#he was getting annoyed at me taking pictures too

[kyksbb]

Boyfriend Headcanons

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Requested

Word Count: 1K

Author's note: Another request, thank you anon! Enjoyyy 🫂🩷

He’s not joking when he says it was love at first sight.

That boy saw you and you knocked the wind out of him. Like, every single cheesy love song suddenly made sense to him. Not that he’s complaining.

“Babe, I saw you, and I was done for.” And he means it. Really means it.

Jude is a serious simp. Like, on another level. No shame though.

He is the sweetest, most thoughtful boyfriend in the world.

He is the type of boyfriend to leave little notes in random places, like in your bag or on the mirror.

“Missed you already” or “You’re my favorite part of the day” in his messy handwriting.

He has your favorite snacks on hand 24/7, tucking them in your bag when you’re not looking. He gets so excited picturing you reaching in later and lighting up.

He’s the biggest tease in the world, not letting a day pass without some good natured ribbing.

Everyone knows he’s extremely competitive. You would think that he would be a gentleman and let you win when you two play games but no. He lost? Oh, he’s pouting until you bribe him with kisses all over his face.

Jude is low-key so overprotective. He keeps you close in a crowd, hand firmly laced with yours.

Also, Jude 100% knows the sidewalk rule. He always makes sure you walk outside of the sidewalk.

He’s the type of boyfriend to show that he cares for you in the smallest ways.

Always peeling the straw for you, sliding the salt over in case you need it during dinner, adjusting your scarf if it’s chilly.

By the way, you only bring your wallet for decoration when you’re out with him. He’s got you covered, period.

He’s the most supportive boyfriend ever. Whatever you’re passionate about, he’s right there. Cheering you on, sending encouraging texts before a big day, asking hundred questions about it.

He’s also the definition of impulsive gift-giver.

You remind him the color of that sweater? He’s already bought it. Found a mug with a cheesy pun you’d love? Done. “Can never have too much,” he says with a smirk.

He’s absolutely obsessed with the bond you have with his family. His parents adore you and he couldn’t be happier about that but, but, truth be told, he finds the fact that you and Jobe are always ganging up on him very annoying.

He’s an actual cuddle monster. Literally. If you’re with him and he doesn’t have his arms wrapped around you, what is he doing?

He swears his arms were “made to hold you,” but he also loves resting his head on your chest, loving when you play with his hair. The little spoon sometimes is his spot.

He says he loves to cook but that is the biggest lie known to a man. He just loves being in the kitchen while you’re cooking. He’ll sing into the spatula, mess with the ingredients, and kiss your neck until you end up doing most of the work.

“Just here for moral support,” he’ll say, grinning while you roll your eyes.

Subtle PDA is his specialty. He doesn’t go overbroad, but he’ll lace his fingers with yours in public, place his hand on your lower back, squeeze your thigh and lean in just close enough to let everyone know you’re his.

Good morning texts, guaranteed. Whether it’s his sleepy face selfie from bed, a quick snap from training, or a random shot of something that reminds him of you, he makes sure you start your day with a smile.

He asks the most random questions at the most random moments. You could be lounging on the couch with him and he’d be like “If animals could talk, which one you reckon would be the rudest?” Or, “Who do you think would win in a dance off, me or my coach?”

You both have tons of inside jokes. Sometimes it takes a one look or a one word and you’re both cracking up uncontrollably.

He is actually obsessed with snapping candid shots of you. Whether you’re laughing with friends, squinting at the menu, or lost in thought, he loves capturing you in your most natural moments.

Jude has this adorable habit of kissing your forehead at the most random times. If you’re talking excitedly about something, he’ll suddenly lean over, press a kiss to your forehead, and say, “I love how passionate you get about this.”

When he does it in public, he’ll pull you close with a slight smirk, like he’s silently telling everyone around just how much he adores you.

He’s memorized exactly how you like your coffee and surprises you with it just the way you like when you’re feeling lazy in the morning.

If you’re still in bed, he’ll bring it to you, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder to wake you.

Sometimes, he’ll try to make cute designs in the foam but laugh when they look more like blobs.

He’ll randomly offer you a piggyback ride, even if you’re just walking a short distance. He claims it’s because he’s “keeping you safe” but really just loves carrying you around.

If you’ve had a long day, he’ll give you a piggyback ride all the way to bed, tucking you in with a soft kiss on your forehead and a cheeky, “Lucky I’m here, huh?”

When he’s away, he leaves you cute, funny voice notes throughout the day. They range from “Hey, miss you” to “Guess what I saw today?”

Sometimes, he tries to make up a song about you, laughing through it because he’s making up random lyrics that don’t rhyme.

Whenever you have a small problem, like a squeaky door, a broken lamp, or your favorite necklace clasp breaking, Jude takes it as his personal mission to fix it, even if he doesn’t know how.

He’s ridiculously proud when he finally fixes something and says he’s “earning boyfriend points.”

Jude often talks about the future with you in it. He’ll casually say things like, “When we have a place together…” or “Our future kids would be the cutest,” and then he’ll get adorably shy, rubbing the back of his neck, realizing what he just said.

In conclusion, Jude Bellingham is a huge boyfriend material.

[7s3ven]

Hear me out guys… retired soldiers now bodyguards! task force 141 x spoiled heiress! reader

( just an idea )

You’re like, a nutcase. Your father adores you but sometimes you can go out of control. Like for instance, the time you jumped off a cliff into the ocean below to impress a boy.

Yeah, your father wasn’t very impressed with your behaviour.

On top of your recklessness, your father has enemies who always seem to target you. You’re his obvious weakness and he can’t spend another moment of anxiously wondering if you’re okay while he’s working.

So, he hires the best bodyguards he can find. And they turn out to be retired soldiers from an elite unit known as Task Force 141. Perfect.

You don’t take kindly to being continuously followed by four large men who don’t even try to be subtle. It’s not like taking care of you is easy either. You’re a troublemaker, you always have been since your mother left you for another family (your reckless tendencies tend to stem from the fact that you’re causing trouble to get her to notice you again).

Task Force 141 has had enough when you attempt to sneak out of the house to a party on a Friday night. But it seems apart from shopping and acting like a brat, you aren’t good at anything else.

They hear a crash and someone swearing loudly before you roll off the roof, landing in the bushes right outside the window where the four men have a perfect view of you. They were watching a football came until you interrupted.

Jonny bursts into laughter, slapping Gaz out of amusement, while Price fetches you and forces you back inside.

“You know, your house has a back door for a reason.” Simon utters as he cleans your scratches but there’s a mocking indication to his tone.

“Yeah but like, going out the window felt more cool.” You argue back, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Was it cool when you face planted into the ground?”

You can only pout in annoyance.

From then on, they don’t leave you alone, especially not on Friday nights. You have to deal with being squished between Price and Simon as they watch a boring documentary on… fish? Jonny definitely chose that one.

But hey, you aren’t exactly complaining. Being stuck between the two men means being able to feel their muscles and smell their strong cologne. You tolerate the four men more after they cleaned your scratches from landing in a bush and carried you to your bed.

And so what if you catch feelings? Anybody else in your position would have done the same.

“We can’t date ya, lovie. We’re too old and we work for your dad.”

Do you care? Not really.

“My dad literally hired you because I was a troublemaker. Ya think I give a shit? ‘Sides, the older the better.”

Jonny jabs a thumb in Price’s direction, “Even the captain? You should’ve seen ‘im in his prime. Way better looking.” He hands you a picture that he just happens to have of Price.

You glance at it then lift your head to look at Price. Your lips curve into a teasing smile. “Yeah, you’re right. What happened, Captain?” You joke.

INCORRECT QUOTES FOR THE LAUGHS:

Kidnapper, negotiating with TF 141: We have the annoying heiress. Give us ten thousand dollars and they will be returned to you unharmed

Y/N: Whoa, whoa, wait, you think I’m only worth ten thousand dollars. MAKE IT ONE MILLION–

Price: Y/N, STOP

Simon: Can I be frank with you guys?

Jonny: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.

Gaz: Can I still be Gaz?

Y/N: Shh, let Frank speak.

Gaz: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity?

Simon: *turning to Y/N* How tall are you?

Price: Where's Simon, Gaz, and Y/N?

Jonny: They're playing hide and seek.

Price: Where?

Jonny: I don't think you get how this game works.

Y/N: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?

Simon: Several traffic violations.

Gaz: Three counts of resisting arrest.

Jonny: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks.

Price: Also, that’s not our car.

[skzhocomments]

Thank you for reading <3 Here: Alternative Ending to heal your broken heart

---

Chris's head is pounding with pain as he opens his eyes and realises that the place looks eerily familiar.

His neck starts hurting the moment he sits up in his chair, but he doesn’t pay the pain much mind, as he is more confused than ever. He recognises the place as his old studio back when he was still working at JYPE. How many years ago was that? Way too many.

The confusion only intensifies when he looks at his hands and sees them devoid of any wrinkles and dark spots, and he immediately gets alerted. He pinches his skin, as if to see if it would hurt, and the pain comes immediately. If this is a dream, it’s a way too realistic one.

He sees his phone lying on the table and stretches to grab it, and once he unlocks it, the picture of you, his favourite, is staring back at him. He swears he was at the cemetery and saw this exact picture on your gravestone just the other day.

The next wave of confusion comes when he notices the date and time. It’s way past 12PM, and the date is your death anniversary, the same year you passed. Only this time around, his phone is not flooding with notifications. The only unread messages are from you, and you seem worried.

“I can’t believe you didn’t come home last night. Do you really want to break up?”

He shoots up the moment he reads it and stops overthinking, dialling your number instead. If this is really a dream, he’s happy he gets to see you one last time.

“Yes.” You answer, your tone slightly annoyed.

“Babe.” His eyes swell up with tears when he hears your voice.

“What?”

“I love you.” He bursts into crying. “I love you. I’m so, so sorry for what I’ve said last night. I need you more than anything. Where are you? At home?”

“Wow, I was expecting you to apologise, but…” You chuckle briefly. “Yes. Are you coming for lunch?”

“Yeah.” He wipes his tears. “I’m coming. Please wait for me.”

“Of course. Love you.”

“Love you.”

~

Chris has never run as fast to his car before. He barely sees the roads and even if it’s been decades, he still remembers the drive between your shared former apartment and the studio. He gets back home in 10 minutes, a record, as the drive usually takes him 20 at least.

He types in your old passcode, and as the door opens, you’re there.

You’re there.

He can’t believe it.

You’re there, alive, and breathing. There are no empty plates and half-drunk glasses of water stained by your lipstick on the table. He looks at the sink, and they’re currently drying. You’ve washed them.

There is no box of tampons on the counter, no jewellery on the coffee table. Your hairbrush is clean, your face serums rearranged. The bed is made.

You’ve cleaned up.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask after you follow him erratically moving from room to room.

“I’m… oh, God. Baby, come here.” He comes and hugs you tightly, starting to cry again.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You frown, a bit taken aback by his behaviour. Sure, you’ve fought, but still.

“How… how did you get home last night?”

“Well, initially I was super upset and wanted to walk back home to clear my mind, but I saw a cab in front of the building and the driver called my name, so I assumed you ordered me one. Didn’t you?”

“I… oh, my God. I can’t believe this.” Chris cries even harder, hugging you tighter, until you eventually pull back, truly concerned.

He starts kissing you, apologising over and over and over, and he’s never felt more grateful.

You’re alive. He’s been given a second chance.

The Five Stages of Grief - Bang Chan Oneshot Fanfic

(And a second cover because I couldn't decide)

General Masterlist

Pairing: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x OC/Reader (Story is written in 2nd person, no name is mentioned)

Genre: angst

Word Count: ~10k

Warnings: death, devastatingly sad, mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts. No comfort, although it does end in a positive note. Ending is hopeful if you squint.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Bang Chan or other mentioned Stray Kids’ members true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

---

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

© all rights reserved by skzhocomments (Tumblr), skzho (Tumblr)/ storminsidemycore (Wattpad), storminsidemycore (AO3)

---

The Five Stages of Grief

---

“Hey Channie!” You entered his studio with a smile plastered on your face, that soon enough turned into a frown when you noticed your boyfriend of almost 5 years hasn’t even acknowledged your presence.

He tended to do that a lot, especially when working on new comebacks. His whole focus was on that damn computer which you were sure by now was your life-sworn enemy. It’s hard having to compete with a screen to get your boyfriend’s attention, but such was life sometimes, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You knew the risks that came with dating an idol, you just didn’t know how much worse it could be if you were to date a workaholic, perfectionist idol.

This was Chan.

He spent hours and hours and hours cramped in his small studio, perfecting beats, arranging vocals, switching up different rhythms and trying to figure out what could work out and have the most success between his fans.

“Have you eaten?” You asked, kissing his cheek, and only then did he notice you’re there, and pulled out his headphones.

“Oh, hi. Didn’t see you come in.” Was all he said, his face scrunched in concentration. “Did you say something?”

“Just asked if you’ve had dinner yet.”

He must’ve, right? It was well past 11 pm, but one of his bad habits was working himself to death, and more often than not, he would skip meal times entirely simply because he wasn’t good at keeping track of time.

“I had a protein bar earlier.” He shrugged.

“Want me to order you something? Or even better, why don’t we both head home?” You asked with a smile, trying to be convincing enough for your boyfriend.

It usually worked.

He would normally laugh off your attempts to be nice and realise that you’re just trying to take care of him, and he would comply and go home with you for the night, then resume his work the next day.

Once you’d be home, he would crash immediately, proof of how tired he’d been and how much he’d ignored his body’s needs. His sheer determination was scary.

However, none of this happened tonight. He rolled his eyes and muttered a small “There she goes again.”

You played it off, though, realising he probably didn’t mean for you to hear that. Brave on his part, you thought, in such a small quiet studio.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, your tone still friendly, as if you were joking with him.

What you didn’t expect was for him to turn his whole chair towards you, his expression angrier than you’ve ever seen him.

“You heard me. God, it’s so frustrating having you come here all the time bossing me around. Eat! Sleep! Stop working! Can’t you see I’m busy?!” He ranted, pointing towards his computer screen.

“Wow, sorry, Mr. Busy.” You chuckled, despite being slightly angry with his words.

He doesn’t mean them. You told yourself. This is another one of his bad habits: bursting out and speaking cruel words whenever he’s extremely stressed and has tight deadlines. It hadn’t happened often, only a handful of times in your years long relationship, but it hurt nonetheless whenever it did.

“And there you go mocking me.” He rolled his eyes at you. “It’s like you don’t even care about the work I’m doing.”

“It’s not that, Chan. You know how much I value your work, it’s just-”

“Yeah, bullshit.” He laughs. “If you would, you’d stop barging in here demanding things from me when you know I have stuff to do.”

“Hey, I know you had a tough couple of days with the comeback and all, but there’s no need for you to take it out on my like this.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest, this time feeling genuinely upset. It’s like he’s escalating it on purpose.

“No, it’s not just a tough couple of days. Don’t you get it? You do this shit all the time, and I’m frankly sick and tired of it. Can’t you just leave me be for once and stop being so controlling?”

“Controlling?” You asked, baffled. “How am I controlling, huh? By making sure you eat and sleep when you’re supposed to?”

“How do you even know what I’m supposed to do?! You always think you know best, but you never fucking consider any of my needs and wants.”

“Literally everything I do is fucking consider your needs, Chan.” You answered coldly.

“No. You’re just too deep in your head and can’t fucking figure out when to back down, so I’m telling you. Stop telling me what to do and leave me alone if I’m busy. God, I don’t need this shit.”

He mumbled the last sentence and put his headphones back in, turning his attention back to the screen.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done what you did next, but he hurt you, and you didn’t like the way your conversation apparently ended. You wanted to know what he meant, so you grabbed his headphones’ wire and pulled them out of his ears forcefully.

The way he turned to you and the look he threw you almost made your blood freeze, but you were far too upset to care about upsetting him anymore.

“What exactly don’t you need, huh? What is this shit, exactly?!” You gestured with your hands.

“You can’t fucking let it go, can you?” He laughed in a baffled way.

“No, unless you tell me what this shit is.”

“This. Us. Everything. I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.”

“Oh, is that so?” You asked, expressionless.

He hurt you, but by his anger still present on his features, you realised it’s all pointless. You’re not going to see eye to eye tonight.

“Do you want to break up?” You let out, the words burning your tongue, and Chan’s eyes widen.

“What? No! Fuck, you twist my words.” He sighs, exasperated. “Just leave. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, you let out a shaky breath and watch him put his headphones back in.

“Oh, and this?” He starts, pointing to one end of the headphones. “Never do this shit again.”

You watch silently how he turns his chair to look back at the damn screen, without caring that you’re still there in the room.

The discussion is over.

“I see. Fine. I’ll go.” You let out, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. He didn’t see them, and it felt like he didn’t even care that he’s made you cry.

You quietly made your way out of the room, your sight too blurry to see anything, and you headed home.

---

Denial

---

Chan’s eyes are beginning to sting painfully, and after rubbing them and checking the time, he figures out why.

It’s way over 5 AM when he decides to finally leave the studio, and although it’s still dark out, the streets are already starting to get filled with people hurrying to whatever painful morning shift they are scheduled for.

It takes him about 20 minutes to get back to your shared apartment, and when he does, nothing seems unusual at first.

The house is expectedly quiet, it being so early in the morning, and he already imagines how deep in sleep you must be by now.

He feels guilty for how he treated you, that he let the anger consume him once again, and he regrets it. He always regrets it when he lets stress get the better of him.

As he heads towards the bathroom to wash the harsh day off his skin, he starts thinking about how he could make it up to you. Should he buy you flowers and bring you breakfast in bed in 4 hours when you’ll most likely get up?

Although he hasn’t slept at all.

Should he take you out on a date after he’s well rested? There was this restaurant you mentioned a couple of times that you wanted to try, but he didn’t have enough time to take you there to eat yet, not with all the planned comebacks and the work that keeps piling up.

Maybe tomorrow is finally the day.

He finishes his shower and rubs his eyes again, and God, how tired he is, just as usual when he pulls out all-nighters. Everything seems ordinary, but as he opens the bedroom door, however, something is unusual.

You are not there.

Confused, he takes out his phone to check for any messages you might’ve sent him, but upon noticing there’s no new notifications, he throws the phone on the bed, screen down, defeated.

Did you really think he wants to break up? Did you finally have enough and left him?

He knows he treated you badly tonight, but he thought it’s just a small drop in an ocean of happiness. Arguments are unavoidable, unfortunately, and he can’t always be the perfectly composed man he’s striving to become.

Would you really leave after a couple of cruel words he didn’t even mean? He starts asking himself as he gets into bed. Surely you know how much he loves and needs you there for him. It was just a bad night, that’s all.

Maybe you just wanted some space, and decided to head to a friend, or to a hotel or something.

He thinks about calling you, but with how late it is – or rather, how early – he knows he’d just disturb you or any of your friends you would’ve gone to if he were to call.

He decides to go to sleep instead and figure it all out tomorrow morning, when his mind is clearer, and when you’ve both had enough time to cool down.

~

His head is pounding with pain as he opens his eyes and feels multiple pulsations against all sides of his skull.

This is the worst migraine he’s ever had, and he realises how right you were when trying to convince him to go to sleep early. He really needed more sleep.

He grabs his phone to check the time, and when he does, he sees it’s flooding with notifications. His manager called him about a dozen times, starting at 8 AM and continuing up until 15 minutes ago, and he has multiple missed calls and messages from all the members.

Ugh, it’s only 10.

Did I have a schedule I’ve forgotten about? He wonders, rubbing his eyes confused, but checking the date, he knows it’s his day off.

He decides to head to the bathroom and freshen up, while picking up his phone and dialling his manager’s number.

He reaches the bathroom and puts toothpaste on his brush, and by the time the phone rang two times, his manager picks up.

“Chan! Where are you?” He asks, his voice hurried. “Why haven’t you picked up?”

He begins lazily brushing his teeth and checks the date again, and sure enough, it’s his free day. There’s nothing in his schedule.

“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, his voice still ridden with sleep, still tired from the lack of rest. “It’s my day off.”

“Are you at home?”

“Yes. Where else?”

“Good. That’s… okay. Have you talked to anyone yet?”

“No…? You’re acting weird. What’s going on?”

“Listen, Chan. Something… something bad happened. I need you to sit down for a moment, okay?”

“Okay...?” Chan nods absent-mindedly, continuing to brush his teeth, oblivious about what’s coming.

“Last night… God, I don’t even know how to break this to you, so I’ll just say it. Do note that the company will do its best to assist you and-”

“Cut to the chase. What’s wrong?” Chris asks, starting to get worried. He finishes brushing his teeth, and just as he prepares to put the toothbrush down, his manager’s next words make him drop it to the floor instead.

“Your girlfriend passed away last night. She was hit by a drunk driver on a crosswalk, and although an ambulance got there in less than 2 minutes, she was already… I’m sorry.”

The line falls silent as Chan tries to process what his manager just said. The only sound in the room is made by the toothbrush hitting the bathroom’s white floor tiles.

Chan heard wrong. There’s no other explanation.

“That can’t be.” He dismisses his manager completely. “She was just with me in the studio last night, and then she came-”

Home. But you weren’t home.

“She must’ve gone to a hotel or something.”

“Chan… I’m truly, truly sorry. As I said, we’re going to support you through this tough time with everything we’ve got.”

What tough time? Chan wants to ask but stays silent instead.

He picks the discarded toothbrush from the floor and throws it away. How careless he’s been, dropping it.

He wants to chuckle at his stupidity, and he can’t wait to tell you about it. You’re going to nag him again for being careless and dropping things. This is the 3rd toothbrush he’s changing this month.

“Oh, God! Again?” He can already picture you with an amused expression on your face, your arms crossed. “You’re always dropping stuff on the floor!”

The thought brings the ghost of a smile on his face, and he starts wondering again where you might be. Surely your manager is mistaken.

“Her parents tried getting in touch with you, but they said you didn’t pick up. You should give them a call.” His manager continues to say. “From what they’ve told us, the funeral will be held tomorrow morning. JYPE offered to pay for all expenses. Anyways, this must be too much information to swallow for now, so I’ll come pick you up in 20 minutes and we can go to the company together. The rest of the boys are already here.”

“Okay, see you in 20 minutes.” Chan replies, not really understanding what’s happening.

He ignores the countless missed calls and messages and opens his call history to dial your number instead.

It goes straight to voice mail.

~

“Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?”You chuckled, asking him with an unsure look on your face.

“Yes. The beep-”

“Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!” You cheerfully said, ending the recording with a small laugh.

“Are you going to keep it like that?” He asked amused.

“Why not? It’s straight to the point!”

“You left my voice in it, though.”

“Oh, does it bother you? I can record again if you want me to.”

“No, no need. I just – isn’t it a bit weird?” He chuckled. “You even forgot to say your name.”

“Whatever.” You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “If they called my number, they know who they’re calling.”

“Fair enough.” He laughed.

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He chuckles absent-mindedly at the memory of him teaching you how to record a message redirecting your callers to leave a voice mail. You’ve never been good at technology.

“Hi, babe. Can you please call me? I need to talk to you.” He says, deciding to leave a message, even though he isn’t convinced that you’ll get to hear it. You usually forget to check your voice mail.

He tries calling again, just for good measure.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly’?

Yes. The beep-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes.’

‘Hello! You’ve called…’

‘Hello!’

He throws his phone on the bed exasperated. Why aren’t you picking up?

You didn’t even come home last night, why is your phone turned off?

Do you want to somehow punish him for being cruel and make him worry?

He shakes his head confused and begins changing his clothes from the comfortable pyjamas to an appropriate enough outfit to go to the company.

It should be a crime to have to go so early in the morning anywhere on your day off.

When he’s done and he looks somewhat presentable, he picks his phone back up and dials your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called-’

He cancels the call just when he hears a knock on his door, and opening it, his manager is looking at him sombrely.

“Hi.” Chris speaks first, but his manager doesn’t say anything. He just pulls him into a hug that lasts way too long, Chan thinks.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” He finally says after pulling away.

Chan doesn’t know what to reply, so he opts to just stay silent. His manager’s words don’t register in his head anyway; maybe he’s still tired.

He did go to sleep way too late.

They head to the car, and although the ride to the company only lasts 20 minutes or so, the 20 minutes feel like an eternity.

It’s just as his manager said, and everyone else is already at the company. When he sees the boys, they come rushing to him, their faces tear-stained and their clothes black.

“Oh, Chris…” Felix hugs him tightly and starts crying, and Chan starts comforting him by patting his back a few times.

A few tears escape past his eyes as well by seeing all the boys so gloomy, but he still doesn’t seem to be able to wrap his hand around it.

“Her parents said the wake is taking place at their house, so that’s where we’re headed now. I thought it’s better for you to not go alone.” His manager blurts out.

Chris looks dejected for a few seconds, before taking out his phone again and dialling the familiar number. This time, he types it himself. He knows it by heart.

With a shaky hand, he puts it against his ear and waits to connect.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

It makes no sense.

You couldn’t possibly… have died.

You are so young. You have so many plans and so many things you still want to do.

He is supposed to apologize to you and pamper you the whole day just to make up to you for being an asshole last night. He is supposed to take you to that restaurant you’ve been bugging him about for weeks.

You can’t possibly be gone, just like that.

~

Your parents embrace Chris as soon as he steps through the door. They’re sobbing loudly, and there are so many people present – some, he recognises: old friends from middle school you’ve shown him pictures of, some other colleagues from university, some coworkers he had the pleasure of meeting at the last Christmas party held by your company, a few family members…

There are also many people he doesn’t recognise; people your age, and Chan gets reminded once again of how young you are, with your whole life ahead.

He shakes his head once he notices a coffin on the large table in your parents’ living room; the same table you’ve both ate at just two weeks ago when you’ve last visited.

“My baby, Chris is here to see you.” Your mother cries, approaching the coffin and pulling his hand to guide him towards it as well.

It’s closed shut, and on top of it, your picture stares at him with a happy smile. You are so beautiful; he’s always loved this picture of yours. He’s the one who took it, just after you’ve graduated Uni and he handed you a big bouquet of your favourite flowers, rose peonies. You said your eyes wrinkled in a weird way, and never liked it, but he absolutely adored it. It’s been his wall screen ever since.

The coffin is made of dark polished mahogany, and its lid is adorned with golden handles.

You can’t possibly be in there.

Although beautiful, how could such a small coffin hold the large essence of your soul?

It makes no sense whatsoever.

Your parents’ cries seem real enough, though.

He touches the top of the coffin and wonders why it’s closed. Why would it be closed, when you are so gorgeous? People should see you, not a simple picture.

He decides it must be because you’re simply not in it. Or if you are hiding in there, maybe it’s all a joke and you’re going to open it from the inside and yell Surprise!, shocking everyone in the room and making your mother faint. It’s something you’d do.

So, he waits.

He waits, and waits, and waits, and his feet grow tired and his back starts aching after so many hours on his feet. People come and go, paying respects, patting his shoulders and trying to make some small talk, talking about you in past tense.

“She was such a wonderful person.”

“She was so full of life.”

“Her laugh was so intoxicating.”

“Her work ethic was admirable.”

“She was so smart.”

He listens and nods to each of their words. They are right. You are a smart, wonderful person, you are full of life, your laugh is the best thing he’s ever heard. He’s wished more often than not to record it and put it in one of his tracks, but every time he’d mentioned it, you called him silly.

By the time your father brings him a chair and places it next to the coffin so he can sit down instead of standing, it’s already night out.

“You should get some rest, Chris. I’ll stay with her.” He tells him, placing his strong hand on Chan’s shoulder as to attract his attention, but Chan just shakes his head.

How could he go sleep when you might decide any time to wake up?

Would you panic, with the lid closed and all? You’ve always been claustrophobic. Why is it closed, anyway?

~

It’s already morning when one of your relatives approaches Chris and urges him to get out of the living room to change his clothes.

They’ve brought him a white suit at the request of your father; wedding attire, since you didn’t get the chance to get married before you passed.

He is reluctant to put on the white pants and uncomfortable suit jacket, but he does it anyway. Your mother cries when she sees him, and your father pats his shoulder and thanks him for doing this.

The priest comes, and a lot of your friends visit your home again, to lead you on your last journey, apparently.

It takes the priest about half an hour to finish praying for your soul, and then your coffin is loaded in the back of a hearse. The car moves slow enough for everyone to be able to follow, and Chris is walking right behind it, next to your parents. Felix is behind him with Lee Know and Changbin, and the rest of the boys are somewhere far back. He sticks out like a sore thumb, dressed in all white while everyone else is wearing black.

Each time the car passes next to important places in your life, the hearse stops and people throw coins on the ground. They pass by your kindergarten and your old school, and with each step, your mother cries harder. Your father tries his best to stay composed, but even he bursts into tears when your mother starts talking about your life and what a happy kid you were.

Chris doesn’t shed a tear. He follows the hearse blindly, and when it reaches the cemetery, he watches as his members take out the coffin and place it on the ground next to a large, freshly dug hole.

The priest begins a final prayer, and soon enough, he watches how the coffin disappears inside the hole. People start throwing soil and flowers. He doesn’t know how a couple of roses get in his hands, but he begins throwing them one by one on top of the coffin that keeps getting lowered down.

You’ve never liked roses that much. You like peonies. Why did someone hand him roses?

There is also some music – hymns, or the sorts. Something you wouldn’t like. He doesn’t like it either.

A few moments later, some people begin covering the coffin in dirt, and he watches the scene expressionless. It gets covered fairly quickly. People start crying even harder, and his ears start ringing.

He feels sick to his stomach, so he decides to take a few steps back as soon as the whole gets filled to the brim with the freshly dug soil.

“I can’t believe she’s truly gone. She was so young!” He hears a woman say from somewhere behind him. He doesn’t bother turning his head to check if he knows her or not.

“Right? We were talking just yesterday morning at work about going shopping this weekend.” Another woman replies in a quiet tone.

“They didn’t even open the casket.”

“How could they? Didn’t you hear how she passed?”

“No! What even happened?”

“She was apparently crossing the road and a car came out of nowhere, hitting her with more than 200 km/h. It threw her like 30 metres in the air.”

“Oh my God! I heard it was a car accident, but this…”

“Yeah! It’s insane. There was barely anything left of her… only shattered bones and flesh, nothing resembling a human.”

“Shh, what if someone hears you say that?!” The other woman tried to silence the first one.

After hearing these details, Chris feels even sicker.

He wants to throw up.

“Son, we are going to the reception now. Do you want to come with us in our car?” Your father approaches him, and Chris simply nods.

He hugs him for a few seconds, and then they wait for your mother to come, and the ride to the restaurant is filled with her sobs while your father and Chan remain expressionless.

~

He sits at a table next to your parents. Felix is on his left, and the rest of the boys and other members of JYPE are sitting nearby.

There is an empty space to his right, and in front of it, the table is full of your favourite foods, snacks and drinks.

His eyes are stuck on that empty seat.

“Wow, they really brought me a lot.” You chuckle, looking at Chris with your head supported by your right hand, your elbow against the table. “How am I supposed to eat all of this?”

He watches the scene stunned.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why the long face?” You ask, the smile on your face wider, raising a hand to caress his cheek.

The next time Chris blinks, you’re gone.

The seat is empty.

~

The boys insist that Chan comes with them to the dorms, or that at least some of them come home with him.

“It’s not good to be alone.” Hyunjin says sympathetically, and Chris simply shakes his head.

What if you come back home tired and want to rest, but the boys are there visiting? He asks himself. It wouldn’t be fair to you.

So, he goes home alone, after much bargaining with them that he needs some time on his own.

The silence that greets him once he opens the door to your shared apartment is deafening.

He first goes to the bedroom to check if you’re back yet, but the sheets stay as empty as when he woke up two days ago, so he pulls out his phone to dial your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

The beep sound follows soon after, and he begins talking.

“Babe, I know you’re mad at me. I was wrong. I’m sorry. It’s time to come back home now. Please?”

A second beep follows, signalling that the time to record his message is over, so he ends the call. He ignores the countless notifications piling up on his screen, all the Condolences messages he’s been receiving, and he places the phone in his pocket and starts making the bed.

“Wow, well done, Channie! I’m impressed!” He can almost hear you chuckling, and turns his head towards the door, fully expecting you to be there laughing at him and praising him for doing the bare minimum, but there’s no one there.

Once the bed is made, he heads towards the living room. A half empty glass of water is on the table, its margins stained by your lipstick, next to a plate full of breadcrumbs.

Tsk, how messy. He rolls his eyes, knowing exactly why you haven’t cleaned up. You must’ve eaten in a rush again, this bad habit of yours.

You’re always complaining about stomach aches, but you keep eating on the go while getting ready for work in the morning, and never enjoy your meals.

He takes a picture of the crime scene and opens his phone again, shooting you a text.

“Forgot to clean up?” He asks, then attaches the picture of the plate and glass.

He knows you’ll probably laugh and start excusing yourself once you see it. If he were to check his gallery, half the pictures are surely of the dirty plates you simply forget about on the table.

Chris always washes them, but never fails to remind you of it.

This time, too, he takes the plate and glass to the sink and turns on the hot water. He rubs the plate with a dish sponge with way too much dish soap on it, and he hears your voice in the back of his head again:

“My, Channie! You’re so wasteful! You only need a drop. A single drop!!! What are you using so much dish soap for???”

He starts laughing as he grabs the glass and throws the half-drunk water out, but before washing it, he notices the lipstick stains again. He smiles to himself and sets the glass aside, wiping it off with a napkin, careful to not accidentally remove the stain.

Your lips left such a pretty mark, he doesn’t want to part with it yet, even if you are going to give him an earful later for not washing the glass properly.

When there is nothing else to do around the house, he opens his laptop and starts sorting out his emails. All of their schedules for the month have been cancelled, and their upcoming comeback postponed indefinitely.

He doesn’t think it’s necessary, but at the end of the day, the company’s rules must be followed. You’ve complained about him working too much anyway. Maybe this is the chance for you two to spend a bit more time together.

All he has to do now is wait for you to come back.

~

He waits.

And waits.

And waits…

Felix visits with Jisung and Seungmin the next day.

And then the next, Jeongin comes with Changbin and Hyunjin.

Minho drops by every morning with enough food to last Chris the whole day.

His manager comes once a week and makes sure to call him daily.

Whenever he’s on the phone, he paces around the empty apartment and looks around. He sees the jewellery you left on the coffee table; your sports shoes are still on the doormat in front of the door, your face creams and serums stay untouched in the bathroom, your hairbrush lays by the sink filled with loose hair, and there’s a half-ironed shirt on the ironing table in the dressing.

You don’t like other people touching your stuff, so he leaves everything just like that, waiting for you to come back and fix it all.

The glass with your lipstick stain on it is still there on the counter, next to the sink.

He’s texted you about a dozen of times since he first messaged you about it and the plate that’s long been washed, but you haven’t replied to a single text. Your phone still goes directly to voicemail, but worst of all… no matter how much he’s waiting…

… you don’t come home, and the apartment stays empty.

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right!’

~

‘Hello!’

---

Anger

---

It’s been more than a month, but Chris still sets the table for you each time he eats what Lee Know brings him.

He wouldn’t bother eating much, if Minho wouldn’t have insisted to tag along to practically every meal after he noticed that he’s barely touching the food.

He always places one more plate on the table, right in front of him, at your usual spot.

“Just in case she comes back and gets hungry.” He explains to Minho, but he’s had enough of this.

“Hyung…” Lee Know hesitates. “She… she’s not coming back. You know that, right?”

His tone is quiet, and he tries to approach the subject as gently as possible. However, it’s time for him to do something. You’ve died more than five weeks ago, but Chris hasn’t moved any of your belongings, not even to store them.

There’s a box of tampons on the kitchen counter, but he won’t even move that, for fuck’s sake. He keeps waiting for you to come home, as if he doesn’t realise the fact that you’ve passed away.

“No, she will.” Chris says firmly, daring Minho to challenge him more.

“Hyung… She… she died. She’s not coming back.”

“You’re wrong!” Chris shouts all of a sudden, hitting the table with his fist strong enough to make the tableware bounce. He knows Minho is right. After waiting for you for weeks on end without you coming back, after dialling your number about a million times, after sending countless texts with no reply from you… he knows. But…

“Chris…” Lee Know stares empathetically.

“You’re all wrong! She… she’s coming back, goddamit!” He shouts again, this time grabbing the table’s edges and flipping it. The empty plates fall to the ground and shatter in the process, and Minho’s pot spills on the carpet, staining it.

Chris tries to cling to the last bit of hope he has regarding you, but he knows you’re dead. Everyone else was right, and he was wrong. You’re really gone.

“I’m sorry, Hyung. You… you need some help…” Lee Know continues with a shake of his head, bending down to grab the broken pieces of glass.

When he’s done cleaning up the carpet and the floor to the best of his abilities, he takes one more look at Chan. He looks like a ticking bomb, ready to explode again any second now.

Lee Know doesn’t know if it would be good to give Chan space, or if he should insist again that he comes with him to the dorms.

He decides to ask him anyway, and to his surprise, Chris nods and packs a small bag with clothes and hangs it on his shoulder.

They made their way out to Lee Know’s car, and once they’re at the dorms, they say goodbye as each goes to their respective apartments. Chris used to live with 3RACHA and Hyunjin, so that’s where he’s headed.

The dorms are as messy as he remembers, but they bring him comfort nontheless. His old room brings him solace as well.

There are a few pictures or you on the small desk in his room, and he looks at them fondly. You’re smiling beautifully in all of them. It’s the you he remembers. You, at your first date; you, the first time he took you to an amusement park; you, when all your fingers were coated in chocolate after you attempted to bake him a cake.

It’s you.

God, how he misses you.

How dare you leave him alone?

How dare you?

Why didn’t you fucking look to the left before crossing the road? Even if the traffic light was green, you should’ve fucking looked.

You’ve always been careful to look, so why…?!

Watching the pictures no longer makes him happy. It makes him angry, and out of anger, he punches the wall behind the desk with all his strength.

It makes no sense, really, but the pain in his fist takes away from the pain in his heart, so he punches the wall again.

He decides to try and calm down after hitting the wall two more times, and he hops into his old bed, shutting his eyes tight and thinking about the night you died.

‘I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.’

Those were some of the last words he’s said to you.

Since you’ve died a few blocks away from the JYPE building, it happened right after you left.

You died thinking he doesn’t love you.

You died thinking he doesn’t need you.

He does.

He needs you.

If only he’d gone home with you that night, as you asked him, you would’ve never died.

It’s his fault.

It’s his fault you’ve died.

He killed you.

He lashed out on you and blamed all his stress on your attempts to take care of him, and he killed you.

Fuck, it’s all his fault.

For the first time since the funeral, he bursts out in tears, and he is unable to stop. It’s like all of his repressed feelings for the past month and a half come biting him right in the ass.

It’s so hard to breathe. He’s getting suffocated.

He can’t.

He can’t breathe anymore.

You’re on top of him, suffocating him.

“You killed me.” You say, blood running down your face.

He can almost feel the drops hitting him, with your face so close to him.

“It’s your fault. “You knew what you were saying. You killed me.” You say again cruelly, and Chris shuts his eyes even tighter.

His cries soon turn to wails, and he’s being loud enough for Changbin to hear him and get alerted. He opens the door without knocking, and upon seeing Chris, his heart breaks.

He just goes to the bed and throws himself on top of Chris, as if to shelter him somehow from the intense grief he’s feeling.

When his cries quiet down, Changbin takes a look at his friend and sees his injuries.

“Holy fuck, your hand is bleeding. Are you okay?” He asks in panic, standing up quickly to grab the first aid kit to bandage his fist.

“It’s all my fucking fault!” Chris screams at the top of his lungs, and his destructive mood comes back. He stands up, wanting to destroy it all. Every damn picture, every fucking thing in this room.

He wants to set it on fire and let it it all to pieces, letting himself burn as well. It’s what he deserves for killing you.

Sure, the drunk driver that hit you was directly responsible for taking your life, but the way he acted that night… nothing would’ve happened if it weren’t for him.

He killed you.

Changbin sees right through his erratic behaviour and anticipates his moves, throwing himself once more at Chris, holding him tight and not letting him move, no matter how much Chris lashes out. He doesn’t let go until his friend calms down again, and even after he does, he decides to camp in the room with him and keep him company.

---

Bargaining

---

It’s been three months, and Chris still has some difficulties accepting that you’re truly gone.

He probably shouldn't be here so soon, but it’s like he has to make sure again that you’re… that you’re dead.

Your parents did a great job with your grave; your gravestone made of marble stands tall , centred right in front of the ground you’re buried deep within, and the intricate designs of sculpted vines and flowers reminds him of you.

Oh, right. Flowers.

Chris remembers he brought a bouquet of pink peonies with him. He’s been holding onto it tightly ever since he bought it and stepped in a taxi to come here, but as soon as he got to your grave, time stopped, he couldn’t breathe anymore, and he forgot about the flowers in his hands.

It’s not like you need any more; there are so many fresh flowers all over and around your grave. Your parents also planted lots on top of the soil above your coffin, decorating your rest place beautifully.

You’ve always said you wanted a garden, and now, you have one: your little space in the uncomfortably large cemetery at the edge of the city.

“My favourite flowers. Aren’t they pretty?” He swears he can hear your voice, and turning to his left side, his breath hitches in his throat, choking him.

There you are, holding the bouquet of pink peonies he bought with a large smile on your face, but just like last time, he blinks, and the bouquet is in his hands, as it’s been the whole time, and you’re nowhere in sight.

A tear rolls down Chan’s cheek. He wishes he would’ve bought you that house and garden you’ve been dreaming of, instead of the convenient apartment in the city centre.

He wishes he would’ve proposed, and that you’d build a little family together. After all, you were his solace in the midst of all the chaos of his life. The sole person bringing him purpose and comfort.

But now you’re gone.

He wishes he wouldn’t have always put his job first. Especially now, as his schedules stay empty due to the company fearing for his well-being, he realises how much free time he could’ve had if only – if only he’d listened to you.

He regrets all those late nights in the studio when he could’ve been home sleeping next to you.

He regrets every breakfast, lunch and dinner he’s missed because he was too busy with making a new song, learning a new dance, or preparing for a new comeback. Now, none of it matters. You’re gone.

He could’ve postponed all of them. He could’ve done so much differently, and he regrets it all.

You’re gone.

He places the peonies in a little vase near your gravestone, next to some daffodils someone must’ve brought you a few days ago.

Then, he raises his gaze and reads the inscription in the headstone’s marble. It’s your favourite poem by Clare Harner.

Good choice, he thinks, as he goes through the lines of Immortality and traces each engraved letter with his fingers.

~

‘Do not stand by my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am the thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints in snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle, autumn rain.

As you awake with morning's hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the day transcending night.

Do not stand by my grave, and cry--

I am not there, I did not die.’

You stopped reciting the poem and took a deep breath, looking expectantly at Chan.

“Isn’t this poem beautiful?” You asked him, your eyes sparkling.

“A bit morbid, but yes.” Chris chuckled as he placed the freshly made pasta dish in a large plate and served you dinner.

“Aww, thank you. Smells so good!” You grinned in delight, your eyes closing into crescents, as they always did whenever you smiled brightly.

He couldn’t help but press a quick chaste kiss against your lips before he sat down as well.

“So, pasta master, show me how it’s done.” You encouraged him, nudging his elbow and handing him your fork and spoon.

“Tsk, you’re so spoiled.” Chris tutted jokingly, but complied nonetheless and started twirling the pasta with the fork. Once it became an appropriate bite-sized portion, he raised the fork and supported it with the spoon as he brought the food to your mouth.

“Mmmm, so good!” You exclaimed with a few quick, excited small claps, as soon as you started feeling the flavours.

“Of course, what were you expecting?” Chris chuckled.

“Only the best from you.” She praised, petting his head fondly. “So, about the poem. Do you think it’s good enough for my presentation?”

“For Uni? Yeah, of course. Anything you’d pick is good enough, babe. You have your way with words, and you recited it very beautifully.”

“You think?” You beamed at his words, and he nodded. “Thank you, Channie. I really really like it, but I was afraid it wasn’t appropriate.”

“No, it is. You can use it.”

“If the lyrical genius says so, it must be true.” You stood up briefly and kissed his cheek, before returning to your seat and starting eating the pasta.

~

God, how many years ago was that?

Chris bursts out crying for the millionth time this month, and grabs the headstone with both his hands, feeling his knees grow weak.

On the brink of collapse, he uses your gravestone for support as he weeps louder.

“Can’t you come back?” He asks, his voice shaking. “Please. Please come back. Please. I… I promise I’ll do better, hm? I promise I’ll no longer stay as late in the studio, so please… please…”

The headstone can’t support him enough when his hands go weak as well, and he falls to his knees right in front of the poem.

“If only – If only I’d left with you that night. If only we hadn’t fought. God… please, please come back. We still have to make up.”

He cries for what feels like hours, and his body grows cold.

“Please… please…” He forces out again. “Come back… come back… we have so much we want to do… come back… I need… I need more time with you, please. Please.”

And he cries again.

And again.

And again, until he feels a hand on his shoulder a while later, and he turns his head around hopeful, thinking you might’ve somehow heard his pleas and returned to him.

His expression falls as he sees Seungmin looking concerned at him, and then he frowns even more noticing the pathetic way he looks in his eyes’ reflection.

Seungmin falls to the ground next to Chan, hugging his side tightly. Then, he helps him stand up and balance on his feet.

Chris is grateful for Stray Kids being there for him, but he just wishes… it would’ve been you standing next to him instead of Seungmin.

---

Depression

---

Chris has never experienced such an intense fatigue before. Every part of his body hurts, and it’s like his muscles are screaming at him each time he stands up. He is lethargic and looks haggard and in desperate need of rest, but rest doesn’t come by too easily as of late.

It’s 5AM and he’s in the studio again, but instead of doing anything productive, like finishing up that song he’s started working on two months ago that he keeps beating himself up for, he watches how beautiful you looked in the picture on his desk.

You used to be so full of life and so gorgeous. Your smile could make anyone happy, and your laugh – God, how much he misses your laugh.

He misses your voice.

Sometimes, he can’t even remember what it sounds like, and he thinks it’s absurd; it hasn’t been that long since you passed. Only about a year. He shouldn’t forget it so soon.

He grabs his phone and manually types the digits to your number. He still hasn’t forgotten it, and with how deep it’s been ingrained in his memory, he doesn’t think he ever will.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He hasn’t cried in some time while thinking of you, but now, he’s on the verge of tears again. You used to sound so carefree.

You used to be so happy.

He doesn’t know when he started referring to you in past tense, but as soon as the realisation hits him, he lets a couple of tears stain his cheeks.

Chris is tired. He hasn’t slept in… God knows how many days. He’s always had trouble sleeping, but nowadays, his insomnia has been getting worse and worse. His doctor prescribed him some pills that are supposed to help, but he can’t even be bothered to take them anymore. They don’t help him rest anyway. If he takes them, he wakes up confused, disoriented, and with an even worse headache.

His phone is still in his hand and his finger brushes over his screen. He didn’t have the heart to change his lockscreen picture. It’s still you.

He hasn’t seen you in what feels like years. The first few months when he’d been haunted by your ghost were tough, but now that he hasn’t seen any glimpse of you in months, day to day life is getting harder and harder to navigate.

You don’t even visit him in his dreams anymore, on the seldom nights he sleeps. If he takes the small white pills, he doesn’t dream of anything, and he so desperately wants to see you again, to touch you, that he refuses to take them. That’s the other reason he doesn’t.

Fuck, this is hard.

Are you supposed to feel so devastated after a whole year?

Back then, years passed by so quickly – it meant comeback after comeback, work, work and more work, and time with you was scarce but very appreciated. Time used to fly, and without him knowing how much time passed, you’ve celebrated your 5th anniversary. He was planning to propose to you soon. He was looking at rings, but then you…

Time doesn’t pass by as quickly anymore. This year stretched for so long, it felt like a decade instead of barely 12 months. With each passing month, it was like nothing was changing at all for Chris, but now, looking back, everything feels different.

He’s a completely different person than the one that was staying in the studio up until 5 AM last year, and he blames himself so, so much for his unchanging bad habits.

He blames himself for your death still. It’s his fault, and this thought only makes him more hopeless and more depressed.

He’s lost weight. A lot of it, to the point where the company had to have an ‘intervention’. Whereas last year his body was toned, his abs perfectly sculpted and his form admirable, he now looks like a ghost of himself.

If he eats, his stomach immediately starts hurting. He threw up 3 times this week alone.

Your death still has such a big emotional toll on him, and he’s tried it all. He went to therapy. He still goes four times a week at his company’s requests. He’s on medication that makes him groggy and unable to think, medication that shut down all his feelings – not just the negative ones. He is numb, and when he isn’t, he feels utterly devastated and lost.

What is he supposed to do now, without you?

How come a year has already passed without you by his side? He’s even contradicting himself. Sometimes he feels that the year passed by slowly, and sometimes he looks back and doesn’t understand how he was able to live a whole year without you.

He needs you.

Fuck, he needs you so much, he still can’t believe he even insinuated that horrible night that he didn’t.

Life no longer has any purpose, and everyone around him is growing more concerned by the day, as this once optimistic man has left together with you, leaving in his place only a pessimistic, desperate person.

He realised how badly he wants to die exactly 6 months ago, when your sudden disappearance finally started sinking in for real. When he stopped bargaining with God or with whatever cruel higher power there might be in the sky to let you come back, even if just for 10 minutes, for enough time for him to kiss and hug you and tell you how much he’s missing you.

6 months ago, he started decorating his thighs with unsightly marks, some of them faded, other fresh. He can’t do it anywhere else, no matter how much he’d wished to cut his wrists open, for fear of anyone else noticing.

So, he takes his despair out on his poor thighs, pressing the small blade against his skin until he feels something, anything. Until blood starts pouring down and the shower’s water pools down at his feet completely red.

He winces in pain every time he does it, but at least he feels something different than the numbness that grows bigger and bigger in his heart, consuming everything in its way. His whole soul feels absorbed by it, crushed under the pressure.

On the rare occasions he’s not numb, he feels the immense grief your absence left. He now knows that you’ve not only taught him how to love, but also how it is to lose what you love, and it hurts. It’s excruciating, and his heart is being ripped apart still, each and every time he thinks of you, and your absence is tearing him apart from the inside out.

He is physically sick. His headaches are worse than ever. He can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He can’t do anything anymore. He doesn’t want to, either.

The only thing he wants is to die, but even this wish feels selfish. He sees the way his friends look at him, how they’re walking on eggshells around him, to not somehow mention anything that could trigger a bigger depressive episode than what he’s already going through. He only pushes through it because of them, because he knows how it feels to lose someone you truly love, and he doesn’t want them to have to live with this black hole in their chests.

But… the loneliness he feels is simply merciless. It’s pouring down on him like unyielding unforgiving rain, not showing him any pity, and so he tries to fills his days with something that would make him forget about the gap in his soul.

The company let him come back to work a while ago, but they didn’t plan any comeback for Stray Kids for the time being, nor are they planning any for the near future. He’s grateful they’re giving him time, because he’s in no shape or form ready to do anything, not when he’s withdrawn himself so much from everything he used to love.

It’s difficult to compose any up-beat songs, or any song, for that matter. It used to come naturally for him, but not anymore. Changbin and Jisung are doing their best to support him and make up for his lack of concentration, but it feels like he’s not bringing anything to the table anymore.

He’s missed practice over and over again. The Kids meet up every two days to dance to their older songs, and as they don’t have anything new to work with, they even started learning the dances of other popular songs, or creating choreographies that would fit western music. Chan never went. He stopped dancing 12 months ago, and he hasn’t even stepped in the practice room since you died, not even once.

He hasn’t sung since you died either, and no one said anything about it. No one blamed him at all. Not even his company, who he was sure was going to fire him in the first 6 months after your death.

They said they trust him, and that they’re going to give him as much time as he needs to recover. They talk about him like he’s sick, but he’s not sick. They don’t seem to understand that.

He’s not sick, he’s just devastated, and he doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to live again, to sing and dance on stage and to work hard, because this is no longer his dream.

He only dreams of death, and the thoughts of it are the only ones bringing him any solace. His therapist said he needs more time, and he quoted Lois Tonkin more times than he can count. He said that life will soon begin to grow bigger around grief, and that the intense sadness he’s feeling is just another expression of love for you. One that is permanent, but that will diminish as time passes and as he starts enjoying life again.

He doesn’t believe any of it, though.

How could he begin to enjoy life again, with you not there by his side?

---

Acceptance

---

He met someone.

For the first time in years, he felt genuine happiness again.

It took him one more year to start reengaging in some of his older hobbies and in his work. He started gradually going to the gym with Changbin and Lee Know, and eventually felt ready to start dancing and singing again. Another year later, he was ready to get back on stage and face all his fans, who’ve thankfully shown an unwavering support of his journey with grief.

He started feeling a bit better, and even though you were on his mind all the time, he was no longer dwelling on the pain of the loss of you. Your memory started bringing him more happiness, and he started looking fondly at all the sweet moments you’ve both shared together.

He started appreciating being able to have met you, to have lived 5 beautiful years next to you, and even though he still feels it is unfair that you’ve been taken away from him so cruelly and way too early, he no longer blames himself.

He still regrets the argument you had on the night you passed away, but he started slowly coming to terms with the fact that there was nothing he could do about it anymore, no way to take his words back. He started accepting that this is the one regret he’s going to have to take to his grave with him.

It took him one more year to start embracing life again, to start looking forward to his future with Stray Kids and to start actively making plans. He realised there was so much more he wanted to accomplish, and his dreams started coming back to him little by little, with the support of his friends and family.

He’s met her two years later.

When it happened, he was still not ready to give love a second chance. He thought it was way too soon, that he was disrespecting you by catching feelings for someone else. He felt like he was emotionally cheating on you.

He decided it’s time to join a support group at the recommendation of his friend, and he’s met a lot of people of all ages: some younger than him, some way older. The way they spoke about their former partners warmed up his heart, and they made him realise that loving again is not an affront to your memory. He can still keep loving you while loving someone else as well. He can still honour your memory.

He opened up to her, and he’s told her all about you. She wanted to know who you were, and she even visited your grave with him, holding his hand and talking to you at your gravestone. She told you she loves him and thanked you for being there for him while you were still alive, for giving him precious memories to hold onto.

She apologized for life being so unfair and taking you away from Chris so abruptly, and she assured you she’s going to take care of him to the best of her abilities.

She was really patient with him. She gave him as much time as he needed to come to terms with his feelings. He let him set the pace on what he was comfortable with doing. The first time they slept together was after more than one year of dating, but she didn’t mind waiting for as long as he felt necessary.

She loved him, and he loved her.

He proposed to her almost two years later, and they welcomed a child one year after their wedding.

He visited your grave on your 10th death anniversary with his son in his stroller, a baby boy he’s given your favourite name. You were still present in his thoughts, and his love for you never subsided.

He now simply has additional people to love and to grow old with, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss you still.

~

He decided to visit your grave again, even if walking has become a bit too difficult. Still, he manages the way from the car until your grave just fine, even if he has to support himself with a crane.

He is now old enough to be called ‘grandpa’, and not just as a joke between him and his friends. His hands are shaking, and his legs are a bit wobbly; his face is adorned with deep lines and creases, his forehead is wrinkly, and each fine line contributes to his now years-long life and experiences. The skin dropped around his cheeks, but every lady in the nursing home assures him he’s still a handsome man.

Your grave is no longer as tidy and beautifully adorned with fresh flowers. The soil has been overtaken by weeds and is in dear need of cleansing. He hasn’t visited in a while, unfortunately, his health issues making it a tad too hard, and with your parents long gone, there is no one else to take care of your resting place.

He makes a mental note to hire someone to clean it up and plant some flowers, but for the time being, he simply sets the bouquet of rose peonies in the small, chipped vase next to your headstone.

The inscription in the once immaculate marble is no longer as visible, but he doesn’t need to read it in order to recognise Immortality by Clare Harner. He still remembers the poem by heart, and also all sorts of other small, insignificant things, like your old phone number that’s been disconnected decades ago.

He looks at your smiling picture, the one he took when you’ve just graduated from university, and he realises as if for the first time how young you were.

He’s grown old; he has multiple wrinkles, his skin sagged everywhere, and his body went through each transformation it was supposed to when advancing in years.

But you?

You’ve stayed young. You’ve stayed beautiful, cheerful, smiling. Your face stayed clear of any creases.

You’ve remained just as he remembers you.

You are immortal.

“I’m sorry for not coming in a while.” He speaks with a soft smile on his face.

“That’s fine. You are probably very tired.”

He swears he could hear your voice. Maybe the poem is right, and the whispers of the wind transform in your saccharine voice he’s so dearly missed.

“I’m truly sorry for what I’ve said.” He continues, feeling the need to apologize again for his harsh words that night. No matter how many years have passed and how many time he’s already apologised, he’s never forgiven himself.

“But I’ve forgiven you long ago.” The wind whispers, and he closes his eyes and nods his head.

“I still love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. I hope you know that.”

“I know.” The sunlight caresses his back, warming him up as the wind strengthens. “And I’m waiting for you, whenever you’re ready to meet me, my love.”

~The End~

---

(A/N)  Obligatory song: 11 minutes by Halsey and YUNGBLUD.

When my best friend showed me this song, I immediately fell in love with the concept of the music video, that’s based on the five stages of grief. I thought to myself that I simply must write a story like this, but of course, that was months ago and I’ve completely forgotten about it, as I usually do with most random ideas that come to mind that I don’t write down lol.

I couldn’t really sleep for the past few nights, so my mind kept brewing ideas and scenarios to keep me busy and hopefully lull me to sleep.

It didn’t work, because the five stages of grief came to mind and I knew I had to immediately write a story about it and not let the idea go this time, so I got out of bed at like 6:30 am and wrote and wrote on and off for a total of 13 hours, until this 10k words of pure despair have been created.

I hope you enjoyed it even though it probably sent you spiralling into depression. Thank you for reading nonetheless!

Love,

Storm

[puppyjaws]

Pretty boy 🦴

[anxious-chaos-art]

Digital artists I am SO SORRY FOR EVER BEING APATHETIC TO YOUR STRUGGLES

I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO DRAW THIS LADY DIGITALLY BETWEEN CLASSES AND IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A FUN LITTLE PROJECT FOR A FRIEND AND I WAS SUPPOSED TO PRACTICE COLORING AND I WAS GONNA SHOW YOU GUYS HER WHEN SHE WAS DONE BUT THE WILL OF GOD WAS AGAINST HER IG AUGHHHHH

SHE CRASHED TWICE

TWICE!!!!

AND BOTH TIMES IT DESTROYED MY DRAWINGS OF HER!!!!

[13eyond13]

one of the lesser talked about fun things about intentionally reading more books is finding new stuff to be a bit of a hater about tbh

[muppetsnoopy]

I was complaining to a friend abt some harmless shenanigans my bf had gotten into and she was like "he's really just the ernie to your bert huh?" much 2 think abt........

[hauntingblue]

YAMATO NEW NAKAMA PLEASE 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️LUFFY PLEASE!!!!

[kamiversee]

Big ruby shaded eyes, matching that of her father’s, have this adorable thin layer of gloss over them as she pleads with her parent for the millionth time.

“Daddy pwease?” She has the cutest little pout on her face, one that’s worked on her mother time and time again that’s sure to work on her father too—

“No.” Sukuna says yet again.

The child is tired of asking and receiving that same answer over and over. She doesn’t understand one bit why but she hates hearing that word. Folding her arms, she lets out an annoyed puff, “Mommy would never tell me no…”

One statement and there’s already another vein bulging in the right corner of Sukuna Ryomen’s forehead. “Go away, brat.” He breathes out in an overly irritated tone.

The child, unable to take no for an answer and more like her father than she even realizes, takes her foot and brings it down on the curse’s foot in frustration.

If he wasn’t ticked off before, he damn sure is now. “You little—“

“Sukuna,” And there it is, the voice of the sole human in this reality who could ever even dream of cutting the king of curses off mid-sentence. Not only is it you, the mother of his overly insolent child, but you have the nerve to give him that scolding tone he hates (loves).

He scowls for a long moment before looking down to the smaller human who carries more of your features than his. “Fine, child.” Sukuna drawls out after a long roll of his many eyes.

Then, with a big smile plastered all over her small face, her hands are shooting up and she’s making a grab motion with her hands.

Sukuna stares down at her and sighs, “You really are a spoiled brat, y’know…” He grumps while leaning down to pick his daughter up with one out of his two pairs of hands. “…Just like your damn mother.”

The child’s smile fades for a moment and she tilts her head, “Damn?” She repeats in a confused tone, making Sukuna’s heart spike.

“Wait-, don’t… don’t say that.” He’s been down this road one two many times—having taught the child how to say ‘fuck’ the moment she began spewing words. He received an earful from you that he didn’t care for so, here he is now, “That’s a bad word.”

His daughter blinks, “But, Daddy said it.”

Sukuna groans lowly in irritation, “Daddy can say whatever the hell he wants.”

“Hell?” Oh she had to be doing this on purpose, knowing her mother was only a room away.

“Child.” The curse scolds, “Are you trying to irritate me?”

She shrugs playfully, “This is what you get for telling me no.”

“You asked me if you could draw on my face.” He deadpans.

“And you should’ve said yes,” You suddenly chime in, entering the room, “Instead of teaching her more curse words.”

The little girl snickers in Sukuna’s arms and he swears he has an image of the child being flung across the room for just a moment. That image is interrupted by the girl speaking again.

“Like fuck?” She says loud and clear. “I heard Daddy say it again earlier today—“

A big hand goes over her mouth (practically her entire face) and she’s cut off by her father who’s innocently smiling at you, his darling wife.

“Ignore her. I was just about to let her draw on my face so,” He glances down at his daughter who’s giggling victoriously beneath his palm and then sighs, “If you’ll excuse us.”

You’re left smiling at the two as Sukuna turns away with his daughter and exits the room—the sound of them bickering as soon as they’re out of sight heard moments later.

And the next time you lay eyes on the two, Sukuna’s got a face full of stickers and marker and his little mini-me has a mocking face full of her father’s markings. To which you just had to take a million and one pictures of.

[mrfoox]

Me? Expressing my insecurities before bed? It's more likely than you think...

Me: I'm... I feel like I'm asking so much from you each time, I'm waiting for you to say "no, stop" and to get upset with me

Tor: you're... Not exactly asking for anything demanding....?

How do I explain to someone that I've spent my entire life too afraid to ask anything of anyone and only slowly learnt it as an adult?

[screampied]

‘GHOSTIN' ?! ★

ᡴꪫ sum. it's midnight and you're bored. bored and horny. everyone knows ghosts aren't real, or are they? you end up summoning a ghost and he's not leaving anytime soon, in fact, he wants to give you a taste of your own medicine for disrupting his slumber. you get a taste, alright.

wc. 5.0k

warnings. fem! reader, ghost! toji, unprotected, switch toji, praise, dirty talk, oral (m! receiving), manhandling, spit, impact play, brēeding, biting, size kink, mentions of tummy bulge, nipple play.

an. don't summon ghosts unless their name is toji fushiguro idk

don’t summon ghosts they said—you’ll regret it in the end they said,

but who cares? not you. besides, it’s not like ghosts even exist. you’ve never been one to believe in paranormal activity anyway, although all of that starts to change on a specific night. this night, the clock just struck twelve and you’re bored out of your skull. it was an ordinary sunday night and it was just you and your dead quiet apartment walls. as you’re scrolling on your phone, glancing at your feed a certain link catches your eye. wanna summon a ghost? click here to find out how.

to keep it brief, your curiosity eventually gets the best of you. with a snort, very much not believing the lengthy follow up article that warns you of the possible dangers to come of the spirit, you go into your bathroom, following the steps before your lights flicker. at first nothing happens, oh, see you knew ghosts weren’t real. annoyed a bit that you wasted fifteen minutes of your time—you prepare to leave the restroom when you feel a cold hand on creep on your shoulder.

“tch. the nerve,” a rough voice murmurs behind you. you tense up, craning your neck to indeed see the ghost that was displayed on the picture. yet, he looks more human-like if anything. toji, the name that was said to be his. toji eyes you up and down before a scoff leaves from his reddened slick lips. “why’d you summon me..”

you’re taken aback immediately. with a staggering height of almost six feet, you meet the soulless eyes of a mere attractive spirit. “i— uh,” you sheepishly peer down at your feet, not in a million years thinking it’d actually work. “you’re a real ghost?”

“uh obviously,” he murmurs, mocking your expense. trodding his bare feet across your carpet floor as if he knows the layout, he scratches his chest. “eh, what a mess. you live here?”

ouch, so he was hot and rude. figures,

you take a moment to gawk at the ghost’s attire. nothing really too appealing—just a simple white t-shirt with sweats. it almost could be mistaken as an eerie nightgown if you squint. again, he looks more human than an actual spirit. it was just the paleness of his skin that gave away his non-human features. his clothes weren’t the only thing you were staring at though.

his bulge,

its hard to not notice it, especially with a size like toji’s. you spot the invading print poke through his sweats, the roundness of it, basking in all its dirty glory. you had to restrain yourself from making a fool of yourself — licking your lips and almost allowing your lewd, obscene thoughts to take over. you couldn’t help it though, it was quite literally all in your face. you’re so entrapped in your little phantasm that you don’t even feel the ghost flicking his chilly cold fingers against your forehead.

“girl are you even listening?” he rasps.

“h-huh?” you look up, snapping out of whatever trance had you on such a leash.

toji deadpans, a groan sliding past his lips before he eyes you up and down. his gaze alone makes you nervous. “don’t huh me, i saw what you were looking at,” and he peels up his shirt with a single hand, exposing his curled up washboard abs. god, even as a ghost he was so ripped. your eyes ogle down towards the sable-black boxers he wore, the hem of it peeking from over his pants before he hums, amused. “wanna feel?”

“can i…?” your voice trails off, and it’s so pathetic and soft. you could hardly recognize your own softened tone but you didn’t care.

“knock y’erself out.” he hoarsely shrugs, and you barely give him a chance to finish before your fingers twang against his skin.

immediately, you feel how cold his body was, a shivering temperature that ghosts against your digits as you feel against his body. jade pupils of his burn into you as he watches intently. the hardness of his abs — you feel everywhere, the texture of it was rock hard. his muscles, the way he carried himself, the flexing of his abs. it was all just so attractive. despite how the lower half of his body was freezing, you continued to let your fingers wander on every part of his abdomen.

“you’re cute,” he murmurs, and you don’t realize he’s been staring at you the entire time. toji had to admit, for a human, you were quite easy on the eyes. maybe even his type, if he was a human himself. “are ya always this handsy towards people you first meet or…?”

“not really,” you huff, and your hand trails deeper until it stops near a certain area.

his happy trail,

it was so pretty, jumbles of blackened curly hairs run down near the under part of his v-line. he’s so perfectly sculptured. it was easy to compare his ghostly anatomy to a mere greek god. so perfect, the more your fingers explore down his muscular frame, the colder your fingertips get. “wow, are you sure you’re not a human?”

“wanna find out?”

his words struck right into you like a knife strikes its enemy — you pause, leering up at him with glossy eyes and a slight head tilt. in a coy tone, you rub the back of your neck. “y- yes.”

“c’mere then, girl.”

inching towards him, the ghost then pulls you into a longing kiss. its passionate at first then shifts to sloppy. you moan, feeling him try to pry open your lips with his tongue to allow him access. you do, savoring his freshly minty taste and even his tongue was just as cold. toji tasted like hypothermia—chillingly cold, yet your lips stuck against his like ice. speaking of, his lips stuck against yours like velcro, like glue. your breathing continues to grow heavier by the second before he snakes a hand around your neck, giving it a delicate squeeze. already, you were weak for his touch. toji’s thumb skids against the middle opening of your throat, physically feeling the vibrated sensations pour out from your sweet little esophagus.

a gasp wretches from your throat once you feel the front of his knee go right between your legs. it’s sneaky, the friction you feel from that muscle alone earns a soft noise from you. you whine in his mouth as tongues dance and tangle together in harmony.

where there’s harmony, there’s sync,

he loved the way your tongue curls into his mouth, tasting and savoring his minty flavor. you only wanted more by each dreadfully long second that passes. wobbly arms of yours sling around his neck and the static from his rubbing knee only grows. “f-fuck.” you’d whimper between hot, sultry kisses. suddenly, the air felt thick and heavy. you’re panting, lungs already feeling like they were about to collapse as he gingerly starts to suck on your neck. while he does, you succinctly open your eyes to see him already staring at you. darkened raven eyes, long untrimmed bangs that almost shield his eerie pupils alone, his eyes told a thousand stories.

his eyes told a thousand stories and maybe you wanted to know more about this ghoulish visitor.

after a while, the steamy kiss ends up departing and you gasp for air. “knees, pretty. get down for me.”

with how compliant you were, it was almost amusing to see. you get down on your knees, being face first with his bulge yet again. you just wanted to run your tongue everywhere. so full and well rounded, you already started to feel the saliva trickle into your mouth. mouthwatering. toji’s eyes rove towards the pullover hoodie you wore. with an impish expression, he claws a hand over your head delicately. a free finger of his crooks near your chosen attire.

“this. take it off, wanna see more of your body.” he utters in a low tone.

“for a ghost, you’re pretty pervy.” you tease, hauling the piece of clothing over your head.

“girl please. says the mortal staring at my crotch,” and as your hoodie is suddenly removed, he takes a good peek at your bra. he simpers. “mhm,” he inhales for a second, taking in your frame for a few solid moments. toji’s eyes then glance towards your chest. “bra, take that off too.”

you unclasp the back strap of your bra with one hand and he grunts once he sees your breasts spring free. “fuck, y’er pretty. ‘m gonna ‘hafta take my time with you.”

and he does,

toji’s got you on all fours, cutely struggling to take him fully into your mouth. his ruby-colored tip greets you and you can’t help but skitter your tongue against the frenulum. he groans, raking a hand in your scalp. as he’s standing, he moves a few strands of hair away from your face. “yeah, open that jaw. get it wet, spit on it if you have to, doll.”

“mmf,” a muffled moan comes from you as your knees dig into the ground. his taste was flavorless and still you wanted to savor it. sweet like candy, toji’s scent alone clogs up your nostrils and his darkened pubic hair tickle against the rim of your nose. he’s just so big though, so fucking big . .

as you’re taking him down inch by inch, it’s hard to try not to gag as he continues to gradually shove himself into your throat. toji’s abs clench and tighten as he sees your jaw hang open, giving you a single thrust and you pull away to gasp. already, you’re starting to drool for him. with your mouth left open ajar, it had easy access to the saliva dribble down the sides of your lips and onto your chin.

“heh, ‘s too big for you? that’s my bad.” he purrs.

“shut up,” you grumble, your tongue licking alongside his dick. a throbbing vein of his that runs down his side pulses against your tongue and you hear him hiss. toji’s still got a hand combing into your hair, pulling your head up concisely just so he can see that pretty face one more time. “so f-fuckin’ big.”

“this is just y’er mouth, wait ‘till ya feel me from the inside.”

you roll your eyes at his cockiness, preparing to take him inside of your mouth again. your spit covered lips open up and he coos once he sees that you’re slobbering. you let a few amounts of your sheeny saliva pour onto his shaft, wetting it in the process. “play with y’er tits, use ‘em.”

you grab ahold of your plump mounds, brushing a thumb against your perked nipples before your head starts to bob. as he’s sinking his dick into your tight little throat, he groans.

toji could get used to the warmth of your mouth, your plush lips suffocating all around him — he was addicted, and so were you.

with your head resuming to jolt up and down, bobbing repeatedly from the decent pace, your tongue continues to flick against his leaky tip, relishing in the bitterly sweet pre-cum that resides against the very top. another muffled moan slips past your lips as you’re still playing with your breasts, feeling them bounce against each other in crude tandem.

“such a pretty mouth… ugh,” he tightens his grip against your hair, thrusting his hips into you a bit. you break your hands away from your tits to latch onto his thighs. immensely, your fingers dig into the cottony fabric of his sweatpants. toji starts to pant laboriously. heave after heave, you’ve got him sweating already. peeping down, his dick twitches at the sight of your spit dribbling down the corners of your pretty purses lips.

as it travels — it cascades like a waterfall, landing between the curvature of your chest. “mhm, jus’ like that. good girl. haah, ‘s good.”

as his hands rummage in your hair, it’s still maintaining its strengthening grip—you inhale through your nose as your head bounces in consistency. his fingers were still crispy cold, you’re feeling frosty all the way from the waist down.

not only were you feeling frosty though, you were throbbing..

it was no mistake. the sudden adds of multiplying throbs that pang against your pussy makes you start to whine as a hand of yours reaches between your thighs. your panties protect your slick arousal and a pout contorts against your lips as you’re still having your mouth stuffed full of ghostly cock.

“f-fuuuck, y’er fuckin’ nasty. play with y’erself while ya suck me off, do it.” he groans, it was as if he read right through your mind. toji’s breathing starts to pick up as he’s keeping strict eye contact with you. doe-eyed and all, your lashes suddenly shut close for a few seconds. toji meanly pistons his hips, and you moan as you drag your fingers against your sheathed pussy. peeling your laced panties to the side—you strum two digits against your slick entrance, starting to rut back and forth. toji snickers, ruffling the top of your head. “gonna fill this throat up with so much cum, you want that, sweets?”

abruptly, you pry your mouth away from his fattened dick before breathing in a gasp of fresh air. slyly, you hum, a hand wrapping around his hefty base. “don’t you mean with ectoplasm?”

“y’er mouth’s getting smart,” he sneers, grabbing ahold of your head before making you go back down.

toji started to get addicted to your frisky tongue. the way it’s so sloppy, slurping up every part of his fervor, he only wanted more.

he’s a ghost and well, it’s been a while..

as his dick perfectly tucks inside of your mouth, you take him even further. a clammy hand of yours starts to fondle with his balls and he groans. with his jaw tightening, he starts to feel his thigh pounce. “fuuuuck me,” he heaves lowly, knowing his finish was about to approach rather sooner than later. he was just so thick in your throat, tap-tapping away at your little uvula. toji stares at your pretty slobbering lips, your hands still crammed all up inside of your cunt before he presents a more thorough thrust into your mouth.

a familiar primal heat pools into the very depths of your tummy before you hear toji suck his teeth.

it’s a long, deep and sexy groan.

it bellows throughout the thin walls of your small apartment — his face turns sour and you start to feel a surprised guest get introduced on your tongue.

his cum tastes more sweet which was peculiar. usually it’s tastelessly bitter, bland and purely insipid.

but with him, it was sugary sweet. as he pours such volumes of satiny ropes into your mouth, your hands continue to cling onto his pants. it’s a lot, with the way the ghost’s cock erupts into your mouth it’s like a volcano. spitting out such gooey sums of seed. its warmth has you wanting more, as it fills the very inside of your mouth, your tongue swirls all around the savory uncanny mixture.

toji yokes your head back, taking his heavyset dick out of your mouth and you gawk at how red it was now. from the very top, a smile stretches against your lips knowing you did that. swollen, fat balls of his were all in your face, neglected and just desperate to be played with a bit more.

“shit,” he sighs, taking a moment to breathe. toji looks down at your dumb expression, more smug than anything. a hand of his cups underneath your chin before he bends down, pulling you into a deep kiss. again, you return the favor, glissading your tongue against his. it tickles and tangos together, enjoying each other’s wet company. he grunts, reveling in the sweetened taste of his own cum that’s just residing inside your mouth. no shame, no shame at all. the kiss was much sloppier this time—toji pulls away to lick near the corner of your lips, capturing a few remnants of his own seed that tries to stream down from your mouth and below toward your chin. breaking away, he grabs your neck softly, giving you an intimating stare. “you,” the ghost murmurs, his eyes flickering towards your bed. “i wanna break you.”

“you’ll have to pay for that you kn-”

“don’t make me drag you, human.”

you let off a soft playful ‘oof’ once you’re faintly tossed on your own bed. his strength was out of this world— quite literally though,

you look at toji and he inches himself closer towards you. as he leans in for another warm kiss, his body presses up against yours. he starts to grind against you, the friction leaves a wave of fuzz in your ears that never seems to go away. cold glacial lips squashing against your own as you flick your tongue against his, moaning for more. as he’s claiming your mouth in such a rough way, you start to paw at his pants. you feel a simper tug against his lips as he makes out with you, feeling the weight of the bed collapse and shriek a bit in ponderous discomfort.

“taste so good,” he grouses, withdrawing his lips to nip chaste kisses near your neck. you moan, feeling him prop between your thighs. he then licks all against the hidden crevices of your collarbone. “ever fucked a ghost before?”

“usually i’m more into humans,” you pant, and he gives you a subtle eye roll. if you knew a ghost such as toji would look this good — perhaps you’d summon him a long time ago on that stupid link.

“really, oh,” he plays along, prying your legs open a bit to take a quick peek at what he was about to destroy. with low hooded eyes, toji grunts as he sees your soaked pussy all open and on display for him. a padded thumb of his runs down your puffy slit and your legs twitch slightly as a greeting response. “mhm, such a pretty cunt. tell me though,” he huffs, enveloping all five digits around his cock to give it two single pumps. he prods his leaky cockhead against your entrance, watching you writhe underneath him. “before you summoned me, were ya playin’ with her?”

her as in between your legs, your pussy,

for some reason, toji addressing your cunt as her made you throb profusely. you felt it. an annoying ring screams through your ears as you slump back against your bed, your ankles making an attempt to lock around him. “n- no.”

“y- yea,” he mimicks your little stutter. your mouth drops as you feel yourself starting to gape open for him the moment he starts delve his dick into your pussy. he was so big, you feel the curve of the head and it’s just voluntarily crooking inside of you. toji gives you a side eye with misty peripherals, watching as you make an attempt to hide your face within the crack of your elbow. “nah, girl. don’t hide that pretty face from me. i wanna see you while i stretch you out.”

you moan, feeling his frigid fingers peel your arm away and he’s got a full face view of you.

already, your toes started to center with feelings of pure numbness. his thick cock splits inside of you so good that it’s already got you whimpering out elongated syllables. your voice was a euphony, “oh my g-goddd,” you whimper out, grabbing ahold of his shoulders. toji falls into your chest, still easing his way into your accepting walls. it’s relatively hot inside, smoldering gummy walls of yours entrap him, holding him hostage. he sibilates out a single hiss as you’re still trying to adjust to his massive size. his sack hangs from the base down and you let off a lusty giggle, already cockdrunk. “s-so the rumor’s true that ghosts have big dicks, f-fuck you’re gonna split me open.”

“heh, oh? that’s a fact, not a rumor,” he playfully flicks your forehead. a hand of his then clasps around your thigh. he spreads it apart, sinking into you further. he’s so deep, halfway in that your stomach’s already seizing. it was his tip that made you feel everything at once. the girth he has, he makes sure you feel every inch, every part. toji’s filling every area of your orifice with his spectral shaft. “ugh, clampin’ around me so good,” and he presses a palm against your tummy. “feel me here, yeah?”

and you do, as his hand gingerly brushes against the outer skirts of your stomach, your lips part into an ‘o’ shape of surprise. “y- yesss, fuck. ‘s deep, toji.”

“fuck,” he groans, and you let off a cute astounded, ‘oh’ once you feel him fully plug you all the way in. it’s a popping noise that you’ll never forget. heavy balls of his creates a single thrust and you jolt all the way back. clawing at the backsides of his skin, you whimper out a sweet melodic hum. “pussy’s gonna get me addicted, girl.”

your legs lock and ensnare around toji’s slim waist as he starts up a pace—he’s slow and steady at first. slow and steady wins the race, but with a dick as big as his, you’re already losing. not so much physically, at least not yet.

just a few fathomless thrusts from the ghost and you were whipped, starving for more. hungry even.

perhaps if this was some sort of dream, you didn’t wanna wake up. it all felt to real to just be your imagination anyway,

his hits against you were just so good that it was brutal. toji’s got you laid against your back so he can stare right into your eyes. he’s panting, gawking openly as he feels you bare down on him. your dense walls squeeze around him before he’s starting up a more salacious tempo. you could barely even keep up. you whine, craning your neck to the left a bit — to the right, then to the left for the umpteenth time. your legs were already shuddering, your cunt feels so stuffed of his shaft that you’re already flumped against the mattress. not even before long, it’s stares to bounce and judder from the clumps of weight on top of it. you dig your teeth into toji’s shoulder, whimpering at how he repeatedly thwacks his tip against that forbidden g-spot. “t- toji, tojiiii,” you hiccup, cross eyed and doe-eyed.

he could listen to your voice all day, a tune he could forever hum.

for the nth time within seven seconds, your pussy squelches from the parching sensations of pleasure. you’re so wet, sopping so much that you put faucets to shame. toji feels your slick trying to snail its way all the way down to his base. “that’s it, mhm. fuck against me, girl. c’mon, yeah,” he shushes up against your ear, licking against your lobe. you shiver, his voice all deep with a slight hint of rasp in it. a raw moan grabs itself from the back of your throat and you feel a hand of his snakes its way towards your jouncing tits. toji groans—leaning in to suck against your neglected nipples, feverish breath ghosting against your sweet skin before you whine. “god, you taste so mmf, good.”

as he’s still jerking his sharp hips into you at full might, his tongue swirls around your pretty nubs, savoring it. another ear splitting ‘pop’ leaves his lips each time he breaks away from your mounds. “could eat you up.”

“f- fuck, ‘s good, toji. harder p-pleaseee,” you mewl out, his weight that hovers over you sends you shivers all throughout your spine and body. strained deep inhales escape from your heavy lungs as you feel his calloused fingertips dance against your skin. a big hand of toji’s caresses alongside the curvilinear juncture of your body, your pretty physique—taking in your humanly beauty. oh, a sight for sore eyes.

toji was almost positive he was addicted to you, he’s fucking you so deep that he makes it so easy for you to jerk away from from your attentions. he even has a scent to him. despite his phantom being, his aurora alone was just enticing. its strong. the musk infiltrates the insides of your flared up nostrils and you whine again. your whine was more of a choke, clinging onto his back, scraping your nails down his tense back muscles.

“f-fuck, squeezin’ around me so good, baby,” he groans, leafy eyes staring into yours the entire time. toji leans in to nip kisses everywhere on your face, near your neck, and right back to your chest again. your body, he could get used to this,

to you.

maybe humans weren’t all that bad,

toji’s hips were rude, the perfect way to describe it. it really knew no bounds, he knew no bounds.

your glossy eyes glance up at him and he’s got nothing but a sly smirk plastered on his face. you study his features as he’s plowing you deeply into your own bed—the bed creeks and creeks that it sounds like it’s hanging onto his final hinges.

as you’re gazing into his features, the first thing you notice was that scar.

he’s got a slanting, slashing scar that runs down near the right side of his mouth. surprisingly, it makes him ten times more attractive than he already was. as you’re trapped in your own thoughts again, he moves his face closer to you to kiss an alluring slope down the side of your neck. just a few minutes with you and he was already memorizing each particular spot of yours.

an adorable lewd expression marinated against your features as your pussy continues to slosh and squeak against his thickened cock. he’s so big inside of you, your tummy ends up extending a bit from his angles he’s hitting. toji never misses a spot though, he’s a precise man, a precise ghost,

you’re left stupid with your tongue visibly lolling out. he can’t help but chuckle.

“look at that tongue, mhm,” and he takes the opportunity to suck against the limp muscle. you whine, hugging his beefy body tightly as you suddenly feel agitated with the pure feeling of your arousal. pretty soon, you were getting close.

he was too—he could feel it, warm bodies against each other, he was gonna lose it.

toji’s mouth goes against your neck, exposing his pearly whites and he bares a single fang. he buries it into the crook of your neck again, adam’s apple bobbing out from each guttural moan that detaches from him.

“f-fuck fuck,” you sob out, your ankles securely locking around his hips as he’s making more haste. you let off a tiny whine, his teeth gently nibbling against your flavorsome flesh. you tasted so sweet, he craved you. crimson lips of his twitch before he pulls you into another kiss. this time, it’s more passionate. as his tongue explores the very depths of your mouth, his tempo was now relentless. flimsy arms of yours continue to flop due to your weak grip against his wide shoulders before he gently bites your bottom lip. “inside,” you huff, licking the edge of his scar. a faint purr comes from toji once you do that and it’s a bit cute. “wanna feel you from the inside.”

“careful,” he groans into your neck, pressing a palm onto your tummy again. “you might get possessed after this.”

you pause, giving him a furrowed eyebrow look and he only sneers at you.

“joking, ghost cum ‘s harmless, baby. i think..”

he was nothing but a mere tease, you roll your eyes before you babble over and over in his ear for him to shoot inside of you. with ease, he’s emitting out all kinds of moans from you. you’re so loud, he’s got sensitive ears so it makes his ears twitch. your voice though, he’s so drawn in to hearing every little whine that departures from the backs of your precious throat.

welts of pleasure surge through your body as your chest recoils against his. gnawing down on your lip, you spasm once it finally approaches.

it’s a wave, pouring into you all at once. the crash was unexpected. expect the unexpected, they say.

your legs felt zealously numb, your eyes dramatically roll back as your high finally comes. it’s so much, you could still feel your cunt gaping. a whiney grunt cuts out of your throat before a squeal shortly follows. waves and waves of pleasure make way for you, pupils twinkling with stars, you were experiencing pure ecstasy.

shortly afterward, toji’s comes and when he cums, it’s a lot. he spurts into you in volumes, it dumps into you so good that you’re left twitching. suddenly, you grow quiet from the way his palm swats over your mouth. “listen to it with me. saved so much for you.”

and his words were slow, his breaths were slow, everything was ploddingly slow.

you don’t think you’ve ever felt more full in your life, your cunt constricts one more time around his length before you let off a dry whimper. “mmm,” you inhale a candied breath, he’s still buried balls deep. his hilt thrashes against your sodden entrance gently before he pulls out, staring at the mess. such goopy amounts of cum pour out of your slit, he brings two fingers to peel back against your sloppy folds. you’re covering him with your slick, viridescent eyes of his peer down to see the head of his cock still oozing out with gluey white masses of seed. “toji..”

“atta girl,” he whispers, hearing the little falter in your voice.

so cute,

he’s filled you up to the brim and that was only just the beginning. “i know. i kn—” and he pauses, being cut off as he feels you bedaub his sensitive tip against your greedy cunt. you move it against your opening slit, watching as it tries to swallow it hole before you pull it back outs you’re still oozing and his eyes flicker to white for a second. “fuuuck, ‘m still sensitive girl.” and he’s the one to let off a whine this time. toji’s weight still hangs against you before you drag him into a kiss while hearing his deprived whimpers feed into your mouth. jet black strands of his tickle against your forehead as he grinds his hips against you, already weak for you. the epitome of pussy drunk. whatever spell you had, he wanted to know what it was. perhaps your pussy was a curse he wasn’t aware of.

your taste was just too tasteful. with the way you linger on his tongue like a treat, he only wanted more. toji pulls away after a while, shaft still halfway into you—idle, not moving a single inch. he’s buried but remains still. a shimmery concoction of spit leaves each lips and toji pants as your lips stray away from his. toji’s lungs feel like they were on fire, each breath he takes feels like it’s being snatched away.

“you,” he exhales, a thumb curling underneath your chin. with a needy look, the ghost’s confidence throws itself out the window and his bottom lip quavers a bit. he pants, making you switch positions and he pats his lap, pouting. “you, on top of me. i- i want more of you. please.”

[emphistic]

Bf!Sukuna who sometimes calls you 'girlfriend' — and not in a flamboyant way

"Girlfriend, c'mere."

"What do you want, girlfriend?"

"Sure, girlfriend."

Bf!Sukuna who loves having your lips on his; he'll just randomly come up to you and slot his lips against yours without a word

Bf!Sukuna who walks around the house shirtless, and teases you by saying, "You should try it out," only to get a pillow thrown at his head

Bf!Sukuna who would pause his video game just for you

Bf!Sukuna who is actually super clingy, and cannot function without having you in a foot radius — but will never admit it

"I'm going to go get groceries now."

"I'll come with you," he said, immediately standing up from the couch.

"I thought you hated errands."

Sukuna shrugged, "'m bored."

Bf!Sukuna who spits in your food when you're not looking

Bf!Sukuna who, when he can't sleep, will just stare at you — a few times, you've woken up to his creepy crimson eyes staring back at you, and you socked him in the jaw

Bf!Sukuna who claims to hate your music, but whenever you two are in the car, he'll always let you handle the aux

Bf!Sukuna who purposely forgets to do your laundry so he can see you be forced to wear his clothes instead

Bf!Sukuna who is the king of keeping eye contact

Bf!Sukuna who'll hover around while you do your makeup and just ask random questions

"What does that do?"

"Why the fuck is it shaped like that?"

"It's almost as big as my dick."

Bf!Sukuna who steals your things and raises them above his head where you can't reach just to mess with you

Bf!Sukuna who never gets cold, and while that may seem like a good thing in the winter because you have a personal heat generator, it is the absolute worst during the summer — you have to ban cuddling because Sukuna is just too damn warm

Bf!Sukuna who doesn't help you bring in groceries, even if your hands are full

Bf!Sukuna who ignores you for the rest of the day if you forget to give him a good morning kiss, or good morning text (if you guys are temporarily apart)

Bf!Sukuna who is good at everything he touches

— a/n: kinda irrelevant if you ask me, but I just had to include this

Bf!Sukuna who pretends to forget if you guys have planned a date together

Bf!Sukuna who gets a hard-on when he sees your angry face; he loves having you pull on his ear and drag him away to a secluded area to hear you yell at him — he thinks you sound so sexy and look so hot

Bf!Sukuna who isn't above doing extreme pda when he sees someone staring at your ass

Bf!Sukuna who whines about going to work, claiming it's boring, but in reality: he just doesn't want to leave you — or vice versa: he doesn't want you to leave for work

Bf!Sukuna who swears up and down he doesn't want kids and hates children, but when he sees you taking care of his little brother Yuuji, he finds himself doing a mental 180°

Bf!Sukuna who goes into a trance staring at your ass

Bf!Sukuna who has no purpose for an Instagram account: you forced him to make one — he never posts on there, but when does, it's only pictures of you and occasionally him and you

Bf!Sukuna who has a drum set in your guys' shared apartment, but refuses to play it for anyone but you, and even then, he only plays to annoy you or wake you up from your nap

Bf!Sukuna who permanently quit smoking when he saw you plugging your nose near him

Bf!Sukuna who enjoys chasing you around the apartment, sometimes with a knife in hand just to make you extra scared

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk (pls lmk if u only want to be tagged in my boy nextdoor series or all of my work) @lillycore

[innerfare]

Going Down On You - Part 1 

Summary: how they go down on you

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // oral sex, shameless dirty talk, Kid is a little mean

——— 

Luffy: 

As soon as the two of you are alone, he’s pushing your legs apart. Often times, he doesn’t even take your clothes off, just pushes what he can to the side and buries his face in your pussy. He eats you out like an all you can eat buffet and comes back for multiple rounds. 

He slurps so loud- comically loud. 

“So tasty,” he’ll mutter. “I could eat this for hours.” Sometimes he does. He doesn’t stop when you cum, he stops when he’s had his fill, no matter what time it is. 

Sometimes, he’ll wake up in the middle of the night ravenous. If you’re wearing panties, he rips them off, so you’ve learned to sleep naked. Half asleep, he’ll bury his face between your legs until he’s had his fill, lapping tiredly at your folds, humming and groaning while he does it. If you try to squirm or get away, he gets super annoyed.

“Stop it,” he grumbles in that slight raspy voice of his, lips glistening with your juices. “I don’t care if you’re tired, I’m hungry.” 

What Luffy wants, Luffy gets. 

If the two of you were stranded on an island together, he probably wouldn’t even hunt for food. He’d just strip you down on the beach and pin you with his face between your legs until the two of you were rescued. At times, he even prefers eating you out to fucking you. 

Zoro: 

When he’s hungry, he won’t ask. He’ll just pry your legs apart and go to town as casually as making a cup of tea, though he does it with such fervor you think he must be an addict. 

He usually drags you on top of him and makes you sit on his face so he can lap at your folds at his leisure. He prefers to sit with his hands behind his back while he does it, as if he’s a king and you’re servicing him by letting him tongue your poor, aching cunt (you are), but if you’re being naughty, he’ll wrap those massive hands around your thighs and hold you in place. He also gets super annoyed if you squeal or squirm. 

“Quiet, woman,” he’ll tell you, furrowing his brows. “You’re distracting me.” 

He likes to spread your lips apart and take a good look at you first. He’ll bury his face in your folds and inhale as deeply as he can several times, taking his sweet time before he begins poking and prodding. He’ll mutter to himself as he does it. 

“Mmm, that’s good. Yeah, just like that. That’s a sweet pussy. So sensitive. I bet I can make it cream.” 

He’ll stop in the middle of what he’s doing to place some warm, lingering kisses on your folds before ramming his tongue back inside you. Really loves spitting in your hole and pushing it in deeper with his fingers. Will literally drool in your cunt because he enjoys seeing it spill out. 

Sanji: 

Literally so loud when he does it, makes the most over the top, dramatic noises, moaning as if you’re sucking him off. He especially loves to suck on your labia (no hate to innies but he definitely prefers outies, if you know what I mean). This man would carry a picture of your wet pussy around in his wallet if you let him. He takes the opportunity to taste you very seriously, a little too seriously. Has spent so much time perfecting his technique it’s unreal. 

He’s so sweet about it, too, and so grateful. 

“My precious babygirl, thank you so much for letting me taste this sweet pussy.” 

Such a giver he would happily give up his own pleasure for yours, but that doesn’t mean 69-ing isn’t his absolute favorite thing in the entire world. He especially likes it when he’s sitting up with his back against the headboard, your ass in the air and your face buried down in his lap (helps with the height difference, too). He’ll hold you open and massage your ass while he laps at your folds. 

Always wants to finger you in this position but can’t bring himself to do it, doesn’t want to waste a single drop of your juices; also just can’t keep his face out of your cunt long enough to manage. If hickies on your clit were possible, yours would be covered constantly. He also wants to eat his cum out of you after you two fuck.

Ace: 

All of those manners he worked so hard to learn go right out the window when he gets your panties off and his face between your legs. Is especially obsessed with the smell of you; as soon as he catches the scent, he’s on you like a beast. He wants it all over his face and hands. He wants to fall into bed and smell you on his sheets and pillows. 

“The best smell in the fucking world,” he’ll groan, dragging his nose up your slit. 

His favorite is to put you on your back and push your bottom half up so your bare cunt is high in the air, completely exposed and vulnerable for him to eat at his leisure. He’ll put his big, strong hands behind your knees and hold your legs in an impossible position while he buries his face in your juicy cunt, the knowledge it’s all his enough to make him hard. 

“Fucking delicious. And it’s all fucking mine.” 

Like his brother, he has quite the appetite, but unlike Luffy, he’s never just content to devour you. He’ll lap at your folds until you’re overstimulated, and then he’ll pull out his thick, veiny cock. He’ll shush you as he pushes it into your quivering cunt and fuck you until he’s as spent as you are, and then he’ll fuck you a little more.   

Sabo: 

Another ravenous appetite. Sabo is so messy when he eats you out. He’ll have your juices and his saliva running down his chin and smeared all over his cheeks. He’s even gotten it in his hair before. He doesn’t care, though. When he gets his face between your legs, he gets pussy drunk and completely spaces out. Time stands still, and the only thing that matters is pushing his tongue into your quivering little hole. 

It’s his favorite way to wind down after a long day, and if he’s been away on a mission, he’ll most certainly return with a new mission: to suck your soul out through your clit.  

He’s especially good with his tongue. He’ll stuff it into your hole and massage your most sensitive areas, working it in and out of you while his thumb kneads your sensitive clit. He likes to change positions a lot, putting you on your back then flipping you on all fours before dragging you down to sit on his face, and he’ll have a wicked grin on his face the entire time. The most important thing is that your fingers are tangled in his hair while he works. 

His possessive side really comes out while he’s going down on you. With Sabo, there’s no such thing as your pussy, only his pussy. He'll spit on your folds and leave hickies on your inner thighs to mark you as his.

��Nobody else gets to taste you. Not now, not ever.” 

Law: 

Most definitely uses it as a punishment. He’ll chastise you while he fingers you slowly, his lips mere inches from your leaking cunt. He’ll scold you for being so wet for him or for whining/being impatient. 

"Poor thing, you're aching for it."

When he does finally go down, he’s meticulous about it, tonguing every crevice and licking up every last drop. He’ll make you hold your own legs up and wide open so he can have easier access, and so he can busy his own hands with your breasts. 

On the occasions he does let you lower your legs, he really enjoys your fingers in his hair and your feet resting on his back. Especially likes it when you use your feet to push him away so he can wrestle with you a little; he pulls rank, too, telling you that you have to listen because he’s your captain or a doctor. 

“Y/n-ah, stay still. Doctor’s orders.” 

He’s a spanker and if you get too loud, his hand will come down on your breasts or ass until you grab a pillow to muffle your cries, never mind that the sound of him spanking you is louder than your moans. Also, he has a habit of falling into bed at 2am and waking you up with his head between your legs. 

Kid: 

Prefers to eat you out from behind. There’s no division between eating ass and eating pussy as far as this man is concerned, either. He does both or neither, and putting you on all fours or bending you over something is the easiest way for him to get what he wants. 

He’s so mean about it, too. “Poor little thing. You can’t function properly until you’ve been tongue fucked by your man, can you?” 

He’ll chew your nipples raw and snap at you to stop whining about it, you brat. He’ll pull back to spit directly onto your folds, doing it quite loudly because he knows it embarrasses you and makes your hole clench, you adorable fuck bunny. He’ll flick your clit and laugh when you squeal, and he’ll make fun of you when you cum, you needy slut. If you cream or squirt, you’ll never live it down, you pathetic whore. He’ll hold it over your head, but don’t take that to mean he doesn’t like it- he’s obsessed with your cream. 

He’ll spank you, but he prefers to bite. Your ass will be covered in bite marks and hickeys before he ever plunges his tongue into one of your holes. He’s feral when he does, growling and grunting the entire time. And when he’s finished, he’ll place a few sweet kisses on your cunt and ass, give you a light spank, and tell you to get yourself cleaned up. Unless, of course, he wants to fuck you after, in which case you’re in for a long night. If he eats his cum out of you, he'll most definitely be fucking another load into you.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[forgwater]

"Ah, yes. Me, my beloved Prefect and my lookalike tsum from another dimension."

Twst Boys and their reactions to you cuddling their tsum instead of them Headcanons

part 1 part 2 part 3

Riddle Rosehearts

He's baffled.

There has to be a rule about this somewhere!

Yes. The Headmage said he must look after the tsum until it can get back to where it came from and he will, but this is too much.

Does this creature have no manners?!

It must know the two of you are dating. It might even have its own version of you waiting for him to return!

And yet.

Here it is, hogging all your attention as you hold it close to yourself.

You're not even facing him!

And no. He is not crossing his arms and pouting.

Cater Diamond

He thought the tsum was pretty nice at first.

He's been forced to reconsider.

Cater would love to take a picture of you with his tsum. For his eyes only so don't you worry~

You must look so cute snuggled with the plush!

And it looks like him!

It really would be adorable!

If only you weren't facing away from him, your face presumably buried in the soft tummy of his lookalike.

.......

This is not fair. You should be cuddling him! He's your boyfriend! Not that overgrown bean.

He secretly hopes the tsum falls off the bed in the middle of the night.

Leona Kingscholar

What do you mean you prefer that stupid plush??? He's right here!

Very much not happy. No matter how cute you look with his tsum in your arms.

He tries to pull the tsum out of your arms.

Tsum Leona is not letting go.

They lock eyes.

You're pretty sure they're glaring at each other.

.....

Fine. He'll let the tsum have this. He's not gonna risk an accident just because that bean is unwilling to let you go.

You're gonna have his tail on you tho.

Jack Howl

Why are you hugging his tsum like that?

Why is his tsum looking like a puppy getting affection?

He's getting second hand embarrassment.

It's not because he would like to be held like that by you. It's because....

Uh. Because...

I mean! He's a wolf! His tsum is a wolf! It should be a little more... dignified.

He's not needy like that!

And he didn't agree to this. The tsum has not business being in his space like this. Cuddling with his s/o....

He keeps looking over to you and his tsum. He's snatching that bean out of your arms at first light. They're gonna go for a run.

Floyd Leech

So this could go one of two ways:

Either he's annoyed and tries to snatch the offending plush from you, which will end up in a fight between the two.

Or

He thinks it's hilarious and that you look cute like that.

He still wants his cuddles tho.

What's Floyd to do in this situation?

He just plops himself over you and the tsum. He's letting all of his weight crush you.

Lucky(?) for you it's only his torso crushing you.

Good luck.

Epel Felmier

He's finally allowed to have a sleepover and this happens!

You've got to be kidding him.

Please tell him this is a joke. He's glaring daggers at the tsum.

I mean.... He's a strong and independent man! He doesn't need those cuddles.

Yes. Yes he does.

He's fine!

He keeps glaring at the happy tsum in your arms.

It's mocking him.

There's no way it's not.

He tries to snatch it out of your arms, but makes the mistake of going for the head.

He gets bitten by his tsum.

Sebek Zigvolt

First Malleus-sama, now this!

This creature must be taught respect!

HOW DARE IT JUMP INTO YOUR ARMS SO SHAMELESSLY!!!!

WHO DOES IT THINK IT IS?!

A KNIGHT TO MALLEUS SHOULD NOT BEHAVE THIS WAY!

UNBELIEVABLE!

Sebek gets into a one-sided screaming match with his tsum.

By the end of it he's almost in tears. How dare this glorified plush bean steal your affections away from him!

Tsum Sebek ignores all of this. It is far too preoccupied with enjoying your pets and hugs.

You attempt to console Sebek by promising it's only for tonight.

He does not look consoled.

[adimilkys]

Sylus NSFW alphabet

(MDNI, 18+, Sylus x fem!reader)

a - aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Sylus may be rough during sex, but he’s a sweetheart after. Taking care of you, getting a bath ready. If your muscles are too sore he’ll massage your body, making sure you feel as comfortable as possible. He’ll cuddle you up, never leaving you alone to feel like a toy.

He makes sure to always ask if you’re alright, your comfort is the most important part for him.

“Did I go too rough, sweetie?”

“Do you want me to be more gentle, kitten?”

you always tell him no, you love it how rough he is but he always makes sure to ask.

b - body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also theirs partners)

He doesn’t really have a favorite body part of his, but his favorite your body part? Everything. He loves your body equally.

But, if you told him to pick one, he’ll say your face. He loves your expressions, the way you pout when you beg him for something, or during sex- the way your mouth hangs open, heavenly sounds leaving it. Your teary eyes, staring up at him- making him even more feral for you. The way your cheeks are flushed with red, tears streaming down them from the pleasure. God, he could cum just from looking at your face.

c - cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum doesn’t really have a taste, it’s neutral and maybe a tad bit salty. He makes sure to eat fruits so you won’t be disgusted with it while his cock is down your throat.

d - dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a lot, like a lot of your pictures on his phone. After you’re done fucking, and you’re still coming back from your high, he takes a picture of your fucked out face. Of your body that is covered in his marks.

When he’s not home, maybe on a mission. He uses Mephisto to spy on you, when you’re out of the shower, all naked and water dripping down your body. He just loves watching you when you’re oblivious.

e - experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Sylus has never been in a romantic relationship but he did have some flings, yet none of them satisfied him as much as you did.

f - favorite position (this goes without saying)

He has two favorite positions, one of them being fucking you against a wall, more preferably- in the shower. When you can’t do anything but just hold onto him as you’re pressed against the shower wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he rearranges your guts, his head resting on your shoulder, sneaking in a few bites and hickeys.

As for the second one, it’s reverse cowgirl, and it has to be in front of a mirror. So you can look at yourself while he pounds into your pussy. The way your breasts bounce, your ass slaps against his thighs and of course, the perfect view of your face in the mirror. Whenever you try looking away he grabs your face and makes sure it stays straight, looking in the mirror. (Also, he loves it when your eyes meet his in the reflection)

g - goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? Etc.)

I think he’s more serious, but he also sneaks in a few teasing jokes in to make you annoyed.

h - hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? Etc.)

He takes care of his body, making sure he’s always well groomed. He doesn’t have a bush, but does have hair down there. He knows how much you love it when he’s fucking you and his pubic hair tickled your clit.

i - intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

He may treat you rough and degrade you in bed, but you know that he loves you. And he makes sure to show it the most when he’s close, and if you even dare to doubt it he shows how much he loves you while fucking you vanilla, when he’s gentle whispering nothing but praises and compliments.

j - jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When you’re away from each other, and he misses you a bit too much- and you’re not available to call he pulls out your pictures and videos (from his dirty secret) and that’s enough to make him cum.

When you’re available to call him tho, it leads to phone sex, hearing your pretty little moans as you finger yourself while he’s stroking his cock, imagining it as your hand.

k - kink (one or more of their kinks)

Oh how he loves punishing you, your pretty ass on his lap while spanks it, making you count, while his other hand is playing with your pussy- and if you lose count he starts all over again.

bondage and blindfold sex, of course not on him (if you try, after a few minutes of teasing him he rips his arms free and destroys you) but on you? Your hands tied up, same with your legs, not able to move while he overstimulates your body. Adding the blindfold to that, making things even more spicier as you never know what his next move will be.

Degradation, he loves calling you a slut for him in bed, knowing it turns you on too. But he knows to never go overboard, again- you being comfortable is his top priority.

l - location (favorite places to do the do)

Shower and bedroom anddd his office

Bending you over his desk in his office, or fucking you on the couch.

Against the shower wall.

But nothing will beat his bedroom, where you can be the most comfortable. No one daring to disturb you both, you can be as loud as you want and after- you can cuddle in his bed without having to move places.

m - motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you’re being a brat, just begging to be punished and ruined.

When you’re angry, you’re yelling at him on how he needs to be more careful or whatever- he’s hard.

Or when you’re both at an event, an auction or just a party, wearing those skimpy dresses. He just can’t wait to rip them off you.

n - no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sharing you, Sylus is possessive. When a man dares to touch you or even flirt with you he’s dead meat, even when you’re giving a bit too much attention to Lucas and Kieran his jealousy strikes (even though he’ll never admit to being jealous). He will never let another man or woman see what he sees.

Pain play, sure he loves spanking you but he will never and I mean if, NEVER hurt you in bed even if you consent for it. Slapping your face? Knife play? no.

non-con, you know about the pictures he takes of you (you’ve caught him in the act and just saw his gallery) and you don’t mind it as you have his pictures as well, but if you’re drunk (even if you beg him) not in the mood or asleep he won’t dare to touch you. He needs your sober and aware consent.

o - oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves eating your pussy, it’s his favorite meal- he could spend the entire night just making you cum from his mouth.

He was never a fan of giving, during his flings he just fucked and nothing more. Until he met you and tried it out- he immediately fell in love and became obsessed.

As for receiving, he loves seeing your mouth full of his dick, not able to fit it all in. Watching your mouth full of his cum before swallowing it. (Tho if you don’t feel comfortable / don’t like it he won’t force you nor even ask for it).

p - pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

Sylus is rough, very rough in bed. Pounding into you so hard that you can’t even remember your own name, the only thing leaving your lips are moans of his name, not even able to speak- so fucked out.

His cock torturing your sweet spot and cervix, pulling out orgasm after orgasm out of you.

Thought, if you needed to be held and comforted but still railed- he’ll be slow and sensual but giving you the pleasure that you need, making sure for give you the comfort that you need while making you cum.

q - quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He prefers to take his sweet time with you, making you cum on his tongue a few times, or on his fingers and then his cock.

If you’re both needy, and don’t have a lot of time- he’ll pull you into the bathroom of the place you’re in and fuck you without wasting any time, leaving both of you satisfied for the rest of meeting etc. (Not really, you both want more).

r - risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc.)

He prefers for your fun to be in the private, where he can hear your loud moans instead of you having to be quiet, not to mention his possessive side- if you get caught the person won’t be even able to realize what’s happening before they’re dead, oops.

s - stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Sylus has an INSANE amount of stamina, he can fuck you all day and he won’t be even tired (he probably would do it but you would pass out about 20 times).

He’s the one that does most of the work, when you’re riding him and get tired (he isn’t surprised, he knows how hard it is for you to bounce on his huge cock) he just grabs your hips and starts bouncing you up and down while you scratch his chest, trying to keep balance.

On average, you go for about five rounds, when both of you are tired probably just one. But when he’s frustrated? Good luck because you ain’t surviving.

He can make you cum about two or even three times just on his cock before coming himself.

t - toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He bought a vibrator just for you, he mostly uses it when you’re in a meeting so he can play with you while you struggle to be quiet.

u - unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sylus is like the king of teasing, he can torture you for hours. Can you blame him tho? He just loves seeing you beg for him.

If you’re the one that tries to tease him, it won’t end good for you('r pussy).

v - volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not very vocal, he’ll mostly groan but it’s almost impossible to hear him let out an actual moan (the time you did hear him moan he was so embarrassed he just bit your shoulder to not make anymore noises)

If you want to hear him more than usual tho, you have to go for the neck.

w - wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He doesn’t know it, and disagrees with the idea of having a breeding kink. Knowing damn well he’s trying to pump a kid into you every single night.

Another thing is, he’s not disgusted by period sex. Especially when you’re cramps are bad and he knows giving you an orgasm will help (he read it on the internet).

x - x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He has a huge dick, about 9 inches that hits all the right spots inside of you.

It’s also thick, like really thick. The first time you both had sex he couldn’t even fit and had to size train you for a few days.

It hurt at first, but as you got used to it, the feeling was amazing. He may have been gifted with a big dick, but he also knows how to use it.

y - yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

If he could, he would spend every single hour of the day fucking you. He’s needy and horny all the time but also busy, which means he can’t fulfill his fantasies every time.

z - zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sylus is a night owl, he doesn’t sleep a lot. After your session, even if you have fallen asleep he’ll clean you up, change the sheets and tuck you in. Maybe he’ll read a book afterwards if he’s not that tired (while holding you) or just cuddle you up and fall asleep.

requests are open, feel free to send some

[vngelicc]

LOVIN’ YOU ౨ৎ ‧₊˚

TAGS — unprotected sex, nasty sex, late valentines gift, rough sex, romantic(?), daddy kink, dirty talk, breeding kink, possessive!jk, baby no. 2 might have been made here, spoiler: it was, jk is meannnnn, heavy dom-sub vibes, edging, fingering, oc loves being degraded for being a whore for jk, it gets super soft, love making, oc is a bratty sub in this one, heavy degradation, slut shaming(?), oc wants to CUCK jk as a joke but he gets his lick back on her lmao, PET NAMESSS, this is a spin-off from the main series of flawless!

WORD COUNT — 3.5 k

“Happy anniversary love.” Jungkook sleepily mumbles as he passes by. He leans over to land a kiss on your forehead, his hand slips from the back of your waist and over your hip settling with a gentle squeeze.

You tilt your head and rest it against his bicep while brushing your teeth. We look good, you think while admiring Jungkook’s bare form. He had decided to forgo a sleeping shirt last night and chose only his slutty silk pajamas you had both bought together on a whim. You were wrapped up in a baby pink robe with a pretty little night slip underneath.

“Is Jae awake,” you softly ask while admiring your appearance in the luxurious mirror. Jungkook says something but you’re busy rinsing your mouth out so you don’t catch it, and by the time you come back up he’s brushing his own teeth with a silly little smile on his face.

“What?” You purse your lips, “What’s so funny?” He shakes his head and spits out the paste from his mouth leaving you a bit annoyed at your husband’s antics. “Hmph.”

You lay your head back on his bicep again and lift your phone up to snap a picture of the two of you. “Say cheese,” you softly giggle while zooming in on his face, bursting out into laughter as Jungkook gives you a foamy smile.

You peep the way your diamond ring and wedding band glistens under the sunlight pouring in through the open french doors, Jungkook’s own wedding band shining just as bright too. You wrap your ringed hand around him and snap a few more pictures for later. “Jungkook–you’re making a mess.” You sigh as water droplets hit your thighs from his little mouth rinsing session.

“Sorry.” Jungkook wipes his face down with a towel and nods in approval at something, “All the little old French ladies are gonna be all over me, aren’t you worried someone’s gonna take me away sweetheart?” He tenderly cups your cheeks and squeezes.

This certainly has your brow raising in question, “Aren’t you worried a French man is going to take me away? What if he whisks me off to the Eiffel Tower and proposes to me? Hm?” You play at his game, watching in satisfaction as a twinge of possessiveness and jealousy spark in his dark onyx eyes.

“Take you? Baby over my dead body,” he tugs you in and holds you against him, “wish a motherfucker would..” He grunts under his breath, the tone sends a delicious little shiver down your spine. You swear you have a second heartbeat right now, you just loved when he got like this.

His big greedy hands grab handfuls of your ass through the flimsy little thong you were wearing under your night slip. A tiny gasp slips from your lips as he abruptly smacks both cheeks making you jump just a little. “Bet you don’t like that huh?” You softly smirk. Jungkook grumbles like you already know the answer to that.

He leans down to leave a flurry of kisses all over your neck and shoulder, irritably growling when your robe gets in the way as he tugs the entire thing off. “Just the fuckin’ thought of someone putting their hands on you pisses me off sweetheart—not everyone should have the luxury of being blessed with your soft little cunt and perky ass.” He whispers darkly in your ear.

“You like that? Like hearing how much I love this slutty body? It makes me never wanna let you leave those sheets darling, especially with how good you looked for me on the bed last night.” Jungkook wraps his lips around a hickey he left last night, immediately he starts sucking on it with the intention of making it darker.

You mewl softly at his words and bite your lip, “You know I don’t want anyone else,” you flutter your lashes coyly, “ ‘s the only cock I’ll ever need daddy, no one can fuck me like you do,” you lean up to whisper low and sultry in his ear, “so show them who I belong to.”

Jungkook groans at your seductive tone and hauls you up by the back of your thighs, “Ain’t I just the luckiest bastard sweetheart? What’d I do to deserve such a pretty little thing like you?” He muses while untying the bow holding your robe together.

Your robe falls apart, unveiling your tits as if they were a piece of artwork for Jungkook’s hungry eyes to feast on. He licks his lips darkly, eyes briefly flickering up to stare into your own. “Please daddy.” You softly say while spreading your legs wider, hooking your ankles together behind his strong muscular back, tugging him closer to you.

“Why should I? Thought your little french boy’s can do it better than me?” He huskily whispers, hot breath hovering over your pebbled nipple, “Will he fuck you the way I do? Have you screaming and shaking? More importantly sweetheart,” he whispers low, “will he be able to satisfy you the way I can?” He engulfs your nipple in his mouth.

You bite your lip and lean your head back while running your fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, will he?” You breathily whisper, breath hitched when Jungkook uses a hint of teeth on your sore teat. “Maybe he can, I’ll even put on a show for you daddy—so you can see how pretty I look taking someone else’s cock.”

Jungkook’s grip tightens to the point that the pressure has you squirming, “What’s the matter daddy? Thought you wanted to see how pretty I look hanging off a cock.”

“Fuckin’ minx,” he growls pulling away from your wet nipple, “that what you want? You gonna let your daddy watch someone else stuff their dick into that whore-ish cunt of yours? Is that it sweetheart? Baby wants to be a whore?” He lands a punishing smack against your ass cheek, causing it to echo loudly in the otherwise quiet bathroom.

You arch your back and whine, “For you,” you mewl softly, “only you daddy.” You finally gave in because the tension was rising and it was proving too much to handle. Jungkook didn’t give a fuck, he could play it that game—far worse too.

“Now it’s only me huh? Where’d my little whore go hm? The one who wanted to put on a show for her daddy?” He cups your chin and squeezes your cheeks together, “Hm?”

You whine again but he doesn’t let up on your suffering, “Not so bold now, huh sweetheart? Cat got your tongue baby?” He leans in, mocking your little whines in his own husky voice which immediately has you slicking up. “Why the pout?” He smirks like he isn’t the one responsible for this sweet torture.

“Because..”

“Because,” he mocks with a pout while squeezing your chin and such, waiting for a coherent answer. “Haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re a mess.”

You bite your lip at his mean tone and arch into his touch, desperately wiggling and bucking your hips just to feel— you’ll take anything at this point. Jungkook stops you with his hand and holds you still, “Look at you, humping me like a little bitch in heat.” He cruelly chuckles.

“Jungkook,” you softly sob, they’re not real tears anyways but still it’s not fair that he’s not giving you the fucking you deserve. At least a good dick sucking session would suffice but you can’t even have that. ;(

“Say it,” he reaches down to cup you through your thong, “say you’re mine sweet girl,” he purrs.

Your lips part in a small ‘o’ as his fingers breach your soaked thong, he dips them in teasingly with his fingertips brushing against your poor clit. “ ‘m yours, only yours.” You whimper softly, “Please..? Want your fingers daddy,” you wiggle around again.

Your devious husband doesn’t even warn you before he’s plunging his fingers into your sopping cunt. A breathless cry escapes and you toss your head back from the sudden burst of hot pleasure in your loins, “Mm..!”

Jungkook doesn’t even let you compose yourself before he’s curling his ring and index finger up to brush against your g-spot. He has no problem really, he knows your little cunt like the back of his hand, he’ll have you dripping in no time. “Like this? Or like this?” He suddenly stops and shifts away from your sensitive spot.

While it felt heavenly, nothing compared to Jungkook finger-fucking you into oblivion while hitting your g-spot over and over again. You find yourself panting hotly while scrambling to get a grip on his arm, “Yes..! Like that, please,” you softly cry out. You desperately roll your hips up, your pussy greedily swallowing up every inch of those thick fingers of his.

“That feel good?” He coos while tilting your face with his free hand, “Look at me sweetheart, I wanna watch you fall apart on my fingers for me like a good girl.”

You whimper when he says “good girl” it has your stomach fluttering all over again as you arch into his touch. He switches up his pace and fucks his fingers in deeper and deeper until he’s knuckle-deep inside that sopping cunt. Endless copious amounts of slick dribble down your pussy to your ass, making a real mess on that white marble counter..

“J-Jungkook..!” You breath out while digging your nails into his wrist, the pleasure was beginning to rise higher and higher, only making that little knot in your stomach tighten with each stroke.

Your husband doesn’t seem to mind you falling apart like that, in fact he speeds his pace up and rapidly fucks his fingers into your cunt. You’re literally letting out dribbles of squirt each time he fucks them back in, the pressure in your lower belly and the air around you turns hot. You find yourself shaking under his rough ministrations.

“C-Coming,” you gasp loudly, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of you.

Right as your pussy reaches that sweet abyss, Jungkook suddenly yanks his fingers out leaving your pussy gaping around nothing. You sob in frustration and let your head hit the mirror with a dull thud, “ ‘s not fair!”

Jungkook wipes his digits over your pussy before holding them up to your lips, “Suck.” He leaves no room for argument as you obediently take his fingers into your mouth and lick them clean. He watches with a dark expression, “Good girl, that’s enough. Next time you wanna play like that make sure you can handle the heat sweetheart. Cute.” He smirks evilly as he pats your cheek and heads out of the bathroom.

You bite back a groan of frustration, the edging is so going to be worth it in the long run though.. You lick your lips and hop off the counter on shaky legs, your orgasm may have been ruined but you still had a few things in your head that you wanted to try out on your dear husband.

+

“What’s wrong my love?” Jungkook asks from behind you as he gently massages your aching feet, “Is it the heels? You should’ve taken my shoes baby.” He softly mumbles.

It was nighttime by now and after a whole day of shopping and sight-seeing you were honestly ready to just hit the hay. Everytime he applied pressure on your sore tired feet, you couldn’t help the pained moan you’d let out. You were currently lying face down on the bed with your feet kicked back on Jungkook’s lap, just enjoying that foot rub.

“I’m okay, I was having too much fun to notice.” You softly reply while tilting your head to look back at him, “.. Jungkookie, I kind of had something on my mind—well it’s been in there for a good while now.” You softly admit.

“Okay,” he softly replies, ready and attentive.

You fully turn around and crawl over to sit on his lap, “What if we have another baby?” You toy with his necklace and pout, “It’s just that… Jae’s getting older and the house feels a little lonely now that he hangs out with friends and stuff..”

“So my sweetheart wants a baby?” He says with a soft look in his eye.

You timidly nod and wrap your arms around his neck, “Think about it, another mini-us running around the house like Jae used to,” you chuckle, “you remember when he was a devious devil…always getting into your office even though I told him not to,” you say fondly.

He chuckles endearingly, “Of course I remember baby, those were the best years of my life—raising him and coming home to you.”

“Soooo, that’s why I think it’d be a great idea to have another baby!” You giggle happily while smooching over his lips, “Cos you’re not gettin’ any younger, old man.” You stick your tongue out teasingly.

Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “You’ve been hanging out with Jae too much, but no, unfortunately you’re stuck with this old man.” He snorts despite not really being THAT old like his own son made him out to be.

“You’re MY old man though,” you kiss his nose gently, “and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You cheekily grin.

He brings you in for a tender kiss, laying gentle pecks over your lips until you’re whining for him to stop. “I love you sweetheart.” He murmurs softly while stroking your hair, “I’m glad you decided to stick around, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I mean, did I really have a CHOICE?” You roll your eyes with a smile, “I’m kidding love, you know I would do it all over again for you. Nothing in the world could ever change that.” You softly say and bring him closer.

Jungkook doesn’t protest when your lips meet, he wraps his arms around your back as his eyes slip shut. The kiss itself feels magical and you can’t help but wrap your arms tighter around him in a loving embrace. You break from the kiss to catch your breath, there’s a small string of saliva that connects your lips.

“C’mere.” Jungkook mumbles and brings you back in for another sweet kiss. He slowly falls back onto the bed and brings you with him, never parting from the messy spit-slick kiss.

You and Jungkook don’t last long just kissing because you find yourself tugging on his clothes and helping him strip vice-versa. The two of you find yourselves under the warm silky sheets, and a rose-scented aroma that fills the entire room after Jungkook decides to light the candle on a whim.

The sheer intimacy of it all, you’re not in a rush this time—this time is something meaningful. You can’t really find it in yourself to come out of that little romantic bubble right now, everything just wants to make you cry. It literally makes your heart hurt over how sweet and loving Jungkook is…what did you do to deserve him?

“Hi.” You softly say when Jungkook and you come face to face after kissing for what seemed like hours.

“Hi beautiful.” He nuzzles your nose gently and presses his forehead against yours.

You blush shyly and look away, “Yah, just shut up and give me my baby already.. All that talk and no action,” you giggle, “pussy isn’t gonna breed itself.” Jungkook’s mouth drops open at what you say and it sends you reeling into explosive laughter.

“Where did my sweetheart go huh? ‘S like a little devil just popped in to say hi,” he recovers from the initial shock with a low chuckle, “you’re gonna send me to an early grave.” He groans.

You lean down to whisper in his ear, “C’mon, I know you wanna fuck me till I catch—till I’m full and round with our baby again.” You purr cupping his jawline, “Turns you on doesn’t it? Knowing damn well that’s your baby you put in me.”

He swallows harshly and nods, “Love it sweetheart, I’ll die a happy man knowing that I got to put my kids in you before any other bastard could.” He growls.

“Then get to it,” you softly coo, “or I’ll find someone else to do the job for you.”

That turns him on like a switch, he flips the two of you over and pins your arms above your head with a dark look. “Yeah? Guess I gotta show you what you’d be missing then baby,” he takes a hold of his cock and slaps the wet tip over your pussy, “gonna make sure you’re filled by the end of the night.”

You moan softly at his words and spread your legs wider, “I want it—every last drop of it daddy, want you to breed me.” You pout softly while pursing your lips for a kiss.

He kisses you like a princess but fucks you like a whore, which is what you LOVED about him. You reach down to stroke his hard cock, running your thumb over the leaky tip and over every vein on his shaft. He looks like he’s in bliss as he bites his bottom lip and watches you with hooded eyes.

“Want it in me,” you softly say while rubbing his cock through your soft squishy folds, “can I please?”

“Fuck—anything you want babydoll.”

You give him the most precious smile ever and then push his cock towards your greedy hole. You easily take the head with ease as it pops in slowly. The two of you hiss low at the pressure as Jungkook slips inch after inch into your pussy.

“More, please,” you breathlessly sigh while laying your head back on the soft pillow.

Jungkook doesn’t even think he has the strength to say no to begin with. He holds himself up over you while slowly bumping his hips into yours. His cock is utterly drenched with your slick, the slide is messy and loud whenever he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he hisses and drops down to his elbows as he cages you in, “you feel so fucking good sweetheart.”

His balls are pressed snug, showing you that he really is taking this breeding thing seriously—more than ever now because you both have a mutual goal in mind. “It’s okay daddy,” you softly say, “I can take it.”

Jungkook pauses to look at you, damn near cursing when he sees that expression you got on your face. He hooks your thighs over his arms and folds you into a mating press with your hips tilted up, “There you go sweetheart, jus’ relax ‘n take it for me sweetheart.”

He whispers more praises under his breath while rocking into you gently. His pace doesn’t seem to stay the same because gradually he begins speeding up. Much like yesterday he really lets hell rain on your poor cunt.

You whimper and cry out while holding on with your toes curled from the pleasure. He doesn’t even bother with teasing or anything because he hits that sweet spot inside of you relentlessly. Each time he drives his cock in there’s a lewd wet smack, and the noises only get louder from there.

“T-There..! Don’t stop, please,” you whimper and grit your teeth, “feels so good..”

Jungkook huffs quietly and leans down to kiss over your bruised neck, “Yeah baby? You gonna let me fill that pussy up till you’re dripping? Gonna let me use it till I’m done?”

“Yes!” You gasp, “Anything for you,”

“For me?” He coos as he cups your chin and tilts your face to him, “Cute.” He smirks softly and continues fucking into you relentlessly.

The smacking sounds get louder and the bed creaks from force. You quite literally are seeing stars as he rocks your entire world, you can’t even form a coherent sentence let alone see through your starry vision.

“Jungkook..!” You whimper through your moans, “ ‘m gonna cum, please,” you sob as the tension begins rising, “can I, please daddy?” You whine out while gritting your teeth.

He stops to let your legs fall from his grip as he changes the pace and grabs onto your soft hips. He uses it as leverage to fuck into your cunt with repeated wet smacks. “Go on,” he grunts, “cum for me.” He spits between the two of you, right where your pussy opens up beautifully for him as he slides his thumb over your slippery clit.

Your mouth falls open when he rubs side to side in tandem with his thrusts. Your back arches and the air gets knocked out of you as you cum with intense waves of pleasure. “Jungkook,” you mewl desperately while pawing at him.

He doesn’t stop rubbing your clit until you go silent and your weak hands push at his wrist again. He growls low and rubs the sensitive bud faster until you’re drenching his lap and the sheets slick. His eyes briefly flicker up to see that you’re in bliss right now.

You feel the telltale signs of his orgasm as his cock throbs painfully inside of you. It only takes a few more pumps until Jungkook’s pressing his hips tight against you and milking every drop of his cum. His ragged moans and breathing have you getting wet all over again.

“Mm..” You tiredly let your hands flop on the bed, “I’m so sleepy..” You softly say.

Jungkook quietly grunts, “Just rest, I got you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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