#i can barely even go out for mcdonald's. like

[oozebrain]

Slow burn Art the clown x Reader. Reader is ND, has anxiety, and low self esteem.

Chapter 2 of How Close Your Soul

General warnings: descriptions of food insecurity and poverty, adult themes, drug use (weed), and thoughts associated with low self esteem. Minors DNI.

Chapter summary: With unlimited free time on your hands now, you go on an adventure in the city with your new friend. (Alt summary: you smoke a blunt with Art then go to McDonalds)

Your mind races as you walk. You rose early because you couldn’t fight off the feeling of anxiety. No, it wasn’t necessarily anxiety, you were restless. Art lingered on your mind and you were excited to see him again. You knew this was reckless to meet up with a stranger in an isolated alley, but your curiosity had often gotten the better of you.

You had a ways to go still and couldn’t help but be consumed with worry. What if he wasn’t there? What if something happened to him? What if you approached to find him injured or dead? You barely knew him, but the thought of him succumbing to the harsh elements hurt your heart and made you feel guilty for enjoying your own comfort during the cold fall night. As you noticed the frost on the grass your worries grew.

Winding through the alley, you navigate through discarded boxes and trash cans, overflowing with litter. There are syringes on the ground, indicating a spot for partying. They weren’t there yesterday and you hoped no one had given Art any trouble. You pace slowly back and forth as you survey the area.

You looked around, scanning the dumpsters and rows of cans for a sign of black and white. He stuck out in this landscape, yet he was nowhere to be seen. With a small voice you call out, “Art?”

You waited for a response but none came. Turning in place, you continue to soak in your surroundings for any trace of him. Your worries grew the longer you stood there. The spot he had cleared out to sit was still visible, a nest of sorts, but where was Art?

Behind you, you hear glass being ground into the pavement and look. It was Art, stone still with his hands in the air and an overly large smile on his face, showing off his rows and rows of teeth. His smile seemed endless and the gleam in his eye was disconcerting. You felt your worry and excitement change over into something else, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Whatever it was, you didn’t like it.

He’s wielding a hammer, and he looks thrilled as hell to see you. His mouth manages to stretch even further and his eyes are wide with anticipation. His grip on the hammer tightened as he took a step towards you, to which you responded by taking a step back. This dance continued for a few steps before you stopped. 

Was he going to hurt you? But why would he? Your hands began shaking as he maintained his static pose of intimidating stature. He was merely steps away and loomed over you. He was so tall that he blocked out the sun above and it shrouded his face in surreal shadows. It was as though his face twisted and contorted into a nightmarish entity. 

“Art?” You ask nervously and he gives no response. He doesn’t even blink, and you aren’t sure if he’s breathing. Surely you were not making another poor judge of character. You wring your hands together, “Um... I wanted to thank you for yesterday so I brought you something.”

His eyebrows twitched in response and some sort of fire was lit in his eyes. He was curious. He arm relaxed slightly as it lowered a little. Maybe this was some sort of game? Art was so hard to read, maybe he just had an intense sense of humor. Still, it’s frightening. You swallow hard and continue, “Do... you wanna smoke a blunt?”

He pauses and his smile turns into a grimace. Art is visibly thinking about your proposal. He looks away, deep in thought, eyebrows furrowed and forehead wrinkled. The man looked back to you, then back to the hammer for an uncomfortable period of time, then finally back to you. He made an inquisitive face and you revealed what you were talking about.

It was one your friend had given you. It was half smoked and hard as a rock, but still did just fine. You wave it a little like a tempting treat and his eyes follow its rapid movement. He finally drops the hammer, grabs his trash bag to drag behind, and closes the small gap between you.

Art stares at what is contained in your hand and you hold it out a little more so he can inspect it. He touches it lightly and his face only became more of a confused scowl. He looked at you then waved his hand in front of his face in a grimace, portraying he thought it would stink. You nod some, “Yeah it’s skunky but it doesn’t taste bad. There’s wax in it. Not like, candle wax... it’s hard to explain...”

You think a moment then look up at him, “Sometimes we just need to catch a good buzz, you know? I thought we could smoke and talk, maybe learn some more ASL.”

He perked up at that and signed his name with curious eyes to which you responded with a smile, “Yeah! Soon you’ll be a total chatterbox.”

You look around for a comfortable pace to sit and scope out a spot atop a dumpster. It looks like it was recently dumped and smelled the least offensive, so you hoist yourself up and hold your hand out for Art to follow. He has a much easier time clambering up the side than you did, but he struggles to heave his garbage bag beside him.

You didn’t ask about it. It was likely his only way to transport his possessions, but it still made you worry for him. It could easily become stolen or mistaken for actual trash. Perhaps you would get Art a proper means to carry his things, but that was getting ahead of yourself. Today your rent was due and you were seven hundred dollars short. There was no way you were going to get that much money in time, so you were doing the next best thing- running away from your problems. This was the present, and the present meant you were about to get high with a complete stranger.

“Are you okay with this?” You ask as you show him the blunt. He mouths ‘oh yeah’ a little too assertively and puffs his chest out. Though he seemed confident you wondered if he’d ever smoked weed before. You were become more and more curious about your friend, “Are you sure?”

He nodded enthusiastically with a smile but his eyes were transfixed on the mysteriously wrapped cigarette. Wherever it went his eyes followed. You patted your pocket and realized you forgot your lighter at home, “Damn. Art, you wouldn’t happen to have a lighter by any chance would you?”

Art holds his finger up in a ‘one moment’ gesture and starts looking through the same black trash bag as yesterday. From this angle you could see inside a little. It was a hodgepodge of metal, trinkets, saws...

Saws?

Your eyes widen when he pulls out a blow torch, his mouth stretched in a wide tooth filled grin of glee and accomplishment. He looked so proud to hold it in his hands and his lights lit up when he playfully blew at you with the fire. It should scare you on a deeper level than it did, but you really wanted to smoke.

“Awesome. Do you care if I see it? “ You ask, but he seems incredibly reluctant to hand it over as he hugs it to his chest and furrows his brows in response. His theatrics made it hard to take him seriously or view him as any sort of threat. 

So to the stranger with a blow torch you say, “Art, no offense man but I’m not gonna come outta here looking like creme brûlée.”

He laughs uproariously in silence and slaps his knee. That seemed to have tickled him and you relax a little. Another similarity. Humor. Finally, someone with a sense of humor. Art wipes a faux tear from his eye and obliges, shoulders still heaving sporadically in a fit of voiceless giggles.

You test it experimentally, a small lick of fire coming out the end. You look at art with raised brows and mirror his previous actions by blowing fire at him. He laughs again and offers you one, hardy clap on your back. It makes you feel warm and secure inside. You didn’t know how much you needed that, but you were silently grateful. 

He watched you with visible curiosity as you lit the end and took a deep inhale. You held it for as long as your lungs could stand before exhaling. Unconsciously you hold it out to Art to pass the blunt. Hesitantly, he takes it from you and holds it between the nails of his thumb and index finger.

You snort in a laugh. Who needs clips when you have him? You mime a smoking motion and nod to him, “Draw it into your mouth then hold it in your lungs, but don't—”

Before you could finish he was chiefing it. He took a hit as big as his lungs could expand, held it for half a second, then exploded in a coughing fit. It wracked his body and he held his chest, all of his motions dramatic and theatrical as he figuratively withered and died right in front of you. It was definitely his first time.

You reach out and, after careful consideration, rest your hand on his back and pat as you finish your sentence, “...don’t take a big hit.”

He stills instantly at your touch and you withdraw your hand like you’ve touched a hot stove. Had you crossed a boundary? Were you a nuisance? Did you hurt him? Were you what your boss thought: a predatory creep who preyed on older men? Was that possible?

“I’m... I’m sorry Art.” You offer awkwardly and rub your hands together, fidgeting and picking at your nails. An audible gulp leaves you as you stare down at the ground, too ashamed to look at him. You didn’t know what you did wrong, but you’d certainly done something. 

Silence falls between the two of you for a while. It feels like hours as the absence of noise makes your ears ring and only amplifies your transgression. You finally look to him and see him in the same position, still as a stone and just as silent. After a moment you find your voice, “Art... are you okay?”

His eyes visibly shift when he breaks out of his trance and he finally looks to you. Art stares at you, barely half lidded and the scelra bloodshot and red. He offers you a lazy grin and you mirror it, relief flooding you. He wasn’t upset, he was just stoned!

“You scared me there for a minute buddy!” You sigh as your anxiety leaves you and begin to swing your feet idly back and forth. He sleepily watches your feet a moment before mirroring you, keeping your same pace. Art trails his eyes up your body then meets your eyes, the same lazy, blissful smile spread over his face. He takes another, much smaller, hit off of the blunt, holds it, then exhales through his nose. 

The smoke snakes upwards and plumes around him. He caught on quick. Art hands you back the blunt and you accept it gratefully then taking a greedy hit off it. This time, you enjoy it. You savor it and hold it until your lungs feel as though they are smoldering and flaking away. You exhale slowly, watching the swirls and twirls of the white plumes that flow like water in the sun’s rays.

“So, Art...” You begin, passing the blunt back to him, “what are you into? Like what are your hobbies?”

He visibly ponders a moment, looks you dead in the eye and offers you the scariest, widest smile you’ve ever seen. It reminded you of something you’ve seen browsing the depths of horror forums. You heart palpitates as he stares at you, eyes wild and teeth prominent. You had no idea what kind of emotion he was displaying and nervously averted your eyes.

Art tapped on your shoulder and motions upward for you to meet his gaze again. Nervously, you oblige and find his expression has changed dramatically. He’s back to sleepy eyes and a closed mouth, crooked smile. Art hands you the blunt back so he can use both hands to speak.

He makes a single handed digging motion, adding little details like running into rocks and patting the soil down. You smile at him in kind, “You like to garden?”

Art pauses and makes a ‘kind of’ motion with his hand then waves you off. That isn’t what he was trying to say. He taps his chin in thought, this time creating the illusion of digging with a two handed shovel.  But still you do not understand and offer him a sheepish apology and urge him to continue. 

He makes an arch shape near the head of where he was digging, but that only confused you further. You point at the imaginary object, “What is that?”

Art huffed and pointed aggressively to a pebble on the ground. You ponder a moment then offer, “Rock? Close? Uhh... stone?”

He points to you with joy and nods fervently, rolling his hand and looking at you in giddy apprehension to finally guess the correct answer. But nothing comes. You purse your lips, afraid to say the wrong thing. Art repeats the motion, never taking his eyes off you as he dug in the imaginary hole then made a pulling motion at the air and loading up his pockets. 

You look at him, desperately trying to understand but the concept continues to not only elude you but become more confusing with each additional gesture. You want to know, but if it isn’t gardening what else could it be? What other activities involve digging holes near large stone objects at the head and rummaging through their contents? The only thing that kept coming to mind was digging up buried treasure and you knew that isn’t what it was.

He shares your frustration and sighs in silence. Art throws his hands up and draws a distressed question mark in the air over and over again. You didn’t understand what he didn’t understand. And your confusion made his confusion grow. Your eyes widen and to ease the pressure you say, “I think we’re too high man.”

Art’s eyes widen and he seems briefly alarmed before relaxing all at once and nodding along with your remark. He smiles at you and wipes imaginary sweat off his forehead and lifts his hat to you in a polite gesture. You weren't going to stop trying to learn about your new friend and decided to do a rewind.

“Let’s get to the spelling. So, Art, what does the letter of your hobby start with?” You never thought your limited knowledge of ASL would come in handy when smoking a blunt with a clown, but this life was truly full of surprises.

He drew a G in the air and you repeat the sign for the corresponding letter. He mirrors you then draws several more letters in the air. R... A... V... E...

“Grave?” You ask, tilting your head slightly. Suddenly, it dawned on you, “Oh! Do you work at a cemetery? You tend to the graves?”

This simply cracked him the hell up. He laughed and laughed, holding his hands over his mouth in a wordless giggle as though he were bottling up some big juicy secret. After a moment he nodded with a smile, mouthing 'sure'. That explained some of his strange behaviors. Dead people didn’t talk and neither did he, so they already had more in common than the living. You, yourself, had felt more of a relation to the dead than the living, as well, and found his profession interesting. 

Before you could ask him any more questions he gripped his stomach, brow knitted in confusion. He looked to you questioningly, lips parted as though to speak. He was mumbling something voicelessly but you couldn’t hear nor read his lips. You try to placate him.

“It’s called the munchies, it’s normal.”

But he wouldn’t stop staring at you. His stomach audibly grumbled and he swallowed hard. He was looking at you in a way no one ever had before. He was looking at you like YOU were food. You’re high; you’re feeling bold and joke, “Bro if you’re gonna cannibalize me go ahead, with the week I’ve had I’m ready.”

He stops and laughs, his eyes crinkling into slits as he gets lost in a fit of giggles. His hand didn’t leave his stomach as he rubbed it absent mindedly, still staring at you with wolfish hunger. His stomach gurgled again and he winced some. He hunger was clearly a step above regular munchies.

“I’ve heard people taste like pork...” Your stomach growls at the thought of slow roasted meat, so tender it fell off the bone. You’d always had a fascination with human meat, and one of your current friends had dabbled in cannibalism in their childhood so it wasn’t too far fetched of a concept. Art did not strike you as a cannibal, but if he was that strangely wouldn’t bother you, at least not right now. Maybe you really were too high. 

Without warning, Art slides off the dumpster. His trash bag lands on the ground with a loud, metallic thud, and then he extends his hand out to you. His hand is filthy, his gloves stiff and stained with dirt and some sort of bodily fluid. You weren’t sure what it was, but logic escaped you right now.

You took his hand in yours and allowed him to help you off the dumpster. With effort, you awkwardly slide down and begin following after him like a puppy. At first you struggled to keep up with his long gait but he slowed down so the two of you could walk side by side.

“Where are we going, Art?” You look up at him and ask curiously. He smiles down at you and makes an M in the air in the same shape as the iconic golden arches. The idea of a hot, greasy, barely edible hamburger made you so hungry you nearly dry heaved right there. But then it hit you, “I don’t have any money.”

He waved you off and rubbed his fingers together then pointed at himself smugly, showing that he had money and was paying. But could you really allow him to do something like that? You open your mouth to protest and he holds his finger to his lips to shush you. You relent. Art is going to do what he wants, and if he wants to buy you a cheeseburger then so be it. Perhaps the pair of you could have a symbiotic relationship. You were interested in compiling resources, so this was just part of it.

The walk there was short but simulaneously felt as though it dragged on forever. From the parking lot, you could smell the grilled beef and frying grease and it made your mouth water. It seemed to have a similar effect on Art as his stomach produced a low rumble of its own. With a flamboyant display, he holds the door open for you and makes a sweeping motion with his arm for you to enter. You titter in playful bashfulness and enter. The restaurant is warm and the delicious smell of food envelops you like cartoon smoke.

But people are looking at you, whispering and giving you ugly stares. They’re all pointing at Art and hurried murmurs emerging: ‘is that him?’, ‘what horrible taste’, ‘appalling.

Appalling? 

You realize they aren’t talking about you, they’re talking about Art. You look up to him. He pays them no mind. His mouth is agape as he strums his chin in thought, voicelessly mouthing to himself as he read the menu. You already know what you’re going to get and stand beside him patiently. You give him a few moments then tug on his sleeve to get his attention, of which he obliges.

“Which number do you want, Art?”

He ponders again before holding two fingers up, indicating he wanted the same thing you were getting. You smile, “Great minds, yeah?”

Art offers a small chuckle and nods, lingering behind as you approach the counter. The cashier seems off, uncomfortable, and scared. You were familiar with stares of the ignorant, but this seemed different. She seemed petrified.

“Are you okay?” The cashier whispers. 

You look around and everyone is staring at you. You eye her nervously and offer a wary, “Yeah...?”

“Are you sure? He’s just... he’s just a guy in a costume, right?”

You look back at Art, who is enamored with the toy display, his face merely inches from the bright and colorful beanie babies contained within. You’re too high to deal with this kind of dumb shit right now. Why was everyone looking at him like that? And why was everyone being so mean about him? He was just a guy in a clown costume... wasn’t he?

Art looks back at you and gives a friendly little wave before resuming fawning over the toys. There’s no way this guy was some kind of depraved murderer or demon, he was just a guy in a suit. He was weird, like you. You both had a similar sense of humor and people just didn’t get you. So what if he liked to dress like a clown? You thought he was brave to be who he was and admired how easily he brushed off other people's abrasive attitude.

You look back at the cashier, “Yeah it’s just a costume. We’d like two number twos and we’ll be getting that to go, please.”

With shaking hands, she types in the order. Art is by your side, digging through his trash bag before withdrawing a wallet. He flips through the row of credit cards then hands one out to the cashier. You lived off credit cards for a while too so you thought little of it.

She takes it, trying her best not to make contact with his hand and swipes it. It was approved and she slid it back across the counter, “Thanks we’ll uh, we’ll call your number as soon as its ready.”

She can’t take her eyes off Art as she backs away and retreats to the kitchen. She is talking to what you assume is her manager, pointing and motioning to the pair of you. Seriously? What was her problem. Part of you wants to confront her and tell her to mind her own fucking business, but your anxiety roots you firmly in place.

This display is not lost to Art. His lip curls into a smirk as he returns to the beanie babies. You join him and admire them. You loved stuffed animals and your eyes glitter with wonder. You’ve never seen any of these before, all small little animals. There’s a turtle, a red panda, a giraffe, a hedgehog... so many wonderful little creatures.

“Wow...” You breathe out, “I wish I’d gotten a happy meal instead. I’d love to have these.”

“Number six forty three!” Comes a voice behind you. That’s your number. You happily scamper over to the counter to retrieve your bag and drinks.

“You ready, Art?” You call back to him but he says nothing. He looks at you, then back to the toy display. Without warning, he strikes it again, and again, and again. The hard plastic cracks and crumbles from his blows and it is not long before he is loading up his trash bag with every beanie baby in the display.

You were so dumbfounded by Art’s actions you weren’t sure what to say, or do, so you did nothing but watch and stare. This is something you had fantasized about many times as a child, eyeing the coveted toys in the case your parents could not afford, but you never had the strength to execute it. One by one, each beanie baby was snatched up.

“Sir! Sir you can’t--” The cashier is cut off. He looks back at her with a wide, toothy grin and sizes her up. Even a hardened veteran of customer service isn’t immune to his intimidating stare. He holds his threatening stance a moment before looking back to you and grabbing your hand. He practically drags you out of there, an entire audiences’ eyes on you as you make your dramatic exit.

The further you get away the more the situation sinks into you, and so does the ferocious anxiety. What was going to happen? How was he being so casual about this? Did he regularly steal from their toy display, is that why they were looking at him like that?

As you both tuck behind an old gas station your anxiety finally breaks. Oh no...

“Art what if we get in trouble? What was that back there man? What...”

He shushes you and rests his hand on your shoulder. This time, you still and look back at him. Though stoic, he seems weirdly reassuring. You had just knocked off a McDonald’s and stolen twelve beanie babies. TWELVE. 

“What if we get banned from every McDonald’s? What if we go to jail.” Fear washes over you and it multiplies with the influence of weed, “Art I don’t wanna go to jail. We have to take them back and apologize... no we can’t do that, we’ll be arrested... What if they’re looking for us... Art! What if they’re--”

Art shushes you again and rubs your shoulder gently. He gives the ‘ok’ sigh with his hand and pats you. He begins to walk away but stops as he realizes you aren’t following him. You’re too anxious and a prisoner in your own mind. This is too scary, it’s too intense. Your rush of adrenaline had quickly turned over into a full blown anxiety attack.

Your heart pounded so hard it made you see spots and you struggled to stand still. You began pacing, wringing your hands as thousands of thoughts burst into your mind all at once. What if this is it? You’ve lost your job, you’re going to lose your apartment, and now you were going to jail for stealing stuffed animals... at least this way you’d still have shelter and three meals a day...

There was a warmth against your back. You start and look up at the source: Art. His hand is between your shoulder blades. He makes no motion to move but stays there, silent and strong as his large hand offers you a tether to the moment. You say nothing and just focus on the feeling. His touch felt so deliberate and affirming, it felt meaningful and stilled your trembling. 

You wanted to lean into him, but you weren’t sure if he’d appreciate that. You look at him questioningly and, is if he read your mind, moves his hand to your shoulder and draws you near to him. You remain this way for a while. He holds you in silence, hand gingerly rubbing up and down on your arm and occasionally patting as he tried to comfort you.

It was working. You hadn’t felt this secure since you’d been in His arms: the former object of your affection who now made your heart ache and your stomach sick. You are touch starved and his affection makes something inside you melt. You nuzzle into his chest and he allows this, moving his hand to rest on your head and gently smooth your hair. 

Your hands are too full to reciprocate the hug, but you do your best to return the affection by leaning further into him and he obliges  by holding you closer. The pair of you remain this way for some time. There are no police sirens, no angry mob, and no cashier chasing after you. All of your worries were limited to your mind and, gradually, you relax. Slowly, you pull away from him and offer him a kind, but slightly strained, smile.

“Art... I mean this in the nicest way possible but... You gotta take a shower man. Do you wanna come over to my place? I have body wash and stuff you can use.”

His eyebrows fly to the sky and his mouth forms into a large O. This expression is brief as a wide smile takes its place. He nods happily, his little hat bobbling, and you mirror his smile. You felt good that you were able to help someone out and reciprocate his aid. As the pair of you made your way home with McDonald’s loot, you begin to wonder if this will be the start of a beautiful and peculiar friendship.

[nashishishi]

idk how to explain to people that the reason i haven't been online much is because the school i go to has barely any signal and the home i live in currently also doesn't really have any good signal and there is/was a typhoon passing through the country so it made the signal problem worse, so the only time i could get signal was when i went out on the weekends, but there's been a shit ton of smog in my area recently, either from the abnormally active volcano nearby or from the horrible pollution, both of which render the air quality unhealthy, meaning i get sick more easily because i'm either inhaling sulfur dioxide from the ashfall OR i'm inhaling sulfur dioxide from the pollution, meaning i'm stuck inside my house with horrible signal for most of the day

and the typhoon that is/was passing through the country means that it's also been raining quite a bit recently, and rain + sulfur dioxide = acid rain, meaning i REALLY can't go outside, meaning no signal for me. ever.

also, even when i Can go outside, it's usually just to run errands. obviously it's not advised to go outside if it's not necessary, so i only ever go out when i need to do my groceries or something like that, which means the only time i can get signal is also the one and only time in the entire week when all i do for 2 hours is cross a bunch of streets, run down supermarket aisles, try not to let my wallet get stolen, and then walk back home. none of which are activities that i can do while also diverting part of my attention to scrolling or messaging on my phone

so yk like if i could explain all that in like 1 or 2 sentences that would be great. it's just that if i say "the whole goddamn country (including me) is in a crisis rn srry" and it hasn't reached world news yet, it almost sounds like a non-issue (or just a straight-up lie) if i use it as an excuse

[emmyrosee]

 Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused.  Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫

THIS IS SO CUTEEEE-

Bro this is so long yaLL GET A SNACK- I never had a senior prom this is my venting PFFFFF-

I do want to make a disclaimer! To make this fic work I had to go and use an American based school system, where traditionally seniors are 18, can drive, and eat in cafeterias. For those about to comment my inaccuracies, thank you!

—-

Sukuna has been a little more than preoccupied lately.

He, who once would spend every afternoon driving you and yuuji home, who would blast your favorite music and take you to McDonald’s for a soda, has been more than busy with someone new.

You don’t know where she came from, hell you’ve known the two of them for years, yet this is the first you’ve ever really heard of the being known as Uraume.

“They’ve actually been friends for years,” yuuji had told you. “I’m surprised you never really met her- though she’s pretty shy. Only close with sukuna, honestly.”

Yeah. Real close.

Within just a few weeks, Uraume has snagged your place as Sukuna’s number one. No longer does he stand outside your class to carry your books to the next. Your front seat privileges go to her. He plays her favorite songs. He drops you off at home before taking her to god knows where to do god knows what. And yuuji is blind to this change, merely glad his best friend is sitting in the back seat with him, all the while it tears you up on the inside.

And it isn’t until you catch a beefy hand shift to hold Uraume’s that you realize it’s over. Your heart shatters, your lip wobbles, and you turn your body to face away from the disgusting sight.

“You okay?” Yuuji asks, gently nudging you with the tips of his fingers, and when you look up to peek at Sukuna’s frame once again, you catch his eyes looking at you in the rear view. You sigh and turn your gaze away.

“What’s wrong, brat?” He asks, and you could throw up when Uraume turns in her seat to look at you too.

She looks genuinely concerned, and you could punch her for it.

“Just… take me home, Sukuna,” you murmur.

“But we’re getting pizza!” Yuuji whines. “I don’t want you to miss out!”

You smile and gently pat his leg, “don’t worry about me, yuuji. I’m just getting car sick.”

Car sick enough you don’t car pool with him anymore.

You’re back to taking the bus, curled on your seat to stay out of other people’s way, leaving home about 45 minutes earlier than you would’ve with Sukuna. It makes you skip breakfast and washing your face, barely giving you enough time to get into clean clothes and head off onto the day.

But it’s better than seeing them interact, a crush and potential romance brewing right in your eyesight. You never told him how you were getting to school, either, not in the mood for his attempts to change your mind or force you otherwise.

Until-

“You’ve been taking the fucking bus?”

There’s a loud bark that rings through the halls of school, people moving out of the way for the one and only sukuna to come barreling down it, some looking in worry, others with their eyes rolling in their skull.

You sigh and close your locker, leaning against it, “did yuuji finally tell you?”

“No, and I’m going to beat the shit out of him for not telling me,” he snarls, leaning in close. “Do you know how fucking dangerous the bus can be?”

You roll your eyes, “people take the bus every day, Sukuna.”

“Yeah. Not you. Not anymore. I drive you. You know that.”

“Not anymore,” you grumble. He cocks a brow in challenge and you roll your eyes, “I have no interest in being in a car with you.”

“Who fucking shit in your oatmeal this morning?” He snaps. “You’ve had a punk ass attitude for the past two weeks, what the fuck happened?”

“Maybe im just not into being babied anymore?” You lie. He furrows his brows and licks his lips as the bell rings.

“This isn’t over. We’re not done.”

“I am!” You sing.

You’ve never had a day at school drag like today has.

Classes have never felt longer, teachers have never talked slower, and the clock has never ticked drowsier. It physically causes your head to pound and your stomach to become nauseous, and agony courses though your veins as the lunch bell rings.

It’s only lunch.

You manage to shuffle your way out to the cafeteria to meet your friends, two who cheer happily at your arrival and one who offers you a nod of acknowledgment. You plop down next to Fushiguro and rub your temples.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuji asks, and you flash him a small smile.

“I just don’t feel well.”

“You haven’t felt well in days,” he points out, “I hope you’ll be alright for tomorrow night!”

Tomorrow night.

Prom is tomorrow night.

You scrub your face with your hands, “I’ll feel better once I eat, yuuji. Don’t worry,” you say quietly.

The drumming of Nobara’s nails on the table don’t help the growing migraine in your skull, and you try your best to drown out the noise of so many people and so many thoughts and so many feelings about your argument with sukuna that you feel like you could throw up straight on this table.

Kugisaki grimaces, “I told your brother to be here today to talk about prom,” she says, poking her juice open with a straw. “He’s late.”

“He’s not late,” yuuji says, pointing a finger at a table just a few down. “He’s over there, with Uraume.”

The minute every vowel passes Yuuji’s lips, a shiver trails down your spine, filling your entire being with heaviness and hatred. You don’t dare look over your shoulder, instead you grab a grape from Fushiguro’s lunch to munch on. He nudges the small container closer, and you take another green grape from him.

“Besides,” Yuuji continues, taking a bite of his lunch, “I’m 98% sure Sukuna’s going with her. Something about her friend group and car pooling, I figured we could catch a ride with someone else.”

Your heart stops completely.

The man you’d assumed you were going with, the man you’d been in love with for years, is taking someone else, the day before prom.

“He WHAT!” Kugisaki snaps, and next to you, Fushiguro laces his pinky finger with yours, squeezing softly to keep you grounded. “Oh! The fucking nerve! I knew he was a piece of shit, but THIS?! Oh, Itadori, why couldn’t you have your license!”

“Hey! Why don’t you!”

“Kugisaki,” Fushiguro says softly. “Him being a scumbag is nothing new. But,” you feel blue eyes focus on the side of your head. “Let’s be a little more gentle about this, okay?”

From behind you, there’s a set of laughter that eases its way over the cafeteria, and you wish it was literally anyone else’s, anyone’s other than Uraume’s, and you hate how light and airy it sounds.

How pretty.

“I know for a fact Sukuna’s not that funny,” Kugisaki grumbles, but all you do is pick at your food and silently pretend to agree with your friend.

Sukuna is funny. Sukuna is so funny it hurts, it brings tears to your eyes and your sides and stomach to hurt, and even though you share him everyday, it hurts now to share him with her.

“Man, she’s laughing real hard,” Yuuji says, taking a sip of his water, his head turned to watch his brother interact with his friend. “Wonder what he said.”

“Yuuji,” Megumi warns.

Yuuji chuckles to himself, “it’s almost like they’re feeding off of each other, it’s kinda sweet.”

“Yuuji.”

“-and I mean, Sukuna’s usually not so open and friendly, let alone cracking jokes. It’s cute-“

“ITADORI!”

Megumi snaps hard enough at his friend to make him shut up, and when yuuji finally turns back to face you, your bottom lip wobbles and you play more with your food. Tears pour down your face, as Kugisaki reaches over to rest a hand on yours, sympathy in her gaze. “Yeah,” you sniffle. “It’s cute.” The hand not being cradled by Kugisaki comes up to wipe your tears, and before you know it, your legs stand up and carry you straight to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall where you’re able to finally let it go. You cradle yourself in comfort, eyes screwed shut as you sob every fiber of your soul out.

Kugisaki calls your name once, twice, then she sighs, “come on. Let’s talk this out, okay?”

“I’m not going to prom,” you confess. “Not if he’s going with her.”

“You don’t know if he is, though,” she argues, leaning against your stall door. “And if he is, and he fumbles the best thing that ever happened to him, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

There’s another person that enters the bathroom, and you hear Kugisaki scoff. “You’re like, a thousand percent not supposed to be in here.”

“Bite me,” the voice snaps, and it doesn’t take long to decode it as Sukuna’s. Your hand claps over your mouth to silence your tears, not wanting him to hear you. “I thought she was crying, I wanted to check on her.”

“She’s fine. Shoo.”

“Kugisaki-“

“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” she snaps, and you close your swollen eyes as she defends your honor. “Because we’re not. Don’t act like you care at all about me or her, or her peace or her business. So fucking beat it, before I snitch you out to the principal, then no one’s fucking happy.”

You hear sukuna exhale in annoyance, “just… text me, okay?” He says, and you know he’s talking to you.

“She’ll think about it,” Kugisaki growls. Once the big footprints are out of earshot, you slowly ease your way out of the stall and straight into Kugisaki’s arms, “I know honey, I know,” she soothes, hugging you tight. “You deserve so much better, babydoll. Fuck him.”

“He led me on for months,” you wail. “And he tossed me to the side like a fucking piece of trash. For her.”

“And that’s why you should go to prom,” she argues, pulling back to look at you, eyes soft in understanding. “You don’t need him to have fun- you’ve got friends who are dying to go with you. And you want to make him real jealous?” She asks, and you quirk your brow in intrigue.

She smirks, “go with Fushiguro.”

You sniffle and shake your head, “I cant do that to Fushiguro. Im not going to use him as a pawn to make Sukuna want me again. It’s not fair.”

Kugisaki nods and clicks her tongue, “why don’t you get a note from the nurse and go home for the day?” She encourages, and you ponder the idea in your head.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible idea… to go home and process the day, figure out what to do about prom, maybe even return the dress for your money back. You sigh shakily and nod your head before the bathroom door bursts open again, emerging a yuuji whose hands are clasped over his eyes. “Just wanted to bring you your backpack!”

You snort and wipe your nose, “thank you, Yuuji.”

“You’re welcome!” He shifts his fingers to peek at you, lifting the middle one to make eye contact, “so… sorry we didn’t get to talk about prom.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, ushering them both out of the bathroom. “I’m… I’m probably not going anyways.”

“WHAT!” He whines, his hands coming down to his sides in a saddened pout. “But! It’s senior prom! We have to go!”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I haven’t felt up for it since we made the plan to go. Maybe I’m just not supposed to.” When Fushiguro appears from the men’s bathroom and approaches the group, you flash him a sweet smile, “but I want you guys to still go!”

“Well if you’re not going, I’m not going!” Yuuji proclaims.

Fushiguro shakes his head, “if this is about prom, I won’t go either. We can chill at our houses instead-“

“EVERYONE IS GOING TO PROM!” Kugisaki barks, causing more than a few heads to turn in the hall. Then, she sighs, “we’re all old now. This is it. Our last chance of good memories from this shit fuck of a school. Everyone is going. Period.”

“But-“

“We’ll talk it out later,” you say quickly, noticing the duo of Sukuna and Uraume heading to the vending machines together. “I’m going home. Someone take notes for me.”

“Will do,” Fushiguro calls out for you. You feel three pairs of eyes boring into the back of your skull, but you couldn’t care less.

Not when you’re left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

Getting out of school was easy enough. Working up an excuse that you’re dizzy and need to be rushed home. It’s getting home that sucked.

Before, Sukuna was your ride home when you were sick, cutting classes to get you back to your home so you could take care of yourself and get plenty of rest. Now, you stand at a public bus stop, earbuds in your ears, and you wait. You’ve done this route plenty of times by now, courtesy of Sukuna’s front seat being taken by her.

The ride is quiet enough, your head resting against the cool glass of the window as your phone buzzes violently.

sukuna 💪🏻 Where the fuck did you go?

No seriously wtf

This shit with Fushiguro taking notes for you? The fucks up with that?

Why’d you even leave?

You think you can ignore me?

This isn’t over. Once this bell rings?

I’m hunting you down.

You ignore his threats and let the bus carry you home, your exhausted legs finishing the trip up and into the familiar confines of your house. You’ve got at least two hours before sukuna makes good on his word, and you decide to take that time to take care of yourself- something your heart has been too tired to do since Uraume came into your life uninvited.

After a hot shower, some skin care and topped with some pretty perfume, you make your way to the living room, stopping briefly for a snack from the kitchen.

You put on a movie, but your phone won’t stop buzzing. It’s Sukuna, it’s always going to be Sukuna, and you merely turn it on Do Not Disturb.

If ignoring his texts wouldn’t get him pissed, that certainly would.

But you don’t care. Not anymore.

There’s a ferocious knocking on the door that snaps you out of your zone, and it doesn’t take you long to render the intense energy as Sukuna’s. You pause your movie and shrug your blanket off, making your way to the front door.

Your hands tingle and your heart pounds at the idea of confrontation, but you figure you have nothing to lose as you open the door, revealing an annoyed Sukuna, foot tapping impatiently.

“You think you can hide from me?” he snaps, and you roll your eyes and try to close the door. Sukuna merely jams his foot in the frame to stop you. “Stop fucking around with me, and talk to me. And what’s this bullshit of Yuuji telling me you’re not going to prom?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you say blankly, but all that does is aggravate him more, and he uses a big hand to force the door open more. The act would be attractive to you, had your heart not been torn into pieces by him. “Don’t break my door.”

“Don’t ignore my goddamned texts!” He barks. You scoff and step back inside your house, where he swiftly follows you. “You’re acting like a fucking child.”

“IM ACTING LIKE A CHILD?” You screech, loud enough where even Sukuna’s eyes widen. “Me? After this entire week where you’ve picked your new best friend to cling to, IM THE CHILD?”

“Yes!” He snaps. “What, I can’t have other friends?”

“You seemed pretty content with the one,” you chuckle. “Certainly didn’t need me to keep you entertained.”

“It’s not my fault that Uraume’s been hanging out with me more,” he says, crossing his big arms. “You just can’t handle sharing me once in a while? Are you that insecure?”

This, has you wincing back, his words making you nauseous and tears bite at your waterline, stinging painfully as you finally blink a line down. He takes a deep inhale and cards a massive hand through his hair, “I didn’t mean that-“

“Fuck. You.”

“Look-“

“No, you look, Sukuna,” you growl, hands coming up to shove him hard. “You don’t get to gaslight me into thinking I’m being dramatic, after you’ve completely thrown me to the side and neglected me for the week. You don’t get to make me feel like the bad guy after you led me on for months on end, only to chase after another girl. You don’t get to break my heart, and demand me to piece it back together, only to try and guilt me for protecting my peace! FUCK! YOU!”

“Led you on for what?” He asks, confusion replacing annoyance, but aggregation still in his tone. “The fuck are you spewing?” You reach up to shove him again; this time, he grips your shoulders to make you steady, “are you out of your fucking mind? There is no other girl!”

“Oh, yeah,” you scoff, your voice tight with tears. “You just hold every broad’s hand in front of me. You just rest your hand onto every girl’s thigh, clearly. My bad, Sukuna.”

“I never held her hand, I moved her hand from my thigh, you weren’t fucking paying attention!”

“Yeah? What about not walking me to class anymore? Not carrying my books for me? Not sitting next to me anymore, instead going to be with her?”

His brows furrow, and there’s nothing you’d like more than to smack the expression clean off of his face. “Doll, Uraume is a friend. That’s it!”

“Yeah? Then what does that make us?”

“Everything!” He yells, the plates rattling and doors creaking from the force. The tears in your eyes still as you stare up at him, whimpering and shaking in his grip.

“What…?”

He sighs in exhaustion, “are you so dense you don’t notice just how obsessed with you I am? The minute someone else comes into my life, you’re blind to that?”

“Sukuna-“

“I’ve fought Fushiguro over you,” he continues. “I’ve argued with teachers for being late to walk you to your class. I’ve gotten pulled over speeding to your house to be with you. I’ve fucking been here, wanting you, but I was waiting for you to be ready.”

“Well, you’ve sure had a hell of a time proving it,” you snip, and he grits his teeth to ground himself. “Talking to another girl, taking her to prom-“

“I’m not taking her to prom, I’m taking you!”

“Then why have you been ignoring me!”

Your words are silenced as he grabs you by the chin and pulls you in for a kiss, the broken bits of your soul and heart snapping back together. Your brain stops and your stomach swirls, but your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, keeping him close. He tastes like orange soda and feels comforting like a freshly washed blanket, his band tee getting fisted in your hand as your other one plays with the hair of his buzz cut. He shivers, his arms hug around your waist, panting into your mouth before hesitantly pulling back.

He leans down to your ear, “listen carefully. I’m not taking Uraume. I’m taking you. Uraume is a friend. That’s it. Once I tell her we’re together, she’ll back off, and we’re going to be fine. I’ve been ‘ignoring you’ because I figured you wanted space, but I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Got it?” You sniffle and burrow your face in his chest, letting his big arms wrap around you and keep you safe. He presses another kiss to the crown of your head, and you feel your mind go fuzzy at the moment he cradles you close.

“Missed my annoying brat of a crush. Driving to school was so fucking boring,” he says, and you scoff against him and wipe your nose on his shirt. “Ugh. Ew.”

“You’re supposed to find me pretty no matter what,” you sniffle. “Even if I use you as a tissue.”

“Maybe, just don’t use me as a tissue?” He snickers, and when you loosen and laugh yourself, he gently pulls back to look at you.

“C’mon. Show me your dress. Need to know what color tie I’m getting.”

“You want to match with me?” You whimper.

He smirks, “Kugisaki already hates me. You think she’s going to let us not matching slide?”

“You’re so right.”

[girlokwhatever]

hey pookieeeee, I was wondering if we could possibly get a fic or drabble that’s based around helping Paige unwind after a game? Like reader is helping her take her hair down is showing hella praise. Also a sucker for Paige with her hair down so reader at one point is like “baby, you just look so pretty with your hair down”. Fluff, smut, whatever you write i already know it’ll be heat

-🫧

HEYY BOO!! i got you 🤭

✧˚ · .*ೃ༄⍣ ೋੈ✩‧₊˚ gentle loving,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

you loved watching paige play, it never bored you. when she was at her best, and even her worst, you always sat on the edge of your seat (or stood) cheering her on.

tonight was no different, watching as uconn secured a win against maryland. paige gave it her all, obviously having an overflowing love and passion for the game.

that was two hours ago. now she sat in the passenger seat of your car, still bouncing with the energy of her win as you pulled away from the fast-food drive thru. she begged you to take her to mcdonalds for a mcdouble and a milkshake. obviously you gave into her, only wanting to see her happy. you also thought she deserved it after putting so much effort into the game earlier.

her energy finally wore out the moment you stepped into your shared apartment. the warm vanilla air seeped into her skin, permeating her senses and relaxing her because she knows she’s home. in the comfort of your shared and personal space, she slips her slides off and wraps herself around you.

“lets go to bed,” she murmurs into your hair, her voice muffled and raspy from yelling earlier.

“you’re definitely not laying in our bed smelling like a men’s locker room. you need to take a shower babe.”

“we need to take a shower. together. and how you do know what that smells like?”

she’s spun you around, arching one eyebrow at you. you dodge the question, pulling her back into your skin and walking towards your bedroom’s bathroom. she welcomes the tug, honestly feeling too tired to move herself that far on her own. paige knows behind these walls she doesn’t have to put up a persona, behind these walls she’s just your girlfriend. she doesn’t have to be the paige bueckers, basketball star. she can just be here, with you.

you start to undress after finding your and her pj’s and she does the same. after a few moments filled with gentle love and ginger touches, you manage to pull her into the shower.

“oh my god- that’s so hot!”

“it’s not even that hot paige.”

“you’re literally a spawn of satan. how could you?”

“how could i what?”

“try to kill me while we shower together!”

behind these walls she can be childish with you. she can make her silly jokes and know that no matter what you’ll laugh at them.

you turn the water down slightly just for her. you notice some of the skin on her back is red from the water and you kiss it gently as your own way of apologizing. she leans into your affection, pressing your bodies together.

“your skin is so soft paige,”

you help her lather on her body wash and do the same for yourself. after you’re both clean and free of sweat, you both step out of the shower and dry off. paige puts on her pajama pants and a t-shirt, sitting on the toilet as you reach for her braids.

you’re trying to unbraid her hair but she’s pushing her face into your chest and nuzzling against you. your girlfriend lays pepper-light kisses against your bare stomach as you gently run your fingers through her tangles.

“i love your hair p. it’s looks so pretty when it’s down.”

she stands up to kiss you, gentle and tender. your lips move in unison with hers, soft and delicate. you both feel like you’ll sink into one body any second now, knowing every little thing about the other. paige has felt your bare skin so many times it feels like part of her now.

“have you seen yourself?” she speaks to you between kisses, gently wrapping her arms around your torso to pull you impossibly closer.

“i’ve seen you and that’s all i need.”

after a few silent but sweet minutes pass, you grab both of her hands and pull her into the bed. she happily accepts the new setting, body immediately engulfed in the pillows and blankets.

“do you still have that cookie you didn’t eat this morning?”

“yeah, why? do you want it.”

paige nods, watching you sit up to reach for the unwrapped cookie on your bedside table. she sits up too to pull you into her lap after you’ve got what you were looking for. turning to face her, you open the cookie and hold it in front of her so she can take a bite.

this was a routine both of you had after game nights. each time you’d shower (often together) and then she’d get hungry and you’d feed her. paige loved to take care of you, but she also loved moments like these when you were the caregiver. it made her feel loved. you made her feel that way.

“thank you baby,” she’s speaking with her mouth full so it’s a bit difficult to understand her.

“i don’t know what you said but im gonna guess it’s something about how amazing i am.”

she nods her head lazily, feeling the sleep seep slowly into her bones. she could hardly keep her eyes open all the way, struggling to stay conscious as you fed her the last bite of the cookie.

once everything is put away you lay down, pulling her with you. she rests her head on your chest, wrapping both arms around you securely. both of your limbs intertwine and you gently run your fingers through her hair.

“you did so good today, i’m really proud of you paigey.”

“i love you,”

“i love you too baby.” she’s asleep instantly after the exchange, leaving you awake to admire her in silence. it’s moments like these you cherish the most, knowing that you love paige in both the dark and the light.

you’d be happy to spend a lifetime taking care of her.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡:∞♡⁺˚*･༓☾｡*ﾟ+..·*.✵.·

love you 🫧 anon!!

😘

[jjkarmy091]

Second Best- Jungkook (part 4)

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Note: Thank you so much for your love and support <3 If there is any mistakes I'm sorry. Let me know so I can correct it. Lots of love

After being there for a while, lost in his thoughts, he felt an arm around him. He didn't have to look back to know who it was.

“I was looking for you baby. Why did you leave like that? I mean I wasn't expecting it but I- ” Jungkook interrupted her  

“I saw Y/n just a few minutes ago. She told me to tell you she had someone waiting for her outside and she was leaving. Did you two come with anyone else?” 

“Y/n left? She didn’t say anything else? No, we came alone but got apart after. Maybe she followed our steps and decided to get some action for the night. I was starting to worry for her, I mean who doesn’t want to get laid once in a while?”  

Jungkook looked at Sewoon with discuss and took her arm off of him, paid for what he consumed and started to leave without saying anything else. Sewoon grabbed his hand but he quickly took it out. She looked so confused he started to laugh  

“Sewoon I- did you hear yourself back there? What does it matter if she gets laid or not? Why is that even on your mind? Aren't you worried about her? She left alone with someone neither you and I know. Are you-” 

“Why do you care so much Jungkook. Seriously, she’s an adult. If she left with someone was because she felt safe with that person. I’m sure she isn't thinking about you or me right now.” she approached him more and touched his buff chest “why don’t we do the same, hm. Let's leave, enjoy our night together. I missed you and I know you missed me too, let's -” 

“I’m not in the mood Sewoon. Honestly i just want to go home. This been a hell of a night and one to forget. Are you staying or want me to drop you off somewhere?” Sewoon’s face changed drastically. From a sweet and seductive expression to one Jungkook wasn't familiar with. He wasn't about to put up with it, so he said his goodbye and left on his motorcycle.  

-----------

Meanwhile Y/n, after that little fight with Jungkook finally found Lisa resting near a wall outside of the club. “I was wondering if I had to go get you” “sorry this guy messed with me and then Jungkook stepped in and it was a whole mess and -” 

“Wait wait, Jungkook? A male name you say?” she teased Y/n while she sighed “yeah like I said long story.” They started walking until they reached Lisa's car and got in, when she asked “do you wanna go to mine? Drink some wine, eat a lot of crappy food while you tell me all about this jungkook and what Sewoon has to do with it.” Lisa didn’t have to wait for Y/n’s answer since her big smile said enough. When they got to her apartment, Y/n’s mouth dropped to the floor. It was such a big and nice apartment, so cozy and simple while hers was so small she could barely move, but was the only thing she could pay for.  

Lisa went to grab two glasses and some rosé wine and ordered some Mcdonalds, then they sat on her comfortable white couch and y/n started to explain her situation. 

“It happened one day during winter. I had just started working at the coffee shop. It was very rainy and windy so it was almost empty, just two or three clients max. Sana, my work collegue, was on her break and I was organizing the cupcake counter when I saw this beatiful young guy walk in. I froze. I literally panicked Lisa, you have no idea. He was so gorgeous and I was full of flour on my clothes and face and I was alone at the time so i did what I do best, embarass myself” Talking about this Y/n could feel it like it was yesterday and smiled so lightly and genuinely. When was the last time this happened, she thought.

“Please tell me you didn’t say any jokes involving flour and cupcakes” Y/n gave her a tiny slap in the arm and laughed. "Pff who do you think I am? No I didn't do that, I did worse. literally hid myself under the balcony right in front of him, stayed there for a minute until he made a noise with his throat and asked me if I lost something and needed help finding it”  

Right there Lisa couldn’t control her laughter, placing her glass on the nearest table only to fall on the ground dying of laughter. Once it ceased she grabbed the glass of wine again, taking a few sips “you are unbelieveable Y/n. Thank you for making me laugh so much today. That happens when you revolve your life around others you know? But please continue don't let me stop you. I like where this is going” she mocked again.

Y/n rolled her eyes. Never has she been more embarassed in her life. “You’re supposed to make me feel better” she mumbled. “Well... After that, I got up so quickly that I almost fell. I apologized and said I dropped my earring and was looking for it. The best part? I don’t even have holes in my ears. But he didn’t say anything about it, pretty sure he noticed I was a nervous mess and dropped it before I could make it any worse. He gave me a big smile so I smiled back, asked him what his order was and then -" Suddenly you were interrupted by a knock on the door. Lisa got up and went to see if it was your order, got back inside with it and after settling everything on the table you started to eat. Never a meal tasted so good.

-----

A few minutes later Lisa speaks again “back to our convo, what happened? After you took his order”. Y/n sighed “you love to know everything don’t you?” she laughed “he asked for a cupcake and hot chocolate. He was always very kind even when I was being so weird you know? But he got me so nervous I didn’t want to have any more interaction with him so I tried to stall until Sana finished her break but she was taking so long and I noticed him taking some glances over, so I knew it had to be me. As I reached his table I tripped, leading me to drop the hot chocolate on him--- Gosh I shouldn't be telling you this. You’re gonna tease me for the rest of my life” 

“No wonder the dude got so hooked on you after. You did quite an introduction” Lisa said cleaning the tears coming out her eyes from laughing. “Poor guy just wanted a cupcake and ended up getting a burn”

“Don't even remind me. I thought it was it. I just burned a client and made a mess, I was sure I was gonna be fired. But Jungkook remained so calm, told me he was okay. I helped him and didn’t stop apologizing to him, told him I was new in there but that was no excuse so if he wanted to talk to the manager I'd understand and offered to pay any sort of damage. You know what he did? Turns to me and says I’m cute. I burned him and he called me cute. I lost it” 

“He seems like an amazing guy Y/n. I figure ever since that day he went back to the coffee shop ?” Lisa spoke softly 

“He did. After that incident I tried to avoid him so bad but he would always ask for me to Sana, leaving me with no other choice. We ended up getting close and I developed a huge crush on him that everyone knew about but him” Y/n gaze turns sad remembering the day Jungkook and Sewoon met.  

"So how did he meet Sewoon?” Lisa asked curious. “At the coffee shop. She passed by to tell me that she got in the agency she wanted and then Jungkook walked in. She knew about him and asked if that was the one I’ve been talking about. Then I went to see what he wanted to get and he asked me about my friend so I introduced them. Didn’t expect them to turn out a couple. Not like that . I think I was hoping that Sewoon would refuse, knowing that I had a crush on him and that we were quite close.”

“So she knew and still went for him? That little bitch. I knew she wasn't as good as she seemed” Lisa said irritated. “She asked me. One night she appeared in my house and asked me if I still liked him. I was the one who told her to go for it.” Y/n said with tears already forming in her eyes. Lisa approached her and gave her the longest hug, patting her back. “still Y/n, that’s very low of her. It’s girls code. Did you ever told her no?” Your silence was the answer she needed. “God Y/n I’m trying so hard not to diss you right now. When are you gonna put yourself first? When are you gonna stop behaving like someone else's puppet? Be honest with me, do you like your life?” 

That rang a bell in Y/n’s ears. No she didn’t. She wanted to visit places, have fun, be herself, leave that place she called home and stop working in the coffee shop just to focus on her dreams. She was about to answer but Lisa got ahead of her. “You know what? Take some days off. Let’s have a girls trip you and me. I’m bored here and you need a way out of this whole mess. It’s time for you to find yourself Y/n.” “I don’t have any money for that Lisa. It’s hard for me to pay the rent let alone go on a trip”

“Move in with me. It’s just me in here and as you see, this house is huge. And no one told you anything about paying. Pretty sure you don’t remember but my dad works in an airplane company. Think about it.” Lisa exclaimed super enthusiastic  

Before Y/n could answer, her phone started to ring. She looked over “Jungkookie”

“Are you gonna pick up?”

“No. No I’m not. You're right Lisa I have to start doing things for me. Put myself first" she looked over the window "About your idea, I’m in. Book us a flight. Tomorrow morning I’ll talk to the my manager. I never took days of so it won't be a problem. Let's do it” 

" I knew you were gonna say yes. Get ready because this trip is gonna be life changer" Lisa said making a toast with Y/n. Here comes a new opportunity. You wouldn't less this one miss.

Not anymore

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

Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife

[tan1shere]

Come To Me

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: a lil lot self reflective ? I have a parent that is homophobic, it's a horrible thing but its sadly reality. I got this idea so I hope you enjoy. I notice how protective and caring Billie can get over the ones she loves :)

Summary: it was taking a toll on you, you couldn't handle how he treated you anymore it was just too much, so when you announced your new girlfriend in hopes he'd just understand, that's when things go south.

Warnings: angst angst angst, fluff at the end tho ! Homophobic parent.

Masterlist

It wasn't your fault. But it truly seemed like it. You lived with your dad for years, ever since you were 5, your mother had never been around so it was just the two of you. Everything was great he was sweet to you. That was until you got to the age of about 7 or 8, he started to not care as much. And it was always confusing when he did. You just wished he'd show it all the time. Not just when he felt like it. So it came a shock to him when you first said you might like girls. You were 13 and had a suspicion that you could infact like females.

"Don't be ridiculous. You'll settle down with a man, you don't even know what you want yet."

And that suck in your brain for years, you didn't truly see how horrible he ended up until later on. 16. You had genuinely figured out that you were into girls, you had your first kiss with one that year and it showed you how you that was. That was what you wanted. You wanted to be with girls. Kiss them. Make love with one. But it frightened you, as you were still living with your father, what he had said scared you. You had to pretend that you did like guys. Fake who you genuinely were. It was tiring by the age of 18.

So you decided to move out, be on your own where you wouldn't worry about accidentally saying how you loved women. Whenever you were on the phone with your friend you'd have to make sure none of you said anything along the lines, incase he listened. Incase he heard how 'a wrong thing' you felt was.

Now we are in the present. You had just turned 21, chilling out in your apartment. Watching something random on the TV. You had just been to see your girlfriend, Billie. When your phone dings.

Dad. ...

Hey angel, want to come round for some drinks to celebrate a late birthday?

You stare at it for a moment, you absolutely hated whenever he'd be sweet to you. It always seemed fake, even if he wasn't. It never ever lasted even when you moved out you'd get yelled at for fucking breathing. You couldn't escape it, not once. You take a moment not even sure if you want to, getting a bad feeling about it. But your dumbass says yes. Was it the name? It gave you hope he mightve actually loved you, and not because he has to. But it was never the case. He didn't love you. Unconditional love did not. Exist to him.

The door opens and you see him, he smiles and gives you a hug. But you hated this, you had tried to avoid seeing him for the past few years. You couldn't bare it. It would give you false hope that he changed. But there's no changing. Not now. So if you stayed away you wouldn't have to deal with him, deal with his niceness one day and horrible the next. As if you were a child again. Staying far away was the only option. You go into the house, putting the bottle of alcohol on the kitchen counter. "How have you been." He asks, following. "Not too bad, you?" "Same same." You nod, unsure of how to continue.

He seemed off, maybe he started drinking already. He claimed he wasn't an alcoholic but he really was. He had stopped in the past but nearly every night he'd drink, when you were a kid, teen, and even now. More so that he's retired. "So, anything new?"

I have a girlfriend and I'm gay.

"Not really no."

He nods, trying to find something to talk about. "I didn't make anything, but we can order something? Maybe McDonald's?" Your brows furrow just slightly. You use to always eat that when you were a kid, and maybe on the off occasion now but you hadn't had it in forever. "I don't really eat that anymore dad, maybe some Chinese or something." You then say, fiddling with your rings. "Yeah, that's fine. When did you stop eating it." You think for a second. "Maybe like 4 years ago?" The air was awkward again. Why was he acting as if he knew you. He truly knew nothing about you. Nor did he even try.

It had been an hour or so, you had got food and were trying to find some kind of topic to talk on. You had, had a few drinks. "Well, uhm was your birthday good?" You nod gently. "I spent it with some friends and I got a bunch of nice things too, from them and my gi-" You pause, but your mind said fuck it. You don't live with him anymore you live your own life now. "My girlfriend." He stares for a second. "Is this a new friend or that one you'd always call?" You sigh, he was ignoring the fact. He knew damn well. "I'm dating someone. A girl." More silence. Was it staying that way? Until he speaks. "You said that years ago, or something like it. Youre just confused still."

Something ignites in you. Maybe it was the alcohol or the pent up stress from your job but you fire back. "I know what I want and it's her. I'm far from confused." He shakes his head and goes to talk again but your anger wins, instantly shutting him up. "And no I don't have any interest in men I don't want to be with one. I don't want to marry one. But I think I have you to blame for that because you were the shittiest one in my life." You didn't want this to carry on, getting up and heading for the door. "Keep the booz I'm sure you'll drink it no problem." Now he was angry.

"Dont ever speak to me that way." You swiftly turn around. "Why? Because you know good and fucking well that it's the damn truth, that you're an alcoholic asshole, and a horrible father." Slap.

.....

Your worst fear came to reality. He'd never physically hurt you, always mentally. But you'd always wonder if he ever would, if something one day would really set him off and that was this moment. You hold your cheek as the sting spreads through your face, your finger moves to your nose feeling slight blood. Not much, but considering his strength it would definitely leave some marks. Everything was still. You didn't dare look at one another. "I don't ever want to see you again." You mumbled, but he heard. "Wait-" As if he felt guilty. He did that loud and proud. You just instantly turn around.

Heading for the door, he follows after but you were quicker to your car. "Y/n!" You were gone, never ever wanting to see him again. As you were driving slightly drunk you got a text from work and all you wanted to do was scream. Ofcourse they text right now. Then you got a call. Billie, you answer. "Hi." Your voice was slightly shakey but it wasn't evident through the speaker. "Hey! Was thinking about coming around, just got done with my shit for the day. I missed you." Your tears start pouring out, a sob escaping. "Baby?" You hear her say, you just hum in response. "What's going on you're worrying me." Her tone changed to tense. Serious. Then she heard your car in the background. Making her heart race like crazy. You had your phone on speaker but you put it down. "Pull over." She speaks, but your tears were firey. Your face stung. "Baby please pull over." She repeated.

After she got no reply again, she freaks out. You honestly couldn't hear her, your ears ringing and your mind fogged with everything that happened, you wanted to forget it all. Erase it from your brain. "Y/n, fucking pull over!" She screamed, that. You heard. Coming back to your senses and doing just that into a nearby gas station. She heard the car stop letting out a relived breath. "Jesus christ." She then says. "Where are you, please talk to me." She knew something horrible was up. You never ever wanted to bombard her with your past. Or even tell her about your father.

You told her tiny bits but not everything. Maybe it was time you did. But your slightly drunk state rejected that. "I'm fine, just needed to blow off some steam." You utter, so dry. So cold. And it was frustrating her she couldn't help. She couldn't do anything because she knew you were lying. She knew something wasn't right. "Where. Are. You." You let out a breath. "Talk later." She curses under her breath panicking as you hang up. How on earth was she going to find you. Your door opens as you get out of the car. Your intoxicated mind telling you too keep going. Maybe the sting on your face would ease.

You buy a bottle of whatever, going back out to your car to drink it. But soon the tears just come pouring out. All you wanted was to get home and curl up into bed. So you did, and you had 0 clue on how you made it, your vision blurry from the mix of tears and drunkenness. You had only just stepped through the door when your phone rings, but you had no energy to answer. Plopping your bag down on the floor, worrying about it later. You kick your shoes off somewhere. Also going to worry about them later. You fall to the floor, tears still coming down your cheeks, except this time your emotions had vanished. When yu hear your front door swing open.

Your head turns to see Billie standing there, worry and anger on her face. But the worrying look overtook it all. "What the fuck happened." Her brows knit together, noticing you're crying. "Fuck babe, I was terrified." Those emotions come back, seeing her face. And everything she brings with, her unconditional love. That's all you ever wanted. Was to truly feel that. You sob, heavy. And her heart just breaks, hurts to see you this way. Her hands make contact with your skin. "Did you fall over?" Her thumb swipes the growing bruise around your eye. "Fuck babe." She says more to herself. The redness on your check and the tiny dried up blood just beneath your nose. Your head shakes at her question. "Well you've been drinking, I can smell it. Did you drive home like this?" You nod, really not trusting your voice right now.

"Fuck." She lowers her head. "Don't do that shit, talk to me instead please." You hiccup trying to calm yourself down. "Hey hey, I'm not mad or anything yeah?" You nod "I know.. I'm just sorry." She purses her lips. "Don't be sorry, just talk to me. You know you can." Her thumb soothes over your face again, sensing you don't want to talk right now especially considering your state. "Come on." She softly says, grabbing your waist and getting you to stand. Your wobbly form almost makes you fall back down but her grip tightens. "Did someone do this to you?" Her face was almost back to angry again at the thought.

And when you anxiously don't reply her eyes widen. "Did they?" Your eyes shut for a second. But she drops the topic, taking you into your bathroom. She sits you up on the sink, grabbing a warm wet cloth. Gently wiping your face from the makeup you had on, the remainders that was. Your tears had ruined most of it. You then had the sudden urge to tell her, tears starting up again. "My dad.. He did it. I went to go see him and we drunkenly got into an argument and he hit me hard." Her face drops, hating seeing you in such distress, it hurt her. "S-so. I left and I didn't know what to do and-" You hiccup again but Billie just brings you in for a comforting well needed hug. You cry into her shoulder, letting everything over the years out. And you felt like you could with her.

You felt safe, that kinda safe that you've never felt before. Her hand rubs gently up your back landing in your hair, resting her chin ontop of your head. You sat like that for awhile until you had calmed down again. You tell her everything, sitting on your bed and explaining. "What a douche." She says shaking her head. You nod in response. "Thank you." You then blurt out. She was slightly confused. "What for?" - "For making me feel so safe. You're the only person in my life who does." She grabs your face, so delicately. And kisses you sweetly. You knew this is what you want, what you've always wanted. No man could ever make you feel so safe and comfortable.

"I always want you safe. You mean so much to me and when I heard you driving my heart sunk right down to the floor." You felt awful, you never knew anyone could worry that much about you. "I love you." She then says. And you believe her. You never ever believed anyone who told you those words. "I love you. So much." You then say with a bright smile. "Talk to me in future ok? I was so worried tonight. I just want to keep you safe." You nod, you most definitely were going to. After all. She was your everything, and more.

[seattlesellie]

ok. can we talk about going with ellie to the mall because i think it would be… interesting.

(fluff ‘n a little bit of smut so mdni! 🎀 also wrote this ages ago and it’s so bad so excuse me!!! and reader is v fem)

౨ৎ when it comes to ellie williams— i believe she will throughly let you walk her like a dog. quite literally following you around the shops hand in hand— to the point where you’re merely dragging her around. at first, she’d be super chill and relaxed, but one hour later after seeing you try on the same dress three times already— she’d start groaning on and on. “babe… do we really have to go fucking zara again?”, when you tell her that you just regret not buying a certain top, she’d be so adorably pissed off, her eyebrows all furrowed together, just thoroughly confused. she would probably want to stop and eat some food every 5 seconds. “zara… or mcdonalds” ,weighing the two options on her hands and clearly placing the mcdonalds option way higher.

౨ৎ if there’s an arcade— you know her ass is fully stopping in her tracks, begging you to come and play some games with her. obviously, you oblige, because she’s giving you the biggest and cutest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen, and maybe she’d stupidly jump up when you say yes. she ends up beating you in every single game— and it's so painfully obvious that she’s been there about 17 times already.

“ellie, you’re only winning because you’re here every single day. you’re like a totallll loser” you defend, after she’d been gloating about her winning streak for 5 minutes straight. unsurprisingly, she just denies it. 

“i swear— ive never been here before, babe”

“els, be honest” you warn.

“okay— been here like once with jesse”

“once?”

“once… plus like five” and at that— she turns around, and places her hand behind her back, so you can intertwine it with yours. she’s sooo beating you in bowling.

౨ৎ while you’re browsing through clothes — shed be hugging you from behind tightly, as she kisses on your neck and silently begs for your attention.

“this skirts super cute, right?” you chirp, pointing at the plaid mini skirt and slowly tracing the soft fabric with the pads of your fingers.

ellie has her chaste lips right on your pulse point, and she’s barely even looking.

you pick it up, and she moves closer behind you with her hands still clinging on to your waist. “cute, right?” — you can feel ellie’s smile slowly form on your neck.

“yeah, babe… you’re very cute. thought you knew that already, though”

౨ৎ when you pull out two pieces from the rack (amethyst purple & floral purple) and ask her which color will fit you better, she just rolls her eyes and huffs. “babe… you cannot be serious they're the exact same”, to you, they are NOT. but ellie fully doesn’t get it at all.

౨ৎ put her in a gamestop— and it’s like she won the lottery. browsing through the different controllers, now its your turn to tease and tell her they’re all the exact same. put her in a NINTENDO shop and its literally over. her eyes are twinkling and sparkling, and shes borderline skipping through the store trying to find cool figurines. when she sees a bowser plushie (her mariokart main, duh) she picks it out so fast, and then tries to find you a plushie too— a princess peach or a kirby or whatever you want. she goes to pay, and when you leave the store with your two adorable new plushies inside the bag— ellie fully side eyes you. she has something to say, and you know it. she sighs deeply— “think theyre fucking in there?”

“if they’re anything like us… theyre fucking in there— oh my god, babe… bowsers humping her ass, look” —

she’s literally moving them inside the bag.

౨ৎ okay, so you’re done paying at zara (with her credit card but let’s not… talk about it), ellie left about 15 minutes ago because she was tired of looking at the clothes and she said that place looks like a mental asylum. you’re walking out of the shop with the bags in your hands, and you see her sitting on one of the random mall couches with a random grey haired middle aged man. weirdly, they seem to be in the midst of an incredibly intense conversation. you twist your face because what the fuck and;

“waiting for the wife, huh?” she asks him, manspreading on the chair with her hands resting on her thighs. they’re both staring at the store’s entrance, both sighing heavily. “that i am…” the old man huffs, and ellie chuckles to herself. “me too man… me too”

౨ৎ five minutes later — you find them talking about fucking bathroom tiles.

“i told her i wasn’t going to do marble— but she fucking insisted on it”

you walk a little closer, and ellie is still heavily rambling about floor stuff (?) you have absolutely no clue about.

“els…? ready to go?” you chirp, smiling warmly at the stranger. “gimme a sec” ellie looks at you from the corner of her eye, and keeps going. they’re exchanging numbers because they need to start thinking about how to build a new patio, and he has some “awesome fucking tips, man”

౨ৎ ellie places her hand on your shoulder as you’re walking away, and squeezes. “he was such a cool dude” she remarks, with a stupidly dumb, satisfied smile.

“ellie… he was like, sixty five”

“so? we bonded, babe” she shrugs.

“about floor tiles?” you ask her, and she begins rubbing little circles on your shoulder as you both stray further away from the shop.

“amongst other things” ellie chews on the inside of her cheek. should she say it?

“what things?” you smile sheepishly at your girlfriend, who’s seemingly nervous for some reason.

“you know… his wife…” she bites her cheek even harder now. she should definitely not say it. “my wife” okay— there it is.

her wife.

ten whole seconds of absolute radio silence pass. ellie thinks she might have said too much, but ellie doesn’t know you’re fighting for your life trying to hold on to your tears that are threatening to erupt.

her wife.

“you’re proposing here then, i assume?” you’re trying not to sound emotional, trying not to sound like your hearts about to burst out of your chest and start doing cartwheels on the malls pavement.

“nah… definitely somewhere way classier. like… bora bora, or the food court”

“food court?”

ellie has to stop. ellie has to stop and hold your hand.

“yeah… so i can hide the ring inside your burger n’shit. then you like… choke on it, then i save you… then not only am i a fuckin’ hero, i also get to like… marry the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. and she has to say yes—” there’s no point in swallowing down your toothy smile now. “cause like… i saved her life, y’know?” as much as ellie’s joking, ellie’s cheeks are burning up.

“will you… say yes, though?” she balances her weight from leg to leg, and averts her gaze. mmhm— what an interesting sign!

the way you place your hand on the back of her neck and kiss her hard— that’s definitely a yes.

ellie won’t propose to you in the food court, though. in fact, she has this elaborate plan she has been thinking since about a month into your relationship. that, you’ll never guess.

౨ৎ mall ellie is ALL pda. she doesn’t let go of your hand like ever and constantly needs little kisses on the cheek. she bought you a cute new top? kiss on the cheek. cute dress? kiss on the cheek and on the nose. she doesn’t want you to say your thank you’s, she’d much rather you show them.

౨ৎ when you’re at a lingerie shop… suddenly she comes fully alive. its literally as if someone infused her with seven shots of caffeine and she can’t seem to be able to stop handing you different bra’s, panties, and sexy little nightgowns.

“that’ll look so fucking hot on you” & hands you the sluttiest thong youve ever seen. “that— will drive me fucking crazy” & hands you a sheer bra she can imagine your nipples poking out of.

“wanna eat you out in that” as she hands you a little nightgown and you’re like “ELLIE!” and slap her arm her because a 60 year old woman literally just heard her and looked like she was about to have an aneurysm.

“actually— wanna eat you out in that… and in that too… and in that— oh my god look baby they’re crotchless” wiggling her eyebrows and swaying the fabric in the air.

౨ৎ obviously… she wants you to model them for her. it’s funny, how she didn’t give a fuck when you tried a cardigan on or a hat or saw a cute purse, but now she’s demanding to go inside the dressing room with you and stare you down in the mirror like a perv. she watches you strip out of your clothes and you purposely do it extra slowly, taking your time removing the bra… and now, she’s just leaping out of her sit.

“nope— doing that for you…” she unclasps it, stands behind you and immediately gropes your tits. she gives you sweet little kitten licks and kisses on the neck, whilst maintaining full eye contact with her hands on your boobs from the mirror, and you can’t help but whimper when she takes your hardening nipples between her fingers and rolls them in her thumb. “ellie… were in public” you hiss, bucking your ass onto her crotch.

“we’re not in public, were in a dressing room…” she whispers, like she knows best.

“plus, i gotta test these little panties out… s’for you, y’know?”

ellie makes you sit on her lap to watch it up close, until she’s fully satisfied and is sure that they fit just right, and that she can see herself peeling them off of you. “give me a little wiggle, babe”, she rasps, as her hands roam over your naked waist.

“a wiggle?” you giggle, and burry your face in the crook of her neck.

“like… grind yourself up against me. gotta test the fabric, make sure you’re… comfortable” and— of course you do. you grind yourself up against her thigh until you forget what you even came to the mall for.

ellie’s eyes are fixated on you, taking in your little silent whimpers as you “test the panties” out.

“think… fuck— think we gotta buy them now… soaked ‘em all up, huh?” ellie pants, as she helps you grind your body back and forth. when ellie looks down on her thigh, truly just to watch how your pussy lips swallow the drenched material, ellie comes to an extra conclusion as well. there’s a sticky wet patch, almost heart shaped, over her denim jeans.

“shit… babe, look at that mess…”, she holds you by the back of your neck, and guides your head down. “mhm… gotta buy me some new jeans” your breath cages inside your throat as you begin to stutter, “sorry, el… didn’t mean to”

“oh fuck no… it’s… shit— so fuckin’ hot”

anyways, mall ellie is a menace.

[shitsndgiggs]

„my boyfriend reacts to my instagram dms“ with kenan? 👀 i feel like that would be fun 😭

INSTAGRAM DM’s - KENAN YILDIZ

Kenan reacting to your DM’s

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

I set my phone up on the kitchen counter, hit record, and turn to face Kenan, who is sitting next to me, looking curious yet slightly suspicious.

I have a grin plastered on my face, excited to see how this is going to play out.

“Alright, babe, I hope you’re ready for this,” I say, barely containing my laughter.

Kenan’s brows furrow, his lips twitching into a hesitant smile. “Ready for what?” he asks, leaning back in his chair, already sensing trouble.

“We’re doing the ‘Boyfriend Reacts to My Instagram DMs’ challenge!” I announce dramatically, making sure the camera catches every second of his reaction.

His eyes widen immediately, and he chuckles nervously. “Wait, what? Your DMs?” he repeats, like he didn’t quite hear me the first time.

“Yes!” I reply with a giggle. “Your job is to just… react.”

Kenan’s face breaks into a mischievous grin. “Alright, alright, hit me with it. I’m not scared,” he says, though I can see his curiosity mixing with a hint of nervousness.

I scrolled through my phone, picking the first message that had caught my eye. Clearing my throat, I read, “Here’s one: ‘I’d swim across the ocean just to meet you.’”

Kenan snorted, unable to hold back his amusement. “Yeah, well, I hope he knows how to swim really well because that’s a long way to go for a rejection,” he quipped, shaking his head with a grin.

I burst out laughing, and he can’t help but grin. “Okay, okay,” I say, trying to compose myself. “Here’s another: ‘I’d love to see what’s under that pretty dress of yours…’”

Kenan’s face turns from amused to downright indignant. “Wow, okay. This guy… Just no. That’s a solid 0 out of 10, report and block. Like, does he think he’s smooth? Nah, dude, keep dreaming.”

I can’t help but laugh harder. “Alright, alright, calm down. Next one: ‘If I were your boyfriend, I’d never let you out of my sight.’”

Kenan’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, that’s real healthy. Stalker vibes, much? And newsflash, buddy, she already has a boyfriend who’s got a perfect balance between protective and giving space. Unlike you.”

I’m laughing so hard I almost can’t speak. “Alright, this one’s kind of spicy… ‘You should be with a man who knows what to do with you.’”

Kenan’s jaw clenches a little, and he huffs out a breath. “Oh, please. First of all, I’m that man. Second, what’s he gonna do? Take you to McDonald’s and tell you you’re special? Amateur hour.”

I laugh, nudging him. “You’re getting so riled up!”

Kenan smirks but there’s a protective edge in his eyes. “I’m not riled up. I’m just stating facts.”

I continue with the next DM. “‘I don’t usually do this, but I’d make an exception for you.’”

Kenan rolls his eyes dramatically. “Wow, you’re so special that he’s willing to break his ‘mysterious rules.’ How romantic,” he mocks. “Dude, get in line with the other guys who think they’re original.”

I shake my head, biting back more laughter. “Okay, here’s a bold one: ‘If you ever get tired of that guy you’re with, I’d love to show you a real good time.’”

Kenan’s face darkens with jealousy. “A real good time?” he echoes. “Listen, man, her idea of a good time is binge-watching series in her PJs, with snacks and cuddles. And trust me, I’m the best at that.”

I giggle, loving his serious expression. “Alright, last one. And this one… oh boy. ‘‘I’d give up my whole life just for one date with you.’”

Kenan’s eyebrows shot up, and he leaned forward, his expression full of mock concern. “Oh, buddy,” he said, pretending to look sad. “That’s… that’s just sad. I mean, at least aim for two dates. Show some confidence!”

I giggle a little at that, smiling softly. “Okay, you survived… barely.”

Kenan grins, still a little worked up but leaning back in his chair. “Oh, I did more than survive. I won. And these guys… they don’t even come close. Not even in the same universe.”

I lean closer, feeling the warmth in his voice, and he mirrors my movement, his lips brushing mine in a soft, sweet kiss that seems to erase all the silly DMs from memory.

As we pull back, Kenan gives a playful smirk. “You know, I think next time we should go through my DMs… just to be fair.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “No way, I’m not ready for that kind of drama.”

He chuckles, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Good. Because I have nothing to hide. And besides,” he leans in closer, whispering just for me, “you’re the only girl that matters.”

[lavendertom]

The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 1

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

wc: 1.9k

warnings: none! maybe small age gap (reader is 20, mike is like 23/24 ?) lmk if there’s something i missed by chance

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings. pt. 1 of a multi part series!

could be seen as a prequel to my first work My Favorite Prize, but wasn’t written with the intention :) hopefully this doesn’t feel too long, i promise it gets better in pt 2! mostly exposition here 😌

——————————————————————————

College was not the experience you’d expected at all. You lived at home deciding to attend community college, and you didn’t have many friends or the ‘college experience’ everyone else was having. You were lonely, but at least you went to bed in your own room every night rather than sharing a tiny dorm with an annoying roommate and zero privacy.

“I think I found a job for you, y/n.” you heard your mom say as you walked in the door, barely crossing the threshold.

She had been begging you to find a job for months now. You had an agreement with your parents that freshman year you would focus on your studies, but sophomore year you had to step up and start helping balance the burden of college tuition. It was now spring semester of sophomore year and you still had no job.

“Don’t hand me another McDonalds application, please.” you said with a sigh as you placed your keys and bag on the dining room table.

“You know the neighbor across the street, Mike?” you felt your heart drop with the mention of his name. How could you not know the neighbor across the street.

He immediately caught your attention the day he moved in with his sister. You knew he was a few years older than you, he wasn’t in school and he was constantly working. He was nice. Although, you’d never truly spoken to him besides introducing yourself back when he initially moved in and you were just a junior in high school. Your parents often helped him keep up with yard work when things got especially hard. Everyone knew they were struggling, it wasn’t that hard to tell.

“Yeah, I remember him.” Of course I remember Mike. He’s the neighbor that I’ve found a little too attractive since he moved in.

“I saw him this morning before work, he was telling me they’ve been in a really bad place lately. Abby’s babysitter quit, so I might’ve offered for you to stop by and help a few times a week.” your mother said, saying it as fast as possible so you couldn’t object.

“Really, mom?” you said sounding annoyed. “You couldn’t have talked to me about this before throwing me into it?”

“Listen, it won’t be that bad. I told him you’d stop by after dinner to just try it out, no commitment. He’ll be there while you just hang out with Abby for a few hours, you know how she is.” Abby was a sweet kid, just a little quieter than other kids her age.

“Okay fine, I’ll go. No promises this will work out.” You replied as you walked to your room, mentally preparing yourself for the evening ahead of you.

An hour later you found yourself at the doorstep of the Schmidt’s. You hesitantly raised your hand to knock on the door. You waited a moment until the door swung open.

You saw Mike standing in front of you and he honestly looked like a mess. His dark hair was all over the place and his eyes looked tired as can be. He was wearing a black hoodie, the front pocket was falling apart, and jeans that had dirt stains all over the front.

“Hey, y/n, right?” he said.

“Yeah, my mom told me you needed someone to help look after Abby.” you said, getting a good look at his eyes. This was the first time you’d ever seen them in detail. They were brown with a few specks of green and hazel in them. They were actually pretty nice to look at.

“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle, “I didn’t intend on accidentally hiring you for this. Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s totally fine.” you said chuckling yourself, looking down at your hands. “I’ve been needing a job, so it’s kind of a blessing in disguise.”

“You’re in college right? You’re studying… what was it again?” your mom must’ve really given him the rundown.

”Cybersecurity, second year.” you said with a small smile, blush creeping up on your face. You never got used to people complimenting your accomplishments even though you had been an honors student since 3rd grade.

“Right, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks.” you said, smiling sheepishly.

“Anyways, feel free to come in, Abby should be somewhere around here.” he said as he moved out of the doorway, welcoming you into the home.

The house looked cleaner than you’d expected, given the state of the outside of it. It was pretty ordinary and plain. He walked towards the living room, where you could see Abby laying on the ground. There was a TV in front of her playing some kind of old cartoon. An assortment of crayons, markers, and other art supplies were sprawled all across the ground.

“Hey Abs, I want you to meet someone.” Mike said to the young girl. You walked over to stand beside him. “This is y/n, she’s going to hang out with you for a bit today, okay?”

“Hi Abby, it’s nice to meet you!” you said with a smile.

Abby looked at Mike as he spoke, then looked at you, back at Mike again, before finally going back to whatever she was drawing earlier.

“She’s gonna be a little shy at first.” he whispered to you. “Once you start talking to her she should hopefully open up a bit. I’m gonna catch up on some stuff around the house if you need anything.” he gave you a reassuring smile before walking away.

“What kind of drawing is that?” you said in an attempt to start conversation with the girl. She looked at you for a moment before looking back down. This is going to be a long night.

You decided that your initial approach wasn’t going to work. So, you got down to her level. You sat down next to her on the ground, grabbing a piece of paper and marker.

“I like drawing too, you know. Give me the name of any cartoon character and I can draw it for you.” you said softly.

She gave you a side eye, before turning her head towards your face. “Any character?”

“Yup, any character.” you said with a smile.

“Felix the Cat.” she said just before turning her attention back to the paper in front of her. This girl knows her stuff.

After a few minutes of sketching the character, you set the paper down in front of her. She paused her own work, taking the paper into her hands. She looked at you again.

“Can you draw Yogi Bear?” She commented while still looking at the sketch in her hands, sitting up just a bit straighter.

“Sure.” you said before grabbing more paper and markers.

Before you knew it, there was a large stack of drawings from the two of you featuring all sorts of characters ranging from Mickey Mouse to the Powerpuff Girls. The two of you had been doodling for almost 3 hours now, pausing every so often to talk about why they chose the characters they chose. The two of you were now discussing your favorite drawings of the night.

“I think my favorite is…” Abby began before thinking for a moment, “Courage the Cowardly Dog.”

“That’s a good one. Look at how good your drawing is!” you said to the young girl as you both laid on the ground flipping through the pages of art.

“Not as good as yours y/n!” Abby said to you, holding a stack of her favorites in her hands.

The two of you continued your conversation as Mike returned back to check in on you guys. He was genuinely surprised at how quickly Abby opened up to your company. He stood out of the girls sights for just a moment longer, taking in the sounds of laughter coming from both his sister and you.

“Hey Abs, it’s getting late, you wanna get ready for bed?” he said as he walked into the room.

“Mikeee!” Abby whined. “I’m having so much fun with y/n. Please can I stay up a little longer?”

“It’s okay Abby, I’ll be back again soon and we can do it all over again.” you reassured the girl with a smile.

“Do you promise?” she asked you.

“I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Of course!” you said with a laugh, pinky promising that you’d be back. Mike watched the interaction unfold with a smile.

“Alright, go get ready for bed, I’ll come tuck you in soon.” Mike told his sister.

“Bye y/n!” Abby shouted as she made her way to her room.

“So, how was she?” Mike asked you as you stood up from the floor, attempting to tidy up some of the mess you both made.

“Great, actually. I thought she adjusted fairly quickly. You’ve got quite the picasso on your hands.” you said as you quickly gestured to the now extremely messy floor.

“It’s one of the only things that keeps her entertained.” he said with a small chuckle. “But in all seriousness, I can tell she really trusts you. She hasn’t had a babysitter who actually cared for her like this in a while.”

“It was fun, I’m glad it seemed like she had a good time.” you said with a smile. “So when do you think you’ll need me here again?”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“No that’s perfect. Already looking forward to it.”

“You know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, y/n.”

“Seriously, I’m happy to help. I really did have a great time with Abby.”

“Tomorrow it is then.” he said before shuffling through his pockets for a few dollars, attempting to hand you them. “Here, take this for coming on such short notice.”

“Mike, it’s fine. I really don’t mind. You need it more than I do.” you said with a small smile.

“You sure?” he said, almost as if he had to convince himself it was okay.

“I’m sure.” you said as you headed towards the front door. “I think I’m gonna head out now.”

“Thanks again, y/n.” he said through the door as you walked out, the cool night air hitting your face.

“Of course, anytime. See you tomorrow.” you said with a small wave. You walked home with a different feeling inside. You knew taking this little job to help out the neighbor you never attempted to truly get to know was gonna be fun.

Mike shut the door after making sure you crossed the street safely, making his way to Abby’s room.

“Y/n is really fun, Mike.” she said as she pulled the covers over her body.

“That’s good, Abs.” he said as he grabbed one of her favorite teddy bears, handing it to her.

“I think we’re going to be best friends.” she said smiling at the new assortment of drawings she already managed to tape to her walls.

“You be nice to her, okay Abby?” he said to her. “I know how you can get, don’t screw this one up.”

“Okay Mike.” she said groaning, rolling her eyes slightly.

He shut off the lamp next to her bed, giving his sister a small kiss on the forehead. “Goodnight, Abby.”

He shut the door to Abby’s room, making his way back to the living room floor to clean up the mess that was still there. He grabbed one of the left over papers, admiring the assortment of characters on the paper. Right in the middle of it all were two stick figures which could only be assumed to be you and Abby.

He smiled at it, recognizing he had a good feeling about this babysitter. Not only because of how it could help Abby, but because he finally got the neighbor girl to break out of her own shell. Maybe it could even help him too.

[makethemhoesmad]

first sight

dancing with our hands tied part one!

paige bueckers x reader

—

brooke’s pov

“holy shit brooke,” taniya shouts from her room. 

“what,” i yell back. it’s a questionable method of communication, but it works for us. i hear her footsteps clambering towards my room, then my door bursts open and taniya, my five-foot-barely anything roomate flings herself onto my bed.

“paige FUCKING bueckers commented on your post and all you did was like it? i thought i taught you better than this, bee,” taniya says, shaking her head at me.

“well, it’s not like-“

“HOLD ON,” taniya cuts me off, “she liked this comment saying ��the spine tattoo…my god’ brooklyn mae johns she’s fucking in love with you.”

i roll my eyes at taniya’s wild predictions, which aren’t new to our friendship. “first of all, my name isn’t even brooklyn, second of all, wait, check my phone, who’s that message from?”

taniya picks up my phone, reads something, then screams at the top of her lungs and chucks my phone at me.

Paige💕

Hey was just wondering what college you went to?

i stare blankly at the screen, starstruck. taniya nudges me, motioning at the phone to respond.

Brookee🐝

Uconn, like you. 

Paige💕

Oh shit really? I didn’t know you knew so much about me😏

“is she really tryna flirt with me IN MY DMS right now?” i say out loud. taniya giggles.

“no shit sherlock, that’s why she slid into your dms. tell her you like basketball or something!”

Brookee🐝

i mean, i like basketball and my dorm isn’t that far from gampel. the mcdonald’s like twenty minutes away is like ten times cooler tho.

“you sneaky shit,” taniya snickers.

Paige💕

Fr you should meet me there in like 30.

Brookee🐝 

No shit?

Paige💕

Yeah i’ll see ya then

i swipe out of instagram and start pacing around my room, opening drawers and holding things up to my body.

“bee, cool it. paige is about to show up in team travel gear, so your sweatpants and cute ass tank top are fine. put on some mascara or something if it’ll help you chill, but you’ll look great.” taniya is a little psychotic most of the time, but she’s calm as fuck in these situations.

i twist my hair up into a clip and climb into my car, palms sweaty. i don’t know why i agreed, this is so creepy and random.

Paige💕

i’m otw, u almost there?

Brookee🐝

yeah almost, ps don’t text and drive

Paige💕

hypocrite

Brookee🐝

😔

~

“hey brooke!” i hear a voice from behind the booth im sitting in, nursing a sprite and a small fry.

“hi paige,” i say, grinning. she smiles back, and slides into the other side of the booth, then reaches over and takes one of my fries.

“get your own,” i chide, while sliding the fries closer to her. “besides that, why’d you randomly want to know what college i go to?”

she shifts in her seat. as she opens her mouth, a waitress comes by with a happy meal. paige opens it up and dumps her fries into the other end of the nugget box. before she eats, i quickly snap a picture.

“you don’t mind if i post this? it’s kinda how im paying for my guilty pleasures.”

she nods, “yeah, tag me. anyway, i asked you about what college you went to because i thought i knew you from somewhere, but i just could not figure out what. also, you’re like, really pretty so i wanted to talk to you.”

she blushes at the last part, which makes my cheeks go a bit pink. 

“well, you’re not exactly bad looking yourself. when can i see you again, because it’s getting late and i want to see my bed,” i say. taniya would be proud of my straightforwardness.

“Well, i’ve got tickets to a Sun & Fever game for monday, and the person i was going with just bailed on me, so do you wanna come?” 

i blink at paige in shock. i’ve literally known her in person for maybe twenty five minutes and she’s already offering me things?

“i mean, im not doing anything, and the Sun’s arena isn’t that far, is it?” i ask, hoping to get any more information on whatever she’s proposing.

“yeah, it’s probably only like an hour with traffic, but i can pick you up and drive you home if you want? or we can get a hotel? i have a hotel, but i can cancel it if you wanna you home, i just didn’t want to drive again after the game because leaving would be hell.”

i nod, hoping it looks cool and confident and not utterly confused.

“yeah, we can keep the hotel, it’s okay.”

“aight, i’ll get you on monday around three.” 

paige walks me out to my car, and as i climb in, she grabs my hand and squeezes it. once i see that she’s gone, i call taniya.

“Bitch do i have so much to tell you.”

[nichuuu]

Beats Me - 5: Tamed

(Ryujin & Yeji)

Being Yeji’s neighbour was more of a nightmare than you’d imagined.

Yes. The prospect of her threats of coming to your house and killing you becoming reality scared you shitless. You knew she meant every word she said. You did what you could to avoid her in your apartment complex, taking the stairs, making sure to leave the house slightly earlier so that you didn’t see her at the lift landing… But no matter what you did, avoiding her was one hell of a sisyphean task. She was just about everywhere. You bumped into her in the lobby, saw her in the nearby convenience store, crossed her at the laundry room… 

It was like she was teleporting to your location each time you left your flat. It didn’t help that the two of you were perpetually on the same bus to campus each morning. She never really said much to you, opting to shoot you with her signature glare that never failed to scare you out of your skin. You wished you could just shrink away from her gaze sometimes, cower from those sharp feline-like eyes that bore into your soul each time you looked into them. She was terrifying to say the least. 

“Sounds like a shitshow for you,” Ryujin mused, staring nonchalantly at the fry in her hand. You set down your drink. 

“Calling it a shitshow would be an understatement,” you corrected. “It’s more of a… Fuck, I don’t know what it is.”

Ryujin chuckled and dipped her fry into her ketchup. “So tragic for you yet so entertaining for us…”

She popped the soggy fry into her mouth and leaned back in her seat. The beeping coming from the Mcdonalds kitchen was starting to irk you more than it should’ve in the given moment. Next to Ryujin, Kwon Eunbi sighed and took a sip of her drink. 

“You ought to try and get friendly with her,” she advised. “If you don’t, it’s gonna be plain awkward. I for one don’t like the idea of being glared at on a daily basis…”

“How the hell do I even approach that woman?” You asked exasperatedly, “What do I say? Oh hey Yeji, I know you hate my guts and all but can we be chill?”

Putting her legs up on the table, Ryujin replied. “I think you could try that.”

“She would cut me in half just by looking at me,” you promptly shot back. Ryujin shrugged. 

“You never know… Might be worth a shot.”

Eunbi sighed and folded her arms. “Sorry Myeong-seok… You’re kinda on your own for this.”

Your lips formed a thin line as you buried your face in your hands. “I know… It makes this whole thing suck a little more than it has to.”

Karina cleared her throat next to you. “You could uh… You know… Try saying hi to her when you see her around?” 

“That sounds like suicide,” you told your pianist truthfully. 

“Being a decent human being doesn’t mean you’re insane,” Karina told you.

“But this is Yeji we’re talking about here,” you reminded her, “I barely even open my mouth around her and she already wants to murder me! What will happen if I say hello?”

Jimin clicked her tongue and drew in a breath. She must’ve remembered that Yeji had an unexplained vendetta against you. You felt like it was due to the fact that you showed up late on your first day. Then again… Who stays mad at someone for that long? You didn’t know Yeji well enough to know if she was the type to hold grudges against people. 

“I’ll try and talk to her one of these days,” Ryujin piped, “maybe I can find a way to get her to be less of a bitch around you, but you’ll eventually have to get around to talking to her you know?” 

“ Yea… I do,” you told her. Trying to talk to Yeji wasn’t exactly on your bucket list, but you knew that you’d eventually have to try and sort things out with her if the band chemistry was to improve. 

Eunbi’s phone started to ring. She picked it up off the table.

“I gotta take this. If you guys have to leave, go ahead,” she told you guys. She stood up and hurriedly walked out of the Mcdonalds. You took a look at your watch and noted that it was getting pretty late.

“I think I’m gonna make a move,” you told your band members, “see you guys.”

They all waved to you as you gathered your things. You waved goodbye to Eunbi on the way out, but she was too absorbed in her phone call to see you. You decided not to disturb her and set off to the nearest bus stop. A couple minutes of waiting and a rather unpleasant ride home later, you found yourself walking down the usual path you took to get home. As you set down the footpath, thunder rumbled off in the distance. You quickened your pace, hoping to get home before the sky opened up above you. 

The gate to the lobby was in sight, the faint warm glow from the lights within the apartment complex illuminating the small space before the door like a fireplace would on a cold winter night. The light was always rather comforting to you, it symbolised security and respite from a long day. 

“Hehe… Eat up little fella…”

Though you were just metres away from the door, the voice that travelled from your left made you halt in your tracks. There was a soft meow, followed by an even softer giggle. 

“There you go… You better lick this bowl clean.”

You refused to believe your ears. But when you turned to the source of the voice, your eyes only served to prove what your ears had made you conclude. 

The voice you heard was indeed Hwang Yeji’s. It sounded foreign at first, but then you realised it was because it had taken on a softer, warmer tone. Your guitarist was squatting before a metal bowl, a rare trace of a smile on her face as she watched a cat eat cat food out of the metal bowl before her. She giggled again, a little louder this time. 

“You look terribly skinny,” she muttered,  tilting her head as she examined the cat closely.  “You don’t have a collar… You must be a stray then…” 

She gingerly stretched out a hand towards the cat. It had dark brown fur, patches of white spotting its body. Her fingers gently rested themselves atop the cat’s head, her knuckles curling and uncurling as she softly scratched the top of its head. You could only stare in shock and awe as you took in this gentler side of Yeji. You’d never thought it’d be possible for her to display affection towards anything or anyone. 

You must’ve stood there longer than you should’ve, for Yeji sensed someone’s gaze on her and whipped her head towards you. Her eyes locked with yours. For a moment, you swore you saw shock behind her eyes, then curiosity… And then they reverted back to their usual coldness. 

“Fuck are you looking at Squeaker?” she spat. 

You snapped out of your trance. “O-Oh… I-I was just… Walking home…”

“Then keep walking home. Don’t bother me,” she replied, fixing you with her usual piercing glare. She turned back to the cat, clicking her tongue in annoyance as she continued to watch it eat. You took that as your cue to leave her with her feline friend and continued to walk back towards the gate of your apartment complex. 

“Myeong-seok!”

You turned back to see Hwang Yeju waving frantically as she ran towards you. In her arm, she cradled a loaf of bread and a six pack of beer. You could also make out a tray of eggs and a pack of sausages. The items looked like they were bound to fall at any second.

“M-Ms Hwang! Be careful!” You cautioned her, brisk walking towards Yeji’s sister. To your amazement, she was able to keep all the items within the cradle of her arm and stopped right before you. 

“Hello!” She greeted you bubbly, “did you just come back from school?”

“Y-Yea…” you answered. You pointed to the groceries in her hands. “Do you need me to take some of those?”

You didn’t expect her to thrust all of her groceries into your arms. 

“Thanks! You’re really sweet!” Yeju beamed, “by the way, thanks for lending us salt yesterday. I think the cooking would’ve been a disaster without it!” 

You didn’t know how this woman had this much energy this late in the night. Your best guess was that it was simply just her personality. Furthermore, this was her third time thanking you for letting her borrow salt. It weirded you out a little, but you figured that it was simply her nature. 

“N-No problem Ms Hwang,” you assured her. 

“We’ve been through this. Just call me Yeju!” she reminded you.

“R-Right… S-Sorry Yeju…”

The older girl smiled, radiating a glow brighter than the street lights. Yeji emerged from the alley. 

“Unnie, let’s go,” she said.

“Aww come on Yeji, at least talk to your neighbour for a bit!” Yeju argued. Yeji fixed her elder sister with a glare. 

“I would rather shove a burning hot pan up my ass,” she grunted, “let’s just go.”

Yeji walked past you. She tapped her card against the reader in the gate. “I’m not waiting for you!”

“Come back here Yeji!” Yeju called. Unfortunately, Yeji had already disappeared into the lobby. With a heavy sigh, Hwang Yeju dug for her keys in her pocket. 

“She’s a lot more cranky these days… Can’t put my finger on it,” she muttered, “sorry for my sister’s behaviour… She’s a little… You know…”

You waved it off. 

“I understand,” you assured the older girl. She seemed relieved.

“Great. Let’s go inside before it starts pouring.”

The two of you entered the lobby. She asked you about your day, how things were going—The usual friendly neighbour stuff. You rode the lift together with Yeji’s older sister, carrying her groceries all the way to her apartment door where she finally took them back from you. With a friendly wave and a chirpy goodbye!, she entered her apartment and left you out in the hallway. You slotted your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “What an interesting woman…”

You headed back to your own apartment just down the hall. 

For the rest of the week, you didn’t see much of Yeju, but the frequency at which you bumped into Yeji seemed to increase. The campus cafeteria—once a haven where you were certain that you would not see Yeji—had become a meeting ground for the two of you. You’d bump into her as she was getting food or travelling to her next classroom, even spotting her from the corner of your eye while you ate your lunch. She was icy as always, her signature look of disdain glued onto her face with super glue, silently berating you as you scuttled by. 

And then there was the cat. It appeared that Yeji would always come down at night to feed the stray in the alley near the complex, whispering to it in a hushed, tender tone. She’d be in the same spot, same position—Squatted just a few metres away from the alley entrance. You made the mistake of stopping and staring the first few times, but soon learnt to keep walking on without looking at her. 

That night as the rain lashed your umbrella and the wind howled incessantly, you walked down the familiar stretch of pavement. Band practice had ended and you’d turned down Eunbi’s offer for dinner to catch up on some work. The concrete was slick with rain water, the warm glow of streetlights reflected in the stream of water that flowed down the pavement. It was chilly. Not winter chilly, but  the type of cold that was unpleasant enough to make you want to huddle up at home with a nice hot drink—That type of chilly. The rain was merciless, fat droplets pelting your face as a gust of wind blew what felt like an ocean’s worth of water towards you. In hindsight, you realised that you may have been better off going to dinner with your singer. That way, you could at least wait out the rain before heading home. 

You walked by the convenience store. The lobby was just a few metres away now. 

“Here… This should keep you warm.” 

Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have stopped to look at Yeji. But under the assault of the storm, you couldn’t help but stop and turn to see if that truly was her talking to her feline friend in this weather. 

Sure enough, she was there. In a black raincoat with her hood up, you could make out the smiling features of Hwang Yeji as she slid something into a cardboard box. The box was beneath what looked like a small makeshift shelter, made from sticks and a plastic bag. It kept the rain from attacking the cardboard beneath it, sheltering its occupant from the storm. Yeji reached in and adjusted something, her mouth moving as she whispered something to the cat. You knew that it was in your best interest to set off by now, but you found yourself walking towards your guitarist. 

“There… That should do it,” she said. She’d wrapped a blanket around the cat, swaddling the shivering animal in warmth. Yeji folded the flaps of the box—by just a little—shielding her companion from the rain while giving it ample air to breathe. You stopped behind her, holding your umbrella out slightly such that it shielded the both of you from the rain. You knew that she could sense your presence from the way her shoulders tensed. 

“What did I say about bothering me?” she asked. 

“W-Well… You’d catch a cold if I just left you alone…” 

She turned to look at you. You could only see one of her eyes under the hood of her raincoat. 

Yeji pitched the wet raincoat. “Don’t you see I have this on?”

“I-I know. But the rain’s p-pretty heavy… You could catch a cold from this.”

Yeji clicked her tongue in annoyance.  “What do you take me for? Some girl who’s weak and helpless?”

“N-No! I-I just…” 

“Then why the fuck bother with me? Do you want something out of me?” Yeji retorted, rising from her position to look you in the eye.

The air that already felt dense because of the rain somehow grew denser. Yeji fixed you with one of her usual nasty glares. You felt something bubbling inside you—A balloon of frustration slowly growing and expanding, increasing in volume as it slowly rose up from your core to your throat. The fact that she’d taken your act of kindness for an act driven by the desire to achieve something didn’t sit well with you.

“I… I just wanted to help,” you told her sincerely.

“I don’t need your help. Go away.”

The balloon burst. 

“I don’t get it Yeji,” you began, unable to withhold the frustration from flooding your voice, “from day one, you’ve been at my throat, hounding and threatening me with snarky remarks. I don’t know if you only act this way towards me, but it’s seriously putting me off. I don’t know what I did to piss you off so much, nor do I understand how I’ve been able to piss you off to the extent that you literally despise me. Please, explain it to me.”

Yeji glared silently.  Then she squatted back down and faced the cat. 

“It’s… Not your fault.”

Your grip on your umbrella—that you didn't know had tightened—relaxed a little. “H-Huh?”

Yeji drew in a breath. “Go away.”

The roar of pattering raindrops on your umbrella seemed to go silent.

“W-Wait… What do you mean—”

“Go away or I’ll scream.”

You stood there for a moment. Then you slowly turned and retreated from your guitarist, leaving her vulnerable to the onslaught of water droplets from the sky once more. As you stood in the elevator, your mind seemed to be incapable of handling the creation of a mere string of thought. Yeji’s ambiguous line impacted you more than it should’ve. 

No work was done that night. Instead, you stared blankly at the login screen to your laptop, your fingers frozen on the keyboard. The cup of tea you’d made had gone cold long ago, the condensation on the inner walls of the cup flowing into the liquid and diluting it.

Why is this affecting me so much? I’m not even that close to her… 

You could figure out why Yeji’s statement screwed with you the way it did. However, an hour’s worth of thinking made you realise that it was the desire to receive her acceptance that drove you to care about this more than you should. You frustratedly smacked your forehead with your palm repeatedly, loud smacks carrying your confusement and frustration throughout your apartment. 

“Fuck. This band is messing me up…” you sighed. You took a sip of your lukewarm tea and cringed at its unnatural taste. It seems as though the tea was affected by your mood too. You felt the urge to talk to someone about what had happened, and when it came to Yeji, there was only one person that came to mind. 

From Shin Ryujin’s end, you could distinctly hear the sound of her cracking open a beer as you finished the last bit of your recount. 

“Hm…” your bassist mumbled, “I wonder what that could mean…”

You leaned back in your own chair and sighed. “This is bothering me more than it should. Is that weird? Am I weird?”

“Relax man. I think it’s just your nature,” she assured you, “don’t stress over this stuff, it’s alright to care sometimes.”

She belched loudly. You hurried to move the phone away from your ear.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” you muttered.

“Fuck you sideways Squeaker,” Ryujin retorted. She always had a thing for firing back with remarks that were beyond human imagination. “Anyway, thanks for telling me this. I’ll see if I can try to talk to her sister about it. Maybe she knows a thing or two.”

“Y-Yea… Maybe she does,” you echoed, “do you need help arranging a meeting? I can always just go down the hall and ask…”

“Shit. You live down the hall from Yeji?”

“Unfortunately. She moved in last week.”

There was a brief pause from Ryujin’s end. 

“Go get a six pack of beer for me,” she instructed, “I think I’m gonna be paying a house-warming visit.”

She followed you home from school the next night and retrieved the beer from your place. To your surprise, she’d actually bought a house warming gift for the Hwang’s. 

“The beer is simply a formality,” she told you, slinging the tote bag that contained her gift for the Hwangs over her shoulder. “It’s simply the warmer of souls, the pleaser of—”

“Just take the fucking beer and get out,” you told her. She grinned like a cheshire cat, satisfied that she’d managed to annoy you for the day. She went over to the Hwang residence without another word. You were relatively productive that night, burning through a decent amount of readings and completing two of the assignments that were due the next week. 

And then at 11pm, there was a knock on your door. You were lazing on your beanbag by then, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram and liking random images of capybaras. 

“Coming,” you muttered lazily. You rose and shuffled to the door. Two unexpected guests stood before you when you pulled the door open. 

“Hello!” Ryujin beamed. Next to her, Yeji grumbled something incoherent.

“W-What the…” you stammered. You were more shocked by Yeji’s presence than anything.

“Yeju wasn’t home,” Ryujin explained, waltzing into your apartment, “Yeji opened the door, I entered, cracked open a few beers, Yeji tried to chase me out, I pulled her out together with me, Yeji forgot her keys, here we are!”

The list of occurrences that tumbled from Ryujin’s mouth was nothing far from confusing. 

“I’m going to wait in front of my door,” Yeji muttered.

As the guitarist turned, Ryujin quickly strode over and grabbed her by the arm. “Nuh-uh.”

She dragged Yeji into your apartment and closed the door with her leg. “Let’s spend the time here! It’s so nice in Squeaker’s place!”

“She’s drunk,” Yeji told you.

“Not drunk! Tipsy!” Ryujin corrected, “if I were drunk, I would be slurring my sentences, but I’m not! Take that bitch!”

Yeji rolled her eyes. “This is ridiculous. I’m leaving.”

Ryujin blocked the door with her body. 

“You ain’t going nowhere kitty,” Ryujin smiled.

“Ryujin. Move,” Yeji growled. 

“Or what? What are you gonna do Yeji?” 

Yeji sighed and tried to push your bassist aside. With surprising agility, Ryujin grabbed Yeji’s wrist, pinning it against the wall in a swift movement. 

“W-What the hell! Let me go!” Yeji demanded. Ryujin grinned. 

“Nah-ah,” she replied.

Yeji futilely attempted to wrest herself from Ryujin’s grip. The bassist stayed smirking, catching her friend’s hand as she tried to push her away—Yeji’s other hand was pinned against the wall. 

“Relax kitty,” Ryujin whispered to her, “you’re being a very bad girl.”

“R-Ryujin! Don’t you dare!” Yeji warned. The panic was apparent in her voice. 

That was the first…

 Ryujin's smirk seemed to get even more smug . “Why not? We’ve done it before haven’t we?”

“T-That was a one off! I-I was drunk!” Yeji reasoned. 

Ryujin silenced her with a finger on her lips. “You enjoyed it last time, didn’t you?” 

“R-Ryujin… Please…” Yeji pleaded, “n-not here…”

Ryujin casted a glance in your direction.

“Why? You afraid Squeaker’s gonna let the whole world know about this?” she questioned Yeji. 

“Ryujin…” Yeji tried. 

When Ryujin shoved her knee in between Yeji’s legs, you knew that Yeji’s fate was sealed. You had no idea that Shin Ryujin of all people would be able to tame someone as fierce as Yej—Yet there she was, making the impossible possible.

“Anything else before we go on?” Ryujin questioned. Yeji opened her mouth, then she closed it. 

Yeji shook her head. Ryujin beamed.

“Neat,” your bassist mused, “we’ll have a fun time tonight.”

She was quick to drag Yeji over to the beanbag you were on just minutes ago. Then—rather boldly—Ryujin gripped Yeji’s T-shirt and ripped it right off her. 

“H-Hey!” Yeji cried, arms shooting across her chest to cover her vulnerable areas. “H-He’s right there!” 

“Oh relax, will you?” Ryujin scoffed, “he’s respectful. Isn’t that right Squeaky?” 

You flashed an awkward smile. You hoped that Yeji couldn’t see the tent in your pyjama pants.

“Come over here and help me,” Ryujin requested. 

“I-I… I really don’t think I should,” you reasoned, “I-I don’t think she wants me to touch her…”

“Does that really matter right now?” Ryujin rebutted. 

When you continued to stand there awkwardly, Ryujin rolled her eyes. “Ugh… No fun.”

She tugged Yeji’s shorts down, letting them fall and pool around her ankles. Yeji quickly moved and covered up her private parts. She looked rather uncomfortable.

“Ryujin,” you cautioned your bassist, “I-I don’t think we should—”

“I don’t need you being a wet blanket right now,” she chided, “if you aren’t joining, just sit out and watch.”

Every fibre of your body was urging you to just walk over right there and then. However, your conscience told you that doing so wouldn’t be wise. When Ryujin saw that you still remained in your spot, she scoffed. “Lame…”

She pushed Yeji down onto the beanbag. Yeji yelped as she fell into it, a gasp quickly following up as Ryujin fell atop of her.  Ryujin manoeuvred around Yeji’s body to remove the bra from her body. She succeeded and threw it away. In a flash, Ryujin herself was topless, her clothes adding on to the growing pile next to the beanbag. Her lips found Yeji’s, a sloppy makeout session ensuing.

Ryuin continued to assert her dominance over Yeji. Her right hand slowly made its way downward, until it reached the waistband of the simple, white panties Yeji wore. Spending not more than a second or two there, she reached further. The tips of her slim fingers quested below the thin cotton. When they reached a certain point, the gasps and soft sounds escaping Yeji’s lips cleared for a full moan of pleasure as Ryujin’s fingertips finally reached her most intimate parts. The moment that moan left Yeji’s mouth, you could see the smirk on Ryujin’s face grow wider. It was like she’d found a treasure.

From then, Ryujin refused to cease her assault on the guitarist’s body. Her left hand slid down the waistband of Yeji’s panties until the thin, tiny slip of fabric was halfway down the guitarist’s hips, giving her more than enough access to Yeji’s slick heat. You watched as Ryujin’s middle finger disappeared between Yeji’s legs. The rest of her hand covered your view—But the look on Yeji’s pleasure-stricken face told you all you needed to know regarding what that middle finger was doing.

“Look how fucking hot she is,” Ryujin said, her words dripping with lust, “she’s so fucking wet.”

Yehi let her loudest moan yet escape her lips. The sudden thrust and twist of Ryujin’s wrist tells you that she had penetrated the other girl with her fingers. Yeji’s legs close around her friend’s hand. 

“Fuck… Just as tight as the last time,” Ryujin smirked.

You found yourself squirming in place as your shaft continued to strain painfully against your pants. 

“I think you’ll like fucking her,” Ryujin stated, her voice taking on a softer tone, “She’ll be tight and wet for you… I bet you’d cum so quickly… A fucking shame that you’re choosing to miss out on this.”

Ryujin’s ring finger slipped between Yeji’s legs. You knew full well it had joined her middle finger inside Yeji’s body. Yeji’s legs seemed to have turned to jelly. Ryujin’s body covers Yeji’s bare skin, so you let your gaze roam up Ryujin’s toned back. And there, just to the left of Ryujin’s well shaped shoulders, you saw a pink nub rise and fall with each of Yeji’s laboured breaths.

Pink nipples—Yeji had pink nipples.

Yeji’s features—Usually fierce and full of anger—were twisted, wracked and contorted—Pleasure and lust coursed through her system, making her squirm beneath her friend. Her eyes, half-lidded with pleasure, stared up at the ceiling. Her mouth formed a perfect “O” as wordless sounds of pleasure left her lips.

“So tight… And she’s fucking drenched… Little slut,” Ryujin hissed. 

It all quickly becomes too much for the guitarist to handle. The pleasure of it all… It threatened to overwhelm her senses.

“Ryujin, I… Ryujin—” Yeji said quickly, as though she was barely able to form the words, “I’m going to…”

“You like being fingered? You like how I mess up your insides, don’t you Yeji?”

The guitarist’s only response was a long, passionate moan. She was suddenly unable to form words with her mouth. Every sound that escaped her was a moan of pleasure or a noise of the sort. It was like her brain had shut off, the pleasure in her system pushing the ability to think right out of her being.

“Do you like my fingers? Do you like getting finger fucked Yeji?”

Yeji squirmed. Her eyes shut as she moaned softly. It was like she was suddenly ashamed of how quickly and completely she had allowed Yeji to dominate her body and manipulate it to her liking. Ryujin moved her left hand to cup Yeji’s left breast, the index finger and thumb capturing her exposed, hardened nipple and giving it a soft squeeze. 

“Fucking cum Yeji.”

On cue, Yeji let out a scream. Her legs spasmed as an orgasm wracked her body. For several long seconds, Yeji writhes in pleasure beneath the bassist.  Ryujin turned and smiled devilishly at you. It was as if she was asking you whether you liked the little show she had just given you. She rose, leaving Yeji’s sweaty, heaving body on your bean bag as she strutted over. 

“I feel generous tonight,” she told you. Her hand grips your chin, tearing your gaze away from the guitarist before you can even take in her body. 

“Your table should hold my weight, right?” she asked. You nodded numbly. Wordlessly, she saunters over and clears a space for her to sit. Swiftly, she undid the belt that held up her baggy jeans, letting the denim fall off her slender legs. Her panties were off even quicker. 

You smiled devilishly as you undid your own pants and took your cock in one hand. You approached Ryujin, placing your shaft on Ryujin’s wanton pussy and dragging the head up and down her moist, dripping lips. 

Ryujin licked her lips. “She’s watching. Let’s give her a show, shall we?”

Grasping Ryujin’s legs, you raised them so that her calves were on your shoulders. Reaching down and placing your tip at her opening, you slowly pushed inside her. Entering Ryujin elicited a deep, lustful moan from her. You hear a soft set of footsteps approaching from behind. Yeji walked up next to the two of you. She knelt down, eyes glued on your cock that was buried inside her friend.

“T-Tell me how he feels,” Yeji requested.

“Fuck…” Ryujin gasped, unable to answer as you filled her completely. Your hips now touch her soaked, hot crotch as you bottomed out inside her heat. She savoured the feeling of being filled by you once more.

“He’s so big, Yeji,” Ryujin hissed, not taking her eyes away from yours, “he’s so big and thick and he’s fucking stretching me out… I think—”

Her moan cuts through her sentence. You’d cut short Ryujin’s descriptions as you began to move. Slowly, you drew your cock out from her tightly gripping pussy for the first time, savouring the feel of her lips wrapped tightly around your hard shaft as it tried to pull you back into her. You heard Yeji gasp at the sight of your cock drenched in slick, thick pussy juices. 

You drove back into Ryujin. Before long, you’ve settled into a slow but steady rhythm. You took your time, letting Yeji have a long glimpse of your cock as it appeared from between Ryujin’s glistening pussy before disappearing once more into the girl’s tight body. Ryujin was quickly reduced to a quivering, moaning mess as you fucked her. Gone was the girl that dominated Yeji just minutes before.

Her hands gripped the edge of your table with knuckle white grips, her mind and body relishing every thrust you made into her body. Words, cusses, moans… They spilled freely from her lips. 

“Oh, fuck! Fuck me just like that… Fuck me slow… Make me… Feel… Every inch of you! He’s so big, Yeji! He feels so fucking good inside me!”

You tore your gaze from Ryuin’s writhing body.  Yeji had begun to work her hand between her milky legs, her left hand clutching her right breast. You watched eagerly as she captured the pinkness of her nipples between her index and middle finger, delivering a small amount of pressure to the perky nubs.

With a foreign tone of lust, she drawled. “Fuck her… Fuck her harder…”

You grinned as the girl finally give into her desires. Her pleasure must’ve been heightened as she watched the erotic scene play out in front of her. You grasped Ryujin’s thighs and speared yourself deeper and deeper into the girl, using her long limbs as leverage to make each thrust harder than the last.

For long minutes, you fucked her like that. Her toned, slim body rocked back and forth helplessly on the table, her round breasts bouncing wantonly with each impact of your hips into her hot body..

“Oh, fuck! Yes! Fuck me harder… As hard as you want! O-Oh! Fuck YES!”

Ryujin is more than happy to let you have your way with her body. You knew from all the time you’d spent with her that she was more than comfortable with rough sex. Unreserved, you let loose and began o truly fuck her the way she wanted, the way she yearned, the way she loved to be fucked. 

Pounded. That was it—Shin Ryujin loved getting pounded.

You let her legs fall from your shoulders. You spread her thighs, a palm on each one before forcing her onto her left side. Keeping her right leg in the air, you continued to fuck her, giving Yeji the perfect view of your cock as it slid in and out of her friend’s pussy.

The new position drives Ryujin mad. Your first few thrusts into her wet, tight pussy were your indication. Her moans and gasps continued, higher in pitch and louder in volume as you drove deeper and faster into her pussy. The wet, slick sounds of her juices and the wet flesh around your cock reverberates through the apartment as you continued to fuck the mewling, moaning girl. Between her splayed lips, you could feel the heat radiating from her core surrounding your shaft.

“Oh god, Yeji he’s… he’s so big inside me. He’s fucking me so good!”

“How… how does your pussy f-feel, Ryujin?”

“It feels… So good… So full of his cock… M-Mmmmph… I’m so fucking wet! I'm gonna... I'm gonna...”

It was all quickly becoming too much to handle—Watching Yeji be used and Yeji watching you use her friend. Your own peak was rapidly approaching.

“Fuck… I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop fucking me!” Ryujin cried. “Mmmm, I’m getting close!”

“I… I’m cumming!” you heard. The voice was not from Ryuin, but from Yeji. The guitarist was a squirming mess on her knees, her body wracked with spasms as she orgasmed. You tore your gaze from Ryujin to watch as Yeji quivered and shook in her place, her hand working busily between her thighs as the rest of her body straightened involuntarily in pleasure.

“Ohh.. oh, I’m cumming!” Ryujin exclaimed. She took your attention back once again. Her pussy pulsated, squeezing you tightly—The signal of her impending orgasm.

“Where—”

“Inside me!” she answered, cutting you off, “inside me, please! Fill me… Fill me with your cum!”

She came first. The tightening of her spasming pussy around your shaft quickly drove you to orgasm as well. Burying yourself as deep as you can within her hot, slick pussy, you erupted.

Your cock sent stream after stream of thick, hot semen into her body. She tightened around you, squeezing your cock tightly and milking you of every drop. You let yourself savour every second of it, the feel of Ryujin’s body wrapped around you, the feel of her wet walls being painted with cum, the sound of her and Yeji’s moans filling your ears. You were certain that this was paradise.

You stood there exhausted. Soon you finally slipped out of her body with a slick pop. Ryujin turned onto her back, too exhausted to do anything further. White, thick liquid oozes between the splayed lips of her freshly fucked pussy, before a thick stream began to flow from her body onto her flushed thighs and your table.

“Oh fuck…” Ryujin heaved, “that… That was fucking hot…”

She let her legs dangle off the table, keeping them spread as she looked over to her friend on her knees. “Come here and clean me up Yeji.”

The girl eagerly rose from her knees and knelt back down in front of Ryujin’s still spread legs. She doesn’t waste any time, diving in and licking the thick white cum that flowed from your bassist’s pussy like it was a delicacy. Ryujin hummed softly, basking in the pleasure at the feel of Yeji’s tongue attacking her still sensitive lips. When Ryujin had enough, she pushed Yeji’s head away. You swore you saw a hint of disappointment on Yeji’s face.

She slid off the desk. You caught her, holding her steady as she found her footing on her jelly-like legs. 

“Shit… I need to sleep,” she muttered, “Squeaker, carry me to your bed, will you?” 

You complied. You laid her down on your mattress as gingerly as you could, making sure to pull the covers over her nude body. Then, you went over to your cupboard and pulled out a shirt.

“Where… Are you going?” Ryujin asked as you were about to head out.

“I’m just passing this to Yeji,” you told her, “she’ll need this.”

Ryujin hummed and turned on her side. “Sleep next to me when you come back.”

You walked out. Yeji had put her bra and shorts back on and was gathering what was left of her shirt.

“H-Hey,” you called. You walked over and handed the shirt to her. “You’ll need to cover up. H-Have this.”

Yeji stared at the shirt for a moment. It was one of those old anime shirts you picked up from the thrift store. It would definitely be baggy on Yeji’s small frame, but it was all you could really offer her. 

You thought that she’d smack your hand away and tell you to fuck off or something. To your surprise—and some delight—she gingerly took the shirt from you. Wordlessly, she slipped it on. 

“Thanks,” she voiced, “I’ll go now.”

You walked her to the door and opened it for her. “I-Is Yeju back to open the door?”

“S-She should be,” Yeji replied.

“R-Right then… H-Have a good night,” you wished her. She looked at you for a moment. You were certain she was going to call you a slur.

“G-Good night,” she wished back, “I-I’ll see you tomorrow for practice...”

Yeji hugged herself and hurried down the hall. You figured that the embarrassment had made her act like this. Tomorrow, she’d go back to cussing you out like a sailor.

You returned to your room after locking up. Ryujin had fallen fast asleep by then, snoring rather loudly as you silently slipped into the space next to her. 

***

“You think she’ll be awkward when she sees us?” Ryujin asked as the two of you got off the bus. 

“She’ll be fine with you, but she’s gonna kill me,” you muttered. 

Ryujin cackled. “Ah… So this whole thing is no longer my problem!”

You shot her a glare.

“You were the one that initiated things. It still is your problem,” you told her.

“Hey. You both enjoyed it didn’t you?” she smirked. 

“That doesn’t negate the fact that you started the whole thing!” you argued.

“What are you guys getting so heated over?” 

You turned. Kim Chaewon gazed at the both of you, a blank expression on her face. 

“Oh. Hey Chaewon,” Ryujin waved, “we were just having friendly banter. We aren’t gonna kill each other if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Chaewon gazed intently at Ryujin for a moment, then transferred her gaze back to you. “So I was that forgettable huh?”

You blinked. “W-What?”

“You’ve already moved on, haven’t you?” Chaewon questioned, “getting yourself involved in a band with a bunch of girls like I was never important. You’re fucking disgusting.”

Chaewon shoulder-checked you as she walked past, making sure to let her trumpet case strike your shin as well. You winced, a sharp pain shooting up your leg. 

“Fuck,” you hissed. Ryujin quickly held onto you.

“That girl is psycho,” she told you. 

“Bratty is a better word,” you replied, “please don’t tell me she’s gonna join the band…”

Ryujin pursed her lips. “Well… Judging from the fact that she has her trumpet case with her on a Friday—I’d say that Eunbi managed to get through to her.”

“Christ on a fucking pike,” you sighed, “Yeji was enough for me to handle already…”

The pain was slowly fading now. You tapped Ryujin’s shoulder. “I think I can walk this off,”

Your bassist let go of you, letting you walk forward on your own for a bit before jogging up to you.

“Chin up Squeaker,” she assured you, “I’m sure that there’s a way to achieve peace in our band.”

You sure as hell hoped so. If not—you were in for one hell of a ride.

[kayleighwinchester]

Five Things You Know About Dean Winchester - and One You Don't: II

(( Here we go, all! The second installment of Five Things You Know About Dean Winchester - and One You Don't! Sickeningly fluffy, for this one! As with most of these so far, much love to @artyandink for suggesting and running the Jensen-a-thon, and thank you so much for all of the love on part 1!)) Dean Winchester was a mystery. 

It was one you were slowly unraveling bit by bit, visit by visit; he would climb in your window every month or so, stay a few days, and disappear again by the end of the week – but slowly, you were learning about him, about who he was, beyond the charismatic smile and easy, confident attitude.

.*

You learned quickly how much touch meant to Dean.

It was like he couldn’t get enough of even the simplest contact. You saw it in even the simplest things – how he seemed to melt into every hug, how he leaned into each kiss, treating all contact like he was a man starved. 

He’d arrived far earlier than usual this time, coming through your window in the early morning; you didn’t want to know what, exactly, your neighbors had to be thinking when he scaled the tree beside the house to your bedroom window in broad daylight. 

You had only woken up about a half an hour before, and had yet to move out of your bed - you were still stretched out like a starfish under the covers, groggy and content, eyes half-following some trashy reality TV show that you, truly, couldn’t care less about. He’d given you that brilliant, million dollar smile of his as he toed his way out of his boots, folded his jacket and placed it in its usual spot on your dresser, and plopped down on the edge of your bed, as if he belonged there. 

“Mornin’, Sweetheart.” 

You didn’t reply – not at first. No, the first thing you had the energy to do was roll over, arms snaking slowly around his middle, your words muffled by his tee-shirt as you offered a mumbled, “Too early.” into his side. You could feel him shake slightly with silent laughter, his hand running down your back briefly. 

“What can I say? Wanted to see my favorite girl. Didn’t even get a motel this time.” 

You let out a small noise of acknowledgement, arms tightening around him. It wasn’t a particularly comfortable position to lay in, even you had to admit that, and, a bit reluctantly, you released your grip, sitting up and scrubbing a hand over your face. “Where were you this time?” You asked. Sitting up fully didn’t last long – only long enough for you to stretch, before you were slouching forward again, your forehead pressing against his shoulder.

His voice still held that barely-contained laughter as he spoke once more. “Chicago. ‘Least it wasn’t a bad drive.” 

You hummed out another soft little sound, letting your eyes drop closed for a moment longer, before you spoke up. “Did you get breakfast on the way?” The last time you’d looked at your alarm clock, it had been just barely seven – it was a good enough excuse, you supposed, to try to stick to the healthy habits you’d been struggling to keep; breakfast was the most important meal of the day, or something like that.

“Nah. Bit burnt out on McDonald’s, ‘n I didn’t wanna stop for real.” He turned slightly, resting his cheek on the top of your head. 

“I can make something.” You offered, finally forcing yourself to sit up once more, quickly turning your face upwards to steal a brief, light kiss. You never got tired of it, the way his eyes sparkled, the way his lips curled up into a smile every time.

“You sure?” He asked, watching you fumble your way out of bed, his eyes lingering on the tiny pajama shorts you wore, before they darted back up to yours. “You don’t have to get up, y’know – I can wait,” 

You shook your head. “I’m trying to actually start eating breakfast,” You informed him, “so I was gonna have to get up sooner or later.” You weren’t sure that helped your case much – he still looked a bit guilty, but pushed himself up off of the bed anyway. 

He followed you like a shadow, only breaking away once you entered the kitchen; you made a bee-line for the fridge, and he stopped in front of the crappy little coffee maker you’d picked up at a resale shop. It wasn’t the first morning you’d spent together, and there was at least a loose routine to it, though you were typically practically falling asleep at the table as he got the coffee going.

For a time, you worked in companionable silence – once the coffee was started, he leaned his weight against the counter, just following you with his eyes. You’d just started on the pancakes, a pan of bacon on the other burner, eggs on the third, when he moved forward, his arms winding around your waist, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder.

“Thank you.” He barely more than mumbled it, his voice giving you the distinct impression that he was far more tired than he’d let on. You opened your mouth to speak, but he continued. “‘N not just for the food.”

He was taller than you – you couldn’t imagine the way he was standing was particularly comfortable for his neck or back – but he nonetheless nuzzled his face into the curve of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. You weren’t sure you’d ever felt him so relaxed – there was no tension in the way he was standing, his hold around you loose and lazy, his breathing even and his heartbeat steady and calm against your back. 

“You better not fall asleep on me,” You warned halfheartedly, though you instinctively leaned your head against his, even if your newfound positions made flipping the pancakes and keeping the bacon from burning a bit more difficult than was strictly necessary. 

“Not going to.” He said simply, pressing a lazy kiss beneath your ear, before he straightened up slightly, though his arms didn’t leave your waist, as if he couldn’t bring himself to lose that contact, his thumbs moving in lazy circles on your sides over your sleep shirt. 

He finally reluctantly pried himself away when the coffee maker let out a chime – one that was beginning to sound a little old, a little like you’d be needing to invest in a new one soon. As you plated the pancakes, bacon, and eggs, moving them over to the table, he busied himself with the coffee – yours with a generous amount of sugar and flavored creamer, and his black – before he settled into his usual seat beside you at the table, his leg just barely brushing yours. 

You’d barely gotten the first pancake onto your plate before he spoke up, the bottle of creamer held in his hand like he fully expected it to bite him. “‘S this any good?” He asked, studying the label intently.

“I mean, I like it.” You offered, continuing to plate up your own breakfast.

A beat, and then, as if he fully expected something – laughter, maybe – he asked, “Mind if I try it?” You glanced up again, startled to find that he genuinely did look a bit like he expected you to say no, or maybe tease him for it. 

“Go ahead,” You encouraged. 

He studied you for a moment longer, before adding a splash of creamer to his coffee, taking a drink. His expression lightened a bit, but there was a certain forced gruffness to his voice as he offered, “‘S alright, I guess.” You pretended not to notice as he added a bit more. You couldn’t, however, not notice the way his free hand settled on your leg, just above your knee, as he ate, his fingers occasionally gently squeezing – and it was only a few moments before he offered, “Really, Y/N, thanks.” He paused for a moment, before he added, “This’s… Nice.” His expression screamed that there were probably a million other words he could have used, but even that one spoke volumes.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, generally, with neither of you being particularly fond of mornings, and this time was no different; the longer he sat there, the more you could see the exhaustion creeping onto his face, the way his eyes began to gloss over just a little, the way his shoulders slumped. If he really had driven all the way from Chicago, presumably through the night, one cup of coffee wasn’t going to be a miracle cure. 

He tailed you like a lost puppy as you cleared the table, and as you gave the dishes a quick rinse off, intending to leave them for later, his arms snaked around your waist once more, his chin resting against the crown of your head. You didn’t have to look up to know his eyes were probably rapidly closing. Still, you’d known him long enough to know his stubborn nature, so you gently offered, “It’s still a little early for me,” A glance at the clock on the stove read just past eight, which certainly was a few hours earlier than you typically tended to get up. “I could use a couple more hours of sleep.”

You could practically feel him sag against you in relief. “I could pro’lly snag a couple hours.” He said – his tone, which attempted to imply that it was a ‘maybe’ and not a ‘definitely’, certainly screamed that he could do with more than just a couple.

This time, his hands never left you fully as he followed you back up the stairs – first his hand resting on your back, then, as you made your way back into your room, his fingers found yours, the contact only breaking for a moment as he fumbled his way out of his jeans, finding a pair of sweats he’d left behind the last time, tucked carefully into the top drawer of your dresser alongside other bits and pieces of clothing he’d forgotten – or maybe left on purpose. 

You lifted the covers as he padded back over to the bed, flopping down beside you with a quiet groan that he couldn’t quite muffle – he always treated your bed like it was the most comfortable thing he’d ever had the pleasure of sleeping on. He rolled over, his arms snaking around you and pulling you close, his lips pressing to your forehead. His breathing had already evened out, soft and slow against your skin.

It was practically instinct, the way your hand moved up to comb through his hair, and you could feel his lips twitch into the faintest sleepy smile, and the words he mumbled against your forehead practically made your heart stop. "Love you, Sweetheart."

(( Tag List? Maybe?: @keanuispunk ))

[kaziwi]

How One Piece Characters Drive

Character(s): Strawhats

Note: i was driving and i was like how would sanji drive and then i wrote this

Luffy

He doesn’t drive

Even if he DID have his license I feel like he still wouldn’t drive like he would actively refuse

He’d just bike around or hitch rides :P

Though when he does drive he NEVER fully stops at stop signs

Rolling stops are his middle name

Zoro

Took his drivers test 4 times before barely passing

ALWAYS has his gps on (he still gets lost)

ARGUES with the gps (...)

Will not hesitate to roll down his window and yell at another car

Incredible at parallel parking

Hangs his arm out the window when driving

Won't let Sanji in his car

Nami

The best driver of the group

Literally will find the weirdest shortcuts but they always get you to your destination at least 10 minutes early

Always ends up navigating better than the gps even if she isn't driving

Genuinely has the worst road rage ever she will scream her head off if someone even waits a second to go after the light turns green

Will pull over on the side of the road and make you get out if you yell loud enough

break checks EVERYONE

Usopp

Avoids highways at all cost

Always drives a little slow as a precaution

He's too scared to change lanes

Too scared to drive in general (passenger princess core)

But he does have the best playlists

Sanji

Has the STRONGEST air freshener ever

Tries to avoid left turns at all cost

Has an excessive amount of gum and mints

Does not allowed fast food in his car at all costs cause its so messy (he also always insists he can make you better and healthier food)

Has a little bag of change for parking meters

Will ONLY play jazz music

Won't let Zoro in his car

Chopper

Isn't old enough to drive so everyone else gives him rides (mostly Robin)

He has one of those fake baby steering wheels so he can pretend <3

Robin

Literally a soccer mom in a mom van (chopper's like her kid)

Has little toys and magazines to keep Luffy and Chopper from distracting her

Mom curses at other cars when with Chopper (like censored curse words)

Has those family stick figure stickers on the back of her car of all the strawhats

Franky

Will play old rock songs and sing along while driving

Has dice hanging from the rear view mirror

He also has every type of car decoration known to man

Has 10000000 car magnets

Named his car and will get mad if you don't address it by its name

If anyone dares to scratch or dent his car there will be hell to pay

Brook

This man is like 90 so he is NOT driving

Usually Franky or Robin would drive him around, or he would rely on public transportation

You will not need a radio when riding with him because he will sing for you

Always offers to pay for gas

Jinbei

Drives like a old man (he is one)

VERY very concerned about safety so he refuses to drive unless everyone has their seat belt on at all times

Bought Chopper a car seat

Like Robin he has little toys and puzzles scattered around the car to distract Luffy so he will be quiet on the drive

"Lets play the quiet game!"

Will cave in buying Mcdonalds if pressured enough (by Luffy)

[marshedmallowes]

Like anything miles 1610. I feel like everyone is writing for miles 42 and forgetting about the og!

midnight cravings - miles morales

SUMMARY: texts at 3am + a mcdonalds notif = a recipe for chaos

WORD COUNT: 561

A/N: i love midnight snacking. mcdonalds always hits harder at 2 in the morning! also sorry i keep writing miles in like situations where he isnt usually 100% Himself (sleepy, sick) so um,.. i will get to a proper one soon

WARNINGS: nothing seriously bad just fluff, food i guess, reader doesn't know miles is spiderman, reader is highkey a simp

"Ugh..." You wake up with a groan, rubbing your eyes and assessing your surroundings. Noticing the still-dark environment surrounding you, you reach out for your phone which was on the bedside table.

2:42 AM. The phone lights blare onto your face, causing you to squint. As you scroll through your notifications, two catch your eye— a text bubble from Miles sent a few minutes ago, and a promo from McDonalds for their new meal.

Miles’ message was rather cryptic, and a normal person wouldn’t understand what “ruawkkekkrkx” meant. But a few months of these kind of typos (which meant Miles was either on patrol or barely awake), and one learns the language.

On the other hand, the McDonalds notif… if it was a propaganda technique, it was definitely working on you. You click on the advertisement, and damn did that chicken burger look good…

You decide to go back to Miles’ text. After opening the app and keyboard, your fingers feel too heavy to type… so you tap on the call button instead.

After exactly three rings, he picks up; in place of his normally spunky voice was a low, raspy one.

“Hey. You good? What’s with the random call?” Damn, his voice was unintentionally sultry as hell. Would it be weird if you started screen recording? He wouldn't know, right?

Ahem. Anyway.

"Oh, I'm fine, a little hungry though. I just didn't wanna type. Um, nice voice by the way." You hear a chuckle through the screen.

"So, you hungry? I mean, I could like, get you a snack or whatever."

"It is literally 3 in the morning right now." Though you expressed disapproval at what he said, your facial muscles tugged into a smile.

"Whatchu want?"

One link to a McDonalds meal later, you're patiently waiting in a now dimly lit room, phone in hand and still in bed. You decide to watch a show while waiting.

You're midway through your show, engrossed in a particular fight scene when you hear your window open with a click. Your fight or flight senses kick in, and you jump out of your bed and grab your phone and lamp (it's the nearest weapon, so...).

You watch as a dark figure comes out of the window in fear, you are ready to swing your lamp and dial your nearest police station when the figure raises both their hands in the air, to signify peace...?

The person pulls up their mask to show their face, one that you'd instantly recognize anywhere.

"Miles!"

You drop everything and sprint to his arms— literally nothing, not even a meteor, could stop you at that moment from wrapping yourself around his lean figure. Miles places his hands on your back, and the two of you relish in each other's presence.

You wish the two of you could stay like that forever, but the enticing smell of a chicken burger and drink eventually draw your attention towards it and you pull away from him.

"Can we talk about how the hell you got to my window with me living in the 21st floor? I seriously thought that the moment you clicked open the window was going to be my last for a few seconds."

Miles smiles and slightly bites his lips, and God forbid the kinds of things you would do for this man.

"Maybe over a chicken burger?"

a/n: to be completely honest i cringed so hard typing this fanfic but i just need to finish it so i hope none of you umm.. feel what im feeling rn at my own writing...

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Calamity trio staying in Amphibia for way more than expected to the point that, by the time they find a way to go back to Earth, they don't even know how they'll be able to adapt to life out there. The way they behave, the way they speak, what they eat, their dreams for the future, their jobs and families are all so inherently amphibian, that going back to Earth would mean completely uprooting the lives they already have there. Sasha highly doubts her psychology degree from Newtopia University is gonna be recognized anywhere on Earth. Will she have to do college again? With what money? They don't have any work experience that will help them get started on Earth. It's not like Chief Ranger of the Newtopian King's Guard is gonna be taken seriously in any resume. Are they willing to go back to Earth to work in McDonalds and live with their parents in their mid 20s when in Amphibia they work as like... ambassador and ministers and part time superheros? Hell, last time they checked, polygamous marriages weren't legally recognized in most places! Would they have to get married again? One of them would have to be legally left out, how do you even begin to make that decision? Anne would need to leave not just her adoptive grandfather and siblings, but also her nieces and nephews, whom she wants to be there for. Plus, Hop Pop is getting old and with Polly in college and Sprig and Ivy with their hands full of tiny pink and yellow pollywogs, Anne ends up being the one with the most time to look after him. It's the least she can do. They all need her. And she needs them.

I think they'd be willing to visit Earth, at most, even for prolongued periods of time, but they've become amphibians in the past decade. They barely feel like earthlings anymore. Going back permanently would... it really... it's just not possible anymore.

[ragingbookdragon]

It’s well into the afternoon when Spades finally emerges from her den and into the breakroom, bleary-eyed and obviously hungover. Price nor Laswell say a word as she shuffles from the company coffee maker then to the table, a groan escaping her as she lowers herself down onto the seat. She doesn’t drink her coffee, she just hovers over it, blinking and hoping that the caffeine will magically absorb into her bloodstream.

Price is the one who finally breaks the silence with, “You alright, Spades?”

She frowns, brows pulling together as she responds with, “I…don’t remember how we got back to base last night.” Her voice is rough, hoarse like she’s been screaming; she pulls at the sparkly silver dress, one arm is out of the sleeve, the other covered.

Laswell notices the lipstick and eyeliner smeared across her face. “Where did you guys go after Soap’s party?”

“I think we went to McDonalds?” Spades replies confusedly. “We pre-gamed here but then Soap was hungry, so we went there. But after we left, we saw a bar and…it’s all fuzzy after that.” She rubs at her temples. “I think there was another bar or was it a nightclub?”

“Where’s everyone else?” Price asks. “The guy’s quarters are empty.”

Spades hums low in her throat. “Soap’s passed out by the toilet, Ghost’s in the tub, Gaz is on the bed, and König is out cold on the floor.” Her head lowers and she rubs her chest. “My nipples hurt.” She sounds confused. “Why the fuck do my nipples hurt?”

Pulling at the dress, she manages to somehow get her other arm out of its sleeve and tugs it down her chest, completely ignoring Laswell and Price; Laswell squints. “Oh my god…Spades, did you…?”

“Who the fuck pierced my nipples last night?”

Price blinks and rubs his eyes. “My only inquiry is if you’re the only one.”

Spades doesn’t reply as she rises shakily from her seat and stumbles out the door, down the hall and back into her quarters. She steps over König, barely sees Gaz wedged between the wall and her bed, and into the bathroom, where Soap is laying with his head against the porcelain of the toilet, and Ghost is contorted into the bathtub. He’s got both knees bent up, heels together, arms crossed over his chest, and his chin is in his chest as well.

She doesn’t even bother to wake him up as she unwinds his arms and shoves his black hoodie and shirt up his chest to reveal two silver bars through either of his nipples.

“Had a dream like this one night,” she hears from a groggy voice. “But it’s a very different location and position.”

Spades drops Ghost’s shirt and does the same to Soap, but the man doesn’t even twitch as she looks at his gold bars. “Did we all—?”

“Mhm.”

“Tell me we at least got photos?”

Ghost grunts and gives a short nod before grabbing her by the sleeve of her dress and yanks her back into him. He tucks her against his body and the tub is way too small for them both, but she somehow manages to twist comfortably enough to tuck her head into the crook of his neck.

“My nips hurt.”

“My dick hurts,” he retorts, and that’s when Spades notices that Ghost is cupping his groin in a way that is protecting it from her weight and her jaw drops in shock.

“Nuh uh, you didn’t.”

“You made me.”

“What?”

Ghost shifts, chest rising and falling as he wraps his arm around her waist. “You said you wanted to feel it whenever I fuck—”

Her hand slaps across his mouth and for once in her life, Spades is flustered. “Okay, end of sentence. You can take it out whenever you want.”

She can feel the smirk and self-assuredness in his voice as he says, “Nah, I think I like it.”

“You’re out of your mind, Ghost.”

“Indeed.” Ghost’s hand slips up her thigh to grab at her ass. “But you like it.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” she replies, and settles against him. “I have a reputation.”

“You will when I’m done with you.”