#what is he without the little hair strand sticking out at the front. hes nothing. ive robbed him

[anthonyzoxide]

Been a surprisingly long time since my last mcyt post on this blog, oof. There'll be much more to come, promise! For now, here’s a chibi False & a storyboard-ish test for a potential Dogwarts animatic.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: IT'S YOU AND ME, THAT'S MY WHOLE WORLD

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: one kiss turns into two, and before you know it, an innocent gaming session turns into something more. (streamer!au)

contents: fem!reader. suggestive (kissing/making out). the ending can be interpreted as sex. non-sexual usage/mentions of lollipops bc i have a sweet tooth and i want a lollipop rn. i didn't really spend a lot of time on this one, but i thought i'd post it anyways. whatever, your favorite streamer boyfriend is back! did you miss him? (the answer is yes). -1K words.

"you're not that good, are you?" you ask with a grin, twirling a lollipop in between your fingers. in front of you, satoru's avatar gets shot down by a couple others for what seems like the hundredth time, and right on cue, satoru curses his bad luck. "you know, maybe you'd be better if you were actually focusing on the game."

"it's not my fault," satoru insists petulantly, a childish pout appearing on his face. he sticks out his bottom lip and rests his chin on top of your head. "how am i supposed to be able to focus with you in my lap?"

you stick your lollipop in your mouth and shrug, a little smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you hum indifferently. "sounds like you're just making excuses..."

"oh?"

satoru pinches your cheek teasingly with the hand not resting on top of his mouse, fingers skating from the side of your face to your lips as he tugs out the lollipop. he ignores your halfhearted protests and pops it into his mouth, smiling cheekily as he does so. in the darkening computer screen in front of you, you can see your boyfriend's smug expression, which smirks back at you. "mmm, this flavor's good. what is it?"

"strawberry, i think," you reply instinctually. satoru shakes his head in response, taking the candy out of his mouth and twirling the stick in between his thumb and index finger before he corrects you.

"actually, i think it's you i'm tasting," he quips, clicking around with his mouse for a second before he opens up the photo app. your reflection gazes back at the two of you in satoru's comfortably large gaming chair.

"no wonder you have no game," you deadpan, looking away from the mirror image of you and satoru and towards the ceiling.

"baby, you're literally sitting in my lap right now."

"yes, and?"

satoru's laugh is clear and blue, like a sunlit sky in the middle of june. it almost feels like he hasn't been able to stop smiling around you ever since "the incident," and honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

he sticks the lollipop in between your lips and stops you from verbally bashing him any more than you already have. the sweet, tangy taste is a welcome sensation in your mouth, and satoru can't help but smile endearingly when your reflection looks at him with round eyes. "you're so cute," he mumbles, punctuating each word with a kiss to the top of your head.

a soft giggle slips out of your lips in response. "shut up." even as you say that, you already know his answer. if there was one bet you'd make without a doubt, it'd be that satoru can never seem to shut up whenever you're in his line of sight.

satoru's hands find themselves on your waist, and they turn you around so you're facing him. there's a different (but not unpleasant) look in his eyes as he gazes at you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"what is it?" you ask curiously, noticing the subtle change in his expression. his eyes soften from what looked like a teasing glance to an almost longing stare.

"nothing," he hums, kissing you in between your eyes. "you're just pretty."

satoru's hands thread themselves through your hair, lightly touching the back of your neck as his lips move down to brush against yours. you extract the lollipop from between your lips and tilt your chin up, kissing satoru with a little smile. like always, he tastes like sweetened peppermints, even though you've never seen him eat one before. you'll have to ask about that later, but for now, all you can focus on is the way satoru gently nips at your bottom lip as if he's asking for attention.

you hum softly, opening your eyes and squinting at satoru, who can't help but smile against your lips. "you taste like strawberries," he mumbles, peppering butterfly kisses on the corner of your mouth in between words. "so sweet..."

you exhale faintly, not wanting to pull away from his peppermint-scented lips, and let your eyes flutter closed again. something about the way satoru's hands rest delicately on your waist makes you feel more comfortable than you've been in a while. maybe it's just the hoodie satoru had forced on you earlier when he saw you were shivering, or maybe it's the steady beat of satoru's heart that's almost therapeutic against your chest; whatever the case, you can't remember the last time you've been this at ease.

between his complicated streaming schedule and your busy life, moments like these are rarer than you'd like, but that only makes them all the more special.

five, ten, maybe even fifteen minutes pass by in silence, with the only sound being the soft murmurs shared between you and satoru. his lips fit over yours like two pieces of a puzzle, and the way you fit in between his arms almost feels too good to be true. but thanks to the slender hand that slips underneath the waistband of your shorts and the gentle tug at the bottom of your shirt, you know only too well that this is real; and hopefully, it always will be.

[bttrflybb]

ANTIFRAGILE ❤︎ madara u. 18+

summary: the newlywedded uchihas have yet to fulfill their... obligations, even though they're coming up on a year anniversary. some think it's not going over as smoothly as expected, as many arranged marriages do. 'what a gentleman,' the old ladies would gossip at the fact that you were yet to be with child. it's funny, how wrong they are.

contains: madara x f!reader, arranged marriage (but you couldn't be more perfect for him), breed¡ng, preggo mentions, creamp¡es, mating press, light choking, praise (good girl, princess, doll), cerv stim, madara is a FREAK, reader matches it, uchiha love (he is fucking crazy)

your head hums each time you pull a groan from madara’s mouth into yours, straddling his waist with your chest flush against his as you tongue him down. “god- you’re insatiable, woman,” he murmured between a sloppy break in the kiss. a husky chuckle comes from him when he sees you already a mess of yourself. spit sticks strands of hair to your cheeks, your lips dripping in it- so pretty and swollen already.

your desperation was evident when he arrived home and you immediately approached him in a loose-fitting navy blue robe- certainly not yours judging by how it all but hugged your figure. he peered down at you when you wordlessly outstretched your arms to him, and his expression shifted once you were close enough that he could make out the mounds beneath the fabric. a thick arm hooks around your waist, his other taking a firm hold of your jaw for a kiss. madara loved you hard, an aggressive lover through and through. you were his, and he would make that fact apparent to everyone including you.

no other woman could match the energy madara exuded. you, however, were different. so much smaller than him, he clicked his tongue at your pitiful bow. your face remained unchanged, and you rose to look him in the eyes. madara felt something stir within him- he felt challenged, in a way. every woman before and without a doubt every woman after could not meet the eyes of the man, and if they did it was shaky and uncertain. never in a million years would he take such a woman’s hand. much to his fathers dismay.

it was much deeper than eye contact to him. to him, it was stability. it was significant of the fact that you matched him in beliefs and wits. to him, you were equal. you were weaker by many miles, but you were wise- somebody he would be proud to have by his side and make a mother.

marital manners were something quickly thrown out of the window though, because you matched him in one other thing.

desire. lust, you could say. you and madara were unapologetically attracted to each other in a carnal, unceremonious way. fuck making you shuffle around and bow to him in your own household. many would assume the two of you to follow such outlines firmly, but oh were they wrong.

even after he broke the kiss, your eyes stayed fixed on his face, searching for something. “what do you need, lover?” he’d break you from your little trance and you’d look him in the eyes, your fingers gripping wrinkles into his robe sleeves. “i need you, madara.” you’d purr.

and now you’re on top of him, his robe untied around you and the entire front of your bare body on display for him. ‘like an escort,’ he had chuckled when you tugged it free over top of him. “you look a fucking mess already, doll.” “for you, madara.” nothing sounded better than his name on your tongue. the two of you flash a sly smile at the other, like two animals pausing a fight for dominance before attacking the other. this time, it’s him. gloved firm fingers and a thumb nestle on each side of your neck, and he singlehandedly tugs you down by the throat to be centimeters from his face. “better be for me.” he squeezes and a breathless, silent yip comes from you. not from the action, but the sudden arousal it causes. “only you.” you weakly strain out. the pressure isn't enough to make you struggle, but enough to make you fuzzy. he nips part of his other glove between his teeth, unsheathing it and tossing it to the side. “let’s see what you’ve got for me then, hmm?” he murmurs, tugging you down into another kiss with one hand and the other finding it’s way to you already soaked cunt. a hot moan breaks from you and into his mouth at the contact, two thick fingers lazily rubbing at your clit.

it’s not long before he’s stretching you on them both- you make it so fucking easy for him. you choke when the hand around your throat pushes against you, separating the kiss with a breathless “phuahh..” from you. “pretty girl.” he smiles, admiring your fucked out face. “needed me home, didn’t you?” he gives your head a small shake, like you’re a toy he’s trying to get to work. “huh, doll?” “mhmm..” is all you can hum, catching your breath and swallowing the spit pooling behind your lower teeth. “it’s… it’s been two weeks…” you breathe, watching for his face to realize what you’re saying. “since i bled.” you can see the cogs turns behind those inky eyes of his, and your cunt throbs at the way they soften upwards.

you and madara fucked like rabbits when he was with you, but that was the thing. he wasn’t with you often, and when he was, it was horribly mistimed with your cycle. poor you had been left to get through every ovulation cycle on your own, left only with his robes soaked with the smell of oak, jasmine, and his musk.

“hahhh? is that what this is?“ his laughs send tremors through your body, still sitting atop him. “i’m still to give you an heir, aren’t i?” he chuckles, like it just slipped his mind. like that wasn’t the only reason you were arranged to be wed so quickly. everything is so hot to you that even that fact has got you tightening around nothing. the fact that such a traditional man is so lost in you he’s forgotten your joint marital duty. “mhmmm,” you hum, your hands finding their way to his chest, taking two handfuls of his breasts into your palm and softly raking your nails over them. “i’m still to carry it, madara.” your voice drips like syrup, and all he can think about is you, ripe with his child and in this same crested robe.

your cunt burns as he goes to the hilt, even when all you and your body needs is him, he’s still so big. “there you go, princess. you’ve got it.” he rumbles, licking his lips like he’s soaking up your noises and whines like an incubus. “fuck- you feel fucking good.” he shudders, pelvis to cunt with you. your legs are bent and your knees are to your shoulders, arms still drowned in fabric weakly splayed out across the futon. “you feel good- stretch me so good, madara-” you whine “yeah? do i, pretty girl? feels like this pussy was made for me,” he chuckles as you tighten around him at the statement, a weak whine crawling it’s way out of your throat. “jus’ for you, sir,” you weakly smile, and that title is enough for him to start moving.

your hands find your chest and you weakly squeeze and pinch at yourself while his cock splits you with each thrust, you feel so much but you’re somehow desperate for more. it’s not enough, you need more of him. “m-mada-raaa,” he fucks his name out of you, head tilting down at your pathetic little pleas. “more- i need f-fuh-hahhh.. fucking moreee,” you groan, eyes locking with his. he almost looks offended. “more? more??” he cackles.

in one swift movement, his hands are on either side of you and he’s leaning forward, still sheathed and curling you in on yourself with him. “you’re too fucking much, you know that, brat?” he hisses, punctuating that poisonous nickname with a small thrust that sends blissful agony shooting through your nervous system. “you take and take,” he pulls out, situating himself to stand on the balls of his feet now. “all you do is fucking take,” he buries himself- fully inside- balls practically to your fucking asshole, and you feel like you’ve fallen flat on your back with the wind that’s been knocked out of you. he's suddenly flush against every erogenous spot inside of you and you're sobbing. “but.. hahahh.. you’re so fucking perfect i just want to give.” for a moment, you swear you see red flash in those eyes of his. he looks crazed above you, eyes wide and weakly smiling, and you swear you’ve never felt more attracted to him.

you’ve already milked one load from him, warm cum shooting into you for maybe 20 seconds straight, but it’s not enough. he’s ramming it back into you, a milky white ring forming around the base of his cock as cum mixed with cream keep the two of you attached by strings of each other each time he pulls out, just to drive it directly back into you. you look fucking stupid on him, and he loves it. loves that pretty little fucked out face. loves bringing a hand up to smush your cheeks together and give you little smacks like he’s trying to wake you up. “thought you wanted more, doll.” “nghh.. i do… i want all of you- i need you, madara. you’re- hohhh, you’re all i n-need…” you pathetically babble. “you’ve got me, princess. i’ll fucking kill for you.” uchiha’s and the way they profess their love. isn’t it so dreamy?

tears stream down your pretty face, you feel so exposed beneath him like this. you’re getting the air fucked out of you again and your hands ball up as you focus on the increasing heat in your belly. “you’ve got it, doll. hahh- need you to finish- hahh, gotta make sure it takes- hahahh,” his filthy words make the turbulence of feelings you’re riding through even rougher, and a sob escapes from you as you teeter on the edge. “cum for me, princess. i’m- hah, i’m gonna finish too- gonna shoot right into you,” his words are separated with the loud wet plaps of your cunt meeting his pelvis, and the harmony of those noises and his vile speech create have got you throwing your head back onto the cushioned tatami. you’re not sure what he’s saying, but the rumble of his voice is the only thing that's keeping you grounded amid your nerve-frying orgasm. his fat, precise tip abusing your low-set cervix has you going crazy, and then a particularly hard thrust has the two flush against one another and he’s emptying directly into your womb.

madara isn't always so vocal, his roster of noises consists of low groans and huffs (and... laughs for some reason..?), but god you've got him falling apart. every clench around his wide dick has got him singing above you. "hahh-- good girlll," he growls, sucking air between his teeth. "don't waste a drop, take it all for me," he pulls out of you, falling back on his knees and letting you lower body unfold and drop. you're still twitching from your climax, every part of you feels fuzzy. like you're in a cloud. a rough thumb rips you back to the mortal plane as it grazes your clit and plugs your entrance. he tuts, "now what'd i say?" you whine, limp legs weakly jerking in reaction. "nnh- madaraaa..." you breathe. you're funny, he thinks. "whaddya say, princess?" "mmm... thank youuuu..." you giggle weakly, hands coming up to rub at your teary eyes. his smile is gentle as he looks at you- not so hungry compared to the others. you're just too sweet in your glow. you make him soft. and that dumb little smile you reciprocate has him even softer.

[pombeom]

pose away | yeonjun fic (nsfw)

nsfw, mdni!

pairings: enemies to lovers, arrogant model!yeonjun x sub photographer!reader

warnings: nicknames, slut shaming, blowjob, wall sex, markings, unprotected sex, hair pulling

a/n: this might be my favourite fic written yet! djsjkskssjjaka im craving mean yeonjun so bad rn! not proofread

Working as a freelance photographer bought its many challenges. Today was one of them. You hauled yourself out of bed early in the morning to begin setting up the make-shift studio in your living room. Whilst you were studying photography at a college, working part time gave you the opportunity to build up both your experience and portfolio. Often times you don’t get a choice as you take on whatever projects come your way. Even when the person you despised most on campus comes to you asking for a photoshoot, no matter how much you wanted to refuse, you agreed, setting up a date for your shoot which happened to be today. 

You move the lights arounds, working out the best places for them and begin creating an inspiration mood board on your phone before he arrives. The sun burned through the large windows, raising the inside inside your home so you turn on the aircon, hoping it would cool your house down in time for your guest’s arrival. You know he would complain about it being too warm being the spoiled brat he is. You didn’t want to take any chances, especially not today when he had promised you a large sum of money for your services even though you often charge little to nothing. 

Just as you finished setting up, cleaning up the final bits and bobs around the room, you hear the bell ring and not even a second later, a loud thumping on the door. 

“My god, he can’t even wait a second can he,” you sigh shaking your head at his impatience, already regretting accepting his clientele. 

You open the door to see a tall man standing arrogantly in front of you, wanting to wipe away that smirk on his face as he walked in, shoving past you. 

“Nice set up you there,” he says as he makes his own way through your living room, seating himself down on your leather sofa, manspreading his long legs. 

“Thanks,” you roll your eyes, attempting to suppress your annoyance. Why on earth is Yeonjun in your house right now? How did this even happen? 

He’s wearing a linen shirt, the first few buttons undone, and black slacks making his outfit look laid back in a put together kinda way. His long hair is styled so it’s tucked behind his ear but a few strands strayed and fell onto his face. No matter how much you hated him, you weren’t blind to the fact that he’s probably the most attractive person on campus. There’s a certain aura he possesses that just lures you in. But you were better than that. He doesn’t seem to control you the way he does other girls. No matter how many times you nearly slipped into his charm, you had always managed to bring yourself back. 

“Are you gonna tell me what to do, or are you just gonna keep staring at me like that?” His sharp voice brings you back, slightly embarrassed that he caught you. 

“I wasn’t staring, simply observing you to see what I’m working with.” 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve already “observed” me enough before. Unless you wanna keep staring, then go for it. I don’t mind. I know you like it too,” you let out a sigh, making sure he could hear it, rolling your eyes at his self-centredness. How you were to put up with this for another 3 hours was beyond you. 

“Come stand here. You see the green tape? Just make sure you stand behind it. You can pose away Mr Choi Yeonjun,” you instruct, getting behind the camera as he makes his way onto the white screen. 

Without needing much guidance, he gets into all sorts of poses. He starts off by crouching, sticking out his tongue, eluding with sexiness before shifting to another pose where he’s standing up again, hands in both pockets as he tilts his head ever so slightly but in all the ways that makes a difference. 

For the next 30 minutes, he is constantly moving while you’re almost having to do an entire workout just to keep up with him. The heat of the room also gets to you, your cheeks flushed red which Yeonjun notices. 

“Are you blushing from how good I look, doll?” his smirk, combined with the nickname sets you off, feeling the heat burn through your cheeks even more. 

“Shut up. How about we take a break?” You question, trying to distract you from the fact that you’re now ever so slightly turned on by his comment. 

With that, Yeonjun is slumped back on your couch, while you run to the kitchen, rummaging through your freezer trying to find an ice lolly to cool and calm you down. 

You discard the wrapper in the bin, taking the long stick of coloured ice in your mouth, sucking off the first layer is its juices. You moan at the feeling of the cold entering your mouth, as the ice begins to melt around it. Walking back to the living room, Yeonjun puts his phone down to look up at you, once again with a smile that has a mischievous allure plastered onto it. 

“Doll, you think you could suck a cock like that?” 

His remark has you pulling the ice lolly out your mouth instantly, making a pop as it comes out. Your jaw is left hanging as you feel the butterflies in your stomach travel up to your throat, leaving you speechless. 

He stand up and steps towards you ever so slowly that for some reason you wish he would go faster so he could be closer to you sooner. When he gets less than 2 feet away, you step back hitting the wall as his arms cage you, trapping you in his presence. His fingers wipe away the juice from your iced treat in one swipe as he takes it to his own mouth sucking off the liquid. Your eyes enlarge from the proximity and his actions, feeling the ice drop down your fingers as well as a wetness forming in between your legs. 

“I asked you a question. Do you think you could suck a cock like that?” 

“Mhmm…” you were only able to make a short sound while you nod your head, not shying away from his sharp gaze. 

“Why don’t you show me then, doll?” He caresses your hair before grabbing it into a tight ponytail and before you know it, you’re on your knees below him, almost seeming as if you were begging for his dick. 

With his free hand, he unbuttons his trousers letting them slip down his lean legs and as if on cue, you pull down his black boxers, his long cock springing out. Whilst he may have been an average on thickness, he definitely made up for it in length, so much so that you could already feel it hitting the tip of your cervix. 

“Come on doll, suck my pretty cock.” 

You begin by encapsulating just his tip in your mouth, letting the coldness from the ice transfer onto his hard length to which it reacts by twitching in your mouth as Yeonjun hisses. You slowly move up and down his shaft looking up at his face whilst doing so, meeting his eyes filled with lust. 

“You’re pretty mouth looks so good around my cock, doesn’t it, doll? Go faster.”

His grip on your hair tightens as he begins shoving his dick into your mouth as if on a rampage, tears falling from your eyes. His other hand grabs ahold of your chin, lifting it up further to better his view of what he was doing to you. Your moans vibrate against his cock, sending him into a high as he grunts with every pump. You feel him twitch in your mouth and before he can cum, he pulls out harshly, making the same pop as your ice lolly. Your sobs don’t stop even after he’s pulled out, craving to feel him more. Especially inside you. 

“Aww, is my doll crying because she wants me? I think I can help with that. Stand up,” he commands, his voice firm but flirty. His assurance only made him sexier at this present moment as much as you hated to admit it. 

Once you’re on your feet, he slams you back into the wall and pulls down your shorts in one swift move, revealing your white lace thong. 

“I knew my doll was a slut for me. Even if you hate to actually say it.” 

Your excuse was that you hadn’t done your laundry yet so you were left with your more extravagant pieces of lingerie but even you knew that deep down he was somewhat correct. 

You feel a sudden sensation as you feel Yeonjun’s lips attached to your neck, sucking under your ear, instantly having found your sweet spot. Melting under his magic touch, your hands automatically move around his neck, pulling him in closer, wanting to feel him more. 

“Yeonjun. Touch me please.” 

You were desperate for him and you hated it but with the puddle increasingly seeping through your underwear, you couldn’t care less, only wanting to feel him inside you. 

Yeonjun, strokes your clothed pussy, that being enough to send you off high, as you moan in his ears, humping his hands. 

“Such a slut for me, are you doll? Wonder what you’d be like if you had the real thing slamming into you?” 

And that’s exactly what he did. Pushing your thong to the side, he rams his cock in, not letting you adjust, pushing in and out of your pussy as he holds up your thigh, ensuring that he can hit into you deeper. With each thrust, you let out a sinful moan, as Yeonjun’s pride and ego skyrocket through the roof. As he picks up the pace he lifts you up, supporting you against the wall by holding up both your thighs. Even then, he didn’t slow down, continuing to slam his cock into you, abusing the top of your cervix over and over. 

“You’re so fucking hot, doll. Can’t wait to be cumming on you babe. Can’t wait to ruin you. You want that don’t you?” 

The way he thrusts has you feeling his cock all the way in your throat, making deep moans the only thing that come out your mouth. 

“Going dumb on my cock, doll? Such a slut aren’t you?” 

He rams into you even faster as you feel your orgasm getting closer. Your hole now sensitive as you feel the knot in your stomach build. 

“Yeonjun! I’m gonna cum!” You scream, wanting to reach your high. M

You let out one last moan as the orgasmix wave ripples through your entire body, leaving goosebumps on your skin. Yeonjun rides out your high before pulling out and pulling his own spurts of cum onto your T-shirt which you hasn’t removed. Your favourite black T-shirt was now stained with his cum, not knowing if a round of washing would help. 

You collapse as your legs were physically unable to hold you up but before you reach the ground, Yeonjun’s arms catch you, supporting your waist, helping you remain standing. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot. And you’re such a slut for me. If only I knew sooner. Would have fucked your brains out much sooner.” 

You finally fell. After 2 years of holding it back, you finally fell for Yeonjun’s charm and his lustful aura. Any sense of disappointment you would have felt was overridden with the fact that you had gotten the best sex of your life from this man you despise. 

[wendichester]

Hii sweetheart ✨🥺 I wanna request Dean with a fem!reader who can communicate and sense ghosts and other spiritual beings. And she was in an abusive relationship so she prefers spiritual beings over humans, because of that relationship.

°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ghost whisperer,

summary. not all humans are bad, but ghosts are still your comfort.

pairing. dean winchester x whisperer!reader

wordcount. 675

notes. thank you so much for requesting, hun. hope you like it ehe 🩷

The old Victorian house is dark and silent, the air thick with a chill that has nothing to do with the weather outside. Dean moves ahead, flashlight in one hand, shotgun in the other, while you linger near the entryway.

“Anything?” Dean asks, his voice low but steady.

You close your eyes, letting the cold prickle against your skin as you open yourself up. It doesn’t take long. A faint whisper brushes past your ear, followed by the soft sound of a child’s laughter echoing through the hallway.

“They’re here,” you murmur, your voice soft. “Two of them. A little boy and his mother. They’re not malicious, just... lost.”

Dean glances back at you, his sharp green eyes softening for a moment. “You sure about that?”

You nod, stepping closer to him. “They’re scared. Confused. Probably didn’t even realize they were gone.”

Dean watches as you move toward the staircase, your movements confident and purposeful. He knows this is your element. You’ve always been more comfortable with the spirits than with the living.

He follows you up the creaking stairs, his grip tightening on the shotgun. “You know, most people would be freaked out by the idea of talking to ghosts.”

You shrug, glancing back at him with a faint smile. “Most people haven’t been hurt by humans the way I have.”

Dean stops in his tracks, his jaw tightening. You didn’t say it to provoke a reaction—it’s just the truth. But he hates hearing it, hates knowing that someone out there hurt you so badly that you now find solace in the company of the dead.

“I get it,” he says quietly, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

You pause at the top of the stairs, turning to look at him. “Do you?”

He nods, his expression unreadable. “I’ve seen a lot of bad in people. Hell, I’ve been some of that bad. So, yeah. I get it.”

Something in his tone makes your chest tighten. You want to respond, but a faint tug at your senses pulls your focus.

“They’re upstairs,” you say, turning toward the end of the hallway.

Dean follows without another word, his presence steady and grounding behind you.

When you reach the room, the air grows colder. The boy is sitting by the window, his translucent form barely visible in the moonlight. His mother stands protectively behind him, her gaze wary but not unkind.

“Hey,” you whisper, crouching down to their level. “It’s okay. We’re here to help.”

The boy looks at you with wide eyes, and for a moment, it feels like the three of you are the only ones in the world. Dean stands silently behind you, watching as you coax the spirits into letting go, your voice calm and soothing.

When they finally disappear in a shimmer of light, you exhale, leaning back against the wall.

“You’re amazing at that,” Dean says after a moment, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

You glance up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It's not a big deal.”

Dean steps closer, crouching in front of you so you’re at eye level. “Maybe. But you’re still here. Still trying, even after everything. That’s what makes you amazing.”

The vulnerability in his voice catches you off guard. “Dean…”

He shakes his head, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “I mean it. You don’t have to trust people. You don’t even have to trust me. But I’m not going anywhere. I’m sticking around, no matter what.”

His words settle in your chest, warm and unfamiliar. You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thanks.”

He smiles, standing and holding out a hand to help you up. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I think we’ve done enough ghost whispering for one night.”

You take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. And as you walk out of the house together, you can’t help but think that if you're ever trusting another person again, Dean would be the right one.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine

[bunnyyyuu]

includes: implied f! reader, nothing but fluffff, PINK

for context, i dyed my hair hot pink this weekend with the help of my gf! but it came out red (though i love the red its my favorite hair color ive ever had). anyways that + yuuta brainrot =

yuuta’s eyes are squinted so small you worry if he can even see what he’s doing. his tongue is sticking out of his lips in concentration—how cute. his hair is out of his face in a little ponytail atop his head held up wjth one of your spare scrunchies. he’s gripping the brush with a gloved and as he meticulously worked.

you were tired of paying upwards of 200? 300? dollars for a new look. so, tonight, you’d asked your lovely boyfriend to dye your hair pink for you. he’d never dyed hair before, but, after studying a couple youtube videos with furrowed brows, he’s feeling relatively confident.

“sorry if i mess up your hair,” he murmurs for the upteenth time as he globs more hot pink goop on the naked section of your hair.

he was anxious—how could he not be? there was a chance he could ruin your hair and your confidence in just an hour or so. you just giggled, trying to stay as still as possible but your shoulders still shake a little.

“if you fuck my shit up and i have to go bald, will you still love me?” you ask. you can see him in the mirror hanging on your bedroom door you were seated in front of, a faint blush pinking your cheeks at just how adorably focused he looked.

“i’ll love you always,” he says simply, as if it was common sense.

“even if i’m bald? like shiny, not-a-single-strand-of-hair bald?” you continue pestering him.

“yes, yes, love your hair, but i would still love you without it." you can tell he’s struggling to juggle his task and your conversation, so you shut up.

he has you leaning over the edge of the tub an hour later, holding the detachable shower head. bright, neon pink water threatens to stain the porcelain white tub as he rinses your hair. your’re hissing at the freezing temperature of the water, eyes squeezed shut so tight as it streams down your face.

he keeps rinsing, occasionally running his hands through your sopping locks to check if there was any dye left on your scalp, until the water grew light enough to be safe.

he blow dries your hair after, mumbling apologies when you whine about the heat against your head. he’s not letting you look at yourself until it's all done, but you're pretty sure he likes it.

“it looks good,” he half-shouts over the sound of the hairdryer, “very pink!”

once your hair was all done, he pressed a kiss against the crown of your head before turning you to look at the mirror.

you’re looking at your reflection and he’s looking at you. he thinks you might be angel sent down from heaven as a reward for something great he did in a past life.

“yuuta!” you squeal, hands cautiously hovering over the bright strands, “it's so pretty!”

“you're so pretty,” he can't help to remind you—he does that a lot.

he just loves the way you're looking at yourself. he knows (for reasons he cannot even begin to comprehend) that you're not always satisfied with your appearance, even when he puts his best efforts to make you know just how gorgeous you are forth. but, now, you're staring at yourself with such glimmer in your eyes. he doesn't want you to ever look at yourself any other way again.

“do you like it?” he knows the answer before he asks it.

“i love it!” you turn to him, big grin painted on your lips, “i love you!” you throw yourself onto him and press a fat kiss against his forehead.

“i love you more.”

[osakhee]

sad summer daze, wonbin x reader

! wonbin has blonde hair in this, smoking and alcohol consumption, making out but nothing crazy

🎧 summer daze by all time low...

wonbin sighs as he digs his back into his seat. the music in his headphones covers the noise of the old and rusty fan that makes his blonde hair fly into his face. these days, even in the early morning, the temperature is unbearably hot, the sun casting shadows on the floor through the glass doors of the convenience store. wonbin already knows it will be another boring day where he would scroll through his phone, trying not to fall asleep on his chair with his feet on the counter. summer was never his favorite season, but with this job, he feels like each day lasts for a week, only making his shift hours longer.

the clock hits nine and wonbin stretches his arms, his white tank top riding up to show a glimpse of his stomach, and he stands up to go through the empty aisles. now away from the metallic fan, the air becomes a lot thicker and the sudden warmth almost makes him dizzy. wonbin ties his hair into the smallest ponytail to stop the strands from sticking to his neck due to the invisible layer of sweat covering his skin. a few blonde hairs still fall in front of his eyes as he checks out every shelf, he makes mental notes of what's missing to refill them.

the store is dusty, the tiled floor that used to be white turned into a ash grey color, and the windows that let the sun inside leave a yellowish glow on the walls. behind wonbin's counter, piles of magazines and diverse boxes threaten to fall each time his elbow hits them, his eyes filling with panic at the thought of having to put them back in order -even though it would probably be more entertaining than dozing off-. no matter how hard he tried to clean, the black marks on the counter never left and the old stickers on the walls never really got fully off. and the best part? most of the time, it's just wonbin inside of the store, either with his music, looking at his phone, or the creaking sound of the fan while he stares at the ceiling that looks like it would fall on his face.

wonbin expected nothing from this summer job. he's not really a person with a lot of expectations. for him, summer isn't like any young adults movie cliché, no pool parties, no hookups, no holidays at the beach, no all nighters at the club, no afternoons with his friends. summer is more of a brutal reality. at least during the year, he's lucky enough to stay at his university's dorm, he cherishes each of his music and composition classes that gives him a comfortable routine. but as soon as the first days of the summer break start, wonbin is thrown back into the real and harsh world. a world where his angel face and voice would not get him anywhere. and who would get money to monthly repay the electric guitar he got last semester if not himself?

anyway, i just need a job, wonbin thought. he would have wanted one with little to no human interaction, his reserved personality being an obstacle to most place he went too. never from the employer, only from himself. the cafes were too busy, the restaurants too loud, and working at the train station really? wonbin could barely remember his way through the same supermarket he's been going to for the past year, so giving people directions? not his thing. and when wonbin saw the notice on the small convenience store near his friend's apartment that they were looking for someone for the summer, he was already desperate. he only wanted two things, getting out of anton's place that reeked like alcohol everyday and finally make some money. he never really expected that he would sometimes go days without seeing anyone, anton living quite far from the city center. most of the time, it was either busy workers coming in the last hour of his shift for premade dishes or kids buying candies and ice creams after going to the local pool. and wonbin was just a passerby in their lives, he's just "the cashier", "the young blonde boy", and it was more than fine for him.

wonbin fills with new bottles one of the shelves, he keeps one under his arm for himself. it's hot and he's working, and who would see that anyway? he checks the other aisles when the glass doors make a very uncomfortable noise, and the silence that was once only broken by the fan is replaced by loud chatters. wonbin walks back to his counter with a sigh, he avoids the customers by walking through the very last aisle of the small store, and he sits back down on his chair. he gets down half of the water bottle he took from the back, and the duo of people his age come up to him with much needed groceries. different alcohol bottles and cans, small snacks, and a pack of cigarettes, they both add when wonbin looks up at them from his seat. he doesn't need to ask for their id, wonbin already knows them. they don't follow the same course in university but they're good friends of anton. are they actually friends? wonbin just believes all the party goers are somehow friends.

"aren't you anton's friend? wonbin right? you play the guitar."

wonbin just nods, and hands the pack of cigarettes with a bored look. not that his job is really interesting, but he isn't there to make friends either. one of them gives him some cash and wonbin hands him back the change without saying anything else.

"i don't see why anton is friend with you, you're so... you know. well..."

the silence is too loud in wonbin's ears. what is he, silent? reserved? introverted? uninteresting? different? both the guys in front of him just scoff when wonbin looks into their eyes. wonbin knows his beloved friend anton only keeps him around for his own good. he's great, top student, he never misses a single day or assignments. he knows the sleepy bass player enjoys his presence during class because wonbin doesn't talk much and his handwriting is easy to read for when he'll copy the lesson later. though anton is a really nice person, and their friendship based on their musical composition classes gives wonbin a great opportunity : having somewhere to sleep during this awful summer instead of going back to his even more awful hometown.

"why don't you come to tonight's party with anton? is it not good enough for you?"

"none of your business."

"you know, being alive isn't so bad. you should try."

their laughters echo in the empty store and the door closes behind them. wonbin leans against his chair, his head drops back, the fan messes with the strands he couldn't tie. what's the link between late night parties and being alive, is he missing something? suddenly he feels upset. concerts are the only loud place he enjoys, not cramped apartments full of alcohol and other addictive things he doesn't really want to try. he never really had fun when he followed anton to the uni end of exams celebrations, all he remembers is being sick after two drinks and his heart beating in his ears when he woke up the next day. he felt lightheaded for hours, never again, he told anton who seemed to do just fine when they met in class later.

the day is slow. wonbin decides he needs a break before the horrible noise of the fan makes him insane. he hasn't seen anyone in hours, it's hot but sunny, and the air inside the convenience store feels so stuffy and heavy wonbin can barely breathe. he opens the large freezer and chooses a blue popsicle before walking outside. he rests his back against the wall next to the glass doors, the cold treat resting between his lips. if it's hot inside the store, outside is even worse, the sun feels like a burn on his skin. his ice cream doesn't help, it melts in his hand and drips down his fingers, so wonbin is quick to finish it. and with a sigh, he walks inside the small shop to go back to his previous activity : falling asleep on his counter.

his alarm rings at 6pm, wonbin stretches his sore arms with a pleased noise and grabs the set of keys, turns off all the lights and the fan -that stops with a clanking sound-. it's still really hot and bright when he steps outside, locking the doors behind him. his headphones find their place back on his head, music loud in his ears as he walks back to his friend's place. anton would be out tonight, which means he'll have the apartment for himself. it's easy to tell it's friday night from the people outside. middle aged men hurrying home, kids playing outside with no parents in sight, students excitedly coming back from their summer classes and heading to the latest club. out of all of them, wonbin just walks with one thing in mind, finally settling back on his friend's couch like it's a luxurious bed and sleeping. wonbin feels pity for himself. what a sad fucking summer.

anton rests against the window, he blows out the smoke of his cigarette when the door opens. he turns his head to look at wonbin, his blonde hair friend walks inside and drops himself on the couch without even taking his headphones off. his eyes flicker to anton and he lazily gets up as his friend hands him the pack of nicotine from a distance. the cigarette rests between wonbin's lips as he lits it, he inhales deeply and the weight on his shoulders slowly fades away just like the white smoke in the air. there's this comfortable silence between the two of them, until wonbin breaks it after exhaling deeply.

"who's party are you going to tonight?"

"sungchan's. why?"

"can i come with you?"

from anton's expression, wonbin guesses his friend had no idea he was about to ask that. they both lived on different timezones in the same apartment. while anton would enjoy his summertime, partying from the moment the sun sets until the early morning, coming home with the smell of whatever drinks he had clinging to his clothes, wonbin's evenings were quiet, lost into music sheets and his guitar resting on his lap. his own safe haven, like a home for himself even if anton's apartment is far from home to him.

"are you sure about that wonbin?"

"i figured it wouldn't kill me to... try to live."

"oh."

is that all you have to say? the question burns on wonbin's lips but he stays silent. there's no need to explain why he wants to join him. maybe this experience will be better, maybe he will hate every second of it, but he at least needs to give it a try, again. anton chuckles and gives a pat on his shoulder before leaving wonbin alone at the window. wonbin tries to gather some thoughts but it all gets lost into the swirl of smoke coming out of his lungs. he clings to the sound of anton getting ready behind him, his bassist friend hurrying around the apartment to find his belongings scattered everywhere. there's nothing for wonbin to take with him other than a black zip up hoodie covered in blue crosses and his phone dipped into his pocket. everything else is anton's possession. they get down the dirty stairs of the old building, a warm breeze messes up wonbin's hair, and he reaches behind him to untie them. as they both walk in the loud silence of the city, anton lits himself another cigarette.

sungchan's apartment is dark. it's packed, it's messy, and it's hot. there's a smell so strong it makes wonbin lightheaded, a mix of alcohol, cigarette, heavy perfume and too many people's scents at the same time. he already regrets his decision, looking for a way out, but with the half drunk anton holding his shoulder tightly, it's impossible to even try. the music is so loud in his ears, he can't barely hear what anton tells him. is this what being alive feels like? then it fucking sucks, wonbin doesn't realize he speaks out loud.

go have some fun, just be yourself. what a easy thing to say. maybe alcohol would help wonbin with his tied tongue, and he makes his way to the kitchen. he lost anton... somewhere. he has no idea where he came from and which way he needs to go, the dim lights and the waves of people threaten to drown him. he finally reaches the cold white counter in the kitchen and almost messes up all the cups. wonbin contemplates the different drinks. first he eliminates all the ones he doesn't know, then the few ones he remembers anton got sick of, which didn't leave much options available. he chooses the last beer bottle that stood in the corner, the taste of alcohol burning his throat along with the strong aroma of cherry. not bad, wonbin would even say he likes it.

wonbin still takes the first exit he finds, which happens to be the balcony door. it's finally night outside, the air cooler and breathable. on the balcony, there's no one else but wonbin. people are too busy clinging to each other inside, not caring about the city's show of lights or the few stars that painted the sky. wonbin reaches for the half pack of cigarettes anton gave him before he lost him in the crowd, and he takes a while to form a thought, looking at the rolled paper between his fingers. is drinking and smoking all by himself a good idea? wonbin would never find out, because when he looks around his pockets, he can't find a lighter. the smoke between his teeth, brows furrowed, he checks his back pocket again with no luck.

the familiar click of metal makes him turn his head, the dancing flame lighting up his face. alone with him on the balcony, there's you, holding up a lighter to his face. the night feels warm, his skin glistens and his eyes shine until the fire disappears. wonbin feels stuck in place, stuck to the ground when he meets your eyes, he stops breathing. the world around him is on pause when you take a step closer. wonbin lowers his head a little, strands of blonde hair falling in front of his eyes, and you click the lighter again until the edge of his cigarette burns with a faint smoke. wonbin's face brightens with the flame, it dances in his eyes, and make every details and flaws look more precise. and there's the silence. the cars vanished from the streets and the music stopped playing from the windows. your eyes are locked with wonbin until he looks away to blow the smoke on the side, and suddenly the noises start again, filling your ears and his.

wonbin's heart beats to an unsteady rhythm. is it the addictive taste of the cigarette mingled with the cherry of his beer or the intensity deep in your eyes when he turns back to you? wonbin can't find an answer. his mind feels foggy just like his lungs, and he breathes out the smoke once again, resting his arms on the edge of the balcony. you do the same, your elbow brushing his, and warmth blooms from the single touch. it courses wonbin's veins the same way alcohol does, it makes his face hot, and more than that, it stirs something in his stomach, a mix between fireworks and a roller coaster. maybe a bit of both. both your arms touching feel comfortable, like a special link between the both of you as if the windows of the balcony took you both to another place.

"i was wondering why someone like you was alone out there."

wonbin turns to you. of course it's someone like him again, like anyone else thinks. wonbin hopes you will be quite creative at least, so is he pathetic or just weird?

"what do you mean by that?"

"you're beautiful."

the words get stuck into wonbin's throat just like the smoke of his cigarette and he's forced to cough. blush tints his cheeks, ears and neck, he's thankful his face is engulfed by the night so you don't see how fuzzy your words make him feel. this time the silence is thick and heavy, wonbin knows you're looking at him, and he's too scared to dare laying his eyes into yours, he's scared the actual party would happen in his stomach and he'd feel shooting stars in his heart and body. the deep breath he takes is hidden by his cigarette.

"you're really pretty too."

"did you need a break from the party?"

"i'm not really a party guy. too loud for me."

too loud, too much people, too much scents, but if it means seeing you then wonbin wouldn't complain anymore. if you like parties then wonbin will like parties, if you want to drink wonbin will gladly drink with you.

"honestly me neither, i just followed a few friends. they're somewhere inside."

"mine is too, he kinda gave up on me."

"you smell like cherries."

you catch him off guard again and wonbin swears you're secretly trying to kill him. you're trying to take his heart out of his chest and put it in your pocket to keep it safe, and wonbin would even hand it to you. he gives up on his cigarette and faces you, he straightens his back and tries to appear more confident. with nothing but a quick look, he hands you his bottle of beer, it's almost empty but more than enough fo you to have a taste of the fruity alcohol. wonbin doesn't know what he wants, all he knows is that the time stopped again. he remembers how his days at the convenience store felt like weeks, and right now it's just the same, every second feels like an hour, every move slowed down to match the pace of his breathing. the drink stays in his hand, you make no move to take it, so wonbin brings to his lips to take a sip. you watch him swallow the burning liquid and the droplet that rolls down his chin and neck, the way he licks his lips afterwards.

"is it good?"

"it is."

"can i try it?"

it's like you both knew. like you both spoke to each others through your minds and eyes. wonbin's hand cups your jaw and you grip his shoulders before he presses his lips on yours, the sour cherry taste filling your senses. the kiss he gives you is like a dream, the kind of kiss you expect only in movies. his hand that holds your face wraps around the back of your neck and brings you closer, until one of your hand reaches for his hair to keep his face in place. wonbin is slow, lips warm from his drink, and your mouth only makes it warmer. the candy-like taste of his beer mixed with his cigarette makes you addicted, you feel high, high on him and the scent that clings to him. the fingers you tangled in his hair play with his blonde strands and wonbin deepens the kiss a little more, his tongue pushes on your lips for an entrance. you deny it, and wonbin parts away, he gives a quick peck on your lips to get rid of the strand of saliva that still connected the both of you.

his flushed face and half lidded eyes, the heavy rise of his chest and his parted lips, it takes your breath away. you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, and wonbin rests his bottle on the balcony, his now free hand finds its place on your waist. sungchan is lucky to have such a big apartment and such a large space outside, wonbin makes a mental note to thank him later. he guides you further away on the terrace until the few lights coming from the opened windows stop shining on your face. you can barely see wonbin now swallowed by the night, but you can feel him. you feel his fingertips under your shirt, grazing your skin without going further, you feel his mouth in your neck as he kisses behind you ear, you feel his chest against yours each time he remembers to breathe and stay alive, you feel the star charm of his necklace on your collarbone. wonbin feels you too, your finger mindlessly twirling a strand of his hair, your arm wrapped around his shoulder, your head resting against his and your breath on his skin. it's like a fever dream, wonbin wonders if the alcohol and the hot weather messed him up and created some kind of illusion to play with his heart. but when your hand lays on his chest and feels the loud beating under his skin, louder than the music, wonbin knows he's more than awake.

he rests his forehead against yours and for a few seconds, you admire his face so close, your fingers caress his chin and lips, follow his jaw and rest on his cheek. you want again the feeling of his lips, you want the drug he seems to get you on and flows your system like liquid fire. you presses your lips on the mole on his jaw and savor the small noise in wonbin's throat before he holds your face again to kiss you. this time you let his tongue meet yours in a heated valse, your arms wrap fully around wonbin's neck and he pushes you against the balcony railing, both hands resting behind you. he traps you against, towers you and takes control of the movements of your lips, he takes the lead of your heartbeat and your shaky breaths between his warm kisses.

wonbin can't get enough, the more time he spends tangled in your lips, the less he feels like he could keep living without it. now you taste like cherries too. one of wonbin's hand claw at your waist, he brings you closer until there's no more space. he needs to breathe, but dying this way sounds like heaven, you're slowly taking away his life by making him addicted to you. his fingers feel at home on your skin just like your hand in his hair. wonbin allows himself to breathe only to trail his lips on your jaw and down your neck, his mouth hot and swollen as he discovers your body. but he doesn't want to get away from your mouth, he steals your lips again and again, blown pupils lost into yours before you finally hold his head steady.

wonbin feels like a kid that's denied a sweet treat, but in a desperate way, he's about to throw a tantrum to have his favorite candy back. you brought him up to heaven and stole his soul, he surrendered to you having his heart in your hand. his nails dig into your hips gently as a warning, he brings his face closer, and you finally say the magic words.

"wanna get out of here?"

boom fireworks in his stomach, fireworks in his head and fireworks in his heart. the sparkles race in his veins and ring in his ears.

"i don't have a place to go."

"but i do."

wonbin's lips crashes against yours again, he wants to ground himself and tell himself it's not a dream. his teeth bite your bottom lip and you tug on your hair, he traps you again on the balustrade, his hand now finding your back to press yourself against him. wonbin gives you a kiss on the corner of your lips before licking his own. he finally breaks into a smile when you push yet again his hair out of his face. you take his hand, and you both hold tight when you walk through the drunk people in the apartment. this time the door is easy to find, and the empty streets somehow feel really comforting. your hand in his, fingers intertwined walking in a direction wonbin doesn't even know. this must be it, this must be what being alive feels like and what they all talk about, wonbin wonders if he's too drunk on his cherry beer or the taste of you for these thoughts to cloud his mind. yet they're all he can think about, and he wouldn't want it any other way.

a sad fucking summer indeed, a summer daze he hopes never fades away.

[its-time-to-write]

for anyone else who needs comfort in the form of a sick fic. but written specially for @coloursofyen🩵

there for you

Jamie’s alarm goes off at precisely 3:26am, which is what he says is the optimal time to wake up for training with Roy. He rolls over and feels for your warm body on the other side of the bed, frowning when he feels nothing but the cold covers next to him. You’ve been out of bed for a while, then.

He sits up, and as he wipes the sleep from his eyes he notices a light coming from the en suite. Jamie hops out of bed and taps on the door.

“Babe? You alright?” he asks.

He’s met by a retching sound so he pushes open the door to find you kneeling in front of the toilet. Sweat makes strands of hair stick to your face, and your face is unnaturally pale. You blink blearily at him as he sits against the doorframe.

“I think I have a stomach bug,” you croak.

Jamie’s unable to stop a grin. “What makes you think that?”

You’re too tired and nauseous to flip him off. You’ve been awake for more than an hour, thinking first it might be something you ate. 

Then you remembered one of your coworkers called out sick earlier in the week, followed by your supervisor two days later. Seems like it’s your turn now.

You manage to get out, “It’s going around the office,” before turning your face back to the bowl.

Jamie makes a sympathetic face and moves to rub your back.

“I’m gonna get you some water, babe. You want anything else? Crackers? Toast? I think we have shit for soup later today, if you think you can keep it down,” he says.

“Roy,” you say, sticking to easy words.

Jamie gently pats your back. “Nah, don’t worry about him. He’ll be glad to have the morning off.”

“You have a match on Sunday,” you remind him. “You can’t catch this.”

Jamie disregards this and presses a kiss to the side of your head. “The lads’ll be fine without me. Give some second-teamer a chance to be on the pitch. Besides, it’s against Bournemouth.”

You make a face. Bournemouth is at the bottom of the league, and at the moment a match against them is essentially free points.

“It feels awful,” you rasp.

Jamie readjusts his position on the floor. “Babe, I’m a fucking… specimen. I’m like, so fucking healthy that viruses bounce right off me. I’m not gonna catch it.”

You shake your head and retch again. That’s what you had thought.

“Let me text Coach,” Jamie says. “I’ll sit here as longs as you need, or I can grab a bowl so you can go back to bed. Actually, let’s go to the guest room while I change the sheets in here, yeah? All hygienic, like. I can make mum’s special soup, think we’ve got everything for it. Can order it if not. Just don’t worry about it, alright? Your body’s a temple, or whatever fucking Lasso says.”

You crack a half-smile at that. For as much as Jamie loves football, he loves you more. Only slightly more, but you’ll take it. 

He says, “Come on, up you get,” and half-lifts you to a standing position. Once you’re settled in the guest bed with the tv on and a lime soda, he heads downstairs to figure out what you might be able to eat. He ends up bringing you toast, a banana, and a sleeve of crackers, then getting into bed next to you.

“Sheets are in the wash,” he says. 

“Don’t get too close to me,” you warn. “You’re going to catch this fucking bug.”

“Won’t,” he responds smugly.

“Will,” you argue.

“Won’t,” he repeats with such confidence that you wish Roy were still coming over to smack him down a little bit.

Will, you silently mouth.

—

That fucker doesn’t even get so much as a sneeze.

[peachsukii]

Hihi, Peach!

I totally don't know if you're even taking asks, and you can ignore this if I you need to but! I had such a horrible, terrible day and I was hoping you could write something small to make me feel better about everything.. 😅

So, seven hours ago, I was a bright blonde but I needed a touch up so I went into the salon and payed 100 dollars for some upkeep.. I sat patiently for nearly six and a half hours, only to turn out with white/bleachy ashy roots and dark brown hair...... So not what I wanted! I sobbed in that stylists chair until my hair dryer and she just brushed ut off. Everyone has been telling me that it looks fine but compared ro the bright, beachy blonde that I came in with, I feel blatantly ugly now.. ☹️

Could you maybe write a super quick drabble or something about how Bakugo would try to comfort? If not, I totally get it! I adore your work so much.

Have the best day, lovely! 💕💕

Awww I'm so sorry to hear that :( There's nothing worse than getting the opposite of what you want, and paid for, done! I hope you don't mind that I use this little prompt for a Softie Sunday piece. <3

₊✩‧₊ ⎯  picture perfect 『 ♡ Bakugo x reader 』

content // age 22, fluff. reader & bakugo live together, he dyes your hair for you. :) 『 #reis softie sundays + softie sundays archive 』

Bakugo's sitting on the couch of your shared apartment, invested in his book while the TV buzzes in the background. He hears your key turn in the door and peaks over the pages toward the foyer, patiently waiting for you to reveal your new hair. You've been gone for over half the day - he assumed you'd be a few hours, but not...all day. Maybe you went with something completely different than usual?

When the door opens, you scuttle inside with your head hung low, a baseball cap covering your hair. Bakugo could somewhat see your hair sticking out from underneath. Why the hell were you hiding it?

"Didn't ya just get your hair done?" he calls from the living room. "What's with the hat?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," you say quietly, taking off your shoes and retreating to the bedroom. Without hesitation, Bakugo tosses his book onto the cushion and quickly perks up to follow you back to your joint bedroom. He leans on the doorframe, curiously watching you pace back and forth in front of the mirror.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asks, arms crossed over his chest. You slowly reach up to take off your hat, untucking your hair and letting it fall naturally.

"I hate my hair."

Bakugo gives you a once over, confused as to why you'd be upset. "S'nice. You're always pretty to me, sweetheart. What's wrong with it?"

"Over six hours and it came out the opposite of what I wanted. They stripped out my blonde color and replaced it with...this." You pull a strand of hair forward as example, showing off the new brownish color.

"I could fix it for ya," he proposes while walking over to you, fluffing your hair gently in his hands. "Used'ta bleach Red's hair for him back in school."

You sniffle and lean against his shoulder. "I'd like that."

He never ceases to surprise you.

Within the hour, Bakugo's back home with all the needed materials to fix your hair - toner, bleach, and gloss. Over the next few hours, he's tending to your hair to help bring it back to what you wanted, extremely focused on doing a perfect job. By the time you're all finished, it's way past his normal bedtime. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he's exhausted, but you're his number one priority - sleep can wait until Bakugo knows you're happy.

Once he's done drying your hair, he brushes it out for you before letting you look in the mirror, admiring his work. For an at home job, it's not half bad. He spins you around and playfully pushes you toward the bathroom mirror, smirking proudly when he catches your initial reaction.

"Wha'cha think?"

You're in awe. How the hell did he do this?!

"Katsuki...it's perfect!" you exclaim while flipping your hair around to see the subtle dimension of color shifting. "Exactly what I wanted. Thank you!"

He hugs you from behind and leaves a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Ya look gorgeous no matter what," he reminds you as he squeezes you tightly. "But I gotta say, I did a damn good job. Now let's get'ta bed already, I'm beat."

When you wake up the next morning, Bakugo compliments your appearance a multitude of times while the two of you are getting ready for work, reminding you just how beautiful you are to him in any light.

I hope this made you smile! <3

all tags; @kirishimaeijiromyman @strwbrrykthv @slayfics

@maddietries @starieqq @liluvtojineteyam

@jays-adventure3 @simp-plague @napbatata @queenpiranhadon

[lilacmingi]

CAPTIVE

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Pirate!Seonghwa x fem reader

Word count: 7,803

Note: Another imagine from 2022 from Wattpad! Seonghwa is a major jerk at first oof but he softens up <3

You woke up to the most maddening sound, like a commotion in the streets. You tried to ignore it, assuming it was just some drunkards in the streets. You attempted to use your pillow to block out some of the noise, which didn't work too well seeing as it only muffled the pestilent sounds.

When the noise persisted, you sat up, grumbling to yourself as you got out of bed, going to investigate the continuous racket. Shuffling to the front door, you flung it open only to be met with chaos. Families were tied up outside their houses as they were being raided, those that weren't tied up were running rampant in the streets shrieking and shouting for help. Men dressed in dingy loose-fitting shirts and cropped trousers ran about in the streets laughing and howling like lunatics. Some held large swords, using it to slash ropes around crates, others held muskets, using them to threaten civilians.

Your throat went dry as you grasped the situation unfolding in front of you. These men weren't regular thieves, they were pirates and your town was being looted.

You hurried to close your front door, only to be stopped by one of the men who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

"'Scuse me, lass, but it seems we haven't been in your house yet." The grimy pirate grinned wickedly, showing off his stained teeth.

"No." You spoke firmly.

"No?" He raised a brow. "You've got moxie don't you, little lady?"

"Leave."

He let out a dry chuckle. "If you don't keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, your supplies won't be the only thing I take back to the ship."

Your face immediately contorted, a deep frown of disgust pulling at your lips.

"Kiss my—"

The clicking sound of a musket made you shut up immediately.

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you."

You gulped. "Alright. I'll let you in."

The pirate moved to take a step inside, and when he did, you slammed the door in his face, causing him to stumble backwards.

"Why you." He growled, advancing towards you.

You didn't have a chance to escape or even fight back. The pirate yanked you outside into the dusty streets, pulling a rope from his satchel before tying it tightly around you, your arms constricted by the abrasive cable. He shoved you down, forcing you to sit on your knees in the dirt.

"Maybe that'll teach you a lesson." He hissed before stepping inside your house.

At that point, you could do nothing but sit idly and allow that sea rat to ransack your home.

Minutes passed and the man stepped out with an armful of supplies. You saw spices, a few of your candles, and even soap, which was odd because the plunderer in front of you didn't look like he had bathed a day in his life.

"Look at you sitting there all defenseless like that." He taunted.

You clenched your jaw.

"I've just raided your home and there's not a thing you can do about it." He smirked, sticking his face up in yours.

That was the last straw.

Without thinking, you thrust your head forward, giving the man a harsh and powerful headbutt. The man clutched his head in agony, the stolen items falling to the ground.

"That's it. You asked for it!" He growled, lunging for you.

He was swiftly jerked backwards by the arm before he could lay a finger on you. Someone had reached out and grabbed your assailant's upper arm. You glanced over to see who your savior was.

He was tall with a slender frame and carried a sort of superior energy. His dark hair was mostly pushed away from his face, save for a few dark strands hanging over his forehead. He wore a long cream colored coat with a corset of some sort around the abdomen area. He donned black gloves on his hands, black pants and matching boots. His face remained placid but firm as he addressed the pirate.

"What's going on?" He asked.

"She headbutted me, Captain!"

Captain? Crap.

This "Captain" turned to you, a faint smirk of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Looks like we've got a feisty one on our hands." He said, bending down to your eye level.

You spat in his face in response.

He closed his eyes in mild annoyance as he retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket, using it to wipe his face. He stood upright, gazing down at you sharply.

"Put her on the ship."

"Yes, Captain."

"And clean up that mess." He gestured to the fallen (stolen) items on the ground.

"Yes, Captain."

The objects that had fallen to the ground were gathered and tossed into a sack. Still tied up, you were jerked to your feet by the grubby pirate and shoved forward down the street.

"This is absurd!" You voiced. "You have no right to be doing this!"

"We're pirates, dear. We don't care about rights."

You jerked in his grip, wanting desperately to escape.

"I don't even have shoes on." You complained.

"That's the least of your problems." The captain spoke up.

That's when the panic really set in.

What was going to happen to me? You thought.

You then began to think of the worst possible scenarios. You could end up locked in the brig, fed to the sharks, tortured, or worse. These men could do things to you—things that you would by no means consent to.

You could feel the blood drain from your face at the thought.

Next thing you knew, you were standing on a dock, the weathered wood pressing into the bottoms of your bare feet. The captain of the ship stepped up the gangplank, shouting orders to the crew still on board.

"Prepare for departure!"

He then withdrew a pistol from its holster strapped around his waist. He held the gun up to the sky and gave off two shots, the loud sound resonating in the air.

"Bring our hostage on board." He ordered the pirate who still had a tight hold on the ropes tied around you.

"Yes, Captain." He spoke, shoving you forward.

You stumbled up the gangplank and onto the ship. The crew was hard at work, moving hastily around the deck, preparing to depart from the dock.

Moments later, groups of grimy men boarded the ship, their arms laden with items that were looted from innocent civilians' homes. You frowned, saddened at the though of all those poor people with barren shelves and messy houses.

"Get a move on, will ya?" The pirate complained behind you.

You moved forward, the rough wood of the deck scraping against your bare feet.

"Captain, where should I put her?" He asked.

"Tie her to the mainmast."

"As you wish."

You tried fighting back as you were dragged towards the large, wooden beam, but it was useless. You weren't strong enough to break free, but that didn't stop you from trying. Screams of protest left your mouth as you thrashed around, making it as difficult as you could for the pirate trying to keep hold of you.

The captain merely stood off to the side and watched in amusement. A look of satisfaction spreading across his features as you were ultimately tied to the main mast. A second crew mate hurried over with thick ropes in his hands, assisting in fastening you to the mast. The first pirate that had harshly escorted you onto the ship insisted on being the one to tie you up, making sure the ropes were uncomfortably snug around you.

He gave you a nasty grin when you shifted uneasily under the abrasive restraints, content at your discomfort. You knew this would only be the beginning of your suffering.

Your entire upper body was pressed against the mainmast, you weren't able to move at all. You kept your eyes cast downwards, staring at the boards.

Captain Seonghwa strode towards you, his boots thumping heavily against the wooden deck as he held a shotgun in one hand.

"Look at me." He ordered.

You kept your gaze low, not daring to look up at him.

"Did you not hear me? I said look at me." He repeated a little more harshly.

You then saw the barrel of a shotgun in your sights. The end was pressed under your chin, lifting your face up to look at Seonghwa.

You glared at him with the most hatred you could muster, keeping a brave face.

His hard expression faltered momentarily at the intensity of your stare. He was quick to recover, putting on that same tough guise as he glowered down at you.

"You filthy pirates think you can take whatever you want." You hissed.

"We can."

"Not without consequences."

"You sure have a mouth on you." He commented, ignoring your statement as he looked you over, seemingly contemplating something. "I wonder what I should do with you." He murmured, thoughtfully, his head tilting to the side. "I could blow your head off right now... or I could keep you around for entertainment."

Your face twisted in distaste.

"You're disgusting."

He let out an amused chuckle. "I didn't mean it like that, dear. But, if you're offering, I can't say no."

You spat at him for a second time, your saliva landing right on his perfectly polished boot. His top lip curled into a snarl as he moved the barrel of his gun into your mouth.

"You'd better keep that to yourself."

Now you were scared. Seonghwa could see that. He smiled in satisfaction, lowering his weapon.

"If you don't keep that mouth of yours shut, I'll gag you with a piece of cloth."

As much as you wanted to make a snappy remark, you didn't want your speaking privileges to be taken away. You had more quips to use on Captain Seonghwa.

He turned on his heel, facing his crew.

"Prepare the sails!" He ordered, harshly. "Let's get out of here."

You watched as he strode away, going to steer the ship away from the docks. The only thing you could do was sit and watch as the giant vessel departed from the port, your ravaged town getting smaller and smaller, not looking away until it was nothing but a mere dot.

The crew busied themselves around you, not paying any mind to you at all.

So this is how it's gonna be until they let me go... or kill me.

You dropped your head, letting out a sigh. There was no use in trying to find a way out of this situation. You didn't have anything with you to cut the ropes and you surely wouldn't be able to wiggle your way out of them. You'd be stuck like this for... well, you weren't sure.

At some point, the crew mates started making their way to their sleeping quarters, the main deck getting emptier by the second. You watched as they passed you by, not acknowledging you. It wasn't long before Seonghwa walked by, heading to the captain's quarters.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed. Goodnight." He responded, casually.

Just then, a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.

"You wouldn't dare leave me here overnight."

"Try me." He smirked.

You were left outside.

As if your situation wasn't bad enough, it ended up raining—hard. You were left freezing cold, soaking wet, and shivering. Since you were kidnapped in the middle of the night, the only thing you had on was your nightgown, which was very thin and providing you no warmth at all. For the time being you were thankful for the ropes, as they were giving you a little protection and warmth.

You were uncomfortable and cold, yet somehow, you were able to sleep. You assumed you got so tired that you dozed off without even knowing.

You woke up to yelling, causing your body to jolt as you were abruptly pulled from your sleepy state.

Seonghwa was scolding some of his crew, telling them they need to move faster, griping that they weren't tying knots fast enough. Once he was done with his rant, he stomped off, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

The three pirates muttered amongst themselves as they tried to figure out what to do. They were trying to tie up the sails, which requires you to tie a bowline knot. This group seemed to not know how to do that.

"Pardon me." You called out to them, keeping your voice low.

One of them turned to you with a confused expression, wondering why you were speaking to them.

"You're not tying that knot correctly." You told him.

"Why should we listen to a prisoner?" One of them asked harshly.

"Yeah. We wouldn't listen to a prisoner, let alone a woman."

"Fine. Get yelled at by your captain. I don't care." You responded, nonchalantly.

"How... how do you tie this knot for the sails?" The one with the rope in his hands asked, softly.

"Your buddies there don't seem to wanna listen to what I have to say, so just forget it."

"No! Please. I'll listen."

You then explained to him what to do, all three of them hanging on to every word—even the ones that snapped at you.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had noticed you conversing with his crew. He also noticed how they listened to you. He was surprised to see that you knew what you were talking about.

"So you can do something besides spit and run your mouth." He remarked, catching your attention.

"My dad worked with ships a lot." You responded, casually. "I know almost everything there is to know about sailing."

Seonghwa hummed to himself, looking at you thoughtfully before walking off.

You closed your eyes, resting your head against the main mast. Visions of your home flashed in your mind. Your warm bed, your kitchen stocked with food, and the feeling of safety that came with your abode.

Heavy footsteps approaching pulled you from your daydream—it was Seonghwa.

"You just might prove to be useful."

You narrowed your eyes at him, tilting your head in curiosity. "Does that mean you'll untie me?"

"Oh, I'll untie you—but, in case you have any ideas about jumping ship,"

You then felt something cold brush against your ankle, followed by a click sound.

"I'll have a leash to tug you back with."

Glancing down, you saw a metal cuff around your ankle, a chain laid out on the deck.

"You're chaining me up like a dog?"

"It's the only way I'll be able to keep an eye on you. If I let you loose on my ship, there's no telling what you'll do."

You pressed your lips together, holding back your irritation. He was right and you hated that.

He pulled out his cutlass, using it to slice the ropes, the thick cords falling at your feet. His eyes lingered on your figure as his tongue ran across his bottom lip.

"I was going to offer you some proper clothes, but I rather like you in this little nightgown."

The gown had long sleeves and went down to your ankles, covering you well, but his comment made you feel vulnerable and exposed.

"You're sick."

He snickered in response, a cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"I suppose the right thing to do is to provide you with proper clothing. Follow me."

He used the chain to tug you forward, which earned him a displeased scowl from you.

He led you to the captain's cabin where he started rummaging through his wardrobe. You glanced around the space, noticing a shelf with a plethora of rolled up maps and a few books. There was a desk near the front windows of the ship. On that desk were papers, maps, books, and mapping tools.

"Here."

You turned to see Seonghwa with some clothes in his hands.

"Hurry and change."

When he didn't move, you looked up at him, expectantly.

"Don't worry. I won't look."

You gave him a skeptical look as he turned away from you. You took a few steps away from him before changing.

"I never got your name." He spoke up, his back still turned.

"You never asked."

He let out a short scoff. "So, are you gonna tell me your name or should I call you whatever I please?"

"My name is Y/n."

"Y/n." He repeated, testing the name out.

You didn't think he deserved to know your name, but with the alternative you were given, you didn't really have a choice. There's no telling what he would have called you had you refused.

The moron supplied you with clothes, but neglected to consider the fact that there was a cuff on your ankle which prevented you from being able to put on pants. He removed the cuff and turned his back only long enough for you to change.

"I'm done." You announced once you finished changing into the clothes Seonghwa had given to you.

The shirt was loose, but comfortable, as were the pants, but he had given you a belt to help with that. The metal cuff was clamped back on your ankle once again, reminding you that there was no escape.

You felt much better now that you were in actual clothes, even though they were a bit baggy and belonged to the person who kidnapped you.

The captain looked you over once you were finished.

"My clothes fit you better than I though." He smirked. "The boots are probably a bit big."

"They're fine." You muttered. "Thanks."

You thanked him under your breath, hoping he didn't catch it.

"What was that, darling?" He inquired.

"I said thanks." You spoke up.

"I still didn't catch that. What?"

"I'm not saying it again."

"It was worth a shot." He sighed, playing with the chain in his hand. "Come on."

He led you out of his cabin and back onto the deck where he took the long chain attached to the cuff on your ankle and wrapped it around the main mast, securing it around the large post. Though you were upset about still being imprisoned, it was a step up from being tied up with rope. At least now you could walk around, well, as far as the chain would allow.

"Now, just because I said you might be useful doesn't mean you're off the hook. You're going to have to earn my trust."

"Yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes. "What is it you're wanting me to do?"

"I want you to swab the deck." He told you.

"Seriously? I just proved that I know sailing knots and you're putting me on cleaning duty?"

"You proved that you know one sailing knot. So yes, you're on cleaning duty." He grabbed a nearby mop, shoving it towards you. "Bucket's right there." He pointed before walking up to the forecastle deck.

You sighed, grabbing the bucket of water, dipping the ratty mop into it. The chain cuffed to your ankle allowed you to walk around the main deck, however, you couldn't get near the railing of the ship. Even if you wanted to, jumping ship would be the stupidest thing you could do. You're out in the middle of the ocean with no compass and no boat. If you jumped ship, you'd be left treading water for goodness knows how long. Your best bet was to stay on the ship. Though, you'd love to get this infuriating cuff off your ankle.

For the time being, you'd play it cool and stay under the radar, mopping the fish gut-stained deck, the acrid stench burning your nose. You dropped the sopping mop onto the wooden boards, swiping back and forth repeatedly until it was clean. You repeated this until you had nearly half the deck mopped.

Seonghwa made sure to keep a vigilant eye on you, making sure you weren't trying anything.

At times, you'd have to move things out of the way to properly mop. As you moved a few small crates, you noticed a bobby pin lying on the deck. Glancing over your shoulder, you checked to make sure Seonghwa wasn't looking before snatching the bobby pin, swiftly sliding it into your hair as you got back to work, acting as if nothing had happened.

Once the deck was thoroughly swabbed, you sat down on a large crate to rest, glancing up at the forecastle deck where Seonghwa stood, steadily steering the large sea vessel.

"Captain!" One of the crew members called out.

"What is it?"

"Come here. I need you to come check this."

Seonghwa stepped away from the wheel to assist the man in need of assistance. You took the opportunity to get a look at the keyhole on the cuff attached to your ankle. When you were younger, your dad had a huge chest of memorabilia from old ships he worked on when he was a teenager. Unfortunately, the box was locked shut and he had lost the key, so he picked the lock to get inside the chest. That's where you learned to pick locks.

Checking again to see if Seonghwa was still preoccupied, you pulled out the bobby pin and began to mess with the keyhole on the cuff, jiggling the the pin around. Unfortunately, you didn't make any progress with it, as Seonghwa had returned to his post at the wheel. Not wanting to raise suspicion, you tucked the bobby pin away, choosing to wait for a better time to free yourself.

"Not bad, Y/n." He commented as he observed the deck from the wheel of the ship.

You scoffed, turning away from him.

The bright sun was soon replaced with the softly glowing moon, the air becoming much cooler as stars began to appear, dotting the sky above.

Seonghwa had put you to work cleaning and doing seemingly pointless tasks almost all day, which you were annoyed with. However, when night approached, he offered to let you sleep in his quarters. You refused at first, not wanting to share a bed with the tyrant, but he clarified telling you that he had a hammock you could sleep in. You agreed after that.

Seonghwa, who still didn't trust you, attached the chain to a wooden post in his room. Despite the discomfort from the metal cuff, you slept well—much better than you had the previous night.

You still wanted to leave, though.

You stayed chained up for days, being put to work cleaning and doing other things completely unrelated to sailing. You hated it. Swabbing the deck, cleaning the cannons, cleaning the kitchen, washing the dishes. Chores, basically. You didn't get to anything the crew got to do. You were just a maid.

Then, one day an opportunity presented itself to you.

As you worked on the main deck under the watchful eyes of Seonghwa, his quartermaster called out for him. Your attention turned towards the forecastle deck. Seonghwa sighed, abandoning his place at the wheel to speak with his quartermaster.

You hastily retrieved the bobby pin you had kept with you since finding it, making sure no one was watching as you attempted to pick the lock on the cuff.

"Come on. Come on." You murmured under your breath, glancing around. Seonghwa was busy, his back turned as he spoke to the quartermaster. The crew was busy doing their own tasks, not paying any mind to what was going on, too engrossed in their duties. Though everyone was preoccupied, you still felt on edge, knowing that at any moment, one of them could spot you trying to free yourself.

"Come on." You muttered, gritting your teeth.

Click.

The cuff unlatched.

You gasped, frantically looking around to make sure no one saw. You stood up, preparing to sneak into the cargo hold.

"Captain." The quartermaster pointed just beyond Seonghwa's shoulder.

He turned around, following the quartermaster's finger, spotting you without the metal cuff on your ankle, sneaking along the deck.

"That little—" He hissed through his teeth, rushing down the stairs to the main deck. "What do you think you're doing?"

You spun around just in time to see the captain coming after you. On a moment's notice, you reached over to the nearest pirate and pulled a sword from his sheath

"Very cute." Seonghwa chuckled amusedly, pulling his own sword out.

You held the sword out, pointing it towards him as the crew mates backed off, watching in shock. He stepped forward, your weapons clashing with a resounding clang. You weren't the best swordsman, but your father taught you a bit about sword fighting in case you came across any pirates while sailing.

You pushed Seonghwa's weapon away with the thin blade of your sword. He grunted, his jaw clenched as he fought back.

"Get away!" You shouted.

"You have no authority here." Seonghwa chuckled, blocking your swing.

You came at him mercilessly, every single time, he blocked you with ease, looking as if he wasn't even trying. Rarely did he come at you with an attack. It seemed he was only defending himself, never taking any shots at you. You raised your sword, ready to strike again when suddenly he stepped forward, the flat side of his sword firmly patting your bottom.

You gasped, placing your hand on your backside in shock. Seonghwa chuckled, smirking proudly. That only made you angrier. Your grip tightened on the hilt of the sword and you lunged forward, only for Seonghwa to dodge, stepping aside with ease.

"You know, I could have injured you many times by now, but I didn't." He spoke.

You noticed he had plenty of opportunities to harm you, but he was just being playful and not really fighting back. Why?

"Don't be a coward!" You snapped, pointing your sword at him. "Fight back."

"You don't want me to do that, sweetheart."

"I do."

Seonghwa quirked a brow.

In turn, you came at him, swinging the sword. He blocked every hit, fighting back and clashing blades with you. The force of his hits had become much more powerful at this point. So powerful, that it was forcing you to take a few steps back. With one, powerful swing, Seonghwa knocked the sword from your hand, the weapon clattering to the deck. You stepped backwards to get away from him, your back hitting the wall between the sets of stairs leading to the forecastle deck.

In a split second, Seonghwa's sword was thrown through the air, landing directly beside your head, sticking out of the wood.

You were frozen with fear, your body stiff as you tried to process the fact that your life quite literally flashed before your eyes.

Seonghwa strode towards you, grabbing onto the sword's hilt, jerking the weapon from the wood, his dark eyes staring into yours with the burning intensity of a thousand suns. You were terrified.

"Now, let's get you chained back up, shall we?"

Your eyes widened and in seconds, you ducked under his arm and went straight for the closest thing—the rigging. Grabbing onto the netting, you began to climb up it, moving further from the deck.

"Don't be like that, Y/n." Seonghwa sighed. "Why don't you come on down?"

You ignored him, climbing higher.

"Come on. Where will you go?"

"Away from you!" You shouted.

"Get down here." He called.

"You honestly think I'll listen to you?" You asked.

Seonghwa's jaw ticked with annoyance, his hand squeezing the hilt of his sword.

"I could always just cut you down." He tilted his head, a glint in his eye that told you he wasn't lying.

"But Captain, the rigging will be damaged." One of the crew mates spoke up. "I don't know if we'll be able to—"

"Shh." Seonghwa cut him off. "I don't care."

"What if she gets hurt?"

"I don't care." Seonghwa repeated, raising his sword.

Crap.

You didn't think about the fact that you could fall onto the deck and get injured. Just as Seonghwa reared back, you spoke up.

"Okay!"

He paused, looking up at you.

"I'll come down." You relented, making your way down the rigging.

As you descended the netting, your foot slipped, a shout leaving your lips as you fell, squeezing your eyes shut and preparing for the harsh impact. You grunted as you landed roughly in someone's arms. You peeled open your eyes to see Seonghwa looking down at you with a proud expression on his face.

"Nice of you to join us." He grinned.

Your face twisted in distaste as you squirmed your way out of his arms.

"You're not a bad sword fighter." He commented. "I could teach you how to be a better one."

You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because you can do better than that."

"I thought you wanted to chain me up again."

"I should. Especially since you've proven to me that you'll turn on me as soon as you get the chance... but I won't."

"Why? What do you want?" You asked.

"Well for starters, you're not that much of a threat to me. You know a little self-defense and you seem to have a few skills that can help you get out of bad situations. In other words, you're good, but you're not that good."

For some reason, that offended you.

"You passed." He finally stated.

"Passed?"

"Yeah. You've done a good job cleaning around the ship, you managed to escape under tough circumstances—though you did it under my supervision, which isn't very good on the loyalty part, but we'll work on that. You know a bit about ships and your sword fighting, while rather sloppy,"

"Hey!" You snapped.

"I think you could improve with an excellent teacher." He finished.

"Oh? Do you know one?" You asked, sarcastically.

He gave you a deadpan expression.

"So what do you want?" You asked.

"I want you on my crew."

"You're joking." You chuckled.

"I'm not."

"What's in it for me?"

"Food, shelter, a place to live."

"I had a place to live and you took me away from it." You snapped.

"That's fair." He hummed, straightening his coat.

"How do I know you won't turn on me?"

"How do I know you won't turn on me?" He directed the question back at you.

Touché.

"Fair point." You responded.

"What do you say, Y/n?" He inquired, reaching his hand out. "Do we have a deal?"

You'd never be able to return home. You were going to be stuck on this ship either way so it didn't really matter. The only thing you could gain from joining the crew is safety and protection, which you'd prefer over being chained up and not knowing when they'd decide to throw you overboard.

"Deal." You finally spoke, shaking Seonghwa's hand.

As soon as you latched on, he pulled you toward him, jerking you forward. You grunted as you landed against his chest. He brought his head down to your ear before speaking.

"If you turn on me at any time, I won't hesitate to shoot you." He whispered, threateningly, the barrel of his pistol pressing against your side.

"You have my word." You responded, keeping your tone relaxed.

Truthfully, he wasn't all that frightening to you, but his threats seemed to hold weight. Whether or not he would follow through, that was a mystery. So for now, you needed to be on your best behavior.

Seonghwa released you, allowing you to step away from him and put some distance between the both of you.

"Alright everyone, back go work. There's nothing to see here." He addressed the crew who had been standing and watching the both of you like they would a play or some other form of entertainment. The crew dispersed immediately, going back to what they were doing.

"Alright, Y/n. Should we begin your lessons?"

"Now?"

"No, tomorrow."

You turned to him with a flat expression.

He paid no mind to it as he began speaking again.

"Follow me."

You trailed behind him as he went to his sleeping quarters and retrieved an extra sword, grabbing one that was displayed on the wall.

"I stole this one from a wealthy king." He grinned, seeming to look back on the memories. "You can borrow it for practice."

You took the hilt which had a rather intricate design etched into and around the handle that caged your knuckles.

"It's nice." You commented quietly, watching the way the light spilling into the room glinted on the silver handle.

"I know. That's why I had to have it. Consider yourself lucky. I don't let just anyone borrow that."

Rolling your eyes in response, you lifted the weapon upright, testing its weight.

"Will that work for you?"

"I think so." You nodded.

"Then let's begin."

You followed the pirate onto the vast and spacious main deck where he took his stance. You did the same, holding your sword at the ready.

"For starters, the way you stand is too loose. You need to lock up your legs. If you stand like you are now, your opponent can easily overpower you and force you backwards. You need to try and stand firm."

Glancing down at your feet, you repositioned yourself, making sure to stand a bit more firmly.

"That isn't right." He sighed, walking over and readjusting your stance, making you straighten your back. His hands rested firmly on your shoulders, pushing them forward a bit.

Feeling him so close to you was giving you mixed feelings, both good and bad.

You had to remind yourself that the man teaching you how to sword fight was the same man who forced you onto this godforsaken ship in the first place.

"Alright. That's how you properly stand. Do you feel the difference?"

You nodded.

"Good. Let's try fighting now." He held up his own sword, quickly making the first move.

You made sure to keep your legs locked, blocking his swing and pushing his blade away with your own, a resounding shing sound cutting through the air. The force of you pushing his weapon away didn't faze him at all, in fact, he hardly budged.

His brow briefly rose in a somewhat mocking manner as he smirked. You could practically hear him say, "That's why your stance has to be solid."

Swinging your weapon towards his, you let out a grunt, your blades clashing. You pulled back, going in again only to be blocked. This pattern kept repeating until you finally saw an opening. Your arms raised, your hands gripping tightly onto the hilt. Just as you were about to swing, you noticed Seonghwa eyeing your middle. That's when you realized your abdomen was exposed. Both of your arms were up in the air and he had a clear shot at your midriff.

In the blink of an eye, you jumped backwards and just as you did so, Seonghwa's blade stabbed the air right where you previously stood.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, your eyes wide in shock.

"You just tried to stab me." You breathed.

"That's what a sword fight is."

"But you could have killed me!"

"Don't be dramatic. I wasn't actually going to stab you. If you hadn't jumped back I was just gonna fake you out."

Your eyes narrowed at him.

"Come on. Let's go again."

"I don't think so."

"Come on, Y/n. I won't try to get any hits in this time. Promise."

"I don't trust pirates." You snapped.

"You trusted me enough to have a practice sword fight with me just now. So, you must have at least an ounce of trust in me."

He got you there.

"Alright, fine."

"So, you admit that you trust me even if it's just a little." He grinned.

"Let's just get this over with."

You spent the next few weeks training with Seonghwa, allowing him to teach you all his tips and tricks for sword fighting. At first, you thought he was just being cocky calling himself a good teacher and all, but he was telling the truth. Besides his arrogance, he was a pretty decent mentor. You actually felt like you had improved a bit in your sword fighting.

Not only that, but between practice sessions, you started picking up different tasks around the ship. Some days, you'd help with the sails, while others you'd polish weapons. You even got to help prepare dinner for the crew one night, which you enjoyed.

You stood on the forecastle deck with Seonghwa watching him steer the large vessel, the warm sea breeze blowing through your hair. That's one thing you were beginning to enjoy about being on this ship. The almost constant breeze was always nice and in some ways refreshing. The ocean surprisingly relaxed you.

"I love this view." Seonghwa spoke up, cutting through the silence. "The horizon stretches for miles and miles. You can't see the end of it. It just goes on forever. And the thing about the ocean being so big is that there's so much to explore and you never know what's out there unless you look for it." He commented, staring out at the endless expanse of water.

Glancing over at him, you saw how his eyes had this gleam of joy, a content expression on his face. It was the first time you'd seen him look so... happy.

"You really like what you do, don't you?"

"I do. I enjoy going to different places and living at sea. I feel like I was meant to be here."

You were surprised to hear that from him. For once, you felt like you had gotten a glimpse of the real Seonghwa. You'd never seen that side of him before and were beginning to think maybe he wasn't as merciless or as arrogant as you first thought he was.

"Seonghwa?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Taking care of me, training me, feeding me, giving me a place to sleep. Why did you even kidnap me in the first place?"

"Honestly, you were giving my crew mate so much trouble. It agitated me. I really was planning to hurt you or throw you to the sharks, but I also saw something in you. You put up quite a fight, I guess I though I could use you on my side. So, instead of doing something I probably shouldn't, I decided that I would just keep you around and see what happened." He answered. "Besides, I don't kill ladies."

"Oh, so now I'm a lady?" You questioned, teasingly.

"You were always a lady."

For some strange reason, that made you feel something and you kind of hated it. You should have been repulsed, disgusted, appalled even—but no. Instead, you felt somewhat flustered. There's no way you could be falling for Seonghwa—could you?

"So, do you just put on this tough exterior so everyone is afraid of you?" You questioned, intending to learn more about him.

"Was it that obvious?" He chuckled.

"Sort of. You did a good job at hiding it at first, I'll give you that."

"Thanks."

"You still rob innocent townspeople of their things, though." You added.

"I have to. That's a pirate's life. Though, I don't always steal from innocent people, just when it's necessary."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Not really, but I act like I do. Robbing people who deserve it is what I enjoy." He smirked at that.

"I suppose I could understand that." You hummed. "So, how did you end up here, living a life of piracy? I don't suppose you were born a pirate."

"It's a long story." He responded, staring ahead, his expression holding an emotion you couldn't describe.

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, I have plenty of time." You chuckled.

Seonghwa pressed his lips together in thought, his fingers tapping the wheel.

"When I was five, my mother suddenly decided she didn't want anything to do with me and dumped me on my father." He started. "Unfortunately, he didn't want anything to do with me either, so he took me to the docks and ditched me there. It wasn't long after that a fisherman came along and found me, taking me in. I was young and scared, wondering why both my parents had just left me, not caring what happened. You'd think that fisherman would be compassionate since he took me in, but he was cruel. He would guilt trip me and make me feel like a liability, always saying things like I was useless and would never amount to anything. He always called me ungrateful and said I'd be dead without him. Truth is, I did everything he asked me to do and then some. I was a decent kid. He had no reason to treat me the way he did. I sometimes wonder why he even took me in if I was such a burden to him."

You frowned, not knowing Seonghwa had such a difficult childhood.

"One day I just had enough. I was sick of him putting me down all the time. The first ship that docked in town, I stole. I didn't care who it belonged to, I just wanted to get out of there. I boarded the ship with a small bag of all my belongings and just sailed away. I was on my own for a few weeks, stealing from different places until I docked in a nearby town. That's where I found the first few members of my crew and it's grown ever since."

You watched as he steered the very vessel he had stolen years ago, his eye still on the horizon ahead.

"Being tossed from one person to another makes you feel pretty unwanted." He glanced down below at the main deck towards his crew. "But I feel pretty wanted here." A small smile pulled at his lips and he looked over at you. "I never had a permanent home until now. This crew is my family."

For some reason when he said that, you felt included in it too.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

"Me too."

"How old were you when you ran away?"

"12."

"Wow." You twiddled your thumbs for a moment, imagining a young 12-year-old Seonghwa being at sea on his own with only a few people to help him out. Without thinking twice you approached him, wrapping your arms around him from behind. The captain stiffened a bit before turning in your hold and facing you.

"What are you doing?"

"You didn't deserve any of that." You told him, your arms tightening around his slim waist.

He hesitantly brought a hand up and placed it on your back, somewhat reciprocating the hug. The only person to ever hug him was his mother and that was only a few times. He wasn't used to such displays of affection.

"It isn't your fault." He told you, trying to ignore the way his heart raced.

Pulling away, you glanced up at him. "You know, despite everything you went through, it seems to me you've made a decent life for yourself."

"I have." He smiled softly to himself.

Your elbows rested on the railing of the ship as you stared out into the ocean, watching the way the waves crested as the wind blew across the water's surface. Once again, you were on the forecastle deck with Seonghwa, which is where you've been spending most of your time recently. Ever since he opened up to you about his childhood, you started seeing him more as a decent man with rough beginning and less like an arrogant captain that you constantly wanted to slap across the face.

After he opened up, he started acting different around you—different in a good way. He seemed more himself, like he wasn't putting on an act or trying to be tough or intimidating. He joked around more and seemed to enjoy your company just as much as you enjoyed his.

"You know, we're headed east." Seonghwa spoke up, leaning over on the railing beside you.

"Oh." You responded with no particular attitude.

"You know, where your town is." He added.

"I know. The east is a bit boring though, don't you think?"

Seonghwa seemed confused by your response. Having expected you to want to go back home, he thought you'd be jumping for joy.

"I hear the west is nice this time of year." You commented, turning to him with a smile.

"That's in the complete opposite direction."

"I know."

"What are you trying to say?"

You gave him a grin. "I'm part of your crew, aren't I?"

"What?" Seonghwa's cheeks turned red. "I-I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

Pushing aside his embarrassment and flustered feelings, he managed to respond.

"Are you saying you want to stay?"

"I am."

"Why? I took you from your home by force. I tied you to the mast and kept you chained up for weeks."

"That was before I learned about you... the real you. You're not the same man who forced me onto this ship."

"Even so, you should return home."

"I don't want to. Besides, there's nothing for me in that town. I prefer staying right where I am." You smiled contently.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm more sure than I've ever been."

Seonghwa tried to hold back the smile that attempted to break out across his features, but his efforts were futile. He was thrilled that you wanted to stay with him.

The feelings he had towards you first became prominent when he started giving you sword flighting lessons and they only grew from there. It was when he opened up to you that his feelings really blossomed, becoming so palpable that he couldn't bear to be away from you.

"Thank you, Y/n."

"Why are you thanking me?" You questioned.

"Because I don't deserve your forgiveness or even your company."

Your gaze softened as you looked at him. "Yes you do. I wouldn't have wanted to stay here if you hadn't proven to me that you're not who I once thought you were."

Seonghwa reached over, tentatively taking your hand in his. You accepted the gesture, lacing your fingers with his.

"So, you want to be a permanent crew member?" He inquired.

"I do."

"I hope you're ready. You may think you know what goes on around here, but you've only seen the half of it. There'll be fights with opposing ships and strong storms that could throw a man overboard. Do you think you can handle it?"

"I'm ready for whatever the sea has to throw at me."

A smirk tugged at his lips.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Hongjoong ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung ⟡ Jongho

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

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[iolaussharpe-24]

Barbie in the Mojave - Chapter Two

Thank you to everyone who supported chapter one! You're all lovely!

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(Let me know if you want to be added or taken off for chapter three. No feelings will be hurt.)

@waywardrose, @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @lunar-ghoulie, @ominoose, @reallyrallyauthor

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Feel free to ask questions about anything as well. I'm happy to talk about my process with anyone that's interested.

Chapter Two: Bad Smells and Worse Ideas

Barbie and Ken stopped and sat down, exhausted. Both of them were tired and panting. Both of them had sore feet (though Barbie’s were considerably worse because of her heels). Both of them were soaked in water despite never being anywhere near water. Both of them were mourning their perfectly styled hair. Ken’s was drenched and stuck to his forehead, dripping in front of his eyes. Barbie’s had gotten frizzy and wild, sitting on her head like one of the dried out brown bushes they walked past. Her headband wasn’t doing much to keep it under control either. Each and every blonde strand had gained sentience and turned against her.

They had walked a long way. The car wasn’t anywhere in sight anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time. The sea of sand had slowly but surely started to become solid rocky ground with dry plants sprouting from split stones and small animals and bugs scurrying into little holes at their feet as they came near.

The sun was setting behind them, making their shadows stretch out several feet in front of them as the air turned cold and the sky began to change colors overhead.

“Barbie, shouldn’t we have found the speedboat by now? This place is like an endless beach without the beach!”

“It’s called a desert.”

“Are you sure this is the right way?”

“I think so.”

“Well what did Weird Barbie say?”

“We’re doing what Weird Barbie said.”

“Wandering aimlessly?”

“For the last time, she didn’t give me directions! I was told to drive a sports car to a speedboat to a rocket ship to a tandem bike to a camper van to a snowmobile to roller blades and then I’d be in the real world where I’d find my kid by equally unspecified means! I don’t know what I’m doing or how I’m supposed to do it, but I want to get it done so that we can go back home and everything can go back to normal.”

He contemplated that for a minute, then smiled brightly. “And then, when we can do boyfriend girlfriend things together. Right?”

She nodded, just to make him stop asking questions. “Sure Ken…. It’s getting late,” she added with a sigh. “We should probably camp out… somewhere. Get some rest so we can keep walking in the morning. I was hoping to be done and home by now, but nothing’s been going right, has it?”

It was annoying. Very, very annoying. All of it. She felt like she was going crazy. She knew that there were going to be differences between Barbieland and the Real World. She did. It was a logical inevitability that only made sense. After all, they are two different worlds. Different realities that were affected by one another, but still very much separated from each other. It sounded absolutely insane, but it did, for some bizarre reason, make a weird amount of sense. Like old sitcoms with a supernatural or otherworldly element that everybody treated like a completely normal thing.

Ugh.

Ken was crouched down with a pile of sticks in front of him, hitting two rocks against each other repeatedly. Trying to start a fire. Fair enough. Just like how the sun had seemed hotter than they were used to in Barbieland, the night air, in turn, was colder. Even in the winter, when everyone tended to bundle up in thick coats and fuzzy boots, the cold never really affected them. This did. It was making Barbie’s skin break out into a thousand tiny bumps that gave her a weird tingling sensation as they appeared.

Must be another human thing. Another problem to fix. Like the cellulite on her legs. She shivered at that thought. Would this spread too? At least the cellulite was easy to hide. It was just on her thighs and was easily covered up as long as she wore longer shorts and skirts.

Their clothes sat in a heap near the place they’d decided to call their campsite, despite not having a dream camper or a tent or a backpack or even a sleeping bag – which was the absolute barest minimum of camping gear they could have possibly had on hand. They’d been forced to carry everything while they walked who knows how far for who knows how long and when they finally decided to stop, they’d just dumped everything unceremoniously in the dirt and used their skates, pads, helmets, and Barbie’s hairbrush to hold down their clothes.

She reached up and felt her frizzy tangles. Felt like a bird’s nest. Probably looked like Weird Barbie’s hack job of a haircut. So, just to feel like she had some control over something, she picked up her brush and started trying to tame the beast on her head.

“I think I saw a spark!”

Ken did not see a spark.

Barbie didn’t have it in her to tell him though. Instead, she praised and encouraged him to keep trying. Saying, “You’ll get a fire in no time,” and genuinely hoping that he would. Maybe that was what was so wrong with everything. Fear and negativity. Maybe, if she just tried to keep a positive attitude, and kept smiling, and tried to go on like her world wasn’t turning upside down, she’d manifest that reality and everything would go back to normal on its own. Or, at the very least, they might get lucky.

It took hours before either one of the two dolls could start a fire. And, by the time they did, it had already gotten cold. To keep warm, the two of them mixed and matched the clothes they brought to cover up as well as they could since they tiny flame they made wasn’t providing them with any kind of warmth whatsoever.

Barbie was in a pair of hot pink ankle boots that didn’t match her pants, and a baby blue long-sleeve shirt that didn’t match anything. Ken had closed his jacket, put on a pair of low waisted jeans, and swapped his sandals for his neon yellow roller skates, though he removed the neon pink wheels from the bottom to make it easier on him to walk in the morning.

After a few moments of sitting side by side to keep warm, Ken lifted his head and sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?” he asked, his brows furrowed.

“Smell what?”

“I don’t know. Something smells… bad.”

Automatically, Barbie turned her head away from her friend, breathed into her hand, and sniffed. Not great. Not terrible. But not great. Think that this wasn’t what Ken was smelling, she lowered her hand and sniffed as well. That’s when she noticed it. A sour smell in the air.

She scrunched up her nose at it at first.. and then realized that it seems awfully close.

For no real reason at all, Barbie lifted her arm and smelled the underside.

Oh. My. God.

She retched and lowered her arm so fast she was impressed that it didn’t snap clean off at the joint. Ken looked at her, confused, and she forced herself to smile and pretend that it was nothing. Even as she dug her nails into her biceps just to make sure that he arms stayed down in an attempt to keep the smell from coming out.

She didn’t understand what was happening to her. Why was her body doing all these things it wasn’t supposed to? First, she was leaking water, her hair was messed up, then she started getting bumpy, and now she smelled?! And that wasn’t taking the fact that she got lost or the wrecked car into account, or any of things that happened before she left Barbieland. This was all in the past few hours.

What could possibly be going on in this little girl’s life to change her like this? It didn’t make sense. How could anything be so wrong with a human that it punched its way through to another world just to drastically alter a Barbie in so many awful ways? It was like time and space and fate had it out for her or something! Worse than Raquelle at her most infuriating. Worse than-

Her thoughts were cut short by a sound in the distance. It was loud and shrill and, like so many other disembodied noises in the dark, was both familiar and strange. It sounded like a dog’s howl in the middle of the night, but it was twisted. It was wrong. And it wasn’t alone.

More howls accompanied the first like a choir singing a chaotic chorus together. One by one they sounded off, the noise echoing in the distance. Barbie looked out into the darkness ahead, unable to see anything at all. Ken did the same, though for a very different reason. He started walking away from her.

“What are you doing?!”

“Dogs! I want to pet the dogs!”

She stared at him, incredulous. “Ken! We don’t know anything about this place! And that doesn’t sound like Skipper walking a group of dogs to me. There’s no one around. We’re out in the middle of nowhere! This is a bad idea.”

“Hey, when it comes to petting dogs, there are no bad ideas.”

“If we were still in Barbieland where we know all the dogs!”

He wasn’t listening. He was just marching off blindly into the dark, his silhouette growing darker and darker. Blending into nothing.

“Don’t go too far! I don’t want you to get lost!” she called out desperately.

Ken didn’t answer. He might have been too far already.

Despite how annoying he could be, Ken was still her friend. She cared about him. Didn’t want him to get hurt. As of right now, he was the only piece of home she had with her. Well, him and a small pile of stuff she had been forced to carry since the car crashed, but she couldn’t talk to a cute skirt the way she could Ken.

She hoped that he had enough common sense to stay close.

Despite poor Barbie’s warning, Ken couldn’t see any harm in wanting to pet a dog. Or a cat for that matter. Or a horse. He loved horses. More, he suspected, than Western Stampin’ Ken did. Animals in Barbieland were always friendly and cute easy to handle. Always. And the Real World counldn’t be that different from Barbieland. It just couldn’t. Their world was made to resemble the Real World. To fix all of the problems the humans faced. That’s what the Barbies and Kens were made for in the first place. An unfriendly animal, especially a dog, felt nothing short of unnatural to him.

She was just being paranoid. Had to be. He’d never known her to be paranoid before, but he’d never known her to have any malfunctions either. This must be one of them. Yeah, that made sense to him. In fact, it made so much sense that it might have just been the reason why Barbie wanted to do this alone. She didn’t want anyone to see how bad this problem could get! He could understand that. If there was a chance that she could end up like Weird Barbie living away from everyone else in the Weirdhouse with all of the recalled Barbies and Kens, it only made sense that she wouldn’t want anyone to see that. In her position, Ken wouldn’t want that either.

Another howl sounds as he walks. That’s a good sign, right? Means he’s getting close. Like how being far away from something made it look smaller. But in reverse.

Excited, Ken walked faster. He thought about all the dogs he’d met in Barbieland and how cute they were. With their big eyes and black noses and little smiles. He even loved the old Taffy dog with her three puppies. Two of them had bobble heads, and the third one needed to be potty trained. That’s why the Barbie that owned them all always had a few newspapers in her dreamhouse. She always let him pet and play with them when he saw her.

Just as he was starting to smile from the memory, he stopped in his tracks. There was a dog in front of him. A little puppy.

It had tan fur and a cream colored underbelly. Big black eyes that stared straight at him. It wasn’t smiling though, that was weird. But the same black nose he always loved nuzzling his own against. It stood perfectly still, watching him as he watched it.

“Hi there,” he said softly, sinking down to his knees. He slowly held out his hand and cooed, “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. My name’s Ken.”

The puppy stared at him, then stepped forward, sniffing his hand. It yipped at him and two more puppies came out from around the corner to join the first.

In that moment, he just knew that Barbie was going to be jealous. He’d tell her that he found puppies and that he got to play with them, and she was going to look at him and say, “I wish I’d gone with you.” He just knew it. What else would she say? He was right. There’s absolutely no way that petting a dog can be a-

Grrrrrrrr…

That wasn’t a good sound.

Looking up at the rocky side of the plateau, Ken saw two more dogs. Fully grown ones. Their teeth were showing as they growled at him. The blond stood up straight, still smiling. “Hi! These little cuties must be yours.”

One of the dogs jumped down, still growling at him, it’s ears low, teeth bared. Then the other dog jumped down to join the first. And a third came from behind him.

His smile fell at bit as he watched. They reminded him of something… unpleasant. Something he’d seen in some of the older movies while at the theater with Barbie. Maybe she was right… maybe this actually was a bad idea. He hadn’t thought that was even possible until now.

Oh no.

Ken took a few steps backwards as one of the dogs started to snap at him, still snarling while it did. He raised his hands, showing the dog his empty palms. “Woah, woah, easy. Easy. I’m not going to hurt you. Or the puppies.”

A loud BANG! sounded from the darkness, echoing through the valley that Ken had been walking in. Almost immediately after, one of the dogs let out a pained whine unlike anything Ken had ever heard in his life. The others turned and ran away while the one that cried fell to the ground, a thick red liquid soaking its fur on one side. He’d never seen anything like it before and… wow… he was thinking that a lot lately, wasn’t he? The Real World was so different from Barbieland. Even the things that were familiar were different.

He looked down at the dog lying at his feet. It wasn’t moving. Wasn’t making any noise. It was more like the dogs back home that way. But in a bad way. A way that made him… not happy. Very not happy. It was like how he felt when Barbie turned down his attempts at doing boyfriend/girlfriend things to have a party with the other Barbies but it wasn’t that. This was different. Like everything else in this world.

He knelt down beside the dog and put his hand on it’s snout. It didn’t react. The fur was coarse and warm. But… it was getting cold. Fast.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even know what was happening. All he knew was that he didn’t like the way it made him feel.

Dirt crunched under heavy boots behind the blond while he knelt over the animal. He looked up to see a man wearing a long coat and a hat standing there. The first person he’d seen aside from Barbie since they left home.

“You lost, brother?”

[pumpkinbxtch]

MY LAST REQUEST 😭 I feel so bad requesting right away AGAIN but I loved your response so much I want more. I CRAVE more of it PRETTY PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP MAKE A PT2 DO ANYTHING WITH THE PART 2 SLIGHTLY ANGSTY AND FLUFFY PLSPLS 😭🙏🙏❤️❤️❤️ TYSM AGAIN LIKE YOURE LITERALLY THE BEST ur single handily fueling my obsession rn this will be my last one for a while TRUST unless you say otherwise, I don’t wanna overwhelm you ❤️💔

• ° . ☆ “Free coupons, take one and cry all afternoon ” II

— apollo x mortal!reader

part i

summary: part ii, you need to read it, the link is above. run, go warnings: none a/n: really forgive me, haha. I wanted to do something very nice but, well, you'll read what I did. I don't know, forgive me 😔 I couldn't control myself HAHA Still I hope you enjoy it.

Lester was about to throw up the burger, or well, the two bites he had taken. No misunderstanding, it was good.

But you continued to check that they were well taken care of; Giving him pretty smiles and walking near him with that lavender smell of yours. Shit, he wanted to be close to you.

They were too many of you, so they had to join several tables and, among the place that was about to explode, they stood out.

A very lively table, Apollo assumed.

Percy played with his soda making swirls telepathically, Leo put his hand in and undid it, it was funny until the son of Poseidon realized that the drink was disgustingly tampered with. He didn't take a sip again. The other boys laughed.

The girls were talking and laughing and pushing each other, including Meg.

Nico picked at Percy's fries and sipped on Will's soda. Living his best life, Apollo thought.

He liked the idea of being with them and being able to take care of them (even though they beat them to the times they had saved his ass) he could now return the favor.

Oh, if only you could see it. You would be happy. You told him in almost all your lives that he was guilty of being self-centered.

Apollo found himself struggling with the thoughts of him, you weren't dead. You were in front of him.

You passed the door to the counter, holding a tray in each hand. That image flashed in his mind, transporting him back to when you used to walk around with two vases on your shoulders, dancing among the people. Some chains hanging from your neck and the jewelry clashed. You have always been beautiful. Whatever way you came back to him; Boy, girl, you were always beautiful.

— LESTER! —He jumped out of the seat and collided with Jason's shoulder.

— All good?

No, he wanted to be with you.

— The girl over there is talking to you, — Will said with a worried look for his father.

He looked up and spotted you behind the cash register. He made his way towards you without hesitation.

—Mr. Lester, I see that you didn't wait two seconds to use those coupons.— You said with a smile on your lips. Some strands of hair were sticking out from under the cap you were wearing.

—We were hungry.

Idiot, couldn't he think of a better line?

You let out a laugh, and he leaned slightly on the bar, his stomach wouldn't leave him alone.

You leaned over the bar, closing the distance between you. The boy smelled like sunshine and some kind of sweet scent, totally pleasing to your sense of smell. Strangely, you wanted to be even closer to him, like a little impulse to be with him alone, to hug him. Were you attracted to him? But it seemed like a joke, they had only met by chance. You cleared your throat.

— Everything's alright there? — You pointed with your eyes to the table where the rest of his friends and sister were. Although this one had nothing in common with him.

You looked at him. The blonde curls mixed with the black ones making a particular blend, you wondered if it was something genetic and his blue eyes, you had seen them. You were sure.

He touched your shoulder excessively softly, as if he was afraid of breaking you.

— Excuse me?

You let out a laugh and straightened up. Again he was a little further away and you didn't like the feeling.

—I didn't hear you, sorry. Did you say?

Lester smiled.

— It's all good. If we make too much noise, we can leave.

You denied without thinking, almost as an act of desperation. You and he chatted a little more, and you told him to sit down so he could finish his meal.

Walked into the kitchen and cursed under your breath. It was inevitable, he would have to leave at some point. What if you asked for his number? The thought made you bite your lip, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

You felt stupid. Would you look like that in front of him?

You gave him the coupons you had collected to go out with your friends for half a month, just for the sake of it? You never talked to strangers on the street, but Lester didn't seem like a stranger to you.

Apollo returned to the table and ate a chip without much enthusiasm.

Rachel glanced at Piper.

— Any problem? — Frank said drinking soda from the straw.

The god shook his head and sighed. He felt useless, helpless because he wanted to be with you, but he couldn't find a way. Maybe he could ask you for your number. Yeah! Or not?

— I think it's better that you eat. —Rachel said. As if she could guess his thoughts. Or maybe yes? He looked up and took the burger in her hands, after examining it, he handed it to the son of Hades. Nico ate it almost in an instant. And he got up again to go with you.

— Excuse me!

— Tell me — A waiter served him. Apollo felt stupid, so he ended up ordering ice cream.

He returned with the cone in his hand and a pout on his mouth.

Piper hid her giggle behind the paper menu.

The thoughts of asking for his number also didn't leave you alone, but every time you tried to approach him, something simply interrupted you.

You quickened your pace towards him. You cursed the fact that Lester's back was turned, and an arm stopped your path.

— Miss…

Again. You ended up in the kitchen, mumbling and grimacing.

Apollo also couldn't find you at any time that you could speak. He slammed his hand on the table and bumped his forehead against the plastic surface. It seemed like a joke!

Rachel shook her head slightly and stroked her head.

—Hey, Apollo.

He denied rubbing his face on the table.

Everyone wanted to ask, but the redhead put a finger on her lips.

— Apollo

— It's not Apollo, it's Lester

She understood, things weren't going well, but it was inevitable. Rachel got down to Apollo's level.

— Try it one more time, if you hate this, try it as many times as necessary. But know that you tried everything.

The god's blue eyes peered through his hair, and stood up with a sigh.

Everyone at the table pretended not to have heard, they played dumb talking about the weather.

And he tried again.

and he failed again.

You didn't feel any different, you felt like everything had been so easy until you got it into your head that you needed to be with him. You looked through the delivery window and noticed that his table was almost empty, you had worked in food chains for so long to know that they were about to leave the place. Your soul felt a despair that at the same time seemed meaningless to you.

You looked for a pen and paper, a sheet they use for receipt notes.

You wrote your number and a note: call me!, and you doodled a heart. Inexplicably, you also drew a sun. If you couldn't get close, someone else could.

—Brenda!

Your coworker stopped her pace and raised her chin. She just had a tray in her hand, perfect. You walked over to her quickly.

— Deliver this to table seven.

She nodded.

Apollo was already feeling hopeless, he drank Piper's drink and talked to her friends. During the conversation, your coworker handed the note on a small tray. Rachel looked at the paper and waited for Apollo to take it.

He did, and while he was laughing about something Frank had told him, he crumpled it up and threw the ball of paper into the metal trash can.

The redhead didn't say anything, she knew what was happening. She knew that even if she went to the boat and gave the paper to her friend, it would be something else.

The food was finished, and the rest had been pleasant.

Then everyone rose from their chairs.

Apollo looked again at the same window through which you had been spying on him, until at that same moment it was your turn to throw out the trash.

And that's how things ended.

Apollo walked away from the place, and you didn't see him leave. Both felt their spirits on the ground, their stomachs full of anxiety. It was strange, it was fleeting. But when things didn't have to happen, it was that simple. They just wouldn't happen.

At least, not in this life of yours.

Every chance with Apollo would wither, corrode, perish. It didn't matter how much they tried or struggled.

It was not going to work. At that moment, you were destined to meet but not to stay together, not even for a full day.

And how cruel because there was so much he wanted to show you.

But not now, but until 100 years later.

[lovesick-wonderland]

Risky || c.yj

Summary: In which Yeonjun fucks your mouth in the dance practice room

Warnings: 18+, smut, degration, blowjobs, slight corruption kink, slight possesive yeonjun, dom yeonjun, mentions of public sex, sub y/n, slight coercion, y/n is called a slut, whore, etc, gender neutral y/n

Minors please DNI

Anxiety coursed through you as the head of Yeonjun's cock slowly slid past your saliva slicked lips as you kneeled in front of him in the mirror-filled dance practice room. Yeonjun's sweats were pulled down just enough to take his cock out, beanie discarded on the floor.

It was cute to see you like this, fully clothed, hands bound behind your back while kneeling in front of him, staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

You were completely at his mercy. All of his to corrupt.

Yeonjun let out a groan, grabbing your hair with one hand and forcing you to take him further until he hit the back of your throat. You gag, eyes watering as you try to relax your throat and breathe through your nose.

Lately, Yeonjun and you would fuck in risky places. Last week on Sunday, you gave him a blowjob in public bathroom at the club after dancing, then Wednesday, you rode him at a park after taking a walk, and then Saturday he fingered you at a resturant while you were talking to the waiter. All those times not including when he would fuck you in privacy. He was instatiable and needy, always wanting more. You always complied, weak to his incessent begging and touch. So, despite your hesitancy to give him a blowjob in the dance practice room in fear of being walked in by one of the members, you eventually gave in with a sigh. After all, who were you to refuse your doting boyfriend?

"You can take me, right? You're so good for me, always such an obedient slut." Yeonjun said breathily, eyes shutting at the feeling of your warm mouth enveloping him.

You let a hum is response, trying to nod the best you could, causing Yeonjun to shudder.

"Oh God. I wonder what the other members would think if they saw you like this? You on your knees, taking me in your mouth in the practice room. Fuck, I bet they'd think all your innocence is an act hm? You're nothing but a whore that can't go a day without cock."

Yeonjun began shallowing fucking your throat, panting as he slowly builds up speed until he pounds your throat mercilessly, uncaring of your whines and fluttering throat. He roughly uses your mouth as a fleshlight, tugging you back and forth on his length while thrusting. His head buzzing with pleasure with thoughts of how good your mouth feels.

You try to please him the best you can, fighting your gag reflex, flattening your tongue, hollowing your cheeks and trying to swallow around him the best you could. Despite your best efforts, hot tears welled up in your eyes from your reflex, dripping down your cheeks. You look down, blinking, trying to control the tears as saliva drips down your chin.

"Aw, is my dumb baby crying? My little fucktoy. You know how I love it when you cry. You always become such a mess for me." Yeonjun said with faux sympathy, mockingly wiping away your tears. You hadn't even realized he had opened his eyes, too preoccupied with trying not to cry.

Yeonjun stops wiping away your tears and taps your cheek before running his hand through his hair.

"Look at me when I'm fucking your mouth."

Your eyes immediately shoot up, blearily trying to focus on him. He was so pretty like this, face flushed, chest heaving, mouth open with his hair mussed up, strands sticking to his sweaty face while looking down at you.

You felt him twitch in your throat as he made eye contact with you. He was close.

Yeonjun quickly tugged you off of his length and released your hair from his grip, quickly stroking himself to completion. He let out a moan as he saw you open you mouth, tongue lolling out as he stains your mouth and lips with streaks of his cum.

"Swallow."

You obediently close your mouth and swallow, his salty flavor spreading over your tongue.

Yeonjun tucks himself back into his sweats before collecting some of the cum on your lips onto his fingers and pushing them into your mouth. You immediately swirl your tongue over his digits, licking them off cleanly.

Yeonjun lets out a satisfied smile, removing his fingers. petting your hair and giving your swollen lips a kiss before going to untie your hands while whispering soft praises to you.

The door opens and you both freeze as Beomgyu walks in with snacks, not fully registering that the practice room was occupied.

It doesn't take long for his face to split into a devious smirk as he spots Yeonjun and you on the floor together. One look at you two giving him the full story. The messy hair with a fucked out expression on both your faces, Yeonjun's sweaty and flushed face, your hands bound behind your back and your lips swollen with remanents of Yeonjuns cum on it screamed that you gave Yeonjun a blowjob in the dance practice room.

Beomgyu drops the snacks and slowly approaches you two, glancing you up and down before eyes resting on your lips. Yeonjun rushes to shield you, glaring at Beomgyu with a clear 'fuck off' expression, tucking you face into his chest.

"Seems like you two had fun huh? Yeonjun, I didn't know you were doing these things with them. Next time you two do this, don't hesitate to invite me to join."

[strawhatsoraya]

GOJO X FEM READER X GETO | SFW WC: 3.4k CW: suggestive language, mentions of bullying, gojo continues to be a little shit, second hand embarrassment, geto suguru just existing, rom com vibes SUMMARY: Gojo Satoru can't seem to stop annoying Y/N, and Y/N unwillingly shares a lollipop with him. Geto Suguru appears like a knight in shining armor, but he has his own feelings to sort through.

CHAPTER ONE

Chapter Two

Every time he’d see you in the halls, there was a lollipop in your mouth.

Your eyes, dull and hard to read, stare at nothing as you lean against the wall. You absentmindedly turn the stick between the tips of your fingers, swirling the sticky sweet against the inside of your cheeks.

He doesn't know why or how it started.

Maybe it began as a whim, or maybe it was an innocent token given by someone Gojo Satoru hadn’t noticed before. Someone he had long forgotten. Although he severely doubted that. He prided himself on his observational skills and on his keen ability to file away personal little tidbits he could manipulate to his favor later.

If someone had given you a lollipop, even as a mere act of kindness to breach past the invisible walls around you, Gojo would have noticed; and he would have definitely remembered. After all, whether he liked it or not, he had developed the uncanny ability to find you in any room without much effort.

You had joined a few weeks into the spring term, a surprise transfer student no one was expecting.

Your introduction to the school had sent everyone into an unnecessary tizzy, as rumors about the reason you had transferred broke out in every corner. Some mentioned bullying as to why you suddenly left your previous school; that it had been so bad you had contemplated doing something reckless. Others mentioned violence, and theft.

The more days passed, the more embellished the stories became.

“You know what I heard?” Shoko spoke out of the corner of her mouth, her voice low and drawn out. It was a habit that drove Suguru crazy. Satoru looks sidelong at him with an amused grin. “I heard she got caught in the teacher’s lounge doing,” she pauses to use her hand and turn it into a fist. Shoko tucks her tongue against her cheek until it bulges, and brings her first to her mouth rhythmically. “You know.”

Suguru sucks his teeth impassively. Gojo finds his reaction infinitely more humorous than Shoko’s far-fetched rumor. He smiles as he leans against the corridor wall, the sun reflecting off his dark sunglasses.

“That’s enough,” Suguru speaks sternly, frowning down at his short haired classmate. He turns to Satoru. “And you too, stop entertaining her!”

“I’m just saying that’s what I heard!” Shoko defends herself as she brings her hands up in defeat. “I didn’t say I believed it.”

“And you’re making it worse by repeating it,” Suguru admonishes. He shakes his head in disbelief, hands deep inside his pockets. There’s a strand of ebony hair that falls away from his bun, gently grazing one eyebrow. Satoru watches it from behind his lenses, suddenly entranced by its movement.

“Relax, Class President.”

Satoru’s voice is jovial once he manages to swallow the thick lump in his throat. His heart races when Suguru directs his frown at him next. His dark eyes, usually kind and understanding, were turning turbulent and unreadable.

“The rumors will die out soon enough. She’s not even in our class. What are you so upset about?”

“You just don’t get it,” he mumbles quietly, sharply turning his face away. Shoko elbows Gojo, and whispers in his ear before snickering–something or the other about a stick being far up where the sun doesn’t shine. Satoru smiles reflexively, he even laughs and leans in but the lump is back in his throat as he notices the flush on Suguru’s cheeks.

His eyes, always kind, and understanding have gone past unreadable. They were searching down the hall for someone that wasn’t standing right in front of him.

It is then you appear around the corner. Your glossy curls framing your face, falling around your shoulders. The sun filtering through the glass is soft when it lands on your hair, and trails down your face. Tucked to a corner of your mouth, is a lollipop that you let dangle there as you cradle books to your chest. Your gaze is distant even as you approach them. You don’t even look at them as you pass them by, and in the moment Satoru sees the beauty mark on your jaw, a memory comes in like a tidal wave, sweeping away every other thought in the current of it.

“Oh,” he exclaims softly, lost within his memories.

He remembers suddenly, the sound of rain, the smell of wet dirt. He remembers your soaked hair clinging to your cheeks, the sound of you crying. It comes in fragments, as you distort the sunlight when you pass by, leaving him in tentative darkness. He shivers remembering that day but sunlight touches his milky skin again when you’re gone.

“You alright?” he hears Suguru ask. Satoru looks away from your retreating form.

“I’m fine,” he assures Suguru. “That’s her?” When Suguru nods, Satoru turns to Ieri. “Shoko-chan. Don’t ever bring up that rumor again.”

“What?” she repeats in disbelief, amazed at Gojo’s sudden change in behavior. “Since when do you care?”

“Since now.”

You always acted like it didn’t bother you. In fact, Gojo wasn’t even sure you were aware of the rumors. Every time he saw you, in the halls, in the cafeteria, as you crossed the courtyard leading to the gated entrance of the school, you always had that distant detached stare.

And there was the lollipop, tucked safely inside a cheek.

Something about your blasé existence bothered him. It gnawed at his conscious, slowly chewing around the edges. The rippled shadow of his resolve provoked him to act impetuously. There’s a tinny voice echoing in his ears, begging him not to do it but he still does. He still reaches for you, gripping the end of your lollipop stick between index and thumb finger.

Satoru pulls it out of your mouth with a ‘pop’, leaving you stupefied as drool oozes from your bottom lip to your chin. You wipe at it slowly with the back of one hand, only to watch him push the used lollipop into his own mouth.

“That’s disgusting,” you tell him flatly, top lip curled, brows raised to better convey the message. You’re trying to bury it between his eyebrows. Maybe if it digs into his brain deep enough, he’d leave you alone for good.

“Only if you think you’re disgusting.” His quip is quick, sharp, lethal. He doesn’t hold back, as if he has no concerns for your ego. Satoru observes you as he hangs his tongue out of his mouth, twisting the lollipop over the surface of it. You watch, your eyebrows slowly drawing together, as the fleshy pink of his tongue becomes blue at the center of it. His stance is languid, the weight of his statuesque figure laying mostly on one foot. Gojo looks down at you sidelong, ivory lashes fluttering seductively.

“What’s up with you, Knee Pads?” he asks you, not bearing the silence between you. “It’s like you’ve been avoiding me or something.”

“What’s up with you?” you retort, unhappy with your bout of stupidity. You blush as you try to steal back the lollipop. Gojo holds steadfast, his neck craning as you tug with more strength. “Also, my name,” you clench your teeth as you pull one more time, freeing your lollipop from Gojo Satoru’s impressively strong lips. Just what kind of suction power a tall freak like him possessed? “Is not Knee Pads.”

He knew that.

Instead of confessing, he resorts to digging into his trouser pockets, curling long fingers around lint like well kept secrets.

“Hmm,” Gojo hums contemplatively as he watches you put the lollipop back into your mouth. The corners of his mouth twitch as he does his best to fight off a wicked grin. His best, in this case, was not even close to good enough. Even as his lips split into a mischievous smile, he sees your eyes narrow in suspicion.

For your amusive efforts, Gojo allows his own eyelids to become playfully heavy. A tapered finger reaches out to tap the end of your lollipop stick. You flinch.

“We just kissed. Did you know that?”

You blink, shake your head. You blink again, thinking it would clear the fog from your mind.

“I see,” you speak around the lollipop that’s tucked safely back into one of your cheeks. You bob your head, nod as if you had been imparted with some worldly wisdom. “You’re crazy crazy.” You wind a finger around the side of your head, and hold out your palm briefly. “Full. Alternative facts crazy.”

Gojo closes his eyes dramatically, lifting a finger to wag it in the air. You watch with the last vestiges of your patience, as his soft looking hair falls to the side when he tilts his head slightly.

How incredibly annoying of him to be so undeniably beautiful. Surely, that was illegal somewhere in the world.

“No no,” Gojo coos softly, his white eyebrows drawing together. “Indirect kisses are real. We just had one.”

He tries to bop your lollipop stick again but you dodge him by reeling back slightly.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mister Gojo!” you mumble, your own brows drawing together. You can feel them settling there, as if that was henceforth their permanent location when Gojo Satoru was around. “Indirect kiss or not, this isn’t a free for all. You may not have boundaries, but I do.”

Guilt washes over his expression, turning his glimmering smile empty.

Whether it’s feigned, or genuine, you don’t want to bother thinking about it. His shoulders slouch as he deflates, pallid hands hiding inside his trouser pockets once more. The way he looks up at you through his lashes, behind those stupid circular glasses, reminds you of a dejected puppy.

You liked dogs, but you weren’t in the habit of picking up strays.

“Sheesh,” he exclaims after a tense moment of silence. “You’re pretty brutal with that mouth of yours. Guess it does more than just suck on a lollipop, huh?”

“Ha ha,” you laugh sarcastically, a single brow cocked high over your forehead.

You don’t seem receptive to his jokes, and he should really learn to observe and heed the lines drawn on the sand but Gojo Satoru was never one to follow the rules. He simply didn’t think they adhered to him.

“I mean,” he drawls, shifting the weight of his body to the other leg. “It makes sense why you don’t have any friends.”

There he went again, throwing words like daggers; like he didn’t care where they landed, like he didn’t care if you bled in front of him.

You open your mouth, thoughts slowing down partially because you were not expecting his brutal observation and partially because you were stunned into silence by his sheer audacity.

“That’s-that’s really none of your business,” you try to speak calmly, even as you stumble over your words. You pray your practiced stony expression saves you this time. “Also you’re one to talk. I’m surprised you even have friends.”

You, in fact, were not. He didn’t need to be told that.

Gojo Satoru loved his theatrics.

You had reached this conclusion after seeing him exert his dramatic skills at school plenty of times. Often in the company of Geto Suguru, Class President and the current star of your dreams; much to your chagrin.

You take a front row seat to Gojo’s performance as he places a hand to his chest, a trembling injured sound shooting out his throat.

“My friends love me,” he declares hotly. “I have a best friend. In fact,” he turns, swinging an arm out to point behind you. “He’s right there. SUGURU!”

You flinch at the sudden volume of his voice, shutting your eyes as one of your hands raises to pull the lollipop out from your mouth.

“SUGURU, COME HERE!”

Panic seizes in your chest, before it untangles into heated tendrils. They shoot out to your limbs, confusing your neurons. The signals are messed up, you’re sure of it, as you falter in your spot, turning and spinning to and fro. Your mind screams: run, but your legs find that extremely inconvenient. So you settle for popping the lollipop back in your mouth, and placing your hands on your hips; the epitome of teenage nonchalance.

You even lean back on a leg, as if you didn’t care about your crooked posture; scoliosis be damned.

It isn’t long before his footsteps reach you. There’s an electric chill on your fingertips, forcing you to drum them against your hips. It was all you could do to keep from screaming as Geto Suguru’s shadow fell over you.

“Oh, Suguru!” Gojo exclaims excitedly. You can’t help but notice the way his face lights up, as if the whole sun was shining down on him and only for him. An infectious smile stretches his pouty lips. “You’re here.”

Geto nods slowly, an impassive expression temporarily rippling across his features. It is quickly replaced with a more patient ambiguity.

“Mmhmm,” he admits, still nodding slowly, hands deep in the pockets of his baggy trousers. His glossy locks are tied up in his characteristic bun, bangs gently swaying against his temple with every motion. “You did flag me down.” He pauses as if to give Gojo the time to answer but the fair-haired man only stares back with a broad smile. Geto shrugs his shoulder in question. “So, what’s up?”

“Oh!” Gojo claps his hands, finding himself back on his initial train of thought. He leans over to drop an elbow on your shoulder. You try to train your expression even as you buckle slightly under the weight of your taller classmate. “Knee Pads here,” he says next, flicking a finger down at you as he continues to use you as a crutch. Your hands, still on your hips, grip tighter. “Was trying to say I didn’t have any friends. So…”

He trails off, nodding at Suguru expectingly.

You dare to finally look at Geto head on, as you feel his gaze land on your flushed face. Shiny dark marble eyes that take your breath away inspect your facade for cracks. You feel yourself small under his brief scrutiny. Fortunately for you, he flicks his gaze over at Gojo, still inconveniently close to your body.

You watch as Geto Suguru open his mouth, only to close it. You do your best to fight off a smile. It is extremely difficult when Gojo tenses slightly next to you, so you chew on the inside of a cheek for distraction. It’s like you can hear the gears inside the brunette’s head spinning, creaking, in search of some kind of answer.

“I mean…” he starts, but his voice dies out quickly. He frowns at Gojo, an overplayed sympathetic look takes over his elegant features. “First of all, her name is not Knee Pads…”

“Don’t!” Gojo interrupts, one hand going out in the air. “Change the subject.”

“Yes,” he admits with an eye roll. “We are friends. Okay?”

It was all Gojo needed, apparently. His mood shifts quickly, and he gives your shoulder up to replace you with Geto. His hands go out to his shoulders as he settles behind the dark haired young man, squeezing them repeatedly.

“See, Knee Pads? What did I say?”

Geto tries to shake him off, but gives up when he sees his attempts are futile. You laugh tensely, feeling sweat seeping into your school shirt from your armpits. It’s like your body is screaming for you to finally high tail it out of that situation but something keeps you tethered to the ground you’re standing on.

Maybe it’s the sparkle in Gojo Satoru’s shit-eating grin that pushes every button inside you, like a kid with sticky fingers. Maybe it’s the way Geto Suguru tilts his head, a quizzical expression on his face as if he is trying to read your every thought.

Maybe it’s an unknown third thing—a lonely dark thing, that still craves what it cannot have.

Friendship. Bonds.

Those were things you didn’t dare touch anymore. You’d never cross that threshold again, much less if it involved the Class President and the devoted Sunflower boy on his side.

You shift the lollipop to your other cheek with your tongue, raise a hand and vertically slice through the air with your palm.

“Good for you, Gojo Satoru,” you declare without humor. “Wonderful, even.” If there was any part of you that was envious, delirious with want, you make sure to stamp it out when you plant your feet on the ground in preparation to your exit. “I’m gonna go. Bye.”

“Wait!” Gojo stops you before you can spin and run against the wind. He reaches over Geto’s shoulder, pressing his chest against his back. Suguru starts to protest, you see him aim his elbow at Satoru’s stomach. It doesn’t stop him, however, from once more plucking the lollipop from your mouth with talented fingers.

Just as before, you watch him with a petrified expression as he crams the lollipop in his mouth, half of his body draped over Geto Suguru.

“You can go now!” he bids you adieu cheerfully. A hand wave and a smile is all you get for your mortification. “Thank for the kiss. This is my favorite flavor, actually.”

Suguru’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead.

“HUH?” he shouts, as he attempts to look over his shoulder at Gojo.

He does his best to shake him off of him, his gaze flickering from you to his friend repeatedly. Your heart freezes painfully, and there is a heat wrapping around your neck that suffocates you, that buries every excuse and explanation back into your stomach where it gets ready to fester.

You’ll feel them there later, tangling themselves into knots, as you lay in bed awake replaying this disaster of a meeting with your high school crush.

Unable to bear it anymore, you spin on your heels and speed walk away, far enough until you think you’re out of their line of sight; but the school gate seems so far away, as if the distance is never shortened and although you tell yourself to be patient, to just suck it up for a little longer, tears prickle your eyes. Your legs kick up as you start sprinting away, and take a sharp corner at the gate disappearing from Geto and Gojo’s sight.

Suguru finally shakes him off, and for his grievous affront, he makes sure to dig his pointy elbow into the apex of Satoru’s abdomen.

Gojo coughs and folds over, wheezing as he takes in a deep breath. He laughs, deeply amused by jokes Geto wasn’t privy to. Despite having been practically thrown off his body already, Satoru goes back to Suguru, this time propping his arm on one of his shoulders.

“She’s cute, right?” Gojo asks, peering closely into Suguru’s eyes.

Suguru finds that his friend is uncomfortably close, as he often was. He swallows thickly, a knot inside his throat that is indiscernible, tastes bittersweet on its way down. There’s a heat on the back of his neck that touches tenderly, turning the tips of his ears crimson.

“Leave her alone,” he argues, voice so taut he fears his vocal chords might tear. Suguru swallows again hoping that would solve the issue. He shrugs his shoulder, efficiently ridding himself of the source of his current affliction; at least for now; at least until he remembers the bright shade of blue of Satoru’s eyes in the middle of the night. “You don’t even like her.”

“Says who?”

“Says I.” Silence falls between them, a rare ordeal. Geto feels his shoulders stiffen as Gojo peers at him from behind his dark shades. He senses the questions in the way he stands, knows that Satoru is running through various scenarios in an effort to figure him out. If he doesn’t speak now, he might be asked questions he doesn’t want to answer. “Well, do you?”

He forces the words out, throws them like stones at a fragile skylight.

“I don’t know,” Satoru admits with a crooked smile, a dimple decorating one cheek. “Maybe? She’s interesting.”

The thing with throwing stones at glass ceilings, it’s that sometimes they shattered all around you. Geto pretends the shards don’t cut right through him. He pretends just like he’s done countless times before.

“Like I said,” he pauses to lick his bottom lip, mouth going dry. “Leave her alone. You’re just bored. Let’s go find something else to do.” He begins to walk, expecting Satoru to follow him closely—and he does as predicted.

“Oh, you wanna go to the arcade? Why?” he asks, bumping into Suguru playfully. Suguru allows himself to be swayed, and fights off a smile. “You lose against me every time. You’re that desperate to buy me food?”

“Shut up, Satoru.”

“I want McDonald’s.”

Suguru sighs heavily.

“Fine.”

[zerobaselove]

my favorite | park gunwook

pairing: gunwook x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 939

warnings: none! lowercase intended, not proofread

prompts: 7. "dont tell me you're jealous" 30. "you make it hard to think straight"

notes: my wookie ohhh i love him so bad. i've been pretty busy lately but i did manage to pop this out in a pretty quick time so <3 anything for him tbh

ever since you started dating gunwook you had found yourself getting close with the other members; it was inevitable really, always visiting gunwook at practice and the dorms meant you were also always visiting them. surprisingly you actually got along really well with everyone, despite your fear that they wouldn't like you.

you had especially gotten to be on good terms with gunwook's best friend, gyuvin. he was always fun to be around and the three of you found it easy to hang out together without anything being weird. it was nice. after years of longing for a close group of friends, you finally had one, and you had gunwook; it didn't get much better than that.

today was a day off for the boys, a rare occasion that you knew you had to take advantage of. according to gunwook he had the dorm all to himself, almost. gyuvin was there too, both deciding to stay in on the free day instead of going shopping or out with friends like the others. so in an attempt to be nice, you stopped at the store to grab them some snacks for all their hard work lately.

you grabbed a few snacks, one you had seen gyuvin eating with gunwook once, a safe option you'd like to think, as well as some drinks and gunwook's absolute favorite snack.

soon enough you found yourself knocking on the door to their dorm, hearing some muffled shuffling before being greeted with gyuvin's smile. "oh gunwook is just in the shower, c'mon in." he opened the door, gesturing you into the kitchen as he locked the door behind you.

"i brought treats!" you enthused, holding the convenience store bag in your hand before reaching in to grab the snacks you got for gyuvin.

the two of you chatted for a bit, gyuvin even sharing his snack with you to show his gratitude until gunwook made an entrance. his hair was still damp and sticking to his forehead, partnered with the glasses resting on his nose. "hi love," he came up behind you to drape his arms over your shoulders. you relaxed into his touch despite the drips of cold water coming off of his hair, giving him a similar greeting before standing up, not noticing the way his eyes grazed over you and gyuvin in front of him.

"you two go have fun, i have to catch up on a show." gyuvin smiled, heading off to his bedroom with his drink, opting to leave his snack on the counter. now that you were alone you couldn't help but notice the expression plastered across gunwook's face. "what's wrong wook?" you questioned, bringing your hand up to brush a damp strand of hair from his eyes.

"it's nothing," he mumbled, barely audible through the pout that he displayed as his arms crossed in front of him.

gunwook was stubborn, this wasn't news to you, but he also knew you weren't stupid, so you ran over anything that could've made him upset today. you quickly scanned the room, eyes landing on the snacks and the empty seat that once sat gyuvin a few minutes ago. bingo.

"wook," you chuckled, "don't tell me you're jealous."

"you got him snacks," he pouted again, unable to control his tone as he stood there staring at you. you could only laugh for a moment as you picked up the bag on the floor, "i got you snacks too, silly." you pulled out a bag of home run balls and a carton of chocolate milk for the boy sulking in front of you before holding it out to him.

he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, "those are my favorites, how'd you know?"

"i pay attention gunwook," you placed the snacks down on the table as you gestured for him to sit with you. "did you really think i'd get gyuvin snacks and not you?" he shrunk into himself at the statement; yeah, it seemed a little weird that you'd do that, but he didn't always prove to be the smartest when it came to the person he loved.

he shook his head, mumbling a "no" under his breath as he shyly opened the chocolate milk carton. "thank you." his voice was a little louder this time.

"no need to thank me," you ruffled his hair, letting out a small chuckle at the endearing boy in front of you, "you're cute when you're jealous by the way."

the blush that dusted across his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by you, and you couldn't help but wonder how you got so lucky to have such a cute boy in your life.

"listen it's not my fault," he sighed, taking another sip of his drink, "you just," he paused for a moment, "you make it hard to think straight."

now it was your turn to blush, a little flustered at the innocent confession from the boy sitting beside you. you took a few moments to compose yourself before responding, "well i'm honored," a slight questioning tone in your voice, but genuine nonetheless.

a shy smile spread across his lips as he grabbed your hand with his free hand, the other holding the snacks and his drink, "well c'mon," he started, pulling you off towards his room, "you promised me you'd play games with me."

and that's how your afternoon went; back and forth bickering as you competed in various games. as much as you loved your boyfriend, you'd be damned if you went easy on him, so that incident wouldn't be the last time you saw pouty gunwook before the day was over.

[girlboybug]

Be Quiet and Drive Far Away

"it feels good to know you're mine."

or the one where ellie takes you out on a celebratory drive after winning a basketball game.

what’s playing 🎧 : be quiet and drive by deftones

pairing : ellie x female!reader (modern college au)

word count : 7k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, heavy petting, oral f!receiving (obvi lolz), facesitting, fingering, grinding, messy makeouts, car sex, virginity loss, weed usage, praise, lowk jealous ellie oops, but also jealous!reader :0 groping, manhandling, dry humping, mentions of strap, masturbation, slight hair pulling, light restraining, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, semi public sex ?? fluff at the end teehee i love lesbians

TRIGGER WARNINGS : sex under the influence but both reader and ellie are high, i can't think of anything else but if i missed smth pls lmk, otherwise enjoy <3

a/n : i know ellie is 5'5 but in this pretend she's 5'10 pls & ty teehee

you’re sitting with jesse and dina, trying to be polite and engage in conversation, but you can’t. you can’t keep up with trying to time your fake laughter in time when they make a joke, not because they aren’t funny, but you can’t pay attention. 

the only thing you can focus on is ellie. ellie ellie ellie

dina’s not stupid, she’s been involved with ellie. she knows how enticing she can be without even having to try.

she’s also quick to notice your lack of involvement in conversing, she can follow your eyes that always lead right to ellie. she doesn’t blame you, no one could. all the girls in your friend group have fallen victim to ellie’s effect.

and now it was your turn. 

your heart picks up just that much more, when ellie glances at you in the bleachers, and she smiles for a moment, waving at you before she returns her attention back to the game. “WOO YEAH ELLIE!” jesse yells, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“i barely understand what’s happening,” he whispers to both you and dina and you laugh, shrugging. “honestly? i don’t either, i’m just here for ellie,” and jesse doesn’t even have time to stop himself from laughing. 

“oh we know,” he snickers and dina nudges him. “don’t be a dick,” she chides, glancing over at you while you try to lessen the hot embarrassment in your cheeks.

“sorry, sorry,” he says comfortingly, scooting closer to you on the bleachers. he rubs your arm and you lean on his shoulder, watching ellie dribble the basketball. 

she’s hunched forward, and you can see the necklace you gave her on her birthday hang from her neck, and a bit of warmth flutters in the pit of your stomach at the sweet detail.

you watch ellie push at her opponents, knocking them down like it’s nothing, dribbling the ball before shooting and scoring, not once missing the hoop. she’s impressive, but you don’t really care about the game, no no, all you can manage to care about is just how good ellie looks.   

the navy blue uniform fits her so well, it complements her fair skin, and the way she pauses, holding the ball between her thighs when she re-ties her hair, pulling the top half back and letting the front strands fall beside her temples, inevitably sticking to her from the sweat, you can’t bear it. 

you’re so, so happy you made dina and jesse come early to the game, swearing up and down if you just beat the crowd you’d score good seats, and boy were you more than right. 

you got a front seat to all the action, up close glances at ellie’s hands gripping the ball, her long slender fingers curling over the curve of it, made you squirm just a little. 

she walks to the side, taking gulps of water from her bottle, and you watch the droplets stream down her chin messily, trickling beneath her jersey. 

she lifts it up, wiping her mouth clean, and your grip on jesse’s arm gets tighter, your eyes unable to peel themselves off the sight of her fit and toned abdomen. 

ugh. you need her. 

jesse looks down at you, bumping you gently with his shoulder. “you feelin’ alright?” he asks and you sit up, nodding with a pat to his knee. “yeah, uh yeah, sorry, i’m good.” you sip from the slushie dina bought and he raises a brow, clicking his tongue. “yeah…okay,” he chuckles, turning back to face forward. 

dina tilts her head backwards behind jesse’s back, catching your stare. she smiles knowingly at you, wiggling your hand in her’s. you both share a laugh before looking back at the game. 

– 

the game ends, and you’re waiting for ellie in the parking lot to come out from the locker rooms. you’re nervously fiddling with the ends of your tank top, tugging at the loose threads, and dina notices. 

she stands next to you, bumping her hips to your’s. “you make things so obvious, be cool, i think she’s coming,” she says quietly, low enough for only you to hear, and you make a squeaky sound full of nerves, looking at her with wide worried eyes. “don’t freak! you look good,” she winks, falling back behind you with jesse. 

ellie spots the three of you, her long legs taking strides right to where you all stood. “WOO there’s our champ, congrats dude you killed it,” jesse cheers, and ellie laughs, shaking her head when jesse and her connect hands and hug with a firm pat over the back. 

“thank you, thank you,” she curtsies with the ends of her flannel. 

“hey din,” she greets, and dina smiles, pulling her in for a hug. her sights shift to you, and her smile deepens. “hi,” she breathes out, her hand falling to your waist, her grasp was just a passing away from tight as she ushers you in her arms. 

you squeeze her back, the scent of her freshly washed hair and skin filling your senses. “you did great,” you praise softly, and she replies with an equally soft, thank you, her hand deviating right on the curve above your ass, running her hand side to side. 

a spark explodes in the space cradled by the plump of your thighs at her touch. 

you can smell the honey and white oak native body wash on her, feeling dizzy from it even when she lets you go, her hands still lingering over your waist. she eyes you, mouthing a silent hi once more before her eyes fall back to jesse and dina. 

“so!” she claps her hands together, rubbing them excitedly when she stands amidst you three. “where’re you guys takin’ me for my celebration dinner?” 

“about that,” jesse sighs awkwardly, scratching at his neck. “dina and i gotta study for that molecular biology exam tomorrow, we won’t be able to do the dinner celebration with you tonight, i’m sorry ells,” he frowns, but you’re not stupid, actually, even an idiot could see through his poor excuse of a lie. 

“yeah, i’m sorry ellie, i promise we’ll make it up to you, but!” dina’s eyes flicker to you, and your eyes widen, your face drops in horror, shaking your head and hands rapidly behind ellie. “someone is still free,” she nods towards you, and ellie turns to look at you. 

you paint a smile over the anxiety etched in your face. “you still down for dinner?” she asks, and you bob your head affirmatively, praying she can’t see how painfully nervous you are. 

“alright well,” she drapes an arm over your shoulders, turning back to dina and jesse. “you guys suck, we are gonna go have dinner. later.” she sends them a peace sign, walking with you over to her truck. 

“how much you wanna bet she’s gonna hit?” jesse asks and dina, groans, rolling her eyes. “you’re gross,” she hops in the car, and he joins her in the passenger seat.

“but 20 bucks.” she answers, looking at him with an upside down smile. jesse laughs, taking her hand in a firm shake. “you’re on.” 

– 

it’s quiet for awhile, the sound of cars driving beside the truck is calming, the sound of ellie drumming her fingers against the steering wheel is too, but no matter how tame your environment is, you just can’t seem to shed the anxiety that comes with being alone with her. but lucky for you, she speaks while you can’t seem to. 

“so you and jesse are gettin’ pretty close huh?” she asks, her left elbow resting against the car window, driving with her right hand. she looks over at you, and you look back, slightly confused.

“uh, i mean i suppose. he hangs around dina and i’s dorm a lot.” 

she nods, a quiet yeah while she purses her lips. “i just ask because you guys seemed kinda. buddy buddy at the game,” and you laugh in a hushed disbelief, turning in your seat to face her. 

“dude, it’s definitely not like that,” you’re shaking your head, the thought of you and jesse being together is almost hysterical. 

the thought of you being with anyone that wasn’t the girl sitting right next to you was ridiculous, but you keep that thought to yourself. 

“nah, i just mean..it’d be…cute, if you guys were a thing.” cute sounds forced coming from ellie, the taste on her tongue from verbalizing the image of you and jesse together leaves her crinkling her lips to the side, unhappy with the thought. 

you laugh again, and she gazes over at you, brow raised, thumb running under her bottom lip. “somethin’ funny?” she half laughs dryly. 

“no no, it’s just,” your laughter fades as you wipe the fake tears from your eyes. “you sound jealous is all. it’s silly.” 

the corner of her lips curl just a little, and she inches her head towards you, her hand resting on the stick shift. “do i?” she asks, her voice dropping lower than it usually is, and you swallow hard, feeling hot under her gaze. 

you look at the hand that rests next to you on the stick shift, eyes tracing over her knuckles, the rings that adorn them…

you look back up at her and she laughs under her breath, catching you in your stares. she continues driving once the red light switches back to green. “here, you can play whatever you want.” she hands you her phone, and you grin, giggling something cute, taking her phone. 

your brows come up in surprise when you log in to her spotify. the saved playlists in her recent activity are not her’s. 

“these playlists. they look… familiar,” you suck on your bottom lip to keep from the wide smile itching to spread.

her cheeks get a little pinker at your observations and she chuckles, leaning in deeper in her seat, running her fingers under her lips. “caught me. i stalked your spotify.” 

you scroll through the many saved playlists, laughing in shock when you look back at her. “creep, you have just about every playlist i’ve ever made.” the words ring even truer when you land on the playlist entitled e. 

shit. 

you clear your throat, quickly choosing a playlist that wasn’t the one you made during a crying fit at 2am because you overheard from jesse that she was hooking up with a girl from her basketball team. 

“i just so happen to think you have good music taste, and by the way,” she glances away from the road for a moment over to you, pointing a finger in the air. “no one ever gets aux privileges in the truck, so feel special.” 

you hold her phone to your chest, bowing with dramatic graciousness. “thank you ellie for this honor, i will appreciate it until the day i die,” she half scoffs, half laughs, the tip of her tongue poking her cheek. “yeah you better,” she feigns a grumble. 

“anyways,” you draw out, poking at her sides, laughing when she does at your prodding. “where does the winner wanna eat?” 

“agh i was just thinking about that, i kinda want something fancy, i feel like i need to eat something fit for a king,” she’s partially joking, but she’s starving, ready to eat just about anything, and she almost says that when she looks over at you.

she wonders how much you’d squirm if she said that. 

“ahh yes, a feast if you will,” you agree, tapping your chin. “what’s fancy and nearby?” 

— 

you two landed in an olive garden. 

“this is the fanciest place i know!” ellie says in defense, trying to convince you of the pure class olive garden has to offer. 

“no yeah, i definitely believe that olive garden is the fanciest place you know,” you laugh quietly when she opens the door for you. 

“don’t be rude,” she squints at you, pointing at you in tandem. 

you two are seated by a hostess, ellie trails behind you, her hand in the middle of your back while you walk, and you have to pretend it isn’t affecting you, and that the heat from her hand doesn’t radiate itself all the way down to a place where it shouldn’t be. 

“your server will be right with you,” is what you both are left with before you start scavenging over the menu. 

“i’m kinda tempted to get the tour of italy thing but i’m gonna be glued to their toilet if i do,” ellie clicks her tongue and you laugh behind the menu. 

“well,” you set the menu down, ellie following in your actions. “is it worth it? tour of italy feast and then explosive diarrhea or one plate of pasta and a minor poop session?” 

ellie stares at you with lips cracking into a wobbly laugh. “you really know how to set the mood, don't you?” and you laugh, despite the feeling that picks up in your lower stomach. 

set the mood? 

was there a mood to be set? 

before you can reply, the waiter comes, and you’re half tempted to tell him you need more time, just for a few more seconds alone with ellie. 

–

“you’re not paying.” ellie says with finality, giving you a look that says don’t argue. but naturally, of course you do. 

“no dude c’mon, it’s your night, you shouldn’t have to pay.” you try to tug at the bill, but her grip is unwavering. “yeah, my night, my rules.” she taps the bill over your nose before digging out her wallet. she slides her credit card into the tablet at the table, winking at you when she catches your annoyed stare. 

you roll your eyes despite the fluttery feeling rushing in your chest at the small act. “next time i’m paying.” you promise, and ellie nods patronizingly, opening the door for you on your way out. “don’t give me that look, i’m serious!” 

ellie just hums an, i’m sure you are, tossing one of those chocolate mints into her mouth. 

“where to next?” you ask, buckling yourself up in the passenger seat. she rests her elbow on your seat, turning around to watch the back of her truck while she pulls out. 

your face gets hot, and you can’t get yourself to scoot away from how close she is to you. 

“uh, dunno. figured we could just drive around for a bit. that cool with you?” she asks, still close to you, close and in your air. you can smell the chocolate mint and peach bellini tea on her breath and you have to calm yourself before you speak. 

“yeah, yeah it-it’s cool with me.” you respond quieter than you intended. 

“you sure? i can drop you back off at your dorm if you’re not feelin’ it–” 

“no, i mean aha, no no it’s all good with me,” you reply faster than you meant, and you feel like slapping yourself when she laughs. “alright,” she smiles at you, turning back to face the road.

music fills in the silence when you can’t, mind buzzing with possible things to say, none of them sounding good enough to mention. 

“so, i heard you’re talking to abby,” ellie says, pulling you up and out of the heaps of thoughts you dug yourself into. 

“wait, like talking talking?” you ask, and ellie nods, sucking on her teeth, and you can’t help but wonder if her visible dislike of mentioning abby is because she’s jealous, or because she just doesn’t like her. you tell yourself it’s the ladder, but a giddy feeling fills you up from the pit of your gut at the idea of the other option. 

“no, no it’s not like that, i think she’s still into owen or something.” you answer and ellie stays quiet, nodding to herself slowly. 

“but if she wasn’t?” she pushes a little further, glancing over at you. “well, i don’t really like abby like that, she’s not my type.” you shrug, and ellie chuckles. “yeah, girls?” 

you feel like yelling in her face that you more than like girls, if anything you happen to be in love with the one that’s currently driving.  

“no stupid, if anything i’m not…particularly into owen’s type. abby’s cool but, i’m not interested.” you’re treading lightly on this topic, not quite sure why, ellie’s the last person you should be nervous to talk about this with, and yet you still are. 

to be fair, ellie just makes you nervous to begin with. 

when she pulls to a stop at the red light, her hand finds its way back behind your seat, very close to the nape of your neck.

she's tilting her head at you, her skin illuminating from the bright red glare from the light, and a curl at her lips makes you feel hot all over. “really? i didn’t know you were into girls,” 

“how?” you laugh and she shrugs, joining you in your laugh. “well you never said anything!” she replies, her words hanging off the curve of playful exasperation. 

you point your knees towards her, letting yourself get closer. “you never asked.” you reply, and she sucks on her bottom lip, her fingers brushing behind your neck, trailing your shoulder. “yeah, you’re right.” she all but whispers, barely covering the sound of your shivering at her ghosting touches.  

“i kinda guessed, but just left it as wishful thinking.” you peer at her wordlessly, her comment echoing in the walls of your head. 

what was there to be wishful of? is she purposefully saying this shit? 

“i wouldn’t have minded,” you decide to say, and she hums a, minded what?

“if you asked. i…i wouldn’t have minded.” you’re quiet when you speak again, and ellie nods to herself, and she chuckles something to herself. “should’ve asked then.” 

its quiet for awhile more, until ellie speaks up. “and by the way, you could do a lot better than abby anderson,” you exhale a little at what she says, feigning unsurety, leaning towards where her hand rests. 

“i dunno, she is kind of hot.” ellie’s brows screw together and she scoffs. “her name sounds like she came up with it on the spot, she’s always got the same fuckin’ braid and she plays a stupid sport.” 

you’re holding back the volume of how hard you want to laugh, which is loudly, but you refrain. “her name is normal and softball isn’t stupid.” she shoots you a suspecting glare, eyes flickering over you up and down. “you sure you don’t like abby?” 

you huff, punching at her shoulder, trying to hide your smile when she laughs an ow dude!

“i don’t like abby,” you grumble, and ellie’s lips turn in a cocky way at your confirmation, wanting to rub it right in abby’s face. 

“but what about you?” you ask, somewhat accusingly, interrupting ellie’s internal gloating. “what about me? you know i can’t stand her,” she answers and you blow out an irritated sigh. 

“not who i’m talking about. i heard you have a thing with one of the girls on your team.” you’re not sure why you let yourself bring it up, the last thing you want to hear is ellie going into detail about her romp with some girl who isn’t you. 

“what?” she laughs airily, her wrist now hanging off the stick shift. “where’d you hear that?” she queries and you purse your lips, shrugging.

“probably from the same place where you heard that i’m talking to abby.” your brow raises at her, and her tongue pokes at her cheek, thumb running along her chin. “alright, alright,” she chuckles under her breath. 

“it was nothin’ serious, she wanted to experiment, and i happened to be the one she wanted to use as a test drive.” she drums her fingers against the steering wheel, tittering stilly at the memory and you grow uncomfortable, almost upset that she even has something to remember between her and that girl. and it looks like she doesn’t quite mind the memory either. 

“that’s like what? the fifth girl you’ve let experiment with you? you’re like the community strap.” ellie looks at you, ears taking notice of the scorn in your grousing. “wow, okay did i strike a nerve somehow?” 

“no, no, not at all.” you reply, and ellie watches you for a little longer, seeing that you’re not looking at her. uh huh. she hums to herself before digging through her center console. she pulls out a blunt, quickly fishing out her lighter from her pocket. 

she puts it between her lips, handing you the lighter. she points it towards you, and you hold the lit lighter to the end of her blunt, and she blinks a thanks, at you. she inhales, holding it in, breathing it as much as she can, before letting it fan out. she hands it to you, and you accept. 

you two pass it back and forth, taking silent drags from it until the silence turns to giggling. “i just feel like i’d be… i don’t know, bad at it? it’s been so long you know?” you admit through a fit of embarrassed giggles and ellie breathes through her’s before responding. 

“couldn’t have been that long. how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?” you suck in your lips, and she bumps your arm. “i won’t judge, i promise.” she swears, and you sigh, closing your eyes when you take in a long drag, handing it back to her when you exhale. 

“the third day in the first week of senior year in highschool.” ellie just about slams on the breaks, and you jerk forward, gripping onto your seatbelt. “ellie the fuck–” 

“nah dude, you what the fuck! it’s been like, 3 almost 4 years since you’ve kissed anyone?” she’s shocked, and she’s loud, and you wish you never said anything. “what happened to no judging?” you frown, taking back the blunt. “no, no i’m not judging, just…shocked no one’s kissed you in that long,” she murmurs, running her hand across your forearm. 

your skin prickles up under her warm palm, and your eyes drift over to the tattoos on the arm touching you, her rolled up flannel fitting around her elbow. 

you let your staring fall into her eyes. her throat bobs, and she turns away, her hand still on your arm, the other back on the steering wheel. 

“where are we going?” you ask, waiting for her to answer while she’s got the blunt between her lips. “somewhere i can change that.” 

your heart freezes before it beats harder than it ever has beneath your chest cavity. “what?” you breathe out and she turns to you. “only if you want,” she replies in the same breath. “okay,” you nod, squeezing the hand on your arm. 

she taps the ashes out the window when she pulls up into the picnic area of a park that faces a lake. 

and when she turns the keys, killing the engine, it’s too quiet, the ringing in your ears suddenly getting louder and louder. 

she shifts around in her seat, fully facing you, and she leans in, the tips of her fingers tracing over the apple of your cheek. 

“we don’t have to if you don’t want to, i don’t want you to feel pressured or anything,” she murmurs, her soft words fanning over your lips. 

you shake your head, inching closer. “i don’t feel pressured, just nervous,” you admit, the air slowly depleting from your voice. 

“i know, s’okay. i got you. come here,” her hand rests on the side of your neck, cradling you to her. she tilts her heard towards you, quickly flicking the roach out the window. 

her lips are on your’s, the second you two interlock, she lets out something like a moan in your mouth, it’s quiet but filled with relief. 

she wants more. 

you’re holding her cheeks, pulling her in closer while her hand keeps you stuck to her, her fingers splayed along your jawline, her thumb on the side of your chin. 

the sounds from your kiss fill the truck, and it does something to ellie, it does something to you. 

you whimper in her mouth when her tongue pushes between your lips, flicking over yours. you hold on tighter, feeling weak when her tongue piercing grazes you.

she likes the way you cling to her, likes the way your body tells on you, making it clear you’re enjoying this as much as she is. you’re tilting your heads side to side at a slow pace, moving in closer to each other now, hands starting to wander. 

the burn from a lack of air feels good, you’re slightly faint, but that’s just ellie’s effect. 

her lips sponge a few times to yours before she pulls apart, light gasps for air while she rests her forehead to your’s. 

“you sure you haven’t kissed anyone in awhile?” she chuckles, running her hands up and down your arms. 

you giggle, pecking her lips. “yeah, i’m sure.” you breathe through your fading giggles. 

“i felt your tongue piercing, i didn’t know you actually got it done,” you mention, voice still wavering, the imprint of her lips on yours tracing itself into circles over your own, and she exhales a breathless laugh, moving in nearer. 

“you wanna feel it again?” she offers, words falling heavy into temptation. you don’t say anything, you just pull her back in with both hands on either side of her face. 

she groans in your mouth, her hand holding you as close as can be by the back of your neck. 

you’re both breathing through your noses, too enthralled by the way the other feels pressed up against each other, air feeling unimportant in comparison. 

her tongue is on yours, and she slightly inches back, sucking on your bottom lip, letting it fall back in place before going back in, kissing you hard. 

her hand lays on your thigh, traveling up your hip, squeezing, pulling you in closer, but you can’t get any closer than you already are. 

“ellie,” you expel what little breaths you have to whisper her name. “yeah?” she mumbles, kissing at your jaw. “i wanna be closer,” your nervousness melts away little by little, and you think maybe she took it from you when you kissed. 

“we can move to the back of the truck, there isn’t much more space than this in the backseat,” she swallows, pressing another peck to your lips. you nod, and she holds your hip a little tighter before you make your way out the truck. 

when you both meet at the back of her truck, she looks down at you, running her thumb over your chin for a moment before pulling the trunk down.

there’s already sheets laid out and you look at her suspiciously, uhh? coming out your mouth.

“was this an elaborate scheme to get me in the back of your trunk?” you ask, knowing that even if it was, you wouldn’t have cared. 

“no, oh god, joel was helping me move some shit and he laid that down so it didn’t scratch the bed of my truck i swear,” she rambles, and it’s the first time you’ve ever been the one to make her flustered. 

you laugh, clambering up into the trunk. “i’m kidding ells, now hurry up it’s cold,” your knees close together, elbows supporting you upright so you can continue looking at her. 

“i’ll warm you up,” she promises stilly, climbing up after you.

she closes the bed of the truck up, laying right beside you, hand holding her head while the other rests on your waist. 

her hand drops from her head to rest beside yours when she leans back in to kiss you. you moan as soon as your lips touch her’s, trying to get closer and closer. 

she finds herself on top of you, one leg resting under your’s while her other knee rests aside your hip, and when she leans down, sliding herself right up against you, you whimper in her mouth, struggling to kiss her back when you connect there. 

the seams at the crotch of your jeans create a friction you both share, and it’s too good.

she’s grunting above you, kissing you hard and messily while she ruts her cunt against your’s, your sweet little cries fueling her, adding gas to her fire that’s already burning her skin hot. 

you try to sit up, try to kiss her more, but she pushes you down, grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head. 

she’s panting just inches from your face, the necklace you gifted her dangling in front of you, the silver E glimmering in the moonlight. 

“can feel how wet you are from the outside of your jeans,” she breathes out a cocky chuckle, holding your wrists with one hand while the other dips beneath your tank top, her hand warm at the base of your tummy. 

she lets it move up and up and up until it’s bunched at your chin, your chest bared in a cute little bra, the kind with a zipper at the front. 

she lowers herself down to it, teeth latching onto the zipper, eyes peering up at you when she drags it down, sighing lowly, carnally, at the sight of your bare tits. 

your shoulders try to curl on themselves shyly, but she grips tighter onto your wrists, shaking her head. “fuckin’ hot,” she mutters more to herself, ducking down and attacking one with her mouth, tongue hot and wet, swirling over your nipples, switching between the two. “ellie,” you whimper, back arching. “let me touch you,” you gasp when her teeth graze your nipple. “please?” 

she obliges, releasing her hold on your wrists, and they soon fall to her short hair, weaving through the coffee strands. 

she kisses down your sternum, down to the middle of your stomach, but you stop her right when she reaches the button of your jeans. 

she looks up at you, rising back up to hold your cheek. “sorry, did i go too far?” she asks softly, and you shake your head, clearing away the strands from her eyes. “no, i just…i’ve never…” she gapes at you at your confession. 

“you’re a virgin?” you nod, looking away. her index finger guides you by your jaw to look back at her, and she laughs airly. “that’s okay, you don’t need to be embarrassed, but if you wanna do this, i promise, i’ll make it good for you.” she creates a covenant she’s confident will go unbroken, eager to show you how good she can make you feel. 

“i’m just scared i won’t… be as good as the other girl’s you’ve been with–” 

“hey,” she interrupts you, her hand already resting on your inner thigh, gripping tightly. “they don’t matter. all that does is you,” she whispers into your hair, kissing the space just before your ear before she makes her way back down. 

she unbuttons your jeans, pulling them all the way down after you’ve kicked your shoes off. you’re left feeling colder than when you started, but ellie is quick to fix it. 

she leaves wet kisses all around your lower tummy, letting her breath fan over your dampening underwear. 

a sense of pure pride resonates in her chest when she sees how wet you are, and it’s all for her. 

she pushes your underwear to the side, and she sighs when she sees your bare cunt, squeezing her thighs together at the sight of you soaked. 

“show me how you touch yourself,” she instructs, her voice soft, but she’s serious, stern. “what?” you ask, unsure if you heard her right. “you heard me. touch yourself. i wanna see what you do that makes you feel good.” she says silkenly, kissing your inner thigh. your breath hitches. 

“ellie…” your words dwindling back into nervousness. “hey,” she moves back up, her face close to yours. “i wanna touch you the way you like, just show me what you do and i’ll take care of the rest.” she kisses her confirmation into your cheek before lowering herself back down. 

you close your eyes, head resting against the bed of the truck when your fingers find themselves over your clit, rubbing familiar circles over it, feeling your hips start to twist at the light touches. 

you dip down into your hole, pushing in, unable to reach the spot you desperately wish you could reach, moaning a quiet complaint, and ellie can’t get any wetter than she is as she watches you.

she could fix that little issue for you.

“did you ever think of me while you touched yourself?” she asks, her hands already starting to ready themselves at your thighs. you nod thoughtlessly, whimpering. “always wanted it to be your hands,” shifting around, the aching sensation only growing.

“so fuckin’ pretty, i’ll take care of you,” she growls, moving your hands aside and diving in as fast as she can, feeling starved yet again but for something sweeter this time. 

she moans almost louder than you do once her tongue is on you. you’re shaking, hands finding purchase in the short locks of her hair, trying your best to not yank on them but it’s so hard not to. 

it’s difficult trying to think clearly when she’s burying her face as far as it can go into your cunt, her tongue and lips sucking over your clit, her fingers pushing themselves into your fluttering hole. 

you’re grateful there’s no one around to witness this, your naked chest, heaving with an ajar mouth flowing with endless moans, and a pretty girl between your thighs going down on you in the back of her truck. 

she smacks at your thighs, gripping them hard and keeping them open, spreading you wide for her. 

“ellie, fuck,” you cry out, trying to buck yourself deeper into her mouth, but she keeps you in your place, an arm pressing down on your tummy, adding even more pressure to the already intense feeling over her flicking her tongue on your clit. 

your eyes roll back and all you can do is cry out her name in the most incoherent mess she’s ever heard from you. 

she cups herself, trying to soothe the ache throbbing between her thighs. 

but you’re the more important one, she can wait. she pushes her finger back inside you, and it’s long, you squirm when she pushes into you until she hits the knuckle. 

she curls over the spongy spot inside you, almost smirking against your cunt when you just about sob. 

“that feel good?” she asks breathlessly, mouth wet from your slick when she looks up at you, her wrist still moving, finger still deep in you, fucking you. “uh huh,” you nod pathetically watery eyes barely able to look back at her. “feels sooo good ellie, so good,” you slur, head falling back while you grind down onto her. 

“good, baby that’s the goal,” she says lowly, a chuckle somewhere in her words, her lips grazing over your clit when she speaks. 

you shudder, trying to have more of her. she keeps her forearm firm atop your stomach, too busy eating you out for you to move away, she’s waited too long and you’re not gonna squirm away from it. 

you’re panting, clawing at the sheet you’re laying on top of, legs buckling around ellie, but she doesn’t care, she lets your thighs encase her, she loves the feeling. her tongue piercing rolling over your clit is too much, but it’s so good, you want more. 

cries of ellie’s name leave past your bitten lips, falling one after the other, and it makes ellie feel near animalistic, she wants her name and her tongue to be the only things you can say and feel. you buck your hips just right, you meet the thrusts of her finger, eyes squeezing the tears gathering at your lashes. 

she rises from between your thighs, her finger staying put inside you. she wants to watch your face when she adds in a second. your back arches, thighs trembling around her wrist when she inches in her index finger. 

you whimper, holding at her flexing bicep and she shushes you, thumbing over your clit to ease you into it. 

“you can take it babe,” she murmurs, kissing your forehead. “s’much,” you hiccup, and she kisses you gently, her words airing out over your lips. “i know, but if you can take my fingers you’ll be able to take my strap,” you tighten around her fingers at her proffers, and she notices, laughing ardently, curling her fingers in deeper. 

“yeah,” she leans down, her nose against your cheek, lips by your ear. “knew you’d like that.” 

her thumb rubs circles over your clit, her fingers working inside you too well, you can barely take it, you’re pulling ellie down to kiss you, and she obliges, holding your face with her free hand. the wet slick sound eliciting from your cunt, makes her kiss you harder, so eager and thrilled to finally be touching you like this, and even more excited knowing she’s got you this soaked for her.

“wanna cum,” you whine into her skin, and she ducks back down between your thighs, her lips wrapping around your clit, replacing her thumb. you cry loudly, grinding down into her mouth, greedily trying to soak up every flick of her tongue, every graze from her piercing. 

“let me taste it baby, cmon let it out,” she coaxes it out of you, her lips sucking over your clit just right, her fingers never relenting inside you, finally satisfying you in ways you could never accomplish before. 

your head whips side to side, back twitching up and down, unable to contain any moans and loud sobs of ellie’s name, the pressure in your tummy bursting and spreading all throughout the entirety of your body. you roll your hips into her, panting, gasping, trying to keep up with her but your body can’t take it, can’t take how much she’s giving you. it feels like your orgasm isn’t ending. ellie won’t let it. 

“ellie please,” you whine, trying to wriggle away from her, but her grip only tightens. 

she removes her fingers, letting her tongue do all the work. you push her away, but she doesn’t budge. “you’re right there baby, give me one more, i know you can,” she has more faith in you than you do yourself, but you can never say no to ellie. 

you endure the burning stimulation rippling under your skin, throbbing through your cunt. you’re freely crying, whining, pleading with ellie, but she doesn’t let up, she can’t just have a taste of your cunt and be one and done, she needs more. 

the pressure rebuilds itself, soon to crumble in on its foundation, and you can’t believe it’s about to happen again, it hurts, but you don’t want it to stop either. all you can do is take it, babbling mindlessly while ellie devours you whole. 

you’re cumming with a loud cry, the inability to stay still doesn’t affect ellie in the slightest, her strong arms keep you planted still, leaving you inescapable from her tongue. she laps you up, taking you all in, gently grazing her teeth over your clit and chuckling when you shiver. 

you can’t stop shaking, your cunt is still buzzing, you can feel every swirl of ellie’s tongue over your clit, her fingers still buried inside you, and the muscle memory makes you twitch when it hits you extra hard. 

she holds you in close, ridding herself of her flannel to drape over you. “y’did so good for me, taste so sweet,” she whispers, watching as you cocoon yourself in her arms, head falling heavy in her chest. you’re still trying to remember how to breathe, pressing soft kisses to the base of her neck. 

“you feel okay?” she asks, quietly, leaning down to check on you, and you nod, humming happily. you crawl out of her arms and on top of her, hands on her shoulders, and she has to fight to maintain eye contact instead of just staring at your chest in front of her. 

“i wanna make you feel good too,” you’re not sure if it’s the weed or the high from the back to back orgasms that’s making you this bold, but you go along with it anyway, the curiosity and hunger for how ellie would taste is what really enables it all. 

her hands fall to your waist, and she looks up at you with an excited challenge in her eyes. “oh yeah?” she asks, mhmm, leaving your lips. 

“you sure? there’s no like, obligation–” it’s your turn to interrupt ellie. 

“ellie,” you lean down. “i’ve wanted to eat you out for as long as i’ve known you. there’s no sense of obligation here,” you whisper, and ellie gapes at you, laughing out of disbelief, but she’d be lying if she said that didn’t make her clit throb. 

she holds your sides, turning you flat on your back, her knees on either side of you now. “yeah? okay, i’ll give you what you want,” she mutters, unbuttoning and unzipping her pants, leaving them to the side where your’s are. 

“gonna let me sit on your face?” she asks, her nose brushing against your’s and your throat tightens with anticipation. “i’ve never..”

“i know baby, but i’ll do all the work, you just listen to me okay?” you nod, mouthing a quiet “okay.”

she’s left in her wife beater and calvin klein boxers, you feel weak at the sight, trying to take a mental image of it for later. when she rids herself of her boxers, you swallow hard, eyes landing over her pussy. it’s so pretty. you think adoringly when she levels herself above your mouth. 

she rubs her clit in front of you, and you moan just under your breath. 

she grabs your wrists, holding them back over your head when she lowers herself down onto you. your tongue is quick to find her clit, and she gasps an oh shit, her forehead resting at the back window of her truck, starting to grind her hips down onto your tongue. 

it’s been awhile since ellie’s done this, and she forgot how intense it feels, the source of pleasure directly pointed into her cunt radiates into her entire body, and she tries to steady herself, tries to not immediately fuck your face. 

your nose rubs side to side over her clit and she groans, back arching and hips swiveling down into your mouth. 

“shit,” she winces, forcing her eyes to open and look at you, taking her cunt so well, eating her like she’s the most important thing you’ve ever had to taste. 

which she is in your book. nothing could be more important than ellie’s cunt on your tongue. 

“you look good like this,” she comments through a breathless laugh, rolling her hips down onto your tongue, shuddering when you curl the tip of it right over her clit. 

“you’re fucking good at this,” she whines, and your clit throbs at the sound, moaning into her with contentment. you understand now why ellie couldn’t pull herself from your cunt. 

now that she’s on your face, you never want to let her get off. 

“so good for me, so fucking good,” she pants, her hand falling back when she releases your wrists, gripping onto the sheet under her. 

your hands wander all over her sides, finding themselves under her wife beater, squeezing at her chest. you pinch at her pebbled nipples, feeling cocky yourself now when she whimpers, buckling further into your mouth. 

you settle on her hips, your arms holding her thighs down to have more of her. you drink her in, tongue licking her up, and down, swirling over her clit like clockwork. 

“fuck, suck on it, yeah, just like that,” she falls forward, arm leaning against the back of her truck while she fucks herself on your tongue, starting to feel herself grow sporadic when your lips envelope her clit, flickering over the sensitive button over and over. 

“gonna cum, gonna, shit!” her thighs tremble on either side of your head, but you keep her still, supporting her with a firm hold on her thighs, tongue never relenting in her. she gasps, shaking while she lets you milk her dry of her orgasm. 

it prickles into a hot pain mixed with the best feeling she’s ever felt, but it’s more she can take, and she struggles to clamber off of you, falling on her ass beside you. 

she grabs you, pulling you on top of her, holding you by the back of your head, her other hand resting low on your back when she kisses you hard. she breathes in your air, tongue colliding and you moan in unison when you taste each other. 

when she pulls away, your foreheads stay together, sharing quiet gasps. “virgin my ass,” she chuckles and your face gets hot, burying it in her neck. she lets you drift to the side of her, she keeps you close, running her hand up and down your back, your bare chest concealed by hiding it into her side.

“i guess now’s as good as any time to confess that i’ve liked you for longer than i’d like to admit.” you mumble, somehow still feeling shy after all that’s happened. 

she smiles, her chin pointing towards the top of your head when she shifts to look at you.

“i was hoping you did. i didn’t wanna just assume you liked girls and get my feelings hurt, so i just… never did anything about it.” she admits, and you punch her shoulder playfully, your heart pounding in your throat at her confessions. 

“ellie! you should have said something, i was pining after you thinking i never had a chance!” and she cups your face, her thumb grazing over your bottom lip. “that’s exactly how i felt,” she chuckles and you grumble, leaning deeper into her. 

“i wish you said something,” you repeat quietly, and she sighs, nodding. 

“do you wanna be my girlfriend?” she asks softly, and you beam at her, slipping an arm under her’s, hugging her tight. “of course i do,” you reply, words under the same blanketed softness. she holds your chin, leaning down to kiss you with a newfound delicateness. 

“good, because i would’ve kept asking until you said yes.” she jokes and you laugh, shaking your head. “i’d never say no to you.”