#barbie hand purse

[tiredofthehumanlife]

I like our kitchen is that okay with you?

Barbie dolls: five hargreeves x gn! reader

Words: 3.6k words

Summary: you guys are just lovey dovey while getting ready for Grace's birthday party

Warnings: set in those few good minutes of s4 when everything was fun and nice, insinuated you're an early riser, Viktor doesn't get kidnapped everything is perfect, you sleep on your stomach now, five touches your butt, mention of nonsexual nudity, you lean your head of Five's shoulder, insinuated you don't want kids but five could be joking who knows, you work at the library now and are a massive music freak, Fives a thrifting GOD, pretty much just docile and sweet five and you, five is still at the CIA oops sorry, you're kinda a passenger royalty Five will not let you open a single door, mentions that you have a bag but its not specific on what kind could be a purse could be a backpack could be a fucking draw bag tbh, you are fun, okay bye

Request: dude stop snooping on me how did you know it was a request

Five was the worst to wake up next to. He snored with his mouth open, drool slipping down to his pillowcase. Somewhere during the night, he flung his hand towards your face, pushing the blanket over your eyes. His hand was still resting on your forehead, palm to the ceiling. Somehow, one of his legs was hanging off the edge of the bed while the other was thrown over your butt. You thought about not sleeping on your stomach anymore so he’d stop kicking you on the ass at 2:46 am every night, but you worried you’d miss his contact. You had one hand resting over his heart, and as gentle and regular as your position seemed Five made up for it with his 'I'm a fallen spider’ position every night. Five jerked in his sleep, knocking the back of his hand into his chin. You sat up, glancing around the room.

With sleep clouding your vision, you gently move Five into a slightly less strange position. You pulled both his hands to his stomach, letting them rest there. You moved his one leg away from your behind, letting the other stay where it was halfway off the bed. You got out of bed, tucking the blankets back in on Five’s sides so he wouldn’t feel the difference in warmth. You still weren’t entirely sure if Five knew he slept so weirdly, you woke up before him every day.

You watched Five from the doorway. He smiled in his sleep, something fun must be happening in his dream. He snuggled further into his pillow, letting out a sigh. You headed towards the kitchen, playing your music very quietly as you started breakfast.

This was a pretty regular routine. By the time you were setting the plates down on the breakfast table, Five was stumbling through the doorway. You glanced up at him. Five squinted at the light peeking through the curtains from over the kitchen sink. He looked around the room, his shoulders sinking when he found you. Five headed straight for you, reaching his hands out for your face. He greeted you with a kiss. You pulled back from the kiss with a smile.

“You know, I never move. I don’t know why you look around the room like you’ve never been here before.” You said, pulling his hands away from your face to hold them. Five shrugged.

“Maybe I like looking at our kitchen.” You hummed at him, pulling away to settle into your chair. As you both ate breakfast, you studied the kitchen more than usual.

It wasn’t anything crazy. A strange part of your brain, that you didn’t like to talk about much, assigned colors to lots of things. For example, the number seven was orange however eight was green. If you had to pick a color for your kitchen you’d pick that weird middle ground between yellow and orange that sounded like swings squeaking when you tried to fly as a kid and staring up at the trees and watching the sunlight shine through the leaves.

Your kitchen was in a small rectangle shape. The cabinets were brown and a small rounded dining table was shoved into the back right corner. On the one long side of the rectangle were the sink, oven, refrigerator, and many cabinets top and bottom. It had a window over the sink, so you could peer into the backyard as you did the dishes. The other long side of the room was the open, welcoming the sight of your living room. A small line of bottom cabinets jutted out on that side along the line where a wall would be. You never added barstools on the side in the living room but you could’ve.

As of right now, it was that time in the morning when it had the calming feeling of the night but the warming sun of the morning. The light was peeking through the kitchen window, shining through the floral curtains Five found at some estate sale. The light caught in the beaded curtain you made and hung behind the small floral curtains and made colors dance on the kitchen counter and couch arm.

There were pictures of you and Five hung on the refrigerator with tiny magnets that had different foods on them. Once again Five found them at some estate sale. You looked down at your plate, remembering the tablecloth Five brought home from a thrift store because it was your favorite color with the tiniest embroidery of your favorite animal.

You leaned forward over the table, knocking Five’s chin up, and capturing his lips in a kiss. It was kind of gross. He had a bit of syrup on the side of his mouth and he tasted faintly of bacon. You settled back into your chair, continuing your breakfast as if nothing happened. Five squinted at you, wiping at the corner of his mouth and sticking his thumb in his mouth. You grimaced.

“What was that for?” Five asked. You shrugged.

“I don't know, I like looking at our kitchen.” Five stared at you for a moment like he was trying to read your mind. He hummed, paying his attention back to his food.

A few thirty minutes later, Five was rushing out the door while fixing his tie. You followed after him, half-ready yourself, your shift didn’t start for another thirty minutes.

“Briefcase?”

“Hand.”

“Brushed your teeth?”

“New toothpaste and everything.”

”Lunch?”

“Other hand.”

“Coffee?”

“They have some at work.”

“You hate that coffee.”

“I can’t hear you over me about to be late.” You glared at Five’s sass. He made a frown at your look. “Sorry.”

“Socks?” Five stuck his foot out at you, showing off his lovely charcoal grey socks. ”Summer colors, beautiful.” You said sarcastically.

“It's the CIA, my love, not a Betsy Johnson fashion show.” Five said, slipping his shoes on as fast as he could. He glanced up at you through his mop of hair.

“Did you do your hair?” Five glared at you. You dropped it, moving on to the next thing.

“Wallet? Keys? ID card?” You asked. Five pulled his other shoe on, standing up straight. He faced you again, smiling as he leaned down to grab his suitcase.

“It’s fine, baby. Just like literally every other morning. I’m not going to forget anything. It’s basically impossible.” Five said. You followed him to the door, holding it open as you waved him down the hallway. Once he turned the corner, you returned inside. You furrowed your eyebrows when you felt like you were missing something. Chalking it up to you still not being dressed for work, you headed back for your bedroom. You stopped in the living room when you heard the front door open. You walked back to the front door, bumping into FIve halfway there.

“Turns out I can forget things.” Five muttered.

“It was your keys wasn’t it?” Five shook his head. He leaned down and gently pulled you into a kiss. He pulled you closer by the front of your pajama shirt. You would’ve returned the ferocity, but you knew better than to wrinkle his suit. You held your hands up in the air next to your head but still leaned forward towards him. Five pulled back, still keeping small contact.

“I have to go.” He said, muffled by your lips. You wouldn’t have understood him if you hadn’t had this problem multiple times before.

“You have to go.” You repeated, and yet still leaning forward. FIve hummed.

“I have to go.” He said again, although there he was still keeping his eyes closed and lips pressed to yours. He pulled back, finally breaking whatever spell you two were under.

“I have to go.” He said for a third time, walking backward towards the door. You followed after him, nodding along. Five stopped in the doorway, staring at you. You motioned for him to go. He sighed.

“I love you.”

“Go.” Five nodded, slipping outside and down towards the driveway. You stood by the door again, watching him walk towards the car. You are startled when you realize you didn’t say it back.

“I love you!” You yelled after him, watching him spin around and blow you a kiss before settling into his car.

Hours and hours later, you were shelving books, as your average librarian does. You had one of your headphones in and playing your music. It was quiet, as many libraries are. You pushed another book into the right spot, before turning back to the cart. You pushed it down the aisle between the shelves. You heard the bell over the door ring. You abandoned your cart and moved through the shelves to get to the front door. When you got close enough you knew they could hear you, though not see you yet, you spoke up.

“Welcome, Let me know if you need anything.” You said before turning the corner. Lovely Five was waiting by the door with a bouquet. He was still in his work suit, though his briefcase must still be in the car. He smiled when he saw you. You walked the rest of the way to the front door, greeting him by wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Whatcha doing here?” You asked, smiling at him. You hoped most of the patrons were in the back searching for a book. Five moved the flowers away you two so you wouldn't crush them. He leaned towards you, pecking your lips.

“I came to pick you up. Thought my car would be better than the bus.” Five said. You hummed. You sighed and pretended like you weren't giddy just being around him.

“Yeah, I guess. My shift ends in 15 so start reading.” You gestured towards the shelves. Five nodded and headed off for the nonfiction section. You finished shelving and were riding home in Five’s car in no time. He brought the flowers for you, so they rested in your lap on the ride back.

By the time you were pulling into the driveway, you had two hours to get ready. Five ran as fast he could to get your side of the car. You stared at him confused as you opened your door. Five slapped your hand away from the door, shooing your head back in the car. He shut your door before pulling it open again and holding his hand out to you. You glared at him before giving him your hand. Five walked with you into the house before you split up after taking your shoes off.

You headed off to the living room to replace the dying flowers in the reading nook. Five headed off to change out of his Work Suit. You both got ready, moving at your own pace. You shared a shower in which Five watched you with a loving smile as you danced ridiculously to your music. Also where Five remembered how much he missed you shampooing his hair.

Then you were pacing around the house as you got into the outfit you planned your head for the party. Five skittered past you when you were working on transferring everything you needed from your work bag to your ‘I'm going to hand this to Five once we get there so it's no longer my problem and I can play in the ball pit’ bag. He slid into the bathroom with his socked feet and when you heard the hair dryer turn on, you focused back on what you were doing.

You talked yourself out of taking a book. (Very hard) Then you were being rushed towards the door by Five as if he wasn't the one stuck in the bathroom for 45 minutes with the blow dryer going. You pulled your shoes on as you stumbled out the door. Five locked the door behind you as you both jogged down the steps.

“Do you think Grace will like her present?” You asked, now worried she might hate what was inside the wrapped box in your arms. Five snorted, pulling his car keys from his pocket.

“Well if she doesn’t, I know Diego will like it.” Five said, taking the box from your hands to set it in the trunk. You hummed. It did make you feel a little bit better. You thought about Diego gasping with joy louder than Grace and stealing the box from her hands. You doubted he would do that but it was fun to imagine his dramatics. You settled into the passenger side. Five handed you the aux cord as he pulled out of the driveway. You took it from him, imeditally plugging it into your phone and playing your music. Five bobbed his head along while you sang along. He’d even throw in a hand movement sometimes.

When you reached the party you were just barely 15 minutes late. Shocking. You took he box inside from the trunk, letting Five hold the doors open for you. Five lead you through the building by your elbow. You smiled when you saw familiar faces. Diego came over to you two first. He took the box out of your hands, staring down at it in confusion.

“What did you guys get her? An entire litter of puppies and a bike?” Diego joked. You waved him off.

“No that’s ridiculous, the bike is in a different box.” You joked making Diego grimace.

“Oh, Ha-ha,” Diego said sarcastically taking the box towards the already growing gift table. Five stood next to you, shoving his hands into his pockets. Your shoulders slumped.

“I thought it was funny.” You muttered. Five rubbed your upper arm, cooing.

“It was hilarious, I almost pissed my pants.” Five said, pecking your cheek. You gave him a small smile before patting his side. He slipped his arm around your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his waist, giving him a weird-sided hug. You pulled away, gripping onto his hand and leading him to the next family member you had to say hi to.

You approached the group of Luther, Klaus, Ben, and Claire. They were all facing each other, making a circle. You stood behind Luther.

“Excuse me, Sir. You can't be unattended without a child.” You said, raising your pitch so you sounded squeaky and, quite frankly, annoying. Luther turned his head around with a confused face. Once he spotted you, he smiled brightly and wrapped you in a hug. You dropped Five’s hand to hug him back.

“Oh it's so good to see you,” Luther said, pulling away from you. He moved out of the way, letting the rest of the group see you. Klaus cheered and clapped his hands. Claire immediately pulled you into a hug while Ben let out a groan. You stood back next to Luther.

“I’m here, too.” Five said, moving to squeeze into the circle between Luther and Klaus. Luther patted him on the shoulder. Klaus reached over and shooed Five away with his gloved hands without touching him. Five glared at Klaus. Luther pulled the conversation back to the center.

“So what are you two up to now?” Luther asked, looking between you and Five. You shrugged.

“Domestic things. Decorating our house, going to work, and trying new recipes on the weekends. It’s actually quite nice being a human and not in the center of an apocalypse.” you said. It actually felt really fucking nice that your biggest problem was what color to paint the bathroom. Five hummed.

“Right, so when are you two going to make me an uncle?” Klaus asked. You weren't entirely sure if he was being sarcastic or not. Five scoffed.

“Please, we’re too old for kids.” Five said, glaring at Klaus.

“Not to mention you're already an uncle.” You added. Klaus pouted at you two and hovered his hand over Claire's shoulder to simulate a pat. Five moved away from Luther's side and stood next to you instead.

“You know he's coming up on three years of sobriety?” you gasped at Claire. Five leaned forward as Luther smiled.

“Really? Klaus, that's amazing. I'm so proud of you. You should throw a party or something.” You said. Klaus shrugged. He shook his head.

“It's really no big deal,” Klaus muttered.

“Yes, it is. You should be proud of yourself Klaus, sobriety is hard work.” Five said. Five reached around the back of your arm and hugged your arm to his chest. Luther nodded.

“I'm very proud of you, I know that must've been a struggle,” Luther said. Klaus shrugged again. You hummed.

“Right well me and Claire are going to plan a celebration for your three years whether you like it or not.” You said. Klaus turned to Claire and shook his head no with a grimace. Claire started nodding back at him with an evil smile.

“Yes. Yep, uh-huh. It's happening.” Claire said. You tugged on Five's elbow.

“Right well, we have to go say hi to the others.” Five said, following after you as you walked away. You and Five split up. You went around to his siblings and had long talks with each of them over their current jobs, hobbies, and problems. Five went to find someone to complain to and find a beverage. The party flew by as you two went around to say hello to everyone. As soon as you were wrapping up your conversation with Viktor, it was present time.

Everyone circled the present table and more importantly Grace. Grace stared at the large pile of gifts and turned back to Diego and Lila.

“I don’t know which one to open first,” Grace said.

“Oo ours, Grace. Open the one from us.” You said. Five moved closer to you, holding your hand again. Grace nodded and pulled down the box covered in wrapping paper that Five picked out. Grace tore through the paper like it was butter and handed the scraps to Diego. The box was blank and held together with tape she could tear through. Grace pulled the box open and gasped when she could see inside.

She reached inside, pulled out two of the laser tag toy guns, and pointed them to the sky pulling the triggers over and over again. She laughed maniacally at the sky. Diego and Lila laughed. Grace spun around and pointed the guns at her parents, pretending to fire again.

“We got enough for the twins, Grace, and you guys so fun for the whole family!” Five shouted over the chaos. You smiled at Diego and Lila fighting back against Grace, turning her attention back to the presents. You leaned your head on Five’s shoulder. He hummed, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. Presents flew by after that, everyone else gave her lame presents and you’re definitely not biased in saying that at all.

“Okay kids, this is your last chance to play. The parents are going to clean up and then we’re going to leave so play now.” Diego shouted over the short heads of children running around him. You gasped and pulled yourself away from Five. You handed him your bag, which he swung over his shoulder. You leaned down and slipped your shoes off, handing them to Five as well. He kissed you goodbye as you sprinted off towards the ball pit.

You played with Grace in the ball pit as the lame adults were cleaning up. You pulled Grace up into the air. making her squeal before dropping her back into the ball pit.

Grace quite enjoyed playing with you and about thirty minutes later, you were out of breath and even Grace was tired. Five walked over to the ball pit, standing next to the edge. He held his hand out, helping you out of the pit. You pulled Grace over the edge. She ran off to Lila, who spun her around in a circle.

“Did you have fun in the ball pit?” Five asked. You knew he was probably being sarcastic. He leaned down towards the floor with your shoes. You leaned back against the ball pit wall as he gently lifted your leg to pull your shoe on.

“Yes! It was amazing, you should’ve joined us.” Five glanced up at you, shaking his head. He finished with the other shoe and stood up straight.

“Not really my style.” He muttered. You rolled your eyes. You rudely mimicked his voice. Five latched onto your hand and dragged you towards the door.

When you finally made it home, you both undressed into your pajamas in a speedy fashion. You faceplanted into your shared bed, groaning. You rubbed your arms around in the blankets.

“I missed you.” You whispered to the sheets. You felt Five settle on top of you, using you as a full-body pillow. It was a little difficult to breathe with a full-grown person on your back but you’d let it slide.

“I was only gone for three minutes. And you say I’m the clingy one.” Five muttered, pulling his head over your shoulder and kissing your cheek. You hummed.

“Still think you are.” FIve groanded at you. “Not that it’s bad, I love you being clingy. At least you’re not being a dickhead. Well, more than usual.” You said, leaning over to kiss the side of his mouth. Five tried to hide his smile, knocking his nose into the side of your neck.

A few moments went by where you and Five just sat together. You nudged him off your back. He slid off your back, laying next to you instead. He scooted closer, throwing his arm over your back. You pulled your arm over his side, squeezing him even closer. Five sighed, his weight sinking into you in relaxation. You were so glad it was a Friday because tomorrow you could wake up and stay in bed with Five for hours. You ran your fingers through his hair, making him squeeze you closer.

[dropitpunk]

dating and giving ken his first kiss headcanons

ken x gn!reader

cw: spoiler free, himbo ken, jealous ken, sweet and short.

he's not very sure what to do or how to approach this subject.

things have been getting serious between you two, more pda around other barbies and kens and weekly beach dates have been filling up your calendar.

ken thinks your face is just too pretty and that you're too sweet. he's always saying more to himself than to you, "i really love to be your boyfriend, i wish i could be around you all the time."

but he really, really wishes he could just... touch his lips with yours.

ken doesn't really understand why he feels that urge so strongly every time he's around you, even if other kens or even allan explain to him that couples just do that.

he's very jealous of other kens, and he certainly doesn't like others talking about you or your relationship.

his goal is to be the perfect boyfriend for you. he expends extra time trying to get the perfect tan and the perfect amount of gel on his hair. ken's day is only good when you compliment him.

ken is constantly trying to find excuses to be around you. you need help trying to find the perfect outfit for the day? he's there in a second. you don't need help for anything at all? well, he's also there.

talking about outfits, he's always going to match with you and he makes sure of it. he thinks about how pretty you are gonna look every night before he goes to sleep.

gets very mad if any of the kens is wearing the same color as you. he is your boyfriend and only him should look like he belongs in a couple with you.

ken is very supportive of you when you play any sport in the beach, he's cheering your name and holding signs with cheesy lines and big hearts.

ken even tries to teach you how to surf, even if he isn't really the best at it. you two just stay in the sand and hold hands, smiling and laughing with all the other barbies and kens.

"this rock just reminds me of your eyes. just so round and big. it's for you," he says with emotion in his voice, extending the palm that was holding it to you.

"thanks, ken." you smiled, grateful and content.

he smiled proudly and nodded, "you're welcome."

he also loves especially when you drive him around in barbieland cause he gets to hold your hand and just look at your beautiful focused eyes all the time.

"can i come to your house today? i'm thinking we could have a sleepover." ken asks as he crosses his fingers and hope for your answer.

you immediately agree and he cheers, sending a thumbs up to the other kens that were watching excitedly.

you're wearing matching pajamas and brushing his hair when he suddenly turns to you, eyes shining with clear uncertainty.

"can i ask you something important?" ken surprises you with the seriousness in his voice.

"of course, ken." you drop the brush and squeeze his biceps in encouragement.

he gulps, subconsciously leaning into you, "what would you do if i kissed you?"

your eyes widened and you thought about it only for a second.

"i would kiss you back," you said and smiled, face closer to his.

"oh, okay then." he closed his eyes and pursed his lips, waiting for you with a tilt of his head.

you mindlessly leaned in and softly touched your lips with his, feeling ken smile against your mouth. the contact was innocent, and ken kept caressing the inside of your wrist.

ken's days from that moment were only good if you kissed him in the morning.

a/n: this is so silly but i'm just a ryan gosling silly girl

[disneyprincemuke]

ღ this barbie’s teammate is a schumacher

notes: hello gays it is i, finally writing for barbie

she closes the car door and sighs with a small smile, looking at the building ahead of her. this will be her life until she decides otherwise. she shoves her car keys into her purse and watches curiously as another supercar pulls into the empty lot next to her.

is that who she thinks it is?

she takes a step towards her car, watching the car be parked into the slot flawlessly. she tilts her head when it comes to a stop, the driver's side opening to reveal its driver.

"oh!" she shrieks, running around the front of her car to approach the young man. "mick schumacher, right? i am such a big fan! i'm so excited to finally be working with you!"

the german takes a step back, overwhelmed by the sudden presence of the girl in pink approaching him. she has a pair of sunglasses resting on the top of her head, a fur coat on and a purse hanging off her elbow.

"oh, hi," mick smiles politely. he's not a mean person; he's just a little more introverted than the next guy. "i'm glad to be with honda this year. i'm looking forward to spending the year with you."

he was in deep thought before she came up to him. he wondered, as the way he's been doing for years, if the rumours that he'd been scouted for the second seat at the request of his boss's daughter. but who is he to complain; he's racing in f1 again. does it matter how he got back into it?

surely not.

but this girl that stands in front of him – could she be an intern? she looks fairly young, very enthusiastic, and a glimmer of hope in her eyes that he doesn't see from individuals his age often. perhaps a marketing intern.

"alright, well, i'll see you inside! i love the sweater, by the way!" she shrieks, waving at him with a wide smile. she waves at him as she walks away, cautiously crossing the parking lot as the rest of the cars for the day start to roll in. "and the car! you have to give me a tour someday!"

he waves back at her in confusion, only able to mutter a 'goodbye' to himself as she disappears into the big front doors of the building. he locks his car and follows her in the direction she left, ready to start his new year with a new team.

he spends the next 10 minutes navigating the new factory he'll be frequenting from now on. introducing himself to people, familiarising himself with the engineers he'll be working closely with, and other members of the team. it's a surprisingly bigger team than he had initially thought, so it takes him longer than he expected.

about 20 minutes introducing himself and trying to pin names with the new faces. then he ends up in a quiet office, shaking his leg in anticipation as he awaits his first face-to-face meeting with his new teammate and his boss.

he hears clicks of heels right by the door, prompting him to sit up a little straighter as he glances behind him quickly. he straightens his sweater, pulls his sleeves down and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. he can't screw himself over.

"i'm telling you, daddy, he's got the coolest car! i saw him in the parking lot earlier!" the door opens, revealing two figures with two familiar faces. which, shouldn't be the case, because this is the first time he's meeting his teammate.

"do you want one, honey?"

"no, that's so silly! i love my car!" she giggles, before abruptly stopping at the sight of his wide blue eyes staring at her in disbelief. "my car is perfectly fine! right, mick?"

mick blinks, swallowing the forming lump of guilt in his throat. he had no idea that the girl in the parking lot was going to be his teammate eventually.

oh god, and for him to assume that she's a marketing or pr intern? how humiliating. how would he feel if someone were to think that of his sister was a mere backend worker when she is something more?

"yes," he answers by default, not really remembering what she was asking him. he immediately pushes himself up to his feet and extends a hand to her first. "i'm sorry. i don't believe i got your name in the parking lot – i didn't know you were going to be my teammate. i'm so sorry."

"oh, don't worry about it. it happens a lot." she introduces herself before quickly walking away, running over to the empty seat next to him.

mick huffs, grinning at her father before he takes a seat. but the entire time, all he can think of is how embarrassed he is for misjudging her. "you don't care that i didn't take you for a driver at first?"

she looks off blankly, pressing her lips together before shaking her head. she turns to him again. "it's not like i told you," she grins. "anyway, do you like japanese curry? that's my favourite – i'll make you some when we meet again for pre-season."

taglist: @cashtons-wife @darleneslane @namgification @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @angsthology @renarots @elliegrey2803 @cha-hot @cosmoscoffeee @fanficweasley @sugarhoneylemons @aquangxl @omgsuperstarg @strawberryubin @lovecarsgoingvroom @mangotaitai @cherry-piee @ladyladybuggg @lethalvenus @gentlyweeps-world @spilled-coffee-cup @charizznorizz @wcnorris @storminacloud @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @leilanixx @daniellef89x @fezlvr @lavisenri @xcharlottemikaelsonx @ultraviolencesam @selsbackyard @ilove-tswizzle @riddle-me-im-sirius @kindestofkings

[writingsbychlo]

the slytherin boys + barbie

draco: pouts when you say you’ll go with pansy but also refuses to dress up as ken, or dress up in the slightest. would take you both to watch it and surprises you last minute on the day by wearing a pink t-shirt he borrowed from enzo. rolls his eyes when you get excited but is actually very happy with himself for it.

mattheo: would want to do a double feature with oppenheimer too. makes it a whole date scenario. buys all the snacks but makes you carry them in your purse. wants to dress up for oppenheimer (???) so he wears a suit and a fedora and tells you to wear a pink minidress for barbie. highkey the best dressed couple to go see the double feature, everyone comments on it and he never lets it go. (“see!! I told you it would be cool to dress up for both.”)

theo: would say he’s only dressing up if he can wear the shirtless ken in the fur coat outfit. buys the tickets and the snacks and helps you pick your outfit even if he’s still pouting because you won’t let him wear the mink coat. has the “I’m just Ken” song stuck in his head for a week after and sings it non-stop, drives everyone insane. talks in your ear all the way through but in a funny/cute way, with jokes. (I firmly believe he would do this with every movie though). orders a “I am Kenough” replica hoodie and wears it to smoke in the astronomy tower.

enzo: had a google alert set for ticket release day bought them with the intensity one would buy taylor swift concert tickets. does not care in the slightest for oppenheimer. would wear a full pink outfit with you and possibly even let you bleach his hair to be ken as long as you promised to dye it back after. (“look, cousin, now we match!”, draco refuses to speak to him for a whole week.)

tom: agrees to go and will wear one of your pink scrunchies on his wrist as a gesture of love, and it works. does, however, love your barbie outfit and makes sure to whisper some very dirty things to be sure you know. is stoically thrilled when you surprise him with oppenheimer tickets for the same day. holds your hand through barbie and kisses your knuckles occasionally. scoffs when you laugh at all the ‘typical men’ scenes (Zack Snyder cut of Justice League 💀). is deeply concerned when you play “What Was I Made For” on the way home after and immediately switches it to the “Barbie World” credit song

[artsninspo]

"CHEERS 🥂 "- RIO X READER

Summary: Rio's planned date night. Finally, you get a front row seat to who he is and a taste of what he's capable of. This one's steamy 🌶️

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Black Reader

Word-Count: 2.5K

Full Masterlist

RIO MASTERLIST

Read the first three parts of this Rio miniseries:

“Baby-Girl”

“Whisky, neat”

"Jealous Type"

Rio’s been applying pressure. A quality you enjoy in a man. He’s been a great communicator, texting and FaceTiming you when he’s free for the past four days. His cool demeanour is never ending. Neither are the lazy promises about what’s awaiting you the next time you see him in person. After that kiss you know it’ll be good, straight to the point, signed, sealed, delivered - sincerely Rio. In the past few days you’ve come to appreciate him. There were no forever promises snapping you out of the thrill of the here and now with him.

8:30 Sharp. Don’t play with me either baby girl. 

-Rio 

 The way he’s asserted himself leaves little room for anyone else to be entertained. He’s a handful. It’s the last message he’s sent you hours ago now. Clad in your robe you turn to face your closet. Your hair and make up is what it is already. Now onto the conundrum of what to wear? Did it really even matter? Swallowing you walk from the nudes to the colourful section of the closet. Pausing you shake your head with a finger to your lips turning around to the blacks. You don’t want to clash with him, you want to blend in to his low-key air. You don’t want to do too much at all. You skim over dresses better suited for wow factor and settle on one that will do the trick. Accessories are easy and you choose simple ones that flatter your dress. With a final turn you look yourself over. It gives calm cool and collected, simple, not too fussy. Checking your watch you see you have thirty minutes until Rio arrives. You ensure your necessities are in your purse before spraying perfume.

The thrumming in your chest is a pleasant reminder of wants to come. You don’t remember a time outside of adolescence where someone had this kind of effect on you. Only this time you aren’t sneaking out of the house, you’re ignoring your brothers warnings. Deciding against games or grand entrances you head down to the lobby to be on time and step out five minutes early to see Rio in the parking lot of your condo leaning against his G-Wagon giving his phone his undivided attention. You're halfway to him when he senses you. You smile first allowing his raised brows and caution to settle into a pleased smile.

“Who were we texting?” You ask making him chuckle. His eyes drink you in making their way up slowly before he looks displeased. His jaw settles and when his eyes meet yours again he looks angry.

“Don’t disrespect me with this simple shit. I know you have way better up there” he comments acutely. There’s little to be said about his choice of clothing, nor are you his personal barbie.

“Didn’t think it mattered when you’re just going to take it off me?” You shrug leaning against his car to match his nonchalance. His frustration fades quickly and Rio doesn’t know exactly what to do with you. He tries his best not to smile as you snicker. He gets the door helping you in. When he gets in he reaches in the glove box and takes out a jewelry bag handing it to you.

“Instead of flowers” he says. You open it to see a pretty tennis bracelet. It’s definitely a first.

“Much better than flowers, a consolation for your asshole remark just now” you tell him holding out your wrist. He takes the bracelet putting it on and you admire the shine.

“You not going to accuse me of buying you fake diamonds? No smart remark?” He asks pulling off.

“It’s no fun when you expect it” you shrug leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Thanks”

Rio turns reaching for your chin he takes it between his thumb and index finger to kiss you properly, claiming you as his for the moment. “You’re welcome” he says having given you two reasons to smile tonight..

Your dinner is on the water, just the two of you on a nice boat sailing around the cities skyline at night. Each of the dinner courses are delicious and conversation with Rio is easy so long as the conversations float over the personal. He keeps his guard up setting a clear boundary you're comfortable respecting. He gives you his jacket when you shiver playing the role of a gentleman well. You feel none of the first date jitters or dread, it’s like you’ve known Rio for some time. He’s meticulous in having things perfect for you. You don’t get the sense he’s showing off but more like he’s a stickler for order and satisfaction which bodes well for you later. Away from the dinner table and rnow outside on the deck you pour two shots of tequila.

“Truth or drink?” You say raising the glass and taking a shot for good measure. Rio throws one back nodding - ready for whatever. He opens the bottle pouring out another two shots.

“When’s the last time a man made you cum?” He asks being the forward asshole he is.

“Awhile” you respond evasively.

“A few months or a few years?” He asks.

“Months, now I get two questions” you tell him.

“Go on baby-girl” he says like he’s talking you through it leaving you to blush because he is hell.

“Why doesn’t my brother like you?” you ask and he grimaces; it’s a surprise. In Rio’s mind there are too many reasons to name. Reasons that’ll have you off the boat and ironing his calls.

“That’s between us, nothing to do with you” he responds taking a sip.

“If the roles were reversed would you want your sister sitting where I am?” You ask and Rio smiles, you know the answer before it leaves his lips.

“No” he confirms. “What to you like most about me?” Rio asks and it’s a surprise to you. His confidence makes the question seem a little out of place. Racking through your brain you try to narrow it down. There are more physically attractive guys, taller guys, richer guys, better dressed guys… Losing yourself in your thoughts you look back at him looking him over.

“I don’t know, that you have yourself together and you’re not afraid to put in work.” you shrug surprising him.

“What do you do for fun, hobby wise?” You ask.

“You don’t want to know what I like about you?” Rio asks.

“No” you tell him outright and he laughs.

“Boxing, helps me put the stress away” he responds and you feel the boats engines stop. Turning you realize you’re back at the dock and turn to find Rio watching you intently.

“Don’t kill the fun now by falling in love” you tease getting your bag.

“You’d fall first baby-girl” he taunts smoothly.

“Not likely” you comment heading off of the boat.

“Not likely?” he chuckles like it’s a first. “Keep playing with me.”

“Or what? I’ll probably like whatever punishment you can think of,” you shrug being forward turning back you see a blush on his cheeks as he smiles. You stop walking to let him catch up and find him chuckling a little like he’s broken character.

“Most likely, if I’m nice” Rio says into your ear as he holds you from behind. Chuckling you allow him to lead the way forward to his car. His cologne is perfect, the entire night has been perfect.

“Don’t call me unless you’re being nice” you respond.

“Mhm?” Rio raises a brow as he gets in.

“I thought you might like me being mean?”

“No, I don’t intend to underestimate what that means. Not my kind of surprise” you shrug looking over at him and his smile turns into contemplation. There you were right again. He’d passed curiosity, the cat and mouse was over and now he was considering your words a valid warning. Having a son and family were enough of a liability in his work. Things with you could get complicated especially with his involvement with Ruby and Stan. The pussy will be good; that Rio is for certain but now’s not the time he needs to be spending wide open chasing his next hit or the next thrill. He already knows you don’t know how to behave, taming you won’t be as fun as coming in and shutting shit down every time. For now there was a very clear scheduling conflict as well as ethical concerns.

Besides, Rio can’t quite decide your type of crazy yet. One round won’t suffice and after a few … would you slash his tires for his involvement with Stan and Ruby? Would you ignore him or worse? He could see the promise of mutually assured devastation in your eyes should you have to go head to head.

“Second thoughts, wow. Didn’t think Mr. Christopher would bitch out first” you taunt.

Fuck it

Rio mutters leaning over to kiss you. It’s not what you expect. The switch from contemplative to sensual heats your body in an instant. Unbridled passion, no time for logic.

Its on.

You can feel the seat going back and steady Rio as he maneuvers the seat flat not letting up. His tongue spelling promise of his other talents. Better than in the bathroom. You feel your body relaxing into it, the sensations rushing to your core as it readies itself in anticipation of pleasure. His hands run featherlight touches up your legs before lifting them to wrap around his torso.

It’s a first, sex in a car.

The thought of it flushes you sending goosebumps to cover your flesh. You feel pliable under his touch as he takes the lead. “Quiet now huh?” His voice is low as he peppers kisses on your neck. Before you can speak you feel him pressing into you and a moan of pleasure is your response. “Doesn’t feel like you’re the whore you pretend to be” he whispers enjoying the grip on his fingers.

“Shut up” you moan before your eyes close he comes in for another kiss that is messier an more frenzied. The nights foreplay has come to an end. Honestly there had been other plans but there was no way either of you were doing anything other than getting what you came for. His size is impressive and leaves you reeling to catch your breath as he uses technique that tells he’s no novice. He hits all of the right spots leaving you a pillow princess as he gives and takes until you're both sated and breathing hard. He slides off the condom leaning back and you smile seeing the fogged glasses until flashing lights snap you out of the fantasy. A knock Rio’s glass startles the both of you as a figure peers in. Instinct makes Rio shield your indisposed body from view. It’s a frenzied rush to cover yourself and Rio manages to put his dick away.

The cop demands you to get out of the car and you both do. Rio makes no effort to hurry, his aura reeks disgust and impatience. So much so that there’s no charming your way out of a seriously tacky potential charge. You rage silently as you’re cuffed and placed in the back of the cop car with Christopher.

“Bonnie and Clyde huh?” Rio whispers earning him an elbow. Rio chuckles not understanding the gravity the situation or your embarrassment.  “Relax, love I have a few more rounds in me” he continues ready for more as you seethe by his side. The precinct is lit in tacky fluorescent lighting that is jarring on the eyes after a night of warm romantic hues. All eyes are on you and so is the chatter. Your stomach falls in your ass the moment you realize Stan was once one of them.

“Would you like your phone call or do we head outback and you take care of me like you did him?” A portly cop propositions.

“Fuck did you just say?” Rio snaps finished with his call. Cops pop their heads up and the phone rings.

“Buddy don’t try to look tough for the girl” the pig says balling his fists.

“Stop!” A female cop says popping her head up holding a phone. “Stop now and let them go” she demands and there is some shuffling as the phone is passed around. Rio waits impatiently seemingly bored by the process until the cuffs are removed from his wrists and then your’s. The look he gives the dirty cop makes you nervous for the mans well being as he takes your hand walking you out. You stop now feeling the gravity of it. A man who can fuck like him and stay that cool under pressure is dangerous. A man cops tread lightly with is something else entirely. The big leagues, very major. Looking up at him you curse yourself knowing the date and any romance between you is done. For the first time your brothers protective instinct really was trying to shield you from serious trouble. The part of your brain that loves a thrill is ready to fight against it but you stand firm. Instead of making a scene you re enter the car once the two of you are returned to the marina with profuse apologies. Reveries of how he felt wash over you, the feeling of being kissed and the fresh memories dance around your mind. You don’t have to ask - Rio drives you home and parks in your parking lot.

This time the silence between you both is thick once the engine shuts off. Its like all the progress and familiarity has been washed away in spite of you still being able to feel the effects of him on your body.

“I’m sorry, I planned to take you to my place. Everything will be wiped your record and reputation will be fine” he says speaking first. Everything about him screamed he wasn’t fond of apologies. Turning you see his eyes are sincere and you swallow letting your seatbelt loose.

“Rio...”

“Don’t say it” he smiles looking down into his hands. “Don’t say it baby girl” he sighs holding your gaze. You want to invite him up and ride him till your frustration fades. You want rounds two three and four if your bodies can take it but for once your head is resigned against the thrill.

“I had fun” you admit earning a disappointed nod from Rio. He gets out of his car with you and heads into the trunk and walks towards you with a large bottle of Ace of Spades champagne.

“Cheers” he says bidding you goodbye with Champagne what was supposed to kick off the fun in his hand. Looking up at him as the gold bottle sparkles along with the newly gifted bracelet in the light you look at the forbidden fruits contemplating a few more rounds or if you plan to kick the habit cold turkey.

“Cheers” you respond with a smile.

_________

Author's Note: Thank you for all your support and patience on this series. It means more than you know. I love writing for character I feel like we should have got more of. Hope you enjoyed, leave a comment, like and reblog to let me know 💖

[kithtaehyung]

u suck !! (m) (3tan special) | myg

3tanoween special: u suck !! pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball |  stay |  sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume. note: BOO!! :))) happy halloween and i love you all so so much. if you haven't read three tangerines or the rest of the series yet, i highly recommend diving into that first! this would make a whole lot more sense lol note 2: this is gonna be heavily unedited bc i literally started it on tues🥹 and consider this a pocket universe/side story for now until i mention anything otherwise :)) warnings: [explicit warnings under the cut] language, house party, alcohol/drug mentions, vampires are present but there’s a different type of sucking going on HEYO!!, tight spaces, yoongiiiiii🥺🥺🥺, one (1) uncomfy hug, jimin is a warning, yoongi is a bigger warning, kissing is a staple warning atp, yoongi in black leather and chains ahahahahah, tension, angst bc it’s me🤪, you have to be quiet :)), but it’s so hard :))), yoongi hands🥴, so many doll mentions, cus this reader is a barbie!!!, this yoongi is out of control and i’m not stopping him 🤷, ermmmmmm yoongi’s voice🧍‍♀️this is all i can say🧍‍♀️, ...VMIN??? drop date: oct. 28th, 2023, 12:17am est  word count: 11.5k🫣

explicit warnings: choking, head/hair tugging, min yoongi king of consent wbk, fingering, breath play, oral (m rec), ass play, chains lmfaooo, tears, face fucking, back shots, cum swallowing, breast play, protective sex, …public sex🫣, nasty dirty talk, he’s rude and we love it and he knows that we love it😩

—

—

“Oh, did you get the cookies?” 

“Yeah, they’re already in the back,” you huff out as you rush around the car. After getting in and catching your purse strap on your very pink heel, you explain while slipping it free, “And don’t worry, I made un-iced ones for you.” 

Your brother sighs in relief, as if you’ve never done that for him before. “Thank god.” As he backs out of the driveway, he gives your costume another glance. “That damn movie. I feel like I’m gonna see three hundred of y’all tonight.” 

“Barbie was great and you know it.” 

“Whatever. Aren’t you gonna be cold later?” 

“I got this.” 

Steering the wheel, he sighs, “Okay.. You’re gonna regret that.” 

“Yeah, probably.” 

Fixing your tee and smoothing out your skirt, you make a mental note that he didn’t comment the usual things about your costume this time. Whether it’s because you grilled him about the Dalo incident or not, you’re pleasantly surprised. 

The only thing he complained about was that couldn’t dress how he wanted in peace. 

“You still could’ve been Ken, you know,” you think out loud. “All you had to do was throw fur over that jersey.” 

“Nah, the coat I got is expensive as fuck.” 

“So is the jersey?”

“I have two of these.”

“…I will never understand you.”

The drive to Jimin’s isn’t too far, and the streets are already occupied with people in various characters. When you pass by a Ghostface costume with pink heels and a sign that says ‘This Barbie has a knife!,’ both you and your brother give it an approving laugh. 

If the atmosphere in the neighborhood was buzzing, it’s Jimin’s cul-de-sac that bursts with the biggest Halloween charm. 

Every yard around the semi-circle is chock full of decorations, from the ghoulish to the whimsical. Orange and purple lights scale whole houses, trees are covered in ghosts, and inflatable spiders and kittens rest on every surface you can see. Glee spreads throughout the whole setting as trick-or-treaters of all ages stop along the sidewalks, gawking at the views and running up to doors to procure sweets. 

It’s magical. 

But you can’t enjoy it at the moment because your brother has to park way down the main street. Which means you’re subjected to his teasing as you make the trek in enormous heels. 

Ugh. 

At least he’s carrying everything. 

“Damn, look at that house,” you point, adjusting your purse and almost teetering over.  

“That’s a shit ton of cobwebs.” 

“The lights are so nice, though.” 

“Uh huh.” 

After forever, you finally get to Jimin’s house, going through the open garage and already greeting the yells and hugs upon arrival. Some people are dressed up and some are in their regular clothes, but everyone seems chipper. 

And it’s even louder inside the house. All of you have to practically yell to hear each other. 

“Hey! You made it!” 

Damn, Jimin looks good as a vampire. 

As your brother says hi, you try super hard to not stare at his silver hair, avoiding his bare chest under that ruffled white shirt entirely. “Hey, Chim! You’re all decked out, holy shit.” 

“Ah, thank you! We both are. The lady at the Halloween place gave us a discount.”

“For what?” 

“Uhh, being cute? What else?” 

Adorable. If he went with Taehyung to get costumes, you wonder how extravagant your best friend looks. 

When you laugh, Jimin stops to look at you with his jaw dropped. “Wow, look at you, Barbie!” Turning to your brother, he teases, “You let this happen?” 

“I will throw you against the wall right now, fang boy,” he responds with no hesitation, which pulls a high cackle.

“No fighting tonight, please,” you drone, smiling while giving the handsome vampire a side hug. “Everything looks so good!” 

“Yeah? Spent all day decorating.” 

“Well, it shows.” Noting how Jimin always has great cologne, you take the trays from your brother while asking, “Where do you want these?” 

“Ah, in the kitchen! Here,” he offers, sliding them onto his puffy sleeves. “Follow me. You can see what we have.” 

His cloak brushes both your legs as you’re led into the big area, and your eyes feast on the assortment of themed desserts and drinks. 

Whoa. There’s even a bubbling pot of red punch? Jimin really has gone all out this year. 

Maybe Tae has something to do with this uptick in ambition. 

“Yoongi! You, too?” 

Huh? Him, too? 

“Yeah, it’s fucking hot.” 

Hot? What could possibly be—

Oh. 

Fucking.

Hell. 

It’s your fault for assuming it was Tae that Jimin went to the store with. It’s your fault for not even entertaining the possibility that Yoongi would dress up. 

And it’s all your fault for not being able to process what’s happening because even your own brother teases you when you cannot form words. 

You can’t help it. There’s literally no way. 

Because seeing this man up close, decked out head to toe in shiny black leather and hair properly tousled as if he just had wicked sex? 

How the fuck are you supposed to react! 

“I think you broke a wire in there somewhere,” Jimin comments through puffs of giggles, finally snapping you out of your inappropriately timed trance. “Ah, there she is!” 

Recover. Holy shit, you gotta recover.

“I just—” You gesture to the demon with your hands. “I didn’t think you’d ever dress up.” 

And Yoongi has the audacity to respond with, 

“Why?” 

“I mean. I thought you were..” Flailing for anything, you blurt, “I dunno, boring?” 

Amusement shoots out of both your brother and Jimin, carving a sickly upward curve into Yoongi’s face. When he looks away to poke his cheek, you know something’s coming.

But when he glances back and drags his eyes from your feet to your awaiting face, you're completely unprepared when he drawls, 

“And you dressed basic for what?” 

Disbelief slams your jaw straight into the ground, your little audience bent back with laughs so loud that some people around your group glance over. 

Oh, you wanna launch yourself at him so fucking bad. Wipe that stupid, smug taunt off his face. 

But there are other ways to come out victorious. And you can’t exactly do anything with your sibling so close. 

“Alright. Okay,” you hum, nodding and thinking of a thousand ways to incite revenge in private. “I’ll remember that.” 

“Won’t help you, doll.” 

Shit, did he really just call you that out loud?

Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it he’s just saying that in the open because you’re a Barbie. “Whatever, Neo.” 

Yoongi quickly smiles in confusion. “Neo? I’m a vampire!” 

“Oh, yeah, cus you suck.” 

Your brother and Jimin are full on titillated now. While one blows out air, the other plants a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder while creasing over from glee. 

And you spot your friends arriving, which turns into perfect timing for you to slowly retreat with a middle finger and a lip bite. “Bye, suckas!” 

Your brother can only shake his head before turning to grab a cup, and you barely—just barely—catch the fiendish spark in Yoongi’s eyes as he bites his grin right back. 

You can’t believe you got through that whole interaction so smoothly. 

Because every time you’ve caught peeks of Yoongi since then, your body’s reaction is downright visceral. Borderline feral.

And it reaches its peak when you get a text from the devil himself.  

Yoongi [10:02pm]: Fuck 

Shit, you can’t do this. 

If you start texting now, too? There’s no way you’re gonna be able to resist him. 

But the two drinks in your system are very smooth talkers, and you’re convinced immediately. 

You [10:02pm]: what🥺 

“Let’s go!” Yuri yells, dragging you along. 

“Where’re we going?” 

“Garage. Table’s about to be open.” 

From the backyard, it takes a minute for you all to weave through the people inside to get to the designated card game area. So you don’t get to read Yoongi’s text until you’re waiting for a table to clear. 

Yoongi [10:04pm]: You know exactly what 

You [10:04pm]: 🤪🖕

Yoongi [10:04pm]: I better not find you alone 

Fuck, you want that. Frankly, there’s literally nothing you want more right now. 

It’s been way too long since you’ve seen each other, and even more since you’ve gotten to do anything that leaves you breathless. 

So being this deprived and witnessing him in that costume? Yoongi’s the vampire but you’re the one that wants to suck the soul out of him. 

You [10:07pm]: maybe i want that 

It’s official. You can’t hold back your replies tonight even if you try. 

Between drinking and a haze of thoughts solely connected to him, you find yourself getting more and more needy. 

Yoongi [10:07pm]: You don’t 

You [10:08pm]: but shyyy 

You [10:08pm]: whyyy* 

This is bad. 

Why can’t he be super annoying instead—

Yoongi [10:10pm]: 🤷‍♂️ 

Well. 

You [10:10pm]: 😐 

Yoongi [10:10pm]: Lmaooo 

Taehyung chuckles next to you, and you immediately lock your phone while giving him a slight nudge. “Shut up…” 

“I will once you stop sexting.” 

“We are not!” 

“Uh huh. And I’m not wearing a suit.” 

Scoffing, you give him a once-over, wondering why everyone except for Yoongi decided to forego a goddamn shirt today. “What are you supposed to even be?” 

“A model.” 

He’s full of shit. “You just wanted to wear this outfit, huh.” 

“Yup.” 

Small huffs leave you both as you wait just a bit longer, and you let the night air and music lift your spirits until you get another text. 

Yoongi [10:13pm]: You look great, doll 

Why does he have to say all the right things?

You truly don’t know how you ended up here. To be able to receive compliments like this from him of all people? It’s a wonder this whole thing isn’t just one big dream. 

Fueled by the excitement and comfort only October can bring, you lean into this conversation and type a genuine reply. 

You [10:13pm]: so do you baby 

You [10:13pm]: i better not find you alone either 

Wait. 

Have you ever been that bold? 

Seems like tonight is making you a bit scary, too. 

Yoongi [10:14pm]: 👀 

And rude. 

You [10:14pm]: 😛😛😛

“Get off your phone, babe! Enjoy the night!” 

“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, belatedly dropping your device in your purse and following everyone to scraping chairs and rustling clothes. 

The air feels even chillier at the table, and you’re thankful for the warm metal seat this time when your bare skin makes contact. Peering out of the garage, you can see that the night is still active as ever with more and more people walking around. 

Maybe poker and cool autumn weather will quell the heat swirling in your core. 

Nope. 

Even your card game can’t distract you from what happened. You still have the whole thing running through your mind, replaying Yoongi’s expressions and feeling more and more want build between your legs. 

Under a skirt that's completely the wrong length for how it feels outside.

But you try your best to focus on having fun with all of them, especially since Dom and Tae keep eyeing each other and smirking at you whenever you try to ask what’s up. 

“You know what’s up.” 

“Dom!” 

“Don’t act like we can’t see it.” 

Hiding your smile with a cup, you break, “What!” 

“Babe, you are thinking hard about something,” Dominique points out as she swishes her long white locks—a perfect Storm on your left. As she lays out cards, another comment flies out, “And I don’t like that smile you got going on.” 

“Yeah, what’s that all about!” Yuri joins in, and you pout at her high pigtails while she stares at her hand, chucking her cards in the center. 

Then Reia folds, too, her pretty nails extending the sleeves of her ninja getup so well. “Probably thinking about her boyfriend.” 

“He’s not my—”

Four pairs of eyes instantly give you a look to just give it up already, and you flounder as they all tease you in various ways. 

“Is he coming?” 

“Yeah, are we finally gonna meet him?”

“Yeah, babe,” Tae repeats, resting his smug cheek on a palm. “Are we gonna meet him?” 

Glaring, you respond to the pair of cards in your hand. “Not yet,” you answer honestly. “Call.” 

It’s you against Taehyung, and Dom flips another card in the center. 

“Hold on,” he stops. Turning to you, he bets, “If I win, we get a name.” 

What? 

Gawking, you try to send him every single signal in the universe telling him to take that back. The chills you get compound with the dropping temperatures, and you suddenly can’t move your fingers.

Even Dom is shocked trying to play fair. “Hey, we don’t have to force them.” 

But Yuri and Reia are already all for it, siding with Tae and getting excited for the face-off. 

Shit, shit, shit. Your cards are good, but you never fucking know with your opponent. Someone even more mysterious than Min Yoongi. 

Fuck it. “Fine,” you blurt, watching Tae’s eyes fully enlarge in surprise. 

Oh, shit, did he not expect you to call his bluff? 

Fuck, what if his hand is better! 

Sweating while frozen all over, you wait for Dom to flip the final card. 

Damn, damn, damn. You can just make up a name, right? You can just brush it off with a pseud and call it a night. 

But you know they’d be able to tell you’re lying. So you have to win this, you have to win…

That last card may have just saved your ass.

You and Taehyung give each other a look, and you can’t tell if he wants to beat you or is sad that he thinks he did. Either way, he looks stricken.

“Straight,” he claims, laying down his cards while Yuri and Reia cheer. 

And you breathe, checking your hand one more time before regarding him again. 

With a flourish, you reveal your cards with a boisterous, “Full house, bitches!” 

Loud groans mix with Dom’s close-call hiss of an exhale, and all the slaps on the table get the attention of everyone in the garage. 

And outside of it. 

While you’re raking in everyone’s chips, you glance over to see Jimin and Yoongi looking in from the sidewalk, some of their friends also wondering what the hell happened. 

At this, you get so shy that you don’t even acknowledge them, instead turning right back to the table and sitting down with your winnings. 

When Dom gives you a look, she asks, “You good?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you stumble, rubbing the cold from your arms. “Let’s keep going.” 

After another shuffle and deal of cards, you finally gain the courage to look out into the driveway. 

Only to see them talking amongst their group again. 

This is agonizing. 

Why the fuck did Yoongi have to dress up? It’s doing things to your insides that you never would’ve guessed, and watching him be all casual while looking like sin incarnate isn’t helping. 

Maybe it’s the way his hair is still so ruffled, or the way his shoulders stand so broad—which never fails to destroy you.

Or maybe it’s the way some people give him the biggest heart eyes and others rope him into pictures, knowing that you’re the one that he just texted. 

Your next hand is quick to be tossed on the table, which gives you a chance to glance again. 

Of course, the thought that some people here are probably ones Yoongi’s been with before awakens darker parts of you. 

Like that girl that just caressed his arm. 

But they aren’t as powerful as before, because you’ve been reassured a thousand times over. 

He’s not like that anymore. 

But as he’s pulled in for a picture with some other Barbie’s, you’re promptly reminded that he’s still not outwardly taken, either. 

Which coaxes another, sadder side of you to come out of hiding, casting a shadow over a fun Halloween night. 

How much longer can you take being the one in the dark? 

Screw waiting to find Yoongi alone.

You’d rather be standing together. 

Activities bustle about the house while the neighborhood is very much still alive.

Some kids do brave Jimin’s scary yard and, thanks to his foresight, anyone who’s near the open doorway simply tells them to grab as much candy as they want from huge plastic cauldrons—while hiding any drinkware they might be holding. 

The only reason you know any of this is because you found yourself near his front door with your friends, and two tiny witches walk up to the porch with full buckets. 

You and Tae are the ones to greet them, with him beaming a hi and you following up with a question,  

“What’s your favorite candy?”

“Chocolate!”

“I like gummi bears.”

Ah, that might be a no-go for the second one.

Leaning forward, you rummage through one of the plastic bins. “Ooh, I know we have plenty of chocolate, but.. I don’t know if we have gummi bears out here. Tae, can you check inside?”

“Yeah! One sec.”

As he leaves, you keep searching while Reia asks them another question,

“Can we know what spells you ladies are learning?” 

One of them doesn’t respond, but the other in a frilly dress fires out an answer, 

“I’m learning how to turn boys into cats!” 

Excellent. Wide-eyed, you wholeheartedly support their decision. “That’s the best spell to learn. Can I see?” 

“Yeah!” 

Just as timing has it, Taehyung is far gone. 

But a wonderful replacement shows up in Jimin and Yoongi as they're spotted walking across the yard, and you quickly call them over. It seems they’re joined at the hip tonight. 

“What’s up!”

“Come here real quick!”

When they oblige, you check with the parents on the sidewalk and see if you’re taking too long. 

When they give you a thumbs-up, you turn back to the kids, “Alright, let’s see it!”

“Okay!”

Yoongi gives you a look, and you grin. “She’s learning a new spell.” 

As soon as the girl waves her wand, she shouts, “Turn into a cat!” 

Straightforward. Succinct. Admirable.

Jimin immediately lets out a gasp and holds paw hands in front of his face, which makes the little witch giggle like hell. 

But what Yoongi does makes everyone react, and your jaw unhinges while something wildly potent rushes through your stomach. 

The man puts fingers on his head in the shape of cat ears—something you didn’t even know he knew how to do—and in the plainest voice, lets out a low, 

“Meow.” 

Oh. God.

Not only does Jimin burst at the seams, but you, your friends, the little girl, and her quiet companion all start laughing. 

And Yoongi’s wide grin at the child almost brings tears to your eyes. 

“That’s not a cat!” she corrects while smiling, and he’s immediately affronted. 

“Yes, huh!” 

“No!” 

“Look! I have ears!” 

“No! You sound like a human!” 

“You need to keep practicing that spell then!” 

Delighted, the little girls burst into laughter again. 

Who is this man? You feel like you know more about him than you ever hoped to, and yet… Yoongi’s still a mystery. 

One beautiful, scary, amazing mystery that you will never get tired of discovering piece by piece. 

When your thoughts dissipate, you notice that he’s now aiming expectant eyes your way, and your heart beats extra extra loud. 

But quickly, you understand. Raising your arms above your head, you do the same ear-shape with your fingers, beaming when he looks satisfied and feeling full when the little ones try it, too. 

“We’re all cats now!” you exclaim, and they shout in agreement before running down the sidewalk to continue their adventure. 

You have no idea what just happened. Zero clue. 

But what you do know? 

You’re not letting that go. There’s no way Yoongi’s escaping that interaction and you’re gonna hang it over his silly old head forever. 

“I didn’t find gummi bears but we have fruit snacks—oh, they left?”

Swiveling, you regard Tae with shock. “Wait, you really looked that whole time?”

“Ah.. Yeah. Felt bad cus, umm. All the gummies in there are definitely not for kids.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” Chuckling, you give the other two boys a grateful look. “I think they left pretty happy anyway.” 

There’s one other thing you know for sure. 

Seeing how Yoongi can be with children? 

Any sanity you had left to give has been absolutely, positively vanquished.

Jimin’s whole cul-de-sac seems to always throw parties that people love to stay at. 

An hour later, it’s still packed around the semi-circle of houses, and even you are delightfully buzzed and joining in some of the action. 

But even though the alcohol is helping, you are still freezing. 

Of course, there’s no way you’re letting your brother get another told-you-so in his bucket, so you endure the cold as you watch him and Shiv challenge Yoongi and Jungkook in beer pong. 

To no one’s surprise, the youngest one has also chosen to not wear anything under his white suit. With clattering teeth, you refuse to believe he’s not shivering under that thing, too.

“Y’all took so long to win that one,” your brother shit talks early. “You ready?” 

Kook’s brows pinch as he whines. “I thought he was good at this!” 

“I am!” 

As Yoongi fires off excuses to an unconvinced Jeon, you and a couple people laugh at their spat. But it’s when he claims that he’s just rusty that your sibling interjects, 

“Oh, bullshit, Yoong’s lying! I do all the work when we duo!” 

Ah. There they go. Eyes and mouths adorably creased to hell, “The fuck you don’t!” 

“Oh, yeah? You don’t do shit!” 

“Me? What the fuck happened last time!” 

Gosh, there’s a lot of bodies walking through the backyard right now. You have to shift around as they pass your area, and what the fuck did someone brush your ass? 

You jut your head sideways to see if anyone looks guilty, but the whole crowd just keeps moving. 

Well. It wasn’t a blatant slap or anything. You definitely would’ve thrown hands if that was the case. 

Their argument comes back into focus as you shiver. 

“When?”

“At Hobi’s?”

“Okay, wait, that doesn’t count.” 

“It does—!” 

Your brother’s unannounced shot drills into the cup right in front of Yoongi’s crotch, and everyone around the table stops on a dime. 

“Can we play now?” he asks, tilting his head. “It won’t take long.” 

Shiv adjusts the red cap on his head, and it’s hilarious seeing him so serious in a full pokemon trainer costume. Especially when he shrugs at your opponents while they pin him with annoyance. 

If you weren’t freezing, you would’ve laughed a little more. Your arms are fully caging you in at this point, and it’s hard to even rub your legs together. 

More people walk through the area, and you have to shuffle backwards again to make room as they pass by. 

“You look so good, Barbie!” one of the girls praises, and you compliment her matching aesthetic just as genuinely.

Your brother was right yet again. 

There are plenty of pink and white outfits walking around. 

Unfortunately, this combo that you decided on pulls eyes the whole night, all of which you are choosing to ignore. 

There’s only one person you dressed up for today. Everyone else can take a damn hike. 

Maybe this is why you’ve gravitated towards your brother and his friends instead of wandering more. Taehyung and the girls went back to playing cards, but you wanted to watch this game despite going solo. 

Oh, well. There’s a whole group of you watching and you’re getting a little warmth from body heat now. 

“Course it won’t take long.” Yoongi rubs a wrist, and you puff out air when he gives Shiv flack. “Not with him on your team.” 

“Hey!” 

The game commences, and everyone’s missing cups by the slightest mistakes. But one by one, they get set aside as shots finally start falling for Shiv and your brother, and pretty soon they’re down to the last one while Yoongi and Jungkook have a bunch. 

Frankly, you don’t exactly remember how it all went down. Because all you can think about is how attractive Yoongi looks when he competes.

And watching him dip soaking fingers in water cups isn’t helping your mental in the slightest.

Fucking hell, you didn’t think this through. The price of finally getting to be around him? You can’t do much else except watch.  

And your self-control has never been tested so egregiously in your life. 

“Any last words?” your brother asks, his partner rolling an airy ball in his fingers. 

And Yoongi takes a deliberate sip of his liquor before responding with a drone, “Yeah, hurry up.” 

Smiling, you feel pity for the vampire. Because he’s about to lose whether Shiv makes this or not—which he in fact sinks with no issue. 

Your brother only shrugs as people yell around the table, and you taunt Yoongi with your eyes as he turns to poke his cheek, fishing out the shot with long fingers. 

Still a goddamn menace. 

“I thought you were good at basketball,” Jungkook complains in a huff, roping his attention. 

“I am.” 

“So do something!” 

“Am I holding a basketball?” 

Jeon groans, but Yoongi quickly eyes Shiv with all the confidence in the world as he switches his attitude with a resigned, 

“Fine.” 

And he makes a quick dagger shot, too. 

All of you react as mister basketball holds lazy arms out, and your sibling calms the crowd down with swipes. “Fluke! Nah, hey, that was a fluke!” 

“Don’t listen to him.” 

“Okay then, do it again, bitch.” Immediately, your brother hits a fast one into the same last cup, and people erupt again while Yoongi and Jungkook regard the solo with dread. 

Your laugh seems to reach both their ears, because they both look at you with different faces, 

“Whose side are you on!” 

“You got something to say?” 

“I’m not on anyone’s side,” you clarify with a smile. “You all suck.” 

While Yoongi cocks a brow, your sibling calls you out with a knowing laugh, “You wanna shoot for them?” 

“No, I’ll make it.” 

He chortles again, and you get the strangest look from his best friend—someone that doesn’t know you’ve had plenty of experience doing this with your brother when you were both bored at home. 

Is that pride? Curiosity? An intriguing mix of both? 

Whatever it is, you feel wings flutter about your stomach and fight to keep your emotions internalized.

“Just lose already,” your sibling taunts. “Then we can do that thing Jimin’s talking so much shit about.” 

“The haunted house?” 

“Yeah, that.” 

After both guys fail to make a comeback, you watch your brother and Shiv gloat as much as they possibly can. 

And you’re about to move forward when another group of people blocks your way, damn near tripping as you step back. 

While you’re waiting, a guy spots you and throws his arms up in recognition. “Hey! What’s up, how’ve you been!” 

Huh. 

Who is this man? Are you supposed to know him? 

“Hi!” you call back, deciding to stay polite more than anything else. 

Truly, you kinda feel bad because you have no idea who this is oh he’s going in for a hug. Okay. Strange but that’s whatever okay whoa it’s a full hug. Ah, he’s really squeezing you. Alright. Interesting. 

As he lets go, you try to make small talk and ask how he’s doing. Because you feel terrible for not… remembering him...

He’s already walking away. 

And you feel the most uncomfortable you’ve felt in months. 

Umm.

What the fuck was that? Did he know you or not? 

…Did he just want a hug to feel your tits?

Motherfucker.

Your eyes find Yoongi as soon as you feel an ick, now exceedingly cold both inside and out. All this time, you’ve avoided all the stares and only smiled while politely leaving others behind. 

So to feel that disrespected just because you were considerate makes you want to hurl.  

But when Yoongi moves to strip off his coat, you freeze for another reason. 

Because he’s watching that dude leave. 

Looking pissed. 

Something deep inside of you rumbles to life, and you can’t explain what it feels like wait what’s he doing now? Why’s he walking right towards you why is he—

He’s not—

What is he doing?

He’s not gonna—not in—not in front of everyone, right? Not in front of your brother, right? 

Right?

…This is bold as fuck. 

Your denial is so substantial that you don’t even move when he gets close, handing you incredibly warm material and looking murderous in a black tee and pants. 

“Here,” he offers, voice hardened gravel. “Put it on, doll.” 

Damn. No subtlety this time?

You don’t even wanna know what your brother could possibly look like right now. All you feel are several eyes watching your every move, including some that aren’t particularly friendly. 

But you whisper out a quiet thank you before he shakes his head. 

“I should’ve done this sooner.”

“You didn’t know.” 

“Doesn’t matter.”

When you take one look at his expression, you drop any other sentences you were gonna say. 

Yoongi is actually furious.  

Your stomach churns up a flurry of emotions as he turns, nodding to your brother that’s looking over with Shiv. 

Ah, fuck. Did all of them see that, too? 

They don’t need to do anything drastic. You’re fine if just.. feeling a little violated. 

Okay maybe you’d look the other way if they avenged you.  

“Y’all good over there?”

“Yeah.” 

Oh. Your brother didn’t see a thing. 

That’s probably best for everyone involved. 

“Let’s go then!” he yells, finishing his drink while Shiv puts all the cups back in place.

And Yoongi stays next to you, not caring if people give him looks. “Come on,” he mutters. “Just stay with us.” 

“Okay.” 

No other words are spoken as you walk out the backyard. 

But when Jimin pops up with Taehyung and your friends, Yoongi pulls him aside while you ask how the poker games went. 

The usual comments spring up immediately. Yuri complains about Taehyung being too good, and Dom and Reia quickly tell her she needs to work on her face. 

Laughing the edge off, you see your brother checking his phone. 

And just like the shadowed expression Jimin now has on his face, the hand your sibling smoothes over his head doesn’t seem like a good sign.

The haunted house was amazing, and it was a wonder you got through it in your shoes. 

But you need a break after all that screaming. And you already spent a lot of time saying goodbye to your friends before they left. 

So instead of joining Taehyung and his group in conversation, you keep to your own thoughts, sipping on punch while watching balloons cross kitchen tiles. 

Ironically, you need anything to get through the loneliness. 

Even more people latched onto Yoongi earlier. Which you should’ve seen coming after his whole ensemble was revealed. 

But he had to keep them entertained because he isn’t taken. Not officially; not to them. There couldn’t be hints of him being cuffed, especially when your brother could see him at any moment. 

Did you feel jealous? Upset? 

To your pleasant surprise, not really. 

Because unlike New Years, there’s been more history between the both of you that can never be repeated anywhere else. Ties that have woven between your bones and connections that you have no plans to sever. 

You cherish them. And you’d like to think that he does, too. 

All the flirting just sucked to see up close, though. 

A sudden tap on your shoulder makes you jump. 

“Fuck, sorry. You okay?”

As you see your brother and not another stranger, relief floods your system. And you hate how jumpy you are. 

So you lie a bit. “Yeah, why?” 

Hmm. He looks… out of sorts. You’re halfway into questioning the bend in his brows when he quickly asks, 

“You good to go home with your friends?” 

Wait, huh? That’s new. “Oh. They left but Tae’s here. You okay?” 

“Something came up at work so I’m heading back.” 

“The fuck? On Halloween?” 

He shakes his head before running a hand over his chin. “Yeah, I dunno. But if you don’t wanna leave just have him bring you back.” 

Damn. He’s not even concerned about you staying? What the hell is going on? 

And thinking about things… do you wanna stay anyway?

Looking out into the house, you do a quick sweep before deciding that you’re gonna tough this night out. Taehyung’s still here, and you can hang with his circle. 

You’re staying. Wishing for the best, you let him go. “K. Hope it’s all good.” 

“Nah, it’s fine. I just have to clean up someon's mess.” Your sibling squeezes your shoulder in a final goodbye before stepping away. Pointing to the ground, he warns, “No one better try shit with you.” 

“Go,” you usher with finality. “Text me when you’re home.” 

“K.”  

He heads out, and you’re left with your cup that you forgot you even had. 

Staring into it, you somewhat wish you heard a familiar laugh in your ears. Throwing yourself back to that New Years night when Yoongi hung back in the kitchen just to talk. 

Maybe he’s still preoccupied. Even after you gave him back his coat, ignoring his look of confusion.

After another half hour of feeling alone, with no vampire man in sight, you admit you're a little defeated. 

Maybe you should have left, too. 

Your purse buzzes, and you slowly fish out your phone while not looking at anything in particular.

But when you focus on your screen, your heart squeezes in double time. 

Yoongi [12:43am]: Where are you?

Feeling a mix of emotions—relief, confusion, anything in between—you text back. 

You [12:43am]: kitchen. but i was about to leave..

Yoongi [12:44am]: Don’t

Yoongi [12:44am]: Gimme a sec 

This is it. 

This is why you stayed. 

Because one thing Yoongi has always proven to you is that he will make time. Whether it takes him a day, three months, or two hours. 

Yoongi [12:50am]: Come up, doll

And you will wait forever. 

However long it takes.

You [12:51am]: ok

It’s a short trip up the stairs from near the kitchen, and you wonder what’s gonna greet you when you get to the second level.

Are people up there? Is he just telling you to come so he could be near you? Or is this a clandestine meeting where he steals you from the night like the fiend he’s dressed as? 

All of these thoughts wander about your head like specters. 

But as soon as you reach the top, all you see is Yoongi, glancing up from his phone before stowing it in a coat pocket. 

So unfair.

In the obnoxiously red and orange lighting, he looks even more devastating, standing like he’s been haunting your dreams for years. 

And you hate how small your voice is when you greet him with a measly, “Hi..” 

Very much unlike yours, Yoongi’s energy is loud. Powerful. He takes his time, consuming you with his gaze and making you feel so, so shy in heels that are somehow still on. 

“Come here.” 

“You sure?” 

He hesitates. 

And with a heavy heart, you wonder if he has the same question. 

But he walks toward you instead, and you feel vulnerable. Nervous. 

What’s he doing? What are either of you doing?

There’s a lot of people here still, and it’s not like they don’t know you. And they clearly know Yoongi quite fucking well.

God. You hate this uncertain, murky feeling. Because it could be solved so simply, so quickly. 

But nothing in life is ever quite that easy for you, nor for him. So the paranoia lingers and lingers. 

However. 

When this man leads you away from the stairs, your fear spins into thrill, your nervousness taking on a new meaning. 

“Yoongi…?” 

With a shuffle of leather, you’re positioned right in a corner, breath catching because holy shit anyone could come up at any moment. 

Why is Yoongi not nearly as concerned as you feel? Is he not jittery with nerves? 

Judging by his lowered lids and unbothered line of lips, no, he is not. 

As he looks around, warmth from his coat slowly swallows you on both sides. His hair cascades forward; his breath can be heard in the space between.

And you really do feel like he steals you away—from the night, the party, the world.

“Now what,” you whisper in pure nervousness. “Gonna bite me? Drink me? Suck me… Dry…”

His lips ghost along your neck, and you grant him all the access you have when he murmurs, 

“Is that what you want?”

Your check for understanding is a sigh, “Want…hmm?”

“Me to suck you dry.”

You know what he means. And you’re already fighting for air as your exhale shakes. “Yes,” you admit. “Lemme do it, too.” 

His dark hum rumbles your core. “Uh uh,” he rejects, one arm separating you from the rest of the room. “Only good girls can do that.”

That’s unfair. Fuck, that is really unfair.

You pant before gripping his coat in your fingers. “I’ll be good.” 

“You’ll be what?” he asks, licking a small stripe along your throat and making you flinch. 

“Fuck.” Your breath is harsh now. Very, very harsh. “A good girl.”

“Good.” 

You feel the slightest nick of teeth as he lunges into your neck, and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep from mewling out loud. 

Holy fuck, you’re already so wet.

There’s no way Yoongi can suck you dry at this point. Certainly not with the limited amount of time you have.

And the motherfucker knows it, his laugh pulsating down your spine. “So sensitive.”

“Yoongi—”

Again, he attacks, sucking hard once before running his tongue along the sting. 

Thoroughly overwhelmed, you dissolve into mush. Your legs buckle under the pleasure, sparks of desire firing along your limbs as your ankles work double to keep you upright. “Baby...”

“You taste so fucking good.” 

More. You need more and you need it now. “I wanna—”

Without warning, his lips finally find yours, arms fully encasing you in leather as he slams both hands on the wall. 

“Yoo—”

And your heart leaps into the kiss while your fingers zip right to his face, tugging him in until your noses smush. 

For someone with a million concerns before, you’re devouring him without any shits given and it’s magnetic. Electric. Magic. Sparks zip down your skin, pebbling your nipples and sending your toes in curls. 

Hints of whisky and smoke pepper your tongue, and you know your breath proved similar if just a bit more reserved.

But you can tell something’s off.

He’s holding back.

Why? Why are his hands still firmly on the wall? Why is he keeping his distance even though you’re standing right here?

If you’ve been fiending to touch him the whole night, he had to be feeling the same way.

So what’s with the sudden hesitation?

Your body thrums with need, yearning for those large palms to roam and venture across every inch. Aching for him to erase that stupid hug from earlier in a way only he can. 

“Baby,” you whisper. “Please.” 

“Please what.” 

“I need you.” 

“I’m right here.” 

“No, I”—you grip one of his wrists—“Please touch me.” 

“In here?” He pauses, pinning you with concern. “You sure?” 

Swallowing, you take in the music and conversations downstairs, hearing laughs and other exclamations. 

Were they always that loud?

“I’m doing this for your own good, doll.” 

Heart stuttering hard, you question, “Why?” 

Yoongi only lets out a huff. “Cus…” Leaned in fully, his hot breath fans your face, all of his dark syllables drenching you in hellfire, 

“If I touch you, I’m not gonna stop.” 

“Fuck,” you rush out, breathing so hard your chest billows out. “I want that.”

“You don’t.”

Fuck yes, you do. You aren’t letting another chance pass by. You’re feasting on him whether it’s for two seconds or one thousand, and he’s gonna do the same to you. 

Because as much as he’s holding back, you can tell he wants nothing but to tear you apart. A monster in the red lights strung around the game room.

And you’ll let him.

Consequences be damned. 

“I do,” you finally admit with a whoosh. “I don’t give a shit right now, Yoongi, just do it—”

Any other words are snatched from your mouth as you’re pinned against the wall, your reward in the form of rough skin and thick leather sliding all along your sides. 

Immediately, the coil in your belly rumbles to life, tightening click by thrilling click as you tug him in even closer.

Between kisses, you grit out how stupidly attractive he looks, and his chuckles are so dark that you feel them shake your core.

“Thought I was boring.”

Another groan into his mouth. “You know I didn’t mean that.”

“Say sorry then.”

It’s your turn to giggle, “And if I don’t?”

Fingers ghost along your throat before they squeeze in warning. “Try it.”

Attempting a whine, you press your shoulders back into the wall, fingers still clinging to his dark shirt. “I kinda… I kinda want to.” 

“I know you do.” He shoves one of your legs away with a strong thigh, pushing his weight forward and accusing, “Wanna be a brat so bad, huh.”

Desire is doing wonders for your confidence. You’re not gone, but you’re influenced enough to let your thoughts flow. 

All you needed was the last hit of this man’s magnetism. “Wanna be a lot of things for you..” 

Amusement rumbles out like thunder. “Like what.”

Giggling, you admit, “I didn’t dress like this for nothing.”

“I know.” He kisses you in a way that has you swooning. “I could get used to this.” 

“This wouldn’t get old?” 

“Fuck no.” His hands move straight to your ass. “Not if it’s you.”

Confused, you pout in a whine. “You said it was basic.”

“It is.” He goes right for your neck for another feast. “And it’s fuckin’ hot.” 

He then nips your skin in earnest, tugging his name out of your throat and causing you to claw into his hair.

“That guy just wanted to feel me,” you suddenly sigh, hating how you’re still thinking about it even now. 

“I know.” Yoongi stops before watching your eyes. With a finger on your chin, he checks, “You okay?”

“Just make me forget it.”

He keeps his gaze on you for a moment more, forehead pressing against yours before he vows, “You will. He won’t.” 

And your lips are fully captured before you can respond. 

You missed this. You missed this so fucking bad and you’re pretty sure you’re saying everything out loud but you don’t mind. Yoongi deserves to hear it and you are gonna live this out to the fullest.

If he doesn’t hear you, he certainly feels you. In the way you rake at his hair, tug at his chest, sling your arms around his beautiful neck.

But your frantic actions are stopped when he growls,

“Fuck, you shouldn’t’ve come up here.” 

“Wait, why—”

“Cus now I’m—Fuck it, come on.”

Before your mind catches up, your body is being rushed into the nearest door: a guest room that’s surprisingly not occupied. 

“Yoongi, what—” 

He holds a finger on his lips before peeking through the door, and he shuts it with a click when he seems convinced. 

And you’re even more alone with the demon of your dreams—now shrouded in bright white from the string lights in this space.

You have no choice but to submit to his hands, stomach flipping as he seizes your lips with newfound energy. When you respond in kind, he backs you up until your legs hit the guest bed, setting off another alarm in your fizzing brain.

“Baby, you sure?”

“I won’t do much.” Yoongi lowers you down, steadying himself on an elbow. “Do you trust me?” 

“Yes.” His gaze is steady on yours. “Nervous, though.” 

Because it’s true. Even if your brother isn’t in the house, there’s a high possibility one of his friends walks through that door. One of Yoongi’s friends, even. 

“We don’t have to, doll.” 

And if you’re honest… 

The thrill of it is enticing.

“We can.” 

“I got us,” he assures with a kiss, now grinning like mad. “Lemme live this out just once.” 

A bit shy, you bite your lip to combat your nerves. And the million butterflies raging in your ribcage. “And what would that be.” 

“Not telling.” 

Of course. “You suck.” 

Puffs of mirth leave his mouth before he consumes you, and you feel unbelievably scandalous and loving every second. 

Because you saw Yoongi leave the door unlocked. There’s no recovering if someone opens it without you both hearing them, because the closet is opposite from the bed. You will absolutely not get there in time. 

Be it the holiday itself, or the fact that Yoongi’s positively enjoying himself, you feel more enthralled by the danger than you’ve ever been. 

And the fluttering in your chest triples when he lifts your tee. “Baby—!”

“Chill, love,” he laughs, a glint in his eye as he kisses your bra. “Never done this before?” 

“No, but—fuck.” 

Your soft moan stems from him slipping your bra down, licking at your chest and groaning at your scent. 

“God, you’re so perfect.” 

Fervently disagreeing, you reply so lightly, “Not at all.” 

“You are.” Another kiss to your lips before he moves down to your throat, squeezing one of your breasts with purpose. His weight feels heavenly on your torso, which you label the most ironic given how sinful he looks. “Couldn’t fucking wait to get you alone.” 

Fucking hell, do you feel the same. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d even get the chance. As you arch into his chest, your bare skin heats under his mountain of dark clothes. “Wanted to be with you all night…” 

“Same.” The next kiss proves deep, and he slides a hand under your head to claim as much of you as he can. His lips leave yours with a pop before he grips you with conviction. “Fuck, you should’ve been.” 

Oh. 

You know why he’s holding you so hard. 

And it touches the deepest, softest parts of your soul. 

Gently holding his taut wrist, you whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 

His eyes stay closed, blocking you from hearing anything that he could be thinking. 

But it’s your turn to lift his chin with a finger, and you reassure him with everything you have, 

“Nothing happened. Don’t worry, okay?” 

Yoongi still doesn’t answer, which makes you sad. One dude shouldn’t ruin both of your moods hours after the fact. He can eat shit and Yoongi deserves to be the one enjoying a perfect night. 

So you vow to make that reality. 

“Besides,” you continue, waiting until he finally looks at you. When he does, you slyly smooth both hands over your breasts, pushing them together right in front of his face. “These are yours, right?”

Like a switch abruptly flipped, Yoongi’s whole demeanor changes on a dime. 

Hungry eyes rake over your chest before he plants a kiss on your fingers before anything else. “What else is mine.” 

Your cunt quakes at the question, making you drag one of his hands down to the side of your ass. “This,” you whisper, biting back glee as he grabs right at it. 

His mouth hovers over yours now, voice so low it sounds more like distant thunder, “What else, doll.” 

And whatever made you so bold washes away in an instant. Because you know what you wanna say but it’s the hardest one to let fly. 

Of course, Yoongi knows this. It’s the only reason he’s being so cheeky about it now. “That it?” he asks with a lilt. “You sure?” 

Gnawing your lip, you shake your head, garnering more and more courage to tell him one last answer. 

“Don’t be shy,” he orders through a wicked grin. “Tell me.” 

Just say it. All you have to do is whip it out of your mouth and you can get on with it—

A bunch of voices start getting louder and louder from outside the door, and Yoongi reacts before you can process what to do. 

Tee shoved back on and skirt rumpled to hell, you’re quickly rushed to the closet, thankful that Jimin’s house is fucking enormous and gives every bedroom double-doored enclosures for clothes. 

Conversation gets even closer. Someone is definitely coming in holy shit shit shit. 

Adrenaline courses through your veins as you settle on a sidewall, and the fact that there’s enough room for you to stand sideways is enough to distract your harrowing thoughts. 

But Yoongi shuts the doors with practiced ease, dousing the space in darkness with only small strips of light to illuminate. 

So fucking unfair. 

Just him peeking through the crack in the doors makes you suffer, chains dangling from his chest and the mischievous glint in his eyes giving you pain. 

Why does his side profile have to be so perfect? Why is this bad boy adjacent version of him enough to send you into orbit? 

Suddenly, two voices burst into the room. 

And you recognize both of them. 

“—like you said, right?” 

“I know, but…” 

It’s Tae. 

And Jimin. 

“Then hey,” you hear your friend say with hope. “It’s okay.” 

The coincidence of those words in that room does not get past you. 

“You really think so?” 

There’s a bit of silence before Taehyung responds, but you suddenly get distracted by someone much, much closer. 

Because Yoongi’s slowly roaming a finger along the hem of your skirt, hooking it in and slowly tugging you forward what the fuck!

When your wide eyes meet his, you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying this. And you have to clamp your mouth shut when he casually starts feeling over your shirt.  

What the fuck is he doing! 

This man is going to be the end of you. 

“So yes. Let’s go back down, yeah?” 

“Okay… Just give me a moment.” 

Delirium. You’re approaching delirium as Yoongi now watches you suffer, and you buckle when he travels under your tee—up, and up, and impishly ducking his thumb under your bra. 

And you almost can’t deal with the feeling. 

Because your senses are upped to the highest setting, body on full alert and having to keep quiet when at his mercy. 

You feel legitimately wild, mad, drunk off Yoongi’s presence alone. There are literally people on the other side of thin wood and he’s driving you up every closet wall in the house. 

Out of your mind, you aim for his neck when you launch your own silent ambush. 

And it’s his turn to suffer when you grab at his chains, because you tug him enough to get access to his neck as soon as you hear your friend again. 

“Even this room looks nice and it's unused. Seriously, you did a good job.” 

“Most of it was your idea.” 

“Me? I only suggested it because I knew you could do it.” 

Yoongi’s breath puffs over your shoulder, and he buries his head in your tee while you lick and suck him with a vengeance. His hands grapple your hips, taking no time in circling back over your ass. 

“Thanks. Okay, I’m ready.” 

“Finally. It was getting boring in here.” 

A laugh tinkers out before Jimin hums in confusion. 

“Weird. Thought I told people to not touch this bed.” 

“You just sat on it.” 

“I didn’t sit on that side.” 

Taehyung responds right as you grope Yoongi’s crotch, and his body locks so hard you flinch at his grip.  

“It’s probably nothing. The bed’s still made.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” 

Mercifully, the guest door opens again before shutting, and you’re left in the weighty silence and faint bass of music coming from downstairs. 

Adrenaline still at its peak. 

“You’re gonna pay for that.” 

“Says you,” you pant, mewling when his lips latch onto your neck for the umpteenth time. “What do we do now?” 

After another suck, Yoongi lifts his head. “With what?” 

“This,” you clarify, gesturing to the closet space. “We have to leave, right?” 

“Do you want to?” 

You pause. 

If you leave now, you can sneak out of the room and no one will ever know you spent seven minutes in heaven with Min Yoongi. 

But if you stay… 

“Not really,” you whisper in admittance. “You?”

“Fuck no.” 

Your giggles end up in his mouth when he claims you, and you grab at his chains in earnest, tugging him closer before raking impatient fingers through his ruffled locks. 

And you’re already fine with this situation. Making out with this man in a closet? Who would’ve thought you would have this opportunity in the history of ever? 

So when you feel wandering fingers between your legs, your reaction comes out a high mewl. “Wait—What are you—”

“Careful, doll,” Yoongi quells. “Gotta keep that mouth shut, yeah?” 

You nod before realizing he probably can’t see, so you whisper an affirmative before slamming your lips shut. 

Because one touch of his fingers on your covered slit has you already losing it. 

A manicured hand slaps over your mouth as you widen your legs, gripping his coat with the other as he surrounds you mentally and physically. All you can think about is the way he’s calmly shifting your panties, expertly sliding over your cunt and chuckling right in your ear. 

“You’ve been this wet this whole time?” 

Gasping, you hum out a yes, and Yoongi laughs the scariest you've ever heard him,

“Nah, we’re fucking in here.” 

Holy fuck, what? 

“Baby,” you plead in his ear, wanting him in every way possible but knowing you don’t have a condom. “We can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“We don’t have—”

“Yeah, we do.” When he senses your confusion, he peeks out the closet door before... leaving. 

What the fuck! What is he doing why is he going for a casual stroll with a boner right now? 

Oh, he’s back already. But you’re still holding your heart with a goddamn fist. 

When Yoongi holds one up, he laughs. “I actually didn’t know if he had some up here, by the way.” 

“Sure you didn’t.” 

He smirks before pocketing the package, grabbing your face and kissing all the lingering fright from your features. His tongue slides all along yours before he sucks, and his teeth drag over your plush when he lets go. “You down?” 

Drunk off his continuously great make-out sessions, you slur out, “Hmm?” 

“We don’t have to.” 

Your smile is automatic. Knowing Yoongi’s still asking even though he was dead set on it makes giving him the go-ahead even easier. 

But you both hear another smatter of activity in the game room outside. And it seems like people are starting to use the pool table. 

Fuck. 

Do you really go for it? 

You’re gonna have to be silent as the grave if you do, because this will be the most sordid position you can be found in. 

…Fuck it. Screw it. It’s Halloween and you’re dancing with the devil. 

“Yes we do,” you scoff. “But if you break my heels we’re gonna fight.” 

His quiet bout of laughs makes you melt, and his fingers feel positively intoxicating when they find your cunt again. 

Your shoulders hit the wall with a soft bump as you arch, back to sewing your mouth closed and smushing your head in his clothes. His name slips out on your breaths, and his growls make you quiver with more and more impatience, 

“So fucking wet.” 

Fuck. 

“Gonna take this dick so well.” 

Nope. You can’t wait anymore. You don’t care who the fuck is out there, you’re folding and folding fast. 

“Please, baby,” you pant. “I need you. Now.” 

Yoongi obliges immediately, spinning you around and pinning your front against the wall. 

Well, you think he’s on the same page. 

Until he clamps a hand over your mouth before fingering you from behind holy fuck you might come any moment now. 

Your hands slide into fists on the wall as you moan in his fingers, shoving your ass back to glean as much delicious friction as you can. 

“There you go,” Yoongi praises. “Just like that.” 

You’re gonna come. You’re already gonna come and he’s hitting every fucking spot to speed up the process. It’s almost unbelievable how quickly he can launch you off the edge, but you suspect this time has something to do with the thrill of your whole situation. 

You feel bad. 

And it feels fantastic. 

“Babe,” you whisper, turning your head. “I’m already close.” 

When you clasp a hand around his wrist, he finally finally finally grants you into heaven’s gates. You feel him let up, and you wait with tiny shakes as he rips the condom pack open with ease. The clink of his belt tickles your ears just right, and you quickly think about other dark things. 

After a moment and more clothes shuffling, you feel his hands slide along your hiked up skirt before gripping your ass, never failing to worship your body and making you feel fucking pretty. 

When he leans forward, his warm shirt and chilly chains on your bare skin alone push you even further. “Hands over that mouth, doll,” he rasps in your ear. “Can’t be loud for me this time.” 

“Mmhmm.”

“Good girl.” 

As soon as you do what you’re told, you regret not pressing down harder. 

Because Yoongi plunges into you so smoothly that your moan almost flows right out of your fingers. 

Holy shit you really were that wet. But he's still so big. So, so big, and filling you too well fuck are you being too loud because it feels so fucking—

“Thought you were just gonna dip without saying bye?”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi did not wait until he was inside of you to say that.

“Think you’d just show up looking cute and talk some shit, huh.”

Damn it. He did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s a demon and you have nowhere to run now. 

Delightfully frightened, you shake your head in denial. Repeatedly and full of terror.

“Show me up then.”

He stops all his movements, and you’re left to your own devices. Stranded on his dick with only the wall and your heels to support you.

Oh, he’s a killer. 

And he’s all yours.

Thrusting back, you start slow, groaning into your hand at how large he is. It’s a wonder you can even move, and your jaw unhinges when you feel his dick hit a certain spot just right.

Again, and again, you fuck him as deep as you can take, slamming your ass into his pelvis and finding pride in the divots he’s sinking into your cheeks.

Yoongi’s still unhelpful, but you can tell he’s breaking. His grip is getting harder, his minuscule groans lower and more forced. Even the tiniest curse makes you preen, and you throw a look over your shoulder to hear him better.

Which is the worst best thing to do. 

“Fuck, doll.”

With quickness, he rams himself into you, a sweaty hand clasping right over yours just as you yelp.

“We aren’t finished with that,” he promises through gritted teeth, and he takes over before you can process what that means. 

And his pace is relentless, pumping into you so well that every thrust catapults you across space and time. 

You’re outright panting now, feeling him deep in your guts and the strong lines of his forearm pressed into your chest. 

“Breathe in for me.”

And you do, feeling his hand close around your throat while fingers lodge themselves inside your mouth. 

Fuck! 

Your eyes roll so far back you can probably see him if you had light, and you’re mercifully let go before you need to gasp for oxygen. 

“Again.”

When you obey, Yoongi chokes you again, and you’re finding it euphoric as he clasps your column even harder. Every time he does, you clench around his cock, and a warm feeling washes over you every time he lets go. 

“How’s that feel, baby girl,” he asks, humming in approval when you drag a reply out,

“So good.” 

“Good.” He kisses your sweaty cheek before easily admitting, “I like it, too.”

Stilling, you turn as far as you can to regard him, asking in the tiniest voice, “You do?”

He darts his eyes to your lips before nodding. “You can try it next time.”

You smile, not knowing why you feel shy in this position of all things. But maybe you’re just happy that he said that. Because he didn’t need to admit something so intimate in the moment. 

“We’ll do whatever you want,” you vow in a murmur, closing your eyes when he captures your lips.

After sliding a tender hand down your cheek, he whispers, “Turn around.”

You immediately do, untwisting your back and relieving the tension in your neck. When you slowly move to face Yoongi again, he steadies you the whole way. 

And as soon as you’re settled, he kisses you so hard you fall back against the wall again. 

Hands come up to shove your tee upward and unhook your bra, and he gropes at your chest before ducking to take a nipple in his hot mouth.

Surging with pulses, you bury your face to muffle your moans, squeezing your eyes shut from pure ecstasy.

How the fuck are you doing this? With him? If you travelled back in time to tell yourself that this was gonna happen at a party someday, you would’ve been told to piss off. 

“Love these tits,” Yoongi grits. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t wanna wear a bra.”

He immediately chuckles. Darkness and sin brushing your chest. “I would’ve left.” 

You hum in mirth, knowing exactly what he means by that. As much as you wanted to tease him, you know that decision would’ve immediately gotten him in trouble. 

And definitely other people, too.

But the more he keeps licking and sucking, the more you feel it coming. Release. The inferno. It’s on the horizon and you’re just awaiting the crash of relentless deluge.

“There you go,” he rumbles. “You gonna come?”

You pant out before nodding, every muscle thrumming like hell. 

And he orders low in your ear, yanking your orgasm right out of your very center,

“Then come for me, doll.”

Your body wracks with jolts, stabs of lightning hitting every limb and locking them at hard angles. A rush of pleasure surges through, filling the closet with a heady scent that makes Yoongi groan pride into your neck.

“Uh huh,” he praises. “Still wanna talk shit?”

And you do. Tears leak from your eyes as you nod, orgasm riding farther than ever, waves unending and your mental shore nowhere in sight. 

“Course you do.” Yoongi claims your mouth. “Fuckin’ love it.”

Still, you feel pulled, lost to the universe that’s him and him alone, and you want to reciprocate the same pleasure that he’s providing. 

“Baby, I’m still—”

“Fuck—”

You don’t know what comes over your brain, or your body, or whatever else runs on autopilot. But you use the rest of your strength to shove him back, pushing him until he hits the other wall of the closet.

“D—”

You rush out a question before lowering yourself, “Did you come?”

“No, but—”

“Take it off.”

Stunned, Yoongi rushed to unsheath the wrapper, rubbing himself before you take control. 

Nothing will stop you at this point. Anyone could come in and you’d still be pleasuring Yoongi until he breaks. 

Because you want this. He’s earned this. 

Your knees hit the ground right as you take him in your mouth, tasting the strange mix of salt and latex but knowing it won’t be for long. 

This is what you’ve been wanting to do since he gave you his goddamn coat, and your imagination has been so vastly outdone by reality that you feel like none of it’s truly happening. 

When you flick your eyes upward, you get another thing you’ve been yearning for. 

Yoongi is fighting for his life. 

You can barely see that his eyes are squeezed tight, and you catch a tiny glimpse of his mouth agape before he bites it shut. When you suck in hard, his whole body flinches, and for the first time that night, he’s the one with a hand over his mouth. 

And you feel so fucking elated that you welcome the hot strings of cum painting your mouth, groaning around him and giggling when his essence slips right down your throat. 

He’s promising dark and wonderful things above your head, and you feel him grip your chin as soon as you pop off of his dick.

“Open that mouth.”

You show him, hoping he can tell in the dim light that there’s no drop left on your tongue.

“Goddamn.”

You’re tugged up before your mouth is smothered by his, and you teeter on your heels for balance as he whips you back against a solid surface.

It looks like he wants to say something. 

But nothing comes out as he clenches a fist next to your head. 

As you both calm, only your breaths fill the closet, your scents of passion clinging onto coats and jackets, all of which you could’ve worn in place of the one he gave you. 

But Yoongi did something so bold tonight that it was only natural for you to want to take the same risk. 

As he kisses you slow, you respond in kind, rolling your lips with his and enjoying coming down from this high with him every time. 

Shouts and yells from the game outside pierce into the closet, but both of you exist in your own little world. With you tracing the lines of his shirt and him gently straightening your clothes. 

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“For what, doll,” he asks in return. 

“Making me yours.” When you slightly pull on his jacket, you hope he gets what you mean. “Even if no one else knows.” 

His tiny peck on your cheek is genuine and, if you aren’t mistaken, a little prideful. “They’re going to, doll,” he vows into your skin. “I told you, you're gonna get tired of me.” 

"Lies," you sigh in peace. “So I get Halloween pictures with you next time, too?” 

Yoongi freezes, standing straight before fishing out his phone. 

And you fuss up a quiet storm before he lets you fix yourself, smiling at his camera as he squishes his sweaty, satisfied as fuck face right next to yours. 

If anyone ever comes across those pictures on his phone, you will never ever tell them the context. They'll never know why your makeup looks like that, or why his hair is even more haphazard, or why you both look way too happy to be in a closet.

Even if they frightened you to death. 

Some time later—and after a stressful time sneaking out with a smug Yoongi in tow—you find yourself downstairs and heading out the door with Taehyung. 

After he asks where you were, you simply tell him the truth: you were with Yoongi. And end it at that. 

With one look at your neck, he hums in amusement.

And you immediately slap a hand over it in shock, embarrassed to hell when he laughs.

But you let Tae tease you all the way home, knowing that you also caught a small glimpse of his life with Jimin. Not that you’ll tell him that until months from now. 

When your phone buzzes, you immediately check what awaits you. 

And you dissolve into mush yet again.

Yoongi [2:45am]: Text me when you’re home 

You [2:45am]: but im not going to your place :((  

What is home, if not where you feel the most at peace? Where you feel like you can be yourself and not worry about sneaking around? Where you know someone will protect you and be that person you can go to without any questions asked? 

Yoongi [2:47am]: Next Halloween you will be 

It’s definitely with Yoongi. 

Right now, you know your home is with him. 

Smiling, you type another text, full of contentment and looking towards the day all of this can be lived the way you both want. 

You [2:47am]: turn into a cat 

Yoongi [2:47am]: 😒

Taehyung looks at you when you laugh, and his grin grows when he can tell you’re genuinely happy. 

And when Yoongi actually sends you a selfie matching the ear gesture he did earlier, you feel the endearing prick of hot tears in your eyes. 

Yoongi [2:49am]: 1 Attachment 

He has a distinct matching mark on his neck.

And you are one thousand percent sure he took the picture knowing it's visible.

Yoongi [2:50am]: Meow :)

Happy Halloween indeed. 

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end :)

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🍊ahhh what do we think !!🍊| join the taglist!

a/n: thank you all for reading! i know this is super super late to post but i wanted it to be decent for y'all before letting it free. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.

a/n 2: to any men reading this series, let me tell you.. that hug situation happened to me and some people i know and it suuuucks :(( ladies - and guys, anyone really - if you've had that happen to you i am sending you the biggest genuine hugs and a 3tan yoongi to make it better. and if it hasn't happened to you, then good.

++feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[seeingivy]

french toast

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: enabled by @babiemay thank her for giving me the BIGGEST best friends older brother sukuna brain rot i've ever had in my life. (ooc sukuna again btw)

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

--

based on the seventeen years that sukuna has known you, he figures that you’ve already worked up some type of overthinking storm in your head when you arrive at his apartment two days later. and he knows for a fact that he’s right, because you’re at his doorstep with a pinched look on your face, clutching your purse like you’re about to get robbed. 

“hi pretty girl. did someone make an attempt on your life today?” 

you can feel your cheeks burning at the term of endearment, so phased you can barely coherently respond - or understand - what it is he said. 

“no?” you respond, nearly sweating under his eye contact as he smiles. 

“then why are you looking at me like you think i’m going to eat you?” he asks, annoyed as he gestures for you to walk into the kitchen. 

you feel your head run in a spiral, at the implication of his words, as he places his hands flat on your shoulders, and guides you to sit at the stool on his little kitchen island. the entire ordeal - the breakfast, the fact that he’s peeling off your coat and pressing a kiss to your temple, and the lingering touches - they make your skin burn, almost itch with nervousness. 

he stands on the other side of the counter, leaning forward on his forearms, as he smiles at you. and you try your best to figure out what exactly it is that’s beaming in his eyes as he leans forward. 

“pick your poison.” 

you feel yourself pale. 

“huh?” 

he frowns, as he leans back. 

“for breakfast? what did you want to eat?” he clarifies. 

you breathe a sigh of relief. 

“anything’s okay. don’t trouble yourself. i-i can even help.” 

you walk over to his side, pulling up your sleeves and giving him a peachy smile, as he takes the opportunity to step towards you. your back hits the counter and sukuna makes it a point - resting both of his arms at your sides - as he traps you within his hold. 

“talk.” he states, almost sternly. 

“hm?” 

sukuna leans closer, leaning his forehead against yours, as he takes a deep breath. it reminds you vividly, of two nights ago, when he pulled you straight onto his lap. and murmured into your skin that you were his pretty girl. and that he was going to prove it to you. 

“talk.” he states, the tone in his voice irritated. 

you look up at him, at his eyes razor focused in on yours, and spot no inclination of irritation on his face. despite the fact that you were almost positive that it was dripping from his tone. though, you always found him particularly hard to read.  

“now.” he murmurs. 

you sigh. 

“what are you trying to do right now?” you ask. 

he rolls his eyes. there’s the irritation you were hearing. 

“make you breakfast.” he deadpans. 

“is that all?” 

“what are you getting at?” he asks. 

sukuna often finds that talking to you is like digging a hole. that it takes patience. because he’s not going to find what he’s looking for forthright. but he knows for a fact that there’s something down there. 

it’s aggravating. but he persists.  

“promise you won’t make fun?” you ask. 

“i will do no such thing.” 

“sukuna.” you whine, crossing your hands against your chest. 

sukuna finds this part of you endearing. because it reminds him of all the different ways he’s seen you. when you were four and barging into his house to play wii with his little brother, explaining barbie movies at the dinner table, and tagging along on his family vacation when he was fourteen. 

and how after all this time, you still have the same tendencies. you bounce your right leg when you’re nervous, tuck your hair behind your ears when you’re finished rambling, and curl your hands into little fists and cross your arms - entirely unable to meet his eyes - when you’re embarrassed. 

sukuna clears his throat, as you look up at him. and you know the expression all too well. that he’ll wait all day if he has to. 

“no making fun. i’m serious, sukuna.” 

“it’s almost like you know you’re going to say something stupid.” 

“don’t call my feelings stupid.” you murmur. 

“well, i’ll keep calling them stupid until you tell me what they are. i’ll be honest if you let me.” 

this is something you can appreciate about sukuna. that he won’t beat around the bush. or say things just to coddle. it’s the same as the other night, where you told him about what happened at the bar, when he didn’t rush to your defense like almost everyone else does. and when it comes to this, you figure that he’ll be straightforward. 

“are you trying to have sex with me right now?” you ask. 

you look at sukuna, specifically at the way his eyes widen, before he breaks out into a laugh. and not just any laugh, because he’s nearly keeling over with how amusing he finds it. howling even. and it makes even more blood rush to your cheeks, humiliated for even bringing it up. 

sukuna grins, lifting his hands up from the sides of the counter and wrapping them around your neck.you can feel your breath hitch in your throat, as you instinctively shut your eyes. he’s going to be straightforward. 

“your feelings are stupid.” he whispers, right into your skin. 

you pull back, staring at him dumbfounded, as he places one of his hands on your waist. and he’s staring back at you, the expression in his face slightly amused. 

“that’s not nice.” 

“i’m not a nice person.” 

it’s frustrating. the tone that he uses with you. it teeters between placating and teasing you and you find it hard to decide which one exactly it is. and it seeps right under your skin, lets your irritation come to a head faster than it usually would.

“okay, well. sue me! you had no problems doing god knows what in my room the other day. and-and then you were making jokes about how you were going to eat me. the second that i got here. and-and you know how you are-” 

“and what’s that?” 

you pause.

“what?” 

“you said you know how you are. well, i don’t. enlighten me please.” he clarifies. 

sukuna’s pleased with himself. because he’s figured out exactly what it is, that’s brewing in that head of yours. and naturally, he has every intention to make you mince your words. 

“you-” 

you’re not sure how to say this. if there’s a polite way to call him what he is. 

“i’m what? a manwhore?” he asks. 

“no! you-” 

“you think i’m a horny freak, right? that i want to lift you up, take your skirt off, and have you right here on my kitchen counter?” 

you feel your eyes go wide, as you swallow hard, and feel the nervousness take residence in your stomach. sukuna senses it fast enough and makes his efforts to diffuse it. 

“do you think i would only invite you here because i want you to please me? do you think that’s the only way i can enjoy your company?” 

you can feel yourself getting too overstimulated, your head nearly steaming - at the implication, at the way he’s looking at you, and the fact that his lips are a few feet away from yours - and his smug grin crawling underneath your skin and making you twitch. 

you cover your face with your hands, feeling the warmth on your palms, as you feel his hands curl around your wrists, prying them off of your face. and when you look up at him, at the soft smile on his face, as you can’t help but frown at him. 

“no…” 

sukuna smiles. 

“are you lying to me?” 

you deflate. 

“maybe a little.” 

sukuna secures his hands around your waist, before fully lifting you up and placing you on the counter. and he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek before he wordlessly starts rummaging through different cabinets in his kitchen and the fridge, fully intent on making you the breakfast you were promised. 

you can’t help but watch him, as he muses around his kitchen, slicing vegetables on the cutting board and fruits on the side. at how he entirely discards the conversation you just had like it was nothing. 

from two feet away, sukuna is very, very appreciative of you. because you’re not very proud. and despite your first attempts, you’re honest too. because he knows for a fact that your hesitation to state your thoughts is because you don’t want to write sukuna off as something so…lewd. even if you think it’s true. and that of course, any hesitation on your part comes from something deeper than him. 

the deep seated distaste you seem to have for yourself. though sukuna’s entirely unsure why it’s there in the first place. he slices a strawberry in half, letting the eggs cook at his side, before he makes a residence standing in between your legs. 

he hands you one of the halves of the strawberry, before popping the other in his mouth and leaning into your space. 

“i don’t think you’re a manwhore.” you clarify. 

“okay. i don’t think you’re one either.” he responds. 

you smile.

“but you do think that’s the only reason you’re here?” he pokes. 

“no! no, i don’t think that. i just-” 

you sigh, placing your hands flat on the fabric of his hoodie, as you crumple it into your fists. 

“sorry. i’m not very good at this type of thing. and-and you’re like…you know. reputation. and you obviously have needs! and megumi thinks you’re a womanizer.” 

sukuna snickers, as you release his hoodie, and you deflate slightly. mainly at the fact that he’s not offended. and letting you ramble - and say ten different things you shouldn’t - openly. 

sukuna doesn’t shy away from what exactly it is that you think of him. or what that godawful sea urchin megumi thinks either. because it’s naturally, quite simple. and somewhat true. because he finds it hard to stay in one place for a long time. and as you very keenly put it, he had needs. 

though, that rule, as sukuna was painstakingly reminded of, didn’t apply to you. because again, you transcended any normal guideline that sukuna had. which is why he was keen on making you breakfast two days later, on his day off. and make your favorite, which he specifically remembers from the camping trip. 

“i’m not sure what thing you’re referencing. and make no mistake. i don’t talk in tongues like you do. if i invite you over for breakfast, it’s because i want to eat breakfast with you.” he responds. 

“you were the one who said you were going to eat me.” you defend. 

“you were looking at me like you were scared of me. like how prey looks at a predator before it gets eaten?” 

“oh.” 

sukuna pushes off the counter as he starts plating the food onto and feels his ego inflate when you jump off the counter and cling to his arm when you realize what exactly it is that he made. 

“sukuna. i love french toast!” 

“yes. i’m well aware.” 

"how'd you know?" you ask.

sukuna looks over at you, the look in his eyes so devious, that you know you've certainly walked into something by stating it.

"you told us. on the camping trip. you've always been my pretty girl. even when you were fourteen."

you barely have time to even stomach what it is that he said as he lifts both plates as he makes a gesture for you to follow, seating the two of you back on his kitchen island. and when you settle in, sukuna gets to pick at your mind, with the questions that have been stuck in his head for the past two days. 

“before i divulge my manwhore adventures for you, you have to indulge me first. how many guys have you dated? or talked to?” sukuna asks. 

you hate sukuna’s choice of words sometimes. indulge. it’s almost like he knows he’s saying words that make you nervous. that make the sweat accumulate on the palms of your hands. 

“where’d you learn how to make french toast like this?” you ask, deflecting. 

“i asked first.” 

you swirl the eggs around on the plate - moving them from the left, to the right, and back to the left - before you answer. 

“i had a crush on this guy named dean from sixth grade to eighth grade. all of the boys in school got dared to slow dance with different girls and he picked me. it was an awkward four minutes of halo by beyonce but i loved him after that. he was funny. and cute.” 

“did you date?” he asks. 

“oh, of course not. he started liking this girl named kimi in eighth grade.” 

sukuna’s not exactly sure if this is the question he asked. but you keep going. and it’s intriguing to him nonetheless. 

“in my sophomore year of highschool, i had a crush on this guy named parker. he was kind of nerdy, like the stupid type? my english teacher would always put us in group projects together, and when i asked him why, he said it was because he wanted us to get married.” 

“that’s an appropriate thing to say to a fifteen year old.” sukuna bites. 

“no! my teacher had this dream to go to two of his students weddings, that met in his class.” 

“and what killed that extremely inapprorpiate dream, dead in its tracks?” 

“my best friend. we all somehow ended up in the same friends group our junior year. and they kind of started flirting. dated all the way till our freshman year of college.” you respond. 

sukuna curbs the question that comes to the forefront of his mind. because it occurs to him that his plausible answer to it, one that he despises, is exactly what’s going to be the answer. that if they liked each other, you were going to let them. despite the fact that you liked him first. 

“any more for me?” sukuna asks. 

“my first boyfriend was in my senior year of highschool.” 

sukuna feigns shock, as you fight the urge to laugh. 

“have we finally arrived to a real boyfriend?” 

you laugh, as you settle your hand into his underneath the table. there’s something so inviting about him, the way he’s hanging off the ends of your words and listening intently, that makes you continue. 

“we don’t speak his name.” you state. 

“oh?” 

“he’s not a good guy. we dated until….my freshman year of college. december. and we officially stopped talking the summer of my sophomore year.” you state. 

sukuna bites the urge to ask every question in his mind. on who this guy is, why you continued to talk to him almost an entire year after, and most importantly, why you haven’t talked to anyone else since. 

except for him anyways. for the first time, sukuna finds himself being the exception. in a way that’s favorable to him. 

“that’s all of them! your turn.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“that’s all?” 

“mhm! it’s kind of boring, i’m assuming. in comparison to you.” 

sukuna concludes one thing. that all three of these men, especially the last, were not deserving of you. in the slightest. and that each one had wrecked a sizeable amount of havoc. he curses himself for not paying attention when he was still there.

“oh definitely. you’d need to stay here all day if you wanted to here that.” 

you smile brightly. 

“that can be arranged.” you respond. 

sukuna leans forward, lips a few feet away from yours, before he speaks again. 

“you like to play hard to get, don’t you?” sukuna asks. 

“what? what do you mean?” 

sukuna places his hands on the rung of your chair, before pulling it flesh with his own. and he tests the waters, by placing his hand on your bare knee, right near the pleats of your black skirt. and he feels you instinctively press your legs together, but make no moves to push him off. 

“i didn’t make the list?” 

you swallow hard, entirely embarrassed. though, your first real crush you supposed is naturally the one that you’ve denied, vehemently, since you were four years old and yuuji asked you in passing. 

because when your eyes lingered on him for too long, after he fixed the wii controls and dutifully handed you both your controllers back - of his wii, that he was letting you play on - yuuji halfmindedly asked the question. 

why are you looking at him like that? do you like him or something? 

it was a joke, of course. because yuuji just asked so he could start the match of wii tennis while you weren’t paying attention. that in the rush of it, you never got to consider the answer to it in full. though you suppose there’s no better time to answer it than now. 

“i have this best friend. his name is yuuji.” you start. 

sukuna’s alarmed. so alarmed that he pulls his hand off of your thigh, retreating it behind his back. 

surely you didn’t really like yuuji. because that would stop whatever it was that was blooming right now. because he was not his brother, despite their identical pink hair. the farthest thing from it actually. 

“i met him when i was four. and i barged into his house because he wanted me to play wii with him. you see, his big brother didn’t really like to play with him so he figured that i was the next best thing.” you state. 

“he had greasy hands. so did you. it was disgusting.” he states. 

“and yuuji didn’t know how to turn on the game. or-or remember which one it was in. so he called his very cool, much older brother, to help us. i’d never met a six year old before, and naturally if i had, i wouldn’t have thought he was so cool.” 

“shut up.” 

sukuna desperately wants you to continue. 

“seemed like the real serious type. kind of quiet. dark blue shirt, black shorts. the socks that only go to your ankles. i didn’t even know that his name was sukuna until a few days later, when he walked with us to school. he didn’t even introduce himself to me.” 

“did you want to know him that badly?” 

“and he fixed the remote, obviously. had some six year knowledge we didn’t clearly. and-and he turned to me. gave me a smile before he handed one to me and walked away.” you state, shrugging at him. 

sukuna’s satiated with your answer. mostly because, it seems you seem to remember the ordeal in as excruticating detail as he has. that you were wearing a pink dress, gold earrings, and a ribbon in your hair. that your skin was the softest he had ever felt, that you were the first girl who had brushed fingers with him when he handed you the remote, save for his mom of course 

sukuna brings his hand back into your hair, feeling the fabric of the blue ribbon in your hair today, matching with the short cardigan that you were wearing. and he wants to keep this one too. yank it out of your hair and secure it to his keys next to the pink one he refused to return. 

sukuna looks down at the fabric, at your hair sprawled over your shoulder. he can make out the length of your collarbone from underneath your tanktop and settles his lips right into divot, before pressing a lingering kiss into your skin and feeling you keel over in his arms. 

“france.” he murmurs, right into your skin. 

“what’s that?” you ask, dazed from the contact. 

“i learned to make the french toast in france.”

he kisses up the length of your neck, making no inclination to stop even as you barely stutter your words out. and for the second time, can't resist and places his hands on your waist just to pull you straight on top of him.

"makes sense. that's just-just toast for them." you mumble.

sukuna can't help but laugh. he's never going to tire of you.

--

next part linked here

taglist: @ghostreadersthings @porridgesblog  @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks

[cursedtrekedits]

Responses to the question: what is Kirk holding?

…

"a purse that matches his shirt" -@thetimetostrikeislater

"a happy meal in each hand" -@thetimetostrikeislater

"a barbie" -@reffitt-blog1

"a really big fish" -@crystal-mouse

"a very long hotdog" -@bbcdumbsterfire

[agaypanic]

Regina's Barbie (Regina George X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You’re Regina George’s latest project, but her reasoning for fixing you up is completely different than what you think.

A/N: a little drabble based on this ask that i answered a couple days ago bc it keeps getting interaction and lowkey i cant stop thinking about the concept ugh

***

“Hold still.” Regina scolded for what felt like the hundredth time, hand holding your jaw firmly to keep you in place while she put blush on your cheeks.

“Sorry.” You whispered, looking at the wall behind her so you didn’t have to face her intense gaze.

When Regina approached you one day, twirling her perfect blonde hair around her finger as she asked you if you wanted to hang out, you thought it was a prank. It had to have been, because there was no other reason why Regina George would even consider getting close to a ‘nobody’ like you. But when you stuttered out a response, her grin seemed genuine when telling you to meet you at her car after school. Sure enough, she was sitting in her car with the rest of the Plastics, beckoning you to come over and sit in the seat behind her.

Gretchen and Karen seemed to be a bit confused by your presence but didn’t question Regina. They welcomed you, but didn’t go out of their way to make conversation with you while Regina drove to the mall.

When she parked, Regina basically pulled you into shops by the arm, her friends rushing behind you. She thrusted some sweater into your hands, telling you that you just had to try it on. And when you tried telling her you couldn’t afford it, she rolled her eyes, took a credit card out of her purse, and dragged you to a fitting room.

And now you were here, perched on Regina’s bed while she did your makeup. She had insisted that the way you did it was all wrong and that you needed to know the proper way to do it. Gretchen and Karen weren’t here, which surprised you a bit. But you knew better than to question Regina.

“Okay, now you need lipgloss,” Regina said, looking through some of the glosses she had bought you. She opened one and looked at you. “Pucker up.”

You gulped at the demand, but did as she said. Regina grabbed your jaw again, a bit more gently this time, as she swiped the wand over your lips. She bit her lip in concentration as she stared at your mouth.

“Perfect.” She muttered, capping the gloss and taking you to one of her many mirrors.

You hardly recognized yourself, but Regina definitely didn’t do a bad job. She smiled at you through the mirror.

“What do you think?” She asked, leaning her head against yours a bit.

“I look…” It was hard to find an end to your sentence with the way Regina looked at you, like you were a piece of meat. “Pretty.”

“Hell yeah, you do.” She fiddled with your hair, trying to put it in a style she thought would be more suitable. “Oh my god, I totally forgot. We’re going to a party later, so we gotta find something for you to wear.”

“What?” You were a bit taken aback, not expecting to go to a party tonight. Especially with Regina. “Couldn’t I just wear this?”

Regina laughed, and it didn’t seem like that fake, almost mocking laugh she’d do when people tried to be funny with her. It sounded genuine, like she was actually amused by your question.

“No way, Y/n! Wait here, I think I have something you can wear.” She sped into her closet, leaving you to stand awkwardly in her room. Luckily, she came back quickly with a two-piece outfit. Regina went behind you, hands holding the clothes up to your body. “You’d look so good in this. Besides, it’s better than, like, anything you own.”

She kissed your cheek before sending you off to the bathroom to change. It was so quick that you barely registered what had happened until you were already switching your clothes for hers. You caught sight of yourself in the mirror, seeing a faint lip print on your cheekbone. You decided to leave it, not wanting Regina to get mad at you for messing up the makeup she spent practically forever putting on you.

When you left the bathroom, Regina was fixing up her lipstick in the mirror. She turned to you and smiled a bit, straightening up a bit.

“See, I told you you’d look good.” She took your clothes, throwing them on the bed, before noticing the mark she left on you. Regina stepped closer to see it better, soon looking at you with the same hungry look from before. “Keep that, it’s hot.” Then she walked away to change her shoes.

You took a deep breath. This was gonna be a long night.

***

Part 2

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes ch 9 part 2

masterpost

That whole detour took a depressing amount of their allotted Dick-free time frame. Danny sulked about it a bit as Jason caught up to him and bumped his shoulder. Jason fished his phone out and clearly made a call to a restaurant, giving them an ETA and asking them for the meal Danny had asked for.

Well… Danny untensed a bit. He was willing to look at Jason again by the time that the phone call finished. 

“Wanna talk strategy?” Jason coaxed. 

Danny pursed his lips. “Is anything off limits?” he asked with a shrug. He spread his hands out. “I can fly, go intangible– most of my powers are more martial but those are really applicable.”

“I can’t do either of those things,” Jason said, “So unless-”

“I will just pick you up,” Danny cut him off. He flicked a glance up and down the other guy. “You weigh nothing to me.”

Jason seemed to experience a 404 error. Once he had rebooted he cleared his throat and his voice still came out a little peaky. “I think those things are fair, but we don’t wanna clear Dick totally, it won’t be any fun unless he thinks he has a shot at some points.” He cleared his throat again.

‘....Does he want me to pick him up?’ Danny looked Jason over as sneakily as he could manage. ‘He didn’t let me carry him up the stairs, but maybe that was different because we were play-fighting.’

He filed that very interesting question away for later and took a little mercy on his date. “What strengths does he have, what tactics is he gonna use?”

Jason whistled a long breath out from between his teeth and opened a door for Danny. “We should call Barbie and beg for her neutrality. He won’t go to tech immediately, but tracking us by cameras is always an option.”

Danny snorted and tossed his hair. “Not a problem,” he boasted. “I can short out any cameras in my vicinity.”

There was a moment of silence. “That sounds like it would make it really easy to spot our current location.”

Oh. Well. Heck.

“...Is this the restaurant?” Danny pushed open the door without waiting for an answer, bell jingling overhead.  

A sharp-eyed waiter in black and white saw them enter and indicated the back area with a gloved hand. “Thanks, France,” Jason said easily. He pulled out a seat for Danny without a thought.

Danny shared a moment of eye contact with France. Danny was intending to communicate, ‘Do you see this shit, France?’ France was a cypher. There was no hint of what he thought about this.

…Danny sat. “Thank you,” he said, a little confused by the gesture but pretty certain that this was the best response. 

Jason seated himself and gave him a distracted smile in lieu of a verbal reply. Shit. Fuck. He was hot. Danny flashed internal alarms at this. “Are you still interested in red wine, or would you like something else?” 

“Uhhh.” Danny decided not to say that he had no idea, he was basically copying the romantic date from The Lady and the Tramp. “I’d like to start with a water.” 

“Of course.” Jason glanced over at France, who inclined his head and left in a frankly shocking burst of speed. “I think that Dick will try to leverage the date against me, to embarrass me,” he said thoughtfully. He picked up a saltshaker and started toying with it absentmindedly. “He’ll think that I won’t want the other guys bothering us.”

Danny cocked his head. 

“I was thinking about cutting that out from underneath him, at the last second,” Jason explained. “Dick’ll probably have a couple contingencies around siblings.”

“Yeah, control the flow of information,” Danny agreed. “Do you think you can turn any of them against him?”

Jason pursed his lips. “Yes, but not predictably. It’ll depend who sides with who first. It’s not a fun game if they all play on the same team, so some of them will be willing to fuck him over.” He blinked and lifted his hands as France returned with a pitcher of lemon water and a plate of appetizers. 

It was a very serious war council, for all that it happened to be about the tactics Birds and Bats would use in a game of tag. Danny caught himself leaning forward, elbows braced on the table, to breathe in every word out of Jason’s mouth. 

“Don’t worry about the big guy though,” Danny faintly understood. He was glazing out a little bit, just watching Jason’s mouth move. There was a little bit of stubble that hadn’t been there at the start of their date a few hours ago. Danny wanted to touch it. “No way will they invite him to play, he hasn’t been fun for a decade.”

“Whatever you say,” Danny managed. Unbidden, one hand started to come up off the tabletop, reaching toward Jason’s jawline. Touchy touch touch.

“What- oh, we should take a photo for the group chat.” Jason pushed the food slightly out of the way and rested an elbow on the table to support himself as he leaned basically into Danny’s space. He used that hand to grab the hand Danny had been inching across the table and he gave it a squeeze.

He was. He was holding Danny’s hand again. Danny swallowed, hard. Was his pulse too fast? Could Jason feel that?

“Lean in a bit?” Jason was checking how they looked in his phone camera. 

Danny leaned forward agreeably, brain screaming static at him. He didn’t even bother to think about how he looked in the photo. It must have been fine because Jason made an approving noise and put the phone back down on the table. “I’ll send it to the group chat in about 20 minutes,” he said.

“Ngah,” Danny said intelligently. 

Luckily, the pasta came then.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Smile Like You Mean It 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, bullying, humiliation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Colin Shea, Rafe Cameron (Professor AU)

Summary: you're trying to grow up but you keep getting pushed back down.

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

College is supposed to be a new start. You're supposed to be an adult. Sophisticated and mature. Too bad you're still figuring out how to be functional. 

It's all the more obvious how behind you are as you sit in the student centre with a can of diet coke. Alone. Watching. Coveting. 

The girls, no, women, with their contour and lululemons and blown out hair. They walk together, gabbing and giggling, with a Stanley or branded coffee cup in hand. They are of the moment and you're once more falling behind. 

You look down at you Gap hoodie and polka dot leggings. Admittedly, the Walmart couture isn't exactly cutting edge. And your crocks don't do much for the look. Or your hair and bare face.  

It isn't for lack of trying. No oil or serum could tame the beast on your head, and you couldn't figure out how to line your lids without squiggles. So you settled for the bare minimum. Hygiene and clean clothes. Hmmm, you did wear the hoodie yesterday too. 

You're trying but that doesn't mean it's good enough.  You put your head down and stare at the curled red C on the can. Well, the year's just started, you can make some good friends... just maybe not the barbie dolls. 

As you take another sip of soda, a figure walks by but is met with catastrophe. His bag catches on the back of the empty chair across from you and he reels back. You watch him untangle himself and his pale blue eye flick up to meet yours. 

He wears one of those blue letterman jackets you've seen around. A jock or frat or both. They are often chasing the heels of the glamorous coeds. 

"Oh, hey," he chuckles as he fixes his messenger bag, "I'm a mess, huh?" 

You shake your head. You can't get the words out; 'it's fine' or even a congenial 'so am I'. You can't even muster a smile. That's your other problem. You go mute in the face of interest. 

"You okay? Did I scare ya?" He asks as he drags his hand over his fluffy blond hair. 

You just blink. Say something, idiot. 

"I'm not always mess," he smirks as he grips the back of the chair. Why is he hanging around? "I'm Colin, actually." 

You can't help but crack. Your cheek dimple and one corner of your lips curve. That's a really stupid joke. 

"And you are, sunshine?" He leans forward. 

You look around. It feels off. It has to be a joke, right? There's nothing but milling bodies and chattering students. 

"Auburn," you voice scratches in your throat. 

"Auburn," he purrs back, "I like that." He smirks, "hey, Aubby," his shoulders slant, "can I sit here? This place is packed." 

You stare at him and shrug. You can't say anything but you definitely can't say no. He winks and drops into the seat, dumping his bag on the floor next to his feet. 

"So, you going to the party tonight?" He asks. 

You frown. Party? You shake your head again.  

"No? Why not? Everyone's going." He says.  

Not me. I'm not cool. You just show your hands as your voice stays stuck in your chest. 

"Huh, too good for us? I get it. You got more important things to do than stop by Delta. I can accept that, Aubby. I'm used to it," he pouts, "all the pretty girls say no." 

Pretty? You try not to make a face. You take a drink of coke. You can do it. 

"I... wasn't invited," you utter. 

"Ah, there's that sweet voice," he leans forward on his elbows. "Well, babe, I'm inviting you. So how about it?" 

You stare back at him. Again. Boy, he’s going to think you’re real dumb. You purse your lips and nod. Why not? You’ve been looking for friends. This isn’t going to be high school all over again. 

Well, you can start by wearing something a little less... schlubby to this party. 

He smiles and slaps the table, “see, I knew when I looked at you that you were the one. Here, I’ll get your number and send you the details.” 

You take your phone out and hand it over. The case is scuffed and tan. It’s not sparkly like the ones you’ve seen in the manicured hands of the other girls on campus. He doesn’t seem to notice as he types with his wide thumbs. He gives it back and sends you another wink. 

“See ya tonight, Aubby,” he stands. “I gotta make sure there’s enough drinks so can’t stick around.” He bends to pick up his bag. “You’re not gonna stand me up, are ya?” You shake your head once more. He grins and snaps his fingers. “Later.” 

As he leaves, your eyes wander around the cafeteria. You see a girl in grey converse and a hoodie kinda like yours. She’s not watching where she’s going. She walks right into a man in a suit, her coffee spilling across his back. He rears on her as you watch on as a silent witness. 

He snarls and she babbles back. He stalks off angrily and she stands there blankly. She forgets almost immediately as she looks at the container in her hand. She’s the first girl you’ve seen that doesn’t make you want to hide. 

You get up and grab some napkins on your way over. You approach her as her coffee drips down her hand. You offer it quietly and she flinches as she notices. 

“Oh, jeez, thanks,” she chuckles. “Can ya hold this for me?” You nod and take her container. She balances the coffee as she wipes the side and her fingers. “I’m fucking idiot sometimes. I was so focus on the noodles.” Her eyes skitter around, “shit fuck, this place is crowded, huh?” 

She looks at you as she crumples the napkin and reaches out. You hand over the container. She narrows her eyes. 

“Quiet, huh? Well, shit, I just can’t stop talking,” she tuts. 

“Um...” you swallow tightly. “I got a table...” you point back to where you left your stuff. 

She tilts her head, “thanks, that’s nice but... okay. I guess things can’t get any worse.” 

You perk up and turn around to lead the way. If you can get a few more words out, you might just be able to call it a successful day. 

“I’m Ash, by the way,” she says as she sets her things down and you sit across from her. 

“Auburn,” you return. 

“Ash and Auburn. One more and we could be musketeers or something,” she kids as she settles in. 

[tiredofthehumanlife]

I like Oreos and pussy, yes in that order.

Barbie dolls:Spencer Reid x gn! Reader

Word: 2 k

Summary: you and Spencer are secretly dating behind the gangs backs

Warnings: flights make you uneasy, sex jokes, mentions of you and Spencer sleeping together, mentions of eating, you make a joke within the realm of suicide and or murder but I mean you watch criminal minds so, insinuated with one sentence you're shorter than Spencer but maybes he's like standing on the bed you don't know,

Flights home after a long case were your favorite part. Although it was a bit strange to like something like that, it felt peaceful. You just watched a criminal get put in handcuffs and you all knew there was at least one less dangerous person out there hurting others. You could all rest knowing you did a good job. You weren’t worried about another killer yet. That worry met you at the bureaus’ front doors, but for now, it was peaceful. You also quite enjoyed sitting in the jet with your closest friends.

Spencer rarely shares his couch with others but you made the cut. You’d sit at the foot of the couch and he would throw his legs into your lap. He’d even cover your lap with his blanket. You usually stared at the ceiling or read a book on the rides home. Flights made you uneasy. Even with all the practice you had.

Eventually, after Reid’s nap, you were all piling into the elevator to head down to the car garage. Penelope joined you guys, digging into her purse to hand Derek a KitKat. You wobbled on your feet from your exhaustion directly over the crack of the elevator. Spencer reached out and pulled you into the elevator safely, tugging you to his side. He didn’t really need to, there where no one else to go. Strangely enough, fitting eight people into one elevator made things a little cramped. Spencer held onto your forearm, holding it to his side. It was impossible for anyone to see it, but he still got to hold you upright.

“How do you guys feel about a late dinner?” Penelope asked, staring down at her phone to type out a message before dropping it back into her purse. Emily nodded. JJ groaned.

“Please! I’ve been so hungry since we left the hotel.” JJ said, raising her clenched hands at the sky. Hotch harrumphed.

“I told you to take a snack onto the plane,” Hotch said, glancing over at JJ with a raised eyebrow. You’d seen him use the look before on Jack when he left his coat at home.

“Uh-oh, Aaron pulled out his dad voice,” Rossi muttered, making Derek snort. Hotch glared at Rossi.

“I’ll go, Jack’s probably already asleep,” Hotch said, responding to Penleope’s earlier question. Derek hummed. He tossed his arm over Penelope’s shoulders.

“I’ll come with you, baby girl,” Derek said to Pelenope, kissing her cheek. Emily turned her head to look back at Pelenope.

“You know I’m always in for food,” Emily said, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. Your eyes drooped and you resisted the urge to lean your head on Spencer’s shoulder.

“Hm? What about you two?” Penelope asked, looking over at you and Spencer. Spencer kept his eyes on his watch before shoving his hand back into his pocket.

“Can’t,” Spencer answered. The elevator stayed quiet as they waited for him to elaborate. You nudged Spencer with your elbow. He jerked away from you, rubbing his side.

“Oh, I, uh, have a date. I can’t cancel. We’ve rescheduled three times.” Spencer added, pinching your forearm where no one could see. You glared at him, yanking your arm away from him. Derek slapped Spencer on the shoulder.

“My man,” Derek said, shaking Spencer’s shoulder. Spencer hid his smile, staring at the floor.

“They grow up so fast,” Rossi said, placing his hand over his heart. Emily snorted. Penelope dropped her jaw and stared at Spencer.

“And you didn’t tell me?” She asked. JJ patted Penelope’s shoulder in support.

“So how long have you and this mystery person been dating?” JJ asked. Spencer shrugged, eyes still on the floor.

“Couple months.” Derek lost his mind at that. He did a little hop that made everyone’s hands shoot out for the walls, searching for stability. He gripped both of Spencer’s shoulders and shook him back and forth, once again making the elevator unstable. You pulled away from Spencer, holding onto Emily for support. She kept one arm holding onto you and the other holding onto the handles on the wall.

“Morgan,” Hotch said, his voice a little less stable than it usually was. Derek pulled away from Spencer. He cleared his throat. Slowly you all pulled away from the walls, standing up straight. You still kept close to Emily, not sure if Derek would freak out if he found out you and Spencer had also watched a movie together. How scandalous.

“Ignoring that Spencer totally left us out on important news, What about you? Are you coming with us to late dinner?” Penelope asked. You frowned.

“Rossi, do me a favor?” Rossi groaned loudly. “Can you ask me the same question? I can’t say no to Penelope.” Penelope whined at your words, stomping her heel. You gave her a sad face.

“What? Why can’t you come?” Penelope asked. You groaned, nodding your head.

“I know, I know. But Spencer is my ride,” literally and figuratively. “And-“ Derek cut you off.

“I’ll drive you home.” He said, raising his hand like you asked who would take Spencer’s place. You shook your head.

“Very tempting, but alas; I have a lover awaiting my return.” You said, touching your heart like Rossi did earlier.

“What?! You’re hiding a date from us too?” JJ asked, making Penelope gasp loudly. You shook your head.

“No!” Yes. “I was speaking of my bed. I miss her warm embrace.” You sighed and shook your head, staring off into the distance. Penelope sighed.

“I suppose I’ll allow you to skip family dinner night for rest, but just this once. You’re coming next time.” Penelope said, sticking her finger up at you. You held your hands up in surrender. JJ joined in, pointing her finger at you too.

“And you’re going to like it.” Her ‘L’ in Like getting caught behind her teeth and adding a threatening tone to her sentence. You pulled back, retreating back to Spencer.

“Help me, Spencer. They are acting strangely.” Spencer rolled his eyes. You smiled at JJ and Penelope as the elevator doors dinged open to the garage. Spencer stepped out first. You quickly followed after him, jogging to meet his pace again. The others waved bye to you two as they all stopped by the elevator to decide where they were going to eat. Once you and Spencer turned the corner out of their view, you moved closer to him. He pulled his arm over your shoulders, leading you to the car and letting you rest a little.

“They don’t know right?” You muttered into his sweater. Spencer shook his head.

“No way. Penelope would be the first to know and she seemed genuinely shocked when I said I was dating someone.” Spencer said, slipping his hand under the strap of your bag. You twisted out of his hold, letting him keep the bag. He slung it over his shoulder, the bag sitting on top of his crossbody bag.

“I just don’t want to deal with the paperwork, not to mention it’s actually quite nice not having people in our business. I don’t know how many jokes I can handle from Derek.” You said, stretching your arms over your head. Spencer pulled his phone from his bag. He started typing out a response to a text, probably Penelope telling him he was missing out or Derek congratulating him on the date again. He stuck his hand out for you. You moved back towards him, dropping your hand in his. Spencer intertwined his fingers with yours as he finished his message.

“Yeah, not sure what Derek will do when he finds out about our promiscuity,” Spencer muttered, pulling you back towards the car. You snorted.

“Right, he loses it when he finds out you’ve been dating someone for months, wait until he finds out about the night after we tried to make madeleines.” You said, rolling your eyes. You both dropped your hands and moved to opposite sides of the car. Spencer stopped by the backseat door, opening it to drop both your bags in the back. He swung open the driver’s door after closing the backseat. He dug his keys out of his pocket.

“That was a good night. I’m not telling Derek about that.” Spencer said, settling into the driver’s seat. You followed suit, plopping yourself in the passenger’s. You shrugged.

“I’m telling Pelenope. Unless you don’t want me to disclose that information.” Spencer shoved the key into the ignition. He hummed.

“As long as it’s, you know, praise. I think it’ll be fine.” You smiled, patting his shoulder.

“No, it’s definitely praise, baby. Please be serious here.” You said, snorting and looking back out the window. The ride home was easy. You got a sudden burst of energy when you saw your front door, skittering out of the car to get inside. You pulled your shoe off. You stumbled with the second and ended up a few steps away from the rack. You finally got it off and flung it towards the rack of shoes already there. You watched it skid and knock Spencer’s house shoes out of line. You ignored it and your face planted into the nearby couch, your legs sticking out over the arm. You heard the door open and close again. Spencer slipped his shoes off, leaving both of your bags by the door. He walked over to the couch, slapping your calf.

“Up. Up. You can’t sleep on the couch, you know you’re going to regret it in the morning.” Spencer said, leaning on the side of the couch. You groaned, hugging the couch pillow closer to you.

“Oh shut up, Left brain. Right brain is going to dream of rainbows and cupcakes.” You said, words muffled by the pillow. Spencer smacked your calf again.

“And a kink in the neck,” Spencer said, resting his head on his shoulder. You smirked and looked up at him.

“I got plenty of those already.” You said. Spencer glared at you. He leaned down and slipped his arms under yours. You laughed at your own joke, snorting and smacking the side of the couch.

“Alright, up you go.” He said. Spencer pulled you up, forcing you to sit up.

“Ugh. Carry me.” You groaned. Spencer pulled back and shook his head,

“No.”

“You hate me. You want me dead.” You flung yourself back onto the couch in dramatics.

“No, I do not,” Spencer said, resting his hand on his hip. You nodded.

“I had to read between the lines but it’s what you said.” You said. He knew you were joking. You knew you were joking, but you still sent him a wink to make sure. Spencer groaned and turned on his heel.

“You’re massaging that kink out of your neck on your own in the morning,” Spencer said, walking off the the bedroom. You shot up off the couch, following after him.

“Will you still massage me if I don’t have a hurt neck?” You asked, pulling his arm over your shoulder again. Spencer pressed his lips together.

“I’ll think about it.” He whispered. You cheered and clapped your hands.

“Take that mystery person, he’s massaging my neck. Not yours, loser.” You flipped off the mirror in the hall and pranced after Spencer into the bedroom. He rolled his eyes at you.

“Yeah, Penelope will never figure it out with you talking like that,” Spencer said, leaning down to kiss your cheek lightly. You nodded your head.

Eventually, you were both in your sleep clothes and pulled tightly to the other under the sheets. You slept like a well-rested toddler. Spencer said he woke up with your hand in your face but you told him you just missed looking at it in your sleep. You just felt his face like braille so you could imagine it while you slept. Spencer did not entertain your theory, bringing up the data on strange sleep positions and dreams. You actually quite liked hearing about it and mentioned one of the facts later to Derek. Which, of course, made Spencer blush and hide behind his book.

Really short part two

[nataliasquote]

Double the trouble | Yelena’s day | n romanoff

Double the trouble AU

Summary: it’s finally Yelena’s turn to babysit the twins… a big responsibility for a usually messy Russian.

Age: 4

Warnings: none

wc: 4.3k

note: Double the trouble is back! The twins are back, and so is the cuteness. Sorry for making you wait so long!

-⧗-

“Mama’s got to go, Y/n.”

“Mama go, Y/n go!”

Why was she even arguing with a four year old at this point? Natasha was crouched by the front door, her work purse resting against her calf as she held onto a whiny four year who was pouting hard.

“Aunty Yelena is coming today, you’re going to have so much fun!” Despite how animated her voice was, Y/n was not impressed and she pushed herself further into Natasha’s arms, grabbing the collar of her suit jacket in her little fists. “Come on baby, please.”

“No!” Great. She was still in the ‘no’ phase, much to the moms’ disdain. “No Lena, only you!”

Natasha sighed and stood back up, absentmindedly smoothing over her daughter’s curls as she looked over to the kitchen. Yelena was going to be there any minute and Wanda was packing the last few snack items into her purse whilst Isla showed her a drawing she’d done for her favourite aunt. She was a lot more accepting of extended family members and had been babbling about Yelena’s visit for weeks… until Y/n threw a barbie at her head.

With a sigh, Natasha hauled Y/n up to sit on her hip and wandered into the kitchen with a soft smile at her wife who looked so gracious in her red summer dress.

“Any word from Yelena?” She asked, holding Y/n tight. “This one isn’t too happy we’re leaving.”

Wanda approached the pair and kissed her daughter’s head, laughing a little at her scowl. “Should be any minute now, I hope,” she replied. “Do you girls want a snack?”

“Fruit roll ups?” Y/n was now suddenly interested, her head lifting from the comfort of Natasha’s shoulder. Ever food orientated, she was.

“I want fruit roll ups too!” Isla chimed in, finally putting her markers down as she added the finishing touches to her drawing. “Strawberry one?”

“I’m sure I can manage that,” Wanda said as she turned around from the cupboard, two snacks in hand. Y/n wriggled out of Natasha’s grip and ran over, but not before Wanda instructed her to sit at the table like normal. Snacks were never eaten standing up in their house, it was the paranoid mothers’ number one rule.

Natasha checked her watch anxiously, watching her time slip away as she waited for her sister. Punctuality wasn’t Yelena’s strong suit, but as the clock struck ten, there was a loud knock at the door and Natasha was pulling it open before the twins could even react.

“Where are my munchkins?” The loud blonde announced, tossing her bag by the door and completely ignoring Natasha as she stepped inside. But the redhead was used to people bypassing her and Wanda to get to the twins, she knew how gorgeous her daughters were.

“Hello to you too… again,” Natasha muttered, more to herself than her sister who was too busy trying to call the twins as if they were dogs.

Isla was the first to greet her favourite aunt, her arms and legs flailing as she launched her small body at the blonde Russian, giggling as she was caught and spun around. Y/n was still chewing away at her snack but she watched their interaction from her seat, shaking her head at Wanda’s offer to go and see.

Y/n was bubbly until she was around anyone who wasn't her moms. Then she clammed up, often ducking behind her curls to avoid eye contact or hiding behind Natasha’s legs if she was close by. She didn’t trust anywhere near as easily as Isla did and was always the last one to approach.

“Y/n? Doesn’t Aunty Lena get a hug?”

Y/n’s eyes darted between her Mama and her Aunt, debating hard. With some reluctance, she slid off her chair and wandered over to Yelena, but only for Natasha’s benefit. The last thing she wanted was her Mama getting mad at her over not cooperating… again.

“What are you eating?” Yelena asked, gesturing to the small piece of food still clutched in the young girl’s hand.

“We had fruit roll ups!” Isla exclaimed, grinning widely at Yelena’s animated expression.

“No way!” Even Y/n was smiling now, waving her snack up at Yelena. “I loved them as a kid!”

Natasha smiled fondly at the scene in front of her. She knew how much Isla loved Yelena, she babbled on enough as it is, and she also knew of Y/n’s hesitancy. But seeing her now, almost completely out of her shell, talking over the top of her sister in an attempt to hold Yelena’s attention, Natasha felt pride blooming in her chest and she wished to capture this moment forever.

Wanda appeared at her side, her smile mirroring her wife’s as she took her hand. “Ready to go?”

Natasha nodded and squared her shoulders in her fitted suit jacket. “Yelena, we’re going to be late. Do you have everything you need? We’ll be back at 6, there’s lunch in the fridge, all you need to do is heat it up. And don’t let Y/n run too much because she has her heart check up next week- oh and Isla can’t have raspberries because she’s allergic so don’t-“

“Yes yes,” Yelena waved her off, effectively pushing her sister out of the door. “You worry too much, we’ll be fine, won’t we girls?” Isla cheered and Y/n copied, luckily too engrossed with her sister to notice her moms were leaving.

“If anything happens, I mean anything, call me and we’ll be back as soon as we can.” Natasha was a typical worried mother and she hated leaving her girls alone, even if they were in the questionably capable hands of Yelena.

“Nat, honey, they’re going to be okay,” Wanda tried to reassure, rubbing her hand up and down her wife’s arm. “It’s only a few hours and you need this deal to go through. You deserve it baby.”

Natasha bit her lip, watching the twins who were running around chasing each other in the hallway. She so desperately wanted to stay with them as much as she could before they started kindergarten, but her business in the city was for a deal with a bank that would allow her to open up her very own dance studio, as opposed to the small rented rooms she was currently using. It was her dream and she couldn’t give it up now.

“I know, I know,” the redhead muttered, more to convince herself than anyone else. With a final smile from Wanda, the couple disappeared down the driveway and used the twins’ moment of distraction to make a tear-free getaway.

“Right, rascal 1, rascal 2, who wants to go to the park?” Yelena clapped her hands together as the door shut and the girls halted in their steps.

“Me! I got the wiggles!” They chorused.

“Well we need to get those wiggles out, don’t we!”

Yelena inspected their outfits and quickly concluded that their matching dungarees was an appropriate park choice. She would never admit it to Natasha, but she’d been reading books and online articles ever since Natasha asked her to babysit. Making a good impression was the one thing the blonde wanted so desperately, and she was determined to make sure everything went right.

After tying both pairs of converse to two sets of small feet and retying one of the pigtails in Isla’s hair, Yelena checked her backpack for her supplies and they were ready to go. It was an indescribable feeling to have her nieces clutching her hands as they walked down the street and Yelena finally understood how her sister had such a hard time leaving her daughters.

Isla babbled away for the whole ten minute walk, mainly talking about Fanny and how she wished she was here with them. Y/n listened happily, more than content just fiddling with the rings on her aunt’s fingers as they stopped at a crossing. It had been a month since they’d last spent time with their aunt and almost a year since their first meeting, and Y/n had definitely warmed up to her in that time. Which gave Yelena immense pride and huge bragging rights.

The sun really had chosen the right day to shine and Yelena made sure both girls were lathered in sunscreen before she allowed them to run free, laughing as they both made a beeline for the swing. Isla climbed up on the horse shaped seat just beside the swing set easily, her giggles echoing through the park as it began to move.

Y/n didn’t have quite the same luck. She couldn’t quite reach the swing she wanted and turned back to Yelena with a pout, her hands grabbing at the plastic.

“Hold on malyshka, I’m coming.” The blonde ran over and scooped up her youngest niece, tickling her stomach a little before slotting her legs in the holes of the swing. Y/n’s pout disappeared as quickly as it appeared and she chanted ‘higher’ as Yelena gently pushed her.

Yelena didn’t let her go too high, but she watched as Y/n stretched her legs out in front of her and lifted her arms, almost as if she was flying.

“L’Isla look!” She yelled at her sister. “I’m flying! I’m a birdie!”

Isla looked for a moment but was far too invested in her own activities to care too much, so Y/n just kept shouting for Yelena to push her higher, to which her aunt obeyed.

They were content on the swings for a while until Y/n got distracted by the slide. Yelena was grateful to give her arms a break, even though she’d have pushed her nieces for hours if they’d have asked. Taking a seat on the bench beside the slide, she watched as the energetic four year olds ran around and slid down the slide, wriggling the whole way down.

It was adorable the way they played together, often hand in hand as they circled the giant wooden structure. Isla always climbed up first before helping her sister up the last section, taking her ‘big’ sister duties very seriously.

“Aunty Lena, watch!” Y/n yelled, holding onto the red handle by the little slide as she tapped her feet together. “I’m gonna go fast!”

“I’m watching, little bug, go on.”

Y/n let go and slid down, stopping at the bottom with a grin as Yelena clapped. She raced over, breathing hard, and grabbed her little water bottle to take a sip.

“That was very impressive,” Yelena said, taking the bottle from Y/n when she was done. “Look, let’s watch Isla now.” She put her arms around Y/n’s stomach and held her in place as they watched Isla slide down before she too came running over, asking for her water.

“Have you both been practising your slides?” Isla nodded between sips.

“Mommy takes us to the park after pre-k.”

“And she gets us ice cream.” Y/n flashed a cheesy grin, trying to win over Yelena even more than she already had.

“Well, if we see the ice cream truck, then maybe.” A chorus of ‘yay’s sounded and Yelena felt like the coolest aunt on the planet. It didn’t matter that the girls already loved her to pieces, every time they smiled at her it thawed her heart and she was sure that one day she would be charged with kidnapping for stealing them both. If she barely coped with them now, prom night and graduation would hit her like a truck.

“Can we go play again?” Y/n asked, bouncing on her toes like she was eager to run off. Yelena gave them the all clear and she sprinted away with Isla yelling her name as they approached the climbing frame. Y/n scrambled up the smaller side and whizzed down the slide before Isla could stop her.

“Y/n!” Isla yelled, running back over to her sister who was sat at the bottom of the slide. “You can’t run!” She tapped her sister’s chest where her heart was before taking her hand and dragging her back to the steps. “Slowly. Mommy always says slowly.”

“I just want to play,” she huffed, placing her palm on her chest. “I’m fine.”

“I’ll tell Mommy!” Isla didn’t really understand what she was supposed to tell Wanda, but the threat was enough and Y/n walked away scowling to find the sand pit. It was slightly sludgy from the rain a few days ago so she wandered around the park again before going back to Isla and giving her a hug.

“You play on the bridge with me?”

“Only if I get to be the pirate!”

“I’ll be mermaid.”

Yelena watched from her spot on the bench, her phone resting in her hand as she filmed the girls playing. The park was relatively empty, only three other children were playing. But they looked older than the twins and so kept to themselves, which the blonde was grateful for. She wasn’t all that trusting of other people’s kids.

There was something relaxing about watching them play. It took her mind off everything else and every time the girls flashed her a smile she felt herself soften. Her sister really had won the family lottery and she felt so grateful to be an established part of their lives as they grew up. Swearing off having kids forever, this was the only way Yelena would purposefully interact with children and she was totally okay with that. The best thing about her nieces was that she could spoil them as much as she wanted and then let her sister deal with the inevitable sugar rush that followed.

An hour went by before Y/n and Isla trudged over once more, significantly more dishevelled than they were before. Long gone were the pigtails, their curls now wild about their shoulders, the colour almost matching their rosy cheeks.

“Did you have fun?”

“I think I got a rock in my shoe,” Y/n whined, standing on one leg like a flamingo. Isla went to sit on the bench as Yelena sorted out Y/n’s shoe, shaking the pieces of gravel that were stuck to her sock. “Ice cream?”

“I don’t think the ice cream truck is here, malyshka,” Yelena admitted, her heart breaking at their disappointed faces. “But we can get some at home, how does that sound?”

“I don’t want to go home!” Isla pouted, folding her arms in a little tantrum. Y/n copied her, leaning against Yelena as she stood between her legs. “Want to stay here forever!”

“Are you guys not hungry? All that running around, I’m sure your bellies are grumbling at you.” To prove her point, she tickled Y/n’s stomach, mainly to hear more of the adorable giggles she loved so much.

After some reluctance and agreement that cookies will be provided with lunch, they made the slow walk home. Y/n was dragging her feet, begging to be carried despite Yelena saying no. She couldn’t carry both of them, even if it was evident how tired Y/n was.

To brighten their mood, she started singing an old Russian song, making everyone march in time with her singing as they turned down the final street. The twins had no idea what she was singing about but their spirits were lifted and they marched happily, swinging their arms and nodding their heads as best as they could.

A quick clean up was needed as they got back home to wash away the park germs, but with soap bubbles and a mini water fight, Yelena managed to make even the most mundane activities interesting. She distracted the twins with some colouring pages whilst she located and heated up the pasta dish that Wanda had left in the fridge, instructions written on a bright yellow post it note.

The mothers really had thought of everything, which made the Blonde’s job ten times easier as she sectioned the food onto the twin’s trays. Pink and orange, just the way they preferred it.

With two tired out toddlers seated at the table, hands washed and lunch served, a quietness descended on the house as they tucked in and Yelena allowed herself a moment to breathe. Natasha and Wanda must be superpowered, she thought to herself, because doing this everyday must be exhausting. She couldn’t wait for a nap.

But when was Yelena’s life this idyllic for long? It certainly didn’t last and the blonde had just finished her pasta before she heard the sniffles beginning. Isla looked happy enough, but the same couldn’t be said for the red-eyed and teary girl beside her.

“Y/n what’s wrong?” Yelena asked, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Do you not like it?”

“I want Mama,” she spluttered, her bottom lip trembling as tears rolled down her cheeks. She brought her fists up to wipe her eyes but it didn’t stop them much. “I want Mama!”

“Oh malyshka, she’ll be back soon, I promise.” But Yelena’s words did little to comfort the young girl. “Do you want to eat a little bit more?” Her plate was hardly touched, only a few pieces of cucumber and pasta gone from her portion.

Whilst her sister cried, Isla looked at her own empty plate and back at Y/n’s, the little cogs in her head turning. Having such empathetic mothers had rubbed off on her and she looked at the little chocolate chip cookie sitting on the dessert section of her plate for a second.

“Y/n/n, do you want my cookie?” She grabbed it and pushed it towards her sister who stopped sniffling for a second to nod, taking the treat even if she had her own on her plate.

Yelena had to stop herself aweing out loud and she pulled her phone out as quickly as she videoed as much of the interaction as she could for Natasha and Wanda.

“That was kind of you Isla, well done.”

“She’s just noisy,” Isla answered back, her lips curling up in disgust that looked quite comical. Clearly she hadn’t changed and her sister crying was still just as annoying.

Yelena stifled her laugh and stood up to grab another cookie to replace Isla’s lost one. Her attitude at four years old was a clear indicator that Wanda and Natasha were going to have their work cut out as she grew up, especially combined with her ‘older sister complex’.

Y/n had eaten half of the cookie, the distraction working, before she quickly realised why she was crying in the first place. She locked eyes with Yelena and let the tears fall once more, wanting nothing more than a hug as her active morning caught up with her.

“Y/n it’s okay, it’s okay,” she tried to comfort once more, rounding the table to give the young girl a cuddle. “Why don’t we all go and find a movie to watch, hm?

“Mermaids?” Y/n asked between sobs, holding on tight to Yelena’s t shirt as she was lifted into her arms.

“Isla, do you want to watch The Little Mermaid?” The girl nodded, hopping down off her chair and running into the living room.

“Come on, big girl, let’s go get comfy and you can have all the cuddles you need, yeah?” Y/n sobbed into Yelena’s neck and held on tighter, more like a koala than a child. But Yelena never refused hugs from her nieces, not whilst they were still young and small enough to want to spend hours on her lap.

Isla had dug through the dvd shelf, leaving a mess on the floor, to find the most worn case holding their current favourite film. She passed it to Yelena and jumped onto the couch, sitting beside Y/n who was holding the corner of the soft blanket to her chest with a frown.

“Don’t be sad, we can see Sebastian! And Ariel.” Isla suddenly gasped, turning to her aunt crouched by the dvd player. “Aunty Lena!”

“Yes, lenya?” (Sunshine).

“Ariel has hair like me and Y/n/n! Does that mean we’re princesses?”

Yelena smiled to herself and settled on the couch between the two girls, Y/n immediately crawling onto her lap as Isla snuggled into her side.

“Of course you’re both princesses. What does that make me?”

“The evil queen,” Y/n mumbled, giggling as Yelena gasped dramatically. The opening credits of the Disney movie sounded in the background but no one paid attention as the twins erupted into laughter over Yelena’s expression.

“The evil queen? What!”

“Yes!” Isla squealed. “Evil queen!”

“Your mama didn’t tell me you both are little terrors!” She exclaimed, grabbing Isla by the foot so she couldn’t wriggle away. “I can’t believe you!”

“I didn’t say it!” Isla tried to defend herself, but Yelena was having none of it. “Please, Aunty Lena please!”

Yelena let go of her foot and turned Y/n around so she was facing her on her knee. “Okay then, what about Mama? Is she a princess?”

“Mama always a princess!”

“Okay,” Yelena said, wondering how her sister would take anyone but her daughter calling her a princess. “Is Mommy a princess too?”

Isla nodded frantically. “Yeah! We all princesses!”

“But Aunty Yelena isn’t?” She faked an offended expression, sending Y/n into another giggle fit. Which was a lot better than the tears that had dried on her cheeks.

“No you’re the evil queen!”

“Or S’bastian!”

Yelena paused, tapping her fingers on her chin in thought. “So… a singing crab, or a witch? That’s all I get?” The twins both nodded before Y/n stood on the couch and leaned to Yelena’s ear.

“S’bastian is my favourite,” she murmured before flopping back onto Yelena’s lap, her arms leaning on her chest. Yelena felt her heart clench, why were these kids so goddamn cute?

Only thirty minutes into the film, Isla had stretched herself out along the couch so Yelena wrapped both arms around Y/n whose head was flopping to the side as she tried to fight the sleep. But the combination of hearing Disney songs and feeling Yelena stroking her stomach had her falling asleep in a matter of minutes. Isla was watching, but barely. They really had tired themselves out for today, which made Yelena’s job a lot easier.

The jingle of keys in the door woke Yelena from her accidental nap and her heart shot to her stomach momentarily before she realised both twins were still asleep safe and sound. With Y/n’s dead weight sprawled out across her chest, she could do nothing but wait for Natasha to find her, the overplayed soundtrack of the title page luring the attentive mothers towards the living room.

Natasha had her suit jacket hanging over her arm and her white button up shirt was unbuttoned slightly lower than normal, but she still looked professional in her black slacks. Yelena craned her neck over the back of the couch and pressed a finger to her lips, gesturing to the sleeping redheads surrounding her.

“What did you do to them?” Wanda whispered as both women rounded the front of the couch. “They’re flat out.”

Natasha crouched down by Isla and studied her face momentarily before looking at Yelena with a small laugh. “I’ve never seen them so tired. What happened?”

“I let them run out their wiggles in the park,” she began, careful to not disturb Y/n. “And then we had a little meltdown so Isla picked a movie.”

“She got upset?” Wanda asked, concern lacing her tone. It wasn’t like her to get upset at all, which set alarm bells ringing in the mothers’ heads.

But Yelena quickly clarified that Y/n was the one with the tears, to which both mothers looked less concerned about.

“She just kept asking for her Mama, but that’s probably down to tiredness, right?”

Natasha narrowed her eyes at her sister, slightly unnerved at the calmness that she radiated. Yelena was not a calm or collected person, so this was a weird sight.

“Who are you and what have you done to my sister?”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Shut up. I just did my research, that’s all.”

Natasha went to tease her about it but Y/n shifted on Yelena’s lap, the voices disturbing her sleep. She rubbed her eyes softly before blinking them open and almost launching herself at Wanda with a squeal.

“Home! You’re home!” She squeezed Wanda tight in a hug, the woman melting into her daughter’s embrace as she held her close. There was something so special about welcome home hugs and Natasha didn’t feel left out as Isla woke up only seconds later and attacked her Mama with cuddles.

“Oh my big girls, we missed you!” Natasha peppered Isla’s face in kisses, having missed the way she squirmed in her arms. “Did you have a good day?”

“The best day! I love Aunty Lena!” Isla jumped back onto the couch and hugged Yelena tight, allowing Y/n a moment to shuffle over to Natasha and completely lean against her. Nothing would ever beat her Mama’s hugs. Ever.

“I missed you, babygirl. Are you okay now?”

“Missed you too Mama.”

Natasha stood up and brought Y/n up with her, holding her tightly on her hip as she stretched her legs. She smiled at the familiar feeling of her daughter fiddling with the necklace that lay on her collarbones - she always gravitated towards jewellery.

“You’re staying the night, right Lena?” Natasha clarified, watching Isla’s face light up as her aunt said yes.

“More Aunty Lena time!”

“I think it’s safe to say you’ve won them over,” Wanda added, shaking her head with a smile. She didn't mind what it was, as long as her girls were happy, she was too.

And no one was injured after Yelena’s first babysitting adventure, so there would be many more to follow.

[buckyalpine]

Barbie

Single dad Bucky x reader

Had this idea that I thought would be cuteeeee; Bucky's little baby seeing a real life Barbie doll for the first time.

Bucky's POV "Daddy lets go!!" Bella's tiny hand tugged on Bucky's much larger one, urging him towards the door, determination written all over her little face, "It'll start soon!"

"Alright peanut, I promise we won't be late" he chuckled, letting his daughter pull him with all her might, not wanting to miss a second of the new Barbie movie. He raised a brow at the strength his four year old had when she got excited. It was all Bella talked about since the first movie trailer came out and ever since, the house was filled with every shade of pink imaginable. Bella had marked the date on the fridge, counting down the days though Bucky decided to wait a few weeks before taking her so the crowd wouldn't be too much for her, wanting her to actually enjoy the movie.

"Ready peanut?" Bucky scooped her up in his arms, carrying her over to the car, adjusting the frilly pink tutu she had on so he could buckle her in the car seat. She had been previously unamused at his lack of outfits that would match Ken but ultimately settled on something much, much better.

"Ready daddy" She nodded, straightening out the matching tiara she had placed in on his head, hardly able to contain her little squeals of excitement, double checking the pink heart magnets she'd stuck on his arm. Bucky pecked her chubby cheek before getting into the drivers seat and pulling out the car, just as excited himself to have a relaxing day with his babygirl.

Your POV

You huffed, smoothing out the front of your dress, hyping yourself up in front of the mirror before slipping on your heels, taking them off and putting them back on again.

Then slipping one off before strapping it back on firmly in place.

There was no reason for you to be nervous.

You looked amazing. There was no doubt there. That shade of pink was radiant against your skin. Not a hair out of place. Your makeup was perfect. Yet your heart wouldn't stop beating just a smidge too fast. You deserved this. After a long, exhausting week you deserved a day to yourself to just feel good and relaxed. Yet your nerves were lit ablaze while you double checked your lipstick.

You were a grown ass woman, you didn't need to explain yourself to anyone as to why you were seeing this movie alone.

Dressed up in your cutest matching pink outfit.

You could do whatever you wanted...Is what you whispered to yourself before grabbing your purse and making a beeline towards to door before you changed your mind again. You pulled into the parking lot, glad your decided to wait a while to see this movie instead of going on opening night, noting it was a much quieter night, easing some of your nerves.

You went over to the snack counter, browsing the wide selection of candy, grabbing both sour candy and chocolate before joining the line to have your ticket scanned. You glanced down at your outfit once again, smoothing your a hand over your hair before straightening your shoulders.

You deserved this.

Bucky's POV

Bucky's heart swelled at the little clicks his daughters dress up heels made as they made their way up to the snack counter hand in hand; she was a ball of pink and frills with a tiny purse to finish the look off. She stumbled slightly, keeping up with his long strides, eyes wide taking in her surroundings along with the smell of fresh popcorn.

"What do you feel like getting jellybean" Bucky picked her up, letting her scan the rack of candy while he ordered a large popcorn and soda.

"This please daddy?" She pointed to a large swirly rainbow lollypop, waiting patiently when he set her back down making their way towards the ticket line. Her hand was still firmly holding onto his, a gasp slipping past her lips when her eyes landed on the best thing imaginable. Bucky looked up towards the direction his daughter was staring in, curious about the tiny gasp she let out and what had suddenly caught her attention.

The prettiest doll she'd ever seen. But in real life.

She couldn't take her eyes off her pretty pink dress or her matching heels. She was sure her favorite Barbie doll at home had the same shade of lipstick as hers. She clung onto Bucky's leg as they made their way over, tugging at his jeans to get his attention.

"Daddy! It's a Barbie doll" She whispered as he crouched down to her level, "She's so pretty" He could tell by her antsy squirming she wanted to talk to the real life Barbie boll, itching to take off at any moment. Bucky blinked, feeling his heart flutter, brows furrowing at why it was doing that, stop that.

But Bella was right.

She was pretty.

As soon as he saw who his daughter was pointing to, his own mind momentarily stopped working, only noticing her take off when he saw a blur of pink dash away, making a bee line towards the young woman.

Shit.

Your POV

"Hi" A small voice chirped behind you, leaving you confused when you didn't see anyone near by. Until you looked down. You smiled seeing the little girl behind you dressed in all pink, the tiara on her head slightly crooked, a lollypop sticking out of her purse. "You look so pretty"

"Thank you sweetheart" You cooed, gasping when a handsome stranger, clearly her father, grabbed her into his arms, shaking his head. He had a sparkly gold tiara on his head matching hers, flecks of pink glitter dusting his cheeks, some sprinkled onto his fluffy chestnut locks. You couldn't help the smile that spread onto your face when your eyes landed on the many magnets that were stuck onto his arm ranging from pink hearts to rainbows and the Barbie logo.

"Bella" He scooped her up, blowing a raspberry onto her cheek making her giggle, "You can't run off like that babygirl"

"Sorry daddy, wanted to see Barbie" She gave him her best pout, making you laugh, your own cheeks heating up when he looked over at you with a shy smile, matching hers.

Fuck, he was beautiful.

A whole ass DILF.

You shook your head, figuring he probably had a wife or girlfriend, there was no way he was single.

Bucky's POV

"She's really exited" Bucky said apologetically while you both had your tickets scanned, walking towards the same theatre room, butterflies fluttering in his tummy again.

"It's okay, this little princess made my day" You tried to sound light hearted though you were nervous meeting his soft baby blue eyes.

"Can she sit with us?" Bella pipped up before anyone sat own, giving her dad another dose of puppy eyes and a pout before turning to you and giving you the same treatment.

"Oh-uh-" Bucky figured you would've come with friends (maybe even a boyfriend...hopefully not...), though he didn't see anyone around when you were in line earlier. Either way, he was sure you wouldn't want to spend your movie day with a single dad and his very cute, albeit excited little girl. "I don't know baby-

"Actually, it's just me, I-don't mind" you smiled at the way Bella's eyes lit up along with an excited squeak, wiggling out of Bucky's hold to slip her hand into yours, pulling you to the middle of the row.

"Thank you" Bucky gave you a grateful smile, a tiny greedy part of him happy to sit with the sweet stranger his daughter was enamored with.

****

You adored watching the movie with Bella, leaning down whenever she'd whisper something, her hand often holding onto your pinky through most of the movie. You both made your way out of the theatre once the end credits began to roll, feeling a pang of something again when you noticed your cars happened to be parked side by side.

What were the chances-

Stop.

He probably has a partner, you scolded yourself internally while Bella gave you a sleepy hug before Bucky settled her into her car seat and shutting the door softly.

"Hi again" Bucky smiled bashfully, hoping the pink on his cheeks wasn't too obvious as he leaned against his car door, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Why would someone as pretty and kind hearted as you want to go on a date with someone who came with baggage.....but maybe...

"Hi again" You nearly stumbled over your words, your heart hammering while he fidgeted with his phone, chewing his lip before speaking.

"I wanted to say thank you again. For today. I-I hope this isn't too forward but-uh-to say thank you properly-maybe coffee? If you don't like coffee then something else-dinner? Maybe a date-unless you don't want it to be a date-"

"I'd love to" you cut off his nervous rambling while Bucky let out the breath he was holding, giving you his phone for you to add your number in. He waited for you to get into your car, waving as you pulled out before getting into his own car, surprised to find Bella now wide awake with a cheeky smile on her face.

"Will we see Barbie again?" Bella eyed Bucky curiously while Bucky's phone pinged with a text message from you.

Can't wait to see you, keep the tiara on x

Bucky grinned, reaching behind to playfully tickle her foot before smiling at his phone again.

"I think we will"

[marysdigdiaries101]

NEW INTERESTS

summary: as business woman barbie, you had to be quite serious and uptight about your field of work. so when you couldn't make it sleepover night, which wasn't unexpected of course ꒰but nevertheless꒱ , stereotypical barbie comes to check up on you.

warning/s: top! barbie, bottom! reader, no smut, but it's implied, fluff/comfort, tired reader, talk of depression, swearing, not proofread, pretend they have genitals btw.

word count: forgot to check lmao

authors note: hi hi hii ! first post omg? i just watched the new barbie movie and..im fucking obsessed, i swear i missed half the movies dialogue tho cause i was admiring margot's gorgeous face. anyway i thought what if we had a super stressed, borderline depressed barbie who just needed a break from her thoughts ? enjoy pookies ! ୨♡୧

+ btw men dni.

navigation ! | ୨♡୧

the wheels of your pastel pink car came to a stop in your driveway as you sluggishly dragged yourself out of the drivers seat. another long day, another girls night you couldn't deal with. bright lights illuminated the moving bodies on the vast dance floor, pointed stilettos tapping and turning swiftly as stiff hands clapped and clicked to the music.

clutching your purse, you moved across the dance floor, avoiding flapping arms and desperate kens in need of a dance partner. as you got to the last section of your mission, you felt a pair of eyes on you, a pair of eyes that were too familiar for you to shake off. looking over to your far left you found a set ocean blue eyes staring right back at you. the one and only stereotypical barbie. the perfect one, the main bitch of barbieland acknowledging your presence.

conversations between the two of you were very scarce. with you having a very busy work life and her having none at all, you never crossed paths that much. but living right across from her was a given, so conversations at times were necessary.

brushing off the nervous feeling that had crept up on you, you silently scolded yourself for the rosy blush that had quickly painted your cheeks. once again, clutching your purse tighter, you resumed your journey to your apartment in the lively dreamhouse.

the scratched door creaked open as you released your grip on the plastic doorknob. in any other room you can pretty much expect bright pinks and yellows and lovely colors..but not yours. in fact it wasn't the case at all.

black scribble lines all over formerly hot pink walls, torn up grey bed sheets, deflated pillows, a bedside rug that was once a lovely shade of baby blue now a murky lake green, and scratches, whoever was messing with this room had a no sense for care, as this room, this room was desecrated with scratches and marks.

sighing, you flopped unto the creaky mattress, the back of your knees hitting the plastic bed structure. reaching over to your achy feet, you pulled off the black heels that had been causing you anguish the whole day.

dropping your heels, you unzipped your pale pink silk dress, one of the very rare bright pieces of clothing you had left. flinging it over to the other side of the room, you tapped over to your closet, the once shiny, luxurious white structure, scribbled on and vandalised; stripped of its pride. you looked through the distressed drawer that had been left open from the mornings' rush. music flooded into the silence of your room as picked out navy blue pyjama bottoms and a tight fitted white tank top.

as if by magic (no pun intended) , your desired clothing adorned your slim body as you strolled over to your bed, plopping yourself on it and sinking into the mattress.

thoughts clouded your mind like a raging storm, keeping you a prisoner of your own mind. weird barbie said this would happen a lot more so it shouldn't have been unexpected. but it still hit you like a brick every time the thought of stereotypical barbie flooded your head. her plump lips, the crystal blue eyes that locked you in a trance at the slightest glance and her hair, oh god her hair. you just wanted to run your fingers through the golden curls. you wanted to tangle your fingers in it, you wanted to ruin it, you hated how perfect it was.

you hated her. you hated how ken adored her, how everyone was so goddamn drawn to her, it was like the town revolved around her jobless ass. you wanted her. you needed her. you needed her to need you. but you had your ken and she had hers, and that was that.

the last person who uttered a word about a barbie and a barbie or a ken and a ken was weird barbie and look how she turned out. it's not like you weren't weird yourself, with your heels dropping, thoughts about death, uncanny interests in barbie , your burnt waffles and messed up room and messed up clothes, you were borderline line outcast. you just hadn't been sent to the weird house yet.

'it's only a matter of time though'. you thought shutting your eyes. the late nights and early mornings catching up to you.

it only seemed like a few minutes before you felt the opposite side of your bed sink and a warm hand on your icy shoulder. shrieking, you leaped into an upright position, very nearly hitting your head on your heart shaped headboard.

"jesus! what the hell.." you came to an abrupt stop as you looked over to your side meeting a very dear set of eyes. "look, i'm sorry for barging in so randomly, i know you were sleeping and you're a very busy woman and-" the words mushed together in your head as you focused on her pouty lips. you would let her talk for hours on end if it meant seeing those lips move.

"it's okay." you stated, the corners of your lips turning up. "really? i mean i could leave honestly! it's no biggie..i mean if you want me stay i could?" the icy blonde rambled meeting your gaze softly. "i promise your fine." you assured her shuffling a bit, suddenly feeling very naked.

"so why are you here?" you questioned, sinking back into the comfort of your duvet. dropping your gaze, she fiddled with her velvet night gown, undoing the strings and redoing them. "..well i don't know, you looked more down than usual and you at least make it to the nail painting sessions in my room, but today you missed the whole night altogether." barbie confessed, searching your y/e/c eyes for reasons.

"i know, but-" "you promised." she stated, cutting your flimsy excuse short. "i'm sorry. i've just- i've had some things on my mind as of recent." you explained, your eyes looking at barbies' room across from yours.

“ what type of thoughts?” you raised your eyebrow at her answering her question silently. “right. too far… sorry.” she blushed, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears. an uncomfortable silence filled the room as barbie crossed her legs, moving dangerously close to you.

clearing your throat, you glanced at her figure, letting the image cloud your senses. the curve of her hips to the sharp cut of her jawline, she really was the perfect barbie.

“i have thoughts about death too.” barbie whispered. you didn’t reply so she continued “all the time actually. they’re more frequent than they used to be. i thought maybe someone felt the same way as me so i shared it during the dance party downstairs, but, they just looked at me like i was.. weird.”

your heart rate tripled as you gazed up at her. she looked so.. vulnerable. all this time you had thought you were alone in this paradise. you thought of yourself as the elephant in the room. but there was a chance that the one person you thought was perfect, was just as fucked up as you.

“i’m so sorry, i’m gonna leave now-” “stay.” you muttered connecting your eyes with hers. “what?” the blonde asked, a bewildered look on her face. “i think about death too. maybe we have more in common than we thought.” you explained, running your fingers through your y/h/c haphazardly layered hair.

grinning immediately barbie sat back down, babbling instantly. and you did what anyone would do if they were in that same situation, you stared at her with hearts in your eyes, smiling broadly.

only mattel knew how you ended up sprawled across your bed with barbie straddling your lap, braiding chunks of your hair. who knew depressive thoughts could bond two dolls like this?

“your eyes are so pretty.” you murmured gazing up into her ocean blues. blushing she retorted : “oh shut up.” , but you could tell from her scarlet cheeks and darting eyes that she appreciated the compliment.

“can i kiss you?” you blurted, not being able to hold yourself back. barbie stared at you, her eyes glistening. preparing yourself for rejection you opened your mouth only to have it shut by pillowy lips.

stars behind your eyelids, in fact a whole constellation. gliding your fingers up the small of her back, you reciprocated the kiss as she cupped your face softly. biting your bottom lip, she explored your mouth slowly. sucking on your tongue, she extracted a well deserved moan out of you.

“fuck y/n” she groaned, grinding on you. moaning desperately, you fervently moved your hands around her body as she pulled away. breathing heavily you both stared at each other lovingly. “the others will hear..” she commented, returning to fiddling with your hair. agreeing, you smirked as she looked at your lips.

“i better go then. i don’t want you tired tomorrow, busy work life and all.” the blonde remarked as she slowly stood up. “mhm” you retorted, as you let your eyes wander all over her body.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, sleep well okay?” she stated, looking over at you as she got to the door. “i will.” you grinned, snuggling into your comforter. and at that she giggled as she closed your door, the echo of her voice promising you of better days. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🩰 ꒱ ˎˊ˗