💔 bestfriend!jungkook finds out you’re dating taehyung 💔

part 1 // part 2 (you’re here!) // part 3 // part 4 [final] // part 4.5 [alt ending]

This post is a continuation of a previous request! Request here!


6x20 - “Revenge is Gonna Be Mine” (Alt. Ending)

updated masterlist (as of 10.31.17)

okay guys so here’s a new version bc for some reason I can’t edit the OG version sorry!! 

As always, please ask before translating/posting my work anywhere!!

*’s = smut, if you find smut that isn’t marked let me know!

! = my favorites

strikethroughs = things I plan to write, or are queued up to be posted! (feel free to ask about these ones)

Everything should be linked, there is no specific order that the characters/celebrities are listed in!  HMU with your questions! (Please let me know if you notice any writing missing from the list).

Requests are open still, by the way!! Please keep my inbox from going dry!

Much love, Tori xx

Originally posted by zendaya-daily

Keep reading


💔 bestfriend!jungkook finds out you’re dating taehyung 💔

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 [final] // part 4.5 [alt ending] (you’re here!!)

This post was only made possible by the dozen of requests for an alternative ending (with JK finally getting the girl!) For more, request here!

Lumberjack Fantasies Alt. End 1 "Embrace"

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3      

            You meet up with your fellow frat members and discover that they’ve all experienced much the same treatment Hunter gave you. At least one of them, a stout little football player, is nearly spherical with his unborn lumberjack child still, but everyone else seems normal. A little shaken, a little unnerved or disturbed but in good condition otherwise. The general consensus seems to be “let us never speak of this thing again.”

            But as a send off, the raucous group of jacks has prepared a banquet with all the food you could ever want and an all-you-can-drink smorgasbord of alcoholic beverages. And like Hunter’s wine, it’s all handcrafted right there in the woods. Part of you worries that you’re all about to get fucked and impregnated again, once the jacks have got you nicely boozed up. But they don’t. It’s just a happy celebration of life. A mass birthday party if you will.

            As Hunter said earlier, his fellow jacks shower him with praises for the simple fact that Chase grew to be bigger than his father. He wasn’t kidding; the other lumberjacks act like they’re seeing him in a whole new light. He makes sure you receive ample credit as well.

            That last pregnant frat member gives birth, right there in the clearing, in the arms of the gigantic lumberjack who knocked him up. You’re too drunk to pay attention to the details, but by the time the “adult” lumberjacks send the newest additions into the woods to start their own lives, that last little boy has already grown to be the size of your average teen. The hours pass you by quickly and the moon is high above the clearing when Hunter and a couple of the other jacks gather up you and your frat bros and lead you away.

            You’re back at your campsite before you know it. You wonder if you didn’t fall asleep at some point and were carried. There’s double the amount of frat brothers than jacks, but if they’re all as strong as Hunter…

            Your tent is exactly as you left it, and it’s not the only tent still erect. Even the other frat brother’s tents are still standing, untouched.

            And so is yours.

            Hunter makes an effort to cover his, smiling sheepishly under the moon. “So. Guess this is goodbye?”

            You hold a hand out to shake. You don’t resist when he pulls you in and squishes you in his slender arms, because you were expecting it. He hugs you for a few seconds, grunting happily and lifting you up. Your back cracks and that feels ok. He makes no effort to stop himself from grinding against you as he sets you back on your feet.

            He’s just a little guy. Full of love and happiness and life. So full, you consider, that it all sometimes overflows and bursts out of him in the form of his burly, hairy alter-ego.

            After the bonfire and the celebration of the new jacks, you and the rest of the frat are all in no condition to drive, though some of them attempt it anyway and you’ll worry about their safety in the morning. You elect to stay in your little tent.

            And biting your lip in slight apprehension, you hold the flap open for him to join you.

            With a tiny high-pitched yelp like an excited puppy, Hunter scrambles in after you, tackling you on your thick sleeping bag. You wrestle out of his grip and turn to him. “Just for tonight, ok? Cuz, uh. I’m just, y’know, gonna sleep this off and go home in the morning.”

            “Sure!” Hunter looks around your tent. “Uh. Where do I sleep?”

            You both look at your sleeping bag. It’s a big, expensive, weighted model made for survival, with a built-in pillow, soft woolen insulation and a heat-encasing insulation.

            Hunter smirks at you.

            You sigh and unzip it and toss your shirt and jeans in the corner of the tent. It’s gonna be warm in that bag even if all you do is share it with him.

            You’d never do this with another dude. Not a friend, not a best friend, not a frat brother… unless, like the alternative was freezing to death. Maybe then.

            So… maybe Hunter’s special. Or maybe it’s like he said, maybe his presence is just slightly irresistible.

            He slides in next to you. His skin is so soft and smooth. You almost, if you close your eyes, can imagine you’re cuddled up next to a nice little sorority girl. With no boobs. And a bit more muscle than usual.

            And who smells slightly of pine and cedar and campfire and maple and sweat and the tiniest hint of musky cum.

            The bag’s nice and snug around you both, and you’re too tired and boozy to stay awake very long. Before you fall asleep, you vaguely register the sensation of one of Hunter’s strong hands gently sliding up your ribcage and rubbing your abdomen.

            That’s definitely one of his fingers slipping inside your bellybutton and rolling around.


            You blink awake in the early morning before the sun rises. You’re on your side, and Hunter must have decided to spoon you because you can feel both of his arms wrapped around your body. He may still be sleeping but you can hear a few soft grunts under his breath, and intermittently he squeezes you slightly, like he doesn’t want you to go.

            His breath smells like syrup and juicy spit-roasted meat, and woodsy booze.

            He nuzzles the back of your neck and head. He takes a breath with his nose in your hair. He’s definitely awake. But maybe he doesn’t know… you’re awake?

            So you’ll pretend to be asleep. And maybe he’ll climb out, and leave, and you won’t have to face him once more, won’t have to say good-bye, because you’re just not sure if you can do that. He’s so nice, and he likes you so much and he makes you feel so loved and wanted and why would you want to go back to fucking college where you’ve got to do WORK all the time??

            Useless, worthless bullshit! Calculus! Microbiology! Nothing that will help you in your life. Requirements to pass, but utterly meaningless to you beyond that.

            Nothing that Hunter needs to know in his life either… he doesn’t think about mitochondria when he’s carving furniture. Doesn’t think about 17th century philosophers when he’s building and working. No equations. No proofs. No chemistry.

            Just tough, rugged, manly work and the glory of thriving alongside nature itself.

            He must feel your tension, because he moans in sympathy and his hands roam your chest and belly and he mumbles “havin’ a bad dream.”

            And you realize he’s naked. Because… his dick slides up your back as he squeezes you close. “…wanna breed you again…” he whispers, so quiet you almost aren’t even sure that’s what he said.

            But you know that’s probably what he said.

            “Don’t get horny,” Hunter whispers to himself. “C’mon. Don’t get horny. Don’t get horny. Don’t transform. Don’t get big. Don’t get horny. Don’t get big. Don’t grow… ohh…” he moans, pained, and clenches up around you.

            You wince. You know what’s coming.

            Him. The big. The beefy. The beastly.

            The bulging and the blooming and the bloating…

            “Rrrrr,” Hunter growls in his throat. You feel his frustrated growl vibrate from his belly, against your back. “I… can’t…”

            You feel his arms grow bigger around you. You feel his biceps on yours, puffing up with power. His flat boyish chest bulges forth with beefy pecs. His increasing musculature grows around you, encasing you.

            “N–… nooo…” Hunter whines. “I didn’t…”

            And you pretend to be asleep.

            Because what’s the point? He’s got you now. You can’t get away! Even if you tried. You’re already in his clutches. You’re feeling his pecs pushing you forward into his arms, which are pulling you back, compressing you in a tight cocoon of muscles.

            Maybe this is what he intended.

            “No… nooo… not while he’s asleep, c’mon!” Hunter berates himself, grunting and grumbling against his own growth. His face is next to yours. You can feel his smooth skin becoming bristly against your cheek, neck and shoulders. His beard comes in thick and gets thicker.

            Just like the rest of him. His slippery shaft slathering slime on your spine is swelling to the size of your spine.

            You shift and whimper as you pretend to wake up, feeling that broad blunt tip dragging down your back to your waistband. “… wha…”

            “I’m sorry. Little. Buddy.” Hunter growls at himself. Feeling him transform around you is the most terrifying yet awe-inspiring feeling, his featherweight build exploding all over with brawn, arm by arm, muscle by muscle, his legs growing longer than yours and bigger and locking around you like a vise.

            You shiver and squirm. “…Hunter… Hunter??!”

            “Sorry! Sorry! Sorrysorrysorry… I tried…” he snarls. “I tried. To stop. I couldn’t…” his chest presses against you and scrubs your shoulder blades with his rapidly thickening bush of hair. One of his hands slides down your ribs and tugs your boxers away, lower, revealing your ass.

            “I’m sorry…”

            “I thought… you were gonna let me go home?”

            “I was gonna!” Hunter chokes out. He sounds like he wants to cry. His voice booms, bold and bassy, right in your ear, deeper with every word. “I’ve… I can’t… I gotta knock you up again!”

            You thrash, if only for ceremony. “Dude no what the fuck!”

            “I’m SORRY!!!” Hunter cries out. He plunges inside you and you yelp and your body spasms. He’s slippery and so is the inside of your sleeping bag where he’s been oozing copious gobbets of precum everywhere. He slides to hilt; you swear he’s poking your navel from the inside out…

            How did you do that? He didn’t have to wriggle inside… he didn’t take it slow at all, he shoved straight in without stopping and you…

            You let him.

            “I’ll… I’ll take care of you… again…” Hunter murmurs, but his usual joy and mischief isn’t in his voice. Only shame and regret. “I’m so sorry lil buddy…”

            “Can’t you just! Pull! Out!” you holler in rhythm as his thrusts begin. He’s scrambling your insides. He has to be.

            “Just. Gotta. Get it. Over. With.”

            It’s hard to breathe. He’s squeezing the breath out of you. His arms are so huge. You feel so tiny. The sleeping bag has no room left inside it at all, every last inch of space taken up by your body or his. You’re compressed by his muscles and his cock and the tight fabric all around.

            “We’ll go… see Chase…” Hunter says. “Tell him. He’s gonna have… a new brother…”

            “Hunter please,” you say in quiet defeat.

            “You’re so good,” he gasps, his beard tickling your ear. “So good. Good for babies.”

            “I’m a MAN, HUNTER,” you try to twist back and snap at him. There’s no denying or ignoring the truth of that statement.

            No matter how good it feels. He’s slamming into your fucking stupid gay spot with each thrust and you start cumming on the inside of your sleeping bag. And then you go limp. Your abdomen flexes in anticipation of the incoming load it’s about to be injected with.

            “I know. I know. Little buddy.” Hunter’s great big hands slide down your belly and rub in circles and then his cum arrives on the scene like a tsunami.

            You gasp and choke and grunt and jerk in his hands, in his powerful arms. He clamps down tight to hold you still, to ensure maximum impregnation.

            “Ooooooo…” you can’t help it. You can’t stop your mouth, your throat. The pleasured, submissive moan erupts with all the force of Hunter’s ejaculation. Each pulse makes your feet twitch, your fingers flex and curl in; your belly is thrusting out bigger and bigger, and the sleeping bag gets tighter by the second.

            Your mind is breaking, you’re sure of it. These past few days have surely driven you crazy. Because you’re recalling the nightmare, only it’s not a nightmare anymore. It’s a fantasy. A rather… erotic fantasy.

            The bigger you feel your belly getting, the more erotic it seems. You’ve never known a man alive who could pump out so much jizz… maybe…

            You could just be Hunter’s… mate?

            His breeder.

            His cumdump.

            And whenever he’s horny, or wants to make another baby, he could come and fill you. Make your belly nice and bloated and happy and round. Fuck a big fat healthy lumberjack baby into you, like Chase, and then that baby will come out and grow into another nice big strapping lumberjack boy… like Chase…

            You could fill the forest with your SONS.

You’d never have to pay bills. No more taxes. Do the lumberjacks pay taxes? They certainly don’t live in luxury, but they also don’t seem to have many living expenses, period. And Hunter’s SO manly. He’s a provider. He’s tough and strong and knows how to survive and thrive in the wilderness, living off the land…

            Really, it’s a whole community of survivalists to live with.  

            And it doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

            You think about your family and your college courses and your friends and shake your head, but your belly is still bloating with fat blobs of cum blasting rapid-fire from Hunter’s impaling member. He’s grunting and huffing against your neck. His hands are on your gut to feel you grow, his fingers splayed on your skin.

            “So big,” he moans.

            “Biiiigggg…” you murmur in reply.

            Why do you feel like this?

            Your mouth is half open in a dazed smile. Your eyes are rolling. Every time you feel his thick muscles twitching and flexing against your body, your dick bounces and tries to squeeze out another droplet. So BIG…

            You could just be pregnant. All the time. No one would care here. Hunter would love you all the more for it. He’d keep you well fed, warm, cared for, and pregnant.

            You actually let out a sheepish little giggle of your own as you imagine yourself round, plump, hefty from years of taking in gallons of cum and birthing countless sons… your fellow frat brothers are probably all going to get fat after college anyway, and some of them are already getting a headstart on their middle-aged burnout potbelly, so why not beat them to the punch by doing something useful with your own?

            Passing the days in ease. Nobody telling you what to do. Hunter tending to you, living in leisure, letting him nail that spot, draining your own cum… and filling you with seed so potent and manly that despite you not having a womb or ovaries or fallopian tubes or a VAGINA to catch it… you still swell with a baby. A rapidly growing baby… you could populate the forest and turn it into a town, a city…

            You’re surely going crazy. Your mind is almost blank with pleasure and thoughts of starting a… a tribe. A civilization… a nation of lumberjacks… all bred by a mighty patriarch…

            You come back down to earth whining and whimpering, your belly having engorged and distended with heavy cream, boiling and bubbling as the baby attempts to form. Hunter snuggles against you, slowly shrinking down again. “Ohhhh lil buddy I’m so sorry,” he says, and his voice is getting bright and boyish again. “I didn’t mean to but…”

            “I wanted you to,” you admit, mostly to yourself.

            “… what?” The shock in his normally cheerful voice startles you.

            “I… I was thinking about it and uh. I… I wanted to feel it again.” You bury your face sideways into the sleeping bag’s pillow. Thankfully as he shrinks, there’s a little more room to maneuver, especially once he slides out of you.

            You roll over. Your belly makes a very audible sloshing noise, shifting heavily like the bloated sack of seed it’s become.

            Hunter’s staring at you in awe. His shoulders and neck are slimming down, his jawline smoothing in shape and skin. He opens his mouth as his beard disappears. Out of curiosity, you place your hand on his cheek to feel the skin losing its stubble and smoothing over. Like shaving, but so much more thorough and stress-free.

            “You… wanted me to.”

            You close your eyes. “… I liked it. I, uh. I fuckin’ liked it. I wanted to try it again.”

            There is a radiant light of hope and joy that ignites in his eyes, and his smile returns in full force. “You… you liked it. You like, uh. Bein’ pregnant?”

            Slowly you clench your eyes shut, and then nod exactly once. “I. Uh. I think I do. At least. With you. You were nice. You didn’t like… uh. I mean. You made it… enjoyable. At least, you tried. And… yeah. I…”

            Hunter pulls you close. He buries his face in your neck and laughs. “I… don’t know what to say, I just… you wanna have babies?? Really? Haha! Really! I…” he slowly grinds his semi-solid shaft against your stuffed belly and giggles. “Heh. I told you already… most people don’t, well most WOMEN don’t wanna bother with us beyond one time… and most men are so angry or humiliated or disturbed…” he actually reaches up and wipes a tear out of his eye. “They think we’re disgusting. And I try so hard not to be. And you… wanna have more. With me!”

            “Is that uncommon?” you whisper.

            “No, but.” Hunter squeezes you tight. The pressure of his flat, solid abdominals against your bulging belly feels soothing. “No. But uh. Uhh… it’s just, the other guys might get jealous. But maybe some of your friends will wanna stay, too?”

            “Uh. I’m not sure if I wanna stay, like, forever,” you say, trying to bring your fantasies to reality again. “But, maybe a few more days, and uh, you can help me get this one out… give Chase a little brother…” You pat your own gut. “And uh, maybe after, I mean I’ve got to get back to my life, but… I can come visit you sometimes?”

            “You can come visit me WHENEVER YOU WANT!” Hunter says loudly and grinds his shaft upwards; you feel some cum ooze into your navel. “I’ll… I’ll fuck the FUCK outta you. I’ll fuckin’ impregnate you over and over again…”

            “Careful there, uh, ‘buddy,’” you chuckle, “Don’t get all excited… I don’t wanna have twins in here…”

            “Don’t worry, I won’t transform again,” Hunter says. He smiles up at you. “I got you pregnant for sure. There’s no need, uh… how to put it. I’m ‘satisfied,’ if you catch my drift.”

            “You’re like an animal,” you shake your head, smiling back at him.

            “Yeah, a fuckin’ BEAST!” He growls as deep as his teenage-boy voice will let him and puffs his chest out against yours.


            Your classes don’t start until the fall. You can afford to stay a few days longer. You can afford to visit. It’ll all work out. You’ll just have to try to avoid getting pregnant when your classes start back up. No way do you want to be sitting in a lecture desk and have your husky lumberjack baby start transforming inside you…

            You pack up your campsite and tent… mostly with Hunter’s help, as you’re still sodden and swollen with a very heavy load in your poor tight belly. You’ve been sloshy with liquid before—you are a frat boy, after all—but this is ridiculous. Hunter turned you into a walking cum-balloon this time! You can barely bend over with such a big belly in the way; you’re reminded of that one night when the frat bought a massive stack of pizzas and two of them found their way down your throat and put you to sleep for twelve hours.

            You’re so bloated that you don’t even bother putting a shirt on, not that you’ve got any shirts that would fit. And your bros are all gone. Thankfully.

            He helps you get your belongings and camping gear in your car. You sigh as you stare at your driver’s seat—there is no way you’d be able to squeeze that belly in there and still be able to turn the wheel.

            Hunter hefts you like a bride and carries you off into the woods. Back to his homestead.






            You spend the next couple of days much the same as the first two, but this time you don’t squash the fantasy. You indulge it.

            You pretend like you’ve already agreed and

            Hunter pretends like this

            is the first of many times he’s going to

            crack your legs open


            stuff you

            like a turkey.

            And when the new baby lumberjack comes out he names himself Logan, and rapidly grows into a big strong boy like his older brother. He smirks when he hits his final growth spurt and suddenly he’s staring down at not just Hunter, but you as well; hell he’s actually got a fair amount of bulk like he’s partially transformed! and with a scream of self-esteem Hunter literally swells with pride, transforming and striking a copse of trees down as easily as a farmer harvests wheat, as if to show his new boy the meaning of life.

            You head back to your old life soon after, but you stop thinking of it as your “old life” quickly enough. It’s just your “normal” life.

            And then there’s your “secret” life, with a lot less technology, a lot more syrup, and a lot less inhibitions. 

AN: hello fellow pervs :3 this is one of TWO(2) “non-canon” alternate endings I wrote for Lumberjack Fantasies… well I suppose whichever one you prefer to read the most would end up being canon for you haha thanks for reading the next one will be submitted shortly for your bepleasurement 

Updated Masterlist (as of 10.01.17)

Please ask before translating/posting my work anywhere!

*’s mean that something has been marked as smut, if you find smut that isn’t marked let me know! Everything should be linked, there is no specific order that the characters/celebrities are listed in! Things that are stiked through are pieces that I plan to write or haven’t posted yet. HMU with your questions! (Please let me know if you notice any writing missing from the list).

Requests are open still, by the way!! Please keep my Inbox from going dry!

Much love, Tori xx

Tom Holland


Spider-Dad (Dad!Tom) 

Help (Dad!Tom)

Helpful Hand*

Study Buddy 

Study Buddy Alt. Ending*

Model Status*

morning routine 

Summer Fun (life-guard au)*

Secrets (Blurb/ Would Include)

Night Time Routine


Special Juice

Damage Control

Fourth Of July (Blurb/ Would Include)

Tom, Just Tom


Cat Person

Getting Your Period (Boyfriend!Tom)

Shawn Mendes

Prince!Mendes (Blurb/ Would Include)

 Movie Night*

Alex (Dunkirk)


Tommy (Dunkirk)

Little Ships

Lovers for the Evening*

Harry Styles

Flower Child

Same Mistake

Sundae Funday

Alone Time

Ansel Elgort



Lost Time*

I love being gangsta (but I love sleeping more)

Calum Hood

Remedy (Doctor!au)


Smooth Criminal

Dylan O’Brien


Niall Horan

Someone New

Baby (Baby Driver)

Date Night

Drive, Baby

Baby, Baby*, Pt. 2*,  Pt. 3


Midnight, Car Ride

Home Sweet Home


Rough Night

Library Date

Peter Parker

Sunday Candy

Kylo Ren

Small Steps

Thomas Sangster

Sick Day

Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf)

coming soon

Harry Holland 

Therapy pt. 2 (Cold Blooded)*   

Motion (Prince!au)

Fionn Whitehead

Small Bump

Messy Drunk pt.2  pt.3  pt. 4

Sam Holland 


Someone in the Crowd

Chai Tea Latte

Nick Jonas 

Dating Nick (HC/ Would Include)

Brennen Taylor

Vlog Days

Prank Wars

shangsty  asked:

Hello! So I'm here huhuh I need more angst or fluff or whatever for Juju. The one where Jumin got into a car accident? Instead of him reconciling with MC, can you write a diff ending where when Jumin remembered MC, that's when she got into a car accident or something. Like fate's playing with them. And if Jumin's lucky, MC's not. Omg!! Why do I love breaking myself 😭 Is this okay with you?? I'm so into angst sorry

This hurts me to write, but it must be done. I’m so sorry. So here is the alt ending with extra angst T_T If you aren’t familiar with the story, this is an alternate ending to my fic “Statice”. 

“You need to come home.” It was all he had the strength to say. It sounded like an order, but the two of them knew it was a pleading cry to her.
“I… why?” She asked, her voice quivering. The real question hung silently between them.
“This is not the place to discuss it. Come home.” He backed toward the car and gestured to the door, hand reaching for the handle.

She stayed in place in front of him, glancing back at the somber crowd behind them. “I will, but I can’t ride with you. I promised Mrs. Kim I’d stay with her until it’s all over.” MC took a step back, and although the tension didn’t completely leave him, Jumin released a shaky breath and nodded. Something deep inside him was urging him to say something, anything. To let go of everything he was hoarding inside, the memories and emotions he was keeping close. But this wasn’t the place or time. He had to do it right.

“Of course. When you’ve finished with your obligations, I will meet you at home. Do you need a driver?” He opened the door for himself and pause during before  slipping inside.

“No, thank you. I’ve been driving myself. I’ll see you at home.” The word home came naturally to her, still a reflex even after everything that passed and it filled Jumin with hope. He gave her another formal nod and entered the car, his new chauffeur hesitant to leave without being given the signal. 

Jumin waited for hours. He checked himself phone repeatedly, brushed Elizabeth the 3rds soft fur, adjusted his tie countless times. He was picking up his cell to check again when it frantically began vibrating his is palm. The screen lit up with Seven’s profile picture.

“Luciel. Have you heard from MC? She was supposed to meet me,” he answered and went directly into his questions, never asking why the hacker was calling in the first place. He was a man with priorities.

“Jumin, that’s why I’m calling.” The man’s voice was shaky and tense. “You have to come to the hospital right now. The same one you were at. She was in a car accident on her way to meet you. Oh god Jumin I’m so sorry. It’s not good. I offered to drive her but she refused and-” a choked sob echoed over the phone. Jumin’s chest seized and he cut off the phone as he ran out the door.

His new driver wasn’t quick, or graceful. He didn’t know to leave without questions and he took his time getting to the hospital, trying to avoid a similar situation as the previous driver. Jumin clenched his teeth and growled for the man to go faster, to break any law in his way. His eyes burned and his heart ached at the thought of the woman he loved being alone in a sterile hospital bed, without him. Without his words and soft touches, without knowing he remembered everything, remembered her, needed her. The car hadn’t even pulled to a complete stop before he rushed out the door and into the lobby.

He needed to see her, to tell her. He needed to touch her and let the last few empty fragments of their love rush back into him. He just needed to say he loved her and was there with her. He needed her. He had forgotten her and now he remembered and he needed her. The hallways were too long, too filled with meaningless numbers, sounds and people. 

“Mr. Han! Please wait, I need to speak to you!” The doctor called after him as he rushed through into her room. 

It was completely silent. An icy chill ran through him. Every RFA member was there, gripping onto each other, lightly sobbing. They all turned to him, and began speaking at once, too many voices to hear what they were saying. The curtain to her bed was pulled, so he couldn’t see her. He needed to see her. Ignoring the people surging forward to stop him, he ripped open the curtain, holding his breath, stopping his heart from beating without her. 

There she was, as beautiful as the day she walked into his penthouse. Her hair was so shiny and smooth, falling all around her. Her eyes were closed, peaceful. Her skin was pale, drained of any of the love and joy she usually filled the air around her with. Her enticing pink lips were now still and white. His heart was done beating. His mind was blank. He fell onto the bed, onto her, gripping her tightly and choking out all the words he never got to say.

He had lost count of how many bottles of wine he had gone through. His head was swimming with alcohol and sorrow. The world was an empty buzzing place and he no longer fit into it without her. The dried tears tugged at the skin on his cheeks as he grimaced.

All he could think about was how desperately he needed her there to console him. He needed to see her, touch her, kiss her. The funeral was tomorrow. He couldn’t wait that long. He couldn’t show up, the stoic robot and say goodbye to his reason for living. To the woman that taught him the feelings that could cause this heartache, this insatiable sorrow. Jumin was a greedy man, in all things. He couldn’t have these feelings without the woman that caused them. He needed to see her.

Rising without any of the grace and eloquence his childhood had drilled into him, he stumbled throughout the penthouse. Every scent, touch, and sight reminded him of her, made him remember her. His head was filled with thoughts of her, the woman herself an empty space in their home. Just as she once was in his head. He knew what he needed now, and it was ripped from him. Fresh burning tears blinded him, and he let out a repressed sob. He had said he didn’t want to be a fool who lost what he needed, yet here he was. 

His decision struck him, much in the fashion of the bus that started it all. He grabbed the dusty keys that hung next to his door.

He needed to see her. He needed to be with her again.

anonymous asked:

✿ 20 SaboAce?

20. underwater kiss

The aquarium hadn’t meant to acquire a mermaid. It certainly hadn’t meant to acquire Sabo, angry and half-blind and terrified of any of the mermaids that looked like him, and when Ace had found out he’d stormed Shank’s office in his half-off wet suit and demanded that the mer be put into a private tank. 

It’d taken a solid ten minutes of arguing, but Benn stomped in near the end and pointed angrily at the puddle on the carpet, making Shanks groan and relent, agreeing to let Ace work with the young mer. 

Keep reading

Fuck as an introduction and happy end

Metaphors and sestinas bore me to death
I’m tired of melancholic poetry
I hope one happy day I will forget grammar and all poetic rules
I hope one happy day I will write in gibberish language
and everybody will love me and understand me
including aliens satan and god
When I’m dead I want a frivolous party to take place over my grave
When I’m dead I will marry Jim Morrison and Achilles
I want to cuddle and spoon with a demon before I’m dead
This poem is stupid and polished ideas boring and meaningless
This poem will win the Pulitzer Price in Never Land
A rose for love and a poem for forever
Last line is a metaphor flying with cherub wings
I’m so tired of me and melancholic poetry
I’m so tired of beautiful poetry
Tomorrow I’ll wake up and I’ll be a Japanese broken doll
but I’ll still brainstorm about beautiful stanzas
I’ll sneak in my worst nightmare and destroy all the hate in the world
This poem is stupid
This poem will win the Pulitzer Price in Never Land
Fuck as an introduction and happy end