#helping give this tiny friend a save home

[thekittyfox2999]

John Watson has a shiny Sylveon as his main pokemon

please

please get me

(sherlock still has one wooper through his whole life)

[bluerosefox]

Of Tiny Tots, Mistaken Identities, and Reunions

Seventeen year old Damian Wayne is dragged to a business deal outside of Gotham (along with his father and Drake), mostly to keep up appearances that the family does work outside of Gotham, networking, and because Damian does need to learn the ropes of the company, he decides to head outside the meeting with the Manson family to get a breather (mainly cause the Manson's were annoying him fully, it was like they were trying to suck up towards Damian and trying to push their daughter on him but at the same time he caught them almost insulting and hostile towards him before they would stop and correct themselves) when out of the blue a three year old toddler with black hair comes running over with a cheerful "Daddy!" and latches onto his leg.

Damian is stunned in place but feels frozen when he hears a voice, older and almost identical to his own but he can detect a familiarity in it, a voice he only hears in his dreams nowadays say.

"Ellie, no! That's not me Starlight! I'm so sorry dude-"

When Damian turned his head towards the voice he's meet with an near identical face, granted there were some minor differences, but very, very familiar pair of striking blue eyes staring at him. Eyes that were somehow full of life, which shouldn't be possible because the last time he saw those eyes they had been dim and milked over years ago. The speaker had become startled at the his sudden turn and the words that he had been saying had quickly died out when he too took in Damian's features.

"D...Damian?..." the name came out so soft and small that Damian almost didn't hear it but he did.

And before Damian could stop himself, he spoke a name he hadn't dared utter in years.

"Danyal."

His twin looked like he had just seen a ghost, and Damian was sure he looked the same. And given the last time they had last saw each other it was no wonder they both looked like death warmed over them for a moment.

After all... Damian had failed to protect his brother, Danyal al Ghul all those years ago on a botched mission.

His bother who... wasn't dead.

His brother who was looking like he wanted to run but was keeping himself rooted in his spot.

His brother whose eyes were glancing downwards and seemed so nervous.

His brother who knew the little girl, Ellie, still hugging his legs.

His brother who had... responded and corrected her mix up when she had called Damian 'Daddy.'

And oh, she's looking up at him and making grabby hands wanting to be picked up and she has Danyal's eyes and his nose and-

Oh... Damian.... Damian's an uncle it seems.

[karemandohan1999]

Hamoud, my little boy, is only 17 months old, and he has spent more than half his life in war... He doesn’t know the warmth of a home, nor has he felt the safety of a real shelter. Every night, I hold his tiny hands and see his fingers trembling. I hear his cries, but all I can give him is my heart, yet a heart alone is not enough, and hunger shows no mercy😭😭

All I have is this tent that shudders under the rain. All I ask for are a few drops of milk, a piece of clothing to warm his fragile body, and a chance for him to sleep without the fear of freezing.

To everyone listening, to anyone who has felt the cold of winter: I ask for so little. With just five dollars, you could be the reason Hamoud gets through one night without pain.

Help me give him a warmth the rain can’t wash away, and an innocence that even war cannot take💔😔

Donation Link

Or through PayPal

Our campaign is verified by @90-ghost here and @gaza-evacuation-funds here🤍❤️

[envy-of-the-apple]

Fun Sized

Dark!Fairy!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him. 

(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)

The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body. 

You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you. 

He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive. 

The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right? 

Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought. 

When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you. 

It was silent for a while, and then you said: 

"Do you like sweets?" 

That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs? 

He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window. 

You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back. 

Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette. 

"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough."  You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily. 

It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you. 

And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain. 

It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself. 

"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot." 

You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture." 

"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes." 

You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke. 

"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that." 

He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before. 

"What?" He asks, "Why not?"

"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands." 

"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine." 

"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny. 

You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was. 

"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans." 

He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you." 

"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered." 

"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes. 

"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type." 

"I'm everyone's type." He argues. 

"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder. 

"I like my men a little taller." 

He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize. 

He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back. 

You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening. 

"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet. 

"Hi." He smiles. 

You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face. 

"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?" 

He grins wider, and you relax. 

He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again. 

"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now." 

You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly." 

He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift. 

"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption." 

He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice. 

"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once." 

"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye. 

"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?" 

You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder. 

Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips. 

"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?" 

He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use." 

Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks. 

You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black. 

The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something. 

You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked. 

The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress. 

Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.

There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.

You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now. 

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos. 

You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole. 

He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that. 

"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.." 

You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely. 

"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her." 

"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now." 

"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back." 

He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."

He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens. 

"So, am I tall enough for you, now?" 

[jarofstyles]

Juno

Based off of the song Juno, I tried my hand at writing song inspired one shots again! this one is filthy but I hope you guys enjoy it anyways.

Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive works (sign up on your browser and not the iOS app to save fees!)

WC- 3.5k

Warnings- heavy breeding kink, cum play, soft dom H, slight restraining, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up yall)

It had been a long fucking day.

Being the boss wasn't for the weak, apparently. Harry had been through the ringer today especially. People unable to communicate, an overly long and exastrubsating meeting, having to terminate an employee, all of it had made him itchy for the day to end- only for him to have to stay late to fix a problem. He had felt guilty texting his girlfriend that he was going to be home late, telling her his day had been a bit hellish.

Thankfully, he had been blessed with one of the most incredible women in the world, who assured him she was fine, not to worry about her and she would see him when he got home- but he hadn’t expected just an incredible sight to greet him as he opened the bedroom door.

It was like a vision he’d see in the most incredible of dreams.

Y/N was stretched out on the bed, her head propped up on a pile of pillows. She was wearing a tiny, frilly pink babydoll nightgown that barely covered her assets and showed off her legs- god, her fucking legs. The delicate fabric shimmered in the soft lighting, catching Harry's eye and drawing his gaze downward. Dragging his eyes down the perfectly wrapped present, he counted every single one of his blessings.

“Hi.” She spoke softly, clambering up to her knees and crawling to the end of the bed. “I missed you today, H.”

Harry's heart skipped a beat as he watched her crawl towards him, his eyes taking in the delicate nightgown that flowed over her curves in all the right places, riding up her thighs as she sat on her knees waiting for him. He felt a surge of love wash over him, his exhaustion melting away at the sight of her. Crossing the room in long strides, he met her at the end of the bed. "I missed you too, baby," He murmured. “What’s all this, hm?”

“I got a package today. This was what was in it.” She shrugged, running her hand down her waist to show it off. “I figured you had a rough day, but you like when you see the pretty things I buy. I thought…. Maybe this would make you happy.” Her hands ran over his chest, peering up at him through her lashes. “I wanted to make you happy. I love you so much.”

His eyes softened, warmth spreading through his chest as he took in her words. She really had no idea how much she affected him, how much he absolutely adored her. Reaching out, his fingers brushing against the delicate, shimmery fabric, slowly running it up her thighs until it bunched around her waist. "It makes me very happy, my sweet girl." He murmured, his voice raspy as he took in the sight of her bare hips and thighs. "Come here." Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he urged her to straddle his lap, which she did without complaint.

“I know it’s hard to be the boss all day.” Her voice was silky as she ran her finger through his hair, the gel keeping it back having failed hours ago. The man looked slightly disheveled, and that did something to her. “I know you need to come home and have a soft place to land. You’re so good to me. I brag about you to my friends all the time. About everything.” Even the not so appropriate bits. She couldn’t help it! “I want to be the one to help you make your fantasies come true. You pay the bills here, so…” Shrugging her shoulders, she bit down on her glossy lip. “I figured I’d give you something pretty to come home to.”

Harry's large hands palmed her ass, squeezing lightly as she straddled him, her warmth pressing against him. Her words, her kindness, her thoughtfulness, it all made him want to be a better man. She was the soft place he landed every day, his happy place. He leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed as her fingers combed through his disheveled hair. “You are… incredible. Fuck me. Can’t believe you’re real.”

“Do you like it?” Pressing her lips to the corner of his, she hooked her finger in his shirt and tugged the half undone tie to the ground. “What I put on for you? I know you like to say M’your little angel. Figured this was a little angelic for you.”

He growled softly in approval, his hands tightening on her ass as her fingers made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt. "It's perfect, just like you." He sighed, his voice hoarse with the amount he had yelled today, and his desire for the girl on his lap. His hands roamed over her curves, his touch gentle but greedy. The man could never get enough of her. He loved how she would let him have his way with her, no matter what he desired. Nothing and no one could compare to how she made him feel, playing into every base level instinct he had. "My little angel... Dressed like that... S’almost unfair."

Y/N let out a giggle, loving the effect she had on him. Knowing he was such a powerful man and yet he had a weakness in her was more arousing than she could have prepared herself for. She loved being his soft spot, his little angel. “It is fair, though. I wore it just for you. And I decided…” This was the part she had been nervous about all day. The decision she had made. She wanted him to lock her down. “I know we aren’t married yet, but I don’t think I can let you wait any longer to give you what you want.” Brushing her nose against his, she spoke against his lips. “I think m’gonna let you get me pregnant.”

Harry's breath hitched, his eyes widening for a moment before they filled with a heat that almost burned her. "Y/N..." He growled, his voice low and loaded. "Are you sure? We can wait if you're not ready." Even as he said the words, his hands tightened on her, pulling her closer against him. He wanted it, he wanted her, like this, forever. When she nodded to agree that she was absolutely sure, he let out a deep groan, eyes wild as they searched her own. " Say it again. Please."

“I want you….” She purred, leaning in so their chests were pressed together. “To get me pregnant. Knock me up.” Smearing their lips together, she sucked a soft kiss to his bottom lip before murmuring again. “Put a baby in me.”

A shudder ran through him at her words, his control snapping. "Fuck, Angel..." He groaned, crashing his lips against hers in a bruising kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth, claiming her, tasting her. She tasted so fucking good, so much like his. He couldn’t get enough. One hand tangled in her hair while the other slid down to grip her thigh, squeezing, owning. Pulling her down fully, he ground up against her, letting her feel how hard she made him. It had started the moment he walked in to see her splayed out on the bed, but this was something else. His weakness. "You want my baby?"

“Uh-huh.” She giggled against his mouth, turning it into a whimper as she felt his cock rub up against her. Since coming to the decision she had been wet, aching for him to actually do it. She wanted to keep him, lock him down in every sense of the word. Be the only one for him. She wanted to be the mother of his children, all of them. There was no patience for waiting. The ring could come later- she had known he got one anyway. “I want to be yours so badly. I need it.”

"Shit, baby, you already are.." Standing up and with her in his arms, he turned them over and set her down on the mattress with her back against it, looking at her with intense eyes. "M’going to give you my baby, my everything. You're going to be so fucking pregnant with my child, everyone's going to know it." Fumbling with his belt, he tossed it down and hurriedly stepped out of his trousers, letting his shirt fall off his shoulders as he watched her sit back up.

Her hands went for his briefs, tugging them down with shaky fingers. Y/N was just as needy for it as he was, and it showed. He let his head fall back, a low groan rumbling in his chest as she wrapped her hands around his shaft and pumped slowly, leaning down to lick the tip. He twitched in her grasp, throbbing in her palm.

"That's it, baby..." He encouraged softly, his hands tangling in her hair as he guided her head down, slowly thrusting into her warm, wet mouth. "Just like that. Get it nice n’wet for me." He pulled out, his breathing heavy.

She came back up for air, her hand pumping him slowly as she looked up at him with wide, eager eyes. "Open up for me, sweetheart. Stick out your tongue." He watched intently as she obeyed, baring her neck and tilting her head back. He wrapped a hand around the base of his erection and slowly pumped, his eyes rolling back as he grew harder. "Thatta girl..." He guided the tip to her lips, rubbing the head on her bottom lip.

He fed her his length slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as he savored the hot sensation of her mouth wrapping back around him. He pulled back and thrust into her mouth again, his hands tangling in her hair and guiding her head. "Look at me, Y/N. Keep your eyes on me."

Her eyes fluttered open, her lashes casting shadows on her flushed cheeks as she looked up at him, her mouth stretched around his thick girth. She hummed against him, eyes watering as he thrust further into her mouth. She looked so good, taking him like that, and he couldn’t help but groan, his pace quickening. "That's my good girl. Such a sweet little thing f’me."

He gently thrust in and out of her mouth, his hands cradling her head. "Relax your jaw for me, Y/N... that's it... jus’ like that." He praised her softly, his voice a husky whisper. "You're doing so well, m’love." He thrust a little deeper, pulling back quickly when she gagged slightly, his eyes flashing with concern. "Careful, careful. Breathe through your nose, baby, you can take it… Y’know how to do it."

She breathed in through her nose as he instructed, her chest rising and falling. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes from the push but she didn't pull away, determined to please him. Her hands came up to grip his thighs for balance as he continued to slowly thrust. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked gently, her tongue swirling around the tip each time he pulled out.

He was absolutely stunning, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his chest heaving with each breath. The sight of his strong thighs tensing and flexing under her hands, the way his abs clenched... it was almost too much. She wanted to memorize every detail. She needed to be his, forever. His skin was flushed and damp with exertion, his hair disheveled. He was the picture of raw, masculine beauty. And he was all hers..

It was adorable, how she whimpered at the loss of his cock as he pulled it from her mouth, but he needed to have her fully. Claim her in the way she had promised to let him. “Mmm, shit. Baby, you’re too good. S’okay.” He panted, pulling her up by her arms and crushing his lips against hers. "I need inside, love. I can't...I can't wait any longer. I need t’put my baby in you."

She nodded eagerly against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck as he adjusted her against the fluffy duvet. Never in her life had she been this fucking horny, but that was simply the way the man tended to affect her. Her legs spread wide for him, her heels digging into the bed as she watched him move to hover over her. Positioning himself between her thighs, his hands gripping her hips firmly, admiring the beauty that was his angel underneath him. "Y/N...look at me, sweetheart. Keep your eyes on me, okay?" His voice was gentle, loving, but his face was contorted with raw, unbridled desire.

"Need you t’watch while I knock you up." He grit out, pressing forward and filling her with one long thrust. Letting out a low groan as he bottomed out, his eyes fluttered shut in rapture. "Oh, fuck." He hissed, reveling in the feel of her wrapped around him. This was what he needed, the remedy to his long day. Always her. He stilled for a moment, giving her time to adjust to his size. It was a stretch, and he knew it. "Okay?" he asked softly, his hips flexing forward slightly.

“Uh-huh.” Her eyes were glued to his, wide and glassy as he filled her completely. The sensation of being so full, so stretched, was overwhelming. It never got old. When she got tipsy and slightly loose lipped, it was one of the things she alluded to with her friends- how big he was, how fulfilled he made her. She could feel every thick inch of him inside her, his heavy balls pressing against the plush of her ass. A soft whimper escaped her lips as she adjusted to his size, her walls clenching around him in a desperate attempt to keep him inside. "S’so good.”

He began to move, slow and deep at first, savoring the exquisite drag of her silken walls. "That's it, baby... take it. Take every inch of me." He whispered, his hips rolling in a hypnotic rhythm. One hand slid down to rub tight circles over her clit as he fucked into her. "Gonna fill this sweet cunt. Pump you full of me."

His cock stretched her, a dull, delicious ache as he drove into her again and again, the wet sounds of the thrusts filling the room. He angled his hips, searching for that perfect spot inside her. He always did. He loved to make her go crazy, see her buck and cry out when he got it. They fit together so well, sometimes it was hard to believe they’d found each other naturally. When did find it he heard it, music to his fucking ears. The borderline frantic cry as she grabbed his arms where they held her hips, her back arching off the bed. "Yes, there! Just like that." Her nails dug into his forearms as he hit her spot dead on with each thrust.

His balls slapped against her ass with each deep stroke, the sound echoing through the room. “Yeah, I found my spot. Didn’t I?” He crooned, smirk on his face as he kept it up. If there was anything he allowed himself to be smug about, it was how good he made his woman feel. “S’good, I know. Hitting right where my girl needs. God, you’re fuckin’ perfect. Dressing up for me…” He grit his teeth. “Tellin’ me I can finally give you a baby. You love me, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I do. Shit, Harry.” She cried out, her voice high-pitched as her inner walls tightened around his thick shaft. She could barely think, let alone speak, with him filling her so perfectly. “Y-Yes, I love you so much- Please, please, please, please!” She chanted, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her as he continued to fuck into her sopping cunt. “Please what, baby?” He taunted, looking down at her beautiful form. It was the prettiest picture only he got to see. “What d’you want?”

“I-I want you to-” She gasped as he hit her spot again, her toes curling in ecstasy. “I want you to knock me up, H. Please knock me up, get me pregnant like y’wanted. I don’t care, just wanna feel you inside me, I want my tummy to grow, I want all of it.” She pleaded, tugging him down to her as she felt her eyes water, looking up at him. “Please, baby- please, please.”

His face contorted as he looked down at her, love and possession shining in his eyes. "You're really going t’let me breed you like that, huh? All for me?" He grit out with clenched teeth, his hips snapping forward as his hands gathered her, wrapping around her wrists and pinning them above her head. "Y’want to carry my baby, grow round with it inside you?"

"Yes, yes, yes." She chanted with a lovedrunk smile on her face, her back arching as he took her harder. The new angle had him hitting impossibly deep. "Please Harry, I need it. Need you to fill me up, make me yours. I want everyone to know I'm your girl, carrying your baby." Her voice broke, overwhelmed with pleasure. "Fuck, I'm getting close."

"That's it, cum on my cock like a good girl." He growled, feeling her tighten around him like a vice. "Milk me, I'm gonna pump you full. Gonna flood this fertile little cunt with my cum." His balls drew up tight as he pounded into her relentlessly, the wet squelch of her arousal obscene in the room. "Fuck, m’close too. You want it baby?"

Y/N could barely speak as her orgasm took her faster than she had anticipated. It was his voice, his promise that took her there. The sensation was indescribable. Like being consumed, each hard thrust sending wave after wave of intense heat through her veins. She could feel every ridge and vein of his thick, pulsing length as it slid in and out of her slick hole. Her whole body was alight, every nerve ending on fire as he stretched her to the limit. The pressure built and built, her muscles tensing as the first waves of her release washed over her.

"Please, please... I want to feel you, inside me, filling me up. I want your baby, Harry. I want you to breed me." Her words were barely coherent, her mind fogged with desire as he continued to thrust into her, his powerful hips driving his thick cock home again and again. She could feel the heat of his body, the tautness of his muscles as he held back, intent on pouring into her just as she'd begged. “Wanna be the only one.”

“Shit.” He whined weakly, losing all resolve to hold on. Hearing her beg for it was the final straw on his composure. This was a day he had dreamed of, and she had so willingly handed it over to him. It was his turn to give it to her, just as he promised. “I’ll give it to you baby. Give you everything- only t’you. Fuck.” With a feral groan, he lost all control, slamming into her one final time as he erupted inside her. His hot, thick cum flooded her, painting her insides as he filled her to the brim. She could feel it pouring in, the warmth spreading through her belly as he continued to pump her full, his cock jerking and twitching inside her. “Take all of it.”

Her mouth parted on a silent 'O' as she felt him surge inside her, his warmth spreading through her. Her eyes fluttered closed as he released her hands, and her fingers immediately digging on his back as she found a way to cling to him, her legs wrapping around his waist to hold him closer. She didn’t want him to leave, wanted him to stay buried.

"That's it, baby... take it all." He encouraged softly, nuzzling her neck as he slowly thrust in and out, relishing in the feeling as he pulsed inside of her.

She moaned softly, her head tossing on the pillow. "It feels so warm, so good... S’so much inside of me. I love you so much." She whispered, a fucked out smile painting her lips. "I hope it takes."

Pulling out slowly, his cock glistened with them combined as he held her open, his load leaking out of her. The scene was absolutely filthy and everything he had hoped to see when they tried this. "Look at you... so full of my cum. So fucking perfect." He gently held her thigh open with one hand, his fingers on the other spreading her open to show off his work. "Look at how full you are, baby."

She whimpered, her eyes fluttering open as he displayed her to him. "Harry... It's so much. I can feel it dripping out of me. Don’t waste it." She whispered, her voice tiredly giddy. "We should try for round two... just to be sure, right?"

[deonsx]

Can u do one abt Sae Itoshi being a girl dad?🥹

AYAYYYA when I saw that I had to make this request immediately + Nagi and Rin are with you!

Bllk Boys If they become a girl father

Sae Itoshi

Sae wakes up early in the morning to help his daughter get ready for kindergarten. Normally calm and reserved, Sae doesn’t complain when his daughter insists on putting a “princess crown” on his head while he’s combing her hair. Seeing himself in the mirror wearing a pink crown, he smirks slightly and says:

“Doesn’t this make me too cool?” His daughter, with a serious expression responds “No Papa, it’s just perfect!”

On the way to school, his daughter bombards him with questions like, “What’s your favorite color, Papa?” Sae, instead of his usual short answers, takes a moment to think and says, “Maybe blue… but your favorite colors might be better”

Sweet Details:

Sae’s daughter proudly tells her friends, “My dad is the best football player in the world!” Even though Sae tries to stay composed, her admiration secretly makes him incredibly happy

While teaching his daughter how to play football, she somehow manages to dribble past him and score a goal. Sae quietly mumbles “Must be the genes” but deep down, he feels proud beyond words

His daughter loves drawing pictures for him. One day, Sae takes one of her drawings and puts it in his sports bag. Before an important match, he looks at it for motivation.

At night, Sae softly hums a traditional Japanese lullaby to his daughter as she falls asleep. It’s one of the few moments where his stoic exterior melts into pure warmth and love

Nagi Seishiro

Nagi plans to spend his weekend morning sleeping in, but he wakes up to his daughter poking his cheek with her tiny hands

“Daaaad! Wake up! We need to have breakfast and play!” she says with boundless energy. Nagi groans and mutters “Ugh… five more minutes…”

But when his daughter furrows her brows and sternly replies, “Five minutes? No way, now!” he can’t help but smile. “Alright, alright you win” he says, picking her up and carrying her on his shoulder as they head to the kitchen

Despite Nagi’s lazy tendencies, his daughter’s energy and demands always win him over. Sometimes, he even finds himself unexpectedly having fun while playing with her

Sweet Details:

Nagi’s daughter might be hyperactive, curious, and constantly looking for things to do. Although it clashes with his laid-back personality, Nagi learns to adapt and becomes more active because of her

Nagi’s idea of a “daddy-daughter day” often includes binge-watching cartoons, ordering pizza, and him trying (and failing) to braid her hair. While he’s not the best at hairstyling, he’ll do anything to make her laugh

Nagi easily gets drawn into her imaginative world. Whether it’s pretending to be a king, a monster, or a hero saving her, he goes along with it. Afterward, though, he’ll collapse on the couch and say “That was exhausting…”

His daughter loves to challenge her dad, saying things like “Let’s race! If I win, you have to buy me ice cream!” Nagi reluctantly agrees and usually lets her win. But sometimes, his competitive side sneaks in, and he plays seriously

Despite his lazy nature, Nagi is fiercely protective of his daughter. Just the thought of her getting hurt makes him unexpectedly serious and determined to keep her safe

Rin Itoshi

One evening, Rin comes home from training, exhausted. As he opens the door, he hears a small voice shout

“Daddyyyy!”

His daughter runs up to him with bright eyes and says, “Let’s play soccer Daddy!” Rin looks at her, a bit startled, and replies

“At this hour? You have school tomorrow, young lady.” But when she pouts, he sighs and gives in, saying “Fine, but only for five minutes”

Before he knows it, they’re out in the yard playing. She manages to dribble the ball and score between his legs. As she jumps and cheers, Rin smirks slightly and says,

“I guess we shouldn’t tell your mom we played this late”

Sweet Details:

Rin tries to be the “perfect dad” and takes everything very seriously. He wants to provide the best environment for his daughter. However, whenever she hugs him and says “You’re the best dad ever!” his stern exterior softens

Rin teaches his daughter how to play soccer but never pressures her. Instead, he encourages her to enjoy the game at her own pace. One day, when she pulls off a tricky move, he mutters to himself

“Must be the genes”

Rin is extremely protective of his daughter. If someone bothers her at school or hurts her feelings, Rin steps in immediately—though he tries to handle things calmly and rationally

At night, Rin often tells his daughter bedtime stories about famous soccer players. At the end of every story, she snuggles up to him and says “But you’re the best one Daddy” For Rin, it’s the highlight of his day

Princess not: Rin affectionately calls her “My Little Lion” because she’s just as determined and stubborn as he is

Enjoy!

[aewon]

all night, in love — YJW

pairing- jungwon x fmr genre: fluff, e2l, fake dating ⚠️: kissing, cursing, slight slight very tiny angst (practically nonexistent) wc: 3k

You hate Yang Jungwon, and he hates you too.

The reason? You ACCIDENTALLY tripped him in front of his crush in 9th grade. You never knew someone could hold such a grudge for something that wasn’t on purpose.

Ever since that day, Jungwon has made it his life mission to make you miserable.

He doesn’t do anything physical, he just makes annoying, mean jabs at you whenever he can, which you don’t hesitate to fire back.

What you never expected was for him to come up to you, asking for a favor.

“A favor? Why would I ever want to help you?” You scoff at his audacity, turning away from him on the bench you’re currently occupying.

He doesn’t go away, instead sitting next to you on the other side, facing you.

“Please, I’ll do anything!” When you look at him, he’s pouting, something that’s never been directed toward you.

He almost looks…cute?

“Anything?” You ask, not concealing the smirk gracing your face.

“… As long as it’s nothing super crazy, yes.”

You ponder for a moment, what could you possibly need from Yang Jungwon.

“I’ll help you, but I’m not telling you what you’re doing until after we’re done! So what exactly is it that you need?”

Jungwon suddenly looks away from you, biting his lip as if he’s afraid to say it.

“Well? We don’t have all day.”

He looks down at the ground, twiddling his thumbs before finally speaking, “I need you to date me.”

You almost spit out the sip of coffee you just took.

“What?”

“Look, you know Yoona, right?”

You nod, having met the girl before in science class.

“I have a huge crush on her but she never notices any of my attempts to talk to her or engage so I figured if I’m dating someone, that’ll make her notice. Everyone knows we don’t like each other so it’ll make a huge spectacle.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his rhetoric.

“Everyone knows we don’t like each other, so they’ll definitely believe we just started dating? That makes no sense, Jungwon. Come on, you’re smarter than that.”

“We can say it was all a ruse! We just didn’t want people knowing how much we like each other so we pretended to have a fued instead.”

“Still doesn’t make sense. Our friends and peers aren’t stupid, they’ll see right through us.”

“Not if we’re convincing! We’re talking right now, right? Not arguing. We’ll just tell everyone we decided to come clean. Please do this for me, you know I’d never bother you with something like this otherwise.”

That is true, and although you can’t ever imagine yourself liking someone like Jungwon, it’s fake.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Jungwon, for the first time, gives you a genuine smile. One that’s not devolving into a sneer or fake.

“So, what do we do now?” He asks.

“Do you have any boundaries you don’t want crossed?”

He shakes his head, “I want this to be believable.”

Without warning, you tug him forward by his shirt, planting your lips on his.

You don’t open your eyes to see if he’s shocked or not, but soon you feel his lips moving with yours.

His large hand travels to cup the side of your face.

You don’t know how long you’re kissing for, or rather making out at this point, but you’re interrupted by the bell ringing.

As you pull away, Jungwon looks as if he’s in a daze.

Your eyes look around the courtyard and multiple people are staring at you, looking away quickly when they realize they’ve been caught.

“Bye boyfriend, I’ll see you later.” You wink, getting up from the bench and leaving to go to class.

The end of the school day comes quicker than not, and you wait outside for your friend Ningning so you can drive her home.

A hand comes to rest on your waist, and you turn to find Jungwon standing beside you.

“I figured I’d get your number now so none of our friends suspect us.”

You nod, taking his phone and putting your number in, texting yourself quickly.

You save his number in your own phone as “wonnie ❤️” while he saves yours as “babe 🩷.”

“You drive Ningning to school right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I’ll start driving the both of you, just text me your address and I’ll pick you up first tomorrow.”

“Sounds good, we should also figure out some kind of timeline for this relationship. When do we wanna say this started?”

Jungwon ponders for a moment, “A few months ago? Not too specific but not suspicious either. We could say after a while the dislike toward one another became tired and we decided to be friends which then developed into a relationship.”

“And why did we hide it?”

“Because we were embarrassed.” He shrugs and you nod along.

“Sounds good, we can figure out details later.”

Out in the parking lot, his group of friends are all staring at you. “I should get home,” Jungwon says, “we’re all hanging at my place and I know they’re dying to ask me about us.”

“Call me tonight?”

He nods, wrapping you up in a hug, pulling away to kiss your lips.

You can’t help but like the feeling of his lips on yours, or maybe it’s because you haven’t felt the kiss of someone in so long.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re obsessed with my lips. You like kissing me.” Jungwon smirks at your reddening cheeks.

“Please, it’s just been a while. The feeling is nice is all,” you respond, pushing him lightly.

He raises his hands in surrender before walking away, toward his friends whose eyes are on him like a hawk.

“What the actual fuck is going on!” You hear Ningning from a mile away as she quickly approaches you, “Why the hell did I have to find out from Minji that you and Jungwon are dating?”

“I’ll explain in the car.”

Ningning doesn’t hesitate to ask a million and one questions about your newfound relationship, and you answer to the best of your abilities without making too many plot holes.

You tell her about the new arrangement with Jungwon picking you both up which she agrees to easily.

After dropping her off, you make your way home to relax and de-stress.

You shower before changing into more comfortable clothes.

Your parents won’t be home for a while so you sit on the couch, watching Netflix with an after school snack.

You must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because when you open your eyes, you’re in your room and not on the couch.

You check for your phone, finding it on the nightstand beside you.

The time reads 8:00pm and you sigh. Now you’ll be up all night.

Your phone begins to ring, Jungwon’s name popping up.

“Hello,” you say, grogginess evident in your voice.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, I just woke up. I fell asleep after school, my dad must’ve moved me from the couch to my bed.”

“Okay, good. Did Ningning bombard you with questions? Because my friends did.”

“She absolutely did. I stuck with our plan and tried to avoid any personal questions.”

“Speaking of, I figured we should learn more about each other if we’re gonna make this work.”

You agree and begin asking each other questions.

Favorite color, hobbies, family info, things that a couple should know about one another.

You learn that you and Jungwon actually have a lot in common. You both love action movies, dogs, cats, food of course among other things.

It feels very normal talking to him like this, and not arguing or making jabs at each other.

It feels like you’ve been on the phone forever, checking the time as it reads 10:00pm.

“We’ve been on the phone for 2 hours. It’s crazy how quickly time passes.”

You hum, feeling yourself start to get tired again.

“Are you sleepy?” Jungwon asks, and you hum once more.

“Then we should cut this call here, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The only response Jungwon gets is your quiet breathing on the other end, knowing you’ve fallen asleep.

He smiles on his end, ending the call before going to sleep himself.

The next morning, Jungwon texts you that he’ll be there to pick you up at 7:15, then you’ll swing by Ningning’s.

You get ready quietly, deciding to dress up a bit.

When Jungwon arrives, you get in the passenger's side of his car, wishing him good morning.

“Morning,” he says before kissing your cheek.

You smile, side eyeing him slightly, “You know you don’t have to kiss me when we’re not around others.”

You see his cheeks flush pink, “I know, but I figured it’s better to be as natural as possible.”

“Ah, okay. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just like kissing me,” you say, throwing his words from yesterday back at him.

“Pft!”

You playfully argue all the way to Ningning’s house.

When she gets in the car, she greets you and Jungwon like this is a normal occurrence.

You talk with Ningning the rest of the way to school, with Jungwon chiming in every once in a while.

When you arrive, Ningning leaves first, needing to see a teacher before class.

You and Jungwon get out, and he takes your hand in his larger one while he carries both your bag and his.

“Who knew you were such a sweetheart?” You laugh as he glares at you halfheartedly.

The cafeteria is where students wait for class to start if they’re at school early, so you and Jungwon find a quiet corner to occupy.

His friends come in and make their way to you.

They all greet you, albeit hesitantly as if this is all still one big prank.

You realize you’ve never taken the time to get to know any of them either, just associating them with Jungwon.

They’re actually very funny, making you laugh freely.

When the bell rings, everyone disperses.

Jungwon kisses you goodbye before handing you your bag and making his way to class while you do the same.

In class, you’re just doing self work, but people still talk quietly.

“Hey, Y/N,” a voice says from beside you.

You look up to see Yoona, the girl Jungwon was talking about.

“Hey Yoona, what’s up?” You whisper, trying not to draw any attention.

“I just wanted to ask you… since when have you and Jungwon been dating?”

She’s asking, that must mean she’s at least somewhat interested, right? This could be good for Jungwon.

“A few months. We just didn’t tell anyone cause we were kinda embarrassed.”

“Ah, I see. Good for you.”

You thank her and she goes back to her work while you do the same.

During lunch, which you unfortunately don’t share with Jungwon, you text him about Yoona.

“That’s cool, our plan must be working 😈,” he responds.

You eat with Ningning, gossiping as you always do.

Later on, Ningning texts you to tell you she won’t need a ride home. She has a project to work on with a classmate so they’re going to her house.

That leaves you and Jungwon alone in his car at the end of the day.

“Do you wanna come over?” He asks.

“Sure.”

The drive to his home is quiet, but he stops at the coffee shop to get you both something.

Your large caramel macchiato is delicious and you promise to pay Jungwon back but he dismisses you with a wave of his hand.

“Nothing’s too much for my girl.”

You don’t know why your heart beats so fast when he says that.

Arriving at his home, you leave your backpack in his car. He invites you inside and a white ball of fluff greets you eagerly.

It’s a dog and it sniffs you before jumping on your legs.

“This is Maeum,” Jungwon says, picking up the dog. “He likes meeting new people.”

“Hi Maeum!” You take the dog into your arms and he nuzzles into you immediately.

After he’s been put down, Jungwon takes you to his room.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” He asks, and you agree.

He lets you choose and you pick a recently released action film.

As you lay on his bed, Jungwon puts his arm around you, pulling you close.

The sunlight from outside shines into the room, illuminating it in a beautiful glow.

As Jungwon seems to be entirely grossed in the movie, you take the opportunity to look at him.

His dark hair is fluffy, his bangs laying on his forehead.

His jaw is sharp even as he’s relaxed and his eyes are big and wide, watching the screen intently.

You admire his face, his nose is long and big, something you’ve always found attractive.

His lips are plump and so, so kissable as you already know.

You can’t help it, you take his face into your hand, turning it towards you.

“What?” He asks, staring into your eyes.

You lean forward, connecting your lips with his.

He responds immediately, pressing harder.

You move before you even realize it, swinging your leg over his lap to straddle him.

You’re making out eagerly, running your hands through his hair while his hands travel down your back to eventually rest on your thighs.

His tongue meets yours as it gets hotter inside the room.

You don’t know how long you spend there, your body pressed against his.

By the time you separate, both your lips and his are red and swollen.

Jungwon’s eyes are narrowed as they stare at you.

“What?”

“You must really like me or something,” he says, giggling as you hit his chest before moving to get off him.

“No,” he stops you, “stay here.”

You end up laying on top of him.

It’s quiet and he’s playing with your hair, gently, trying not to disturb you.

Time passes and before you know it, it’s 8:00 pm.

“I have to go home,” you tell Jungwon, who whines in protest.

“Don’t want you to go.”

“I know, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jungwon concedes, and you both get up so he can drive you home.

The drive is quick and he’s bidding you goodbye, not before giving you a kiss.

After doing your night routine, you lay in bed, thoughts full of Jungwon.

It’s only been two days since your plan started but you feel different.

You feel happier, happier than you already were.

Is it because of Jungwon? You feel like the answer is obvious but you’re too afraid to admit it.

The next couple of days follow the same routine. You and Jungwon meet in the morning and hang out after school.

He takes you out for ice cream and coffee, takes you to the local park to have a picnic and more.

This fake relationship starts to feel more and more real everyday.

“Heeseung is hosting a party tomorrow, do you wanna go?” Jungwon asks, watching the tv while you pay attention to your phone.

You look up, “Sure.”

Jungwon hums in acknowledgment, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulders.

You unknowingly lean into his chest.

The next day, Saturday, you do nothing until it’s time to get ready for the party.

You find a pretty dress in your closet, one that’s not too revealing but just enough.

You text Jungwon a picture.

y/n: what do you think :p

wonnie ❤️: you look beautiful 🥰 i’ll be there in 5

In the car, you and Jungwon agree to stick together and send a text if you get separated.

The party is already thriving by the time you arrive.

You and Jungwon hold hands, walking through and greeting people.

You find the other guys in the kitchen, pouring drinks.

They greet you cheerfully, handing you a drink of something. You don’t know what it is, but it tastes good so you don’t complain.

You and Jungwon make your way to the dance floor, where your bodies are pressed against one another tightly.

After some time, you excuse yourself to the bathroom.

“Do you want me to come with you? I’ll stand outside?” Jungwon asks but you shake your head.

“I’ll be fine.”

Heeseung directs you to the bathroom upstairs.

You pass by people on your way there.

The light isn’t on and you knock, no one answers.

Once you deem it safe, you enter.

You lock the door and do your business.

After washing your hands, you make your way back downstairs.

Before you re-enter the living room, you hear two voices that sound familiar.

You choose to ignore it, wanting to find Jungwon.

You search for him for 5 minutes before giving up.

Making your way to the backyard, it’s empty, to your relief.

You sit on the outside table, breathing in the fresh air.

“Hey, I was looking for you,” Jungwon says from behind you.

“I was looking for you too but I got impatient after 5 minutes.” You laugh as he takes a seat beside you.

“Yoona came up to me,” he says.

“Oh? What’d she have to say?”

Jungwon takes a deep breath in, “She confessed to me.”

Oh.

“Oh? That’s…great, no? This is what you wanted. That means we can end this whole thing and—”

“I rejected her,” Jungwon says firmly.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “But the whole plan was to get her to fall for you, I don’t understand?”

“I rejected her because I realized that I really like you. I know it’s only been a couple of days but you’re nothing like I thought you were. We feuded because I was being petty. I never took the time to really get to know you. You’re…amazing, to put it lightly. You’re smart and kind, funny, we have so much in common and at this point I don’t see myself with anyone except you.”

You reel in Jungwon’s confession. Here you thought he was going to break everything off.

“Jungwon, I like you too, a lot.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, “You do?”

“Yeah, I’ve realized how sweet and kind you are. The thought of you being with Yoona made me crazy but I didn’t want to get hurt by rejection.”

“Well you don’t have to worry. You have me, no matter what.”

He kisses you, fiery and passionately.

The next day as you walk hand in hand with Jungwon around town, you think you’ve hit the jackpot.

© AEWON 2024

[glossdebut]

PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ 01

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SERIES SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you.

✧ SERIES TAGS: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fake/pretend relationship (not main couple), rockstar!yoongi, model!reader, guitarist yoongi, singer jungkook, bassist taehyung, drummer jimin, manager namjoon, yoongi & maknae line are in a rock band, reader & seokjin are best friends, yoongi & hoseok are best friends (sope duo ftw), yoongi has a tongue piercing, reader is a brat

✧ CHAPTER WARNINGS: recreational drinking, yoongi is an asshole (see series masterlist for series warnings)

✧ CHAPTER WORDCOUNT: 6.1k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: NEW ERA NEW ERA NEW ERA! whew!!! i’m excited for this one! this is going to be a loooong ride, so buckle up and enjoy! please note the slow burn tag on this one, because i’m not joking around with it. trust me, it’s going to hurt me just as much as it hurts you.

a HUGE thank you to tanni @yooniivrse for continuing to beta read for me <3 your commentary never fails to make me laugh and your edits save my life.

P.S. everything i know about the korean music industry is informed by my years as a kpop fan. i don’t know much about the rock scene there, so expect inaccuracies galore going forward. i do my due diligence where i can, but that can only help so much.

CH. 01: ALL YOU PEOPLE ARE VAMPIRES!

You aren’t entirely sure when you stopped feeling at home in places like this. There has to be some kind of defining event, some kind of indicator of The Before and The After, but every time you try and figure it out you come up short.

In The Before, not all that long ago, you would be scrounging for the bus fare rattling around in your pockets to get to a place like this as soon as you punched out from your shift at the Speedy Mart.

During your short stint in college, your friends didn’t understand your obsession. Music venues, to them, were fun for a weekend’s night out. The thrill of flashing a fake ID, of flirting with the musicians after their set, of getting said musicians to buy them drinks—it was a satisfying rebellion, a fun story to tell people at school and hide from their parents.

But you were there every day, even after classes and graveyard shifts under fluorescent lights, always racing to the nearest show without even changing out of your polo. It was never a rebellion to you. The lights, the thumping bass, the secondhand smoke—it made every nerve ending in your body light up.

You were born in this smoke, as far as you’re concerned.

Maybe it’s different now because it’s work to be here. But what isn’t work, these days? Your life is micromanaged down to the minutiae—the meals you eat, the products you use in your hair, your goddamn piss breaks. There’s no clocking out for you, no gasp of relief that comes after. Such is life for one of Seoul’s many playthings.

Even in the dead of winter, your stylist, Hyerin, has you in a dress that begs to be pulled down every five minutes like clockwork. 

You learned a long time ago to bite your tongue on matters like this. The brands you work for pay you for the exposure you give them, after all. The chill that settles in your bones from the ten steps you take from your paid car to the venue door will be well worth it next time you count the zeroes in your bank account. At least, that’s what Hyerin told you as she pushed you out of the car and into the cold.

Wasteland looks the same as it did the very first night you ever stepped foot inside. Same red, glowing guitar sign above the entrance. Same shitty overpriced drinks. Same sticky floors. It’s nice that some things never change even when you do.

You’ve never been on the balcony, though. You’ve gotta hand it to Jeongguk—he’s really pulling out all the stops. To your knowledge, the balcony is normally reserved for VIPs. Close friends and family of the band, other celebrities, lucky and well-connected fans. Significant others. You suppose you fall under more than one of those categories now.

The crowd gathered on this side of the stage buzzes incessantly around you, waiting for the set to start. The excitement is palpable, and you understand why. It’s the very last show of Burn The Stage’s very first world tour following the release of their third studio album, and they’re ending it here: in Seoul. At Wasteland no less, the venue that housed the show that got them signed in the first place. Of course people are excited.

If you were the same person you were in The Before, you would be, too. 

Instead, as the stage lights go down and the crowd roars around you, you down the rest of your drink and pray it’ll do its job and calm your fidgeting. For a split second, the thought that maybe you shouldn’t be drunk tonight passes through your brain, but it disappears as quickly as it comes. Your hopes of making a good first impression were squandered as soon as Hyerin zipped up your dress. 

Besides, it’s not as if Jeongguk picked you for your shining reputation. More like the opposite.

With a flash of lights and a cacophony of sound, Burn The Stage launches into their first song on the setlist. The crowd roars around you, but you’re not here as a fan, so you try to remember everything Jeongguk taught you in preparation for tonight.

If you weren’t already close, most everything there is to learn about Jeon Jeongguk himself could easily be found with a simple Naver search.

Not only is Jeongguk the lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist of Burn The Stage, but he’s also the de facto face of the band, and he couldn’t be better suited for the job. He’s beautiful. Like, seriously beautiful. Well-built and knows it, sings songs about love and sex and anger with the sweetest voice known to man, covered in tattoos and piercings that eommas everywhere pretend to disapprove of when they’re actually ogling just as much as their daughters. He’s a teenage girl’s wet dream, and with that comes hordes of them using the deductive skills of the NIS to figure out the last time he took a shit. Very little in his life is a secret, whether he likes it or not.

The rest of the band, in turn, gets the luxury of a little bit of mystery.

Park Jimin, the drummer, and Kim Taehyung, the bassist. Jeongguk’s best friends in the world. You’ve met them both in passing before, at industry events here and there, and they both seemed nice enough. 

Jimin has a bit of a reputation for being temperamental, angry, but the way Jeongguk describes him paints him as something gentle. Childhood friends who’ve known each other since scraped knees and runny noses. 

It’s public knowledge that Jimin wanted to be a dancer, before this—that when he was in college, he suffered an injury that ended his dancing career before it even started. One moment he was one of the most promising ballet students in Seoul, and the next he was retired at nineteen. He doesn’t like to talk about it, but every time the band is interviewed the question is inevitably asked. Do you have any regrets? You’ve watched the videos, seen the way he shakes with anger even as he answers with a saccharine smile. You have a feeling getting along with Jimin won’t pose any challenges for you. You know a thing or two about regrets.

Taehyung is a bit harder to figure out, but not in any way that sparks concern. He’s just an interesting guy that way. 

He was the last to join the band, the first to answer a ‘BASS PLAYER NEEDED’ ad posted around the city. Apparently, he was so good that they didn’t feel the need to call anyone else.

He lives in his own world, does his own thing. Posts very artistic photo dumps on his Instagram with concerningly cryptic captions. He’s quiet when he’s around people he doesn’t know, but when he’s put in a room with Jimin and Jeongguk he becomes the loudest person there. He’s kind, caring, always seems to know the right thing to say even if it’s delivered in the strangest manner possible.

Jimin and Taehyung won’t cause any problems for you. Jeongguk assured you that they’d be easy to win over, that as long as Jeongguk likes you, you’re in with them. 

The real wild card is the guitarist. Min Yoongi.

According to Jeongguk, Burn The Stage wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for Yoongi. When the band formed, they were just dumb kids with a shared dream, but Yoongi was the one to set it all in motion. 

When they didn’t have anywhere to practice, Yoongi convinced the ajumma he worked for to let him cram as much equipment as he could fit into a tiny noraebang room. When venues wouldn’t book them without the guarantee that they would draw a crowd, Yoongi burned hundreds of CDs and stood on the streets of Hongdae begging people to listen. When shady entertainment companies started offering them laughable contracts, Yoongi found Namjoon and somehow convinced him to manage them for dirt cheap. When they finally got an offer worth taking, Yoongi made them mull it over for as long as they possibly could. Weigh the pros and cons and decide if it was what they really wanted.

If Jeongguk is the face of the band, Yoongi is the heart. Unfortunately for you, this particular heart is very well-guarded.

Yoongi takes his privacy seriously. He refuses to answer interview questions he deems too personal, he doesn’t use social media. When asked why, his answer is always that he wants the music to speak for him. 

Because that’s another thing: every single song that Burn The Stage has ever released has been penned by Yoongi. To his credit, it’s kind of what they’re known for. His lyrics have a raw honesty to them that’s gotten the band into trouble more than once. 

You finally tune into the show that’s unfolded below you, the words spilling from Jeongguk’s lips loud and clear in your ears now that you’re paying attention.

​​Well, I ain't got no dollar signs in my eyes That might be a surprise but it's true Said, "I'm not like you and I don't want your advice Or your praise or to move in the ways you do and I never will" 'Cause all you people are vampires And all your stories are stale And though you pretend to stand by us I know you're certain we'll fail

It’s rock music. It’s polarizing, controversial, edgy. Biting the hand that feeds them—especially in the eyes of the executives lining the band’s pockets, you’re sure. And yet everyone eats it up. 

Still, Yoongi wouldn’t get away with half of it if he wasn’t attractive, you’re sure of it.

Because he is. Attractive. They all are, and he’s no exception. He checks all of the boxes annoyingly well. The long hair, the signature smirk, the little silver barbell on a tongue that he seems all too happy to flash at a moment’s notice. Too bad he seems like one of those pretentious, tortured artist types that take themselves way too seriously. That’s never done it for you.

Jeongguk is the one singing Yoongi’s words, and he might as well be Korea’s sweetheart—if it weren’t for all the tattoos. He conveys the message of Yoongi’s songs exactly as intended, but he doesn’t have to act like an egotistical gatekeeper to do it.

Maybe it’s a preference on your part. You’ve always had a thing for sweetness.

★ ★ ★

After the concert, you’re ushered off of the balcony by one of the band’s security guards. It’s the same guy who escorted you up when you arrived, and you note to yourself that he’s very polite. Eunwoo, according to his nametag.

It tracks, given Burn The Stage’s reputation for making sure the women at their concerts feel comfortable in the crowd. You’ve heard stories about them stopping mid-song to have handsy men kicked out, and it’s nice to know their commitment extends to the people they employ for themselves.

Eunwoo offers you his hand palm-up as you descend down the balcony stairs, and you take it with a grateful smile. You’re feeling wobbly in these shoes, and the drinks you’ve downed since your arrival aren’t helping matters. Even with the assistance, you still feel like a baby giraffe as you step down, but thanks to Eunwoo, you don’t eat shit.

Eunwoo dutifully guides you backstage, to a grimy, graffitied hallway housing the dressing rooms for Wasteland’s talent of the night. Jeongguk waits outside of one of them, guzzling down a bottle of water as a female staff member dabs sweat off of his forehead with a pristine white towel. She’s only there for a moment before slipping back through the dressing room door. Finally noticing your approach, Jeongguk turns his head and grins at you, and you feel your nerves ebb away instantly. He’s good at that.

As you get closer to Jeongguk, you turn to smile and nod at Eunwoo in thanks. He smiles back politely, wordlessly falling back to give you some privacy.

“Daaaamn, YN-ah,” Jeongguk says, whistling lowly as you reach him. “You’re going to cause a bloodbath in there.” He nods his head towards the dressing room door, and you roll your eyes despite the heat building in your cheeks.

“I know, I know,” you say, smoothing your hands over your dress. “It’s not exactly a meet-the-family outfit, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“Nah, it’s cool. You look hot,” he says, grabbing your hand and making you do a spin, forcing a surprised laugh out of you as you try not to trip over yourself. Jeongguk keeps you steady, though, with a hand on your shoulder. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, although you’re sure your face gives away how terrified you are of what awaits you on the other side of the door. “Maybe you should’ve picked an actress for this, though.”

“I trust you,” he says softly, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s not too late to back out, though. I’ll understand…”

You believe him, of course. Those doe eyes don’t lie, and even so, he’s already told you over and over how bad he feels for asking this of you. But you don’t want to back out. Jeongguk has given you so much since you’ve met—it’s only right to try and repay him for it.

“I want to do this,” you assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand on your shoulder. “I’m just worried I won’t be able to pull it off.”

“You will,” Jeongguk says, smiling down at you warmly. “Don’t sweat it too much, okay? We’ve got this. It’s not like I have to pretend to like you.”

Right. You wish Jeongguk’s words did what they were meant to and instilled some kind of confidence in you, but what they actually do is make your chest ache uncomfortably. Pull yourself together, you think. Now’s not the time.

You smile good-naturedly, hoping Jeongguk doesn’t notice the way it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” you mumble.

“That’s the spirit!” he laughs, sliding the hand on your shoulder around to the other one so his arm is slung around you. You hate the way your heart flutters, despite the fact that you’d prepared for this. Dumb bitch.

Jeongguk cracks the dressing room door open just enough to ensure that all of the men inside are decent, and then he’s guiding you inside, your hands flying down to smooth your dress over again, just in case. 

The dressing room is bustling with more people than you expected, people you recognize from the balcony and staff alike. There’s a fast-paced rock song playing over a bluetooth speaker, almost loud enough to drown out the chatter. 

Everyone seems to be in celebration mode after the last show of the tour. There’s a large sheet cake on a cart in the middle of the room emblazoned with the band members’ faces in frosting, plastic champagne flutes littered around the room in varying states of fullness. Judging by the bottle in his hand and the way staff members wipe at his face fussily, it seems like Taehyung took the liberty of pouring champagne over his head to cool off.

You’re used to having lots of eyes on you—it comes with the job—but something about the way Jeongguk’s bandmates immediately stop what they’re doing and take notice of your presence startles you, puts you on edge.

“Jeonggukie! You missed the cake,” Jimin calls, standing up from where he sat on the couch. He holds out a slice of the sheet cake to Jeongguk, tilting his head at you as he approaches. “Where do I know you from?”

Jeongguk removes his arm from your shoulders to take the plate, snorting at the image of his decapitated cake-head staring up at him. “Hyungs,” he says, grabbing a plastic fork and digging into the slice. “This is YLN YN.”

“Oh, we’ve met before! The model, right?” Taehyung pipes up from where he’s still being wiped down, and you nod politely. “I saw your Innisfree campaign last month. I couldn’t remember whether your skin was really that nice in person.”

You watch as he extricates himself from the staff, ignoring their protests as he walks away from them.

Taehyung gets close to you, close enough to inspect your pores like he clearly intends to, and you fight the urge to instantly recoil. Jeongguk seems too busy stuffing his face with cake to interfere, and you want to make a good first impression. So much for your personal bubble.

“It is,” he says, nodding sagely to himself.

“Th-thank you?” you stammer. Beside you, Jeongguk finally tunes back in.

“Jeez, hyung,” he says around a mouthful of cake. He chews for a moment, swallowing thickly before continuing. “Let her breathe.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung says sheepishly, backing out of your personal space, and you let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, shaking your head.

“It’s fine,” you say, mustering a polite smile. 

You note that despite his initial (albeit subtle) acknowledgement of your existence when you walked in the door, Yoongi now seems entirely disinterested in interacting with you. He hasn’t moved from where he’s planted on the couch, focused intently on strumming his guitar. How he can even hear what he’s playing over the noise is beyond you. It’s not even plugged into an amp. 

You’d be a little annoyed that he hasn’t even bothered to greet you, but you reason that he must be pretty worn out from all of the fanfare surrounding the show tonight. Introvert recognizes introvert. You try not to take it personally.

“Do you know Jeongguk-ah well?” Jimin asks, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes bounce between you and his bandmate. He seems to be putting the pieces together, so you glance at Jeongguk, wordlessly passing the question his way.

Thankfully, Jeongguk seems to get the hint. He tosses his plate in the nearest trash can before sliding over to you again, his arm slipping around your waist easily, betraying nothing.

“Hyungs,” he starts, glancing at you and nodding once. Let the show begin. “YN-ah is actually, um… my girlfriend.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi sit up. That got his attention, it seems. 

A hush falls over the room, even the eyes of the staff members within earshot widening in response to Jeongguk’s announcement. Oh shit, you think. Please let this go well.

“Since when?” Taehyung asks, curiosity piqued. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t seem upset by the new information. At least, not as far as you can tell.

“Well, um,” Jeongguk starts, tonguing nervously at his lip ring. He pulls you closer so you’re practically curled against his chest now, and you silently pray that the way you’re looking at him reads as sweet and not like you’re about to jump out of your skin. “It’s actually been a few months now… Since right before the tour, actually.”

“Right before the tour?” Jimin asks, his brow furrowing in obvious confusion. “So you’ve been doing long distance?”

Jeongguk glances at you, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, it was bad timing on my part,” he says, his eyes fixed on yours. Damn. If he didn’t have such great pipes, you’d say he should’ve gone into acting. He’s male lead material. “I just couldn’t leave without telling her how I felt.”

You wish that you could do or say literally anything useful instead of just clinging to Jeongguk’s side like a barnacle. This is supposed to be a joint effort, but you feel frozen in place, unable to find your voice. It’s a good thing Jeongguk seems to be pulling it off all on his own.

“So cute,” Taehyung coos, bumping his shoulder against Jimin’s conspiratorially. “Our Jeonggukie’s all grown up and in love.”

“He’s always been a romantic,” Jimin joins in, miming at wiping fake tears as if he’s a proud parent. He reaches out and grabs your hands, startling you. “Please take care of him.”

“Hyuuuungs,” Jeongguk whines, tearing his arm away from you to whack Jimin and Taehyung on their heads simultaneously. “You’re going to scare her away!”

“Doubtful,” Yoongi says from where he’s still seated on the couch. Oh, so he does speak. It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice all night. It’s low, raspier in person than in the videos you’ve seen online. His words are directed at Jeongguk, but when you turn your head to look at him you find that his gaze is fixed on you. Your pulse spikes at the discovery. “I don’t think anything could scare her away from you, Guk-ah.”

The words themselves are innocuous, even supportive, but something about the way he says them makes your gut twist. Nobody else seems put off by it, but you can tell something’s not right. You have to say something, to open your mouth and speak. You have to pull this off, for Jeongguk.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, forcing a smile. You manage to tear your gaze away from Yoongi, looking back at Jeongguk. He’s grinning down at you, and it’s real, even if the pretense of it isn’t. Your smile becomes a little less forced in return.

★ ★ ★

Jimin and Taehyung are insistent that you stick around and celebrate for a while, so you do. You end up enjoying yourself, despite the weird moment with Yoongi. 

Jimin and Taehyung are fun to be around, just like Jeongguk said they would be, although conversation between the three of them becomes a little hard for you to follow sometimes. They just talk so fast. 

They ask you questions about your job, your friends, your family. They also tease Jeongguk relentlessly in front of you and seem all too thrilled to find out that you’re their noona. You find it surprising how easily you open up to them, but it just… happens. Just like it did with Jeongguk when you first met.

You relax enough to convince yourself that your perceived pointed nature of Yoongi’s words earlier was all in your head. Surely, he couldn’t have a problem with you when he doesn’t even know you. Jeongguk told you himself that Yoongi’s a quiet guy. Maybe that was his own way of telling you he approves of you. He hasn’t said or done anything since to make you think otherwise. Granted, he hasn’t said or done anything, period.

Once he arrives, you meet Namjoon, Burn The Stage’s manager. Jeongguk told you a little bit about him, but it was mostly just thinly-veiled thirsting. Now you see why.

He clarifies right off the bat that he already knows who you are, which saves you the anxiety of having to go through the whole routine again, and then he apologizes for being late.

“I was talking to reporters. I wanted the guys to be able to celebrate without having to do any interviews,” he explains as he shakes your hand with a dimpled smile. Damn. Yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk one bit.

After a while, the champagne catches up with you and you have to excuse yourself to the bathroom.

The staff member that was dabbing Jeongguk’s sweat earlier—Minji, you learn—directs you out of the dressing room and to the nearest women’s bathroom further down the hallway. 

You try to make it as quick as possible, much tipsier than you thought and all the more unstable in these shoes because of it. After one last check of your hair and makeup in the mirror, you make your exit, focusing down at your feet as you go.

Unfortunately, you run headfirst into someone’s chest in the process. Hands come up to grab your elbows, steadying you before you fall flat on your face. For a second, you think maybe Minji had been waiting to escort you back to the dressing room, but these are not a woman’s hands holding you up. Wait a second, you think. You definitely saw these ring-clad fingers displayed on a huge screen earlier. Strumming at a guitar, perhaps?

In a moment of amazing mental clarity on your part considering the state you’re in, you realize that these are Min Yoongi’s hands, and your head snaps up to look up at him.

“Yoongi-ssi! I’m so sorry!” You quickly right yourself to the best of your ability, pressing your hand to the wall next to you for support.

Once he’s sure you can hold yourself up without his help, Yoongi instantly retracts his hands, crossing his arms over his chest. “I should’ve been looking where I was going,” you add, doing your best to bow in apology without losing your balance again.

Yoongi tilts his head at you as if he’s assessing you, his gaze inscrutable. Man, for a lyricist this guy isn’t big on words. You’re just about to politely say goodbye and head back to the dressing room when he finally speaks.

“I’ve spent the past hour trying to figure out what your angle could possibly be, but I’m coming up short.”

Um. What?

“Huh?” you manage, blinking at Yoongi like he’s suddenly grown a second head.

“It’s not like your career’s in any trouble. Nobody thinks you're Korea’s angel or anything, but your shit reputation hasn’t stopped you from getting brand deals,” Yoongi continues, scoffing to himself. “Are you just bored? Is this what you do to amuse yourself?”

Uh oh. He knows. He knows for sure, and even worse, he thinks that you’re the mastermind.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, forcing your voice to remain level. You don’t even try to defend your reputation. It’s not like he’s wrong. 

“Right,” Yoongi says, leaning in a little closer, like he’s about to tell you a secret. “Well, a word of advice. If you want people to buy that you’re really in love with Jeongguk, you could try to look less like you’re going to throw up when he touches you.”

FUCK. You thought you pulled it off. You thought you pulled it off, and now here’s Jeongguk’s goddamn hero telling you point-blank that you didn’t. You wrack your brain trying to think of anything you could possibly say to defend yourself, to get this guy off your ass, because this cannot be your fault. You’d never forgive yourself.

“I—”

“Or,” Yoongi starts, cutting you off. “You could just cut the bullshit and leave Jeongguk alone.” He pauses, rubbing his chin as if he’s pretending to think about it and then nodding once. “Yeah, let’s go with that one.”

Jesus Christ he’s a piece of work. You feel your fists clench at your sides, your nails digging painfully into your palms. You just got your nails done, and there’s a strong possibility you’ll draw blood, but it’s all you can do not to strangle this asshole right here and leave Burn The Stage without a guitarist.

“Yoongi-ssi,” you say, your words dripping with fake politeness. Fuck this guy, actually. “I don’t know what I’ve done to give you such a bad impression of me, but I assure you that Jeongguk and I are very much in love.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t buy it?” Yoongi asks, voice tinged with impatience. “You may have everyone else in that room fooled, but not me, and if you hurt Jeongguk I can guarantee it won’t end well for you.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” you snap. “Again, I don’t know what the fuck I’ve done to make you think so poorly of me, but I meant what I said in there. I’m not going anywhere.”

You need to remove yourself from this interaction right now before you do something stupid like burst into tears. You take the opportunity to push past Yoongi before he gets a chance to say anything else, making sure to essentially shoulder check him in the process because again, fuck this guy.

You stalk down the hallway, feeling much more sober now. It’s as if all of the alcohol got forcibly drained from your system in the face of total fucking disaster, and you’re honestly thankful for it, because the last thing you need is this asshole seeing you actually fall.

For a moment, you’re fooled into thinking you’d successfully ended the conversation, but of course he needs the last word.

“I know more about you than you think, dollface.”

Dollface? The fuck?

You chance a glance behind you and you immediately regret it. Yoongi leans against the wall where you left him, an amused smirk spread over his face, and the sight immediately fills you with dread, a type of primal panic you haven’t felt in four years flooding your senses.

He doesn’t… He couldn’t know about that. There’s no possible way. Jeongguk doesn’t even know about that. Nobody does, because you’ve done everything in your meager power to keep it that way.

You whip your head back around to face front, your heels clacking on the crusty linoleum beneath them as you continue down the hallway. Don’t look back, you think. He doesn’t know. 

You’re thankful that you brought your bag with you to the bathroom, because you’re very much not in the mood for a party now. Once you’re safely outside, you call your car and send a text to Jeongguk explaining your sudden escape. You felt sick, you tell him. 

It’s not like it’s a lie. 

Yoongi loves being on stage.

Over the past few years, there’s been a noticeable change in his demeanor. He’s become passive, apathetic to the normal day-to-day that comes with being a celebrity. Nothing really wows him anymore.

He remembers the way he reacted to the accommodations the band received when they first got signed. He was way too scared to ask for things at first, but the label gave it all to him anyway.

For instance, Yoongi’s always been particular about his stationery. The first time he filled a notebook after getting signed, he didn’t even think to consider it a company expense. Why would he? He was fully capable of buying his own shit, even if he had to save up for it. Sure, every time he had to write a lyric down on the back of a receipt his eye would twitch, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before.

But the label guys noticed. Before he even had a chance to buy his next batch of notebooks and pens, he was sat down in a spacious meeting room and asked point-blank what he needed. When Yoongi gave them specifics—Leuchtturm 1917 unlined hardcover pocket journals and a fuckton of Uni-Ball Jetstream Premier pens—they didn’t even bat an eye. When he—rightfully—warned them that he might strangle someone if he’s handed a gel pen instead of a ballpoint, they just assured him that wouldn’t happen.

Ever since then, there’s been an endless supply of exactly what he needs, always within reach. He’s still grateful for that, of course, because he goes through those fuckers fast. But it’s just a fact of his life now. It’s not special to get his fucking Leuchtturms anymore, not when he could douse his entire supply with gasoline and burn it on a whim and still have a fresh one in his hand within mere minutes.

And it’s not just journals and pens.

Namjoon is the band’s representative. Yoongi picked him personally long before there was any contract, or even hope for one, and if everything were to go to shit tomorrow, Namjoon would still be there. But after the single from their second album charted on the Billboard Hot 100, a label-equivalent to Namjoon was hired, as if anybody could ever be equivalent to Namjoon. Park Hyunseok. Park Hyunseok, whose sole duty is to buzz around Yoongi and his bandmates like a pesky fly and “make sure they’re happy.” They quite literally want for nothing.

Yoongi remembers when his skin used to buzz with the emotions simmering just under the surface. He was fiery in his youth, pissed off and ready to prove a point. He felt everything strongly, fully.

Not so much these days. Anger is only marketable for so long, or so he’s been told.

For the past year, Yoongi’s felt numb to the world. And he’s dealt with it, of course. That’s what he does. The album did great, the tour sold out, the boys are happy. That’s really all that matters. He just doesn’t know how he’s going to write another fucking album if he’s got nothing to write about anymore.

Still, he loves being on stage. There’s nothing like it. It never gets old, never gets boring. He still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling of stepping onstage and feeling a crowd scream his name, scream his lyrics right back at him. Lyrics to songs that he wrote in his shoebox apartment when he was eighteen and it felt like nobody gave a fuck about him. Funny how things change.

Nobody can take that feeling away from him, even if they’ve taken all the other ones.

It’s been a good night. It feels good to be back in Seoul after being away for months, feels even better to be on this particular stage again. Yoongi always feels keyed up after a good show, itching to do something with all of the energy thrumming through his body, and tonight is no different. He’s almost giddy with the opportunity to celebrate this tour with his bandmates and Namjoon and then go home and crash. Home. Fuck, it’s a good night. He has a hot date with his king size bed.

But then you.

It’s been years since you’ve even been a thought in Yoongi’s brain, and he liked it that way. Unfortunately, it’s apparently true what they say: all good things must come to an end.

Yoongi sees right through you. He's met so many of your type in his life that even if he hadn’t met you before he would’ve been able to sniff you out the second you walked backstage. Users. Social climbers. The bored and braindead looking for their next toy. The exact kind of person he’s been trying to protect Jeongguk from this whole time, and now you’re on his arm. 

And whatever, a hookup is one thing. Yoongi frankly doesn’t give a fuck where Jeongguk decides to stick his dick. The less he knows the better on that front. But a relationship? No, it isn’t real. Yoongi knows that much. Maybe it is for Jeongguk, but not for you. He's never even heard Jeongguk, hopeless romantic extraordinaire, talk about you.

Jeongguk introduces you as his girlfriend, and suddenly it’s like Yoongi’s watching a car crash in slow motion. He prays that he’s not alone, that Jimin and Taehyung have caught on to your piss-poor acting skills—seriously, you look like you’re about to pass out—but it looks like Yoongi’s entirely alone on this one. You have them wrapped around your little finger with minimal effort. He has a feeling that comes as naturally to you as breathing.

Of course, Yoongi has the added displeasure of having met you before, way back when. When you had the chance to be somebody, before you pissed it away, to what? To pout in front of a camera for a living? He thought he’d run out of ways to be wrong about you four years ago, but clearly you just can’t help yourself.

And of course you don’t remember him. Why would you?

Yoongi knows Jeongguk better than anybody. He also knows that thing people say about teenagers is true. If you tell them not to do something, they’ll only want to do it more. Jeongguk may be a grown man now, but he’s stubborn as fuck, and he never grew out of that. If he goes to Jeongguk and flat-out tells him that his girlfriend is a piece of human garbage, Jeongguk will only date her harder.

He tries to control the infection at the source by confronting you directly, but it’s clear the fire that he thought you lacked is, in fact, there, if only to piss Yoongi off.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say.

Okay.

If that’s how you want to play, Yoongi can fucking play. He’s going to make you wish you’d left Jeongguk alone when he gave you the chance.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future fics!

askbox ★ ao3 ★ anonymous feedback box

✧ TAGLIST: @jajabro @pitchblack0309 @sugar-snap @ot72025 @ktownshizzle

@futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @namjoonsbuspass @wobblewobble822

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST ✧ NEXT CHAPTER

[evieelyzabethh]

I love so much how you write ekko and I was thinking a scenario about the parallel universe thing (ep 7)

What if ekko and reader were dating and met thanks to the firelights but then the whole thing with the hexcore happened and got teletrasported in the other universe finding out that he was dating powder instead and he never got to meet reader and maybe he see her in the street of piltover looking different and all

Idk just thinking about how he will react

Ekko knows something is off immediately. Things just feel differently in his chest. Maybe it's being pushed into a parallel universe, but he's convinced that if you were with him, it wouldn't feel so different. It feels like the same soul, but a different body. His hair is different, his clothes are different, who he's with is different. As soon as he looks over and sees that blue hair, he's on guard, even more so when he realizes the change in relationship. He's dating...Powder?

Honestly, that's how he knows he's not where he should be, because he's not with you. And he does feel a bit bad not allowing himself to appreciate what's around him more, but Ekko is very aware with give and take. The Firelights don't exist here, his community never existed, his friends, Scar, everything he poured years of his life into aren't here, but they aren't here because they weren't needed. The people of Zaun can breathe. Vi is dead, but this is the first time since they were children that he's seen Powder. Even better, the first time he's seen her, and she hasn't looked gaunt. Hextech seems to be foreign here, and shimmer doesn't even exist. It's nice, he can admit that, but it's not home.

To him, it's almost like some utopic, drug induced hallucination. His head feels heavy (definitely an after effect of messing with the Arcane), his tongue is dry, his heart is pounding in his chest as he looks around him, convinced that Powder can hear it trying to beat out of his ribcage. Despite it looking pretty, it feels like a bad trip. He stumbles out, leaving Powder to chase after him until he disappears into the now unfamiliar streets. His feet fly in front of him, only barely managing to catch him and propel him further, too dazed to notice the concerned onlookers debating on if they should offer him help.

It's strange being known. No longer known within his found family for what he's created for them, but rather who he's become with his previously dead one. Claggor grew out of his baby fat, Silco and Vander grew closer than before, Mylo grew a god-awful mustache. He's an inventor here. It's almost haunting, the idea that he could've been using his talents for lighthearted fun. The idea that there exists a place that is not in dire need of saving. The fact that there even exists a place where those he's mourned and been changed by, live happily. For a second, he wonders if this is what Jinx felt like, constantly seeing faces despite knowing they weren't there.

He's hyperventilating, back pressed against a harsh brick wall, overstimulated by the way his jacket now seems to constrict him tight and tighter, feeling like a needle is going back through the already pierced flesh of his ear. He could be convinced there are millions of tiny rocks in his shoes as the more he shakes the harder they prick into the soles of his feet. He feels like his very soul is being pricked and prodded at. He feels like he's going insane

But he feels you before he sees you. His breathing slows, the hole in his chest seems to close, his lungs seem to fall back into a rhythm. He breathes you in before he reaches for the hand you have reached out to him. You look different here, like someone who he would never meet in this body, but of course his wandering soul found his way to you. You looked warmer, you fill out your clothes more, you might be a bit taller. Its wonderous what clean air and constant access to food can do for a person.

"Are you okay?" He leaps into your arms, nearly throwing you back and certainly catching you by surprise. Unsure of what to do, you hold the unfamiliar boy, stroking his back awkwardly until he slips from under your arms. He looks familiar but in a surreal way. You can't say for sure if you've seen him physically, but he very well could be the mystery man you see in your dreams sometimes, though much firmer.

"I am now." and you really don't know how to react other than to just smile and nod your head. As he watches you disappear into the crowd, the ground beneath him finally feels solid. If anything, he's more determined than he was before to find his way back home. This place is almost saccharine, too sweet, too bright, too much. It's not his world for a reason; his world wouldn't be complete without you in it.

[dunmesh]

laios and shuro's relationship is so important to me it's not funny anymore... the fact shuro kept believing in laios during the latter part of the manga, then searched for him after laios became a monster and defeated the winged lion- although it was unclear what exactly had become of him- is haunting me because of how it contrasts with him choosing to give up on saving falin after he saw her as a chimera. like, laios was so sure that their fight in chapter 38 was the end of their friendship while in reality it was the beginning of it in shuro's eyes. laios kept agonizing over losing the one friend he cared for the most but it's because he didn't understand the significance of that little thing he kept carrying with him in every step until the very end of the series: the bell.

shuro gave him that bell as a token of his trust in him and his love: "we grew apart and i'm no longer fit for the position by your side, but no matter how far you go, i'll be there for you when you need me". their conflict over how to deal with falin forced them to go in different directions, but despite accepting leaving falin behind, shuro couldn't bring himself to abandon laios as well. and it's no coincidence that the bell shuro gave him was the proof that laios was still alive after all that happened, or that it's what pushed mithrun and kabru to go deeper into the dungeon instead of returning to the surface (which quite literally changed the entire chain of events afterwards).

yes, shuro decided to stop pursuing falin and report her condition to the governor so she could be stopped, even at the cost of her life. he gave up on her. but the same man also defied the canaries and fought for laios without knowing how messed up things had gotten because he chose to believe in laios above all else. and that, in my opinion, solidified just how important laios became to him- more than falin's, more than his own life, it's laios's he didn't give up on.

at the very end, when he met laios again after the latter defeated the winged lion, he gave him a hug filled with the pure, unrestrained joy of seeing his first and best friend on the island alive and well. hell, i mean, it's easy to forget that shuro didn't really have anyone close to him too- and laios might very well be the first person he was this disgustingly direct and truthful with since he was a child. and when he goes back home, there won't be anyone else like laios there; his home is still the same. it's him that changed. and later on when he will recall all those years he spent on the island, he will realize how surprising it is that all the crazy stuff he witnessed don't hold a candle to the impact those few people he befriended there had on him.

of course, laios didn't realize it until then- shuro's reaction was indeed the one that surprised him the most- but at that moment he could absolutely feel how foolish he was to be so sure he will be hated and rejected after everything they went through. it's so important that it was shuro who greeted him so affectionately, after we saw laios brooding over their fight so much: it's shuro's acceptance that he was longing for the most.

with all that being said, the one last thing that drives me crazy is that the bell laios was given to use when he needed assistance most was still with him even after turning back into his human form. that tiny item he was shown to be quite careless with and yet never let go of until he wanted to be completely alone, thinking he should run away from everyone he loved; but it was too late, his friend already heard his cry for help.

and they all answered.

[imaginingbleach]

Forever your protector,

Word Count: 1,176

Requested: No, personally wanted to write angsty fluff using the phrases: My first instinct is to protect you, no matter the cost. && I never realized how much I needed you until you weren't there.

Summary; You distance yourself from Ichigo in hopes your absence will go unnoticed when you're taken to Hueco Mundo... Ichigo's more perceptive than anyone gives him credit for and rescues both you and Orihime.

CW: implied that reader has been stalked by Aizen; kidnapped to Hueco Mundo; tiny confrontation with Uryu; Ichigo worrying; Ichigo is hurt but what else is new

Tears streamed down your face as you ran over to him, the man who had come to your rescue despite everything...

You had known that Sosuke Aizen had planned to kidnap you at some point... It was not a matter of if but when.

You had accepted that fact long before it happened...

You had accepted that when you went to help Ichigo rescue Rukia that he would see you... And you already knew whatever he was planning was not good. As soon as he showed his true colors to everyone... you knew it was only a matter of time before he was going to come and find you.

When you returned to the World of the Living, you had said goodbye to Ichigo and his friends, and had made a silent vow to yourself. You didn't want to drag them into anything, so you would begin to distance yourself from the others.

You saw them less and less, you basically dropped off the face of the Earth... However, unlike Rukia, though, you didn't just suddenly disappear from their memories.

It came as no surprise to you when strange hollow like men came to take you. This was the first time you had met any arrancars, and likely the first time they had come over to the World of the Living. You had accepted that this was going to happen and that there was nothing you could do to fight against it.

Fate had a funny way of reminding you of what you had left behind... Orihime at some point had been brought to Hueco Mundo and that was when you knew Ichigo would come to save her.

How would you be able to explain to him just why you were here? What would he say?

... Would he give you that famous scowl and tell you how stupid you had been for running off on your own?

The thought made you giggle to yourself, but it made your heart ache...

────────────────────────────────────

"The hell do you mean you haven't seen them since we got back?!" Ichigo growled as he gripped onto Uryū's shirt, leering down at him.

"I said they haven't been in class or clubs since we got back from the Soul Society. I don't have their number, so I can't contact them... I would think you would've heard from them, Ichigo."

"I..." His grip loosened as he began to think over the days since their return. He remembered saying goodbye to you... He remembered saying he would see you later... And... Then, what? His thoughts were racing through every face he had seen since then and none of them were yours. Not a single one.

"I gotta go," he spat out, letting go of the other's shirt and running off. He had to see you. How did he manage to let the days go past without noticing?! His jaw clenched, hands balling into fists and speeding up into a sprint towards your home. You were okay... You had to be okay.

The thoughts of you being hurt or dead made his chest ache and only made him go faster. Once he arrived, he quickly searched for the spare key you had. In his haste, he nearly dropped it before managing to get it into the key hole and slam open the door. He called out your name, looking everywhere within your home.

He was just overreacting, right? You would be in your room, curled up with your computer or a book and peek your head up at him... Looking confused why he sounded so frantic... Right? You had to. His hand shook as he reached for the doorknob of your bedroom, twisting it and pushing the door open.

But you weren't there.

His lower lip trembled as he looked around your room. The bed was made and honestly it looked like no one had been in there for... Well, it definitely looked like you hadn't been home much since your return. He gritted his teeth and slammed the side of his fist into the door frame.

"Damnit!"

Unfortunately, he didn't have time to even begin thinking about where you could be or what could have happened to you... The arrancars soon came down and he was thoroughly defeated. Then they came back and took Orihime with them.

As he was preparing to head to Hueco Mundo to rescue Orihime, something hit him. He remembered his conversation with Grimmjow during their last interaction.

"Hah! You're so dense, Kurosaki! All these people and none of you even noticed we've already taken one of your pals!"

His eyes grew wide at the realization, feeling like he was hit with a train.

"He wasn't talking about Orihime! Son of a-"

────────────────────────────────────

"You're such an idiot, Ichigo! You didn't have to do that," you sobbed out as you fell into the sands before him. He had gotten badly hurt during his fights... And naturally you blamed yourself.

"Heh, but I did... My first instinct is to protect you, no matter the cost." He explained, smiling up at you as Orihime began to heal him.

"That's stupid and you know it!" You whined out in protest, feeling a bit better now that he was starting to get healed. "I'm not-"

"Hey, none of that. You are such an important person in my life," he spoke softly and reached up to wipe your tears away. "I never realized how much I needed you until you weren't there..."

"D... Don't say weird stuff like that!" You huffed, cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. Despite that, you never tried to move his hand from your cheek.

"I mean it... It took me way too long, but, I love you."

"Y-... You're just dizzy from blood loss! Stop saying weird things when you're so hurt!" You could feel the steam coming out of your ears, heart racing and trying to turn situation to have less of a focus on yourself.

"Hey! I am not! I've been thinking about this since the day I realized you were gone! It's taken me way too long to realize it, but you know me... I'm not always the best with these sorts of things. I'm just happy I can see you again and tell you how I feel."

Before you had a chance to say anything, he had gently pulled you forward until your lips met with his. It was gentle and sweet and left you absolutely breathless. When he pulled back, forehead resting against yours and his hand still cupping your cheek, you felt a soft sigh leave your lips.

"You're so stupid... and reckless... and I love you too, Ichigo."

"Great, wanna go on a date after we defeat Aizen?"

He stared at you with a confused look for a moment, watching as you just began to laugh at his silliness. His expression soon changed to a soft smile, knowing just how ridiculous he was being. It was the first time in a while he had gotten to see your smile... so he didn't mind you laughing at him.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (xiii) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7 p8 p9 p10 p11 p12

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : halloweekend finds the pair in a tense party environment, putting their declaration of "just friends" to a test.

warnings : fluffy fun, very angsty at times, smutty at times (forgive me if it’s not up to par i haven’t wrote smut in a sec :/), alcohol and weed use mentioned, barely proof-read

mickey speaks : i have too much fun writing lucas and y/n scenes pls save me also i hope u enjoy and had a good halloween luv u all sm

THIS IS PART THIRTEEN, READ THE OTHERS FIRST PLEASE...

THE house is flooding. people are moving in and out constantly; stepping out for a smoke, or leaning over to let out strings of bile-filled saliva, or just leave the crowded event altogether. those who walk past the leaving groups are likely to step over a few drunk, costume-clad bodies (who have decided the floor looks "hella comfy" at that point in their night), and would be met with an undeniable heat radiating from every wall as the electric beats of the rhythm of the night headlines over every speaker.

by the time you arrive (with remi's hands wrapped tightly around your upper arm as if you were both entering a terrifying, haunted house rather than a boozy costume party) the party is at it's peak. a man in a hyper-realistic werewolf costume stood at the door to ask for your names and shamelessly flirt with the two of you before you were let into the large house.

you look to remi with excitement once you're fully engulfed in the home and your faces are both painted by the slow changing, colored lights. just as your mouth opens to speak, a smooth and familiar voice rings out a groan around you both, "good god!" lucas breaks between you two, hanging each of his large arms over the length of both you and remi's shoulders. "you two are lookin' fine as hell," he looks back and forth, eyeing you both with his toothy grin that glimmers extra with the decorative gem on his canine.

remi lets out a laugh, "thank you lucas," she sees the way he's leaning onto you and drawing circles on your shoulder making her smile, "but i will not be participating in any sister-wive shenanigans- so i'll see you," she slips from his hold and begins to walk backwards and silently mouths "i'll be in the kitchen" to you while motioning her hand as if she was drinking something which makes you laugh to yourself and exchange thumbs up's with each other.

lucas sends a flutter of his fingers to remi and when she turns around to navigate through the crowd, he's looking at you again- with your dolled up face and sheer-red glossed lips that he keeps staring at whenever you're speaking or rubbing them together. he hooks his arm to pull you closer as he leans down to speak into your ear through your hair, "how've you been, baby?"

your face gives away his obvious affect on you. you look down and then back up at him, bringing your hand up to play with his fingers on your hot skin, "i've been good. how about you?"

he brings his head close as he listens to you speak, nodding his head at a few people who assumingly recognize him.

"mmm," he unwraps his arm from you as he moves to lean his back against a wall with various faux spiderwebs and skulls stuck to it; still just as crowded by people on either side of him talking loudly or meeting each other's tongues. "love to hear that, you know 'm always feelin' good," he keeps ahold of your hand and smoothly spins you around to face him. he eyes your tight red corset and the way your ass sits in those tiny pink bloomer shorts and has to ask, "so.. what are you? some kind of fairy?"

his face looks so genuinely curious and attractive under the luxurious lighting that you can't help but smile, "i'm cupid! see?" you turn and lift your leg slightly to show off a small decorative bow and arrow attached by a lacy thigh garter.

"have you shot anyone yet?" he grins and his eyes, while puffy and red, remain focused on you.

it's been a while since you've seen lucas and even longer since you've felt the gentle intimacy from a guy you like, so you lean close and wrap your arms around his neck, lifting yourself up slightly to kiss his cheek, "just one."

lucas dramatically groans and leans his head back against the wall, "fuckin' hell," he bites at his bottom lip. when he finally brings himself to make eye contact with you again you're there, so close to him, with that pretty smile and those charming eyes. he jokingly shakes his head back and forth, "jesus." he starts to look around before calling out, "are there any nurses around here?! shit i'll take a sexy doctor at this point- my heart might just give out right now!"

you let out a cackle and look behind you at the few people who have overheard lucas' call for help before looking back to him and shushing him through his attractive laugh and calls of “help me”. he pulls you close enough for your faces to unintentionally meet to share an intoxicating giggle, before you take hold of his thick overall strap and hold his chin, feeling over his soft facial hair. you surprise him when you deliver a taste of you with a kiss to his lips, your voice gentle, "hey shhh ... i can take care of you."

౨ৎ

"what. the. fuck?!" matt says through a stifled laugh, waving through the smokey air to ensure he is seeing correctly.

chris stands with his hips tilted and cherry red lips pouted, dressed head to toe in a little red-riding-hood costume while he leans on a giggly andrea who's his self-proclaimed slutty big-bad-wolf counterpart. she’s got fluffy grey ears on top of her loosely curled hair and heavy dark eyeliner that brings out the hazel in her eyes. her tiny daisy duke shorts, furry boots, and sharp fake canines pull the rest of her costume together perfectly.

nathan's cackle rings as he comes from behind matt to greet his friends, "holy shit, that's too good, which one of you thought of this?!" he points a finger out from his grip on a slim beer bottle.

chris starts to laugh as andrea playfully replies, "who do you think?"

"just wait until nick sees you in this after you told him you wouldn't do drag with him..." matt tsks, still astonished by the sight of his brother in a tiny skirt.

chris twirls and plays with the ends of his frazzled wig as andrea begins to show them the photos she'd taken while they were getting ready. matt looks over to chris, "i really can't deal with how into this you are."

chris' face deadpans and he jokingly jumps at matt with a fist curled, making matt move backwards and almost knock nathan's drink out of his hand, "yeah, that's what i thought! i'll beat your ass!" he pitches his voice up to a hyper-feminine octave.

andrea lifts her hands up as she laughs, "woah? i thought this was a classy party?!"

matt sputters out his own chuckle at chris who is still playing up some sort of reality tv level fight, "oh my god hold me back!" he wraps andrea's arms around his torso while simultaneously throwing his arms in matt's direction, "hold me back babe, i'm about to kill this bitch!"

almost everyone around them has fallen weak from laughter when nick's exclaim cuts through over the loud music and hysterics, "is that christopher?! my brother?!" nick rushes down the stairs and chris immediately pushes through a crowd to go hug him.

"dude, chris is off one tonight! holy shit, i can't stop laughing," nathan wipes his eyes and rests his hand on matt's shoulder.

asha (who just so happened to get caught in chris' tight hug due to nick's hold on her hand) gives chris a soft pat on the back before ducking from between the two drunk idiots' hold and heading to greet her friends. "andrea! hi pretty lady!" the two squeeze each other tight before she moves to hug nate and matt.

"you all look so good! where's y/n?" she asks with a wide grin, the bright colors of her daphne costume enhancing the bronze of her skin in the low lighting.

"don't know." matt says with a shrug and a glance around the party atmosphere. he wish he knew. honestly, he wishes you were at his side, holding onto him right now.

his night out with elijah a few weeks back was only helpful for that night. sure, he had fun with the attention and heat of the moment sex that came with it- but he was left annoyed the next day when he woke up next to a girl incomparable to you. it was embarrassing and an emotionally drunk mistake; he's given himself enough shit for it, so he doesn't feel any need to ever expose that to you, if he's gifted with your openness again. if.

"she got ready at remi's, so i haven't seen her yet," andrea says before she's distracted by her boyfriend stood on a wooden table across the room, "chris! bájate (get off)! get down from there!" she yells in worry while quickly parting from the group.

"god, he’s wild." asha looks from chris dancing on the raised table to the two boys next to her, "well, i'm gonna go get a drink and hopefully find y/n while i'm gone," she spins to leave and surprisingly matt is right next to her, ready to follow suit.

"i'll come with you," he explains and asha pauses in question, "c'mon, just keep walkin'."

the two approach the vile display of a kitchen with cluttered liquors and mixers, sticky residue atop the counters and plenty of bodies using the space as their personal lounge. matt's got his head turning constantly (in hopes to at least spot you from afar and get the chance to admire), as he stands next to asha who's creating a beverage of sorts, "what're y'making?"

"literally have no clue, just puttin' a little malibu with hawaiian punch i'm sure it'll be fine-" she looks over to him, "what the hell are you doing?" she laughs while putting the cap back onto the tall bottle, "whipping your head around like crazy. do you have opps around here, matthew?"

matt rolls his eyes, "no," he sighs and goes to grab another beer from the fridge (after excusing himself to a couple leant against it). he twists the cap and takes a long sip.

"hey! you done with that yet?" a brash and irritating voice yells into the air, causing matt and asha to look over to see the guy with a poorly made vampire costume and his grimy finger pointed at her, "yeah, you!"

"excuse me?! who the fuck are you talking to?" asha immediately defends while gesturing to the bottle dismissively, "yeah i'm done with it you asshole, take it."

though he stays silent, matt's face displays disgust which makes the man just as mad, "the fuck is wrong with your face, cowboy? can't even defend your girl but you wanna have that dumbass look on your face."

matt laughs, the last thing he expected was to be ridiculed and pestered tonight, "can you chill the fuck out? there was no issue until your greedy ass came in here and started cussin' at girls and callin' me a cowboy when i'm clearly indiana jones."

asha tilts her hand as if to say, clearly? well that's debatable, which makes matt kiss his teeth. she ignores him and flashes a smile, mouthing, "okay, let's go" but the guy can't help but rebuttal and continue to shout profanities while the pair head out of the kitchen. so it's only right that matt turn his head to the guy and yell out, "go find some happiness and peace you drunk fuck, no one wants you here!" before he snickers to himself and gulps down more of his beer, wiping his dripping mouth with his exposed forearm.

matt and asha swiftly move through the crowd while laughing and sipping at their drinks until they find a spot big enough for both of them on the makeshift dancefloor. "hey, that drink better be worth literally fighting for." matt yells over the music and points at the solo cup in her hand.

"eh," she shrugs and begins to sway herself with the hypnotic dance-pop music playing loudly. she connects large dips of her hips with movement in her arms and lipsyncing that helps to loosen matt up enough to find some enjoyment in the small buzz of alcohol and pounding musical vibrations. though his playful mood dies when asha almost chokes on her drink (out of excitement) as she taps at matt's shoulder a few quick times. "oh my god! i found y/n! and ... is that ... lucas?" she squints her eyes.

matt doesn't mean to but his entire body reverses to get a view. only it's worse than he could ever imagine in his own creative mind. it's the harsh breaths you're taking and the way your bodies move as one and how he's hugging onto you under these turquoise and orange lights, it feels like matt has just been kicked down onto his knees and beaten over the head bloody. the heat of the people around him who keep bumping into him as he stands and watches you perform, is dizzying. there's constant movement in both time and the crowd, yet matt feels stuck. but that's strictly internal, matt's external remains dangerously calm. calm enough that asha doesn't notice any change, not even the roughness in his throat when he replies to her comment of "i didn't even know they were a thing" with a hushed, "me neither..."

౨ৎ

"wow you look fucking terrible, matt" nick stares with wide eyes, "asha, babe, how did you leave my brother alone for like thirty minutes and he's got the face of death the next time we see him?!" he laughs at his brother slumped in a lonesome outdoor chair.

"s’not on me! i promise he was fine when i left him!" she drunkenly expresses.

matt leans his head to the side, "yeah, make fun of me all you want. i'm not the idiot in a fuckin' blonde wig."

nick dramatically caresses his short, slightly off-centered, wig, "not too much! i am fred fucking jones!” making asha giggle uncontrollably as he adds, “where is the respect for icons around here?!”

matt's finding it difficult to enjoy any part of his night now that he has the sight of lucas practically fucking you in his friend's living room imprinted in his skull. he wishes you could have seen him there, watching. he hopes that your stomach would've dropped and you'd ask him to forgive you as he walked away. he hopes that maybe lucas was bothering you and matt just missed the part where you slapped him and told him to leave you alone. that wasn't his fucking sunny. sunny has more respect for herself. he knows sunshine when he sees it; and sunshine is better than matt. from what he saw, tonight you're just like him. how could you? do you truly see matt as a fucking friend? has all of his bickering about not getting with his friends fallen on deaf ears? or do you just not care enough?

౨ৎ

"so you're the only minion? what are your friends dressed as then?" you ask in reference to his costume as lucas feeds you a potato chip from the large bowl he stole from a dining table.

he has a smile as he looks up at you, sat on top of his lap, "yeah, you could say i went rogue, i guess. i got fired for bein' high on the job." you laugh and he brings another chips to your mouth, "all my boys are dressed like m&ms or batman and shit." lucas is caught by surprise when he sees matt approach the couch. "matt! what's up, man. i haven't seen you in a minute, here sit down." he moves the bowl from the cushion next to him, tapping the seat to invite him closer.

you quietly take a sip from the cold mixed drink in your hand and play with the lacy ruffles on your tiny shorts. you wonder if he’ll actually sit down, just to fuck with you. you truly never know what to expect from matt, you two haven't even been alone together since he'd given you an impromptu tattoo on your back. you know he’s likely come over to degrade you over enjoying any time without him. you don’t think he should be bothered with what you do with anyone else at this point.

he speaks up with a shake of his head and downturned lips, "nah i'm cool. y/n, can i talk to you?" his voice has a deep rasp that forces his east coast roots to sprinkle into his dialect.

"hm?" you finally look over to him. while your eyelids sparkle with loose glitter, his eyelids are heavy and his eyebrows, a confusing kind of angry. his lips are upset with you and his jaw is achingly pissed. your lips are still so soft and plump; matt would hate to think they've been kissed by the man underneath you.

"can we go talk?"

"what's going on? is it about one of our friends?" you're playing clueless in hopes that he'll let you finish enjoying your time not thinking about him tonight. for one fucking night.

he repeats your words in a breathy mock, "what's going on? y/n, please don't do this bullshit with me right now."

"alright no need for all that," lucas breathes out, his eyebrows pinched together.

a smile plays on matt’s face at the audacity of him to speak up as the literal other man here, "lucas, shut the fuck up. this has nothing to do with you, i'm just tryna' talk to my friend right now before i leave this dumbass party."

"wh-?!" lucas' voice gains it's own, contrasting, roughness.

“matt?!” you scold and immediately stand up, turning to lucas with an exhaustive sigh, "just give me a sec, okay?" you squeeze his hand before turning to matt, "come on."

౨ৎ

"this is fucking ridiculous,” he huffs.

"matt, slow down. please," you try to keep up with him physically through the crowd, and emotionally through his words.

he's mostly talking to himself with the way he speaks under his breath, "what the fuck were you thinkin'?"

"i can't hear, what are you saying?" you genuinely ask and try to move closer from behind him, only you accidentally move too harsh and swift, tripping yourself in the process.

he's quick to grab hold of your torso and lift you upright, "be careful, y/n."

"yeah, m’trying, matt." you readjust yourself upright and he takes his warm hands away from your body, reluctantly grabbing your hand instead to pull you the rest of the way through.

౨ৎ

you can finally see him. now that you’re both stood in the first bedroom matt could find upstairs, you're finally able to see him under the controlled, yellowed light of the private room.

you're in the middle of the unfamiliar room, watching him with his back towards you as he shuts the door. he lets out a deep breath as he looks over to you. it's too bad he can't cherish you when you're so damn cute in your tight costume and angel wings.

you curiously admire his appearance as well; he's clad in brown textured pants with a belt and rope connected while his toned chest and arms display his collection of tattoos under the brown vest. his face is attractively looking to you with fake bruises on his cheekbones and corner of his lip. the hat and satchel he wears would normally make you smile and giggle out of appreciation for his commitment to the character, but he's looking at you with such trouble you're feeling the drunken buzz you once had begin to fade.

"hey," your voice is small.

"y/n, what the fuck is going on?" his voice is immediately bitter.

you breathe out a laugh through your nose dismissively, "wow, okay. i'm not doing this right now..." you start to walk around him and towards the door.

"what? don't leave?!" he follows you and you stop.

you look over your shoulder at him, "matt, i'm not letting you yell at me and make me feel bad for enjoying my night out."

"no, i-" he sighs through his nose and comes close as he lowers his voice, "i'm trying to look after you," he gently wraps his arms over your shoulders, connecting his hand with his wrist.

"you're not... you're actually just being selfish, matt." you stand your ground.

"lucas isn't good for you, y/n, i've told you this," he reminds you with his face buried into the space where your shoulder and neck meet.

you groan, "i don't think you understand how fucking frustrating you sound!" you remove his arms and turn yourself around to look into his eyes, because maybe it will help him (and yourself) believe your words, "you wanna talk matt? let's talk. how about this: you and i were never and will never be together."

matt's tongue runs over his teeth and his stomach slightly aches the thought but he takes it on the chin, playing up his cocky personality you unfortunately have grown to favor. he smiles in your face, "i bet that felt good, huh?"

"better than you'd think." you think he can't tell but your eyes are the slightest bit glossier as you speak.

"mm," he nods his head, "right … so now what? you found another sleazed-out pothead to give you dick every now and then? you replacin' me?" he condescendingly laughs at you.

"'m not fucking him, matt. you're being childish." your eyes pinch in animosity.

matt notices your hand remaining on the doorknob, "you're not gonna leave yet though? we still need to talk.."

"about what?" you cross your arms.

matt shrugs with pouted lips, "i mean, i don't know. whatever friends talk about. i haven't seen your pretty ass all night- don't want my impact to be us fussin' at each other."

"you've made a big enough impact already don't you worry." you sarcastically roll your eyes and move to go stretch out on the soft bed, “but fine we can talk, as long as you go get a few drinks for us to share.”

౨ৎ

"you can’t be serious!" he exclaims with a laugh.

"no! m' dead serious-” you adjust yourself to sit up tall on your knees, the bed dipping below you and your strawberry wine cooler in hand, “and you know me, i’m just stood there trying to fight off actual tears while this woman nitpicks my entire cake design in front of a crowd of customers, matt.” you widen your hands to exaggerate your drunken spiel, “a crowd!”

matt continues to laugh at you through his mouthful of slightly bitter beer, he swallows before tugging your arm so that you’re sat once more, “c’mere.”

after you asked that he bring drinks up to you if he expected you to stay and talk with him, matt almost immediately went to the kitchen. he left you to sit alone in the space with your thoughts, which only made you crave a drink strong enough to make you stop thinking of all the bad. you wondered what lucas was doing but that began to make you fell terrible; you sent him a text apologizing for matt’s behavior and telling him you were going home for the night but you’d enjoyed your time with him. he was kind and cool about it which you appreciated.

you accidentally topple into his chest him when you’re pulled down, but matt easily adjusts himself to hold you as if it was a perfect accident. you blink slowly as you look at him and his teeth that show only slightly with his smile.

he can’t help but move his free hand further along your body, he hasn’t held you like this in what feels like forever. “i missed you,” he admits and palms your thigh soothingly.

you just stare at him. you want to believe him so badly but even your intoxicated brain can replay andrea’s words from two nights ago through your head: “and chris told me that … matt’s been sleeping around with a few different girls over the past month and a half …”

it pains you to remember the initial shock you felt, so you take your final sip of your drink and move from his lap, taking his drink he was currently sipping from him and placing both cans on a small table in the room.

“what is it?” matt questions with his costume-clad body stretched over the length of the bed and his head propped up by his hand when you come back over to the bed.

“i know you don’t miss me, matt,” you try to sound as put together as possible, sitting yourself cross-legged and in front of him. you take off his hat to let his hair fall out and into its place, kissing at his temples.

you place the hat behind you as matt leans closer to you, placing a hand on your knee, “you don’t know anything if you think i’m lyin’…” he looks up into your droopy yet seductive eyes.

you smirk at his confidence before you lie down parallel to him, “be honest, i can handle it.” you pry. you wonder if he’d actually tell you, especially when he so obviously wants to get in your pants.

“you want honesty? hmmm…” he reaches for your hand, playing with your smooth and manicured nails, “honestly… i was pissed when i saw you with lucas earlier, i don’t think you should give him your time.” his expression is a bit serious like he truly had kept those words in his drunken mind all night. you don’t give any change in your face, tired of reiterating that you don’t care what matt has to say about your love life anymore. “and well, honestly…” he licks over his bottom lip, “you look cute as fuck as cupid tonight.”

you reluctantly smile, “wow all of that and your nose never grew.”

“i’m an honest man. your turn,” you continues to play with your hand.

“honestly… i think the indiana jones look is doing you favors.” you giggle when he displays a look of shock by your compliment, “don’t act so surprised! ‘m more shocked we haven’t kissed each other yet.” you comment.

matt blinks a few times finding the space between you two has become warmer, “pretty sure kissing is considered a friendly interaction in france,” he pulls you closer before leaning over to hold your face in his palm.

“you made that up,” you giggle and look from his intoxicating blue eyes to his pink lips.

his own laugh slips through his smooth delivery, “yeah i did but-”

you tangle your fingers through his deep brown hair as you pull his face to connect with yours, suddenly too overwhelmed with desire to let matt finish his sentence.

he lets the control stay in your hands, with his weight on top of yours and his tongue only peeking out once your lips wrap around it.

it’s hot and spit heavy collision, with both of you endlessly sucking and holding the other’s lips captive. you’re so clouded that you can’t be bothered to complain that your decorative wings are uncomfortable and poking into you.

matt’s hands reach into the bloomers you wear and pull them down slightly to grip the skin of your full hips and feel the fabric of your tiny pair of underwear. your hands continue to scratch at his scalp and hold his cheeks (at times moving to hold his neck and give tiny pulsing squeezes).

your mind is one tracked and eventually you’re fed up with waiting for matt to push past your underwear and give you what you need. you take it upon yourself to move your hand from his chiseled cheek to the space between you two, trailing down and into your shorts.

matt initially thinks you’ve gone to move into his pants but is pleasantly surprised to pull back and see you using your fingers on yourself. he hums against your ear, “mmm you’re so fucking sexy when you’re touching yourself, sun’.”

you mewl out a soft moan at his words as he lays wet kisses from your ear to your neck, where he licks and nips lightly. you move your fingers from your clit to dip into you, whining out towards the ceiling as you work them.

matt purposely places his crotch against your spread thigh to give you insight into his cravings. what he doesn’t expect is you to tell him, “fuck yourself matt- do it against my thigh,” through several breathy moans. he moves to kiss your lips and flick his tongue against your own again. when he pulls away you whisper, “please? i wanna watch you, matt.”

he punches his eyes closed and you bring your hand from your shorts up to his mouth, smearing your index and middle fingers across his lips until he opens his mouth and sucks your fingers thoroughly, attempting to give out a moan with his mouth full.

his teeth slightly graze your fingers as you pull them from him, your soft voice meeting his ears while his eyes stare admirably, “you got me all wet,” you show your damp fingers before you move them back to play with your sensitive clit.

matt’s head tilts downwards to watch you move your hand beyond the fabric, taking it upon himself to pull your pink bloomers off of you.

he watches your fingers working eagerly under your lace underwear as he unbuckles his belt as quickly as he can. he glances up at your face, with your mouth hung in an open “o” shape and your hair slightly disheveled, and can’t help but pause his undressing to kiss your cheeks harshly, making his way to your mouth for needy and rushed kisses. you remove your hand from your pleasure to finish unzipping matt’s pants and messily pushing his boxers down far enough to free his dick.

matt lets out a relieved groan at the feeling, removing his lips from you to spit on his hand and immediately wrap it around himself to release the tense pressure. matt holds onto you as he moves himself against the fullest part of your inner thigh, so close to your heat that his stomach recoils just thinking about being inside you.

his moans are just as whiney as yours when you begin to hurriedly hump into your own hand. matt’s face is smushed into the side of your face with heavy breaths and body heat adding to the tumultuous pressure in your core. “matt,” you breathe against him, “i can’t hold-”

he brings his hand to your neck, shushing you, “yeah? s’okay…”

you allow his encouragement and strained voice to aid you as you finish with shaking legs and a string of sharp moans into matt’s ear. you attempt to close your legs but matt forces them to remain wide as he adjusts his dick to lie against your soaked panties before rutting his hips pathetically against the covered area.

you whimper at the feeling and your legs jerk softly whenever his head bumps at your tired clit. you wrap your arms around matt’s neck to keep his body close to yours whispering in his ear how sensitive you are and that he needs to be gentle with you to make him moan into your mouth and promise he’ll try.

your tongue plays in his mouth as matt reaches his peak, groaning (embarrassingly loud for someone who did nothing more than jerk himself against you) and continuing his strokes as he cums on your covered cunt.

he removes himself from on top of you after a few breaths, immediately taking off your filthy underwear and exchanging them for your tiny bloomer shorts for you.

you allow him to care for you as you stare at the ceiling, your body’s sweat becoming apparent as you begin to mentally process the fact that you just participated in the one action you promised yourself (and andrea) you would not commit again. you feel weak and embarrassed where you’d normally feel bubbly and excited to get to spend time with matt after having sex.

you want to cry but you also want to yell. you want to tell matt that you wished he cared about you. you wish he would have called you again instead of taking random girls to bed. you wish he would look up from his fucking phone right now and see you pouting and saddened by what’s happened to the two of you.

you get up from your spot on the bed and walk across the room to grab one of the small pink whitney shooters lying on the dresser. as you twist the cap off you wish you were at home, with your kitten and your warm bed. matt watches you throw the shot back, coating your tongue with a sting and leaving your throat warm.

he slowly makes his way to you as you go to open the second shooter. he wraps his arms around your waist, “do you believe i missed you now?” he leans down to ask into the air next to your face.

you breathe out before taking the second shot silently, pinching your face at the awful taste.

“sunny?”

silence.

you finally turn to look at him, your eyes carry such misery that matt’s face changes from one of contentment to one of complete worry. “what’s going on?”

your mouth is downturned and your brain is foggy, “this is ruining me, matt. you’re not good for me.”

matt’s completely offended, “i’m sorry? did i just spend the last hour and a half with someone else?! what are you talking about?”

you look down at the red wood of the dresser you lean on for balance, “this all was a mistake, i can’t believe i let this happen again …”

matt can’t help but let out a laugh in disbelief, “what the fuck is happening?!” he’s concerned at this point.

“i can’t- like, explain. i’m just-” you’re the worst type of drunk at this point; you’re being a confrontational drunk yet you're too fucked up to make any sense out of what you’re trying to say.

matt rubs his head and grabs the final seltzer from next to you, “y/n,” you can hear the snap of the tab as he opens it, “should i take you to ‘drea?”

you crouch slightly and bury your head in your crossed arms, no longer fighting any tears that escape.

“baby, why are you cryin’? come here, hug me.” he taps your sides to get you to stand and let him hold onto you.

you reluctantly wrap your arms around his middle and allow him to caress your head. “i just don’t think we should do this,” you get out through a small sob.

“hey, i’m gonna get you home and then we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

after a few moments and calmed breaths you just shake your head and remove yourself from him, letting his arms trail off of you as you walk away and grab your shoes off of the floor.

you stumble over to the bed to put the small kitten heels back on. matt watches you with his eyes and puts the slim can down before he moves close to you and squats down to be level with your feet, “are you sure you wanna put these back on?”

“i don’t need your help,” you mumble and push his hands away from your shoe.

“sunny.”

“matt, you can go!” you finally let out your frustration through yelling.

“sshhh, stop fighting me, y/n!”

you throw the shoe against the floor harder than you intend, “no! don’t tell me what to do. don’t try to treat me all fucking special i know those other girls might get jealous.”

“here we fucking go,” he sighs, “there’s literally no one else, y/n! i haven’t even talked to other chicks tonight, you’re the one who was all over someone else and i’m over that shit! we’re cool and we’re friends so there’s no fucking reason for you to be mad.”

your mouth is flat and your eyes squinted as you look down at him, “i’m talking about the ones you’ve been seeing over the past few months!”

“why’re you sayin’ shit that’s not even true?!” he’s stands upright, “i can’t deal with this shit.”

“i know it’s true!” your lips pout as you fight off crying again.

“no you don’t, because it’s not!” he walks away and begins to slip on his own boots.

“yes i do! chris told me you fucking idiot!” you point at him, letting tears pour once more. your face is crumpled and your eyes welled with salt.

matt shakes his head silently as he finishes lacing up his boots.

you wipe your eyes and slide your second shoe back on before frustratingly removing the bracelet he’d bought you only a little over a month ago for your birthday. you stand up and grab your broken lopsided angel wings from the bed, walking back over to him.

“you done?” he asks roughly.

“yeah. stay out of my life,” you coldly push the bracelet into his chest and move towards the door.

“don’t worry about it, sweetheart. don’t think we’ll need to be friends anymore!” he yells as the door slams. he looks down at the bracelet and runs his thumb over the inscribed frank ocean lyrics, then glances around at the poor shape of cameron’s guest bedroom.

“fuck!” he shouts into the air above him.

* bonus a/n: i know a party + hookup + fight sesh hates to see them coming😭😭😭. no but in all seriousness i can see the toxicity here, pls this is not normal and i know that! BUT their feelings are very complex towards each other and the idea of being loved which causes shit like this to happen to them. by the end of this story they will not be this toxic i promise growth to come lol!!!!

taglist -★

@deadxrx @saintsturn @honestlybabymiracle @starrysturniolo @st7rnioioss @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @sturnioloa @tcvazq @novasturniolo03 @wovenribbons @watercolorskyy @imsosillygoofylol @wh0resstuff @peachmels @h3arts4harry @imaslutforwhitemen @lovingregulusblack @sturnsintrouble @udonknowmeh12 @mattandchrismakemewett @sturnsorbit @mommykinks4matt @bluebayousblog @jetaimevous @eyelovedher89 @grimholic @graysturns @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @sturniolosreads @almondamaretto @kentahoe @blissfulbellss @streamermattsgf @mattandchrismakemewett @starringthesturniolos @moonykai @envyjust @sirenedeslily

[tojisblade]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐄

— 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

synopsis: after your divorce, you kept quiet and to yourself as you took a break to recover from everything. you ended up meeting fushiguro toji, who ended up asking you out and delivering the 'best possible medicine to heartbreak' as your best friend had recommended. getting fucked with no strings attached.

wc: 2.7k

cw: unprotected sex, fem!reader, pet names (good girl, baby, sweetheart), oral, overstimulation, toji is FERAL, cliffhanger at the end, part two will follow with some angst and more :3

this is not proofread.

likes and reblogs, as well as feedback is very much appreciated!

“you know what?”, your best friend, hana, suddenly said, gulping down the wine she had just sipped. “you really have to get fucked.” 

you choked on your own wine, spluttering in shock as you stared at her. “what the fuck, hana?!”, you giggled, shaking your head. “no, i do not.”

“fuck, yes you do. come on, babe, you’ve separated from your ex-husband weeks ago. it’s time for you to get fucked again, like… just raw, meaningless sex. no strings attached. that’s everything. believe me, that’s the best medicine”, hana giggled, drinking her glass empty and filling it up again, clearly tipsy already. 

“i totally disagree. i’m… okay.” 

“no, baby, you’re not. you’re not and it’s too obvious. you don’t take care of yourself anymore. i’m absolutely worried about you. but i know that this is just temporary and you will get yourself together again. i just worry that you won’t be able to do so without forgetting about the separation. and honestly? the best medicine to get that crap out of your head is by getting fucking drunk and get into it with somebody.” 

you sighed, still shaking your head in disbelief that this conversation actually happened. 

—

the headache you woke up with the next morning was something you were used to from the past few weeks – getting drunk to the point you were throwing up almost every single day. this only started after your husband – well, ex-husband now – asked for separation and divorce, after you had become so distant to him because of your research and work. 

it had been weeks on weeks where you wouldn’t even spare a glance at him, exchanged barely a word with him. of course, he would get sick and tired of this. 

it was too late when you realized your mistake and finally snapped out of it. that day was the same one he had asked for a divorce. 

luckily, it was a quick and easy case – you both had quickly agreed on your assets. you didn’t want anything, just enough of your shared savings that you could afford a new apartment to rent. 

it was yet another lonely evening in a shabby bar in tokyo, you were drinking some lightly alcoholic beverage just because you didn’t want to get totally drunk again. 

“what is a gorgeous woman like you doing in this shabby ass place, sweetheart?”, the bartender asked – a very tall and muscular man, smirking at you. you lean your head to the side, noticing a tiny scar on his lip’s right side.

“what is a handsome man like you working at a shabby bar like this?”, you encountered, chuckling. “can you give me some alcohol-free cocktail? i don’t… want to get drunk tonight.”

“well, coming to a bar in general was the wrong idea then, sweetie.” 

“i’m fully aware”, you laughed, shaking your head. “i just needed to get out of my home for a night.”

“well, no matter what got you here, you’re very welcome and here is your drink.” as you reached for your purse, he shook his head, refusing the pay for the drink. “no, no, this one’s on me, yeah? enjoy, sweetheart.” 

“thanks, uhh... what’s your name?”, you asked, giggling as you sipped the cocktail. “it’s toji. fushiguro toji”, he introduced himself, smirking confidently and you couldn’t help but think about how fucking hot that man was and the words of hana struck back into your head.

maybe she was right. it had been weeks and you were nothing but a total mess, thinking about your past life with your ex-husband every minute of every single day. 

“nice to meet you, toji. i’m y/n”, you introduced yourself with the first genuine smile in weeks on your lips. 

“oh! aren’t you that news reporter? you do those real cool investigations on undiscussed topics, don’t you?!”, he asked, eyes widening. “i didn’t recognize you at first, sorry about that!” 

“ah, no worries. i have been on a break for the past three weeks, so…”, you trailed off. “i.. guess i haven’t really been working on anything much.” 

“ah, we all have those times. want to talk it out? sometimes emptying out your heart to some stranger can help”, toji chuckled as he wiped off some of the glasses, drying them off to place them back on the counter. 

“is that really a thing?”, you retorted, laughing with him. “i never believed in that, to be honest. my best friend suggested i needed to get fucked, like, she described it as ‘raw, meaningless and no-strings-attached sex’. maybe that’s what i really need, huh?” 

perhaps you were already tipsy from your previous alcoholic drink, but didn’t realize it. because sane-you would never have blurted this out to a total stranger. 

even toji seemed to be caught totally off-guard by this. his eyes widened before he chuckled. “i thought you were married?”, he asked then, a little bit shy about knowing that fact. “at least… that is what i remembered from when i looked you up once after i watched some of your reports..” 

“ah, no… well, i was. not anymore. that is why i’m here at this ‘shabby ass bar’”, you laughed, but it was a heartless laugh this time. “we got divorced. that’s why i haven’t been back to reporting yet. we finalized the divorce three weeks ago and then i asked my boss for a month long absence. i’m supposed to be back in a week and i’m still not prepared mentally for coming back.” 

“and that’s okay, sweetheart. you can’t set a specific timeframe to get over something so major happening in your life. how long were you married?” 

“five years. we married young. we were both… 21? something around that. yeah. high school sweethearts, you know? we got together when we were 17, so”, you replied, smiling softly. “we didn’t have much back then, so we only had a small little thing between us both in some tiny venue. just me, him and two of our closest friends. never even got to do a proper ceremony after we build our lives to our likings.”

“see, that’s been what, nine, almost ten years? you almost spent ten years with one person and you expect yourself to forget about that in, what? twenty eight days? come on, that’s impossible.”

“to be fair… i grew so much more distant from him ages ago. i just didn’t want to admit it.”

“and still, the divorce that finalized it all only happened recently. it reminded you of your mistakes during the last moments of your relationship. no matter how long ago you started growing distant to him, the last moments are the most crucial ones.”

“you know, you’re insanely insightful for a bartender in this shabby ass bar”, you giggled, shaking your head. 

“well, you’re surprisingly not the only freshly single person in front of me. though, you’re the most beautiful one of them, sweetheart”, toji mumbled, smiling softly. “and definitely the only one i’ve ever felt so attracted to.” 

that statement made your cheek heat up. you were always told that you were very stunning, but hearing it from someone other than your ex-husband had you slightly embarrassed. 

“thank you”, you mumbled, drinking your beverage to stop yourself from saying something more embarrassing. 

“hey, can i… have your number? i’d love to see you again someday”, toji then blurted out, chuckling softly at his own sudden move. “you’re pretty cool.” 

you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “sure.” 

—

toji and you had your first official date just a week later, the same evening you had your first day back at work after your month-long break. 

“listen, uhm… i don’t mean to burst your bubble or something but me agreeing to this date wasn’t me trying to get your hopes up. i still need my time to adjust being a single woman after years of being with one single person and i hope you understand that”, you said, a sad smile on your lips. “you’re a really great man and all but i’m not ready for a relationship.”

“i know that. don’t worry, sweetcheeks”, he chuckled, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb. “i asked you out because i wanted to get to know you more. mayhaps, one day you’ll sit in front of me and be happy to say yes to being my girlfriend but i know that day won’t be happening anytime soon. and i’m perfectly fine with that.”

you giggled, raising your first glass of wine in a week and a little clinking sound echoed in your ears when his encountered yours. 

the night was filled with laughter and genuine smiles. you were amazed at how much you loved being with toji, not expecting to feel this comfortable with anyone else after the divorce finalized. 

“thank you, toji. for this amazing night”, you hugged him goodbye after he had walked you home, his big arms engulfing your body fully and you felt so comforted in his grasp. 

“of course, sweetcheeks. you’re very welcome”, he mumbled, planting a gentle kiss on your head. “you were amazing tonight, by the way. i mean… on tv.”

“you watched?”, you asked, looking away shyly. 

“of course, i did. i watched you every single night up until your break. you amazed me on screen and then tonight again when you gave me the chance to get to know the real you.”

his gaze was lidded as he glanced down on your lips for a moment and back to your eyes, his one arm wrapped around your waist as his other hand was on your cheek again. “you’re so beautiful, sweetheart. had me glued to my screen every single night as i watched you, listened to you and actually cared about what crap was happening around the world.” 

he was so close that you felt his breath on your lips, your breathing slowly getting shaky and you couldn’t help it anymore – you just had to do it. you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, the tension had you in shivers as you felt his other arm hold you tightly against his massive body. 

after that, everything was happening very fast. he let go of the kiss for a moment, asking you if you were sure about all this and let you get your house’s keys out so that he could lift you up easily, your legs wrapped around his waist, as he carried you towards the bedroom. 

“where is it, sweetheart?”, he asked, the smirk on his lips was so addicting to see that you were distracted for a second. toji playfully smacked your ass as you didn’t reply, getting you out of your trance-like stance. 

“over there”, you pointed at the door, as he carried you over, planting soft and gentle kisses over your neck and collarbones, before you were thrown onto your bed, giggling softly. 

“what a fancy bedroom you got here, sweetcheeks”, toji chuckled, noticing the remote control for the lights in the room. he pressed on the red-colored button, turning on the red lights, making you laugh at the cliché type of mood he was setting. 

“much better, huh?”

this whole thing didn’t feel like a one-night-stand. it felt like a romantic moment between two lovers and you liked this feeling a lot. there were lots of kisses and gentle caressing before toji got too impatient and finally ripped off your lacy panties, lifting your hips with his big hands on your hips and latched his lips against your clit, having you moan out in surprise and pleasure rushing through your body. 

“t-toji!”, you exclaimed, eyes rolling back as he ate you out like his whole life depended on this, like he would die if he didn’t make you cum on his mouth and drink up every last drop. “ah, fuck, so good.”

“taste so fucking good. how could you deprive me of this for an entire week, sweetheart?”, he groaned, he was so far gone with his mind, the only thoughts in his head were about how fucking sweet you tasted and how good he was going to fuck that sweet cunt of yours. 

“fuck, please”, you whined, “don’t tease me.” 

“but sweetheart, it’s so fun to tease you”, he chuckled. before you could say or do anything else, he had buried his head between your thighs once more, distracting you from what you were going to say in the first place. 

it wasn’t long until he had you trembling, crying out his name as nothing but pure pleasure coursed through your body that your hands clutching into his hair. 

“need your cock”, you whined, trying to get his pants off his body, eyes widening as you saw his bulge through the boxers. “o-oh.” 

he chuckled, biting his lip as he slowly and teasingly removed the fabric from his body and you gulped as you saw his size. “like what you see, baby?”, he laughed lightly, slowly kissing his way back up to your face. “don’t worry, i’ll be careful.”

as he aligned his tip with your entrance, he slowly lifted your legs, wrapping them around his waist and finally thrusted his cock inside, your eyes widening at his girth practically splitting you open. he groaned out, face buried against your neck as he praised you for how good you were taking his cock. 

“fuck, baby, you’re taking my cock so good”, he’d grunt out repeatedly, his tip easily hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, having you arch your back so prettily for him and your eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. 

“t-toji”, you cried out, nails digging into his back as you tried to pull his head closer to yours, wanting to kiss him so badly because you needed the distraction from how good he was fucking you. 

“deprived me and yourself from this pleasure for an entire week?”, toji groaned, his eyes were focused on where you both connected, smirking as he noticed a little creamy ring forming around his cock. he was in nothing but pure bliss. “stupid, so fucking stupid, but the wait was so worth it.” 

“yes, fuck, it wa–”

you stopped talking as a sudden and pretty intense rush of pleasure washed through your body, making you forget whatever you were saying as you were clinging at toji once more so tightly he let out a groan. 

“fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come for me, baby. gonna make you feel like you’re in heaven all night long, hm? how does that sound?”

you could only nod, all sense and logic had left your mind, except for the one thing your best friend had said. 

“it’s time for you to get fucked again, like… just raw, meaningless sex. no strings attached. that’s everything. believe me, that’s the best medicine.”

well, fuck, she was totally right. 

— 

toji fucked you all over your place. 

the bed wasn’t enough for someone of his patience and experience – he had expressed his urge to bend you over the counter once you both had been to worn out for another round and decided that you both got too snacky. just as you were eating some light food after all that, you in his shirt, sitting on the counter and him just in his boxers between your legs as he fed you some strawberries, before he leaned down to your ear, whispering what other nasty things he’d love to do to you. 

it wasn’t long until you were bent over the counter, his cock buried back inside as he fucked you like nobody ever had – not that you had ever anything with anyone else except with your ex-husband. 

and this was nothing like the soft, vanilla times you had with him. 

toji fucked hard. he was unrelenting, patient to tease you and most importantly: he switched up things enough but not too much to keep things interesting. 

just as he once again buried his seed deep inside of you and you were about to clean up the mess you had made with your snacking, your door bell ringed. 

your eyes widened – it was the middle of the night, who the hell would come see you at this time of hour? 

“expecting someone?”, toji asked. 

you could only shake your head and reply with a “nope. no one.” 

you quickly went to grab your panties and buttoned up toji’s shirt which was long enough to cover the entirety of your thighs and you finally opened up the door, toji shortly following you. 

“nanami? what the hell are you doing here?”, you asked, as your ex-husband was staring at you and then at toji.

READ PART TWO HERE.

[buckybabesonly]

Take Me Back To The Night We Met

Summary: He promised you forever and a day.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2.4k

Cold dinners, unanswered texts and overwhelming disappointment in your heart.

Just a standard Friday night, really.

You sat on the couch with your knees drawn to your chest, eyes fastened on the clock hanging opposite you. It was taunting you with each tick, tick, tick as you clenched your jaw and willed your phone to light up with a message from him.

You should be used to this by now. It happened so often that it would have surprised you more to actually see Bucky arrive home in time for dinner.

You knew it would be like this when you first got together. But after almost four years, it didn't make the disappointment sting any less. You knew he had bigger things to be doing - he was out saving lives and helping people. Yet a tiny, selfish voice in your mind wished that you could be placed as a priority for once. It felt like you spent half your time nowadays just waiting. Waiting for his call, waiting to spend time with him, waiting for something to give.

When the clock reached 11, you sighed and realized that it was going to be one of those nights where he'd stumble in at three in the morning, exhausted, or maybe not at all.

You packed the dinner you had made into a Tupperware box, pasted a sticky note on top with a message for your boyfriend when he returned. Reheat me for 3 mins! Love you ❤ 

It really was tough. It was one of those nights where you ended up staring at the ceiling of your bedroom in the dark, hot tears seeping silently onto the pillow beneath your head as those unhappy, insecure thoughts reared their head in the usual routine.

It was always this thick silence in the middle of the night that haunted you the most. It allowed you to be truly alone with your thoughts, and you had a lot of them.

You used to be so happy with him. And you still were, in a way. You felt so unbelievably lucky to have Bucky in your life, to be the one that he loved. And yet it was undeniably getting more and more difficult to ignore the problems that came with dating someone who did what he did.

The end to those upsetting thoughts came just as dawn cracked through the Manhattan horizon and you heard those tired, weary footsteps into the apartment, the sound of heavy combat boots being shucked off. Your eyes were closed, but you could visualize the way he silently crept into the room so as not to disturb you. You felt the tension leave your body when he slipped into the sheets beside you, and you instantly curled into his side like a cat.

"Did I wake you?" He asked quietly, his voice hoarse. He still smelt like blood and dirt, but you didn't mind.

"No," you whispered, your fingers grasping fistfuls of his shirt.

The relationship was unconventional and hard work, but you lived for the moments where Bucky came back home to you.

You stood on the snowy sidewalk, staring into the windows of the jewelry store wistfully. Diamond engagement rings stared back at you, glistening in the sunlight, dazzling you with their splendor.

More and more of your friends had been getting to that stage in their lives where they were becoming engaged, getting married, having kids (and some divorces, too). Every other day, it seemed like a new relationship milestone announcement was being made on your Instagram feed.

You were always being grilled by your friends about when Bucky was going to 'pop the question'. Your response was always a demure laugh and a joking retort of, You'll have to ask him!

But honestly, you weren't sure if that was where you were heading anymore.

Your relationship had never been conventional, and you knew what you were getting into when you and Bucky first started your relationship. Bucky didn't have a 9 to 5 job where he could come back home every night and help cook dinner with you and go to bed at the same time, make you breakfast in the morning and walk you to work.

It was never going to be like that.

So what did your future look like?

You trudged home in a slightly downcast mood, paper bags of groceries in your arms as you sighed.

You hadn't seen much of Bucky at all in the last few weeks. He had been out on a mission in Quebec, but he was going to be back tomorrow. A smile suddenly bloomed on your face - he was going to return just in time to celebrate your fourth year anniversary tomorrow.

I wouldn't miss it, my love, he had whispered on the phone to you two nights ago.

There was a new bounce to your step as you continued on to your apartment. You decided that you had to try and stop worrying so much about the future and just be grateful for each day - he was your Bucky, and that was enough.

Bucky was late.

He was supposed to arrive back at the apartment this morning, but he had sent you a couple of text messages at noon, your heart sinking.

Hey - have to stay in Quebec for a couple more hours. But will be heading back very soon.

Your reply was a hopeful, You promise?

Promise.

You remained hopeful even though there had been radio silence since. Bucky had never let you down on celebrating special occasions before - come rain or thunder, you knew he would make it back to you.

Or maybe that's what you used to believe.

You weren't sure what you believed now, as you sat inside the French restaurant opposite an empty chair, your nails tapping the tablecloth anxiously.

You clutched your phone in your hand like a lifeline.

I'm at the restaurant. Are you on your way? You texted him desperately, willing for him to suddenly appear in front of you with a bouquet in his hands and an apology on his lips.

Maybe you just loved torturing yourself. Living on whatever thin strand of hope was thrown your way, like a lifebuoy whilst you struggled to keep your head above the water.

Half an hour passed, the server with a sympathetic gaze coming over after 45 minutes and bringing you a starter and a glass of champagne on the house.

Your cheeks were burning, your chest tightening with such pain that you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

Finally, you called it a night and got into a taxi to take you home. Your feet hurt in your stupid heels and your dress felt too tight and uncomfortable, your heart hurting so much that you thought it might burst.

Surprisingly, you managed to hold the tears in. You held them in all the way up until you reached your front door, stabbing your key four times into the lock before you managed to open it, your hands shaking.

You wanted to slam the door back into it's frame as soon as you were in the safety of your home, and gasped when a gloved hand appeared out of nowhere to block it. You stumbled back, almost falling when Bucky materialized in the doorway, his arms holding you to steady you instantly.

"I'm so sorry." They were the first words out of his mouth as he kicked the door shut behind him, holding you close against his body. "I am so, so sorry."

You were quiet, your head unable to process his being in front of you when you had such crushing disappointment inside you from being stood up on your anniversary. Tears were silently running down your face as Bucky's grip tightened around you, your eyes staring at nothing.

You weren't even listening even though he was speaking endless reasons and explanations for why he was so terribly late, why he had been unable to text you back to let you know he wouldn't be able to make it in time. He was out there as usual, saving other people, being there for other people.

Not you.

"Call me selfish," you began eventually, your voice cracking. You peeled yourself away from Bucky, staring up at him with eyes that made his breath hitch. He could see the pain in them, the utter exhaustion in your gaze. "But I just... I wish I had you all to myself."

Bucky's face fell. He knew how you felt, and it destroyed him to see the way you stared at him now. He could feel how limp you were to his touch, and it suddenly scared him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I know I let you down. There was nothing I could do. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

You almost scoffed at that word. Promise.

"That's the thing, Buck," you said sadly, taking another step back. His arms fell down to his sides. "Your promises don't mean anything."

He looked crestfallen at your statement. His lips parted as if he wanted to argue back, but you continued forcefully.

"How many times have you promised me that we'd be able to go on that trip together? How many times have you promised me that we can do a proper date night? How many times have you promised me that you'd be home for dinner?"

Bucky's lips pressed together in a stiff line. You had been angry at him before, of course you had. But what he noticed right now, overwhelmingly so, was that you were tired.

"I'm so... I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"What do you mean?" Bucky spoke then, fear creeping into his voice at your words.

"Look at me, Bucky," you half-laughed, gesturing at yourself. Your mascara was running down your face, you had kicked your heels off on the floor, you felt so ridiculous in this stupid dress that you had meticulously picked out for your special night with him. "I'm so sick of always being let down. I - I don't know how we can have a future together. I don't want to spend four more years not knowing whether I can expect to see you come home."

"We have a future together," Bucky retorted, his eyebrows furrowing. "I can't see a future where you don't exist."

"Can't you?" You shot back, honestly bewildered. "Do you really imagine us having a normal life together? Can you imagine us being married, having kids, settled down in a home that you're not always running away from?"

"Do you think I enjoy doing what I do?" Bucky asked, a flash of anger entering his tone.

"Actually, yes, I do!" You exclaimed truthfully. "You're hard-wired to fight and protect, Bucky. You need to help people. It's what you do."

Bucky was immediately quiet. You had hit the nail on the head. Fight and protect.

"I've barely seen you this year, Bucky. You've spent so much time out there on missions and saving the world and - and that's great, Bucky. Really, I am so proud of you. But you have to understand that I have things that I want and I'm not sure you can give that to me."

You felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. This was really how you truly felt. The dam had broken, and you had finally told him what you had been thinking.

You loved Bucky with all your heart. You loved him so much that the thought of losing him was excruciating.

But you couldn't run away from reality. You didn't think you could live the rest of your relationship like this.

"Do you think you could change?" You whispered, your eyes welling up again with tears. "Could you give up being a hero and stay by my side instead?"

Bucky's hands were clenched into fists by his sides as he stared at you. You couldn't decipher his expression, and you wished so much you could climb inside his mind and know what he was thinking.

"I love you," he said eventually. Your heart splintered with longing.

"That doesn't answer my question," you said sadly.

There was a long stretch of silence that filled the apartment. Eventually, he spoke.

"I don't know if I can change. I - this is what I do. I have to help people. There are people who need me."

What about me? You wanted to ask.

You nodded once.

"I love you," he repeated again, pleading.

"I love you too," you said, your lower lip trembling. "I love you so much."

Bucky had brought you so much joy. Every stolen second with him, every smile shared, every memory was a blessing. He was everything you had ever dreamed of and somehow even more.

But it wasn't enough.

"I know what I want, Bucky." Your voice was shaking. "Once upon a time, I really thought that we could have that. But the longer I spend in this relationship, the more I realize that those thoughts are futile. I'm chasing something that I will never have."

Bucky wanted to fall onto his knees and beg for you to stay. He really did - he wanted to hold your hands in his and beg you not to leave him. That he didn't know how he could live his days without you.

But he knew what you deserved. You deserved someone reliable, someone you wouldn't have to wait on. In front of his very eyes in this moment, he could see the product of his neglectfulness towards you. He could see the agony in your face, the weight of the disappointment he'd caused in every tear track on your skin. The epiphany hit him like a crushing weight to the chest.

If there was one thing Bucky always wanted to give you, it was happiness. He wanted to make you as happy as your existence in his life brought to him.

Maybe, in a twisted paradox, he would have to let go of his to be able to give you yours.

If Bucky could go back to the night you first met, he would have stared at you from afar, traced your profile with his eyes, admired the gentle curve of your nose and the color of your lips. He would have felt his heart still the moment you turned and met his stare with a shy smile.

But instead of approaching you and introducing himself, he would have forced himself to walk away if he had known the pain he would bring to you.

If you could go back to the night you first met, you wouldn't have believed the love that would grow in your heart for this man. The impossibly potent feeling that was larger than life itself.

You used to believe that your love for one another could overcome anything.

You realized that wasn't true on that very night, when Bucky left your home and you remained standing in the darkness, alone once more.

[respectthepetty]

Joke's (Sad) Face

This post is about Joke's face.

But it's not about his actual face.

It's about his Joker face.

While Joke was surrounded by Jack's blue at the hospital, I just couldn't stop thinking about how pretty War is.

Which is why it's so tragic that his character, Joke, spends so much time being sad.

He has been sad since the very beginning and has remained in this state throughout the series.

Which is probably why he created the red Joker moniker.

A joker is a trickster. A joker is similar to a jester. A joker should be happy.

But Joke is anything but happy and his sadness began when he was child who couldn't cope with academic stress, so he began to use the sad face.

Then a kid he never met fixed his frown and turned it upside down. Jack made him smile.

And years later, at a bar late at night, that kid would make Joke smile again.

By simply sitting with him.

Joke was sad about his life, and Jack told him that it was okay.

Then he told him to smile.

Because like I believe, War Joke is so beautiful when he smiles.

Jack, with his blue (spray bottle), has been wiping Joke's sadness away for years, even without knowing it.

And as Joke returned to his childhood home to all the sticky notes marked with red sad faces, he believed he would never be as happy as he was with Jack again.

The time Joke spends with Jack is the happiest of his life because Jack makes Joke happy, which is why Joke got the smiley face tattoo.

Because Jack was a truly happy kid when they first met, and gave that happiness to Joke.

But things change.

Joke's other tattoo is of a dual smiling face and sad face, and when Joke approached Jack after five years, he said he wanted to bring back the old Jack. After that encounter, Jack asked his grandmother if he had changed to which she responded that he couldn't stay a kid forever.

Jack let Joke escape in the fashion event. Jack was blamed for the necklace being stolen, yet showed up to the hotel to help Joke. Jack put himself in the way during the fight to keep Joke safe. Jack always turns the worst situations around and has sacrificed parts of himself as a result.

So Jack is darker now. He is no longer blue. He is black. He can't be Joke's source of happiness when he is struggling to find the good in life himself, so while Joke is in the hospital surrounded by Jack's blue with family and friends, Jack sits alone wearing a red shirt with one tiny lamp to give him warmth.

Jack has his grandmother, who blends both his and Joke's colors, but she's all Jack has ever had, and now she cares for Joke just as much as she loves Jack.

And this is a point Aran made in the very beginning and Hope repeated this episode — Jack, just like Save, doesn't really much. He doesn't have options. Joke does. Jack had to do what he had to do to survive and keep his grandmother safe, but Joke gets to return home to a family and a room that has been kept spotless. Jack doesn't. Well, not if he doesn't fight for it.

And that's what hurts. Jack has to fight for everything. So even though Joke has done a lot for Jack, Jack has done just as much for Joke. He gave Joke a place to stay, food to eat, friends, family, and happiness when Joke had nothing to give and nowhere to go. Jack himself has nothing, yet still gave Joke everything he has had to fight for, including his limited happiness and even the last bits of his color.

So it's important that the episode showed Joke not only giving Jack his color, but also his happiness. Joke has finally turned his sad face into a happy face, on his own.

Joke is depressed, and for so long, because of that, he believed that he couldn't be a source of happiness. Yet on this journey, he has brought happiness to his friends, grandma, and countless people along the way, so here he is, not only giving his color to Toi Ting and Jack, but also his happiness.

Jack has never wanted to see Joke's sad face, which is why he gave Joke his happiness.

And now that Joke is realizing that he is happiness, hopefully Jack never will.

But they'll have to fight for it first.

[virgo-barbie]

bimbo starter kit ✨💖

it can take a while for a bimbo to feel comfortable with cosmetic procedures, or even just to secure the necessary finances to take the next step in her journey! here are a list of things you can start on right away while you figure out the rest.

1. exercise! a bimbo's body is her best weapon. try to aim for a couple times a week at least. if you don't like running, try pilates, yoga, dance, anything. it's just important that you feel connected to your body in some way.

2. spray tans! for me, this really amps up my sex appeal. my skin has a golden hue that a spray tan really brings out. if i don't have time to go get professionally tanned biweekly, i'll use a tanning mousse instead. it gives a similar effect, but the spray tan is a bit more realistic.

3. manicure and pedicure! what is a bimbo without her claws? i personally love having acrylic nails. i don't have them right now because i can't have acrylics when i go in for my breast augmentation, but i almost always do otherwise. i like barbie pink or long white claws. both are very feminine and look great wrapped around the base of a cock or squeezing a beautiful boobie! having your toes done is also important - nobody wants to suck on and lick mangled feet, and you need to be prepared to be worshipped at any point in time.

4.new clothes! i literally threw everything out and started fresh with a wardrobe of basics. 5 pairs of tiny short shorts, about 20 basic tops in pink, white, and black. I am working my way up towards more exciting statement pieces and building up my shoe and purse collection, but this all takes time. In the meantime, you need clothes that look good on your body and show off your best assets. after my breast augmentation, i will be getting a bunch of new clothes from brands like skims, alo, for love & lemons, etc. for my more bimboish pieces, i kind of just shop around, but i think it's important to have a ton of basic pieces so you can create endless outfits. the mini skirts, fur coats and heels can come later - once you have things to wear them with that make you look super stylish and more importantly... show off your body.

5. get your hair done professionally! most bimbos like to be blonde (myself included) and unless you're already blonde to start with, i see absolutely no reason you should do this at home. save up some money and find a hair stylist in your town who specializes in blonde hair. you won't regret it, and there's nothing bimbo about having crusty, fried hair. if you're not certain if blonde is the best route for you (it probably is), ask a stylist! pink also looks adorable on bimbos with a more cutesy y2k style. a good haircut with some face framing layers can also completely change your whole look.

6. whiten your teeth! invest in a whitening foam and tray, or just use strips. i've had a similar effect with both.

7. get good with fake eyelashes! they elevate any makeup look from fresh to sexy. once you've had lip filler, lip gloss and lipstick will also become your new best friend.

8. silly little accessories! may i suggest a pink lollipop or bubblegum? this will help keep the attention on your perfect little mouth all day and will also give you something cute to distract yourself with while you fantasize about being used out in public.