the point,” Lana says indignantly, tucking your hair behind your ear carefully. “You wanted it to be special, didn’t you? It just feels like… he took something away from you.”

“He didn’t. I wanted this,” you answer loudly, ignoring the way your stomach flip flops as you try not to think back to that moment. He kissed you, he really does like you back, he might have not said it out loud, but he knows how much it means to you (Wouldn’t he?).

“Okay, as long as you’re happy,” Moon gives in, and she and Lana exchange a worried look that goes unnoticed by you. But what can they do? They can continue to try convincing you, but it will never work when it falls on deaf ears. 

“I am,” you insist, avoiding your friends’ gazes and staring at yourself back in the mirror. Moon attempts to lift the mood again, offering you a tentative smile in the reflection. “This whole thing is like a whole emotional rollercoaster, and Yangyang is definitely not tall enough to ride.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m literally almost six foot tall,” Yangyang shoots back, and you laugh, relaxing once more as you watch your friends start to bicker again.

“Listen, you can’t be delusional and short. Pick a struggle.” Moon counters, and Lana agrees, handing you your phone to tuck into your pocket. “She’s right. You carry yourself with the confidence of a much taller man.”

You smile fondly as the bickering between your friends continues. You miss them, you realize with a jolting pang of regret, you haven’t been hanging out with them as often as you used to. In fact, the majority of your weeks are spent with Jaemin and his friends.

It’s your first cold dose of reality, and you’re hit with a startling truth. You haven’t been a very good friend lately.

—

Lana drove you to the Nu Chi Theta house, and you felt like a kindergartener being dropped for her first day of school. Your face feels hot as a wave of embarrassment rushes over you as you notice the amount of glances you receive from the insanely pretty girls and boys already on the front lawn and streaming out from the front door. You quickly exit the vehicle, hurriedly waving good bye over your shoulder before making your way into the house, almost tripping over the raised walkway.

You wander around the house, searching for Jaemin and quickly sidestepping a through the couples and other students dancing around, nearly getting bowled over by someone you recognize from your school’s football team. He gives you a quick once over before offering a half apology, eyes set on another girl on the other side of the room. You take a deep breath before pushing your way into the next room, finally spotting Jaemin with his friends, minus Jeno and Somi, by the staircase and letting out a sigh of relief.

“Hey,” you say breathlessly, squeezing through two couples busily making out in the doorway and wincing slightly when you jostle both of them, causing them to give you dirty looks before resuming their activities. 

“Oh, hi, Y/N!” Karina says brightly, giving you a perfect smile and reaching over to squeeze your arm gently. “We didn’t think you’d make it.”

“My first frat party? Of course, I wouldn’t miss it,” you laugh, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear nervously before fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Jaemin gives you a small smile, and you return it with a slightly shaky one, your eyes flickering towards the fading pink, glossy lip mark staining the collar of his shirt. The color is much too dark to be Jaemin’s, and your stomach churns slightly.

“You look so pretty, Y/N, I love the confidence,” Lia chimes in, gently pinching the fabric of your skirt between her manicured fingers. “I love this, you’ll have to let me borrow it sometime.”

“Oh, of course! You can borrow it anytime,” you agree quickly, flashing her a slightly forced smile before glancing over at Jaemin again, unsure what to do.

“Where do you shop?” Yeonjun asks, glancing over at your outfit. “The shirt is nice, too.”

“Oh my god, yes, we have to go shopping together sometime, and you’ll have to show me all the good places,” Karina cuts in, nudging you gently before letting out a sigh, looking over at Lia. “God, I’ve been feeling so fat lately, like freshman twenty might be getting to me.”

“No, same, I’ve been extending my gym sessions and doing Pilates,” Lia huffs softly, and you remain silent, switching your weight around on each foot, glancing over at Jaemin helplessly.

“I need another drink. You coming, Y/N?” Jaemin finally speaks up before brushing past Yeonjun, and you hurriedly follow behind him, careful not to fall behind or get swept away. He quickly pushes through to the kitchen, finding a spot next to the counter covered in various bottles of cheap alcohol and stacks of red solo cups dispersed in between.

“You want one?” Jaemin asks, extending a shot of vodka he just poured out towards you, and you shake your head before he gives a wry smile. “You sure? It’ll help with the nerves. You were shaking back there.”

Your cheeks grow warm. “You noticed?”

“Everybody noticed,” he snorted, handing you the cup, and you wince slightly before holding your nose and downing it in one go. “Give me another then.”

“Atta girl,” Jaemin hands you another shot and you take that one just as quickly, making a face that causes him to smile subconsciously. As he pours himself a cup of beer, he spots Donghyuck by the pool out back, and a knot settles in his stomach uncomfortably. He almost doesn’t want to tell you, and he doesn’t know why. It’s just because he worked so hard to make you look this good, and his loudmouth friend gets to reap all the benefits, he tells himself, taking a swig of his drink, Donghyuck doesn’t know how lucky he is.

Ignoring all the stop signs and whistles going off in his head, he gestures towards Donghyuck outside, clenching the red cup in his hand a little tighter than normal. “There’s your chance. Gotta do it before the alcohol wears off.”

“Oh, um, actually, I wanted to talk to you,” you stammer out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear again (It’s one of your habits when you’re nervous, and he thinks it might be his favorite). He pushes down the growing knot in his stomach.

“We’ll talk later, yeah? You can’t miss this,” Jaemin insists before nudging you in the direction of the pool outside despite your soft protests.

“W-wait, I  jus—” you say desperately, but Jaemin merely waves you off before disappearing back into the party inside. You let out a sigh, shoulders sagging slightly. You wouldn’t want to disappoint him after all the effort he put in these past four weeks.

You’ll tell him later.

—

“Oh? Where’s your little Barbie doll, Jaemin?” Karina simpers as she lazily taps her pretty manicured nails against the half filled red solo cup in her other hand when Jaemin returns to his original spot. “Have you gotten bored of playing with her yet?”

“It’s not like that,” Jaemin answers hotly, “She’s… fun. She makes me laugh.”

“How? By looking at her?” Yeonjun snorts, chugging his own cup before crinkling it in his fist. Jaemin wants to throw up. “We thought you just did this because you’ve been having a dry spell and were bored. Where is she anyway?

 “She’s talking to Hyuck right now,” Jaemin mumbles meekly, shoulders slightly hunched over as he stares into the depths of his own solo cup.

“Really? I mean, is she even his type?” Lia asks skeptically, straightening up in her spot to see if she can spot you or Donghyuck anywhere. “If anything, I thought her friend—the pretty English major one—would be his type. How is she anyone’s type?”

“Hey, he turned her from a four to a solid eight. She might even go up half a point once you introduce her to an exercise and diet plan.” Karina says offhandedly, raising her cup towards him in mock salute before taking a sip.

“Yeah, how are you going to do that? It’s not like you can even sugarcoat it for her because then she’d eat it too,” Yeonjun throws out with a smirk, and Jaemin feels sick to his stomach, the nauseating feeling growing exponentially and gnawing at him as his friend continues, “I mean she’s probably already on the seafood diet because she sees any food and just eats it. How can you even stand her, Jae? The way she just follows you around like a puppy. Isn’t it annoying?”

“God, I know, the way she basically chases after us like a lap dog is so pathetic. At least she takes good insta pics for us though, so she’s somewhat useful. But we had that one really good group photo at that last party, and she totally ruined the picture. You can’t even crop her out because she had to stand next to you, Jae,” Lia complains, rolling her eyes, and Karina laughs, taking out her phone and scrolling through her photos.

“Oh my god, I know  the exact photo you’re talking about. It’s this one, right? She practically threw herself into your arms,” She flashes her screen towards the group, and Jaemin wants to shrink and crawl into a hole somewhere and die. Was it the best photo of you? No. Was it the worst? Maybe close to it. You’re standing sideways and still taking up more space in the photo than the others, and the flash photography did not do any favors for you. You stand out even worse than Will Smith in the sunflower costume meme. He cringes inwardly, noting the way your skirt had rolled up and you’re smiling a little too widely. He makes a mental note to help you practice  better, more flattering poses later on.

“You know that famous baby hippo? Moo Deng? I think we found her twin from the future,” Yeonjun barks out a laugh, reaching over and zooming in on you as Karina smirks before putting away her phone. Lia giggles and glances over at Jaemin, scrutinizing his reaction before a sly expression makes an appearance on her face, saying coyly, “You have a crush on her, don’t you?”

Jaemin flushes, embarrassment coating his cheeks, and he immediately snaps, “Shut up, I might be lonely, but I’m not despera—”

“Oh, Y/N!” Lia says loudly, effectively cutting Jaemin short. “How did it go? Are you and Hyuck gonna be the new couple on campus?”

Immediately, his heart drops even further to his stomach, and Jaemin whirls around to see you standing a few feet away. Did Lia know you were there?  How long were you standing there? Did you hear them? Did you hear every horrible thing they said about you?

“Oh, Donghyuck said he wasn’t interested, but he was nice about it,” you say, offering a vague smile in Jaemin’s direction, and he nearly breathes a sigh of relief as his heart starts to slow back down to its normal rate. A part of him is glad that Donghyuck rejected you, and he nearly misses what you say next, too caught up in this unfamiliar feeling.

“I think I’m going to head back to my dorm. I’m a little tired. Thank you for inviting me.”

With that, you turn away and walk off, but something still doesn’t feel right to Jaemin. It’s a split second decision but for once, he puts his heart over his mind and chases after you, ignoring the increasing whispers from his friends and their eyes searing into his back.

ix. raise your hand if you have ever been personally victimized by na jaemin.

Jaemin is right on your heels the entire time you walk back to your dorm. All he receives is stony silence from you that he fills with babbling nonsense, asking you what’s wrong to no avail. When you finally enter your dorm, you turn to him at last, and he perks up. However, the two words that come out of your mouth have him deflating faster than Yangyang’s ego when Alice called him a shitty kisser with too much saliva (“You’re supposed to make me wet down there, not up here. Honestly, dude, if I wanted to drown myself, I would’ve jumped into the ocean.”).

“We’re done.”

You decide to bite the bullet.

After freeing your feet from their pointy death contraptions, you peel off each layer of clothing one by one, unzipping the mini skirt and kicking it away before tugging at the spandex, unleashing the breath you’ve been holding in since 8 a.m. to fit into it. There’s still indents marking the dips in your waist and your thighs, a lasting reminder that stays like an embarrassing stain. You fling that abhorrent piece of elastic elsewhere, and it falls near the end of your bed, out of sight behind the pile of textbooks you haven’t touched for the past three days.

“Hold on, what are you talking about? We made so much progress. You wanted to do this,” Jaemin protests, following after you and picking up the discarded garments you threw haphazardly. He waves around the skirt like a white flag. “You wanted to be in the popular crowd, and you got it. You’re this close to dating Hyuck. Yeah, he might’ve said no now, but we’ll come up with a new plan—You can bounce back from this! Why are you quitting now?”

Removing the off-the-shoulder pink top that restricts your arm movement, you quickly slip on an oversized sweater before reaching back and unhooking the strapless bra whose underwire has been digging into your ribs for so many hours, a sigh of relief escaping between your teeth. You toss it onto your chair without another care in the world, and it lands next to the shirt in a heap.

“Because this isn’t me. This isn’t what I like.”

“Of course, it is. This is still you: just new and improved,” he insists, frantically attempting to hand you your discarded shirt and pleather skirt. You ignore them, opting to pull out and put on your favorite pair of stretched out gym shorts from middle school that you had shoved in the back of your closet to make room for all the flashy clothing Jaemin picked out for you. “We’re having fun. You’re popular and pretty now. You’re almost dating Donghyuck. You have everything that everyone wants. You’re the girl the boys want to be with, the girl all the other girls want to be.”

You shake your head, reaching for the packet of makeup wipes near your sink. “It’s not what I want.”

Jaemin scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous. What are you talking about? This is what you asked me to do.”

You throw him a scathing glare, and he takes a step back. “God, Jaemin, for once in your life, take off the stupid rose colored heart shades, and you’ll finally see all the red flags around you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jaemin asks defensively. He thought everything was going according to plan; he’s going to pass macroeconomics, and you got to talk to Donghyuck and are this close to scoring a date with him. People notice you wherever you go, the two of you receive compliments, his friends like you, everyone likes you.

“I have to pretend to like things I hate and hate the things I like. I have to do things a certain way, act a certain way, pretend this is all effortless. I don’t know if people are being genuine or pretending like I am. I hate this—this fake version of me.” You spit the words out like fuel to a fire, and you stand there in all your blazing glory, ugly uniform shorts and all.

“My thighs keep chafing. My feet have blisters everyday from these boots. This foundation makes me break out even more, and I can’t type up my notes in class or write fast enough because of these nails, and my grades almost took a plunge. I’m basically freezing my tits off out there in a shirt I don’t like. The lashes make my eyes itch, and this skirt is so short that I have to keep pulling it down every five seconds before I end up flashing someone.”

You don’t recognize the girl in your mirror anymore. You pluck off the falsies lining your eyes, scrubbing furiously at the layers of expensive brand name makeup covering your skin.  You wipe off every inch of it until your bare face stares back at you, slightly puffy, blemishes, faded acne scars and all. You feel like you can breathe a little better now.

“Did you really think it’s easy being one of us? Do you think people will notice you if you show up in sweats with Cheetos stains?” Jaemin stares at you incredulously. “This is how it is. I don’t get why you’re throwing it all away like this.”

“And yet, you were all for it when I threw away everything before.”

“Because you asked for it! You asked me to—to make you into someone Donghyuck would date!”

“You don’t get it.” You whirl around on your heels to face him instead of the mirror, and the anger and intensity laced in your voice nearly blows him away. “I like myself the way I am. I never hated myself. I may be insecure about how I look sometimes, but who isn’t? Yeah, I like wearing cherry lip gloss and mascara sometimes. It’s fun trying out new hairstyles and clothes and learning to do better makeup. I like getting dressed up for special occasions. I like doing these things on my own terms. But this? What I’m doing to myself right now? This isn’t the same. Am I supposed to keep up this charade for the rest of my life? If I do eventually go out with Donghyuck, am I gonna have to keep lying to him? To everyone? I want people to like me for me. To actually know me.”

“If this is how you feel, then why would you keep doing this?! If you hate it so much, then why?” He’s frustrated, carding his fingers through his hair as he can’t wrap his mind around the fact that you’re angry over this. You look gorgeous, so what’s the problem?

“Because I liked spending time with you!” you burst out, “I never liked Donghyuck—I liked you. I wanted it to be you. It was fun at first, I did like it at first, but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not. I can’t be friends with someone who’s ashamed of me.”

There’s a jolt in his heart when he hears your confession, but the second jolt comes quickly afterwards at your last words. Denial is the first stage of grief, and he pales at your final declaration. “What are you talking about? This whole thing is so that Dongh—”

“Oh, please. You can drop the act. This isn’t about Donghyuck anymore. This is about you being too embarrassed to be seen with someone who doesn’t fit your aesthetics.” You air quote the last word for emphasis, and his jaw tightens at that. “You’d rather drop dead than go out with a four like me, right?” You smile sardonically at him. “I may be a four on a seafood diet, but my ears work perfectly fine, Jaemin.”

You heard it all, and Jaemin feels like he is going to throw up. All he can do is scramble and grasp for the last remaining straws, protesting vehemently, “I wasn’t the one who said any of that!”

You laugh humorlessly, “Is that supposed to make it better? You’re better than them because you didn’t say it out loud? You didn’t deny it or defend me either, so what’s your point? 

His mouth goes dry, and he opens and shuts it several times. Swallowing harshly, he barely manages to croak out a weak reply. “That’s— I didn’t mean—I only really thought that before I knew you.”

“And that’s just it, isn’t it? You already judged me before you even knew me based on how I look. Even now, you still judge me.” He starts to open his mouth again, but you merely shrug as if you’ve accepted this for all your life, and he closes it meekly, shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably, unable to meet your eyes

“That’s okay. I’m used to it. That’s how it is for people like me. I know I’m not someone people fall head over heels for immediately. I’m the one who reaches out to people first. Guys don’t fall over at my feet, wanting to carry my books to class for me. The pretty girls ask me to take their Insta pictures for them. I don’t get free drinks at the bar or invited to all the parties. I’ve never been asked out by a total stranger, and no one writes their number on my cup of coffee,” you say matter-of-factly, a resigned smile on your face, and it has him curling into himself internally, his conscience slowly eating away at him.

“And you know what?” you continue, “That's life. That’s okay because I’m happy with who I am. I like who I am. If I have to give myself up to get Donghyuck or you to like me, then he’s—you—are not the one. I shouldn’t change who I am for a boy—or anyone for that matter.”

“That’s not—We were doing this for you. You wanted… you wanted this makeover. You wanted this.” He’s desperately clutching onto the end of the rope, and you’re holding the scissors to cut it off. You show him another half smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“It stopped being about me. It started being about what you wanted, what you liked, what you wanted me to be. I was your charity case, your little Barbie doll.”

You tilt your head to the side, studying the boy in front of you and he silently squirms under your scrutiny. “Tell me one thing, and be honest. Did you even know I existed before Donghyuck mentioned me as a tutoring option? Before you needed me for a grade booster? Would you have liked me then?”

Would you have liked me then? Your question echoes in his mind, and Jaemin freezes, dropping the clothes in his hands. You know. You know he likes you, and the embarrassment creeps up on him in the form of carmine dusting his ears and cheeks, like spilled wine on white linen.

“There are over one hundred students in the class,” he objects. “Sorry for not fighting my way through all of them to find you and have a crush on you sooner.”

Jaemin seems to not realize that he just confirmed his feelings for you aloud, and perhaps, if he had told you this a few weeks ago, you would have been ecstatic and called up Lana and Moon the second he was out of earshot. But this is now, and you’ve grown exponentially since then.

You give him a wistful smile, and as the dread piles up in the pit of his stomach, he knows this is the start of his downfall (or perhaps, he’s already been falling this entire time). He slipped from the pedestal already long ago, and it’s only a matter of time before he hits rock bottom. The higher the pedestal, the harder the fall from grace.

“I sat in front of you diagonally. You asked me to pass notes to my friend. You know, the girl who sat next to me? Alice? The one you asked out and went on a few dates with at the beginning of the semester?” You state the facts calmly, and his eyes widen at that. “It’s okay. But you must’ve remembered that we were in the same group for a presentation last semester, right?”

Jaemin stays silent, and you have your answer. It’s one you’ve known deep down in your heart all this time, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less. After all, someone can announce they’re going to punch you, you can even see the strike coming to your gut, but simply knowing doesn’t do anything to ease the painful aftermath.

You chuckle humorlessly, fingers uncurling and recurling into fists as your nails press moon shaped crescents into your palms before you look him straight in the eyes. “I don’t fit into your cookie cutter life or match your rose colored Instagram filters. I don’t have the perfect model figure or the perfect face. I don’t look like the girl of your dreams, and I know that it just fucking kills you inside that you fell in love with me.”

Jaemin flinches, curling in on himself when he finally meets your gaze and finally sees the absolute hell fires of fury and repugnance ablaze in your eyes. You know that he loves you, and he’s ashamed that you’re right. You’re absolutely right.

Why is he so afraid of loving you?

He loves how smart you are, how witty you are, how funny you are, how genuine you are, how you understand every obscure Haikyuu!! reference he makes, how you laugh at his jokes, how you dm him the funniest memes on Instagram, how you wear your purple scrunchie around your wrist during every exam for good luck and how you let him borrow it too. He loves how you treat him as more than just a pretty face, how you actually listen to him and make him feel like what he says matters, how you make him feel different—special—like he doesn’t have to compete with all the other Barbies and Kens out there. He’s much too vain, much too superficial, much too selfish, much too proud to admit it out loud, but he’s in love with you, and yet, he can’t bring himself to love every single part of you.

And the truth of that matter is the ugliest of all.

But there are standards that he has to uphold, why can’t you understand this? He lowered his standards for you, and you still couldn’t meet them. You have the personality already, you are this close to being the ideal girl, and well, you both have to make changes. It’s the prince and princess who live happily ever after, not the prince and the pauper, or god forbid, the ogre (No offense, Shrek). This is real life, and society has unspoken rules. He sacrificed so much for you, he put his reputation on the line, so why couldn’t you do this for him? After all, love always has some sacrifices.

Right?

But when Jaemin looks at you now, there’s everything, but love staring back at him. You look at him like he’s a repulsive piece of chewed gum stubbornly stuck to the bottom of your Steve Madden heel. It strikes a nerve and completely eats him to the core, but he pulls himself upright because nobody talks to him like that, nobody looks at him like that, certainly not someone like you. He invented you, he made you into the next Princess Mia, the next Cady Heron, the next Serena van der Woodsen, and this is how you show your gratitude?

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me. You act like I’m the first person to judge first based on looks. Everyone does it. Am I supposed to strike up a conversation with every girl on the off chance she’s everything I want? Do you think anyone would fall for you immediately when you looked like that?  The saying is ‘love at first sight’, unless you’re one to believe in the whole ‘love is blind’ idea, which you clearly do,” Jaemin snaps, sneering as he eyes you up and down. His heart and mind are screaming, crying, begging for him to stop, but his pride dropkicks him headfirst into the hole he dug for himself, raging for him to get the upper hand again.

“How is it my fault for not knowing you’re the whole package when the wrapping doesn’t match the contents?”

The unfiltered words slip out of his mouth, and he immediately regrets it, closing his eyes, but it’s too late. He sees the instant look of devastation that appears on your face, and it hits him like a boxer’s punch to the chest. He starts to backtrack to no avail. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.

“I am never going to be enough for you, am I?” you whisper, your breaths stuttering in your chest as your initial sarcasm turns into quiet truths now that eat away at him. “I’m either too much or too little. There’s always going to be something you’ll want to change, something you want to fix.”

“Y/N… I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. It was an accident. I just—”

Jaemin can’t continue on, his voice trailing off as he doesn’t know what to say. He wants to keep apologizing, he’ll do anything it takes to take back what he just said, but the damage has already been dealt. He’s always known he’s an asshole, sure, but this is beyond anything he’s ever said or done in the past. He just secured the seat of honor in Dante's ninth circle of hell, and there’s no return ticket.

“You just what? You thought it would be okay to say anything to my face just because it’s not up to your standards?”

Jaemin’s face pales. “N-no, I—this isn’t how it's supposed to go, I just—It just slipped out, can we start over?” 

A public rejection from any boy or girl would hurt infinitely less than the words Jaemin spat in your face. The things that his friends said before within earshot? You could take it because you couldn’t care less about them at the end of the day. But this? This was coming from someone you trusted, someone you care about, someone you lov—No, you don’t even want to think about that.

Jaemin never loved you. He never even liked you. The harsh reality slaps you like a cold shower in the middle of a winter night, and you want to curl up into a ball under your covers and cry until you fall asleep.

And yet, you will not let him humiliate you any longer. The spell has been broken. Cinderella is back to her rags, and her Prince Charming is nowhere to be found. She’s stuck as a toad that’ll never change. Eyes watering, you inhale sharply, laughing quietly in disbelief before you straighten up and your face hardens.

“Are you actually listening to yourself? You think we can start over? You treat people like they’re disposable, like they’re nothing, and once they don’t match with your theme of the week, you toss them even faster than the time it takes for you to choose an outfit.” Your chest is heaving, and the tears threaten to fall, but you push on, swallowing the lump in your throat. He reaches out for you, and you take a step back, shaking your head.

“You can’t hurt people and expect them to just let it go. I get it, I know I’m not the thinnest, or the nicest, or the funniest, or the smartest, or the prettiest. I know that I’m hard to love. I get it, Jaemin. I’ve always known that.”

You choke on the last sentence, swallowing hard to stifle the hiccup that bubbles up in your throat. “But that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like shit.”

Rapidly blinking back your tears, you march over to your door and throw it open with such force that the doorknob could have left a dent in the wall. You don’t want to cry, you’ve always been an angry crier, and you desperately want the tears to stop. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry and hearing your confession. He doesn’t deserve any of that. Jaemin doesn’t deserve your tears, and he certainly doesn’t deserve your love.

“Get out.”

Jaemin stares at you, mouth agape like a fish on land. You gesture heatedly towards the outside, choking slightly. “What are you waiting for? I said get out.”

“Y/N, I—”

“Am I a joke to you?” you quietly ask, and his eyes widen.

“No! No, Y/N, you’re not, I jus—”

A single tear manages to escape despite your best, frustrated efforts, and Jaemin instinctively reaches out for you. You swat his hand away, angrily swiping away the stray droplet with the sleeve of your sweater. His heart wrenches in his chest as his hand dangles limply by his side. You’re crying because of him. He caused that, and he feels like the biggest piece of shit in the world.

You refuse to let any more fall, glaring at him through the unshed tears and entirely disgusted with the boy standing in front of you. “Don’t touch me. I’m not crying for you. I’m crying because I’m so angry I wasted all my time on someone who never cared about me.”

That’s not true—I love you, he wants to say, but his mouth refuses to form the words because his pride won’t loosen its grip on his heart. He loves you, he’s in love with you, why can’t you see that?

You steel yourself, taking one shaky breath before looking pointedly at the door and repeating yourself, “Get out. Leave me alone.”

Numbly, he makes his way over to the door, ears ringing. You glower at him, the intensity searing and digging into the side of his face. When he stands outside of your dorm, he struggles to turn around and face you helplessly. Your eyes soften for a moment, and it shoves the dagger deeper into his chest when he recognizes that look. It’s the same look he wore when he first saw you, and the shame that emerges nearly chokes him. The mixture of pity and disappointment painted across your face revolts him entirely, and he feels like he’s going to vomit. Jaemin is utterly humiliated.

Your gaze intensifies once more when you stand up to your full height, stare unwavering and chin raised up. Gripping the doorframe tightly, you drive the final words into his heart like a stake.

“I am too good for you, Jaemin, and I will never love someone like you. I deserve better.”

And for a split second, you almost convinced yourself when you said that.

You shut the door in his face.

Jaemin calls your name through the door several times, desperation ringing clear in his tone, but it falls on deaf ears. Apologies are a fool’s best friend, and you’d be a fool yourself to believe them. Holding your breath, you wait until you hear his footsteps echo down the hallway, until the solitude greets you like an old friend. And at last, you drop the facade and let yourself cry. Back pressed against the door and head bowed, you finally let go until all the tears are gone and you’re gasping for breath, the quiet hiccups and sobs bursting forth and breaking the silence in the same way he broke your heart over and over again.

You love him.

There’s no one to blame, but yourself. In the end, it’s all your fault that you were in this mess. How can you be so stupid? You can put lipstick on a pig, but it would still be a pig. Built up insecurities will bubble up to the surface no matter how much mascara and blush you apply. The warning signs were all there in flashing technicolor, but they were all tied up with shiny ribbons and deceiving perfect smiles. They lit up your usual drab life of blacks, whites, and grays, and you were blinded by the glitz and glamor— blinded by him. It is hard to see the red flags and stop signs through the rose colored Instagram filters. You trusted him and gave him your heart when you should’ve known it’d end like this. 

You got greedy and tried to steal the spotlight, and you received it, front and center. You are the joke. You are the punchline, the comedic relief, the center stage of a slapstick comedy show. This is what you get for going off script.

Because you love him.

You were supposed to continue to delude yourself into thinking that you don’t want to find love, that you enjoy being on your own, that you enjoy being single, that you are perfectly content with never experiencing romance instead of facing the cold harsh reality head on: no one sees you as desirable or dateable. And when your friends tell you that you’re not missing out on anything with dating, you were supposed to nod and agree, when secretly, you desperately wish you can experience that for yourself instead of living vicariously through your friends’ love lives or the 3 a.m. scrollings through cheesy romance fanfiction on Tumblr. You’re been fine all these years, haven’t you? You were doing so well living on your own.

But you love him.

It’ll come when you least expect it, that’s what they tell you every time, but what are you to do when you can’t help but expect it your whole life? What are you to do when you so desperately want to know what it feels like to be loved in that way? God, when is it going to be your turn? When is it your turn to daydream about someone and know that they’re daydreaming about you too? When is it your turn to have someone walk you home? When is it your turn to hold hands with someone? When is it your turn to feel the giddy butterflies and experience a good night kiss? When is it your turn to be kissed in the rain? When is it your turn to experience the romance you can only dream about?

How much longer will you have to be patient? How much longer do you have to wait, living in denial over the soul crushing reality of it all? How many more stars do you need to wish upon until you learn to accept the painstaking truth? You weren’t meant to be loved in this lifetime.

God, you love him.

It’s embarrassing when it shouldn’t be. You just want to be touched by hands that care, loved by a heart that beats for you, desired by someone who thinks you are enough. It’s the way you would give up ten years of your life in a heartbeat to experience being the prettiest girl in the room just once and have people look at you. The overwhelming shame washes over you when you never had your first kiss until now with a boy who never cared about you, never went on a date before, never had a boyfriend before, and you have to lie and say it’s by choice when it’s not. It’s not. You have so much love to give, you have so much space in your life to share, you have so much time to spend with that special someone, but the grains of the hourglass are spent waiting and longing for a stranger who will never come. 

The thought of it all just makes you sick. It makes you sick that you wish so terribly that someone would just look in your direction for once. For once, you want to be looked at in that way like all the female protagonists experience in the movies. And you know your value shouldn’t be based on desire and objectification, you absolutely know it, but it still hurts when you go out with your friends and you’re the one dancing alone or sitting back and watching the purses. You’re the one standing there by yourself, while every single one of your pretty friends is being approached by someone. It still hurts so fucking bad when you try to put yourself out there, but guys have already moved past you or don’t even acknowledge your existence simply because of your face or a number on a scale. And when he came into your life and gave you one measly ounce of attention, you ran with it when you should have run away. It’s absolutely exhausting, leaving you out of breath and on the verge of throwing up, to chase after someone who never even looked at you, to chase after their attention, praying to god that they’ll one day make you feel like you are worth it, that you’ll finally feel some sort of value.

Forget ever being loved, you weren’t even wanted.

There is no such thing as happily ever after’s for the extras. Girls like you don’t get to star in love stories. Why did you ever think it would end differently?

You love him.

And he ruined you. Even worse, you let him.

You wish you never met Na Jaemin.

x. i can’t go out tonight. *fake coughs* i’m sick.

You would like to give a formal apology to Bella Swan for not understanding why she was so depressed over Edward leaving her for six months and making fun of her. In your defense, you were like nine years old when the movie came out, and you were more interested in Barbies back then (Plus, you were Team Jacob because you wanted a pet dog at the time).

You didn’t even go through a break up, but it sure as hell feels like one.

You probably would continue to wallow in your misery for weeks, clutching onto the only two men you could ever trust in your entire life: Ben and Jerry’s while watching every iconic 90s and early 2000s rom-coms on repeat if it weren’t for your best friends. But enough is enough, and you get that you shouldn’t be spending weeks crying over a boy who hasn’t even spent one second thinking about you. It’s just hard to take that first step back up again when you feel like you tripped and fell all the way down to rock bottom.

And so, you finally let your friends into your shared dorm room, and you definitely do not miss the poorly disguised look of disgust and shock when they see the giant mess on your side of the room (You’re very grateful that Giselle has been staying at her boyfriend’s place for weeks now). It’s an intervention at this point—one that you desperately need, and you know it.

“Okay, give it to me straight,” you sniffle, still wrapped up in your comforter like a giant burrito and clutching onto the ice cream carton like a lifeline. You know that your friends will just rip it off like a bandage, and you have mentally prepared yourself for it. Your voice comes out wobbly still from the tears, and you hate it. “I know I was stupid for letting a guy walk all over me like that. I know if any of you were in this situation, I’d tell you that you’re better than that and to get over him, but it’s just so hard to do it.”

“He who shall not be named is a scumbag, and I’m gonna kill him the next time I see him,” Lana states, pursing her lips together. “I hope he has a bad hair day every single day because I know he’d be screaming, crying, throwing up if he could never get a perfect selfie ever again.”

You choke back a sob, giving her a watery smile. “That would destroy him.”

“Good. Fuck him. Metaphorically, not literally. Why should you care if you are the girl of his dreams or not? Be the girl of your dreams. You’re gorgeous, smart, and funny and he’s just some guy who still doesn’t know how to use the correct ‘your’ in an Instagram caption.”

You can write down a thousand and one reasons why he was the most horrendous, most awful, most vile person to ever grace your life. But at the end of the day, why does it matter? What good would it do? You still love him, and that’s the worst pill to swallow.

“I just—I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“Y/N, if you believed that Jaemin wasn’t a shitbag for the past four weeks and all the time before that in his life, then you can believe in yourself right now for two minutes and listen to me,” Lana says firmly, clutching onto your shoulders and forcing you to look her in the eye as she continues on, “Remember the Barbie movie? He’s just Ken. Ken doesn’t have a good day unless Barbie looks at him.”

“Yeah, like channel your inner Gina Linetti. Listen to Chelsea Peretti. ‘Men used to hunt.’ What’s Jaemin doing? He’s pushing twenty and doing aegyo on camera,” Moon chimes in, and Lana nods furiously in agreement before elbowing Yangyang in his rib not-so-subtly. “Contribute to the conversation, Yang.”

“Hold on, I’m thinking,” Yangyang says, pausing in the middle of your room and placing his hands on his hips.

“Oh congrats, I didn’t know you could do that. But stop because you’re not good at it at all,” Moon says, completely ignoring the dirty look he throws at her immediately. The little exchange brings a small smile to your face and it feels nice to laugh. You’ve forgotten how to do that. You miss your friends. You’re grateful for them for not giving up on you when you already have.

“Come on, let’s go see ‘Crazy Rich Asians.’ It’ll be fun. We can watch Lana fangirl over seeing her favorite actor,” Moon encourages you, and Yangyang nods in agreement. “Yeah, she picked a better man after the Jaehyun fiasco.”

“Oh my god, let it go. I didn’t like him that much,” Lana huffs softly, grabbing one of your spare pillows and launching it square into his face in retaliation, and he lets out out a high pitched shriek that makes you giggle.

“Weren’t you gonna go see it with your best friend, Yang?” You ask, glancing over at him and he shakes his head, a slightly sour expression on his face. “Nah, she’s going with Dejun already.”

“So unfortunately, we’re stuck with him now,” Moon says solemnly as Yangyang immediately throws her a dirty look. The look on his face makes you laugh, and it makes you feel a little better and your heart a little lighter.

You shouldn’t have to beg someone to love you; the right person will never make you beg. The right person would never chip away at you, erasing different parts of you, until you fit their picture perfect mold, until there’s nothing left of you. You would never have to call your friends at 4 am, drunk and crying for their validation, praying to whatever higher being is up there for them to take you back. Your friends have never looked at the scars and freckles dotting your skin and suddenly deemed you as unlovable. Your best friend wouldn’t call you fat and point out every single one of your insecurities. You are not unlovable because you decided to eat a third taco or decided to not wear makeup today or didn’t shave your legs. You may fight with your parents and siblings, but never once have you felt unloved by them. Never once did you have to get on your knees and plead for them to love you back.

You know you are worthy of love because your friends and family make it look so easy. They have shown you what love is really like time and time again. You’ve been a shitty friend these past few months, prioritizing a boy over the ones who really matter. They’ve been so patient with you this entire time, and with an open heart, you realize that it is time you finally start properly loving them and yourself too.

You are loved.

xi. that’s so not fetch!

Jaemin slinks out of the lecture hall, noting the dirty looks your friends have sent him from the other side of the room. He’s been standing outside of the classroom before the session starts for the past few weeks in hopes of catching you, looking like a complete creep (and definitely feeling like one).  But what’s he to do when you wouldn’t return any of his texts or calls? It’s humiliating, and he feels smaller than an ant under a microscope.

He pretends to leave class early, staking out in the bathroom across from the classroom. Counting down the minutes, he sees the first wave of students pouring out from the classrooms and finally spots you. His heart jumps to his throat, and his hands begin to grow clammy.

You’re back to wearing your loose jeans and basic t-shirts, your favorite purple scrunchie wrapped around your wrist and an old Jansport backpack slung over your shoulder, decorated with pins of all those familiar characters from his favorite anime. Your face is bare, aside from tinted lip balm, and you’re smiling. You’re laughing at something your friend next to you says, and with a sinking heart, Jaemin realizes that perhaps maybe you are pretty in the slightest way.

He finds himself taking one step towards you, then another, maneuvering around the other students rushing to leave. He’s getting closer and closer, if he called out your name, you would hear him. But you wouldn’t stop for him this time. He knows that.

Jaemin is getting closer, just a few more steps until he can just stretch his hand out and tap your shoulder, and his heart is pounding so hard in his chest until a pretty manicured hand grabs his upper arm lightly.

“Jaemin? What are you doing here?” 

He pauses, turning around and seeing Somi staring back at him in surprise as she continues, “I thought you don’t have any classes at this time.”

“Yeah, I—” he hesitates, glancing over at your retreating figure and Somi follows his gaze, her eyes softening as she lets go of his arm.

“Oh, were you waiting for her? Sorry about that,” she apologizes, pulling away and he shakes his head, shrinking back. Maybe it was for the better that you got away. It’s probably a sign from the universe telling him to let it go.

“No, it’s okay. She doesn’t want to talk to me anyway,” Jaemin admits at last, starting to slink off, and Somi furrows her eyebrows, a puzzled expression gracing her face as she hurries slightly to catch up with him, matching his pace. He exits the building, crushing the graded economics midterm with a red 89 circled at the top in his fist and shoving it haphazardly into the side pocket of his backpack usually reserved for his water bottle.

“What are you talking about? The two of you are practically glued at the hip. She adores you,” she laughs softly, tilting her head slightly as she glances over at him. He ignores her look, continuing on his way off of campus and towards his safe haven: a small dog friendly boba shop snug in between a bookstore and a 24 hour laundromat he frequents more often than he likes to admit.

 “I honestly thought you’d ask her out at some point.”

Jaemin winces at that, her light response rubbing salt into his open wounds, stitches torn and bleeding, and he spits out the next words defensively, his pride rearing its ugly head again. “No way. I never liked her like that. She’s not my type at all. Have you seen her?”

“What is wrong with you?” Somi frowns at him, stopping in her tracks, and he halts, unable to look at her and throwing out a dismissive “What?” In her direction.

“Why are you talking about her like that? I thought you liked her,” she answers, staring at him in disbelief, and he curls his fingers into fists, gripping tightly as a multitude of conflicting emotions war inside of him. He starts to walk again, barely glancing over at Somi.

“She was just my tutor. I passed my midterm, so I don’t need to be around her anymore.” He responds weakly, uncurling and recurling his fingers into fists as he desperately tries to stay calm.

It was so much easier to pretend around his other friends. Aside from Jeno, they always took his words at face value, never one to pry. And Jeno would never push him, knowing that he would eventually come to him at his own pace. But Somi? He’s forgotten about how she can be after she’s been so busy with her schedule, missing out from the majority of hang outs for her social work and events, and their class schedules never overlapped. She can spot a lie a mile away. She actually cares. In a way, she reminds him of you, and he can’t bear to meet her gaze anymore.

“She’s your friend,” Somi retorts, following him into the boba shop, briefly stopping to pet the adorable Samoyed wagging its tail near the entrance. “You spent more time with her than any of us, except maybe Jeno. And you weren’t just studying in the library. I’ve seen her on your finsta and close friend stories.”

“Okay, and now she’s not. She’s not my friend anymore,” Jaemin answers sharply, punching his order into the self service machine. “It happens. People stop being friends. So back off, Somi.”

“Jeez, what is your problem?” she snaps back, following him towards the back, settling on a pillow in one of the comfortable nooks converted into a small seating area across from him. “I caught you following Y/N, and now you say you’re not friends?”

Jaemin hesitates, fiddling with one of the decorative pillows in his lap. “We got into an argument.”

“Yeah, but friends fight. You can apologize, right?”

Jaemin is silent.

Somi stares at him, and he wants to curl into himself. It’s the very same look you gave him before you shut the door in his face, and he feels the bile in his throat already. Her voice is quiet. “Jaemin, what did you do?”

“I—,” he whispers, breaking off and clenching his fists. He is already replaying that moment in his head, seeing the look of utter devastation on your face, and he wants to run away. The ugly truth is front and center, and he is unable to ignore it any longer.

 “I fucked up, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Jaemin bursts out, burying his face in his hands and unable to face his friend. He closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. “I said some shitty things to her, some really fucked up stuff.”

“Like fucked up as in messy drunk thoughts or fucked up, fucked up?” Somi says softly, hesitantly, as if she doesn’t want to believe her friend is the worst of the worst. Jaemin’s heart sinks even lower than rock bottom as he continues to hang his head low.

“I…” Jaemin’s voice is less than a whisper as he finally confesses the horrible truth to someone for the first time. His voice cracks as he recalls every single disgusting thing and insecurity he flung back into your face.

“I said that it would be stupid for her to believe in love at first sight, that she wasn’t up to my standards, that it’s her fault, that I was ashamed of her, ashamed that I even liked her because of the way she looked.”

The silence is deafening, and Jaemin feels the same wave of humiliation wash over him as it did on that very night. Somi is speechless, and he can’t bear to look at her, one hundred percent knowing that there would be a raw look of utter disgust and horror on her face because that is the exact way he would look at himself. He sits there in silence as the guilt and shame pile up even higher; he is past the point of wallowing in self pity, already drowning and gasping for breath.

“Jaemin… she was your friend,” she murmurs, gazing at him, mouth agape as the shock finally settles in, and he flinches slightly at the past tense. “She actually cared about you. She made you happy.”

“I know,” he says softly.

“She was the best thing that ever happened to you.” Somi continues quietly.

Jaemin sucks in a sharp breath, biting his bottom lip. “I know.”

“Then why?”

Because I was stupid, he thinks silently, Because I am a coward. Because she embarrassed me. She made me feel small. She made me feel insignificant. She made me look at myself in the mirror, and for the first time in my life, I absolutely hated what I saw staring back at me.

“I don’t know,” Jaemin whispers, staring down at his lap in resignation and unable to swallow the truth.

He knows.

xii. you can’t sit with us.

You continue to avoid Jaemin in Macroeconomics, choosing to slip into class at the very last minute. You see him waiting in front of the classroom every session for the past three weeks, searching for you, but you opt to go to the professor’s office hours every time before class and end up walking with her to class as she answers your questions about the assigned readings and problems. Alice saves you a seat in the front row, and you never told her but you’re grateful when you realize she must have asked her other friends to sit around the two of you, effectively barricading Jaemin from any attempt at sitting next to you. Finals week comes and goes with  the winter break following suit, and you think he has finally given up on any attempt at reaching you.

But life has an unfortunate penchant for bringing up things—or people—you wish to forget when you least expect it. It was supposed to be an ordinary Thursday four weeks into the spring semester, and you’re exiting your last class of the day, tucking your laptop into the cute tote bag you bought from the New York Strands bookstore as you walk across campus.

“Y/N.” Jaemin appears in front of you, and suddenly, all the air in your lungs seem to have been sucked out. It’s almost embarrassing how two months of self progress can be toppled over as easily as a house of cards. Your brain says to hate him, but one glance at him still has you weak in the knees. You take a deep breath, counting to three before walking around and ignoring him entirely.

“Please, can we just talk for five minutes? I’m sorry.” He desperately reaches out for you, and you can see some people starting to take note of the two of you, their gazes on your back.

“Leave me alone, Jaemin.” You continue to walk away, hiking up the strap of your bag higher over your shoulder, desperately trying to quell the stupid colony of butterflies in your stomach that have laid dormant for so long. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Please, just five minutes—three minutes—and I’ll leave you alone forever. Listen to me,” he says in a quiet tone. It was an order, a request, and a plea all at once.

You pause, scrutinizing him for a few moments before grabbing his arm and dragging him away from prying eyes. You stop on the secluded side of the building underneath the magnolia trees before dropping his hand. “You have two minutes. Talk.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Good to know you’re self aware. You’re finally experiencing some character growth.”

Jaemin grimaces at your stony expression. “Okay, that was deserved. I truly am sorry, Y/N. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have lashed out at you, and I’m an asshole who took advantage of you. You do deserve better. You deserve someone better than me. But I want to be that person. You make me a better person.”

You stay quiet, and Jaemin fidgets around. “Is that… is that okay? I know it’s selfish of me, but—”

“You’re right, that is selfish of you.”

Jaemin falls silent at that, face flushing before he speaks up meekly, “Can’t we start over? Try again?”

In that moment, you truly pity the boy in front of you. The lost expression on his face tells it all as he desperately clutches onto whatever lifeline you’re willing to toss out. But he’s causing you to drown, and you need to cut the cord and put yourself first for once. Maybe you can change him. But you can’t do this to yourself again.

You take a deep breath and pinch yourself, reminding yourself that this is the same boy who broke your heart because it wasn’t pretty enough for him. “There is no trying again. You never tried, and I’m done trying for you. Jaemin, you don’t love me. You’ve never felt that way towards me.”

“Yes, I have! I do! I really do,” he protests, and you shake your head, taking a step back. He starts to take one step forward towards you and hesitates, staying in his original spot. Your gaze is cold, and he finds himself wishing that you would look at him in the way you used to.

“You love the idea of me: the one you built up in your head,” you say, tone growing quiet. “But I’m nothing like her. To some degree, I think I might be the first genuine connection you ever made with a girl. You liked the way I felt about you and how I acted for you. I changed everything about myself for you, I would’ve followed you anywhere, I would’ve done anything for you, and you took advantage of that. You took advantage of the fact that I love you.”

You may not truly know what love is, but you know it’s something he never gave you. It stings, knowing that even after all of this, you still secretly, desperately long for the type of love you know will always be out of your reach. A part of you wants to believe him, but this time, you listen to your mind instead of your heart.

Jaemin’s head shoots up at your confession, eyes widening in belated realization, and you curl your lips inward, biting your lower lip. You love him. You love him, he now knows, and to your surprise, it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Three steps forward and two steps back is still one step in the right direction.

“One day, you’re gonna find someone who’s finally enough for you—someone who’s worth making pancakes for,” you say wistfully, pausing for a minute before gathering the courage to continue.

“And you’re gonna fall in love with them. Like really love them. You’re gonna love them so much that you’ll try your hardest to be enough for them. You’re gonna try so fucking hard to be the one they want, the one they love, that you’ll do anything for them. You’ll even change yourself for better—or for worse.” You grip the strap of your tote bag even tighter, a dull pang in your heart making its appearance, and Jaemin winces, lowering his eyes as the regret and guilt pools into his stomach.

“But sometimes, it won’t be enough. It’s not going to be enough,” you continue, swallowing hard. “And it’ll never be enough for them. You’re willing to move heaven and earth for them, but they won’t notice. Or maybe they don’t even care. No matter how hard you try to love them, it won’t matter unless they want you. Unless they choose you.  And it’ll hurt like hell. It’ll hurt every single time you see them, every time you hear them, every time you think of them.”

Your voice softens, shaking slightly as you take in a wavering breath before pushing forward. “And when it hurts, you’re going to think of me. You’re going to remember me because that’s when you’ll understand what it feels like. That’s when you’ll know how I felt. How it feels to not be enough. How it feels to have your heart ripped to shreds by someone you care about—someone you love.”

His heart drops, and you give him a wistful smile before it quickly disappears, and your expression schools into one of indifference. You continue to walk forward confidently, brushing past his frozen figure. You see your friends waiting for you on the other side of the lawn, and you look over your shoulder at Jaemin one last time, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself.

“And you know what? I hope to fucking god it hurts you as much as you hurt me.”

The world continues to spin, you keep moving forward, and he remains rooted in his spot, unable to look away from you. There are so many Barbies and Kens out there, so many more Na Jaemins who will come into your life and sweep you off your feet, and you’ll make them feel special and more than a pretty face, he belatedly realizes, he’s disposable and so easily replaceable, but there’s only ever going to be one you. 

As he watches you walk away, Jaemin thinks he is starting to understand.

EPILOGUE.

Life likes to play cruel jokes, and the senior year gives you the most hilarious one of all in the form of your final capstone project. Last you heard about Jaemin, he had switched his major to pre med (which was ironic to you since that field would require him to care about other people, which he clearly proved to be incapable of). However, your university decided to implement a cross collaboration between the various schools, and it’s just your luck that you find yourself paired up with Jaemin. Giving him a tight smile as you take a seat across from him in the library room he reserved, you take out your laptop.

Jaemin had asked earlier if you wanted to request a new assigned partner, but you highly doubt any professor would switch up a pairing on account of one person being guilty of being the greatest asshole to ever exist (Plus, you’ll come across many guys like him in your field of work, so you might as well start building up your tolerance now).

It is the final time you will meet up with him before the big presentation, and the two of you work together in silence, only breaking it to discuss the project topic. It is neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, settled somewhere in between—kind of like a purgatory for relationships. You’ve stopped thinking about him a while ago already, but seeing someone who once was a part of your life always brings back memories, whether wanted or not.

“I met someone.”

Jaemin breaks the ice, unable to hold it back any longer. He feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn't get this off of his chest. There is a slight pause in your writing before you resume, but he knows you are listening.

“I met her after… after our…” He trails off. He doesn’t know what to call it—what the two of you had. An almost relationship. “… After us.”

You continue to write, taking note of several points to be discussed based on your slide. He puts down his pen, clasping his hands together as he fiddles with one of the rings wrapped around his fingers.

“I made her blueberry pancakes.”

You sharply inhale for a brief millisecond before you jot down another bullet point. One, two, three, four, five bullet points until you can breathe normally again. You’re twenty two years old, but you suddenly feel like you’re eighteen again. You sometimes loathed your younger self, but because of her, you learned so many things (Forgiveness is one of them).

“I don’t know what else to do, except keep making her pancakes.” Jaemin sits there idly for a few moments, entirely unaware of your inner turmoil, before he laughs derisively, “She’s in love with my best friend. She never told me, but I can just tell.”

There’s another pause from him. Staring down at his notebook, he swallows hard, the lump in his throat never fully going away. His voice cracks as he whispers out his question:

“Does it ever stop hurting?”

Your pen stops moving across the paper, dropping to the side. There’s a black scribble from where it fell. You still continue to look at the index card, focusing on the college ruled lines until they become a mosaic blur of blue, black, and white.

“Eventually.”

Your tone is impassive, and his head snaps up at your reply. You pick up the pen again. You don’t look at him, but you know he’s staring at you, an unrecognizable expression in his eyes.

Perhaps, it would have been different if you had met the present day him back then instead. Perhaps, it would’ve worked out. Maybe he would have made another girl fall in love with him, broke her heart, and come out unscathed. Or maybe he would still be the same as his past self if he hadn’t met you. It’s the butterfly effect; you don’t know what would have happened, but you don’t care. Not anymore.

By now, you have mourned him for longer than you have loved him.

“Y/N, you were never hard to love. I was bad at loving. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

And this time, you know he truly means it—that Jaemin truly understands. It is good that he has learned and tried to become a better person. You just wish it didn’t have to come at the expense of you.

Your first love teaches you what love isn’t.

The threads holding the pieces of your heart together these past three years have always been so fragile. Just one tug at the heart strings, and everything unravels so easily, like grains of sand slipping through your fingers. You’ve nearly forgotten what heartbreak feels like, the old wounds opening up for a long forgotten friend that you had prayed you would never meet again.

You discover that it hurts even more the second time around.

“I wish I fell in love with you back then.”

His tone is forlorn, a silent resolution wrapped in happenstance. You continue to write down more notes for your part of the presentation, the soft scritches of your pen against paper almost masking your quiet response, and Jaemin nearly misses it.

“So did I.”

[augustinewrites]

tsumiki asks the question on a rare, relaxed saturday afternoon. with both the kid’s baseball games canceled due to some heavy morning rain, the four of you were taking the time to do some much needed relaxation. 

“how did you guys end up together?” 

satoru lifts his head from your lap, where you’d been plucking his brows. “isn’t it obvious? it was due to my roguishly handsome good looks and sharp comedic wit.” 

megumi scoffs from his spot on the armchair. “i doubt that.”

you press your cheek against your boyfriend’s shoulder, laughing. “that’s cute, babe, but do you want to tell them how it really happened? or should i?”

“i’ll tell them,” he volunteers. “because i have been in love with you a lot longer than you might think.”

_____

satoru meets you when he’s seventeen years old. (it’s a stupid age. ‘cause when you’re seventeen, you’re all hormones and ego and think the world revolves around you.) 

so he doesn’t pay you much mind when yaga first introduces you to his little class, because honestly? he’d taken one look at you, fresh out of the countryside with your perfectly pressed uniform, not a hair out of place or a battle scar on your body and was extremely underwhelmed. so he’d brushed you off like lint on his sleeve, because he doubted you’d even survive the year. no point in getting to try and know you. 

that same afternoon, you’d unleashed hell on him with your shikigami and almost broken his nose. 

“i’m sorry,” you’d muttered when you’d forcibly accompanied him to the infirmary. 

“you don’t sound sorry,” he’d huffed. his nose (and his ego) were definitely bruised. 

you rolled your eyes and muttered something that was probably really mean under your breath. he’s about to tell you off when he feels blood start to drip again, cursing and pinching the bridge of his nose as he tilts his head back.

“you’re supposed to tilt your head forward,” you sigh, handing him another folded up piece of paper towel. 

he doesn���t take it, glaring down at you. “why would i do that?”

shoko and geto walk behind you both, highly amused by your bickering. “they’d be good together, don’t you think?”

“if they don’t kill each other first.” the latter chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he eyes you both. 

“if you tilt your head forward, then the blood drips out and not in–”

“why? that’s where the blood is supposed to be.”

“no, it’s not, and if you’d just let me finish what i was saying instead of interrupting me–”

it’s not the last time he interrupts you. it’s not the last time the two of you bicker or the last time he walks with you through the courtyard. days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months, and even though you’d almost broken his nose that first day, he quickly realizes that he couldn’t imagine you anywhere but with him. 

_____

it’s late when he sneaks out of your room, sunset streaming through the courtyard as he peeks around the corner, on the lookout for any faculty before he dashes back to the boy’s dorm…

…only to run into geto, who’s standing outside. he feels bad for a second, because they haven’t really talked since…well, everything.

but he just flicks his cigarette, grinning in that all too knowing way of his. “what were you doing in the girl’s wing, creeper?”

“nothing,” he lies, but his cheeks are warm, there are butterflies in his stomach, and he can’t seem to stop smiling.

his best friend looks at him. really looks at him. “oh, man. you’re so obvious.”

“i’m not obvious, you’re obvious,” he retorts.

geto takes another drag before holding it out to him. gojo shakes his head. “you’re one of the smartest, yet dumbest people i know. so i’m going to help you now, because i think without guidance, you are capable of making extremely rash romantic decisions.”

“that’s not true–”

“it’s very true. like that fact that you’re in love with…” geto nods his head towards the girl’s dorm, grinning. 

he tucks his chin under the collar of his jacket when he feels heat crawl up his neck, looking away. “that’s ridiculous. i’m not…it’s not like that. we’re just…hanging out.”

“really?” his friend checks. “because the way that you look at her, i mean…wow. we’ve all seen it. you look at her like you hear tiny forest animals singing whenever she walks into a room.” 

satoru bristles slightly, because he’s not entirely off the mark. 

(but seventeen is a stupid age, and at the time he knew he cared for you deeply, but he didn’t know he loved you yet.)

geto knows though, and just shrugs. “i know you’ll see it someday too.”

_____

“do these shoes go with my outfit?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.

gojo shrugs, hardly even glancing up from his phone. “sure.” 

“you didn’t even look!” 

he exhales a harsh breath, tossing his phone onto your bed as he looks up at you. “why are you trying so hard for some guy you don’t even like? i mean– have you even met him?”

“no,” you sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress. “but me meeting him is really important to my father.” 

he leans back against your headboard, folding his hands behind his head. “why?”

“because a proposal from the kamo clan is a really big deal.” you startle when he sits up so fast that his glasses fall from their perch atop his head. “oh my– what’s wrong?!”

“everything about that sentence. a proposal? as in to be wed?”

“yes, gojo,” you confirm, turning back to adjust your earrings in the mirror. “i was born outside of the zen’in clan, but i have their inherited technique. my dad…all these years he’s worked hard to keep me off their radar so i wouldn’t be stuck there. so i wouldn’t be unhappy like he was. if i accept this proposal and join the kamo clan…all his hard work wouldn’t be for nothing.” 

“the kamo clan,” he repeats, shaking his head. he’s not sure why he’s so annoyed. it’s hard to pinpoint the exact reason. “they’re based in kyoto. you’d– you’d have to leave.”

he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but all the unsaid things that he’s been too scared to admit to himself (and especially to you) must be written all over his face, because you hesitate before you step out the door, looking back at him hopefully. 

“have fun,” is all he says instead, pretending not to notice when your expression falls. “i’ll probably be out when you get back, but just text so i know you’re alright and haven’t already been whisked off to kyoto.”

_____

“but you never joined the kamo clan,” tsumiki notes, sending you a questioning look. “why did your dad to change his mind?”

“i…actually still don’t know,” you admit, smiling softly. “he’s never told me.” 

“well, whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter now. ‘cause you’re right where you’re supposed to be,” satoru grins. he presses a soft kiss to your lips, but pulls back with a laugh when the kids groan loudly. “on that note, i’m going to start cleaning up.” 

megumi, who’d been silent the entire story, gets up to help, trailing after him into the kitchen.

“it was you,” he says once you and tsumiki are out of earshot.

satoru sets the stack of plates on the counter, glancing over his shoulder at him. “hm?”

“you made some kind of deal with her family, didn’t you? like you did for me.” 

he doesn’t answer right away, moving leftover vegetables into a container. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

besides, that was then and this was now. he’s older and wiser and he knows that he’s loved you since he was seventeen years old.

_____

your father seems taken aback, and not just because satoru gojo was standing in his study, but because of what he was proposing. “excuse me?”

blue eyes land on a photo of you on your father’s desk. you’re cherished here. loved. letting you go must be hard, even if it’s for your own good. “you want to keep her away from the zen’in’s right? if she joins the gojo clan, we’ll make the idea of even coming near her radioactive.” 

“but the only way to do that is–”

“marriage. to me, specifically,” he finishes with an easy shrug, as if he’s merely speaking about the weather. “quick, easy, simple. now you can reject the kamo clan’s proposal.”

your father is a smart man, that much is obvious. he’s kept you out of the zen’in’s grasp for years, even after news of your inherited technique had spread. there’s no way he’d turn down a deal as good as this.

“i have nothing to offer you,” he says now, expression pinched. “no dowry, or things of the like.”

“i don’t need your money,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “in fact, i only have three conditions.”

gojo’s three conditions

[blqstar]

: ̗̀➛ K. BAKUGO | PERSIAN RUGS

» [summary] ── you get a phone call from your old best friend Bakugo and end up doing more than just catching up.

cw: (2.7k) x black fem reader, p in v, this is my first time writin a fic so bear with me if its not particularly the best😭 (would love constructive criticism though), swearing, not proofread ngl

Low, honey-colored lights finely lit the room as you look into the tavern. Sultry jazz music reverberates throughout the space, as people gather around the bar. Men and women dressed elegantly sit in the red leather booths, engaging in long, meaningless conversations. Glasses clink, drinks being passed around to the folks circling the lounge. You walked into the bar, the familiar sounds you haven’t heard in so long washing over you like a warm wave.

You never thought you would come back here despite all the memories you’ve had under this roof. However, an unexpected call from your phone ultimately led you right back here. Where you and your old best friend first met.

You vaguely remember him sitting in one of the booths by the bar, slightly drunk from the number of drinks he gulped down since he’d been there. It was a funny interaction, to be quite honest. You didn’t know how famous he was at the time but you recalled his spiky hair and his scarlet eyes and knew that he went to the same high school as you.

You sat down and tried to talk to him but he started blabbering on about himself and bragging about how he would be the #1 pro-hero in Japan. You knew him to always be like this, never fraying from his goals.

His name was Katsuki Bakugo. A man with a fiery temperament, undeniable strength, and fierce loyalty to all who were lucky to be his friends. And surprisingly, you were one of them. Honestly, the closest friend to him to say the least.

You had an unbreakable bond, a friendship forged in the fires of shared feelings and unyielding support. You both connected on such a deep level that the magnifying connection could never disappear.

You spent countless hours talking to each other, ranting about meaningless things. Late-night calls and conversations happened frequently between the two of you, staying up till the crack of dawn just to listen to each other’s voices and hear the stories that happened over the day during your time away from each other.

But little by little as time went by, those calls soon turned into texts, and later, texts turned into absolutely nothing. You knew Kats had a lot on his plate, quite aware that he was one of the most famous pro-heroes in Japan now. But it still hurt a little that he wasn’t texting or calling as much as he used to. It felt like you both were just drifting away from each other. Until a few hours ago, you got a phone call from him.

“Hey, Kats. What’s up?” Your heart thumped when you heard his voice, hearing him let out a slight sigh. You hear people talking and glasses clinking in the background before he speaks again. You sensed a feeling of anxiousness from him but you let it be, only curious about what he was calling you for at such a late hour.

“Hey. You busy right now by any chance?” You’re surprised by his question.

“No, not really. What’s up?”

You audibly hear him clear his throat. “I was thinking…remember that bar where we first met? The one where I was drunk as a lord?”

“Oh, of course. How could I forget, ‘future #1 pro-hero’?” You answer, letting out a little giggle. Katsuki grumbles quietly, “You know I didn’t mean to say that out loud—shut up! Anyway, I was thinking maybe you should come by.”

You gasp sarcastically. “Are you actually inviting me to hang out? This is new for you, Kats.”

Katsuki stutters slightly, sounding a bit flustered. “Don’t get any weird ideas! It’s just…I haven’t seen you in a while, and I figured it’d be nice to catch up.”

Your heart started to beat faster at his response, feeling your face getting warm to the touch. You can’t deny, you had feelings for the man but you could never tell him that. He already has lots of tasks to do. For him to pursue a relationship with you would be a one-in-a-million occurrence, especially with how much fame he’s gotten now. Nevertheless, you digress.

You give him a soft chuckle. “I’d love to catch up with you, Kats. What time should I be there?”

“Just…whenever. I’ll be here. Just don’t take forever, alright?” Katsuki replies, a hint of excitement in his tone.

“Okay, okay! I’ll be there soon. See you.”

…

You made your way to the bar, ordering a drink while glancing around. Your heart raced a little at the thought of seeing him again, your feelings for him rekindling like embers that had never truly died out. The last time you were together had been a welcome filled with unresolved feelings—now, here you were, not knowing if you were seeking to get a long-lasting friendship back or perhaps something more.

As if summoned by your thoughts, he appeared. Katsuki, with his signature spiky blonde hair and those fiery red eyes, looked just as intense as ever. Dressed casually in a fitted black shirt and jeans, he exuded confidence, but there was a softness in his gaze when he spotted you.

His eyes went from studying your face to looking at your body, looking at the orange dress you had on. The way it fits your curves so perfectly made his cheeks go red. You even had his color on too. He gulped and realized he was staring a little bit too long and his expression flickered to a genuine smile, disguising his admiration toward you.

"There you are, finally decided to show up, huh?" he said, crossing the space between you with that familiar swagger you remembered so well.

You chuckled, trying to hide the butterflies in your stomach. "I couldn't resist the call of the infamous Katsuki Bakugo."

He scoffed, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. "Whatever. You just missed my last explosion. Would have impressed you."

You took a sip of your drink, feeling a rush of warmth as he leaned against the bar, his shoulder almost brushing against yours. "I've seen enough explosions for a lifetime, but it’s nice to see you again. How’ve you been?"

The conversation flowed naturally, with laughter and teasing remarks exchanged like old times. As the minutes turned into hours, the noise of the bar faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared history. However, an undeniable tension started to hang in the air, thickening with every glance, every lingering touch.

As Katsuki continued to talk to you, he brushed his fingers against yours while he spoke, a spark igniting where he touched. Your heart raced with the accidental contact, the proximity between you becoming closer and closer.

This is when you take a really good look at your best friend. His fitted black top clings to his muscled frame, accentuating the curves of his biceps and the hard line of his shoulders. The fabric is cut just low enough to reveal a teasing hint of his toned abdomen, each subtle movement highlighting the power beneath his skin.

His voice fades out as you drool over his physique. Within seconds, you zone back in as he calls your name, eyes focused on his face now.

“S-sorry, what’d you say?” Katsuki stares at you, aware of your reverence for his body. He smiles slyly at you. He feels the tension as much as you do, his eyes in a haze as he starts to speak.

“Hey,” he said, his tone suddenly serious, “are you doing anything later?”

Your breath hitches. “Not at all. Why?”

His eyes locked onto yours, intense and searching. “What do we say we get out of here? My place is nearby, and I…I don’t know, I just feel like talking somewhere a bit more private?”

Your pulse quickened at his invitation. You felt a thrill of excitement course through you and without thinking too much about it, you nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

…

The air outside was cooler, the summer night alive with the sounds of distant traffic and the chirping of crickets. Katsuki led the way, his pace brisk and confident. You walked beside him, heart hammering as the anticipation built within you. What would happen next? Would the tension that had been brewing all night simmer over into something more?

When you arrived at his apartment, he opened the door with a casual ease, stepping aside to let you in. The space was cluttered but cozy, with a few mementos from his UA days scattered around, remnants of the determined hero you had known and admired.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, tossing his keys onto the small table by the door, then heading to grab something to drink. You took a moment to soak in the nostalgia before following him to the kitchen.

As you leaned against the counter, he poured a glass of wine and handed it to you, the heat of his presence growing palpable. You could feel the weight of his gaze as he watched you drink from the chalice, and for a moment, the silence stretched between you—a heavy, pregnant pause charged with unspoken desires.

“Katsuki…” you started, unsure of what to say or how to breach the growing tension.

“Just… let’s not pretend,” he interrupted, closing the distance between you, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. “We both feel it. This is more than just catching up.”

Your breath caught as he stepped closer, the heat radiating off him enveloping you.

You stare into his piercing orbs. There was a fierce intensity in his eyes as he searched yours for confirmation of your unspoken feelings.

“I know,” you replied softly, your heart racing. “I’ve always felt it.”

He moved even closer, pushing you against the counter. He shifts to the side of your face and puts his lips close to your ear.

“So what are we gonna do about it?” He whispers, his voice low and raspier than before. You press your legs together, warmth building up in your lower region.

“I-”

Before you could respond, he captured your lips in a fierce kiss, igniting a fire within you. His lips were warm, and demanding, sending sparks shooting through your veins. You melted against him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you returned the kiss with equal fervor.

Katsuki deepened the kiss, his hands roaming your waist, pulling you flush against him. The kiss was everything you had imagined and more—intense, passionate, and primal. You could feel the heat radiating off him, matching the storm brewing inside you.

You moan into his mouth, your hands tangling in his spiky hair as he explores your mouth with his tongue.

Katsuki's hands roam down your body, cupping your breasts through your dress. He squeezes them gently, his thumbs brushing against your hardening nipples. You gasp at the contact, your hands moving down to grip his firm ass, pulling him against you.

"I want you," he growls against your mouth, his breath hot on your skin. "I've wanted you since the moment we met."

You look at him in surprise. You then smile against his lips, your body buzzing with desire. "Then what are you waiting for?" you whisper, biting his lower lip playfully.

Katsuki growls in response, picking you up in his strong arms and carrying you towards the bedroom. He kicks the door open, laying you down gently on the soft bed. You watch as he strips off his shirt, your eyes roaming over his well-defined chest and abs. He kicks off his shoes and removes his pants, leaving him standing before you in nothing but his boxers.

You sit up, your hands reaching for the zipper of your dress. You slide it down slowly, revealing your curves inch by inch, enjoying the hungry look in Katsuki's eyes as he takes in the view. You slip the dress off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your lacy red bra and panties.

Katsuki's eyes darken even further as he takes in your near-naked form. "So fucking beautiful, mama" he breathes, climbing onto the bed to join you. He leans down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss as his hands roam down your body. He cups your ass, squeezing it gently before hooking his fingers into the sides of your panties and sliding them down your legs.

You shift, helping him remove your panties, your eyes never leaving his. Katsuki sits back on his heels, his gaze burning as he takes in the view of your wet pussy. "She’s so fucking pretty, ma," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire.

You feel your face warm up at his compliment and nod, lust taking over you. He lowers and bites your inner thigh, licking at the mark afterward. A low moan bubbles in your throat when his tongue starts lapping at your entrance to your clit. “Fuck, Katsu.”

Your legs tremble as one hand pins your hips down to the bed, the other hand spreading your thighs to accommodate his broad shoulders. He eats you like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have. His plump lips wrap around your throbbing clit as he sucks harshly, making you keen.

You felt the knot in your stomach appear and before you could come undone, he stops and hoists his head up from your pussy. You whine at the loss of friction. Katsuki lifts his hips, sliding down his boxers, his hard length springing free. You bite your lip as you take in the sight of his thick, erect cock, your pussy growing more wet at the thought of feeling him inside you.

"Your turn to get comfortable," you purr, pushing him gently onto his back. You straddle his waist, your hands roaming over his broad chest. You lean down as you kiss him deeply. Katsuki groans into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips as you begin to grind against him, your wet core brushing against his shaft.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he gasps, his head falling back as you continue to move against him. You reach between your bodies, guiding his cock to your entrance. You tease him, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit before sinking down slowly, impaling yourself on his length.

Katsuki hisses at the sensation, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "You're so tight," he grunts, his eyes screwed shut as he enjoys the feeling of being encased in your warmth.

You bite your lip at the stretching sensation, slowly lifting yourself up and down on his cock, getting used to his size. Katsuki opens his eyes, watching you ride him with a hungry look. "That's it, fuck yourself on my cock," he growls, his hands gripping your ass, helping you move.

You moan, picking up the pace as you bounce on his lap. Your breasts bounce with each movement, your sensitive nipples grazing his chest with every downward motion. Katsuki sits up, his mouth latching onto one taut peak as he sucks and nibbles gently.

"Oh God, Katsuki!" you cry out, your head falling back as pleasure washes over you. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

Katsuki smirks against your skin, speeding up his thrusts as he meets your movements. His cock slides in and out of your tight pussy, the wet sounds of his hips meeting filling the room. "You like that, huh?" he teases, his free hand moving down to rub your clit in circles.

"Yes! Oh yes, right there!" you cry out, your body trembling on the edge. "I'm so close, please don't stop!"

Katsuki growls, his mouth claiming yours in a passionate kiss as he increases the pressure on your clit. You cry out into his mouth as your orgasm hits you hard, your body shaking uncontrollably as waves of pleasure ripple through you. Katsuki continues to thrust into you through your climax, his own approaching fast.

"Cum for me, baby," he grunts, his eyes locked on yours. "Let me feel you tighten around my cock."

You whimper, your sensitive walls clenching around him as your orgasm continues to wash over you. Katsuki groans, his hips stuttering as he reaches his own climax. "Fuck, I'm cumming!" he roars, his body tensing as he fills you with his hot release.

You collapse against him, both your bodies sticky with sweat as you try to catch your breath. Katsuki hugs you tight, pulling you into his embrace.

“Hey,” he starts. “Y’know I like you too, right?”

[boowritess]

i love love love the headcanon of the 141 not having kids and babies and ewey.

i think that john price is still very relevant to that. kinda. i don't really seeing him having a pet honestly. unless you wanted one... sure... but nah y'know... he's old tired af. maybe a cat. probably definitely a cat.

but it's been you and john for as long as you can remember.

happy to be in each other's presence from morning to night, or simply just exist in a shared life that means you two don't have to always be around each other.

you could be shopping and he could be sleeping. he's outside tending to the stuff he had supposed to finish before he left deployment while you're reading on the couch inside. he's on a long deployment again, and you're at work.

plus the prospect of kids just never seemed to work into the schedule. "nah," john says to one of your friends, "can handle kids fine, but when i'm home, this old mans bones are good for sleep and not much else. i mean the breeding kink can get me goi-" john grunts when you elbow into his side.

"crude." you huff with an eyeroll.

"but true." he says into his beer as he takes a sip, eyes sparking with mischief.

your friend turns to you. "but doesn't it get lonely?" they asks. "wouldn't you want a little one running around?"

and well sometimes the days may be lonely for you when he's gone...

but that's become impossibly hard to focus on when your phone is being constantly blown up - not by price though. by the 141.

it's never really anything outrages or civil conversation. it's gaz asking which tie he should wear at an event because price said the black one but gaz doesn't really like the black one. then it's johnny sending you a video of him besting his previous time on a training course. though it doesn't stop there. ghost is messaging late nights for him but mid-day for you, asking about how to deal with insomnia. ghost is asking you because he knows you're awake and the others are asleep, he doesn't want to bother them.

you answer every single one, with so much care and attentiveness. you save every picture, every video and boost about their achievements to other people as if they were your own. however, people always assume you're talking about little kids not grown ass men.

yet on days when you're at home or you've come home from work. you're hardly surprised to find one of them had invited themselves into yours and johns home as if it was their own.

sometimes it's gaz crashed out on the couch who's in a desperate need of a shower but definitely needs sleep more.

or the sounds of soap in your fridge, raking around to find something to eat. "lass, ye out of cheese-" he ate the cheese. the whole newly bought block of it.

gaz and soap like to hover around you when they're home. whereas ghost helps price around the house.

but when it's just you and ghost, the oldest boy. it's quiet. there's no forced conversations but probably a few shitty jokes. it's you or him making food and the other doing the dishes. yet ghost opens up and the conversations turn into some of the most randomist, boyish, silly conversations.

when everyone's at home, it can actually be pretty hectic. so you go do the grocery shopping, but you take ghost along cause he's a little like you in regard for a need of quiet time.

oh and can't forget the days you go out by yourself only to come home with a few other things. socks for john - socks for all of them. you bought johnny a new pair of jeans and gaz a couple of shirts. and simon some more sweaters.

christmas, easter, new years - every single holiday is always hosted at yours and price. where everyone comes. farah, alex, laswell and her wife. rudy and alejandro making their way- then of course your boys...

and it's there where you've kinda realized.

you and john do have kids.

just in the form of grown men.

which both you and john don't seem to mind.

you end up shrugging your shoulders as you look at your friend, "honestly i have my hands full when they're all home. so... i'm good." you say with a hum, sipping from your own drink with a small smile as john just chuckles softly.

a/n: realized I never posted this. oh well. the no baby saga continues with john price. drink water be well ya'll xx

[kazumist]

THE NAME OF LOVE .ᐟ

✩ — the three times hoshina soshiro dismissed his feelings for you as something that friends do and the one time he realized otherwise.

✩ — request: IVE BEEN WANTING TO REQ U SOMETHING FOR SO LONG NOW I HOPE U DONT MIND !! can i ask for hopeless romantic reader and hoshina soushirou.... the way he... is...... (LOVE PESSIMIST 🫵) I'm a sucker for hoshina falling first or confessing first but it is truly up to you!! i genuinely have no idea where im going with this so pls feel free to change anything to your liking

✩ — includes: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader. fluff. cw: uhm funky pacing bc this is just pure word vom LAWLZ. wc: 3583 (i did not expect for it to be this long i swear). reader works for operations and is considered as second best to okonogi (is also okonogi's assitant). ikaruga and okonogi cameo yipee! hoshina is bad at feelings ™. reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !!

to love is something you cannot name.

that’s a saying that stitched itself onto your brain because it just makes sense. loving someone has way too much depth, depending on the person who is the one lending out their heart and who they are giving it out to in the first place. it could be named as anything, depicted as anything, or interpreted as anything.

especially for you, who had witnessed, watched, read, and consumed all sorts of media that named love as numerous things. sometimes love is tragic, making two people feel so much just for them to get pulled away from each other when they were so close to running into each other’s arms. sometimes love is mirthful, having two people become the best versions of themselves around the person they love because they feel safe becoming vulnerable with the other. yet sometimes love is bittersweet, accepting the art of letting go as it was for the best—accepting that things weren’t just meant to be but not forgetting the emotions the person made you feel.

well, how were you supposed to know what love really is? a hopeless romantic is hopeless for a reason.

having a day off is quite rare, even for the employees of the operations department. the work was quite demanding, as any job involving the JAKDF was. but you still made time to relax and enjoy your rest from time to time, whether that was rewatching a good old romcom film from the 2000s or reading a new romance novel you decided to pick up.

it was normal for a hopeless romantic to dream. to fantasize. that maybe they could experience an extraordinary love like it is portrayed in films or described in songs. so naturally, as a hopeless romantic yourself, you weren’t any different. you just wanted to experience love—to be loved.

then again, liking someone does count as experiencing romance in a sense. admiring someone with traits the public doesn’t really notice is… rare. but that’s how it always went with you. though you wouldn’t really say that you actually acted upon your feelings, they're usually be gone once that person has stepped out of the current environment you’re in.

that’s how it was before.

vice captain hoshina was a respectable man. he is talented, and he sure as hell knows it. as the ton put it, you and the vice captain had a strange relationship—nobody really knows what to call you two. as the secondary leader of operations and okonogi’s assistant, it was only natural to be in the presence of the vice captain most of the time. but there’s just something different when it comes to how you two treated each other.

from flirtatious remarks and confusing gestures that you aren’t sure if you’re supposed to interpret as romantic, just what were you to the vice captain? you’ve observed long enough that he only does this to you. though you don’t really hate it. in fact, you like it that he’s only like that to you—but you weren’t supposed to like him, you swear! but honestly speaking, how could you not? you had plenty of reasons to like the vice captain in that way. you just pray that no one has really noticed it.

however, okonogi wasn’t stupid. she gets praised for her analytical skills for a reason and you wish she didn’t have to use those skills when it came to your romantic interest in the vice captain of all things. she promised to keep it a secret, though, and keeping secrets is a thing okonogi was really good at (to your surprise).

— — — — — — — — 

the first time hoshina denied his feelings for you was when he overheard some rookies talking about you.

“(l/n) is such a blessing to the third division, don’t you think?” one said as the other hummed in agreement. “i know, right? they’re so nice! did you know that they helped me once? they gave me tips on what i should do to enhance my combat power for my fighting style; it was really helpful too!” the rookie beamed. hoshina had an unsettling feeling churning inside of him as he eavesdropped on the conversation. but he quickly shook it off, thinking that he probably ate something funny earlier.

but why hasn’t he received such treatment from you? you were closer to him than some rookies, right? 

right?

wait, what the hell is wrong with me? hoshina thinks, snapping out of his earlier thoughts. he was not jealous of some rookies. those were just rookies, for christ’s sake! hoshina walks away, only to be greeted by the sight of you and ikaruga talking this time.

“thanks again for the film recommendation the other day, (l/n). i didn’t expect to enjoy it so much—you were completely right! it did suit my preferences,” he excitedly says. hoshina watches silently, observing everything in detail. and one thing he notices is that ikaruga is standing close to you—way too close than he preferred.

“really? i’m glad you liked them, ikaruga. feel free to ask for more film recs when you’re free.” you laughed at his enthusiasm. ikaruga had always been a fun person to converse with, in your opinion. and you two bonded over films! but it was really nothing more than that. “will definitely do!” he replies, giving you a two finger wave as he excuses himself.

he was definitely not jealous. why would he be jealous in the first place? you two were just friends.

and friends don’t get jealous like this.

— — — — — — — — 

the second time was when he was undergoing recovery after the whole fiasco of the tachikawa base raid. everyone was exhausted. it was fortunate that the third division didn’t get any casualties during the incident; the majority of the troops were only injured for the most part. soshiro was counted among the severely injured troops but he doesn’t regret it one bit.

or so he thought.

soshiro wakes up slowly, blinking and squirting his eyes at the sudden brightness of the light above him. he felt a weight on the side of his bed when he tried to get up, as if something (or someone) was pressing down on the blanket. looking down, he wouldn’t mistake your hair for anyone else. he knew it was you with just a glance.

and there you were, sleeping softly on the side of hoshina soshiro’s bed. soshiro takes note of your appearance that he could see right now—which was really just your messy hair. he gets up, making sure that you don’t wake up. it is likely that the operation has not had much sleep up to this point, which is why you ended up sleeping in his hospital room of all places.

he feels bad. a hand slowly reaches out to your head, stroking it ever so gently. if he were to be honest, he was worried for he operations team during the attack. he recalls regularly checking in to see if things were okay on your end, and you kept reassuring him that everyone was unscathed. his other hand reaches out to his phone on his bedside, checking to see if he missed anything. he was unconscious until now, he thinks. and the text from okonogi just confirmed all of his suspicions.

you’re probably still unconscious by the time i sent this, but they’ve been there every day since you got admitted. 

that’s all the message contained. soshiro glances at you again, a soft smile tugging on his lips. he doesn’t get why okonogi felt the need to send him that text, but the thought of you waiting for him to be conscious again made him feel… warm inside. but it all went away as he pulled back his hand from your head as you stirred awake. you raised your head, adjusting yourself to be in a more comfortable position as you rubbed your eyes with your knuckles. 

shock was an understatement when you realized that he was finally awake.

“vice captain! i—sorry, i didn’t mean to sleep on your bed. wait, are you okay? does anything hurt?” he just stared at your eyes, trying to process something. shock was still present in your eyes, and relief was mixed in them too. you noticed him not answering anything you said. worried that he might be suffering from some aftereffects, you asked him again. “uhm… vice captain hoshina?”

he snaps out of it as soon as he hears his name. “sorry, i was just thinking. what were you saying?”

“er… is there something on my face? you’ve been staring at my face the whole time since i woke up…”

hoshina blinks once. twice. then thrice. before he focuses his gaze on something else, looking away from you. you held back a laugh at the sight of red tinting his ears as he apologized for his actions. 

“i’m glad you’re alright, vice captain.”

hoshina freezes. he didn’t expect those words to have a bigger impact on him than they do now. but this is all natural, isn’t it? friends worry about each other. friends wish and hope that the other is okay.

yet why does he feel bitter when he labels this as something that friends—no, snap out of it. he thinks.

“i’m glad you’re alright too.”

— — — — — — — — 

the third time was when you were sent to work to the first division of all places. he was completely against it, of course, but he doesn’t have any concrete reason to actually protest against it. 

it was quite boring to not have you there. he didn’t really have anyone to disturb anymore. and the sudden change in the vice captain’s demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by the platoon leaders. sure, he still had the same toothy grin on his lips, with his fang peeking out ever so often but deep down, you can’t really point out if it was genuine.

after all, hoshina soshiro was good at concealing his emotions and thoughts.

but then again, okonogi wasn’t stupid. it pains her to be the one who’s stuck between the vice captain and her subordinate. soshiro was the same as the night he didn’t get to neutralize kaiju no. 8 back then. shoulder slumped, arms crossed, a slight pout on his lips, and an expression that clearly stated he was pondering about something—or perhaps someone?

“you miss them, don’t you?” okonogi suddenly asks as she organizes the paperwork in front of her. working with hoshina when it came to paperwork wasn’t really new, except for this time because you would also be present in times like these. “miss who?” he decided to play dumb (or is the right term indenial?)

“please don’t make me spell it out for you, vice captain.” she replied, pushing up her glasses.

hoshina doesn’t reply, zoning out as he thinks about okonogi’s words. well, it wasn’t really false that your sudden absence had changed things in the vice captain’s usual routine. he doesn’t see you making a cup of coffee after he finishes training in the middle of the night. nor does he see you drowning yourself in research at the library when you’re not in the operations room, where soshiro would personally lend you a hand and provide his own insights on whatever you’re researching.

oh. 

oh.

he does miss you.

but that’s just normal, right? friends miss each other. and friends tend to leave sometimes but they will always come back when the time is right. however, the head of operations for the third division didn’t have to be some kind of genius to put two and two together. 

the vice captain has some sort of interest in you as well; he just hasn’t realized it himself.

— — — — — — — — 

the day you returned from the first division was the day everything went back to normal for soshiro.

it was currently a quarter after one in the morning, and he had just finished his training. he ended up going more overtime than usual, but if he hadn't, he probably would’ve missed the open door to the library at this hour. and of course, being the ever so curious man he is, he takes a peek in.

and again, there you were. but this time, you were drowning yourself again in research. your hair was a bit messy, and the eyebags doesn’t go unnoticed by him. yet in spite of that, soshiro still found your appearance to be lovely. maybe it was just the fatigue from his training, or perhaps it’s the thought of you being so determined in your work that sparked such a thought in him.

regardless of what the reason actually was, soshiro found your appearance lovely despite it all.

“you should head to bed soon.” he says, approaching the table you were currently working on. you looked up, surprised to see him awake at this hour. but you put your focus back on your work, not even giving him a second glance—which surprised the vice captain. he reads on whatever you were working on, noticing that they were mostly reports of kaiju no. 9. 

“researching on kaiju no. 9, i see. need a hand?”

“there’s just something off about him and i can’t put my finger on it. also thanks, but no thanks. i can handle this myself, vice captain.”

“it’s almost two in the morning, are you sure about that?”

he didn’t quite catch on to what your reply was, but he was positive that you just declined his offer either way. hoshina decides to pull up the chair beside you and grab the small stack of reports in front of you. he rotates the lamp a bit in his direction, but just enough to leave some light for you to read as well if you needed to.

you sigh at him. “vice captain, you really don’t have to—”

“but i want to. it’s the least i could do.”

truth be told, you really can’t bring yourself to be in the presence of the vice captain now. everything was just confusing. you were aware that the vice captain doesn’t really like paperwork in general (who even likes paperwork in the first place?) but you don’t get why he’s so insistent on helping you every time he finds you here.  

you don’t get why he likes your company so much. you considered yourself to be plain, a bit mundane for someone to actually spend some time with. especially when your interests don’t really spark any others for the most part. 

and while you may be a hopeless romantic, you weren’t foolish. even if you like the vice captain who’s currently making an effort to help you with your work, he’s just way out of your league. he’s too high to reach, and you were sure as hell that he would never actually look at you in that way. not now, not ever.

but why? why does a part of you keep saying that maybe he does? he wouldn’t do all of that if he didn’t actually look at you in that way, right? hope is a dangerous thing for someone who doesn’t know how to stop. for someone like you who refuses to give up on most occasions. it was stupid. foolish. naive.

not now, not ever would hoshina soshiro actually look at you that way.

“vice captain, please get some rest.”

“i could say the same to you.”

god, why is this man so stubborn? is he not tired from all the late night training he does? you thought, slowly getting frustrated. hoshina tells you his observations based on the reports in his hands and shares his hypothesis on the matter. he had some valid points and he’s lending a great hand at the moment. but frustration was just getting the best of you at the moment from your numerous trains of thought.

“the fact that he can adapt so easily is scary in itself. and the recent report of him breaking in the operations room in the first division states that—”

“why are you doing this?” you cut him off.

hoshina stares at you, dumbfounded at your question. he opens his mouth to answer, but no words actually come out of him. he chuckles bitterly in his mind. soshiro would like an answer to that question as well. but then it dawned on him. every flashed across his mind in seconds, and he finally realized it.

yet the result of that still scared him.

he was in love. hoshina soshiro is in love—with you nonetheless. the person he swore was just a friend. it took him quite a while to realize it, always being in denial that it was just normal for friends to act the way you two were. but he was in love. and that scared him. because what is he supposed to do when he finally realizes that you have consumed him? he never wanted this to happen, not in a million years.

but perhaps he was in love with you long before he started tripping along the lines of being friends and something more.

why are you doing this? your question echoed in his head. because i love you, he swallows back down his throat. he can’t say it. there’s no way things would work out. he could die any day and he’d rather not see you miserable because of his death. it would be better if you found someone else—but how ironic. he couldn’t really handle the thought of you being with someone else in the first place.

why are you doing this? your question echoes again. “because i love you.” he finally says, hesitant even. hesitant to know what you’re reaction was going to be. your eyes went wide at the sudden confession, and hoshina was certain that you wouldn’t believe him (well, he couldn’t really believe it either). “you’re kidding me,” you replied.

“i’m not.”

and surely enough, the look on the vice captain’s eyes said it all. he was dead serious. "i... why?” it's ten past two in the fucking morning, and you were too scared to accept that all of this was occurring right now, so you were afraid to ask. you were too scared to just randomly wake up and realize that maybe it was all a dream. too scared to believe that your feelings are being reciprocated.

“because you’re different—different to me, if that makes sense. it’s like you have this effect when it comes to me. food tastes better whenever i share a meal with you; my day just feels more peaceful whenever i get to see you’re doing fine, and i realized that maybe i haven’t actually looked at you like a friend or coworker for as long as i can remember; i was just too stupid to realize it earlier.” he avoids his gaze for a moment before looking at you again.

“i love you. i want you to look at me and love me too. we’ve come too far to turn back. i’m already too deep into you.”

you were speechless. 

he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. it repeated like some sort of chant inside of your head as you processed everything. hoshina soshiro loves you back—who would’ve thought? you hadn’t realized that he was sitting so close to you. the tension was so thick, but you easily cut it down as you started with your response.

“you’re an amazing man, vice captain, and i truly cannot grasp how you could feel such feelings towards me, but i love you too.” you could see hoshina jump in his seat in shock at your confession, but you continued. “i love you in ways you have never been loved, for reasons that you may not have been told, for longer than you think you deserve and with more than you will ever know existed inside of me. yet i can’t help but still wonder… how? why? wait no, why was already answered—”

he chuckles at you. stopping you with your words. “what’s so funny?” you pouted at him. “it’s nothing. i just can’t believe that we’re seriously having this moment at two in the morning.”

“sorry, i think that may have been on my part. i kind of snapped there because i was just so… confused.”

“confused?”

“yeah, confused if we’ve crossed the line between friends or lovers without actually realizing it. crazy, right?”

hoshina moves a bit closer to you, making the distance between the two of you smaller than before. he puts his forehead against yours. “not really, but i look at you, and i just love you, and it terrifies me. it terrifies me what i would do for you. i’m in love but i’m also terrified—that’s what i think is crazy.”

“then let’s be terrified together,” you whispered to him.

a soft laugh leaves his lips this time. “i like the sound of that.” he whispers back.

he loves you.

and you love him back.

that’s all what matters.

love, in general, can make you feel all sorts of things. joy, confusion, anger, fear, and many more. it can also make you do all sorts of things. it can make you do things you never really imagined doing for or with someone in the first place. it tends to be irrational—ridiculous, even. but the thought of doing all of it for the person you care most about? you finally realized that’s simply what love is all about for you.

to love is something you truly cannot name.

[wooyoungiewritings]

A "First" Date - Yunho x Reader

Summary: Your best friend Yunho and you always find dates for each other, trying to help each other out with love. You always try to find the best ones for each other, but one day, Yunho sets you up with his “friend”, and you quickly realize that your best friend wants to prove a point. And maybe he actually knows you better than you think - in multiple ways.

Word count: 13.6K

Genre: Fluff, smut (it's so cute but oh gosh so dirty)

warnings: Best friend Yunho with fem reader (fem pronouns). Yunho is *cough* BIG *cough*. YUNHO HANDS, Oral sex, messy blowjob, fingering, dirty talk, light choking, unprotected sex, spit, aftercare, honestly it's one big warning because there's SO MUCH I got carried away. But lmk if I missed anything!

This is all for fun and is not meant to represent Yunho in any way.

“What happened to the last girl I set you up with?” You ask, looking to your side to see your best friend, Yunho, widening his eyes.

“Are you serious? She wanted to lick my toes in the middle of the restaurant.” He responds with a shiver, “I’m not a kink-shamer, and I respect being open for a foot kink, but I know when things cross my personal line.” He leans further back on the couch as you both stare up at the ceiling, blankly looking at my white loft. 

You and Yunho always hung out. It made it even easier having him living in the house next door, so you were practically spending every day together. Since he helped you get your lunch back from a bully when you both were 6, you two had been inseparable, and everyone knew that. Whenever the two of you met someone new, the first initial thought was that you were dating, but the two of you quickly set the record straight. You were just friends. 

But people didn’t always believe the two of you, though, thinking that you must hook up secretly, but the truth was that you’ve never done that. You’ve never kissed, never sexually touched each other. But Yunho has been the one person in your life who you always would go to, no matter what you need. A deep talk? Yunho would let you talk your heart out and listen for hours. A hug? He’d drop everything in his hands. He knew everything about you and would gladly hold you close whenever you needed it. He was there to keep you safe from anyone and anything, and he’d gladly do it.

But the thought of Yunho that way wasn’t strange to you either.. He was tall, handsome, respectful, funny.. He was every girl's dream, and whoever would end up with him would win the lottery. So you would lie if you said you hadn’t wondered how he acts around a lover, how his big hands would feel gripping your thigh while he is driving the car, or how he would whisper intimate things in your ear with his deep voice. But you would never admit that to anyone, especially not him. 

“What about that marketing guy I set you up with last month?” Yunho’s head turns to you and you immediately shake your head. 

“Ooooh, no no no. He showed clear signs of still being in love with his ex and searching for a rebound. I’m not looking for that.” You sigh, at this point losing track of how many failed dates you’ve been on this year. 

For the past few months, Yunho and you had helped each other on dates, being each other's wing(wo)man. You were both at a point in your life where you wanted something more serious, so why not get help from the person who knew you the best?

A smile crept up on your lips, wanting to hear his opinion on the thought that just popped into your head.

“I’m still down to a second date with that guy from your old work-” You begin to tell Yunho but he quickly shakes his head before you can finish the sentence. 

“Fuck no. You’re not going out with him again.” He spoke like a father to a child who did something rebellious. “He doesn’t treat women well.” 

“Well, you set me up on a date with him, so you must have some kind of idea of him and me together.” You tilt your head to the side as he once again shakes his head. 

“That was before I knew what kind of person he was. Sending you on a date with him is still my biggest failure in this entire wingman show,” His voice had a hint of humor in it, but his eyes were serious. “If he asks you out again, I hope you say no. And if you don’t, I’ll hunt him down and tell him to leave you alone. End of story.” He relaxed on the couch once again, ending this topic like a strict parent. 

And you never had the intention to go out with this guy again. He treated you alright on the date, but the chemistry wasn’t there. And when Yunho found out that the guy he set you up with was a cheater, liar, and borderline mentally abusive, he was quick to end the “relationship” on your behalf. But Yunho never told you what kind of person the guy actually was, he just told you he wasn’t a good person. But that was typical Yunho - he was trying to protect you and didn’t want you to worry too much. 

You roll your eyes at his protectiveness. "If you keep scaring my dates away, I'll never find the one." You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Or you should just open your mind up and start seeing the difference between who's a sociopath and who treats you well. Use your critical thinking skills."

“That’s rich coming from someone like you.” You joke, but still with a hint of truth behind it. 

“Someone like me?!” He sat up straight on the couch and looked at you with a shocked expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It’s hard to find someone who matches exactly what you want. That’s all I’m saying.” You put up your hands and leaned back on the couch while he looked at you, still with a confused expression. 

“What? I may be critical, but I always give my dates a good time.” His hands find their way behind his head, feeling satisfied with himself. One thing Yunho knew for sure would be that he would never leave a date feeling unsatisfied. Whether it would be him doing a little extra on the date to make them feel special, or them, full on having sex in his car. No matter what, he would take good care of them. 

“Well, apparently not, or you would’ve let that girl lick your toes.” Your comment had him rolling his eyes at you.

His tongue clicked. “Oh, shut up,” He shook his head before finding his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. “Speaking of dates, you have a date tomorrow.”

The sudden change of conversation topic left you sitting straight up on the couch, excited to hear more. 

“Already? Who is it?” You lean forward towards him to get a look at his phone, but he is quick to send you a glare and push you away from the view of his screen. 

“Damn, you nosy..” He scoffed. “It’s one of my good friends. Can’t say more for now.” He darts back at the screen and types something you can’t see while you send him a glare. Not a single glance is being sent in your direction as he’s too busy typing something on his phone. 

“Well, alright. Where does he want me to meet him?” You ask as you lean back on the couch.

“I’ll just forward the message he sent me,” A moment after a sound comes from your phone, and you see an address and a time in the message from Yunho. “This one doesn’t have an ex or a thing for toes, so you’re good.” He locks his phone as he sends you a confident smile.

“Perfect.” You smile and mentally prepare yourself for the date tomorrow. 

***

Namsan Park (parking lot) 6:30 Tell her to wear something nice and comfortable :)

You keep your eyes on your phone as you make your way toward the location from Yunho’s forwarded message. You weren’t given much information about what you were getting yourself into, but you trusted Yunho. And you showed that by voluntarily meeting a random guy in the park as the sun was slowly setting for the day. The signs weren't too good so far, but you kept an optimistic mindset.

And with you wearing a dress and a thin jacket on top, you start to realize what a mistake you’ve made with your choice of clothing. 

The parking lot comes into sight and your heart starts beating faster. It’s always scary meeting someone new for the first time, so of course you were a bit nervous. 

As you walk into the parking lot, your eyes start searching for anyone who looks like they are going on a date. A few cars are parked here and there, but no man in sight. Well, that’s before you take a few more steps and see a tall guy next to his black car, back turned to you as he looks at the landscape in front of him. 

His hands calmly resting in the pockets of his slack pants, and his black hair looking messy.

Messy hair you’ve seen before. The tall figure. Broad shoulders. The black car. 

You stop and look at him, and he turns around with an innocent smile on his face.

“What are you doing here?” The confusion is evident in your voice.

Yunho’s face lights up even more as he makes his way towards you with his hand reaching out.

“You must be Y/n! Hi, I’m Yunho, nice to meet you.” He waits for you to shake his hand but you just look at it before glaring up and into his eyes again. His eyes travel down to your dress, and he instantly knows he has to focus on what he is doing.

He’s taking you out and that’s it. But gosh, he didn’t expect you to look like that in your little black dress that he had never seen before.

“What are you doing?” You try again, hoping he’ll answer why he’s here and why he was acting like this. Where was your date? Was he your date?

His reached-out hand slowly falls to his side as his smile turns a little awkward and a nervous laugh escapes his lips. “Oh, Yunho has told me so much about you, so I thought I’d like to meet you myself and see what a date with you would be like.” He tried clarifying as you realized what was happening. You were actually going on a date with your Yunho. Your best friend. The realization made the smile on your lips freeze, but you couldn’t help but think how unusual he was acting. He was all dressed up, acting like you’ve never met before, and behaved like the two of you hadn’t just hung out yesterday.

Silence filled the air between you as you tried to figure out what was happening. Yunho then left a quick, slightly annoyed sigh before finding his phone in his pocket. “Sorry, I have to make a short phone call.. Excuse me for a moment.”

His back turned to you as he took a few steps away, while he looked down on his phone. Your eyes squint as you watch him bring his phone to his ear. A short moment later, your phone starts buzzing in your hands and Yunho’s name appears on the screen. A giggle leaves your mouth before you accept the call and bring it to your ear.

“Hello?” You answered, looking at Yunho’s back turned towards you a few meters away.

“Hey.. Are you on the date yet?” His voice through the phone was back to normal, and another short laugh escaped through your lips.

“Yes, I just got here.” 

“Alright.. Just wanted to let you know that he’s a little nervous, so be kind to him.” His voice was stern like he was actually talking about one of his friends and not himself. 

“What a loser.” You smirked as you observed his reaction a few meters away, not being able to hold back your normal behavior. 

“Hey! I’ve known this guy for years, I know he’s up for a good time, so be positive on this date. Alright?” His voice lowered so you could only hear him through the phone. This whole situation seems unreal to you, having your best friend take you out on a date, but you are up to trying something new. And this way, you could see how Yunho normally behaved on first dates, which was something you’ve wondered about before. 

“I’ll try my best.” You smile.

“Good.. Let me know how it went later, and if he’s being a creep, let me know and I’ll come kick his ass. Good luck.” He hung up the phone and made his way back to you with an apologetic face like he didn’t just speak to you on the phone. “I’m so sorry, I promise, no more phone calls for tonight.” He smiled innocently and opened the door to the passenger seat. “So? You’re up for a date?” 

***

“A reservation for two, Jeong Yunho.” Yunho smiles at the man behind the small desk at the restaurant. The dimmed light and the waiters dressed in tuxedos all summed up the atmosphere of the restaurant. This was not something you’ve ever done with Yunho, despite sharing countless dinners with him over the many years. A short moment after the waiter confirms the reservation, you feel Yunho’s hand guiding you after the waiter by the small of your back, leading you to your table. 

“I feel.. Underdressed." You nudge Yunho when the waiter leaves and you walk to your side of the table. You may be wearing a dress, but it wasn’t the fanciest one you owned, and now you regret not wearing it. Before you can grab your chair, Yunho is quick to pull it out for you and send you a smile. You try to hide your smile as you sit down and he pushes the chair forwards. 

“You look perfect.” He whispers in your ear before going to his side of the table, sending you a wink when you meet his eyes. His words and his behavior all confused you, because you weren’t used to seeing this side of him. He was always respectful, but never like this towards you. And one thing was for sure; he was not making it easy for you. 

You’ve only been on the date for 30 minutes, but whenever your hands would touch or he would say something with pure softness in his voice, you would feel your heart melt a little. But this was all just a date to see how the two of you usually behave on dates, it’s not like it means anything… right?

You keep glancing at him over your menu, hard to keep your eyes off the handsome man in front of you. His hair is perfectly ruffled, a black button-down with the sleeves nicely rolled up and his pretty hands holding the menu in front of him. Never had you imagined eating dinner with him like this would do something to you, but the flying little animals in your stomach were telling you differently.  

You both ordered different food along with something to drink, and the waiter left you both staring at each other, after pouring both of your drinks. 

“Thank you for coming on this date with me.” Yunho smiles from across the table. 

“I’m happy to be here,” You smile back. “I'm happy Yunho encouraged you to ask me out.” You grab your glass and take a sip while trying to hide the smirk creeping up on your lips. 

“I just had a good feeling about you, Yunho has told me a lot about you.” He’s back to wearing the typical smirk you know. If it wasn’t your best friend sitting in front of you, this date would be looking a lot different. But the way your breathing becomes shaky and your eyes wander to long fingers around his glass, you can’t help but romanticize this whole situation. 

“So do you usually go on a lot of dates, Yunho?” You ask, playing with the whole idea of the two of you just meeting for the first time.

“I go out once in a while.. But I’ve never really gotten on a second date with the same person,” He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. “Whenever a date goes bad, I usually blame my best friend, she’s the one who sets me up.” 

You want to roll your eyes at him, but keep it to yourself. Instead, you crack a genuine smile at his comment.

“Oh, so you have a girl best friend?” You tease.

“I do. We’ve been friends ever since I can remember,” He informs you like you’re not the person he’s talking about. “I think the two of you would get along pretty well.” He says in a quiet tone, a smile still on his lips. His eyes travel to your lips that carry a small drop of your drink, and he has to fight everything in himself not to lean over and touch your lips. 

A first date wouldn’t do that, he thinks. Don’t touch her.

You sense his focus on your lips and you’re quick to lick your lips, removing the drop. 

The way he’s looking at you makes you want to thank the restaurant for having dimmed light because you know you’re blushing like crazy and you’re absolutely hating it. This shouldn’t feel so exciting and new, and somehow you can’t help but wonder if this feels normal to him or if he’s just putting on an act for you. 

And you honestly don’t know if you want to know the answer. 

“And what about you?” He raises a brow. “Do you usually go on dates?” 

You skim away, thinking of a good answer to match his energy. His relaxed figure makes you slightly intimidated, especially with the way his arms are resting on the table, and him eying you up and down. The sexual tension is definitely there, and it’s a tension you haven’t felt before. It makes you wonder if it has been there before, or if it’s the setting that makes you want to explore what it is. You shrug, leaning forward as well. 

“I don’t mind a date here and there,” you respond. “If it was up to me, though, I would be going out a little more. But my best friend who sets me up on the dates, he’s uhm.. He’s a little protective of me.” The smirk is back on your lips and he holds back his smile by pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Something that makes his jaw clench and another flutter runs through your stomach.

“Is that so?” He asks teasingly. “You have a protective guy best friend?” 

“I do.. Does that make you concerned?” You tilt your head to the side and Yunho responds by squinting his eyes. Two could play this game, and with the way he was looking at you, you didn’t want the game to stop anytime soon. 

“My immediate thought is no.. But I guess it depends on whether or not you think I should be concerned?” He teases back. He’s good. 

“I think you should ask him then.” You smirk.

A smile also reaches Yunho’s lips as he leans back in his chair. “Alright.. Guess I’ll have a little chitchat with him later.” 

***

After almost two hours of you and Yunho eating dinner, laughing, and sending smirks in each other's direction, you walk out of the restaurant after Yunho paid, and onto the street. It is fully dark outside, and the thin jacket you are wearing is not helping much. 

But that’s when you feel something heavier on your shoulders and look to see Yunho place his blazer on you. His tall figure behind you makes your breathing stop for a second, and you almost stop him and tell him you’re fine, but he’s quick to interrupt you.

“Wanna get some dessert? I know a good place.” His eyes sparkle, even when the sun is gone. You’re close enough to smell his cologne, and it’s safe to say that you’re getting more and more mentally weak for him. 

You clear your throat. “Uh-yeah.” You shake your head to get out of the trance Yunho has put you in, but is instantly back when his hand guides you from the small of your back. His touch burns through every layer of fabric and touches your skin. He has touched you many times and placed a hand on your back or your shoulder, but never did you feel a spark like this. 

Yunho knew a good spot further down the street that sold ice cream cones, so you both got your favorite flavors (he paid, once again) and you were now sitting on the swings in the park nearby. A comfortable silence fills the space between you as you both enjoy your dessert, swinging back and forth on each swing. 

“So..” Yunho starts halfway through his ice cream while you’re not even at the cone yet. Your eyes go to him as he shifts his attention back and forth between you and his dessert. “How do you think the date is going?” His big eyes lock with yours, and he looks slightly nervous. 

“Depends on who’s asking,” You lick your ice cream while a wrinkle forms between Yunho’s brows. “It is my date, Yunho, who’s asking, or is it Yunho, my best friend, who’s asking?” You explain and he looks away for a moment to think, before looking back at you. 

“Your date, Yunho, is asking.” He answers.

“Then I think it’s going very well.” You smile, meaning every word. 

Going on a date with him was not on this year's bingo card, but you didn’t mind tonight. If anything, you were actually enjoying seeing this side of Yunho. 

“And what if your best friend asked?” One of his brows shot up curiously and you shake your head.

“Then I’d tell him to wait until I get home. I won’t expose myself in the middle of a date, that’s embarrassing.” 

A laugh comes from Yunho and you smile at the sound. Another heat sneaks up in your cheeks, hearing him enjoy himself in this setting, and you look away. If he knew what he was doing to you, you weren’t sure you would be able to ever look him in the eyes again. 

Yunho finishes his ice cream long before you and just looks at your side profile as you make your way through the dessert. A prominent smile keeps decorating his lips.

You continue finishing your chocolate ice cream, in your own world for a moment, until you hear footsteps approaching you. You look over to see Yunho make his way towards you, feeling your mouth dry out from the way he looks in the dimmed light. The moon and the few streetlights are the only things lighting up the park, and the shadows on his face create a stunning view. 

You freeze when he takes your hand and pulls you up from the swing, looking down at you with heavy eyes. He’s so close you can practically feel his body heat. A smile spreads on his lips when he looks down at your lips. His fingers rest under your chin, and suddenly you’re feeling his thumb trace over your bottom lip. Your breath hitches at his sudden act, but when he removes his hand to show you chocolate ice cream on the tip of his finger, a giggle leaves his mouth. 

“You’re messy.” He looks at his finger before looking into your eyes. And your mouth completely dries when he licks the ice cream off his thumb while keeping eye contact with you. 

Everything inside you is going crazy, leaving you speechless. Such a simple little thing usually doesn’t affect you, but Yunho licking ice cream from your lips, off his finger while maintaining eye contact is making the butterflies practically fly out of your stomach and into your entire body. 

“Let’s get you cleaned a little, come on.” He takes your hand in his and he could practically take you anywhere he wanted. Your brain was not functioning at the moment, only focusing on what just happened, and how it feels with his hand holding onto yours. A small convenience store comes into sight, and Yunho pulls you with him and over to a small table by the window, where a couple is sitting, eating ramen. He grabs a napkin and turns around to look down at you and starts wiping your lips with the napkin. 

You swallow nervously as his eyes are focused on your lips, and when he finishes removing some ice cream from the corner of your mouth, looking satisfied, your gaze automatically drops to your feet. 

Yunho notices the way you avoid looking into his eyes, and a smirk creeps up on his lips. He doesn’t say anything, not wanting to make you nervous, but he loves seeing you like this. Loves seeing you react to him this way.

The couple at the table next to you finishes their ramen and walks out of the convenience store just as rain starts to pour outside. A sudden downpour catches the city off guard, sending people running with their hoods up. 

“Guess we can stay here for a few minutes until the rain stops. What do you think?” Yunho asks, looking back at you after looking through the big window display. 

"Sure." Is all you say before you turn around and begin scanning the shelves at the store. You try to avoid meeting Yunho's gaze as you make yourself look occupied, but you sense him trailing behind you, keeping you within his line of sight. Meanwhile, the young cashier at the desk is engrossed in a show on their phone, oblivious to the two of you taking refuge from the rain.

You walk down one of the isles and stop when you see a specific kind of chips you used to love. You remember them from a few years ago but haven’t been able to find them in stores ever since. 

“You like those?” You hear from behind you and look to see Yunho standing close to you, eying the chips you were just reminiscing about. 

“Uhm, yeah.. I thought they stopped producing them.” You say. 

You don’t get to react before Yunho grabs the bag of chips and goes to the desk to pay. You’re left in the aisle, looking at him paying for the snacks you didn’t think you needed, and he returns with a smile on his face. 

About 15 minutes pass, and you and Yunho are sitting at the table in front of the window, eating chips and waiting for the rain to stop. You push the chips, lying on the table, towards Yunho and he takes one and brings it to his mouth. 

“I don’t think the rain is going to stop.” You say as you see the piles of water get bigger and bigger by the minute. Yunho stands up from his chair, glancing outside to spot something before looking back at you.

“My car is close to the restaurant.. If we don’t wanna get too drenched, we have to run. You’re up for that?” With a daring smile, he asks if you want to run in the pouring rain. Suddenly, something changes within you and you feel an unexpected surge of excitement. You eagerly nod in agreement and he takes your hand, leading you out of the store. You both take a moment to mentally prepare yourselves under the shelter before setting off to run as fast as you can.

“Are you ready?” He asks with a smile, somehow finding this whole situation funny. 

“Ready.” You answer, and Yunho counts down from three before you both sprint towards Yunho’s car. As you run with Yunho, the water splashes up on your bare legs and he still holds on tightly to your hand. You find yourself laughing and getting drenched in the rain. Running with squinted eyes and without a care feels liberating. If you were on a date with someone you didn't know, you would have been concerned about how you presented yourself, how you spoke, and how you looked. But with Yunho, you feel comfortable being completely drenched.

You spot Yunho's car and sprint past the restaurant where you had dinner earlier. Yunho unlocks the car and giggles when he sees you. He rushes to the passenger side and opens the door for you. After you jump in, he closes your door and runs to the driver's side.

He joins you in the car, and you can't help but laugh when you see him. He's completely soaked, with wet hair stuck to his forehead and his button-up shirt clinging to him. Laughter fills the car as you make eye contact. Suddenly, you remember that you're wearing his jacket and start to feel guilty.

"Oh, your jacket--" you begin, but he interrupts you by reaching into the back seat and pulling out a black hoodie. He hands it to you, still panting from running, but you shake your head. "Wear the hoodie yourself. You're more soaked than I am."

"Come on, you'll get sick if you don't warm up. I'm fine." he insists, and you eventually accept the hoodie. You take off your drenched jacket and he throws it in the back seat. Your skin is glistening from the rain, and you start to feel cold. Yunho notices and steals a quick glance at your wet neck area. He realizes that you're not wearing a bra under your dress and takes a sharp inhale. Clearing his throat, he watches as you pull his hoodie over your head.

Stay focused, Yunho, he thinks. 

Immediately, Yunho’s scent wraps around you like a warm hug, and since you were just wearing a little black dress, and Yunho’s clothes are obviously oversized, the hoodie covers most of your thighs as well. 

“Let’s get you home and in some dry clothes.” Yunho says, kindly reminding himself to let the date end (for now), so he starts the car, turns up the heat, and heads towards your homes.

The drive was calm, both of you just listening to the rain pouring and clicking on the windows. You couldn’t help but think about how fun today was, and how thankful you were that Yunho ended up being your date. Whether or not he did it to prove a point, you enjoyed yourself and almost didn’t want the night to end. 

Yunho drove past his own house and parked in front of yours. “Is this your house?” He asks while looking past you and at the house with an impressed expression. 

“It is, good guess finding the exact address.” You joke, and he’s quiet for a moment.

“I’m psychic, I forgot to mention.” His smile makes you melt for the hundredth time tonight, and you prepare yourself to exit the car when you remember something.

 “Oh, your hoodie.” You say, about to take it off, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you.

“Keep it for now. I have a feeling I’ll see you again.” He sends a wink in your direction.  

“Oh, cool.. Well, thank you for tonight, I had a pretty good time.”

“Me too.. But I should head home, it’s getting late and the drive is pretty long.” 

You have to fight not to laugh at him, so you just nod and unbuckle your seatbelt. 

“Of course. I’ll see you soon?” You ask, hoping you’ll see him soon soon. He immediately understands what you mean and he nods.

“You will.” 

You send him one last smile and pull the hood from the hoodie over your head before heading out of the car. You don’t get as drenched as earlier, because you’re quickly able to lock yourself in and close the front door behind you. 

A curiousness hits you, and you immediately look out of the window. Keeping an eye on Yunho in the car, you can’t help but laugh when he backs from your house over to his, turns off the car, and runs to his own house. When he locks himself in and disappears out of sight, you remove yourself from the window. 

Your head is spinning from the night, how much fun you had, and how much you enjoyed being on a date with Yunho. An actual date. And even though you can’t help but think he did this for fun and to prove how good he is at dating, you almost wish this wasn’t the case. Because he was so much better at going on dates than you thought.

A knock is heard on your door, and you’re positive you know who’s waiting on the other side. You run to open the door and see Yunho, no longer in his button-up and slacks, but in a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, still with hair damp from the rain.

“There you are! I was waiting for you to come home, I was worried I sent you on a date with a psycho.” He walks past you and into the house. You close the door with a consistent smile as you watch him get himself comfortable on the couch in your living room. 

“You were keeping an eye on me?” You lift an eyebrow as you sit down beside him.

“Needed to make sure he was a gentleman, you know? So what do you think? How was he?” He looks at you with the subtle smirk he had been carrying the entire night like he knew he was a good date. He could be humbled a little. 

“I mean.. he was a little..” You search for the right word. “Weird.”

He completely loses the confidence shining through him, and a deep wrinkle forms between his brows. 

“Huh?” 

“I don’t know, I think he thinks a little highly of himself. You know, he’s not all that.”

Of course, you’re teasing him, but also not entirely wanting to admit how good of a date he actually was. Yunho had always been a confident guy, because he knew he was good-looking, well-mannered, funny, and had been one of God’s favorites when it came to size. So a little teasing wouldn’t hurt anybody.

Yunho looks at you a bit confused. “I don’t-”

You interrupt him. “He also didn’t let me pay for my part of the dinner. It just came off as-”

“Well, maybe he just wanted to make sure you were having a good time without-” Yunho interrupts you as well, clearly having his pride hurt, but stops talking when he meets your eyes and sees the teasing look on your face. “Nevermind..”

You crack a smile and tilt your head. “You can tell him that I had a great time,” You’re downplaying like this wasn't the best date of your life, “I’m really curious about who he is.” 

When you meet his eyes, there’s a certain flash of something you can’t describe. But he’s quick to go back to the behavior you usually know, making you wonder what that look meant. 

“I will.. But unfortunately, he’s not gonna be in town for a while, you see, because he needs to go home and back to school which happens to be in.. Venezuela. Sooo.. Sorry.” He shrugs and leans forward, resting an elbow on his thigh to hold his head.

“Oh well, he wasn’t that amazing either.” You shrug as well, looking away from him, pretending not to care.

A scoff leaves Yunho’s mouth. “You’re acting like you don’t care, but I know you’re gonna dream about him tonight,” He teases with a confident smile and your jaw drops when you look at him. He’s too much. “He’s probably gonna be in your little late-night fantasies-” 

“Shut up!” You push him on the shoulder teasingly. 

You hate how he knows that, that is true. He’s most definitely gonna be in your fantasies tonight.

He tries to grab your hand but fails. Instead, he goes to poke you in the side. “Am I not telling the truth?” He laughs.

“No!” Yes.

You try pushing him away, but he’s way too strong, and the two of you end up trying to grab each other's hands, getting control of the other. It ends up with a little fight on the couch, and you find yourself lying further down on the couch while Yunho hovers above you. You can’t help but laugh at the situation because you know you’ve lost. And that is being confirmed when Yunho’s had too much and pins both of your wrists above your head with one of his hands, while his other hand is placed on your waist. 

The feeling of him pinning you down like this, hovering over you, is gonna play in your mind the entire night. 

This is not good, you think.

Both of your breaths are heavy after the small fight you just had, and when meeting each other’s eyes in this position, it’s like something changes for a moment. His eyes go dark when looking down at you and his hand holding yours. The same goes for you because your heart starts to beat faster, and you can’t help but get excited by this situation and the feeling of his touch. You can’t see your hands, but you know how his hands look, and you know yours look good being pinned down by him.

The silence goes on for a few more seconds, before you come to your senses and clear your throat. “I’m gonna get something to drink, want some?”

It’s like he realizes the position as well, and loosens the grip on your wrists. “Yes please,” He lets go of you and stands up. Either it's the fact that you just had a small fight, or it was the way Yunho looked at you, but you feel incredibly hot and lift the hoodie over your head and throw it on the couch when standing up. You make your way to the kitchen when you hear him follow behind you. “I’ve been eating these awful chips tonight that dry out my entire mouth-”

“Hey!” You turn around to see him back in his teasing element with a smile on his face. 

“What?” He asks.

“You said you liked them!” You fight back, entering the kitchen completely, him following you behind quietly. 

“Nooo, that was the other Yunho. He was just being polite to his date and didn’t want to make her feel bad for having poor taste in snacks. I’m your best friend, on the other hand, and it’s my job to be honest with you.” He leans up against the doorframe, crossing his arms and you have to focus on not looking at him. 

You find some glasses from the cabinet and shake your head. “So the other Yunho is a liar then?”

“There’s a difference between lying and holding back the truth.” His argument is weak, so you shake your head as you pour some water into the glass.

“Well, I think I liked the other Yunho better then. He was a gentleman, this one,” You point to him, sending him a glaring elevator look, “Is an ass.” You hand him his glass and pour up something for yourself. 

His hand goes to his heart like it just shattered from your words. “An ass!? Come on, you can’t choose a favorite Yunho. You’re gonna make me feel jealous of myself.” He laughs and you can’t help but roll your eyes, not even trying to hide it. 

You take a sip of your water, and you quickly feel his gaze lingering on you. Specifically your body in the dress, now that the hoodie wasn't hiding it. You catch his eyes traveling down to your bare legs and up once again. 

“You’ve been staring a lot at my dress tonight.” You say looking away, distracting yourself by cleaning up your glass. 

“I could say the same about you staring at my hands,” His words make you shoot your eyes in his direction, slightly panicked that he knew. The smirk grows on his lips, while you freeze, not knowing what to say. “What, you thought I didn’t notice?” He says as he slowly starts to walk closer, placing his glass on top of the counter while keeping his eyes on you.

Your body thoughtlessly takes a few steps back, until your lower back is pressed against the counter on the kitchen island. He’s walking slowly, but somehow he's in front of you within no time, caging you between the island and his towering body. His hands are placed on each side of you on the counter, time seems to have stopped, and your breathing quickly fastens. 

“So.. Is there a reason for the staring?” He stares down at you and you can’t help but look away from his piercing eyes. Your breathing has already stopped and you’re sure you barely can’t get any words out. “Look at me,” His deep voice commands and without a doubt in your mind, you immediately listen and look into his eyes. A small scoff leaves him like he knows you’re under his spell, and he tilts his head slightly to the side. “Hmm?” 

Your mouth goes dry, searching for the right words to say. “I could ask you the same.” Is all you manage to say.

“And my answer would be yes.” He’s quick to say like he has nothing to hide. His confidence shines through, and it makes your heart beat even faster. 

You’re quiet for a moment as you take in what he just said. “And what is the reason?” You ask, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice. You’ve never seen this side of Yunho before (only when he’s been flirting with girls at parties) and you honestly don’t know how to act back. You know exactly where your mind goes when thinking of his hands, deep voice, and dominating manner, but you can’t admit that to him. 

His eyes linger on your lips for a moment and then back to your eyes. “I can’t tell you.” 

“Why?” 

Never has the tension been like this between the two of you, and it’s like you both know what the other is thinking, but neither of you is doing anything about it. 

“It’s not something best friends say.” His voice turns to a whisper and your breathing stops again. You can’t look him in the eyes, afraid to expose yourself so your eyes instantly shoot away.

It’s not something best friends say.

Your mind is going crazy, and all you wanna do is know what he’s thinking about. The game you’ve both decided to play, leaving nothing but subtle thoughts for the imagination, is killing you. But he just fully admitted that he’s been thinking the same thing as you because you would never directly admit to him how he’s been running through your mind tonight. But he has, in ways you won’t even be able to put into words. 

“What are you thinking about?” He’s still keeping his eyes on you and you somehow find the courage to look back into his eyes. 

“It’s.. It’s not something best friends say.” Is all you say and you see a change in the way he looks at you. Everything burns inside Yunho, and he wants so badly to do what he’s been thinking about for hours and hours, but he’s not sure you’re ready. Your friendship would change in an instant, and he wants you to be sure.

He opens his mouth, getting ready to ask, “Can I ki-”

“Yes.” You interrupt him before you grab him by the collar and smash your lips against his in a heated kiss. Everything comes crumbling down, like you both had been waiting for this to happen, in a messy, eager kiss. His hands find their way around your waist to pull you closer, not leaving his lips from yours. The counter from the kitchen island is pressing against your back as he towers over you, devouring your lips. He picks you up effortlessly and places you on the counter, and you instantly wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer. A muffled moan escapes his lips against yours, as he feels you against his hardening cock. He pulls back for a second to get a look at you, his eyes traveling down your body. 

“Holy fuck.. You look so fucking beautiful.” He breathed, looking into your doe eyes. The spark in them is enough for him to miss his lips on yours, so you’re back in a messy kiss in a split second. “I’ve been wanting to tear this dress off you all night.” He mumbles against your lips, slowly making his way down your jaw and onto your neck. 

“You should’ve just done that.” You run your fingers through his hair as you lean your head back, giving him more space to run his lips over your neck. One of his hands runs in your hair, grabbing the back, holding you in place before feeling his breath on your ear.

“Careful,” His deep voice is next to your ear, and you can practically hear him smirking. “Don’t get cocky with me now.” 

Just when he’s about to kiss you again, he pulls back and looks deeply into your eyes. You realize the look in his eyes has changed a bit, as he tries to read your face.

“What?” You ask confused. Is he regretting this? Is this a bad idea? Does he not want to do this?

His breathing is ragged, but he holds eye contact for a few more seconds before speaking. 

“If it gets too much.. If you want me to stop, please let me know, okay? Because I don’t think I can hold back from you once you let me do this.” His touch on you is now softer than before.

You can’t help but crack a smile at the way he asks permission for this to happen, but there’s not a single part of you that doubts this. You want this. You want him.

And the thing is, he wants you too, if not more. Everything inside Yunho is exploding, and he can’t even believe he isn’t kissing you right now. If it stood to him, you were both naked at this point, but he wants you to be sure about this. He doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable or about to regret this, because you mean more to him than anyone has ever done. 

Your hands grab his head as you pull him into a softer kiss. A promising kiss. A kiss that tells him that you’re sure about this. His hands grab the counter, fighting himself not to go too crazy. 

“I want you, Yunho.” You look deeply into his eyes. “I trust you.” The words change something in Yunho’s eyes, and he takes a quick deep breath before crashing his lips onto yours again.  

His hands quickly find your body, traveling around your waist and up and down your thighs, getting used to the touch of you under his control. Your fingers run through his hair, but you instantly grab a hold of his locks when you feel his fingers press against your clothed pussy. The touch of his fingers alone is enough to make you moan, and he’s taking his time running the tip of three fingers up and down your core, sending shock waves through your body.

“You’re dripping wet.. Is this what you thought about when looking at my hands all night?” He asks. You can’t even get out any words, so you just nod eagerly. Another scoff leaves Yunho’s mouth and suddenly the feeling of his touch disappears. “Lay down.” 

You’re listening to his commands like a dog to their owner, and your back leans down on the cold counter. You feel his hands run from your thighs to your hips where he’s grabbing your panties to pull them down. Air hits your core, and suddenly you hear a deep chuckle coming from Yunho. 

“Of course..” He says to himself. 

"What?" You ask nervously.

“Of course, you have such a pretty pussy. You really don’t have any flaws, do you?”

He pushes your legs apart before digging in, tugging you forward a bit so he has easier access. You look down at him to see his tongue immediately find its way through your slit. All nervousness leaves your body as he starts tasting you. He lets out a satisfied groan when he starts sucking your clit, and he looks absolutely amazing from your point of view, in his relaxed clothes and slightly messy hair. 

 “And you taste fucking amazing,” His words are muffled, almost not daring to remove his mouth as he leaves his tongue everywhere on your pussy, wanting to taste as much of you as possible. He’s eating you out like it is his last meal on earth, and a moan escapes your mouth. 

The straps from your dress hang loosely off your shoulders, exposing just the right amount of your breast, to leave little to no imagination. Yunho is quick to run one of his hands up your stomach to pull the dress down and grab one of your tits. You close your eyes, only to widen them quickly when you feel him insert one of his long fingers inside you. He smirks a little as he looks up at you, seeing how you react to his touches. 

“This fucking dress.. and you don’t even wear a bra under it,” He’s squeezing your tit, slightly pinching your nipple. “You’re so fucking hot.”

You start to feel incredibly sensitive and start closing your legs, but Yunho is quick to let go of your breast and push your legs apart, before devouring your pussy again, while his long finger works in and out of you. 

“Oh, we’re just getting started, sweetheart,” he says, loving the sounds coming from you as you try to keep yourself from screaming in pleasure. “Ready for another one?” He adds another finger to your hole and a gasp escapes through your lips. His long fingers work their way with your pussy and when his lips wrap around your clit, you feel a spark running through your entire body. 

His lips remove themself from your cunt and he pulls you up, still with his fingers deep inside you, and he smashes his lips hard against yours, so you’re able to taste yourself on his lips and tongue. 

“Please, Yunho..” you barely got the words out, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep you up. 

“Tell me what you want,” he grumbles next to your ear as he continues to work his fingers in and out of you, making sure to have his knuckles pressed hard against your heat every time his fingers go in. 

“I want.. I want you to fuck me.” 

A smirk appears on his lips, finally hearing the words he’d been dreaming of for longer than he imagined. But he wasn’t ready. You weren’t ready.

“You’re so cute. But you’re not ready to take me yet, sweetheart.” 

You slightly pull back to look into his eyes, but when you see the look in his eyes and feel the pressure from another finger being added to your hole, you know that he wasn’t playing around. He has a massive cock, and you are going to be filled. He was preparing you. His free hand pushes your legs further apart and presses your abdomen down on the counter to keep you from moving too much. Your eyes roll back as you use your hands to keep you from lying down, steadying you. 

“Oh my God..” your words are mumbles at this point, and with the speed of his three fingers going in and out, you know you aren’t going to last much longer. “Yunho, I’m going to come.”

As if something switches inside of him, he quickly bends down and starts to eat you out while his fingers work inside you. The feeling of being filled by his long, thin fingers and his tongue sucking on your nub was a feeling you never felt before, and it didn’t take you long to start feeling your orgasm spread through your entire body. Your legs start to shake and you feel yourself crumble under his touch, eyes rolling back and feeling sensitive to every touch he leaves on you.

“So fucking delicious,” The noise of him slurping your juices filled the entire kitchen, “All sensitive and shaky already,” He stood up and pulled you closer to him, pushing some hair behind your ear in a caring manner. “And you don’t even know whats yet to come.. How adorable.” 

Your breathing is fast, not ever experiencing this kind of orgasm. Not even the expensive vibrators you’ve gathered over the years could do it like Yunho. And you wanted more of him.

His fingers left your hole and you looked at them to see them shining and soaked in your juices. He slowly raised his fingers to your mouth, and you sucked them clean. You felt messy, dirty, and sweaty, all thanks to your best friend who just gave you the best orgasm of your life. 

“Such a good little slut,” his eyes locked on your mouth as his fingers smeared across your lips, “My little slut.” His hand grabs the back of your head and presses your lips against his in a sloppy kiss. Another groan leaves his mouth and he slowly moves his lips down your jaw and onto your neck. 

His words send an intense rush through your body, and you never expected to be so turned on by being called a slut. But Yunho knows what he’s doing, he knows you well and you’re probably easy to read because you’re responding to his words by moaning when you feel him kiss your most sensitive spot on your neck. 

Your eyes caught the growing bulge in his gray sweatpants, looking more massive than anything you’ve ever seen. The urge to see it, feel it, taste it is everything on your mind, so you reach out your hand to touch it on top of his sweatpants. A deep groan is heard from the back of his throat as he continues to kiss your neck. 

“You feel that?” He asks, slowly wrapping his fingers around your throat. He looks down at you as you nod, still stroking the outside of his bulge. “You feel what you do to me?” His deep voice whispers in your ear. You wish you could give him the same amount of pleasure he just gave you. He’s standing between your legs, but you wish you could press your thighs together to cause any kind of friction between your legs, even after an intense orgasm. 

Just hearing him talk like this and seeing how big he is, even under his sweatpants, sends sparks through your entire body.

“Let me take care of you too.” You’re practically begging to touch him, feel him. Never have you been so eager to move quicker, but Yunho has you under a spell, and he knows it because a satisfied smile spreads across his lips before he presses his lips on yours. This time was much softer than the other times, starting as a slow kiss and slowly deepening. The hand from your neck moves to your cheeks to deepen it even more, and the warm feeling inside you grows even bigger. 

“Not here, sweetheart.. My first time fucking you won’t be in a kitchen.” His words were so vulgar, but his eyes were full of care and trust. And you don’t trust anyone as much as you trust Yunho, so you nod and he wraps your legs around his waist as he kisses you again. 

Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you feel him remove you from the kitchen island and carry you to your bedroom, still with his lips pressed against yours. Having him basically living with you, seemed to show because he knew the way to the bedroom with his eyes closed and you wrapped around him. 

The soft touch of your madrass was under you as Yunho threw you on the bed and climbed on top of you, never separating your lips. 

“If I knew your lips were this addicting, I would’ve kissed you a long time ago,” he gives you a final deep kiss before standing up beside the bed. “And as much as I love this dress on you, I need you to take it off. Now.” 

You don’t waste a second getting out of the dress, and since you don’t wear a bra under the dress, and Yunho already took off your panties in the kitchen, you are already left naked. Yunho lifts his black t-shirt over his head, throws it on a chair, and is left in the gray sweatpants that still have a big bulge showing. His back muscles tenses as he moves, making him even hotter by the second. He turns around to see you sitting naked on the bed on your knees, hands placed nicely on your thighs, waiting for his instructions. 

A smile spreads on his lips as he runs his eyes over your body, walking closer to you. 

“Look at you.. Beautiful and waiting for me to tell you what to do. You like that?” His hand runs through your hair, sending shivers down your spine. “You like when I call you names? Like sweetheart? or slut?” 

You nod while looking up at him with doe eyes.

His hand grabbed your hair from the back and pulled it down, causing you to look up at him straight. “Use your words.” He demands, looking straight down at you.

“Yes, I love it.” Your answer and a satisfied smile spread on his lips. 

“That’s right, baby.” 

Baby. Once again, his words make you wetter at your heat, so you press your thighs together even more to cause any kind of friction. 

"Now..Before I fuck you,” he lets go of your hair and lightly cubs your cheek. “You’re gonna have to suck my cock. Is that okay, sweetheart?” his tall body towered over you sitting on the bed. His thumb caressed your cheek, letting you know that you’re safe with him and he’d never do anything you wouldn't want. 

You lean into his hand and place a kiss in his palm, before looking up at him to nod. 

“I’d like that.” 

He bends down to kiss you before giving you the next demand. He straightens and you look down to see his massive bulge in the sweatpants, practically fighting to be free. 

“You were so eager to touch it before, so do it.. now.” His voice is stern, and you didn’t hesitate to pull down the sweatpants and his boxers to see his cock spring free. 

His cock is the biggest you’ve ever seen, rock hard and flat against his stomach. Not only is it incredibly long, but also thick. The veins running up and down his shaft are pumping and the tip is glistening with pre-cum. His hand wrapped around it to give it a few strokes, and all you could think about was how that ever was going to fit inside you.

“You alright, sweetheart?” His words make you look into his eyes instead, and a smirk appears when he sees your reaction to his cock. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it fit. Do you trust me?” 

Instead of answering him, you slowly reach out to grab his girth in your hand, feeling how hard and warm he is under your touch. A small gasp escapes through his lips when you start pumping his cock slowly.

The way he’s looking down at you shows so much dominance and power, but he’s still running his hands through your hair and trying to show you as much care as possible, even when having these roles. Keeping that in mind, all of your small concerns go out the window, and you feel a new confidence take over your body, as you feel ecstatic over the idea of sucking his cock the way you have always wanted to.

“Spit.” He demands and it doesn’t take you long to spit on his cock and move your lips to the head, leaking pre-cum. Your hand is pumping his girth while you run your lips over the head of his cock, mixing spit with pre-cum. Given everything Yunho has been doing and saying to you so far, you’re convinced that he’s into the same shit as you, so you decide to go all out. You spit even more on the head of his cock, before trying to take him in your mouth. 

“Holy fuck,” his breathing changes and he makes a small noise from the back of his throat. 

You start to drool on his cock, trying to take as much of him in your mouth as possible. Your lips are stretched all the way, and you’re doubting that you’re able to take all of him, but you’re willing to try.

“Look up at me,” You look up at his command while bobbing your head, feeling pre-cum and spit fall on your chest. “You’re so fucking perfect, you know that?” 

His words make you want to do even better for him, so you try to take even more of his cock into your mouth. You almost make it to the beginning of his shaft, but feel a gagging sensation take over you, but you try to fight it. Tears form in your eyes as you try to breathe through your nose.

Yunho groans then, “Fuck, baby,” he sounds strained. “All these years I spent with you, I didn’t think you were such a cock slut.” 

You finally pull back from him to breathe, feeling spit and pre-come everywhere. In your mouth, on his cock, on your tits, on your hand. It’s messy. After catching your breath, you decide to continue sucking him, and you feel one of his hands rest lightly on the back of your head as he pushes his dick back into your mouth. 

Another groan leaves him as he starts pumping his cock in and out of your mouth. The noises coming from you slurping mix with his ragged breathing. You feel him wrap his hand around a few strands of your hair, helping you bop your head at a comfortable speed. A series of small groans leave him, and his breathing gets faster before he quickly takes a step back.

“Baby.. Hold up,” he pulls his cock out of your mouth and you notice how red the head of his cock is. It’s throbbing and basically begging to come. You wipe the sides of your mouth with the back of your hand to remove the mess you’ve made.

“Was it okay?” You ask, a little confused why he didn’t just come in your mouth. 

He is almost letting out a chuckle as he leans down to kiss your lips. 

“It was.. Out of this world” He caresses your cheek with his thumb and says; “I just want to be inside of you when I come.” He lifts you on your knees, so he can hold you closer. His lips crash against yours, letting him taste himself on his tongue, but he doesn’t mind it. Especially when it comes from your mouth. 

He pulls back and holds your waist with one hand, while he cups the other one right by your mouth.

“Spit.” He instructs again.

You do as he says, still tasting his pre-cum in your mouth when you spit in his hand. He smirks when his hand drops to your pussy and rubs your spit in between your folds. A gasp leaves your mouth at the feeling of his fingers running through your folds, and you quickly need him to give you another orgasm, asap. 

As if he knows exactly what you're thinking, he turns you around and pushes you down on the bed, so you land on your front. You’re surprised by his manhandling, but when you feel him bring your ass up in the air to smack it, you’re running with it. 

You’ve never had sex with someone where you didn’t have to tell them what to do or what you liked. But Yunho knew exactly how to please you. It was almost like he knew you better than you knew yourself. 

You feel him plant kisses, bites, hickeys, and smacks on your cheeks, leaving you with a stream of moans and gasps. 

“You’re mine from now on, you understand?” He smacks one of your cheeks and kisses it right after. “I’m going to leave marks on you, so if anyone ever tries something, they will see who you belong to. Got it?” 

His.

The sound of him calling you his was something you only imagined would happen, and never did you think it would feel so good to hear. 

Yunho pulled you out of your thoughts and turned you around, facing up, before he crawled onto the bed and on top of you. You felt his dick press against your pussy as he steadied himself over you.

“I said; Got it?” He asked, and you nodded before quickly responding.

“Got it.” 

“Good girl.” He positioned himself better between your legs, and you could already feel the excitement of him inside of you. “If you want me to go slower or stop, let me know.” Yunho grips his cock in his hand, stroking it a few times before rubbing the tip between your folds. Your hands are on the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. The feeling of his huge cock pressed against your entrance is making you impatient, but when you feel him slowly enter your hole, you’re thankful that he’s taking it slow. 

You wrap your legs around his waist as you feel him stretch you out, and with the help of your spit and your wetness, he slides in a little easier. But you would lie if you said you’ve tried anyone bigger than Yunho. 

“Fuck, you’re tight” He grunts, slowly filling you up more and more. 

It doesn’t take you long to feel full of him. He groans whenever you clench around his cock, taking it as a sign for him to go slower. He’s already going pretty slow, but he would never pressure you. He knew he had a large cock, so it was important for him to make sure you felt good, first of all. 

He stops and you let out the breath of air you didn’t know you held in, feeling his length and trying to accommodate how thick he is.

“You’re taking me so well, baby, but you can take more.” He looks down at you and takes your hand in his, pinning them down next to your head. Yunho lowers down to plant a kiss on your forehead, and you close your eyes, ready for him to continue. 

“I need you to relax for me, baby.” He instructs and you do as he said. Even when you thought you couldn’t fit more of him, he filled you up even more. “That’s right.” His way of switching from calling you “slut” to calling you baby, making you feel cared about, almost loved, was everything you needed. Your hands clench in his, almost scared you will hurt him with the way your nails are digging into the back of his hand.

With a final push, you feel his hips against yours, and a gasp leaves your mouth. You can’t even imagine if he had tried entering you without warming you up with his fingers and getting you so wet first. Never have you been so full, your eyes rolling back at him hitting your spot without nearly doing anything, almost making you cry in pleasure.

“There,” He says, looking down at you. You let go of his hands and pull him down for another kiss. “You’re okay?” 

Instead of answering, you press your heels into his back to make him move and feel if he could enter you a bit more - He could. A smirk appears on his lips and he lets out a groan when you feel him clench around him.

“You’re ready to be fucked like the little slut you are?” You feel him slowly pull out, before pushing inside of you again, trying to make you get used to his size. You couldn’t believe he was fitting inside you. “Has anyone ever fucked you like you wanted? Or have you just been waiting for me?” He smirks as he looks down at you. He leans down, bringing his hands under you to hold you tight and whisper closer to your ear. “I bet you’ve been fantasizing about getting pinned down and fucked for years, haven’t you?”

“Y-Yes.” You manage to say as his speed quickens, and you feel him more and more - even though you didn’t think that was possible. “I’ve been waiting.. for you.”

“You feel so fucking perfect around my cock, don’t you think?” His pace is getting faster and faster, and you can barely get any words out at this point. “You were made for me.”

“Don’t stop, Yunho, please!” You beg, biting down on his shoulder. You feel his breath on your neck, his arms holding you tighter as he continues to fuck you.

“Never,” You hear his smile, and he grabs your waist to turn you both around. Suddenly riding him, sitting on top of his cock makes you feel him deeper than before, and a muffled scream leaves your mouth. The feelings send a shockwave through your body, and you feel yourself fall forward on top of him. He takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, locking your arms behind your back as he holds you tight against him. 

He can not get deeper in your pussy, so he takes the opportunity to ram his cock deep inside you. He lifts his hips as he’s slamming his cock into your cunt at a fast speed, and the sounds of skin slapping against each other fill the entire house. 

Quickly you feel another orgasm approach, never experiencing an orgasm without having to stimulate your clit. But Yunho is so deep inside of you and rails you so quickly, that it isn’t necessary, “Yunho, please!” 

“Your moans are so beautiful, let everyone hear how good I fuck you,” His one hand holds both of yours behind your back, as he uses the other to hold your head close to his ear. “You’re only gonna take my cock from now on, understand?” His grab on you tightens as he fucks you faster. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum.” 

“Come inside me, please!” You cry out, barely even being able to speak as your mind whitens. He buries his face in your neck while ramming his cock into you at a fast pace. He hits the right spot every time, making your moans consistent. His hard grasp on you somehow makes you feel like you can let go of everything and make him do whatever he wants with you. So when you feel your orgasm approach, you don’t do anything to hold it back. Yunho feels you clench around his dick as you climax, sending him over the edge as well. 

His deep groans hum in your ear as you feel him empty his balls inside you. “Fuck, baby..” 

You feel his warm load spill into you while he holds you tight on top of him, making you take all of it. You feel your heart pumping in your entire body, ragged breaths coming from you as you relax on top of him, and his tight, domestic hold on you becomes a soft and affectionate hug. 

Yunho still being inside you, you seem to find it relaxing laying on top of him in his arms. And if Yunho could, he would stop time and lay here with you for just a little more. As your eyes are closed, you feel him run his fingers through your hair and down your back. One thing you didn’t expect when going on a date today, was ending up having your best friend fuck your brains out till you forgot how to speak. But this somehow felt so right. 

“Are you alright?” His soft voice asks, still with a few gasps left in his voice.

“Uh-huh.” You slightly nod as you open your eyes to see a blur, barely able to use any words. 

“We need to get you cleaned up..” Yunho gently pulls out of you and you collapse on the bed next to him. The last thing you wanted was to stand up and clean yourself, so you just shook your head and closed your eyes again. 

“Soon.. I’m so tired though..” You excuse, still in a haze from the orgasm. You feel Yunho’s hand run through your hair, and the way he’s slowly massaging your scalp, makes your eyes feel even heavier.

“Wait here then.” You hear him say and soon the bed feels empty without him. A few moments later, you hear him enter back in the bedroom and a wet cloth runs over your skin. You’re slowly waking up to feel his hands softly on you, and you look down at him, and your heart flutters at your best friend sitting on the bed next to you. He’s so focused on cleaning you, removing all the dried spit and cum from your chest, stomach and thighs. 

His touch is soft, especially when he slightly parts your legs to clean the most sensitive area, and when he accidentally graces your most sensitive spot, a small moan escapes through your lips. You still feel an incredible sensation around your lower region, so when he quickly looks up at your face to see you’re okay, he tries his best to hide his smile, feeling proud he left you a moaning mess a few minutes ago.

“Sorry..” He whispers as he continues to clean up, making sure to be extra careful. 

The wet cloth is doing its job, and you’re free from any fluid on your body. Your eyes are closed again and you suddenly feel the bed getting heavier next to you. You feel the duvet cover you and an arm wrap around your body to pull you into Yunho’s chest. Your back is flat against his front, and with the warmth of his body, you’ve never felt more safe. 

Slowly drifting off to sleep, you manage to hear a few words before you’re completely out.

“Goodnight, my love.” 

***

The light shines bright in the bedroom, making it hard to see anything when you open your eyes. Everything is a blur, but when you reach out your arm to feel nothing but an empty bed, you’re quickly rubbing your eyes to see clearly. 

There’s a bend in the pillow where Yunho slept, but no Yunho in sight. You pull up the duvet to cover your naked body when you sit up to get a better view of the bedroom. There’s no sound of anyone in your house, and the feeling of slight panic rumbles your stomach.

Did he leave? Did he regret what happened between you and wouldn’t want to see you again?

Just as thoughts start to flood your mind, the bedroom door opens and Yunho enters, tip-toeing into the room, just wearing his gray sweatpants. When he sees you sitting up, panic immediately shows on his face. “Oh shit, sorry, did I wake you?” 

“No no, I was just confused about where you went.” You shake your head, suddenly relaxed to see him this morning.

A smile spreads on his lips and he makes his way to you on the bed. “I’m right here, baby.” He crawls on top and hovers over you before leaning down to kiss your lips. It’s a reassuring kiss that tells you he wouldn’t ever just leave like that. He pulls back after a moment and looks down at you with a soft smile on his face. "Good morning." 

"Good morning." You smile back, not at all used to waking up like this, but you’re not at all mad about it. “So.. Do you usually stay the night after a first date?” You shyly ask while he looks down at you.

“Usually not.” He shrugs with a smirk. “What about you? Do you usually have your first date sleeping over?” 

“Usually not.”

He nods slowly "Interesting.." He bites his lip to hide his smile, but the smile slowly falls off his face and gets replaced by a wrinkle between his brows. He gets quiet, and you wonder what suddenly went through his mind. “I need to tell you something..” 

Your heart suddenly starts pounding, concerned about what he’s going to say. Yunho takes a deep breath, still holding himself up by his arms on each side of your head.

“Look, yesterday was something new for both of us, and we both know how when you’re.. having sex, you feel a lot of emotions, and sometimes blurt out something without actually meaning what you’re saying..” The nervousness is evident in his voice. “I just need you to know that.. the things I said yesterday.. I meant it.” 

You’re completely quiet, just now trying to figure out exactly what he’s talking about.

“I meant when I said I want you to.. be mine. And when I said you're beautiful. And, yeah, I don’t know, I’m just not sure I can go back to being best friends with you, because what we did yesterday.. best friends don’t do that.” The look in his eyes is hard to describe, but there’s a hint of hope. Hope that you perhaps feel the same as him. “I guess I’m trying to say; how about we continue what we started?” 

Voice lowering down to a whisper, he stares down at you with such an expression you want to wrap your arms around him and hug him. The dominating guy he was last night is completely switched to the most precious and small man.

You can’t help but let out a giggle, finding this entire situation cute. “I’d love that.” 

The wrinkle between his brows immediately disappears and he releases a breath he didn’t know he held. 

“Yeah?” He asks with a huge smile on his face.

“Yeah.” You nod.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Fireworks are exploding in both of you as he leans down and kisses you with such intensity, he wants to fill out all the space that separates you from him. He wants you as close as possible, and he’s sure he’s never going to get tired of hearing you giggle.

Moving his lips against yours, you never imagined how right this would feel. He pulls away, but only to lay down next to you and pull you towards him. Placing your head on his chest, he wraps both of his arms around you to hold you close. The feeling of safety and warmth is burning from every cell of you, and you never want to feel this with anyone else but Yunho.

Yunho kisses the top of your head occasionally as you both lay there, just enjoying the silence and each other’s company. But you can’t help but say what's on your mind.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I have to start getting ready.” You say, and he immediately tightens his grab around you.

“Five more minutes, then I’ll let you go.” He mumbles against your head.

Sigh.. “But I have to shower.”

He’s quiet for a short moment before looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “Shower?” He asks like he has something on his mind. You nod and he looks away shyly before getting the courage to say what he’s thinking. “I mean.. Since we’ve decided to upgrade our friendship to dating, I guess it wouldn’t be weird to.. you know.. shower together?”

Butterflies take over your entire body, and you try your best to hide your smile. Yunho and you don’t have anything to hide from each other anymore, so a shower would be innocent compared to what you two did last night. You look up to meet his eyes, slightly shrugging. “I guess you’re right.”

Just when you thought his smile couldn’t get bigger, his eyes wrinkled from the smile and he gets all energetic like a puppy you just offered to take on a walk.

“You wanna take a shower with me?” He asks, making sure.

“Sure.” You downplay how badly you actually want to do this. You want to do everything with Yunho, because the two of you just opened so many doors of possibilities, and you can’t wait to share every moment with him.

A giggle leaves his mouth and he kisses you passionately. “I’ll go get it ready for us.” The smile does not leave Yunho’s mouth as he pulls his t-shirt over his head, and he finds your robe in your dresser. He’s running around the room, getting stuff ready to bring to the bathroom, smiling and giggling nonstop.

“What?” You can’t help but ask.

His eyes dart to you before he runs over to kiss you one last time before heading to the bathroom to prepare the shower for the two of you.

“I'm just so happy”

[khaylin27]

The Alchemy

pairing: oscar piastri x norris reader; lando norris x sister reader; talks about carlos sainz x norris reader (past relationship)

series: the tortured poets department

synopsis: the alchemy is a term coined in the old days before chemist but back then the aim was to produce gold from other elements by mixing certain chemicals. knowing that she is now with the man of her dreams; she came out of the dark in which she has stayed in for a very long time and found the person in which there was 'no denying the alchemy' that if they were together, there's gold, which to her means love.

warnings: literally none because it's all fluff

author's note: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT YOU'VE GIVEN THIS SERIES 🥹😭🩶 also i had a different collage for this but i didn't like it so here's a new one

This happens once every few lifetimes These chemicals hit me like white wine

Marriage happens every few lifetimes, but not for you. You once thought you were going to marry Carlos. Looking back now, you're extremely grateful that you didn't marry Carlos last year. The 'chemicals' of love that you had with Carlos had an intoxicating effect similar to white wine.

I circled you on a map I haven't come around in so long But I'm coming back so strong

After the Australian Grand Prix, you and Oscar decided to spontaneously get married here since all of the important people in your life are here in his home country. The wedding ceremony was being held at the beach that Oscar's parents had private access to.

As you're walking down the aisle with your father, you start tearing up seeing Oscar wait for you at the alter. Everything you've always wanted is finally happening.

Once you reach the alter, your father gives your hand to Oscar. "Take care of my daughter." Your father smiles as tears form in his eyes.

"Forever and always." Oscar says to your father and takes your hand from him. Oscar walks you up the alter and you both look at Zak. Zak was officiating the wedding ceremony.

"The bride and groom have decided to say their vows to each other." Zak looks at you telling you to go first.

"Oscar Jack Piastri. I can't believe we're getting married after 4 months of knowing each other." You smile in disbelief that you're actually getting married. "I remember when we first met, we had a shot of tequila together cheering to new beginnings for both of us. That night Lando ended up wasted while I was a little bit tipsy. You drove us back to our hotel on an empty Las Vegas Strip. The song 'Downtown Lights' by the Blue Nile started playing in your McLaren and we found that we both loved this song. We sang it loudly while Lando was passed out drunk in the back seat. I didn't know it at that time but it was going to be alright because I found the love of my life." Oscar wipes the tears falling from his face while you continue to speak.

"That week was the first time coming back to the paddock in so long. I remember breaking down in Lando's room because of something an ex said about my papaya family and I. You were so worried about me even though our relationship was barely building. I remember you told me 'it's time to crack these locks from him and start throwing rocks at that past relationship.' After that night I circled you on the map of my heart and came back so strong." You finish your set of vows and the Oscar speaks his.

Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

"Y/N Marie Norris. If you're shocked that we're getting married after 4 months of knowing each other. Well honey, I'll do you one better. I'm surprised I'm marrying a MILF." Everyone including you two laughed at the joke Oscar made about you being older. "But in all seriousness, I'm so happy I'm getting to marry you. I remember when you told me that night in Abu Dhabi that you loved me. I was the happiest man alive because I started to love you too." Tears start dripping from your face as you recall the night in Abu Dhabi.

"I know you have been through the slammer in your past relationship, but the universe knew your heart was always reserved for me. There was no reason to fight to alchemy because you're the one for me."

Once Oscar finishes his vows, Zak continues with the ceremony. You two put your rings on each other and Zake announces you two as Mr. and Mrs. Piastri.

yourinstagram thank you to the man that dumped me, i found the man the universe reserved for me 💍🤍✨

oscarpiastri i love my milf wife 😏

yourinstagram LOVE, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO GET ME PREGNANT BEFORE YOU CALL ME THAT landonorris you're basically a milf @/yourinstagram yourinstagram i'm only 26 😭 landonorris you're basically 30 at this point sister, you can't deny it. please give me a niece/nephew soon 🙏 leo can't be my only nephew, he needs a cousin charlesleclerc i agree with this. @/yourinstagram @/oscarpiastri please have a child soon so leo can have a play mate. alexandrasaintmleux preferably a human one so i can convince charles to give me one too @/yourinstagram @/oscarpiastri oscarpiastri i'll start working on it soon 🫡

user1 OSCAR'S COMMENT IS SO UNHINGE I LOVE IT HAHAHA

user2 i love that lando is playing along with it too HAHAHA they were always meant to be family 🥹 user3 i love that alexandra and charles are playing along too user4 maybe baby piastri might be coming soon 👀

oscarpiastri honestly, who are we to fight to alchemy? mr. and mrs. piastri 💍

yourinstagram the love of my life 🥺🤍✨

liked by author

logansargeant so glad you found the girl of your american dreams

liked by author and yourinstagram

landonorris STOP RUBBING OFF ON MY MAN HE'S AUSTRALIAN yourinstagram excuse me @/landonorris he's legally mine now step aside

zbrownceo congrats @/yourinstagram and @/oscarpiastri 💍🧡

liked by author and yourinstagram

yourinstagram thank you zak for officiating the wedding. this wouldn't have happened without you 🥹

mclaren the papayas are now married 🥹🧡 congrats @/yourinstagram and @/oscarpiastri 💍 now we need papaya babies

racerbia please we need a papaya baby around the paddock @/yourinstagram and @/oscarpiastri 🥹👶🧡 yourinstagram we're working on it @/mclaren @/racerbia 🫡 user1 BABY PAPAYA IS IN THE WORKS!!!

f1news A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN: After 4 months of knowing each other, Oscar Piastri and Y/N Norris, Piastri's teammate's sister, decided to tie the knot. This is definitely better than the disaster of a wedding Norris had with Ferrari driver, Carlos Sainz.

Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Piastri!

user1 the way she went from thinking she lost the love of her life to then finding the love of her life on the team where she truly belonged at 🥹🧡

user2 CARLOS BETTER BE CRYING AT WHAT COULD'VE BEEN

user3 papaya love 🥺🧡

****

I haven't come around in so long But I'm making a comeback to where I belong

After your wedding and honeymoon, you shortly found out that you were 10 weeks pregnant. You didn't notice you were pregnant at first with all the traveling you do until you took a break on your honeymoon. At the end of the trip, you felt like you had a stomach bug but it wasn't. When you went to the doctor to check what was wrong, she calmed you down by telling you that you were pregnant.

You've never seen Oscar so happy in your life other than your wedding day; you were shock on the other hand. At the doctor visit you asked your doctor when she thought the baby was conceived and she said January 22. That was the night when you made love for the first time.

"I still can't believe I'm pregnant," you exclaim as you two were relaxing on the couch. Oscar puts his hands on your stomach and starts rubbing it. "I don't think I can go to the races anymore."

"I know honey, it's okay." Oscar kisses your lips softly. "I know you'll support your favorite guys no matter what."

"Actually you're my favorite, Lando is ..." As you were about to continue you started to remember the comment Lando put on your wedding post. "Lando is going to be so happy that he's getting a niece or nephew soon."

"I understood the assignment Lando, Charles, and Alexandra told me to do." You laugh together recalling how they all wanted you two to start having a child as soon as possible.

****

For your 27th birthday, you decided to celebrate in Miami where Lando and Oscar were racing at. Even though Oscar wasn't on the podium that day, you were so happy for Lando. Finally Lando got his first ever win in F1.

Once Lando got away from the crowd and back into his private room in the garage, you decided to congratulate him. "Congrats little bro. It's been a long time coming." You hug Lando tightly but then he pulls away feeling your 15 week baby bump.

"Y/N are you pregnant?" Lando asks still on his high of happiness, you nod yes and Lando gets more excited. "YES THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!"

"That's why she hasn't been coming to the races because we wanna make sure the baby is safe." Oscar explains to a very happy Lando.

"My doctor finally approved me to travel to certain countries. I'm making a comeback to where I belong." You smile as Lando hugs you one more time.

****

The next race you went to was Emilia Romagna Grand Prix, you were currently 18 weeks pregnant. You decided to stay in Oscar's private room since you wanted to ditch the crowds.

Once the race was over and the crowds went home, Oscar, Lando, and Charles with Alexandra came into Oscar's private room to see you. You had messaged Alexandra earlier telling her you wanted to catch up with her and meet baby Leo.

"Hey Y/N ..." Alexandra stops talking after seeing your growing baby bump. "OH MY GOD YOU'RE PREGNANT!!!" Charles finally comes in with baby Leo in his hands.

"You understood the assignment." Charles smiles at Oscar and gives him a side hug. "Congrats my friend."

Your celebration of happiness was interrupted by a Spanish man knocking on your door, "Lando where are you?"

Lando opens the door wide to let the Spanish driver in, "What's up Carlos?"

"I just wanted to congratulate you on getting 2nd. It was one hell of a fight." He smiles at Lando until he looks around and is confused what's going on. "Why are you guys here?" Asking Charles and Alexandra.

Alexandra, happy for your bundle of joy says, "Y/N is pregnant. Isn't it exciting?"

"It is," you smile at Carlos with your pregnancy glow radiating off you. "Oscar was so excited when we found out we were going to have a baby girl. As soon as we told Lando about the gender, him and Oscar were online shopping on the couch together." You look back at Alexandra telling her about your pregnancy.

"My niece needs to have the best of the best. Oscar and I were looking at the McLaren merch to see if the factory can make baby versions of it." Carlos didn't care what Lando was saying because all of his attention was on you. Oscar's hands were wrapped around you and your midsection. "Carlos are you listening?"

"Yeah," Carlos coughs. "Congrats on your pregnancy Y/N and Oscar." Carlos says and leaves the McLaren room.

Shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads Beer sticking to the floor Cheers chanted, cause they said There was no chance, trying to be The greatest in the league Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me

It was the end of the Monaco Grand Prix, Charles had won the race and Oscar was in second place. As soon as Oscar parked his car and ran out to you so he can hug and kiss. All cameras were on you two as this was the first time you were showing your baby bump to the public. Before Oscar went up to the podium, he kneeled down and kiss your baby bump.

The rest of the McLaren plus Lando, lifted Oscar away from you so that he can get to the podium. There Oscar and Charles got their trophies while you and Alexandra were smiling happily at them. Once the national anthems were played, the drivers got to spray each other with champagne.

There's no chance to be the greatest in league due to Max's dominance in F1, but you knew Oscar was on a high right now in life. From getting married, to soon having a baby girl, and now getting his first podium of the season. Life was just beautiful.

These blokes warm the benches We been on a winning streak He jokes that it's heroin but this time with an "E"

Once Charles was done with his post race interview, the interviewer starts talking to Oscar. "Congrats Oscar on your first podium of the season and becoming a father soon. It's amazing how these two happened weeks apart."

"Thank you for the congratulations. From getting married at my home country, to finding out we'll be having a baby girl, to now getting my first podium of the season. I'm truly on a high with life right now." Oscar smiles at the camera knowing that you're watching the post race interview with Lando.

"Right now McLaren is in 3rd place for constructor's standings compared to last year's standings at 6th place. Tell me what you and Lando are doing for the team." The interviewer asks.

"Well Lando has been on a winning streak getting podiums after China but to be honest we're not doing anything different. It's all my wife's doing. I joke with her that she's like heroin but this time with an 'E' at the end." Everyone except for Carlos in the room laughs at Oscar's little joke.

"And soon you're going to be having a baby girl." Charles adds to the conversation. "You'll have two lucky charms on track." They both smile at the interviewer before they move on to Carlos' interview.

This happens once every few lifetimes

yourinstagram this happens once every few lifetimes 🌊 ✨

tagged oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri thank god for the alchemy or else our love would've never created this ✨

liked by author

taylorswift congrats mama can't wait to meet her

liked by author

user1 mother swift approves of oscar and y/n using the alchemy lyrics 🥹

user2 MOTHER IS ACTUALLY BECOMING A MOTHER AHHHHH

mclaren BABY PAPAYA COMING SOON 🥺👶🧡✨

liked by author

oscarpiastri baby papaya coming soon 🧡

tagged yourinstagram

mclaren baby papaya is already so loved by the mclaren family 🥺🧡

liked by author and yourinstagram

racerbia yay! i get to be a tita aunt to a little papaya 🧡

liked by author and yourinstagram

landonorris IM CALLING DIBS ON BEING THE GOD FATHER

yourinstagram i already picked a god father and it isnt you landonorris WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT ISN'T ME? charlesleclerc it's me and alex landonorris WHAT!! @/yourinstagram @/oscarpiastri say sike 😭 oscarpiastri she's messing around with you of course your the god father landonorris thank god 😅 charlesleclerc have another one already so i can be the god father to that one yourinstagram LET ME HAVE MY BABY FIRST

user1 not lando and charles fighting over who's gonna be the god father 🤣

user2 i love how they’re calling the baby "baby papaya" instead of "baby piastri" 🥺

f1news BABY PAPAYA COMING SOON: After Oscar's first podium of the season, the couple has announced that they are expecting their first bundle of joy weeks after getting married. The driver had made it know that Y/N Piastri, his wife and teammate's sister, was expecting after running to her before he went on the podium.

Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Piastri on your bundle of joy!

user1 OSCAR MOVING IN THE FAST LANE WHILE CARLOS IS GETTING HIS HEART PUNCTURED LIKE HIS TIRE 🤣

user2 wonder how carlos is feeling after seeing his ex fiance go from getting married to now being pregnant in a span of a few weeks

user3 who cares because he missed his shot of having this in his life

user4 did you see that carlos was about to cry while oscar was talking about y/n and the baby? 😭

tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb @c-losur3

[t-lostinworlds]

Big, Hormonal Heart | Bucky Barnes

》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x pregnant!female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship (marriage), fluff fluff fluff

》 SUMMARY: It'd probably take more than one lifetime for Bucky to list reasons why he was so lucky to call you his wife. He was certain your big heart was one of them. One that grew even more with pregnancy hormones. It was sweet, how you to got so upset when they got his order wrong. Your meal was perfectly fine. But when his wasn't? Oh it was a crime.

》 WARNINGS: pregnancy, a dog named Snow and Alpine the cat, pet names (doll, baby, my love, sweetheart), emotional!r (she cries. like, most of the fic), husband!bucky being the sweetest, domesticity and just overall fluff (pretty tame fic ngl)

》 WORD COUNT: 2.5k+

A/N: this idea was super random. i saw an insta reel of a pregnant woman having mood swings over some food and then everyone was sharing their experiences in the comments and i got inspired so here ya go alksalkss. DISCLAIMER! I'm not pregnant nor have i ever been lol. I did as much research as i could but still, don't count on me to be 100% accurate.

++ ALSO this was written in just a few hours. this isn't my best work. just something i wanted to write as an exercise since i haven't written anything in months. anyways, i hope you enjoy!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

If someone had told him years ago that he was going to live in a quaint home in the suburbs, a lovely backyard space for a dog and a cat to enjoy, and that he'd be married to the absolute love of life, an angel on earth who was now carrying his first child—

He honestly would've stared at them dead in the eye, wondering how someone could make such a cruel joke.

Yet here he was, actually living it, a life that seemed so much like a dream.

Though he was quickly reminded of how real this was as he stood in the nursery, glaring at the manual that came with the crib you two had bought from the furniture store.

It looked simple enough at first—putting together ready-made pieces should be easy, right?

Wrong.

Not when you have countless amounts of screws that more or less looked the same but were actually not because each served a different purpose. 

He was in the middle of figuring out how to install the legs to the main base when you walked into the room with your two bodyguards—Alpine the Cat and Snow the five-year-old Samoyed—in tow.

"How's it going, handsome?" you hummed as you reached his side, arms wrapping around his waist, your warmth immediately easing the frustration he had about this goddamn crib.

"It's…" he sighed, gesturing at the wooden pieces scattered around the floor. "Going."

You laughed at that, kissing his clothed shoulder before standing in front of him.

Bucky held your waist then, pulling you as close as he could given that your baby bump was in the middle of you both.

He honestly couldn't begin to express how much comfort and warmth covered his whole being every time he was met with the absolute love in your eyes.

And Bucky was sure his gaze shined the same.

So many people have pointed it out on numerous occasions, the twinkle in his eyes every time they land on you—his beautiful wife.

"I was thinking," you murmured, resting your hands on his chest, moving up his shoulder and down again in a sweet caress. "How about a quick break while we order some food?"

It was only about an hour after lunch, so Bucky wasn't particularly keen on filling his stomach some more.

But you, on the other hand, were nearing the end of your second trimester. It wasn't out of the norm for you to be hungry at this time, given you were eating for two. Plus, there was an added layer that your little peanut probably had some super soldier serum in their DNA—the baby's appetite could be enhanced for all he knew.

Other than that, the last thing Bucky wanted was an angry and hungry pregnant wife. So it wasn't really a hard decision to make.

"Okay, let's get you something to eat," he said.

Ever the observant person that you were, you quickly noticed his choice of words.

"For me?" you asked, brows furrowed. "You're not hungry?"

Bucky shook his head. "Not really."

Your bottom lip went.

He instantly knew he said the wrong thing.

"But I'm hungry," you murmured, eyes starting to glisten.

He could never explain it even if he tried, but whenever you got upset, your bodyguards always seemed to notice it. The two have always been protective of you and that only grew tenfold when you got pregnant.

Today wasn't an exception.

Snow barked at him, whining his complaints as he put his fifty-pound body between your legs, slightly pushing Bucky back. The furball was well trained though, so his protectiveness never went too far beyond being vocal about it. Alpine, on the other hand, was sitting a foot away, glaring at Bucky—quite the traitor given that she was supposed to be his cat, but he couldn't blame her for loving you, either—as if she knew it was his fault you were upset.

But still, Bucky wasn't quite sure what he'd done wrong.

"I know, sweetheart," he said slowly, a little confused, trying to navigate around Snow who was pawing at his leg as if trying to push him further away. "I'll order some food for you."

"But you're not hungry," you repeated, body slumping with sadness.

"I'm not," he agreed, quickly cupping your face when a tear slipped from your eyes. "But hey, hey, that doesn't mean we can't still order food for you, doll."

"No, I know," you sniffled.

"So, what's making you upset, hmm?"

You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath as you said,

"I don't want to eat alone."

Bucky paused, pressing his lips and swallowing down a laugh because he couldn't have you thinking he was making fun of you. He wasn't. But you were so adorable it made his chest ache.

"Okay, okay," he hummed, kissing the side of your head as he rubbed your back in comfort. "I'll order something for me, too."

•••

A few minutes later, your little family migrated to the living room. You both were sitting on the couch together, the two furballs sprawled at your feet as a random show played on TV. Various take-out bags covered the coffee table, way too many for two people but hey, that's what fridges and microwaves are for.

Fondness filled Bucky's bones as he watched you settle your food on your lap, doing what he called your Cravings Satisfied Wiggle.

He couldn't contain his chuckle.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, words a little muffled with your mouth full. "What?"

"Happy?" he asked, reaching over to wipe the sauce on the corner of your mouth.

"Very much," you giggled, eyes wrinkling at the corners.

Even after all these years, the sight of your pure joy still made his heart stutter, chest growing warmer when you leaned closer with a pout.

Bucky met you halfway for a short yet sweet kiss.

"Thank you," you hummed, even though there was no need for you to thank him for ordering you food.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

Reaching over the table, he took the one and only paper bag that was for him, because again, he wasn't that hungry.

"Oh."

"What's wrong?" You turned to him in concern.

"It's not a big deal," he reassured with a smile, shrugging because it really wasn't. "They got mine wrong."

You frowned. "You didn't get the nuggets?"

"No, they give me the burger meal," he said. "They must've misheard me.

Bucky immediately perked up when your lips started to tremble.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, cupping your face to wipe away your tears.

"You—" you sniffled. "You didn't get your nuggets."

Bucky pressed his lips to stop a smile.

God you were so fucking cute.

"It's okay, baby," he soothed. "I'm fine with a burger, too."

You cried even harder.

Snow and Alpine quickly stood, all alert and concerned as they nudged your leg.

"You wanted the nuggets, Bucky," you insisted, choking back a sob. "But you didn't get it."

He carefully pulled you closer, rubbing your back in comfort as you laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, but it's okay—"

"No, it's not!" you protested, all teary and frustrated, pulling away to glare at him. "You deserve to get what you want. Y-You deserve all the good things after e-everything."

Bucky might honestly start crying too with how sweet you were being.

"Oh doll, come here," he placated, pulling you in for a hug while trying to navigate the food on your lap.

He could take it away for safety, but he'd already learned his lesson the hard way. Taking food away from a pregnant woman was a death sentence.

"I want you to be happy," you sniffled, burying your face against his neck. "You wanted the nuggets and they disrespected that."

It took so much for him not to let out a chuckle. Because as much as Bucky hated to see you crying and upset, he couldn't deny how adorably funny this whole conversation was.

But you'd always had the biggest heart. Whether that was crying over those rescue animal videos, emotional scenes in movies, to feeling upset over something he was experiencing—your empathy was always high.

What more with the pregnancy hormones in the mix?

"How about I ask them to change it?"

Again, wrong thing to say.

He needed to get better at this.

"But they're probably so stressed and overworked already," you sobbed. "A-And it's about to rain. I don't want the delivery guy to get wet in the rain. T-They already don't get paid enough."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he hummed, rubbing your back. "Will you look at me, my love?"

You lifted your head then, Bucky's heart aching at the absolute distress on your features—pout in full play, eyes a little bloodshot with tear stains on your skin.

He cupped your cheeks with a soft smile, placing gentle kisses all over your face, unrelenting until you let out a whine of protest. He stopped then, thankful to see that you'd calmed down now.

"I promise you, the burger meal is perfectly fine with me. I'm not mad or upset about it. I don't mind it at all," he said.

You took a calming deep breath and nodded. It only took a second for you to look at him sheepishly.

"Sorry I overreacted," you whispered, embarrassed.

"Hey, none of that," he lightly scolded. "All the emotions you're feeling will always be valid."

You smiled, small yet sweet, leaning in and kissing him with as much gratitude as you could muster.

"Besides, it makes me feel so honored to know that you're willing to fight for my chicken nugget rights."

"Shut up, Barnes."

•••

You and Bucky always had a nightly routine and it usually consisted of the two of you getting ready for bed in your own different ways. They were intertwined, but not exactly the same. Like you'd be doing some skin care in the bathroom while he would be brushing his teeth.

But ever since you got pregnant, your routine became more in sync.

It usually started with a bath that he'd run for you. Most of the time he'd end up joining you, the length of said bath varying since that usually depended on what mood you were in. Bucky was always at the service of meeting his wife's needs, after all.

Recently, now that your bump wasn't particularly easy to navigate, he'd helped you get ready for bed. From getting dressed to your skin care, including rubbing some moisturizer on your stomach. That part was one of his favorite things to do.

Then it was the typical things, getting dressed, brushing your teeth—this one you stopped him from doing it for you even though he was more than willing—and overall just getting ready for bed.

Once you’d settled on the pregnancy pillow that Bucky fluffed up for you, he'd sit near the foot of the bed to give your sore feet a massage while you read a book.

Tonight, right when he was in the middle of doing that, he heard you sniffle.

Bucky looked up in concern, catching you already staring at him with tears already in your eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking you over. "Does something hurt?"

"No, I-I'm okay. I just—" You cut yourself off with a sob.

Bucky quickly moved beside you, pulling you onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your form. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, body shaking as you cried.

"Hey, hey, talk to me," he murmured against your hair. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's just—" You let out a shaky breath. "You're always taking care of me."

"Of course, sweetheart, you're my wife," he said. "And not only because it's my duty as your husband, but because I love you so much."

That made you cry even harder.

"I l-love you too, so much," you sobbed. "But I haven't been able to take care of you lately and that's not f-fair."

Bucky felt his heart grow as if it wasn't already bursting at the seams.

How could someone be so selfless and sweet?

"You're pregnant, my love," he stated the obvious reason as to why. "Besides, I'm capable of taking care of myself. It's alright."

"No, it's not," you argued, pulling away slightly to face him. "You deserve to be taken care of, too! You deserve to get pampered a-and a break but you're always fussing over me and taking care of me instead. I'm not helping with any of it. I'm just making it harder for you."

"No, absolutely not," he stated firmly, holding your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "I love taking care of you. It honestly makes me feel so fulfilled and happy when I do."

"Really?" you sniffled.

"Yes. It's the least I could do with everything that you've been going through right now," he said truthfully, adding with a chuckle, "Hell, if I could carry our baby so you wouldn't have to go through all the pain I would."

That earned him a small laugh.

"But I want to take care of you, too," you admitted after a deep breath.

"You already are," he hummed, thumb stroking your cheek lovingly. "You're taking care of our baby and my heart, and those are very important to me."

You scrunched up your nose adorably.

"That was so cheesy."

"But it's true, though."

You smiled, cupping his face. Bucky turned his head to kiss your palm.

"Thank you," you sighed fondly. "For putting up with me and for everything."

"First off, I'm not putting up with anything," he reassured, kissing your other palm before adding, "Second, you never have to thank me for taking care of you. Never."

You nodded, leaning closer to press your lips against his, pouring all your love and gratitude into it. Bucky kissed you back with the same fervor, never needing words to express what you truly feel for each other.

He felt so content—feeling your lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, and your little peanut asking for attention too, kicking the second Bucky rested hand on your bump.

When you let out a soft, needy whine, he was ready to take the kiss even further.

That was until a wet tongue met his cheek.

Bucky groaned in annoyance, pulling away to see Snow giving you a kiss, too. He couldn't be angry at the dog for ruining the moment when your lovely laugh echoed in the air. Alpine jumped on the bed a second later, nudging her head against Bucky's chin before walking over to place a loving paw on your bump.

His smile was as bright as it could be as he watched the scene before him.

A wonderful home, a wholesome family that involved his beautiful, loving wife and two furballs, his family that was only getting bigger in a few months—

Yeah.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ thank you for reading lovely! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated! ++ consider supporting me on ko-fi if you can!

✉ NO TAGLIST: go follow @t-lostinlibrary​​​​ and turn on notifications to get updated on my works!

© t-lostinworlds, 2023 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.

[takamiwife]

your first time with keigo

🔞 fairly nsfw post, mdni please and thank u! 🔞

💌 this is really just the ‘buildup’, if you guys want the actual smut for it please lmk! mwah mwah, love you all 💌

it had been about two weeks since you and keigo started seeing each other, and tonight, like the past few, you found yourselves lying in your bed, limbs tied together, hands running through hair and over clothes, sloppy kisses going from lips to neck, and just about everything but fucking

you had been completely fine with this. you didn’t want to rush anything of course, and it was honestly a refreshing change for a guy to not want to do that on the first date. but you were a woman with needs, and if nothing else, you had to at least make them known

so, during this wet-dream scene, you crawled atop his lap, straddling him. he moved his hands to your hips, grinding you down against him as he groaned

“keigo,” you pulled away, panting slightly. “i need you, badly”

he let out a mixture of a groan and a chuckle, a combination that was indescribably sexy to you

“fuck, baby, me too..” he smiled that charismatic smile of his, teeth brushing against the delicate skin of your neck

you grinned, moving to kiss and bite at his neck, bringing his clothes off along with your trail of soft kisses

you moved your hand to brush against his hardened cock in his pants, reaching for his belt, when you were interrupted

“y/n, y/n, i just.. i just.. um, need a second.” he stuttered out. immediately filled with concern, you raised your head back up, moving a hand to brush through his hair

“of course.. what’s wrong, are you alright? was it something i did?”

“something you did? are you serious? do you feel me right now?” he takes your hand with a smile as he places it over his cock, still trapped beneath his pants. “no, not at all. it’s…” he trails off

“what, are you all janky under there?” you raise an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood. he laughs, shaking his head

“no, just…” he had been thinking about how to say this for the past two weeks. he was a virgin. plain and simple. in keigos mind, this was a travesty. how pathetic was it that he, this supposed playboy, sex master, twenty-two year old man… a virgin? plain and simple, he was advised against just ‘sleeping around’ with people, which he didn’t mind, but he also never had the time nor desire to actually start dating anyone. until you, that is

still, he thought you’d think he was a complete loser, and though he debated about just ignoring it and going ahead, something in him told him he should tell you. and so he did

“i’m a- i haven’t done this before.” he said it so quickly, you could barely register

“you- ohhh, you’re a virgin?” you ask, relieved he didn’t have some incurable disease or had like, three dicks or something

“ah, yea.. is.. that a problem?” he asked nervously

“no, it’s great actually. this cult i’ve been checking out really needs a virgin sacrifice, so…” you sucked in air through your teeth before laughing. “keigo, why would that be a problem?”

“i-i don’t know,” he suddenly felt embarrassed that he spent so much time and energy debating on how to tell you such a minuscule thing. “guess i just thought you’d want someone.. more experienced? i-i guess im just.. i wont be.. good.”

and at this, you couldn’t help but laugh. “keigo!” you said, placing your hands on his shoulders. “i’ve met people who have slept with like.. twenty people, and they still don’t know where the clit is. more experience doesn’t automatically mean you’re good,” you move your hand to his cheek, caressing the soft skin. “it doesn’t matter to me that you’re a virgin. honestly, with how much guys are obsessed with virgins, i’m taking this as a win for the girls.” and with that, keigo smiled as well. you kissed him again, and as you pulled away, you held up three fingers

“okay, i’ve thought of three options. number one,” you put your other two fingers down. “you let me sacrifice you to the cult i’ve been going to. number two,” you raise your second finger, “we can just cuddle and turn on a movie, or keep making out and leave it at that for tonight and we can take as much time as you need. number three,” you held your third finger up. “we keep making out, but see where it goes. if you’re uncomfortable at any time we can stop and just forget about it, okay?” you smile

“what a hard choice,” keigo taps his chin. “all very intriguing options.. but can i go with option three?”

you hum in a satisfied response, climbing back onto his lap as you two return to a make out session that would make a porn star blush.

[melon-fodder]

-> KINKTOBER MASTERLIST <-

♡ WARNINGS: cheating, fem bodied reader, exes to lovers, mentioned Zeke x reader, cunnilingus, p in v, squirting, creampie, hurt/comfort, crying, lots of kissing

♡ WORD COUNT: 2.7k

♡ NOTE: listen. I hurt myself writing this. I love him so much, it’s unbelievable. This is less of a kinky fic and more of a declaration of love (which, if you’ve known me from previous blogs, you know this is pretty typical of me when it comes to Rei).

You shouldn’t be here. 

Shouldn’t be outside of this familiar apartment. Shouldn’t be knocking on this door you used to have a key to. Shouldn’t be staring into the handsome face of the man now staring back at you—the man holding the door open, waiting, hoping. 

“I shouldn’t be here,” you repeat, this time out loud. 

“You shouldn’t,” Reiner agrees, gnawing on his lip for a moment before adding, “come in anyway.”

You can’t say no to him. You’ve never been able to. It’s one of many, many reasons things ended between the two of you. It’s also the reason you’re back, sliding past him, bodies brushing as you step into your old home. 

It doesn’t look much different. Other than the things you took on your way out, everything is how you left it two years ago which… isn’t all that surprising, honestly. It makes sense that Reiner would keep things exactly the same. He didn’t want you to leave, after all. It was your decision, and it was for the best. It was for the both of you. 

Arms wrap around you from behind, and you can feel the lump in your throat rise, threatening to escape as a sob because you’ve missed him so much. 

You never stopped loving him, and you doubt you ever will. 

You were just so codependent. You absorbed each other, and while that sounds romantic—is romantic—it’s also dangerous. There were no boundaries, no separation between your personalities. Two people molded together to form a single, obsessive entity. 

It wasn’t healthy. There was no room for growth, no room for anything. Just the two of you living in your own world. It was full of love just as much as it was full of loss. Opportunities. Identities. 

Reiner rests his head against yours, inhales then releases a shaky breath. 

“You still use the same shampoo,” he comments. 

You don’t know how to respond, just nod with a murmured, “Yeah. Like the smell of it.”

“I do too.”

He doesn’t need to tell you that; you already know. He’s always liked your shampoo and your perfume and your deodorant—your scent in general. He found comfort in it the same way you found comfort in his. The way you still do. 

Reiner waits a few moments before tentatively asking, “does he like it?” and you stiffen in the arms still wrapped around you. You don’t need to question who he’s talking about to know, and your stomach churns at the mention of him. 

Your boyfriend. The one you’ve been dating for a little over a year. Zeke. 

“He hasn’t complained,” you respond quietly, peeling his hands away from where they’re locked just below your stomach. 

It isn’t to get away from him, though. Instead, you turn to face Reiner, nearly chest to chest as you look up at him. 

God, he’s so handsome, you can barely stand it. His chiseled jawline is covered in stubble that’s slightly darker than the hair on his head. He needs a trim, the blond long enough to start curling around his ears. That amber gaze is just as disarming as it always has been, making you weak at the knees as your own eyes start to burn. 

“Please don’t cry,” he says as he raises a hand to your cheek, thumb catching the first tear to fall. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“That’s the whole problem, Rei,” you sniffle, “I do wanna stay. I wanna be here with you, but I—I don’t—” openly crying, you shove your face into his neck as you struggle to speak. “I don’t wanna be a bad person!”

He shushes you, one hand splayed across your back, the other on your head as he holds you to him with such affection and possession you can almost hear his thoughts: don’t leave. Please don’t leave again. 

“You’re the best person I know,” he tells you, so close to your ear it makes you shiver. “It’s why I miss you so fucking much. You’re so, so good.”

You clutch at his shirt, trying and failing to steady your breathing. It’s stuck in your chest, clawing at your lungs, burning and begging—yearning. 

It stops when Reiner tilts your head back. Everything stops. The world around you, time itself, the earth on its fucking axis. 

And, then he closes the small gap, and it all starts spinning again. You suck in air through your nose, flooded with relief and pain all at once, because he’s kissing you, and you’re kissing him back, and you don’t deserve it—the oxygen. 

This is the kiss of death in so many ways, an ending rather than a beginning. This is you tossing out your morals, your relationship, the trust you once had in yourself. 

It’s the most horrible thing you’ve ever done. 

It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever done. 

He’s breathing life back into you, making blood rush through your vessels, electricity coursing through each and every nerve. 

“Just tonight,” he pleads, “one night and I’ll let you go back to him.” His voice is strangled, words forced out through gritted teeth. 

“I can’t—” Reiner lets out a wounded sound before you can finish, and you hold his face, pressing your lips to his over and over before clarifying, “I can’t go back.” You lean your forehead against his and whisper, “don’t let me go back.”

Your feet are suddenly swept out from under you as Reiner lifts you, cradles you like the bride you never were as he whisks you to the bedroom. He’s gentle—so, so gentle—as he lays you down, takes special care in slipping your shoes off, kissing up your calf while reaching for the waistband of your shorts. 

You didn’t dress up for this, came over in the same clothes you used to wear around the apartment, hadn’t even thought about it when you slipped on an old t-shirt that once belonged to him. You never parted with it, reasoned with Zeke that it’s only because it’s the softest piece of clothing you own which isn’t a lie but is definitely not the full truth either. 

Terry cloth slides down your legs followed by the soft panties beneath, and the whole time Reiner is grazing his lips over your trembling thighs, running his nose up the inside of them until he gets to the crease where leg meets pelvis, and he groans. You don’t know if it’s because of how long it’s been since he’s seen you or smelled you or tasted you, but the noise is one of hunger, and Reiner wastes no time in parting your folds and burying himself in you. 

“Oh, god—fuck, Rei!”

He hums and he licks and he sucks. He does everything you like, everything you need, knows your body so well that it’s almost comical. 

You can’t laugh, though. Not right now when you’re too busy moaning and gasping, running fingers through his hair. 

He’s so perfect. Not just at this; it’s everything. How he speaks to you, how he touches you, how he knows you. Your heart breaks a little as he delves his tongue into your hole because he’s better at this than your boyfriend. So much fucking better, but is it actually a difference in skill, or is it just because it’s him? And which is worse? 

Your hips buck, your dripping pussy sliding over Reiner’s face a few times before he curls his arms around your thighs to hold you still. He wants you to cum on his tongue, used to beg for it, used to demand it, please, baby, need you too, need to taste you. 

Apparently, that hasn’t changed. Reiner keeps pressing himself into the mattress, almost frantic as he babbles, “make a mess on me, missed you so much—” releasing one of your legs to slide a finger into your heat, moans at the same time you do, and when you start to flutter around him, he praises you, “just like that, so good, so pretty, baby…”

He laps up your slick, gently cleaning the mess from your puffy lips while his fingers remain inside of you, pumping slowly, making sure you’re ready for him. 

Rising to his knees, Reiner strips his shirt off, flashes a little smile when he catches you ogling him. He’s lost weight since you last saw him, but his shoulders are still broad, biceps defined and flexing with every movement. 

His pants come next, a pair of gray sweats that he’s already leaked through. He’s so hard, cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. The pretty vein that runs up the side of his length pulses under smooth skin, his tip dark red and weeping precum. 

You surge forward to wrap your hand around him, but Reiner grips his cock before you can, lets out a breathless laugh and admits, “I’ll cum too fast if you touch me right now, and if that happens and I don’t get to feel your pussy, I’ll actually die.”

It pulls a little giggle from you, but you roll your eyes, mumble, “dramatic,” before he leans down and shuts you up with a tender kiss. 

“Very dramatic,” he agrees, lining himself up with your dripping hole and adding, “if I’m gonna die, I wanna do it with you wrapped around me.”

And with that, he starts pushing in. 

You moan low in your throat, a sustained note that grows in volume with every inch he gives you. Somehow over the last couple of years you’d forgotten how big he is, long and thick as he fills all the emptiness inside of you. Your body sucks him in deeper and deeper, greedy for what you haven’t had for so long. 

There have been times—more than you’d like to admit—that you’ve thought about Reiner like this, fingers gliding over your clit to get yourself off. 

Much worse, though, you also think of him while fucking your boyfriend, all the ways that Reiner fulfilled your needs, all the ways that Zeke can’t. 

Because while Zeke fucks you well, it lacks a certain passion. It lacks the adoration and respect that Reiner has for you. That’s not to say that you and Reiner never indulged in quickies or mindless sex. It’s just that even when you did, there was heat and desperation, like if you didn’t have each other right then and there, the whole world would fall apart. 

It’s not like that now, of course. Right now is all heavy, hooded gazes and slow, sloppy kisses. He pushes further, splitting you open until his tip is nudging your cervix and his hips are resting against yours. 

You’re panting, eyebrows pinched together, and he asks, “am I hurting you?” while mouthing down your jaw. 

You shake your head, “n-no, just… so much. Fuck—nngh, Rei…”

He snakes a hand between your bodies to massage your clit, fingerprints melting onto the swollen nub and making you arch your back. 

“Does this help?” 

Your cunt spasms around him and your eyes roll as you gasp, “yeah—yeah, feels good, so good.”

You start rolling your hips, pressing your swelling bud into his calloused fingers, and he takes it as his sign to start moving. His first thrusts are slow, experimental, but once he sees that you’re not in any kind of pain, Reiner straightens up, pulling you toward his toned thighs and angling your hips to meet his. One of your legs curls around him while the other is thrown over his shoulder. 

Thumb still rubbing circles on your clit, he stares down at you, eyes hazy as he watches the way your cunt squeezes him, syrupy slick and creamy white coating his cock and making him lick his lips. 

He places a sweet kiss on your ankle, hovering over the bone, and it reminds you (both of you, probably) of the silver anklet that he got you, the little charm that used to swing wildly when he’d fuck you like this. 

A few more languid thrusts, a few more hushed praises— “no idea how good you feel, how much I missed this, so fucking perfect—perfect for me…” 

The more he talks, the faster his hips snap until he’s pounding into you, cock grinding against all your spots and kissing that unyielding spongy wall deep inside of you.

You feel the slap of his heavy balls against your ass, the coarse hair that decorates his pelvic bone gliding through the slick mess between your legs. Still toying with your clit, Reiner groans when fluid leaks from your cunt, dribbling out of you and dripping down his dick. 

“You miss the way I fill you up, yeah?” he pants, flushed from his chest to his cheeks. “Love how I make you cum all over me?”

“Yeah, ohh fuck yes,” you whine, orgasm quickly approaching. You’re so full, pressure building inside of you, and you need him to pull out for just a second to let you push out more of the gossamer fluid he’s milking from your sopping cunt, but he won’t—just keeps fucking into you and swiping over your clit, his eyes rolling as he feels you tighten around him. 

Your voice breaks as you call for him, one heel digging into his back as the leg over his shoulder shakes violently. Your muscles contract over and over, gummy walls clinging to his cock, sucking at the engorged flesh until he can barely move. 

When the waves stop crashing, Reiner pulls out only to rub your clit so perfectly that your body begins to quake all over again and you gush onto the sheets below. 

His hand slows into a soothing touch as he spreads your mess over your folds, humming in admiration before he pushes into you your messy hole once more. 

Your leg drops from his shoulder, and Reiner falls forward, catching himself on his forearms. His kiss is heated, and you taste yourself on his tongue as he moves deep within you. 

“You’re so soft now,” he whispers against your lips, “can I cum inside?”

You hold his head in your hands, nodding while brushing your lips over his again and again. 

He melts, dragging his mouth down your neck, licking over your collarbone, moving one hand to your chest to squeeze at your curves and brush over your pebbled nipples. 

His hips stutter, strangled grunts catching in his throat, and then, once his cock is nestled as deeply as possible, Reiner cums. He shudders on top of you, spilling himself inside of you and giving several more shallow thrusts to smear his seed against your cervix. 

You don’t want him to pull out, could lay like this forever—under his weight, stretched out and so unbelievably full of him.

He twitches inside of you, moans quietly when you clench around him. You lock both legs around him then pull him in for a kiss, keeping him close to you as your fingers curl around the back of his head. 

“Missed you,” you tell him in a hushed voice. 

His lips pull into a soft smile, eyes closed as he rubs his nose against yours. 

“Missed you more.”

You think there’s a good chance that you’ve both been yearning since the day that you walked out. Your heart had shattered when you left him—even if it was for the best—and you still haven’t managed to put it back together.

Now, though… 

Now, you can feel the pieces falling back into place, gold resin filling every crack and turning the fragile muscle into something entirely different, something artful. 

“Stay with me,” he utters, lowering himself until his head is resting on your chest, lower body fitting between your spread legs. 

You card fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp the way you know he enjoys as you breathe deeply and stare at the ceiling. The high from your climax hasn’t quite lifted yet, but you can still think clearly enough to know you can’t make any promises. Not right now, anyway. 

There’s a conversation you need to have first, a difficult conversation made so much worse by the little, velvet box sitting in the drawer of Zeke’s nightstand—the box you weren’t supposed to see. 

The box that prompted you to knock on the door to your old apartment. 

[wilwheaton]

When you watch The Curse, you are watching two children who were abused and exploited daily during production. No adults protected us.

This was originally published on my blog in August, 2022.

I had a wonderful time at Steel City Comicon this weekend. It was my first time at this particular con, so I didn’t know there was such a huge contingent of horror fans, creators, and vendors who attend.

I love horror, and I was pretty psyched to be in the same place as John Carpenter and Tom Savini, across the street from the Dawn of the Dead mall. Pittsburgh feels like one of the places horror was invented, at least to me.

A number of these horror fans came to see me, and asked me to sign posters and other things from a movie my parents forced me to do when I was 13, called The Curse. I had to tell each of these people that I would not sign anything associated with that movie, because I was abused and exploited during production. The time I spent on that film remains the most traumatizing time of my life, and though I am a 50 year-old man, just typing this now makes my hands shake with remembered fear of a 13 year-old boy who nobody protected, and the absolute fury the 50 year-old man feels toward the people who hurt him.

I told this story in Still Just A Geek, and I’ve talked about it in some podcasts I did on the promo tour, but I’ve never put it out in public like this, in its entirety.

I suspect someone at the publisher would prefer I tease this and hope it drives book sales from people who want to read all of it, but I honestly don’t want to have another weekend like this one where everything is awesome, except the few times people who have no idea (and why should they) put that fucking poster in front of me, and all the fear, abandonment, and trauma come flooding back as I tell them that I won’t sign it, and why.

To their credit, each person was as horrified as they should have been, told me they had no idea (if they didn’t read my book why would they), and quickly put the poster away. They were all understanding. I am grateful for that.

But I really don’t need to tell this story over and over again, so here it is, with a child abuse and exploitation content warning, so I can just tell people to Google it.

After Stand by Me, everything changed. The attention from entertainment journalists, casting directors, and especially teen magazines came pouring in. The movie was a generational hit, beloved by critics and audiences alike, and every single one of us could pick anything to do next.

River’s parents and his agent got him Mosquito Coast, with Harrison Ford, as his next movie. I also auditioned for the role, but I knew even then that River was going to book the job. He was perfect, and I’d have to wait a little bit for my opportunity to come along.

I went on a lot of theatrical auditions after Stand by Me. I had tons of meetings with directors and the heads of casting at every major studio. It was all a very big deal, and I felt like we were all looking for something really special and amazing as my follow-up to Stand by Me.

At some point, a couple of producers contacted my agent with an offer to play one of the leads in an adaptation of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Colour Out of Space.” The script was titled The Farm. (It would, of course, be changed when the film was released).

I read it. I did not like it. It was a shitty horror movie, and I saw that right away. It was the sort of thing you rented on Friday when the new release you wanted was already out of the store.

My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

I told my parents I didn’t like it and didn’t want to do it. I clearly recall thinking it was a piece of shit that would hurt my career.

It wasn’t the first thing that had come our way that I wanted to pass on, and every other time, it hadn’t been a very big deal.

Sidebar: I was cast in Twilight Zone: The Movie, in 1983. The film tells four stories, and I was cast as the kid who can wish people into cartoonland. It was a GREAT role, in a movie I still love. (Note that Twilight Zone had four directors. One of them got three people killed. The segment I was cast in was not that one. I mention this because too many people zero in on this to deflect from what this whole thing is actually about.)

But I was CONVINCED by my parochial school teacher that if I worked on The Twilight Zone, which she had determined was satanic, I would go to hell. (This woman and her bullshit played a big role in my conversion to atheism at a young age, but when she told me that, I was all-in on the supernatural story they taught us in religion class.) I was so scared, more scared than I’d ever been to that point in my life, I cried and wailed and begged my parents to not make me do the movie. And I never told them why, because I was afraid my dad would laugh at me for being weak and afraid. My agent tried to talk me into it, and I wouldn’t budge. It’s the only thing I deeply and truly regret passing on, and I really hate I made that choice for such a stupid reason.

Okay. Back to The Curse.

This time, when I told them how much I hated it, they wouldn’t listen to me. My mother, already an incredibly manipulative person, used every tool at her disposal to change my mind. My father threatened me, mocked me, told me “It’s your decision” when it clearly wasn’t. It was all so weird; I didn’t understand why they cared so much.

That is, until they made me take a meeting with the producers of the movie, in their giant conference room on the top floor of a tall building in Hollywood. All I remember about this place was that it was huge; the table was way too big for the five of us who spread around it, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows on three of the walls, but the room was still dark. There was a weird optical illusion in the center of the table, this thing they sold in the Sharper Image catalog, made from two reflective dishes with a hole in the top of one. You placed an object in the bottom of the bottom dish, and it made it look like that object was floating above the whole thing. They had a plastic spider in it. What a strange detail for me to remember, but it’s as clear in my memory as if I were sitting in that room right now.

One man, who I presumed was the executive producer, was European or Middle Eastern (I didn’t know the difference then, he was just Not Like People I Knew), and I was instantly afraid of him. He was intimidating, and seemed like a person who got what he wanted.

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

I don’t remember what they said to me in their pitch or anything other than how uncomfortable and anxious I was to even be in that room. I tried so hard to be grown up and mature, but I — and my parents — was way out of my depth. I’d done one big movie and that was it. We didn’t have my agent with us, who had lots of experience and would have known what questions to ask.

No, in place of my experienced agent, my mother had decided she was going to be my manager, and she tackled the responsibility with an enthusiasm that was only matched by her absolute incompetence and inability to go toe-to-toe with producers the way my agent did. She was outwitted, out-thought, and outmaneuvered at every turn.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

So we sat there, my father who didn’t give a shit about me, my mother who was cosplaying as someone with experience, and me, thirteen years old, awkward as fuck, and scared to death.

At some point, this man, who is represented in my memory by big Jim Jones sunglasses under dark hair above an open collar, said, “We are offering you a hundred thousand dollars and round-trip travel for your whole family. We will cast your sister, Amy, to play your sister in the movie.”

It all made sense, now. I was only thirteen, but I knew my parents were pushing me so hard because this company was offering me — them, really — more money than I’d ever imagined I’d earn in my life, much less a single job.

I knew that the right thing to do, the smart thing to do, was to say no. There would be other opportunities, and it was stupid to cash myself out of feature films for what I thought was, in the grand scheme of things, not very much money.

It’s incredible to me that I knew all of this. It’s incredible to me that I could see all these things, plainly and clearly, and my parents couldn’t (or, more likely, chose not to).

So after this man made his offer, all the adults in the room ganged up on me, selling me HARD on this movie.

My mother said, “Don’t you want your sister to have the same opportunities you’ve had? Wouldn’t it be fun and exciting to go to Rome? Think of all the history!”

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

I don’t think about this very often, because it’s super upsetting to me. Right now, I’m so angry at my parents for subjecting me and my sister to this entire experience. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

In that moment, I felt bullied and trapped. All these adults were talking to me at the same time, and I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted to go home and get out of this room. I just wanted to go be a kid, so I did what I’d learned to do to survive: I gave in and did what my parents wanted.

The experience was awful. It was the worst experience I have ever had on a set in my life, by every single metric. The movie is awful, and it is the embarrassment I knew it would be.

But here’s the thing: when you watch The Curse, you are watching two children, me and my sister, who were abused on a daily basis. The production did not follow a single labor law. They worked us for twelve hours a day, on multiple film units (while I work on First unit, second unit sets up and waits for me. When I should get a break to rest, they send me to Second unit, then to Third unit, then back to First unit. I was 13.) without any breaks, five days a week. I was exhausted the entire time. I was inappropriately touched by two different adults during production. I knew it was wrong, but I was so scared and ashamed, and I felt so unsupported, I didn’t tell anyone. I knew my dad wouldn’t believe me, and my mother would blame me. Anything to keep the production happy, that’s what she did. That was more important to her than the health and safety of her children. The director was coked out of his mind most of the time, incompetent, and so busy fucking or trying to fuck one of the women in the cast, he was worse than useless. He was a fading actor who was cosplaying as a director, as in over his head as my mother. My sister and I were never safe. Instead of harmless atmospheric SFX smoke, they set hay on fire in barrels and blew actual smoke onto the set. They took buckets of talc, broken wood, bits of wallpaper and plaster, and threw it into my face during a scene inside the collapsing house. My sister is in a scene where she goes to get eggs from some chickens, and they attack her. So they hired Lucio Fulci, the Italian horror master, to direct her sequence. His idea, which everyone was totally on board with, was to throw chickens at my sister. Live chickens, live roosters, live birds. Just throw them at a nine-year-old girl. Oh, and then tie them to her arms and legs so they’ll peck her. All of this happened under my mother’s observation, and with her full participation.

Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

If just ONE of the things I can remember happened to someone I loved, I would have grabbed my kids, gone to the airport, and flown home. Fuck those abusive assholes in the production. Let the lawyers sort it all out. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it.

My mom says she “had some talks” with the producers. She claims that, once, she wouldn’t let us leave the hotel. (God, what a fucking dump that place was. It was just slightly better than a hostel.) I have no memory of that, but honestly the entire experience was so traumatic, I’ve blocked most of it out.

The movie was the commercial and critical failure I knew it would be. My parents spent the money. I don’t know what they spent it on. I got to keep fifteen cents of every dollar, so . . . yay?

My sister and I hardly ever talk about this. I suspect it was as upsetting and traumatic for her as it was for me. I told her I was writing about it, and asked her if she remembered anything. She told me she’d been lied to her whole life about this movie. Our mother let her believe she had been cast on the strength of her audition. “I was excited to work with you,” she said. She reminded me about some stuff I’d blocked out, including a scene where my character’s older brother (played by an actor named Malcolm Danare, who was kind and gentle, and made both of us feel safer when he was around) shoves my character into a pile of cow shit. When it came time to shoot the scene, the mud they’d put together to be the cow shit looked an awful lot like cow shit. When Malcolm pushed me into it, we all found out it was real cow shit. I was FURIOUS. The director had lied to me and had allowed me to have my entire body shoved into an actual pile of actual cow shit. I don’t remember what I said, but I remember he treated me the exact same way my father did whenever I got upset: he laughed at me, told me I was being too sensitive, reminded me that he was the director and he wanted to get a “real” performance out of me, and concluded, “If it bothers you so much, we’ll get you a hepatitis shot,” before he walked away.

My sister also recalled that, after she survived the scene with the chickens, it was the producers’ idea to give her one as a pet.

Okay, let’s unpack that for a quick second: you’ve been traumatized by these birds, so we’re going to give you one as a pet. That you’ll somehow keep in your hotel, and then will somehow get back to America. It will shock you to learn that neither of those things happened.

She remembered, as I do, the huge fight I had with my parents in our kitchen, where I told them I hated the script and I hated the movie. I didn’t want to do it, and I hated that they were making me do it.

“You don’t have a choice,” my father commanded. “You are doing this movie.”

“This is the only film you are being offered,” my mother lied to me. She made me feel like, if I didn’t do this movie, I would never do another movie again in my life. I had to do this movie. As my father bellowed, I had no choice.

Both of my parents denied this argument ever happened. Can I tell you how reassuring it is to know that my sister, who was also there, remembers it the same way I do?

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them.

But one thing she told me, the thing I did not know, the thing that makes me so angry I want to break things, actually managed to make the entire experience even worse than I remembered it.

There’s a scene after her chicken incident where I check up on her in her bedroom. She’s got cuts and bruises, and I guess we talk about it. I don’t remember and I can’t watch the movie because I’m terrified it will give me a PTSD flashback (I’ve had one of those and I recommend avoiding it). Here’s the thing about that scene: she has some cuts on her face, and those cuts are real. They are not makeup.

I’m going to repeat that. My nine-year-old little sister had actual cuts on her face that were placed there by an adult, on purpose.

The makeup department decided they would literally cut my little sister’s face with a scalpel, in three places, and put bandages over them. My sister told me our mother wasn’t in the makeup room when this happened — honestly, it seemed like our mother was strangely and conveniently absent when most of the really terrible things happened to us on the set — and when my sister told her what they’d done, she “lost her shit” at the production. She was pissed, I guess, which is appropriate and surprising. I wonder what would have to have happened for her to put us on a plane and get us home to safety? I mean, her son being abused daily didn’t do it, and her daughter being CUT IN THE FACE ON PURPOSE didn’t do it.

I just . . . I can’t. I can’t understand or comprehend allowing your own children to be physically and emotionally abused. They were literally selling my sister and me to these people, like we were some kind of commodity.

This was a tough conversation. My sister’s experience with our parents is very different from mine. My sister and I love each other. We’re close. I know it’s hard for her to hear that her brother, who she loves, was so abused by her parents, who she also loves. I was really grateful she made the time to talk to me about it, and grateful the experience wasn’t as horrible for her as it was for me.

As we were finishing our call, Amy also remembered one man, a young Italian named Luka, who was our driver for the movie. I haven’t thought about him in thirty years, but I can see his face now. He was kind, he was friendly, he taught us how to kick a soccer ball, and in the middle of an abusive, torturous experience, he stood out as a kind and gentle man. I mention him because she remembered him, which made me remember him, and goddammit I want at least one small part of this thing to not be awful.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares.

Ultimately, as I predicted and feared, this piece of shit movie cashed me out of respectable films forever. I got offers for movies, but they were always mindless comedies or exploitative horror films. They were never the serious dramas I wanted to work in after Stand by Me. The industry looked at me and River, wondering if one or both of us would become a breakout star. They quickly saw that River was doing real acting work, and I was in this piece of shit. For River, Stand by Me was a beginning. For me, it would turn out to be pretty much everything, at least as far as film goes.

There are thousands of reasons film careers do and don’t take off. Maybe mine wouldn’t have taken off anyway. Clearly, it’s not where my life ended up, and I’m super okay with that now. But when all of this happened, it hurt and haunted me.

The Curse remains one of the most consequential times the adults in my life failed to protect me. I’m 50. I still have nightmares. Everything I need to know about who my parents are is wrapped up in that experience: the total lack of concern for my safety and happiness, treating me like an asset instead of a son, lying to me, manipulating me, and using me to get things they wanted, and then gaslighting me about it.

This annotation is the last thing I wrote before I turned this manuscript in, because opening these wounds is hard and painful. I put it off as long as I could, and I feel like I’m still holding back, because just this small glimpse of the experience has taken me a week to write. I can’t imagine trying to go back and unpack the whole thing. (Note that is not in the book: I’ve made an EMDR appointment to work on this because the nightmares have come back after the weekend).

Fuck The Curse, and fuck every single person who exploited and hurt two beautiful children to make it. You all participated in child abuse, and you all knew better. Shame on all of you. I hope this follows you to the end of your life. I hope that living with what you did to innocent children has been as hard for you as it has been for me, because you deserve no less.

[neos127]

WITH GREAT POWER COMES GREAT RESPONSIBILITY

pairing. spider-man!jake x gn!reader genre. fluff + hcs notes. had to make this bc i’ve been a spider-man fan for like 2827282 years and i love jake sooooo ! wc. 1.4k

• EVEN though he’s a wall crawling superhero who can stop a bus with his bare hands, spider-man jake is a complete nerd who can’t pull a girl. despite his charming good looks and gorgeous smile, he is avoided like the plague (like all spider-man movies which makes no sense bc they’re hot !!!)

• but somehow, he was able to get your attention. you, the person who was liked and envied by a lot of people in school. you were on track to a good college and had a stellar internship at oscorp. you were absolutely perfect in jake’s eyes- and he was in yours.

• jake never made the first move with you, too scared of rejection. he was surprised when you suddenly spoke to him one day, asking if he was okay after getting into an altercation with flash thompson. “you know my name?” he stuttered, blushing when you laughed at the question. “well of course, but i just wanted to make sure you knew your name. seemed like you hit your head pretty hard.”

• after that it seemed as if the two of you ran into each other everywhere. on the street, in the library and even this one cafe that jake often went to. this helped jake get to know you more and fall even more in love with you.

• jake was always flustered around you and you noticed it. his ears or cheeks were red when you directed your attention onto him and you picked up on his nervous habit of playing with his glasses. it was adorable and made you constantly question why none of the girls in your school wanted him.

• whenever the two of you would study at the library, jake had trouble keeping his eyes off you. you were so pretty when focused and it just made his heart flutter. when you became so tired to where your eyes started drooping, jake began to finish your homework for you. you scolded him for it, but he didn’t mind, wanting to help you out in any way he could.

• your first date with jake was a disaster when the boy forgot his own strength out of nerves and collapses the table you were about to eat dinner on. jake made an amazing home cooked meal for the both of you at his aunts place for your first date. he felt embarrassed about not being able to take you anywhere fancy but you brushed it off and gushed about how romantic he was. unfortunately jake had no idea how to act normal around you and caused the dinning table to break. you were in shock that the legs gave out simply by him leaning on it, but jake just assured you that it was a really old table.

• when the two of you became official, jake desperately wanted to tell you his secret, but he also doesn’t want to put you in danger. it was hard to keep making excuses, but he couldn’t get you involved in his dangerous lifestyle. you started to become suspicious and a bit insecure in the relationship. all you wanted was for jake to trust you, not understanding why he wouldn’t tell you what was going on with him.

• when you’ve had enough and tell the boy that you need a break, he nearly looses his shit. jake was hoping to stay in a relationship with you without having to mention his alter-ego, but he soon realized that was a stupid dream. later that night he ended up knocking on your window as spider-man which was honestly terrifying from your perspective. you thought that maybe you had done something illegal and he was going to take you in. as soon as you opened the window, you began to word vomit.

“i know i should’ve watched the movie in theaters instead of an illegal website but im saving my money for this new purse i want!”

“huh?”

• jake takes his mask off in the midst of your rambling, causing you to stop short. your jaw was on the floor for about a minute and the silence made jake was to take a dive out of your window. before you could speak, he began to explain everything, reassuring you that the lie had been tearing him apart inside. he had only wanted to protect you. you cut off his rambling with a kiss, telling the boy that you forgave him and that it was killing you to be away from him.

• you had a lot of questions about his powers, wanting to know what exactly he could do. it always made you giggle to see him stick to the ceiling so he would often do that when you were sad. seeing that cute smile on your face was enough to make his whole day.

• jake offered to take you swinging around the city one day but you denied him at first. you weren’t too big on heights and was terrified that he would drop you. “i’m the strongest man in the world how could i drop you?” he asked, making you roll your eyes and grudgingly agree. turns out— the experience was terrifying and jake accidentally released you from his hold mid air. he caught you shortly after, but the mini free fall you took made you demand that he take you to the ground. you didn’t talk to him for about an hour afterwards until he bought you your favorite ice cream.

• jake is the definition of golden retriever. it’s insane how bubbly and giddy this man is…does he ever get mad?? you often wonder. even with all the stress he’s under from being spider-man he’s just so happy. he claims it’s because you’re now in his life.

• one time jake crawled into your room, badly bruised and bloodied causing you to freak out. you immediately dropped your homework on your bed, racing over to the boy. he flashed you a weak smile as you set him up in your desk chair, trying to reassure you, but it was useless. as you fixed him up with whatever you could find in your first aid kit, you scolded him about not being more careful. he stayed silent and took it, knowing that you cared about him deeply and hated to see him in such a condition.

• randomly one night you asked why he still wore glasses even though his eyesight had been fixed after the spider bite. he claimed that it reminded him of how his life used to be, and he found comfort in the normalcy of it. you could never understand, but you emphasized and told him that the look was very attractive. jake couldn’t hide the blush that spread across his face.

• this boy’s metabolism is absolutely insane. if you cook dinner for the both of you, he has about four servings before he’s finally full. he’ll also eat all the snacks in your fridge, so it’s best to not get too attached to whatever’s in your fridge. it’s astounding to you how he still manages to keep his body the same, but you assume it’s because of his powers.

• he will go on the nerdiest rants ever and because you love jake so much, you listen. when it happens to be about physics or math, you kind of tune out, focusing on his puppy dog eyes and pouty lips. sometimes if he starts to ramble, you’ll lean over and kiss him, making the boy’s face flush red.

• patching jake up after his patrol usually ends up with the two of you making out on the floor. it doesn’t go very far when jake starts wincing because of whatever pain he is in, but you love the feeling of his lips on yours whatever chance you get.

• he almost lost you to one of the villains he was fighting and it had to have been the scariest experience of his life. jake could never imagine life without you, and seeing you injured simply because you knew spider-man made his head hurt. you tried reassuring him that you were alright multiple times, but jake didn’t listen as he cried and held you in his arms. it was a close call, and he wouldn’t have it happen again.

• despite his busy schedule with school and spider-man duties, he tries his best to make time for you and spoils you rotten when he can. he’s such a sweetheart and lives for the smile on your face whenever you see him.

• spider-man jake is truly the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.

©neos127

[byfulcrums]

Seeing people saying that Satoru doesn't actually care about Suguru and that the only reason Kenjaku caught him was bc he was surprised to see a person he killed alive is fucking wild, man

Like. Gojo's entire life revolves around Geto. The entire series happens because he loved Suguru too much to kill him, even though he knew he would have to do it eventually. The world literally went to shit because he wasn't over him

Geto Suguru's life would be completely unimportant to the story without Gojo Satoru, and Gojo Satoru's would be completely unimportant without Geto Suguru. They complement each other. They need each other

Two male betta fishes can't coexist. They will fight and one will die. They can't see each other — even if they're in different tanks, they won't be able to live. They'd eventually tire each other out, resulting in death. The only way for Satoru and Suguru's lives to be able to continue without the other would've been for them to never have met at all. And they can't be together. Not now, not ever again. Not while they're still alive. Not after everything that's happened

The entire story revolves around their relationship. Yuuji is a boy who ate a curse('s finger[s]), and Megumi is the prodigy who befriends him. Satoru is a prodigy, the strongest, and Suguru, the boy whose technique is eating curses, befriends him. The Jujutsu Kaisen story is all about parallels and they all connect to fucking Satosugu. It's all about them

The only reason Kenjaku's plan worked is because the body he used didn't belong to some random person Gojo killed, it worked because the body he used was Geto Suguru's, Gojo's one and only, his best friend. He must be thinking “Thank god they're gay” right now lmao

Gojo fucking hesitated. He hesitated multiple times when it came to Geto. He was supposed to kill him, yet he let him go. He has the Six Eyes, he could've easily tracked him down. He probably could tell if he was nearby (he can recognize Suguru from his scent) and just didn't go looking for him. And he could've so very easily escaped the trap that was set up for him, he was going to run away from it because we see him about to take that step but then Suguru's body shows up and says “Yo, Satoru!” with Suguru's voice and Satoru freezes and hesitates

They weren't able to let go of each other even after years of being separated (like a decade). When they meet, Suguru still greets Satoru warmly

Suguru is pretty much Satoru's moral code. He was the only person Satoru took at least mildly seriously pre-Toji (and we know Satoru just didn't do serious back then). He actually took his words to heart. He was kind, of course (especially from Suguru's PoV, since he's the person that knows him most), and not a bad person, but he wasn't nice. Suguru was always the ‘nice(r) one’, the one who actually had a moral code, while Satoru was more of an asshole to literally everyone and everything (some more, some less), thinking he and Suguru were above everyone else

When Suguru finally snaps (which, honestly. Fair) and goes genocidal (not so fair), Satoru slowly starts to be somewhat nicer and starts applying Suguru's old moral code to his own being — their roles weren't exactly reversed, but now they're not together anymore, so they might as well be. And Suguru was shown for having faith in the school and its system while it was Satoru the one who absolutely abhorred the higher-ups and all kinds of authority, but then it ended up with Suguru being the one to leave and become a cult leader with the blood of hundreds on his hands while Satoru was the one that stayed behind in the same place of the people he despises so much

(Imagine someone saying something like “Sometimes I doubt you even have a moral code” and Gojo answers with “Oh, my best friend my one and only is pretty much my moral code. He went homicidal a while back but it's okay haha” “...Actually, that explains a few things”)

Gojo doesn't have a god complex, but I wouldn't blame him if he did. I mean, he might as well be the closest thing to god human beings have ever seen. He used to put himself above everyone else, when he was a teenager. He thought that, the higher he was, the more he could do. And no one was better than him. But not Suguru. Back then, it wasn't “I'm the strongest” it was “We're the strongest and “We're the best” and “We're the ones that will beat you” and “We're the duo” and it was all about “us, us, us, us, us” instead of “me, me, me, me” like people thought it was — they were a pair. They still are

We know people thought and still think of Gojo as a weapon. As something that must be controlled, because on the moment he decides he doesn't want to be around them anymore, he could just straight up kill then without any effort (but getting rid of people in positions of power only gets other people in positions of power and it'll be a neverending story, and Gojo knows this so he's trying to do his best to fix it all through the younger generation, by letting them live). And we also know that Suguru is one of the very few people who did not believe that at all

Like their personalities and characters and stories and literally everything, their names complement each other. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru are such similar names, I get them mixed up all the time (the amount of times I've called them “Gojo Suguru” and “Geto Satoru” is embarassing. Also, “Saturu”. “Goto”. “Gejo”. Ugh). Both of their last names start with a G, end with an O and have 4 letters. Both of their given names start with an S, end with an U and have 6 letters. They complement each other. They need each other

The only times we've seen Gojo with an expression of actual pure, raw emotion is when it's about Geto. When he finds out about what Geto did, when he realizes how thin and wrong Geto looks, when he sees him again for what we assume to be the first time in years, when he dies, when a thing wearing his corpse and using his voice greets him (“Yo, Satoru!” oh my god)

Suguru was able to fight back when in Kenjaku's control after Satoru said his name. Kenjaku himself says that had never happened before

And you don't even have to see them as romantic. You don't have to ship them if you don't want to. But you can't deny that they care about each other more than they will ever care about anyone else