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#I THINK SO MUCH ABOUT THEM. I HAVE CRIED OVER THEM SEVERAL TIMES. I LOVE THEM SO SO MUCH

dhmis-autism · 6 months

Note

TALK ABOUT DAD DOG DUO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEEE THEYRE MY FAVES

Okaaay I’ll talk about them! I’ll knock out about three or so things about their relationship that I've noticed that I like about it. Because they are my faves also as well. I mean, look at them!

First, and I’ve seen a post on this before (where I have NO IDEA I’ve BEEN LOOKING) so it’s not my original idea but I love pointing it out; how Duck takes care of YG physically.

First one to rush to get the first aid kit in Jobs, careful enough with Warren extraction in Friendship to not hurt YG, and some could argue that swapping his old rusty batteries out the first time in Electricity is a form of first aid. There’s also smaller stuff like how based off the flashback in Death, YG clearly trusts Duck enough with things like this to ask for his help.

Second would be the fact that I think their relationship is fairer than a lot of people think. Lots of people seem to have this idea that Duck is sort of a weird parental/authority figure over YG or that their relationship is just Duck constantly berating this guy who thinks the world of him. I’m going to break down why I think both of those points are untrue, and why I think their relationship is closer to equal.

YG clearly feels comfortable enough around Duck to draw boundaries with him. Example that immediately comes to mind, for me, is when Duck is trying to get the other two to leave with him in Family and Yellow straight up just turns him down. Like, if he doesn’t want to do something or go somewhere with him, he won’t.

Also, weirdly enough, the fight in Friendship solidifies more of them being on a equal playing field to me. Like Duck starts it verbally, but YG both makes it physical and immediately tells Duck not to insult him. Which, IMO, you wouldn’t do to someone you totally idolized/a parental figure. YG barely reacts when his own dad pushes him in Family, so I think if he saw Duck as a parental figure he definitely wouldn’t fight back the way he we see him do in Friendship.

Third I’m going to end with cute things about them that I’ve noticed. Starting with of course! Little moments in Death that are sweet like…

YG holding all of Ducks ties during Big Day

Duck ironing white socks in Big Day when we NEVER see him wear socks. YOU KNOW WHO DOES WEAR WHITE SOCKS THOUGH

YG sitting on Ducks bed while he mourns him

The flashback during Memories where Duck yells at him to GET OFF implying that Yellow makes himself comfy in Ducks bed often enough to make Duck annoyed

Their shared interest in music :]

The way they both bob their heads agreeingly in Transport when Red Guy is cycling through driving instruction tapes, implying they both understand the lessons LOL

Of course I have to bring up the (you have diabetes/ maybe your blood sugar is low, let me get you a snack thing) which makes me cry a lil bit. Both because of what it implies about them offscreen AND because as I’ve established in a previous post, when his batteries are Charged, YG’s memory is NOTABLY horrible. And despite that … somehow the diabetes thing was important enough for him to remember <:3

Anyways fav fav fav duo I LOVE them with all my heart. ❤❤❤❤❤

#MY DHMIS POSTINGS #dhmis #dhmis duck #dhmis yellow guy #I THINK SO MUCH ABOUT THEM. I HAVE CRIED OVER THEM SEVERAL TIMES. I LOVE THEM SO SO MUCH #i made. an animation in like 2 days dedicated to their friendship back in nov. made it just for myself to keep i just watch it on loop just #for me. made it jus for me.#anyways I NEED THOSE PLUSHEIES

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vivwritesfics · 1 month

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Quidditch Thighs

Lando and Max have big ol thighs from Quidditch. Charles and reader show them just how much they love them

Warnings: Smut, foursome, thigh riding

This was requested by @norrisleclercf1 and it's just been sitting here in my drafts for the longest bloody time, i legit can't believe it's taken me this long nat i'm so sorry i've been thinking about this fic daily

She loved to watch her boys playing quidditch. Especially in the summer, where she could sit outside on the grass and watch Lando and Max.

They always trained together. Whether the rest of the Slytherin team were with them or not, they always trained together. Charles, too, joined in, but that was a rarity. They had classes at different times, meaning the time they got to spend together was rare. Rare, but treasured.

She read on the grass as she watched them. It was quiet, with the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs still in classes. At the bottom of every page she looked up and watched as they raced each other to the snitch.

From her position on the grass she couldn't see the smiles on their faces as they chased each other. At one point the stitch was long forgotten and they just chased each other .

While she was reading, several of her fellow Ravenclaws came and sat by her. "We get why you sit here now," One of them said, wearing a smirk.

"Huh?" She asked as she looked up, slipping her bookmark between her pages. "What do you mean?"

"Well," another one began as she leaned back, propped up by her palms. "Look at their thighs. I wouldn't mind taking a seat there."

She was incredibly embarrassed as she looked between them. "W-what the hell, guys?" She cried, holding her book to her chest. "You know I'm dating both of them, right? Like, you're literally thirsting over my boyfriends in front of me."

"At least we haven't said anything about Charles," said the third. "Even though he is so hot."

Suddenly she was incredibly uncomfortable. Her grip on her book tightened and she looked at the Quidditch pitch. But even that felt wrong, especially with all of the things the other Ravenclaws had said.

She stop responding to them and they quickly stood up and walked off, clearly bored.

Eventually, Charles came and sat beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he kissed the top of her head. "Hey, chérie," he said quietly as she leaned against him.

Her response was mumbled. "What's up?" He asked softly, kindly. That's how Charles always was with her. Sweet and kind and so loving.

So, she told him what the other Ravenclaws had said to her, how it made her feel. Charles listened, nodded along and kissed her head again.

"Want me to go, uh, have a word with them?" He offered and she shook her head. No, that would have only made things worse. Charles knew that, but he still offered, making her feel loved. "They are right, though," he said. "They have no right to say it to you about our boyfriends, but they do have really nice thighs. Really sexy thighs."

"Charlie, I know!" She cried, gently hitting his chest. "I know, but they our boyfriends. They can't say that about our boyfriends." The last part was said quietly, muttered as Charles pulled her into his chest.

He laughed and she smacked his shoulder. "Okay, okay. How about we go down to the dungeon and show them just how much we love those thighs?"

She thought about it. They had the password to get in (Max wrote it in the back of Charles's notebook every time it changed, and it would be a welcome surprise for their tired boys.

Slowly, she nodded, but it soon picked up speed. "Yeah, okay. Let do it, let go. Now, c'mon, lets go," she said in quick succession and pulled Charles to his feet.

It wasn't clear whether Max and Lando could see them go. They (being her and Charles) weren't to know that the boys stopped their quidditch practice the moment they saw their partners had gone.

Max and Lando didn't know why they didn't expect it, why they didn't expect to find their partners on their beds in the Slytherin common room. "Shit," Lando hissed as he watched them, tangled together, lips locked. "Did you guys want for us?"

She pulled away from Charles, his leg between her own. "We tried," she whispered and buried her face against Charles's neck.

Lando stripped himself out of his quidditch robes. He climbed onto the bed with them, gently pulling the two of them away, attaching his lips to Charles.

Max gently pulled her over to him. He sat her on his lap and stroked his thumb over her cheek. "You look so pretty," he whispered and kissed her. And, as he kissed her, his hands on her hips, gently moving her on his thigh.

Whines left her lips as Max moved her. He pulled away to kiss down her neck, his grip on her tightening. Where he moved her gently against his thigh, she sped up, gripping his shoulders. "Max," she whispered, eyes shutting as she rested her forehead against his chest.

Suddenly, a hand was holding her own. She raised her head, looked at Charles and Lando toyed with him. "What is it, Schat?" Max whispered against her neck.

She simply whined, and he had barely touched her.

The friction was getting to be too much and too little all at the same time. She let out a cry and tried to pull away from Max's thigh, but he held her there, held her still. "What do you need?" Lando asked as he looked away from Charles.

Breathlessly, she looked at Lando and Charles over Max's shoulder. "Touch me," she squeaked, breathlessly. "Please.

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mrsmikaelsxn · 1 year

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Pretty Girl

masterlist

pairing: draco malfoy x female reader

warnings: draco in love, fluff, some jealousy, soft draco, flirting, making out

summary: although you're a hufflepuff, draco can't seem to suppress his feelings for you and has been asking you out since third year

a/n: i don't think i'll ever get out of my draco phase atp, its been years

song: yellow - coldplay

You were walking through the castle halls with your best friend, Cedric Diggory, wearing a blue sundress with your hair down and a ribbon holding two stands behind your head.

There were no classes today, so you decided to put on some light makeup as well and were taking a walk to the kitchens with Cedric.

"One day in the summer you need come over to my cottage, I can teach you how to bake," you announce, looking up at him as he drapes his arm around your shoulders.

"Hmm, I don't know if that would end well," he paused as he glanced down at you. "The last time you tried to bake with the house elves, you set the kitchen on fire," he laughs as he recalls you begging the house elves not to tell anyone.

"Okay that's not fair and you know it. You helped-"

"Y/n!"

You and Cedric turn around to see a smiling Draco Malfoy walking towards you both. His smile turns into a scowl as he sees Cedric's arm around you.

He quickly covers the jealousy with a charming smile as he looks back at your eyes that he adores.

"What now, Malfoy," Cedric sighs, already knowing what was going to happen.

Draco Malfoy was seen as rude to most people. So it was quite a shock to everyone when he asked you, a half-blood hufflepuff, out to hogsmeade for the first time in third year. You politely declined his offer because of some past encounters with him.

Although he has never said anything offensive to you, he has to your friends.

Your rejection didn't stop Draco from asking again. If anything, it made him want you more.

Ever since then, he has asked you out almost every week. Each time you rejected him, but it still didn't stop him.

Two years later he found himself in love with you. He has tried to get over you, but he can't picture himself with anyone that isn't you. If you were to ask him what he loved most about you, it would take more than a day to list everything. He grew up without much love, except from his mother, so it was a rather odd feeling when he first started to fancy you.

The first time he had gotten some hope for the two of you was when you had agreed to go to the yule ball with him last year. He thanked Merlin and almost cried of happiness. It was most definitely the best night of his life. You two had ended up almost kissed but were interrupted by Snape.

Back to present time, he asked if he could speak to you in private. Cedric looked over at you to make sure it was okay, you nodded and told him you would join him in a few minutes.

Draco gently grabbed your hand and pulled you into an empty classroom.

“You look so beautiful, darling” he compliments as you feel yourself lightly blushing as you avoids his eyes.

You should be use to the compliments by now since he gives them several times a day, but that doesn’t stop your cheeks from turning a light pink shade each time. He finds it adorable and hopes to be the only one to have the affect on you.

“Thank you, what is it you wanted to talk about?”

“Look, you know how much I fancy you- the whole bloody school knows. I- I just want you to give me one chance, love. If you truly don’t feel the same way about me than I’ll accept that,” he starts, his voice growing quieter as he leans towards your face.

“Please, sweetheart,” he whispers, his eyes dropping to your beautiful rosy lips as you gently pull the bottom one in between your teeth in thought.

“Um... okay,” you whisper with a small nod and smile.

He froze, before the biggest smile makes its way to his face. His lips brush against yours as he asks if it’s okay for him to kiss you.

You respond by gently pressing your warm lips to his slightly cold ones. He warps his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him as the other hand is holding your cheek. You run your hands through his hair and gently tug, getting a light groan from him.

You slowly pull back as you look at him in awe. His hair messy, his tie loose around his neck, his cheeks tinted red, his stunning eyes bright, and his lips slightly swollen.

“You are very pretty, you know,” you blurt out, turning your head in slight embarrassment.

He gently grabs your face and tilts your head so you’re looking at him. “Thats all you, angel. My pretty girl,” he whispers to you.

You peck his lips before slowly kissing down his jaw, trailing your mouth down his neck. Your gentle butterfly kisses and your teeth grazing his skin get some more low groans from him.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, love, if you keep doing that, you’re not going to be leaving this room anytime soon,” he grins.

You trail your lips back up to his, giving a quick peck before taking two steps back. “You��re right, I have forgotten about how I was supposed to go back to Cedric, do I look okay?”

“You look perfect as always, darling,” he replies while watching you straighten your hair with your hands.

“I don’t know you what you see in Diggory anyways”

“Oh knock it off,” you laugh hitting his shoulder as you start walking to the door.

“I’ll see you at dinner, yeah?”

“Mhm, bye Draco,” you smile at the boy, giving him one last look over.

As Draco enters the common room, he finds his best friend, Blaise Zabini, doing some potions work on the couch.

He walks over and drops onto the couch next to him. Blaise glances up, back at his paper, and then whips his head to the boy when he takes in his state.

"I- what have you been doing"

"You'll never guess, mate," Draco sighs dreamily recalling your kiss.

"Does it happen to do with a certain cute hufflepuff that you happen to be obsessed with?"

"Maybe, and I am not obsessed with her"

"And I enjoy doing potions homework"

"You told me you did," Draco lies.

"No I didn't"

"Yes, you did"

"No, I didn't"

"Yes, you did"

"No, I didn't!"

"No, you didn't"

"Yes, I did!"

"Aha!" Draco grins in victory.

Blaise rolls his eyes, "did you two kiss?"

"Maybe we did, maybe we didn't," Draco shrugs.

"Good for you, it took long enough"

A few months later, you and Draco were a happy couple and were so close to one another. Since that day you first kissed, he somehow found a way to be with you almost all of the time.

You two were sitting on the grass outside, you both sneaked out, and Draco was showing you the constellation that he was named after.

He suddenly turned and tickled your stomach as you fell backwards laughing.

"D- Draco! St- op, I c- an't breathe! L- let me go-" You laugh as he gives you a few seconds to take some breaths.

"Never, sweetheart," he says rolling on top of you.

"Get off of me you oaf!" You giggle trying to push him off of you.

"Let me think about that, hmm... how about no," he says pecking your lips.

You then flip the both of you so you were now straddling him as your hair surrounding your faces. You lean down and kiss him softly. Pulling back slowly, his lips follow you and you lightly laugh. You look at him with such love and wonder how you got so lucky.

Draco happens to be thinking the same thing as he kisses to again and rests his forehead on yours.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you more," you whisper back.

"Not possible, love"

#nina writes 🤭💗#draco malfoy #draco one shot #draco x reader #draco x you #draco fluff #soft draco #harry potter #blaise zabini #hufflepuff #slytherin #slytherpuff #draco x hufflepuff!reader #hogwarts #harry potter oneshot #harry potter fanfic #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter imagine #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

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fizzie-frog · 11 days

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You know, the Stolitz scene was a trainwreck as a whole (they usually are), but what honestly got me most was the way Blitz started pleading when he thought his livelihood was going to be taken away.

THIS IS NOT A STOLAS SLANDER POST. I'm coming from a place where I've seen Blitz being mostly, if not entirely blamed for their lack of communication most of the time.

Moving on...

People keep going like "Well if imps are so low in the hierarchy..." - Let's take a break to think. Blitz isn't rich, he's just getting by really. And how is he getting by?

By prostituting himself. To the upper class.

That's what it is, he's a certified whxre. Things may have evolved in the meantime, but that's how it started. Blitz got asked for the deal while being chased by a crazy lady and him, wanting to keep his business and livelihood, said yes, obviously.

Now Stolas was suddenly taking the book back with no apparent explanation (until they got to the crystal), so of course Blitz thought he was doomed. On a side note, why couldn't Stolas say "You won't need the book, I have an alternative" instead of the ominous "I'll need the book back, permanently. I have made up my mind." I would be scared out of my mind.

He teared up immediately and started pleading, you could already see what was going through his head. He won't have the means to support his business anymore, to pay his employees, to afford a home, he'll be homeless and have no means to take care of Loona. Everyone will leave him again and he will starve on the streets all alone.

He'd do anything to be able to live a life a bit better than miserable, of course he would.

And this brings me to Stolas's treatment of Blitz. I see that everything tends to fall on Blitz, and I'm not saying he has no fault (in fact I didn't even like him at the beginning of the series too much), but Stolas treated him like a peasant. Just the episode before Ozzie's he's called him his "impish little plaything" and asked for a reward for the rescue. He put out cigarettes on his horns, he ignored his "stop" most times, he addressed him in this little baby voice with babying diminutives. "Itty bitty" imp.

And I am sure Stolas is socially clueless. He was brought up alone and sheltered, taught to be a prince first and foremost.

Stolas probably saw this as playful banter, as something that is inoffensive, silly. It was only in the Ozzie's episode that he finally saw that actually, his silly play served to make Blitz feel smaller.

And of course in this scenario, Blitz would see this coming out of the nether. He reacted quite badly, but why would this prince be actually in love with him? As he said, he needed to have a minute (or several) to think about everything. They needed to talk this out, and Blitz was about to apologize when Stolas cast him out.

They were both emotionally charged. They fucked up. But I can see Blitz's side. And the power imbalance is so evident, that hierarchy that everyone keeps saying is irrelevant - in a moment's notice, he could have his life swept from underneath him. Just like he thought it happened in that split moment; it worried him so much that he cried and pleaded (and that's not in Blitz's character to do).

And then he was so scared of not being enough too, ugh, his little "I can always do better!". He's so used to everyone just seeing him as a lost cause, better to be discarded. With this amalgamation of things, no wonder he can't believe Stolas would have feelings for him.

So uh, I don't know what the conclusion to this is. Normalize getting imps some actual comfort? So far the only really privileged imp in Helluva Boss is Fizz after getting rid of Mammon. And when I say priviledged, I'm referring to wealth and upper class, not taking into account personal issues such as disability and so forth.

Anyway, this was my two cents on Stolitz. I honestly haven't thought too much on them, I'm riding on the Fizzarolli high. I'm chill over here in my Fizzmodeus bubble, but doesn't mean I have no thoughts on Stolitz.

#Blitzo #Stolas #Stolitz #Helluva Boss #Helluva Boss full moon #full moon #the certified trainwreck of Helluva Boss #I'm so chill in the house of Asmodeus

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penkura · 1 month

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OP Men Holding Their Firstborn for the First Time

Note: This is in relation to my post of headcanons for these five men and their children. I just started thinking of which ones of them will cry, who will freak out over holding a tiny baby, who may reject the thought at first. And it came to this lol. I think the next one in this series will be names for the kids or babies taking their first steps! The baby fever is strong help. For now, please enjoy these men being soft about their offspring!

Ace almost has a heart attack when you try to pass your daughter to him, he swears he felt his heart jump into his throat when you ask if he wants to hold her, saying no that he's fine for now, but you insist he should. He doesn't do so for several hours, instead watching you with her as he works up the courage to have her in his arms.

What if my powers activate and I burn her? What if she cries and kicks? Oh lord, what I drop her??

"Ace, please. You need to hold her."

The look on your face, like you're begging him to hold her, finally makes Ace agree, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed to take your hours old daughter from you. You remind him to be careful of her head, make sure to support her, and smile when you finally get to see the two loves of your life together at last.

She doesn't fuss or cry or kick, instead staying fast asleep and seeming like she's snuggling into the warmth Ace radiates thanks to his Devil Fruit powers. He's just amazed by her, her tiny little nose and the beautiful, dark eyelashes that brush her chubby little cheeks. She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen after you of course.

Ace fights not to cry but can't help the few tears that sneak out, wiping them away on his sleeve quickly, the one time he wears a shirt and it's the day you give birth to the newest love of his life.

Gosh, he always knew you were amazing. Now you've given him a family of his own, how could he ever repay you?

"Thank you for her...she's so perfect."

Ace can't seem to tear his eyes away from your daughter's little face, and that's okay with you. She's his baby too, he needs to have some time with her.

"What do you think we should name her, Ace?"

Oh. Oh crap, she does need a name huh?

Law doesn't even have a chance to think about it, he's holding your son immediately after birth since he was the one to help you deliver obviously. Once your baby boy is wrapped in a towel Law hands him right to you before checking to make sure you're doing all right. Your vitals are all normal and stable, he's relived that you're both fine, while he watches you talk to your crying newborn.

You tell him that it doesn't count that he held your son right away since he's your and the boy's doctor, eventually getting Law to sit down and actually hold him as his father instead. Your son kept fussing and crying until Law finally got to hold him, the newborn quieting after a few moments but keeping his eyes shut tight and his little hands in fists as he kept whining.

Once he finally opens his eyes to stare up at Law, it's probably the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life apart from Bepo.

Especially once you catch sight of a few tears in Law’s eyes, making you smile softly as you lean back to just watch them. He's quick to rub at his eyes and make them stop, but the few sniffles you hear every bit tell you he's trying to stop himself from looking like a bigger baby than your literal baby he's holding.

He's never actually held a baby so tiny, not since Lammy was born. And to know this is his son, it's crazy to think about while he watches your baby boy start to fall asleep.

He really does wish his parents, sister, and Cora-san were there. They'd all love to meet your son, and you know he's thinking that, but you hope realizes that all the Heart Pirates are going to love your little boy just as much as his family would have.

And that eases the sting a bit, especially when they all do get to meet your son, and not a single one of them is without tears, beyond happy for you and their beloved captain.

Penguin almost begs to hold your daughter once she's born and you're both stable. Law tries to push him away while he takes your daughter's vitals and measurements, asking how on earth you dealt with Penguin being so clingy the last nine months, which just makes you laugh.

"Go sit with your wife, damn it, I'll bring her over in a minute."

"But, captain--"

"Penguin, just come over here for now."

Penguin sits beside your bed and pouts until Law finally brings your daughter over, about to hand her to you before you direct him to your husband. Both ask if you're absolutely sure you want Penguin to hold her first, until you confirm it, and Law hands your daughter to her father, showing him the right away to hold her, before he leaves the three of you alone for a few minutes.

Penguin is absolutely enthralled with her. She's still fussy from being born, stretching out her little arms and legs, making cute little sounds, and he just can't believe she's finally here. He feels like you two waited an eternity for her to be born, now she has been! She's so small, she fits perfectly in his arms and it makes him want to cry so much.

"She's so tiny."

"And she looks just like you, Peng."

Due to you having twins, you hold your son while Sanji holds your daughter, blubbering like the baby girl was because he's just so happy to have these babies with you. It makes you want to laugh hearing him cry, watching him kiss your daughter's forehead to try and calm her down while he dotes on her and you give your son attention.

"You're an angel, a perfect little gift from heaven!"

When you finally swap which baby you're each holding, Sanji still cries, happy to have a son too! He never really thought you'd have twins, or that they'd be fraternal on top of it! Both are so precious to him, you're precious to him, this little family you've now built together.

Your daughter has his hair, but your son looks just like you to Sanji. He kisses your son's forehead before looking at you and your newborn daughter, still unable to believe this is going to be his life from now on. You, and him, and your two tiny blessings.

"I love you so, so much."

He can't wait to call Zeff and let him know the good news.

Zoro has no worries or qualms or tears when holding your son for the first time. Actually, it doesn't hit him for a few hours that he has a child now.

Your son is so quiet most of his first day outside the womb, sleeping and eating, only fussing when he needs something, but you're able to calm him down quickly. The way you're able to do that when this is your first baby impresses Zoro more than anything today.

It's only once you're asleep and he's holding your son again that it really gets to him. There's another person depending on him now, this one being his own flesh and blood, his newborn son that already looks just like him. His hands are so tiny, he's not even able to fully get his little fingers around one of Zoro's fingers.

Chopper made sure you both were left alone for the day, Zoro taking a bed next to yours and laying back with your son on his chest that night. That's when he realized just how small your baby is. His hand covered the newborn's back completely, his tiny hand fisting Zoro's shirt as he slept, small coos and whines coming from him every now and then. Zoro looks at you for a moment, before back to your son with a smile.

Your son may not have been planned, but Zoro's more than accepting of how his life is turning out.

Note 2: I am absolutely willing to elaborate on these men and their children. If anyone wants to see something specific, just send me a message! I'll be posting more of my own thoughts too!

#one piece x reader #reader insert #roranoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #penguin x reader #sanji x reader #blackleg sanji x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #black leg sanji x reader #op men as dads

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

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Broken

Wonze x Child!Reader

Summary: You break your arm

There's not really any other way Lucy can describe you but depressed.

With your arm stuck in a cast, you're severely limited in what you can do and you just kind of trudge after Keira.

The atmosphere in the house has been a bit frosty since the accident and Lucy knows it's her fault. She's the one that wasn't watching you on the climbing frame at the park until after the nasty tumble that had your arm snapping when you tried to put it out to stop your fall.

Keira's right to be pissed off at her but your own bad moods have noticeably worsened everything.

You cry a lot more now and you keep whacking your cast on things that wouldn't usually cause you pain.

"How's baby bear?" Georgia asks at breakfast one morning.

"Sad," Lucy replies sullenly," She can't leave Keira's side for even a minute. I tried to give her a bath yesterday when Kei was on the phone but she just cried the whole time. Her arm's been bothering her too."

Georgia makes a sympathetic noise, head turning to where you and Keira have just walked in.

It's not an uncommon sight now to see you in Keira's arms. You don't want to leave them almost as much as Keira doesn't want you to leave them.

You sniffle a little as Keira sits you in your usual seat between her and Lucy and you stiffly place your casted arm onto the table. What makes it worse, is that it's on your dominant hand so you're struggling a little bit to do everyday things like feeding yourself and drawing.

Lucy loads up your fork and shovels food into your mouth. Your appetite has been affected by your mood so it's always hit and miss how much you're actually going to eat for breakfast so she's hoping to get as much down you as possible before your mood finally catches up with you.

You turn away when you've had enough, pushing your food away and looking over at Keira.

"Bear," Lucy says softly," Don't you want to eat some more? You haven't eaten much."

"No, thank you," You say sullenly, moving to climb into Keira's lap, resting your head on her chest and curling yourself into her body.

Keira sighs as she rises from the table. "I'm going to see if Leah can cheer her up. I'll be back in second."

"Jesus," Georgia says as she and Lucy watch Keira go," You're right. That kid is so depressed. She's had that cast on for at least a week now. You'd think she'd have adapted by now."

"She will," Lucy replies, suddenly feeling defensive," She's getting there. It won't be long now. She's getting better."

"I heard she had to miss her friend's birthday party," Georgia says," Keira said she'd been looking forward to it."

Lucy sighs, pushing her food around her plate. "Yeah. It was the day after she broke her arm. Bear was pretty bummed at missing it."

"I can imagine. Being so sad doesn't suit her."

"Hopefully, Leah can snap her out of it."

No matter what Lucy's hoping Leah will do, it doesn't really seem to be working.

Auntie Leah's sitting with Beth from Arsenal and she's trying to get you to detach from Mummy but you refuse.

"Come on, bear!" Auntie Leah laughs," Don't you want to see this cute video I've got?"

You think for a moment. You really want to watch it but you don't want to let go of Mummy at all. Letting go of something was how you got hurt in the first place and Mummy's more sturdier than the climbing frame and you feel safer holding her tight.

She would never drop you.

She's your Mummy bear and you're her baby bear.

She's big and warm and safe and you press yourself further into her like you could melt into her skin and stay there forever.

"How about some chocolate?" Auntie Leah asks," You can hang out in my room with G and I and we can eat chocolate until our tummies hurt."

Normally you would agree with that. You love spending time eating chocolate with Auntie Leah and G but you don't really want to be away from Mummy and Mum. It's bad enough that Mum's across the room from you but you can see her so you know that she's safe.

"We can even watch Brother Bear!"

That nearly breaks you. Brother Bear is your favourite movie ever but Mummy and Mum don't really like screen time so you only get to watch it if you've been very good.

But, still, you'll give up Brother Bear if it means you can stay with Mummy and Mum.

You shake your head. "Want Mum," You whisper against Mummy's skin.

She sighs, resting her head on yours. "Okay, bear," She says, defeated," Let's get Mum."

When you get to Mum, she's whispering to Georgia, who smiles at you before scampering off to Auntie Leah.

"What are you two planning?" Mummy asks suspiciously as she sits in the seat that used to be yours.

"Nothing bad," Mum says quickly before her hand runs over the back of your head and you turn to look at her," How are you feeling, bear?"

"Itchy." You hold your casted arm out to her.

Mum's gotten good at scratching your cast itches.

"Itchy?" She echoes," Well, we can't have that!" She takes a small wooden spoon out of her pocket and starts tapping at the cast. The doctors told her that she's not allowed to let you put stuff down it in case it causes infections so hopefully the vibrations will knock out your itchiness.

It does for the most part and you flop your head back against Mummy when Mum is done.

"Thank you, Mum," You say.

"Of course, bear."

Lucy watches as G and Leah wander out of the room and awaits the text she knows is coming.

You get a bit restless doing nothing and Keira gently runs her hand through your hair to settle you against her again.

"Come on," Lucy says when she finally gets the text," We've got a little surprise, bear."

Your brow furrows in confusion but you don't put up a fight as you're taken back up to the bedrooms. You bypass Mummy and Mum's room in favour of going to Auntie Leah and G's.

Both of them are waiting for you.

Their beds have been pushed together to create a mega bed and their sheets have been made into a little nest with space for all five of you to curl up in.

There's bags of your favourite snacks and your favourite chocolate milk. The title screen of Brother Bear is paused.

You sniffle.

"Oh, no!" G says," Don't cry!"

"These are happy tears," Mum says, wiping them from your cheeks," Isn't that right, bear?"

You nod. "Happy tears."

"Are you ready, bear?" Mummy asks," We're going to have nice chill day with G and Auntie Leah."

"Ready."

#woso x reader #wonze x reader #keira walsh x reader #keira walsh #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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koolades-world · 2 months

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I have a request for an MC who's never been called beautiful or handsome before, so when they're complimented, they ask why and just start to cry. The brothers (plus Dia and Barbatos, if it's not too much to ask, of course) are shocked at their tears and find out that their human had never been complimented before this moment.

Sorry if it's too specific, I had this experience and I cried for way too long, I just want to know how the boys would react.

hi there! yes of course :)

no worries about the specifics and such. so glad someone called you stunning like you are. you and everyone reading this: YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL HANDSOME STUNNING GORGEOUS PRETTY!!!!! if nobody has told you that today, know that you are!! you deserve the world :)))

enjoy <3

Mc who cries after being called beautiful/handsome/stunning

Lucifer

right after you had finally taken your last RAD exam, you thought you looked like a mess and you vocalized that

he swooped into to disagree and called you handsome

he’s quick to comfort you when you start to cry because he’s not quite sure why

when he finds out it’s because he called you handsome, he dabs always your tears and makes a mental note to call you good looking more often

Mammon

he called you it kind of in the heat of the moment

but that he didn’t mean it, but he was just so excited! you’d just helped him win a huge bet and made him loads of grim so it slipped out in a long string of compliments

he slows down once he sees you crying, and wipes your tears

he tells you he’d call you beautiful over and over again if you wanted because he really did think you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen

Levi

he really worked himself up to compliment you like this

after all, as a chronic overthinker, he sat for while thinking about the implications and how you might react

once he finally said it after almost chickening out, he totally freaked out after you burst out into tears

the following ten minutes were chaotic to say the least, but in the end he knew it was out of joy

Satan

omg I can literally see him reciting the iconic lines to you from Romeo and Juliet

this man is so extra in subtle ways

you’re gorgeous and he wants to you to know

by the time he’s at the end of his lines, you’re of course a blubbering mess but he’s there for you, ready to melt your heart all over again

Asmo

he often throws around that word comfortable

so, it's only natural he ends up calling you it once or twice

he didn't even realize the way you froze and started to tear up after

eventually he turns around and sees the silent tears rolling down your cheeks with a smile, and pulls you into a hug. he's gonna be calling you that a lot more from now on :)

Beel

he probably says it in passing after you called something or someone else pretty

something along the lines of “you’re pretty too” simple and to the point

he feels several moments of panic until you start to try to reassume him that they’re not bad tears

every time you call something else pretty or something along those lines, he thinks of that moment and says what he said back then with more purpose

Belphie

he for sure tells you while the two of you are our stargazing

out of the blue, he rolls over and tells you you remind him of the brightest, twinkling star and that you shine in the same, brilliant, beautiful way

without looking back at you, he returns to star gazing as you begin to silently sniff

he pulls you into his side, gently smiling and hugging you tight

Diavolo

after getting ready for a party and putting on the finished touches on your outfit, you turned to him to ask how you looked

after he told you you looked incredibly handsome, you couldn’t stop the waterworks from flowing

he’s very afraid at first he said something wrong but after you explain it’s just because you’ve never been called that before, his whole demeanor changes

he personally delivers handwritten notes to you daily during RAD that are just all the things he loves about you in them now <33

Barbatos

when he gives out a compliment, it’s very deliberate

he thinks very carefully about what he wants to say, not because he’s afraid he’ll say something wrong, but because he really wants it to mean something

when he called you and your work pretty along with a few other things, he wasn’t sure how to initially react to your tears

but eventually when you started to hug him, he hugged you back and comforted you. he has the little d’s make a routine or complimenting you too :)

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date

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galedekarios · 5 months

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Gale headcanons go! :]

thank you for your ask. i'm sorry it took this long to get around to it. my mind blanked.

i want to add that these are solely my own headcanons and just that. nothing more. if you have a different opinion, that's valid. i'm not here to argue or debate about it.

anyhow, these aren't in any particular order, just writing as i think of them:

-gale was clean-shaven before the orb and being discarded by mystra. his hair has outgrown its original style as well. this is the reason why tara hates gale's beard, even when felines usually like to rub their faces against them.

-while gale has enchanted the piano in his tower to play by itself, he can and does play himself when the mood takes him.

-gale doesn't truly get jealous or possessive. he skips that step and slips right into questioning himself and feeling sad/insecure.

-gale tends to overthink, he struggles with anxiety and feeling overwhelmed esp after the orb, but has found methods that help him deal with these feelings and bring them under some form of control to examine them ("please, i need to think... i need to retrace my steps to a glade of calm and think.")

-he cries at his wedding & struggles through his vows

-he never takes off his wedding ring

-while he is very much an acts of service person in a relationship, he learns to accept and love being taken care of and doted on by his partner

-gale is very much able to find beauty in the mundane and simple things of life: beautiful flowers in a garden, the way the light falls at sunset, the sound of rain tapping against the window, the fresh salty sea breeze in the morning, a warm cup of expensive tea, a beautiful piece of art, a touching poem

-he often prefers walking home with his partner after work instead of using portals or teleportation. it allows him to talk about both of their days and show his partner things about the city he loves so very much. it also allows him to clear his head after a long day.

-his spellbook has pages that look like this:

when tara has decided that nagging him to stop working didn't cut it anymore.

-speaking of: gale gets so absorbed into his work and research that he skips both sleep and meals

-after his long isolation and depression, struggling with orb and being affected by it physically, gale is quite slender/willowy (tara has several lines reminding him to eat and take care of himself in an origin run) with a soft stomach and no muscle definition

-he's ~175 cm

-he's touch-starved

-while he does like to cook for others, he doesn't tolerate anyone helping him with the task. he will however appreciate it if his partner cooked for him.

-his tower now is quite barren, except for his extensive book collection, having consumed most magical artefacts he owned

-after his return to waterdeep, he likes to fill it with little things he has collected over time. the space is healing as much as he is.

-gale still suffers from chronic pain flare-ups, even after the orb is gone/calmed

-he likes it when things (fabrics, clothes, pens, books, etc etc etc) are well made and of high quality, but not necessarily ostentatious

-he has an eclectic taste, sort of imparted on him by morena's own

-his father abandoned him and morena

-gale is extremely open-minded and accepting, and will entertain almost any and all thoughts and opinions as long as they are well argued for / follow a sound logic

-while he's not easily spooked or scared given how diverse and open waterdeep is, nothing quite managed to prepare him for the things he would see during the journey to cure himself and the others of the tadpole. his knowledge was mostly academic, save for the stray unfortunate death slaad encounter. he works through these things by compartmentalising. writing them down, examining them and going over them in his mind.

-he hopes that he and the friends he's made on this journey will stay close. he writes them regularly and is elated when he receives a reply himself, but will need encouragement and reassurance to organise a get-together in waterdeep.

-his biggest flaw is not hubris or the ambition in the pursuit of knowledge he held as a chosen, his biggest flaw is his sense of worth as gale dekarios, the imperfectly perfect human being, the person behind the titles and accomplishments and perceived failures and insecurities

-he still has to realise what truly happened in his 'relationship' with mystra and still has a lot of healing to do after the game ends

-in the early stages of his relationship with his partner, he's very willing to please/tolerate, at times sadly to the detriment of his own preferences (drow twin scene)

-while he takes compliments in stride, he still likes and appreciates word of affirmation and praise; his partner insulting or degrading him would wound him deeply

-while he wouldn't be a father himself, he would be perfectly happy to be the eccentric uncle. yet even so and while he does love it, he would need time to recharge his social batteries after / recover from the overstimulation that being around children for a prolonged amount of time brings.

-gale's magic is a second nature to him and he likes using it even for the many mundane things, turning the page of a book, getting a spice from a high shelf, etc

-he's a born sorcerer with a wizard's education

-after settling in waterdeep with his partner, he lets his hair grow out more

-while easily lost in his work and research, gale is extremely thoughtful about anniversaries or birthdays, always striving to find the perfect gift

-he likes reading to his partner or being read to & discussing it, exchanging thoughts and opinions

-it's canon that he does write poetry, i like to imagine he'd sometimes leave little haiku-esque verses for his partner

i'm sure i have more, but they escape me right now so. 🖤

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #tav x gale #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #text: asks

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yanderestarangel · 6 months

Text

"My heart belongs to you alone..."

TW: insecurities, jealousy, reader has trust issues, make-up sex, dom!bi han, praise, v!sex, ftm reader, rough sex, smut, little angst, afab anatomy.

⸺ Your insecurity was never new to him, however, Bi Han didn't really understand why you doubted his conduct and fidelity, but he was an understanding man, who loved you and understood that certain aspects would have to be worked on in your core - From past relationships, he was proud of you and even if he didn't say it verbally, his heart cried out for every piece of you... However, not even the cyromancer's solid passion and love stopped you from feeling hurt and insecure again.

Your jealousy and doubts were so visible that it even hurt, especially when you saw several people - new ninja recruits - trying to flirt with the grandmaster, you tried to control yourself, tried to control that underlying sadness that was trying to climb back into your mind and dope your senses...

But it was too late, especially when I saw some of them whispering about how much they wanted to sleep with their man. Bi Han wasn't stupid and he knew they were trying to flirt with him, he wanted to be a polite leader but that disgusted him, especially because he said several times that you were his partner, but it didn't help and it was too much for you to bear - when he realized you had already left for home which led him to cancel the rest of the training for the next day and go run after you, you were his number one priority.

⸺ Your body was lying on the bed, wrapped like a snail in several sheets, while the copious crying was audible, sub zero was a patient man... But at that moment, he knew that words wouldn't help enough, so he decided to act, act in the best way you could think of - taking the sheets off you with a quick movement, and forcing you to look deep into his eyes, "-Look at me." he ordered sternly, your eyes boring into his, seeking understanding.

"-Do you really believe that I would betray you like that?" His tone softened slightly. "-I chose you because you make me feel alive again. Because you bring light back to my dark world. Do you understand?" This time, he didn't even wait for a response from you, forcefully tearing any fabric that still prevented him from seeing your pretty pussy in his hungry eyes.

You babbled incoherent thoughts to him, letting your insecurities speak louder, which made Bi Han angry. With a violent movement of his hips, he buried himself completely inside you, moaning deeply as he did so - He gave you a light armbar on your neck - reaching down, he slapped your ass hard enough to make you scream before returning to his merciless pace.

Bi-Han grew in frustration, seeing you continue crying because you were insecure, but he held you in place, even if painfully, his cock throbbing against your cunt. "-You know that's not true baby boy...," he snarled, his free hand reaching between your legs to roughly rub your clit through - He began to thrust faster, harder than before, asserting his dominance over you both physically and emotionally.

His pace didn't slow down even as tears continued to trickle down your cheeks, staining the sheets beneath you. "-Listen to me boy." he commanded between heavy breaths. "-I choose you every fucking time. No matter what anyone else says or thinks, it doesn't change how I feel about you." His pace didn't falter, if anything, it intensified.

His hips bucked faster, harder, driving him deeper into your tight channel. Your moans turned into high-pitched whimpers, muffled by the hold on your throat. "-You are beautiful," he growled, his voice hoarse with need. "-Oh- So fucking beautiful... How could I change you? How could I leave you for someone else- You are my husband, goddamnit! And don't you dare forget it!" As he spoke, he began to thrust deeper and harder, pounding into you relentlessly.

The combination of pleasure and pain was overwhelming, causing new tears to well up in your eyes. But despite the carnal and mental pain, something inside you calmed down and you relaxed a little, as you looked directly into his eyes - He moaned deeply, leaning down to capture your lips in a messy kiss. "-That's a good boy... Cum, cum for me, my angel." Sub-zero groaned deeply, his cock twitching violently inside you as your orgasm washed over him - he followed suit seconds later, filling your pussy with hot cum.

His hips continued to rock back and forth for a few moments before he finally released his hold on your throat, allowing you to gasp for air - panting heavily, he turned to look at you, you both sweaty bodies intertwined in a mess of flesh and fluids. "-That was... intense," he managed between heavy breaths. "-But I think we both needed that... Never forget that I love you... never despise yourself again, I love you, I fucking love you."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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colourstreakgryffin · 9 months

Note

Can we get Muzan and Kokushibo discussing Muzan's very menacing bratty spoiled, daughter's behavior towards other demons with Muzan defending her every action and seeing nothing wrong with her behavior (while she torment's Douma and Hantengu in the background?)

I think it would be hilarious, thank you for considering my ask<3~

Aaaa! That’s actually really cute in a weird way! I like this idea a lot, thank you, love!

Kibutsuji Muzan- True Angel

“Lord Muzan…” Kokushibo asked softly, sat on his knees in a respectful manner as Muzan turned to his top Upper Moon and frowned slightly, annoyed as he had another duty to finish. What does he want? Muzan raises his hand without so much as a word, as a non-verbal sign that the six-eyed man can speak freely. “Lord Muzan… you need to… talk to the… young Lady” Kokushibo was planning to explain to his rather unforgiving Master about his concerns over his very menacing, spoiled, bratty daughter’s behaviours towards all the other Upper Moons

“What about my daughter, Kokushibo? I dare you to try tell me my daughter isn’t perfect” Muzan barked coldly, the second his servant mentioned his beloved daughter. How dare he think he could try tell him how to parent his daughter! Those harsh words he spat out couldn’t cut down Kokushibo’s confidence as the demon samurai muscled out a response in very little time, he was barely intimidated by his own Master. He needed to get his point across, the Upper Moons are continuously tortured by you, Muzan’s precious daughter

“I’m not… suggesting that… I just… need you to know… about what she… does to us” Muzan titled his head, displeased and annoyed but since he favoured the brother of his worst enemy severely, he was willing to hear him out. But whatever he may say will be such bullshit, he can already tell. “Okay. What is the problem, Kokushibo. Tell me” The blood reds glared, unreasonable traces of anger already rising. To him, anybody merely mentioning his daughter in a negative light is insulting her and he wouldn’t let any breathing being insult his precious love

“Have you seen… how she… treats us?” Muzan’s stroked eyebrow rose in confusion as he shakes his head no, arms crossed over his chest. What could you possibly do to the five demons coursing with his blood, a lone Hashira could not stand a chance against them. “She attacks us constantly…” Kokushibo remarked in his signature low voice, causing Muzan to be thrown back internally. Shock overflowing him, that claim is just ridiculous

“Attacks you? That’s nonsense” Muzan answered firmly and still deep in disbelief, sitting down before Kokushibo after a few seconds of thought, to meet with his hexa-eyes. Kokushibo shakes his head slowly in response without a word, his hands still curled up and laid in his lap, Muzan simply didn’t believe that his perfect princess pulls mischief and causes chaos behind his back. “She does… she treats Hantengu like… a scratching… post and treats Akaza… like a punching bag” As the two built men spoke in a rather passive-aggressive and firm aura

You laughed mischievously under her breath, your blood red eyes glaring hatefully at the whimpering, whining Upper Moon 4 laying on the floor beneath you as you raised your claws up to be seen by him. Hantengu cried out as you swiped at his face with a delighted grunt each time, blood staining your claws. The surrounding Upper Moons all reacted differently to you targeting one of their fellow Moons, most wanted to get away

Gyokko immediately dropped into the safety of his ceramic pot at the mere sight of you, as Akaza flinched in horror at you, shuffling to the edge of the many block-like building’s roof whilst Douma chuckled at you and your mericless attacking on the poor Hantengu, slowly faning his face with his golden fan. None of the Upper Moons knew Kokushibo was trying to convince their Master that his daughter is unnecessarily attacking them, since she can totally get away with doing whatever she wants

“Are you sure she isn’t playing with them? Dokusha has different ways to play, then most kids” Muzan barked in a meaningful, honest response as he didn’t bother to move, completely interested in hearing all his Upper Moon 1’s arguments over you and your supposedly despicable behaviour to anybody, other than him. But he truly couldn’t seen what the problem is, you are harmless. None of the Upper Moons should be cowering at you, this concept sounds like delusion to him

“No… playing isn’t striking until… we bleed…” “It sounds more like you’re all too weak to handle playing with a child who has claws” “Master… She doesn’t play with… us, she hurts us” “What is the problem with her being able to hone her skills? I don’t get the problem, Kokushibo”

As the argument grew up and the voices rose, you leaped at Douma once you were done with the bleeding and pathetically sobbing Hantengu. Snatching his luxurious fan from his hand whilst you pinned him down as he chuckles at you, not even flinching at you stabbing it right though his eye. Your malicious grin spread as you purposefully twisted the impaled item in the Upper Moon 2’s socket, hoping he’d respond in any form. Their torment was your pleasure, but you hissed annoyed when Douma laughed louder and lifted a hand to pat your hair

He isn’t in pain?! How dare he mock you! You always get what you want and you want him to fear you! You hissed outloud, stamping on the fan as you kneed his stomach firmly. The closed fan dug deeper into his skill and spit out more of his disgusting red blood onto the cloor. Hantengu whimpered, shying into the nearby corner as his wounds healed whilst Akaza avoided watching the scene only a few metres besides him, trying his best to not intervene

If he were to try stop you, Muzan would have his head in a instant…

Muzan, on the other end of the gigantic marvellous open arena, didn’t even notice the way you attacked his Upper Moons as he continued to push back on every piece of evidence of your cruel bratty behaviour towards his loyal soldiers, presented by the most trustworthy man he has. Kokushibo didn’t want to give up, believing he had the most chance to convince his Master into trusting his every word he spoke about you. Muzan truly didn’t want to take his top’s remarks and he was tempted to ignore the concerns. Since his precious baby is a angel…

Why would she hurt anybody?

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 10 months

Note

YAY ur back we missed u babes, did you see the kelce documentary trailer, where Travis is holding the lil baby and Jason is just like “like a football” like 🥹🥰🥹🥰🥹pls can you write a little blurb on that if u can 🤍

I did! I hope Travis gets to have his family soon because I know he's going to be an excellent father. This blurb is focused on the first night Travis and the reader brought Alex home from the hospital 🥹

The First Night

Travis knew football; it was his whole life. He had 10 years under his belt, along with the injuries to prove it, but he was only sure of two things in his life, and football was one of them. The other one was that he loved you with his whole being. He knew it wasn't much, but his love for you could move mountains, and it created a new life, a bundle of joy that somehow fit perfectly in his hands.

The house was calm and quiet as you slept; bringing Alex home had taken all of your energy. It was late, the sun was set to rise in a couple of hours, and Travis had only closed his eyes once in the last several hours. He just couldn't take his eyes off of his son, committing his face to memory. Even at only a few days old, Alex looked exactly like you, short of the big blue eyes he got from Travis.

Alex wriggled in Travis' hands, taking the first of many breaths in his new home as he slept peacefully, and Travis hoped that Bubba couldn't hear his heart beating out of his chest. The hard part was over, he thought. His son was home, you were healthy, his family was complete, and yet, he was terrified, realizing that the hard part was truly just beginning.

"Just like a football", Travis quietly chuckled to himself as his brother's words echoed through his mind. He had vivid memories of holding Bennett for the first time not that long ago, and how fragile she felt in his arms. He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of cries escaping Alex's tiny mouth.

"Hey, hey, little man. What's wrong?", Travis whispered. The sound of Travis' gruff voice calmed Alex immediately, his eyelids fluttering as he self-soothed with the help of his pacifier.

"So, what do you think?" Travis looked around the dimly lit nursery, each piece meticulously picked out by you to match the cottage-inspired aesthetic you had been planning for the last nine months.

"We both hit the jackpot, Bubba", Travis admitted, as he pulled Alex up to lay against his bare chest. "You've got the best mama anyone could ever ask for. She makes me believe that I can actually do this whole 'dad' thing" Travis laughed as Alex grunted, "I know, I know, I can't believe it either. I promise you this though, I'll try with everything I have to be the best father I can be to you." He placed a gentle kiss on Alex's forehead.

"We've been waiting for you to arrive for quite a long time, bud." He grazed a gentle finger underneath Alex's chin. "I can't wait to see you smile for the first time, and take your first steps. I want to be here for everything just like my dad was for me."

"What are you two talking about?" You gave Travis a small smile when he looked over at you propped in the doorway.

"Uh, football. Just running Alex through some formations. I've got a legacy to protect, babe." Travis winks at Alex. "Isn't that right, bubba?"

Travis now knew three things for sure: football, loving you, and at this moment, he had never been happier.

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#travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce imagine #traviskelce #travis kelce #nfl fanfiction #nfl fanfic #nfl fan fic #nfl imagine #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce fanfiction

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myslutwritings · 11 months

Note

HIII COULD YOU DO THE UPPER MOONS WITH A CRYBABY READER? (A thought of mine,of them taking care of me while I sit and cry and babble in there arms about something small 😖😖😖)

Aww, i love this idea! yes i’ll definitely do it!

➤ Uppermoon’s reaction to their S/O being a crybaby

➤ headcanons

Uppermoons x crybaby!GN!reader

including: Muzan, kokushibo, Douma, Akaza and the Hantengu clones (Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu & Urogi)

warnings: smaller reader, mentions of murder, semi-nsfw?

Muzan Kibutsuji

• We all know how he is.

• Being the demon king, he isn’t the very best at comfort. I think we’re all aware of that.

• Isn’t fazed by your crying. i mean, it isn’t anything new to him. He murders and eats people on a daily basis so crying isn’t something that’s unusual for him to witness..

• However, it’s YOU crying.

• You crying makes Muzan feel… not good.

• He can’t really explain it.

• All he knows is that he strongly dislikes seeing/hearing you cry.

• At first he scolded you for showing such emotions. But then he only realized he made you cry more afterwards.

• Muzan feels horrible. But you’ll never hear that coming from him.

• The two of you are the complete opposite.

• He only got angry at you for crying at first because you were crying over something so stupid and second of all he didn’t want to admit he didn’t like seeing you cry and has no idea how to comfort you properly.

• He doesn’t want to come off as weak.

• Eventually, he’ll own up, apologize for his behavior. After all, he didn’t really mean it. (Believe it or not)

• Muzan isn’t just so great with emotions and he isn’t used to have such an emotional S/O.

• Will stroke your hair as you lay your head in his lap.

• He’ll listen to you vent about whatever upset you. Even if it’s stupid in his eyes.

• “You weep over such silly things, my dear.”

• Muzan will hush and wipe your tears. Thats all you’ll get.

• Now if SOMEONE upset you, they’ll be dead immediately. No questions asked.

• Muzan doesn’t care if you don’t want it. He’ll do it anyway or just lie and say he won’t do it. Which he will

• Doesn’t give a shit who it is either. Even if it’s a family member he’ll destroy them.

• Because how dare they make his beloved S/O cry?

• He’ll literally torture whoever made you this upset. So that’s another way of him showing his love for you. Even if it’s in a horrific way.

• Then he’ll proceed to tell you about how he killed the person who made you sad. 😟 (Doesn’t leave out any details)

• Goes into a state of severe confusion as you cry more. He expects you to treat him like a superior being and says you should be thankful he decided to lend you his presence and time in the first place..

Kokushibo

• Like Muzan, he isn’t an expert when it comes to comforting someone.

• He’s used to being solitary so this is all new for him! Please understand.

• But unlike Muzan, Kokushibo won’t be annoyed by your crying.

• Kokushibo has cried himself before so why should he judge you? (Even though he’s only cried like.. once)

• All though Koku has cried before. It was awhile ago and he barely remembers it. However, he isn’t a crybaby.

• He’s honestly surprised by how much you cry.

• Never has encountered a human who cries as much as you do.

• It comes to a point where sometimes he feels helpless.

• Kokushibo isn’t very vocal. So expect him to be more on the physical side when it comes to comfort.

• Words of affirmation isn’t his strong suit either.

• Becomes immensely confused when you cry more whenever he hugs you. (You cry more when people comfort you)

• Like huh?? Why did you start to cry more?? Should he stop??

• Kokushibo will just pick you up bridal style and set you down on a futon. He’ll cuddle you for awhile until you fall asleep in his arms.

• Isn’t the type to give you advice nor is he responsive but he’ll definitely listen to you.

• Just holds you against his chest as you sob into his embrace.

• Will brutally murder anyone who upset you. He isn’t going to let that shit slide.

• If you beg him not to he’ll be hesitant. He wants to kill them for you but at the same time he doesn’t want to make you further upset if he does carry out the murder.

• Let’s all be blunt, in the end, he won’t listen to you. He won’t let anyone get away with hurting his S/O.

• Kokushibo will know this’ll upset you more but he does it anyway. He doesn’t want anyone messing with you.

Douma

• Oh great heavens..

• Out of all the uppermoons he’s definitely the most touchy/affectionate/comforting. (somewhat)

• Knows how to comfort others. (But it’s not genuine)

• With you it’s entirely different though!

• Butttt he’s still the type to tease his S/O. His toxic trait is that this sadistic basted finds great pleasure in seeing you cry.

• The way you’ll cling yourself to HIM, in need of HIS attention and comfort, desiring HIM and no one else:

• Douma FEEDSSS off that shit.

• Gets off by how vulnerable you get. (New turn on)

• Another thing is that he won’t severely pity you when you cry. After all, he’s not the best when it comes to emotion.

• Also not the type to be fazed by your crying state. i mean, he deals with his followers crying to him ALL the time about their stupid problems.

• Does not give a fuck about them.

• He is USED to not giving a fuck. That’s why he’s surprised he cares whenever you’re crying. Even if it’s over something so minor.

• Douma cares but doesn’t understand fully, yk?

• You need to be patent with him. After all, emotion is new for him. (He only experiences it around you)

anyway..

• Babies you whenever you cry.

• “Oh, my, my! What’s wrong, my sweet lotus?”

• As soon as he sees your tear-stained face he’ll just snatch you up without even asking and pull you onto his huge lap.

• Adores how adorable you look on his lap! You’re so tiny in his arms like this!!

• Let’s you babble about whatever upset you.

• Honestly, he ain’t even listening, he’s just admiring how vulnerable you look right now.

• He’ll just pepper your face in kisses and wipe your tears away.

• Cups your face and whispers sweet nothings into your ear. Douma reminds you that everything will be okay and that you’re safe with him.

• Sometimes he licks your tears.

• Teases you relentlessly if you cry over something stupid.

• Will instantly kill anyone who made you upset.

• Douma usually eats people when they’re this upset so they no longer have to bare the pain but he doesn’t want to eat you. Surprisingly.

• Confused by his own feelings.

• There was a time where you were upset and Douma straight up asked you if you want to be eaten by him.

• Yeah, bros a menace.

Akaza

• This man is SOOO sweet about it.

• The first time you cried in front of him he flipped out😭

• Like huh?? what’s wrong?? are you okay??

• On the inside he’s panicking.

• Is surprised by how vulnerable you can get whenever you’re a mess like this.

• If you’re human, low-key enjoys the power imbalance.

• Though, Akaza absolutely despises witnessing you cry.

• Never makes fun of you. Even if you’re crying over something that others view as stupid. He won’t ever pass judgment towards you or even tease you.

• Akaza will 100% listen to you vent about whatever upset you.

• Oh? what’s that? SOMEONE upset you?

• Yeah, he is coming after them. even if it’s a woman.

• Doesn’t care.

• No one hurts his S/O.

• Akaza wants to protect you. Out of every uppermoon he is the most overprotective.

• Is almost TOO protective.

• You were growing relatively concerned for how overprotective he was. You mostly just didn’t want him to get hurt.

• “I have to ensure you’re safe at all times.”

• Kinda scary at times.

• He wants you out of harms way at all costs.

• Isn’t used to physical touch but whenever you’re sad he’ll definitely give you lots of cuddles.

• Will let you babble on and on.

• Isn’t the best advice giver but he’ll help you in his own way.

• Demons aren’t used to comforting others after all so he needs to ease up to it.

• Proceeds to ask you what he can do to make you feel better!

• You cry frequently and it honestly concerns him.

• Once you finally tell him you’re just sensitive and that you cry over things easily he’ll understand.

• Lays down with you and holds you firmly against his chest as you cry your little heart out.

• Forehead kisses too.

• Akaza is a gentleman! Would so cook your favorite meals whenever you’re having a bad day.

• He isn’t toxic in any way. Just his only red flag is probably being too overprotective? (If you could even call that a red flag)

Sekido

• Let’s be completely honest.

• Sekido is going to be aggravated over the fact you’re a crybaby.

• He’ll be passive aggressive towards you.

• Not because he hates you, or because he’s mad at you. This is all just a cover up because he legitimately has no clue how to help you or comfort you.

• He’s very uneducated and inexperienced when it comes to this kind of situation.

• Sekido just grows more angered with myself that he doesn’t know how to help you. Instead of communicating with you about it he just takes his frustrations out on you.

• This makes you even more upset and only turns you into a bigger of a crybaby.

• Sekido secretly feels horrible.

• Eventually he mans up and apologizes stubbornly. Admits that he’s not used to comforting others and isn’t a fan of crying.

• Of course you forgive him because you know how he is. You know that he didn’t mean it.

• Sekido is not exactly uncomfortable around those who are sensitive. I mean, he deals with Aizetsu so he’s used to it.

• Sekido isn’t just used to comforting others.

• In fact, he’s HORRIBLE at it.

• The best you’ll get is cuddles (if you’re lucky)

• Then again, he ain’t used to this 😔😔

• Fortunately for you, Sekido will do his best to try and appear less intimidating around you.

• Lowers the volume of his booming voice for you and attempts to act more soothing around your presence.

• See? he does care. Just is not ideal at showing it.

• Like the other demons if anyone made you cry Sekido will definitely take care of them for you!

Karaku

• THIS MAN ADORES YOU! (in a peculiar way..)

• The second he sees you a crying mess he’s scooping you up into his arms and cradling you.

• He’ll lay down with you and allow you to lay your head on his chest as you cry.

• Karaku will understand if you’re upset over something that actually makes sense but if it’s something tiny he’s like; ???

• Teases you about it:(

• Similar to Douma, he gets off by how you rely on him when you’re an emotional wreck.

• Sometimes Karaku will purposely make you cry because he’s lowkey a sadist.

• Karaku has that little secret smirk on his face whenever you start babbling about whatever it is upset you.

• Just shushes you as your babbling continues.

• First, he will comfort you before gladly executing the asshole who hurt your fragile little heart.

• “Awhh! It’s okay darlin’ you don’t have to worry about them anymore!!”

• Once he debated on whether or not he should tell you that he kills whoever upset you.

• Unlike the other uppermoons for some reason he doesn’t tell you that he killed the person who made you cry.

• Karaku doesn’t say anything in hidden fear that he’ll scare you more or make you cry again.

• Don’t get me wrong, loves comforting you, loves how you need him, but he also hates seeing you cry.

• Always wants you to feel satisfied and happy!

• Karaku will do ANYTHING in his power to get your tears to stop.

• Offers you sex to help you feel better 💀 (bros a hypersexual)

• However, if he’s having a bad day then he might not be the best at comfort. But if he’s not having a bad or unusual day then he dedicates all his time to you and you alone!

Aizetsu

• Aizetsu understands you more than anyone else.

• He also has the strong tendency to be a crybaby himself.

• At first, Aizetsu will he too shy to comfort you.

• This is is mostly because he is afraid he might do something wrong.

• But eventually he gets over it.

• Aizetsu feels bad for you and would hate to leave you alone.

• He does what you do to comfort him whenever he’s upset.

• Like you, small things will trigger his emotions.

• So he relates to you in a way.

• Aizetsu adores you and loves you so much!

• Will give you all the attention and comfort you need.

• Aizetsu will even ditch missions just to take care of you. He’d hate to leave you alone.

• You’re always there for him whenever he’s feeling down so of course he’s going to do the same for you!

• He desperately wants to hurt whoever made you cry

• Unlike the others, Aizetsu will listen to you and not murder who hurt you if you protest against it. He respects you and doesn’t want you to feel even more hurt.

• Y’all are both big crybabies together.

• Crying sessions? yes. 100%.

• Aizetsu will hold you and play with your hair while whispering sweet nothings into your ear to soothe your nerves.

• Literally on the verge of tears whenever he sees you cry:(

• He isn’t a big fan of seeing you upset so he’ll do anything to make his precious S/O smile!

• “You don’t know how much your smile means to me..”

Urogi

• HATES seeing you cry.

• Becomes veryyyy overprotective.

• But not to worry! He will never judge you.

• Might tease you a TINY bit though.

• Okay, i’m bluffing, he’ll tease you A LOT. not as much as Douma and Karaku though.

• Urogi will only really tease you when you’re crying over something small.

• Knows when something is up or when you’re holding back tears. It’s pretty damn obvious no there’s no need to lie to him.

• As i said before, Urogi won’t ever judge you!

• The moment you begin to break down you’re scooped up into his arms

• “Hey, hey, hey! what’s the matter, sweetheart?”

• Will pressure you into telling him what’s wrong.

• Isn’t too thrilled when he realizes how downright negative you are.

• Probably forces you to smile, he’ll gently use his talons to force your lips into a smiling while chuckling at you. (Tries not to accidentally cut you in the process)

• Gives you reassurance that he’s here for you and there is no need to feel upset!!

• Is more than happy to kill the unworthy bastard who made you dry.

• I feel like Urogi would just take you flying somewhere to get some fresh hair. That’ll help, right?!

• The type to wrap his wings around you. His wings are quite big so he loves seeing how tiny you look in them.

• Tickle fights? yes! definitely! Wants to see a real smile so this menace will begin ticking you out of no where until you’re a giggling mess.

• Urogi is the talkative type so he will keep talking to you in hopes that’ll calm you down/distract you at least.

That’s about all! I apologize if some of them are shorter than the others. Thank you for sending in this request! i’m working on more at the moment so my apologies if it takes me awhile to post.

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jade-len · 5 months

Text

i adore how mxtx sorta flipped the idea on the whole top/bottom thing with svsss, and just BL relationships in general.

making bingqiu very open to switching, not making the "bottom" super feminine and actually leaning more to the handsome side compared to the "top", how luo binghe is manipulative sensitive and cries easily, etc. one of the main themes in svsss is literally about sexuality (and possibly even about gender roles).

as a queer asian man myself, i absolutely despise the "yaoi archetype" and it was one of the reasons why i avoided consuming BL media. hell, years ago when i first saw heavens official blessing, i mentally groaned and went, "ugh, let me guess, the bottom is super feminine and innocent, while the top is masculine and experienced." of course, that's not the case now, but it's disappointing how that thought was there purely because of the god awful way fetish-y media portrays homosexual people and couples. because, believe it or not, we are not assigned male/female typical gender roles just because one likes to top/bottom (and even then, it's not even like that! some people have preferences, sure, but it's not so strictly "i'm top/bottom")

so, while i absolutely LOVE the english novel designs (especially luo binghe's cute curly hair, gongyi xiao, etc, and personally believe a lot of the takes from the western artist on the designs are an improvement), i am greatly saddened by people subconsciously assigning shen qingqiu as someone more delicate and feminine and luo binghe as someone super masculine and muscly. like, if you're going to have luo binghe depicted as the western design (i believe this stems from binghe being applied to more western ideals for men, and, admittedly, i actually really love his design), at least don't make shen qingqiu feminine and delicate? don't have his appearance play into the stupid yaoi thing?

i get that people have different takes on svsss, especially how the western version depicts it. but, people just... seem to very over exaggerate the top/bottom roles when it comes to bingqiu (again, these two are, canonically, VERY open to switching).

it's weird, it's uncomfortable, and it comes across as, "so, who wears the pants in the relationship?"

so, can we please have more canonically handsome shen qingqiu? canonically beautiful and pretty boy luo binghe (they literallly state that binghe looks EXACTLY like his mom, su xiyan! while a more handsome woman, is still very beautiful!! plus it is stated several times that binghe is slim, and that shang qinghua made him that way!) or at the very least, a BL couple who actually look like normal people (ok thats a little hard considering binghe is literally supposed to be perfect) and not just a stupid fetishized version of themselves.

and no, i'm not saying that queer men shouldn't be feminine or men who are feminine shouldn't be in a relationship with guys who are masculine, etc.

TLDR: please stop twinkifying shen qingqiu and going against what mxtx defied for us queer men (the stupid yaoi roles). and for the love of whoever you believe in, do NOT think that i hate the english design or people's personal interpretation of characters, i just hate the subconscious assigning of gender roles to bingqiu and how media portrays and fetishizes LGBTQ+ relationships in general.

edit: also i love teardrew's (check them out on twitter!) interpretation of shang qinghua. while i do really like the the eng novel design's tiny scared hamster vibes, teardrew's version just radiates "up to no good, paranoid but suspicious looking bitch" rat man and i love it so so so much. i'm not gonna repost their art bc i don't know how they feel about that but perhaps you can search up "svsss designs" on here, you'll see it pop up eventually lol.

edit 2 (1/16): i just saw someone reblog a post (that im pretty sure was referring to this one because, well, if you saw it i think it'd be a little clear kahxj) that was about how bingqiu switching and completely eschewing traditional top/bottom dynamics was a fandom idea or smth? so now i'm wondering, since i swear i remember that they were open to switching, but it's just that sqq preferred to bottom and/or was just a little too lazy to top. plus, sqq is a pretty unreliable narrator who says he doesn't want something one moment and then he does. how could he say no to bingbing? esp if he seems to wanna try bottoming too. perhaps i'm mixing things up though, idk? so if anyone can find that passage that says he only and strictly wants to bottom or whatever please show me! but i think the point of this post still stands haha (i wanted to ask about it, actually, but when i clicked on the og post's user it turned out that they blocked me ? so that was a little surprising oops. hey if ur somehow reading this, im... sorry for making you want to block me bc of this post? akdhxjj)

#JOIN THE 'STOP TWINKIFYING SQQ' GROUP #did i make sense? i have no clue i just wanted to rant about this #i really pulled a cucumber bro there huh #this also applies to GL #thinking about it more #there should be trans men and women bl and gl #and not in a fetishy way #of course luo binghe is still the big strong protag and taller than sqq but come on #i dont believe luo binghe is a twink exactly?? maybe?? but just feminine in a historical chinese male ideals way #for edit 2:#i was just saying how it made me happy that mxtx didn't follow the yaoi archetypes and how i lov her for it <3 #never said bingqiu was never done before and COMPLETELY flipped it over skdhjx #but i do believe that bingqiu did a good job providing variety and such :)#same goes for mxtx's other works as well i love her stuff sm #svsss #mxtx svsss #the scum villain's self saving system #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #luo bingge #shen yuan #luo bingmei #bingqiu #luo binghe x shen qingqiu #danmei

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carakook · 3 months

Text

Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°

“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”

→ Chapters list ←

⚘4. Spring Is Gone

🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞

╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

⚘Synopsis: After being granted with “closure”, you try to enjoy your last night with Jungkook. It’s an emotional and fucking steamy mess.

⚘Genre:Forbidden love

⚘Word count: 13K+ 🥴

⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of cheating, active cheating, HEAVY smut, mouth spitting, wine kissing (idk if it’s actually called this but it’s what I have always called it LMAO), crying during sex, emotional sex, EMOTIONAL EVERYTHING YOU WILL CRY I AM WARNING YOU, grief, breaking up (sort of?), panic/anxiety attacks, alcohol, stealing (lol it’s kinda cute you’ll see,) making love (different from fucking), sort of rough, unprotected sex (always be careful, Y/N is on BC!), SAD JUNGKOOK I REPEAT SAD JUNGKOOK!!!! let me know if I miss anything there is a lot in this chapter.

⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

⚘A/N: The long awaited chapter. This is a long one. I cried. A lot. Holy shit? It’s actually so sad lol but also has some good smut. This isn’t the last chapter, as I said before this is a full on fanfic, I also have it on Wattpad but it gets barely any reads so if you are interested in that let me know. After this chapter, things get very… drama filled? Idk a good word for it lol. I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry in advance if you cry. I highly recommend listening to the songs, each of them have a place in every chapter which is why I list them lol. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy. Love you.❤️

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :

♪Merry Go - DPR Ian

♪Gimmie Love - Joji

♪The Astronaut - JIN

♪Dope Lovers - DPR Ian

♪sex money feelings die - Lykke Lie

♪Angel - The Weeknd

♪Nerves - DPR Ian

♪505 - Arctic Monkeys

♪I Love You So - The Walters

♪Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex

♪Cry - Cigarettes After Sex

✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧

Since you both agreed on enough of the heavy shit, you spend time together. The mood is heavy for some time, almost awkward, which is why you break out the several bottles of wine you bought this week in an attempt to cope with the end of you and your flower. You’d much rather drink it with him anyway.

You can always buy more.

The wine helps. After you’ve both had a glass, it feels less strained. You continue eating pizza and watching whatever sappy drama is on TV. He picks up on his rant, starts explaining how sex is definitely comparable to pizza; sex creates life, and without sex, we wouldn’t have discovered pizza. Makes total sense. It’s stupid, but he has a point—a very Jungkook thing to think up.

By the time you’re both three glasses deep, you’re a bit wine-drunk. He holds his liquor much better than you do, but you can tell he’s feeling all fuzzy inside. You check your phone as he sits sprawled out on your couch, taking up almost the entire damn thing with his bulky ass. It’s nearly 11:30 pm… around the time he should probably go home.

You glance at him, debating whether to subtly kick him out or not. You don’t want to, god no. It literally makes you sick thinking about it. But you shouldn’t let him stay either, should you? You’re supposed to end this. This was the last night.

But you see how content he looks—like a big, overgrown spoiled dog with a belly full of treats, relaxing next to his favorite person.

You did say one last night… technically the night isn’t over. And he shouldn’t drive in this state, really, if anything, it’s just for his safety…

So you nudge his leg with your foot, and he turns his head lazily towards you, arches a brow, “Hm?”

“Sleep over?”

Oh, he fucking grins. His dimples on show, his eyes crinkling up adorably, and his big bunny like teeth saying hi.

Because what you don’t realize is he wasn’t going to leave. Fuck no. You said one last night, and he was going to milk that for everything it was. No way in hell was he going to go home tonight. If he’s being frank, that’s why he drank three glasses of wine. He didn’t need it. But he knew he could use it as a loophole to staying the night. You wouldn’t let him drive drunk.

He knows damn well what he’s doing, and he’s elated that you offered to let him stay. It means you want him here.

Even after all the bullshit, you still want him here. You want to prolong it, too.

“Hell yeah.”

He winks and then leans up a bit to stretch, causing his shirt to lift and give you the most indulgent peak of his stomach. You shamelessly stare, and he absolutely notices, lifting his arms a bit higher just to give you a better look.

He loves it when you look at him like that.

But then he stands up, casually grabs his car keys from the coffee table, as if he isn’t fucking teasing you.

Fuck. The wine is definitely kicking in. The warm fuzzies in your tummy are spreading elsewhere.

“Gonna go grab some stuff from my car then, make sure it’s locked, I’ll be right back.”

You hum in response and lean back into the couch. Watch him as he walks out the door, and find comfort in the fact that you know he’s coming back… even if it’s the last time.

Jungkook is doing his best not to let his mind wander to the more damning thoughts as he walks out of your complex and into the parking lot. Because he feels the opposite, no comfort at all. His anxiety is spiked now that you’re out of sight. What if you don’t let him in when he makes his way back to you? What if you change your mind about the sleepover? What if you decide you hate him?

Not only that, but he feels like he’s wasting precious time. As if the five minutes he will be away from you (barely) are irreplaceable and he’s just wasting them. It’s literally the end of the world… he shouldn’t be wasting time.

But that’s just his anxiety speaking. In truth, he doesn’t actually need the things in his car… but he packed a few things before showing up unannounced—things he wanted to leave you with.

Such as the little Polaroid camera you bought for him months ago, one that you yourself have used every single time you’re together. You always snap little candid pictures of him, sometimes yourself. He finds your fascination with the thing so fucking cute. He uses it, too, of course. He often takes pictures of you without you even knowing it… and you’ve both definitely taken some more raunchy pictures, pictures that he keeps hidden away in a box for when he misses your touch. For his eyes only. They’re priceless to him, probably some of his most prized possessions.

Speaking of those photos, he also packed a box full of them just for you. Pictures you’ve taken of him, of both of you, of anything and everything. He wants you to have them, wants you to be able to look at them when you miss him a little too much. He went through the photos over the last few days of no contact, greedily picked out his favorites, and put them into his own box for the same purpose. But he picked a generous amount out for you, too.

And as corny as it may sound, he packed a few pieces of his clothing. He knows how much you love stealing his shit, especially his shirts. Several are still missing, but he won’t ask for them back. He’Ll gift you with more, made sure to spray his cologne on them too, so that you can smell him on them. He packed his favorite shirt, hoodie, and something he will reluctantly, but willingly, part with. His denim jacket.

All of them are Calvin Klein branded. The shirt is basic, just a black shirt that’s fitted on him but swallows you whole. It’s the one you often steal when you sleep over at his second apartment, but he never let you take it home because it was his favorite. It’s worn in and soft, that’s why he likes it. But it’s yours now, just like him.

The hoodie is the same, basic black, one that you always tried to steal but never succeeded in doing so. It’ll be like a warm hug when you miss him, he thinks. You’ll love it more than he will. You’ll need it more than him on nights that you feel lonely.

The jean jacket isn’t anything special in appearance. It’s dark denim but is lined in that soft wool that keeps you warm and cozy. He wore it often in the cold months, thought it made him look handsome, but also kept him comfy. He’d rather you have it. He wants to keep you warm forever, hold you in his arms and never let go, make sure you never feel cold again… but he can’t exactly do that. So instead, he’ll give you his jacket.

The last thing is one of his chains. God, he knows you love those damn chains. He almost always wears one, silver or gold, depending on the day. And you always make sure to tell him how much you like them. He never really understood it; it’s something so simple. But you swooned for it. After you guys fuck, you’re always touching it, playing with it. Even when you guys aren’t fucking, you seem to have the impulse to touch it. Maybe it’s a girl thing, he doesn’t know. But he’s giving you one since you liked it so much.

Definitely a girl thing.

He also brought the bottle of perfume you dropped on his floor that night you stormed off… he was going to give it back. Return it to its rightful owner. But as he’s grabbing the bag full of goods out of his car… he impulsively takes it out. Wants to keep it. Wants to be able to smell you, too. He’s sure you won’t miss it.

You won’t miss that perfume as much as he’s going to miss you.

He quickly grabs the bag of stuff, nearly dropping it as he grows more restless because he’s not with you right now. You’re too far away, and every single second counts tonight.

So he rushes back into your complex building, nearly full-on sprinting back to your door.

As he lets himself back in, you’re in the exact same position. Sitting comfy on the couch, eyes on the TV, your wine glass a bit more empty now. Thank fuck.

He wasn’t even gone for more than four minutes. And yes, you did notice, you didn’t like it. But you knew he’d come back. So you waited. Wasn’t a big deal.

He’s just dramatic, for good reason of course. You can see the unease written all over his face as he pads his way back towards you, sets the bag next to your couch. He doesn’t disclose what’s in it and you don’t ask, you just assume it’s the bag he usually keeps in his car for impromptu nights like this.

He doesn’t want to present these little gifts to you yet… because he feels like that’s what’s going to really finalize it. So he’ll wait a little longer.

Would put it off forever if he could.

He takes a seat next to you, obnoxiously close. Your couch isn’t big, but there’s enough for two people to have a comfortable distance from each other. He doesn’t care. He wants to make sure he’s touching you in some way, so he nearly squishes you as he sits down as casually as ever and slings one of his arms on the back of your couch so that his fingertips rest on your shoulder.

He has an almost jittery energy about him right now. Obviously, emotions are heavy; it’s your last night together. It’s kind of hard to act totally ok and normal when you’re both well aware that this is the last night. But even then, somethings a bit off.

You study him for a moment, notice how he’s running his teeth over his lip ring again, how his leg is bouncing up and down a bit even as he tries to mimic a relaxed position on the couch. Maybe he’s anxious?

He is. However, that’s not what this is all about. He wants to kiss and touch you so badly it hurts. But now he’s unsure if he’s allowed. He doesn’t know what’s on and off limits tonight, and he doesn’t want to jeopardize your time together by fucking it up and making unwanted advances.

Overthinking. He wishes he didn’t do that. But he doesn’t even realize it’s happening until after things are said and done, doesn’t know how to stop it.

You assume maybe it’s just nervous energy thanks to the impending sense of doom you both feel. You feel similarly… but you hide it better.

More wine would help, you think.

So you lean forward and grab the bottle which is half empty, this is the second bottle of tonight. You top off each of your glasses as Jungkook watches, and you take a sip.

His eyes stay glued to your lips. He loves your lips. Loves all of you, but especially your lips. He thinks that will be one of the things he misses the most. How soft and pillowy they are, how they’re a bit rosey in color, how they taste, how they pout out a bit when you drink wine, how wine stains your lips so prettily, how they feel wrapped around his—

Yeah. Fuck it. One last night.

“Gimmie some.”

You glance at him and arch a brow, wonder if he’s referring to the wine… or maybe pizza? You literally just topped his wine glass off. He’s being weird.

“I just topped you off?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, I want yours.”

You scoff at him because now he’s just being childish. But he’s looking at you so expectantly, almost stubbornly, as if he’s asking for something more than the wine he’s demanding.

And he is. He doesn’t even really know what though. He’s being greedy, wants your wine because your lips touched the glass, because remnants of your spit might have melted into the wine after taking sips. He doesn’t want his own damn wine.

He wants to be greedy tonight. It’s not like he has anything to lose, he’s already lost it all.

So he reaches over and takes the wine glass from you, gets a bit impatient when he sees you aren’t gonna give it to him right away. He takes a slow sip, places his lips in the same exact spot yours have been every time you’ve taken a drink. It’s ridiculous, really… but he swears he tastes the faintest essence of you on the glass. Closes his eyes, swishes the wine around in his mouth, trying to see if he can taste more of you…

Ok, so, he’s definitely being a bit ridiculous. But fuck, he already feels like he’s going crazy. Can’t really help himself when he is desperately craving any little crumb of you.

You don’t know what to make of this. Part of you is amused, part of you is irritated, because he just stole your damn wine. But you also know there must be more to it, there has to be.

He cracks an eye open, sees you staring at him like he’s crazy, because he kinda is. Only for you, of course. He just swallows the wine and shrugs innocently.

“Yours is better, mine tastes weird.”

You roll your eyes at him because he has the same wine as you do. You can’t figure out what his game is here. So you reach over and take his wine and say, “Yours is literally the same as mine.”

To prove a point you take a sip of his. Just as expected, tastes the exact same as yours. He watches you carefully… gets an idea. An incredibly impulsive,almost intrusive idea.

But again… it’s the last night. And he’s greedy.

You huff at him and point his wine glass (which is now yours apparently) at him as you watch him take a huge gulp out of your glass again.

“Yeah, see, tastes the exact-“

He abruptly grabs the nape of your neck and cups your jaw with his free hand, his thumb coming to rest on your bottom lip and lowering it. He places his lips on yours, waits until your mouth instinctively opens just as it always does for him, and then funnels the wine into your mouth.

Fucking feeding you the wine like a baby bird.

It catches you by surprise at first, causing you to cough a bit and causing the wine to dribble down your chin, but you quickly gulp it down just like he gulps down the little gasp and cough you let out. He kisses you greedily, doesn’t even build up to it before he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth and swirling it against yours, tasting the heady mixture of wine and you. Fuck, you’re his favorite taste.

You don’t protest; of course you don’t. Was definitely a bit bizarre, but also… fuck, that was hot. Was a bit weird but in a super sexy way. You kiss him back, letting out little huffs of air into his mouth as one of your hands also finds the nape of his neck. The other hand automatically rests against his chest, clings to the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You both stay like this as long as possible. The kiss only grows more desperate and aggressive, teeth and tongue clashing beautifully together like thunder and rain. Your soft pants turn into eager breathes at some point, and he knows you need to breathe. But fuck, he wants to stay lip locked with you until he passes out.

This is when you start to second-guess things. Yes, this is the last night together… but knowing it’s ending makes the guilt a bit more prominent. This wouldn’t be ending if it wasn’t wrong, but it is wrong; sleeping with him again just seems so contradictory or maybe even hypocritical.

So you push at his chest lightly, a silent signal for him to slow down. God, he hates the way his stomach lurches. Can’t fathom the idea that you might kick him out right now. Please, god, don’t do this. I’m not a weed, I swear, I’m her fucking flower. I need her one more time, he silently prays even though he’s never been religious or prayed before.

When he pulls back with heavily lidded eyes, you speak up hesitantly, even though you don’t wanna stop, god not at all.

“Kook, we shouldn’t…”

That’s all you say. Because it’s really that simple. You shouldn’t be doing this; you should never have done it at all. But even then, you lack the ability to convince him. Because you want him, one last time. You’re just having a hard time willingly giving in again.

Jungkook knows you well. Knows your body language. He knows that if you truly wanted him to stop, you would’ve been more self assured when speaking. You wouldn’t sound like a meek little mouse, you’d be firm in telling him know. He can see the same thing in your eyes, it’s pure unadulterated want. But maybe you need reassurance, reassurance that one last time is ok, is needed.

You’ve both sinned so much already, one more time won’t change shit.

So his grasp on your jaw firms up a bit, he starts feeling a little too passionate about this. He coaxes your mouth open by smooshing your cheeks a bit before saying,

“Y/N, fucking don’t. Just let us have this, please.”

“But Kook-“

He grunts in frustration. Just as impulsively as he fed you wine kisses, he spits in your mouth. It makes you flinch, makes your pussy clench because fuck it’s so filthy but so hot. So intimate in a sort of fucked up way.

“I said, don’t. Just shut the fuck up and let me have this. Just one more time, please…”

He leans back down and starts kissing you again, licking into your mouth and adding more to the spit he put there moments ago. Doesn’t even give you a chance to protest. He kisses you like he’s going to die if he doesn’t. He’s sure he will. He’ll die a miserable death if he doesn’t love you one more time.

It's a bit harsh, but you know each other enough to know he isn’t trying to be forceful or rude; he’s just desperate. You are too, honestly. You know damn well if you said no and meant it, he would pull away and stop immediately. Your body has always been safest with him. You don’t want to stop, not really. You’re thankful he’s being like this. It’s the push you need to ignore the guilt for a while longer and share your body with him one last time.

When he feels that you’ve melted into him, with no more tension or hesitancy in your body, he pulls away, nipping at your lower lip once and then sucking on it. Then his lips travel down, and he licks the wine staining your chin off before placing sloppy kisses down your neck.

He doesn’t even ask before he starts sucking and licking on your sensitive skin. Not kitten licks, not gentle sucks, no, he’s full-on giving you hickeys, and you know it. You know it’s intentional when you feel him pull back a bit to take a peak, only to lean back in a second later and bite.

The hand on his nape fists into his hair, and your back arches a bit, causing your chest to push against his chest, “Fuck, Kook…”

You should tell him to stop marking you up like this. You don’t like showing up to work or visiting friends with visible hickeys because questions get asked. And as much as you wish you could admit who they’re from, you can’t. No one knows about Jungkook. No one even knows you’re seeing someone right now, and you don’t want to have to come up with some story to cover your ass.

It’s a secret for you too.

But it’s the last night together… and the idea of having his hickeys on your neck, just to remind you a little longer that this was real, he was real, it’s an idea you quite like. Fucking love, actually.

He grunts at you, bites down a little harder, “What? Told you your wine was better…”

You let out a little breathy laugh when he says this, because of course he would play it coy, as if he didn’t just randomly start devouring you. Of course he’d blame it on the damn wine.

That breathy laugh quickly turns into a moan when one of his hands finds your tit, he starts squeezing and groping it through your shirt shamelessly, tweaking your nipple in the way he knows you love. God, he loves your tits. They’re the perfect size for him, he swears. They fit into his palm perfectly, feel like pillows, just like your lips. All of you is just so soft.

He kisses his way down your neck now that it’s all marked up in pretty purple and pink bruises blossoming, much like you do every single time he touches you like this. When he gets to your chest, he looks up at you through his lashes, and then he nearly rips your shirt off of you when he pulls it down.

His eyes leave yours as he looks down at the beautiful pillows on your chest. He just admires them for a moment, as if he’s at an art gallery studying each piece of art. That’s what you are, art. Everything about you inside out is otherworldly beautiful to him, tits included.

At this point, you’re lying down on your couch, legs parted for him. It’s a bit awkward because of how small the couch is, but that doesn’t stop either of you. He doesn’t give a fuck that he barely fits. He’ll make himself fit… just like he’s made himself fit into your life for months.

He wants to fit into your life just one more time, one more night, wants to meld together and tangle your roots so that it’s impossible to untangle them. He knows it’s wishful thinking, but that’s where this is all coming from. He’s not being aggressive and eager and greedy just because he’s horny, no, he’s doing this because maybe, just maybe, if he shows you with his body how much he loves you… how much he needs you… you’ll change your mind one day.

His mouth descends on your left breast, and he starts licking and sucking on your nipple. Your eyes roll back, and your entire body shudders at the sensations, fuck, it always feels like the first time. Before him, men didn’t pay such close attention to your body. Never even had a guy play with your tits before, Jungkook was the first. It was so odd at first, but it quickly became one of your favorite things. Makes you get so wet so fast.

You love how he looks up at you when he does it, his eyes full of asters and stars alike, hearts and moons, lust mixed with love and it’s a dizzying sight. You wonder if this is how you look when you go down on him, if that’s why it unravels him so quickly. You’d understand if so, you wish so badly you could snap a picture of him like this and preserve it.

It’s funny because he’s thinking the same thing. How beautiful you look when he goes down on you, how your eyes mimic his own, and how you have a hard time controlling your facial expressions when the pleasure is too intense. His favorite thing is when you start furrowing your brows and almost pouting at him without realizing it; the little pants and mewls you let out without meaning to, it drives him absolutely insane.

He wants to capture it, too. Fuck, tonight is a night to remember, he wants everything solidified in film. Every single kiss and touch and whisper spoken tonight, he needs to preserve it.

He sucks on your nipple for a few more seconds, his other hand flicking the nipple on your right breast. Wants to get you all worked up for him. he then pulls back, letting go of your tit with a wet pop sound. Lets his hands rest on your thighs and rubs his palms up and down them as he takes you in.

You let out a little whine when he pulls away, but you don’t protest. His pupils dilate heavily as he looks down at you because, holy fuck, you’ve never let him mark you up like this. He doesn’t even like giving hickeys, thinks it’s a bit immature, something meant for college. But seeing you blooming pink and purple from your neck down to your pretty tits? It makes his cock twitch hard in his sweats.

He removes one hand from your thigh, and reaches down to palm himself through his sweats. He squeezes his cock as he takes in your already debauched look. Marked up, tits out, lips swollen, eyes heavy… fuck. You may be what kills him, not heart break.

One last squeeze to his cock to relieve a bit of the pressure, and he lets go of it. He knows you’re getting a bit impatient by how you’re shifting in your spot, but you know he wants to take his time tonight. So you don’t say anything, no matter how much you wanna beg for his dick or his mouth.

He leans over the couch to unzip the bag he brought, grabs the Polaroid, and then readjusts himself between your legs. He sets the camera down on your stomach and brings his hands back to where your thighs are spread prettily for him.

You arch a brow, and he gives you a little smile. He still looks a bit fucked, his eyes black with want and his cock literally tenting his sweats. The smile is much too sweet for what you’re both doing.

“Take as many pictures as you want, there’s a full roll of film in there. Can keep ‘em for when you miss me.”

Now is not the time to cry. Fuck.

You nod at him, grab the camera and keep it close. You wonder if he planned this or if it was a coincidence that it was in his bag. Regardless, you’re thankful. Elated even, that he’s going to let you capture this and preserve it for those nights you doubt he was ever even real. There's no time to be sad now; you can grieve him when he’s gone.

He flicks his tongue over his lip ring as he looks down at you again, there’s so much that he wants to do tonight, but he knows damn well the moment his cock so as much touches you, he’s going to lose control. He needs to lavish you with love and attention first before even thinking of himself.

He grabs the hem of your shirt, gently pulls it over your head. You lay pliant, let him take the lead and do whatever he wants. God, anything for him as long as he keeps looking at you like that, like you’re the reason he breathes.

Next he takes off the pajama shorts you had on, slowly fumbling with them because of the awkward position on the couch. It makes you giggle at him, which makes him giggle at you. Now that you’re both a bit calmed down, not quite as worked up, you realize maybe the couch isn’t the most practical place.

Even then, you take the Polaroid and snap a picture, capturing his bashful smile on camera as he tosses your shorts away. He doesn’t protest; he lets you. Watches as you take the photo it spits out and stare at it lovingly before setting it on the coffee table.

His hands are on your thighs again, and despite the fact you’re nearly butt naked now, his eyes stay steady on your face. He reaches forward, grabs the camera from you, and snaps his photo of you. He focuses the Polaroid specifically on your neck to capture the hickies he left, wants to remember you marked as his. He retrieves the photo after the camera spits it out. He doesn’t look at it yet; just tosses it inside of his bag next to the couch.

At your huff and shy little glare you send him, he chuckles, hands you back the camera, and before you can scold him, he lightly swats your thigh. Then he gets off the couch and picks you up bridal style.

It’s hard to be mad at him when he makes you feel like a princess. You don’t actually mind that he took the picture, as embarrassing as it feels. You know it’ll be for his eyes only.

He easily carries you into your bedroom, kicks the door open, and deposits you on your bed. Wasted no time before he’s taking off his shirt and sweats, and fuck, you swear he’s a Greek god. Perfect, in every way. You could drool every damn time you see any bit of his skin. His broad shoulders, his tiny waist, his subtle and toned thighs, it’s a lethal combination. Any woman who sees him like this surely could keel over at how beautiful he is, how sexy he is.

He gets on the bed with you, and you set the camera on the pillow next to your head. He settles between your thighs once more. He can feel himself starting to get impatient now that you’re both in only your underwear; his cock is still hard. Only getting harder as he stares down at you, looking at how pretty you look with your hard nipples glistening with his spit and your soft thighs spread just for him.

He descends, placing open-mouthed kisses on your tummy. Your hands come to rest in his hair as they’ve done many times because you know you’ll need to hang on. You know where this leads, and anytime he eats you out, it’s an out-of-body experience. The things this man’s mouth can do are unholy, but still feel like heaven.

His eyes stay on you as he kisses his way down to your thighs. He nips at them lightly, causing you to whine. He covers your lower half in kisses, not missing a single ounce of your skin as he lavishes your inner thighs with sweet little declarations of love that just aren’t enough.

You lift your hips ever so slightly, tug on his hair a bit, send him a silent message that says please fucking put your mouth on me before I explode.

He smirks against your skin, looks up at you as he trails his lips upward, “Just feel it, baby, let me love on you.”

You want to roll your eyes at this, but don’t say anything. Just try to regulate your breathing. You know he’s wanting to savor it, savor you. He has every right to.

But he knows what you need; can tell by the way you’re scratching his scalp that you’re itching to feel his mouth on you. And if he’s being honest, he’s growing a bit impatient, too.

So he finally trails his lips past your thighs, onto the mound of your cunt which is still covered by your panties. The moment he sees the wet spot seeping through, smells your arousal, his patience disappears. Suddenly, he’s fucking starving.

He doesn’t even take your panties off before he starts kissing your cunt, sucking on your clit through the fabric. The feeling makes your body nearly jolt, your hips bucking into his face as you tug on his hair and let out an incredibly strained moan. Fuck. So much for taking it slow and dragging it out.

He becomes a man possessed once he tastes you. He’s letting out grunts as he borderline makes out with your panties, suckling the fabric to get every drop of your essence off of them and onto his tongue. It’s genuinely filthy, debauched, but god, it’s hot.

He leans back with flared nostrils and glistening lips, looking like he’s wearing lipgloss. Made specially by you, of course. He nearly rips your panties off and throws them into the pile containing his clothes at the end of the bed.

A coincidence, he tells himself. He’s totally not planning on ‘accidentally’ taking them home with him… not at all.

He leans back down, grabs your thighs, and props them over his shoulders as he maneuvers himself to lay flat on his stomach on the bed, his knees keeping him steady as he presses his face into your pussy.

He inhales you, takes in your scent. So musky and pretty, so uniquely you. He wishes he could bottle it up and wear it as a fucking cologne. He rubs his nose around in it, nudging your clit back and forth, almost as if he’s motor-boating you but instead of your tits, it’s your cunt.

God, it’s lewd. But he can’t get enough.

You already feel yourself becoming a little too turned on but wanna capture this moment. Wanna preserve how fucked he looks when he does shit like this, only ever for you. So you grab the Polaroid with one shakey hand that leaves his hair, and you snap a quick photo. It comes out a bit blurry, but you don’t mind. You place the camera back on the pillow alongside the fresh photo and have to double down on gripping his hair because, holy fuck, this feels so good.

His tongue finds your entrance and starts licking inside, trying to get every last drop of your cream greedily into his mouth. He uses his nose to stimulate your clit, one of the perks of having a big nose. He’s grunting as he licks into your cunt, almost sounds feral doing so. He doesn't even recognize his own voice with the damn noises he's making.

As much as you don’t want to admit it, watching this all unfold has you dangerously close already. Your thighs are quivering on his shoulders, and your toes are curling along his back. The way he’s breathing into your pussy, sucking and licking and nudging it with his nose, fuck, it has you a mess. The noises you’re making you can’t control; you’re starting to sound just as feral as him.

“Mmmph… Koo… gonna cum soon, slow down…”

You babble at him. You wanna cum so bad, but you also don’t want it to stop so soon. If you had one wish at this very moment, it would be that he does this forever. He looks so lovely in between your thighs, licking and sucking you up as if it’s his last meal.

Because it is his last meal. After this night, he’s gonna be starving for eternity without you.

He huffs out a little laugh against your clit, the hot air causing your back to arch and fingers to tighten in his hair; if he doesn’t ease up, your thighs are surely going to crush his damn head.

“Cum then. Fucking give it to me, Y/N. Let me earn it.”

He nearly growls at you before he dives back in with renewed vigor. He replaces his tongue, which was deep in your cunt, with his fingers. He uses his mouth now to suck on your clit. As you look down at him, you’d swear he was kissing it, making out with it, making love with his fucking mouth. The added pressure of two of his long fingers crooking inside of you is quickly bringing you to your end.

But what nearly makes you cum on the spot is the way he starts fucking humping the bed. Acting like a virgin humping a pillow, he moves his hips back and forth on the mattress just for some sort of stimulation to his cock because it started getting so hard it was damn near painful.

He knows how desperate he looks but doesn’t care. Clearly, you enjoy it, judging by the way you start panting, and your pussy starts pulsating and tightening around his fingers. They fuck into you harder, rubbing up against the spongy flesh inside, all while he makes out with your clit.

His eyes open to meet yours, and you’re done for. Seeing that desperation and love in his eyes mixed with the fact he’s fucking humping your bed makes your pussy throb. You begin cumming hard, tugging on his hair as your thighs clasp around his head. He damn near whines into your cunt, the noise only causing vibrations to make it so much more intense for you.

“Nnngh oh shit! Fuck, oh fuck Koo… oh my god, shiiit…”

Your hips buck up into his mouth eagerly; you can’t even control it. Your feet planted on his back, toes curling, thighs trembling around his face, and your face scrunched up in pleasure. You see stars- no- you see an entire fucking galaxy as you cum all over his face. Full of stars, moons, planets, gardens, all of which are full of him and every single fiber of his being.

All for him, just as he is all for you.

He fucks you through it, does his best to prolong it, but he knows he’ll make you cum again on his cock. He is aching to be buried inside of you. He wants to make love to you, not fuck you, he wants to meld your bodies together and become one tonight.

After what feels like forever, your body relaxes, and the spasming of your clit dies down, causing it to become sensitive. He can tell by the way your legs shake and your body jolts when he applies too much pressure with his tongue.

He reluctantly pulls back, licking your juices off of his lips before placing little kisses all over your thighs and pelvis. He looks fucked, his nose and his lips are glistening obscenely in the dim lighting, and his eyes don’t look brown anymore but black.

When your eyes travel downward, you whine at him. His cock is nearly tearing through his underwear, which you now realize he’s wearing your fav, the purple CK’s. There’s a little stain where the head of his cock presses, so much precum, all for you.

He looks down where your eyes are trained, and he snorts at himself. Jesus fuck, he really is acting like a desperate teenager, isn’t he? But he can’t find himself giving a shit. He wants you to know how desperate and unhinged you make him. He can’t say he’s ever been so horny he borderline fucked a mattress, not until now. And it’s all because of you.

He takes off his underwear with shaky hands and tosses them somewhere in your room. Then he settles between your legs again, rubbing up and down your thighs as he takes you in as if it’s the first time.

Your hands come up to his chest, scraping your nails down it slowly, which earns you the most beautiful groan from his lips. He bites down on them, and his cock jumps upward, begging to be touched. So you trail your hands lower until you find his aching length and take it into your hand, start stroking him lazily.

His breathing becomes labored, and his eyes flutter shut. Even just your hand feels so fucking good. His hips jerk forward, seeking more stimulation. Fuck, he can’t get enough.

One of his hands remains on your thigh while the other reaches for the camera. He boldly angles it directly at your cunt, snaps a photo of it, making sure to capture the way your slick folds glisten in the light, along with all of the purple flowers blossoming on your thighs. His tattooed hand is barely in the shot but is visible enough to make it clear it is him in this photo.

He tosses the photo in the same pile his clothes and your panties lay next to the bed, and then angles the camera towards your face and body to take another. He thinks you’re so pretty like this. Cheeks flushed, lips puffy because you always bite them right before you cum, eyes bright with afterglow. You look like an Angel, especially in this moment.

He’s sure you’re an Angel sent from the God he doesn't even believe in.

He snaps another photo and tries to steady his shaky hands because the way you’re stroking his cock feels borderline painful. Too slow; he needs more. Beads of precum drip down his cock as if it’s crying. It may as well be crying for you.

He quickly takes the photo, tosses it in the same pile, and then does the same with the camera without thinking. Is getting way too worked up with how you’re stroking his dick and looking at him like a Greek god.

Because he is one. You’ll say it time and time again.

He leans over your body and settles in between your legs. You remove your hand and wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your fingers in his hair again. He grinds his cock onto your pussy, coating it in the remnants of your cum and juices, and starts kissing you slowly.

The kiss isn’t like the one with wine; this one is sweet, loving, still desperate, but more patient. His lips work with you in unison, your puzzle pieces coming together once more. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it makes you moan into his mouth, which causes his cock to twitch against your pussy. God, he loves the sounds that you make. Music to his ears, he’d play it on repeat if he could.

He slowly drags the tip of his cock down to your entrance which is well prepared for him, and even more slowly starts thrusting inside of you. He wants to feel you deeply, feel every ripple and ridge of your pussy, every pulse and throb. He wants to catalog it and replay it over and over in his head for when he misses you.

Jungkook is definitely gifted when it comes to his manhood. It’s not too long, a good seven and a half inches, but fuck he’s so girthy. When you first fucked him, you could barely handle how thick he was. Nowadays, you can absolutely handle it, but that first push always gets you fucking squirming. The pressure and stretch are nothing like you’ve ever felt before.

You let out a stuttered gasp into his mouth when he buries himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your ass, and he stays there for a moment so that you can adjust. You break the kiss, wincing a bit as you turn your face to try and hide the way it scrunches up as it always does the first few moments he’s inside of you.

He doesn’t like that. Not at all.

He pulls his face back from yours and steadies himself on his elbow as one of his hands comes up to grip your jaw. He turns your face towards him, doesn’t let you look away or try to hide.

“Uh-uh, you look at me when I fuck you. I wanna see every single detail of your pretty face if this is the last time I get you like this.”

You whine at him, your eyes fluttering shut and cheeks warming. For some reason, that’s embarrassing, like being called out for talking in class or some shit. But even then, your pussy clenches around his cock, because you love it when he takes control like that, when he makes it clear what he wants.

He shakes your jaw a bit when he notices you closing your eyes, causing them to open instinctively. He looks just as fucked as you do, his nostrils are flared, and he’s sweating slightly, clearly holding back.

“Eyes on me, Y/N. Don’t you fucking dare look away. Look me in my eyes while I make love to you.”

Fuck. It takes every single bit of strength you possess not to cry. There he goes, voicing the fact that tonight isn’t going to be some hard fuck. It’s making love.

That terrifies you.

Making love is something entirely different compared to fucking. Some people disagree, but you don’t. Fucking is mindless, meant for pleasure and pleasure alone. Sometimes, there's intimacy after, but it’s mostly just sex. Making love, of course, comes with pleasure, but that’s not its purpose. Its purpose is to come together with your partner, show each other how much you love them, let all of your emotions run wild and free while sharing the most intimate parts of your body together.

Fucking is like buying a bouquet of roses. You get to see them, water them, keep them on display, but the joy dies quickly because the roses die, too.

Making love is like growing a garden of roses. You can’t make love until you grow that love with someone; nurture it, watch it morph and evolve. And then the flowers bloom. The love bursts, the petals are vibrant in colors made up of you and your partner.

Both are lovely. Everyone loves buying a bouquet of roses, but few get to experience growing their own.

You’ve never made love. Tonight will be the first time.

And it will probably be the last.

You nod at Jungkook stupidly, keeping your eyes on his just as he asked you to. Once he sees your eyes remaining on him, he starts slowly moving his hips. His cock slides in and out of you, your arousal can clearly be heard by the noises your cream coating his cock every time he slides in and out makes. It’s beautiful.

This is beautiful… and so goddamn tragic.

He’s also fighting tears. Because, unlike you, he has made love before… or thought he did. He swore on his wedding night he made love to his wife, but it was nothing like this. You’ve barely even started, and he can feel the stark difference. God, it makes him question fucking everything. He never felt this way with his wife, with anyone, only ever with you.

But now isn’t the time to think of such things, to dissect the fact that maybe what he had with his wife was never actually love, but comfort. Now is the time to share your love together, one last time.

He starts moving his hips a bit faster. His arms reach under your body and wrap around you, trying to get as close as humanly possible. He rests his forehead on yours, keeps his eyes on yours, too. He starts panting, is fighting back tears. He is trying so hard not to cry right now.

“I love you.”

Fuck.

You let out another stuttered breath, and then your breathing picks up entirely as you fight back tears. Your arms are wrapped around him now, nails digging into his back like you’re afraid he will float away. Because you are, you’re so scared that if you let go, he will disappear. You don’t want him to disappear.

He starts pounding a bit deeper, grunting with each deep thrust as he grits out again,

“I love you.”

Fuck he needs to stop.

“Jungkook— nngh… don’t…”

He shakes his head, his breathing heavier, and his thrusts bordering on aggressive now. That’s not abnormal for him; sex with you both is regularly rough. But this is so different. It isn’t the dominating kind of aggressive but desperate, full of passion and love and grief.

“No, Y/N, look at me. I love you. I fucking love you so much, Y/N. I love you.”

And you break.

Crying for you also isn’t abnormal during sex with him specifically. It’s always intense, so sometimes you cry. Not out of sadness or pain; it just happens sometimes. He came to learn that quickly.

But just like how he’s making love to you, these tears are different. You’re weeping for the loss of your lover, but also because you are still so full of love for him. You’re crying because for the first time since this mess started between you, you believe him when he says he loves you. Deep down in your core, in every single crack and crevice of your being, you feel his love for you.

You see it in his eyes as he looks at you, you feel it in the way he touches and kisses you, you hear it in the way he speaks to you when he says it. He loves you so fucking much, and you regret refusing to see it until your last night together. You wish so badly you could have savored his love more seriously rather than deny yourself of it.

You wish things were different.

So you cry for him. The moment the first tear falls, you don’t hold back. You let out something between a moan and a sob as he fucks his cock into you, and his hips stutter when he realizes you’re crying. He didn’t want you to cry, fuck, he doesn’t think he can handle that right now without crying himself. He just wanted you to know, needed you to know that you are loved by him. So fucking loved.

He keeps his eyes on yours, watches the tears fall. He tilts his head slightly and starts kissing the tears away, even as they continue to fall. Greedily kisses them away because they are for him. This will be the last time you water his fully bloomed flower, so he will be greedy. Because he knows that after this, his flower will wilt away, maybe he will, too. So he lets you cry and he kisses and fucks you through it.

He feels himself getting close, his cock starting to twitch and his hips grinding harder into your pelvis. He feels you getting close, too, the way your cunt starts pulsing in rhythm with his cock. You’ve never come at the same time before. He hopes that tonight, he can make it happen.

“Fuck, you feel like home… I love you so much…”

A strangled sob escapes your throat at his words. It’s like he can’t stop saying it, can’t get the words out of his mouth enough. You’ve yet to say it back because you’re afraid his glittery eyes will water, too. But god, you need him to know.

“I love you too, Koo… more than anything…”

And you were right. Hearing you say it amidst your tears, combined with the way your pussy starts rippling around his cock, throbbing and clenching directly after you say it, it’s too much.

He cries. Tries to hide it with a moan, but it’s no use because his tears fall onto your cheeks. You both start crying harder, and he starts fucking you faster. His arms tighten around your waist, and he starts kissing you. Lets you taste your melded tears, his sorrow, his devotion, his love all poured out into this kiss and his tears.

You both water each others flower for the last time.

You feel the familiar pressure building as you kiss him back, your tears mixing with his, the taste addicting. You hate seeing him cry; you know it’s going to haunt you for weeks. But right now, you’re consumed with wanting to be as close to him as possible, and you want to share this moment with him.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and your hips start matching his thrusts. The kiss turns a bit sloppy and uncoordinated because he’s very clearly about to cum; you can feel his cock start twitching and pulsing aggressively inside of you.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you. I. Love. You.”

He groans loudly, his voice sounds strained and distraught. “Come with me.”

You assume he means he wants you to cum at the same time as him. He wants you to cum together, which is definitely going to happen; you feel the string about to snap on both sides.

But really, it had dual meaning. Cum with me, but also come with me. Anywhere, everywhere, please run away with me, please love me forever and ever, please save a piece of your heart for me, please don’t stay away from me forever.

One last thrust and his pelvis grinds into yours as his balls draw up taught. He whimpers into your mouth, and his pelvis grinding into you, mixed with how fucking deep his cock is inside of you, is enough stimulation to your clit to cause you to hurl over the edge a second time. You cream all over his dick, your hips writhing beneath him as you whine and moan into his mouth. His cock jerks hard inside of you, shooting hot ropes of cum that seem endless. Your souls meld together much like your tears do, and you both cum harder than you ever have.

It’s like, in this moment, you are one. You both share a garden, flowers at full bloom, no pesky cages or fences to hinder you from flourishing together. There’s sunlight, and bees, and soil, and plenty of water. It’s peaceful, it’s heaven, it’s home. It’s where you both swear you belong.

Both of your orgasms seem to last eternally. It’s endless, his cock jerking and spurting in rhythm to the way your pussy milks him and pulses around him. He stays buried to the hilt until his cock tires out and your pussy stops milking him.

Even after, he stays like this. You both say nothing as you silently cry together, still connected intimately as you share little kisses between tears.

You made love. He made love to you.

You know damn well you’re ruined for any other man going forward after that.

He exhales a shaky breath and starts peppering your face with little kisses. Despite the tears, he feels lighter than before. There’s still that impending sense of doom, but he knows in his heart that you know he loves you now. That’s all he wanted from tonight…

And despite the sex being pretty vanilla compared to what you usually do, Jesus fuck, that was the best sex he’s ever had.

As he attempts to kiss all of your tears away, he starts whispering the sweetest shit to you, even as he continues crying.

“My baby…”

Kiss.

“My love…”

Kiss.

“My pretty girl…”

Kiss.

“My angel…”

Kiss.

“My heart…”

Kiss.

“My soul…”

Kiss.

“My fucking everything…”

Kiss, kiss, kiss.

Fuck, it makes you swoon hearing all of those sweet words. Not sweet nothings, but sweet declarations. Pure truth. You are and have been his everything despite how fucked up it all is.

You always will be. Fucking always.

You cry a bit harder, nearly blubbering now. He keeps crying, too, not quite as hard as you because he doesn’t want this to be harder for you than it already is… but he knows the moment he leaves you in the morning, he will cry twice as hard.

You realize you’re still clinging to him; there are definitely going to be red marks all over his back. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, keeping him buried inside of you because that’s where you swear he belongs. He would agree with you.

But you remove your hands from his back and bring them to cup his face, and you feel so fucking drained from the intense sex and crying and the entire goddamn rollercoaster of today… but you don’t want it to end. Fuck, you’re so afraid for it to end.

You place a soft kiss on his lips, “I love you. I really do. Always have, always will, forever and ever…”

He smiles sadly down at you, nods. Because he knows. He never once doubted how much you loved him; every single time he was with you, he felt your love. Even when you were mad at him, you made him feel loved. He wishes so badly that he could’ve made you feel as secure as you made him feel.

You will never know how utterly thankful for you he is.

“I know baby, I know…”

You let out another choked sob and bury your face in his neck. He lifts himself off of you slightly, and he moves himself so that he’s lying beside you instead of on top of you. You cling to him again, refuse to let him go. Can’t. Won’t. Don’t want to. Can’t fucking bear it.

He gently slips his cock out of you and then wraps his arms around you, one hand coming to cup the back of your head and stroke his fingers through your hair, the other rubbing your back soothingly.

You cry and cry and cry. It’s pitiful how hard you’re crying; if anyone saw you right now, they’d be certain someone had died. It really feels that way, as if he’s dying while holding you right now. He feels like he’s dying watching you crumble like this, but he doesn’t dare stop you.

He doesn’t even reassure you because all that would do is give you false hope for something that may not happen ever again. For all you know, after this, you will never cross paths. He may just become a ghost to you…

A flower that bloomed in the spring and died come winter.

There were so many things you wanted to do tonight. You wanted to shower together, wash his hair for him, show him how to bake those cookies you know he loves, stay up and talk about a bunch of pointless shit, rewatch your favorite movies together, fuck a few more times, choke on his dick one last time, kiss him and touch him all over all night. So so so much more.

You didn’t want to stop here. You wanted to stay awake and savor every last second together just as greedily as him. But god, as you sob in his arms, you feel yourself growing so heavy with exhaustion that you can’t keep your eyes open.

“Don’t let me fall asleep, Koo, make me stay awake…”

He buries his face in your hair, his tears making wet patches in your strands. He inhales deeply just to get another whiff of your shampoo, fuck, he needs to figure out which one it is before he leaves so he can buy it and use it. Doesn’t even care if it’s weird. Wants to smell like you. Wants to be surrounded by reminders of you forever.

Like you, he’s been crying this whole time but so quiet that you don’t even realize it. He made sure you wouldn’t realize it. This is your time to get comfort from him, he can’t offer you reassurance, but he damn sure can comfort you through the pain that is his fault.

“Rest, baby… I’m here…”

You shake your head at him, keep your face buried in his neck even as your eyes start to lull shut.

“No, slap me, keep me awake… don’t wanna… sleep… please…”

He can feel your body start to go limp, can feel your tears running down his neck. He knows you’ll be out cold soon. You were fighting a battle you just couldn’t win, and god he wishes he could keep you awake. But he knows you’re emotionally overloaded right now…

And maybe if you fall asleep in his arms, you’ll rest peacefully for tonight. You deserve that, he thinks. You deserve so much peace and happiness.

“It’s ok Y/N… I got you. Just sleep. My baby needs rest, hm?”

You try so fucking hard to respond. But he’s right; you’re fighting a losing battle. Your body can’t keep up with your brain to the point you’re slurring your words. Maybe it’s the after-effects of a fight or flight response because it really felt like you were fighting for your love when making love tonight… fighting to keep hold of his roots as they slowly became untwined from yours. And now, you’re simply too tired.

“I… I love you… so… much…”

He lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes. Holds you a little tighter. Because, fuck, your last words before lulling into a deep sleep were that you loved him. It’s as it should be, but for some reason, it wrecks him, knowing that this is the last time he will hear them.

When your breathing evens out, he pulls back, stares at you. Your brows are furrowed even in sleep, clearly troubled. But you don’t stir and your grip on him loosens. You are so fucking beautiful. He wishes so badly he could just stay like this, watching you rest, in your arms while you’re in his.

Holding each other, as if you’re both one person instead of two.

He knows he won’t sleep tonight. He’s just as overwhelmed as you, but instead of his body shutting down, his adrenaline has spiked. He’s dreading leaving this bed, dreading leaving you.

He stares for an almost pathetic amount of time. Just lays beside you and takes in every soft detail of your face, traces his fingertips over your features. He finds himself wondering, what if he married you instead? What if you met sooner? What if you lived with him and had his babies one day?

What if… he left his wife?

He has to stop himself there. He makes a pained noise and buries his face in your hair again because he knows he can’t think like that. He could leave his wife; he probably should, but he feels like he owes her his life, his devotion. He married her, for fucks sake.

And even if he did leave, he doubts you’d ever be capable of having a healthy and stable relationship. People in these situations rarely do; it’s a form of karma, he thinks. Husbands who cheat and marry their mistresses often get cheated on, or they end up do it again.

He swears, fucking swears on his life that he would never do that to you. But he knows you probably wouldn’t trust him; any woman in your situation wouldn’t. You’d always be left wondering if he’d turn around and do the same to you one day.

Oh, Jungkook, how badly you’ve fucked up…

He has no idea how much time has passed by the time he checks the little alarm clock on your bedside table. He honestly can’t recall when he got here or what time ‘one more night’ started, but as of now, it’s 5 am.

He wants to stay. Wants to fall asleep holding you, wake up and make you breakfast, draw you a cozy bath and massage your back for you… wants to treat you as a lover would.

But he knows that if he doesn’t leave soon, he won’t leave at all. The moment you open your eyes, he will beg again. He will cry and beg and plead for you to change your mind.

Which is way too selfish, considering he’s still a coward, still unwilling to leave his wife both out of fear and knowing the reality of what happens once he does.

So he places one last kiss on your forehead, breathes you in one last time, and then quietly extracts himself from your hold. Standing up and getting off the bed, he looks down at you.

He swears he can see the exact place you keep his stolen heart inside of you. He doesn’t want it anymore, it’s yours. Always will be.

He slowly starts dressing himself again with robotic-like motions. He isn’t crying anymore; he feels kind of numb at this point, or maybe his tears have just run out.

Acceptance? Or the calm before the storm? He isn’t sure.

He doesn’t bother taking a shower; can’t be bothered right now even if he smells like sex… smells like your sex specifically. He can blame it on being lazy, but he knows it’s because he wants your smell to linger a bit longer. He will shower later.

Once fully dressed he pads his way into the living room, grabs the bag full of stuff he packed for you. He takes it back into your bedroom and sits it at the end of the bed.

He carefully collects each Polaroid he took of you for himself and stuffs them in his wallet for safekeeping. After nearly considering changing his mind and taking the camera greedily, he decides he’ll leave it for you, even though it was a gift you got him. He knows you love it, but also knows you’d never buy one for yourself. And if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t think he could ever use it again without thinking of you. It would feel wrong to use it without you.

So he sets that on the end of the bed. He opens the bag, carefully takes out the clothing he packed for you, folds them, and arranges them in a neat pile. Next, he takes out the box of Polaroids; he made sure to put a label on it before coming that said ‘For Y/N.’ He sets the box next to the clothes and then carefully places the chain he packed on top of the pile of clothes.

He wants to arrange it almost as a surprise, hoping it’ll feel more like a gift and not so much like a goodbye this way.

Now that the bag is empty, his intrusive thoughts return. He wants so badly to turn into a little thief and take some of your stuff, too. You would have gladly offered it to him, anything he wanted, but you’re asleep. And he can’t stay much longer.

His intrusive thoughts win, and he can’t find himself feeling too guilty.

So he reaches down and grabs the panties you had on earlier, the same panties that he sucked on like a damn popsicle, and he puts them in the bag.

He quietly makes his way into your bathroom, looks around for a moment until he finds exactly what he’s looking for: the star pimple patches. He takes them, noticing that they’re in a cute little case with a face on it. He knows you love these things; they make pimples feel less like some kind of imperfection. He loves them, too. They remind him of a time when you showered him with love.

You won’t miss them, he thinks again. Not as much as he’ll miss you.

He greedily holds onto them, looks around to see if there’s anything else he can steal. He sees your scarf hanging on the back of your bathroom door; it was the scarf you wore one of the first times he took you to dinner. It’s honestly kind of ugly; it’s a dark and muted plaid, but you loved it because of how soft and warm it is.

It smells very strongly of you.

It’s his now.

He takes the scarf and decides that’s enough. He’s greedy, but he’s not an actual thief. Maybe more like a rat. As much as he wants to steal your shampoo, he decides just to make a mental note of the name because he knows you'll need it to shower when you wake up.

He stuffs the patches and scarf into the same bag and stands before you on the bed. Fuck. He doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to leave you.

But now is the perfect time; you’re sleeping soundly, dead to the world. If he leaves like this, there will be no hysterical begging or crying from either party.

Still, he finds himself procrastinating. He decides to open the box of Polaroid photos he packed just to make sure none of the ones he kept for himself snuck their way in. They didn’t. He knows they didn’t. But never hurts to double-check.

He comes across one photo in particular… it was a photo he took one night after you both had some very intense sex. He rented a motel that night because he was in Busan for business, and of course, he dragged you along with him. Busan is his hometown, and his wife has always hated it. She was born and raised in Seoul and always claims Busan is too boring, not lively enough. She always refused to go with him, even if it was to visit his parents.

You, on the other hand, you were so fucking excited to go. You talked his ear off the entire ride there, and once you arrived, you were so interested in everything around you. It was so fucking sweet because you told him the reason you were so excited was because it was a part of him. He was born here, which makes the place sacred. It was dramatic, but god, it was precious.

After you guys fucked that night, you both showered together. You got out of the shower before him, and you snapped a few pictures with the Polaroid; he made sure to put those in the box for you. At some point after, you were lying in the bed watching some cartoon on the motel TV, and he was smoking a cigarette. He noticed a vivid handprint from where he was slapping your ass while fucking you from behind. It was the first time he wasn’t really concerned about it, but proud. Because in some fucked up way, he marked you, even if it was temporary. You were his, and even if you doubted it, he was yours.

It was the same feeling he got tonight when giving you those hickeys. Just a little reassurance that you belong to him.

He took the photo to kind of solidify the feeling, preserve it. It was very aesthetically pleasing. One of his favorites, he’s realizing. He almost wants to take this one.

But instead, he decides to leave it with you, and before he does so he grabs a pin from your desk and writes:

I won’t let you forget us

-Kook

It’s cryptic, he knows. Maybe it’s selfish to leave a message like that… but perhaps it’ll keep you open for him. Not that he expects you to wait for him to get his shit together, god never. But maybe you’ll allow him to check on you now and then, maybe you won’t block his number, maybe, just maybe, you’ll save a piece of your heart for him…

He sets the photo down on top of the pile of folded clothes and steps back. He looks at the clock again, sees that it’s now 5:50 am. He has no idea how time passed that quickly because it only felt like maybe ten minutes had passed. He must have been moving slowly; his brain must have realized how much he was fighting this inevitable end.

As he stares down at your sleeping form, he genuinely considers staying. Considers refusing to leave.

And that’s exactly why he chooses this moment to leave. He has to get the fuck out of here before he does something stupid.

He walks over to you once more, leans down, and places a kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, then your chin, and starts peppering your face with kisses all over again. His heart is pounding fast, and he has the urge to run. With one last kiss to your lips, he yanks himself away and grabs the bag now full of items that don’t belong to him.

He wants to take in your space one last time, wants to linger and look around because this has been his safe space for literal months. But he fucking can’t. He feels his resolve weakening quickly by the second and knows one more second here, and he won’t leave.

He quickly makes his way out of your apartment, is nearly panting as he walks out of your complex and down to his car. His hands are shaking, his heart is beating at a scary pace, and he starts to feel fucking sick.

He borderline throws the bag in his back seat, and then gets into his car quickly. His hands shake so severely that he fumbles with his keys as he starts the engine. The moment the car turns on, he’s peeling out of the parking lot.

It wasn’t acceptance. It was indeed the calm before the storm.

He’s never felt like this before. He feels nauseous and almost panicky as he drives robotically down the morning streets of Seoul. His breathing is coming in so fast he gets dizzy.

It all hits him at once. This is the end. FIN. Over.

He swears he feels his flower die at that very moment. It wasn’t uprooted and moved to another garden; someone fucking stepped on his fully bloomed Bearded Iris. One second he was thriving, flourishing, and now he’s fucking dead.

He doesn’t even recognize the sounds of his own choked sobs as he drives down the street. He can’t breathe. He can’t fucking see. He feels like he’s dying, truly, he almost considers calling for help because he feels so full of despair and grief.

But who would he call? His wife? That's a fucking joke. You? He can't call you anymore. He can't call his friends either because none of them know. He's on his fucking own now.

Nothing could have prepared him for what it feels like to grieve the death of a love who is still alive.

He ends up pulling into a random parking lot once he’s a safe distance from your apartment. He slams his palms on his steering wheel and just fucking bawls. Tears fog his eyes, and he sounds almost childish because of the force in which he’s crying.

He knew the day he lost you would be the day that that he died. And right now, he is dying for you.

It isn’t until 10 am that you stir awake. You instinctively reach for him, but your hands only find cold sheets, meaning he left a while ago…

You didn’t expect him to leave so soon. You expected to be able to wake up to him one last time, so you’re disappointed when you realize his clothes aren’t on the floor anymore, and you don’t hear the sounds of him awake and making coffee in the kitchen.

But you suppose that was a smart move. If he had stayed, it would have just made it harder for you both, most likely.

You feel oddly… numb. As of now, no sadness. The only thing you feel is almost like a little zap in your chest; it’s subtle, to the point you aren’t even sure if it’s really there.

It’s off. Somethings not quite right.

You ignore the weird hollow feeling as you sit up and stretch; you realize you never showered, and you smell heavily of sex. So you get out of bed, and you make your way into your bathroom. You start the shower after using the bathroom, and as you wait to warm it up, you look at yourself in the mirror.

Fuck.

You are literally littered with marks. Your neck, all the way down to your chest, all the way down to your thighs. Purple and pink love bites all over you. He seriously fucked you up.

You feel that zap again.

You shake your head and tear your eyes away from the mirror, don’t notice how your star patches are missing from your skincare tub on your bathroom counter yet. You step inside the shower and spend a good while letting the hot water wash over your body, washing the remnants of sex and sweat off of your skin.

After about half an hour, you step out. Dry off. Get dressed. That’s when you walk back into your bedroom and notice the pile of clothing sitting on your bed. Clothing that isn’t yours.

You slowly approach it and quickly recognize the strong scent lingering on it: his cologne. You unhurriedly pick up each piece of clothing, see the shirt and hoodie you often attempted to steal from him, accompanied by one of his favorite jackets.

He left pieces of himself for you.

Zap.

You set them aside and pick up the chain and photo. Fuck, you love his chains. You always loved them because, one, they’re fucking hot, and two, you loved how they would dangle above you when he was fucking you. You doubt he realized it, but sometimes you’d bite it as he was fucking you, tug on it like a damn dog playing with their favorite chew toy just to see if it would break. It never did, and you never stopped being fascinated with his jewelry.

Zap.

You look at the photo and immediately recall the memory. Busan, now one of your favorite places, all because of him. It was such a good little trip. You tried a lot of street food you never had before, saw a lot of pretty things, and he fucked you beautifully that night. It was rough, passionate, and he left hand prints on your ass, and much like him, you loved it. This was one of your favorites, for sure.

But then you read the note.

I won’t let you forget us.

Zap. Zap. Zap.

You drop the photo and the chain on top of the clothes, let out a shaky breathe. Still, you aren’t really feeling much, maybe a bit of nostalgia accompanying the zaps… but no despair, no yearning or grieving…

Calm before the storm.

You decide you need some coffee and painkillers. You have a lingering migraine from all of the wine and crying last night, so you leave your bedroom and make your way into the kitchen.

You start making your coffee and swallow the painkillers dry. You lean against the counter as your coffee brews, then freeze when you look at the floor.

The purple wild flower lays there, stepped on by he-who-shall-not-be-named’s boot. Wilted and destroyed, the petals disconnected from the stem.

The flower is dead.

And now you break.

Those zaps you were feeling, you suddenly understand. It was your fight or flight kicking in again, and instead of your brain responding to it, it blocked it out.

Can’t fight it now.

You drop to your knees, start breathing heavily because you feel like someone placed bricks on your chest. Your heart aches, literally, it hurts, it feels like it’s going to explode and you feel like you can’t breathe at all.

You start crying again… no- you’re fucking wailing. You’re crying out for the loss of your flower, for the death of a lover who isn’t even dead, much like Jungkook had earlier.

It finally hits you that he isn't coming back. He's gone, and now, you're expected to move on. Your heart aches for him. Without him, do you even have a heart?

No, you really don’t, not right now anyway. The moment he stepped out that door, he took it with him. He fucking stole your heart just like he stole your pimple patches and perfume.

All you can do is cry for him, except right now, you don’t have him to cling to for empty comfort. Instead, you reach for the dead wildflower, hold it in your palm, bring it to your chest, and cradle it close as if you can somehow bring it back to life.

Bring him back to you.

Little do you know, he’s currently curled up in his bed at his second apartment. He hasn’t stopped crying since he left. He went back home, took the stolen perfume, and sprayed it all over his damn bed, and now he’s hugging a pillow as if it’s you. Imagining that it’s you, that this is all just a horrible dream, and he will wake up soon.

Both of you are lovers, stars who collided, planets who aligned, flowers who grew side by side.

But it was at the wrong time. And now you’re paying the consequences of your paths crossing when they shouldn't have.

So far away in the matter of hours when you were once so close, yet you’re both doing the exact same thing; clinging to shreds of each other and wishing so fucking badly that things could be different.

Both of you left each other without returning your hearts. Both of your flowers got stepped on instead of uprooted and re-planted somewhere safer.

Spring has passed, no longer bees buzzing and flowers blooming, but the cold harsh winter is coming.

It will be a while before either of you bloom again, if at all.