Tumgik
#But I really wanted to get this out bc idk i like how it reflected canon
skitskatdacat63 · 7 months
Text
Boy King AU | Vettonso + Martian | 1.3k
There's something about putting the future emperor of the Holy Realm on his knees like this. About how easily he goes, how willingly, how obediently. What would his adoring public think if they could see him now. If they saw their beloved king pressed down like this, in the cramped space between Fernando's legs. When they realized their little boy king took it like he was a little concubine instead. 
Fernando's bitterness is lifted away in moments like these, like taking off a heavy cloak on a winter's day. It was hard to feel humiliated about his own situation when watching Sebastian debase himself like this. 
He always gives himself up so easily. When Fernando threaded his fingers through his thick curls. When he pulled them, and then when he pressed his face down further down into the vee of his legs.  Sebastian rubbed his cheek into the coarse fabric of Fernando's breeches and blinked up at him. Fernando had to smother an embarrassing sound; he was just like a little cat!
Sebastian quirked his lips up into an odd little smile and slightly rose up on his knees, "What's funny?" Fernando swallowed lightly and schooled his face back into being impassive, "Nothing. As you were." Sebastian simply smirked at him and let himself be pushed back down by the fist clenched in his hair. 
Fernando scoffed internally, there was only so much pleasure in putting the other man in his place when he instead acted like this, this degrading action, was his birthright. He took to ruling and indulging in carnal pleasures as if they were of equal gravity. To be privileged to hold such high station and also let himself be taken apart like this…Fernando felt embarrassed for him.
He is dragged away from his musings when Sebastian moved to settle his hands in Fernando's lap, clutching his hips over the fabric and slightly squeezing; Fernando fought against the urge to shiver. Sebastian pushed up the skirt of Fernando's waistcoat and smoothed his hands over the opening flap of his breeches.
His eyes darted up at Fernando again, a daft smile on his face. Fernando scowled at him, "What?" Seb's grin sharpened, "You could stand to be a little more gracious. This is your future emperor, and future husband might I add, kneeling for you on this dirty, depraved, derelict- ah–" Fernando tugged on his hair again and hissed, "Well then, why don't you show me how eager you are to perform your marital duties?" 
Seb licked his lips, completely unconcerned by Fernando's annoyance, and unbuttoned one side of the closure to Fernando's breeches and moved to open the other–
The door to the carriage flew open, arrival announcement dying on a wheezing breath as the servant took in the image the two kings made. One splayed across the seat, exuding power, the other kneeled, debauched, between the former's legs. 
One would be hard pressed to determine which was higher on the totem of power and titles. 
There was something gratifying about this to Fernando, about being caught. He had been humiliated enough throughout the entire courtship, what was one more thing? And, certainly, what was one more thing if he could drag Sebastian down into the dirt with him. 
"Oh Mark, don't act so abashed! It's nothing you haven't seen before, in fact, we have been in this very position not even a fortnight ago!"
Oh. Yes. That. 
It was hard to be completely pleased when he remembered how Sebastian had already spent years prior to their engagement sampling the palace's ample selection of fellow high-born men. And how all those men seemed to be completely and utterly wrapped around his little finger.
Fernando released his hand from Sebastian's hair as if it had burned him. He did not understand why he felt ashamed with Mark looking in on them like this. Fernando was the one marrying Sebastian, not Mark; Mark was just a lowly courtier who had the esteemed duty of spending practically every waking hour with the brat…something he himself was decidedly not looking forward to. 
Sebastian stayed kneeling, staring impassively up at Mark, still fiddling with the clasp on Fernando's breeches. Fernando gritted his teeth and looked up from where he was watching Sebastian's clever little hands; Mark stared back at him placidly. 
Mark's indifference made the entire situation worse. Fernando now felt as if he was not doing anything unique, not doing anything particularly new. How many other men had Mark caught Seb with in this exact position? Fernando felt like he was just another plaything of the boy king, soon to be boy emperor, except his position was forever, permanent. He was the "Kept King", the king who only kept his throne due to the whims of a boy who doesn't even understand what power is.
Mark coughed, "Well," he says, "Your Majesty, I do believe you have a meeting to attend." Seb pouted at him and whined, "We were just getting to the main course," but still braced himself on Fernando's thighs and got up off the carriage floor. 
Seb pranced down the steps Mark had placed next to the carriage, miming tripping sown the stairs, snickering when his action made Mark reflexively reach out to grab him, and then playfully skipped off the final step. 
Fernando couldn't help but stare as Mark made the weirdest grimace in response, and he inexplicably felt all his mortification seep away from him. Huh. Maybe Mark is-
Seb then turned around and frowned at him, seemingly disappointed, but his eyes are deceivingly sharp, "Fernando, I regret to inform you that I have other duties I must attend to, you will simply have to wait." He then grinned up at Mark next to him and giggled as the other man stiffened when Sebastian looped both of his arms through Mark's. 
He leaned all his weight on the other man, Mark not so much as shifting his weight, "Oh Mark, won't you carry me back to the palace? I'm so very tired after all the horse riding," Seb looked up at him imploringly.
Fernando observed as Mark rolled his eyes and shrugged off the man, though notably not pulling his arm from Seb's grasp, and he got the distinct feeling that this exact scene had been played out countless times before. 
Fernando clenched his jaw as he watched Seb turn and saunter off, Mark trotting alongside him like a loyal dog. Fernando was supposed to be the unaffected one in this partnership, the unflustered one, the unconcerned one. And yet here he stood, in broad daylight, in a foreign kingdom, on the steps of a carriage with his breeches half unbuttoned and his cravat in disarray. 
He heard a cough from beside him, jolted and looked to the side. Sebastian's loyal Horse Master stood there, lounging against the side of the carriage. Fernando had forgotten who had even been driving the carriage in the first place. After Seb has let himself be pushed down, his hair still windswept from their ride together, everything else seemed to fade away. His thoughts were reduced only to how he could mess up the younger man's hair further. 
Jenson grinned at him wolfishly, and casually crossed his legs,  "First time?" he inquired. Fernando glared at him. The other man laughed openly at him, "What? He's a busy man with big prospects. You're not his majesty's only conquest, you know. Now your throne on the other hand…"
Fernando seethed, it was one thing to be humiliated by the future emperor, but to be patronized by the king's horse boy? No. It would simply not do. He closed his eyes in annoyance, pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaled, and prepared a speech about how he was not about to be talked down to by a man who didn't even have a throne to speak of! 
But when he opened his eyes again and opened his mouth to begin his tirade, Jenson was already wandering away to tend to the horses. Dios mío, Fernando was not mentally prepared to spend the rest of his life with all of these impertinent morons. 
#i love how i kept saying to people: no no i shant write any fic for this. only art.#me like two weeks later: hey guys :)#this is just: i was sitting in class and had a drawing idea but then im obv not drawing *this* in class so my brain went into narrative mod#not exactly 'baby's first ficlet!!!' but moreso ive not written in a while so i hope its alright???#but aaahhh this was actually pretty fun!! idk i think it was bcs i was also being brainrotted by the image of seb kneeling....#maybe ill draw it. but it felt like something that needed the context of narrative and not just oo here is a drawing!#anyways you can always ask me for a directors cut-(PLEASE PLEAE BEGGING PLEASE)#see this is why im not cut out for writing fic#its not like i dont think it can speak for itself. more that im just an overly reflective person who wants to explain all my thoughts#if i wrote fic itd really be just: chapter 1. chapter 1.5 chapter 2. chapter 2.5#anyways i think its pretty obvious but this is before their wedding and just like peak bitterness.#well not peak. peak would be the first year- first few months of their marriage#but this is fernando who is only just realizing how naive all his expectations of seb were and getting a glimpse of his future#but mostly: mindgames and power play and: whos actually really winning?#also my god jense is literally the best chara in this au. he is vibing and basically just witnessing ye olde reality tv#mark and fernando are always in a weird powerplay with seb(even if seb isnt even consiously doing so) and jense is just free from it all#hmm now how does one go about tagging fic#vettonso#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1#formula 1#martian#sebmark#also idk why im always so concerned abt tagging when im basically just writing this for my little boy king following i have somehow formed#hahaha! it is art to me!:#catie.art.#boy king au
62 notes · View notes
tortellinigirl · 2 years
Text
I feel like recently, ADHD has kind of become shorthand for “a person who is annoying online and has no real problems,” and I don’t really think that’s awesome news, given the context that ADHD has a long history of being disregarded as a made up disorder that’s just an excuse for poor/obnoxious behavior, no matter how much scientific research proves otherwise. ADHD is not by any means the only disorder that has people making a thousand misleading tiktoks about it, so perhaps do some critical thinking about why specifically ADHD has become the poster child for that behavior. There are certainly valid criticisms to be made of the way we discuss mental health online, but maybe use your brain and determine why this disorder in particular is the one that’s easiest to point at for being “annoying” and “not that big of a deal.”
#idk maybe if u actually watched a couple of the tiktoks u might learn that the lack of focus thing is reall not the main issue#its just what the people around us are most likely to notice and be bothered by#not saying it doesnt get obnoxious seeing people say the same thing over and over#and yes some people are like purposely vague and disingenuous about the symptoms to get views from people thinking they have it now#but i see that with everything. like autism PTSD depression OCD anxiety#im always getting tiktoks saying that im a lesbian or i have repressed memories or “x normal thing is a symptom of y disorder!!”#and yes its annoying but its probably somewhat helpful to people who actually are dealing w those things#and also like. if u simply stop treating ur for you page like a crystal ball that sees into your soul and reflects it back#and realize its just an algorithm designed to make u interact whether thats bc u like what u saw or fucking hated it#then u will not be as bothered !#but yes our generation seems to have a habit of constantly trying to find the right box to out ourselves in so we can be like. “marketable”#like people seem to want to design their personality like an movie character or something#but its so shitty that we’re dog piling all that on ADHD as if our specific disorder has anything to do with it#also personally i think its kind of normal to be really focused on a particular aspect of your identity when u just discovered it#and it usually evens out and just becomes part of the background of your identity#but yes there’s often a problem with pathologizing normal things#but i think its important to recognize that lots of things that are normal occasionally are pathological in excess. like thats how it works#like we’ve all been through how being sad sometimes is not the same as depression#why cant we grasp that occasionally going into a room and forgetting why you’re there isnt the same as ADHD#my posts
750 notes · View notes
gayspock · 5 months
Text
not to sound like a cunt but i swear like 2 jokes about something will get passed around and then a load of dipshits will start twisting that everyone is so Utterly Vacuous... god forbid if every post you post to your tumblr blog is not an indepth reflection of your thoughts and feelings. for your tumblr blog is reflective of your Inner mind and soul and you must summon yourself to the Calling of crafting the most perfect and eloquent analysis of the video essay that dropped 2 fucking days ago .
#egg.txt#this is about the hbomberguy shit soirry lol#like i see one or two jokes abt haha he took them out )#and then suddenly its like: THE WHOLE CONVERSATION IS JUST ABOUT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU MISSED THE POINT#DUDE its like a 2-3 ppl on tumblr who made joke posts that got traction#not to mention yes: ive seen MANY ppl posting abt how sad and unfortunate this all is#but those posts arent gonna get traction bc theyre quiet fuckin reflections on a topic for now#as such yeah bro the tag is dominated by jokes that really arent that serious.#idk ugh sorry to be such a twist im just soooo sick of the vibe everyone brings of like:#i see lighthearted jokes in this tag. HOW DARE YOU ALL DO THIS. YOU ARE ALL SO FUCKING STUPID AND YOU TAKE NOTHING SERIOUS.#like yes its a serious topic but again .... TWO GOD DAMN DAYS AFTER THE VIDEO DROPPED NO LESS... the thing thats gonna ALWAYS float to the#top of a tag is quick jokes.#and besides its like if you WANT to have those conversations thats great??? like cultivate them bro??#WHY not cultivate them instead of dominating the conversation with how stupid everyone is and how above them you are?#idk man its not just abt this#its abt sooooo much with the fuckn culture some ppl foster on this website#its the exact same with sillier shit like media#where some ppl think that u reblogging jokes abt a show / sth is like THE ONLY THOUGHTS YOU HAVE ON SOMETHING#blah blah blah you have such a superficial opinion of the characters and so forth#like relax. i just prefer to have discussions abt things not on my blog#jesus wept some ppl are desperate to think everyone is stupid
20 notes · View notes
qasian-tech-support · 4 months
Note
Please ignore if I clicked the wrong blog to respond to.
But I also want new Megas and Protomen :(
RIGHT?!?!
I mean, yeah, the Megas also have their takes on Skullman's theme ("Cracked Skulls"; inspired by MM4) and Chill Penguin's theme ("Chill XMas"; inspired by MMX), and I guess there's also one based on Storm Eagle's theme ("Rougmer Storm"; MMX), but I haven't listened to that one yet.
Like, I get that they have a good story arc to cover the first 3 classic games, but it would be so cool if they explored some of the themes of the following games, y'know? Or flesh out the MMX or other series music! Or hell, pick and choose some Robot Masters and make a new narrative, or like literally anything, please, people are starving over here! And it's not like they aren't still active. Don't get me wrong, I love their Castlevania stuff under the Belmonts label, but it would be nice to get Mega Man content outside of just remixes/remasters of their existing songs. Plus, they're still doing concerts, so like the audience is there for it!
And as for the Protomen, I hope that they actually end up releasing Act III at some point. Having listened to The Fight, it makes me crave it to an unhealthy degree. I love the grimdark kinda take on Mega Man that focuses more on the role that humanity takes in all of the conflict. I feel like that angle gets extremely neglected in Mega Man media.
Idk, as a fan, it's just kinda frustrating how neglected mega man gets. Like, it feels like the rare times whenever we do get content, it focuses on the first three or four games (if we're lucky), and then it just dies off! Or goes dormant for a decade or more. The franchise has so much creative potential that just isn't realized and it's so sad!
#hoping praying everyday for more#oh god and like just how foundational both bands have been for the creative efforts for the classic series#the archie comic even references The Megas a few times!! I GAVE YOU HAIR (ROBOTIC HAIR)#imagine the potential with a Bass focused narrative! or Quint! or Dr Cain!!#and Capcom themselves arent free from scorn here. if they encouraged more creative efforts a la the archie comic it could stimulate#even more interest in the series beyond just jumping and shooting. like that helps to build an evergreen fanbase#and i mean more than just XDiVE. like i find XDiVE charming yeah but like. Im not seeing the profits from being put back into mega man stuff#having friends that have gotten me back into transformers really makes me reflect on Mega Man. i get that transformers has toylines and MM#is more game focused and that def makes a difference but like. the amount of comic series and issues that help flesh out the transformers#universes. for MM we get like 55 issues for archie? 'indefinite hiatus'? bro we know the sonic stuff brought MM down with it just say 'dead'#let IDW take up the license and get Ian Flynn to come back. i know we likely wont get ArchieOCs like Tempo back but like#idk.... it hurts bc i know how good of a job the archie comics were. its hard to imagine a reboot that isnt basically identical in story to#archie. esp bc how much love was put into tying in with the side content like the hand held games. but surely something could be done#somehow it could be continued. find some kind of Genesis Wave-esque mcguffin to change the OCs out. retcon the sonic stuff out completely#i really dont want to see MM1—MM3 needing to be revisited *again*. its like a Dr.Wily/Sigma in their own right for how much it comes back#like thats prob what kills a lot of creative endeavors tbh. the themes and events are so foundational that theyre nigh inescapable#I'm just.... tired..#i have so much love for mega man and so many chains holding that love down
2 notes · View notes
Text
was going insane at a friend last night now I need to research transness in the 70s and all that fun stuff so I can be fully unhinged and maybe actually write smth for once instead of being haunted by visions
#grem screams#I love history#I love reading and learning about the past and the people#I love seeing the way things have changed the way things reflect and parallel and diverge#I also just really like queer history#I love learning about the ways people existed and shit#idk theres just smth so cool about people in spaces that aren't really talked about in regular history classes and like learning about them#I might be a lil cringe boy art student who cant help but romanticize shit because hes full of feelings but idk it got me feeling#sometime of way#idk lately ive been feeling like I cant quite find the words to describe what I am I just know I am what I am#and that often people just get it or they dont lol#ngl this all started off as me vague posting about wanting to write a trans genda scout from tf2 fic and getting wya too invested in how#that would work logically bc it needs to be accurate#it needs to be a journey!!!#and I want it to be in charater#but im also a lil bitch for angst lmao#im also a nerd lmaooo that and its hard for me to write things dow n with out it sounding wrong or just not right you know?#it feels wholly too earnest and cheesy to my own ears and it makes me shrivel up like a popcorn left in the oven#uh anyway I think trans scout is neat actually and I would love to see more explorations into it guess im gonna attempt to be the change I#wanna see in the world lmao#idk hes just so easy to grab and dunk into the#world is fuck being different is hard give 200 dollars sauce you know?#veeerrrry easy to project onto the trans angst is he is like sponge and I am a vicious liquid#and he has daddy issues lmao apparently arcording to my very small sampling size that tends to happen side by side#and idk I think it would make sense for scout to just straight up not know a lot of shit he gives#me when I was in middle school and I thought it was funny to trick people into thinking I was a guy even tho I was totally a girl /sarcasm#he gives deep in the denial sauce but also totally extremely uncomfy when people find out and getting unreasonably happy when hes called si#but ahahaha nooo im totally a girl haha and just feeling more awkward now#lmao#sorry for the rambling lmao idk if this is accurate for his charater I do think him being trans could be a fun thing to just explore and sh
4 notes · View notes
bumbleblurr · 2 years
Text
picture of tf:a shockwave standing next to megatron with an arrow pointing to him labeled "lmao this idiot doesn't know his leader would kill him without hesitation if it was convenient for him"
#thinking abt trial of megs#shockwave's like the second most loyal dude but he was one of many that was not willing to die to power that ship#(lugnut was the only one that jumped in on his own)#its like wow. i wonder what was happening in his mind at that moment <3#of course i dont like how short lived that moment is and the fact that it would end his appearances in the show#(or maybe not. i think there were supposed to be more eps with him idk s4 plans are weird)#of course it would be so so much more interesting if he managed to get away from that and is forced to reflect on everything he believed in#like haha i hope he gets to have a bad time. i want that creature to be put through through the wringer. throw him into the microwave#shockwave redemption arc needs to have him suffer so much with mental despair bc i said so#though also i think the only main way for him to really shake him enough to change is to have him rlly pushed to the breaking point#such as his leader trying to kill him#especially that since it rlly makes it so shocks cant rationalize any ideal that megatron is looking out for his followers#though i guess u can interpret many things he does/other details as shockwave already having the capacity to deflect#such as megs not trusting Shockwave to control the omega supremes#somehow he knows that Shock's loyalty is not strong enough to prevent risk of him resisting meg's command#which is accurate based on the events of trial of megs#and the almost sad tone of voice he has when talking abt arcee (though this could be a bit of a stretch but i like to interpret it as such)#oh & also how he tries to peacefully get the codes from arcee as much as he can but megs was clearly in her line of vison#but that would also be megs being dumb. and also definitely be another stretch of an interpretation#shruggies idk putting all these bits and pieces together is still inch resting#i am being a hypocrite though bc im like#''i dont care for interpreting Megatron to be much more of a sympathetic figure than he is in canon (does the same with shockwave)''#listen its different. shockwave is a cutie pie#i am biased. i just simply like shocks more than megs#🐝 could you repeat the last part? 🟦
10 notes · View notes
apricotesque · 1 year
Text
i deserve multiple awards for being able to sit through midge's storyline in this season actually!
#not to be dramatic!! but!! my god . . .#her writing regarding her feelings towards shy up until his wedding was. STUNNINGLY inconsistent idk#like everything from her revenge monologue to her anger and bitterness towards him except for that?? one singular scene#where she cries upon finding out about his wedding?? and idk maybe the purpose of that scene was probably to illustrate that despite#her resentment she still feels remorse for him but the way it was executed in the context of the rest of the plotline just felt#really out of the blue#and the way she acted at the wedding . . .#i will admit her apology towards him in the bathroom went a lot better than i thought it would? like it felt more resolved than i expected#but i honestly still struggle with how to perceive her apparent anger at him beforehand#i feel like it rests on how midge's “i was angry you left us on the tarmac because i wanted to apologise to you on the plane”#is meant to be intended?? if it was supposed to be seen as some kind of 'plot twist' like gasp she was angry bc she didn't actually get to#express her regret and explain herself towards him!! in that perspective the execution still felt. kinda poor#if it was supposed to actually be expected (although that's. probably unlikely) the execution also felt. quite poor 😭😭#god i don't know but i did still get the feeling that the gravity of the situation should've been reflected on more instead of focusing#on how bitter midge felt towards him the whole time#like. she TRULY fucked him over lmao i really have no other way of saying it she really messed him up#a very soft part of me wants to see it positively resolved in some way at least in the next season#but also at this point i have lost QUITE a bit of faith in the writing 💔💔#anyhow. idk. rest of the season was fine ig?? still processing but hey i discovered 'someone to watch over me'#ella fitzgerald's cover is very lovely :'')#the marvelous mrs maisel#na.txt
3 notes · View notes
Note
AITA for sending in a fandom ask no one clocked? I know this probably sounds like bait, but I feel genuinely guilty.
I had read the FAQs before submitting but I also think I perhaps overestimated the reach of the 2018 Peter Rabbit movie. I didn’t think I could come right out and say “yo I’m a rabbit btw” so I omitted perhaps the most obvious tell but I was watching it on repeat at the time and I guess I had just assumed everyone would catch on.
I also didn’t think that saying I was a rabbit would ever get the ask posted bc it goes against the guidelines, but reflecting on it I also think there’s a difference between how you treat a person and how you treat a wild animal you’re not aware has real person feelings that would impact the voting and reaction so idk.
I didn’t feel guilty when I submitted it and I thought it was funny until I saw that people were getting (what I perceived as) really distressed about it in the notes. I guess I didn’t realise how bad it sounded until I had taken the context away. I know this is probably silly and I probably inflated the reactions in my head, but I still feel really guilty about how passionate the reactions were and possibly causing anyone to feel stressed like that irl.
This has been weighing on me awhile. I didn’t find the actual post until the voting had already passed and it was too late to add info so I’ve decided to ask in here if that’s ok. In my defence, it was about a scene that I always genuinely felt was weird, and the results did justify it haha.
So, AITA?
Anon you GOTTA tell me which it is because neither I nor apparently anyone else clocked it at ALL holy shit
But yeah, this is a good illustration of why you want to clearly telegraph in the last paragraph that this is a fictional submission, especially if the subject is more obscure like that
427 notes · View notes
Text
Fionna’s World
SPOILERS!!(idk how to do the see more thing so I’m doing this instead)
So I want to talk about Fionna’s world. When I first saw the trailer I knew that obviously things were dialed down for the other characters as well as Fionna. Like there’s no candy kingdom and Gary(eugh) isn’t super important politically in any way.
What I didn’t expect is that it’s not just that Fionna’s life is in the slumps. Everyone’s is. Based on the intro for episode 1, Gary and Marshall are going to be main characters as part of Fiona’s world.
Those two are also struggling like Fionna. Gary doesn’t run or own the bakery like I thought he would, he just works there and Butterscotch doesn’t let him be creative in creating ANYTHING even tho Fionna, Marshall, and LSP think his sweets are delicious.
Marshall also isn’t a part of a famous band or is well known and liked for his music; he’s just a street artist who’s unknown and barely getting by.
ALL of these previously successful and relatively happy characters are now boring and stuck just like Fionna is. Marshall and Gary may have excepted it, but they’re clearly not as good as their counterparts. Hell, we know they aren’t even now because we see how happy PB and Marceline are in Simons universe.
As people have pointed out when the trailer dropped, a lot of things in Fionna’s world are messed up. The buildings don’t line up, the sidewalks don’t line up, cones are upside down and it seems wrong. Clearly something happened to Fionna’s world that messed up everything and left everyone miserable. The other characters also have dreams about their Adventure Time counterparts, but Fionna is the only one who is actively against living the life she is.
I’m really interested in learning what created Fionna’s world all wrong. I think it has something to do with Betty leaving but I’m not positive as there hasn’t been a lot of facts yet.
Edit: Omg wait what if, since Ice King created Fionna and Cake, him turning back into normal human Simon made everyone else normal and human. But before they were the magical counterparts and so bc they changed to reflect the state of Simon, it messed up their original world.
590 notes · View notes
carakook · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
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.
235 notes · View notes
thatfreshi · 8 months
Note
Appreciate the Astarion works!!! 💙💙💙
If you'd like another request, what about Tav gifting him something that allows him to see his reflection? Idk some kinda spell/amulet/potion? They're already to the point where he feeds from them or in a relationship and he's just beyond touched/ shocked they would do something for him like this? (Bc we know he's not ever had the most kindness shown to him)
he's been living rent free in my head and I just want to give him everything his undead lil heart desires.
Recommended Song: Mirrorball - Taylor Swift
(I just started listening to her music and holy shit this song is so them!!!)
It's late, the perfect time of day for the two of you. You and Astarion and out in your backyard, putting out some new furniture that he haggled for today. It's hard to say no to that smile, you would know. As you move nice chairs around debating where you should put them, you get into a playful argument.
"I know you're like, the house decorator, but gods why can't we put it in this corner?"
"Because darling, it'll ruin the feng shui. We should put the chairs here instead, and keep the plants over here."
You roll your eyes.
"I bet you don't even know what feng shui means."
"I don't, but it sure sounds fancy doesn't it?"
You giggle.
"What, I'm laughable because I don't know one tiny phrase? I bet there are plenty of words you don't know."
"Well, I don't know them, so I'm not worried about them."
You saunter over to him, throwing your arms up around his shoulders, and the two of you stare at each other for a moment.
"You know our anniversary is tomorrow right?"
"How could I forget my sweet?"
"I don't know, maybe the way you forgot what feng shui means."
"Okay, ouch. But yes of course, I have wondrous plans for the two of us."
"Okay but you can't have that good of plans because I really need to make sure you don't one-up this."
You walk back into the house for a brief moment, grabbing a scroll out of your bag.
"When I walked away while we were at the market, because I said I got tired of hearing you argue with that old lady? Well, I found this."
You hold the scroll out, and he gently grabs it out of your hands.
"I tried to get Gale to teach me, but you know I'm not very magically inclined so..."
He unrolls the scroll, reading the scrawled writing.
"This is-"
You cut him off in excitement.
"Mirror image! I thought maybe you could use it to make a reflection of yourself."
He stares at the scroll in shock.
"How much did you pay for this?"
"None of your damn business."
You grin at him, knowing all too well that you paid that guy way too much.
"This is very sweet my dear, I... I don't know what to say."
"Well you don't have to say anything, try it!"
After reading for a moment, he goes to cast the spell. He says a few words that go right over your head, and suddenly there were three more Astarions in your backyard.
"Gods!"
Astarion's cry of shock echoed through, all four of him? You're not quite sure how this works. After getting his bearings, Astarion looks around at his three reflections.
"Wow, this is certainly... wow."
You're so excited, you can finally show him all the little details you like about him, he gets to see how gorgeous he is, the list goes on and on.
"Okay, I have to do something funny, because I NEED you to see your little laugh lines. Hm..."
He furrows his brow at you, wondering what you're planning. And then you tickle his sides, causing an eruption of laughter.
"Quick, look!"
As he's still smiling, he catches a glimpse of one of the reflections, the little crow's feet he gets when he laughs.
"Oh, that was so important you had to attack me? If anything they make me look old."
"Well... you are kinda old."
He playfully pushes your shoulder. After the two of you quiet your laughter, he stands staring at one of the reflections, taking it all in. The eyes, the hair, trying to remember what he used to look like.
"What do you think?"
"I think... I think it's fitting."
He snarls to look at his fangs. Astarion has never seen just how menacing he can be, why people listen to him when he's threatening. You don't see anything scary though. Maybe you used to, long long ago. But now, he's just Astarion. That's all he has to be.
"This red really is quite bright."
He says, commenting on his eyes.
"Yeah, they're nice though. Piercing."
"At least my hair looks as good as I think it does. All my efforts haven't been wasted."
And just as fast as they came, the reflections vanish, fading out of existence. It's just the two of you again.
"Damn, I thought it would last a little longer."
You frown a little, wondering if it was really worth it. Astarion catches your glance, realizing your doubt. He tilts your chin up and cups your face in his hand.
"Even if it was short, it was a wondrous gift darling. I appreciate it, truly. Besides, now I know what kind of handsome devil you've ended up with."
"Yeah, trust me, I know."
You wrap yourselves up in each other, locking lips, somehow sharing your gratitude for each other in kisses. He gets a little handsy, and you jokingly whisper to him.
"Should've done this with the reflections."
He laughs quietly.
"Oh hush."
You end the evening tangled up in each other, and he seems to be more sure of himself than usual. Turns out seeing yourself after two hundred years can do something for the ego. Maybe one day, you'll find a more permanent soluton, but for now, one little scroll is enough. He's enough. You're both enough, as long as you have each other.
441 notes · View notes
tempobaekh · 9 months
Text
Bakugou Katsuki dating a hyper feminine fem!reader
(who is also the human embodiment of Barbie)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x hyper-feminine!fem!freader Warnings: fluff, maybe ooc bakugou? idk, the pictures at the top DO NOT indicate how the reader looks, reader is a Barbie dolls collector idk if that should be a warning I’m not good at this, there is nothing specific body type, hair texture or skin color described Note: Since I watched the Barbie movie I have been OBSESSED with it and hyper-fixated on it, so this idea came to my mind. I am not good at writing/writing headcanons so if it's bad please don't mind it. But do let me know what I can do better in the future.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hyper and girly gf x grumpy and anger issues bf
Or la la la and ok ok ok
That’s literally you two
Dating someone who is hyperfeminine and is literally the human embodiment of Barbie would be an interesting dynamic for Bakugou
But yknow the saying ‘opposite attracts’
First time meeting you Bakugou would be utterly baffled at first by your pink-themed wardrobe, sparkly accessories, and bubbly personality; it would be completely alien to him.
At first, he might find you overly cheerful and appearance-focused. However, over time, he would begin to appreciate your confidence, bubbly personality, and unique traits (and also your odd obsession with collecting Barbies)
He might even secretly enjoy your knack for fashion and makeup although he will never understand your obsession with the color pink
OCCASIONALLY might let you do makeup on him bc he loves you too much to say no to you
Glaring at his reflection in the hand mirror with pink eyeshadow on his eyelid “I look ridiculous.”
but will literally threaten you if you tell someone what he doesn’t know is that you secretly took a picture of him with the pink and glittery makeup
Bakugou often reluctantly let himself get dragged by you to go shopping INSISTING on holding all your bags for you walking with you like an intimidating guard dog
Yknow that tik tok trend where a girl has night walking privilege and then they show their intimidating boyfriend walking with them? Yeah that’s you guys anywhere y’all go
Will glare and almost physically get ready to fight someone if they look at you oddly or comment on your appearance
The outfit contrast is COMEDIC between you two when you guys go out
Bc like you are all pink, bows, frills, sparkle, gems, and smiley
While he is all black, in large jackets, combat boots, hunched over shoulders, and a scowl on his face
Yall definitely get looks and double check by people
He will definitely give you self-defense lessons bc even though he is always there to protect you he needs to know if there is a situation where he can’t be there to protect you which is NOT often you can defend yourself
“If I’m not there to beat up some shitty idiot, at least you can kick some ass.”
“But I thought you would always be there to be my knight in shining armor.” you would say teasingly
Gets dizzy every time he sees your closet he's dramatic bc it’s all shades of pink, glitters, frills, and sparkles 
Pointing at your high heels; “How the hell do you walk around in those death traps??”
Bakugou ALWAYS remembers every little thing about you
Like your favorite food, flower, color that is really obvious or snacks, he even remembers your favorite Barbie from your huge Barbie collection
Bakugou would struggle to express his feelings in words, but his actions would speak volumes he will go out of his way to ensure your comfort and safety, and his subtle ways of affection always make your heart flutter
Surprises you with an intimate candle-light dinner with a big bouquet of pink roses
“Don’t get used to this mushy crap, okay?” he would mutter with a small smile
And you would pinch his cheeks “Who knew you were so cheesy Katsu.”
And you appreciate his ways of showing affection 
Bakugou once surprised you with a limited-edition Barbie that you had been wanting for a while and you cried
Y'all's dates might involve a mix of Bakugou’s preferred activities and your interests/ideas
So it’s a different type of date every time and each of them more fun and sweet than the last
Bakugou uses a few different pet names to call you by:
Doll/Dollface: Bakugou, at first, used the nickname with a hint of sarcasm but it evolves into an endearing term
Barbie: While this pet name seems like an obvious choice, Bakugou playfully uses it to acknowledge your resemblance to the iconic doll
Babe: A more casual and common term
Sunshine: He uses this term to acknowledge your bright and positive personality, even if he’d never admit that you have a positive influence on his mood
Princess: Bakugou might reluctantly use this pet name when he is feeling particularly soft towards you, even if he’d never say it out loud in public might let it slip once or twice
When you heard about the Barbie movie coming out you were SO EXCITED
Talking Bakugou’s ear off about the film and begging him to come with you
He is too whipped and can never say no to you so of course he is coming with you
You already had your outfit and makeup picked out for the film and also chose a Ken outfit for Bakugou fucking imagine him in the mojo dojo casa house Ken outfit with the fur coat SKSJSKJSJ which he hesitantly wore just to make you happy
He was definitely not enjoying himself by being your Ken no definitely not
He also bought you the Margot Robbie Barbie as a gift to surprise you and you swore you fell even more for the ruby eyed man in front of you
So in conclusion Bakugou loves you a lot and will do anything for you no matter what it is or how ridiculous it is
Tumblr media
Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback is appreciated.
Tumblr media
777 notes · View notes
jokersaciid · 11 months
Note
I���m new here, can I request miles morales x gn reader who’s very stupid? I’m talking Karen from Mean Girls 😂 (As an example)
Miles and his himbo headcanons.
miles morales x black!gn reader.
warnings .. bad writing bc idk how to write dumb people ☠️
miles didn't know you very well, but from what he's seen he found you very attractive.
he asked you out on a date and you response was " for what? "
after you two started dating he got use to your airhead behavior.
while on dates he forgets you lack common sense ( no shade no shade ) and asks you questions.
" i'm so bored, there has to be something we can do. "
" ... do you wanna go to taco bell? "
...
sure he gets use to it but others dont and tend to make fun of you.
miles is always there to protect you from bullies especially if it's excessive amounts of bullying instead of light teasing from your friends.
" you know, it's like i have spider sense too. "
" really? how? "
" it's like, i can tell something is hot when i see steam coming off of it .. like that cup of coffee, it's super hot right now. "
" you- you're so right, [ name ]. "
he just lets you live your life and he loves you for you.
sometimes he doesn't have the patience for you but he tries his best to keep his temper.
you're smart sometimes but most of the time you're a himbo and lack common sense.
whenever you drive a car he has to be prepared to take over in case you get distracted by your reflection in the mirror.
he is now in charge of all types of transportation and dates, you literally can't be trusted to do anything except sleep, eat and speak.
you forgot how to breathe a few times and he thought you were gonna croak.
he honestly wants to lock you up in your room and never let you leave for the safety of people around you and yourself because you're too clumsy to be a real person.
he swears you're some sorta robot or alien.
in conclusion— ur a little dumb and he loves it <3
566 notes · View notes
blue-jisungs · 2 months
Text
SO I DANCED
author's note. im sooo proud of this one like?? both the banner and the fic huhuhuhuh idk man
word count. 1597
summary. you and your fiancé have rather... unusual ideas how to sped your dates. and making money during it.
warnings. petnames, cursing, stealing (money and a car), mention of chan carrying a gun and shooting but it’s not mentioned whether he killed someone, general illegal actions lmao, mention of blades but they’re not used!! ++ it seems chaotic but i kinda wanted to reflect the mv ++ black haired mullet chan with a lip piercing (you know EXACTLY which one) bc it deserves a warning itself ^_^ 
Tumblr media
if someone asked you what activities you and your fiancé do during dates, your answer would be: “normal, couple stuff”. 
for example going to the movies, cafe hopping, walks in the park, shopping… 
and that wouldn’t be a lie. 
what you do on your nighttime dates, however, you wouldn’t dare describing to a stranger nor even a friend. 
maybe after all you and chan aren’t a normal couple. 
“you ready? because i swear to god if you suddenly remind yourself that you left water running at home… and you actually didn’t… i’ll choke you with my own hands” chan grinned teasingly but you didn't feel threatened at all. 
“it was just a one time thing, dumbass. i’m ready” you nodded and turned your head, resting it against the headrest. “let’s go?”
chan leaned over and pecked your lips, the cold piercing in his bottom lip grazing over yours. 
you two left the car and the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance roared, like a hungry predator hiding in the bushes. dark clouds took over the evening sky, a wide palette of greys and navies spreading above your head. cold air is hugging your body while a gentle gust runs through your hair.
“in and out, quickly. i really wanna know how that hospital playlist episode ended” chan murmured and threw you a black mask. you caught it mid-air and hid in your pocket, alongside a switchblade. 
there was no way of putting it softly, only very straightforwardly: you and your financé did robberies. what started as a joke when you were out drinking turned into… well, this.
chan patted his holster and then did a dramatic bow, letting you go first. 
it was a small bank in the suburbs and your fiancé got their blueprints beforehand (he said something soonyoung helped him get them and you decided to trust him), therefore you already knew how to get to the vault. and the plan was quite simple – and usually made up the day before.
for example, today, you’re just going to pretend to be a unsatisfied couple who is going to nag to see if their money is safe. chan had a huge talent to persuade people into doing what he wants… paired with his dangerous aura (mostly thanks to the lip piercing and dark makeup), it could only lead to success. 
walking in, your boyfriend joined your side and intertwined your hands together. giving it a gentle squeeze, he lead you to one of the assistants available. the other three must have been in a break – or so the silver “be right back!” signs in their counters suggested.
“hello there, how can i help you?” the young man behind the glass greeted you in a monotonous voice. the air inside the building was chilly, a pleasant hum of air conditioning (and something that sounded like elevator music) playing in the background. 
“we wanted to see if our deposit is safe. we heard various rumours about this place and we won’t leave until we see our money in a secure place” chan said sternly, causing you to nod. well, straight to the point.
the worker sobered up and looked at you. chan let out a grunt and pulled you closer. 
“let’s just go get the manager right away, sweetie” you cooed at the boy, making your fiancé’s lips turn upwards into a derisory smirk.
“i… uh… okay!” the worker nodded and off he went. chan leaned in to place a soft kiss on your jaw, the cold mental grazing against your skin.
“so far so good” he hummed, his cologne filling your senses. 
the worker arrived and chan didn’t care – he pecked your jaw once again before slowly leaning away. 
“are you the manager?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. the man nodded, looking you in the eye coldly. to be fair, it was late. you’d wanna go home too. 
“let me get this straight… you want to see your money?” the worker asked, letting out a deep sigh. now it was your turn to nod “and may i know your name?”
“we put the deposit on my name. pi cheolin” chan answered unbothered, putting an arm around you. you had to hold your breath in – no matter how many times he’s gonna use the fake name, it’s still going to make you snicker. 
“ah, yes” the man nodded, checking something in his papers. then he glanced at his watch “whatever. how much did you put?”
“twenty million won” chan grinned proudly. the manager checked the time again.
“fine. i can only let one person in, though” he said and looked between you two. chan nodded.
“i’ll go. it won’t take too long, right? go start the engine, sugarbear” he hummed and stood up. you watched him follow the manager and quickly after they disappeared behind a door, you decided to go back to the car. if chan told you to start the car, it could only mean one thing. 
you put on some radio, nervously shifting in the driver’s seat. usually, you were the passenger princess and you’d prefer it stayed that way… but hey, maybe it won’t be that bad? 
suddenly, the bank door burst open and you saw chan running with a black bag. 
let the race begin. 
he yanked the door hantle and almost jumped into the seat, causing you to immediately hit the road. chan let out a yelp of surprise, closing the door. good thing he was fast with it, otherwise you might would have lost a mirror. 
“it’s not our car either way…” he let out a dramatic sigh, wording out lost what you were thinking. he put the bag between his legs and turned around in his seat. you just changed the gear to the next one, ignoring the speed limits “go into the city, we’ll be able to lose them”
“do you think they’ll call backup?” you mumbled, glancing in the mirror. chan scoffed, shaking his head.
“by the time the backup arrives, we’ll be drinking wine on our couch. put the pedal to the metal, sweetcakes” your fiancé sent you a toothy grin. 
you glanced at the gear box, then at the growing red arrow on the speedometer. 
you were on the highway, it was quite empty. deciding to mess with chan, you purposely took your foot off the clutch a bit too fast after putting the highest gear. this caused the car to jerk forward and chan – who was without seatbelts – bonked his forehead against the headrest. he looked through his arm at you.
“yah” he scoffed in amusement and returned to observing your tail. they seemed to not catch up, which was great “the exit is soon, don’t worry”
“it better be because my heart is about to jump out of my body” you gritted your teeth and your knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel. 
chan suddenly opened the window and the wolf-alike howl of the wind hit your ears, your hair flowing in every direction. then, he took out his gun and leaned out of the window.
“chan–!” you yelped and were met with a gunshot ripping the air. he quickly leaned back, his back hitting the seat with his chest rising up and down irregularly.
“the exit!” he suddenly grunted and pulled the steering wheel – not enough to take a sharp turn but to lead you towards it. 
“sorry, i was just shocked by my fiancé using A GUN?” you grunted and felt - somehow - relieved finally entering the grounds you know. 
“i aimed for a tire… and it worked, i assume” chan breathed heavily, running his fingers through his black hair “we’re fine, y/n. let’s just go to the docks and leave the car there”
“you’re insane” you murmured and felt his hand on your thigh, caressing it in a reassuring motion. 
the city was soaked in night sky that already turned coal-black. the stars shone brightly, keeping you a little hopeful. as you passed the high skyscrapers and buildings, their lights blending into palettes of yellows, greens, whites and reds. 
when you arrived at the docks, chan gave you the bag to hold and took care of the car (more like drove it into the water). then, he stood next to you and wrapped an arm around your shaking self. standing in silence, you watched the vehicle disappear underneath the water surface. 
“let’s go home, pretty” chan pecked your temple and grabbed the bag, hanging it over his shoulder. 
once inside, chan placed the bag on the kitchen counter. his eyes scanned your face in worry.
“you’re okay?” he asked, taking off his leather jacket. 
“just… a little shocked, that’s all. how much did you even take…?” you asked. a joyful smile bloomed on his face as he approached you, his calloused hands landing on your waist “channie? how do you feel?” 
he broke down into laughter, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. chan started swaying your bodies, dancing in the kitchen. you soon joined him, giggled erupting from your lips. 
“let’s just say our wedding will be not from this earth” he hummed into your skin, suddenly twirling you around; moonlight shining on your faces, dancing in the middle of your shared kitchen.
main masterlist | event masterlist
taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu
132 notes · View notes
furrysmp · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
decided to go sunbringer designs for once. I have so many words oh my god
so. uh,
I am so normal about sunbringer joel smallishbeans so normal I swear. he's planning to throw the o from his name at scott btw.
... he and scar are related but I'm not explaining further until the actual fic about it comes out because there's so much plot significance in the smallishbeans.
... grian. has a book. that he borrowed from the Library. it's very relevant I swear the concept of the library is a plot point.
Also grians eyes are technically green! With a bit of purple and just. a layer of Dark over them to make them less neon green. its not in his genetics to have neon eyes. unlike scar and I swear their eye colors are relevant but like in a weird queerplatonic scarian dl based bit in the grian chapter of the fic
Mumbo is a long cat and being held by me specifically those hands are how I draw my mc skin. I wanted to draw him as this meme since 2021 but he's very hard for me to draw so I took the one time I'll ever draw him and did this.
Jimmy is. a creature. that has bird features but also cod features bc again half of the plot of sunbringer is based on empires 1. Also the bird he's holding is singing. And joel is stealing the song bc he has music type magic.
Scott! Is the one guy I can talk about! Because he already appeared in the fic. He's part ender dragon and like. a child of stars? I have a lot of times I drew him before I think but idk how much of it I uploaded before so yeah. Please ask me about sunbringer scott smajor he's one of the only ones I can talk about and he has so much lore going for him he's so dear to me
impulse is. technically part ender dragon too? the specifics will be explained in his chapter of yhiwu (alongside. a lot of magic lore. like a lot. I have half that speech written already it's basically looking the empires fic in the eyes and going "fight me uwu")
And because impulse is aligned to shadows skizz gets to be some form of light dragon descendant? Like light isn't directly an element in the magic of this universe but it does have an equivalent in the element of Life, which connects to truth and love, whereas shadows and theatrics (and storytelling in general) is always aligned to whatever element is considered dark; in this magic system, being Void.
Tango is looking up at mumbo. thats all. I don't have a lot of notes because my tango is just a little guy.
(Etho is checking smth on his smartwatch and also doing his best to ignore bdubs rn bc bdubs is in his villain arc/hj)
... ngl the only note I have on the bdubs design is that it's accidentally inspired by my human design for the main character in the show I'm writing. Bracelets and sparkly eyes and a t-shirt and. Crimes.
also not much on the cleo design she was just fun to draw but the implications of her existence are spoilers and also not really visually indicative bc idk what a "zombie hybrid" would look like so she just looks. funky. her background is all stitched together btw I finally had a use for the dashed lines brush :D
martyn and ren are. BIG spoilers. But only to like chapter 5 of the current fic. I will say I highly enjoy their existence tho. Also my ren designs always have hawaiian patterned shirts its a personality trait he seems to possess. Also his glasses are like. a hologram? bc his ears are Dog so he cant have normal glasses w like. the things that go behind ur ears.
lizzie is. also very important. she gets the two animals thing like jimmy bc axolotl and cat were her empires animals. also her buns are heart shaped I saw some fanart of that and its really cute so I also have that. and she's also looking at the long mumbo! very confused.
bigb. scares me. like yeah secret life really be mans villain arc. I tried to reflect that by actually straight up mirroring his eyes and having him be. the only guy looking straight at u. he can see u. u can run but u cant hide. also he gets cookies. also also drawing facial hair is hard he's the only time I ever managed to make facial hair look. normal. ever. wont happen again.
gem is being adorable and also definitely a deer hybrid dont mind the magic or stuff its fine (her chapter is. third in the roster. I literally just need to finish the impulse chapter to convince myself that its ok to upload her immediately after ch2).
and pearl! who we know bc she gets first chapter of the fic and thats already out. her eyes are a bit like moons btw. also she's doing magic back at gem which is cute I think. idk.
also half of them have fancy hair shines. like joel having beans that get progressively smaller. or pearl having moons. :D
204 notes · View notes
simplydnp · 20 days
Note
idk why this matters to me but in the last few months they've been acknowledging so many things I never ever thought they would. pinof and the touching. the phude multiple times. dapc slime (ok they had merch to sell for that one but still)
no but actually. phil literally said 'i thought we weren't acknowledging it' about the phude and now they just bring it up all the time.
pinof reacts... i still can't believe we're in a post pinof-reacts universe. how did that happen. i was changed permanently--like something shuffled in my dna when i got the notif for pinof reacts 1. this is not a physical reaction but a chemical one that cannot be undone. for something that was so... sacred. and integral. to their existence and history. pinof wasn't generally talked about unless it was pinof time. and even then it was 'it'll be up soon' or 'we just posted it' and then Never talked about outside of that. especially not the first one! we freak out about the We Know You Know in the newsletter but it's Always been like that with pinof 1. so to see them--new (& natural 🥺) hair for them both, in a house they bought and built together, in the first few months of giving the gaming channel a second chance--reflect on how it all began? absolutely devastating. and to lean into moments and discuss them in new ways. in territory previously not breached! the 'they're toUching'?!?!? the '11 hour fuck session'!?!? the '£9000 champagne'?!?!? like hey we're not supposed to talk about that, dan and phil might see!! shhh!! but they're the ones saying it!! absolutely wild.
in a way, it had to happen. especially with where we're at now (them literally selling merch of them holding hands). in order for them to move beyond that... mindset? i guess? that a lot of fans had, they had to defang it. i really see it as one of the biggest walls they've broken down in the way they communicate with us. the 'hey. it's okay. we've seen it. it's not a big deal. we will absolutely make fun of you for it though. but we're good.'
i'm just really curious whose idea it was. (lbr it was probably phil given dans not a react kinda guy. but i'd be lying if i said i didn't want to be in the room where it happened when they talked about actually doing it or not, and what it would mean) (big ad revenue thats for sure 🤣 get it kings)
i will never be able to get phil's 'they touched' out of my head and at this point i wouldn't want to. it's absolutely earned. and i guess it makes me a masochist to enjoy the psychic damage it inflicts on me, but such is life i suppose.
the crafts mention really surprised me! i had contemplated a few different scenarios in how they'd go about it, and i'll be honest i feel like they could've committed to the bit a little more but they're forgiven. like what about glitchy interstitials! cuts to the merch website. found footage inserted between sections! i recognize they don't want to 'scare' their usual audience wirh sudden cuts to intense/graphic content but my immersionnn. absolutely shattered by 'oh we have new merch now btw'. cmon boys you love to lie to us. say theres merch up but you dont know where it came from. just that we should buy it 👀 or idk, something clever. and i recognize i may sound like a spoilt brat bc i just got a 14 minute long masterpiece of an unexpected dapc revival, but my immersion. i mean i already bought the merch before they shilled it anyways so it didn't influence me regardless 🤣
ultimately we really are in a new era. even beyond just the revival. i think they're really finding their stride--not only in their content (evidenced by a semi-regular schedule) but also creatively, in doing what they want to do, how they want to do it, and truly not giving that much of a fuck anymore. and i'm really happy for them. phil talked a bit about this in his 'rating my icons' video, where he's kind of decided he doesn't care what people on twitter think, and how it's been good for him, and i think we're seeing that reflected in not only his content, but also the gaming channel. they play what they want. they say what they want. and it's just fun. dan going on the record to say he's really enjoying it makes me so happy to hear, because literally december 2022 he believed he'd disappear after WAD. and now, instead, he gets to play games and make stupid jokes and smile and laugh multiple times a week, and he's really happy about it. he gets to be silly and goofy and crude without having to Stress about it. i keep saying it but they're so settled now. and as someone who's followed them through big changes and turbulent times, getting to see them happy after everything... it brings a lot of hope. and i know theyre millionaires. but there's something to looking at someone you fell in love with 15 years ago the same then as you do now. but instead of it being something scary, something you have to hide, something that feels like it can consume you and everything you have--it gets to be something beautiful. and regular. and embraced. you've read this far you get to listen to me wax poetic about them.
we've been thoroughly boiled and maybe, just maybe, it's warming our hearts too.
108 notes · View notes