#it’s a funny rom-com right now

[fyepertine]

Something to Cry About, Part 2

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Part 1

[shawtuzi]

request: ‘Can you please write a Toji x (blk)fem reader smut but she like one of those earthy girls with all the waist chains/beads and he like obsessed with her style and all the jewelry she wears. boho/earthy girls don’t get enough love.’

i hear you anon and i see you so here you go <333

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ cw include: drug usage (weed), oral m receiving, unprotected sex, riding, slight pussyjob, toji likes her sm so a lot of praise, PUSSYDRUNK TOJI!!!, sex outdoors (no one can see them hehe), creampie, an ‘i like you’ confession bc i’ve been watching a lot of rom coms lately///not proofread sorry :(

‘it’s a lot of lust not a lot of love’

you hummed along to the song as you made out with toji, your tongue swirling against his. your bracelets jangled against your wrist as you tugged on his soft locs, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you did so. “slow down toji, s’no rush,” you mumbled against his lips, teeth biting down the tiniest bit on his bottom lip.

toji tried to distract himself by toying with your waist beads, but it just wasn’t working. between the two blunts you both shared, along with a couple sips of wine—courtesy of you, there was just no way you expected him to be in his right mind enough for him to go slow. “i don’t want to go slow though,” he groaned, grabbing a handful of your ass over your skirt.

you kissed your teeth, now pulling away from the pouting man. you pushed him down against the blanket you had crocheted yourself, your hands now resting on his pecs. “you’re so impatient you know that? need my pussy that bad hm?” you giggled cocking your head to the side. toji gulped, his eyes finding it hard to stay locked on yours. eye contact with you was always so intense.

“yes….yes i am impatient and yes i need your pussy that bad.”

you smiled at his words, now leaning down to give him a slow kiss. you kissed your way down his jaw, to his neck, and finally down his chest. “damn….you got this worked up over a little kissing?” you teased, cupping toji over his jeans, earning a deep groan from him. toji didn’t respond, instead he just gave you the finger, too fucked out already to even come up with a proper comeback.

toji hissed when he felt you finally undo the button to his jeans, his leaking dick now free from its confinements. “go slow m’feelin’ a little sensitive,” toji grumbled and all you did was laugh, taking his throbbing dick in your hands. you gave the tip a soft squeeze, licking your lips. “now you wanna go slow? that’s funny,” you snickered, bringing his dick to your mouth, suckling the tip softly.

you ran your tip along the underside of his dick, fighting the urge to laugh again when you felt toji buck his hips up. toji wanted so badly to just push your head down, but you had just gotten your hair done a few days prior and he’d hate to cause you any discomfort. it was your first time getting passion twists and he was absolutely enamored with the way you looked with them.

“deeper—please go deeper y/n,” toji finally lifted his head up, now making eye contact with you but he reallyyyyy wishes he hadn’t. the way you were looking at him with those low, red eyes; eyelashes fluttering shut each time you took more of him in your mouth had him wanting to bust right then and there. toji felt his face flush, cheeks burning hot at the way you looked at him like he was the most precious thing to ever grace this earth—which in his opinion he wasn’t, far from it honestly.

toji’s eyes rolled back when he felt his dick hit the back of your right throat. “mmph fuck yeah—that’s that shit,” he groaned, bringing his hand to rest on the crown of your head. he didn’t grip it or apply any pressure, he just sat there and let you do what do best—suck the soul outta him.

the wind began to pick up, giving toji’s flaming cheeks a nice breeze to cool off. you made him so…so…beside himself. i mean for god sakes you had him fucking in the middle of a field of flowers, blazed out of his mind—it’s safe to say the grip you had on him was the most annoying shit ever.

“keep sucking me like that baby, f-fuck, take it deeper. be a good girl and take it deeper f’me,” you listened without protest, taking the last few inches of him in your mouth. toji was beyond fucked out, praises flying past his lips left n right and it only egged you on to turn him into even bigger pile of mush than he already was.

you pulled off of his dick with lewd pop! now paying attention to his swollen balls. toji’s body jerked, his heavy hand gripping onto your shoulder. “w—hah! w-wait y/n,” toji hissed, his jaw clenching impossibly tight. you lifted your head up, puffing air through your cheeks.

“i’m sorry i—”

“just shush toji.”

you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand before crawling up toji’s body, your lower half hovering over his twitching dick. you pushed toji down gently by his shoulders, humming to yourself at just how damn good he looked beneath you.

“you’re fuckin’ unreal,” toji sounded damn near breathless as he said it, his chest puffing up with each deep breath. his hand reached up to tug down your olive green, cropped tube top; his rough hands immediately latching onto your breasts.

“you really mean that or you jus’ fucked up?” you knew he meant it with all his heart, you just wanted to hear him say it. you blindly reached for the end of your skirt, tugging the soft material up your thighs. just as you pressed your panty clad pussy against toji’s dick he whispered the three words ‘i mean it’ in your ear, his teeth nibbling at your lobe.

the words ‘i like you’ were sitting so heavy on his tongue but he just couldn’t find the courage to tell you how he felt.

toji—a grown ass thirty four year old man who’s literally served time in the slammer was scared to tell you, a twenty something year old woman who was the literal embodiment of a fawn how he felt about you. what a joke.

“what are you thinking about?” you spoke softly, running your thumb over the stubble on toji’s jaw. toji shook his head, bringing his rough hands to your petal soft love handles.

“s’nothin.”

“liar.”

“i said it’s nothing.”

your breath hitched, mouth dropping open slightly at the feeling of toji’s dick pressed against your bare pussy. he felt so hot and soft against you and toji could certainly say the same thing about you. with one harsh tug toji ripped your thong off, tossing the semi soaked material to the side. you rlly should’ve known better with that one—toji hates whenever things are in his way.

“you’re such a liar toji,” your laugh was breathless as you began to slowly grind your pussy against toji’s dick. he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, his brows furrowing in annoyance but mostly pleasure. he was already so close it was so fucking embarrassing. pre dripped from his throbbing tip and onto his clenching abs, creating an even bigger mess between the two of you.

toji bucked his up, puffing air through his cheeks to silently tell you he was more than ready for you. you gave him a small smile, your tooth gems glistening in the afternoon sun. “can i confess something toji?” you asked, lifting yourself up to balance your weight on your feet. you grabbed toji’s dick, swiping his tip between your folds before slowly inserting it.

you both gasped in unison, toji’s eyes fluttering shut at the warmth that enveloped his cock. “w-what do you need to confess you fu—hucking brat,” he growled, his fingernails digging in the soft flesh of your thighs. in one swift movement you sat all the down, toji’s balls now pressed snugly against your backside.

“i really, really like hanging out with you toji,” your voice was a little high pitched, rightfully so because you practically feel the trembling man below you in your stomach. you pressed your hands against toji’s chest, bouncing on his dick like your life depended on it.

you brushed a stray hair out of toji’s face, cradling his jaw in your palm that still smelled of the shea butter you applied before your outing. “you like hanging out with me too toji? you like me?” your tone was coming off a tad desperate but you could’ve cared less. toji’s adam’s apple bobbed, a pathetic whine bubbling in his throat.

“yes.”

“yes what?”

toji wrapped his arms around your waist, his feet planting into the ground before fucking up into you. “yes i fucking l-like you y/n, could you not—shit! fucking tell? jesus christ your pussy is so good,” toji couldn’t help the drool that slipped past his lips, it was impossible to keep his mouth shut at this point. your hands found themselves in toji’s hair, tugging roughly at the soft strands.

“i knew you did i just wanted to hear you say it. i like you too toji.”

i like you too toji.

toji halted his movements, his dick now in you to the hilt. you suddenly felt a warm sensation in your lower half and knew immediately that toji was in the process of cumming. you circled your hips as best as you could, milking him for all he was worth.

“hah f-fucking shit i can’t stop fucking cumminggg,” he groaned, burying his face in your sweet smelling neck; the scent of vanilla and caramel had him feeling more dizzy than he already was.

after giving toji a few minutes to catch his breath you sat up, his dick still sheathed inside of you. “look how messy,” you spread your lips, giving toji a mouthwatering view of your overly stuffed pussy. toji licked his lips, reaching over to down the rest of the wine that was in your abandoned glass.

“lemme clean you up.”

[chunksworld]

Swim

IZ*ONE Kim Minju x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N: #BreedMinju. Thank you to Kaede for beta reading as always.

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You never imagined in your wet dreams, in all of the times you masturbated to her, or even that time you drunk texted her a picture of you shirtless after one too many drinks at the bar that the woman you met inside the elevator during your first day at the company some two odd years ago would be in your apartment watching some rom-com from the 90s that you are too inebriated to remember the title of. Your heart is pounding, partly because of the double serving of triple shot espresso you perhaps shouldn’t have drank this morning and partly because she looks devastatingly stunning in that white shirt that completely conceals whatever shorts she maybe wearing underneath which further accentuates those long legs of hers—

“I don’t remember the TV facing this direction, unless there’s something on my face?”

Shit.

Aside from her God-given physical features, it’s the way she can toy with your feelings and flirt with you so effortlessly that always leaves you wanting for more. Every single little interaction with her is an adventure on its own; the way she would wink at you every time you pass by her in the office, the way she would walk up to you to fix your tie while telling you how your perfume “smells like the oceanside on a summer day” —whatever the hell that means— or how she would always give you words of encouragement with that bright smile of hers during stressful days. 

It should mean something, has to mean something. Right? You can’t ask anyone for advice either, not when you’re the only two people born on this side of the century in your department. Your coworkers are either divorced or having a midlife crisis, and quite frankly, you might be having a quarter-life crisis if such a thing exists. You can’t stay professional any longer, and you are more than thankful that you’re not at the workplace right now because the thoughts swimming inside your head are absolutely not safe for work. And it’s all because of this fucking woman that’s laughing as if everything is sunshine and rainbows: Kim Minju. 

It doesn’t help that she’s the prettiest woman you know. even more so than the handful of girls you’ve hooked up with during college. Evidently, you are not the only one that shares that sentiment because you don’t miss the old way some of your older male coworkers would give her a certain, disgusting look that you wish to erase from your memories and you know she deserves better than them. She deserves someone like you, but you don’t exactly know if that feeling is reciprocated. But as to how far you can push your luck, you haven’t found out the answer to that yet—perhaps tonight is the night. 

“Are you still with me? Or did my goddess face lure you in too deep?” 

That now makes the two of you not paying attention to the movie—granted you’ve already seen it at least a dozen times during college when you were a hopeless romantic but who are you to turn down Minju when she specifically requested it? Plus, that’s not your concern at this very moment when she scoots ever so closely to you and the heat her skin radiates is enough to burn you. “Honestly, I don’t blame you if you have a crush on me. I sort of have that effect on guys.” There’s that fucking wink again, and the way she pouts her lips as if she is posing for a selfie. “I admire your resilience though, most guys would have me moaning their names on their bed already by this point.”

“Not funny, Minju.” It really isn’t, not when she’s mere inches away from you and if you were just a bit more drunk now those irresistible lips of hers would be meshed with yours now. You try to look away but you can’t, they captivate you to no end and you don’t even want to look away now—the sheen on those cherry red lips, the way they stand out against her milky white skin, the way she then bites her lower lips as to tempt you even further, the way sweat slowly drips down the side of her face and to her neck and you think they’d look good with your bite marks all over them.

Even if you look down, her succulent thighs and legs are all that will pervade your senses and you won’t be able to stop thinking about how you just want to rip whatever garments she’s wearing underneath and have her spread her legs while you eat her out like she’s your last meal on Earth. “You can’t just keep doing this for years and not expect me to make a move eventually.”

“Then what’s stopping you, hmm?” 

Minju somehow shifts even closer to you, her lips practically brushing against yours, her eyes staring deep into your soul, her hands resting on your thighs. She probes into you even deeper, much deeper than any other time and emergency sirens are popping up in your head. There have been many close encounters like this, way too many for your liking. 

The way she would wear pencil skirts on certain days and make it her mission to bend over in front of you as much as possible to show the unreal curvature of her ass—then proceeding to smirk as if she doesn’t know how much your cock wants to burst through your pants. The way she would purposely bump into you and pretend to fall so you can pull her into an inadvertent hug. 

Or when she would wear those dresses that hug her curves tightly during galas and she would give you a courtesy hug for a second longer than corporate policies would allow. Or when she kissed you during Christmas party last year and claimed that she had to do it because you two were “underneath a mistletoe.” 

It all has to end tonight, because God forbid you have to spend another night alone on your bed making a mess while you shoot ropes after ropes all over yourself thinking about her. It’s exhausting having to play these games with her when you’re 99% sure she is into you and you have to take action now before someone else does.

“Minju, I don’t think you’re ready for what I’m packing down there.” You test the waters even further, carefully studying her facial expressions while trying not to get lost in her eyes. It’s quite a difficult task when the alcohol is hitting you harder by the minute but when a sly grin appears across her face as if to challenge that statement, you know you have her right where you want her.

“Oh trust me, I know what you’re packing down there.” Minju glances downwards at your erection and your sweatpants are doing a poor job with how it’s about to poke through your pants. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be spending my Friday night here when I could be hanging out with Chaewon and Yujin.” It’s getting dangerous now, her hands traveling down your body and cupping your length through two layers of clothing.

And honestly you might as well be naked now with the way your cock reacts to her touch —your tip is leaking heavily and your breath starts to shorten. “So what’s it gonna be? You can’t tell me you have a different plan for how this night is going to end.” You can’t push back any further, you won’t push back. You take the first dip, lips pressed hungrily onto hers and she takes this opportunity to swing her legs over and straddle you on your couch—the movie in the background is long forgotten and all you care about right now is her.

You straighten yourself up and wrap your arms around her waist possessively; two years of pent up sexual frustration finally coming to an end and you make the most of it. Her lips are everything you’ve dreamed of; soft and sweet and succulent and you can’t help but think about how they slot in with yours perfectly as if you were meant to kiss her all this time. Your hands travel to her face to cup her cheeks, pushing her head deeper into yours and you notice her hands encircling around your back. 

You take a break to catch your bearings, staring deep again at her now lust-filled eyes and you get a front row seat to the facial expression you’ve been dying to see for forever now.  She moans into your mouth when one of your hands slides underneath her dress shirt to feel her smooth skin and the ridges of her abs which itself isn’t a surprise—what is surprising is the lack of bra when you travel further upwards and you come into contact with tits that you are sure is perky and round. “What a fucking slut, Minju. No bra?”

Your suspicions are confirmed when you practically rip the buttons off her shirt and throw it somewhere in your living room and your mouth waters at the sight of her breasts, they are definitely not the biggest you’ve seen but the way they sit on her perfectly shaped body with all of her curves and intricacies is more than enough to make up for it. “What’s the use of wearing one when I knew we were gonna end up like this anyways?” But before you could dive down to taste them you find your shirt being removed as well and the hunger in your eyes is mirrored by the way she’s staring down at your own pack of abs. 

“I mean if I had it my way I would’ve told you to be shirtless already with only your boxers on before I came over but you can’t have everything in life right?” She is as handsy as you, those delicate fingers mapping your chest and your stomach with every little touch as if to decipher where her lips would go later. But you absolutely cannot wait any longer, grabbing her hand and placing it on her sides while you devour her nipples. Taking her left breasts between your lips while massaging the right one and the whimper of your name that escapes her lips is downright sinful while you alternate between the two. 

You lick, slurp, and at times even get your teeth involved—just anything that can get her squirming and writhing on your lap is enough to fuel you. Even more so when she pushes your head deeper into her chest and she’s moaning “more please, fuck” in between whimpers.

Minju is one needy girl and that’s one fact that you find out quickly when she starts to grind on your hips and you can feel just how warm and wet her shorts are. You inadvertently bite on her nipples and she screams your name at the sensation. You utter a “sorry” in response but it doesn’t really matter when she gets off of you and you think you’ve absolutely screwed up. Fucking great. She stands up and you are about to give a more sincere and heartfelt apology but those thoughts are quickly washed away when she removes her shorts and then her panties.

“I want to see that cock. Now.”

You don’t waste a single moment before you proceed to do the same thing to your undergarments and the sight of her fully naked in front of you causes you to leak even more precum with your cock freely exposed to the air. Minju looks hot—which in itself might be an understatement with the way she’s fucking you with those wide eyes of hers, the way her nipples are glimmering under the lights of your living room thanks to your saliva, the way her abs contract with every breath she takes, the way those stocky thighs are slick with her essence. Forget those wet dreams because none of them could match witnessing the actual Kim Minju naked in real life in your apartment.

Minju squeals when you drag her back down towards you to make her straddle your lap again. No more games, no more foreplay, you slowly sink her down your cock and drink in her moans when she buries her face in your shoulder. She is suffocatingly tight, extremely wet but tight and you almost spill mere seconds after finally inserting your entire length inside her. You wince slightly as her manicured nails press into your shoulders and eventually your back. “Fucking—shit—If I only knew—” 

Your pace is slow and methodical, even though you want to just pound her into oblivion and have her screaming to the point your neighbors will complain the morning after. She is Minju after all and she deserves that respect, but as to how long you can control yourself you don’t know. For now, you are content to just have her in your arms and revel in this moment that you’d never thought would ever come. Just feeling how your cock molds perfectly inside her and how her small bunny hops gradually increase over time and her face becomes lost in pleasure is more than enough.

Especially when you feel every inch of her goddess-like body pressed against yours when she arches up to you; her thighs bouncing against yours, her abs grinding against yours, and those breasts pressed against your chest. “—so deep, fuck—harder!” It’s about time you take control and you do just that, you plant your feet to the ground and you grab handfuls of her asscheeks with each hand before thrusting up in time with her thrust and Minju’s gone completely delirious now. 

Gone are the coherent sentences as they are now replaced by expletive-filled chants of pleasure. She’s damn near crying on your cock, tears welling up in her eyes due to pleasure and so you pull her face away to get a glimpse of her sweat-misted face and how her eyes are unfocused. You don’t know what came over you but you feel your heart skip a beat seeing such surreal beauty up close and personal so you pull her in for another makeout session, continuing your long and hard thrusts while your tongue ravages her mouth much like your cock does with her pussy.

“Fucking hell, we should’ve done this sooner.” Another kiss on her lips, then another lick of her nipples—make that two licks, no in fact, you devour them once more. It’s becoming clearer that they’re starting to become your favorite part of her body and it’s completely justified. “ I can’t believe I had to jack off to your pictures when you were just one call away.” The woman in question doesn’t respond but she blushes, the raw honesty of your words is enough to reveal that shy and demure side of her again despite the situation you two are currently in. 

Minju just brushes her hair aside in response while looking away, taking the initiative to bounce on your cock and you let her take over once again. “W-Well I’m here now—“ A particularly hard thrust deep into a certain spot inside her has her clenching around your cock much tighter than usual, you take mental note of this “—I hope I’m as good as advertised.” Of course she is and even better than whatever scenario you were cooking up inside your head, but instead of showing it through words you just smile at her and hope that it’s enough to show your admiration and you let your body do the talking.

You’re noticing how tired she’s becoming being on top so you don’t waste any more time and pick up the pace while still letting her guide the way. It’s silence between the two of you aside from the sounds of passionate lovemaking and that is just enough to push you two closer to the edge. You feel her clench tighter around you again and likewise you can feel your balls throbbing in anticipation too. It’s been a stressful week at work and there’s no better place to unload than inside her welcoming pussy. You’re just as close to her as reaching your orgasm and it’s becoming extremely difficult not to do anything but to burst inside hers. 

Forget the lovemaking, you lift her up by her asscheeks and stand up from the couch and you immediately feel her limbs coil around your body as she gasps at the sensation of being fully seated by your cock. You start to thrust up again, this time more relentlessly without the restrictions of the couch and she’s leaking even more now and you can actually feel her juices stream down your cock and you know she’s extremely close. “D-Don’t stop, please. Don’t you ever fucking stop!” She’s bouncing much higher than before, almost completely unsheathing your length before she crashes back down on it again and now she’s actually crying in pleasure. 

“Hnnghhh! Fuck! I can’t, I can’t—” There was certainly no way she was going to last any longer. “—G-Gonna cum on your cock!” And a few more of those wild thrusts is all it takes to set her off, going limp and forcing you to grab hold of her even tighter so she doesn’t slip off—a task given difficult given how much sweat is emanating both of your bodies but you don’t care especially when all of those juices causes you to slip out of her for a minute and you don’t care about the mess you two are making on the floor at this very moment when you’re about to follow her with your own orgasm. 

“Such a fucking good girl for me, Minju.” You slide back inside her, this time it’s easier thanks to the lubrication she provided and you can’t help but grit your teeth and close your eyes. It’s too much, all of this. What transpired tonight and what it means for your future. It’s all too much to handle and you can’t hold it any longer. You’re about to give her the biggest load you’ve ever given anyone.  “You deserve all of this, I’ve wanted you so fucking bad.“ All she can do is nod as she is still sensitive from her own orgasm but with the way she’s wrapping her arms around you tighter she wants it as badly as you do. “Gonna fucking cum inside.”

“Please! I want your hot—hnggh—I want your cum. Please. When a beautiful woman like her gives you such a permission you don’t waste it, you hold her tight as you begin to pump ropes after ropes of cum in her pussy with every deep thrust. You don’t want to stop cumming, can’t stop cumming—your legs going weak and forcing you to sit down on the couch while you continue to unload deep inside Minju. It feels fucking euphoric, feeling your load drip back down to your cock and balls as that seemed to drain the soul out of you. 

You’ve been holding back from the moment you first saw her all those years ago and there’s no better feeling than this, not even a promotion could rival how addicting having sex with her feels and you want more. You want to continue diving into the ocean that is Kim Minju even if it means drowning, nothing else matters but her.

As if to try to coax more cum out of you, Minju continues to grind her hips while kissing you. This time it’s much more slow and gentle while you lay her on the couch and hover on top of her. It’s beautiful how her hair, though disheveled, cascades down her shoulders and fans out on the cushion below. 

Her limbs are still wrapped tight around you, your softening cock starting to harden while you begin to fuck her once more—you’re making a mess of the couch with how you’re fucking your cam back into her but it doesn’t matter when she’s going to be filled again. “You still have enough cum for me? I’m surprised.” 

You place kisses on her neck this time, making sure to leave marks dark enough that no amount of foundation can conceal it once Monday comes around. Surprisingly she doesn’t protest, perhaps she does want everyone to find out about you two. “Guess I didn’t do a good job of draining you, huh?” You respond by fucking her harder into the couch, feeling the furniture creak and move with every thrust and you render her speechless once again. 

Lean down to capture those bouncing tits in your mouth and continue to work her to another orgasm which wasn’t difficult to accomplish considering how sensitive she still is. It didn’t take long to set you off either and you unload whatever remaining load you have, which is still plenty considering you almost passed out with how much you left inside her just ten minutes ago.

She urges you to sit up on the couch again and she gets off of it to kneel down in front of you before then taking your flaccid cock in her mouth to clean you off. The sight is pornographic, the way she shows off your combined juices on her tongue before making a show of swallowing it all. “Hmm, we taste good together. I don’t mind having some more of that.”

Minju gets off her knees to sit down right beside you and the way her naked body glistens under the natural light outside your apartment is an unparalleled sight that has your heart swooning and doing backflips. “Well, I’m free this entire weekend.” And perhaps shooting your shot when all of this has already happened is quite a ridiculous predicament to be in but you don’t want to be selfish after all. Surely a girl like her has plenty of suitors you’re not aware of and you don’t want to tie her down especially when nothing is official yet.

“I guess I could be convinced.”

Those ten seconds of silence felt like an eternity. But it was all worth it the moment she gives you that smile that makes your heart race even faster. And despite kissing her for what seems like a million times already, this one has special weight. As if to tell the world that the most beautiful woman you have ever known and perhaps will ever know is now yours and there’s nothing that could change that. Screw all of those disgusting old men with their mid-life crisis because your quarter-life crisis just ended in the most satisfying way possible.

You’re embarrassed by the way you whine the moment you don’t feel her lips on yours anymore but you are quickly consoled the moment she stands up and turns around to flaunt that perfectly shaped ass of hers. Suddenly, blood rushes to your cock again as if you didn’t cum twice already. 

“Come on, take me to your bedroom.” Minju eyes you like a piece of meat once again when she pulls you up to your feet. 

“There’s one more hole you forgot to fill.”

[the-tarot-witch22]

Your future spouse late night thoughts about you 18+ - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

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Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

Note : This reading is based on my intuition and channeled messages from tarot cards.

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you guys - The magician, 6 of cups, wheel of fortune and 4 of swords)

Their thoughts about you is quite solemn or like emotional, they are quite a softie when it comes to you honestly, i wanted to give something 18+ for you guys but the energy here is so pure honestly or atleast that's how they wanna start with, i feel they don't want to scare you away just yet, like not much r rated haha, but i will channel everything i can, okay so i feel they are quite in awe or in love, like they want to meet you a hopeless romantic energy, looking at moon asking universe or upper power if they will meet you soon, they want to hurry honestly, I heard "you're mine baby" "no matter whatever you are doing right now, whoever is with you", "i am the one for you hope you know that", they want to kiss you a lot, like every part of you, want you to feel loved and you belong with them, like your body, soul has a name of their engraved on it, that's how much they want you to feel at home, at first they were being quite secretive not opening everything or feelings they have for you but I feel they are trying now, I also feel or heard that they want to push you on bed, tie you up, watch you while they fuck every part of you, they are sweet as hell and as well as horny for you, they want you to watch while you suck them, they want to fuck you deeper so you forget everything but them, They definitely want to put you on pedestal in every way they can, they wanna give you after care, touch every part of you they crave your soul and body, they feel they have knownn you for lifetimes, a literal past life connection here, yet they don't have you, they miss you, your time with them , i heard it's honestly funny "how someone can never meet and yet crave for each other", they wanna lay in your arms relax with you, watch silly rom coms, horror anything you desire, but they want you very badly, "when we meet i will tie you up till you get bored of me" in a very teasing tone, he is quite balanced individual in both his sexual desires and emotional desires.

WoW pile they are quite a romantic, huh? you guys deserve it! they are waiting for you too I feel you will meet them very soon.

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you guys - 5 of swords, 8 of wands, 4 of wands and 6 of swords)

Okay so first thing i feel is very passionate, like they just want to fuck the soul out of you, holy shit, starting with big words and love for you, they are definitely not feel like themselves when they are with you, like they are different person "i cant control my feelings, my desires i have for you" how my body reacts when it sees you, it needs you as much as i do, I also heard i am quite jealous that you are not with me right now, is it because it's a payback for me to meet you late?, i hear them sighing a lot, they want to compete with everyone who has ever been with you even your fictional crushes like they can't make you feel like i do, they are definitely very competitive, their thoughts about you at night is quite filled with lust and desire, i see a scene where they are letting off their steam jerking off with the desire and spark they feel within themselves how they just want you, and only you I also feel they want to be very rough with you like just show you who you belong to, for some of you, you both are into hardcore sex, and they wanna make you cum with their mouth, they want you to sit on them, show that little pretty thing which is wet just for them, they want to tease you a lot too, like not letting you come at first, i feel they want to hear you say "please let me come", i see them smirk a lot, satisfied how much you react to them, "keep running away from me, but you can't go far because our souls are intertwined, my darling" gosh pile 2 they are quite very hungry for you, they want to fuck you all day or night touch you in a way no one ever has, they want you to fuck in the mirror they might want to record these moments for you both so you have special memory of it, more than their pleasure , they want YOU to feel pleasure in a way that no one ever had, they want to use dildo on you such foreign objects, i also feel they want you to wear vibrator while you go out with them, and when they feel jealous they will turn it on, i heard "my dirty little slut".

Wow pile 2 they are quite fiery aren't they, they just had so much to say to you their thought about you is so deep and filled with love and lust. Love it for you guys!

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you guys - 10 of pentacles, 7 of wands, 6 of wands, 5 of cups, ace of swords and 8 of wands)

Okay so first thing I feel is they are missing you like a lot, when i started doing your reading and cards my heart felt sad for some reason they could be yearning you and they definitely want me to tell you "how much your absence in their life is impacting them", they are quite turned on by thought of you, your body is their temple, they want to worship you, they want to feel comfortable with them sexually or non sexually, they just want you to feel at home with them, they are feeling quite lonely without you, i heard "i love her laugh", their thoughts about you is quite desperate, but okay let me channel something 18+ for you, they are quite needy for your body, they want you to touch yourself or you to touch them or their intimate parts, they want to gently fuck you, I feel they are quite sensible or have gentleman thoughts for you. They are quite respectful, i also feel they wanna put efforts while they fuck you, politely touch you like you will break in their arms, they are quite caring, and soft for you and with you. i also feel they would want to or love to suck on you breasts to make you feel very good. They want to hear you scream their name, They think of you as their biggest achievement their prize, that they got for good or past deeds, they also want to be sneaky with you like I see a place where you are both only and emotions are so overflowing that you end up having sex their, a beach at night, or some abandoned or deserted place, their energy is quite calming they even calmed me down, they want everyone to see you belong to them, As I said they could be very sad for you like they miss you, "needing you by their side energy", they want you to know that sex isn't only two people having orgasm its more than that, its filled with love spark, connection, when they think of you all they want is to rest by your side, just be their while you do your own thing, they want you to know they have much more to show you when you guys actually meet! You guys can check out pile 1 too!

Good luck pile 3 xD! Their thoughts weren't much 18+ but more sweet. And I feel it's because they take sex much more seriously or not much openly, so that could be why this pile ended up being sweet lol.

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <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. Stoke 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.”

[luludeluluramblings]

The Tape

Reader and Conner’s sex tape gets leaked…

Based on this…

Warning: Fem!Reader, NSFW themes, no actual smut, pure crack nonsense, fake Twitter post

A/N: @fanfictionlover277353 Heard you wanted some more! Here’s some of my nonsense!

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

"Come on, Babs. Please. I'm begging. Just for a few hours. Two tops." Dick's whining could be heard through out the entire cave. The vibrato of his voice echoing off the rocky walls and stalagmites as he leaned over Barbara's shoulder and played with her hair.

She was currently sitting at the Bat Computer, looking over anything related to the family or incidents in Gotham with strained eyes and an exasperated look on her face.

"I told you, I'm busy-"

"You need a break." Dick interrupted, playing the hypocrite with a grin. "Come on, two hours. We'll watch a movie, you can even pick. No sappy Rom-coms, anything you want. All your choice." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Admittedly, Barbara was tempted, but she let out an indulgent sigh.

"Fine. I'll set up notifications to alert me if anything that needs to get scrub gets posted." She quickly type out a few things on to the computer, having it connected to her phone before Dick whisked her off with way too much excitement.

It was a simple notification system. One that would alert her if anyone's vigilantes identities were mentioned in the media. Unfortunately, it wasn't set up to alert her if anyone's civilian identities were mentioned. That included the family's only civilian member as well.

And, a lot can happen in two hours with the power of the internet and a very interesting topic.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You were having a good day. A very nice day. You had gone out into the world, enjoying the sights and sounds of a mid-morning Gotham. Ignoring the wailing sirens in the distance, by now you had grown used to it.

Dick, Babs, and Alfred where in the manor doing either Bat stuff or sleeping. Damian was visiting Jon. Duke was on patrol. Cass was at dance practice. Bruce was at the Watchtower. Tim was at the Wayne office. Stephanie was your chaperone (stalker) of the day. And, Jason was fuck who knows where.

A peaceful, calm day.

Until you got a Twitter notification and you realized...

"Oh, that's not good. That is really not good." You mutter, watching as the internet burns while you drink your coffee. Not like you could do much else. You still sent a quick text to Conner, just to prepare him while you mentally packed.

You warned him when he suggested filming the two of you making love in the Wayne manor parlor right in front of the fireplace.

You had suggested you’d both go to the mountains and fuck in the wild, but he just had to be kinky and want to do it in the manor. Better lighting he said.

If it wasn’t for the fact that it had been your anniversary and he had pulled out all the stops, you would’ve said no. (It doesn’t matter that he had you literally crying from the pleasure when the two of you had finally finished filming. Nope. Not at all.)

However, that mountain sex might still be on the table. You didn't want to be around when the rest of the family saw that video, so a remote location in the mountains sounded like a decent idea. You’d been wanting to runaway from the manor for a while anyway.

“Hey, Steph, hand me your phone real quick…” Best to probably by yourself some time.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Conner had a tendency to mute his notification on all his socials. Not that he didn't look at what people tagged him in or mentioned him in. He just find it easier to manage.

So when he got a text from you saying to check Twitter, he was a bit puzzled. But, he figured you had seen him tagged in something funny and wanted him to see it too.

Only for the record in his head to scratch when he realized what he had been tagged in.

"SHIT! Shit, shit, shit, shit." Could he get off planet fast enough? This was bad. Not the video. That was good. He may have thrown extra fuel on the fire by liking it and retweeting it on to his official account, but, damn it, was he proud of that. Probably shouldn’t have hired that rando to edit it for him though.

But, yeah, he was about to possibly be the only man ever murdered in cold blood by Batman. It was one thing to fuck his civilian daughter, but filming it in the man’s own home? Yeah, the kryptonite was definitely coming out and getting stabbed into his skull.

"JON! Distract Damian!" Conner yelled out before taking off, knowing that Jon's super hearing would pick up it up. Best get to Gotham and grab you before Batman came after his ass.

There was a nice planet a few solar systems over that you two could have some fun on. Maybe if he was lucky, you could visit that spot in front of the fireplace on last time. He doubted the two of you would get another chance to do it there again.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Jason had actually been at Roy’s that day, having finished some Outlaw business from the night before. Only to be interrupted when Roy suddenly choked on his drink and sprayed it all over him from across the table. Soaking Jason and the papers on said table.

“What the fuck?” He muttered in disgust whipping the dripping liquid off him.

Roy, however, was still choking. Wheezing as he clutched his phone like it was the most precious thing in existence.

“Nothing! Nothing!” Instantly, Roy was trying to back the video up the Cloud and his back up phone. He’s paid for porn with less quality than this and he was not wasting this opportunity before it was scrubbed from the internet.

“Let me see that.” Jason pushed the table and slammed it into Roy’s gut, causing the phone to clatter on to it. A video silently playing on the screen.

A video of two people in a fancy parlor. Doing very intimate things.

Two people Jason knew. In a fancy parlor that Jason knew.

A parlor that Jason had literally sat in three days ago watching the fire in the exact same fireplace.

“Did you fucking save this, asshole?”

“Dude, that is ART!”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Back in the BatCave Alfred had come down to tidy up after resting a bit only to look at the screen in horror. Despite his many skills, socially media escaped him at times.

However he did manage to learn one thing…

“That was what was on my bloody carpet?!”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Tim had been in his office, going over a couple charts when his secretary burst into the room. Stumbling and falling on the floor panting. One of her heels broken.

Normally she was a serious and composed woman, not tolerating any nonsense from him. So this behavior was unexpected and worrisome.

Tim rushed to stand up at help her when she suddenly blurted out, “Leaked sex tape!”

That made him panic. Before confusion hit him.

“Wait, did I film on of those? I don’t remember filming one of those-“

“Your sister! Superboy! PR is going fucking nuts and getting calls. Share prices are fucking increasing because of this!”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

The Justice League Watchtower was in a meeting. Quite a long one judging by the way most of it’s members sitting around the table seemed to be drifting off or subtly scrolling their phones.

Oliver Queen, Green Arrow was one of those people scrolling. Checking over twitter, catching up on the latest gossip. Only to nearly fucking scream in the middle of the meeting when he realized what Superboy had shared on his official account.

Forget man of steel, the kid has damn balls of steel.

Worst yet, the video had been posted for over an hour. A full hour. Almost two. There was no way that was going to be getting scrubbed and forgotten. He’d bet it was in a military archive already with a team of scientist documenting the half-Kryptonian’s dick size right now.

It was an impressively long video. One that Oliver was sorely tempted to watch. But, he didn’t because he knew Batman would actually rearrange his face if he did. Like fist and plastic surgery rearrange it.

So, when he heard Batman’s voice ring out in the meeting, he broke his phone in half to hide the evidence of his discovery.

Only, Batman hadn’t been calling for his attention. He was calling for Booster Gold’s.

“Booster, focus on the meeting. Put that away—“

It was amusing to see Booster get caught with his phone out watching him scramble to shut it off in a panic. Only for it to fall to the ground.

And, the sound to turn on at full volume.

Moans to fill the silent void of the room.

Oliver could only look on in horror when he realized just what Booster had been watching, during a Justice League meeting, and across the table from Batman himself.

“Conner, please, p-please, stop teasing.”

“No, I don’t think I will. You look so pretty like this. All nice and—“

No one moved. Not as they watched Batman literally work through every emotion under that cowl of his and Superman’s face went as white as it possibly could, anguish washing over both their faces when they realized who was in the video booster was watching.

Diana was the only one that stood up and moved to pick up the phone. Everyone held their breaths when she slowly looked down at the screen.

“Quite impressive. You both must be proud.” She said with a slight hum.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I apologize so much for this, but I just was cackling the entire time I came up with this and wrote it. Forgive me y’all! 🙏🏻

A/N: All the Twitter stuff was randomly generated and picked! I’m not good with it, but I added it for giggles!

[reidmarieprentiss]

Unauthorized Documentary 0.5

Summary: Matthew Gray Gubler is filming his untitled documentary, you hate it (not really).

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: fake arguing, fake fighting, mean reader (it's fake)

Word count: 1.6k

a/n: i am rewatching the documentaries right now and i need this man so bad

main masterlist

“I am not Matthew’s girlfriend,” you sighed heavily, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “I have no idea why he keeps telling people that.”

The camera panned slightly, focusing on your expression as the cameraman shrugged nonchalantly. His lack of input only seemed to fuel your irritation.

Turning sharply to face the lens, you stared directly into it with a deadly serious expression. With an intense tone, you declared, “Let me make this absolutely clear for anyone dumb enough to be watching anything about Matthew Garbler — I have never, and will never, date that pathetic freak.”

The silence that followed hung in the air, your words ringing with unapologetic finality.

The camera pulled back slightly, catching more of the chaotic surroundings: a cluttered dressing room filled with mismatched furniture, half-empty coffee cups, and a life-size cardboard cutout of Matthew Gray Gubler in a pirate hat.

From behind the camera, a voice asked, dripping with sarcasm, “So you’re saying there’s no chance for a romantic subplot?”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Romantic subplot? This isn’t some trashy rom-com. This is real life! And in real life, I wouldn’t date Matthew if he was the last human being on this planet. I’d rather marry the cardboard cutout.” You gestured dramatically at the pirate Matthew, who seemed to smirk mockingly at you.

The cameraman snorted. “Right. But you’re still his assistant?”

“I’m his manager,” you snapped, your eyes narrowing. “And don’t you dare forget it. I keep that lunatic’s life from imploding every single day. And what do I get in return? A stupid title on this dumb documentary and people thinking I’m his girlfriend? Unbelievable.”

—

Later, the camera turns on Matthew, his brow furrowed and his expression caught somewhere between confusion and mild panic. “She said what?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

From behind the camera, a voice awkwardly clarified, “Uh, she said she’s not your girlfriend.”

Matthew’s eyes widened for a moment before narrowing slightly. He made a quick hand motion, his tone turning sharp. “Show me the footage.”

The screen jumps back to Matthew as he watches the clip. He forces an uncomfortable laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “She’s so funny,” he says, his voice cracking slightly. “That’s just how Y/N is… she likes to joke around like that.”

The camera slowly pans away, catching you in the background, deep in conversation with one of the producers. Your body language is animated, your irritation still evident as you gestured emphatically.

“Fuck,” Matthew mutters under his breath, the nervousness in his voice escalating. He whirls around, shouting over his shoulder, “Cut that, cut all that!”

Before anyone can respond, he bolts from the set, his hurried footsteps fading as the shot lingers awkwardly on the empty doorway he’s just fled through.

—

While you were giving another uncomfortable interview for the cameraman, the door burst open, and Matthew himself waltzed in, juggling three cups of coffee. “Guess what, everyone! I’ve decided to legally change my name to ‘Gublé,’ like the singer, but with pizzazz. Thoughts? Be honest but supportive.”

You turned to the camera, your mouth slightly agape as if asking the audience for strength. “This is my life.”

“Wait,” Matthew cut in, setting the coffee cups precariously on a stack of scripts. “Did you tell them about us?” His eyes sparkled mischievously.

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of your head. “For the hundredth time, there is no ‘us.’ There never was and never will be!”

“Ah, denial,” Matthew said wistfully, draping himself across the nearest chair like a Victorian maiden. “It’s the first stage of acceptance, you know.”

The cameraman’s voice chimed in again, amused. “That’s grief.”

“Well, I’m grieving her lack of enthusiasm for our undeniable chemistry!” Matthew quipped, pointing dramatically at you before turning to the camera. “Did you catch that? That’s good TV, folks. Make sure you zoom in on her frustration—it’s practically Shakespearean.”

You threw up your hands in defeat. “I’m quitting,” you declared, marching toward the door. “I’m leaving, and I’m never coming back.”

“Wait!” Matthew leaped up, his tin foil cape trailing behind him. “Before you go, do you want one of these coffees? I got your favorite!”

You stopped, turning slowly. “No.”

—

You stormed into Matthew’s trailer, not bothering to knock. He was sitting on the edge of a couch, exaggeratedly flipping through a script as he was recorded, but the moment he saw your expression, his face fell.

“Stop,” you said sharply, pointing a finger at him. “Stop telling people I’m your girlfriend. It’s weird as fuck, Matthew.”

He blinked, momentarily stunned, before awkwardly laughing and setting the script aside. “Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s just for the bit—it makes the show more, you know, engaging.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. “Engaging for who? Because I don’t think the fake audience gives a shit about your fake relationship narrative. And I’m certainly not here for it.”

Matthew shifted uncomfortably, avoiding your gaze. “I mean, technically, it’s not really fake—”

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“Well,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, “we’ve spent a lot of time together. People see that and, you know, assume things. I just… lean into it.”

“You lean into it?” you repeated incredulously. “Matthew, no one is assuming anything. You’re making it up and then selling it like a damn tabloid story!”

He held up his hands defensively. “Okay, okay, you’re right. I’ll stop. I swear. I’ll—” He paused, his eyes darting to the camera peeking through the crack in the door. “Is this… are we filming right now?”

You turned your head sharply to catch the lens disappearing behind the door frame. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Matthew grimaced. “It’s for the show?”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Matthew. Fix it. Now.”

“I will!” he promised, scrambling to his feet. “I’ll tell them it was all a misunderstanding. Like, tomorrow. Maybe.”

“Today,” you snapped, pointing at him one last time before turning on your heel to leave. “Or I’m moving to another continent, got it?”

Matthew sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. I promise. No more telling people we’re together.”

You stared at him for a long moment, your arms still crossed. “You’d better,” you said firmly. “Because if I hear one more person ask me what our anniversary is or how you proposed, I’m going to lose it.”

“Got it,” he said quickly, nodding like a chastised child. “No more fake girlfriend stories. Swear on my vintage ghost-hunting equipment.”

“Good,” you said, heading for the door. But just as you reached for the handle, you turned back one last time. “And for the record? If you ever pull this stunt again, I’ll leak the footage of you crying at craft services over them being out of grape soda.”

Matthew gasped, clutching his chest in mock horror. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” you deadpanned before slamming the door behind you.

Inside the trailer, Matthew let out a long, defeated sigh before muttering under his breath, “She totally loves me.”

—

After the cameras had been packed up for the day and the set was finally quiet, you made your way to Matthew’s trailer. The door was slightly ajar, and you knocked softly before stepping inside. He was mid-way through changing out of his Spencer Reid clothes, tugging off the familiar cardigan with his back turned to you.

“Hey,” you greeted, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

Matthew spun around quickly, his face lighting up with a matching smile the moment he saw you. “Hi, love,” he said warmly, walking over to you without hesitation. His hands found your waist as he pulled you closer. His expression softened as he asked, “Are we okay?” There was a hint of hesitation in his voice, like he was bracing for a blow.

You tilted your head, confusion flickering across your face. “Of course, baby,” you replied, your hand instinctively reaching up to cup his cheek. Your thumb brushed against the slight stubble there as you searched his eyes. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Matthew let out an awkward laugh, his grip tightening slightly as if to ground himself. “You were just... really convincing today,” he admitted, his words tumbling out with a sheepish smile.

“Oh, that?” you chuckled softly, rolling your eyes. “Matthew, you know I have to sell it, or the bit doesn’t land. That’s the whole point, right? It’s supposed to be funny.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, though the nervous edge in his laugh hadn’t quite disappeared. “But for a second there, I thought you actually hated me.”

Your expression softened at his words, and you leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I could never hate you,” you murmured against his mouth. “You’re ridiculous, sure. Annoying sometimes? Definitely. But I love you, even when you make up insane fake-girlfriend narratives.”

A relieved grin spread across his face as he leaned his forehead against yours. “Good,” he said softly. “Because I really don’t want to get in trouble with my real girlfriend.”

You laughed, your fingers threading through his hair. “Well, you’re not off the hook just yet,” you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye. “You owe me dinner for all the grief you caused today.”

“Done,” Matthew replied instantly, his smile turning playful. “But only if you promise not to leak that grape soda footage. My reputation depends on it.”

“Depends on how good the dinner is,” you shot back with a smirk.

“Challenge accepted,” he said, his lips capturing yours again in a kiss that promised he’d make it up to you.

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

tag list <333 @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance @pleasantwitchgarden @alexxavicry @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @criminal-spence @navs-bhat @taygrls @person-005 @asobeeee

[eternalmoonlight18]

Maybe This Time...

Akagami no Shanks x afab!Reader

NEXT CHAPTER

synopsis: You and Shanks were raised together in Roger’s crew. However that was over a decade ago, and now that you reunited with him once again, he doesn’t plan on letting you go.

cw: sfw, childhood friends to lovers trope! fluffy and then angst and then fluffy again in the end… should this be a two part series?! lmk!

a/n: this is not proofread, i just got the sudden urge to write at midnight LOL. real ones will notice that this is based off of a song by the same title, esp if you grew up watching filipino rom com movies!

wc: 2.6k

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It was a cool and calm night as the Oro Jackson gently swayed against the calm waves of the Grand Line. The ship was filled with pirates, dreaming away after a long day of fighting against Marines. Loud snores can be heard echoing through the ship and into the quiet night sky.

A young 12 year-old-girl crawled up to the deck, trying to find a peaceful area to sleep away from the grown men who snored loudly in their bedchambers. She lightly scampered up to the deck and up to the crow’s nest, only to find it was occupied by a boy with red hair, who was leaning up against the pole at the centre of the nest.

The boy heard the scuffling and turned around to see you. He flashed a bright smile that shone with the stars the littered the night sky. You reciprocated as you made your way to sit beside him.

“What’re you doing here Shanks?” you quipped.

“Couldn’t sleep. These geezers snore so loud that one day I think they’ll attract Sea Kings in the middle of the night.” he jokingly said.

Shanks’ comment made you giggle. “Hey, that’s going to be you one day. A loud old man who snores like beast.” you shot at him.

The boy pouted as he crossed his arms. “And you’re going to be a wrinkly old granny who’s going to be all alone.” he retorted.

You stood up and pointed down at him. “That’s not nice!” you whined.

“You literally started it!” he scoffed as he looked up at you.

Before you couldn’t answer back, a sudden light flashed by. You whipped your head around in surprised and ran to the edge of the crows nest and saw a shower of shooting started to decorate the night sky. Gripping the rail of the nest, your breath hitched as you lightly gasped at the sight before you.

“Oh my gods, look Shanks! Shooting stars! Quick make a wish!” you squealed as you jumped up and down in excitement.

The red-haired boy lightly laughed as he got up and made his way beside you. With his arms leaning up against the rail, he watched the light show with you. He turned his head to his left and rested his eyes on you as your attention was focused on the falling stars. As the light continued to shine and fall, Shanks was mesmerized by the sight in front of him. He swore that you were lighting up just like the stars, with your lips pulled back in a genuine smile as your eyes gleamed in excitement. As he continued to observe you, he saw the reflection of the stars in your irises and his breath hitched in awe. An uncomfortable feeling started to churn in his stomach and chest as he felt his eyes soften at the sight of you.

You turn your head to the right to see Shanks staring at you.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” you questioned, noticing the weird expression on his face.

He quickly broke away from the trance that you put him in and pulled his eyes away. He scratched his cheek in embarrassment as a light pink colour started showing up on his cheeks. He shyly glanced back to you and saw that your face plastered with innocence and curiosity.

“You looked funny while you were looking at the shooting stars.” he said in excuse.

The smile that graced your lips fell as you furled your eyebrows in annoyance. “I was making a wish for you information.” you snarked at him.

Shanks hummed. “What did you wish?” he asked.

When he asked the question, your gaze softened as you turned around and faced the sea once more. “I wished to stay forever like this. With Captain Roger and the whole crew, with you and Buggy, forever sailing and looking for adventure.” you sighed.

The boy raised his eyebrow as you confessed. “You’re so cheesy.” he laughed.

Not breaking away from the sight of the vast sea, you hmphed. “Shut up. What was your wish?” you asked back.

Shanks turned around and faced the same direction as he rested his head on his arms. Silence took over as he thought about your question.

“Wishing on stars is for little kids.” he finally spoke. His voice was mixed in with a slight hesitation that you failed to notice.

You lightly punched his left shoulder. “We’re both twelve stupid. We are kids.” you giggled.

The boy laughed with you as the both you watched the shooting stars finally come to an end. Another pregnant paused filled the air until you broke the silence.

“Can you promise me something Shanks?” you quietly asked as you turned your entire body to face him.

“What is it?” he answered as he tilted his head to face you.

You bowed your head, refusing to meet his eyes. Your left foot scrapped the wooden floor as you fidgeted nervously. As courage started to swell in you once more, you raised your head and looked right into Shank’s deep brown eyes.

“You’ll stay by my side forever right?” you shyly and quietly asked him.

“Hah?” the boy gasped in surprise. He stumbled back and started looking away. The pink tinge on his cheeks started to deepen as he glanced back at you. As he found his footing once more, he rubbed the back of his head with his left hand and laughed.

“You’re so silly (Y/n)! Of course I’ll stay by your side. We’re best friends right?” he joyfully replied.

A giggle escaped your lips as you smiled widely at the boy in front of you. Shanks reciprocated the smile as he reached his right hand out. You gladly took it with your left as he pulled you into a hug.

“Don’t ever leave my side okay?” he whispered.

You tightened your arms around him as you buried your head into his right shoulder.

“You’d have to pry my dead body off of you if you want to get rid of me.” you joked.

The light breeze touched the skin of the two friends as they sat back down to watch the stars together.

————-

The rain fell hard as it splattered onto the concrete ground of the town. People were scampering around in chaos mixed with yells and screams. The sky was dark and clouded, reflecting the mood of the area.

You were now 15 years old, and Gold Roger, your captain, was just executed.

You ran across town chasing after Shanks after you saw him run away after your captain was killed in front of everyone. As you maneuvered around the town, you spotted Buggy and Shanks who were standing in front of each other. As you ran closer, you saw that Buggy turned his back from his friend and ran away to your direction.

“Buggy!” you called out as he ran. But he ignored you, running past you in silence. You get a brief glimpse at him and see that his face was painted with a scowl with light tears running down his face.

Your legs continued to move forward as you ran towards Shanks. His head was bowed down with his hands dangling from his sides. As you reached in front of him, he looked up with a heavy expression resting on his face. His eyes were void of emotion as he scanned your eyes.

“Shanks…” you trembled as your emotions caught up to you. The rain started pouring down harder as you and the red-haired 15 year old stared at each other in defeat.

“He’s gone…” he muttered quietly.

“I know Shanks, I know.” you choked as hot tears started to pour down from your face.

The boy’s lips started to frown as he watched you cry. As your sobs grew louder, you crouched down in a fetal position, burring your face into your arms as you continued to cry. Shanks’ resolve slowly started to crumble as he tried to choke back sobs that was threatening to escape his throat. Lifting his right arm up, he tried to reach out to you, but drew back in hesitation. He turned his head to the side as he started to speak.

“I’m going.” he said plainly.

Your head shot up. With glossy eyes, you stared at your red-haired friend. “Then take me with you.”

“No.” he said curtly.

“What? What do you mean no?” you started to raised your face as you rapidly got up from the ground. “Shanks, you promised me that we’d stay together!”

In that moment, he gripped the handle of his sword so tight, that white started to appear on his knuckles. Shanks lowered his head, allowing the raindrops that fell on his straw hat to drip down onto the concrete ground.

“I’m going back to the Grand Line on my own. You should stay here, or somewhere, away from the seas.” he said.

More tears started to stream down your face as you walked up to him and shook his shoulders. “What nonsense are you talking about?! Who are you to tell me to not go back to the sea? Shanks you promised me that you wouldn’t leave me!” you wailed.

The red-haired boy swatted your hands away from shoulder and started to back step away from you. Your eyebrows scrunched in disbelief as you watched him slowly turn around and walk away from you.

“Goodbye Y/n.” he said as he walked away in the rain.

“No!” you screamed at him. “No Shanks don’t leave me!” you yelled. Your calls were futile has he continued to walk away, not looking back.

You didn’t understand. Why did everything you have get ruined?

You clutched your chest as you fell to your knees, not caring that the impact of the fall banged up your knee caps.

The only thing that could be heard was the bloodcurdling scream of Shanks’ name echo throughout Loguetown.

—————

You come face to face with the man you vowed to never see again.

It’s been fifteen years since you last seen Shanks at Loguetown. You’re now 30 years old and working as a Pirate Hunter. You were docked at a remote island for a two days and was heading back to your small ship before you found yourself facing the man who left you crying in the rain.

He was now a full grown man, taller, stronger, with three scars slashed on his left eye, and missing a left arm. His signature straw hat was also missing from his head.

Shanks didn’t expect to see you in front of him either. Looking down at you, he saw that you were now a full grown woman. But he knew that it was still the same old you, the same best friend he had.

And he knew that you still held a grudge against him.

You glared at him, then attempted to walk past him without saying a word before he spoke up.

“It’s good to see you Y/n.”

Ignoring his greeting, you made your way to your ship at the sanded beach. Hauling a sack at your back, you threw it over your shoulder and onto the boat as you prepared to leave the island.

The red-haired man pulled up next to your boat and watched as you prepared your sails. In the distance, his crew watched curiously as their captain followed this mysterious woman.

“Out of the way red-haired.” you snarled. You glance down at the man and threw a sour expression his way. He smiled back.

“You’re the same as always.” he sighed.

“You have some nerve pretending everything is good between us.” you snapped at him.

Shanks ran his one good hand through his red locks and laughed. “You got me there. But it’s been 15 years Y/n. I’m sure we can put grudges away hm?” he said lightly.

An apple flew at his direction, but unsurprisingly he caught it.

“Shut the fuck up.” you growled. Before you could throw a bigger item at him, your ship suddenly splintered into pieces as a cannonball hit it. You flew out and landed on the sand. It seemed that the pirates you were chasing after caught you off guard and tried to shoot you down.

Shanks quickly tried to help you up from the ground while you sputtered the sand out your mouth. Realizing that he was holding onto your right arm as he hoisted you up, you shoved him away from your side.

“Don’t touch me.” you lowly said.

“You should come in my ship. Those guys are coming for your head.” he replied. He saw that the pirates that shot down your ship were running your direction.

“No.” you muttered as you attempted to limp away from him and the enemy. But this time, Shanks hoisted you up and threw you over his right shoulder like a bag of potatoes. Startled, you started to flail around as he started to make his way to the his ship.

“Yo! Get ready to sail!” he called out to his crew.

“Put me down you ogre!” you yelled as you attempted to punch his broad back. You swore you could feel Shanks grin as he ignored you.

“No can do Y/n! I’m not leaving you this time!” he cheerfully spoke.

You continued to wrestle against Shanks’ tight grip on the back of your legs. Once he climbed on the ship, he gently placed you down on the desk. As soon as your bum hit the floor, you scrambled to get off, only the find that the ship had already sailed away from the island.

“You asshole!” you screamed. Whipping your head to see the infuriating red-haired man shooting a smile your way. “Get me off this ship right now!” you demanded.

He simply shrugged. The his whole crew was now up on the deck, laughing at your suddenly burst of anger.

“No can do, unless you wanna sail to your death on your own out there.” Shanks answered smugly.

Stomping towards Shanks, you jab a finger into his chest as you snarled at him. “You fucking kidnapped me! You had the nerve to show your face after fifteen years and kidnap me onto your ship! You’re a lunatic Red-haired!” you shrieked.

Shanks’ chest rumbled with laughter, with the rest of the crew following suit. He placed his hand onto your right shoulder as he stooped down to your left ear.

“Well, I’m here now to keep that promise we made hmm?” he lowly purred in your ear. The man pulled away and raised his eyebrow in amusement as he saw your face turn red. A deep frown was plastered on your lips as your eyebrows furled in anger.

The palms of your hand collided with his sturdy chest as you shoved him away from you. You stomped away to the other side of the gigantic ship, not wanting to come in contact with your former friend at all.

“Y/n!” he called out to you as he watched your back walk away. He grinned widely as you twisted your upper body to shoot up a middle finger at his direction.

By the gods above you were back in his life, and it somehow felt just right. Maybe this time, his wish would come true.

“What did you wish for?” he recalled your 12 year old self asking him.

“For you to be my partner in this lifetime.” he finally admitted to himself, 18 years after that one fateful night when he fell in love with you.

This time he would make things right with you.

[starkeyisthelastname]

I need to see some soft moments with Step Dady!Rafe. Does he comfort her after a nightmare? Does he let her cuddle him when they're watching a movie?? I'm literally starving for some soft!step daddy.

Don't get me wrong tho, I still very much love and thirst over our regular Step Dad!Rafe.

(That’s his princess. 🎀😩)

There was no question that Rafe handled you when you were acting like a brat. Bending you over his desk until your ass cheeks were red. He would make you take his dick until you were crying out daddy when you’d bat your eyelashes at some sucker that complimented the too short of skirt you had on. Not to mention his stalker like tendencies he had on you anytime you’d go out. You were his princess though and too fucking pretty for him not for him to have a soft side for you.

When there was a storm, he’d make his way to your room knowing you hated the loud thunder and bright lightening. He would lay next to you in the overly pink bed, letting you rest your head in the crook of his neck to hide from the weather outside. “It’s just a little thunderstorm babydoll.” He would whisper in that naturally raspy voice, muscled arms around your smaller frame.

He wasn’t a fan of sitting there watching movies, especially ones that were girly. You had asked so sweetly though, and taken a good pounding earlier. There he was, your mother gone and sitting on the couch as you laid your head in his lap as the 2000s rom com played. He was bored, his focus on you as his large hands ran up and down your body. “Got me fucking pussy whipped, don’t you princess?” His voice soft as he squeezed your fleshy hip in a ringed hand.

A rare occurrence was when Rafe kissed you. It wasn’t something he did often, always feeling like that was too intimate. There you were though, upset because you couldn’t go with him on his business trip. You had been sulking all day, tears threatening to spill as time got closer to him leaving. Ward had rushed this trip onto him, that he didn’t even have time to give you a proper goodbye. So when he saw you sitting on the back of his truck, swinging your legs with a pout on your glittery lips, he sighed.

“I gotta leave, alright?” His voice firm as he motioned for you to get up.

“You weren’t gonna tell me bye?” You sniffed, arms crossing over your bare midriff as you looked up at him through thick lashes. You sat still, not budging as he threw his bag into the backseat only to walk over to you after.

“What do you want from me, kid? I can’t give you dick right now.” Rafe said, coming to stand between your spread thighs as he cupped your cheeks together. “Hmm, you gonna stop acting like a brat?” He asked, a silent warning for you to quit or he wasn’t going to make it out of town.

You let out a little huff, looking at his handsome face as you tugged at the dress shirt he wore. “Kiss me.” You mumbled.

Rafe let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he gripped your chin roughly. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your glossy lips. He didn’t do this often, so when he did you completely melted. Your tummy dancing with butterflies, a grin across your face as he pulled back. “That better princess?” He asked, voice almost catching in his throat as something about kissing you made him feel funny. (In a good way.)

Rafe Cameron had it down bad for his stepdaughter.

[honeekyuu]

take the edge off. [suna rintarou x f!reader] chapter one.

>>You struggle with your weight and body image, but Suna extensively and thoroughly undoes all the damage done by other guys.

or

You haven't gotten laid in over a year, and your best friend takes it upon himself to fix that for you.<<

series status: [complete]

masterlist. || next.

a/n: suna has two brain cells that rub together like little housefly hands when it comes to yn and literally at no other point

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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

“You know what’s crazy? I haven’t gotten laid in, like, a year.”

Looking back, there was absolutely no need for you to admit that.

But right now, there’s a bottle of wine in your system, and you’re about halfway through a trashy rom-com on a Friday night. It’s not shy on mature scenes, either, which is why you’d said it, your eyes trained almost wistfully on the screen as the two leads stumble through the girl’s front door together and get straight to business.

And it’s only Suna here, also a bottle of wine deep. He won’t judge you for saying it, not when there’s over ten years of moments far worse than this, very securely tying you two together.

He is, however, far more scandalized by your words than you’d expected.

Suna flies up from his sprawled position on your couch, kicking his legs off the coffee table as he turns toward you.

“I beg your most genuine pardon?” He asks, jaw dropped as he stares. You laugh into your wine glass, incredibly tickled and very tipsy.

“You heard me,” You answer, nodding pathetically. His eyes bug out of his head, and you’re glad he’s intoxicated enough to be reacting to this with his most authentic self, the one that’s kind of an idiot and about 150% more expressive than any of your friends could ever peg him to be. 

“A year ?!” He yells, dragging it out annoyingly. “There’s no fucking way, Y/n. No fucking way.”

“Tell that to my dry spell, Sunarin,” You laugh again, shaking your head. “I’ve gotten to know my fingers and also my vibrator rather intimately.” 

You certainly would not have admitted that while sober, but Suna’s just as gone as you are, not skipping a singular beat as he slumps in place.

“That’s so fucked,” He groans, dropping his head to his hands. “This has to be illegal – this is cruel and unusual punishment. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“Well, believe it,” You snort, pointing at the ongoing sex scene on the TV. “A year without rain, truly.”

“But why ?” He laughs pathetically, shaking his head as he turns fully to you and leans against the side of the couch. “ Why ?” 

“I don’t know-” You shrug, waving your hand over your own body sarcastically. “Maybe it’s got something to do with this?”

You watch as he drags his gaze down the length of your body slowly, following the trail of your hand. He shakes his head afterward, finding your eyes with unspoken confusion.

You scoff, lifting your glass to him in acknowledgement. “That’s funny.”

“What?” He tilts his head. “What’s your body got to do with it?”

You look down at yourself, wondering if you’d magically become attractive overnight. 

No, still the same. Thighs too thick, a tummy that pushes against your clothes and bunches up into little rolls, stretch marks and cellulite and all the lovely things guys hate to look at.

You’d always been a bigger girl. Food had been a happy place, a place of love and care. Ice cream dates with your dad after school, dinners out with your parents on weekends. Standing in your kitchen at the house in Hyogo – the childhood home that had come with the open doors of your neighborhood friends running in and out to play and snack on your mom’s cooking – and learning the family recipes, listening to your mom’s stern but warm guidance as she’d told you ‘ Do it this way instead, don’t add too much salt ’, the crickets buzzing loudly just outside the window.

High school had made food into a more complicated matter, because it had come with girls who’d poke fun at your uniform, bigger than theirs and still tighter than you were comfortable with. It had come with crushes on boys who would only talk to you to get information about other girls, girls who were worth their time. It had come with a strained relationship with your mother’s cooking, once so safe and kind and pure. You’d tried just about every diet known to man, and nothing had ever worked. 

You’re in a place now where you’re just happy to be able to enjoy food to its full extent, whatever the cost. Good food in the body is more healing for the soul than starving and then binging and then starving again, viciously repeated. You fully believe this, and your mental happiness is the best it’s been in a long time, 26 years old and focused only on feeding yourself with good, clean ingredients and going to bed happy. 

But it had taken a lot to get here, and you’re still recovering from the damage.

Luckily, high school hadn’t been all bad. In fact, Inarizaki High had had a weird way of changing your life. Boys and girls, nameless and faceless now, had ignored you and passed you over, only noticing you so they could use you – their personal entertainment, someone had admitted once. 

But they’d also flocked to and thrown themselves at the feet of the most popular boys in school, vying for attention. The Inarizaki High Boys’ Volleyball Club.

The team was nearly legend, despite being just a group of regular teenage boys. Each player had his own group of fans, all unhinged in their own ways. The worst, unsurprisingly, were the girls attached to Miya Atsumu.

When he’d been assigned as your deskmate at the beginning of 2nd year, you’d felt a deep sense of dread. Would he make fun of you, too? If he did it, the entire school would be pelting insults at you by the end of the week. Would his fangirls start targeting you in worse ways, in the bathroom and during lunch?

But he’d been shockingly kind. Not a word uttered about your appearance or the things you’d eat. But not ignoring you like most boys do, not passing over you like he hadn’t even seen you. 

He’d sat down that first day with a bright grin and a hand stuck out in your direction, all but yelling in your ear that it was nice to meet you and asking why he hadn’t met you before, his drawl heavier than your other classmates’ and a bit endearing, even on first meeting.

‘ I’m a bit forgettable ,’ You’d admitted quietly, but he’d just shot you a strange side glance.

‘ Says who? That ain’t nice. ’ 

You hadn’t known what to do with that.

You hadn’t known what to do with any part of Miya Atsumu, really. Not the daily greetings, screeched down the hall the moment he’d see you. Not the notes he’d pass to you during class, badgering you to become the Volleyball Club’s manager so you could become better friends. Not the way he could always kind of tell if you were upset by something someone said, because he would somehow become even louder after the fact, distracting you via sheer ear damage.

Not the way he’d become cold and detached the first time he’d actually witnessed someone bullying you, the way his bright eyes had dulled into nothing and held no guilt as he’d made a girl cry in front of the whole class.

‘ I don’t want to switch seats with you, ’ You’d told her, shaking your head. ‘ This is the one assigned to me- ’

‘ I don’t give a fuck, ’ She’d spit at you, pointing at her own desk, piled high with snacks from the vending machine. ‘ I left you a trail of food, little piggie – go follow it so that I can sit with Atsumu and give him something good to look at- ’

‘ Somethin’ good, huh? ’ He’d materialized just beside you, staring at the girl emptily. You’d almost been scared of the look in his eye. ‘ And who’s s’posed to give me that, you? ’ He’d cast a cursory glance over her, looking entirely unimpressed. ‘ You look like you couldn’t get through a single conversation with me.’

You’d gasped, eyes wide and watching as he’d flopped down into his chair and thrown his legs up on the desk, forcing the girl to scurry back from where she was leaning threateningly over you. He’d hummed, assessing her through narrowed eyes. ‘ You look like an only child. You an only child? You look it- Oh, no, I got it-’ And then he’d clapped, laughing brightly and nudging you, as though you weren’t frozen in shock. ‘ Don’t she kinda look like a girl you wouldn’t introduce t’your parents? Sure as shit not mine, at least.’  

The girl had long started tearing up, the entire room watching in varying degrees of horror as Atsumu had just pulled a wrapped onigiri from his bag and offered it to you. He’d shot the girl a look of disdain when she’d started wailing, because Miya Atsumu was sharing his lunch with you, the girl that was forgettable.

‘ Yer makeup’s running, just so you know, ’ He’d state plainly, pointing up at her. ‘ My mom’s always talkin’ bout gettin’ waterproof shit- ’ He’d turned to you, eyes wide. ‘ You know ‘bout that waterproof stuff? Mascara, er whatever? ’

‘ I-’ You’d shaken your head. ‘ I don’t wear makeup, I don’t know- ’

He’d grinned in your face, eyes beaming in that bright way again, the way that you’d thought was guaranteed. You hadn’t realized how safe you’d found that brightness before now. ‘ You don’t wear makeup?’ He’d leaned back with a smirk, drawing the final line for everyone to hear and making it clear that you were not to be fucked with again. ‘ Naturally pretty, then. That’s how I like my girls. ’ 

The rest of high school had been a surreal experience. 

You were impossible to pass over now, because everyone knew who you were. Girls were still cruel, but only in private, where Atsumu couldn’t see. Boys would still mention your weight, but only the ones who were rejecting your quiet confessions, and even then, they’d tried their best to deliver it politely.

Atsumu had never been more than a friend, of course, but he’d been a good one. The best one, really, considering that not even a few weeks into knowing you, his brother would regularly have to physically tear him away from you so they could make it to practice in time.

‘ I’m talkin’ here, Samu! We’re chattin’! ’ 

‘ Save it, fucker, we got shit to do! ’ 

You’d always found Osamu a bit easier to digest as a personality, and you’d hit it off right away – He’d been reading a magazine about baking when you’d met, and you’d mentioned wanting to try the cake on page 12, because you had the same one at home. He’d taken to you like a baby bird, asking you to try the random rolls and cakes and breads he would make at home. You’d been so shocked the first time he’d shoved a banana roll in your face that you hadn’t thought to consider calories or sugar or carbs or any of it. You’d just taken a bite and then spent the rest of the free hour taste-testing it again and again, using every ounce of your brain power to help him figure out what was perfect and what need improving.

But, if you were honest, you’d been more comfortable in the presence of his twin, in the tornado of genuine and terrifying care that was Atsumu. He’d always been honest and tactless, and – on the days when someone was unfortunate enough to have been caught saying something to you – he was cruel and mean and terrible, brutal without remorse. But he was your first ever best friend, exasperating personality and all.

And the only person worse than Miya Atsumu, really, was Suna Rintarou.

Your lunch breaks, originally alone and then suddenly with Atsumu, were even more suddenly shaken with the introduction of the VBC. To Aran and Kita and – crucially – to Suna, whose snarky demeanor and lack of a social filter was well-known by the time he’d flopped down into the seat in front of yours.

Suna, whose usual reaction to girls approaching him at lunch was to mumble ‘ Fuck off, please ’ lazily, through a mouthful of food and without ever looking up from his phone.

Suna, whose introduction to you had come with him pointing at your chopsticks, halfway to your mouth, and quietly asking ‘ Can I try that ?’ about your mother’s spring rolls. He’d leaned over the moment you’d stuttered a response – taking a huge bite right off of your chopsticks, even though you’d just met the boy 30 seconds prior – and then trading you some of his own mother’s cooking in return, half a rice ball set casually in your container.

Suna, who’d pried your phone from your slightly terrified fingers and entered his number, a steady stream of memes and YouTube videos buzzing in your pocket from that moment on.

Suna Rintarou, who wouldn’t only say something when he’d catch someone else being explicitly rude to you. He’d say something if someone even looked at you the wrong way or whispered to their friend in a way that he didn’t like.

‘ You got a problem? ’

‘ Something you wanna share with the class?’

When he’d come around the corner and find someone making pig noises in your direction or laughing at how your uniform fit-

‘ Were you not loved enough by your mother?’

‘Have you ever thought of seeking professional help?’

And when one boy had pushed at your shoulder – just a prod of his fingers, but rude all the same – you’d felt Suna’s presence more than heard it, a sudden chill hovering at your back.

‘ Apologize – on your knees – before I break that hand.’

The boy had hesitated, but he’d dropped to the floor soon after, because Suna had taken a step toward him. He’d muttered that he was sorry, and then repeated it louder when Suna had crouched beside him and whispered ‘ Again – like you mean it this time’ while smiling down at the hand he’d just threatened to break. 

You’d been properly scared of Suna Rintarou for some time after that.

He’d noticed, his eyes following you in every room you’d walked into, an amused smirk on his lips.

He’d skipped practice one day to walk you home, hands in pockets as he’d trailed after you. No words had been shared, but he’d walked you home the day after, and then again. Atsumu had yelled at him for missing practice on the fourth day, so he’d started showing up in the morning instead, leading you quietly to school.

It had been raining one morning, about a week later, and you’d been rushing around your room to get ready, wondering if Suna would even bother to wait in the rain for you. Wondering when you’d started expecting him to be there. 

You’d looked out the window, almost 45 minutes before you’d usually leave, and found him there. Under an umbrella, leaning on the gate and scrolling through his phone. You’d gasped, scrambling down the stairs with your mismatched pajamas and bedhead and yanking the door open.

‘ Suna Rintarou! ’ You’d scolded, and his head had popped up in surprise. It was the first time you’d properly addressed him during one of these morning walks.

‘ Get your ass in here! ’ 

He’d lifted his brows but listened right away, pocketing his phone and passing through the gate to your front door. Your mother had stuck her head out into the hallway, shocked at your tone.

‘ Who- ’ She’d started, but you’d just gestured in annoyance at the boy standing in your foyer trying to find a place to put his umbrella. You’d snatched it from him and leaned it on the door.

‘ This is Suna. Suna, my mom,’ You’d grumbled, realizing the state of yourself when Suna had just stared at the mess on your head and then pursed his lips to hide a smile.

‘ Oh, the stalker boy! ’ She’d clapped excitedly, and you’d barked out a laugh at Suna’s face of horror.

‘ I-No, I’m not-’ He’d stuttered, and you’d saved him by leading him to the living room.

‘ She’s just messing with you. You sit here and wait while I get ready ,’ You’d pointed at the couch and then disappeared upstairs, hurrying even more than before.

When you’d come back down, your mother had been urging him to the table to eat. He’d followed, clearly feeling out of place. 

You’d eaten with him while your mom had been preparing a second bento, loudly exclaiming from the kitchen that athletes should eat more than three times a day. He’d just smiled gratefully and then eyed you, mumbling ‘ I liked your pajamas’ under his breath and snickering when you’d tried to swing at him from across the table.

It had been monumentally humiliating when, as you were pulling on your shoes, your mother had pulled him aside and very conspicuously thanked him for looking out for you.

‘ You’re such a nice boy, taking care of my girl. Kids can be so mean .’

You’d stood with Suna’s umbrella in hand, glaring at him over your mom’s shoulder, because he’d looked way too pleased with himself. He’d followed you out, forced to run as you’d stalked off into the torrential downpour with his umbrella. He hadn’t said anything for a while, just holding the umbrella and walking beside you for most of the journey. But just as the school had come into view, he’d smirked down at you and said-

‘ You told your mom about me .’

You’d run the rest of the way to school, preferring to sit all day in wet clothes over finishing that conversation. 

You’d been forced after that to get used to Suna’s voice in your living room while you’d dressed for the day, and then the knock on your front door after practice, your mother sending him up to your room to lounge on your floor and copy off your homework. 

You hadn’t been able to get rid of him, and more than ten years had passed just the same, college finding him more often in your dorm room than his own and post-grad life finding the two of you and the Miya twins in Osaka. Atsumu had been recruited to the Black Jackals, and Suna had opened a tattoo shop, practicing on himself through college until his skin had been covered in ink and a deposit had been put down on a small shop space not too far from your apartment. 

You had formed a kind of soul-bond with Osamu over all things food-related, even with your own strained relationship with it, and you’d co-signed on an empty shop across the street from the Jackals’ home gym. You’d opened a cafe on one side, your culinary degree put to use on an extensive knowledge of coffees and teas, and Osamu had set up a bakery on the other side, the two of you decorating cakes and testing recipes for hours after closing time. Your shared shop had seen wild success, both due to your talents and due to being located in a tourist and sports enthusiast hotspot.

You’d each had your various failed relationships throughout the years, Atsumu currently in the midst of a secret situationship with Sakusa Kiyoomi, and Osamu crushing rather pathetically on Hinata Shouyou’s friend Yachi Hitoka, who runs a flower shop down the road. You’d become friends with her, at first to subtly put in a good word for Samu, but now mostly because she’s likely to appear at your counter at least twice a day to hang out and try the special of the day.

Suna had had a few short flings with girls in the area, one a model-beautiful blonde who’d, offhand in the middle of your cafe, offered to be your ‘gym buddy’, should you want one. She’d been dumped on the spot, Suna going so far as to pluck the iced latte from her hand and pour it out inside her purse while holding eye contact with her. 

The girls after her had been equally beautiful, but he’d always find something about them that was unacceptable after a few weeks. This one too loud and bossy, that one too quiet and submissive, the other one too everything , as he’d put it. He’d never been happy with any of them, and you could only watch with bemusement and shake your head, brushing it off as being one of the many things about Suna that you wouldn’t try to understand.

All of your boyfriends – a total of three in the five years you’d all been in Osaka – had similarly found something wrong with you. It had always been the same thing, and you’d known it. You’d known it in the way their eyes would linger on other girls or the way they’d be less affectionate in public, less willing to hold your hand or put their arm around you.

You’d known it in the way Suna had hated every one of them, hands left unshaken during introductions and green eyes watching how you’d interact with them.

You’d always broken things off first, finding it a bit funny that they would get mad at you for it, as though they hadn’t just been swiping on dating apps when they thought you weren’t looking. Always mad at you for putting yourself first, because they thought themselves above you and couldn’t believe you thought you’d find better than them.

That’s why you’re sitting here now, on this Friday night with a bottle of wine in your system, wondering how Suna Rintarou is not understanding why your appearance is the barrier between you and breaking your dry spell. After everything , he’s not understanding.

“Dude, you clearly know what my body has to do with it,” You laugh. “You met my exes.”

“Well, yeah-” He waves you off. “But they were morons, so I don’t count them.”

“I feel like you probably should, since they have the majority opinion on girls like me,” You smile, taking another sip of wine.

Suna laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t think you’ve been fucking with the right dudes, if you think those losers were representative.”

“Do you see guys lining up outside my door?” You offer with a bemused smile. He flops against the couch, sighing.

“I cannot believe it’s been a whole year. There’s no way- Not a single one-night stand?” He tries, almost desperate to figure this out. You just shake your head. “ Why ? Where the hell are you lookin’ for ‘em?”

You laugh wholly, reaching to put your glass down and turn back to the movie. “It’s fine, dude. I was just making a passing comment-”

“Nuh-uh-” He crosses his arms over his chest, nearly pouting. “We gotta get you laid. I’ve become invested in this.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, ignoring him. He nudges you with his foot. 

“Let’s find you someone at Miya’s party.”

You groan, laughing a bit. The Black Jackals had recently had a home game, one where they’d positively obliterated the opposite team and subsequently sent hundreds of cheering fans into your shop after the match. Atsumu had invited a hoard of people to his penthouse to celebrate tomorrow night. You’d already planned to try finding someone, but it’s a bit worrying that Suna’s involved now.

“Okay, you don’t have to get so invested. I’ll try tomorrow, I promise.”

“Nope, I’m invested. This is happening. You’re getting laid tomorrow – it’s been decreed.” 

You salute him lazily, mumbling ‘ If you say so’ and going back to the movie.

–

When Suna picks you up the next night, he’s frowning down at you.

“What is this, what are you wearing?”

You’re taken aback, looking down at yourself. You’d chosen a cute red dress and thrown a cardigan over it – you look fine.

“What about it?”

“No, no, no-” He marches into your apartment, hands on your shoulders as he leads you to your room. “What is this nice girl shit? Take this off-” He pushes your cardigan off your shoulders, wrestling you out of it. 

You cross your arms right away, a bit self-conscious. It’s a dress with thin straps, and you’re not happy with how your arms look in it. “I wanna wear something over it, though.”

“Oh, that’s fine, sure,” He starts, poking his head into your closet and knocking clothes around. “Except that this is a party, not a church retreat. You’re not wearing the sweater or the dress.”

“But this is my best-” You start, but Suna’s seeing something all the way in the back and reaching for it, eyes bright.

“A- ha! ” 

You groan, because he’s pulling out the single sleeveless dress you own. It’s a body-hugging, little black number, one that you’d bought online when you’d been feeling particularly confident. It still has the tag on it.

“I dunno, Suna-”

“Just put it on and lemme see,” He thrusts it at you, and then he’s gone, leaving you with an outfit you would never have chosen.

You put it on, staring into your mirror with a grimace. The dress is too tight – your hips are too wide, your thighs too on display. Your boobs are too big, making the material stick to your chest in a way you don’t like.

“I don’t know,” You call. “I don’t like it.” You start to reach for the zipper to remove it, since you have no intention of showing Suna. But he’s bursting into the room, a loud ‘ I’m coming in-’ warning you with enough time to not unzip the dress.

He stops short, a pair of black heels swinging from his fingers – apparently, he’d been digging through your collection of shoes at the door for good ones. They dangle at his side, his eyes trained on your body. You watch in the mirror as he drags his eyes down the length of you and then back up, his lips parted in a way you don’t understand.

When he meets your eyes, he snapping his mouth shut and swallowing, ears turning a bit red. You frown, taking it to mean that he’s seeing too much. 

“Okay,” You sigh, turning to usher him back out. He blinks rapidly and backs up. “Go. I’ll find something else.”

“What?” He stops, not letting you push him anymore. “No, you’re wearing that.”

“Suna-” You laugh, planting your hands on his chest and trying to get him out. “I look ridiculous.”

“No, you don’t.” He shakes his head, steady against you. “You’re wearing that. You look really good.”

You blink, confused. “What? Did you see what I saw?”

“I saw the exact same thing you saw. You’re wearing that.”

“Dude, no-”

“Yes-” He cuts you short, rounding you and pushing you out toward the living room. You shake your head, trying and failing to go back. “Stop arguing with me.” He puts the heels in your hand and disappears to the table for your purse. You stand in front of the mirror by the door, turning this way and that to look at yourself. You don’t see what he’s talking about.

He comes to stand behind you, and you examine him, too. He’s got on black jeans and a silver belt, with a black tee tucked into his pants and a thin chain hanging loosely around his neck. There’s a long-sleeve shirt thrown over it, and his lip ring and heavily pierced ears glint in the light. His hair hangs low over his eyes, and he lifts a hand to push it back. He’s wearing a silver bracelet you’d gotten him a few years ago for Christmas, your matching one sitting in your jewelry box.

He looks really fucking good.

You sigh angrily. “I cannot be seen with you.”

He just lifts a brow. “Problem?”

You examine him again, pointing at his reflection. “Take your top shirt off. Lessen the whole… punk-rock, skater-boy vibe, please.”

He grins, handing your purse over and then stripping, the long-sleeve tossed carelessly toward your couch.

You roll your eyes. His black tee is tight on his biceps, and all his tattoos are on display. 

“That’s great. That’s really great.”

“What?” He laughs, and you just shake your head, bending down to put your heels on.

“You look like an entire meal, feeding women everywhere, and I look like a sausage roll.”

He doesn’t answer, and you glance at the mirror, finding his eyes trained very obviously on how you’re bent in front of him, both eyebrows lifted just slightly.

“Are you staring at my ass?”

“Huh?” He jumps, blinking. “What’d you say? Sausage roll?”

You stand, leveling him with an empty glare. “Don’t force yourself, Sweetheart. I committed to the outfit already.” 

He shakes his head, looking a bit dazed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But you most certainly don’t look like a sausage roll.” He follows after you as you turn off the lights and leave the apartment, waiting behind you while you lock the door. “ Like a present that desperately needs unwrapping, maybe ,” He mumbles under his breath.

You pause, key in the door, and look over your shoulder at him with a brow raised in amusement. “What are you doing, Suna?”

He blinks lazily at you. “Honestly? Regretting that dress.”

You roll your eyes and pull the key from the lock, following him down the hall to the elevator while he shakes his head with a small sigh.

“Whatever. What time should we come back?”

He laughs, hitting the button on elevator panel that’ll lead to his car. “I thought we agreed. Not until you’ve been fucked stupid.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you at his wording. “I think that was just you decreeing things. I’m a bit more realistic.” You smile mockingly up at him, and he nudges you as you walk through the parking garage. 

“You’ll find someone.”

You start to argue, but you see where he’s parked, and you’re not happy.

“You didn’t bring your car.” 

He leads you toward his motorcycle, tossing you a curious look over his shoulder. “Nope. Bike’s easier to park on the street.”

You gesture down at yourself angrily, snatching up the helmet he’s handing you. “I cannot sit on a motorcycle with my legs spread in this dress.”

He smiles, glancing down at your thighs. “Why? Not wearing anything under?”

You smack him with the helmet. He just throws a leg over the bike and holds a hand out for you. You do your best not to flash him as you hike a leg over the seat behind him. 

Suna waits for you to adjust and re-adjust the dress until you’re sure you won’t be giving anyone a show on the way there. But when you put on the helmet and pat his shoulders to signal that you’re ready, he reaches back and wraps both hands around your thighs, dragging you closer to his back. You scream, slapping his hands, but he just pulls your arms around his waist.

“Gotta make sure you’re safe and sound,” He says, muffled through his helmet, but you can still hear the laugh in his voice.

“I hate you,” You state loudly. He just kicks the bike into life with a snicker.

The ride to Atsumu’s penthouse is a nightmare of checking your dress at red lights and praying no one’s seeing anything. By the time you get there, you’re stressed.

“What’d I tell you?” Suna asks, sliding into a narrow parking spot right outside Atsumu’s building. “Easier parking.”

“I hate you,” You repeat, letting him help you awkwardly off the bike and immediately fixing everything. He pulls the helmet gently off of you and brushes your hair out of your face. And then he smiles lazily.

“You’re so getting laid tonight. I can feel it.”

You don’t bother responding, just following him into the lobby. The front desk girl waves you through, recognizing you. Her eyes trail down your body, eyebrows raised, and you’re immediately self-conscious. But she leans over the desk, calling out as you’re reaching the elevator.

“You look really pretty!”

You blink, looking back and then up at Suna. “She talking to me or you?”

“You,” He laughs. “Definitely you.”

“Oh-” The elevator dings, signaling Atsumu’s arrival to get you up to the penthouse with his key, but you’re calling back to the girl with an awkward laugh as the doors open. “Thank you!”

“Hey- Holy shit- ”

You turn, finding Atsumu inside the elevator, staring at you with comically wide eyes and a dropped jaw. He stares so long that the elevator doors close between you, and he’s rushing to open it again. You give him a weird look. 

“What?”

He shoots you a look of disbelief. “What d’ya mean, ‘ what ’? Look at you!”

You follow Suna into the elevator, mumbling, “I regret buying this dress.”

Suna shakes his head, leaning back against the wall and addressing Atsumu. “She won’t listen to me about the dress.”

Atsumu’s still staring. “What’re you tryna do, get laid?”

Suna looks at you with lifted brows and a pleased grin. “See? He gets it.”

“Damn, if Omi ‘n I weren’t-” Atsumu shakes his head, whistling. “You’d have trouble gettin’ rid of me.”

You flush, crossing your arms over your middle. “Tsumu… I really don’t look bad?”

“No way ,” He laughs, still staring. “I might go break up with ‘im, honestly.”

You laugh, face warm as you stare down at your feet. Suna scoffs beside you. 

“Oh, sure, believe him but not me.” He smiles when you nudge him, and then he claps once. “Okay, here’s the plan. We cannot be seen together.”

You furrow a brow. You’d only been joking earlier. “Why?”

“Because-” He gestures down at your outfit. “- you came to get laid, and sticking to me all night will obviously mess that up.”

“But-” You don’t like not being able to stick to Suna – and, by that logic, Atsumu or Osamu – when you feel this vulnerable.

Suna shakes his head. “Nope. You gotta put yourself out there. Find someone you like and seduce him until you’re getting dragged into one of Miya’s spare rooms.” He points at you, eyes sharp. “Don’t leave with him, though. I don’t need you getting murdered.”

Atsumu nods along, finally peeling his eyes off of you to stare at the panel. You’re almost at the top. “Got lots of ‘em, spare rooms. Use one.”

You swallow nervously, watching the last two floors tick away. Suna pats you on the shoulder.

“You got this. Don’t come find me until you’re done.”

The doors open, leading straight into Atsumu’s living room.

You’re forced to wave goodbye to your safety net – he sends you off with a wink and a mouthed ‘ You look good ’. You square your shoulders and shake out your nerves, heading to the kitchen.

After finding a drink, you wander into the living room. Suna’s on one of the couches, talking to Bokuto. Atsumu’s sitting a friendly distance from Sakusa, looking like he very much wants to be in the man’s lap instead.

You see Osamu near the window, talking to someone you don’t know but looking across the room. You follow it, finding Yachi and Hinata, and make a beeline straight for her. 

“Hi!” You say, and they both turn to look at you. Hinata flushes upon seeing your dress, and Yachi squeals as you sit beside her.

“You look so good, Y/n!” The younger woman hugs you tight, and you flush.

“Thanks… I’m really out of my element here,” You laugh, greeting Hinata. “Hi, Shouyou.”

“H-Hey-” He coughs. “You look really nice.”

You warm again, wondering if maybe you really don’t look half bad. “Thanks! You look good, too.” You point at his arms, seeing that he’s built some more muscle since you’d last seen him. “You really bulked up.”

He’s as red as his hair, eyes flicking to your thighs and then away. Your phone buzzes in your purse, and you peek at it.

[10:22 PM]

Sunarin : believe me yet?

You find him, seeing that he’s flicking his brows and glancing toward Hinata. You roll your eyes with a smile and start to put your phone away, but it buzzes again.

Sunarin: you got the poor guy stressed out

Sunarin: look at him

You glance at Hinata out of the corner of your eye. Yachi’s talking to him about something, and he’s nodding and giving the appropriate number of ‘ Uh-huh ’s, but his eyes are drifting toward you repeatedly, gaze on your thighs and chest and hips before he’s remembering to keep his eyes on Yachi. He shifts, swallowing hard and blinking rapidly.

Your stomach flips when you realize that Hinata really is checking you out.

Would you sleep with Hinata? You really like him as a person, and you trust him enough. But you’re not sure that sleeping with any of your friends’ friends is a good idea, in case things get weird. But – on the other hand – you do trust the people that you’ve gotten to know over the years, the Black Jackals all great guys. You don’t know if you’re ready to try to snag some guy you don’t know at all – that’s more likely to end badly. 

You sigh, taking a sip of your drink. You just got here. You should wait it out, test all the waters and see what calls to you. Hinata’s very cute, but you shouldn’t jump his bones just because he’s giving you attention.

He’s a friend , you remind yourself. And the party’s just starting.

You talk to Yachi and Hinata for a long while, and – when Osamu finally builds the courage to cross the room and engage Yachi in conversation – you’re left with Hinata. You fall into easy conversation with him for almost an hour, laughing and smiling and leaning against him when your head starts to get a little fuzzy. He cracks jokes and tells stories excitedly and asks about your shop and life, and you feel incredibly fond of him.

So fond, in fact, that you’ve unconsciously decided that Hinata’s not the right guy for this. You really do like him, and you really do like the energy you have together, but that makes a one-night stand with him incredibly unappealing. You’re not desperate enough to risk the friendship you seem to be solidifying with him right now.

So when you glance up and find that Kageyama Tobio has arrived and is glancing awkwardly at Hinata while he talks to Atsumu, you smile at the ginger next to you.

“You shouldn’t let me keep you, Shou,” You say, and he smiles at the nickname. “I’m sure there’s someone here who you’d have a better time with.”

He furrows a brow, so you tilt your head in Kageyama’s direction. When he sees his old friend standing there, he swallows and flushes.

“Mm-” He laughs, shaking his head and looking down at his lap. “I don’t know.”

“I do,” You nudge him. “Go.”

He eyes you, seeing that you seem set on not letting things between you go anywhere. And then he nods, snaking an arm around you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Okay, fine. But I better hear about whose heart you break tonight.”

You laugh, squeezing his arm as he goes. And then you sigh, a bit resigned. It was the best choice, you know it.

Your phone buzzes.

[12:11 AM]

Sunarin: WHERE IS HE GOING

Sunarin: GO GET THAT SMALL MAN

You snort into your cup, eyeing him. He’s still on that couch, but he’s not speaking to anyone, just staring at his phone and glaring at you when he sees you looking.

Sunarin: he was ready to risk it all for you bro

You shake your head.

You: hes my friend, i couldnt do it

Sunarin: you wont fuck a friend?? thats like 85% of the ppl here!!

You: NOT THAT ONE

Sunarin: christ,,,, okay get back out there, soldier

Sunarin: I expect to walk past one of these rooms in the next hour and hear you having the time of your life

You: youre so heinous

You stand, heading toward the kitchen for another drink. You feel Suna watching you, but when you glance at him, he’s scrolling on his phone and ignoring everyone who approaches him. You text him when you get to the kitchen, head down.

You: should we just go? 

You: i dont wanna keep you waiting

Sunarin: i mean this in the nicest way possible

Sunarin: stop being stupid

Sunarin: bc i will block you

You: hello??

Sunarin: idgaf how long i sit here

Sunarin: find a man and fuck him

Sunarin: that is your assignment

You: sir yes sir

You look up, intending to scan the room for your liquor of choice. Instead, standing in the corner by the other doorway, in a group of four guys, is one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen. You have no clue who he is, but he’s got dark hair and a cool smile and piercings, and you are utterly stopped in your tracks.

He catches it, glancing over at you and nodding in greeting. You smile tightly and move to the counter, pouring out the first thing you can find. You text Suna discreetly, something incredibly elegant.

You: AHAAWEFJAWOIFEJKAE FUCK

The counter where you stand is actually a bar with beams on the side, so the living room is entirely visible from here. You see Suna perk up, his head lifting as he peers over someone’s head to meet your eyes. He glances over your shoulder at the group, but you go back to pouring your drink while you calm your nerves, so you don’t see his reaction.

There’s fervent whispering behind you, and then footsteps. You spot three of the guys passing into the living room, so you glance back. 

The beautiful man is still leaning against the opposite counter, but he’s got his phone out, invested in something he’s looking at. You see the three guys looking generally in your direction, and you wonder if maybe they’ve left their friend here on purpose. You glance at him again and then steel your nerves, turning carefully.

“Whatcha drinking?” 

The guy’s eyes flick to yours, his brow lifting. He lowers his phone but doesn’t put it away, and he smiles at you. “Rum and coke. You?”

“Uhm-” You laugh. “I have no idea. I think there’s tequila in it.”

He grins easy. “Oof. Tequila always gets me. Kinda scared of it.”

You smile into your cup as you take a sip. 

Across the room, Suna watches you talk to a guy he doesn’t recognize. There’s a weird feeling in his chest, the kind of bad feeling he’d always get around your exes. He watches the group of guys that have just come out, seeing that they’re eyeing you and whispering. 

Then one laughs, and he knows this isn’t good.

He stands, moving toward Atsumu without taking his eyes off of you. You’ve stepped a little closer to the guy, and Suna feels his heart hurt a bit. You’re putting yourself out there, and the guy you’re doing it with is bad news.

“Miya,” He says, cutting Atsumu off where he is struggling to keep a good distance between himself and Sakusa. The blond looks up, clearly drunk.

“Hah?” 

“Who are those guys?” He points with his cup, and Atsumu stands, squinting.

“Oh, I dunno. I think they’re friends of Bo’s.” Atsumu points toward Bokuto, who’s telling a story excitedly to a large group of people. “You know how he is. Always meetin’ people and makin’ friends. I let them up like 20 minutes ago, maybe?”

Suna swallows, watching how the guy you talk to lifts a brow at you. You must have tried to say something flirty, but he’s not taking it well. He’s starting to look like he’s looking down on you. 

Atsumu hums, seeing it, too. “Want me to go over there?” His voice is clearer than it had been a minute ago.

“No, I got it.” Suna’s gone before he finishes the sentence, moving quickly.

Atsumu watches him go and then finds his brother in the crowd, sitting with Yachi. Samu’s looking over his shoulder, trailing after Suna, and then he turns. The brothers lock eyes, sharing a knowing smirk. Samu just shrugs, and Atsumu shrugs back.

Whatever Suna’s about to do, there’s no stopping it.

In the kitchen, you realize that this guy’s resolutely uninterested in you when a girl comes into the room and his attention is entirely gone. 

You look, seeing that this unassuming girl is exactly what you’d expected. You glance at the guy again, finding a hungry gaze that trails over her body. Your stomach drops a bit, and you look over your shoulder toward his friends. 

They’re standing at the bar, peeking at you and snickering to each other.

Oh. 

Right.

You stare down into your cup, wondering when you’d let your guard down. 

It hurts a little more than expected.

You smile up at the guy one last time, raising your cup to him.

“It was good to meet you.”

“Uh-huh,” He mutters, not listening. You blink and turn away, heading to leave. You can’t help but look at the girl as you go, seeing how beautiful she is. She looks up, smiling kindly at you, and you smile back. She seems sweet.

You go to pass her, leaving the way you came in.

“Y/n.” 

You jump, turning back. Suna’s standing at the other door, by the guy you’d been talking to, his face relaxed but his eyes sharp. Only now do you realize they kind of look alike.

What is he doing?

“Oh-” 

“There you are,” He smiles easily, stepping into the room. 

Huh?

“Uh-”

“I’ve been looking for you all night.”

The guy looks between you and Suna. You look between him and Suna. The girl leaves with her drink, entirely unaware.

“Oh… Really?” You look out toward the living room, finding the other guys also watching Suna with confusion.

“Yeah. I was hoping you’d come,” He replies easily, stepping toward you. 

His eyes flick down toward a spot on the floor that’s closer to him, and you drift there, eyeing him. He moves around you and reaches for a bottle on the counter, pouring himself a drink. He offers it to you, too. 

You watch him glance over your shoulder at the group of guys, and you realize he’d turned you around and put himself in view of them. So they could see him.

Why?

“Sure,” You say, curious to see where this goes, and tilt your cup toward him. “Thanks, Suna.”

“Rin,” He responds, tilting his head to smile down at you, flirty and cheeky in a way you’d never seen from him. “You can call me Rin.” 

You almost snort. “Okay. Rin.”

“I missed you last weekend,” Suna says, making a point to drag his eyes down the length of your body before he takes a sip of his drink.

You lift a brow, smirking up at him. He’s the only one who can see the teasing look you give him before you respond, playing into his game.

“Really? I couldn’t tell by the five missed calls. I was sleeping, by the way. It was one in the morning.”

He smiles at your line, and you can tell it’s genuine. He shrugs, holding eye contact and leaning in a little. “What can I say? I know what I like.”

“What you like…” You smile down into your cup, nodding. “And what would that be, Rin ?”

“Well-” He swallows, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he eyes you. “This dress, for one.” And then he slides his free hand over your waist, playing with the material. “It looks really good on you.”

His eyes have darkened by the time you meet them again, and it makes you a little nervous to realize that you’re unsure if it’s real or not. Your mind flashes to how he’d watched you bend over in front of your mirror earlier. Your fingers start to tingle.

Someone comes in behind you, and you use it as an excuse to look away from Suna and glance over your shoulder. The guy you’d been talking to is still there, but he’s got his eyes on your dress, interest lingering around your thighs.

You quirk a brow and turn back to Suna, feeling annoyed that this guy had only found you worth looking at once another guy had. Suna eyes you briefly, and you read the expression.

Want me to leave you with him?

He doesn’t look happy about the idea – you’re not happy about the idea – but you can tell he’s hesitating to continue, because the guy is paying you attention now.

He must not realize that you’d lost interest in that guy the moment his gaze had drifted. It’s Suna’s attention you’re nervous about now.

Still, you know that he’d only come to show that group of guys that you’re worth considering, so you tamper the feeling and lean into his game again.

You step close to him, watching how his eyes light up a bit, and slide a hand over his bicep. You make a point to trace the outline of one of his tattoos there, watching with a smile as goosebumps form wherever you scratch your nail gently against his skin.

“Is there something you wanted, Rin?” You look up at him through your eyelashes when you ask, wide and innocent.

You see the exact moment that something changes.

Suna’s eyes widen marginally and drop to your lips, green eyes heavy on you as he pulls his lip ring between his teeth and plays with it. His hand tightens on your waist, fingers pressing into your lower back and pulling you toward him.

“Just…” His gaze flicks between your mouth and your eyes. “Wanted to see if we could make up for lost time. Maybe somewhere more private?”

Suna Rintarou means to pull you into one of Atsumu’s spare rooms. 

You blink, a sudden flush rising on your cheeks as your stomach flips. You squeeze his bicep, anchoring yourself to him. He just stares at your mouth.

You nod after a moment, poking your tongue out to wet your lips. He watches it. “Okay… That sounds good.” 

His eyes snap to yours, suddenly filled with something that hadn’t been there before. When he sets his cup on the counter and steps around you, hand finding yours and pulling you after him, you realize it’s urgency. You barely manage to put your drink down without spilling it. 

All four guys watch you get dragged out of the room and toward an open door not even 15 feet away. 

You have absolutely no idea what’s about to happen. 

You step into the room, closing the door with your free hand. “What are we-”

Suna spins, planting both hands on your hips and pinning you hard against the door. You gasp, eyes wide, and he lifts one hand and sets it on the door next to your head. 

“I want to kiss you,” He says bluntly, breathing out hard. “Do you want to kiss me?”

You blink, lips parted, searching his face. You only find heat in his eyes, and it makes a spot under your navel tingle. 

Do you want to kiss him?

“Yes,” You whisper, nodding shallowly. “Yeah-Yes.”

He breathes slowly, eyes dropping to your mouth. 

There’s a moment of nothing, one where all you can hear is the muffled music and laughter through the door, the space between you and Suna Rintarou completely silent.

And then he’s surging forward.

You cannot, for the life of you, understand why you hadn’t thought of doing this before.

He pushes his lips against yours with force, full and impatient. You throw your arms around his neck, angling your head. The hand he has on the door comes to cup the back of your head, holding you tight against him, and you card your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching your nails against his scalp.

Suna pulls back with a sharp inhale, his mouth hovering over yours. You blink hazily, your head fuzzy and warm.

“ Oh… ” You mumble. 

“ More? ” He breathes, sounding just as shaken. The hand on your lower back pulls you flush against him, and you feel something pressing against your thigh. Your skin hums with anticipation, and you nod, your eyes still half-closed.

“More’s good…” 

Your back hits the door and your hair’s being tangled around his fingers, head pulled to the side as his mouth finds your throat. The ring on his lip is cold between your flushed skin and the burn of his mouth, and his tongue passing over your pulse as he nips at the spot has a weak whimper falling past your lips.

“ Louder ,” He murmurs, the vibration echoing through your throat and down to your toes. He sucks harder on the spot just under your jaw, and you moan properly and in his ear. “Good, just like that,” He bites down and then swipes his tongue over it, soothing and warm. “Want them to hear you.”

Your heart pounds, and you cling to his shoulders, letting out a noise of confusion. 

“Who?”

“You know exactly who.”

You remember that you’d just been talking to some other guy, that his friends had been making fun of you. 

You’d already forgotten.

“Why do you-” You gasp, shuddering when he pulls your hips toward him, pressing his own against you. He’s hard– He’s already hard, and you haven’t done anything. You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “Why do you want them to…”

Suna suckles at a spot under your ear before lifting his head and planting his lips on yours. His hand leaves the safety of your waist and slips up past your ribs. You push your chest out, silently urging him to keep going.

“I want them to-” He swears under his breath as his hand closes around your breast, fingers kneading gently. He kisses you hard. “-know what they’re missing. How badly they fucked up.” 

You’re out of breath when he pulls away, and you circle your arms tightly around his neck so you can lift onto your tiptoes and kiss him again. He touches you urgently, thumb brushing over your nipple once and then again when you mewl into his mouth. He drops his lips to your throat again, freeing you to make as much noise as you need.

You sigh loudly, because his other hand is falling to your waist and tugging at your dress. The material slides up your body, exposing your thighs and then even more to him. He leaves it around your hips, fingertips dancing down to your panties. 

“Can I-” He hooks two fingers into the band, mouth hot on your skin as he heaves out an unsteady breath. You nod furiously, not a single thought of how you look or feel passing through your head. Not a single thought that he might not want this, because you can feel so plainly against your bare thigh that he does. 

Later, you won’t be able to name a single other time you hadn’t been self-conscious in the exact same situation with different men.

He tugs your panties unceremoniously down to your thighs, fingers trembling just slightly when he presses them against your inner thigh. You whimper as he pushes your thighs apart, cold air rushing against your core and sending a jolt of realization through you. 

You haven’t been touched by someone else in over a year.

“Wait, Suna-” Your protest is muffled against his lips. “I’m not gonna-I won’t last long-”

“Good,” He breathes, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth briefly. “Fucking good . I don’t want you to last-” He pushes his mouth to a million different places in quick succession, almost like he’s losing his mind just as fast as you are. His fingers hover between your thighs, cold against your heated skin. “Just want you to come, just to take the edge off.” He kisses you forcefully and murmurs against your lips. “ Just want you to come for me .”

He pulls away just in time for a moan to fall past your lips, ringing through the room. It’s embarrassing how loud it is, how desperately you’d reacted to his words alone. But Suna just smiles breathlessly down at you, face open and honest and eyes gleaming with a wicked anticipation that makes you tremble a bit.

He’s still holding eye contact when he presses against your core, his two middle fingers sliding through your folds.

You gasp so loud that it spills into a moan, and your head falls back against the door with a hard thump , his name ripped from your throat in something close to a scream.

“ Suna- ”

“ Fuck, ” He groans, dropping his head to your shoulder and sliding his fingers against you again. “Fuck, you feel so good-”

“S-Suna-” You cry again, fisting the sleeves of his t-shirt with white knuckles. “Oh, my God-”

He latches onto the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking the skin there as he swipes the pads of his fingers against your clit. “Don’t call me Su- fuck -” He cuts short, because your hips are moving on their own, rocking against his fingers. The tip of his middle finger catches on your entrance, and you gasp loudly, pushing your chest against his as you stare up at the ceiling with wide eyes. 

You don’t understand. You don’t understand why this feels so good, why you can’t get this feeling on your own. Why the thought that the man doing this to you is Suna Rintarou makes your nerves tumble and twist and tug at the coil that’s warping under your navel, under his touch. You hadn’t thought to want him before, not really, because he’s Suna . Your Sunarin, your piece of home.

And he’s making you feel something no one before him ever had.

You don’t think you can come back from this.

All rational thought flies from your mind when Suna brushes his middle finger against your entrance again, with purpose this time. You gasp, clinging tight.

“ Su- ” He shoves his mouth against yours, murmuring his own name, murmuring ‘ Rin, call me Rin’ against you, suckling on your bottom lip. He pulls away to watch you again, to find your eyes like he had last time.

And then he pushes his finger into you, slowly and then all at once.

“ Oh, ” You gasp, your eyelids fluttering. “Rin- ” 

He pulls out, crooking his finger, and then slides back in, nodding as his palm slaps against your clit. “ ‘s good, baby ,” He mumbles, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “ Again, just like that .” 

You think the scream of his name when he slams his fingers into you repeatedly is loud enough to be heard over the whole party. He laughs against your throat, humming, and pushes a second finger in, drawing another moan out of you as his fingers reach places that yours never can. “That’s it, let them hear you.” 

The coil in your navel twists viciously when something cold and metal slides against your thighs with each thrust of his fingers into you, because you’re realizing that it’s the bracelet – the bracelet that you’d given him those handful of years ago, the friendship bracelet that you have in your jewelry box at home.

You don’t think your past self would ever believe this is where that bracelet is now.

Suna pants against your skin, still rock hard against your thigh. “Let them hear how good I make you feel ,” He breathes, and your heart skips, that coil yanking.

“Oh, I’m gonna-” You gasp, fumbling to tug at his shirt, to tell him. He lifts his head to look at you.

And then he promptly yanks his fingers out of you.

You jerk at the feeling, and your heart sinks as your orgasm starts to fade. All you can do is stare up at him with wide eyes, the disappointment written all over your face, because you don’t know what you did to deserve that.

It turns quickly to confusion when Suna spins you around, and suddenly your face is pressed against the door, hips pulled out toward him. You gasp, planting your hands on the door to steady yourself, your face rushed with heat at being bent over in front of him.

That moment in front of your mirror had not prepared you for this.

“What-”

“Please-can I-” He asks, the clink of his belt and then the zipper of his jeans loud as he yanks on it, and you nod against the door.

“Yes, yes please,” You beg, pushing your hips back more.

“ Shit ,” He swears under his breath. “I wanna do this better-” You jump when something hot brushes between your thighs, something hot and incredibly hard. “-Later, when we get home, I wanna-” He pushes the head of his cock gently through your folds, and his groan mixes with the choked moan you let out against the door. 

“Just wanna get you off once before we go, just wanna make you come once around me,” He finally gets out, hissed through his teeth as he guides himself to your entrance. “‘s that okay? Can I?”

You whimper loudly, nodding again and throwing his own words back at him, desperate and begging. 

“ T-Take the edge-jus’ to take the edge off- ” You stutter through it, your heart doing leaps and your nerves on fire. You push your hips back against him, whining when he brushes against you again.

Suna groans, and he pushes his hand against the door by your face as he drops his forehead to your shoulder, that bracelet staring you dead in the eye.

“Fuck ,” He whispers, shaking his head. “Fuck , Y/n. You-” 

He slips the head of his cock past your entrance, sliding into you slowly. 

You stop being able to feel your legs.

Suna moans your name, low and in your ear, and your eyes roll back into your head at the sound.

Why had you gone so long without hearing him say your name like that?

“ Rin ,” You whimper, and he presses a kiss to a spot behind your ear.

“You’re driving me insane,” He murmurs. “Why didn’t you believe me earlier? Why couldn’t you believe me? Can’t you see now how badly I want you?” He starts to pant in your ear, because he’s drawing his hips back with a hiss and then pushing back in slowly. “Fuck, you’re too-” 

You suck in a breath when his fingers find your clit, his hips stilling. You moan, feeling yourself clench around him. Feeling, for the first time in a year, truly full in the way that you’d craved. 

You clench around him again, and he groans into your neck.

“You’re gonna make me come if you don’t stop doing that,” He pleads, breathing hard against your ear.

“ Why won’t you move ?” You whine, unable to help it.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your skin. “You want the romantic answer or the realistic one?”

You can’t help but giggle, because he’s making a stupid, Suna-flavored joke in a moment like this. “The romantic one.”

You feel him smile wide, even as the pads of his fingers slide against your clit, the little bundle of nerves that makes you twitch. 

“I just wanna get you off, I don’t care about myself right now.,” He tries, laughing a little. “It doesn’t matter – all that matters is you, and I can get you off just like this.” He circles your clit again, and your laugh is breathy and sensitive.

“And the realistic one?” You smile when he bites down on your shoulder briefly.

“You’re so tight that it actually hurt when I tried to move,” He explains, and you clench unintentionally. “Come on , Y/n, don’t do this-” He swipes his fingers against you faster now, trying to get you close.

It doesn’t take long, not with Suna’s fingers on the most sensitive part of your body. Not with him buried inside you, throbbing and twitching with every whine and moan that falls past your lips. Not with his mouth pressed to your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine and his quiet groans making your toes curl.

“ Come on, baby, ” He whispers, pushing his fingertips against you. “ Let me take the edge off, just like you said. Let me do this for you. ” 

Your moan comes out as more of a sob, and your eyes feel a bit wet. The coil in your navel tightens and pulls with every word.

“ Come around me, Y/n. I wanna feel it– I wanna feel you- ”

You gasp, your nails scratching against the door as your fingers curl into fists, and your voice is clear and sharp for the first time in a while. “Su-Suna, I’m-”

-close, I’m close-

“Fuck, I think I am, too-” He admits, even though he hasn’t moved an inch. He shudders against you, breath shaky. “You first, so I can pull out-”

“ Mm-mm- ” You protest. “ ‘s safe, ‘s fine, I’m- ”

You don’t have the time or energy to explain that you’ve been on birth control for years, but it doesn’t matter, because he groans. He understands. 

“Are you sure-” He chokes, and you hear a low whine in his throat. The sound pushes you to the edge, and you teeter there, sobbing.

“ Please, please, I’m-Suna- ” 

You gasp sharply, because he’s lifting his chest off your back and straightening you up, pulling your back against him. He clamps his hand down tight over your mouth, turning your head so you’re forced to look up into his eyes.

“ This one’s mine ,” He breathes, his fingers swiping viciously against you as he holds that cursed eye contact. “ No one hears this but me .”

The coil snaps, and your eyes roll back in your head.

Your vision goes white, and your ears ring, the sound deafening as your body jerks, your fingers scratching and digging into his arms for stability. You feel the scream in your throat, but you don’t hear it, can’t hear anything except the low, muffled groan Suna presses into the side of your head. He twitches inside you, and then you’re warm as he comes, filling you in a way that steals the last gasp of breath from your lungs.

He holds you tight until you both come down, arms wrapped around you. The hand on your mouth falls, curling around the side of your head and cradling you against him. The shuddering breaths you let out mix with his, and he sets his mouth on yours, unable to put the effort into kissing you properly. 

After a moment, your arms fall limp, dropping away from him, and your head slumps against his shoulder. He slides carefully out of you, holding you steady when you whimper and sway a bit. Then he reaches down, tugging your panties back up your legs and fixing your dress. 

You turn in place, forehead pressed to his chest, and straighten him out with your eyes half-closed. He shivers when you wrap your fingers around him and tuck him back into his pants, and his hand cradles your neck, a kiss pressed to the top of your head while you button and zip his jeans.

When you lift your head to look at him, there’s no need to ask him to kiss you. He drops his head without a word, lips just as soft on yours as they’d been the first time. 

“How you feel?” He asks, quiet against your mouth.

“Boneless, ” You say right away, and he smiles against you before pulling away.

“ Boneless, or tired ?” He prompts.

You shake your head. You don’t feel tired at all, your nerves still humming under your skin. “Just boneless.”

“Then,” He starts. “Can you find your bones on the way down to my bike?”

There’s a jolt in your body when you realize what he’s saying. That he’s taking you home.

“Yeah, I-” You swallow, meeting his eyes.

He doesn’t look tired, either.

“I think I can manage that,” You whisper, staring up at him.

A grin spreads across his face, wicked and terrifying in the way that only he is.

“I’m ready when you are,” is all he says.

You cling to him as he leads you out of the room and to the elevator, unable to process anything but him. Unable to process the way Hinata whispers ‘ Heartbreaker ’ warmly to you as you pass, or the way the twins give you matching grins of pride when you find them across the room. Definitely not the guy that you’d tried talking to, staring down at you when Suna shoves past him and all but carries you into the elevator.

All you can do is hold tight to him and trust that he’ll get you back to his place. 

He kisses the spot under your ear when the elevator reaches the first floor.

“Come on,” He mumbles against your skin as the doors slide open. “I still gotta fuck you stupid.”

Your face burns as he drags you out of Atsumu’s building and to his bike, unable to imagine how what had just happened doesn’t count as fucking you stupid.

What’ve you just gotten yourself into?

[sodavizz]

—Island In The Sun!

ct: @the-phantom-peach of their amazing art of my bb <33

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Pairings: Daisuke x F! Reader

Wc: idk 1k+

Warnings: None, just pure fluff :3

Daisuke had always loved the beach. The salty air, the endless stretch of sand, and the way the waves whispered secrets as they hit the shore—he felt at home here. But today, there was something different. Maybe it was the sun, sinking low in the sky and casting everything in gold, or maybe it was just the way she stood out in the crowd.

He had been sitting there for a while, mindlessly playing with the sand, but his eyes kept drifting over to her. She was laughing with her friends, her hair shimmering like threads of gold in the sunlight, her smile so effortless it almost looked like it belonged in a movie. She wore a white sundress that fluttered in the breeze, and to him, she was... perfect.

He didn’t believe in love at first sight. Honestly, he’d always thought that was a little cheesy, the stuff of rom-coms. But in that moment, watching her from across the beach, something inside him clicked. He had never seen anyone quite like her before, and before he knew it, he couldn’t stop staring. His heart started racing, and all he could think was: Who is this beautiful lady?

But she wasn’t looking at him. Not at first.

Her attention was on her friends, who were goofing around and splashing in the water. Daisuke watched from a distance, hoping she might glance his way, but the more he stared, the more he realized she was completely oblivious. Maybe that was for the best. What could he possibly say to someone like her?

Then, a voice broke his concentration.

“Dude,” one of his buddies teased, nudging him lightly. “Are you gonna just stare at that girl all day?”

Daisuke froze. He didn’t know if he should laugh or die of embarrassment.

----

You looked over, your gaze scanning the beach, and sure enough, your eyes landed on him. For a split second, both of your eyes met, and then he quickly looked away, as though he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

“Seriously?” you muttered, half-smiling and half-rolling your eyes. “He’s still looking.”

Your friends burst out laughing. “Looks like someone’s got a crush!”

You shot them a look but couldn’t help the flush that crept up her neck. You turned your attention back to your friends, pretending not to care, but you had to admit—there was something a little funny about being the center of his attention.

----

The hours passed, and soon the sun had dipped below the horizon. The beach bar, a cozy little spot right on the sand, began to fill up with people wanting to make the most of the evening. She and her friends decided to grab a table, the mood light and easy. Daisuke was still sitting at the bar, nursing a beer, but now, instead of just glancing over at her, he was watching her from across the room.

He’d been trying to build up the nerve to go over and talk to her for what felt like forever. He wasn’t a shy guy, but there was something about her that made him feel out of his league. She was beautiful, sure, but there was more to it than that. It was like she had this effortless confidence that made him second-guess everything he was going to say.

“Just go talk to her, man,” his friend had said earlier, giving him an encouraging nudge. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

The worst? He didn’t even want to think about it.

So he stayed put, watching from a distance as she laughed with her friends. And then, just as he was thinking maybe it wasn’t meant to be, he saw her glance in his direction. Their eyes met again—this time, not for a fleeting second, but long enough for him to feel his heart race.

Okay. That was it. He couldn’t put it off any longer.

Taking a deep breath, he stood up. His palms were sweaty, and his stomach was in knots. He wasn’t used to feeling this nervous, but there he was, walking toward her table.

She noticed him coming, her eyebrows raising in mild surprise. She’d probably thought he wasn’t going to approach after all the staring he’d been doing earlier.

He stopped in front of the table, feeling like he might faint any second. “Hey,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft. “I hope I’m not interrupting. I just, uh... I had to come over and say hi.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You’re the guy from the beach, right?”

Daisuke couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah, that’s me. I mean, I guess I’m the guy who stared at you all afternoon.” He immediately cringed, cursing himself inwardly.

The girl chuckled. “No, it’s fine. You just caught my attention. It’s not every day a guy spends hours staring at you.”

He winced. “Yeah, that wasn’t... ideal. But, hey, I thought I should at least introduce myself. I’m Daisuke.”

She gave him a playful smile. “[insert y/n].”

There was a brief silence, and for a second, Daisuke wondered if he should just walk away. But then, She spoke again, her tone light.

“So, what made you finally come over? After all that staring?”

Daisuke smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know. I guess I figured I’d regret it if I didn’t say something. And I didn’t want to be that creepy guy who just stares and never does anything about it.”

[Insert y/n's] smile softened, and for a moment, he thought maybe she was going to laugh at him. But instead, she just looked at him with a kind of warmth in her eyes that made him feel a little less ridiculous.

“Well, I’m glad you did,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “So, uh, what’s your deal, Daisuke? What brings you to this part of the world?”

And just like that, the awkwardness started to fade. The conversation flowed, easy and natural. They talked about everything—how they both loved the ocean, their favorite kinds of music, the weirdest things they’d ever seen on vacation. They joked about everything from childhood memories to the most embarrassing things that had ever happened to them in public. Before long, the tension had melted away completely, and it felt like they’d known each other for years.

The night wore on, and eventually, the bar began to close. But they weren’t in a hurry.

As they stood up to leave, Daisuke found himself feeling... content. There was something real about this connection. No forced pickup lines. No awkward silences. Just two people talking, getting to know each other in the easiest way possible.

“Hey,” Daisuke said, pulling out his phone. “Maybe we can grab coffee sometime? I know, super original, right?”

[insert y/n] smiled, her eyes bright. “I think I’d like that.”

And just like that, what had started as a nervous glance across a crowded beach had turned into something more—something that felt, for the first time in a long while, like it could actually be the beginning of something good.

-----

testing, hehe

[click4rainy]

Wade Wilson Boyfriend HeadCanons

👽:slowly but surely getting back into my writing 💅🏼 (not proof read just super horny like a clown 🤡 HONKAH HONKAH)

SFW ♥️

★ Wade is a silly guy. So silly in fact, he’ll crack jokes or shoot a sarcastic comment your way—mid argument. “How am I supposed to listen when you look this good right now?” Fear not! Because he knows when to shut up. (When you tell him to)

★ Bro defo has a Roblox account. Not elaborating.

★ Despite his chaotic and reckless behavior, Wade is actually super protective and would go to extreme lengths to keep you safe. And then some. “Hey! Back off! Don’t you fuck with her! Unless you wanna fuck with me too. In that case we’ll need a sit down discussion for—“ “WADE!” “Right—sorry.”

★ Expect big, wild romantic gestures. Like standing outside your window while holding up a boom box. (playing ‘what you won’t do for love’ by Bobby Caldwell) or (attempting at) writing your name with fireworks. (There were definitely ‘unexpected’ explosions)

★ “I know it’s only Tuesday, but I totally, legally rented a helicopter so we can pretend we’re in the aveng—no? Okay…plan B then: Breakfast in bed with (penis) questionable pancakes.”

★ Cuddle bug Wade. Are we surprised? This man lives off of physical touch and affection. Wrapping you up in his arms, not letting you go with a shit eating grin. “Nope, you’re not leaving this couch. We’re practicing the ancient art of Wade Wrapping, which requires at least three hours of cuddles, just sayin.”

★ He is nonstop teasing you. It’s a hobby for him, really. (And his love language) Coming up with silly nicknames for you, challenging you to random games or chores, he’s not below making fun of himself to see you smile either.

★ “Oh-ho? You think you can wipe the track with me in Mario kart? That’s cute.” “Honey—you look fine. Approachable even. Unlike me…” (he says while laying limbless on the bed. Literally….)

★ Uses his dark humor to comfort you in times of ‘what the actual fuck?’ Knowing how to turn even the bleakest of moments into something a little lighter. “Hey, I know life might suck granny tits right now…but at least we’re not in a rom-com where one of us has to die or something worse for the other to grow emotionally, right?”

★ Unwaveringly supportive of you in any conflict. He is going to take your side. Every. Single. Time. Backing you up even if he has literally no idea what’s going on or why. “You said Rick was out of line at work today? Well guess who’s getting a strongly worded letter in the form of interpretive dance in the parking lot?” “Is it Ri—“ “it’s Rick.”

★ Wade loves experimenting in the kitchen with you! Attempting to make meals that sometimes end up in hilarious disasters, followed up by a take out order.

★ He breaks this…’fourth wall’ sometimes. Like looking off into the distance and talking to an invisible audience or camera while addressing you. This dead ass bewilders you at times. But mostly you roll your eyes at his antics.

★ “Can you believe this shit?” He’ll ask, turning to an imaginary audience. “I’m over here being the perfect boyfriend—funny, handsome, protective, all that—and you guys still think Peter Parker is the ‘Ideal Boyfriend’ pffft. Get real.” *turns back to you* “anyway, where were we?”

★ This overgrown man child is a PDA enthusiast. Unashamed of hugging, kissing, or trying to dip you during a playful dance in public. He doesn’t care, he’s proud to be with you and wants everyone to know it. “You know what this sidewalk needs? A spontaneous make out session”

★ One hundred percent would insist on wearing matching or theme outfits. Whether it’s full on costumes or something little like matching socks. “Ta-Da! Matching Taco Cat shirts—no, no. Don’t fight it. This is how we show the world we’re a team. Through peak fashion choices.”

★ Loves movie nights. They’re full of commentary, with your boyfriend narrating or making fun of the movie plots. He’d insist on watching rom-coms or action movies for sure.

★ You’ll receive unconventional love letters in the form of doodles, short jokes, or notes saying “I love you more than The Golden Girls. And that’s saying something. ;)”

★ Wade is a pretty chill dude. He’s not overboard with jealousy. But that won’t stop the man from making his classic (not so jokey) jokes when he feels like someone might be getting too close to you. “Oh, flirting? With you? Cute. Should I go over there and casually mention that I’m the love of your life and also really good with sharp objects?”

★ Beneath all the jokes and chaos, he has moments of genuine, heartfelt affection. Whispering his love and gratitude for you at unexpected times. “I know I never take shit for real. But I’m serious about you, about us. You’re my safe space, the one part of my life that makes sense on this stupid chunk of rock floating in space.”

★ Remembers odd little details about you. Showing it with unexpected gifts that align perfectly with your interests. (Even if they’re a bit off beat.) “I saw this super limited edition action figure of (favorite character). I had to get it for you—don’t ask me how, just say thank you and let’s run—“

★ Randomly belting out terrible renditions of love songs at the top of his lungs, just to get a laugh from you.

★ Acts tough for your amusement, like he’ll pretend to be all macho around your friends to make you laugh. “Yeah babe, I’m like, indestructible. Just gotta…” *struggles to open a jar of pickles* “wait—hold on. This jar is definitely cheating…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

NSFW 🍆💦

★ Wade love love LOVESSS making you watch while playing with your pussy. Using his mouth, fingers and all kinds of cute little toys.

★ Tying your hands together, behind your back and sitting you in front of the mirror with your legs spread wide as he slowly circles your clit with a bullet vibrator, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “You see how fucking wet you are for me, baby?” “Look. At. This~” “did I say to look away? Didn’t think so…”

★ He’s into all kinds of crazy shit—high key an exhibitionist.

★ Fucking you in a theatre bathroom, pressing you up against the stall while he covers your mouth, dipping the head of his cock teasingly into your aching cunt.

★ “I don’t give one shit if someone hears us, I need you. Now.” “Shhh baby, gotta stay quiet if you wanna cum.” “Stay still now…”

★ Eating you out in the back of the car, hands kneading your plush thighs while looking up at you with that knowing, shit-eating grin. Not even bothering to wipe you from his chin.

★ Struggling to keep your eyes on the man, a red flush taking over your face as the vibrations of his groans send shocks of pleasure through your entire body.

★ Fingering you under the table/using a remote control vibrator on you when you’re out having dinner. “Yeah that’s it for me and uh, what about you babe?” He asks nonchalantly, as if he weren’t bumping the bullet to its highest intensity or running his fingers over your panty clad pussy. All the tasty stuff. It’s the thrill of almost being caught for him.

★ Baby girl also LOVES when you take control. Straddling him, tying him up to the bed, slapping his face. He’s fucking into it.

★ F-fuckk~ wan—wanna touch you so bad~” he whimpers, hips bucking involuntarily while you ride him, bouncing in his lap with your hands on his shoulders and his cuffed. “Mmff—need to cum…please, please—I’ll do whatever you wa—aaah, fffuck!”

★ Wade loves to buy you new toys/lingerie sets all the time! He’ll come through the door with a bag full of new things to try out or on. “Oh, come on—put the bunny ears on…I’ll let you do that one thing you like.”

★ Costumes, dressing up, role play. Cops and robbers, Professor and student, Master and pet. He loves that shit and has a lot of fun with it.

★ “You have the right to remain silent, on your knees, now.” He’ll smirk, cuffing your hands behind your back, trailing a finger down your cheek before fucking your face. “Cock hungry bitch, aren’t ya? Such a good girl…” he croons, pulling at your leash.

★ “You call that begging, honey? Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but you’re gonna have to be louder than that if you want me to fuck you silly.” He teases, sending a sharp smack to your ass while prodding at your slick pussy with his shaft, making you arch and whine out for him.

★ If you’re into it, he has no issue with knife/gun play. “How does it feel…?” he purrs into your ear, slowly sliding the cold metal up your stomach, circling your belly button before trailing up your chest, then collarbone, pressing the blade/barrel to your throat/temple. “Scary? Hot? Scary-Hot?”

★ Loves making you squirt, finger fucking you into oblivion, thumb pressed against your clit until you can’t take anymore. “Fuck yeah, baby.” He pants, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and cleaning them with a simple ‘pop’.

★ “Mhhh…” Wade hums in delight before shoving the same fingers into your mouth—pushing past your teeth, forcing you to taste yourself with a groan “You’re so yummy, don’t you think?”

★ If you’re being a brat, expect proper punishment. “Oooh, talking back to me, huh?” He’ll ask, gripping your face with one hand, forcing you to keep eye contact. “Watch that damn mouth of yours, pretty bitch. And keep riding me—I didn’t say stop.”

★ He’ll make you grind your hips until you’re sore. It’s so fucking good it hurts. “Awww, my poor baby…look at you crying and riding. You must be exhausted, hmm?” Wade grunts, bouncing you on top his lap as if you were a rag doll. His cock slamming into you, hitting that sweet spot—never missing a beat. “Keep going—be a good girl and keep going…”

★ Once you’re both a spent, panting, boneless mess beside each other, he’ll shower you with praise and pepper your face with kisses, combing your unkempt hair with his fingers as he caresses your arm.

★ Wade would set up a diy spa in the bathroom for you. Complete with cucumber slices, a glass of wine (or whatever you want) and a bath that’s wayyy too bubbly. He’d try and give you a foot massage while joking “Only the royal treatment for my queen. Minus the actual royalty…those guys were more fucked up than half of Alabama…”

👽:I wanna be SAVED Deadpool PLEASEEEE SLUT ME OUTTTT

[zriasstuff]

The real thing— Theodore Nott x reader

Short n fluffy drabble

After everyone had left your dorm, you let out a sigh of relief. Finally, you thought to yourself. Unfortunately, due to the terribly cold weather, you had caught a cold. It wasn’t anything dramatic, but enough of a reason to not attend a class.

It turned out to be a blessing in disguise even. Now you could curl up in your warm bed, enjoy a hot cup of tea, listen to some relaxing music- and most important of all, read your favorite books.

Today's read was “the Spanish love deception”. Although reading and understanding classic literature was amongst your passions, cheesy rom com books still hit differently. Besides, since you were sick, you didn’t feel like thinking too hard.

Having read halfway through the book, you have to internally laugh. Not because it was funny, but because it was so utterly ridiculous.

“What’s so funny?”, you suddenly recognize an all too familiar voice. You move your head up, and break into a smile upon seeing your boyfriend standing at the door.

“Feeling better?”, he asks gently.

Even if you weren’t, simply seeing him already brightened your day by so much. When you first started getting to know each other, seeing him always made you nervous and fidgety. Now, every time you saw him, there was nothing but warmth and intimacy.

“Yeah, I am”, you reply. “Wait, shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Why would I be in class when I could be next to you?”, he answered naturally, hopping right into bed with you. Immediately, he starts telling you about how boring his day was without you, while lightly caressing your hair. You look deep into his glistening brown eyes, realizing yet again how lucky you were to simply have him next to you.

While he’s talking, his eyes glance towards your lap, where your book was lying. Theo, seeming highly intrigued, picks it up and starts checking it out by flipping through some pages. Feeling happy that he has taken an interest, you start telling him what it’s about. Perhaps you could read it with him.

“Basically, there are these two people that work together and they hate each other. But, in reality the guy doesn’t hate the woman. Quite the opposite actually. Ugh- and he’s sooo sweet, does all these things for her, protects-

“Soo, you enjoy reading about perfect fictional men?”, he interrupts you mid speech. Theo didn’t sound so sweet now, rather a little doubtful.

“Well, it’s fun”, you admit. “It’s not the best literature ever, but a girl can imagine right?”, you say hoping for some form of agreement.

“Why imagine when you can have the real thing?”, he says insistently, which makes you chuckle. So that’s why he was a little off, he was jealous of a fictional man? Theo was of course just as perfect, and even better- he was real.

You take the book from him and put it on your night stand. “Theo, don’t take it that seriously, you shouldn’t care about what I read”, you say. Still, you couldn’t believe that his reaction was…well how he reacted.

“I don’t care, I just don’t understand why you would read about something like that, if you weren’t trying to tell me something…”

Hell, why was he being so difficult about this? You didn’t imagine that one could read into this so much. But, you had the perfect response for him.

Not letting him say anything else, you cuddle yourself into his arms and give him a small peck on his burning cheek. It was your way of telling him to stop worrying so much and to just shut up.

He must’ve picked up. Soon, he hugged you even tighter, and gave you a kiss on your forehead, whispering “I love you”. “And remember”, Theo adds quietly, “the real thing is so much better than anything you could ever read about”.

Ridiculous.

[achilles-rage]

achilles-rage’s twelve days of christmas

day eight: the man with the bag (ft. evan buckley)

summary: when shopping for some new clothes, you come across something that gives you an idea of how to surprise buck for christmas.

word count: 2.1k

series masterlist

a/n: so sorry this is a day late, i didn’t wanna release a half assed fic because i think this idea is so silly lol. every other fic will still be released on time, so tomorrow, and then every other day after that!! also, i think this is so goofy and borerlines on cringy, but simply embrace the cringe because i think buck would love this scenario LOL. anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: smut, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ only!

You feel like you’re in a scene of an early 2000’s rom com as you walk to Buck’s from the parking lot, your coat clutched between your hands; trying to make sure it stays closed. You know it’ll be worth it once you get to his place, but right now, you feel weird and slightly wrong.

It started when you were doing some online shopping, and when you opened one of your favourite clothing store websites, you saw a big flashing ad for their “holiday lingerie collection.”

You got curious; you had no idea what the holidays had to do with lingerie, so you clicked on it. Much to your surprise, most of the items were pretty normal, just in either red or green, but when you saw the set you had ended up buying, you couldn’t hold back your laughter.

It was silly, and you’re not really sure why you actually ended up buying it, but you know it would make Buck laugh just as much, and it’s a perfect gift-not-gift to give him before the actual gifts you bought for him.

When you finally get to his front door, you knock, anxiously looking down the hall as you wait. When you hear his voice from the other side of the door telling you to come in, you’re quick to turn the knob and slip in.

“Buck?” you call into the house when you look into the kitchen, and then the living room, and don’t see him.

“Up here!” he calls from his room.

Well, that’s sort of perfect, you think to yourself.

You take your coat off quickly, then check yourself out in his entryway mirror one more time, looking down at the bright red, mesh babydoll slip you’re wearing with white fuzzy detailing along the neckline and the bottom hem, and the matching red panties. You make sure your makeup is still in place, and then you take your santa hat out of your bag and put it on before slowly ascending the stairs with a smirk on your face.

“No fucking way.” you say with a giggle when you get to the top of the stairs, your smirk falling as you see Buck laid on his bed in nothing but a pair of red santa pants and a hat.

The smirk falls from his face as well, and his jaw drops, eyeing your curves in your lingerie set. He stands up from the bed and closes the distance between you, chuckling as he reaches out and grabs your hips.

“Did we both have the same idea?” he asks, and you nod, resting your forehead against his bare chest as you laugh along with him.

So much for your funny, sexy, weird idea.

“You look fucking incredible. The perfect Mrs. to my Mr. Claus.” he teases, his eyes dark with lust as he eyes the tops of your breasts peeking out of your slip when you look back up at him.

“Now, we’re gonna find out if you’ve been naughty, or nice.” he purrs, lowering his head towards your neck.

“I was gonna say that!” you exclaim, laughing in disbelief as you push him back from your neck by his chest.

His brows raise in surprise, and then he smiles widely, bringing a finger up to the underside of your chin and pulling your lips up to his.

You’re absolutely perfect for him, he knows it.

He kisses you passionately, clumsily, and his tongue is quick to dart into your mouth when you part your lips to catch your breath.

“I can’t believe you stole my idea.” you whisper against his lips, hands moving down his firm chest to the waistband of his pants.

He chuckles lowly, his hips moving from your hips to your ass, grabbing and kneading it roughly. The fabric of your slip tickles his bare chest, and he’s not sure what he wants more; for you to keep it on, or to rip it off of you himself.

When he begins to walk you back towards the bed, you break the kiss, tutting softly.

“Uh uh, I walked all the way up to your apartment in this.” you argue softly, then flip him around and push him down onto the bed.

He groans as he hits the bed, his hands immediately finding your thighs as you straddle his lap. Your lips find his quickly, and you kiss him with fervour as you begin to slowly grind against him.

“Now, do you think you’ve been naughty, or nice?” you ask when you pull back, massaging his scalp with one hand while your other arm loops around the back of his neck.

“Hmm, I think I’ve been pretty good to you.” he murmurs, his blood running hot when he sees the devilish look in your eyes.

“I don’t know, I think you’ve been naughty. Might have to do something to make it up to me.” you purr, your hips still moving slowly against his.

He smirks, slowly bringing one of his hands up to the waistband of your red panties, letting his fingers dance along the fabric and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“I can do that.” he hums before dipping his fingers under your panties and finding your clit effortlessly. You let out a soft moan, grinding against his fingers as they circle your clit.

“Yeah, you better.” you manage to get out before he’s inserting two of his fingers into your cunt, moving at an achingly slow pace.

You moan quietly, bringing your lips to his as your hips continue to move against his fingers, desperate for more. Your kisses are sloppy as he swallows your moans, tongues licking into each other’s mouths and teeth clacking together as you both get more desperate.

His thumb moves to circle your clit, his fingers speeding up their pace and making you tilt your head back in pleasure, your hands squeezing his biceps in a desperate attempt to keep yourself grounded.

“What are my chances of getting back into your good graces after this?” he rasps, a wicked grin on his face when he sees how easy it is to have you moaning and squirming for his touch.

“Pretty fucking good.” you whimper, bringing your face back down and smashing your lips to his again.

When he curls his fingers up to tap your g-spot, your mewl loudly, back arching as you clench around his fingers.

“Cum for me, baby.” he whispers, parting from your lips and attaching his own to your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin hard.

You fall over the edge with a few more thrusts of his fingers, squeezing your eyes shut as your body goes taut. Buck slows the movements of his fingers slowly, cooing softly as you come down from your high.

When you finally open your eyes, you smile at him lazily, then bring your lips together, humming softly as he brings his hands up to your hips.

Then, in one swift motion, you push him back to lay on the bed completely, his feet still over the edge of the bed and firmly placed on the hardwood as his back hits the sheets.

“Am I on your nice list yet?” he teases, his eyes widening slightly in surprise, but feeling his cock twitch in his pants at the way you take charge.

“Not if you keep asking.” you tease back, pinning his wrists on either side of his head. He groans, smirking as he feels you resuming your grinding against his lap again, hard cock pressing against your dripping folds.

“Yes ma’am.” he whispers before your lips are on his neck, pressing searing kisses down his skin and towards his broad chest. He tries to buck his hips against you, desperate for more friction, and you giggle softly, pulling back from his chest to look down at him.

“Eager, aren’t we?” you tease, smirking. “Keep them there.” you tell him sternly before you take your hands from his wrists.

He’s tempted to grab your hips and flip you over so he’s back in control, but he doesn’t. He loves the way it feels to lay under you like this, and he wants to see it go on for a little while longer.

“Good boy.” you tease, then raise your hips just enough to tug his pants down and let his hard cock spring free. He lets out a ragged moan at the nickname, feeling your fingers ghosting over his length as it hits his stomach.

You pull your panties to the side, and line him up with your entrance, and you don’t waste another second, sinking onto him until he’s completely buried inside of you.

Your hands go back to his wrists as you begin to move, moans tumbling out of both of your lips as he stretches you out.

“God, you feel so good, baby.” he rasps, resisting the urge to get his arms free from your grip. You both know that he could very easily get out of your grip; those muscles aren’t just for show, but it wouldn’t be any fun if he didn’t let you pin him down every once in a while.

“Yeah, you trying to sweet talk me, Buckley?” you tease, rolling your hips against his in a way that has him moaning desperately.

“Is it working?” he asks, letting out a low groan when you lean down and start pressing kisses on his chest, biting and sucking on his skin every now and then.

“Could be.” you whisper against his skin, beginning to bounce on his cock.

He can already feel himself getting close, but he tries to hold back as he watches the way your plush belly and chest move with each bounce.

God, what he’d give to touch your soft skin right now.

When your movements begin to get sloppy, hips moving out of time and your eyes beginning to roll back, he finally rips his wrists from your grip.

He grabs your hips and flips you onto your back before you can react, pushing into you as soon as you’re situated.

You look up at him with a surprised, and slightly dazed expression, and he just chuckles lowly, thrusting into you hard and fast, and moaning loudly as he feels how well you grip his cock.

“What? I’ve still gotta prove that you’re a good girl, don’t I?” he teases, and you let out a quick, breathless laugh, which turns into a moan as he grabs one of your thighs and pulls it up to his hip.

You look up at him, barely able to fight back as you feel the pit forming in your lower belly. Your hands are gripping his biceps hard, and when he brings the hand from your hip up to your neck, you can feel yourself about to fall over the edge.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum for me, baby?” he growls, and all you can do is nod. Your nails are digging into his biceps, making half moon indents in his skin, and he stares into your eyes, wanting to watch your face as you cum on his cock.

With a few more thrusts, you’re clenching and cumming around him, overwhelmed with the feeling of him spilling his seed into your pulsing cunt.

He practically collapses onto you, still buried deep inside you as you both come down from your highs. Your chest is heaving as you hold him close, bringing one hand up and massaging his scalp.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, and then each of your cheeks, and then your nose, and then finally your lips with a soft hum.

He pulls out with a low groan, feeling his release slowly dripping out of your cunt and falling down to the bedsheets under you. He watches your soft belly and chest rising and falling under your nearly-see-through slip with each breath as he kneels over you. He’s unable to resist the urge to place his large hands on your tummy, just to feel your plushness between his fingers.

He lets his hands move up under your slip, slowly squeezing and kneading at your tummy, and you giggle softly, feeling your face and the tips of your ears get

hot at the attention.

“Am I on your nice list, now?” you ask with a lazy grin, watching as he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the middle of your tummy, just above your belly button.

“Oh, absolutely. But now I think I’ve gotta reward you for being such a good girl.” he purrs, moving to hover over you again with a smirk.

Maybe holiday lingerie wasn’t such a bad idea after all, you think as he flips you over onto your stomach.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[nayedoll]

let the light in

joost klein x reader

warnings : fluff / not proof read

a/n: little scrap i wrote at 3am after listening to too much lana del rey and feeling romantic loll 💟

───────────────────────

“So, did you enjoy the film?” Joost asks as you both sit down on a nearby bench, the sea in front of you painted in a palette of oranges, pinks and purples because of the sunset.

You shrug your shoulders, “It was good besides the ending,” Taking a bite of the fries you and Joost had bought with the intention of sharing.

“How so?” Joost furrows his brows, his smile encouraging you to keep on speaking.

You sigh, “Well, in my humble opinion, she should have ended up with the other guy,”

Joost’s eyes are fixed on you, listening intently as you go on a rant about the movie you just watched; it was a rom-com that you, of course, had picked out and definitely didn’t expect Joost to agree to come along with you, knowing his taste in movies. Nevertheless, you’d given it a try because… well, because you really liked Joost, in all the years you’d been friends with him and you had always secretly hoped for something more— and when he actually agreed, you were dumbfounded to say the least; in his own words, it would be like a little date. You knew he meant it as a joke, but still it made your heart race with excitement. But you also knew that for him, you were just a friend— or at least you thought so.

As you finish talking, it is only now that you realize how tiring your rumbling must have been for Joost to listen to and immediately, you apologize for talking so much.

“No it’s fine!” He reassures you, his voice as comforting as ever, “You’re really cute when you get passionate about something,” You smile at him, scoffing at the cheesiness of his compliment but in reality, you like it.

You hold eye contact, like always, but now something feels different in his eyes, more intimate maybe? Your body reacts for you, your face turning to look at the sea, taking time to think; the idea of Joost reciprocating your feelings had never occurred to you before, nor did it now. Maybe you were scared of facing the truth because you couldn’t handle the possibility of things not working out and losing him altogether, or maybe you’re just a coward.

“What are you thinking about?” His voice rings in your ears over the sound of the waves hitting the shore.

All you can do is sigh. “Just think it’s funny that I have so much to say when I’ve never even experienced love like that before,” You say, referring to the film, forcing a dry laugh in an attempt to make your words sound less serious. Joost though, he senses the bitterness in your voice, sees the disappointment in your eyes.

“Don’t say that. I’m sure lots of guys would kill to be with you,”

A smile graces your lips as you feel a jolt in your stomach; could he also be one of those guys? You finally face him, and again, something feels different in the way he looks at you, it almost makes you want to confess to him right then and there. ,

“How would you know that?” You laugh.

“Because you’re the prettiest girl I know,” He answers immediately, and you pause for a second, unsure of how to react; did he mean it? Or were those words of pity?

“Hey,” He says in a low voice, his fingers gently lifting your chin, “I mean it.”

You scan his face as the sun now casts a warm glow on his skin, highlighting his blonde hair and the light blue color of his iris. He’s so beautiful, it hurts to hide from him.

He brushes a few flying strands of hair out of your face, then cups your cheek in his hand, caressing it with his thumb. You can feel him get closer, your body also instinctively leaning towards him, as if a magnet is pulling you to him.

“You’re beautiful,” Joost mutters, your lips almost touching; you hold your breath, your eyes flickering between his lips and his eyes, unsure of how much longer you’ll be able to keep it together.

Joost saves you the trouble and leans in, fully closing the gap between your mouths, gently at first before he deepens the kiss. Your hand reaches for his hair and you play with it, feeling him smile into the kiss.

He pulls away hesitantly to catch his breath, resting his forehead on yours. You sit in comfortable silence, taking in the moment of intimacy, Joost holding your hand tightly. You kiss it, yearning eyes looking up at him as you mouth ik hou van jou to him, this time not just platonically. Joost hugs you you, kissing your forehead, the warmth of his body comforting you in the midst of the cool summer breeze.

“I love you too,”

[littlexdeaths]

who doesn’t love a little double feature sabotage?

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

warnings: sid really is the worst, so many dorky cliches and tropes oops, poor steeb just can’t catch a break, and a little bit of some boob grazing.

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

it was the perfect plan, in theory.

a date night at the hawk and a movie that no one cared about. the darkness and the promise of a practically empty theater would offer you the cover you needed to spend the night with your actual boyfriend.

but as you’ve experienced thus far, nothing ever works out the way you want it to.

the trailers had barely started before he was on you, leaning over the armrest and cupping your jaw in his palm. the bucket of popcorn was knocked to the floor in his rush to get his mouth on you, but you really didn’t mind. it had been well over a week since you’d be alone together, and both were about to burst at the seams.

“i.” kiss. “missed.” kiss. “these” kiss. “goddamn.” kiss. “lips.”

he pulled back with a large grin, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips before they were back on yours.

but like all good things, this had to come to an end.

the opening scene of mystery date had begun to fill the screen when you heard the theater doors swing open. and the boisterous but familiar laughter of your brother and gareth spill into the mostly empty theater.

“god dammit… son of a bitch,” he curses harshly under his breath before he slides out of his seat and onto the floor.

eddie could feel the sticky soda and crushed popcorn beneath his knees, inwardly cringing as he began army crawling toward the end of the aisle.

“wow, what a crazy coincidence!” sid says when he finally spots you, but his shit eating grin told you this was anything but a coincidence. “didn’t know you were on date, mouse.”

they both look at you with a snicker, seeming to enjoy the scowl on your face.

“since when were either of you a fan of rom-coms? thought you’d take heather to see this sid, not gareth.”

they both seem a little taken aback by your response, and gareth sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

“well speaking of dates, where exactly is yours at?”

that’s when the panic begins to trickle in.

“… he’s uh, getting us more popcorn.”

you gesture to the dumped bucket at your feet, and your ability to keep both your brother and gareth distracted gives eddie the opportunity he needs to get up from the floor and promptly book it out of the theater.

you let out a sigh of relief when you hear the theater door close, and you quickly shoot up from your seat.

“you know… he’s actually been gone for a while, i’m gonna go check on him.”

you scoot out of the aisle and past both males, quickly descending the stairs before either of them could say anything else.

once you’re out of the theater, you’re quickly yanked by the collar of your jean jacket and into a storage closet. you trip over a mop bucket and tumble forward into his strong chest.

“you know if you really wanted me all to yourself munson, you could’ve picked a more romantic spot,” you tease.

while it’s pitch black in the closet, but you practically feel him roll his eyes.

“oh yeah, real funny, baby.”

his hands reach up to cup your cheeks, and he leans down. only he completely misjudged the distance between you, and in a rush to feel your lips again— he ends up smashing his nose right into your forehead.

“oh jesus, fuck!” he groans, leaning back against the wall as he holds his nose.

“god, this is going so swell.” you sigh, “you know, we might as well just go in there tell sid everything.”

you turn to leave, blinding reaching for the door handle when he gently pulls you back.

“whoa, whoa, sweetheart— there’s no need to do anything drastic now.”

“well what do you expect me to do, eddie? it’s not like i can just waltz back in there with steve, now can i?”

it’s silent for a beat, then you feel him beginning to toy with the tips of your fingers.

“so, about that...”

eddie had somehow convinced steve to go see a different movie with a date just a few screens down, as a fail safe in case your brother decided to pull some shit— which of course he did.

and in the process of executing this idiotic plan, you pissed off not only steve’s date but half the theater full of people as you practically begged on your knees for him to help you. which ended with his date storming out, but not before slapping him square across the face.

you’d be working a lot more saturday shifts to make up for that humiliation.

but that is how you wound up sitting between your real boyfriend and your fake one… with your brother and gareth on the other side of steve. luckily both sid and gareth were convinced that eddie had gotten their message and showed up to the theater to help them sabotage your date.

absolute idiots.

but when eddie takes the seat beside you instead of the one next to your brother, sid looks at him like he’d grown a second head.

“don’t worry, sid. just making sure harrington here keeps his hands to himself.”

while it was said in jest, your brother somehow missed the underlying jealousy behind his words.

but you don’t.

so when you slip your hand in between the seat to hold onto eddie’s, you instantly feel him relax beside you. while it’s not the most ideal set of circumstances, you’ll still take the small victories where you can get them.

and later when eddie “accidentally” grazes the underside of your boob when he reaches across you for some popcorn, you have to stop yourself from swatting at him. all while trying to hold back a smile.

“and you were worried about steve being handsy.” you say under your breath, and he gently squeezes your hand.

“i don’t know, looks pretty handsy to me.”

you quickly glance down to where your arm was resting against steve’s, the tips of your fingers barely brushing against his larger ones.

“you’re an idiot,” you whisper to him fondly, before turning your gaze back to the screen.

you hear his small snort of laughter, which he quickly disguises as a cough.

“good thing i’m your idiot, sweetness.”

series taglist: @nailbatanddungeon @angel-eyes-and-devil-hearts @mugloversonly @eddiemunsonfuxks @munsonhoneybaby @alagalaska @creative1writings @missmarch-99 @stolen-in-moonlight @xxbimbobunnyxx @calumfmu

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