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penelope-potter · 1 day

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Falling Forever With You~

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Pairing: Alastor x Fem! Owl Hybrid! Reader Summary: Alastor invited you to meet him at the library after your performance, but what could he possible want from you? Continuation from part one of 'Falling Forever'

Part 1

Warnings: No one

~~~~~~~~~

Your heart hammered against your rib cage as you slowly walked down the stage. The crowd clapped and cheered for you both but you didn't really noticed it because your gaze was looking everywhere to find Alastor. Charlie started babbling about how amazing it is to welcome everyone here as you sneaked between the tables only to find the radio demon looking around. Your eyes met his and his smile only grew wider as he turned around swiftly and looked behind his back for a last time before disappearing in the dark hallway. You could feel your hands shaking as you started walking to follow him as someone grabbed you by the wrist. "Whoa wait wait what are you doing there sweetcheeks?" You looked at Angel who's gaze was incredible worried. "Nothing...Al just wanted to talk with me about something." You said innocent and smiled awkwardly as he only raised an eyebrow. "Yeah I'm totally sure that he just wants to talk with you..." You sighed. He doesn't understand it. "Angel, I know you just want to protect me from this. But I- well, you know how it is to be in love with someone. And this one sided thing makes me sick. I just-" You stopped and took in a sharp breath. "I know that he's probably not feeling the same as I do. And maybe you're right and he's just toying with me. But I want to hear it from him directly. I want him to say it in my face that he don't feel the same, so I can't cut the rope finally." Angel looked at you sadly and pulled you into a hug. "Aww man my poor friend is really in love. Shit stop it." You let out a tired chuckle. "I wish that would be so easy..." You looked up at him. "Or that it would be obvious like the thing going on between you and Husk."

His cheeks turned more reddish than before as he shushed you. "Yeah yeah okay. Just...promise me you won't agree on a deal with him alright?" His condition shocked you. "A deal? With him..." Would he really be so brash to come up with a deal so that he could use you as his toy forever? The thought of him being so cruel and heartless when he's been so gentle with you all the time, made your heart hurt a bit more than before. "Yes, just promise me that. I can't save your lovey-dovey ass- but I can tell you how stupid you are when you end up crying because I was right. But I can't save you from a deal with him. The least I want for you is to be trapped like I am." Your shoulder dropped and you gave him a crooked smile. "I promise. No deals, and no..." You stopped. "...tears." You continued and held out your pinky for him to clink in. He smiled and bonded his with yours. "Good. Now go on- don't let him wait for too long." You nodded and looked above your shoulder one more time before you were gone, finding Alastor. The library was empty. Of course. You often go here just to read the old books Charlie has somehow managed to get and read here for hours. Almost always Alastor comes by 'suddenly' like he said and sat down with you to chat or read together. You smiled at the thought of the endless nights you two sat on the carpet and read an old novel he liked, or an old Romance book you were too shy to admit that you liked this kind of stuff. He never complained, nor he laughed at you for liking something so cloud headed. He just gave you his soft smile and asked you why you liked this scene so much, why you adore the way the story was written and while you explained it to him, he never broke eye contact. Sometimes his fingers wanders extremely close to yours, so you could feel his nails brushing against your fingertips. You walked further until you could hear a soft melody coming from one of the rooms. The library. You were a bit surprised because it was a song unlikely for him. You once heard it from your old radio he gifted you, and he just stood there for a moment and listened to it. It had a tune more from his time so less modern, he had to like it somehow. He must heard you singing along with it and now he's playing it maybe for you to calm down. It just effected you to be more nervous to be honest. You stopped before the two large doors and raised your hand to open it. Your wings flutter nervously and your tail spread like a fan behind you. Okay, it's alright. It's alright you got this. You thought to yourself before you knocked against the door, didn't waited for an invitation and stood there between the angles. He sat there, on the carpet, on his spot where he's always sitting. He shifted his weight on his left arm and his head turned around to look at you. His eyes were half lidded, the red color of his lids were shimmering like blood in the small fireplace near the bookshelf. "I must say, I was a bit worried that I might have scared you away with my sudden offer sweetheart..." He started and only then you realized that you were holding your breath the entire time. "Why would I?" You asked and smiled at him forceful. You already know how this will turn out.

"You are right. You never let me down. Just like a few minutes before..." He gestured you to sit next to him, so you slowly walked to your spot and plopped down. "Yes...uhm so if- if that's the reason why I should come, I'm incredibly sorry really- I just thought it was a good idea-" He stopped you with his finger against your lips. You almost choked on your words as you just stared at him blankly. He titled his head and took a moment to admire you as he shifted his hand and grabbed your chin. "Oh no sweetheart, I indeed trust you. And it was an exiting memory for me." He said and his smile softened. "A-and what is the reason you got me here then?" He didn’t answered you instant, he took his time to shift his head to the other side, incredible close suddenly, as his eyes found it’s way to your lips. “I wanted to ask you something dearest. And I might already know the answer…” Enough. You blinked two times before shifting backwards to loosen his grip. “Oh...you- you do.” You avoided eye contact as he just raised an eyebrow at you. “What is the matter sweetheart? I didn’t even start to-” “Just stop.” Silence is filling the room and left you feeling hopeless. Tears starts to blurry your view as you tried your hardest to hold the tears from falling. Angel was right. He was just toying with you. He must be. “(Y/N)?” Oh how you hated it. How you hated the way your name rolls over his tongue, or how his gaze seems to read through your soul with an ease when you try your hardest to keep it all hidden. “When you already know the answer why do you want me to say it?” You turned your head, still in the position with him bending forward to you. He didn’t care to move so you just sat there awkwardly as well. As he didn’t gave you an answer you sighed. “I know that you don’t feel the same about me like I do about you. And I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable. But please, for god’s sake don’t toy with me. You can make fun of me or tease me I don’t care- but just don’t pretend to feel the same when it’s the opposite.” You fixated a spot near the fireplace and felt your cheeks burn up. God this was horrible, so horrible. You should have known it from the beginning. Angel was right. He kept his act just to use you for his own good. What would have happened if you would have played along? You didn’t finished your thoughts as Alastor once again grabbed your hand and lead it right to his chest. Surprised you looked back at him, his eyes now in a sad kind of way. “Oh sugar, how did I managed to let you feel this way about me?” His gaze never left yours, his hand still on yours on his chest. You could feel his heart through the silk of his coat hammering. “I might be cruel to everyone else, but never to you. I have control over many things but not over this. You are the first person I ever felt this strange attachment, and I must admit that I hated it at first.” He looked down at your lips for a brief second before looking right up again, his other hand slowly raising and hovering near your cheek for you to choose.

“If I would wanted to play with you I would already had you under my hands. But you darling are different. I never loved anyone ever before in this way and it frightens me till this point. I can’t afford myself a weakness like this. To always have an eye to the only precious thing I never want to lose. To have something to lose. But you seem to be worth starting wars for.” He paused as his expression showed a sprinkle of surprise for letting slipping the words out. You just stared at him unsure. Is he really saying the truth? He seemed to guess your thoughts because he pressed your hand closer to his chest. “I don’t have control over this. And I have control over everything about me.” His words let your heart melt and you could feel the heat rushing right up to your cheeks. Everything felt so real, his words his actions as well. You wanted to believe him so bad but something pulled you away from it. It was the pure angst you felt. His hand still hovering over your cheek as you slowly leaned your head against it, your hand stabilized his. “I want to believe you so bad Al...really but-” “Please give me a chance.” Your eyes widened. He rarely took this word into his mouth, nor he ever seemed to beg for something. You searched for anything in his eyes to tell you that he’s lying, that everyone was right and you just should move on, but you couldn’t find anything. You just sighed, shaking. “Promise me.” You said, and shifted your weight forward, he leaning back slowly but still incredible near to you. Your wings flutter and starting to shake as well. “Promise me you won’t play with me.” It took you by surprise as he grabbed your face with both hands for you to look directly into his beautiful crimson eyes. “Never. Satan himself should come and get me then if I ever even think of it. I-” He paused. “love you.” The static of his voice was completely lost, what brought you to shiver. You loved his voice but without the static filter it drove you completely insane. “I love you too. But I guess you already know this right?” His smile grew wider. “I had some theories. But I wasn’t completely sure…” He leaned his forehead against yours. This could be a horrible idea. It could be the end of you. Angel would kill you again. But when it was so wrong like everyone told you, why does it feels so right? “Liar.” He chuckled. “Just for the others….” His mouth now close to your ear. “May I?” He looked at your lips, his face just inches away from yours. “Yes.” Not even a second later he took your face once again and pressed his lips against yours. Your heart skipped a beat as you shyly grabbed his collar. The kiss deepened as his claws ran through your hair and brought you shivers down your spine, as you got braver and also took his face in your hands. He asked for permission with the tip of his tongue and you opened your mouth for him.

It couldn’t be possible wrong when you feel like you’re in heaven when you really are in hell. Alastor’s hands wandering over your back, pressing you against him, as you two shifted and lost your balance and dropped backwards on the carpet. You two chuckled like teenagers on their first make out session and you could feel your whole body burning. He’s now hovering over you, silently admiring you. “Just look at you. What did I done right in my life to be blessed with someone like you?” You just playfully rolled your eyes. “Yeah right…” “Hm what is this?” He came closer to you, your chests touching. “Not used to recieve compliments?” He brushed over your lips with his claw. “Whoever made you feel this insecure- I will find him.” His expression changed to his manic side for a second before getting soft again. Or no, it was something different. His gaze was full of desire, of longing. “You can’t imagine how often I imagined this…” His lips brushed against yours. The thought of him imagine scenarios of you and him kissing or something else made you shake for excitement. “Oh so you daydream about me?” You teased, your wings spreading wide and tickling his arms. “Oh not only on the daytime…” He brushed a feather of your right wing slowly as you started to make a noise. His smile grew wider. “My little songbird...” He continued to brush his claws through your feathers as you grabbed him by his coat and pulled him towards you, his body now pressed against yours once more, he laying on top of you. “Stop teasing me, or I might go on stage once again to escape you.” He titled his head. “Hmm that would be unfortunate. Not when you look at me with those eyes…” He took one of your feathers between his fingers, rubbing it. “...not when you look like an Angel right now.” He looked back at you and his lips brushed over yours again. As the kiss deepened you bit his lower lip a bit what caused him to squeeze. You smiled against the kiss as he pulled apart a few inches. “Rude. I guess you don’t know the outcome for getting into trouble hm?” He licked the corner of your mouth with the tip of his tongue only for connecting your lips once again. His hands tracing over your hips now, slowly finding it’s way to your legs. Your whole body heated up by the sudden intimate touch of him when you were so used to reserved ones. A hand on your shoulder, your back, your head even. The most intimate thing he ever done was to place his hand on your lower back or on your chin. This is new. But it felt so good. Your moment was over as soon as you heard steps coming from the hallway. You immediately stopped, and Alastor looked right up. His hair all messy because of your grip, his smile showed now teeths as he looked back at you.

“I-I think it’s Angel. He wants to make sure that everything is alright…” You said and watched the door, ready for the embarrassment of the evening as you heard a chuckle coming from him. “Oh how badly I want to show off with you, sugar. But I guess this will have to wait a bit.” “Al-” “You started as the door opened and you closed your eyes as you could hear him snap his fingers and the floor under you two began to shift in an instant. A few seconds later you found yourself in Alastor’s room. You were lying on the carpet on the side of his room with two armchairs. He shifted his weight from you and pulled you with him. “I really wanted to show you off darling…” His smile changed into a lustful grin. “...but I guess I am a bit selfish tonight.” You smiled and got up, close to his face of a sudden. “That’s okay I guess. But I think we should go back to the others. They must be waiting for us.” You teased and got up, leaving him alone on the floor. You didn’t came much forward because he swiftly got up and swirled you around like you would be dancing. “They had their act sweetheart. The other one is not meant for them to see…” You couldn’t hide your smile, which he found adorebal. You were so sweet, so innocent. How a soul like you could carry their heart on their sleeve and not already be used by some filthy, disrespectful demon. He knew that he had gotten himself something to be shred apart, something that could be taken away from him. But somehow he doesn’t find it so terrible anymore. Maybe the people were right. When you find something to live with, you will be able to take this burden with you. The candle which you will always be afraid it will be blown out by something or someone. He is aware of that and it scared him more than anything ever in his life or afterlife. But he’s willing to try it. You accepted him as he was, with all of his being. As you came to the hotel, you weren’t afraid of him. The opposite, you always searched for him even when he really tried his best to test you. But you were never afraid, never saw the monster he is and ever was, not being able to sense the danger coming from him. It didn’t changed as you heard all the story’s about him, story’s which were right. You didn’t cared. You never do. You give everyone a chance. Even him. “Can I ask you something dear?” He asked, looking directly in your eyes. Your expression immediately became serious. “Yes. Of course. Is everything alright?” You titled your head, a sudden wave of sadness rolling over your beautiful face, and it almost brought him to his knees as he heard the words from you. “Do you changed your mind?” “W-what? No, never darling!” He said quickly, and grabbed your hands in his. “It has nothing to do with you. It has something to do with me…” You listened, still a worried expression. “Then what is it?”

You asked finally. “I know it seems a bit strange for you. I bet so. But, why do you love me? You can’t accept a monster…” He started but you held his cheeks in an instant. “Hey. Why would you say that?” “Because it’s true. I did nothing good up there. And here neither. The people are scared of me, and I would shred them apart in an instan. The residents in here aren’t very fond of me. You should hate me for the things I did, and you should not love me. Your soul is far too pure to love a filthy like mine…” It broke your heart to hear this from him. He never showed any kinds of weakness and now he’s opening himself up in front of you. Your shoulders dropped and you pulled him closer to you. “There is nothing that I don’t love about you. You did many things but- I don’t know. I couldn’t love someone who wouldn’t misbehave. And you could tell me very terrible thing you ever did and I would love you anyway.” You traced your fingers through his hair, and you could feel how he stiffened under your touch. You caressing his head up to his ears and he slowly relaxed a bit. “Oh darling...how?” He leaned into your touch. “I can’t help it. I don’t know why, but I can count so many things that I love about you.” You smiled and came closer with your face. “Your beautiful voice for example. Or your charming way to talk or act. You always listen to everything I say, and you calm me down when the whole hell is falling apart. You hold me to the ground when I lose track and you managed to get me all flustered when I’m around you. So…” You gave him a feather like kiss on the cheek. “I guess this is a good start for loving you, hm?” He chuckled and leaned his forehead against yours. How blessed I am for finding you sugar.” “I never thought that-” You stopped. Was it really right to ask him again? Maybe you did a huge mistake for accepting his ‘love’. “Thought what?” He pulled apart a bit to look you in the eyes. “That you love me.” You gave him a crooked smile as you loose your grip on him. “...I am everything you don’t like. I come from a modern time, I cry a lot and show my feelings open for anyone to use against me. I’m weak like you would say. That we are friends was already a huge surprise, and now you love me? I-It just feels so surreal.” You looked at him standing in front of you, taking a step forward. “Sweetheart, don’t you see? You make me act like a child with their first love. I never done this before, and I know that I now have something to protect from this hell. But I am ready to risk it all.” He stepped closer and grabbed your hand once again. His smile softened as he buried his nose in the crock of your neck. “You wear your heart on your sleeve darling. And I would despise it by any other, but you made something with me. And I love it.” Your scent made him almost go insane, and how your body is incredible hot against his. Or was it

him all along? It doesn’t matter. The sudden urge to pull you even closer to him and tangle himself around you is so strong it made his heart race. “Well…” You sniffed, he looked up surprised. “I guess I have to believe you.” “Oh sweetheart no more tears.” He gently wiped the tears off your face. “Sorry…” You laughed and tried to blink the rest away. “Don’t be.” His expression got serious suddenly as he leaned closer to you and gave you a light kiss on your bottom lip. “I will tear the whole hell apart, if anyone ever tries to take away your smile. Sugar.” Your eyes lidded like his as you smiled warmly. “I don’t want you to get into any trouble-” “Shush now sweetheart…” He bit your lower lip gently as he talked against your lips, his hot breath tickling your chin. “...everything for you.” The kiss you two shared got more passionate and slow, without the need to lead to something further. It was just you two in this moment, the music from the lobby just a quiet background noise. His smell made your head fizzy and you could feel your heart beating fast against his as your bodies were pressed against another. It all felt too realistic for a dream. You were afraid everything would be gone the second you opened your eyes again. That you would be lying in bed and imagined yourself everything up, but it never happened. He looked at you with half closed eyes, while touching every inch of your skin with a gentleness you would have never expected from him. How can he be cruel and yet so gentle? It doesn’t matter to you anymore. The only thing you hoped is that his feelings would never change. You were pulled apart by the sudden chuckle of his. You looked surprised as he swirled you around, your wings spreading apart so you were hovering in the air, pulling him off his feet for a brief second. “What was that for?” You laughed breathlessly. He looked confused, his eyebrow’s told it. His smile was softer on the edges, his real one. “I don’t know...sudden burst of joy.” He rubbed his hair like a little boy, what brought you to laugh again. You pulled him close to you again and started to clap with your wings. You took him with you just a few inches above the ground, but it was enough for you both to giggle like the kids you were deep down. He never thought he would feel something like this. But with every second he enjoyed it more than anything in his past live. You were his first and last. That’s for sure.

~~~~~~~~~

Part two is finally out! I hope you like it you all :)

Tagging my favorite person again @fraugwinska ♥

#hazbin hotel #fanfiction #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #penelope write's #alastor x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you

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beanghostprincess · 4 months

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After two whole arcs of seeing him getting extremely traumatized, the blond guy finally gets to feel a little tiny itty bit of whimsy and joy as a little treat

#he's adorable i am sick i am going to cry #he's my whole world my whole universe #i am so not okay mentally #look at him jumping around :((( my boy #he deserves a bit of happiness #he's so silly #one piece #egghead #black leg sanji #op 1094

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verstappen-cult · 2 months

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LOVE STORY, M. VERSTAPPEN.

PAIRING. max verstappen x female reader.

SUMMARY — Going out on dates with Max means taking a lot of pictures to share them on Instagram. Max has never complained, in fact, he's more than happy to show the world just how much he enjoys every single one of those dates.

GWEN'S RADIO MESSAGE. requested by @amoosarte "reader and max go out a ton dates during winter break, with max posing awkwardly while reader is taking picture every second if they go on a date, so max switched it around and take a bunch of photos of her and it's just so adorable and he's so whipped?" i had so much fun looking for max and his gf's pictures because he's literally the 🧍‍♂️emoji in every single one of their pics. so sorry it took me so long to answer this, i hope you like it!

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, gigihadid and 989,562 others

yourusername Hello, Paris! Winter break has started and what a better way to celebrate than with a first date in the city of love with this handsome man. 💋🤍

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user01 relationship goals

user02 forever grateful with for giving us max content

landonorris thanks for not taking your child with you.

yourusername what don't you understand about romantic holiday? we don't want u here ⤷ landonorris wait did you hear that? it was my heart breaking. completely shattered. 😞 maxverstappen1 you're welcome! 😁👊 ⤷ landonorris i always knew you never wanted me

user03 the pov girlies of tiktok are gonna have a feast

user04 MY PARENTS

francisca.cgomes come and visit, i miss you!

yourusername just let me get rid of max first and i'll come to you, baby maxverstappen1 stop trying to steal my gf from me ⤷ francisca.cgomes she wants me

user05 the second pic is so pinterest coded

user06 max not wearing red bull merch? am i dreaming?

user07 the girlfriend effect is real

maxverstappen1 everyone needs to know that we walked around paris for hours trying to find that coffee place you wanted to try. i feet still hurt!

yourusername you love me ⤷ maxverstappen1 shut up

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 771,628 others

yourusername Everything's better if I'm with you.

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user08 omg im gonna cry they look so cute

user09 THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER

user10 sleeping on the highway sounds like a good idea

danielricciardo disgusting

yourusername you're just jealous

charles_leclerc went on holiday without me? :(

landonorris they left me too ⤷ yourusername OH SHUT UP ⤷ landonorris NEVER.

maxverstappen1 you can join us in st. tropez ⤷ landonorris can i join too? danielricciardo already packing pierregasly count me in oscarpiastri @/danielricciardo pick me up maxverstappen1 I WAS TALKING TO CHARLES

user11 sick and tired of not having my own max verstappen

user12 obsessed with max "heart eyes" verstappen

user13 HE LOVES HER SM

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, zendaya and 884,672 others

yourusername We had a reservation at a fancy restaurant today but instead of dressing up, we chose to stay home and build a flower bouquet out of Legos. 🥺🤍

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user14 they 😭 stayed home 😭 instead

georgerussell63 donuts are not on his diet.

maxverstappen1 SHUT UP GEORGE yourusername it's winter break ge, he's allowed ⤷ maxverstappen1 yeah baby defend me

user15 why is no one talking about MAX'S CHEST ON DISPLAY?????

user16 oh she knows what she's doing ⤷ yourusername no idea what you're talking about. 🤭

user17 i am BEGGING you to stop i'm too single for this

user18 MY OH MY

user19 yn's comment section always delivers

user20 happy for them and not at all jealous

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 973,722 others

yourusername 🖤🖤🖤

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user21 kill me now please i can't leave knowing i'll never find someone who loves me as much as max loves y/n

user22 THE WAY HE'S GRABBING HER LEG?

user23 MR. VERSTAPPEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING

alex_albon where did you two go

yourusername you've reached y/n's voicemail please speak after after the tone

oscarpiastri please remember i'm sharing a wall with you

charles_leclerc good luck mate yukitsunoda0511 i have earplugs if you need some ⤷ maxverstappen1 WTF YUKI

user24 WHAT IS GOING ON AAAA

user25 i can't keep lying to myself. i want a relationship like the one max and y/n have like you can clearly see how much they love each other

user26 OBSESSED WITH THIS DATE SAGA PLS DON'T STOP

maxverstappen1

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maxverstappen1 I just couldn't leave you without showing you my POV.

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user27 OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MYD SJDJHSDJKN

user28 all men should be like max verstappen

yourusername i didn't even notice you taking half of these. words cannot express how much i love you.

user29 "my pov" MY PARENTS

landonorris you actually made her look pretty

yourusername i'll cut the brakes of your car ⤷ landonorris THIS IS ATTEMPTED MURDER

user30 they're so adorable its disgusting

user31 i'm 100% sure their friends are so sick of them

charles_leclerc yes pierregasly you're right landonorris i throw up every time i see them georgerussell63 finally someone understands

user32 STOP THIS MADNESS

user33 oh she has him wrapped around her finger

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #f1 imagine #f1 smau

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t4rt4gl14 · 10 months

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SOFTIES GONE HARD!

❤︎ warnings: fem!reader. meandom!chara. spanking. bondage. manhandling. praise. degradation. size kink. cockwarming. overstimulation. edging. cum stuffing. breeding(kink). claiming. dacryphilia. marking.

❤︎ FEATURING: ZHONGLI. KAZUHA. THOMA. KAVEH.

❤︎ authors note: this one is about genshin men who’d usually fuck you softly but they’ve decided to fulfil their own desires today, using your body of course. ASKS ARE NOW OPEN. 18+ MNDI.

ZHONGLI.

calm, collected, ravishing zhongli, who always fucks you nice n slow, taking his time, softly trailing his fingers over your body. it was until a certain young man working in the market decides to flirt with you each time you go out, despite reassuring zhongli that you weren’t interested he was adamant on…reminding you who you belong to.

pinning your wrists above your head using one hand, the other circling your clit, fucking you into the couch as his tongue roams in your mouth, he usually speaks words of praise and reminds you how he adores you but this time? nothing but his promise to claim you. “you whore, you’re liking this arent you? a-ah fuck— i’m going to make sure your body remembers who it belongs to”. he hisses when your walls clamp down on him like a vice; halting right against your cervix and spilling all of his cum inside you. you both moan in unison and he doesn’t move until he’s let out of every drop- only then, does he slightly pull out and fuck up into you again.

KAZUHA.

now you can’t tell me this wouldn’t be hot, kazuha who’s given up on being so nice to you when you’ve kept teasing him on board the crux, he drags you into a storage room and whispers right into your ear whilst grinding his erection against your clothed pussy. “i am sick and tired of your endless teasing, i’ve spoilt you, haven’t i? seems like i’ll have to teach you a lesson.”

your knees can barely hold you up at this point, with yet another rough thrust into your wet cunt, a soft thwop thwop thwop heard from the storage room. he covers your mouth with his hand, uttering pure filth into your ears, “can’t even keep your voice down…do you want the others to hear how well i fuck you?”, you shake your head, whining and mewling against his soft palm, eyes rolling back from the pleasure. his thrusts pick up the pace, signalling his own orgasm. “mine…minemineminemine..”, he moans, biting down on your neck to keep himself quiet as his cum shoots into you, he softly rides out his orgasm, more of his seed leaking from the tip with each hump…”let’s go again, shall we?”

THOMA.

thoma is still surprisingly nice even when he is jealous, but boy he gets freakkyyyyy; kissing you softly as he blindfolds you, laying you on your tummy as he grinds his long thick cock against your ass, smearing his pre cum against your skin, “m’so hard for you, wanna fuck you..wanna show you much i love you”. and god does he prove his adoration for you.

you’ve already orgasmed yet he keeps fucking into that tight hole of yours, shamelessly bending down to your ear and moaning out, your juices making a sloppy mess and he can already begin to see the ring of cream forming at his base. when you cry and mewl, when you keep telling him your sensitive, he just keeps mindlessly rutting into you, whimpering soft apologies, “m-m’sorry…m’sorry— i-i know you’re s-sensitive you just feel— anghh~ s-so good, good girl..”, he gets lost in the pleasure, cumming into you again and again, using you for his own satisfaction, his brain registers that he, himself, is also extremely sensitive but his hips don’t know when to stop, his heart yearns to breed you, to make sure by the time you’re done; his cum leaks out of your cute cunt….thomaaaa <333

KAVEH.

ohh kaveh, sweet sweet kaveh who’s just lost his temper with you, he’s just gotten this overwhelming urge to just fuck you so hard, i mean it’s only natural right? he just wants to have you dumb on his cock, that’s normal…right?? but alas who are you to deny him? what was meant to be a fluffy cuddle session turned into full blown sex…

you shift slightly, pulling the blankets off you; it was getting way too hot, especially with how you’ve been sitting on kavehs cock for the past 40 minutes, ass cheeks red from his spanking. i mean honestly why was he being so rude? each time you asked him if you could move, “zip it will you? i know you like this, you’ve been twitching around me the whole time”, he teases with another spank, thrusting up just slightly; small tuft of hair tickling your clit. then after 20 minutes he sighs, “ride me like a good slut eh?”, and with shaky arms you grip his shoulders as support and start bouncing on his cock, ass slapping against his thighs— his dick reaches so deep when you ride him like this; you moan out as your back arches, calling out his name again and again..kaveh!..kaveh!~ he won’t deny how much this turns him on but eventually your pace doesn’t satisfy him, so he grabs you by the hips and flips you over onto your back, absolutely railing you, a pace that you’ve never experienced; you didn’t even know he had this side to him! and honestly…it was really hot.

MEANDOM THOMA AND KAVEH ARTGGGGGJDHHDJDJSJSB

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redr0sewrites · 2 months

Note

One thing I can't help but feel a Sub!Vox would unexpectedly enjoy is getting reminded/teased about the fact he has a safe word he can use.

Like, beyond just the safe, practical etiquette of double checking and making sure everything's still okay, in the scenario that he absolutely is still okay: You got him so worked up, overstimulated, repeatedly sobbing out "I can't"s, only to have you sweetly cut in with a sweet "Do you need to use the safe word~?" (Or any other possible non-verbal "STOP" sign that got agreed upon), and having that answer be "No."

Him getting faced with the fact that he can so, so, so easily have anything that's happening to him stop, should he so wish it, and yet, despite all his whining and begging and crying, he's actively choosing not to have it stop.

Him just getting so flustered by that paradox of him being reminded that he's in complete control over having no control~

YESSSSSS AUGHGHH I NEED TO PAMPER HIM‼️

🥀Cw: smut, sub!vox, safeword mentioned, overstim, not proofread bc i am both sick and tired im so sorry

🥀minors dni

once vox is in subspace, he really is a mess- drooling, moaning, whimpering, clawing at the sheets, and most obviously, crying

to most people this would give the impression that he wants to stop, but in reality, vox very very rarely uses the safeword but fuuuck it is SUCH a turn on for him that the opportunity is there

we all know he has a power kink, and he's so obviously in a submissive position during sex, but the fact that you're the one allowing him to stop if he needs to? it gets to his head

it also opens the door to his humiliation kink, bc nothing turns him on more than being humiliated. the fact that he could so, so easily quit, just walk out and be out of the embarrassing, submissive position he's in but instead he finds himself wanting to be wrecked- more than wrecked, downright ruined by you when he could so easily walk away. the entire situation is exhilarating and arousing to him

he also adores it when you use it mockingly, if you start cooing "aww, poor baby, do y'need to tap out already? gonna use the safeword sweetie?" he's already babbling, pleading with you to keep going, how he's being suuuuch a good boy! and then? well, he's rambling on and on about how he can't stop yet, how he needs to cum! how could you deny him?

vox takes punishments well, but will brat out the whole time, whimpering and whining about how he can't take it. however, the second you threaten to stop, or offer the safeword? he's putty in your hands, drooling and clawing at the sheets, practically begging you to keep going. its the quickest way to get him to completely submit to you without even another word!

vox isn't used to relinquishing control in general, so the power dynamics proposed by the safeword honestly make him trust you even more. even outside of the bedroom, it flusters him when you ask before touching him or when you ask about sex instead of just initiating.

when it comes to softer sex, vox also likes to be reminded of the safeword! sometimes he's just so stressed out that he just wants to be pampered, but he reaches a point where his mind gets so fuzzy he just can't stop :( he's mewling and whining as you ride him, tears streaming down his screen as you praise him, and he doesn't realize how far gone he is until you gently remind him he can tap out whenever he needs to. vox will nod, eyes watery and face flushed, and soon he becomes more aware of just how sleepy he is. he always makes sure you both cum one more time before tapping out, but i can also see him having a bit of a somnophilia kink, so he would probably consent to letting you fuck him in his sleep, with the promise of the safeword still being valid

i mentioned this before in the dry humping hcs, but sometimes, vox will get so needy and horny that he just can't stop, so the reminder of the safeword is often very useful when he's too far gone to communicate but is like 2 seconds away from passing out. but sometimes he likes to be pushed to the edge too, so he won't always use the safeword but gets off on the fact that the option is there

also tiny additional hc, i think he would like to use a meaningful word for a safeword. maybe something related to technology, like radio or something, or possibly electric. like if he started saying electric, it would mean he wanted to stop. or i think he would use a color system, you would ask him what color and he'd say red green or yellow depending on how into it he is or how he's feeling etc etc. either way he wants it to be meaningful and not just some random word- like he wants a sentimental reasoning behind whatever word you choose (feel free to comment safeword ideas so i can use them in future fics 👹)

vox lets out a wanton moan, glitching and panting as he humps your thigh like a dog in heat. he's writhing under your touch, unsure of where to put his hands when all he can focus on is the pressure against his painfully hard cock. its sinful the way he drags his hips, mewling deliriously as he creams in his pants for what feels like the hundreth time, and yet his pace doesn't falter as he ruts against you. he's a panting mess and barely coherent and he babbles, whimpering your name over and over. "fuc- zzz -k, 'm so- ple-zzz-" vox gasps, thighs shaking as you wrap your arms around his neck. his cock throbs when you make eye contact with him and his thighs squeeze around yours. a stain darkens the front of his pants, leftover from his previous release in his dazed rut. "vox," you coo, rubbing the ports on the back of his screen as he struggles to remain coherent enough to focus on your words. "vox, baby, do you need the safeword?" your voice is sickeningly sweet, laced with concern and lust.

vox paused at the thought, dread seeping into his body as he let out a pathetic whine. "nno, 'm fine," he slurred, rolling his hips against your thigh. "m not even tired," he mewls deliriously, and you nod, taking notice of his drooping eyelids and slowing movements. "okay sweetie, only one more round though, okay?" vox nods, tears streaming down his screen as his claws dig into the plush of your hips. you steady him, and you move your leg, assisting him in grinding against you as you shake your thigh. vox whimpers, static lacing his voice as he glitches out entirely. repeating your name like a prayer, his body tenses as he cums fast and hard, soaking his pants yet again. vox collapses against you, breathing ragged as he struggled to keep his eyelids from drooping. "you okay, baby?" you purr, and he nods, slumping deeper into your touch. "lets get you cleaned up, hm?"

UWRGJREHHEHEHEHE I AM ALWAYS IN THE MOOD FOR SUB VOX!!!!!!!!!! i love the idea of being soft w him sm- i genuinely have not written enough sfw stuff for vox so if anyone has anything fluffy to say ab him PLEASE come into my inbox. ALSO IF ANYONE HAS ANYTHING LUTE RELATED TO SAY ESPECIALLY/INCLUDING SMUT ALSO PLS COME INTO MY INVOX BC RUEGRHRGRHGR THEYRE BOTH MY FAVS RN

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coco-loco-nut · 2 months

Text

Look for the Light

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: You are Oscar’s best friend, but when you get sick, how is he going to cope

TW: cancer, death, grief

You will probably cry, I did while writing it at 3am

Based off of the song from Only Murders in the Building

requests are open! masterlist

———————————

Being Oscar’s best friend was the best thing you had achieved in your life, and you made sure the both of you knew it. You grew up a few houses from each other and from the moment you both met, you were inseparable. Spending your childhood on the beach, playing and having adventures of a lifetime. He never minded going to explore with you, especially the lighthouses, they fascinated you. The silent call, the notion of looking for safety, looking for the light. Oscar adored that about you, it’s why he always wanted to spend time with his best friend.

That didn’t stop when Oscar started karting, in fact, you were his number one supporter. As his career took off, he never missed a chance to hang out with you, nor you with him. Some of his friends back home throughout the years teased him about your relationship, but both of you knew that there was nothing more to it other than the tight knit bond, once that was more akin to siblings than romantic.

It was one early fall weekend that you both were on the beach, near your favorite lighthouse when you collapsed. It shifted your worlds forever. Oscar became more reserved and you spent more and more time in the hospital for treatments.

It was cancer, caught early and quickly curable, plus, you were young and healthy, at least that’s what the doctor said. That’s what you all thought. The doctor was right, at least the first time.

You stopped going to his races, falling out of the racing world’s eye, but the bond between you was stronger than ever, especially as his career took off even more. When you ended up in treatment for the second time, he was even more determined to spend time with you. Even now, he sits by your bedside watching a race. He looks at you closely, your skin losing some color and the adventurous spark dimmed in your eyes.

“I love you, Y/n. I’m scared, I can’t lose you,” Oscar admits one day. You both knew what he meant. You are basically his sister.

“Os, it’s ok. I am too, but we gotta be brave,” you choke a little, tears welling in your eyes. The spark in your eyes has all but dimmed out, you find it harder to get through each day.

Oscar is getting his first real shot at F1, but he doesn’t want to miss a moment with his best friend, the one who he has vet every girl he’s dated, because if anyone knows him best, it’s you. The one person he can keep private from his public life, he can hide your pain and suffering from his crazy world.

“It’s not fair,” his eyes well up. The air is thick, the looming darkness has been settling in, the both of you don’t want to acknowledge the truth of it.

“Oscar,” your frail hand grabs his. “I love you, you are my brother, my closest friend, and I am incredibly grateful that you are in my life. Now, adventure is calling, so go and be brave,” you give him your best smile, not wanting to waste his F1 Australia debut, in Melbourne nonetheless, worrying.

“Y/n, I’ll wait by the shore for you,” he says, and you squeeze his had tighter.

“My love is a lighthouse, look for the light,” you whisper. He glances at the clock and with a heavy heart leaves the room to go to the track. Socials think that he is just going charity visits this week since he is home, but the man is so reserved even Lando can’t get him to talk. He calls every night, and you demand to have the races on while you write in your notebook.

Your family is in the room with you, you had taken a turn for the worse overnight but you didn’t want to worry Oscar, not when the race in Melbourne was today, not when you knew what it meant to him. You finished the poem you were writing as there were ten laps left, the strength to write leaving you.

Your mom tried not to cry as she took the notebook and pen from you, your dad slipping beside you in the bed, holding onto his baby. Your mom called Oscar’s mom, who immediately picked up, knowing what the mid-race call meant.

“It’s time. She wrote to Oscar, and I don’t think she will make it past his media right after the race,” your mom chokes out, tears flowing as she hangs up and gets on the other side of you.

“Look Mom! Oscar is in the points, he made it to P8,” you smile at her weakly, your dad filming your reaction to Oscar crossing the line, but he quickly stops it when your monitor blinks irregularly. A nurse rushes in, having talked with you and your family about this moment earlier in the morning. She pushes medicine so you will be able to step into the light without pain, without suffering.

“It doesn’t hurt, I promise. Tell Oscar I love him, and thank you for every moment. I love you both, thank you for choosing me as your child and loving me forever. I will love you beyond my last breath. Look for the light. Will you sing the song to me?” You ask your mom, tears streaming down your face with a small smile.

“Hush little one, let me sing you to sleep. Moonlight has come so drift off to a dream. Sail from the day to the wonders awaiting you out there, in the deep. Off little one, chase the wind on the wave, adventure is calling so go and be brave. But if you get lost as your tossed in the dark of the sea, look for me,” your mom sings the haunting lullaby, watching your breathing slow. On the TV, the camera pans to Oscar celebrating with his team. Your eyes glimmer with happiness for the last time.

“No, baby, no,” your mom pleads, your dad pulls you tighter into him. With the last bit of energy you can muster, you squeeze their hands as your eyes close and a shuttering breath leaves your body. The screams of a mother can be heard over the flatline. The nurse unplugs your machine as another makes a phone call to Oscar’s mom, something you asked a while ago privately, knowing your parents would be too distraught. The nurses follow your wishes with heavy hearts.

———

Oscar gets back to his driver’s room with a large smile on his face, having just celebrated with the team and gone through media. The first thing he sees is his Mom’s tear stained cheeks and he drops his helmet.

“No,” he whispers.

“She’s gone, Os,” his mom cries, pulling him into a hug. His body wracks with sobs. Lando sees the two and quickly leaves, having intended on congratulating his teammate, but now going to inform the team that Oscar won’t be doing press. Lando wasn’t sure what happened, but he knew it had to be personal and that was enough.

“She’s not gone, she’s not,” Oscar says after a minute. His mom wipes a tear off and looks at him with a mix of pity, sorrow, and compassion. “NO,” Oscar yells, his grief taking over, he slumps on the couch, sobbing more. The light house trinket you gifted him years ago sits on a table, a glint of sun shining off the top, as if to provide a comfort, a goodbye.

“I’m sorry. She asked me not to talk you it got worse last night. Her mom called during the race to let me know,” his mom says gently a few minutes later. Social media buzzes as pictures of Oscar’s tear stained face as he left the paddock spreads and speculation grows, but he stays silent.

The funeral is quick, small, near the beach that is home to your favorite lighthouse. It’s more of a memorial, your family having chosen to go with a closed casket burial because you didn’t want to be remembered in that state. So here Oscar is, outside Cape Otway, sitting on a rock, your unopened letter in his hand. It’s two pages, and he hasn’t had the strength to open the folded pages. He looks at the sunset, it’s rays washing over him. The ocean seems to tell him to open the letters.

Oscar,

Words cannot describe how proud I am of you. My best friend achieved his dream, what more can I ask for? More time? No. It’s odd, writing a letter about my own death. I can only assume how you feel. I’m sorry that I left you, but I never truly did. I’m in the light, I went peacefully and painlessly, surrounded by love. The sunset you see, the stars shining on you, a ray of sunshine bouncing off of something, that’s me. Don’t wait forever by the shore for me, you don’t need to weather each storm, standing by until I return. I will always be with you. Don’t be afraid to grieve, share my light wherever you go, keep me with you and alive in spirit. I love you, my best friend and brother.

Your lighthouse, beyond my last breath,

Y/n

Oscar moves your letter behind the next, his eyes looking at the poem, this one’s writing significantly harder to read. Your weak state evident in the messy lines, but it’s perfect to him.

Os- I finished the lullaby, find comfort in it when you miss me. Look for the light

Hush, little one, let me sing you to sleep

Moonlight has come, now, drift off to a dream

Sail from the day to the wonders awaiting you out there

In the deep

Off little one, chase the wind on the waves

Adventure is calling, so go and be brave

But if you get lost as you're tossed in the dark of the sea

Look for me

I will wait at the shore for you

I will weather each storm standing by 'til

Safe, you return from the night

My love is a lighthouse

So look for the light

The light

I will wait at the shore for you

I will weather each storm standing by 'til

Safe, you return from the night

My love is a lighthouse

So look for the light

The light

Oscar sniffles, carefully pocketing the papers. He pulls out his phone and watches the video he hasn’t dared to open until now, the one your father sent to him, a smile gracing his face as he sees you cheer as he crosses the line, but it drops as he hears the beeping before the video cuts. He looks up at the lighthouse for a minute, taking a picture for his personal memorial, before returning home. He changes his helmets to include a lighthouse, refusing to put one on that doesn’t.

The drivers and the McLaren team notice a shift in the driver when he appears in Baku. Lando takes it upon himself to try and get information from Oscar but fails. Instead Oscar turns to Pierre, Mick, and Charles.

“Her name was Y/n, she was my best friend, my sister. She died shortly after I crossed the finish line in Melbourne,” tears sting the young drivers eyes as he lays out his grief to the two drivers who know his pain better than anyone. Mick encourages Oscar to share the good, not the illness. It isn’t much, but the driver’s spirit has lifted a little bit, and the four agree to share their grief with each other more often, finding a healthy outlet with each other.

Lando only praised his teammate for his strength when asked about that Melbourne day, and reiterated that private matters were just that, private. Shortly after talking with the other three, Oscar sat Lando, Andrea Stella, and Zak down and let them know the basics of what happened.

“I’m sorry man, I didn’t even know you had someone that close to you,” Lando put a hand on Oscar’s shoulder. Oscar looks at the sunset with a sad smile.

“It’s ok, she’s here,” Oscar says, a hand over the lighthouse on his helmet.

oscarpiastri 2 April 2023 • I will wait by the shore for you, look for the light

comments are turned off

#oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #oscar piastri imagine #f1 imagine #you will cry #i sobbed #why did i make this #writing at 3am should be illegal

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miley1442111 · 25 days

Text

insomniac- a.hotchner

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

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

i have diagnosed insomnia so literally do not fucking come for me if u think something is 'wrong' ❤️

summary: how aaron helps with your insomnia episodes

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: fluff, discussions of insomnia and feeling 'different' because of it, mental health, crying, comfort.

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

Aaron knew he missed something. He knew you would never be this cold to him if he hadn’t. It had been an entire week of a case, and his calendar updated meaning that all of his reminders had been deleted. The case was awful, but at least it was in DC. Yet, every night he came home to you asleep on the couch, a plate of dinner in the fridge lacking its regular note, and a cold bed.

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

He walked inside and locked the door behind him, he knew you’d be awake, it was only 5pm. He walked further into the house, hearing your soft singing while you cooked dinner and Jack’s giggles as you two danced.

Aaron leant against the door, smiling at you two. You two were the loves of his life. He adored you two.

“Daddy!” Jack squealed, excited to see his dad for the first time that day.

“Hey buddy,” he smiled, picking him up when he ran to him.

“Hi darling,” you smiled at Aaron, a familiar tone in your voice. Was it hurt? Or upset? Or anger?

“Hi love,” he smiled and kissed your forehead as you burrowed into his side. He felt confused. If you were angry with him, why were you so close?

“Bug and me went to the playground after school today!” Jack beamed. Bug had been the nickname you were given as a child and when your family came over to meet Jack and Aaron, they called you it. Aaron, on occasion called you Bug but he used it sparingly. Only on certain occasions he felt it necissary. Whereas Jack exclusively called you Bug. Bug was your nickname as a kid because well, you liked bugs.

You removed yourself from Aaron’s embrace with a subtle yawn and continued cooking at the stove, swaying your hips slightly to the soft music in the background.

“Bug hasn’t been sleeping this week,” Jack whispered in his ear and it all made sense. You had insomnia, you’d had it since you were a child. The only place you’d ever felt you could actually sleep when you had an episode like this is the couch, since it’s where your parents would let you sleep as they watched tv late at night. Aaron nodded his head and put Jack down, signalling for him to go play in his playroom. Jack didn’t need to be told twice.

“Baby?” Aaron murmured as he held you from behind, swaying with you.

“Hm?” You hummed lazily. “How was your case?”

“Fine. Long. How are you?” He asked, his concern about you trumping the horrors he’d seen that week.

“Fine, not much is going on at work-” You tried to lie, but Aaron was a profiler for fuck’s sake. He saw the tired and glossy eyes, felt the tensed muscles in your back against his chest, noticed the way your arms hung lower, and the way you slightly dragged your feet.

“Bug,” he softly scolded. You sighed and it turned into a yawn. “You’re not sleeping?” He could feel the heave in your chest, the way you bit your lip as your eyes threatened to spill the tears you’d kept in all week. Your breathing accelerated and he pressed one of his large hands over your diaphragm, feeling your sporadic breathing. “It’s ok darling, let it out.”

You whipped around, sobbing into his chest. You were sick of it, sick of this. Asking yourself the same questions since you were a child “why am i different?” “Why can everyone else just sleep?” “It’s a regular bodily function, we need it to survive, why can’t I sleep?”

Feeling just the same as your childhood self, tired and scared, wondering if you’d be like this forever.

Aaron always helped, you were a lot worse at the beginning of your relationship but he helped you sleep, got you to doctors, and made an effort to understand you.

“I fucking hate this,” you whispered into his chest. “I hate not sleeping.”

“I know, I just wish there was something I could do,” Aaron had felt helpless in this area of your relationship. He’d had the odd sleepless night, anyone in his position would. But he couldn’t even imagine the difficulty of your situation. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you for being here,” you whispered, wiping your tears away. He put a hand under your chin, making you look at him.

“I’ll always be here for you, always,” he promised.

You nodded and turned back around, finishing off dinner.

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

After dinner, Aaron washed up as you put Jack to sleep, then grabbed your blankets and pillow to set up on the couch for the night. When you walked downstairs, you found Aaron sitting on the couch in his pyjamas.

“Hey baby,” he smiled and pulled you into his lap by your waist. Your tired head landed on his chest and you allowed your eyes to close as you listened to him recount his week and the case. He held you tight, tighter than usual. Though, you didn’t mind.

After an hour or so, Aaron noticed the steady, snoozing breaths falling from your lips and he carried you to your shared bed, setting you down beside him. His arms wrapped around you and he fell asleep, happy to know that you were sleeping soundly.

He knew this wouldn’t be the last episode, or the worst, but he was happy to help anyway.

In any way he could.

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

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch #spencer reid #derek morgan

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norman-fucking-reedus · 3 months

Text

Thinking a lot about GirlDaddy Daryl… like nobody can convince me that he wouldn’t be absolutely soft for his daughter

When she’s a baby his heart is just so full, the first months after having her he just cried everytime he held her. He’d think about how he has a family of his own to protect, and how he’s gonna work his ass off to be a worthy father unlike his own.

The toddler stage catches him way off guard. He now has a walking talking mini female version of him tailing along behind his every step. She follows him EVERYWHERE its absolutely adorable. He spends every day playing questionnaire.

“Daddy wha’s tha?”

“Don’ touch tha’ ya could get hurt”

Yes she would definitely pick up his accent, and yes it is the cutest thing. She lives up her nickname Lil Dixon all the way.

When she reaches the tween stages, tempers start to flare and arguments ensue, only unfortunately for Daryl his daughter is, well his, and not Judith, so instead of walking away she bites back, and surprisingly hard.

“Dammit girl jus’ listen ta me alrigh’?!”

“Fuck you!”

“Aye! Watch yer damn mouth missy- Don’ walk away from me!”

The conversation ended with a frilly bedroom door being slammed in his face, leaving him more grounded more than anything. He obviously ends up feeling horrible about, almost spiraling in your arms as he sobbed about how he was ending up lile his dad. You had to reassure him that “Good parents can still argue with their kids. Give her some time and then go talk to her”

Daryl may or may not have felt slightly sick when he knocked on her door a few hours later, but it was quickly washed away when the door open and she jumped into his arms.

“M’sorry fer swearin’ daddy”

“M’sorry fer yellin’ at ya kiddo”

Can you blame the man for crying a little? He didn’t get apologizes as a kid and right now he was healing himself.

Surprisingly the teenage stage ends up being the best, her having gained your sense of humor and a laidback personality, also not being afraid to speak her mind and defend her thoughts.

“Dad, yer gettin’ prettyy fuckin’ old. What am I gon inherit from ya?”

“M’not dyin’ any goddamn time soon girl, get away from me”

“Hey! S’rude to push women! Didn’t moms teach ya anythin?”

“Ya ain’t a woman, yer a girl. Now scram”

“Why are ya tearing me down?”

“Are ya gettin’ a kick out of botherin’ me?”

“Yes very much so”

She becomes his second best friend, constantly getting on his nerves and harassing him throughout the day. Having grown up with Merle, Daryl was used to some of her antics, at one point starting a prank war against her.

“Daryl, do you wanna explain to me why you’re filling balloons with glitter?”

“Yer daughter is gon have some real sparkly hair”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #norman fucking reedus #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #twd #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #daryl x you

552 notes · View notes

writingstoraes · 11 months

Text

say cheese 📸

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!photographer!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: lucky me this made it out of my drafts 🎉 lmk what you guys think! also if anyone wants to be part of my permanent taglist, pls lmk hehe

about: fans absolutely adore the way you are able to capture charles in photos (plus what's a little harm with an accidental post that made its way to your account)

scuderiaferrari

liked by charloslover, finemidnight, arthurleclerc, and 782,221 others

scuderiaferrari Outtakes from Montreal 🍁

lightningleclerc I FEEL BLESSED

forzaforeva Congratulations, Charles! Amazed by the amount of work you put in every race weekend. Hoping for good results next GP 💪

livelovecarlos whoever took the last photo needs a raise actually

lecssaint i think y/n took this photo! but true lol she photographs charles so well its crazy

scuderiaferrari

liked by mercdefender, lewham, c2buddy, and 561,223 others

scuderiaferrari Mode: push 🏎️

vettelegend Such a good picture! Good luck, Charles! ❤️

lestappenfilmz ferrari's photographer in love with charles' eyes just as much as i am

f1thusiast y/n please speak into the mic

ssainzluvr carlos version where?????

scuderiaferrari Just posted! We'd never leave a driver behind 🤗 lecssssainz who the fuck are you tryin to fool

scuderiaferrari

liked by ferrariswift, pumasports, monacoprince, and 893,331 others

scuderiaferrari Charles clad in his special colors ❤️🤍

alonstroll The photographer working overtime so the Ferrari admins can distract us once again from the terrible strategy lol

popstarz LOOOVE THIS GIVE Y/N A RAISE IMMEDIATELY

finelineleclerc real when charles doesnt post i head over to her account just to get crumbs pls

ynfilms

liked by charles_leclerc, joris__trouche, lovers1989, and 56,445 others

ynfilms back in monaco 🌊

charles_leclerc Props for taking the second picture, not thrilled on diving a fourth time if ever you didn't 😁

landonando THE FIRST PICTURE??? I CANT BREATHE???

eudeleclerc he's definitely carved by god himself like

charmleclerc thank you for your service, queen 🙏

moneqazques came back here after all the y/n hype on twitter, what a legend

ynfilms

liked by monegasquez, swiftfeld, loveleclerc, and 67,221 others

ynfilms hard at work; improving day by day.

charles_leclerc Ah so that's why there was a click sound behind me yesterday

ynfilms just doing my job, charlie 🙏

forzaforeva the il predestinato is il predestinato-ing

schumangels Love this ❤️

ynfilms

liked by charles_leclerc, pascale_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 45,667 others

ynfilms out and about in barcelona 🏔️

lecs1655 queen providing our delusional asses we thank you, really

sainzchamp Charles and his pista god what a combo

ynfilms

liked by sainzhero, hamilchamp, leclove, and 23,445 others

ynfilms love you to the moon and saturn :)

landonando MAM???? WERE YOU SUPPOSED TO POST THIS

oconsgirl HELLO???SJSNJJ

grandprizcx im fucking crying so much for soft launches?????

ricciardos My best guess is this wasn't supposed to be posted in this account....

lecshamilt0n posting a picture of charles so boyfriend-y and so intimate to a taylor swift lyric is just so sick!!!

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen, pierregasly, and 1,230,778 others

charles_leclerc I always thought I was just a fan of cameras, turns out, I loved smiling in photos when you're the one behind the lenses. I do not know the first thing about photography, but I do know every picture of you I have deserves to be treasured.

The day you took your first picture of me was the same day you captured my heart. It's been yours ever since.

tagged: yourusername and ynfilms

carlossainz55 Does this mean Y/N will stop being my photographer at Ferrari

charles_leclerc Yeah cause she's my girlfriend yourusername no carlos, don't listen to him

charlosfan god no wonder she captures charles so well??? cause they have each other's hearts???

gaslysgirl Did not think going on Instagram will only remind me how loveless my life really is but ok

sainznorris FINALLY MY PARENTS

yourusername you know what i'm kinda glad i forgot to switch accounts and posted that on my work photography ig (hehe love you, baby)

charles_leclerc More glad than you cause I finally get to show you off pierregasly You put the cheesy in say cheese mate

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, franciscagomes, pierregasly, and 567,212 others

yourusername i was about to quit photography as a whole when i got accepted as a photographer for ferrari. who knew accepting this job when i was on the brink of losing what i was passionate about would only be the reason why i wake up every day doing what i love and living my best life.

bonus: i met the love of my life while doing it 🤍 it was later that i realized i don't just love taking pictures in general, i adored who i was taking photos of.

took a while before we shared with the world what we meant to each other, but the answer to why i capture charles so well — i take photos from my heart, which incidentally, belongs to him.

reputationcl who's cutting onions whhy are there tears in my eyes

sainzoperator THIS SOME SWEET ASS SHIT I CANT TAKE IT

lovingscuderia sleeping on a highway doesnt sound like a bad idea

danielricciardo EVERYONE RUN! The ants are here...

-----------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12

notes: this took like 2 hours lolol lmk what u guys think <3 hopefully i can finish all my wip's and get to the requests hehe thank you for reading :D

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spacebaby1 · 5 months

Text

BEAUTIFUL HUSBAND (Nanami kento x Reader)

Nanamin survived!

Shibuya was in unrecognisable state, and you barley got out of there breathing yet that didn't stop you from pushing the sorcerers that were trying to make you lay on the floor with the rest of the injures.

You managed to walk few feet before falling to week long unconsciousness. After a week you woke up in a hospital bed with oxygen mask still on you looked around to find shoko looking out of the huge window. "Sho," you managed to whisper which made her immediately jump as she turned around with a sad smile, you tried to sit with all your strength and she helped, "How are you feelin-?" You cut her question short as she spoke, "W-Where is Nanami? Is he okay? Did he get out?"

Shoko sighed before she spoke sitting beside you, "Barley, he's badly injured, Y/N very badly, I'm not sure if you are ready to se-"

"Take me to him, please!" You began to get up and shoko knew better than to stop you but she was sure of your reaction when you'll see Nanami; nothing will change your feelings for your husband. Shoko helped you to the room where Nanami was and you went in there without her, holding on the wall for support because you barley could walk from your leg injury, Mahito did a number on you. For some reason the curtain were up when he was the only one there, a doctor left as you entered leaving you both alone.

"Nanami-"

"NO! Go away, please" Nanami snapped as you stopped there confused before you spoke, "Na, it's me-"

"Y/N, just go I don't want you to see me, leave!" Not listening to his words you made your way towards him as you pushed the curtains away, "Why are you acting like that Na?" You asked holding on his bedside looking on the floor before your eyes met his, Nanami looked away and you knew why he didn't want you to go away.

"Na," you gently cupped his uninjured side trying to make him look at you, "Hubby, please look at me, I'm dying to see you." You were in tears but so was he as he slowly turned his face to look you in the eyes which made you smile, "Hello, handsome," you chuckled as tears fell; your signature greetings to him. "What are you doing here with me?"

You took his hand and kissed it before placing your face on it, "I'm here for my husband, I'm here to be by my husband's side, in sickness and health, remember? The only way you would get rid of me is when I am dead and gone, I'm here to stay with you, Nanami, I would die for you, I love you."

He was already crying when you started to cry as he carefully pulled you on his side hugging you with his right hand, you cried on his neck; trying to kisses every skin you got in contact, his neck, his chest, his hands, his shoulders, his face and his forehead; he was still your Nanami and nothing can change that not even all his injuries.

"We need to get out of here and run away to Malaysia," He whispered, to which you giggled nodding before kissing his hands over and over, "Anything for my sweetheart, Anything." He smiled, "I adore you, I love you."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanamin x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami fluff #jujutsu nanami #nanami angst #anime fic #kento x reader #jjk kento #kento nanami

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st-kitten · 6 months

Text

707

next chapter →

WARNINGS: (m.) masturbation, nicknames (baby, babygirl, good girl, princess, pretty girl) little megumi being painstakingly adorable

life as a single father trying to make ends meet was hard for toji fushiguro. his job as a security guard for some company didn't pay much. whatever he earned went into bills, rent, and groceries, leaving next to nothing for him to save or even spend. how he wished there was a simpler way to earn. he'd be exhausted by the time he came home and crashed, only to be woken up by megumi. as much as he loved the kid, getting him ready for school and out the door was harder than an mma fight.

all the babysitters he hired were useless. most of them agreed just to get into his pants so, when they found out that they were hired 'because' he couldn't be home, they left in disappointment.

toji never relied on his neighbours either. partially because they were too old or kids themselves, with parents who also hired babysitters. the closest anyone ever came to being a candidate was his next door neighbour, you.

but he vowed to never approach you. even if it meant leaving megumi to cry midday, over a glass of spilled milk. why?

[flashback]

toji had just helped megumi catch the school bus. waving him goodbye, he went back inside the building. the days got colder each passing day, which meant that he was going to have to repair the broken heater and buy some warm clothes. how ever was he going to afford it in time?

collecting the mail, he stood in the temporary warmth of the elevator, yawning. he really wanted to go back to sleep. his work began at 10 am, so he still had two hours, maybe he could take a nap. or fix that heater himself.

he stood in front of his apartment, looking through his pockets for the keys when he heard muffled noises from the apartment next door. he had only seen you once, when he accidentally took your mail instead of his and had to give it back to you. you always seemed distant and cold, so hearing you softly, yet loudly screaming a series of "yes! yes! keep doing that!" at 8 am made him wonder what the fuck was wrong with you.

he let it slide. people had lives.

but you didn't stop there. when toji came back from his work at night, holding a bag of vegetables, he heard you again.

"oh god! yes!"

and two days later when toji brought megumi home early as he got sick in school, "just like that, baby!" he had to keep babbling random trivia to his son so that he wouldn't hear you. how many times is she going to do this?

when it was toji's day off, and he was taking a nap on the couch, he heard you moaning again. it wasn't that loud, but the single wall between your apartment and his did a terrible job at muffling it. toji was glad that megumi was at school.

[back in present time]

months had passed by and he was still not used to hearing you. he'd forgotten what you looked like, so he didn't recognise you whenever you passed by him or even when you were in the elevator with him. all he knew was that he hated you for being so disturbing.

the day he was dreading finally came when he wanted someone to look after megumi for the night as he had to cover someone's shift, and not a single person was available. with an ale tankard of reluctance, he rang the doorbell, truly expecting you to open it naked, some angry fucker peeking from behind 'cause he didn't get to finish...

so when you opened the door looking the complete opposite; wearing loose sweatpants, a barbie hoodie, house slippers and your hair tied in a messy bun, half a banana dangling in your mouth... toji held back a sigh of relief.

"hey... i'm toji, i live next door," he said, trying to sound sincere.

"i mow woo yooah," you said, chewing the banana quickly, and swallowed it.

"right... listen, i gotta cover an extra shift and i need someone to look after this brat for the night."

you held back a laugh upon hearing him refer to his son like that. you'd only seen megumi from a distance. but, you had no reason to refuse.

"sure! i'd be happy to!"

toji was still unsure about this, but there was no backing out now.

"cool. i'll send him in twenty minutes." toji vanished before you could say anything else. you chuckled to yourself. for a man of his size and built, he sure was a chicken when it came to communication.

you cleaned your living room before he could come back. your place was kid-friendly enough. you made sure you prep the kitchen in case he hadn't had dinner.

your doorbell rang and you scurried to open it.

"here's a list of things you'll have to do... he's... a little tough. but he's a good kid."

you took the list and gave it a brief look and nodded.

"alright, megs, you're gonna be staying with this lady today. i'll be back soo-"

megumi began tugging his father's pants grumpily, upset at his words.

"don't be like that, kid..." toji sighed. he didn't like to exhibit his personal life in front of others.

"please? i'll get you ice cream."

megumi's ears perked upon hearing ice cream. "chocolate?" he cooed.

"yes. now go inside."

clutching a tattered dog plushie (with two heads for some reason), he stepped inside your apartment, looking down.

toji knelt down to meet his eyes. straightening megumi's sweater, he said, "i'll be back tomorrow morning. behave, okay?" megumi nodded, almost on the verge of crying. you held back the 'awwws'.

"alright... i'm trusting you. don't f- mess it up," said toji, looking at you with a glare.

"i won't..." you just smiled solemnly. you'd say the same if you were in his position.

toji wanted to tell you to not have sex for that one night, but he chose not to add fuel to the fire. who was he to tell you not to fuck? if anything, he was mildly jealous that you got to enjoy it so much.

toji left and you turned back to megumi, who was standing in your living room, anxious to move a muscle.

you sighed. "hello, megumi. i'm y/n." you crouched down and held out your hand to him. he hesitated before holding three of your fingers and shaking them. you smiled.

"sorry about this... you don't know me at all and now you're stuck with me. must be weird."

megumi stayed silent. you got up and went to the kitchen, which was open and visible from your living room easily. you opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of chocolate milk that you'd gotten free with something.

"would you like some?" you shook the carton. megumi loved chocolate in any form. not wanting to sound too excited or desperate, he gave a curt nod. you poured him a cup of milk and handed it to him.

"you can sit down wherever you want."

megumi scanned the room and spotted a bean bag. he'd never seen one. he looked at you and then back at it.

"you wanna sit there? sure!" you placed a hand on his head and led him to the corner. you held his cup for him while he tried to sit. he immediately sank into the bean bag, hearing the sound of tiny malleable balls that shifted as he sat down. megumi's eyes widened as he tried not to bolt out of there. when he was settled down, he found it pretty comfortable. he liked how he could stretch his legs and sit at the same time.

"comfy, right?" you said, handing him his cup of chocolate milk. the way he held it with both hands made you want to scream in a pillow. no way that asscrack of a man was his father.

you went over the list once more. it was simple. bedtime was 9 PM, no allergies, likes sweet food, but easily gets a sugar rush, etc. you laughed at the numerous spelling mistakes in it.

"so, what do you like to do?" you asked, sitting down on the floor in front of him.

megumi didn't like talking to babysitters. mostly because they never paid attention to him. he didn't like how they bossed him around. or how they got mad when he asked them if they could play with him. so he would stay silent. nobody ever asked him what he liked to do, so your question caught him by surprise.

he thought about it. what did he like to do?

"paint..."

"you paint?" you asked. you always liked the idea of kids drawing and painting.

megumi nodded. he was obsessed with a box of paints his father had bought him ages ago. the paints were long dried and over. but he still dipped his brush into them, watering them and painting with whatever colour came out of it.

you didn't have paints or brushes that he could use... but an idea struck you and you wondered whether he'd like it.

"wanna paint my room?" you suddenly said.

megumi's eyes lit up with curiosity. won't your walls get damaged? what if he spilled paint on the floor? or on you?

"the walls in my room are sad and empty. i have some paint cans that the painters forgot about when i was renovating. there are some colours still left. what do you say?"

megumi nodded. you got up and went into your room, searching for a shirt you give him as overalls. you pulled out the paint cans from under your bed. you took an old shirt of yours and brought it to him in the living room.

megumi had finished drinking his milk, so he thought he'd keep the cup back. hearing you call his name startled him and he dropped the cup, watching it shatter into pieces. he tensed up and felt his eyes water. you were going to scold him, punish him, maybe even hit him. he deserved it. he broke your cup.

"oh my, are you okay?" you rushed to his side, crouching and checking him for wounds.

"sorry... sorr-" megumi tried his best not to cry. he was expecting an earful at any moment now.

"why?" it was all you asked.

megumi looked at you in shock.

"cup..."

you chuckled sympathetically. "so? cups break all the time."

"i break cup..."

you stood up, unsure of how to convince him that he did nothing wrong.

"okay... you broke the cup." there it was. you were angry. megumi was going to get scolded.

instead, he watched you pick another cup from the shelf. you took the cup, and angling it far from megumi, you threw it.

"and i broke a cup too. guess we're both clumsy..." you shrugged and picked up the pieces, swiping the rest with a broom and tossing them in the garbage.

megumi didn't know what to say. had he really done nothing wrong? it was just a cup... yeah, just a cup.

"come, let's paint my room," you held out your hand to him. slowly, he grabbed it, walking behind you towards your room. your hands were soft and warm. and you didn't pull him or drag him. instead you were walking slower just for him. why were you so kind?

you brought him to your room and asked him to help you spread newspapers on the floor. then you handed him a shirt, helping him put it on since it was huge for him. he looked like a penguin.

"megumi... please, i'll give you more chocolate milk, but can i please take your picture? you're too cute," you asked, clutching your heart.

megumi blushed and nodded, looking away.

you clicked at least twenty pictures of him in your shirt, holding a thick paintbrush, standing on newspaper barefoot. you made a mental note to send these to toji.

"alright, pick your colours."

megumi carefully scanned each colour. then he looked at you. he didn't want to mess up this opportunity. it wasn't every day that he got to paint a wall instead of paper. he wanted to make sure you'd like it.

you seemed the type of person who would appear stern, but on the inside, you were really soft and caring. like a marshmallow. he wanted the room to suit you. being the observant kid, he looked around the room and learned that you liked necklaces, most of which looked like fancy saturns (iykyk). you also liked flowers as there were vases on your nightstand, windowsill and some were on your bookshelves. you also had a lot of books. what really caught megumi's attention was that you had three guitars hung on the wall. your room was totally your personality. he knew what he wanted to paint.

megumi pointed to a few colours and you handed him a few brushes of different sizes. he dipped one in red paint and began painting a few strokes on the wall (only after glancing back at you a hundred times in case you changed your mind). you sat on the bed, watching him focus. he was definitely smarter than kids his age. you admired him.

after a while, you left the room, telling him that you were going to make dinner. curry rice got an approval from him, so you occupied yourself in the kitchen, humming to yourself. you wondered what all he had painted in your absence. you didn't really care about the wall; you only hoped he'd feel safe enough to be a child.

you finished cooking and plated the food, setting on the kitchen island you used as a dining table. you pulled a chair and stacked some couch pillows on it, increasing the height of the seat. you called to megumi, but he didn't answer.

you stepped into the room to call him for dinner again, but no words came from your mouth as you stared at your wall, awestruck.

megumi had painted so many flowers and vines that ran across your wall in different colours. he'd even mixed a few colours and created new ones. he drew the saturn orbs matching your jewellery in the center of some flowers. though he could only paint a part of it and couldn't reach higher, the wall looked full of life.

"megumi..."

he looked at you, anxious to hear what you had to say.

you stood behind him, admiring the wall.

"you made my wall magical. this is so beautiful!"

megumi had a tiny smile on his face.

"you're an artist, gumi" you said, ruffling his hair, and he blushed at the nickname you gave him. nobody ever gave him a nickname apart from his father. people would often forget his name.

he felt his chest swell with pride and happiness. he did a good job.

"let's put fairy lights on the wall!" you chirped and he nodded.

you helped him out of his shirt, tossing it into the laundry basket. you sat him down on the high chair and you both sat down for dinner. megumi liked the food. but he truly loved how you let him be himself without bossing him around. it finally dawned on him that he had broken your cup, painted your wall, and was eating your food and you had absolutely no problem with it. he felt himself breathe freely.

after dinner, he helped you clean the room and stick fairy lights all across your room. you went overboard with it, but when you switched them on and lay on the bed watching them twinkle, it felt worth it.

"we did a good job, today." you gave him a high five.

megumi yawned and you took it as a sign to prep him for bed. toji forgot to give you his toothbrush, so you tore him a new one. you wouldn't dare let a child sleep in the living room, so you tucked him in your bed. you were so glad you bought that expensive comforter because seeing megumi snuggle into it turned your eyes into beating hearts.

upon his request, you tucked in his ominous dog plushie with him and bid him goodnight. megumi fell asleep easily, snoring softly. you made rounds to the room to check on him and felt your heart melt every time. he was definitely an active sleeper. his positions would get bizarre every time and you'd pull the comforter on him properly each time.

you finally slept on your couch around midnight.

toji didn't sleep a wink. the world's most boring job had him awake all night, opening gates for rich snobs who partied and returned to the semi-residential building at odd hours.

the only thing on his mind was megumi. he prayed that you weren't fucking someone with him in the house. he wondered if he'd eaten. he wondered if he was asleep right now. he hoped you gave him his demon dog to sleep with.

when dawn broke, he was out of there. he drove his dying truck straight to the parking and dashed out of the car. he decided to grab his and your mail, just so he'd have an extra excuse to knock on your door.

he didn't bother asking you for a key. he just yanked open the letterbox and it easily came into his hand. he grabbed whatever was in it.

"did you hear apartment 707? so loud.... that too in the morning"

"how could i not? but, im not surprised..."

toji heard two ladies gossip, waiting for the elevator. 707... his apartment was 706, so it had to be you. he was going to murder you.

he sped in and out of the elevator, rushing to your place. expecting to hear the sound of sex, he stopped in his tracks... you were not having sex? your door was conveniently ajar and toji spotted a few empty cans of paint outside.

he opened the door, peeking in, only to see... his adorable five year old son, jumping around and dancing with you to a christmas song, decorating a large tree in your living room. (christmas tree farm by the one and only... blondie)

if toji could explain how much he wanted to giggle at the sight, he would. but he only watched the two of you, leaning against the doorframe, hands folded, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"where every wish comes true!!!" you sang, hanging the ornaments miscellaneously. megumi poked your leg and you picked him up, helping him tie a bell around a branch.

you swayed and danced to the beat with megumi on your shoulders, who laughed loudly.

toji felt his heart melt upon hearing his son laugh. he hadn't heard that sound in a long time.

he looked around and spotted a plate of half-eaten pancakes and glasses of milk. did you drink milk with him? he held back a laugh.

as you turned around, you spotted toji and nearly threw yourself in the tree.

"dad!" megumi chirped, happy to see his father. toji took it as an invitation to come inside. seeing megumi almost as tall as him, he chuckled and looked him in the eye.

"here's your ice cream, stinky," he said, holding a bag full of ice cream cups.

megumi giggled.

toji smiled widely and you sobbed at how cute the kid was. you placed him down and he ran to his father, clinging to his knee. you took the ice cream bag from toji and placed it on the kitchen counter taking the contents out.

[next song: under the tree by sam palladio]

you handed megumi a cup of chocolate ice cream and the uselessly small wooden spoon that came with it.

"which one do you want?" you asked toji who had yawned at least a dozen times by now.

"anything is fine."

you tossed him the pinkest strawberry ice cream cup. he rolled his eyes, but began eating it anyway. you sat next to him on the couch. megumi insisted on sitting under the tree, on the tree-skirt, looking up at the lights and the ornaments from below.

"oh! look!" you said, pulling your phone out to show toji pictures of little megumi in an oversized shirt holding a paintbrush.

"what's this?" toji asked. though his kid looked cute, he still didn't know what happened when he was away.

"yeah, he painted my wall," you replied.

"HE WHAT?" toji asked, surprised. megumi never misbehaved. but i guess he finally snapped.

"yeah! it's so beautiful, i can't stop staring at it," you began mumbling.

this kid ruined your walls and you're happy about it? he thought you'd scold him.

"come, i'll show you," you signalled him to follow you and toji did, worried about the mess his son had made.

he also did not want to see your room, given that he'd heard you have sex plenty of times for it to etch in his mind like a song that just doesn't fucking leave.

he was not expecting for your room to be so... pleasant and unsuspecting. you had a queen-sized bed with fluffy pillows, plants in the room, some equipment on the desk. hell, instead of sex, it smelled like coconut.

you showed him the art megumi had blessed your wall with.

"he's great at painting!"

toji's eyes widened at the intricate designs on the wall. had megumi really painted this? was he this good at it?

"it's... good..." toji didn't know what to say. he felt really sad that his son was capable of something so great and yet toji couldn't do more for him.

you smiled, somehow understanding what he was feeling. it was the same thing you felt about yourself when you realised your love for music.

toji asked you to send him the pictures and you complied. he looked around your room in silence, not knowing what to do. but he decided to address the former elephant in the room.

"can i ask you something?"

"sure," you said, looking down at your phone.

"i don't have the right to pry in your personal life, but... next time you have someone over, keep it down? i don't want megumi to hear... that..."

"huh?"

"you know... what you and your boyfriend do..."

"i don't have one?"

"then whoever you bring home to fuck... just please, keep the volume low," said toji impatiently.

"i didn't bring any... oh, you heard that!" you said as it dawned on you.

"yeah, whatever that is..." toji wanted to hide his face. it felt like giving a child 'the talk'. and you weren't that old too...

"toji..." you called, holding back your laugh. he wondered what was so funny.

"i'm not having sex in here. what you've been hearing..." you almost held it back... "was me recording for quinn."

"huh?"

you sighed as you explained, "it's an app for people who like listening to spicy stories... i'm one of their narrators... i try to pick times when people are busy or not here... but oh my god, i'm so sorry you had to hear that..." you said with a laugh, grabbing his arm apologetically.

toji digested every word you said.

"why on earth would you do that?"

"it pays really well, you know..." you shrugged.

now you had toji's attention. "you get paid for speaking dirty?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"and narrating, reading lines, moaning, whimpering, shouting... the works."

"that's an odd job..." he commented. it truly was. he had no idea things like these existed.

"i'm a singer by profession, so this is just a side hustle. my room is soundproof so i can't hear outside noises, but sadly..."

"you're not ashamed?"

"why would i be? it's great that people like it. you should try listening to some."

"please, no," toji held his palm out to her. he heard you chuckle. "aren't you worried that people might find out about you?"

"of course i don't use my real name."

toji shook his head in disbelief.

"i know you're ancient, but try it someday. who knows, you might end up liking it," you said, showing him the app on your phone.

toji stared at you with a blank face. he wasn't that behind the times, was he? he snuck a glance at your screen, his eyes falling on your username in a corner. embarrassed, he swatted your hand away and you chucked.

"anyway, thanks for looking after my kid." toji got up and left your room as you trotted behind him.

"anytime!"

toji left with megumi, after thanking you once more and making his kid to the same. megumi had definitely enjoyed he spent with you. he wished he could do it again.

a few days passed by and megumi started to become more interactive with you, waving at you, telling about his day when you rode the elevator together, giving you some small sketches he made after you gave him a sketchbook and some colour pencils.

toji still hadn't warmed up to you, but he wasn't as dismissive as he used to be. in fact, he had gotten slightly curious about you. you lived a quiet life, or so it seemed on the outside. but he knew what you did and how unbothered you were about it.

why would people pay to listen to strangers moaning? it seemed bizarre to him. he tried to ignore it.

he was stuck on another night shift, leaving megumi with you. he was glad that his son didn't mind you. and you'd proven to be a capable babysitter. yet, all he wanted was to be near his son. home. the night couldn't get over any sooner.

toji sat in the booth provided to him, watching the streets. nights when people came and went by were just as boring as when nobody showed up. he contemplated taking a nap, but the last thing he wanted was to be fired for slacking off. especially when the night shift paid him a bit more.

he turned side to side in the swivel chair, groaning in frustration. so far, he'd watched eight mma matches on his phone, cussing at how pathetic they were. nothing entertained him enough to keep him awake.

that thing embedded in his subconscious mind suddenly resurfaced, making him gulp in guilt. he could do it. it's not like she'll know... as if he was being watched, toji switched the light off in his booth and discreetly took his phone out, lowering the brightness and pulling out a tangled pair of earphones, and plugged them in. he downloaded that app, signing in with a random email he'd created ages ago.

[mention; compromised: victoria pedretti, on quinn]

he remembered her username and typed it in. not wanting to dwell too much on it, he clicked on the first 'story' he saw. he didn't read the description. he had no idea what he was to expect. thankfully, the audio started with some context. he instantly recognised your voice. based on what he understood in the first few minutes of the introductory chapter, it was a story about an agent watching over the witness she was supposed to protect. he realised that it was a woman x woman story. not that he minded. he just enjoyed listening to your voice. you surely had a singer's voice.

the more he listened, the more engrossed he was in the plot.

"i can stay on the line, sure..." you said, as your character stood below a hotel, at a distance, watching the woman you were on the phone with, from the window, keeping an eye out.

"you're not wearing anything underneath... i might not be the only person watching, you know," you chuckled. your laugh sounded better all over, probably due to the recording quality. toji paid attention to everything he heard.

"...tell me where you're touching...does it feel good?"

"i wanna see your other hand on your breast..."

"do you want me in that room?" your voice was laced with quick breaths...

"now i'm gonna hang up...no, not to touch myself... I don't care that you're close!"

toji sighed in exasperation, truly engrossed in the story.

"wait, shit, there is a man... fuck i think he's armed..."

toji had never clicked on 'next' that fast in his life. okay, he was hooked. when he first heard about this from you, he thought it was just audio-porn. he didn't expect a full on story with a plot, internal monologue, the background noises. it was as if it was happening around him.

the next chapter had you grunt and scream as you fought some attacker. how on earth did she record this shit? was she also fighting in the apartment? he smirked, realising what a double life she was leading.

"i saw that smirk, don't get any ideas..." you said coincidentally and toji had to look around him for a moment.

"you're very, very distracting..." your voice seemed closer whenever the background music got fainter. maybe it was the mic or some technical tweaking. but it really sounded like you were speaking in his ear.

your pants were now mixed with small laughs. it sounded blissful.

"don't ever be sorry for kissing me..." toji was surprisingly okay with hearing sounds of you kissing, probably another woman.

"oh, these lips... can i? touch them? fuck..." you moaned slightly... and then laughed. "did you just bite my thumb? you're so bad... i might have to punish you."

toji had to grasp his phone tightly as heard you make out, hearing your breaths mingled with the sounds of your lips moving against someone else's. you sounded so different, so confident.

"you like that, don't you? me on my knees... touching you, licking you, tasting you..."

fuck

toji knew you were saying this to a woman, but he couldn't help picturing himself in her place. your hums, whimpers, breaths, they were all elevating his senses. he felt his pants tighten.

"yes, fuck..."

"i love your neck..." you panted. toji raised his head, gulping.

"you're so hot... fuck... me..." your moans had started to get louder, breathier.

"what if i don't wanna hurry? what if... i wanna make you beg for it?" toji instinctively let his hand wander down his body, to his pants. he loosened his belt. he slid his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to spring out, harder than he expected it to be. your constant moans, whimpers and dirty words became music to his ears as he stroked his cock slowly.

"tell me how good it feels..."

toji groaned, quickening his speed, his eyes closed, his mind visualising your face. he imagined you doing everything he heard you do on the phone. touching him, licking him, tasting him... he fisted his cock to the sounds of your sweet voice, shamelessly.

"so good..." he hissed, as if to answer you, gliding his fist up and down his thick veiny cock, its tip glistening proudly.

"come for me, yes! yes! yes! fuuuuck..." you moan loudly, dragging the last word, breathing shakily.

"god..." toji gave up any restraint he had and let his cock burst like a dam, spoiling his pants.

he was high. high on your voice, your moans, your words. he wished he could experience it for the first time again.

a shrieking honk from the gate snapped toji back into reality. he zipped back up in a hurry, shoving his half-hard cock in his pants. he tied a jacket around his waist to hide it and scurried out of the booth to open the gate.

toji came home early in the morning, feeling floaty. he couldn't forget last night's events. not when you were right there. next door. probably recording the next one. toji didn't know how he was to face you, but he was damn sure about hearing you again.

and hear you he did. for days. he was finding the plot interesting too. but he was addicted to your voice. how were you so confident? how did you manage to record the perfect moans. did you have help? did you get off just to get a good audio? all these questions plagued toji's mind. he really wanted to ask you about it.

but how was he to do it without sounding like a creep? or worse, a pervert? but then again, you did till him about it yourself.

so, when he had to collect megumi from your house after coming back, he came up with the simplest excuse.

"see you later, gumi!" you ruffled his hair, watching him run to his father, who told him to go inside and wait for him.

before you could shut the door, he shoved his foot inside. "hey, uh... i had a question."

"come in..." you moved aside.

you were hungry, but didn't have the time to buy groceries. so, instant ramen it was...

toji followed you to the kitchen, rehearsing the imminent conversation in his head.

"what's wrong?" you asked, looking at his tensed brow.

"i'm a little starved for cash. megumi's birthday is coming and i want to give that urchin something good this time."

"awww..."

"you uh..." was he really going to ask that? would she even listen? "you were talking about that..."

you on the other hand, knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. so many of your friends had tried to do that same. the fact that toji was considering doing that made the composer in you mildly excited.

"you want to earn cash on quinn, am i right?"

toji's head shot up, looking at you, slightly horrified and ready to get his ass kicked out the door.

"alright."

"wait, what?"

"i'll help you... sell your voice."

"are you serious?"

"do i look like i'm joking?"

"would i even... be able to... you know..."

you leaned on the kitchen island, looking at toji, who had sat down in a chair across from you.

"just do it..."

"you expect me to do it just like that?" he asked.

"what, like it's hard?" you snorted.

toji just looked at you blankly. "you mean, you do it just like that?"

"women are expert at faking it, you know?" you smirked.

toji scoffed in disbelief, rolling his eyes.

wickedly, you began panting, whimpering, opening your mouth as lewd moans spilled out of you. you gripped the edge of the kitchen island, and whined, "yes! toji! just like that!"

toji felt like he'd been shot in the head... both, his heads... he felt a bulge in his pants. hearing you moan and actually seeing you moan were two different things. the way your eyes shut tight, brow creased, mouth opened and chest heaved, toji couldn't take his eyes of you.

you saw his reaction through squinted eyes and stopped, reverting to your normal self, scratching the back of your head, completely unbothered.

"so yes, toji... just like that..." you said, without the moans this time.

toji gulped.

"so, do you wanna record a demo? i can send it to my agent. if she likes it, she'll ask you to record a proper script."

toji sighed... what was he getting into? he didn't actually imagine himself doing it. would it be embarrassing? no, fuck it. he could really use the extra cash.

"no one can know," he said sternly.

"you can use a pseudonym. you can literally put an emoji as your name."

"whatever. as long as nobody can trace it back to me."

"i guarantee you they won't. let's send an anonymous demo, 'kay?"

"fine. but, i don't know how to do this shit. it's too... fucking dumb."

you chuckled. "it is. dumb and fun. but doesn't it make you feel... like a king, knowing that the world gets off to your voice?"

toji scoffed and smirked. oh, how he wished she knew that he had been getting off to her voice nearly every damn night, palming his dick, picturing you saying all those dirty things to him.

he followed you to your bedroom where you had set up your mic, your laptop, you desk, under a labyrinth of wires and cables. he was made to sit in the chair facing the mic. the fuck am i doing...

you tapped on your laptop, leaning forward on the desk. toji's hammering anxiety took a break when he realised how close you were. your tits were practically in his face. he'd only ever seen you in baggy clothing, so this was a pleasant surprise. they were big. but they'd easily fit in his hands. he was a little disgusted by the fact that he was severely attracted to you.

"okay... what would you like to say?"

"i don't know..."

"what are your go-to swear words?"

"uh... fuck?"

"and?"

"i don't swear because of my kid... so, i don't know... this is difficult, y/n..."

"what do you have to fear?"

she was right. what was he to lose? to fear? nothing. he knew how hot was. he knew ladies threw themselves at him. he knew his sex appeal was impeccable. so then why was this so difficult?

oh, he knew why. you. it was because of you. the way he'd listened to your moans all week, stealing glances at you whenever he saw you, and now that he was in your bedroom with you...

fuck that! this bitch just faked an orgasm in front of me without a problem. i can at least spit out a few sentences.

"how do you start?"

"well, i usually have a script and there's good enough build up."

"so, give me one of your scripts."

"really? you wanna say, 'touch my pussy'?"

"fuck no. ugh, this is frustrating," he groaned loudly, leaning back and running his hands through his hair.

"hey, wait, that's good!"

"huh?"

"say it again."

"this... is frustrating?"

"tojiiiii," you rolled your eyes and smacked his arm. "say it like you did before. with the groan and all."

"i can't just do it on command."

"do you want me to leave you here alone with a gravure magazine then?"

toji's narrowed his eyes at her. "you read those?"

"no, but, you get the point."

toji sighed. you thought of another way to get him riled up. if a sexy audio wasn't gonna happen, then an angry one it was... there were plenty of angsty stories in demand. you clicked on record without him knowing.

"stop acting like a virgin, toji," you said and he shot you a glare. you let your mouth run a marathon, "no, for real, you're a grown ass man with a nice, deep voice. you look like you'd be pissed off if someone so much as looks at you wrong. or worse, if someone tries to mess with your son-"

"watch your mouth," toji growled, grabbing your jaw with his fingers, pressing it tightly.

"or what?"

"or you regret ever letting me in this house. that kid fucking loves you. you keep him out of this. do not... ever use him... to use me," he snarled.

you pressed the spacebar to stop recording. toji pulled his hand back, putting two and two together.

"that... was something."

"i mean it."

"sorry... but damn, angry toji... is sexy..." you commented.

"yeah? you like that?" toji said with a smirk. you squealed, regretting not recording that.

"SAY THAT AGAIN." you began recording again.

toji let out a deep chuckle. "you want me to say that again, pretty girl?" oh, he was starting to get into it.

you nodded.

"beg for it..." toji whispered, slightly closer to the mic. he watched you hold back another squeal.

"use your words, baby."

you were almost jumping up and down at how good he sounded. you really wanted to use his voice. you figured your agent would ignore yours and focus on his.

you exhaled, "please, please say it again!"

"hmm..." toji's baritone voice reverberated in the mic. "that doesn't sound so convincing, princess..."

you banged the air above the desk, pursing your lips and grinned.

"please please please! i'll do anything!"

oh, toji was starting to see the fun in it. "anything, you say..."

"yes! whatever you say!" you too were blending well with him.

"get on your knees, then baby..." he said brusquely.

your jaw dropped, morphing into a wide smile as you silently cheered him. toji found your reactions entertaining. true, you'd been doing this longer than him, so you were probably used to hearing all that. you were genuinely enjoying him.

you gave him a thumbs up and he made his closing statement, making sure to murmur, "good girl..."

you stopped recording and grabbed toji by his shoulders, shaking him. "AAARRRRGGGH. you are a natural!!!!!"

toji smirked. that was oddly easy to do. mostly because you helped him into it.

"well, i'm not one to brag..."

"no, please brag."

"heh. do you think your agent will like it?"

"she will eat it. she will want to become it."

"how much do you make exactly?" he asked.

"i had to do a lot of small freebies until i got my big break. i made [good amount] per episode. i've done three stories, each with twelve chapters. im working on a fourth one... so it's incomplete."

that must have been the one toji had listened to the first time. he did click the first thing he saw. he'd been replaying the first three episodes over and over, coming undone to them. but now that you'd said there were more...

"that's actually very..."

"rich, right? i was surprised too."

"so, you're gonna send it to your agent now?"

"yep. she'll like it. under what name do you want it?"

toji thought about it. he couldn't have this traced back to him. not with megumi's life at risk. it had to be something entirely random. yet meaningful...

"how about... 707?"

you grinned. that was a smart pseudonym. "done."

"well... tell me how it goes. and once again... not a word about this in public. what happens in this room, stays in this room," he warned you.

"WAIT SAY THAT AGAIN!"

toji chuckled as he stood up to leave and rejoin his son. before he did, he inched closer to you and whispered in your ear, "beg for it, babygirl."

you groaned and flapped your hands, fanning yourself. "you're so good at this!"

you'd sent that clip to your agent and got a response from her a few days later. to say the least, you were surprised by her request.

so, you stood at toji's door, phone in hand. he opened it.

"'sup?"

"it's my agent."

toji shut the door behind him, not wanting megumi to hear anything.

"what'd she say?"

you simply held out your phone and the text she sent you.

'WHO IS THAT?' 'GIRL LOCK THAT MAN IN THE BASEMENT' 'he's got the job if he wants it. i just got a killer script! the only condition is'

toji raised an eyebrow at the last message.

'you both have to do it together'

#toji fushiguro #toji #fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x y/n #smut #megumi #Quinn #spicy #neighbours #asmr

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tojisun · 7 months

Note

OMG ive got smth else for u

Give by sleep token is sooo biker!simon coded ahhh😩😭😭

I AM THE SHADOW, YOU ARE A PASSENGER

IF YOU WANT TO GIVE, THEN GIVE ME ALL THAT YOU CAN GIVE

I WANT TO TASTE YOU BETTER

anon u are too sick for this one now im genuinely spiralling??? how do i move on!! HOW DO I LISTEN TO SLEEP TOKEN WITHOUT ENVISIONING BIKER!SIMON???

this fits sooo well with that one consistent brainworm that wont let me go since it manifested – it’s from when i was answering honey’s ask!!

how a subset of biker!simon is him and you being friends for a while but you’re with a partner who doesn’t appreciate you and love you the way you should be, and simon ofc doesnt wanna just be like “i can treat you better sweet girl” BUT ONE DAY HE WHISKS YOU AWAY WHEN YOUR PARTNER DID SMTHN THAT ENDED UP WITH SIMON HAVING SPLIT KNUCKLES, HIS HELMET STRAPPED ON YOUR HEAD, AND HIM AND YOU ON HIS BIKE AS HE DRIVES YOU AWAY AHHHH

on my knees right now???

the way you’re crying in his arms, pressing your face on his back and it’s a little awkward because of the helmet and simon’s feeling the ridges of the visor dig into his back, but god simon’s trying his best not to explode. trying his best not to just swerve into the nearest empty lot because he wants you as far away from your shit of a boyfriend.

and when he finds an empty park, away from the suburbs and from the bastard who made you cry, simon pulls over and tugs at your helmet to take it off before scooping you in his arms and tucking your face on the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. he holds you close and he holds you tight, letting his silence wrap around you. he kisses the top of your head, breathing you in, feeling his own blood calm down because you’re in his arms now. safe, loved, cherished.

the way when you ask him why’s he being too kind, too considerate, simon bites the words that threaten to spill because you deserve more than a rushed confession. so he just presses a kiss on your forehead and tells you he’ll always be here for you. always be here to help you throughout.

you end it off with your boyfriend that same night, your body shuddering with sobs but god you feel better. feel lighter.

and it’s gradual – the way you fall in love with simon. the way your eyes see him as more than your best friend, more than your platonic soulmate. and you’re scared to fuck things up, but god the way simon looks at you, all adoring and reverent, makes you weak.

the words spill from your lips on a thursday morning when you dropped by simon’s place only to see him tinkering on his bike in the garage.

you’re about to crouch down and settle on the floor the way you had always done before but pause when simon tells you so.

“i got y’somethin’,” he says, blushing just a bit. you watch as he walks towards the cleared-out corner of his garage, just noticing the covered lump there.

he turns to you with a smile and tugs at the sheet, revealing a pretty, pink, velvet loveseat.

“so you don’t have to sit on the floor w’me,” he says after a while, taking your silence for confusion.

“it’s… mine?”

simon laughs, something boyish. “yeah. all y’rs, doll. i’m used to the hard surface but i see you rubbin’ at your ass when i take too long so i got you this to help out.”

what the fuck?

he blinks. the smile slipping from his lips. “i mean, you don’t have to use it.”

fuck. you said that out loud? stupid-

“no, si, oh my god! it’s perfect!” you scramble to tell him, practically running towards where he’s standing. “i’m just- i don’t know- no one has ever-”

to your horror, tears began pooling in the corners of your eyes. simon stares at you in surprise, his face falling as worry lines his beautiful features. you try to assure him that you’re doing okay, but a pathetic wet sob lurches out of your throat instead.

“fuck,” you say, aggressively wiping at your weeping eyes. “i’m so sorry for this, si. i just- i fucking love you so much and i don’t know how to-”

you startle when big hands pull your fists away from your eyes. you see simon staring at you in shock.

“you love me?” he asks, almost breathless like he is afraid of being wrong. afraid that if he spoke any louder, it will lead to you rejecting him.

but how could you ever?

“i do,” you tell him. “i love you so much, si. i think i always have-”

he cuts you off again, but this time with his lips. his big and callused hands are gentle as they cup your cheeks, pulling you closer to him like he still can’t believe that you love him back.

“i love you too, sweetheart,” simon murmurs on your lips when he finally pulls back, your breaths passing through each other in gasps. “i fuckin’ love you.”

so clearly i went fucking bonkers-

SORRY IT GOT TOO LONG MY GOD

#suns.hc #biker!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #anon #ask #suns #IM ACTUALLY GONNA SCTRSM AND CHEW ON MY FIST HHDHWJENEJJE

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star-girl-05 · 4 months

Text

Mornin'

James Wilson x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

Wilson has always been a morning person. Waking up over an hour early so he can have a calm morning before work. You on the other hand are always snoozing your seven alarms before finally rolling out of bed and rushing to get to work. It doesn’t matter if you go to bed early the night before your just not made for mornings. Its a fact you’ve grown accustomed to.However now that your dating early riser Wilson your trying to change your ways. The task is proving harder than you originally thought.

The last three days you’ve been dragging yourself away from your bed at the hellish hour Wilson wakes up. Your downing a gallon of caffine to off set your lack of sleep. It works well giving you that pep but you find yourself day dreaming about your bed.

Its ironic the whole reason you wanted to start waking up early is so you could spend a few more minutes with Wilson. Just the two of you chatting while getting ready, it was going to be so nice. Now though your finding yourself resenting the dope. How can he just roll out of bed and look so absolutly breathe taking at FIVE in the morning. No one has any busniess looking that way at that TIME. Then theres the fact that he is so productive on only one cup of coffee at once again FIVE AM. Its absolutly not fair.

“Honey its time to get up” you seriously can’t do this anymore. You lazily open your eyes finding wilson, the sight of his soft smile and lack of eye bags is your final straw.

“I can’t do this anymore” your voice is thick in sleep, your eyes barely open.

“What baby?”

“You, just looking at your face is making me sick” you tuck you head into the pillow trying to reclaim the sleep he just woke you from. While you try to let sleep take over you Wilson is starying down at you with the biggest eyes. He’s completly confused, did you just break up with him and then go back to sleep? Hes quickly shaking you again pulling you from your sleep again.

“What did you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said, your face is making me want to vomit” your not understanding whats so hard to understand.

“I’m- why are you mad?” he was so helplesly clueless at what was happening. If you wern’t so tired you would have noticed but right now your eyes are barely opened.

“WHY AM I MAD? I’m tired” your voice comes out much more whiny than you intisapated. “Its not fair that you can wake up so early and be so productive. No one should be able to roll out of bed and look as good as you do.” he can’t help but smile his chest no longer filling with anxiety at the thought of you no longer loving him. He’s fianding this adorable. “I go to bed at the same time as you and still i wake up so tired, not to mention my black eye bags. All want is a few extra minutes with you but…” your words die out as tears stream down your face.

He quick to wipe them away relaying soothing words, “Baby its okay, just breathe for me” You do your best, trying to listen to him.

“I’m sorry I don’t know why I’m crying”

“Don’t apologise” he moves back into bed slipping under the covers, wrapping his arms around you. Your quick to snuggle into his embrace, nuzzeling your head into his neck. Instantly being calmed down by his scent. “Why don’t we do this ever morning?”

“What me having a breakdown?” his chuckle has you pulling him closer.

“No, us cuddling I’ll wake you up and we can just cuddle for a few minutes. Then I can get up and you can go back to bed for a few minutes.” You just nodd, already finding yourself drifting off.

#dr james wilson x reader #james wilson #james wilson fanfic #james wilson imagine #james wilson x reader #james wilson fanfiction #dr james wilson #dr james wilson fanfic #dr james wilson fanfiction #dr james wilson imagine #house fandom #house imagine #house fanfic #house fanfiction #house md #house md fanfic #house md fanfiction #house md imagine

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itsmealaiah · 24 days

Text

"cigarettes during sex"

TW: smoking, profanity, arguing, soft sex, missionary, smoking during sex, lung damage (stay away kids), AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, p in v sex, angst, praising

Request: Can you do where tom and the reader get into an argument and hours later the reader wakes up and sees tom on the balcony smoking tom sees her and grabs the reader and fucks her while he is smoking a cigarette

Rating: mdni, mature themes ahead!

WC: 1.5k holy ghits and shiggles

"It is not my fucking fault you are a fucking bitch!"

Tom yelled harshly, his hands rising above his head as your eyes flared with anger. "Me?! you're the one who can't fucking to stop going near women, even when you have a fucking girlfriend, who has always been there for you!" You fought back, pushing a finger against his chest.

"Everytime, you seem to be clinging to those women, those snot-nosed, desperate blondes whose boobs are almost all the way out of their tiny little dresses. I'm sick of it tom" you snarled, and he laughed harshly.

"They always cling onto me! I'm a famous guitarist, for gods sake! What do you expect me to do?!" Your eyes began to water, but you didn't break the eye contact, staring right back at him in anger and sadness.

"Push them away! Let them know you have a fucking girlfriend who is at home, sitting and waiting for you everyday, being the perfect little housewife" Your voice broke on the last word, and you began to cry.

"Am I that terrible, that you have to hang around all those girls? That you have to sit and laugh at their jokes, while I don't even know? Am I that bad of a girlfriend to you?" You accused him, tears spilling from your cheeks like a waterfall.

His eyes widened, and he tried to take your hand. "honey, n-no" he said shakily, his brown pupils begging for you to forgive him, but this wasn't like the other times. He had broken down your trust enough, you weren't even sure he wasn't fucking those slutty whores on tour.

"it's not enough this time" you sighed, wiping your tears and gazing up at the ceiling. "i've told you so many times to stop, and you haven't. where do you think that leaves me?" his heart was breaking, the one thing in his life he loved the most was seemingly slipping through his grasp, all because he couldn't keep his hands off the girls met in those clubs.

He felt so bad for you, you really were loyal to him. You barely went out anywhere without him by your side, and you never dared to even wrap an arm around another man, which he adored you for.

"I'm sleeping on the couch tonight" you proclaimed, and his heart dropped. "Yo-you don't have to do that, honey, please. just sleep with me" he begged once more, grabbing your hands in a desperate attempt to convince you. "Wouldn't you rather be with those sluts? They obviously seem to be more important to you than me" Your words stung, each one a dagger to his heart as the reality of the situation settled in. He had fucked up, big time, bigger than ever.

You pushed past him, going into the hallway closet and grabbing a cover and pillows, putting them onto the couch. His hand gripped your shoulder, and you shrugged it off.

He began to cry softly, and made his way up to the bedroom you shared, grabbing a pack, and walking out to the balcony in shame. He held his head in his hands, and sobbed, his shoulders slumped and shaking. He slowly took out his lighter, and began to smoke a cig, tears still running down his face. He inhaled the smoke, and let it blow out of his mouth, his lips now swollen and wet.

A few hours went by, and your resolve had given up. You missed tom, even though what he done was very, very wrong, you never stopped loving him. He made you feel secure, safe even. You slowly approached the bed, lying on your sound with a gentle thump, burying your head into the pillows. Tom was still out on the balcony, the sliding door closed. He didn't notice you as you gazed at him deeply, trying to see him more clearly.

He looked like he was crying as the smoke encompassed his face. You slowly rose from the bed, and opened the glass door gently. He turned his head, his eyes immediately beginning to water. His hands held out for you, and you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his head, stroking his hair gently as he sobbed into your waist, the cigarette far away from your midsection. You pulled his face away gently, your fingers gripping his chin as his eyes burned into yours. "c'mon" you mumbled, and dragged him to the bed, his frame lazily lying on top of yours.

He kissed your lips softly, the cig stomped out. You kissed back, feeling the wetness of his face meet your own. You held his head tightly, holding it down to meet yours. Your eyes were squeezed shut, giving your all into the kiss as a "sorry", even though tom should've been the one.

He began to nip at your neck, his hands caressing your body slowly, rubbing up and down your waist as you moaned. He bit against your sensitive spot, and you felt yourself getting wetter underneath him. His arms guided yours upwards, and he slowly took off your shirt, leaving you in your thin bra. He kissed between your boobs, causing you to let out a strangled whine. "shh honey, just let me take care of you, let me show you how much i love you, it's the least i can do" he looked into your eyes, kissing your breast through your bra, gently rolling the other between his fingers. You nodded weakly, and he smiled, pulling down the clothing on the breast he was sucking, now swirling his tongue around the areole as you gasped.

He was going to make this as gentle as possible, like make up sex. You deserved it, for how he had treated you. His arms wrapped around your back, unclipping your bra, your nipples now fully exposed to him. He began to lick on the other, swallowing it in his mouth as your eyes reeled.

"oh-" you whimpered. He knew truly how to pleasure you. His mouth left your hardened breast, and he stood up, lighting a cigarette. He quickly stripped his clothes off after, and lay back down on top of you. The smoke blew into your face as you scrunched your nose. He laughed softly, and put the blunt into your face. "smoke this honey, okay?" you were hesitant, still deciding as he tore down your shorts and panties. He softly gave himself a couple pumps, his mouth opening in pleasure.

He slowly guided himself in, being careful as not to be too rough. His hands held your hips as he pushed in, watching your cunt take him, your walls gripping him. The smoke of the cig left your mouth in short blow, only minimal huffs coming out as the pleasure built up. He began to thrust slowly, the bottom of his dick coming in and out as he made sure you adjusted to his size.

He moaned, and started to thrust a little harder, the cigarette nearly falling out of your mouth as your lips parted in pure pleasure. Tom quickly pushed it back in, and his grip on your waist returned, his hips meeting your own. He groaned, but his pace remained the same, too scared to hurt you even more. He watched your face contort from the bliss, eyes squeezing shut as you brought your hand up to your lips, holding the cigarette. "you're so pretty, fuck" he mumbled, taking away the cig and kissing your lips, the taste still sitting in your mouth, embedding his own, but he didn't care.

"harder" you moaned against his mouth, as he cocked an eyebrow. "you sure baby?" he asked for confirmation, and you nodded. He slowly pulled all of him out, before viciously sliding back in. He slowly crushed the cigarette with his hand, more focused on you then the potential burn on his soft skin. His balls slapped harshly against your ass as you moaned loudly, the feeling completely encompassing you.

"rig-right there!" you squealed as he hit your gummy spot, now only hitting that area as you screamed, legs wrapping around his waist, letting him hit deeper inside you, your walls now less tight. His head buried itself into the crook of your neck, biting at the skin. He left dark, purple marks on your once clean skin, not letting up on his assault against your spot. "clos-close!" you stuttered, feeling your legs began to tremble on his waist. "you can cum baby" you moaned loudly, releasing on him as he soon came after, and he brought his head up.

He grabbed some tissues from the bedside table, wiping the spilling liquids off you, and he pecked your lips. "from now on, i swear on my goddamned life, i will never go near those groupies again" he promised, hugging you tightly until you drifted off to sleep.

He kissed your forehead, and rest his head atop it, sleep overtaking his body minutes after you. "never" he mumbled.

Taglist: @madzandmore @20doozers @itsangelll @tomssexdoll @laylasbunbunny

Taglist 2:@billslittlewhore @brooke-tomsschlampe @ballhair @charliesgoodboy @tokio-motel

Taglist 3: @tomsonlyslut @kqulitzlvr @ccbunnv @billsdolliest

Requests are open! keep sending them in!

Comment on masterlist post to be tagged!

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz #tokiohotel #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #itsmealaiah

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welcometomyoasis · 2 months

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Seventeen with an s/o who experiences hyperfixation

Synopsis: How seventeen would help their s/o through hyperfixation/ hyperfocus episodes. Svt x gn! reader | fluff, comfort, established relationship | 1.6k words | warnings: hyperfixation, hyperfocus, stress, mental health issues, neglecting self-care, food | requested by @4momorin Disclaimer and a/n: I do personally experience hyperfixation episodes so I am aware of how this feels like. Hyperfixation/ hyperfocus can be caused by several factors and are usually symptoms of ADHD, or mental health issues such as anxiety, OCD, depression etc. It’s not inherently good or bad either as it can manifest itself in many different forms. You can read more here. I hope I did this trope justice? I wasn’t quite sure how to write it without making it too angsty so i just split it into 2 broad groups…

☾𖤓 He’s your anchor. He holds you down firmly when you feel like you’re adrift at sea.

Seungcheol, Junhui, Hoshi, Dokyeom, Mingyu, Dino

➵ Honestly, he wouldn’t really realise you’re beginning to spiral into one of your hyperfixation/ hyperfocus episodes. It's not because he’s not observant or in tune with your emotions. Rather, the objects of your fixation are so so varied. Plus, not all your episodes are negative. There was the time you ate a particular food for weeks until you got sick of it because you found it so tasty, or the time you binge watched a 16 episode show in 24 hours because you fell in love with the plot. Ah, and don’t even remind him of the time where you fell in love with a certain character. You were drooling all over the character, buying their merch, changing your lock screen. Like, he’s right there? You can kiss him and hug him, he’s a physical being. Please give him attention and not that fictional character. Yea, he was all sulky and whiny for the entire time you were obsessed.

➵ You’re just such an easily excitable, adorable person with a big heart. It’s only natural for you to be obsessed over different things at different times. At some point, he’ll realise that you are in the middle of your episodes. But as long as it’s not an episode stemming from stress and you’re continuing to take care of yourself, he really isn’t going to intervene. Your fixations will pass eventually, and you’re happy, healthy, eating and sleeping well (even if you stay up longer because your mind is swimming with thoughts about the object of your fixation). That’s all he could ask for. In fact, he will even encourage you more or indulge you in your fixations. You want the same food for 7 days straight? He’s ordering it on his phone for you. You want to watch the same show again although he’s already sick of it? Sure, whatever you say baby. You want merch of that character? Uhm, he’s kind of crying inside but sure… he’s pulling out his card just for you. If keeping you happy through your fixations will keep you happy, he’s willing to do whatever it takes.

➵ He will only intervene to attempt to pull you out of your hyperfixation episode when he thinks your wellbeing is at risk. Your mental and physical well being is his number 1 priority. And admittedly, there are many times where your hyperfixation episodes manifest themselves negatively. You could be hyper focused on work that it’s causing you so much stress. You’re not eating, sleeping. You barely have time to relax. Or, your episode could stem from anxiety, depression, etc. You could be pouring all your time and energy into something as insignificant as a cup that was placed in the wrong cupboard because that’s just how your mind has decided to cope with all the complex feelings you were dealing with. It’s a transference of your jumbled emotions to something else. The worst part? As insignificant as your fixation might be, in your mind, it can feel like you’re on a sailboat adrift at sea. It’s captured your attention so deeply that your mind is in overdrive, the currents in your mind constantly pushing you forward. You end up floating further and further away into the middle of nowhere, where there’s nothing to be seen for miles except the object of your fixation. It’s as if you’re staring into the horizon with no land in sight.

➵ So, he intervenes. He’s your anchor. He’s going to ground you, and help you stop your mind from drifting too far away. He’s going to be firm, but gentle. He will tell you outright that your hyperfixation episode, it’s hurting you. He doesn’t care that you might get angry at him for prying, or if you get defensive and deny anything is going on. He rather you express those emotions at him rather than for you to bottle them up inside. You need help. That’s what he’s here for. Please understand this isn't a confrontation, it’s an intervention. He’ll stand firm (even if it means pestering you) until you cave in and let him help you. Cry to him, rant to him, use him as a bolster, whatever makes you feel better. He will pamper you so so much and treat you like royalty. He needs to make you feel loved, like you’re heard, like your feelings are valid. His presence and his care for you will help you feel a little better, even if you’re not completely pulled out of your hyperfixation episode yet. It grounds you by helping you ease that helpless, airy feeling that you’ve been dealing with. It’s certainly going to take time to completely get over your hyperfixation episode, and it won’t be easy, but please know that he’s here for you, and you can overcome whatever it is you’re going through together.

☾𖤓 He’s your gentle ocean wave. He lightly nudges you along when you feel stuck and feel like you’re about to sink.

Jeonghan, Joshua, Wonwoo, Woozi, Minghao, Seungkwan, Vernon

➵ As you begin fixating on something, there are both subtle and obvious signs your boyfriend picks up on. You’re more distracted, your eyes glaze over occasionally as if your mind is far away. You’re becoming more quiet. You’re lost in your thoughts because your mind is whirring with information, or because you’re desperate to get more information when you’re in that “i must research everything phase.” Of course, there are more obvious signs. You could be researching something specific for hours and hours on end, or you could be showing him the specific object of your fixation on your phone regularly. You could also be mentioning something more frequently. There was once you mentioned the same food stall 4 times in a row in the span of a 5 minute conversation, and this continued for a few days. And then there was the time you went on and on about your horrible progress in your school project for days until you finally submitted it.

➵ Usually, your boyfriend knows you’re having a hyperfixation/ hyperfocus episode before you do. It’s an unconscious thing your mind does, and sometimes you don’t even realise your hyper fixating on something until days or even weeks later. But he knows, and you can be sure he will keep a close eye on you from that point forward. He’s more than happy to stand to the side and let you ramble or babble on about your new favourite show, food, object. He thinks it’s cute how your eyes sparkle and come to life when you find something interesting, and he loves it when you come talk to him about it. It makes him feel so special and loved because he’s one of the most important people in your life, a person you’d so willingly share your joy and interests with. Actually, what makes him the happiest (even if he doesn’t say it), is when you begin to hyperfixate on something positive related to him. There were times when you would go down a rabbit hole of sorting through your old photos and memories with him, and times when you would hyperfixate on him (or have you always been hyper fixated on him?). As irrational as hyperfixations can be, to him, he thinks it’s rational, and endearing that you go through phases where you would just be extra clingy and affectionate to him. It makes him fall in love with you all over again when he sees just how much love you have for him.

➵ He will take a more delicate approach to your hyperfixation episodes compared to the previous group. He takes note of all the signs you exhibit when you begin to spiral. He will also assess what you’re going through at the time and your behaviour. There are times when you suddenly get into a new show when you have a whole bunch of work to do or when you’re horribly stressed. Other times, you have this overly hyper, happy smile plastered on your face when you continuously bring something up, and he can tell it is a happy facade you put up as an attempt to hide the emptiness in your eyes. It’s your mind’s way of protecting you and dealing with your emotions. You’re avoiding the root cause of your problems and jumbled emotions by fixating on something that makes you feel like you’re not you. Shows, food, characters, a new game, these things help you feel other emotions and it makes you feel other emotions besides anxiety, stress, depression. Then there are also times when you’re so stressed and burnt out dealing with work where you’re just sitting at your desk staring at your screen blankly while your mind goes into overdrive trying to force something out.

➵ As soon as he realises you’re spiraling for negative reasons, he’ll try to do all he can from becoming sucked into the deep abyss of your mind. For you, it feels as if you’re approaching a whirlpool, you are stuck and all you can do is let the current pull you in. You don’t have the physical and emotional strength to swim away and fight it. So he acts as a gentle ocean wave, he wants to change the direction of the current. He’s going to be that outside force you need to help you steer away from the whirlpool. The moment you exhibit the signs of a spiral due to your deteriorating mental health, he’s sitting you down and taking you into your arms gently. He understands your hyperfixation episodes are intense, and sometimes, even with him there, there’s no real way of breaking you out of it immediately. But, that’s no reason not to try to help you avoid it. He will ask you if you want to talk about it. If you do, he’ll be listening so attentively and empathetically while holding you like you’re a delicate raft about to break against the rough seas. If you don’t, he’ll take you out and pamper you. You could go for a walk to clear your mind, or go on a date. Whatever it is, he’s going to be doing everything he can to keep your mind occupied with other things and off your complicated emotions. With his help, you’ll get through this quickly and safely. And you’ll bounce back stronger than ever.

taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2 @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @treehouse-mouse @vcutparis @heavenfilm

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carakook · 3 months

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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.

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