#this all started with an idea for an Ed fic

[pinkaditty]

Starstruck Coral (Romeo Lucci x Reader; Tokyo Debunker)

okay so uh. i don’t really know how to explain this one. like truly i don’t. i feel like it came 2 me in a vision from a higher power or something bc this doesn’t feel like it was my own idea, much less self-indulgent, but regardless??? i actually like it!!!!

a/n: what i can say is that this was directly inspired by me buying this lip plumper tint called "Starstruck Coral" and how literally everyone around me once i put it on was like "ITS SO PRETTY!!" so yea. that's what this is. also. yea. been writing a lot of porn-free fics lately. don’t worry, im not uninspired. rather, i just wanna focus on budding feelings 4 a little while. then it’ll be back 2 porn i promise. im too insane 2 be kept from porn 4 very long i fear. 

maybe part 2? maybe? idk yet i dunno. i might. i might not. we’ll see what my brain says…

summary: romeo cannot stand your visage so he styles it to his liking. why are you suddenly the belle of the ball? (leo, rui, haru, ed, and lyca make guest appearances here lol)

cw: some sexual comments. minors dni as per usual. no smut i fear!

“...Why are we doing this, again?”

“Shut up.” Romeo’s voice is practically seething with barely restrained anger as you interrupt his focus for the umpteenth time. He holds up one finger in the air towards you, not even turning to look at you. He slowly puts his finger down, and his hands twitch, clearly resisting the urge to ball into fists. “Just shut up. Let me handle this.”

Romeo continues perusing the available colors. Pearlescent White, Modest Matte Mauve, Cherry Pop Red, Hot Tease Pink, Starstruck Coral, and Raven’s Wing Black. He narrows his eyes and whips his head around to your face, studying your features intensely. His eyes pause on your lips, and he frowns as you roll them between your teeth nervously. 

“Would you stop-! Urgh, nevermind.” He starts before abruptly stopping, turning fully towards you and grabbing your face, directing it in different angles in the light. He pays strong attention to your lips, noting the thickness, color, and shape of them. He grumbles to himself, looking back at the colors on the shelf. Only one seems to be a perfect match.

Starstruck Coral. That’s the one.

He plucks it off the shelf and places it in the basket before stalking off to the cash register. He knows you know to follow him, and you do, meekly following his steps, still unsure of the purpose of this outing. You shift idly from one foot to the other as he pays at the cash register, listening to the general ambiance of the store. People chattering, items being scanned, wheels of carts rolling along the tile floor. You’re idly reading the label of a pop culture magazine when Romeo appears at your side, sour expression etched into his face. It makes you jump, and he looks at you with an even sourer expression. “Let’s go,” is all he says, his voice loud and demanding, leaving little room for argument. He walks off again, casting a look over his shoulder to ensure you’re following him, which you are, confused expression still stuck on your face. 

The two of you return to the Darkwick train station through a door labeled “Employees Only”, careful not to get caught. Once you board the train, Romeo unceremoniously tosses the bag of products towards you and sits across from you. His expression is enough to broadcast that he’s more than over this, despite having spent hours meticulously scanning the available products to find the ones that best matched your skin. He studies you again as you take your seat and the train begins to move. His eyes rove over your face again, as though picking apart your appearance in search of flaws. He hardly flinches when you look up and catch his gaze, though when you nervously turn away, he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Go on. Ask what you want to ask.” His voice comes out exactly as exasperated as he’d meant it to be. He would hope this would discourage you from asking any questions, but he knew better than that.

He watches you shift nervously before speaking up, looking down at your fingers fidgeting with the bag instead of making eye contact with him. “...What is all of this for?”

He exhales, already sick of answering your questions even though he hadn’t answered any. “That anomalous cloak does not do your makeup for you.” Part of him assumes this would be enough explanation, but at your still confused expression, he rolls his eyes and continues explaining. “I am tired of going on missions with someone as basic and unappealing as you. If you are going to be a constant, I insist you at least know how to do your makeup to fit in when we go on high-class missions.” He doesn’t bother sugarcoating anything. Instead, he leans back in his seat again, deciding this was a job well done. He hears the crinkling of the bag and pops one eye open, watching you as you study the products in the bag. You pull out the Starstruck Coral lip tint and suddenly you have his full attention. He opens both eyes and tries to discreetly lean forward, watching as you turn the box around in your hands. He was awful proud of that choice. It was the perfect ombre blend of coral and pink, not too warm and not too cool. It would match your undertone perfectly and it even had a shimmering quality to it. So long as you wore it right, he was sure it��d refine your appearance an exceptional amount. 

After finishing praising himself for his genius internally, he leans his head back onto his seat, content to just get this over with. As long as you didn’t look as constantly unappealing as you usually did on missions, it would be fine. He couldn’t get why, but it irritated him. Granted, your skin was okay at best. There were some acne scars here and there, blackheads all over your nose, and slightly puffy undereye, which he suspected was from not getting enough sleep on this accursed campus. Other than those faults, your skin was okay. No visible outbreaks or dryness. He had to applaud you for at least taking his advice to heart and moisturizing a little bit. It had done noticeable wonders, at least to him. 

He hears the unmistakable sound of plastic wrap being torn, and he perks up again, noticing you unwrapping the Starstruck Coral lip tint. He leans forward again, curiosity suddenly bubbling within him. “Put it on.” He says before he can think about it, his eyes focused on the small unwrapped box in your hands.

“...Huh?” You give him a puzzled look, tilting your head. His eyes flick towards you in annoyance and he gestures towards the box, his eyebrows furrowing in irritation.

“Don’t be dense, put it on!” 

You nod hurriedly, and he can tell from the way your eyes glimmer that you’d wanted to try it. He has to resist the urge to smile, your subtle but affirming reaction filling him with pride. He watches as you open the box and pull out the lip tint, turning it over in your hands before unscrewing it open. Romeo can already feel himself growing impatient, idly tapping his foot as he waits for you to start. “It may be a little messy because I don’t have a mirror, but I’ll do my best.” You warn him, finally unscrewing the tint, admiring the pretty ombre color. He sits up when you speak, and unbeknownst to you, a scowl crosses his face momentarily. You hear his footsteps before you see him, crossing the short distance across the train in record speed and snatching the tint away from you before you could apply it with shaky hands. 

When you look up at him questioningly, he shakes his head, holding the tint and applicator brush in his hand. “Just hold still.” 

With that, he leans over you, placing the thin tube of tint in your hands and firmly holding your chin, his eyes seemingly glued to your lips. “Open.” When you do as he says, he gently applies the tint to your bottom lip, pursing his own lightly glossed lips as he focuses. He exhales, and fails to notice the way you shiver, his breath fanning over your neck. His knuckles gently press into the soft skin of your cheek and chin as he carefully follows the border of your lips, watching as the plush skin yields to the pressure before plumping up again. Somewhat caught between a haze of his intense focus applying the tint and unexpected fascination with the buoyancy of your lips, Romeo accidentally smudges some of the tint. Despite his bubbling annoyance at his own blunder, for a moment, it’s an almost charming imperfection. The lip tint glitters against your skin, smudged just off the corner of your parted lips. If he were any more brazen, he would have given in to the odd temptation unfurling in his stomach to simply kiss it away. Fortunately for him and his own reputation, he’s far more proper than that. With a pointed glare at the corner of your lips, he wipes away the smudge with his gloved thumb. He glances at the sparkling residue left on his glove before wiping it away onto your top lip. When you flinch in response, he has to suppress a shiver down his spine. This action was inexplicably intimate, yet he didn’t understand where his flusteredness was coming from. There was no reason to act nor feel like this.

He applies the tint to your top lip in a more rushed fashion, suddenly wanting to replace the earlier distance between you two. He frowns when he finishes, nitpicking any slight smudges or missed spots, before stepping away, admiring his work. “There.” He plucks the tint from your grasp, screwing the applicator back on and tossing it into the bag. “...This might be good enough,” he says, feigning confidence, but he can hear the way his voice wavers with uncertainty, a part of him itching to do more. His gaze flickers upwards to meet yours and an idea pops into his head. He could do your lashes. They were long by itself, but some of the mascara he’d bought couldn’t hurt. Despite himself, he finds himself sitting back down in front of you, reaching for and holding your chin firmly again. He turns your head every which way, determining what else he could do to refine your appearance some. Unfortunately, he’s aware this train ride ends soon, and he feels himself getting nauseous at the idea of spending more time with you than he has to, despite the anticipation crawling up his spine. He reaches for the bag again, pulling out the mascara he’d bought earlier. When you reach out your hand to apply it yourself, he gently swats your hand away. “No. Hold still.”

He doesn’t give you much choice, still holding your chin and pulling your face closer to his. He purses his lips again, telling you not to blink as he applies your mascara. He finds himself staring at your eye color, noting the color of the mascara in comparison. Perhaps next time he ought to choose something that made your eyes stand out more, or maybe that’d be easier done with some eyeshadow in the correct shade. He decides to halt his thoughts there, scowling. He had to focus, and he was damn well sure there wouldn’t be a ‘next time’. He internally recoils at the thought of having to peruse the shelves with you over his shoulder again, constantly shifting your expressions, making it harder for him to focus. The slight furrow in your brow even now was distracting, and all he could think about was how he wanted to remind you that frowning causes wrinkles, and you would be especially susceptible to them if you didn’t keep up your skincare regime. Instead, he lets go of your chin and flicks you between your brows, frowning at you himself. When you get the message and relax your expression, he nods appreciatively and continues his task, moving to your other eye. 

Finally, the task was complete. His eyes flick back and forth between your eyes, watching as you blink at him dubiously. When satisfied, he pulls away, screwing the applicator back into the mascara and observing your face. Your eyes seemed wider and brighter, and the added mascara helped your lashes appear longer. Your lips were bright and shimmering, still covered in that Starstruck Coral color. Romeo smiles to himself, proud with how he managed to turn around your appearance with so little. He reaches for your face again, holding your cheeks with considerable tenderness, as though scared one wrong move would smudge and ruin the perfect portrait of you. He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath as he gazes at you, checking your entire face for imperfections, glazing over the negligible or unnoticeable imperfections that couldn’t be immediately cleared. He exhales, feeling himself gleam with pride as a reluctant smile digs into his cheeks yet again. He sits down beside you, still holding your face. “Non c'è male…” He mutters to himself, finding his gaze lingering again on the pretty ombre mesh of pink and orange and red on your lips. Truly, Starstruck Coral had been the right choice. 

He’s basking in his pride more when he hears the shutter click of a camera, and a whistle in a familiar voice. “Now this will do numbers on WickHive.” The same familiar voice cackles and Romeo already knows he hadn’t moved away quickly enough to avoid the picture. One glance up and there he is, Leo, staring down smugly at his phone, where the incriminating image is probably being held. Surprisingly, hunched over Leo’s shoulder is Rui, inspecting the picture with a crease in his brow. Romeo cannot believe his lack of luck. 

Romeo catches it when Rui makes eye contact with you, and it doesn’t escape him how Rui’s eyes flicker with an emboldened interest. Stepping past Leo, Rui heads to you with an extra skip in his step, wide smile already spreading across his face. His voice is higher than usual, and Romeo wonders if mere makeup was enough to trip up the ladykiller himself. “Woooow, MC!” He stops a short distance away from you, his eyes flickering across your face as he takes in your makeup. “You look cuter than usual today. What’s brought this on, huh?” Rui’s tone is filled with mirth as he pokes your nose playfully. Romeo stiffens and has to bite back the urge to swat his hand away from your face. 

Romeo carefully watches your reaction, and is almost relieved when you don’t smile immediately. “You like it? I haven’t seen how it looks yet.” You reply to Rui, a little hesitant but clearly glad for the praise. 

Rui sticks his bottom lip out in a mock pout. “Awww, you should! You look so cute!” His face breaks out into a wide smile again, and it’s almost crushingly obvious that Rui’s a flirtier version of Kaito at this point. “I’m assuming we have you to thank for this, hm?” Romeo looks up to notice Rui’s gaze on him as Rui vaguely gestures in your direction. 

Romeo doesn’t resist the urge to puff his chest out a bit, folding his arms indignantly. “Indeed.” His terse answer doesn’t hide his swelling pride, he’s aware, but brevity is the soul of wit, which he likes to claim to possess.

“He picked out some makeup items for me.” You chime in, holding up the bag with a relaxed smile. It seems you’ve finally taken to Rui’s compliments. 

Rui shakes his head with a complicated look in his eyes, clearly picking up on the message behind the gift, but happy for you nonetheless. “Well, leave it to Romeo to pick out such a pretty color. It suits you.” Rui winks at you before finally finding a seat on the train, just across from you, taking Romeo’s former seat.

Leo, who’s clearly been either editing the picture or waiting his turn to soak up all the attention, saunters up to you, smug smile still on his face. Romeo doesn’t miss how your earlier smile seems to fade all at once. He would laugh, but it’s not that funny. 

“Gotta say, I agree with Rui. Who knew…” Leo trails off, his fingers reaching for your chin and holding it with uncharacteristic tenderness, tilting your face upwards towards him. Romeo notices how you stiffen at the contact. “...That the honor student could be—” Leo suddenly snaps his lips shut, and Romeo can tell from the way his lips purse despite being in a smug smirk that he had to bite back a compliment. Leo only falters slightly, brow creasing minutely before quickly straightening again, lips quirking back up into a teasing smile, more words as demeaning as they were saccharine sweet on the tip of his tongue. “Well, it suits you. You might even be unrecognizable enough to pass as a beauty in this picture.” Leo smirks, waving his phone in his hand. 

Romeo finds himself intervening before he can really think about it. He swats Leo’s hand away from your chin. “Stop that. You’ll smudge her foundation.” A blatant lie, but it would be sound enough to get him to back off, Romeo hopes. Something about this was fraying at his nerves. 

Leo raises a crooked brow at Romeo, a slow, shit-eating grin spreading across his face. “I don’t know, Romeo. The blackheads on her nose account for a lack of any foundation at all. Nice try, though.” Romeo should be thankful Leo lets it go, but all he can do is turn away indignantly, feeling his face burn with embarrassment. He hears a chuckle before light footsteps padding away, and gently exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. By god, of all people to board the train at that moment… 

Rui walks at a much faster pace than you and Romeo, strained expression on his face. He’d left Lyca and Ed in charge of the bar while he was off on a short mission, as he explained earlier, and could only hope that they hadn’t mistakenly set the bar on fire. 

Romeo was headed to the bar for drinks, and as far as he was concerned, you were coming with him. The earlier incident with Leo convinced him he cannot let you out of his sight for today. Leo had cited some excuse for not coming to the bar, but Romeo could tell from the grin Leo flashed his way that he can expect that picture to be all over WickHive by evening. A drink to forget it, even temporarily, would be enough for Romeo. 

Rui heaves a sigh of relief as he steps into the bar, glad to find nothing on fire nor destroyed, but Lyca doing the work while Ed sits perched at the bar. A red shock of hair buried in a white sleeve also denotes another guest. Romeo has to grit his teeth, remembering how Haru went on and on about you after first meeting you. He can only imagine the endless waterfall of praise he’ll surely come up with on the spot seeing you even remotely dolled up. He makes a mental note to bring painkillers for the inevitable headaches he gets when he comes here and Haru happens to arrive. 

Clearly, Romeo needs to be more forthright about how he’s trying to protect his ears, because when you plop yourself down in the seat right next to Haru, all he feels is dread. He quickly slips into the seat on your other side, despite there being no remaining danger. 

Rui, finally behind the bar, gently nudges Haru. He immediately raises his head, and Romeo can’t tell if he woke up that quickly or was already awake and out of it so soon. The faint blush on his face indicates the latter. As Haru reorients himself, Romeo notices Lyca peering at you oddly. He’d never so much as heard this boy speak, but something tells him he’s going to be as much as, if not more of, a headache than Haru. 

“Oh, hi MC-! …Wait. Something’s different about you.” Haru’s voice had its classic drawl it always had when he’s getting close to being hammered. Romeo’s sure it’s loud enough to be heard from Obscuary’s entrance. He watches, jaw clenched tight as Haru inspects you. Boldly, and probably not realizing how drunk he is, Haru reaches out, his gloved fingers lightly tracing the skin above your eyebrows. Romeo notices you don’t recoil at this touch, but he doesn’t know if it’s because you know he’s drunk or if you happen to not dislike Haru. Both options are less than ideal.

Puzzled expression still stuck on his face, Haru traces his fingers downwards, caressing your cheek. “Yea…” He mutters to himself, his eyes tracing the path of his fingers. “Something’s…” his fingers reach the corner of your lips, “...Different…Oh!” His eyes widen like it’s finally occurred to him, and his gaze remains transfixed on your lips, shimmering coral color still bright and undisturbed on them. “You’re wearing makeup!” 

“Is that what that is?” Lyca cuts in, suddenly appearing behind you, craning his neck to get a good look at your face. He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing your appearance before leaning away, satisfied. He crosses his arms, a light blush dusting his face as he tries to ignore the staring he just did. “Hmph. It’s pretty.” His compliment is short and terse, but Romeo can tell from your relieved sigh that you’re happy to receive it nonetheless. However, said compliment is quickly followed up by: “...You reek of the damn blond gigolo, though.”

Rui stiffens behind the bar, cleaning a glass. “Come on, my cologne isn’t that potent.” He looks up from his task to find all five of you avoiding his gaze. 

Ignoring Rui’s distressed cry of shock, Haru turns to you again. “Lyca’s right. It is pretty. Though…” Haru leans towards you, his chin propped up in his hands, “I always thought you were quite the looker, you know.” His smile is disarmingly handsome, even to Romeo. His flushed cheeks and lovestruck gaze probably only add to it. Romeo suppresses a gag, turning away. 

Rui, having partially recovered from the prior shock, also leans towards you, resting his cheek in his palm, partially hiding a cheeky smile. He hums in agreement with Haru, nodding. “Can’t disagree with that. You’re an attractive gal.”

Romeo shivers, ready to pull you away from Haru and Rui’s gazes. When Lyca cranes his neck to gaze at you again, Romeo snaps. 

“Will you horny dogs keep your dicks in your pants and your lascivious gazes off of her?!” He knows he’s one to talk considering the way your lips simply shimmering was enough to disarm him on the train, but still. This was ridiculous. 

“Really, now…” A soft, low, velvety voice echoes through the silence following Romeo’s outburst. Ed appears behind you, gently placing his hands over your ears. He mockingly frowns disapprovingly at Romeo. “Using such vulgar language in front of a lady…” He shakes his head and tuts a few times, a smile crawling onto his face. “Surely you know your manners?”

Rui chimes in, teasing grin all over his face. “He may need a refresher on them.”

With that, Haru, Rui, and Ed dissolve into snickers, just as Romeo bursts into a blush. Lyca, off to the side, looks a little confused. 

“I don’t get it. Why not use words like that in front of her?”

Romeo’s walking you home. He insisted on it. He wasn’t about to let a repeat of him being humiliated yet again by your side, nor was he going to let some other ghoul or normal human lay his eyes on you, at that. Maybe this makeup was a bad idea. But then, he turns to sneak a quick glance at you. Your expression appears quite pleased, and your shimmering lips are curled into a small smile. 

Well. Maybe it wasn’t that bad of an idea. 

“Thank you.” Romeo’s surprised to hear you pipe up, and turns towards you questioningly. 

“For what?”

“For the makeup.” You gaze at him kindly, giving him a small smile. He’s taken aback by it. “Can’t say you were kind about it, but I appreciate it regardless.” 

Romeo hardly stiffens at the comment. He knows he wasn’t particularly kind about it, but that’s the point. How else is someone who can hardly remove their blackheads going to take proper care of their skin? He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, letting his thoughts run around his head. Part of him wondered if he had another reason for buying you makeup in the first place, and why this entire gift felt like it was only going to bite him in the ass later. Maybe it already was, what with how you’d managed to catch the attention of every single ghoul they’d encountered today. But that didn’t make sense. Why would you gaining attention bite him in the ass? He shakes his head, a blush forming on his face as though he already knows the answer. 

“Shut up. Just use it on missions.” Romeo’s response is as terse as ever, quick and to the point. He watches as you roll your eyes, and something in him twinges, partially wishing he could’ve given a nicer comment. 

When you arrive at the chapel, he watches you bound up the steps, sticking around despite himself. He musters up an obligatory “Good Night,” right before you close the door on him, and he watches as your shimmering Starstruck Coral lips pull into a grin. 

“Goodnight, Romeo.”

He turns away as you close the door, ready to fill the rest of his walk back to Sinostra with more pondering. His phone buzzing in his pocket interrupts his peace, however, and he turns it on only to find an innumerable amount of notifications from WickHive. 

“Kurosagi…” He curses his name under his breath. “When I get you…”

a/n: yippee!!!!!!! im surprised i managed to finish this. i honestly like it a lot, i think it's really cute and i like the way i wrote it. i genuinely hope you guys like it too!!!!!

shameless note that, as usual, i love likes, comments, tagged reblogs, and asks!! please feel free to let me know in any way you like just how much you loved my writing! it's what keeps me going!

until next time!!!

EDIT BC I SOMEHOW FORGOT?: a few hc's im adding 4 relevance's sake:

rui wears strong cologne and douses himself in it

haru has grey eyes

that's all yippee!!

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

I don’t know shit about overwatch. I am not in the over watch fandom I’m in the Junkrat fandom. Which is to say that I have an idea and k really want to write it!!! But I don’t know how. I want to write about Junkrat and Roadhog getting out of junkertown and the outskirts, getting safe and like getting better. Healthy diets, less explodey, no more radiation.

Do you really think Junkrat treats his wounds properly? Do you really think they have the stuff to treat them?

I would love to write it, but I don’t know exactly how it would happen? Why would the two even leave? Why would they ever agree to anything like that? I mean I feel like it would have something to do with Overwatch but idk, I don’t know anything about this fandom.

[minakoainosupremacy]

I’m sad, I’ve had a bunch of fun cool ideas sitting in the back of my head since like new years which I wanted to use for rare pair week, but like life has been kicking my ass so I didn’t have time to even start anything and now it’s over :( guess they will just keep living in my head until next year

[sugarverse]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request either long or short fic about Tenya Iida. Likes it can be set in a modern setting where's he's a senior college student who's majoring in business and he has to take one more class to get his degree. It just so happened that the class is in the art building, and it is figure drawing (aka nude drawing) . Since he's just now hearing of the extra class he has to take, he's suddenly shocked when the model is an old friend of his from back home, whom he had a childhood crush on. Not only does his feelings for her come back, but he also has to have 1 on 1 section with the model for educational purposes. I kinda want it to be smut and fluff or however you see it fit. Anyway, I hope it's enough+

hi babe! omg I love this idea I kinda went a lil crazy and made it way too long. I hope u enjoy :)!!

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.5k

mentions of: This is really just the fluff portion of it, kinda suggestive bc he pops a boner and leads to sex in part two. I think I’m going to make a third part simply so the two of you can go on a genuine date andsotheresmoreiidaxblackreaderouthere.

a/n: hells yeah that’s enough, hopefully I did what ya asked and so sorry I went overboard I have serious problems. here’s the smut part bc a 6.7k fic is doing too damn much but i can’t stfu my fault gang

moodboard here!

Tenya Iida.

4th year, Senior in college majoring in International Business and minoring in Spanish at Angelwood College of Arts and Sciences.

The visual arts building had only been a few minutes away from the business side of campus, which he gladly enjoyed the walk. This spring all he needed to finish was two gen ed classes, the rest revolved around his major and minor. His counselor helped set up his ‘missing’ classes before winter break considering he had to fly back to Japan to see his family for the holidays. He was ecstatic to learn all he needed was an art class with lab and a communications class. 

When he asked what the class entailed, all he was met with was “beginner artists learning anatomy.” It didn’t sound difficult, just draw what you see. It would be nice to try something new anyway. He was not much of an artist but like all things Tenya does, he planned to give this class his all. The first week had been pretty easy, learning how to draw what you see with the use of models, shapes, and lines. Nothing too hard to follow. He would practice drawing his friends on the sketchpad he bought specifically for the class as a form of studying in the free time he had.

He neverminded it for the most part, excelling his knowledge in different countries in his free time to get better at his major. Sure they could teach you the technical way to do things, but in the end, everyone is still human. It would be inconsiderate to do business with a country and know little to nothing about their culture! It took almost two weeks for him to finally be able to even start the art project anyway.

As time went on and the January snow grew less and less, it was time to start their first real project of the semester. One on One figure drawing. The class needed to fill out a form explaining their free hours due to the limited art space and everyone's different schedules. Tenya happily filled it out when it was posted, continuing to work on class work from the library so that the lecture room could also be used for said project.

Their professor had explained that in-person class would remain on Mondays and Thursdays. It just worked out better for the models and students to have so much space.

He made the small walk over to the arts building for his last class of the day, a small shine in his glasses as he entered the white light of the room. The walls were anything but bare, artwork and unfinished projects sat in every corner of the room. Paint racks, canvases big and small, even stacks of unused clay. There was a stool sitting on a small platform in the middle of the room, assuming where the model will sit. 

He stood next to the stool for a moment, looking up at the grey February sky through the skylight. The natural lighting was great, almost like a spotlight. He adjusted the lights in the room a moment, dimming them slightly so the white light hadn’t been so harsh on his eyes. He headed over to a more organized table, setting out the art supplies how he liked. He knew he was early, but he wanted to make a good first impression. What’s better than being on time?

He pulled out his laptop, checking that the few assignments for today were done and submitted. A small frown tugged at his lips as he realized he hadn’t finished something completely, typing in the last few answers. He always double checked, technology was reliable.. When it wanted to be. He couldn’t hear the shuffle of slippers against the floor over his typing and frankly, loud thinking. 

He could see someone walk past in a teal robe representing the university's colors. Glancing up from the computer to give the model a proper hello, Tenya opens his mouth to speak but pauses. 

“Y/n?” He asked, almost in a whisper in case he was wrong. A small look of confusion caused him to tilt his head to the side slightly. He hadn’t been able to see you for awhile with such busy schedules, but he knew your silhouette by heart. 

You turn at the sound of your name, mid sliding off the slippers and fumbling with the gold silk of the belt. “Tenya?” You smile, asking as you turn to slide your shoes back on and quickly shuffle your way over to him. He felt his face burn red, frozen in place for a moment with his jaw slack. He stood as if needing to detach from the seat, smiling at your happy demeanor and your quickness to wrap your arms around him. 

“It is you! I know those shoulders from anywhere!” You beamed, feeling his hovering hands slowly place themselves on your back to return the hug. He was very hesitant, simply because you were only in a robe. You pull away, hands resting on your hips and giving him a big smile. “Now what are you doin’ taking a figure drawing class, Mister businessman?”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, “I needed an art credit, W-What are u doing here?” He never had any classes with you at Angelwood, A few honors classes and gym in highschool but other than that, nada. Throughout the course of growing up, your interests drove you to different classes. 

However, classes don't matter when your families are as close as yours and the Iida family. Shared Holidays, playdates, game nights.. It wasn’t like you were some stranger. You both always made time to hang out a few times during the year to catch up without the family just to give a real check on each other. It was his favorite, almost like a mini holiday to talk to you.

He loved spending time with you. You were smart, articulated and incredibly creative. You never took slack from anyone.. Even in middle school he can remember you being the one to stand up and say something when things weren’t right. You were headstrong and determined in anything that you did.. Art majors always get a lot of grief but you never let that deter you. And that was admirable in itself! ..And he had always thought you were so pretty. 

He felt like a kid again, heart feeling as if it’d beat out of his chest at the mere sight of you. It had been around Halloween the last time he saw you, and here it was. Almost Valentine's day.. Still as pretty and bright as he remembered. Your next hangout wasn't for another month or so, so it was nice to see you sooner than that.

“I'm your model, silly!” You head over to the stool, continuing to speak. “The art department asked if I’d help in modeling and I said yes! People were too scared to sign up for the most part. I’m surprised this is the class you picked. Did you want to learn how to draw people?” You slide your slippers off once more, untying the cute bow on your hip that held your robe shut. 

Suddenly the room was very hot and he couldn't breathe. Now his heart really WAS beating out of his chest. He quickly did a 180, shielding his eyes and removing his glasses for extra measure. “WHY– do yoU have.. nothing on underrrrneath?” He croaked, voice cracking as his tone raised slightly.

You tilt your head at such a question, the gears clicking a little later than they should have. “Figure drawing is um.. Nude drawing, Tenya. You didn't know that?” You slide the robe back on, giggling at the flustered man across from you. You could see his shoulders tense, shaking his head slowly.

Now how the fuck could he have missed that.

“I um.. No, I didn't. I thought that it was.. I don't know what I thought. My counselor picked it for me and I.. Most models we've used so far have.. had skin colored undergarments… On.” He let out a nervous laugh, keeping his glasses off. He turns around, cleaning them with the end of his shirt but refusing to look up at you. He needed to mentally prepare his brain to be professional in a situation like this. Not that he minded the glance, he just never thought this would be how..

You prop your feet onto the edge of the stool, interrupting his thought. You held your knees up to your chest so he couldn’t see anything but your bare legs. “Oh Ten, I’m sorry! I can ask someone else to-”

“No! I am perfectly.. capable. It's professional and I can be.. professional..” He put his glasses back on, hand refusing to be steady as he did so. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling at you and finally looking at you once more.

You let out a small laugh at the blush on his cheeks. He was so handsome, but to see him so flustered over little ol’ you? It made your week. “We can start slow, that might help.” you slide the robe down your shoulders, slowly putting your legs back down so he could see your robed torso once more. You stopped at the top of your breasts, letting your collarbone show. “Do you have any specific poses..?” You ask quietly, trying to hold back your amusement.

He sits down, red faced and completely flushed. A nude model.. jeez. From sleepovers to recess, studying together to graduating, and now almost graduating for the final time together. That's something you don’t get to have in every lifetime. But why do these thoughts keep coming back to him now? 

There was no way he could still have romantic feelings for you. He’d never put your friendship at risk like that!

..right?

“I um.. yeah, small.” He cleared his throat, “Could you um.. Could you stand slightly off of the um.. Almost like getting up?” He fumbled over his words, staring at the empty paper as if he could burn the quick image in his brain onto the page to get the embarrassment over with. He sighed once more, trying to focus as he began sketching circles and lines as a starter sketch of the pose he wanted.

“When you need to draw a certain part I'll move it, Sound fair?” You ask, resting one foot onto the stool and one onto the ground. Your hand gripped the seat as your butt sat on the edge, similar to when people do that supposedly hot thing where they throw their head back and pull some weird rope to have water get poured on them. 

It was second nature at this point for people to see you. Of course some of them were flustered and it was pretty awkward at first, but normally not to the point of stuttering and stammering. It wasn’t often that you saw Tenya fall apart, but this was way different. Especially considering you flashed him without warning. He was one of the most endearing people you had ever met, there was no way you would have done that without proper context.

He could only nod in response, not wanting to further make a fool of himself. Lightly tapping the pencil against the table, He looks up at you. “You can um.. re.. remove the top part, y/n..” It was hard to simply draw your arms and collarbone without including the robe, so you might as well rip the band-aid off and start with the top. 

You nod, dropping it happily and letting the robe pull around your hips and between your legs. You close your eyes, facing up toward the skylight in an attempt to make him less nervous. “Sorry for flashing you at first, I would have explained but I assumed you had already known..?” You laugh quietly to yourself at your own mistake. Why would someone like him even take this class if he knew what it actually entailed?

And God, did he feel like a pervert staring at your chest like this. The boner poking his thigh almost immediately didn't help, making it even harder to concentrate. Way to keep composure. He pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I had no idea, I’m sorry for my r..reaction.” He answered, stopping the pencil tapping to actually begin sketching more than just circles and lines. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt like he was close to passing out. 

“I think it was a pretty valid one.” You send a reassuring smile his way, seeing him send you one right back. Trying to ease the mood, you look back up at the ceiling and close your eyes to avoid staring at the ugly overcast sky above you. “How was winter break? You get to go home and see your family? How are they?” 

His smile grew wider at your question, scooting under the desk a bit more so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice his body reacting. “They’re great, Tensei is getting married soon,” He sounded excited at the thought alone, incredibly proud of his brother. 

“And my mother has started a hobby making soap, if you can believe it. She sent me some to bring back one that smells like lavender and another that smells like oranges mixed with I believe she said papaya.? She made a coconut smelling one for you– I was going to give it to you the next time we saw each other,” 

The sound of his sketching stopped and started as he spoke, giving your body small glances as he tried to study each part of your upper torso. The way your stomach creased, The way your shoulder was slightly lifted causing your collarbone to be more prominent, the curve of your breasts.. “How was your Holiday, y/n?”

“No way, Tensei is getting married?!” You accidentally stop posing, fully facing him in genuine shock. The robe was still covering your lower half, you had tied the belt to avoid accidentally flashing him again but here we are. You watch his face become even more red, eyes very obviously not meeting yours but still like a deer in headlights. 

You quickly get back to posing how you were, “Sorry Ten, That's amazing!! I hope everything goes smoothly for him and his soon to be wife.. And tell your mommy I said thank you for thinking of me. I can't wait to try it!”

A smile stayed on your lips as you thought about the times you’ve spent in the Iida household. His mother always had the best candles and incense burning, you were positive the soap would be the same. “My family is up to the same old shit, you know them..” You let out a small groan, the holidays weren’t an absolute disaster, but after not being home so long makes you remember why you aren’t going to school anywhere near home. 

“I did get some cool stuff for Christmas though! I got some new clothes and they got me a few art kits. You know, where it teaches you how to crochet? I also have a new diamond painting kit, I haven't opened either yet because it's just been so busy.” You replied, tapping your fingers on the side of the stool where your hand sat. 

You look up once more, this time because the skylight was beginning to be covered in snow. You watched as it fell, thinking back to old times when you and Tenya would spend the last three major holidays with each other. You’d always make sure to trick or treat together, your families have been sharing Thanksgiving for as long as you can remember, and spending the night in your basement on Christmas eve to wait for Santa until you were both too old. Then instead of waiting for Santa, you’d all eat at least one meal together on Christmas day. Sometimes homemade breakfast, other times a small trip to IHOP or Waffle House.

“God damn it.. It’s snowing again..” You let out a small laugh, looking over at him over your shoulder, fingers still tapping away at the base of the stool. “Hey Ten, Do you remember when we used to have those big snowball fights? The one near Red Fern?” 

“Of course I do! You refused to wear any kind of gloves and my mother would make you at least put socks on your hands so you didn’t get frostbite!” The two of you shared a small laugh at the memories of being young and dumb.

“Gloves always made my hands too itchy! They still do– But I kicked your ass in snowball fights with gloves or not.” You retort, a smirk appearing on your face. “Ice queen y/n of everything.” You could remember the insane snowball fights the neighborhood kids would have every. time. It snowed. If there was enough to make a few snowballs, there was enough to start a war. Tenya was always on your team, but it never stopped you from throwing a few his way. The ‘winner’ was King or Queen of the hill and first to sled down, which often enough was you.

“Remember when you almost broke my glasses throwing one right at my face?” He snickered, watching your smirk turn into a small pouty frown. He knew you didn’t mean to, that same day you helped your mom make cookies for him and his family as an apology, even though he wasn’t upset to begin with. But you knew it could have broken his glasses and you would be devastated if you were the reason for it. You were a real sweetheart, even if you had a weird way of showing sometimes.

“Hey! You know that wasn’t on purpose, I felt really bad after! I even let you get me back!” Which was true, but he never aimed for your face. Always a spot on your fluffy coat, never your legs because you hated your pants being wet… and a face shot just felt wrong to him. 

“Yeah, Yeah. I remember that part too,” He smiled to himself. “Those were really good times.. I remember Tensei always bringing us hot chocolate and we’d sit on your porch and draw things in the snow..”

“Oh! And when we’d come back all wet and mom already had spare clothes in her hands because she didn’t want it on the carpet. We’d put on too big clothes just to sit and watch Christmas movies..” You missed those times. But they never really had to stop, you two could have a huge snowball fight after this if you wanted to and the snow stuck. Was he too grown for that? Would it even sound fun to him?

“Do you still watch A Year Without Santa Clause every year?” He asks, breaking your train of thought. You nodded quickly at his question, grinning like a maniac. “Of course I do! And I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas, Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.. And sometimes Spongebob's Christmas Special. Do you still watch old Christmas cartoons?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t wanna ruin tradition.” He answered, pressing his lips together slightly as he stared down at the paper. You can tell he freezes a bit, the sound of his scribbling coming to a stop. He set the pencil down, rubbing the sweat of his hands onto his thighs.

 “You can um.. remOove-..” He quickly cleared his throat, “The rest.” He let out a disappointed sigh at his inability to keep composure. This wouldn't be half the problem it was if it was someone else modeling. But this is you we're talking about. 

“You sure? If you need a minute we can take a break, honey.” You gave him a sympathetic look, still smiling but this time more.. warm. The kind of smile someone gives to another when they genuinely care for them. Or love them for that matter. He adored it, it was the same smile you'd give him when saying he needs to take a break, the same smile you give him when the two of you out to get coffee and catch up. The same smile he's fallen for many, many times. 

But to tell you the truth? It’s driving him crazy. All of this. Was driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, he could stop his wandering mind. You were a goddess. What else was there to do besides take a break and hopefully release some steam in the bathroom or something. Completely inappropriate, but the pain from being hard for so long was starting to cloud the best judgment. 

He looks down at the sketch so far, then back to you as he rubbed his hand upward against his face. It pushed his glasses up, causing them to be crooked when going back down. “I um.. I think I do.. need a minute.” His voice died out as he watched you slide the robe back on, words failing him because couldn’t think completely straight.

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top pic!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[blkkizzat]

please write nerd geto ! i’m sure you’ll write something amazinggg

Of course doll! Sorry this took a while I was sick most of December and January whooped my ass with classes starting again but I love love the idea of Nerd!Geto especially a Nerd!Geto with glasses so had to write a whole fic. Hope you like it :3 ♡

Lessons in Anatomy

“Shall I give you a lesson, Y/N? Do you want me to teach you how to squirt?”

summary: thanks to some bad choices and party girl ways you're on academic probation and can't afford to fail another test. fortunately your longtime friend nerd!geto is there to give you lessons in both economics and anatomy.

cw: college AU. fingering, squirting, dirty talk, edging, mentions of satosugu, rich party kid shit, incestuous friendships, mentions of reader x other jjk men, mentions of casual sex/hookups, mentions of drinking/drug use, reader is a dumb (and I mean dumb) bimbo, a little bit of a brat too, slight coercion, slight dubcon, virgin!suguru, soft dom!sugu, sex ed!sugu, roleplay as sugu is pre med major, some minor fluff, pet names: slut, bunny etc. a bit of a crack fic too haha. slightly black fem coded, no descriptors. a/n: LOL how this became an 8.2k fic about squirting idk chile... but special shout out to @littlemochabunni who talked me off a ledge when I was being emo and I wanted to scrap the entire thing and start over. w/c: 8.2k

“I can’t believe I’m here and missing the biggest party of the year!”

You groaned as you scrolled through your stories to see all the pics and vids of your friends living their best drunken lives and happily binge drinking on frat row to celebrate your school’s football league championship win.

Toru just did unassisted keg stand pushups and you missed it! 

You, on the other hand, were stuck studying with Suguru in his dorm room. 

100% sober and being forced to learn 5 weeks of econ, that you never took a single note for, in one weekend. 

Well not forced exactly. 

You and Satoru had practically begged Suguru to help you study this weekend. If you failed this class you would flunk out as you were already on academic probation.

“Well I for one can’t believe you’re dumb enough to attempt to cheat off Toji and Sukuna of all people.” 

Suguru quipped back while pushing up his glasses. He snatched your phone away from you and placed it on the other side of his desk, away from you.

Not that he took offense to the remark, but he too had better things to do on a Friday night than tutoring you. Keggers definitely weren't his scene though and Suguru wouldn’t be caught dead at a party celebrating with those frat monkeys. Even if said monkeys included his childhood friends. 

However, as a pre-med student he’d much rather stay in to write his essay for the clinical research internship he was trying to get. 

“Hey! I didn’t cheat off them for the record! Toji and Sukuna said they had the hookup for the answers!”

You pouted grumbling as you tried to reach for your phone on the other side of the table only for Suguru to take it again. This time he slid it into his pockets, keeping it away from you for good.

“Urgh, it’s not my fault they got the test for ECON 230A and 230B mixed up. I didn’t even know there was a second section!”

Suguru had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at you again. The pilfered test definitely had ‘ECON 230B’ printed in big bold letters at the top. 

You all were idiots. 

Unfortunately for you, you were just a cheerleader idiot. 

The other idiots, Toji and Sukuna, dubbed the ‘The Boom Bros’, were the reason your team even won the championships in the first place. The best defensive backs your college or any college in your division have seen, ever. Not letting an opposing team score more than 10 points the entire season, there was no way in hell they were going down for that right before the championships.

That left you as the scapegoat, which was something Suguru noted that you happily took the fall for.  Although there is a very good possibility of you being a soon-to-be college dropout, your social clout was skyrocketing. 

Word spread among the popular social circles fast on how you ‘saved the big game’. 

Suguru couldn’t care less about football, though he was getting annoyed at all the texts, DMs and messages you received asking where you were. They were making you completely lose the little focus you were capable of, which is what made him confiscate your phone in the first place. 

Sighing, Suguru was pretty sure you would be competent enough to pass if you just applied yourself more to anything other than drinking and parties.

“Y/N, just try to focus on studying, please.”

You pouted, turning back to the textbook in front of you.

How did Suguru’s nerdy ass enjoy studying so much?

Studying, especially anything to do with math, gives you an ick. In fact, you were sure the only reason you graduated from high school and even got into this university was because you played 7-minutes-in-heaven with Choso at the start of senior year. 

It had been a secret double dare from Gojo but you sucked the soul out of that boy in Gojo’s closet that night. From then on, Choso pretty much did anything you wanted that year, including all your homework. Hell, he even wrote your college admissions essays and in turn you gave him some sloppy toppy here and there.

Choso was always eager to feel your soft lips on his cock, so you’re sure he could have thought of a better way for you to cheat so you didn't have to study at all and could be out partying right now. It’s just your bad luck that he was studying abroad this semester with his little brother Yuuji.

Although, even if you did flunk out you weren’t that worried. Worst case scenario if you couldn’t find a career or a husband you could always be one of Gojo’s three mistresses he said he would keep once he was older, married and had taken over his family’s company. 

He had pinky-pie-promised he would take care of you if you needed it and as one of your best friends you knew he was good for that promise. Even if he did make it while you both were partying, tripping balls off acid so hard that Satoru convinced himself your cunt could produce cotton candy. He chewed on your pussy for 2 hours straight one wild night on your group’s graduation trip where he then asked if you would be his future mistress.

But that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted that life for yourself. You liked your independence and Satoru would be alot to deal with, even with 2 other mistresses and a wife. 

Therefore, unless you wanted to resign yourself to that fate, you were stuck with Suguru as your tutor.

It’s not like you didn’t get along with Suguru, he’d been one of your closest friends since you were young along with Satoru. But as you got older your interests kind of drifted apart and you saw him less and less, especially as you got to college. 

You wanted to party and Suguru prioritized studying.

You had missed him. You wanted to have fun with him again.

And this was definitely not fun. 

Reading the same paragraph for the fifth time and retaining shit all of whatever the passage had said about ‘demand curve fluctuations’, you were ready to climb up the walls. 

You began to fidget, still in your cheer uniform from the game earlier. The material of your skirt rode up to your upper thighs when you splayed your knees out and leaned forward to lay your head on the desk face down with an exasperated yawn. 

Suguru shared in your exasperation but directed his towards you with another sigh, looking you over. His weariness at you from your inability to study causes his eyes to linger on your form longer than they should. 

Resting against his desk, your back had molded into a nice natural little arch as your tits pushed forward . Adjusting his glasses Suguru found it difficult to pull his eyes away once they landed on your thighs. Practically leering, Suguru is transfixed by the way the fabric bunched at your hips digs into your soft skin. 

He curses your university’s school colors as the next thing that caught his eye was the bright yellow cheer panties you wore that were tight enough to show the full shape of your cunt. Your panties are so skinforming that they don’t fail to give you camel toe. The indent of the slit between your fat pussy lips is on full display.

You’ve always been attractive, Suguru muses as he feels his pants slightly tighten. But it’s no mystery why you were such a slut now if these were the positions you found yourself in when alone with guys.

“Seeing something you like, Sugu baby?”

Suguru snaps his head up at your teasing to see you looking straight at him, your head still resting on his desk but has since turned to face him. The wink along with the lazy yet knowing smile forming on your cherry stained lips lets him know you know he was staring at your cunt. 

Caught red handed, Suguru rolls his eyes and scoffs as he returns back to the textbooks in front of him while you laugh. Dismissing your question entirely he changes the subject back to studying but can’t resist throwing in a little dig to take the heat off himself. 

“Y/N, can’t you just focus? You’ve barely made any progress… Or is it that you want to flunk out and be reduced to Toru’s mistress or something?”

Fuck, you forgot Suguru knew about that too. (Duh, of course he did. He was the sober one who found you both, taking care of you once your come downs had hit).

Not letting him get away with that shade, the brat in you clapped back as you returned his sarcasm back at him.

“Okay, well high school was one thing but do you want to go through college without getting any play too? Or are you satisfied just from peeking up a skirt?”

Annoyance flashes in Suguru’s eyes. He thought you had some audacity seeing as you were the one who was casually flaunting your pussy for him in the first place. Nevertheless, you continued, using Suguru as a punching bag for your current academic frustrations.

“Your pocket pussy and getting head from Toru behind the bleachers at prom doesn’t count by the way!”

Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose as his tolerance of the situation had officially bubbled over. He was tired of everyone thinking he was missing out on something just because he didn’t want to kill off brain cells partying every weekend or play STD Roulette with casual hookups. 

You bringing up prom was a low blow. It was the first time he’d ever had a drink and Toru had practically begged him. Satoru wanted to know if his head was just as good for guys as it was for girls (spoiler alert: it was).

Also, what you thought just because you fucked around alot it was actually any good?

“Yeah and getting railed by a bunch of banana brained monkey jocks, that counts Y/N? They wouldn’t know what to do with your clit even if it was an actual football.”

Suguru retorted and he watched as your eyes widened with shock then seethed with anger as you finally sat upright in the seat. 

Ding Ding! He had hit a nerve. 

“Oh and you would know what to do, cherry boy?”

Suguru knows he probably shouldn’t push it further. But like Satoru, you always knew what buttons to push to get under his skin. Suguru can’t help but to want to get under your skin as well, especially since he was never one of the ones getting under your clothes. 

“Well I can actually spell clitoris, so that already puts me at an advantage over those ball chasing monkeys. Have you ever even had a real orgasm before, Y/N?”

You started to speak but Suguru cut you off before you could.

“—and I mean one that didn’t come from tripping with Satoru or a toy? I bet you’ve never even squirted before.”

Damn. 

You resisted the urge to chew on your lip, not wanting him to know just how right he was but your immediate silence was telling. Racking your brain, you tried to find a way to get your lick back but found yourself at a loss. 

It was mostly true to be honest. 

A hot and heavy make-out session at a party would typically lead to mostly underwhelming sex and you would have to return to your dorm or wait for them to leave to finish yourself off with your rose or dildo… or both. 

Okay and sure, maybe the one and only time you did really have an intense body orgasm was the time you dropped acid with Satoru but… fuck –Wait…squirting?! Wasn’t that just pee? Gross! 

Satisfied with your small ammunition, after a pause you bit back again.

“Alright, so frat boys aren’t sex gods, tell me something I don’t know. It’s still sex Suguru—” 

You flipped your hair and crossed your legs arrogantly as you continued.

“— sex that you aren’t having, which, duh, is obvious if you think squirting is an actual thing. Because Eww nasty, I’m so not into piss-play, Sugu!”

You waited for his reply, assuring your win but Suguru just blinked at you, dumbfounded. 

The thought of you having won shatters when Suguru erupts into a fit of laughter. Hitting the table for emphasis Suguru was near howling as the glasses fell off his face and he had to clutch his sides for support, keeling over in his chair. 

Suguru couldn’t actually believe that you believed squirting was the same as urinating! 

On second thought, knowing you, this kind of checked out…

Watching Suguru in a fit of hysterics had your face burning with embarrassment as waves of self-consciousness came over you. 

To be honest, you weren’t even sure why you were feeling insecure as this was supposed to be your victory!  This was not the reaction you expected from him at all to say the least!

Just what made this so funny!? Because you didn’t want to piss yourself during sex?! 

“Sugu…”

“Sugu…”

“Hey, Suguru!!!”

Frustrated with him ignoring you and still laughing after failing to get his attention, you jumped up from your seat and marched directly in front of Suguru. Angrily you yanked his head up by his man bun. 

You were so ready to tell Suguru to go to hell for laughing at you. Even if you weren’t too sure exactly what he was laughing at you for, he was still being a jerk right now. 

However the words caught in your throat as soon as you saw his face.

Suguru’s wide grin easily illuminated the dimly lit dorm room. Tears gathered in the crinkle around his eyes and pulled into an expression of such warmth that you were reminded of all the fun times you had together goofing off over the years. You nearly forgot what it was like to see him laugh like this.

So nostalgic you almost forgot he was still laughing at your expense — almost.

“Don’t be an asshole Sugu…” 

Your voice was low, lacking any real bite as all your fire fizzled and was replaced by a pout.

Defeated, you let go of your stiff grip on his silky bun causing it to unravel and frame his face with thick black strands that flowed down past his shoulders. Although it wasn’t the first time you had seen Suguru with his hair down and no glasses, you couldn’t help but stare at him now. 

He had grown much more into his features since high school. 

College Suguru had sharper eyes, a slimmer face with a strong jawline and hair that flowed down to his chest. Not to mention his lanky boyish frame had filled out. The muscles underneath were prominent now even if he was wearing a baggy band tee and sweats. Suguru didn’t go to parties but from the looks of him he certainly didn’t miss going to the gym. 

He didn’t look much like the nerd you knew him to be right now at all.

Granted, you were still a bit salty with Suguru but didn’t want to fight with him anymore. Especially given the way his dark eyes sparkled as he gazed up at you, your heart nearly skipping a beat as if you were really only noticing him now for the first time. 

Sniffling, a cocktail of emotions swirls in you. Moisture pricks in the corners of your eyes despite yourself.

Suguru, who was also staring at you, took notice right away.

“Hey Bunny, I’m sorry...” 

You relaxed a bit hearing the old nickname he and Satoru gave to you back in middle school, you couldn’t remember the last time he called you that. 

Grabbing your hand in his much larger one, Suguru gave your palm a gentle rub with his thumb. His hand was surprisingly soft. 

Despite his sweet gesture, your brow twitched slightly at Suguru’s soft chuckles, still continuing albeit less frequently, at your expense.

“It’s just that… I dunno, I guess I would have expected you to have experienced it at least once before Y/N, it’s definitely not pee.” 

You huffed. You still weren’t convinced it wasn’t pee but now you were more curious than anything.

“And how do you know that Suguru? You’ve made a girl squirt before?” 

There was no sarcasm in your tone this time, just doubt since he would have told Toru and Toru definitely would have told you if Suguru was getting play from someone. 

Suguru to his credit wasn't discouraged though. 

If anything, he seemed to gain confidence on the matter now that you weren’t fighting him, rather looking to him for knowledge, for the first time tonight.

“Well, no, but I did get a 4.0 out of Anatomy last semester and unlike you I actually paid attention in Sex Ed. Also, just because I’m a virgin, doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless. There is a little thing called the internet, Y/N.”

You mouthed an ‘O’— a bit ashamed that you actually thought because he was a virgin who didn’t party he was merely just sitting around clueless to everything about sex.

But what could just reading textbooks and the internet teach him over actual experience? 

Then again, Suguru was practically a genius, if he was saying something was possible you could be sure it was. Still you couldn’t stop your mind racing as you considered his previous words.

You were the one with all the experience so you should have experienced it before, right? 

Maybe the guys you hooked up with weren’t the problem then? Maybe you were. 

“What if– w-what if I’m the problem Suguru? What if I just can’t?”

Tugging you closer, his fingers now interlacing with yours, Suguru’s other hand settled on your hip giving you a warm squeeze. You were so close to him now that his chin almost rested on your belly and Suguru was craning his head up to you with a small sly grin still on his face.

“It’s not a matter of can or can’t Bunny, you just don’t know how. Shall I give you a lesson, Y/N?” 

“Do you want me to teach you how to squirt?”

You felt a bit lightheaded as you considered the words that just came out of Suguru’s mouth. You weren’t shy at all when it came to matters of sex and you had the reputation to prove it. Yet your stomach still did a little flip at Suguru propositioning you. 

Sure you were a bit of a slut and had at least made out with almost every guy in your group of friends, but not Suguru. Not for lack of attraction though, you had teased Suguru in the past but he had always been the responsible one, like an older brother or protector. 

Besides, Satoru was always so needy for his attention. There weren’t often times you were with Suguru alone and he never seemed all too interested in sex either, at least when directly compared to a horn dog like Satoru. 

You didn’t actually know if he was serious though so you decided to make light of it, giggling.

“If you wanted me to pop your cherry Sugu, all ya had to do was ask.”

Suguru smiled back at you, he shook his head chuckling. 

“I’ll only need to use my fingers, Y/N. Besides, this is about you. What I really want is for you to not flunk out, I would miss you, ya know?” 

You try to keep a poker face but you couldn’t help feeling giddy at the fact you were extremely happy to hear Suguru would miss you. You had already missed him and combined with the inkling of new feelings stirring in your chest from seeing your old friend in a new light you feel adrenaline begin to pump through you as you brim with nervous energy. 

“Let’s think of this as a study break from Economics. You had to miss the party but we can still have some fun. You might even learn something for once, eh?”

His hand left your hip in order to push the books and papers on his desk aside and patted the wooden surface. The hand still intertwined with yours guided you over.

“Hop on up, Bunny. It’s time for your anatomy lesson.”

You look at the desk and pause as if you are unsure, biting your lip. 

Thoughts of finally hooking up with Suguru excited and the fact you were nervous whether you would disappoint him if you couldn’t actually squirt flood your mind at once. However when you meet Suguru’s eyes and feel gentle reassuring pressure on your hand your body is already moving towards the desk, making the decision for you.

Your heart is already thudding in your eardrums by the time you settle on top of Suguru’s study desk. Suguru immediately shifts into instructor mode, picking his glasses up off the floor and adjusting them back on his face. 

He directs you to lean back and relax and soon your shoulders are against the wall behind the desk as you are propped up on your elbows. 

You yelp as Suguru startles you by grabbing your hips with a firm squeeze and scooches you flush to his pelvis. Feet propped up to the edge as well all you needed were the stirrups and you could have been at the gyno's office, giggling now at the thought.

“Sugu, you can’t be serious. I feel like you’re about to give me a pap, not an orgasm.”

Suguru’s mouth twitches up into a smirk.

“There’s a reason they have you lie in this position, makes for easier access. If you’re going to squirt I’m going to need to find that slutty lil’ gland of yours and I don’t mean your clit, Bunny.” 

You huffed but you were otherwise agreeable. 

You couldn’t deny you were a slut especially not now with your legs spread open wide exposing your bright yellow cheer-panty clad cunt to Suguru. Laid out like this, the thin layer of spandex is stretched to its absolute limits causing your chubby pussy lips to poke out of the sides. This does not go unnoticed by Suguru who hadn’t taken his eyes off your lower half since you initially spread your legs. 

His Adam's apple bobbed heavily as he swallowed and breathed deeply at the sight of you.

Suguru can barely believe he’s really about to do this. 

If anything he is overconfident in his abilities, despite his lack of actual on-the-job experience so to speak. From all his studying as a pre-med student, books, health articles and yes even porn, Suguru could say he had an in-depth understanding of human anatomy and bodily functions. 

But that didn’t mean he didn’t need to calm himself enough to stop his balmy palms from sweating further at the reality of finally being allowed to actually touch you.

“I’ll be in your care then, Doctor Geto.”

You make a lighthearted joke with a nervous laugh to ease your own anticipation. However the joke has the opposite effect for Suguru and he snaps his head up as if you had activated something in him. 

Suguru’s fiery expression sends shivers down your back. Although as quickly as it appeared it was gone again, replaced by his trademark comforting grin. Even so your fingers pressed a bit deeper into the wood beneath you, steadying your frazzling nerves.

“Well aren’t you a lucky one then, being my first patient ever. You’ll be a good little pussy and listen to me, won't you?”

Suguru is looking down again, speaking directly to your cunt who is tingling in response to his voice. It’s fucking lewd. But then again so is the studious scrutiny of Suguru’s eyes so single-mindedly transfixed to your cunt you wonder if his leer alone could dissolve the cheer panties right off of you. 

You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding once Suguru finally starts touching you. 

But not your pussy just yet. 

His long thick fingers are surprisingly cool on your skin as they press into your warmth, ghosting just above your knee on both sides. 

Gentle strokes travel down along your inner thighs and up again to lightly tickle the backs of your legs. You tense and squirm beneath him when your eyes meet Suguru’s own.

“Sugu–”

“Patience, Bunny. It’s no wonder you never cum if you’re so used to diving right in. You need to relax first. This won’t happen if you aren’t relaxed, can you try to do that for me?”

You nodded back at him, yet the goosebumps left in the wake of Suguru’s soft caresses had you trembling. So used to rushed thrusts and hurried grasps, you don’t know how to just take it in the moment. 

You had never been touched this delicately before.

Already oversensitive, if anything you felt like the one who was the virgin in this situation.

If Suguru notices, he says nothing. His touches are progressively firmer, the light pets morphing into soft squeezes and circular strokes of the hand once he traverses closer to your core.

“You know Bunny, the inner thigh area is an erogenous zone? Can you say that, Y/N? Ero-gen-ous?

Suguru pronounces the word out for you as his heavy muscular hands make their way to the crease of your inner thighs, his hands once more perilously close to your pussy as he pauses looking up at you again expectantly.

“Say it, Y/N.”

Your cunt clenches at his command and it leaves you stuttering. Heat blossoms across your cheeks from how needy you sound choking out the word. 

“Er-Ero-gennn-ous.”

Suguru rewards you by moving his hands again but to your dismay they pass your core to dig into your hips, his thumbs swirling over your hip bones. He leans his body in closer to you and you break eye contact to turn your head away lest you really start falling apart in his hands.

“Good girl. Ya know, you’re quite bright with the right motivation, Bunny.”

Puffs of moist heat glide over the tip of your ear as his lips are only millimeters away from your skin. His words stimulate a deep in your gut reaching all the way down to your toes, trying to resist how much he’s affecting you. 

Suguru chuckles at your bashfulness.

“Are you always this shy, Bunny? Or does that honor just belong to me?”

You whimpered. You aren’t sure how you got here. 

How was Suguru, a nerdy virgin, making you come undone like this? You didn’t know where the darkness that crept up on the edges of his eyes was coming from either, yet you squirm in anticipation despite yourself. 

You loved it. 

Always a know-it-all, so you would hate to admit it outloud, but Suguru was already making you feel more excitement than any frat boy you had been with. Lack of hands-on experience be damned. You’re losing it as his lips sensually flutter against your collarbone. 

“Y-you s-said only fingers, S-Sugu!”

Your voice lacks any real reprimand as you are arching up into his touches and quivering for more. Suguru obliges as he alternates between delicate nips and open mouth kisses sinfully marking you. Groaning into the crook of your neck Suguru savors the lingering taste of your perfume and the natural saltiness of your skin. 

Returning his attention back to your ear Suguru’s breath trails over your skin until your lobe is once again trapped between his moist lips. He lightly tugs it between his teeth before giving it a sharp bite.

“AHH!”

The sting sends a jolt of electricity shooting straight into your cunt and a strangled noise escapes your lips. Your knees are starting to buckle but Suguru’s quick reflexes stopped your legs from clamping together all the way, bracing you. 

Taking your hands and leading them to the backs of your thighs, Suguru is making you steady yourself back into a spread position for him and gives you strict instructions not to move.

“Good girl… This should be more than obvious now Bunny, but there are erogenous zones all over your body that connect to the pleasure nerve endings here.”

Suguru’s voice is silky as his index finger tows long strokes over the slit of your clothed cunt and applies pressure on your clit for emphasis. Whines fumble out of you when Suguru switches from steady swipes to idle flicks with pads of his fingers and your legs twitch again once more.

“It's important to simulate multiple areas simultaneously and I only have two hands, don’t I? You don’t mind Y/N do you?”

You still can’t bear to look Suguru in the eyes, much less respond vocally so you just shake your head. 

“Feeling good, Bunny? Which do you like better, the strokes or the flicks?”

Your eyes squeeze shut from Suguru demonstrating both over your covered cunt. You try not to tear up but the amount of autonomy you had in this situation was new to you. Embarrassed and vulnerable you’re realizing that in spite of all your sexual experiences you still don’t feel comfortable expressing your needs.

“Hey, Y/N–”

Suguru clutches your face in his massive grip, squishing both your cheeks with a single hand and forcing your glassy eyes back on him. It was hard to focus on what he was saying anyway while you cooed from the feather-like circles he had been drawing on your clit.

“–you have to talk to me. This and sex in general, is just another form of communication. It won't work well and you definitely won’t squirt unless you can express to your partner what feels good and what doesn’t.”  

You are sure he can feel the heat gathering in your cheeks radiating off your skin.

“Stop t-teasing S-Sugu… I-I know you can tell it’s good.”

Suguru eases his hold on you, his smirk deepening at your complaint.

“Oh I can, tell Bunny. Believe me. Your pussy, she’s so sensitive no matter how much you try to hide it from me. But I still need to hear it from your mouth regardless.”

The hand playing with your cunt splays out and Suguru fully cups you in his hands. The pulsing of your clit vibrates against his palm even through your panties.

“If you’re going to be a slut Bunny, at least be a vocal one. Be a slut for your own pleasure...this fat n’pretty cunt of yours deserves it.” 

Suguru’s mouth is mere millimeters above yours, floating suspended both your lips are parted as you’re sharing the same air. The dizzying effect of breathing him in only intensifies with his words.

“Or perhaps you just get off on the idea of being free use?”

Suguru chuckles but doesn’t make you answer that question in favor of pulling back from you to inspect the large wet spot you soaked through your cheer panties from all of his taunting.

Pleased he gives your clothed pussy a smack, the moisture underneath the flimsy fabric evident in the soft squelchy sound that fills the room.

Smack, another moist sound echoes from your cunt.

“Oh, looks like she’s ready. This mouth down here is so much more talkative, Bunny.”

Hooking his fingers in the fabric Suguru peels your soaked cheer panties to the side, whistling at the thick strings of your essence that lingered between your cunt and your panties.

“So fucking wet, the prettiest most obedient lil’ pussy, aren’t you?”

A fleeting thought of sassing Suguru since yours is the first real pussy he has actually even seen up close dissipates as soon as your entrance flutters against his two thick fingers that rub over your uncovered opening. 

Involuntary bucking your hips, the burning urge to feel him inside you is all you care about now, pride be damned. 

You want him.

“Sugu–”

“–Shhh!”

Suguru cuts your pleas short.

“Don’t interrupt Doctor Geto when he’s speaking with his favorite patient, Bunny… Your nasty lil’ cunt is really begging for her treatment, isn’t she?”

You pout at him, quieting down while Suguru rewards your submission by slipping into your folds once more, entering fully past your entrance and into your gummy walls. It’s only a single digit inside you but your pussy is hungrily sucking him in deeper, trying to devour his middle finger whole. 

Suguru murmurs intelligible obscenities from how warm and tight you are. He needs to find that spot. 

Your hands struggle to keep your legs from quaking when you feel his finger, longer, thicker and far more pointed than your own, bottom out before languidly dragging delicious pressure back through you, exploring your walls in search of–

“Found her.”

Your ass jerks up and nearly off the desk entirely when his finger roughly prods into the firm spongy spot within your cunt you didn’t even know existed until now. 

“FAH-FAH-FUHHCKKKKKKKKK–”

Your voice cracks and your vision blurs with tears that finally are cascading down your face smudging your mascara. Your reaction has you missing the wide-eyed look of amazement Suguru gives you utterly entranced by the way your entire body quivered from just a solid tap to the gland. 

Suguru had expected an intense reaction. He’d seen and read about how temporary control of muscles and spasms were common when abusing this spot in women. But the one thing textbooks, articles, nor porn could prepare him for was how fucking sexy you’d be while he was doing it. 

The ache in his pants has him groaning as he has to lean nearly his entire weight into you in order to get your lower half to settle back down on the desk. Pausing his movements inside of you, Suguru allows you to catch your breath.

Still the heavy pad of his finger is weighing down on you with enough force you still need to suck in your breaths, barely able to squeak out words.

“W-Wh-What is th-that S-Suguuu?!”

Suguru tells you not to worry about the actual name. It’s not very sexy, so you won’t remember it and it’s important that you do, so eventually he tells you to just call it the g-spot. 

You groan at the loss of pressure on your g-spot when Suguru removes himself from you entirely in order to bring the finger that had been inside you to his lips. Watching him savoring the essence of your sweet cunt on his tongue, you couldn’t take any longer, finding your voice. 

“Su-Surugu, N-Need–N-need more. P—please!”

Suguru obliges, slapping the fat of your ass teetering off the desk and lifts you as his knee slides under your hip. Leaning into you further, Suguru throws one of your shapely legs over his shoulder. 

“Oh, you found your voice Bunny? Then tell me what my patient wants. Where does Doctor Geto need to touch you?”

“M-my pussy– fuck– p-please Sugu, wanna feel good there. She’ll be so good for you!”

Suguru’s pleased smile is your only warning before two of his large fingers plunge-in and bottom out inside your cunt, knocking against your cervix. Your jaw completely slacks as you groan at the sudden intrusion, allowing Suguru the perfect invitation to your mouth. 

Wasting no time, Suguru crashes his lips into yours. The kiss is sloppy, hot and needy as any cries that attempted to leave you were drowned out in the wet cavern of Suguru’s mouth. 

Fuck, you’re greedy as hell. 

The kiss makes Suguru’s head spin and he loses himself in your sinful hunger as you wrap your arms around his neck and begin to dominate the kiss, sucking on his tongue. Soon Suguru finds himself groaning against your lips and slowly rocking his cock into the back of your thigh. Fuck, your body was too responsive, too eager for him to slut you out on his fingers. 

Suguru couldn’t lose sight of the goal though, you needed to squirt so he needed to take back control.

Catching you off guard, he bullies a third finger– his ring finger, into your cunt as well. Breathless you break the kiss, your eyes sinking back into your head as you meet the thrusts of his fingers with the roll of your hips.  

You aren’t able to control the way your body convulses as you writhe against Suguru. His massive body weighed over you as his hair fell in front of his face, hiding his crazed expression from you. 

Suguru is also panting as he vigorously pumps the appendages into you. In and out, swirling them Suguru’s fingers take special care to zigzag sweet torment over your g-spot. 

You’ve only felt the slight ghostings of this feeling before, nothing so pointed and focused on attacking this spot, while stretching your pussy so well in the process. You want– no need, to feel Suguru’s cock inside you next. 

You could tell he must be huge. Heat was radiating off his girthy bulge as it twitched up against your ass cheek even through Suguru’s joggers. The thought causes the hot iron coil in your stomach to tense to its breaking point, begging for release.

Suguru notices.

“A-Are you gonna squirt for me, Y/N?”

For the first time his own voice is ragged, set on keeping his promise to you.

“S-Sugu, I-I– I want to but I–” 

Your words catch in your throat as tears that are salty to the taste freely flow past your lips down your chin. You are unsure of what exactly to beg Suguru for even if you could do more than unintelligible babbles at the moment. 

It’s coming– you panic— this feeling!

“W-w-ait! Nooo, S–Su–Sugu… I’m g-gonna pee. S-stop, p-puhleaseee!

Your hands slip against Suguru’s shoulders as you try in vain to push him away. So fearful that Suguru was wrong and you may actually piss all over him and his desk. 

Suguru isn’t having it though, backhanding your clit with a harsh smack, his knuckle bullying into your bud. 

The slap was followed by two more in quick succession, his other hand never slowing inside of you. Disregarding your pleas Suguru ventures even deeper into your guts while pressing down on your lower belly.

“I told you it’s not pee, Bunny. You don’t listen very well, do you?”

Suguru hiss at you, the stress of holding himself back as you fall apart on his fingers was nearly too much, he needed you to lay back, be good for him and take it.

“I-I’m s-sowy, Dr. Geto but– I– wanna–.”

You sniffle back more tears, which has Suguru calming himself in order to soothe you again.

“Shh Bunny, it’s okay– now ask your doctor nicely for what you need. Go on.” 

At this point cuming, squirting, whatever Suguru you requires of you in order to release the feral sensations building within you is an essential need to live as much as taking your next breath.

“Doctor Geto, please let me cum! Sugu please! G-gonna s-squirt, gonna squirt s-so g-good for you!!”

“That’s right baby you will… Now squirt on me Bunny, make a pretty mess all over my fucking fingers.”

Timing a particularly hard jolt to your g-spot with simultaneous pressure from over your belly, has you tipping over the edge. Back arching you feel the gratifying release as you squirt hard, fluids spurting all over Suguru’s fingers and spilling down his forearms. The saccharine pleasure of it all is buzzing throughout every cell in your body as your eyes flutter back into your skull. 

Your entire body feels like an extension of your pussy, pulsing in tune with your cunt and you don’t realize you are even screaming until Suguru’s mouth is on top of yours once again. 

Suguru is tongue fucking your wails all the way back into the depths of your throat until they are mere raspy gurgles.

Riding out your orgasm you protest with choked cries as Suguru's hand abruptly leaves your cunt. Yet before you can process what’s happening you’re mewling loudly again once you feel his lips attacking your cunt. Sucking your clit between his lips, his own groans vibrate into your core making you all the more sensitive. 

Your hands fly to him again, tangling up in his long raven locks and trying to push his head away. 

Too much! You were far too sensitive right now for him to be lapping at your over stimmed cunt like a mad man.

“Stawwp–”

Your slurs fall on deaf ears as Suguru continues, only pulling back briefly to shush you.

“Haven’t got it all out. This pretty pussy is so fucking nasty she can give a little more, can’t you baby? I know she can.”

Suguru is speaking to you but he sounds a million miles away, focused only on your cunt as he returns to suckling on your clit, his teeth scraping lightly. He knows your pussy will give him the answer he is looking for soon enough. 

The iron grip his arms have around your thighs holds you down allowing Suguru unimpeded access to dribble globs of his spit into your folds. His tongue flattens over your clit and his eyes smolder into yours before diving back into your pussy. 

So close to cumming yet again your thick thighs clench around him as you unintentionally smother his face deeper into your core. Suguru ignores any need to take breaths, your cunt being the only sustenance needed as he rams his tongue further into your convulsing hole. 

Shaking his head around sloppily, Suguru is goading your cunt into giving him more and more. His tongue is a mere worshiper in the temple between your thighs, begging your leaking pussy to give him the last morsels of your squirt. 

Not having the willpower to deny him, your pussy gushes out more onto his tongue and shamelessly he swallows all of it as you cum all over again.

By the time Suguru detaches himself from your cunt he looks almost as wrecked as you: hair is matting to the sides of his face, his glasses are clouded with slick and your juices are dripping down his chin. 

Although, now that Suguru has had a taste of you he is left craving more. Not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste Suguru is ferally slurping the drippings off your thighs and lowering his head to even zamboni the overflow of your essence off the desk beneath you. Ravenous with thirst for you Suguru is even using his mouth to squeeze out any droplets he could retrieve from your soaked cheer panties. 

You on the other hand could only heave as you gasped for breath. Your legs are still twitching in the after shock of your intense orgasm and squirt session. Dizzy and dazed you feel yourself fading out, unsure of how much time has passed or what Suguru was still doing between your legs until the familiar ring of your phone slowly guides you back into the present. 

Wiping his face with the back of his hand Suguru stands up and pulls your phone out of his pocket.

The phone is still ringing as he looks down at it and snickers. 

“It’s Toru, Y/N. Answer it.”

You give Suguru a frowny pout. You were barely conscious right now, you couldn't handle a drunkenly energetic Satoru. 

Seeing you making no attempts to move, Suguru answers it for you and Satoru’s voice overflows through the speakerphone.

“Y/N! Y/N! Where are ya at!? We need the beer pong queen to make her appearance, I need a partner! Nanamin is too good to beat without you!”

Suguru held the phone out to you but you could respond in labored puffs.

“Y/N is taking a study break, a bit tired after her lesson.”

“–Oh it's you Suguru!”

You end up tuning Satoru out as he’s begging Suguru to come to the party with you which you already knew wasn’t going to happen even if he didn’t just make you squirt all over him. 

Willing yourself to sit up, your body is  immediately revitalized when your eye is drawn to how bricked Suguru currently is in his dark gray sweats. 

Suguru arches his brow in amusement as you pull him forward by the band of his joggers. You hurriedly fumble to untie them, pushing them and his boxers down to reveal his hard cock. 

The sight of it nearly has you squeeing.

You practically have hearts in your eyes as you gawk at Suguru’s cock, it’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen. The way his girth swayed in front of you as pre marbles on the tip has you openly salivating. To say his length and thickness is above average, was a massive understatement. 

You can’t estimate a size but you know he is huge as you eye the a large vein on the underside of his cock that seemed to weigh him down even though fully erect. You squirmed at the thought of that vein scraping inside your pussy as Suguru pounded you.

You need to feel it. Now.

Nevertheless, it isn’t until Suguru snaps his fingers in front of your face did you realize Gojo was now addressing you again through the phone.

“Y/N! You there?! I failed with Sugu! He’s lame! But you’ll be here soon right???”

A sharp contrast to just 30 mins earlier but partying was the last thing on your mind now. You needed to get Satoru off the phone and Suguru’s cock inside you expeditiously. 

“Mhm-nh, Toru sorry, I–I really need to get a good grade. I need Sugu to tutor me a bit more. C-Can’t afford to flunk out!”

Although you had teased Suguru earlier about popping his cherry, you didn’t care if he was a virgin now. He had more than proved himself despite his lack of hands-on sexual experience. 

You weren’t really paying attention to Satoru any longer as Suguru motions for you to lay back again. Readily, you get in position returning your legs to a stirrup pose. 

Suguru rewards your obedience with his cock slapping against your clit.

“Mmmm…FUHH-CK-AH!”

You don’t care that Satoru is still on the line as Suguru is slipping his cock under your cheer panties, rubbing his fat tip along your folds. His cock sandwiched between your messy cunt and the soaked fabric has Suguru groaning at the crazy sensation, he could bust like this for sure.

“Huh? Oh.. OHHHHHH! Haha, I see, I see! Suguru’s lessons are the best, aren’t they Y/N?”

You’re openly moaning now. Barely registering Toru’s words as Suguru grunts, increasing the pace he’s bullying his cockhead across your clit.

“Y-yeah, the besssst-ahhh!” 

Satoru, feeling more than a bit left out, starts pouting over the phone.

“Hey, no fair playing with Bunny without me Sugu! Let me join ne–” 

Suguru abruptly cuts Satoru’s complaints short, hanging up on him while still rutting his tip over your pussy. His pre leaking out in globs and mixing with your own cum still dripping from you.

He wanted you all to himself, for now at least.

Satoru could fuck off.

“Gawwd Sugu–just fuck m–”

You abruptly stop as your face falls in realization when you feel his warm cum pour over your mound and into your cheer panties. 

Suguru is spilling so much of his thick load into you it's even coming out the sides of your cheer panties and running down into the crack of your ass. A few more jerks of his cock through your folds and he is quickly pulling back to tuck his softening length back into his sweats.

“N-no,no no no S-Sugu! Suguru! I-t’s okay you came fast but please— fuck me. I’ll even let you raw me and cum inside puhleaseeee Sugu– need to squirt again all over your cock!”

You don’t know the kind of willpower it takes Suguru to refuse you. 

Probably one of the hardest things he’s done in his life, especially as fresh tears trickle from your eyes and he knows you’d be crying just as adorably on his cock. You were too sexy, too perfect and he wanted to fuck you just as badly as he knew you wanted him to.

BUT– more importantly he wanted to enjoy you more than for a quick fuck and if he indulged you now, he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t be relentlessly tearing up your sweet slutty pussy all night. 

If you didn’t start studying for real you were definitely going to get kicked out of school and he can’t have that, especially not now after this. 

Masking his own lust with a stern instructor voice Suguru chastises you as he ties his hair back onto a bun and begins to give his glasses a proper cleaning before adjusting the books and papers on his desks around you back into their correct piles.

“Absolutely out of the question. Now be a good girl and pull up your panties, Y/N. We have a lot of ground to cover tonight.”

Sticky with Suguru’s cum, frustrated and still horny you groaned loudly but obeyed. You knew Suguru meant business. 

You hoped if you listened to him well enough you’d get what you wanted by the end of the night. It would suck for you to suffer through studying but it was the best motivation you had in literal years. 

Unfortunately for you, Suguru, focused on the bigger picture, had a larger goal in mind.

“Only smart sluts get dick, Bunny. You’d better get an A on that exam Monday if you really want this cock.”

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2024. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ.

a/n: I would be willing to write a part 2 (some time in the future) of y/n popping Sugu cherry or even y/n getting double teamed by 'The Boom Bros' as a 'thank you' for taking the fall for them if there was interest. I'm kind of fond of this little college AU.

Reblog for an anatomy lesson from Nerd!Geto but likes and comments are also appreciated as always!

NEXT is back to my own ficcys! Upcoming: The Nursery - Yakuza!Toji x Y/N - teaser/taglist: ╰┈➤here. Delays cause I've been without my adhd meds and getting the first part of the fic beta'd for once but I FINALLY got them today and was able to finish this fic so hopefully I can get back on track! send me good vibes y'all!

[luvdsc]

barbie girl.

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

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

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

i. hiya, barbie! hi, ken!

Na Jaemin does not know that you exist.

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

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

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

“Y/N!”

You stand corrected.

Na Jaemin does know that you exist.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What have you gotten yourself into?

ii. you want to go for a ride?

“I’m getting sus vibes from him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“… Yeah.”

iii. sure, ken. jump in!

“Hey, Y/N!” 

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

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

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

“Maybe the first five minutes of it only.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys just get free clothes?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, I’ll be a model student, doll.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dare you say it? You look pretty.

You’ve never looked this pretty before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

v. life is plastic, it’s fantastic!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—I mean, I don’t really—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that a guarantee?”

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

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

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

vi. you can brush my hair.

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

“Amazing.”

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

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

“Yes fucking way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy crap, this is so fucking good.”

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

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

“Definitely worth it.”

vii. undress me everywhere.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ 11:46 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: 🤐

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ 11:50 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: um

[ 11:50 a.m. ] choi YJ 🦊: 🤐

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

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

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

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

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

[ 11:51 a.m. ] jenaur 🤺: 🤐🤐🤐

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

“Hey, doll, what’s so funny?” 

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

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

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

“Yep. How was the midterm for you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaemin was right.

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

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

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your cheeks grow warm. “You noticed?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ll tell him later.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re done.”

You decide to bite the bullet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why is he so afraid of loving you?

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get out.”

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

“Y/N, I—”

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

“No! No, Y/N, you’re not, I jus—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shut the door in his face.

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

You love him.

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

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

Because you love him.

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

But you love him.

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

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

God, you love him.

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

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

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

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

You love him.

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

You wish you never met Na Jaemin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are loved.

xi. that’s so not fetch!

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

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

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

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

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

“Jaemin? What are you doing here?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaemin is silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” he says softly.

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

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

“Then why?”

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

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

He knows.

xii. you can’t sit with us.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m an idiot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EPILOGUE.

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

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

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

“I met someone.”

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

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

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

“I made her blueberry pancakes.”

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

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

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

“Does it ever stop hurting?”

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

“Eventually.”

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

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

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

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

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

Your first love teaches you what love isn’t.

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

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

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

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

“So did I.”

[forwhomthewordsflow]

Stars In My Eyes

(a part two to this fic!)

modern music teacher!eddie munson x art teacher fem!reader

18+ ONLY MDNI!!!

warnings: fluff, so fluffy, first dates, first kisses, some anxiety/stress, a little dash of coach!steve harrington, suggestiveness

author's note: i feel like this took me ages to write! so sorry for the wait...i do sort of love how this turned out :) writing a first kiss scene is hard!!!

please let me know what your thoughts are on this series!

word count: 7.7k

Eddie Munson couldn’t believe his luck.

Like, sure he’s gotten lucky a few times before.  There was that one time an officer let him off with a warning after he rolled through a stop sign, he’d played the “I’m a teacher during finals week” card and it had seemed to work out pretty well for him.  There were also a few times when a stranger in front of him at the Starbucks drive thru had paid for his morning coffee, only for him to turn around and see there was no one behind him to pay it forward to.  

And then, there was that time back during his final senior year where Stacy Cowell was going through a “rebel phase” and decided to give Eddie a string of random blowjobs over the course of a week and a half to make herself feel like she was living on “the wild side.”  She quickly transitioned out of that phase when Eddie had asked her out on a date, he figured they should probably make an effort to learn a little about each other if she was going to be deepthroating him in the back of his van every other day after school.  She turned him down with a disgusted sneer, leaving Eddie a little heartbroken by the fact that a girl could be so offended at the idea of a date with him.  

But none of that even mattered to Eddie anymore.  All of those situations touched by a bit of luck have been reduced down to mere coincidences now that he has you in his life.  Even though it was only one IKEA date trip that the two of you went on last weekend, Eddie couldn’t stop himself from imagining a long, happy future with you because of how fucking perfect it all went.

- 

You don’t think you’ve ever been so nervously giddy over anything in your entire life.  There had never really been any boys that you were crazy for when you were younger.  Sure, you’d been in love a couple times before, but nothing was ever…”wow.” 

 You’d never felt any real sparks, never met anyone truly special enough to change your life like all of the women you’d seen in movies or read about in books.  

But Eddie…he was very much wow.

After you’d worked out the details for your IKEA trip that afternoon in your classroom, you found it hard to stop blushing for the remainder of the week.  The both of you decided that you’d go on Saturday morning, and Eddie had insisted on picking you up and driving there together.  He bowed his head and lightly pressed his lips to your hand in a dramatic and silly fashion before leaving your classroom.  Your knees felt weak and a bright red blush bloomed on your face as Eddie stood back up to his full height to face you. 

“You know,” he started, still holding your hand, "you're really cute when you blush like that.”

A tiny squeak is all that comes out of your mouth when you open it to respond.  

You struggle to put together a coherent sentence and settle for the smile and girlish giggle that bubbled its way out of your chest.  

“I’ll see you later.”

Eddie started to walk backwards, keeping your hand in his grasp until he was too far away and then turning around to exit your classroom.  There wasn’t much else you could do except stare at the hand that had just been held by him, while holding your other over your mouth in shock.  

Eddie waited the appropriate five seconds after being out of your line of sight before erupting into a silent “fist-punching-head-banging-fuck yeah!” celebration in the hallway.  He couldn’t believe he kissed your hand.  The thought to kiss your hand had barely graced his mind before his body had made the decision to go through with it.  Eddie was terrified that his nerdy qualities would cause you to run for the hills, or that you’d think he was weird or stupid.

But instead, you’d blushed bright red and blessed his ears with a giggle, and all of Eddie’s worries and fears were banished from his mind at the sound of it.  

Eddie decided he was going to really enjoy taking every opportunity to make you blush.  

-

There were only two days until your IKEA trip with Eddie, and somehow you kept missing each other in the hallways at school.  On the rare occasion that Eddie had a spare moment, you were at some kind of art teacher workshop.  Whenever you could pull yourself away from decorating your classroom and lesson-planning, Eddie was leaving early for the day to go look at different types of Tubano drums for his classroom.  

There were a couple of staff meetings that everyone had to attend, but the two of you never ended up sitting next to each other.  Instead, you would indulge in a game of eye tag, making yourself feel like you were in high school all over again with a big fat crush.  

While you were really looking forward to your day out with Eddie, a tiny part of you was glad that you weren’t running into him constantly.  You found yourself overpouring your coffee in the morning because of the way the deep brown shade of the coffee matched the color of Eddie’s eyes.  You accidentally took a sip out of your paint water cup instead of your drinking cup because you were staring off at the lamps in your room, wondering which one had been Eddie’s favorite.  Two days was just what you needed to collect yourself enough to act like a normal human being before you saw Eddie again.  You weren’t even allowing yourself the time to think about being in a car with him for the hour that it took to get to IKEA.  All of the workshops, lesson plans and other preparation for the start of school kept you calm and collected.

Eddie, on the other hand, was reduced to a pile of chunky silver rings and nerves.  He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he had to get done before your trip…date?  Was it a date?  Did you say the word date when you asked him?  Is it even a date when the girl asks the guy-

Eddie’s frantic pacing is interrupted by a shark knock on his propped open classroom door.

“Yo, Munson.  How’s the…” Steve trailed off as he took in Eddie’s disheveled state.  “Dude.”

“I know, I know, man.” Eddie responds, plopping down in a chair that was meant for one of his students.  He puts his head in his hands, tugging on the roots to try and get a grip.

“What’s goin’ on, Ed?  I haven’t seen you this distraught since One Direction broke up.”  Steve sits on top of a desk next to Eddie, jabbing him softly in the shoulder after his lame attempt at getting a smile out of Eddie.  

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head at the stupid joke.  He looks up at Steve with a deep sigh, then stands up and grabs him by the shoulders.

“If I tell you, it stays between us.”  Eddie fixes Steve with a hard look and raised eyebrows, not any different from the look he gives his students when they’re getting up to no good.  “I’m so dead serious.”

Steve’s eyes widen at the sudden seriousness, making a cross over his chest with his finger.  “Yeah man, cross my heart and all that.”

Eddie lets go of Steve, slumping back into the chair with a huff.  

“How do you know that a date is a date, and not just a friend thing?”

Steve smiles cockily and leans forward, always interested in Eddie’s love life…or lack thereof.

“Well, I don’t know…I think I might have to hear a little more about this special lady in order for me to provide some of my good ol’ Harrington Love Advice.”  Steve wiggles his eyebrows at Eddie, throwing in a wink for the sake of being annoying.

Eddie rolls his eyes, he knew it was a mistake to bring up girls around this guy.  Steve was always giving Eddie pointers on how to get chicks the way he did, but Eddie was in no way similar to Steve when it came to relationships.  Steve never had nothing to do on the weekends, always with a new girl, sometimes even the single moms at school.  He’d meet them out at a bar, woo them, take them to dinner and then even sometimes back to his place.  Despite his fuck-boy tendencies, Eddie knows it’s never that meaningful for either party.  Steve’s been pining after one of the English teachers for years, and these flings are only serving as a way to satiate his intensely flirtatious side.  

As annoying as he may be, it would be nice to rant about all of his pent up loverboy feelings for you to Steve.  Eddie knows he’s just giving him a hard time, it’s one of the many love languages they share as best friends.

“I-it’s just…she’s so beautiful man, like…holy fuck.”  Eddie shakes his head in disbelief, looking off into the distance as he rambles on about you.  “I mean just…she looks like some kind of Elven princess-angel-goddess-fairy–”

“Dude, Ed.  None of that nerd shit please, say it to me in English.”

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head with a sigh.  

“Okay.  I really like her.  I haven’t felt this way in years, maybe ever.  We met officially yesterday and just…clicked.”

Steve smiles at Eddie as he talks about you, happy to see his friend so excited about someone.

“We made plans to go to IKEA this weekend, but I don’t know what to make of it?  Is it a date?  Should I bring her flowers?  What if I do bring her flowers and she gets weirded out because it was actually never a date at all?”

Steve holds his hands up like he’s trying to calm down an animal.  

“Woah there, buddy.  No need to get all freaked out about it.”  Steve can’t help but to laugh a little at the helpless look on his friend’s face.  “Let’s just start with the details, okay?  Who asked who?”

“She asked me.  I said I liked her lamps and then she said she got them at IKEA and then I said that I needed some for my room and then she said that we should go to IKEAandshopforsometogether-”

“Okay, okay man.  Take a deep breath.”  Steve motions for Eddie to inhale for a couple seconds.  

“Then let it all out.”  Eddie expels the breath from his lips in a hard huff, looking a little calmer.  “Alright.  So, she asked you?”

Eddie nods.

“That’s good, it means she’s interested!  Not a lot of women are making the first move these days, it means that she definitely wants a slice of Munson.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve, but still waits for him to go on.

“Are you picking her up for the trip to IKEA?”

“Yeah, I offered to pick her up and drive us both there since it’s about an hour away.”

Steve scratches his five o’clock stubble.

“Hmm…okay.  Did she like…jump at the chance for you to drive her or was there some hesitation before she agreed?”

Eddie thinks back to that moment.  How the two of you were standing slightly too close for new friends, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle as you looked up at him, how he was surprised you couldn’t hear his heart beating out of his chest.  

He remembers offering to drive the both of you to the store, surprising himself by saying it way calmer than he was feeling.  Your face lit up a little, like you were shocked that he’d even offer to pick you up and drive you there.  You smiled and nodded your head sweetly before agreeing out loud.

Eddie feels himself smiling at the tiny memory.

“It wasn’t like she immediately answered…but she definitely was smiling when she agreed.  She didn’t seem nervous about it or anything, it was more like she was excited or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up as a smirk emerges on his face.

“So let me see if I’m getting this straight.  She asked you to go to IKEA, probably knowing it was a long drive, and then she happily agreed to let you pick her up and drive the two of you there?  For a whole two hours there and back?”

Eddie nods, anxiously awaiting Steve’s opinion on all of this.

“I mean, it’ll probably be a good four or five hours that you spend together driving and shopping.”

Steve fixes Eddie with a look that says ‘c’mon man, it’s obvious.’

Eddie’s had enough of his edging.  “Will you just get to the fucking point please for the love of god?”

Steve sighs and claps a hand on Eddie's shoulder. 

“Ed, it’s a date.”

Eddie barks out a triumphant laugh and Steve does the same.  The two men high five and Steve wraps a beefy arm around Eddie’s shoulder to pat him on the chest.  Eddie can’t help but to let out a big sigh of relief now that he can stop worrying about how to act on this trip date.

-

On Friday, you could’ve sworn you went slightly neurotic.  

Since Tuesday you’d been considering your day with Eddie as a date, but it suddenly hit you that maybe he didn’t feel the same way.  What if you’d been doing all this worrying and freaking out for no reason?  What if he ends up calling you ‘dude’ the entire day?  What if he has a girlfriend already, and he just agreed to take you to IKEA so that you wouldn’t get your feelings hurt?

You’d been running circles in your head trying to prepare yourself for any and all possible outcomes that Saturday could hold for you, but none of it seemed to be doing you any good.

So, you did what you always did whenever you found yourself flipping out over something new.

You made a to-do list. 

Pick out an outfit.  Dress! too fancy…jeans?  Dress, definitely dress. not too fancy though…

Drink wine 

Watch movie

Clean house…again

Drink more wine

Possibly reconsider outfit…

After all was said and done, you plopped down on your worn-in couch, sufficiently drunk with a clean house and an outfit neatly hung up outside of your closet.  You decide to pour your third and final glass of wine for the evening, and to surrender your anxiety to the gods of love.  You hope and pray that they like you enough to let you have this one. 

-

It was finally Saturday.  Eddie stands in front of his closet furiously, wondering why in the fuck he can’t find a single thing to wear for his date with you today.  He’s got enough clothes to fill his entire closet, dresser, and a $20 clothing rack he picked up at Target years ago.  Steve said to just go with what felt the most like ‘Eddie’, but he’s suddenly unable to remember what his style even looks like.  

He wants to punch himself in the nuts for not taking the time last night to plan this all out like a normal person.  

He ends up settling for a fitted white tee, a pair of trusty black jeans, and black boots.  On a FaceTime call with Steve (so he could approve Eddie’s choice), Steve mentioned that the outfit was casual, but still fairly nice, and that the white shirt showed off his tattoos and muscles.

“Chicks dig the muscles and white tee combo, man.  Trust.”

Eddie chuckles at his friend’s ‘frat boy’ lingo, but the comment makes him feel better about his appearance anyways.  Last year, Steve had managed to convince Eddie to start going to the gym with him after school during the week, and it pains him to admit that he sort of really likes it now.  He likes how much stronger he feels, he likes sweating out all of his frustrations, and most of all he likes the way he fills out his t-shirts now.

After hanging up the call with Steve, Eddie flexes a little in his mirror before leaving to go pick you up.  He decides to do a few last minute push ups and to moisturize the tattoos on his arms so that he looks extra good for you.

-

Perhaps being slightly neurotic about this date was a good idea.

Thanks to all of your meticulous planning, you managed to get completely ready with a half hour to spare.  You decided against sitting on your couch until Eddie arrived since the nervous butterflies in your stomach made you want to throw up, so you opted to wander around your house for the remainder of the time.

You pass by your mirror, doing a final check and making sure your outfit and makeup are up to par.  You’d decided on a simple white dress, with a denim button up thrown over it and your pair of black chelsea boots that had yet to let you down.  You smile at your reflection, happy that you’d managed to choose a comfy and cute outfit that felt like you.

There’d been too many dates before this one where you’d gone out and spent insane amounts of money on brand new outfits that you weren’t even sure you really liked, all in the name of impressing your date and hoping he likes you enough to ask you out on a second one.  When prepping for those dates, you spent hours upon hours running around like a mad woman.  Shaving, plucking, tweezing, waxing.  Making sure your hair curled just right and that your eyeliner was sexy, but not slutty.

You couldn’t figure out why Eddie felt so different to you.  Even though the nerves of a first date had really freaked you out the night before, this morning was fairly calm.  Sure, you took plenty of time in the shower and doing your hair and makeup, but it didn’t feel like you were trying to morph into a different version of yourself to please a man. 

It felt more like you were trying your best to look like your favorite version of yourself. 

You want Eddie to know who you are inside and outside of work, and you really hope that he likes what he finds. 

-

Eddie stays parked outside of your house for a minute or two to try and settle his nerves.  

You lived in a small, red brick house in a family neighborhood.  There were flowers planted in the beds under your windows, and your front door was painted a deep turquoise color.  Eddie sucks in a breath when he sees your figure moving around through the gauzy white curtains covering your windows.  

How can a hazy silhouette still be so beautiful?

Looking into his rearview mirror, Eddie takes a deep breath.

“You got this man.  Be cool.”

He turns his car off and makes his way to your front door, knocking three times and then taking a step back to wait for you.

It takes all of two seconds for your front door to swing open, revealing you on the other side.

Eddie immediately feels weak in the knees.  You looked so cute in your little boots, and he couldn’t help but to let his eyes trail up the smooth skin of your legs.  He gulped a bit at the short hem of your dress, and then realized he should probably say something.

“Hey you.”

“Hi,” You smile up at him bashfully as he looks you up and down.  You take the opportunity to look him over as well, and damn.  You already knew he was sexy, but his tight tee shirt and pulled back hair made you want to drag him into your house and do things to him…

You only notice that he’s been holding a hand behind his back when he brings it out in front of him, revealing a beautiful bouquet of flowers.  

“These are for you.  I didn’t know which was your favorite, so I just asked the lady to throw together a bunch of different kinds and to make it look pretty.”  Eddie holds the colorful bouquet out to you and smiles sheepishly.  

Your mouth hangs open as you reach out to take them, being so careful for no real reason.  You look up at Eddie with those big, sparkling eyes.

“Thank you so much, Eddie.  These are so incredibly beautiful,” he watches you looking down at the flowers, gently brushing your fingers against their petals.  “Let me run inside and find a vase for them real quick.  Come on in!”

You wave him in behind you and hurry inside.

Eddie tries to suppress the excitement he feels at being invited into your home.  He felt like he already got a good glimpse at who you are and how you express yourself when he was inside your classroom, but he’s now getting to see where you spend the majority of your time, where you live.  As he steps over the threshold and into your house, he readies his brain to take mental pictures of everything he sets his eyes on, just in case he never sees it again.

Instantly, he’s hit with a sense of “home.”  The inside of your house is the perfect temperature and it smells so good and womanly, like your perfume and also like you’ve been baking something but somehow also like flowers…Eddie loves it already.

You scurry off into the kitchen, trying not to think about the fact that Eddie Munson is looking around your house right now.

Where in the hell have all of your vases run off to?

Eddie walks around cooly with his hands clasped behind his back, taking in everything about your space.  Much like your classroom, Eddie is able to spot at least four different sized lamps and light fixtures placed around your entryway and living room.  There were warm white Christmas lights hung up along the ceiling, multiple green-leaved plants in different corners, and Eddie even thinks he spotted a black cat sprinting under your soft looking white sectional.

Overall, he’d give your interior design skills an 11/10. 

He’s just starting to miss you a little when you come out from your kitchen holding your flowers in a sparkly glass vase.  

It’s an odd feeling, seeing Eddie in your house.  His ‘edgier’ look seems like it wouldn’t fit with your overall aesthetic, but to your surprise he looks like he belongs here.  You walk up to him almost in a daze, admiring the silver hoop earrings he’s wearing, the smile on his lips, and the way some of his hair has made its way out of his low bun to frame his face.  

The two of you stand there for a moment looking at each other, with you holding your flowers in between your bodies.  You engage in a staring match for almost a second too long before you break the silence.

“No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” you sheepishly admit, looking down at them instead of at him.  Eddie grins at the blush that blooms onto your cheeks after your prolonged eye contact.

Eddie scoffs before he can stop himself.

“Seriously?  That’s a damn shame, sweetheart.”

You look up at him again and try not to faint at how easily the word fell from his perfect lips.  Unable to take another second of his eyes on yours, you retreat into your living room to find the perfect place for your new flowers.  You decide to put them on your coffee table, then turn around to find that Eddie had followed you in.  

He offers his arm out to you, “Shall we?”

This time, you can’t fight the smile.

You take his arm and swipe your purse from the coat hanger next to your front door on your way out.

-

Eddie was the perfect gentleman for the entire duration of the car ride to IKEA.  He had opened the car door for you, he let you pick the music, and he definitely did not sneak a glimpse at your bare, voluminous thighs when your dress shifted as you sat down.  The sweet smell of your perfume spread throughout the interior of his truck, he hopes that smell never fades away.

He couldn’t help glancing over at you every other minute, looking so beautiful in his passenger seat while you bobbed your head to whatever song you had queued up on his phone. 

“Would it be a total invasion of privacy if I played your On Repeat playlist?  I’m dying to know what the music teacher’s favorite music is right now.”  Eddie turned to see that you were smiling pleadingly at him, and how could he say no to that face?

“I suppose,” Eddie sighs dramatically.  “But, you are not allowed to judge me for whatever pops up.”  He playfully points a finger at you while keeping his eyes on the road.  You giggle girlishly.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You hit ‘shuffle’ on Eddie’s playlist and aren’t surprised when the first song that plays through the speakers is ‘The Unforgiven ll’ by Metallica.  You already knew Eddie was a fan of the band thanks to the music he always has playing a tad too loudly whenever you pass by his classroom.

“Oh, I know this song!”

Eddie’s face whips towards you sporting a shocked ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me’ expression.  He was definitely expecting you to be the ‘indie music’ type.  Your eyebrows furrow adorably angrily at the look on his face.  

“What?  A girl can’t like Metallica?” You fix him with a look that tells Eddie he should think twice about his response.

“W-well…I just didn’t expect you to be into them…that’s all.”  You roll your eyes playfully at him and cross your arms.  “But!  I’m very pleasantly surprised that you are!  Girls rule, alright?  Men like…totally suck and stuff.”

You chuckle at his frantic attempt at avoiding a lecture on gender inequality and feminism while settling back into your seat.  And because you actually do know and love this song, you start mouthing the words, which eventually evolves into singing them under your breath.

When Eddie thought he spotted you mouthing the words out of the corner of his eye, he was sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him.  But just barely hearing you singing the words to his favorite Metallica song just further confirmed a fact that he already knew.

Eddie Munson was totally going to fall in love with you.

The rest of the car ride consisted of sharing music, talking about work and life, childhood memories, and other random topics.  Eddie discovered that you love thunderstorms, your cat’s name is Pascal (after the chameleon from Tangled), and that you moved here at the beginning of summer from Chicago.

Eddie swears there’s never been a conversation in history that flowed as well as yours and his.  He felt like he’s known you for years, and he hopes you’re feeling the same way.

You totally are.

-

Once the two of you made it to IKEA and inside the giant store, Eddie quickly realized that he never really put any thought into what he actually wanted to buy for his classroom.  You swiftly came to his rescue and pulled out your phone to open up Pinterest.

Together, you found a couple pictures that matched the general vibe of Eddie’s classroom.  He grabbed a map of the store and a cart, and set off into the maze of furniture.  

You were back to being shy again, now that you were out in the wild with Eddie.  He found that making jokes about all of the funny names got you giggling, and so he didn’t miss an opportunity.

He made you laugh the hardest next to the Koppang drawers.

You bumped your shoulder into his around the Baggebo bookcases.

His hand brushed yours next to a Tornviken kitchen island. 

And Eddie finally worked up the courage to hold your hand next to a Klippan loveseat.

You gasped a little when you felt his warm hand slide into yours, interlocking your fingers together.  A red hot blush worked its way up your neck as you snuck a glance over at him, only to find that he was already looking at you with a smirk.  He knows exactly what this hand holding is doing to you.

He chuckles smugly as the two of you arrive at the lights section of the store.  As he pushes the cart through the aisles, you’re enamored by the twinkling lights that are draped overhead.  You’re lucky he’s holding your hand, or else you probably would’ve fallen flat on your face.  Eddie can’t help but to stare at you as you stare up at all the different light fixtures.  The different colors and hues of light shine beautifully onto your face, and the soft smile on your lips makes Eddie wish he could just grab you and kiss you right here in the aisle.  But, he figures that would cause you to explode after your reaction to his hand-holding.

He watches as you look further down the aisle at the lamps that are on display there, your face lighting up in recognition.

“Oh!  That’s one that I’ve got in my room!”  You point at an orange, donut shaped light called a Varmblixt.  Eddie recognizes it, you do indeed have one hanging on the wall behind your desk.

“I must have it,” Eddie says with a flourish ,”Never have I seen a more extraordinary donut lamp.”

You giggle and go to grab one to place in the cart, but the box proves to be way heavier than you remember.  Eddie notices as soon as you inhale to exert more effort, and he steps in immediately. 

 No fair maiden such as you should be forced to exert any effort whatsoever in his presence.

“I’ve got it, sweetheart.”

You try not to let the name affect you but once again, you fail.  You’re left blushing and biting your lip, speechless.  You stare unashamed at Eddie as he picks up the heavy box and goes to place it in the cart with ease.  The overhead lights were really doing him favors, every ridge and contour of his body was lit to perfection.  You could see the delicious bulge of his biceps, the ripple of his forearm muscles, and the outline of his chest in his shirt….why is your mouth watering?

Eddie easily places the box in the cart, turning to face you again.  He finds you blushing up at him with wide eyes, and is unable to contain the smug smirk on his face.  The sudden lack of distance between the two of you did not go unnoticed by him, he hoped you couldn’t hear his heart pounding in his chest.

The ‘normal you’ would’ve noticed that you were obviously in Eddie’s personal bubble, and you would’ve taken a step back like the respectable adult that you are.  But the ‘normal you’ was long gone in Eddie’s presence.  This version of you was not unlike the version that existed when you were an awkward teenager who was on the brink of passing out anytime a boy even breathed in your direction. 

While you were busy ogling Eddie’s physique, you’d failed to notice the close proximity between the two of you, which led you to your current situation.  

You and him were so close together, you could feel the warm puffs of air from between his parted lips gently hitting your face.  His gaze trailed down from your eyes to your lips, but you wouldn’t have noticed anyways because you were one step ahead of him.

His lips looked so pillowy and soft, you wondered how they’d feel pressed against yours.  Would he kiss you slowly, gently holding your face in his big hands and brushing his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks?  Or would he be rougher than that, grabbing you by the waist and tugging you into him, kissing you with fire and passion?

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow as he watches you suck your bottom lip into your mouth to bite it.  You’re so goddamn beautiful, and you looked like an angel in this aisle of lights.  A lamp from behind you lights up the silhouette of your hair like a halo, and he can see the lights above his head reflected in your eyes like stars.  

Eddie knows he shouldn’t kiss you right now, not in the middle of IKEA where he can hear kids whining to their parents and couples arguing over which shade of beige would match their living room better.  He knows this, but he can’t stop himself from reaching his hand up to gently grasp your jaw.  His thumb slides from your chin to your bottom lip, tugging it free from your teeth.

His hand snakes down to the side of your neck, and you can feel the slight tremor in his hand.  You’re glad that the situation is affecting him too, because you are freaking out.  

Is he going to kiss you right now?  

In IKEA?

On your first date? 

Is this even a date?  

Do you even want him to kiss you?  Idiot, of course you want him to.

Eddie’s eyebrows lift slightly, almost questioning you.  Asking you, ‘Do you want this? Is this okay?’

You answer him with a soft smile, and you feel his hand move behind your neck to pull you in.

It is at this moment that a baby starts to wail one aisle over, effectively ruining any sort of moment you and Eddie had been sharing.

He lets out a frustrated huff, and touches his forehead to yours with closed eyes.  

“Of course,” he groans.

You’re secretly giddy at the fact that he so obviously wanted to kiss you badly.  You bring your hand up to his arm that’s still resting on your neck to give it a reassuring squeeze, and in a surprising burst of confidence, you rise up on your toes to peck him on the cheek.

Eddie’s eyes shoot open at the feeling of your soft lips on his cheek.  He pulls back to stare down at you as his face turns red.

You giggle at him, then turn around to walk down the aisle.

“C’mon, I think I saw another one of my lamps down this way!”

Eddie snaps himself out of his daze with a shake of his head, he’s sure that he’s got hearts in his eyes as he watches you walk away from him.  Grabbing the cart with one hand, he holds his other gently to his cheek, touching the spot that’s still warm from your lips.

-

Eddie ends up purchasing five lamps from IKEA after an hour and a half of wandering through the aisles with you.  

He can’t help but to act like the loverboy he is when he’s looking at furniture with you.  He fantasizes about a life with you, imagining that the two of you are actually here to pick out items to furnish your shared house.  

He wonders which kind of wood floors you’d pick out and which backsplash you’d want in the kitchen.  You’d probably want to decorate with colorful rugs and throw pillows, and Eddie wouldn’t complain.  Not as long as you’re happy.   He’d live in a pink house decorated with bows and lace trim as long as he was living in it with you.  

Maybe he’s getting ahead of himself, it’s only your first date together right?

If only he knew you were having similar thoughts as you strolled up and down the aisles, hand in hand.  You thought about what kind of decorating he did in his house, you figured it was styled in some way considering the amount of effort he puts into making his classroom look as cool as it does.  Does he have shelves full of records or different posters framed and hung up on his wall?  Which side of the bed does he sleep on?  You hope he likes plants, there’s no way you could part with your beloved greenery if the two of you were to live together.

You’re quick to silence the random thoughts buzzing around in your head, it’s silly to think about these things on your very first date…you don’t even know his middle name yet!

You and Eddie both seem to snap out of your stupors at the same time, sighing simultaneously.  You both turn to look at each other and then begin to laugh, unsure on whether or not the ‘jinx’ rules apply in a sighing situation.  

-

Eddie pays for the lights, and soon enough you’re both back in his truck.  

It dawns on you that your date is almost over, but you’re quickly redirected when you hear the starting notes to the next song that starts playing when Eddie’s phone connects to his radio.

Is that…Taylor Swift?

You turn to him slowly, confused at why a Taylor Swift song is on his ‘On Repeat’ Spotify playlist.

Eddie’s already staring at you mortified.  He holds a hand up, pausing any words that might’ve come out of your mouth.

“Before you say anything,” he begins ,”I really admire her lyricism.  Girl’s a wizard with words.”

The two of you sit in a charged silence for a moment before you can’t hold in your reaction any longer.  A laugh breaks free from your chest, and Eddie can’t  help but to laugh along with you.

You’re wiping tears from your eyes as your laughter dies down, and Eddie just grins at you.

“I can’t believe it.  The rock and roll music teacher listens to enough Taylor Swift for it to end up on his ‘On Repeat’ playlist.”  You shake your head at him with a wide smile on your face that Eddie wants to take a picture of and frame.  

“Yeah, yeah…laugh it up.  As a music teacher, it’s my duty to appreciate all types of music.”

You nod along to his explanation, “Yes, of course.  How else are you supposed to connect with the teenage girls these days?”

“Right! Yes!”  Eddie exclaims.  “I do this lesson on lyrics and Taylor’s music is a great example of what storytelling in music can look like.  I respect her, hard.”

You stifle another laugh at his emotional Taylor Swift themed outburst.

“This stays between you and I alright?” Eddie points a finger at you playfully.  “If Harrington gets word of this I’ll never live it down.”

“Of course, my lips are sealed.”  You mime zipping your lips shut and throwing away the key.

Eddie settles back into his seat with a huff, boyishly smiling over at you.

“I have a very important question for you Eddie.”

He leans in, intrigued by your seriousness. 

“Which era are you in right now?”

Eddie scoffs, throwing his head back with a groan.  This sends you into another laughing fit, Eddie can’t help but to join in again.  He’s coming to find out that your joy is such an infectious thing.

“Hmm let’s see…,” he muses.  He turns to look at you with one hand on the wheel and a smirk on his face as he puts his keys in the ignition.  

“Right now…I’d have to go with ‘Lover,’” he says with a wink.

Your laughter is cut off abruptly as you gasp and bite your lip, attempting to subdue the cheesy grin that’s surely made its way onto your face by now.  

You stare unashamed as Eddie puts his right hand over the back of your seat to turn around and look through the rear window as he reverses the car out of its parking spot.  You can smell the cologne he must’ve sprayed on this morning, which immediately awakens the butterflies in your stomach.

As soon as Eddie is set on the route back to your house, he holds out his hand expectantly over his center console.  You look at it, then at him, then back at his hand before shyly placing your hand in his.  He’s quick to lace his fingers through yours, holding on tight and running his thumb back and forth.

You’re both thinking that you could get used to this.

-

Eddie (reluctantly) only lets go of your hand in order to rush around the front of his truck to open your car door for you after he’s pulled into your driveway.  He’s quiet as he walks you to your front door, wondering which way is the best way to ask you out on another date.  

You stop when you reach your door, looking down at your hand in his.  The silence begins to feel just a tad awkward as you both search for something to fill it.

“Thank you,” you start quietly ,”for today.  I had a wonderful time.”

Eddie lets out a relieved breath and grins widely down at you.

“I did too,” he begins, readying himself for his next question.  “Would you…I mean–would you like to…uh…shit, would you want to maybe do it again sometime?”

You know what he means, but it’s still so tempting to tease him when he’s blushing like this.

“Would I want to go to IKEA with you again?”

“N-no!  I mean, if you wanted to we could I guess…b-but I was thinking something more along the lines of dinner?”

You find it adorable how nervous he is to ask you out on a second date, as if you wouldn’t agree to go out to dinner with him tonight.

“I’d love that.”

Eddie’s face lights up with a triumphant smile as he lets out the anxious breath he’d been holding in.  

“Good, that’s really good.”  The way you’re smiling up at him right now is causing him to lose his train of thought.  “Um…how’s tomorrow night?  Around 7?”

“Tomorrow night is perfect.”

“Awesome.  Great, yeah I’ll just…I’ll pick you up, okay?”

You’re beaming as you nod your head, much too ecstatic at the idea of going out with Eddie again to form a coherent sentence.

Eddie finds himself smiling and nodding with you, you’re just too adorable. 

“Hey could I uh…c-could I get your number?” Eddie stammers the question out like he’s a prepubescent teenager, mentally face palming the whole time.

He’s relieved when you chuckle and hold your hand out for him to place his phone in.  He fumbles around trying to give you his phone as quickly as possible, he can’t believe how nervous he feels right now. 

He finally somehow manages to pass over his phone with a new contact page pulled up and ready for you.  You type in your number and name, making sure to add the artist’s palette emoji afterwards.  Eddie laughs through his nose when he sees it, then pockets his phone again.  

There’s a weird tension in the air that can only be brought upon by two people who so obviously want to kiss each other, but are too nervous to make the first move.  Eddie wracks his brain for a way to ask you if it’d be okay for him to kiss you without looking like a total idiot.  It’s really unfortunate that the way you bite your lip causes his mind to completely shut off and switch to autopilot.  

“I really wanna kiss you right now,” he blurts out.

You look up at him, shocked at his bluntness.  Eddie’s even more shocked than you are.

“Y-you probably should then,” you bashfully admit.

Eddie can’t believe that worked.

He steps towards you and softly places one hand on your cheek, the other going to gently grasp the side of your neck similarly to the way he had in IKEA during your almost-kiss.

Your eyes flutter closed as you feel his lips graze yours for the first time.  The feeling is electrifying, and you can’t help but to venture forward for more.  

Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than Eddie imagined. 

You plunge forward to press your lips against his, instantly deepening the kiss.  Eddie found himself instantly addicted to the feel of your lips and the way you sigh into the kiss.  It’s a shy kiss at first, where the two of you slowly begin to figure out your shared rhythm.  But it wasn’t long before you sank into a synchronized dance, mirroring each other’s movements in a way that crafted the most perfect, earth shattering first kiss.  

You let Eddie Munson kiss you at your front door in a way that you had longed to be kissed for your entire life.  This was how the women you saw in movies or read about in books were kissed.  You’d read about magic and sparks flying, and you think you’re finally starting to believe in all of it.  

Eddie moves his hand from your cheek to your waist, gripping it and pulling you closer to him.  The gasp you let out gave him the sweet opportunity to run his tongue against your bottom lip, asking, pleading for an entrance which you of course granted.  You tasted like autumn and felt like home, he decided he could kiss you for hours on end.

You both stood there for a good five minutes at your front door, making out like giddy teenagers and feeling like them too.  Eddie finally pulls away from your lips, pleased to find you subtly chasing his mouth with your own.  You open your eyes and come out of your kiss-induced haze to find him smiling adoringly down at you with both hands now circling your waist.  

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss you once more. 

“Actually, I’m gonna call you tonight.”  He kisses you again.  “Is that okay?”  Another peck.

You're giggling as he places a final kiss on your forehead, “Yes, please.”

“Good.”

Eddie steps back, grabbing your hand to kiss it like he did on Tuesday.  He pulls you back in with that same hand to plant one last kiss on your lips, then jogs back to his truck.  He waves and quickly honks his horn twice as he pulls away.  

You’re left standing at your front door, watching his truck disappear down your street and reliving every moment of your first kiss with Eddie Munson.

When you finally make your way inside, you make sure to smell your brand new beautiful flowers before scurrying off to your bedroom to pick out an outfit for your second date with Eddie tomorrow night.  

TAGLIST:

@josephquinnsfreckles @the-fairy-anon @anukulee @littlebebebunny @meetmeatyourworst @lalalala-melmosworld @someantics @lokis-army-77 @loserboysandlithium @strangerstilinski @mystra-midnight @lesservillain @queenimmadolla @luveline @munson-blurbs @fairyysoup @urhoneycombwitch @oneforthemunny @rebelfell @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @eiightysixbaby @bettyfrommars @loveshotzz @lovebugism @carolmunson @rustedhearts @lonelysatellites

[strangersteddierthings]

Here's a lil idea that I simply do not have the time to make a full fic of, but I gotta get it out or it won't leave me alone.

Steve thinks he's in a happy, fulfilling relationship with Eddie, while Eddie's insecurities have him believing he's just a place holder for the future Mrs. Harrington.

It comes to light when Steve does something cheesy and romantic and Eddie, not able to handle it because it's too romantic, tries to joke about it like "why would you bother to put all this effort in just for me?"

And Steve like "what do you mean? You're my boyfriend and I wanted to"

And then Eddie like "yeah, no, I know that. I just don't understand why." And then he goes on a little self-deprecating rant, explaining all the ways he's not good enough for Steve, all while Steve just stares at him, brow furrowing more and more as Eddie speaks.

When Eddie finally runs out of words, Steve says, "I don't understand? What have I done to make you think this?"

And Eddie kinda blue screens. Because Steve hasn't done anything to make Eddie think this; he's been a perfect boyfriend. It's just... it's inevitable, isn't it? That Steve'll move onto to bigger, better things? Eddie says as much.

"Why?"

"Because it's- because you're Steve Harrington!"

Since Steve's brow can't possibly furrow anymore, he starts to frown now. "I still don't understand?? Why did- do you think I'm just going to be going through the checkout at Melvald's and just decide I want to marry some random woman instead of being with you?"

"What? No. It's not- I don't think you'll intentionally decide you want someone else more just randomly but, like..."

"There's no 'but' here, Eds. I asked you out because I want to be with you. You said yes because, I assume, you want to be with me, too! Was I wrong to assume-"

"NO! No! I do want to be with you!"

"Then.... you think I don't want to be with you?"

"I didn't say that."

"Sorry, it felt like you were implying it. So. If I haven't done anything to make you think I don't want to be with you, and you just said you want to be with me, then what... I don't understand where these thoughts have come from. Have you- were you just going to go through our whole relationship waiting for something bad to happen?"

And Eddie can just look down and shrug because, well, yeah. He had been thinking that. He has been waiting for the other shoe to drop. And now they're having this conversation and he's ruined Steve's sweet, romantic gesture with his own bullshit. So, even if the shoe wasn't going to drop before, it will now, because he's gone and fucked it up by putting his insecurities onto Steve and-

"What can I do to help you believe I'm in it, for as long as you want me?"

Eddie looks back to Steve then, because that's not what he expected to hear. "What?"

Steve steps closer, the furrowed brow and the frown gone, replacing it instead is the sappy look he catches on Steve's face every now and then, when Eddie's doing something particularly Eddie-ish. "Tell me what I can do to help you believe in this. In us. And I'll do it. Every day until we die."

"Steve," Eddie warbles out, surprised by his own watery voice. "I-I'm sorry. I-"

"Hush," Steve says, gentle and sure as he takes Eddie's face in his hands. "No apologies. I get it, so you don't have to apologize. Just. Talk to me, okay? Because I'm not holding out for something better. Not when you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Besides Robin."

"Besides Robin," Eddie agrees, nodding his head as much as he can in Steve's grasp. "But, uh, things like this. This helps." He gestures at the romantic candle-lite dinner slowly getting cold. There are flowers in a vase, and a cheesy little Garfield plushie sitting on the table, leaned against Eddie's wine glass. It's a Tuesday night in June and nowhere near a birthday, or holiday, or anniversary. Steve's just made him a sweet, romantic dinner just because.

"Oh good. You have no idea how much I'm restraining myself by not doing this weekly," Steve whispers before placing a kiss to Eddie's forehead, nose, then lips. "Now. Let's eat dinner before it gets too cold."

And it might take a while, for Eddie's insecurities to fade, but Steve keeps being Steve, which means perfect if not a little snarky, and then the next thing Eddie knows, it's been several decades and Steve will walk with him hand in hand to the courthouse and stand in line for hours to quickly get married. (They'll spend another two years planning the actual wedding because Eddie's dramatic and Steve's a perfectionist.)

[thestarrynightslover]

Discreet Not Detached

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1,397

Warnings: None, really.

Summary: Mike goes to Harvey's apartment to deliver some files only to be proved wrong about his boss being a lonely workaholic.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the show Suits, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: My first Harvey fic in a while, I had the idea based on an episode (I don't remember exactly which) and tried to elucidate to it here. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck and feedback is appreciated as usual!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

Another day in the office, another drama for Harvey Specter: this time it was his associate, Mike Ross, wanting to tell his girlfriend the whole truth about the terms of his employment and Harvey couldn’t let him do it, for obvious reasons. But, as you’d expect, namecallings happened and it all ended with Mike throwing in Harvey’s face his being an alleged workaholic in lack of a personal 一 and, in this case, love 一 life. Emphasis on alleged, cause what Mike didn’t know was that his boss actually did have someone to go home to…

It had been a long day but at least you got to go home to your excentric puddle of comfort of a boyfriend: New York City’s best closer, Harvey Specter. Once you got to your place, where the two of you lived together, you were welcomed with the smell and the view of a freshly cooked dinner that Harvey probably had someone making for the two of you.

As you started taking off your coat and shoes by the door, Harvey came out of your shared bedroom wearing nothing but sweatpants and looking like he’d just taken a shower. “Oh, hey, honey!” He greeted you with a smile on his face. “Sorry I didn’t wait for you to shower but I mingled too much with people of dubious hygiene today, so I kinda really needed to get clean.”

“Ah, that’s okay,” you said while pouting cutely at the same time. “At least dinner is ready, 'cause I am starving!”

“Ha! You say it like it’s cutting-edge news!” He tells you, as he puts on a shirt 一 much to your disappointment. 

“What is that supposed to mean?!” You ask feigning offense while putting away your bag, shoes, and coat.

“It means that you’re always starving, sweetheart,” Harvey answers nonchalantly like it’s nothing.

“That is not true! Or at least it’s not entirely true: I’m always starving if it’s past mealtime and I haven’t eaten!”

“Sure, whatever you say, baby!” He says it already knowing that your hunger and all the pet names will only soften you.

“You know what? After today I don’t even have the energy to bicker with you…”

“That bad, huh?”

“The ED was a complete chaos today, apparently all hospitals were swamped, which is why they called more surgeons downstairs to help out. I’ve been on my feet the entire day! I’m basically dead.”

“Dramatic… But I’m sorry you had a shitty day, baby.” He said coming to hug you from behind in your bathroom. Looking at your reflex in the mirror 一 both of you, together like that 一 filled your heart with love and your mind with peace. Harvey was definitely your happy place.

Some time later, after you’d had your dinner, gotten ready for bed, and watched a sappy rom-com you chose, you and Harvey were already cuddling, almost asleep when you heard insistent knocking on the door.

“Stay here, honey, I’ll go see what that’s all about.” You sorta heard Harvey say to you as you lost your personal space heater.

Out in the living, Harvey opened the door only to find his associate Mike Ross standing there looking all tired and disheveled. Before his boss could even say anything, he went ahead entering the apartment mumbling about the case they were currently addressing in the office.

“Harvey, you’re not gonna believe what I found about our not-so-innocent school teacher!” He said to the older man with such energy that sounded like he had had a few too many energetics.

“What the hell, Mike?! Why are you showing up on my doorstep this late at night?”

“Because I knew you’d wanna see this as soon as possible, besides, it’s not like you’d have anything important going here, would you?” Mike asked sorta mocking Harvey.

Ignoring his employee’s last comment, he took the papers Mike was offering and said: “This better be good, Ross, otherwise you’re gonna meet a whole different side of me.

As Harvey started reading all the documents, Mike started having a look around, cause when would he have another chance at taking a peek at his boss’s house like that again? And he couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing, he would definitely be making a few thousand jokes about it in the near future: there was a romance novel lying on the table, one of those with drawings on the cover that were becoming so popular then.

“Oh my God, Harvey, when were you gonna tell me about your love for reading?” He asked while pointing at the book with his head. 

As Harvey’s eyes emerged from the papers in his hands with a confused look to them, Mike continued: “You know you could have told me, in fact after seeing the kinda genre you like I might actually ask for some recommendations, you know, to get my grandmother a few as presents.” The younger man said already starting to laugh loudly.

“That’s not mine…” Harvey began to answer with his mind still on the documents at hand.

“Oh no? You know there’s no need to lie to me, I promise I’ll try not to judge!”

“Funny. But that’s actually-”

“Mine!” You said as you came out of the bedroom wearing nothing but one of Harvey’s expensive dress shirts. “I don’t think we’ve met yet!” You exclaimed, already extending your hand to shake Mike’s. “I’m (y/n), Harvey’s girlfriend.”

“Girl- g- girlfriend?” Mike looked so shocked he almost choked on his laughter.

“Yes, but it’s doctor (y/l/n) for you.” He answered instinctively moving to your side. “What are you doing out of bed, sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart?” Mike murmured to himself in disbelief of the version of Harvey he was seeing, especially after their argument in the office and the things he’d said to Harvey.

“Well, I assumed it was something work-related when I noticed how long it was taking you to come back and came to drag you back to bed!” You announced to your boyfriend entangling your bodies with certain disregard for the other man standing there in shock.

Only then did Mike notice a framed picture on the sideboard behind him and it displayed both you and Harvey looking at each other with love in your eyes as he carried you bridal style into the water on a beach. Which was another surprise to the young attorney since he didn’t even know that Harvey was a fan of beaches.

“So you’re the famous Mike Ross, then?” You asked, catching his attention again. “You know, it’s very rare for someone to impress Mr. Specter here like you did!”

“Oh, honey, don’t do that, or he’ll spend an entire month finding new ways to subtly bring up in every conversation-”

“Oh, there won’t be anything subtle about it, Mr. Specter,” Mike said mockingly, finally coming out of the shock he had been on. “But I’m curious now, how long have you two been together?”

“About three years, isn’t it, babe?” You answered quickly not paying any mind to the mockery on Mike’s voice.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Wow, I never would’ve guessed it. Harvey never talks about you. Like ever.” Mike impolitely announced. “I mean, I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend and it’s been months since we started working together.”

“Well, that sounds about right since we don’t like to display our personal lives at work.” You said nonchalantly.

“But do Jessica and Donna know?”

“Of course they do. Must I remind you that you’re not a Donna or a Jessica, Mike?”

“Ouch. But do Lewis and Rachel know?”

“No, and no. And as interesting as your findings were, it’s time for you to leave. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow at the office.”

“But-”

“Mike. Now!”

“Oh, Harvey, don’t be like that.” 

“He needs to go now and we need to go back to bed, so bye, Mike!” Harvey said while shoving Mike out the door.

And after he was gone, just like in the picture, Harvey picked you up from the floor and started carrying you back to the bedroom.

“Harvey!” You squealed out. But he didn’t mind it as he tossed you on the bed, got on top of you, and started kissing you. Apparently, Mike’s visit had put him in a good mood. And, apparently, it was going to be a long night.                                                                 

[the-widow-olivia]

I am really happy that (if/when) we get our show back, it starts with a time jump. Here’s why:

1. It means Ed and Stede probably get some time together where nothing interesting happens. They don’t wake up the morning after 2x8 with the English at their doorstep — they get to actually try building a life together. This is really a best case scenario for two wanted pirates, and I love that for them.

2. I have grown very attached to a lot of the fan works around the imagined innkeepers era — we have some incredibly beautiful art and fic that depict the immediate days and weeks after the end of season 2, and I kind of like the idea that those stories could just stay canon-compliant as the story skips ahead to some new era in their lives.

3. What I want most from David and the writers and the actors is what happens after the happily ever after — all the challenges that come with a long-term relationship. And I want that very selfishly as a queer person, because we get a lot of coming out stories and getting together stories, but not as many stories where two people have to negotiate what it means to be together for the long haul. And I want that for them, and for us.

[lizzy06]

Atsumu Miya x Reader Fic Recs!!

(Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad)

Haikyuu! Fic Rec Masterlist

Inarizaki Fic Rec Masterlist

A Debt Repaid✨ by matchumu (oneshot, sibling love)"Just keep the money." Atsumu repeats. "Don't think of it as a charity. Just think of it as a debt repaid."It was Miya Atsumu who bought the first Onigiri Miya store. [COMPLETED]

a world without you by my side by farozaan (oneshot, happy ending, waking up in alternate au, time travel) He wanted just a single day without his brother all around him. That would be paradise. Miya Osamu makes a wish and regrets it. [COMPLETED]

shrimply in love ✨ by @caelivir (oneshot, fluff) atsumu wholeheartedly prayed that you forgot how you first met, and for a while he believed that you did. that is until he finds the literal token from that day.[COMPLETED]

MSBY! Soulmate x Reader by @watevermelon (oneshot, fluff, slight angst to fluff, mutual pinning)You knew all about his personality, whether through the rumor vine or the numerous warnings your friends gave you. But there was no avoiding it - he was your soulmate after all .[COMPLETED]

The Boy Next door by @quirrrky (neighbors, humor, enemies to lovers, fake dating, friends to lovers) Your new neighbor is everything you’ll never ask for. Your life starts changing for better and for worse when Miya Atsumu rents the apartment next to you. The most unfortunate part? Everything about him. With his annoying good looks and equally irritating charm, how can you not resist the boy next door? [HIATUS??] <this is a lovely fic but has not been updated in a while, but I am still putting it up here !!>

In Screaming Color✨ by moonmayhem (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)A soulmate AU where, if you dye your hair, your soulmate's hair changes as well. [COMPLETED]

an epilogue of sorts by mooshys (oneshot, fluff, humor)Atsumu wants to prove that he definitely knows his way around the kitchen by opting to cook dinner for you to celebrate your one year anniversary together. Thing is, he needs a little help if he wants to impress you tonight.[COMPLETED]

Shower Friends ✨✨by just_j(fake dating, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst)The dorm you live in has co-ed bathrooms. Why that’s even remotely a good idea is beyond you; and recently, your precious shower time is being interrupted by a certain blonde haired setter for the volleyball team. And when he lies to his teammates that he has a girlfriend, somehow you get roped into his scheme to convince them he does. [COMPLETED]

A Genius mess by @mimi-cee-hq (oneshot, fluff)Atsumu insults you, the quietest girl in his class. But as he gets to know you, your few words often leave him blushing.[COMPLETED]

(un)loving miya atsumu✨✨ by alicemitch09(angst, Unrequited love, Jealousy, Happy ending)You were 9 when you first met the Miya twins when you moved to Hyogo. The two boys would eventually turn to be your closest friends, as much as rascals the two can be. you loved one twin more than the other - a love that was more than friendship. Sadly, Atsumu obviously loved your big sister more. Of course he did, she was everything you were not.[COMPLETED]

incomplete song ✓✨ | angst, post break up | one shot | by @tooruluv

Hecklin' ✨by Airomi (fluff, humor) according to your experience, bothering someone so much that they fall in love. [COMPLETED]

Call You Mine [Miya Atsumu X Reader] by tsumusamu(friends to lovers, fluff, angst, mutual pinning)Being in unrequited love with your best friend sucks. It's even worse when the friend you're in love with is Miya Atsumu. [ONGOING]

That's My Girl by wttcsms(oneshot, smut) Atsumu Miya gets jealous.[COMPLETED]

Jealous atsumu ✨ by @etherrreal (oneshot, fluff, comfort)atsumu swears he’s not the jealous type, until the pictures you post with his brother prove him wrong.[COMPLETED]

little changes ✨by kuroopaisen (enemies to friend to lovers, past roommates )Miya Atsumu is the bane of your existence. but, that means different things at different times of your life.[COMPLETED]

Mind Boggling Pt 1, Pt 2✨ by @seokiloquy (soulmate au, fluff, humor)At particular times (Once a year/ certain age/ hours/ or randomly) soulmates swap bodies for some time.[COMPLETED]

“These Words”  by @myhaikyuuthings (oneshot, soulmate au, angst)soulmate au your soulmates last words ever said are on your body, they turn red when said, first words ever said to you are on another part of your body, they turn gold when said.[COMPLETED]

with our fates tangled together by @chunhua (oneshot, angst to fluff) soulmates are bound together by a red string.[COMPLETED]

Unexpectedly yours by @love-nishinoya-yu (Soulmate au, oneshot) You have the same tattoos.[COMPLETED]

nice receive✨   by @tsumusamu (oneshot, fluu, humor) eight months into your relationship, atsumu takes you to meet his family. things don’t go as planned, but of course, everything ends up alright in the end anyway. alternatively, miya atsumu adores you and his family thinks it’s easy to see why.[COMPLETED]

I’m Here, So Sleep by @dokifluffs (oneshot, fluff, comfort) Warnings: anxiety towards school and life, overthinking, insomnia. [COMPLETED]

Set the Bar High by BeansNCornbread(enemies to lovers, fluff, smut, angst)A college AU where you work at an off campus bar and when Atsumu finds this out, he never leaves you alone. Classic enemies to lovers storyline with serendipity, snide comments, and a whole lot of sexual tension.[COMPLETED]

you're not the one✨ ✨ by heartcondemned (fake dating, strangers to lovers, fluff and angst) How to make your lifelong crush jealous and like you back? Easy.Fake date one of his friends. [COMPLETED]

So...What do Ya say? by @yourstarvic After finding your fiancé you have been with many years cheating on your best friend. You tried to confront them but they never showed up…So what do you do? You drink at the bar trying to figure out what to do. And who else there to help you if not the good looking stranger you met at the bar? [COMPLETED]

Email Me Why✨ by @yourstarvic(oneshot, fluff, humor)Atsumu needs to come up with the perfect email to go on a date with his captain's little sister. [COMPLETED]

You okay? by @yourstarvic (oneshot, angst) It's your wedding day, atsumu is sad. [COMPLETED]

lazy texter by myhugelove (fluff, humor, online friends to lovers) a short fic in which a schoolmate who is not on his phone much suddenly becomes great at texting when it comes to you. [COMPLETED]

you found me✨ by Amy_stark117(fluff, angst, eventual smut)Miya Atsumu had his life goals set - volleyball, fame, and success. Nothing could stand in his way. You threw all that out the window, simply by sitting next to him in class. [COMPLETED]

7 Reasons by Channelei(mutual pinning, fluff, humor)in which you realize why you fell in love with your hot headed, over-confident, cocky, arrogant asshole of a best friend.[COMPLETED]

then the moment came by @justauthoring (oneshot, soulmate au, loosely based of silent voice) It just never was the right time. Not then, not later, until it suddenly is and everything’s… different.[COMPLETED]

Diligence ✨by kaientai (friends to lovers, childhood friends, requited unrequited love) Diligence requires the courage of a fool who wouldn't think twice before walking into an open flame, and in the span of a few months, your childhood friend Atsumu proved that he truly is one of the biggest fools to date. [COMPLETED]

Forget me,too ✨ by @saintobio (oneshot, angst, hurt/comfort, past lovers) after a series of broken promises and unresolved arguments, perhaps all atsumu needed is to hear you say good bye for one last time.[COMPLETED]

sweetner ✨ by flying_raijin(fake dating, fluff, angst, humor)you're just being petty. Faking a relationship with the first guy in sight after the love of your life dumps you out of nowhere? [COMPLETED]

How He Shows You Affection by @jayeray-hq(oneshot, fluff)[COMPLETED]

He’s My Best Friend by @jayeray-hq(oneshot, fluff)[COMPLETED]

White noise ✨ by 1keshi(childhood friends, friends to lovers, slowburn, fluff, angst) you force a therapist to listen to the story of how you fell in love with your childhood friend, because what else are you supposed to do? [COMPLETED]

A Bit Yours ✨by Declaraso (fake dating, enemies to lovers, humor) Atsumu's clumsy with words. You think he's a jerk. But for some reason, you both agreed to go through such a stupid plan.[COMPLETED]

The Breaking Point✨ by melremade(smut, oneshot)They say there’s a thin line between love and hate. When it comes to Miya Atsumu, it might as well be a brick wall topped with barbed wire and surrounded by a minefield. [COMPLETED]

Perfect Union by wttcsms(oneshot, fluff, smut, friends to lovers)[COMPLETED]

Laws of Motion by miyachondria (friends to lovers, slowburn)First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage -- according to every other person.[ONGOING]

(1) One Missed Call by satorini (teetorini)(smut)You work for an anonymous phone sex business on campus, and you would have never guessed that your first client would be the Atsumu Miya—most popular guy on campus who sits three seats ahead of you in calculus. And you're pretty sure he doesn't even know you exist. [ONGOING]

One Day by flying_raijin()When you get asked by Vogue Japan to be the star of their "Day in the life of a Pro Volleyball player" video, you agree because you don't think there's much that could go wrong. Unfortunately, your boyfriend is an absolute menace, and decides to act as such for the whole world to see.[COMPLETED]

FWB by flying_siphonophore(fluff, smut, angst, mutual pinning)What comes after a kiss that shouldn't have happened in the first place?[COMPLETED]

lovestruck, watching over you by strawberricream(fluff, mutual pinning)in your second year of high school, you catch atsumu’s eye. he tries to get to know you when he realizes that it didn’t take much work to open you up. in your third year together in the same class, he realizes that the hard work came from elsewhere.[COMPLETED]

Storm Chaser by sunmoonstarsrain()Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it's impossible to tame a storm.[COMPLETED]

A Second Chance by Gremlin_Lord (Unplanned pregnancy, angst, fluff) Atsumu broke up with you 3 years ago. But fate had other plans and decided to reunite the two together with your kid along. [ONGOING]

[soo0hee]

In the Middle of the Night...

Pairing — Yoon Jeonghan x afab!Reader

Summary — One year after the snap your life finally is going back to normal again and with insomnia and nightmares plagueing your sleep, you do things you usually wouldn't. Thankfully a little spider is ready to swoop in...

Genre — angst, a hint of fluff, SpidermanAu

Warnings — Depression, mentions of ED, mentions of suicide, alcoholism, guns, mentions of kidnapping, sexuall assault, panic attacks, tell me if i missed sumn

Word Count — 2.8k

Rating — NSFW

A/N — Spidey!Hannie is here my babes, wifes and loves! @tusswrites @tomodachiii @svtiddiess @welcometomyoasis @diamonddaze01

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

You knew that it wasn't a good idea to leave your apartment at ass o'clock in the morning, if it could even be called that already. Most citizens of Seoul were dead asleep at this hour.

Most, but not you. Not when the nightmares of losing your loved ones were still plaguing you to this day. Making it impossible to sleep even now, 5 years later and with everyone who had vanished with the snap coming back again.

5 years of surviving as what you had done could not be called living.

You remembered the screams on the street of people vanishing into dust or of those who had to watch those they loved disappear. You could still feel how the hand you were holding was suddenly gone and you turned around just to witness the horrified look of your baby sister as she to turned to dust.

You felt your throat hurting as you screamed terrified just like half of the earths population and only when things had settled a bit where you able to drag yourself home feeling numb and like you had no joy left in your body just to find everyone gone.

Only your mother was left behind, sobbing in the ruins that had once been the living room of your familys home. They were all gone. Your father, brother, sister and even your beloved cat. It was only you and your mother left. Until the day you came home from your job only weeks later to find that she had left you too.

The blood on the kitchen floor had already started do dry as it seemed to cover every single tile it could reach. The missing knife on the counters cooking block and the metallic smell hanging in the air had burned itself into your memory.

Alone, mourning the disappearance of your family and your missing best friend Jeonghan you fell into a hole that swallowed you and held onto your being with sharp claws.

5 years of missing different puzzle pieces of yourself that left you wondering if you would ever be okay again.

Inclined to ignore the knock on your new apartments door you stayed on the couch with your cloths looking like they had been worn for weeks, which at that point was probably true and you desperately needing a shower and proper meal. But the knocking had been insistent and annoyed you threw your blanket to the floor, almost tripping over multiple take out boxes as you marched over to the door. The peephole was covered from the outside so you were unable to see who it was.

Growling out a curse that got stuck in your throat as soon as you saw who had been covering the peephole with his finger.

Jeonghan, still slightly out of it after having been brought back and having been explained what had happened had immediately went to your old home just to find a creepy stranger who looked like he had been nursing on one whiskey bottle after the other. Determined to find you again to see if you were okay, it had taken him a few days do find you and when he finally did, all he could think about was you. From his friends he already knew that you hadn't vanished after the snap just like they had warned him about the state he might find you in, yet when the door opened Jeonghan felt like he had been punched in the guts.

His best friend, the person he'd do anything for, looked like an empty shell of e person she used to be. It was obvious that the last years have not been kind to you and it took everything in him not do cry for the happy girl you used to be. The light in your eyes was gone, your hair a giant mess and even underneath the hoodie you were wearing, a hoodie he was 100% sure had once been his, he could see that you had drastically lost weight.

Jeonghan had barely caught the door as you slammed it shut or at least tried to before running to hide in the bathroom. He listened to the hysteric crying for maximum 2 seconds before breaking down the door after having heard the shattering of a mirror, scooping you into his arms as you begged for the hallucinations to finally stop torturing your mind.

He didn't mind the blood spilling from your bare knees as you sat in between the mirror shards littering the ground as he fought against you while you fought against him and the demons you were seeing in your terror and only when he forced your face to look at him did you finally give in, finally believing him when he promised that it really was him and not your mind playing tricks on you.

God, just how many times had you seen him when in reality he had still been gone?

Until you had calmed down, hours had gone by when you had passed out from exhaustion right into his arms and for you to get better it had taken much longer.

That was 1 year ago and so far, things were going ok. Telling your family about the tragedy that happened while they were gone had put a strain on all of them and while everyone was trying to live with this new reality, distance had grown larger then you thought possible. But they were back, and that was enough for you.

Now though, you were suffering another night of insomnia so you had grabbed your phone and started your journey to Jeonghans place.

Seoul at 3 am was not your favorite place and walking past dark alleyways gave you slight serial killer movie vibes. Tightening your hold on your phone you dialed Jeonghans number, hoping you wouldn't wake him up.

"Hello there, sunshine! Why are you awake?" your friends far to awake voice rang through the speaker.

"You know, I could ask you the same thing." You countered and earned a huff from the other.

"Yahh, at least I'm in bed unlike a certain someone, right?" he answered just as the honking of a car was much closer on his side of the line then it could be if he was in bed.

"Didn't know that your bed is out on the streets now..." you called him bluff. "I'll be at your place in 15, you know."

There was a moment of silence on his side.

"Wait, you're outside? y/n! It's 3 am! That's so dangerous!" Jeonghan whisper yelled and you faltered a little in your steps, unsure if you should continue your way.

“Sorry... I just couldn't sleep again and-"

You looked around yourself, suddenly feeling like you were being watched.

"Please, go home. Try for me! I'll be over in a bit but please go home!" His voice was urgent in a way you had never heard before. It made you nervous.

"I'm already at the sandwich place not that far and-" You were silenced when you rounded the corner, starring right into the barrel of a gun. The men in front of you, 3 in total were covered in black, guns ready to be used in their hands.

"Gimme the phone darling!" the one pointing his weapon at your face snapped. Fear took a hold of you and with shaking hands you did as told. Jeonghans paniked voice rang through the speaker, having heard what has been said on the other side.

"Not your night it seems like." One of the others cackled at your misery.

The third one grabbed your arm roughly, pulling you along into one of the alleyways while completely ignoring your struggles against his hold.

"No, please let me go! I didn't see anything and I-" you begged, voice wavering as you were pushed against a wall.

"Pull of your shirt."

No. No, this wasn't happening. Or was it?

Apparently you were taking to long.

"I said, take. It. Off!"

You whimpered and reached for the zipper of your jacket. The cold air making you shiver when you exposed yourself to the night and reached for the hem of your shirt. "Please don't do this. Let me go home and you can leave too and-" Pain shot through you as you got struck across the face by the gun.

"Shut up and lose the shirt, bitch."

“Now I do have to ask, is that a way to talk to a lady? Did your mother not teach you any respect!”

3 heads + yours flew around only to find…

Nothing.

“Up here, pabo-ya.”

The heads flew up and came face to face with Seouls very own friendly neighbor hood spider.

He was hanging of the side of the building, head tilted to the side and web attached to the building.

“Fuck off Spiderboy. This is our business and not your’s.” the one with the gun growled annoyed and you could hear the sound of dissatisfaction when the hero jumped down to land on the ground.

“We agree to disagree; is that the way to talk to a lady? Seriously guys, you are not exactly being gentlemen here.” The red masked guy taunted happily as he took two steps closer, causing the other 3 to build a barrier between you and him.

You frantically looked to the side, hoping to find something you could use to defend yourself while Spiderman distracted them enough for you to reach for the pipe laying not to far away. You probably would even have noticed if they weren’t busy trying to scare the uninvited guest off.

The 3 gangsters were pissed, you could hear that even with having heard only half of what was being said and just when the first gun shot rang through the alley, you reached for the pipe you had eyed before.

The sound the metal made when it collided with the mans head that was closest to you would have on a normal day made you sick, but not now you only heaved as you watched him sink to the ground.

Spiderman, having taken down the gunner and now busy fending of the last one webbed his hands together, earning him a loud roar of anger which you silenced with another swing of your own weapon of choice.

You came face to face with the friendly neighborhood spider and for a moment you just stood there in silence until you could hear the sound of sirens in the distance.

The groans of the 3 taken down idiots filled the night and spiderman made quick business webbing everyone to the ground before shooting one up in the air to get ready to swing off; the other holding out to you for you to take.

“Unless you want to stay here to make a police report that the police of Seoul is to stupid to follow through with anyway, I can swing us out of here?”

Hesitant but cold you took it and suddenly he had is arm wrapped around your waist and held onto him for dear life while swinging through the night.

The wind tugged at your hair and clothes and you prayed to everyone who would listen that Spiderman wouldn’t drop you. You weren’t particularly keen on ending as human pancake on the asphalt.

Your feet hit the ground or more like a roof top. The rooftop of your best friends apartment building to be exact. Having spend countless of nights up here with him to chase the nightmares away just trying to feel his presence in the last 5 years right on this roof, you knew exactly where you were.

The question was just- no… this had to be a coincidence, for sure…

“You really shouldn’t be out this late, it’s not safe for a lady like you.” Spiderman said and now that you had calmed a little after your adrenalin rush, something about the chiding tilt of his voice rang a bell in the back of your head.

“Yeah, my friend told me as much… I was on my way to his place when i– you know.”

The hero nodded knowingly. “Yeah about that…” he stated calmly before suddenly ripping the mask of his head and your best friend long black hair fall in front of his face. “What the hell, sunshine?!”

What. The. Fuck????

Mouth basically on the floor you stared in Jeonghans horrified face. It was funny. Shouldn’t you be the one to feel like that upon finding out that your best friend was fucking Spiderman???

“What are you doing outside this late? Were you trying to get yourself killed? Do you know how scared I was when you called?”

But it made sense. His late nights. The fact that he brought you here. His voice.

“You belong in bed! Not out on the streets at 3 fucking am!”

Jeonghan paced in front of you, hand furiously buried in his hair and tugging on it while you still stood frozen on the roof.

“God I think my heart stopped for a moment because of it! You’re going to be the reason I go bald early and I hope you know that I will make you pay for every single hair dye job I get because of it!”

Your mind slowly caught up with the situation even if it gave you a headache. You rubbed your temple with the tips of your fingers hoping to make the incoming pain go away before it really started while Jeonghan kept ranting to himself without looking at you.

“Jeonghan.”

“And not even that but what if I hadn’t come in time? Huh, what then?”

You tried again.

“Jeonghan!”

Failing.

“You could have been kidnapped, thrown in a ditch or what not!”

You inhaled deeply.

“Or, or you could–“

“JEONGHAN!”

“WHAT?”

He whirled around to finally face you. Realizing the situation you were in his stressed look changed into something akin to surprise.

“You–“ you stopped talking to gather your thoughts. “Are so lucky I love you or I might have killed you for keeping this from me!” you spit out, livid about the entire situation. You felt betrayed.

Spider man had been around for years, save for the years after the snap. Did that mean that Jeonghan had lied to you about this since the beginning? I had to be, there was no other explanation other then-

FUCK!

The words that had left your mouth came back to you.

You’re lucky I love you… You’re lucky I love you…

The words echoed back, taunting you like the kids on the playground.

“You-“

“NOT THE POINT, YOON JEONGHAN!” You yelled out in panic.

“We are talking about this!”

“Right after you tell me what all this is about?” You gestured wildly to his mask and suit.

The black webs on red of his spandex contrasted starkly even in the dark of the night and Jeonghan had the guts to look sheepish.

“y/n, I- it’s complicated okay. There was this incident a few years with a radioactive spider and now I’m your friendly neighborhood spider. Please don’t hit me?”

His words came out so fast that you had trouble following.

“Still considering on that.” You shrugged, hands crossed over your chest.

You always had a weakness for Jeonghans puppy eyes and this time, just like the countless times before, they made you melt like butter in the sun.

“I hate you so much right now.” You sighed and Jeonghan cracked a smile.

“No, you don’t. You looove-“

Glaring hard at his smug grin you stared at the ground when Jeonghan stepped closer. You shivered in the cold of the night and your best friend gently loosened the grip you had on upper arms, taking your hand into his.

“I’m sorry, sunshine. I should have told you. Maybe then things like tonight wouldn’t have happened” He raised his free hand to your face, fingers trailing down the side of it and sending shivers down your spine. This time not because of the cold.

“You were there, weren’t you? Just like always.” You swallowed with a lump forming in your throat.

“But I almost wasn’t.”

Whispering into the night quiet enough so a normal person wouldn’t have heard it. “Yet you were, and now get me inside. I’m still freezing and I’m tired.”

Jeonghan laughed loudly, hurrying to pull you towards the door to get inside you followed willingly. You would definitely make him tell you about everything in the morning and god better be with him when you do cause it will be the day Yoon Jeonghan will regret not doing so in the beginning.

But for now, all you wanted was get some much needed sleep.

“So you lo-“

“I will hit you!”

[corroded-hellfire]

Fic request idea baby: what about Eddie with a gf who used to have an ED but she's doing better now but he notices that she's starting to relapse like skipping meals and he brings it up to her and just angst to fluff

+ Hey if ur taking requests:

what about if Effie's gf randomly stops changing in front of him like she's getting into pj and she goes to the bathroom and then starts asking for the lights to be off during sex and he's super confused and asks her about it and basically angst bc she's trying to hide it but may be she had a slip during ED recovery?

+ Hi lovie a lil request! What about Eddie with a gf whose in eating disorder recovery like she used to struggle but it's been a few years since then and she's don't just fine but he notices she's starting to relapse?

These three requests seemed to overlap just perfectly. The beautiful and talented @munson-blurbs was kind enough to write these with me so go shower her with all the love 💚

Warnings: eating disorders, body image issues, relapse struggles. Please, if you want or need to talk to somebody, I'm always here.

Words: 1.5k

You’re fairly certain you’re living on the sun’s surface. 

Logic would say that you haven’t left Hawkins, but the temperature outside begs to differ. 

“Christ, it’s like 1,000 degrees in here,” Eddie mumbles, cracking open a cold can of Pepsi and taking a swig. He plants a kiss on your forehead, careful not to disturb your reading. 

You smile but keep your nose buried in the bridal magazine Nancy had bought for you. Page after page of wedding dresses had you swimming in a sea of white, each more beautiful—and expensive—than the last. 

Oh, well. At least it would give you an idea of what to look for at your bridal appointment in a few weeks. 

What truly caught your eye was an article tucked towards the back of the magazine. Its title boldly declares, “Shedding for the Wedding: Lose that Weight and Look Great!” 

You shouldn’t read it. It’ll only upset you, only bring back the bad thoughts and routines and restrictions that you’d fought so hard to overcome. And yet you’re drawn to it, eyes scanning each fad diet for one that might help you. 

No. Yes. No. Yes. Put the magazine down. Stop reading the diet tips and comparing yourself to the models. 

But they’re so pretty and so skinny. If Eddie saw them, he might not even want to marry you anymore. Not when he saw how beautiful women were supposed to look in wedding dresses. 

Maybe losing a few pounds wouldn’t hurt. One diet couldn’t be so bad. It would be temporary, just until the wedding. 

It was totally fine. 

“What are we thinking for dinner tonight, babe?” Eddie rifles through the pantry and pulls out two boxes of pasta. “We have bowties and rigatoni. I’m personally more of a bowtie man myself, but it’s your call.”

You shake your head. “I’m good. Just gonna have some soup.” Reaching around him, you pluck a can of Progresso off of the shelf. 

“Soup?” Eddie wrinkles his nose in confusion. “It’s hotter than Satan’s tits outside.”

You shrug, trying to play it off casually. “Period craving.”

“You’re not on your period.”

“Well, PMS.”

Something nags at you—if you have to hide your new soup diet from your husband-to-be, maybe it’s not a good idea. Maybe you should put the can away and make pasta instead. But then you remember those gorgeous models, so svelte and sculpted and perfect. 

Soup it is. 

It’s harder to ignore the problem as more symptoms of the illness start to return. The first time you’d gathered up your pajamas and taken them into the bathroom with you, Eddie just assumed you were going to take a shower. When you emerged with bone-dry hair not two minutes later, he was puzzled. But he didn’t say anything, not wanting to come across as overprotective or overbearing. Maybe there was some simple excuse and he didn’t want to make you feel like you have to answer to him about every little thing. 

Eddie can’t ignore that there’s a problem anymore when you slip back into one of your old habits that has always broken his heart. Sex was now lights off and you kept your shirt on. Eddie wanted to see every part of you, touch every part of you. He was going to be your husband and the fact that you didn’t want him to see this part of you—that he has made very clear in the past that he fucking loves—disheartens him. 

Stress begins to build up within Eddie. He feels like he’s toeing the line because he doesn’t want to sound accusatory, but he also knows something is going on with you. And he has a pretty good idea of what it is. You try to hide how you pinch at your stomach and thighs, but he sees. The way you measure your wrists with your fingers all throughout the day. He wonders if you even realize you’re doing it, or if it’s reflexive at this point. 

Though you never mention it, you always have your green journal around the kitchen. Eddie respects your privacy enough not to go through it, but reaching for the keys over your shoulder one evening he notices that you’re making a list of what you’ve eaten that day. His stomach sinks as yet another familiar pattern emerges from the days when your disorder was at its worst. Your fiancé is coming closer to his breaking point and he still doesn’t know what to do or even who to go to about this. 

The final straw though is when you turn down girls’ night with Nancy and Robin at the Cheesecake Factory. You lived for nights out with your two best friends. They knew you almost as well as Eddie did though, so he knew you wouldn’t be able to sit down at a restaurant with them and bullshit your way out of not eating a proper meal like you should. 

Eddie knows now he has to say something. Anything, really. When you walk out of your shared bedroom in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, Eddie chews on his bottom lip as he mentally prepares for the conversation he knows needs to happen. 

The moment you sit down on the couch, Eddie sits next to you. You reach for the remote but your hand doesn’t even make it to the piece of plastic before Eddie speaks.

“Can we, um, talk?”

“About what?” you ask, sitting back against the couch cushions. 

Your fiancé leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He rubs his hands together and his tongue pokes out of his pouty pink lips like it does whenever he’s concentrating on something. 

“I’m worried about you, babe,” he finally says. “You’re not yourself.” 

Eddie doesn’t miss the way you reflexively shrink in on yourself.

“I’m just stressed with wedding stuff,” you say. 

“That’s why you didn’t hang out with Nancy and Robin?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“Mhm.”

“And all the pinching and not eating and not wanting me to see you naked? Is that because of wedding stress, too?”

You turn away from him and pull your knees to your chest, but he moves to face you again. “Baby, I know something’s wrong. And the last time I saw you like this, it was because…”

“I told you, I’m fine,” you snap. “I’m just stressed. Maybe if you spent more time helping me plan and less time planning stupid campaigns for a game you played back in high school, you’d understand.”

The accusation is unfair, and you know it. Sure, you’ve been doing most of the planning, but he’s been there every step of the way.

Eddie winces at your harsh tone. He looks like he has a rebuttal but gives up after a moment “Fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

Guilt from your outburst wracks your body and holds sleep hostage. After tossing and turning for a little while, you hear soft cries coming from Eddie’s side of the bed. 

“Eds?” Your heart leaps into your chest. “What’s going on?” You give him a hug from behind, latching on like a koala to a tree trunk until he turns to face you. 

Even in the darkness, you can see the way his eyes shine with tears. “I know you relapsed and…and I don’t know what to do,” he manages through his sobs. “I don’t know how to help, so I just stand there like a goddamn idiot, but I can’t keep pretending like nothing’s wrong! I can’t keep pretending that you’re not hurting yourself!”

He knew. The whole time you thought you’d been protecting him from the truth, and he knew. 

You wipe at his cheeks, feeling the moisture on your palms. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie shakes his head. “‘S not your fault, I know it’s not, but…you need to get help for this. I can’t lose my girl.” He presses his lips to your forehead and lets them linger there, holding you as tightly as he can. “Please. Please.”

No. You need to lose weight. You need to look good; no, perfect in your dress. All eyes are going to be on you, and you can’t show a single flaw. 

The argument sits on your tongue, defensiveness ready to spring into action. But then you see his brokenness, his vulnerability as he unabashedly wears his heart on his sleeve. 

Skinny. Skinnier. Skinniest. 

But then—Eddie. 

Eddie, who laid his heart out for you. Who let down the walls he’d spent years building just so he could receive your love. Who felt your pain despite your best attempts to shield him from it. 

Maybe you weren’t ready to get better for yourself, but until you were, you could do it for him. 

You nod, pulling back and kissing him softly. “I will. I promise. First thing tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll wake you up the moment the sun rises.”

At this, you have to let out a small laugh. “The therapy clinic doesn’t open until nine.”

Eddie cradles your face in his calloused palms, leaning in to gently kiss your nose. “Then I’ll wake you up at nine.”

[poppadom0912]

🥐 jay halstead fic where reader is kim's or sylvie's younger sister and she meets jay at kim or sylvie birthday party at molly's and takes liking to jay and her sister notices it and makes it her mission to get them together

maybe with some playful cheeky teasing from jay before he makes a move 🤭

A/N: Thank you so much for ordering. I ended up writing much more than I intended and I kinda struggled to put in some teasing but I hope it's okay. Please enjoy!!

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

You were a little tipsy.

Work had been horrible. Today had probably been a record-breaking day in the labour and delivery ward but somehow, all of your patients had faced an ailment and some babies also struggled. You and your team were confident in your abilities but there was still the unease of what could happen overnight.

But today was your sisters birthday and nothing was going to get in your way of celebrating and making tonight all about her.

All the people important to her were in the firehouse and so tonight would be a big celebration with everyone and you’d take her out later in the week.

She hadn’t paid for any of her drinks, the one rule you had placed because obviously, its her birthday.

As the night progressed, Sylvie got more and more drunk but she deserved to have fun. And as the night went on, Molly’s got more and more busy as all the first responders started piling in after their shifts.

You recognised a few of the doctors and nurses from the ED and you heard Matt greeting a few men who you remember being part of ‘Intelligence.’

At one point, you found yourself talking with April and Maggie before you heard Sylvie calling for you across the bar.

Adhering to her calls, you made your way towards your sister who had the giddiest smile on her face, cheeks rosy and hair still somehow perfectly intact.

“Hey hey hey, can you pleeeassse get me some rosé?” She asked nicely, the most innocent expression on her face.

“Sure!” You nodded, feigning agreement as you turned to Hermann. “Can we have some water please. I think we’re done now Hermann.”

You pretended not to hear Sylvie’s ‘cries’ in despair, melodramatically acting as if it was the worst thing in the world you had inflicted on her.

You only received a sound of acknowledgement from Hermann who was swamped in orders.

“Oh hey, happy birthday Sylvie.” A sudden presence at your side appeared out of literal nowhere, smiling at your sister who was slowly getting out of it.

“Aww, thank you so much Jay- Omg Jay this is my sister Y/N, she works at Med.”

You turned to look at this ‘Jay’ and-

Oh wow- what a handsome looking specimen.

“Hi-“

“His brother is Will, they’re brothers Y/N.” Sylvie stressed, as if that idea was unbelievable.

“Oh, hey I’m Y/N. I think Will’s mentioned you a few times, you’re the accident-prone brother right?”

Jay chuckled, rolling his eyes at your words but there was no harm behind it. “Yeah, he’s exaggerating but yep, that’s me, nice to meet you. Sylvie’s mentioned you a few times as well.”

You were not expecting that. When on earth did Sylvie ever have the time to have full on conversations with a detective?

“All nice things I hope.”

“Don’t worry.” Jay assured you, his eyes not leaving yours even as he spoke of your sister. “She’s only said the best things and anyone related to Sylvie is definitely going to be an angel.”

You were speechless. A man who was technically still a stranger was being the nicest any stranger could be. You couldn’t help but feel heat rush up to your cheeks.

You giggled, trying to ignore your reddening cheeks. “That’s so sweet, thank you so much.”

This back-and-forth exchange only continued and the water you ordered went forgotten. Unbeknownst to both of you, Sylvie who was still sat next to you, was watching all of this unfold and despite her drunkenness, she took everything you-related very seriously.

And by the looks of it, she was about to play matchmaker again.

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

You were visiting Sylvie at the firehouse on one of your days off. Everything had been normal, Sylvie was being her usual self until the firehouse received some visitors.

You recognised the three detectives walking into the firehouse, one of which increased your intrigue.

Sylvie didn’t miss your straying eyes as the passed by the bunk rooms.

Sylvie gasped in her usual dramatic style, scaring you to bits.

“Oh my gosh Sylvie!” You slapped her on the arm, shoving her face away when she kept coming towards you. “Sylvie you weirdo!”

“Y/N!” She shook you, probably jostling your brain while she was at it.

“You have a crush~” She said in song, the most stupidest smile on her face.

“You’re such a child.” You tutted, slapping her again on the shoulder. “Stop it you weird child.”

So she listened and stopped… for now at least.

Her smile remained stuck on her face and the blush remained on your cheeks.

Oh, this was getting good. Sylvie knew exactly what to do.

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

Sylvie just so happened to be at Med then next time you saw Jay.

You were taking a break and went outside the emergency department where they had a really expensive coffee cart when you bumped into Jay.

Apparently, he had just finished interviewing a suspect who just had an accident, he caught up with his brother and was now waiting for his partner to finish up inside.

That left the two of you outside alone.

He kept you company in the line and when you went to pay for your coffee, his hand equipped with his card came flying out of nowhere, paying for your coffee.

The audacity of this man.

“Ah- excuse me.” You scoffed, almost frozen in shock as he took the coffee when you didn’t move, gently ushering you away so the line could keep moving. He hand on your waist totally didn’t do anything to you.

Jay hummed, raising an eyebrow with that smirk on his face, imploring you to try it.

You wanted to smack that stupid smirk off his face for good. This silly man had such a grip of the butterflies in your stomach just with his facial expressions.

You were speechless. You had no words to say to him so instead, you went to go grab the coffee cup out of his hand when he took a sip, eye contact maintained the entire time and gave it to you with a smug smile on his face as that single sip of coffee from your cup had fulfilled him.

You failed to pick up your jaw. You simply took a sip from the coffee that was yours.

Sylvie also failed to pick up her jaw from the ground, stood frozen several feet away from you two.

Maybe she didn’t have to intervene after all.  

🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐

Sylvie had one goal to achieve today and it wasn’t for this party to be perfect. No, Sylvie was going to get you and Jay to finally make a proper move and get you guys to start dating.

She was sick and tired of the endless flirting that went nowhere and she couldn’t look at your lovesick face whenever Jay was in your vicinity.

All would be fixed today, on your birthday.

Sylvie wanted to go all out because you were her sister and an amazing party with friends is the least you deserved. So yes, she still wanted this party to be perfect, but that was on the side for the meantime.

Sylvie had this all planned out so meticulously that even Matt side eyed her warily.

She claimed that she was too busy setting everything up at her apartment and needed someone to go pick you up. It ‘just so happened’ that she invited Jay and incidentally told him to come earlier than when the party was actually meant to start.

She was the perfect actor, gasping in near horror when she saw the time in the living room where she was surrounded by unfinished wrapped presents and decorations that were half done.

It was so easy to get Jay to do exactly what she wanted and deep down, Sylvie knew that he would’ve done so without her even asking.

Just like that, Jay was on his way to pick you up and Sylvie could drop the act and get down to business.

Fast forward two hours later and the party is in full swing. You had been thoroughly surprised and you happiness continued increasing as Sylvie did more and more as the evening unfolded.

Your cheeks were hurting from how much you were laughing and Sylvie couldn’t help but keep an eye on Jay who hadn’t looked away from you for more than a few seconds.

This was perfect.

During dinner, she sneakily got you to sit down besides where Jay was already sat. You had been so distracted talking to her that you didn’t even notice her physically pushing you towards that specific chair.

Sylvie also purposefully put your favourite dish the further away from you so that when you inevitably noticed its presence, you would have to ask if someone could serve you and the first person to take your plate was easily going to be Jay, Sylvie had no doubt about it.

And she was proved correct as said man wasted no time in serving you the perfect portion size.

Your giddiness was practically palpable at this rate.

The rest of the night went equally as smoothly. As everyone was leaving, tidying ensued and Jay was still here.

Everything was still going according to plan.

Elbowing Matt, ignoring his grunt at the sudden motion, Sylvie stood up straight from loading the dishwasher. “We’re all done in here so we’re going to get going.”

Before you could say anything, she went on, “I know I said I’d sleepover but Matt had this thing really early in the morning and he needs my help.”

Matt was caught very off guard, he spluttered as he realised what was happening and didn’t want to be blamed for preventing the two sisters from being together.

Sylvie elbowed him even harder this time, her smile tightening. “I promise, next time I’m staying and we’re doing brunch.”

Your disappointment was quickly eased at her suggestion and in less than five minutes, Sylvie was ushering a very confused Matt out the door, leaving you and Jay alone.

“Love you so much Y/N! Have a good night you two!” Sylvie waved at you two, closing the door behind her with a content smile on her face, sighing in satisfaction and fulfilment.

“Sylvie-“

“Shhh.” She shushed him, her finger at his lips. “Let’s get you home Matt. I’ve got everything under control, trust me.”

Sylvie had no doubt about it. She went to sleep the happiest she had been in a long time.

When she got up the next morning to your text messages with some very unkind words, calling her some very nice names, her smile widened.

Plan to get Jay and Y/N together was officially successful.

[dark-konohagakure2]

imagine succubus!reader lurking in the phantomhive manor to find a victim for the night cause a succubus gets their energy if they take control but ends up getting caught and noncon-ed by sebastian until she cant take it anymore and begs to stop

UGHHH I HAVE BEEN STUCK WITH THIS IDEA SINCE THE DAY I IMAGINED IT 😭😭 petition for more succubus!reader fics 😔

tw: noncon, succubus!reader, size difference, tail pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, humiliation, creampie

All characters depicted are 18+

Sebastian takes his duties as the butler of the Phantomhive household very seriously, so seriously in fact that he doesn't ever sleep, mainly because demons don't need to sleep, but the fact still remains that there is no butler more diligent than Sebastian. His keen senses are able to pick up on the smallest of noises, even the faintest creak of the floorboards won't escape his notice. If a pin dropping doesn't go unnoticed by Sebastian, then there is no way in hell that he won't notice the presence of another hellish entity in his midst.

He is equal parts intrigued and concerned. Sebastian knows he can effortlessly dispatch any threat towards his master, bit even so the thought of another demon being after him is quite concerning. Never one to waste his time dwelling on any worries he might have, Sebastian will quickly do his part as a butler by apprehending the uninvited guest.

It's comically easy for Sebastian, he's not called a devil of a butler for nothing, he's able to use his superior strength to yank the little demon over to him when she's unaware, grabbing her by the pointy tail, which makes her hiss out in pain like a cat. Sebastian likes cats, even the ones with claws, but he sadly can't pet her, not when she's been such a bad girl as to even attempt to endanger his master.

Sebastian knows precisely how to deal with a naughty little succubus like herself, her kind feed off the sexual energy and desires of men, so he'll give her exactly what every succubus wants, he'll give it to her until she's begging him to stop. It's a fitting punishment for the demonic intruder, and it finally gives Sebastian the opportunity to stop feigning his humanity, even if just for a short while.

"Naughty thing, did you truly believe you could intrude oh my master's property without consequence? Oh how adorable~ I'll be sure to give you something to remember before sending you back to our home~"

His eyes are glowing unabashedly now, the glowing red orbs now having a feral intensity to them as he starts teasing the lesser demon, yanking on her tail roughly as he exposes her holes to his hellish gaze, teasing her sensitive pussy lips mercilessly before he decides to have his fill of her. Sebastian hasn't had a good fuck in a while, and certainly never with another demon that was aware of his true nature, so he's going to savor this rare treat.

Being centuries old, Sebastian is well versed in the art of making somebody come undone around his cock, whether they want to or not. His hips will slam against her from behind, his balls slapping against his ass while he fucks her raw, pulling on her tail like a bully pulling on the braids of a girl he likes. Sebastian's cock is long and thick, even in his human form, so it'll ram against her oversensitive womb with every thrust, forcing her into one mind breaking orgasm after the other.

Demons typically can't reproduce with one another, so Sebastian can cum inside of her to his heart's content without a care in the world, and he won't be satisfied with cumming inside of her just once, he's going to breed her until she's begging him to stop, and for hours after that too. It won't take long for her to go from confident and rude to whining and pleading with him to show mercy, but nothing will come of those pleas aside from her receiving even more mockery and even more loads shot into her already overstuffed womb.

He finds her reactions and pleading to be both adorable and pitiful, not to mention ironic; a creature who feeds off of sex now begging him to stop fucking her, her impish pussy overflowing with cum and weakly gripping his cock, fucked loose from the brutal pounding she's getting. He definitely won't be stopping anymore despite her pleas, after all, lesser demons make lovely fucktoys.

"Oh my~ begging already, little one? How sad, your kind usually loves getting ravished so, you truly are a disgrace from all demonkind~! How cute~!"

But alas, he can't keep this adorable little kitten as a house pet as much as he wants to, his young master would never allow such a thing, but Sebastian takes pride in the fact that he successfully subdued another interloper, and she won't mess with him again, that is unless she wants her holes destroyed again.

[xhoneygirlxx]

Scream For Me

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: there's just something about your boyfriend in a Halloween mask.

warnings: fluff towards the end. smut. Minors DNI 18+ only!!! unprotected p in v. creampie. mask kink. talks about knife play. Eddie and Reader are both 20+. size, ethnicity, and skin color are not described. reader is described as having hair. pics are for aesthetic purposes only. grammar errors/shitty writing. not proofread! If I miss anything please let me know.

If you are an ageless/faceless blog DNI, you will be blocked.

a/n: Happy late Halloween love bugs!!!!!! it feels like forever since i've posted anything! this month has been nonstop for me as far as personal life goes so i haven't had time to really post anything. i know this isn't that long of a fic, it's more of a blurb tbh, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys. thank you all for being so patient and loving! i hope you all enjoy :)

"Fuck you're so dirty, baby." Eddie pants harshly, the words are slightly muffled underneath the mask.

He's right, you're downright filthy for getting off on him wearing the mask of a famous fictional character. It shouldn't be as arousing as it is, Ghostface leering over you, but the wetness that seeps out of you as Eddie continues to fuck you won't stop.

His thick cock continues to pound into you, hitting that spot you can never seem to reach on your own, making you moan loudly. The sound of skin slapping against each other, the squelch of your sopping heat, and the grunts of your boyfriend only turns you on further.

"Can't believe my girl gets turned on by a mask," He says breathlessly, "All those -Fuck-, all those times we watched that movie, must've been soaking every time, huh?"

You can't help but clench around him, just the idea of you secretly getting off without your boyfriend ever knowing really does something for you.

"Ah shit, you really like that? Liked imagining me fucking you just like this all those times?" Eddie grunts, snapping his hips even faster than before.

You begin to claw at his pale skin, leaving red scratches along the expanse of his back as he continues to abuse your g-spot so perfectly.

"Yes, fuck yes!" You scream as your eyes roll back in pleasure.

Eddie chuckles deeply, almost dark and twisted like he's enjoying watching you completely unravel underneath him.

"Bet you'd like it if I marked you up, yeah? Want me to carve my initials into you?" Snaking one of his hands between the two of you, he begins to draw tight circles on your abandoned clit, making your hole hole grip around him tighter.

"Please, Eds. I w-want that s'bad. Please give it to me." You're beyond babbling at this point. The line between reality and your impending orgasm are starting to blur, the thin string that holds you together ready to snap at any moment.

Going faster than before, Eddie picks up his pace not only for his sake but for yours as well. Even under the the protection of his mask you know he's going to break any moment just from the gasps and whines that falls from his mouth.

"Shit, you're so good. S'good for me, always so good f'me." It's panted in between thrusts, the slap of his balls off of your ass filling the silence between words.

"Gonna let me cum in this tight pussy, huh? Gonna -fuck- gonna let a masked killer breed this pretty cunt?"

"Please, wanna feel it drip out of me." It sounds airy and light despite the weight of your request.

It could've been the words that were spoken between the two of you, or maybe it was the visual in your minds, either way it sets the two of you off like fire works.

You release around him with a silent scream, the kind that has your head thrown back and your body arched into his chest. Eddie, on the other hand, moans loudly while tucking his masked head into the crook of your neck.

As the two of you come down from what has probably been your biggest orgasms, you relax into each other. His chest on yours, breathing slowed and synched up, and hearts banging against one another in a soothing rhythm.

Pulling away from you too quickly for your liking, Eddie pulls out of you causing you to hiss from the loss. Pulling off the mask, Eddie looks at where you were once connected, watching as his seed drips from your clenching hole.

"Fuck, that's hot." He rasps out.

You can't help but cover your face with your hands, embarrassment stinging at your cheeks at his raunchy words. Eddie seems to notice your flustered expression, a dopey smile spreading across his red and sweaty cheeks.

"Don't get all shy on me now, baby. You were just begging for this exact thing." It's teasing and playful when he says it but for some odd reason it makes your belly flip with excitement.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." You roll your eyes, even though you're no where near annoyed. "Thank you for doing this for me by the way, 'appreciate it."

The two of you stare at each other with love sick smiles for just a moment, then Eddie is quick to lean over and meet your lips with his own, something you've been wanting this whole time.

"No need to thank me, bub. You know me, willing to do anything and everything your little heart desires." Boping your nose with his ringed finger, he continues to look down at you like you've hung all the stars in the sky.

"Speaking of," He begins to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear nonchalantly, "Any other masks you're into that I should know about? Ya know like Michael Myers, Jason, I don't know the Phantom of the Opera?"

"Stooop it." You drag out, turning your face in order to hide your embarrassment.

"Okay, I quit. M'sorry." Eddie laughs, placing a loving kiss on the heated skin of your cheek.

Excepting the warm embrace, you hum into the feeling of his kiss, letting your heart light with love. The sweet moment is over way quicker than you'd like though, your boyfriend being too quick for your liking.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say it's the Myers mask."

Reaching for a pillow, you throw it right at Eddie's head with a loud thwap. The metal head falls on top of you with a muffled oof, followed by the loud boom of his laughter.

"You're not funny, Mr. Munson." You chastise him, the brown curls of his hair tickling the tip of your nose.

Lifting his face to look at you, his brown eyes are warm and sweet, and his smile is big and bright.

"Yeah? And I think you're beautiful." It's sincere falling from his pretty pink lips, sickeningly sweet. It's so sweet in fact you could get a cavity.

Wrinkling your nose, you try with all your might to stop the smile that begs to be shown. You're quick to lose the battle as your mouth curls upwards and your teeth begin to poke through, shining like the lights on a Christmas tree.

"Also, I love you." Eddie adds, the dimples on his cheeks deepening as his lips stretch more.

Again, you roll your eyes playfully before kissing the sweat soaked skin of his forehead.

"Yeah, well you stole my line, lover boy." You say with a playful kind of irritation. "I love you too."

Thank you all for reading! I'm sorry this was short and not so good. I hope you all enjoyed it. Happy Halloween <3