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#when you’re so stressed you just Do Nothing out of the things you need to do
mirage-aera · 1 day
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•°. *࿐ Sick days || JH86
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ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Love Lost - Mac Miller, The Temper Trap
Synopsis: Sick days usually aren’t fun. Especially for Jack. He hates them. But you somehow always make it better.
Word count: 1.401
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Am I watching the canucks game while writing this? Yes, and stressing over it
When they said that men are always the most dramatic when they catch the common cold, you didn’t believe them. You thought it was an exaggeration. But the way Jack has been acting the past three days? Yeah, it’s not an exaggeration. You’re both curing his cold while nursing your own headache. One that’s been a product of his whining. This man is acting as if he’s on his deathbed, a damsel in distress, a whiny little-. You love him, but you wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of sedating him for a day so that you could get some peace and quiet. You would like to know how Ellen handled him whenever he got sick. It’s almost unbearable.
“Babyyy?”
“Am I dying? It feels like I’m dying.”
“Everything hurts…”
“More medicine? I don’t need it. It’s disgusting.”
“Can you please get me a painkiller? I do need it…”
The need to hit him with a pan to knock him out for a few hours is concerningly high. You’re trying to be patient with him. He’s not feeling well, and not being active, those are things that he hates and you know that. You’re really trying to be patient with him. However, he makes it very hard to when he’s whining every other minute.
You hide yourself in the kitchen to make sure Jack will leave you alone for a minute. You absentmindedly stir canned chicken soup in a small pan. When it starts smoking you take it off the heat and grab a bowl. You pour the soup into the bowl and grab a spoon. You carefully walk to your bedroom with the bowl, a bottle of water, and a pill. You open the door a little wider and walk up to him. He sniffles but manages to crack out a small smile. “There you are. I missed you.” He says softly, making your heart melt. Sick as ever and he still manages to make butterflies flutter. “I was only gone for a minute.” You say gently as you place the bottle and pill on his nightstand. You hold out the bowl of soup. He grimaces at the sight of it. You give him a stern look. “You need to eat something. Otherwise, you won’t get better. And make sure you take a pill after or while you eat.” You can’t help but fuss over him a bit.
He groans in response but takes the bowl from you. He starts eating at a slow pace. You sit by his bedside and watch him eat. Pale, sweaty face, hair pointing in all sorts of directions, and yet he still is so handsome to you. He notices that you’re staring and glances at you. He lets out a raspy chuckle. “There’s nothing noteworthy to stare at right now.” You smile and move his hair out of his face. It’s starting to become a little long again. “There’s plenty to stare at. You’ll always be pretty in my eyes.” His eyes shine at your comment. “Pretty?” He asks with amusement in his voice. You roll your eyes but can’t help but let a grin creep up your face. “Sorry. Handsome.” He smiles triumphantly. “That’s what I thought.”
He soon finishes his bowl of soup. You take it from him and set it aside. You hand him the bottle of water and the small white pill. He takes it from you. You notice how clammy his hands are. You frown as you watch him down the pill followed by big gulps of water. You place the back of your hand against his forehead. Your frown deepens when you feel how warm he still is. He knows better than to fight you back so he lets you do your thing. “Your fever is not letting up. You should get some more rest. That might help.” You say softly. He nods and slides underneath the blankets. He pulls it up to his chin. You gently run a hand through his hair. “I’ll be in the living room. Just holler if you need me.” You say softly. Although, you’re secretly hoping he’ll sleep for a couple of hours. For both of your sakes. “Alright.” He croaks before shutting his eyes. You watch over him until you’re sure he’s fallen asleep. You get up carefully and make your way to the living room.
***
Time passes by quickly when you’re finally able to relax. You check the time on your phone only to realize Jack has been sleeping for a while now. You get up from the couch and quietly walk back towards your bedroom. You peek your head in only to see Jack snoring away without a care in the world. You smile at the sight, happy that he’s getting some rest. You realize that the blanket has slipped down a little. You carefully walk up to him and tuck him back in. You tuck the sides underneath him. Tightly wrapping him up in the blanket. He looks like a burrito. A 5’11 burrito.
You step back and take in the sight. You let out a quiet snicker. You pull out your phone and take a picture. Saving that for later. You look at him one more time before leaving the room and going back to the couch. You throw yourself down onto the couch and look at the picture you’ve taken. You snort. Jack’s going to kill you for sure once he finds out. You send it to the Hughes brothers group chat that Jack has ever so kindly thrown you into.
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Another hour passes as you’re peacefully watching something on the television. You laugh at the conversation going on in the group chat. You hear some rustling from the bedroom. You’re about to get up when you hear a hoarse holler. “Baby!” You chuckle, “yeah bub?” He lets out a loud groan. “You did not send that picture in the group chat!” You let out a laugh and make your way towards him. You snicker when you see his phone in his hand. The group chat is still open. “I did. It was way too hilarious to pass up. You were like a burrito. Or should I say a Jackrito? One of a kind.” He pouts at you. “Really? A Jackrito? Was that necessary?” He asks, almost offended by your shenanigans. You snicker. “Yes. It’s funny.” He crosses his arms and huffs. “I don’t find you very amusing right now.” He retorts before he gets into a coughing fit. You pat his back, helping him through it. “You’ll find it amusing when you get better.” He glares at you and shakes his head. He stops coughing. “You’re still in trouble. Don’t forget that, because I certainly won’t.” You let out a snort. “Whatever you say bub.” You look at him affectionately. You suddenly get a great idea. “I should send the picture to your mom.” His eyes widen at what you said. “No!” He exclaims. You burst out into laughter. He huffs and pulls the blanket over him. “I’m glad you are having fun while I’m dying.” You roll your eyes. “Now you’re being dramatic again. For the millionth time, you are not dying Jack. You simply have the common cold.” He lets out a raspy chuckle. He lifts the blanket slightly and pulls you into him. He covers you both with the blanket. “It feels like I’m dying, especially when you aren’t around.” You can’t help but smile at that, despite his theatrics. You can feel yourself getting tired. Even though it isn’t that late yet. The warmth he’s emitting is so comforting. You let yourself fall asleep in his arms.
***
A week later he’s back on his feet. But he transferred his germs to you. You’re as sick as a dog. He walks into your bedroom with a bowl of soup in his hands. “This will make you feel better.” You glare at him. He laughs, “are you still mad at me for getting you sick?” You nod, “what do you think?” He snickers and sets the bowl aside. He sits by your side and rubs your arm tenderly. “I said sorry baby. But…” he trails off. He shows you a cheeky grin. “It’s only the common cold. Don’t be so dramatic. You still want to hit him with a pan. “I hate you.” He rolls his eyes before planting a kiss on your forehead. “I love you too. Get better soon, okay?”
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mimixmunson · 3 days
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I had a rough time growing up and ive never relaxed around anyone, i was wondering if maybe i could request a little thing with eddie where theyre cuddling and hes helping the reader relax and helping reader learn to trust him, that shes safe now, that she can let go.. nothing bads going to happen..
maybe alittle bit of subspace too?
And she tells eddie that she loves him while shes all doughy eyed and relaxed ❤
Softly and slowly. Eddie Munson x female reader. Angst/fluff. Blurb.
Ty for your request, I hope this is okay. It’s a bit self indulgent but I hope it helps you feel better. My DMs are open if you ever need to speak to someone impartial<3
“You’re okay. No need to worry doll. You think anyone’s gonna hurt you? No chance. They’ll have to get through me, and do you think anyone’s gonna try and fight the freak? Nah. They’re scared of me. So you, little princess, are so safe here.” Eddie mutters, breathing his words into your ear as you lay on his chest. His hair curling over your forehead, he looks down at you with a reassuring smile. You knew you belonged to him. He never treated you like his property, but like you were the most precious crystal he’d ever found. As if you were washed up on the shore just for him to find and polish.
“I promise you. I got you.” His smile beaming from ear to ear, your heartbeat begins to slow and return to its normal pace. Something about being on Eddie’s chest became the most comforting thing for you. It’s like when a baby is born and they lay on their parents chests almost immediately after, soothing the crying to a holt. With your father absent for most of your life, the daddy issues really came to life when you met Eddie. The sort of guy you’d bring home to your parents to piss them off, I mean look at him. A metal head, a stoner, tattoos and in a band called “Corroded Coffin.” You knew your mom wouldn’t approve, she barely approved of you. Always criticising everything you did, putting you down at every given opportunity. But Eddie? He was almost paternal to you.
“They can’t hurt you anymore.” He whispers, running his hands through your hair, scratching at your scalp. His hands massaging your head melted away all of the thoughts, all of the trauma memories that came to light in the panic attack. Eddie knew your past, he wasn’t the sort of “don’t kill yourself you’re so sexy!” Or “don’t do it again.. for me?” Whilst rubbing your scarred skin kind of guy. He was patient, it took years for you to open up to him and he waited. Never pushed for information, never tried to force you to open up about your childhood. He just comforted you, held your hand through the panic attacks, cuddled you through your nightmares and sat in the therapy office waiting room for you every Thursday while you worked on yourself.
“I’m here for you.” He kisses your forehead. The act is so simple yet so intimate. He was right too. He was there for you. He sat with you for hours at skull rock when you got the news that the dad that left you when you were just seven years old had passed away. He was there for you when you were finally diagnosed with complex post traumatic stress disorder, and he wiped every single tear that fell down your cheek. But the best part was, he never expected anything in return. Eddie never tried to cash in on his emotional support to you with sexual favours. He didn’t see you as a doll that you could use when you wanted her. He saw you for who you were, a little damaged but a huge heart with so much love to give.
“Nothing bad is gonna happen to you now baby.” Eddie mumbled as he cradled you, swaying your body from side to side. You let yourself breathe, the breath came out harshly. Mustering up all of the energy you have left to lift your chin up from his tattooed chest, your head feeling a little hazy from the second hand smoke of his joint. You see him, half smiling and brushing the hair from your face behind your ears.
“I love you.” Your voice was breathy and insecure but you knew you meant your words. They didn’t come from your throat, but from the depths of your heart. You lean in, planting a gentle peck on his lips, feeling him smile against you before he agreed, “I love you too.” He’s honey-eyed and his facial expression so gooey and soft for you. Time slows as you stare at each other, so innocently in love with each other. He loves you gently, softly and carefully. You know your heart is safe with him.
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waldau · 7 hours
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I cant insert a photo here on your ask but it goes something like
"Do whatever you want!!!" X said out of anger then character Y kissed him gently. "You said do whatever i want, right?"
whatever — choi seungcheol | 1,821 words | hurt/comfort, fluff
this prompt was really cute!!!
gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out? and in need of a hug?
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you love the sounds that make the house you share with seungcheol your home.
you love hearing the door creak when you open it at that specific angle. you love the sound of the clock ticking in the living room that seungcheol himself picked out. you love the sound of him walking on the wooden floor of your house, the sound of his glass when it clinks against the marble of the kitchen island, the birds chirping in the evening when you take out time to just relax against him and watch the sun set, and the sound of his quiet snores when he insists he wants to watch you watch your favourite shows, only to end up falling asleep.
there’s none of that here, in this moment.
you take off your shoes and kick them to the side, not bothering to open the cabinet to put them inside because the doors make a particularly loud sound when they snap shut, and you don’t want to risk waking seungcheol up again.
it’s been an odd couple of weeks, with you staying out late because of more work and seungcheol staying in because his workload has been relatively less for the beginning of the new year. him being at home would’ve made you happy if you didn’t have to apologize for cancelling and rescheduling dates, or for being left with energy enough only for a bath and a quick dinner, movie plus cuddling sessions replaced by cuddling in your sleep. if you were lucky to get back home in time, that is.
you stop and listen for a few moments. there’s no sound to be heard. the door to your bedroom is shut, which means that seungcheol must have already gone to sleep.
a little pang of hurt stabs your heart. it’s not like you want him to keep late hours for you, but you’re not exactly doing well in these trying times, and you’d really love to have his voice wash out your worries.
a resounding bang from the kitchen startles you. before you can even think of the worst possible scenario that could’ve just transpired, seungcheol walks out of the kitchen, a rolling pin in one hand and some flour on his hair and his rolled up sleeves. the literal definition of a hot mess.
“hey, baby,” he says, eyes widening when he sees you. “i was expecting you to be back in an hour or two.”
so it’s that bad, huh? it’s become normal for him to expect you to come back even later? you focus on the stains on his clothes instead, and the rolling pin that seems so out of place in his hand. “what exactly are you doing?”
“nothing! well, nothing much. yet. maybe you should stay out of here for a while.”
one thing about seungcheol is that he never keeps secrets. he can’t tell you a white lie to save his life, much less a black lie. “cheol,” you say, frowning, “both of us know you don’t even cook. are you baking? and why’s there flour in your hair?”
“sieving accident,” he mumbles, so quiet that you almost don’t catch it.
“should i be afraid?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. you feel like your tears are a short distance away, and you really, really hope he’s done nothing more. something tells you that isn’t it, however.
“not really!” says seungcheol, but you can read him like glass at this point. the little nervous laugh and the way his nose twitches when he tries spinning facts makes you dread what you’re going to find inside. “maybe you should have a nice bath before you sleep? did you have dinner yet?”
you try to move past him into the kitchen but he blocks the entrance with his broad frame. the one time this isn’t sexy.
“cheol, let me in.”
“not until you tell me the password.”
“there’s a password now? what, something like choi seungcheol is the best?”
he giggles. “close.”
you sigh. “cheol, i’m really not in the mood to play games right now. please tell me what’s going on in there?”
he tries pulling that face, the one with the puppy eyes, where he looks at you so pleadingly that you’re generally ready to fold and do whatever he asks of you, but right now it just doesn’t work on you. the more evasive he is, the more worried you get. before he can react, you duck under his outstretched arms and into the kitchen.
rather, into the mess he’s made of the kitchen.
you’ve heard stories about junhui trying to bake. they sounded absolutely hilarious, and you’ve always wondered how he could mess up so bad that he managed to land waffle batter on the ceiling. especially when he didn’t even own a ladder to try and clean it.
it’s not funny when it’s your house that has some batter on the walls. at least it’s not the ceiling, you think, a bit hysterical, until you see flour on the…everywhere. it’s just everywhere. the counter, near the sink, in front of the oven like it’s a modern day trail of breadcrumbs that hansel and gretel would’ve followed. there’s also baking supplies scattered all over, an extremely huge sheet of baking paper lining a tray that’s sitting next to a bunch of bowls.
it’s a mess, to say the least.
“i’m sorry,” seungcheol says, gently turning you away from the sight of it. he winces when he sees your face. you don’t even know what your face looks like. all you know is that you’re tired, that you need a break, and that the last thing you would have liked to see today was your boyfriend’s face while he was peacefully asleep, and not…this.
you shake your head but no words come out.
“i’m sorry,” seungcheol repeats, setting the rolling pin down on the counter. a comical little cloud of flour rises and settles. what kind of accident even was that? “i was just…trying to bake.”
“cheol, you didn’t even know why we use baking soda till last week!”
“hey!” he says, defensive. “i asked you so i could learn. and i know this isn’t great, but—” his words dry up when he notices where your gaze lies — on the batch of cookies that are burned beyond belief.
you can’t believe your eyes, either. you’re not the biggest baker in the world, but you’ve never burned anything you’ve baked. especially not in your first attempt. maybe you’d have given up the courage to bake again if that had happened, but seungcheol clearly isn’t that bothered by it.
you don’t know if it’s because of how pitiful they look, or how long your day has been, but you feel a lump rise in your throat.
“you never even do this,” you whisper, only focusing on his face and not the mess around you. “why did you think you had to do this today?”
“am i not allowed to try things if i want to?” he asks, crossing his arms.
“it’s not that, cheol,” you say, trying to be as reasonable as possible. “i’d ask you for some help before trying something i’ve never done before. you never, ever do this. only when i ask you to help me. why today?”
“because i wanted to,” he says, almost flippant. “i’ll clean it up before you know it.”
but it’s not about the mess. it’s not about the burnt cookies. it’s not about the way he tried to block you from seeing the state of the kitchen. it’s the finality in his tone. it’s the fact that it’s not a big deal to him because he hasn’t had the day you’ve had.
seungcheol’s eyes widen when he sees your lips tremble. “are you seriously mad at me? for baking?”
“do whatever you want,” you hiss, tired and angry, feeling a single tear slide down your cheek. “i shouldn’t have looked inside.” you turn to walk away before it becomes a full fledged cascade of tears, but you don’t go far because of the hand holding on to your wrist.
“stop,” he says, holding you strong enough that it becomes futile to try and escape.
“let me go, seungcheol,” you say, avoiding his face.
“oh, no,” he breathes out, and the next thing you know is that your face is cradled in his hands and there’s a warm kiss pressed to your forehead. and your nose. and your lips. and it keeps repeating till you push him away, your face in his hands. you can feel the ugly emotions inside you ebbing away slowly, reducing to small embers that prickle the slightest bit.
“what are you doing?” you ask weakly.
“you said do whatever i want, right?” he asks, a smile on his face.
that gets you to break, for some reason. you would’ve forgiven him even if he’d gotten batter on the ceiling, because this — the sight of seungcheol with flour in his otherwise perfect hair, wearing an old shirt and beaming at you even though you’ve snapped at him — kills even those small embers.
you press your face to his chest and let the tears out silently.
seungcheol rubs your back. “hey,” he says softly. “let it out, okay? and i’m sorry about the mess. i meant it when i said i’ll clean—”
“it’s not that,” you whisper. “just…hold me?”
seungcheol complies, and you find yourself swaying in his hold in the silence of your house.
“want to talk to me about it?” he offers when you pull away, feeling slightly better. “i’m—”
“stop apologizing to me, cheol,” you say, laughing a little wetly. “it’s not the kitchen. i’ve just…i’ve been missing you like crazy and i miss just being with you without doing anything. i hate coming home late and seeing you asleep by yourself in our bed. i want…i want things to go back to the way they were.”
“so, a bad week?”
“more than one.”
“but you have me here at the end of every single day, right?” seungcheol says, pushing up the corners of your lips to make you smile. you do smile, but it’s because of the cute grin he has on his face. “we’ll get through it before you know it.”
you sigh. “it sounds good when you say it like that.”
“because i mean it. also, one more thing.”
“yeah?”
“please don’t ever call me by my whole name again.”
“only if you mess up the kitchen that bad again.”
“hey!”
“also, why were you baking in the first place?”
“because i wanted to cheer you up,” he says, sheepish, and you want to do nothing more than hold his face and kiss him silly.
“you’re an idiot, baby,” you say, cradling his face in your hands. “but you’re my idiot. and i love you.”
seungcheol’s blushing face is quite possibly enough to get you through tomorrow.
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu
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Accidental CI
Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x fem!reader
Summary: When your employer's name comes up in a case, your best friend Deacon calls to ask for your help. He leads you into a dangerous situation, and you come out as more than friends.
Warnings: r works an unspecified corporate job, mentions weapon trafficking and guns, threats, mostly fluff!
Word Count: 3.1k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Deacon Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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“Hi, Deac,” you greet as you open the door.
“How was work?” he asks.
“It was fine. My boss forgot to start a software update last night so we didn’t have computer access until after lunch.”
“So, you got paid to sit there and do nothing?”
“Which isn’t that much different than most days,” you tease. “What about you? Any crazy calls?”
You lead Deacon into your kitchen, and his smile widens when he sees dinner waiting on your counter. He pulls you into a quick hug before telling you about his day at work.
“No injuries?” you ask softly.
“No injuries,” he assures. “What about you; any paper cuts that need tending to?”
“Just mental injuries for me. Our financial statements aren’t aligning like they should and if it’s not fixed by the next audit, someone’s getting in trouble.”
“What do you think caused it?”
“Oversight or adding the same bill twice, I’d guess. But I think we should talk about something more exciting than my future IRS investigation.”
“Then let’s talk about that amazing dinner over there and I’ll remind you that Luca wants to have a cooking competition with you.”
Deacon has been your best friend since he moved in next door. You also harbor an ever-growing crush on him. When you saw him climb out of the moving truck the first day, you knew you wanted to be close. He’s got a stressful job, so if you can give him a break and a friend, that’s what you’ll do.
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Deacon watches the screen in the situation room as Hondo explains the corporate espionage turned weapon trafficking case. It's a strange move, going from stealing trade secrets to transporting illegal weapons across borders and into areas with strict gun control laws. Metro found a lot of evidence, but when they located the weapons supply in their prime suspect’s corporate office, they called in 20 Squad.
“Wait, go back. Who’s the suspect?” Deacon asks.
His eyes search the monitor as Hondo returns to a page of surveillance photos.
“Elwin Dupree. You know him?” Hondo responds.
“Not personally, but I know someone who works for him.”
“CI?” Chris guesses.
“No. She might be willing to help, though.”
“Call her,” Hondo says.
Hicks adds, “Otherwise, we’re going in blind. Metro has intel but it’s not enough to avoid an ambush.”
Deacon nods and walks out of the room. He presses a contact from his favorites list before raising his phone to his ear.
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“Remind me why we work here?” your desk neighbor, whom you lovingly call Nola, says as she sits across from you.
“Because the pay is good… and we’re desperate,” you offer, smiling as you accept your favorite drink.
“May I remind you that Dupree is an idiot who can’t even remember what he asks us to do?”
“Just smile and go with it, Nola, it’s the easiest way to handle it.”
“The man called me into his office yesterday, and then didn’t know why I was there,” she whispers.
“That’s probably a good thing for you. Considering your nickname is based off of your reply of no; lazy.”
“I am lazy! So, I don’t like to do things. He can fire me whenever he wants.”
You roll your eyes and prepare to reply but are interrupted by your cell phone ringing. You apologize to Nola before you answer it.
“Hey, it’s me,” Deacon says on the other end of the line.
“Indeed, it is. What’s going on?” you reply.
“How do you know something is going on?”
“It’s mid-morning on a weekday. And you never call me.”
“I call you all the time!” Deacon argues.
You laugh before you say, “Not when you’re at work.”
“Okay, fine, you’re right. Listen, we’re working on something, and your boss’s name came up.”
“Dupree?” you inquire. “Why?”
“I can’t tell you exactly what we’re looking into, but Hondo and Hicks wanted to know if you’d be willing to help us.”
“Of course. Tell me what to do,” you agree.
“Can you come down here?”
“Uh, yeah,” you answer. You open the calendar on your computer and add, “I can spare an hour and a half, is that enough time?”
“Absolutely. Thank you,” Deacon says.
“Anything for you.”
You hang up and gather your things before standing.
“Where are you off to? Please tell me you’re leaving to go on a date with the hot neighbor you always talk about,” Nola whispers.
“Not today. There was a slight mishap for some of our paperwork. I have to run to another office and get everything sorted out,” you lie. “I’ll have my cell if you need anything.”
“Dodging bullets left and right, aren’t you? Go ahead, I’ll watch your phone and fill in Dupree if he notices you’re gone.”
“Thanks, Nola.”
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When you park outside the station, your thoughts begin spiraling. You sit in your seat and wonder if you made the right decision. Will you be in Deacon’s way or be too distracted by him to even help? What if something happens to him while you’re with him? What if he-
A tap on your window draws you from your questions. You turn your head and see Deacon looking at you through the glass. You send him a small smile as he opens your door and bends to look at you. His head tilts to this side, and when he lowers to a squat, his brown eyes distract you as he looks up at you.
“You okay? You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he says gently.
“No, I want to. Just- I was thinking too much, I guess,” you reply.
Deacon nods and stands before offering his hand to help you out of your seat. He closes the door and ensures it’s locked before moving his hand to your back to lead you inside.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Hondo,” Hondo says as you enter.
You shake Hondo’s hand and introduce yourself as you follow him further into the station. He doesn’t waste any time as he begins explaining as much as he can about how your boss is involved in the case they’re working.
“We’d like to send you in the get additional details on the office and any other information you can find,” Hondo says. “We’ve got basic floor plans, but we need insider info.”
“She can’t go in alone,” Deacon argues. “We don’t know what he has in that office. If she starts asking questions and he gets suspicious-“
You cut Deacon off by laying a hand on his shoulder and asking, “What if you go in with me? It wouldn’t be that hard for me to lie about who you are; Dupree doesn’t know most of the people who work in the building. Plus, you know what to look for better than I do.”
Hondo looks at Deacon and waits for his reply. You feel Deacon sigh against your hand before agreeing to go into the office with you.
“There’s an employee entrance without metal detectors, but you have to swipe a keycard,” you explain. “They’ll know if you piggyback with me.”
“Our techs can make him a keycard,” Hondo assures. “If you have yours, they can copy parts of it.”
You nod and pass your card to Hondo. He turns and gives it to a passing officer with a few short instructions. Deacon pats your arm as he leaves to change; his uniform isn’t business casual, but he said he'd find something more fitting.
“20 Squad is going to be close by,” Hondo begins. “Deacon can say a word and we’ll be inside, but if you need help and get separated from Deacon, try to get to a window. Signaling for help is easiest with this; just keep it in your pocket or your hand and press the button if you need us.”
You accept the small device and slide it into your pocket. It’s invisible, and you nod as Hondo reassures you everything will be okay.
“I know you can’t tell me what exactly Dupree is doing, but you’re going to catch him, right?” you ask softly.
“Absolutely. Nobody can run from S.W.A.T.”
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You scan your keycard and wait for Deacon to do the same before opening the door. The employee entrance is on the side of the building, and you smooth your hands over your hips nervously. When you feel the device Hondo gave you, you relax slightly.
“We’ll walk to my desk, look at a few papers, and then go in?” you suggest as Deacon gestures for you to enter.
“Sounds good,” he agrees.
“The suit looks good,” you mumble as you walk toward the elevator.
Deacon chuckles as the elevator door opens, and you smile as he shakes his head at your flattery. The elevator is quiet, and as you wait to arrive on your floor, you take a few deep breaths. Deacon’s hand finds your lower back, and he rubs small, comforting circles before the door opens.
“Still working on the paperwork issue?” Nola asks when you reach your desk.
“Yeah, we are. This is Ryan from the Santa Monica branch,” you say.
Nola’s eyes narrow at you before she looks at Deacon’s hand. He’s close to you, like always, but you don’t understand her look. You raise your brows, but she only shrugs before looking back at her computer.
“Was it this one?” you ask Deacon.
He takes the blank form from your hand and nods. “Yes, this is the one.”
You return the paper to its rightful place on your desk before leading Deacon down another hallway. Nola’s reaction confused you at first, yet you’re not surprised when Deacon gently grabs your hip to stop you in the hallway.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
“It’s fine. Just stay calm and remember our covers. Like you said, Dupree won’t know any difference,” Deacon soothes. “And the team’s waiting for our signal if we need them.”
You nod, and Deacon’s hands raise to your shoulders as he drops his chin to look into your eyes.
“You got this,” he promises.
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“I need to discuss an urgent matter with Mr. Dupree,” you inform his secretary. “This is Mr. Ryan Davidson from the Santa Monica branch. There have been some discrepancies with paperwork submitted to their office, which needs Mr. Dupree’s immediate attention.”
His secretary raises the receiver of her desk phone and whispers into it. You turn to look at Deacon, and he tilts his head to the left to signal you to stay calm and wait.
“You can go on in,” the secretary says as she lowers the phone.
Deacon opens the door for you, and you step inside first.
“Hello,” Mr. Dupree greets. He doesn’t pretend to remember your name, you notice. “I heard there’s an issue with some paperwork?”
“Yes, sir,” Deacon says. “I’m Ryan Davidson with the Santa Monica office and we’ve been having issues; receiving incomplete or incorrect paperwork from this branch.”
“My sincerest apologies, Ryan. If you don’t mind, use that laptop there and sign into your account while I bring mine up. We’ll get this sorted.”
You stand back as Deacon walks to the table at the back of the office and opens the laptop. Mr. Dupree didn’t shake his hand, ask for identification, or take other proper steps before jumping to help. It’s suspicious, but probably not what Deacon and his team need.
“What kind of incorrect information have you seen?” Mr. Dupree asks. You open your mouth to answer, and he adds, “Ryan?”
“Financial statements that aren’t matching previous months, for one. Most likely an oversight or adding the same bill twice. Nothing too extreme, just something we need sorted before the end-of-year audits,” Deacon answers.
You raise your eyebrows in surprise at his response. He practically repeated a complaint you shared during your last dinner together.
“Very well. I don’t know why the system is moving so slowly,” Dupree responds. He moves his hand under his desk as Deacon types.
You watch Dupree because Deacon’s team is getting him the access he needs. When you see the handle of a gun gripped in Dupree’s hand, you call, “Gun!” and drop to the floor just before he shoots above your head.
Deacon pulls his own weapon and points it at Dupree as he demands, “Put the gun down. I’m Sergeant Kay, L.A.P.D. S.W.A.T.”
As Deacon speaks, you slowly press your back against the side of Dupree’s desk, where he can’t see you. Deacon’s eyes are on Dupree, but you watch Deacon because you trust him to keep you safe.
“I could put it down,” Dupree says. “But if I angle it like this and pull the trigger, wouldn’t it hit your little friend?”
Deacon glances at you quickly, and you lock eyes before you shift away from the oversized desk.
“One more time: drop the gun,” Deacon repeats.
You can’t see Dupree, but you clap your hands over your ears as you hear two shots. Everything goes quiet, and you lean forward slowly to look for Deacon. He kneels before you and gently pulls your hands away from your head. You let him move you before surging forward to hug him. He welcomes you into his arms as footsteps echo in the hallway outside.
“It’s okay. We got him,” Deacon promises.
You nod against Deacon and allow him to help you stand. Deacon keeps you angled away from Dupree’s desk, and you’re happy to avoid looking.
“Did you get everything you need?” you ask quietly as Street and Luca lead a paramedic inside.
“We did. Are you okay?”
Deacon lays a hand on your shoulder, and his thumb presses gently into your tense muscles as he looks into your eyes.
“Get her out of here. Hondo said you can take the rest of the day. Maybe she can practice for the competition,” Luca calls.
“I think you need the practice more than me,” you reply without turning.
Luca laughs as Deacon wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you out of the office. He takes you back to your desk to get your things, and Nola rushes to hug you when you enter the open area.
“I heard the shots and was so worried!” she exclaims. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” you promise.
 “Then I need you to do something. Go home and ask your neighbor out. Don’t wait too long,” she says.
You nod and return to Deacon’s side. He heard everything from where he was standing, yet doesn’t comment as he helps you into the passenger seat of his car. Once you’re on the road, he fills the silence by asking you questions about what you will cook for your competition with Luca. You know he’s trying to distract you from what happened, and you appreciate it.
Back at the station, you sign some paperwork to receive CI benefits before walking to Deacon’s side. He offers to drive you home and keep you company, which you happily accept. You never like leaving Deacon and don’t want to be alone tonight.
“I waited too long,” Deacon murmurs while walking you out.
You stop and turn to face him as you ask, “For what?”
“What your friend said. I waited too long to ask you out.”
You smile and slide your hand into his. “Did you know that Nola looked at us like that because you were standing really close to me?" Deacon shrugs, and you explain, “I never shut up about you, Deac. I’m in love with you, so she was confused about why I was standing so close to another man.”
“Never?” Deacon repeats playfully.
“You didn’t wait too long, Deac,” you promise.
“I didn’t?”
“Not if you take your chance right now.”
Deacon looks around quickly before yelling, “Hicks! Did you file it yet?”
“No; I’m busy, Deacon,” Hicks answers.
“Can you make her Hondo’s CI?”
Hicks looks between the two of you and rolls his eyes. “Yes, I can.”
When Deacon turns back to you, he doesn’t give you time to speak before he asks, “Will you go out with me?”
“Nothing would make me happier,” you answer.
Your smile grows to match Deacon’s, but he makes it disappear when he pulls you in and kisses you. The sound of clapping makes you open your eyes as you pull back. Hondo leads 20 Squad in a round of applause, and you bury your face in Deacon’s chest to hide your grin and burning embarrassment.
“My CI’s never end up like this,” Hondo jokes.
“Pretty good timing, though, wasn’t it?” Deacon asks as he wraps his arms around you.
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You stand wordlessly from the couch and walk past Deacon. He turns to watch you as you enter your bathroom and close the door. It only takes a moment for him to decide to follow you.
“Are you okay?” Deacon asks from outside the door. “And don’t just say you’re fine. We both know you’re not.”
You open the door and lean against the vanity as he walks in. “I feel bad that you had to shoot Dupree. I know he’s fine and he’ll recover, pay for him crimes, and everything. But you probably wouldn’t have done that if I wasn’t there.”
“Don’t think like that. If he had refused to drop the gun or fired again, I would have stopped him. Whether you were there or not. The only thing that was different was how fast I decided to do it; he was threatening you, but that didn’t affect my reaction itself.”
You nod, and Deacon places his hands on the vanity, caging you and keeping you close. “Don’t carry that guilt around,” he requests. “It gets heavy quickly.”
You slip your arms under Deacon’s to circle his waist. Because of your position, you look up at him and ask, “Could I have another kiss to help me overcome all of this guilt?”
Deacon laughs as his hand raises to rub your back. “Anything for my accidental CI.”
“I’m Hondo’s CI,” you remind him.
“But I’m the one that gets to kiss you, so who has the better timing?”
You let your kiss answer the question, and when Deacon pulls you against him to be even closer, you know that the wait was worth it. Though you probably won’t agree to go into the office of a weapon trafficker with him again, you will always be ready to help him when he asks and comfort him when he can’t. Despite how much you loved Deacon when you thought you could only be friends, you feel more love now that you know he feels the same.
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twst-drabbles · 4 hours
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Floyd 11
Summary: You were smoking by the window when Floyd decided now would be an amazing time to dive into the pool you had installed. In his full form. And now he won’t stop looking at you for attention. Haa, you know what, you were in need of a distraction anyway.
(Hehehe the subject is rather heavy, but Floyd is as Floyd does, saying things seemingly vague but not really. Cheeky eel.)
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You’ve been working on getting rid of the habit, you swear. Sure sure, you don’t exactly look convincing when you’re leaning on the window sill, packet of cigarettes at hand as though they never left your side and taking gentle drags like you’re trying to savor it, but this was your first cig in a while. You had this same pack for about a few months.
It’s slow going, but you’re going. Soon you’ll stop. Soon you’ll be at the point where you’ll just forget the urge to reach for your lighter. But not today. There’s too much energy in your spine and your head has been itching. Waiting. Like it’s anticipating something even though there’s nothing.
Haa… you don’t understand this. You don’t know how to fix this.
You took a slow drag and breathed out. Something within you quieted a bit and you couldn’t help but close your eyes. Wind drifted over your face. It was nice. Relaxing.
Then you heard a splash. You and your cigarette were drenched in water.
“Hey!”
You opened your eyes to see a large Floyd lounging on his slick tail, lazily waving at you like he didn’t have the energy to do anything more, despite his big, toothy grin.
You snorted out water then sighed at the sight of your useless cigarette. You dropped it in the ash tray.
You thought you were alone, since everyone is usually doing their own thing outside or in their pocket homes, but you guess you can’t always rely on the convince of routine to keep you safe. Floyd saw you, clearly, and intentionally made a splash at you.
Floyd, when he first saw you, wanted in on this bad habit of yours. But, when you said no, he basically made it his job to stop you when he sees you. It’s easy to see it as him being childish. ‘If I can’t have it, you can’t either,’ type of thing, but that’s not quite it, now is it?
You want to get rid of this bad habit, so Floyd will be the menace to get you to slow down and stop. Weird, weird eel.
Well, not like you can ask for anything else. This too was something you appreciated, as annoying as he can be.
So, when you finally noticed that Floyd’s eyes have never once left you, you figured it would best to join him, if only to keep yourself from scratching that addicting itch.
“So,” Floyd slithered right next to your knees as soon as you sat down, “what’s bothering ya? You haven’t been that careless in a while, so what’s got you smoking right where I can see you?”
“Hmm, I don’t know,” you splashed your hands, attempting to scrub out a spot in your palm, only to find that that’s just another scar that won’t fade, “It just feels like something’s nagging at me. Kinda wound up. Tight. Can’t tell you why that is, though.”
“So that’s what made you smoke?” Floyd dragged his upper body out, not caring for the water that surged and soaked your clothes, “’Cause you can’t think of anything else that’ll make you feel better?” He picked at a loose thread laying on your thigh, pulled, then snapped it off. Another place for your clothes to fray open.
Lot of them have been falling apart, actually. Huh. You never noticed how worn out your clothes have been. Guess they’re just too old to handle any more stress.
“Don’t do that,” you said, though you did nothing to stop his claws from tugging the loose end of your shorts, “Well, I guess. It just easier to de-stress with a pack around and a lighter in your pocket. Not like I know anything that’ll help me.”
You had hobbies but those become hard to keep up with when you spent all that time just looking for your lost ones. And trying to get back into them, you know you’ll be frustrated at the decay in skills. So you’d rather not bother.
“Hmm,” Floyd lowered his head and plopped it right on your lap. He started to playfully tap your knuckles with his claws. “What about me?”
His tail exited the water and curled around you.
“What about you?” you grabbed his hand and gently pushed against the webbing between his fingers. He really had the gall to pretend to think about it, like there were no other choices for him to pick from.
“You can use me,” Floyd’s smile was small, cheeky as he basically trapped you in his tail, “in any way you like. That’ll help get the stress out, right?”
You can take a guess as to what he’s talking about.
You chuckled as you leaned back.
“Alright, then I’ll use you to rest my back,” you smiled at the frown that spread on Floyd’s face, “Resting is also de-stressing.”
“…you’re no fun.” Floyd grumbled but didn’t fight it.
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kisseobie · 3 days
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making up w jongseob after an argument…🙏🏽
thank god i’m getting jongseob requests ohhhh my goddddd he makes me feel insane. he’s such a sweet boy that i feel like making up with him after an argument would be so wholesome but for the sake of hard hours!! let’s go with this..
it can either go two ways
1. you pissed him off so bad that he can’t help but fuck you into submission and remind you who you belong to
or
2. you both fucked up and said some really hurtful things to eachother in the heat of the argument, leading to tearful apologies and slow lovemaking in your bed
for the first option, i can see jongseob being very hyper-focused and calculated with his work, and when he chooses to work from your shared apartment, he can’t help but get annoyed at your constant interruptions and nagging. it’s nothing too serious, and the first few times you sparked up a conversation with him, he was happy for the break from all of his stress. eventually though, you begin to become impatient, murmuring under your breath that he isn’t giving you any attention, that he’s always too invested in work, that you’re bored and the dishes from breakfast are still not clean and he said he was gonna do them tonight! maybe he overreacts, but when you try to pull him out of his desk to spend time with you, he pulls his hand away and scolds you for not allowing him to focus, which pisses you off and leads to the two of you uselessly bickering over little things. after awhile of fighting you decide to cut the arguing short, grab your purse and keys, and make your way to the door to go anywhere away from him, but he reacts quicker, pulling you back in his direction (much to your dismay)….
after some resistance on your part, you both are able to silently sulk in the aftermath of your argument. seob surprisingly is the first to admit his wrongs, admitting that he might actually benefit from a break and that he was just being stubborn. you however, opt to be a brat, shutting down his excuses and irritating him once again. he finally decides to shuts off his pc and make his way towards you, apologies still woven into his lips as he pulls you into a hungry kiss to shut you up. it’s almost laughable how easily you melt into his embrace, but he doesn’t give you enough time to bask in the kiss before he’s pushing your back to the couch, climbing onto you, and taking off your pants in one swift motion. fucks you into oblivion, angrily thrusting into you and mocking your tears, not allowing you to apologize at this point because “weren’t you so hell bent on being a brat earlier?”. he’s not usually this dominant, this mean, but he figures you’ve forgotten basic manners and respect and he needs to fuck those principles back into you. after a few orgasms, you both lay next to each other spent, panting and making out some more before you break into a fit of giggles at how ridiculous the argument was. you definitely keep in mind, however, that if you ever want to get pounded into next week again, pissing your boyfriend off is the ideal way to go.
for the latter of the scenarios, i believe the insecurities of dating an idol could possibly catch up to you, and instead of jongseob being reassuring like he typically is, he isn’t in the best mood already and your constant questioning of his love makes him feel like he isn’t doing enough for you. tensions are high as he brushes your questions off, indirectly calling your insecurities silly, and on any other day you would agree with him and laugh at yourself for ever doubting how he feels about you, but on this instance, you take it more personal. you pause whatever movie the two of you are watching and continue to demand answers out of him, which leads to a huge fight that neither of you anticipated. the breaking point for jongseob is when you angrily ask “do you even love me?” to which he takes great offense, yelling back that “maybe i shouldn’t, i wouldn’t if i knew it was going to be this hard!”. he regrets his reply as soon as it exits his mouth but it’s no use, your eyes well up with tears and he can feel his heart sinking as he begs you to forgive him. eventually you both are in tears, with seob frantically explaining that he never meant it, that he loves you so much more than you’ll ever know, that he’s sorry he hasn’t been showing you that well enough.
when the pair of you’ve settled down from the fight and the tears have stopped spilling, jongseob pulls you into a kiss, taking breaks every now and then to whisper “i love you” against your mouth. the feelings and regrets become so overwhelming that you need to be close, need to feel each other, need to hold on to each other because you’ve never fought like this before, and kisses become hungrier as jongseob undresses you with the utmost love and care, never going a minute without telling you he loves you as your bodies connect to become one. your boyfriend’s thrusts are slow and passionate, both your eyes and fingers interlocked the entire time as the two of you continue to push apologies and words of affirmations from your lips. jongseob kisses you deeply as you both climax at the same time, the emotions only making the feeling more intense.
later, when you both have regulated your breathing, you cuddle up to eachother, jongseob peppering kisses all over your skin as he whispers more sweet nothings at the latest hours of night. your naked chests are pressed up tightly against each other, as if the two of you are afraid of letting go. jongseob strokes your bare back as you begin to fall asleep, and finally, you both feel at peace
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a/n: i rambled so much this is a mess sorry..
taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @t3ssamoodboard @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @vivienne-sim @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @cysier @fishsquishh
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calamitydaze · 24 days
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long tag ramble below u have been warned
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#ok i feel like i should say Something before i start being active again#but i dont want it to be a Statement which is why i’m putting it in the tags#(also bc i procrastinated doing this for weeks so i know this is a very stale topic by now#but i also haven’t been on tumblr literally at all so this is 100% my organic authentic opinion lmao)#so read if you gaf and ignore if you don’t#anyway: george def could’ve done more to ensure she was comfortable#and as someone who has also gotten in over my head with older men and regretted it#her hurt is valid and i’m deeply sorry she feels the way she does about that night#but with that said i see no reason to believe george Should have known how she really felt#or that he deliberately took advantage of either her youth/inexperience or her discomfort#and that’s the most important thing for me— he fucked up and misread a situation but that doesn’t make him an evil person#and i hope they can both move on and grow and heal#as for my future in the fandom: i honestly dunno how active i’ll be going forward#i was already becoming pretty disconnected so this might’ve just sped up the process? i’m tired of being put through the wringer#but i also don’t really have a fandom to replace this so i might just continue casually participating in the way i have been#either way rest assured i will never become a rabid anti. that shits embarrassing#i got HORRIBLE drolo rsd the other day when tommy’s mom needed clout and vagued him so like if nothing else. droloisms are forever#also as a last thing— this feels kinda silly and self centered to say but i will anyway#sorry for not opening up my blog as a forum for discussion again the way i did with the drituation#i know i helped a lot of people sort out their feelings and that was (and is) really really important to me#but it also tanked my mental health (mostly as a result of the fallout and not the act itself but still)#plus my life irl was pretty stressful at the time when everything was first going down#so i just didn’t feel up to putting myself through that again#but i’m sorry if anyone wanted to discuss w me but wasn’t able to#anyway. i think that’s all i have to say!#i don’t want to turn this into a capital D discussion but as always my askbox and dms are open#love you all tons! i hope you’re having a good day 🫂🫶#bella talks
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insanechayne · 4 months
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~ ~ ~
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tender-rosiey · 8 months
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“OH GOD! IT’S WALKING?!”
— baby’s first steps with gojo, nanami, geto, and sukuna (f!reader)
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GOJO SATORU:
your daughter simply adores her father, and she is almost as energetic as him. you recall multiple times when he would pick her up smiling, and she would hold his face giggling and smiling just as much.
it’s such a cute scene, and you have at least 6 similar photos.
so yeah, it doesn’t surprise you that she keeps looking at the door, waiting for him to come back from his mission.
you’re both sitting on the ground, a little distance from the door. you lightly tickle her, “you wanna see dada?”
she looks up to you then looks to the door and murmurs, “dada.”
“he will be here soon; I promise,” you press a kiss to her cheek, and she squeals. soon, the door clicks and it slowly opens to reveal your dear husband who’s holding what you think are bags of sweets, toys, and souvenirs.
“the world’s best dad and husband is here!” he announces brightly. quickly, you get your phone out to record yet another cute moment between your daughter and your husband.
however, neither you nor your husband expected your little girl to stand up excitedly and try to waddle her way to her dad.
“dada! dada!” she says as she hurriedly stumbles and waddles her way to him.
satoru kneels down on the ground, opening his arms widely as he grins, “yes, dada! come to dada, baby!”
successfully, the girl stumbles into satoru’s arms and giggles as he peppers her face with kisses.
he looks up to you with a pout, shifting d/n into one arm, “excuse me, but I would like my two favorite girls to be in my arms, right now!”
you chuckle and settle into his embrace and he presses a kiss to the top of her head and your own.
d/n gives him a kiss—more like simply put her mouth on his cheek—and nuzzles into his chest. satoru grins before looking at you, “she is so cute!”
you quip with a big smile, “I got that on video!”
“you and your gorgeous mind,” he hums as he kisses your cheek.
NANAMI KENTO:
“kento, you’re going to grow grey hair early like this.”
honestly, you can’t blame him for worrying like this. you were finally going on vacation, so your husband wanted everything to be organized.
the last thing he needs is a headache after he finally got rid of the walking one (read: gojo).
he sits down, sighing, “I know; I just don’t want anything to go wrong.”
you chuckle, and settle down beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “don’t worry,” you say, “we checked everything over a million times. nothing will go wrong.”
nanami smiles tiredly before pulling you into a gentle kiss, “well, I guess you’re right,” he looks around for a moment, “where is d/n?”
“she is playing with her toys on the mat; why?”
“she is not on the mat.”
“she is not on the what?!” you yell, bolting out of your seat and frantically searching for her, “d/n, honey, where are you?!”
“y/n, calm down!” your husband tries to comfort you, “she is still in the house, so don’t stress about it; we will find her.”
as if on cue, a giggle and a coo are heard behind nanami. he turns to find the culprit, his 10 months old girl grinning. she squeals and tries to walk towards him, hands eagerly reaching out for him.
she is stumbling a bit, and her steps are clumsy, and nanami couldn’t have been prouder.
he smiles fondly, “good girl, d/n,” he opens his arms, encouraging, “you can do it.”
she flails her arms as she giggles, “da-dada!”
d/n finally reaches his leg and holds onto it for dear life. she starts swaying as she looks up at him, “dada!” he bends down to kiss the top of her head.
she hums happily, before waddling towards you, worried, “mama?”
you breathe a sigh of relief and hold her in your arms, “you got me worried, baby,” you stroke her hair and she nuzzles into your embrace, little hands gripping your shirt tightly.
nanami lets out a chuckle as he watches your daughter starts to fall asleep in your arms.
he moves to hug you two, and hums with content, “and you say that I am the worrywart.”
GETO SUGURU:
“y/n, what makes you so sure that they will start walking soon?” your husband says as he watches his two little girls play in the garden.
he already had nanako and mimiko, but god chose to grace him with his own pair of twins.
he couldn’t be happier, especially with way the twins both care for each other and beam whenever they see him.
he also adores seeing them play with you; it brings a type of serenity to his heart.
you chuckle, “call it a mother’s instincts.”
suguru rolls his eyes and pulls you by the waist, “you showing off, pretty?”
“nope! just asserting dominance.”
with a roll of his eyes, he gives you a peck on the nose. the both of you then settle down on the grass as well, quietly watching the girls try to chase—wait what chase?
suguru and you lock eyes, and he quickly scrambles to get the camera. meanwhile, you’re trying to encourage the girls to continue their walking, “who’s winning, girls?”
each one of the stumbling babies yells out a—supposedly—‘me!’. they‘re both squealing as they walk around.
soon enough, suguru makes an appearance and starts recording, “I am gonna get you!”
the girls squeal and try their best to run away from the big bad monster.
the very cute thing that even has suguru pausing in his chase is that when one of them falls, the other waits for her or tries to help her up.
of course, the latter mostly results in both of them falling on their small little bums. luckily, they clumsily stand up instead of crying their eyes out.
they get tired eventually though, so they waddle their way to you. both of them sit beside you and rest their heads on your lap.
suguru stands in front of you, hands on his hips, “you leaving me out of this group cuddle?”
your twins perk up and turn their heads to peak at him and they giggle when he pouts. still, they open their little arms for their dad to join the family hug, “dada! hug!”
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
your husband is not exactly the most enthusiastic father.
he wasn’t that affected by your son’s first word being dada, and a lot of things that you can’t be bothered to think about.
so yeah, you’re left with the role to be the encouraging parent, and to hype your son whenever he accomplishes something.
so obviously, your son adores you more than he does his father. however, there is no denying that sukuna’s genes are indeed strong.
despite the kid’s beaming smile, he could be choking a snake. it actually reminds you of that one hercules scene.
your son also has a quicker development than most kids, but it doesn’t lessen the excitement when he finally took his first steps.
you held onto sukuna’s arms, pointing at your boy, “sukuna, look, he is walking!”
“so?”
you pause then look at your husband, “what do you mean ‘so’?” you grin, “they’re his first steps, you silly goose!”
sukuna frowns, “I am not a silly goose,” he then rolls his eyes, “he was going to start walking sooner or later anyway, woman.”
you huff, “you’re no fun.”
however, you don’t get to dwell on it for much longer as you hear the scream of one of the servants. you and your husband are looking towards them, and—suffice to say—it’s a memorable scene.
your son, who just started walking, is somehow holding a wooden pickaxe and waddling his way behind the servant.
he is grinning and squealing too like he isn’t about to beat up an innocent person (it reminds you of something or rather someone).
the servant is surprisingly terrified form the kid as she screams, “my lady, please save me!”
you have no idea how a grown woman is terrified of a one year old, but you will give her the benefit of the doubt that he is, after all, the son of the king of curses.
you sigh with a chuckle and walk towards them, “on my way.”
the kid squeals, waddling quicker after the servant who’s about to shit her pants.
meanwhile, sukuna is smirking proudly as he watches his son, “now, that’s my kid.”
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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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goldensunset · 8 months
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aarraRRFHGHGGHHRAAAAAGHHGGGGGG
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satoruxx · 1 month
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pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.2k words summary: boyfriend!toji again, fluff, soft!toji, grumpy x sunshine, that obligatory sick fic, bickering, affectionate scolding, pet names, this is very self-indulgent !! rheya's note: had this written for so long and never posted it oops !! but yeah resident grump worrying over his fav what's new?
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toji knows something is off as soon as he steps into his apartment. he comes to the conclusion almost immediately, because he isn’t greeted like he normally is when he comes home.
normally, he’ll push the door open and you’ll trip over yourself as you stand from the couch, a giddy smile on your face as you jump into his arms. and being the asshole that he is, toji never hesitates to grumble about it, clicking his tongue as he says things along the lines of “dammit kid one day i won’t catch you” or “jeez baby let me get in the house” or something similar. but despite all that his hands will still be attached to you, rubbing your back as he smothers an amused chuckle against your hair.
but not today. today he’s greeted by quiet and emptiness—a clear lack of you. he had opened the door ready to catch you in his arms, but all he can do is raise a brow at the silence. as much as he normally complains about it, this absence makes his gut churn. he pushes all that aside, more concerned than anything as he drops his jacket onto the couch and heads for the bedroom.
toji is nothing if not observant, paranoid as his eyes dart from corner to corner of the small apartment. it’s ingrained into him—this fear that his past will come back to haunt him and take you away in the most brutal way imaginable. but he tries to ignore that, continuing to head down the hall until he pushes the bedroom door open.
his shoulders drop in relief, seeing you laying on your stomach, face buried in the pillows, and he lets out a sigh. he sees you shift a little, signaling that you’re awake, so he takes a few steps forward.
toji climbs onto the bed and lays down next to you, dropping a heavy arm over your back. “what’s wrong?”
“don’t feel good,” you answer back. toji’s brows furrow, and he manages to push his free palm against your forehead. heat pulses against his skin, and his frown deepens.
“the fuck did you do to yourself?” he asks, not unkindly but still stern—you can only glare at him hazily.
“it’s not my fault!”
“uh huh,” toji rolls his eyes, threading his fingers through your sweaty hair and pushing it back from your forehead. “so me telling you to put some layers on when you go out in the cold has nothing to do with this?”
you huff, face heating under his pointed stare, and all you can do is shove his hand away, before pathetically burying your face into the sheets again. “shut up.”
“don’t be a brat.” toji lets out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head indulgently. “it’s your fault for not listening to me.”
“if you’re just gonna lecture me, go away,” you complain, cheek pressed into the pillow. toji snorts, though his hand rubs what you assume to be soothing circles on your back.
“who’s gonna make sure your dumbass doesn’t get into more trouble?”
another indignant huff, and toji only chuckles. “alright c’mon kid. let’s get you in better shape, yeah?” he grunts, looping his arm around your waist and tugging you up. you immediately protest, whining out a plethora of curses attached to his name, and he rolls his eyes. “okay, alright shut up.”
he maneuvers your body into sitting position, leaning you up against the pillows and pulling the blankets up with furrowed brows—meticulous in a way that he is only with very few things.
“you eat anything today?” he asks, still fussing over the blankets, and you gulp quietly. one look and toji’s frown grows deeper. “kid.” the word comes out stressed, like a scolding, and you wince.
“i didn’t feel like it,” you groan, trying not to wilt under his pointed glare.
“don’t care,” he huffs. “your body needs energy, stupid.”
“rude,” you mutter, crossing your arms and toji rolls his eyes.
“whine all you want—“ he stands up, rolling his neck until he hears a satisfying crack. “—still gonna make you eat something. soup okay?”
you don’t want to admit how tempting it sounds, so with an unrelenting amount of stubbornness you glare at him. “fine.”
his lips quirk upward into a smug little grin, and you try to refrain from throwing something at him. he pats your leg. “alright.”
he heads into the kitchen, leaving you to your thoughts. you hear the occasional sounds of cooking and utensils and before long, the comforting smell of soup wafts through the apartment. you try not to show toji how your mouth is watering when he walks back in, a bowl in his palm.
“here,” he grunts, propping a knee onto the bed that dips under his weight. “eat up, doll.”
you sigh, already hating the feeling of the cool sheets when you move even slightly to reach for it.
“you gonna make me spoon feed you?” toji’s brow quirks—smug, and obviously amused.
“i can do it myself thank you—” you try to take the bowl from him with a glare but he raises it out of your reach and clicks his tongue.
“will y’just let me do this one thing for you, jeez,” he complains, glaring down his nose at you.
you cross your arms with a huff, tone going slightly apologetic. “i feel bad—”
“why the fuck do you feel bad?” he asks sharply, eyes narrowed and confused and caught off guard like you’ve said the most out of pocket thing.
“because—” you stress, throwing your hands up miserably. “you were out on these crazy missions—probably tired as hell. and instead of relaxing you have to come home and take care of me because i was too stupid to look after myself.”
toji groans, putting the bowl on the bedside table before sitting on the bed completely. “kid,” he says emphatically, taking your face in his palms firmly. “how many times do i need to tell you this? i don’t mind lookin’ out for you.”
“yeah but—”
“no shut up,” he snaps, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. “you always worry about bothering me or inconveniencing me or some other crap like that. i’m telling you—don’t.”
his thumbs gently press into the apples of your cheeks, and your lips part under his pointed gaze.
“i like doin’ shit for you, okay? ‘n takin’ care of you when you’re sick? that’s nothing.” his lips tug into a lopsided smirk. “who else is gonna look out for you anyway?”
you purse your lips, throat going tight because toji rarely talks like this—so honestly open. and though you’re sure that many people out there would say he’s harsh and mean and not good for you, it’s things like this that prove how wrong they are.
“what’s wrong? did i break your brain?” toji asks, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your head, and you huff out a laugh, pushing his arm away.
“shut up,” you mutter, falling into his chest heavily. he chuckles, low and throaty as he pats your back.
“you up for eating now?” you can feel him reaching for the bowl, and you smile against him, pressing your face further into his warmth because toji will always be nothing but safe for you.
“in a minute,” you answer, looping your arms around his waist. he sighs, shaking his head but he doesn’t say anything else.
but you think you can feel him smile against your hair as he drops a chaste kiss to your forehead—you don’t tell him that though.
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onlyswan · 4 months
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summary: in which jungkook gets his motorcycle license and you don’t believe in fate.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, a dash of angst / word count: 5.5k
content/warnings: protective!bf jungkook 🫡 / jk gives oc h*ckeys / jk is sad and scared bc many couples r breaking up :( then he gets h*rny and i can’t blame him bc oc is hot / oc loves short skirts n jk is stressed / oc gets an anxiety attack !! bc they thought jk got into an accident / bam cameo <3
> in which masterlist!
note: ART REPORTING FOR DUTY 🫡 it’s been a while so i feel quite rusty and my brain is fried pls bear with me </3 i’m excited to post regularly again and get back into the flow hehe. as always feedback and reblogs are appreciated! 🥺
it is a rather calm afternoon in your shared apartment. you and jungkook may be together in the living room, but you’re each spending your alone time.
you’re sitting on the couch with bam’s head on your lap, your not-so-little baby sleeping soundly. you indulge yourself in a fashion magazine, occasionally lifting your head when you sense your boyfriend staring at you longingly from the desk. he would quickly avert his eyes to feign obliviousness, switching between the laptop or his phone to busy himself.
“babe, spit it out.” you giggle, lowering down the magazine from your face. “is there something wrong…? what do you want?”
“no, it’s nothing. just ignore me.”
“then you’re going to be upset with me when i actually do it?”
“yah! that’s not true!” he looks at you wide-eyed, chest puffing up in defense. “it’s really nothing, okay? you can go back to reading.”
“mkay, whatever you say… i’m not reading, though.”you mumble the last sentence, burying your nose in the magazine again.
with a glittery golden-inked pen, you draw a star beside a bag from the spring/summer collection that you fell in love with at first sight. you hear the clacking of the keyboard pause and resume, pause and resume, but you ignore your boyfriend’s beseeching glances like he asked you to.
minutes pass by on the clock as you flip the pages with twinkling eyes and silent squeals, but they feel like hours to jungkook.
he blinks at the laptop screen as he sinks his teeth on his bottom lip.
he just needs to do it— get it over with. whatever it is, he’s certain that the two of you could reach some sort of compromise… right?
he puts on a face of determination before wheeling the gaming chair towards where you are. and with no one to blame but himself, he releases a disgruntled noise when he collides with the leather couch. the impact sends him a couple of feet away from his destination, but his hands find purchase on your exposed thighs and he brings himself back to you.
his clinginess never fails to fill your stomach with butterflies.
you smile in secret, silent as he hooks his arms underneath your knees and lies his head beside bam’s. he kisses bam’s forehead, and in a somewhat twisted way, you are grateful for all the times the universe tugged at the string of joy and made you chase after it, because it led you here.
he has folded himself in a position that looks wildly uncomfortable, but jungkook likes to torture his senses for some reason, so you let him be. you pretend that no one has invaded your space, attached theirself to you so close that you’re carrying a quarter of their weight; feeling tickled by their exhales against your skin.
you planned to mix yourself a cocktail halfway through your magazine, but that is pushed to the bottom of things you can do now that your boyfriend is displeased with the lack of attention from his lover.
“this won’t do!”
his impatience forces him out of the chair and onto the couch, where he sneaks his strong arms around your waist. the movements shakes bam awake from his slumber. the doberman sits up, tiredly blinks at his father as if he is so done, and leaps off the couch to strut to his house.
jungkook scratches his head guiltily. “bam! dad is sorry that he disturbed your sleep!”
to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t receive a reply.
“oh, bam, are you mad at me…? you can’t be, right? you must understand… we both really love ____, don’t we?”
but he does receive one from you— a fond gaze that thinks of him bizarre.
“he’s not mad!” he defends himself.
“he should be. we were having a peaceful time together.”
“yah, that’s so mean. i’m part of this family too!” he complains with a scowl. “i want to cuddle.”
“no one’s stopping you, babe.”
this time, he hides his face in the crook of your neck.
he breathes you in, and his mind becomes clouded with the natural scent of you, so uniquely you, sweet and fresh like the clouds on a spring day, mixed with a hint of strawberries. humans smell fragrant flowers and break off their stems. jungkook smells you and he bites, sinks his teeth on your skin, sucks, again and again, and then soothes the ache with a slow and gentle slide of his tongue, but it doesn’t erase the marks that blossom into a hue of a bruise.
he licks his lips, wet with saliva, feeling cocky with the memory of your sharp inhales— cockier when he lifts his head and sees the dilation of your pupils behind a curtain of haze.
however, they’re still trained towards the fashion items printed on paper that you so desperately wish would materialize into thin air.
he groans.
“baaaaby,”
“mhmmm?” you mimic the tone of his whine, resting your head on his shoulder— just to be closer, let him know you’re here and you’re listening.
he clears his throat, prepares for the worst.
“these days, there’s something i’ve been thinking of a lot… i’ve been researching here and there, too…”
“about?”
“motorcycles…”
“okay,”
“okay?”
bewildered by your nonchalant response, he pulls away to squint at you in suspicion.
“…i’m planning to buy one and get a license? like, maybe next week?”
“okay,” you repeat yourself.
hit with a twinge of confusion, you briefly tear your eyes away from the beautiful gowns worn by beautiful models.
“are you telling me or are you asking me?”
“uh- uhm,” he stutters. “i’m telling you.”
“alright then,”
his chest puffs up as he inhales sharply. “that’s it?!”
“what do you want me to say?” you flip a page, a flicker of amusement flashing across your face. “you’re not allowed to…? i mean- sure, i can do that, too.“
“no, no, no, no, no-” he kisses your cheek— nearly, barely, he’s smiling too big to do it properly. “no, really! are you serious?”
“why won’t you believe me?” the magazine lands on your lap as you cross your arms in annoyance. “what do you think of me?”
“i heard couples really fight about this in particular, though?” he chuckles, and it’s your pouted lips’ turn to be granted a kiss. “sorry, i assumed you won’t approve of this one. you’re so strict with me about driving safely.”
“it’s no problem because i know you’re responsible. i just get worried sometimes,” you mumble. “when you’re tired from work.”
“i know,”
“good,” you sigh, leaning into him to steal a kiss yourself. “can i just ask you for one thing then?”
“yes,” he nods eagerly. “anything.”
“if i find out that you didn’t wear a helmet one time…” you tuck your bottom lip in between your teeth, unsure what type of reaction you will elicit. “you’re getting rid of it.”
“three times-”
“oh my god, absolutely not!”
the sheer horror painted on your face further fuels his mischief.
“twice?”
“you said anyth-”
“please?”
“no! then i’m getting rid of it myself!”
you shove his shoulder, and he allows himself to fall flat on the couch before bouncing back with the mission to ease your mind.
“i’m just joking, baby!” his giggles fill the entire apartment.
he cages your face in his hands but you stubbornly resist.
“i’m joking- i’m joking. i’m sorry. come here, give me a kiss.”
he makes a smooching sound with his puckered lips and you send an unimpressed glare in return.
“promise me first,” your fingers wrap around his wrist to deny his affectionate advances. “one time!”
“i promise!”
“and you won’t get angry at me?”
and with that, his heart begins to ache in his chest. the shift in your voice, the nervousness blanketed by softness… fuck.
“how hard can that possibly be?”
he just remembered how upset you were when he got himself infected after visiting a tattoo shop in america. you told him it would probably be best to do more research on the place, but he isn’t jungkook if he isn’t stubborn. it was hell, to say the least. being in pain and fighting with you for days. you would tend to him and the silence would rub salt on the wound.
today, however, he was more than prepared to defend his case in the event that he faces rejection.
he doesn’t.
on the contrary, he is a given a gift.
“i hate you,” you whimper, but your words contradict the way you respond to his kisses— the sharpness of them has been dulled by his tongue. he tastes like the green apple lollipop that you completely forgot you left on the desk four days ago.
he draws back with a playful grin.
thief… your kisses and your candy and your body and your heart. all his.
“huh, you don’t mean that.”
“i do!”
“i love you,” he utters tenderly. “i trust you to set me straight when i need to get my shit together.”
“then you understand that i just don’t want it to become a habit, right…?”
what does he think of you? a person who treats him with utmost gentleness, supports his happiness, and worries about his safety— a person more important to him than himself.
“and even if it’s only one time… we never know what’s going to happen. i wouldn’t be able to bear seeing you outside the celebrity segment of the news. jungkook, i swear.” you pray that he doesn’t hear the crack in your voice, disguising it with a layer of humor. “i will lose my mind.”
“of course i understand! that won’t ever happen, baby! i want to tell you not to worry too much, but… but to be honest… i think i will be more upset if you don’t lecture me about this kind of thing at all.”
“really?”
“yes. because then doesn’t that mean you no longer care about me?”
this whole time, you’ve been saying i don’t want you to get hurt i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you, and he hears you clearly— like how one recognizes their favorite song playing in public even from far away.
you smile sheepishly. “show me the motorcycle you want.”
your outspoken interest makes jungkook’s face light up like a christmas tree.
“there’s actually a few that i’m looking at…” he trails off, running back to the desk to grab his laptop.
“i’ll help you choose!” you clap your hands excitedly. “is there a pink one?”
“pink?!” he exclaims, which is then followed by endeared laughter. “you want it?”
you assume that he is going to ignore the silly idea, that is until he returns to his seat beside you.
“sure, there should be one somewhere.” he whispers, more to himself, typing away on the keyboard to feed your curiosity.
“really? really?” you babble, clinging to his arm to take a peek at the screen.
“hmmm,” he hums. “get a license too and i’ll buy it for you.”
a sound of disapproval bubbles in your throat. “eh, not for me. i want you to use it.”
jungkook dramatically pauses. he stares at you, doe eyes infront of blazing headlights.
he releases a burdened sigh.
“why me?!”
“bend over,” jungkook commands sternly, standing arms crossed infront of the bedroom door to deny your exit. “right now.”
“eh?” you gape at him. “but aren’t we goi-”
“i said turn around, baby.”
you’re left with no choice when his patience runs thin and he captures your hand— it comes so naturally when you twirl on your toes as if you’re waltzing to a slow love song. he pushes you forward gently, and you carry your innate grace all the way to the arch of your back.
jungkook swallows down a moan elicited by the tantalizing view, clearing his throat. he masks the sound by unceremoniously spanking your ass, the skin-to-skin contact also causing a sharp sting to spread across his palm.
“shit- i knew it, it’s too short.” he tugs your skirt down, a useless attempt at concealing your white lace underwear. he harshly breathes out in exasperation. “baby, i can see everything! you can’t ride a motorcycle wearing this!“
“what? motorcycle?! i can finally ride it?!”
you only heard one word come out of your boyfriend’s mouth, it seems.
you flip in excitement, facing him again with a smile as bright as the sunny sky outside. “you got your license? why didn’t you tell me?!”
“i was going to surprise you but-”
he still looks stressed out, eyes trained to your skirt- well, your legs. the skirt is barely there.
“going back here from the parking lot to change would be-”
“but it’s miu miu,” you quietly remark, looking down at the article of clothing with a frown. “it’s not that short…”
“look at the mirror,” he points to your left with his eyes, but then he is already carrying you by the curves of your waist so that your back is facing it.
you bend down on your own, and jungkook clicks his tongue when you only giggle heartily upon seeing your own reflection.
“it’s fiiine! you’re there to protect me. i just won’t bend down.”
“but won’t you get cold?”
“nope!” you reply without a second to spare. “for fashion, i never get cold.”
it’s been more than five years since he met you; jungkook knows damn well that is very far from the truth. not a single autumn and winter have passed that he didn’t lend you his jacket, his warmth, and then some more, simply because you refuse to stop wearing skirts until you’re at the verge of freezing to death.
alright, maybe he’s being dramatic, and you’re stubborn as hell.
“and i’m wearing my tall boots,” you raise your leg in a straight line to show off the leather brown boots that stop below your knees. “look, look… don’t i look cute?”
cute? such a word won’t do you justice. you’re acting like he’s not also looking at your panties.
“of course,” a soft smile replaces his hardened features. “you look so beautiful, baby.”
“hm, thought so,” you scrunch your nose, and his heart skips a beat.
damn, but that- there’s definitely no other word to describe it but the word cute.
“but how about, let’s say, wearing a coat over it?”
“jungkook! no!” you grunt, punching his arm- but then a lightbulb illuminates your brain.
“or shorts under it-”
“oh my god, i think you have one that matches. i remember i saw it the other day-”
“no, wait, wait, wait- shorts are safer! ____!”
you sprint back to the walk-in closet, leaving jungkook alone in the bedroom.
“come back here!”
he jerks his head in distress, rubbing his eyes harshly with his tattooed knuckles.
“ah, ____!”
“what?!” you yell, voice bouncing off the walls of your apartment. “i found it!”
“is it too tight?” jungkook inquires, looking up to you from the floor.
you bend your knees to assess the tightness of knee pads. “nope, it’s good.”
he proceeds to grab the elbows pads he hung over the handle of the motorcycle.
“hmmm, next… you wear these instead.”
you pout, recalling that he forgot his riding jacket at work yesterday. “but what about you?”
“i only have one pair.” he says. “it’s fine, it’s just for now. let’s pick up my jacket at the company before going to the museum.”
“how about let’s wear one each?”
upon processing the mechanics of your suggestion, his tall and broad frame shakes with mirth.
you obviously grew up with little siblings. they were so lucky to have you.
“hey! what are you laughing at?”
“nothing, you’re just cute.” he chuckles, wrapping the other protective pad around your left elbow. “just wear them both. i’m confident with my driving but… i still need you as safe as possible, baby.”
“but jungkook! what if y-” you whine out a protest, which he instantly silences by slipping your helmet over your head. “ugh, you’re so rude!”
he beams with pride as he clips its straps beneath your chin. “wow, it fits so perfectly? i only guessed… ah, as expected of jeon jungkook.”
his hand freezes on the visor when you strike him with the beady eyes, pouting your lips to request for a kiss, which he grants— more than willingly. gladly. happily. with pleasure.
cruising through the city on a motorbike with the love of his life; going on dates; putting on your helmet for you and learning how to angle his face for when he steals a kiss— he used to only witness this in romance films.
at the end of the day he’s just a simple man, jungkook admits.
what a dream come true.
it definitely becomes clearer to jungkook today— why you did not oppose the idea of him getting a motorcycle license on such short notice.
“this is so cool!“ you squeal behind him, subconsciously raising the pitch of your voice to contest with the wind and the roaring engines.
“____, be careful,” he chides you. “or else i’ll slow down!”
a sense of relief washes over him as you readjust your arms around his waist, your weight resting on him ironically making his chest feel lighter.
if only jungkook could protect you by keeping you bubblewrapped at all times, he would.
“you’re enjoying this more than i expected.”
the two of you idle before a red light. he balances the two-wheeled vehicle with his left foot planted on the ground.
“is it fun?”
“so much fun!” you gush, enthusiasm overflowing past the seams of your lips. “you already drive like a pro!”
“of course! i studied hard! i don’t plan on putting you in danger with my stupidity!”
“still-” you interject. “you’re just good at everything.”
while he is aware that he is gifted in many ways, technically speaking, jungkook knows he can’t possibly be good at everything. but hearing it come from the person he love and adore most in the world? he can’t help but to allow it to inflate his ego a little bit.
ten seconds before the traffic light turns green.
his smirk is hidden inside his helmet, but you can masterfully envision it in your head just from the transparent smugness in his voice.
“time to hold on again, baby.”
“i think you just like me feeling you up.” you muse.
you teasingly slip one hand underneath his shirt to caress his toned stomach, and he hisses out a curse. with how strict you are about road safety, one would assume that you would restrain on being frisky while riding a vehicle thirty times more dangerous than a car. you either have too much in trust your boyfriend or you underestimate your effect on him.
in his case, double the thirty.
the engine roars to life and the wheels screech against the concrete road. your gentle touch turns into a bruising grip on his waist.
jungkook thinks that you might be right. he would never miss an opportunity to feel your skin on his skin. he selfishly decides then and there— he now prefers motorycle rides with you.
it doesn’t take you long to catch up to that fact. when he tells you wear something comfortable, you also know not to spend too much time doing something cute with your hair because the helmet will just turn it into a tousled mess. for the past two months, he has been calling you every night to ask whether you want to be picked up from work with the bike or the car, because as much as you both relish in the thrill and the wind and the intimacy, sometimes you fall asleep on the way home from exhaustion and he doesn’t want you… quite literally falling on the streets of seoul.
but today is your day-off, and with your head hanging from the edge of the bed, you tear your attention away from your phone to find jungkook is upside down. he stands outside the bedroom door hugging your rainbow hello kitty plushie to his chest, frowning woefully with a cause you are clueless about.
the contrast of his black t-shirt with the rainbow makes you crack a smile, reminiscent of the countless memes you’ve seen on the internet. you find it funny, but mostly endearing. because you’re the one who loves colors but dreams of nightmares, while he loves dark colors but dreams of stars, fairies, and soaring through skies and different dimensions. you don’t believe in fate. however, jungkook believes that it was fate that brought him to you, and that you are the person he is destined with. you don’t believe in fate, but you wholeheartedly, unequivocally believe in him.
“i was watching the news-” he huffs, seemingly perplexed. “why is everyone breaking up all of a sudden?”
“who broke up?”
he freezes, attempting to recall the names that flashed across the television screen only minutes ago. “i honestly don’t know them, but still!”
“then why are you pouting?”
he doesn’t answer. instead, he carelessly tosses the plushie on the bed before climbing on it, sneaking his arms between your torso and the mattress to engulf you in a bone-crushing embrace. your phone slips away from your grip, buried somewhere in the sheets, but when big bundle of love and warmth is over you, it’s impossible to be consumed by anything else.
you weave your fingers through his hair, whispering teasingly. “scared of being in the headlines too?”
“scared…” he agrees, then he doesn’t. “of losing you.”
he scoots closer to nuzzle his face against your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin.
“i-it’s just,” he pauses. “ah, i don’t know! nevermind, forget it.”
“no, tell me. it’s okay.” your hands cup his cheeks, coaxing him to look at you. “tell me what’s bothering you. whatever it is. i’ll listen.”
there’s a glint of melancholy on his glassy eyes, and you desperately want to know what brought forth this pain so you can take it all away. your heart shatters when his nose scrunches into a sniffle, skin becoming more flushed, a shade of red that dusts his skin only when he cries.
“when couples break up after a long time… many of them say…” he trails off, held back by uncertainty.
“they say?” you urge him to continue, pretending to be absorbed in fixing his hair— running your fingers through the soft locks, rearranging his bangs, trying to see if they’re long enough to be tucked behind his ears— all in an indulgent effort to show him that this type of conversation doesn’t need to be awkward or intense.
“they say that… that they just woke up one day and- and realized they were no longer-” his lips curve into a frown, deeper than before, and you mirror him without knowing. “happy, or in love.”
he breathes shakily, avoiding your eyes to gather himself together.
fuck, jeon jungkook. man up! are you seriously going to cry right now? like this?
“and we’ve been together for five years.”
“almost five,” you correct him with a sweet smile, poking his soft cheek right where one of his dimples would be. “our anniversary is right around the corner.”
the unadulterated joy you radiated as you spoke those words makes the trepidation in his brain glitch.
“sorry, i couldn’t help myself. please continue.”
he licks his lips, and then opens his mouth but- “i’ve lost my train of thought.”
“oh my god, i’m sorry.”
“for what?”
“you were talking about something serious.” you wince guiltily.
“our anniversary is something serious too!” he points out, pouting cutely.
“yes, but… it’s a different story, breakups are- jungkook! why are you suddenly laughing?!” you sputter, shoving him away in annoyance when you hear a snort in the midst of his uncontrollable giggles. “what’s so funny…? you were just so close to crying!”
he shakes his head profusely, collapsing over you, but he ends up rolling over to the side so he can lie on his back and clutch at his aching belly.
“ah, ____! my heart fluttered when you mentioned our anniversary. i totally forgot what i was talking about!”
if it fluttered earlier, now it goes absolutely wild in his ribcage.
your positions are switched before he can comprehend it— you’re now on all fours on top of him. his head is trapped in between your arms and your gold necklace is dangling over his face and you’re straddling his lap and now it’s getting harder to breathe and not picture obscene images that involve you worshipping his body.
he probably likes this way too much than he cares to admit.
“do you see it now?”
he purses his lips, obviously distracted, controlled by his desire for you as he finds the curves of your waist to caress. “see what?”
“that you don’t need to be anxious about us not being happy in the future, because we’re happy right now.”
he cannot detect an ounce of hesitation even if he tried. you are steady. you are sure. something intangible and inexplicable floods your souls when your eyes meet, but the two of you know that it exists and it is real.
“fuck… i love you. i fucking love you so much.” his voice borders on a growl, and a whimper escapes your lips just before they crash against his for a kiss so full of passion that it completely catches you offguard. he pulled you down so swiftly that your hands anchored on the bed scrambled for his forearms to break your fall, nails digging into his skin as you balance yourself.
jungkook isn’t much for words, but something in him always wants more. he likes to speak with his tongue in a way so sweet that it compels you to abandon your vocabularies in the farthest back of your mind.
you sit down on his lap breathless after making out. your boyfriend watches you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, slipping his hands underneath his head as he cockily grins in satisfaction.
you roll your eyes at the sight of his biceps being shamelessly flexed. “bastard,”
“bastard you’re crazy about,”
“unfortunately,” you sigh with faux disappointment, hugging the hello kitty plushie you picked up from the floor.
“want to go for a ride?”
“to where?”
“anywhere,” he shrugs. “it’s already late so there shouldn’t be traffic anymore.”
you jump off the bed without another word, returning a minute later clad in a black harley davidson jacket. you look so fucking chic and attractive in it, he always pats himself on the back for buying it for you.
jungkook would go against all laws of the universe if it meant spending a hundred more almost five years with you, until the hello kitty plushie you’re still hugging becomes gray and unrecognizable.
“babe, why are you still staring at me like that? i’m ready!”
from the entrance, jungkook discerns your familiar figure pacing back and forth across your designated parking spaces. you appear to be engrossed in your phone as you nibble on your thumb, which he knows to be a tell-tale sign of your anxiety. you just got your nails done, and for the first three days, you’re usually very conscious of messing them up.
you fail to notice the loud presence of his motorcycle, not until he has successfully parked and pushed down its side stand on the ground.
“baby! what are you doing out here?”
he lifts off the helmet, ruffling his hair to tame it. and as he brushes his stubborn bangs away from his eyes, that’s when he sees his lover overcome with distraught.
his heart drops to his stomach.
your eyes are filled with unshed tears, chin trembling with the struggle of holding them back.
“jungkook!” you wail out his name, and you haven’t cried this loud since you were sixteen.
an unnamed neighbor walks by the scene and says to theirself, somebody must’ve died.
“yah- why? why, why, why?” he stumbles over his own words in panic, carelessly hanging the helmet on one of the handles of the motorcycle as he gets off. “what’s wrong? baby? what happened?”
you hide your face in the palms of your cold yet clammy hands, ashamed by the surge of your emotions flooding the parking lot as acid rain, but a sense of safety blankets you when jungkook gingerly tugs you towards him.
“i thought something bad happened to you! a car hit a motorcycle nearby- and i thou- i really thought-”
“oh, that’s right! how did you know?” he gasps. “i passed by them earlier. there were so many people and police officers.”
“jungkook!” you snap, hitting his chest in frustration.
“sorry- i’m sorry! okay, that was insensitive of me- fuck.” he rambles, and you visibly cringe when his glove-clad hands touch your face.
the texture, and only god knows all the places it’s been…
“there’s no need to cry, baby! i’m already here, aren’t i? i’m so healthy. there’s not a single scratch on me.”
he hastily takes off his jacket to reveal himself in a white sleeveless shirt. spotless that it looks brand-new.
“see? all good!“
you fall silent. your eyes frantically scan his body, but your brain doesn’t really register anything that you perceive.
“aigoo, why are you shaking so much?”
he can’t bear to watch you in this state. he feels nauseous, almost, like his gut is being twisted and wrung in different ways.
“my baby must’ve been so worried about me, is that right? come here.”
in the solace of jungkook’s embrace, wrapped in his strong arms that are, praise heavens, not broken, the pounding of your heart gradually returns to normal.
his, however, becomes louder. and these days he likes to believe that he is no longer the crybaby he once was, but his skin feels flushed as tears fills his eyes, because damn, what a blessing it is to be loved by you.
he leans on the motorcycle, lovingly rocking you back and forth with shushes and soft hums.
time flies by when you are floating, but jungkook is patient as he waits for you to land and come home to him, even when his feet have fallen asleep.
“you haven’t forgotten your promise?” you whisper.
“never not wear a helmet,” he coos, pressing his lips to your temple. “of course i haven’t forgotten.”
“good,” you mumble, drawing back. “go home and shower. you’re all so sweaty.”
“i will. i feel so sticky.” he chortles. “this is so annoying. i hate summer!”
you continue to cling to jungkook all the way to the apartment unit, arms circled around his torso and soft cheek smushed against his back. snuggling him from behind like a koala does a tree is a newly-discovered joy. and if you were single you would be rolling your eyes at a person for saying this, but it is quite wonderful to have a boyfriend for a pillow that is also a blanket. has anyone invented that?
“you know, i regret not getting a motorcycle earlier.”
“why?”
the door opens with a short jovial jingle as a signal.
“i saw someone with a puppy in a basket this morning. it was even wearing goggles! it was really cute!” he laments, dragging you along with him into the living room. “ah, i’m an idiot. why didn’t i think of that? we could’ve done that with bam!”
you form the mental image of tiny baby bam wearing tiny goggles and a tiny leather jacket, and then another, but with the current bam.
“but bam is already as big as the bike!” you dissolve into laughter.
jungkook grunts, and you can’t tell whether he’s genuinely feeling this regretful or he’s just trying to distract you after you broke down with the mind-numbing anxiety of losing him forever.
“exactly!”
you sink into the couch, instinctively reaching for the hello kitty plushie to hug. meanwhile, he begins stripping off his shirt.
“it’s not even possible at all now!”
“but i do want to see him wear goggles…” you say in jest, fishing out your phone from the pocket of your shorts. “should i look for one?”
wait, what do you even type for it? dog goggles?
“i found them. there are helmets, too.” you gasp, covering your mouth as an epiphany hits you. “the puppy wasn’t wearing a helmet?”
driven by curiosity, jungkook sits next to you as you search for the item online. he is practically naked, left wearing only his black calvin klein boxers.
“oh,” he pauses. “now that you mention it, the puppy wasn’t wearing one.”
“how are you still sweaty?” with your thumb, you wipe the bead of sweat threatening to enter his eye. “go shower first.”
he manages to sneak a chaste kiss to your wrist before it becomes out of reach.
“before that, i need to tell you something.”
you bob your head, encouraging him to speak out, but the longer you maintain eye-contact with him, the faster his impulsive courage melts into a puddle of nervousness.
marry me.
marry me.
“baby…”
“yes?” you half-smile. “what is it? you’re starting to scare me.”
marry me.
when i see the future, i only see you.
“i love you.”
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jongseongsnudes · 4 months
Text
stress relief
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roommate!jake. 2.4k words. smut with a perverted jake sim ft. ??
“show me your tits.”
“what the actual fuck sim?”
“i said what i said,” the man says so nonchalantly from the couch, a smug grin on his face. the one you swore you were going to punch hundreds of times before.
what started out as a peaceful saturday for you to study for the upcoming finals, turned into an entire afternoon full of your new roommate’s bullshit. the man had come home early - for once in his life - and decided to blast a horror movie in the living room.
you knew living with a roommate would be full of compromises but he also knew you were studying and setting the tv volume level at 70 for hours was a bit ridiculous. the man himself was already enough of a distraction as it was.
“show me your tits and i put the volume down. it’s a win win situation for the both of us.”
you could only laugh at the proposition, if you could even call it that. the audacity this man had to even suggest a thing but what did you expect, this was jake sim after all. the fuckboy-est fuckboy of them all.
“you’re an idiot. i’ll just go study somewhere else.”
you were back in your room before he could even open his mouth, not wanting to continue such a conversation with the man. you were already stressed out over finals and with the heavy storm outside, you really didn’t need jake’s antics right now.
jake sim had moved in after your last roommate three weeks ago and well... it had been hell for you since.
you weren’t exactly the shy type but jake sim was something else. not only would he blatantly flirt with you 24 hours a day but the man had a serious staring problem as well. sometimes you’d feel him watch you from across the room, other times he’d gawk at your legs like they were there for him to look at.
... which they sometimes were but he didn’t need to know that!
you’ve had to fight back so many times to not give in, to not give into his shameless advances... to not get on your knees for him because the last thing you wanted was to get involved with your roommate.
“why leave the comfort of our wonderful apartment, especially with the storm outside,” your roommate’s deep voice knocks you out of your thoughts, making you turn around to see him leaning against your door frame, “my offer stands, sweetheart.”
“i’d rather be out there in the storm than in here with you.”
“you know that’s a lie, you’d very much prefer to be here with me,” he laughs as he says so, mockingly. you watch as he gradually walks over to you, cornering you back against your table with that exact same annoying grin on his face from earlier.
your breath hitches when he leans in even closer, almost closing the very necessary gap between your bodies. you’re now very aware of his gaze’s direction and it’s not at your chest where it usually is, it’s at your lips. a smirk dawns his face at your tense reaction, the man obviously enjoying the effect his simple words has on you, “why are you so flustered roomie?”
“i’m not. now- now move. i need to go.”
he doesn’t say anything but is still fixated on your lips and it’s making you more nervous than ever. you just pray that he can’t hear how fast your heart is beating right now because you’d never be able to live that embarrassment down.
“can’t blame a man for trying.”
“you’re unbelievable sim,” you push up against him, sending the laughing man back a few steps as you hurry to grab your bag and leave the room before you do something you’d regret. 
“sweetheart.”
you choke at the pet name, again, your feet stopping mid hallway almost immediately to his call. you know he’s behind you, his much taller frame so intimidating and presence one you can always feel from a mile away.
and that god damn cologne he uses. the one that always heightens your senses even when the owner isn’t around.
“what jake?”
“i have a better proposition,” his raised brows are enough to tell you that he’s up to nothing good, that his next few words are probably going to be something only jake sim would ever say. “let me eat you.”
what.
“w- what?”
“well you’re stressed and i wanna eat pussy,” he confesses so nonchalantly, like it’s the most normal thing to say to your roommate or to anyone for all that matters. “a distraction. stress relief. call it what you must.” 
as ridiculous as he was, he had a point. a good one too.
noticing your lack of reaction, jake takes the chance to lift you up by the waist and throw you over his shoulders with ease. you’re screaming, startled at his sudden move but that only causes the man to laugh more.
“jake what are you AHH-”
your words turns into a squeal once he throws you onto your bed, your body bouncing amongst the pile of fluffy pillows. there’s no time for you to react because the man is already hovering over, his face now close to yours. his eyes are on your lips, as if silently asking for permission and for the first time since meeting him, this was the only time you wished he just went for it.
“jake-”
“although i can tell from your face that you want me to devour this pussy,” he says, followed by a satisfied grin, “i still got to ask, do you want me to?”
it was the first time seeing jake so serious, his tone and expression the complete opposite of how he usually was. he just never came across as someone who valued consent so much so this was a surprise. a good one.
maybe you had jake sim all wrong.
“i’ll leave right now if you want me to-”
“yes. so do something or i’ll change my mind.”
the instant change on his face is one you don’t miss, or rather can’t miss. it’s as if a switch went on in his mind, going right back to the jake you were so used to.
the pervert.
“relax sweetheart, let jake sim make you feel good.”
you watch as he moves down your body, quickly finding himself a comfortable spot in between your legs to settle in. despite how cold his fingers were on your skin, your body felt hot, every part of you is screaming and impatient for him to do something. literally anything.
“hm pink? how pretty,” he pushes your dress up as he coos, revealing your pink panties that were practically soaked right now.
but damn, what a day to be wearing a dress and cute panties. thank heavens for that.
your mind was too occupied with the fact that this was really happening to realise jake had already slipped your panties off, doing so with such ease. like an expert but are you really surprised?
“i know, i’m thaaaat good.”
you immediately roll your eyes at his non sense, like a habit. but you don’t have time to complain, now becoming very aware that you’re just lying here, pussy on full display to your roommate who’s a little too focused on your bareness for your liking.
it’s crazy how it happened. from wanting to stay away from him, turned into you wanting nothing BUT him.
“can- can you just hurry up sim?”
“patience baby girl. let me do my thing.”
“jake- oh fuck!”
his lips suddenly pressing onto your heat causes your brain to literally melt, everything immediately forgotten besides him. it felt so unbelievably good, your body feels as though it’s on cloud nine and he had barely done anything.
and true to his words, he really is thaaaaat good. to call him an expert pussy eater would’ve been about right but you’re never going to admit that to him. not with that big head of his.
but the way he’s licking you, that god like tongue, really is something you’ve never experienced.
“oh my god oh my god jake-”
“yeah you like that? you like it when i do this-” he kisses your core again, his tongue flicking just enough to get you whimpering and clutching the sheets. it was so evil of him, he knew exactly what he was doing to you and the man continued to do so, painfully slow.
he grips onto your thighs, holding them down harshly when you begin moving about. the grip allows him to shove his tongue even deeper inside of you, bringing you closer and closer to your end. everything was driving you insane. his hold, his mouth, his tongue, the noise... the man himself.
“i can tell you’re close. already,” you could feel him smirking into you as he spoke, as if pleased with himself, “go on, cum for me sweetheart.”
the use of that nickname, along with his quickened licks is what does it for you. whimpers and his name are the only two things on your own lips as you finally reach your high but instead of moving away, the man begins lapping at your juices...
and man what a sight that was.
you’re definitely remembering this scene for when you’re horny and alone later...
“you okay?” you can hear him ask, your mind still hazy and unable to process much at all. that was until his face pops into view again, the man having moved back up your body, hovering over, with his lips now slightly swollen and glistening from the scandalous activity a moment before.
“yeah... i’m okay.”
“you sure don’t look it,” he chuckles, amused by your dishevelled state, “with the way you reacted with just my mouth, i doubt you’ve ever been fucked properly. am i right?”
“well...”
“i can fuck you right sweetheart.”
your eyes almost pop out of your head, his words affecting you more than they should’ve.
silence then overtakes the bedroom as you both stare at each other but no one says a thing. there’s something noticeably different in his gaze, like he’s contemplating, like he’s conflicted and to be fair, you were weirdly feeling the same.
“fuck- can i kiss you?”
you don’t bother replying and lean forward yourself, slamming your lips onto his. the sudden move surprises the man, who looked completely startled, eyes wide. you find it adorable that someone like jake could be so caught off guard and you’re proud that it was because of you.
he finally kisses you back, with desperation, like he wants to taste every part of you. and you let him dominate. your hands find their way around his neck, wrapping around it in order to pull him down closer. it’s a move you definitely know he appreciates with how he’s smiling into the kiss.
“you’re so damn pretty-”
*ring ring ring*
the sound of his ringtone roars from somewhere on the bed, interrupting whatever he was going to say and whatever this might’ve led to. how quick he was to reach for it weirdly irked you the wrong way, irritating you for some reason.
“as much as i’d love to continue this,” the man says without looking at you, too busy with his phone to even see your changed expression, “jake sim has places to go. so the apartment is all yours for the night.”
and without another word, he leaves your bedroom, followed by the front door softly slamming. it takes you a moment to realise that he actually left, that he abandoned you. although he did technically do as promised, this wasn’t how you were expecting your night with jake sim to end.
with you left completely hot and bothered.
you don’t want to be mad, you had no right to, but you are.
without hesitation, you disregard the rest of your clothes and grab your own phone. you didn’t have too much experience with sexting but you knew how to entice a man like jake sim and this was definitely how.
it takes you a few moments to finally press that send button, knowing that you 100% will regret this later. but you couldn’t care less right now, you needed him. and as quick as that sent word appeared next to your raunchy image, the little seen word also appears... but no reply.
did he just... ignore your nudes?
a million things rush through your mind, like how you were going to face him from now on. oh the embarrassment. you could probably avoid him for awhile... but not forever.
“you’re so hot. can’t believe i almost missed this.”
“J-JAKE?” and to your surprise, standing at your bedroom door was none other than your hot roommate, who’s gawking at your naked body without shame, “d- didn’t you just leave?”
“i was going to but then these,” he reaches for something pink from his pocket, something very familiar to you, and dangles it from his finger, “i couldn’t stop thinking about you with these in my pocket.”
“you stole my panties? you’re such a perv sim!”
“i only perv on you sweetheart,” the man makes his way to you, one hand grasping the pink material while the other is now palming the obvious tent in his pants. the sight has you naturally rubbing your thighs together, something jake immediately noticed as well.
he doesn’t waste any time, quickly pulling his shirt over, letting you admire his toned torso that you’ve thought about way too often for your own good. and now that it was literally hovering over you, free to touch as pleased, you swore you almost came to the sight alone.
“the person you were sending those nudes to just then, is one lucky fucker.”
“w- what do you mean sim? i sent them to you.”
“uh no you didn’t sweetheart. you know someone else named jake sim cause i didn’t get them.”
“no... but... i do know someone else named... roommate...” your voice mumbles off as realisation hits you. like a truck. you had named both jake and your old roommate as roommate in your phone. something you forgot to change once he left.
that means...
*ring ring ring*
[INCOMING CALL: roommate]
“oh fuck.”
to be continued.
2023 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.  
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sparklingchim · 7 months
Text
you're losing me; m | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 3.2k
rating: 18+
genre: angst, married couple, age gap, ceo jk, nepo baby oc, second chance romance
warnings: thigh riding, liddol hickey, spittt, groping, dirty talk, name calling, only one spank!!, arguments 🙄, mentions of smoking?, daddy kink, fake sympathy, creampie, little cum play,
summary: jungkook is late from work yet again. but he shows you just how much he missed you.
a/n: this is for us angst girlies 🫂
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
Something is not right.
Your nose picks up on the unfamiliar scent on Jungkook as you bury your face into his chest. He squeezes you tightly, big arms embracing you with a warm hug.
“Hi, love,” he softly whispers. Jungkook cradles your head and you melt into his hand. He is bent down to your position on the bed, his loose tie hanging from his neck.
“Missed you.” Your voice gets buried in the kiss Jungkook presses on your lips. You catch his tie and pull him closer.
“I told you not to stay up.” He leans back. Accusatory eyes peering down at you.
Your nose scrunches when he steps away, the pungent waft snaking up your nostrils.
“Did you smoke?”
His round eyes widen at the question, but he denies it with a firm shake of his head. His neatly styled hair doesn’t move – except the short, wispy flyaways on his forehead. Jungkook’s lips pucker the slightest bit. He appears innocent and you believe him if he tells you so.
“I was with Mingyu a lot,” he explains. He places his folded suit jacket on the dresser and begins to loosen the sleeve of his shirt. “You know how he is when he’s stressed.”
You lean against the headboard. “I don’t like the smell.”
“I know.” He starts unbuttoning the front of his shirt. “I’m sorry.” He walks over to his nightstand and exchanges his Rolex for his smart watch. You watch him with knitted eyebrows. “I’m gonna head down to the gym – do a quick workout session.”
“Jungkook it’s late. You just got home from work.” You reach for his arm.
He turns to you, chiselled chest peeking out from underneath his unbuttoned shirt. “It’s fine. I’m not tired.”
You huff, crossing your arms. “Then let me watch you work out.”
Jungkook sniffs a laugh. “You stay here.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Get some sleep for me, yeah? I know you have an appointment tomorrow morning.” His knuckles trace the outline of your jawline.
You sigh and draw back.
“Hey – don’t be upset.” He catches your chin with his fingers. “I told you I was gonna work out today.”
A harsh glower settles on your face. “Well, I thought that meant you’d come home earlier.”
“I tried to, love. I really tried.” His worried eyes search for understanding in yours. “I don’t want you upset. I never want you upset.”
He tilts your chin, so you meet his eyes. Jungkook’s gaze is soft. The amount of softness you’d have if you were staring at a delicate, precious thing. He always looks at you like this.
“I only ever want to make you happy. Nothing else.” His eyebrows raise to stress the tender words he whispered into the room. “Just want to make my wife happy.”
Warmth spreads in your chest. “I know that,” you answer meekly.
Deep down, there’s an overwhelming desire to pour your heart out to him, to express the multitude of things that have been gnawing at your soul, each one a sharp thorn in your side, leaving you utterly upset. But considering how late it is you don’t think it’s the right moment to unleash this torrent of pent-up frustration.
You’re both tired from the useless arguments. You don’t want to make this day any more exhausting for him.
“If you want to make me a happy wife then finish off that workout quickly and join me in bed,” you say. “I need cuddles.”
His eyes crease before a gentle smile sweeps over his mouth. “Good night, love.” He catches your lips in a swift, tender good-night-kiss. “You should shut that thing off. It’s too late for that.” Jungkook regards your iPad with a disgruntling scrunch of his nose. He hates screen time before bed. But you just love drawing on it.
You’d tease Jungkook with it sometimes. Annoy the hell out of him until he’d see no other choice but to put you to sleep his way.
But now Jungkook tucks you under the bed, makes sure to grab his number one enemy when it comes to having you to himself at night and hides in his nightstand.
You watch him slip off his shirt as he crosses the room. You get a glimpse of his broad shoulders and unfairly teeny tiny waist before he leaves the bedroom.
You turn to your side. A tiring sigh flies past your lips.
With two gentle claps of your hands the dim lights in the room shut off.
The spot next to you is empty. Cold.
It’s unsettling how quickly you’ve gotten used to the feeling.
~
The mattress dips beside you.
“Hmm?” You stir awake, emitting confused murmurs.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook hushes from behind you. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
Your head turns in his direction. “Jungkook.” You bury your face into the crook of his neck. He is a magnet, always pulling you in. Even when you are sleepy and can barely force your eyes open.
His fingers find their way to your hair and in slow patterns he strokes over the length of it.
“What time is it?” you mutter the question into his skin.
“Just past midnight.”
“Two hours?” Your peeved grumble prompts him to peck your bare shoulder. “You said quick workout.”
“I didn’t work out the entire week, babe.”
You rest your head on his arm, glaring up at him. “It’s just Wednesday.”
Jungkook shushes you with a firm squeeze on your hips. “I’m here now. Done with everything.”
When you hear him emit a tiny, exhausted blow through his nose – barely audible in the quiet room, but you notice because you notice every little detail about him – your eyes turn worried.
“You okay?”
Jungkook lets the questions linger in the air before he nods firmly, uttering a, “Yeah. I’m fine.”
You tentatively sweep his short hair from his forehead. It’s a little damp from the shower.
“The day was filled with lots of important meetings. It was a lot today.” Before you can place your hand back on his chest, he catches your wrist and adds a small kiss to the back of your hand.
You figured as much. Jungkook barely texted you back today. Needed hours to respond.
“Was at least the food that I ordered for you good?”
“Fuck – don’t remind me.” He bites his bottom lip, pleasure spreading over his face. “The food was incredible. Have you eaten there before?”
A smile curves your lips. “Uh-huh. Went there with Namjoon last week. I didn’t know when you’d have time to have dinner there with me, so I got my favourite from the menu for you.”
Jungkook has been coming late from work for over two weeks now. You barely had cute dates anymore.
“We can go there.” His tatted fingers toy with the hem of your lacy nightgown. “You wanna go there tomorrow? I’ll finish work earlier.”
Your eyes sparkle. “I’d love to.”
Jungkook’s dimple appear at your beaming face. He drags your thigh over his abdomen, the silky fabric of your nightgown riding up the curve of your butt. His palm rests on the exposed skin.
“Why didn’t you blow dry your hair?” you ask. You tug at some damp strands.
“Didn’t want to wake you.” Jungkook cranes his neck down to gently kiss your forehead. “We should sleep now. It’s late.”
Your brows furrow in exaggerated displeasure. “Not yet.”
“What’s wrong, love?” He cups your cheek worriedly.
“Wanna hang out more.”
Jungkook chuckles lightly. “You wanna hang out?”
“You’ve been making me feel really lonely,” you say in a pout.
“Love, fuck.” His hand on the swell of your ass squeezes your flesh. “Don’t say that.”
“You’re barely home.” You get closer to him, if even possible, knee skimming past the front of his grey sweatpants. The pads of his fingers dig into your skin at that motion.
“You really don’t wanna sleep, huh?”
“Nuh-uh.”
You slowly start to grind your hips against him.
“Then let me make up for all the time I’ve been away from my wife.”
You giggle when he draws you on top of him. You straddle his thigh as Jungkook leads your face down to his mouth. It’s an impatient and longing kiss, the type that has your mind bewitched, compelling you into chanting his name in a never-ending rhythm.
Jungkook rids himself of his sweatpants, tossing them to the ground with his feet.
Your hips continue to move on his now bare thighs, moving your kisses to from his lips to his neck. He doesn’t like having marks on his neck, but you can’t help but feel a little selfish when you start sucking on his skin. Just merely a second after, Jungkook pulls at your hair.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he questions with a sharp gaze.
“Having fun?” Your desire to leave a little hickey might also stem from media outlets starting to question why Jungkook and you haven’t been spotted together recently, but you’d rather not admit that. You don’t want him to think that you care about public perception, even though Jungkook is very well aware of it all. You just like to pretend it doesn’t affect you.
You just can’t wait for the photos tomorrow when you will show up in a cute outfit with Jungkook holding your hand, a small love bite adorning his neck after not making a public appearance with him for a couple weeks.
He sniffs a laugh. “Just can’t help it, can you?”
“Never.” You bat your eye lashes.
His hands are on your waist, encouraging your slow movements. He bunches the soft material of your baby blue nightgown in his palms, staring at your clothed pussy.
“I can feel how wet you are for me.” His eyes move with the motions of your hips, a gentle smirk capturing his lips. “What’s gotten you so worked up, babe?” He flexes his thigh, coaxing a gasp from you.
“You.” You’re already a little breathless, his heartbreakingly handsome face fuelling the deep desire of needing more.
Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Have I not been taking care of my love? Hm?” Jungkook asks you in mock sympathy.
You nod, pressing your palms against his ripped chest while your hips grind a bit rougher on his thigh.
“I’m sorry.” He traces your bottom lip, gentleness coating his words. He pops his finger into your mouth, making you suck on it. You swirl your tongue around it until he withdraws his finger, sneaking it in your panties and pressing it against your sensitive clit.
A whine flies past your lips at his touch, moving even faster.
“You’re gonna cum for me like this?” He starts circling the pad of his thumb on your clit.
Arching your back, you lean in for a kiss, uttering little moans of his name against his lips. You can feel the smug smirk on his mouth, can feel his possessiveness in the way he squeezes your ass and hear it in the loud smack that echoes through the room after his palm collided with your butt.
When you feel the pleasure exploding within you, you bury your face into Jungkook’s neck. Your body trembles. Jungkook tilts his head and gingerly pecks your temple, hands skimming over your back.
“Good girl,” he murmurs.
Jungkook puts you on your back, tugging off your panties and carelessly throws them away. He does the same to his pair of black briefs.
You watch him spit on his dick and stroke his hard cock while you get comfy on the pillows. Jungkook rubs his tip over your soaked pussy, leisurely pressing his dick inside when his head is against your entrance.
“Fuck, I missed your pussy.” He wraps your legs around his waist, staring at how your pussy takes his entire length.
As he moves his cock, his hand raises to your head to tame your chaotic hair. You pucker your lips a little and he instantly answers your silent request with a smooth press of his mouth against yours.
“Want your vibrator?” he asks.
“Too sensitive.” Your nails graze his back, your feet keeping him close to you.
Jungkook pushes your silky nightgown past your tummy and over your tits. He loves watching them bounce as he thrusts his cock into your pussy. He gropes them, toying a little with your nipple as he swipes his spit over your nub. His eyes are practically glued to the supple swells on your chest.
Until he finds something prettier than your tits. Your face.
He wears a boyish smile on his face when you meet his gaze. You bite your lip, pleasure and giddiness swirling through you.
“Taking my cock so well,” he praises. “Such a good slut for daddy.”
You gulp, teeth sinking further into your lip.
He lowers his head, pulling your earlobe between his lips before he whispers, “Right? You love being a good slut for daddy.”
Chills spreads over your neck and you manage a meek nod as loud whines escape your throat.
“Use your big girl words,” Jungkook demands. “Tell me whose girl you are. You can do that, can’t you?” His voice turns sweet again, though the taunting glint remains in his eyes. Your pussy foolishly clenches.
“I’m daddy’s girl,” you utter with bright eyes.
Jungkook flashes you his dimples. Excitement spreads in your tummy at his approval.
“Open,” he instructs and you part your mouth. He drops a tiny bead of saliva in your mouth. With one hand around your throat, he feels you swallowing it. “Good girl.”
He pushes the back of your thighs towards your body, picking up on his speed.
“Jungkook,” you moan weakly.
“Gonna fill this pussy with my cum.”
He pounds you faster, harder, filling the room with filthy sounds.
“I’m close,” you mumble, fingers clawing at the bed.
“Cum with me,” he rasps.
Jungkook grunts your name and you feel yourself topple over the edge as his tip kisses the sweet spot inside you, repeatedly hitting it until your hands fly up to his shoulders and nails dig into his skin.
His hips still, painting your pussy white. Jungkook plants slow kisses on your collarbone, trying to catch his breath.
When he pulls out, his cum follows, but he pushes your mixed juices back inside. You moan lightly, tapping your feet against his back to tell him to get you something to clean you up.
But Jungkook remains on top of you just a little longer. “You did so good,” he whispers. He catches your left hand and pecks the ring that adorns your finger. “I love you.”
“Love you,” you mutter back, a tiny, exhausted smile curving your mouth.
“Forever.” With a doting kiss he conceals the promise he has been making to you for four years.
Getting off the bed, he puts on his briefs and disappears into the bathroom to fetch a warm cloth. When he returns to clean you up, he is gentle with you, peppering kisses on your tummy and thighs and flashing cute smiles your way as he does it.
With his sweatpants and now dirty cloth he walks back into the bathroom.
“Have you thought about costumes for the Halloween party?” you ask him.
“Halloween party?” His voice ricochets through the bathroom.
“Chanyeol’s Halloween party,” you remind him as he saunters back into the bedroom. The grey sweatpants hang dangerously low on his hips. “Wanna go through my Pinterest board? I collected some cute ideas.”
He grabs white lacy panties from the dresser. “It’s in two weeks?” Jungkook helps you slip on the new panties, ducking down to press a light peck on the little bow sitting on the centre of it. “I’ll see if I can find the time.”
You look at him puzzled. “What do you mean?”
Jungkook rakes his hand through his messy hair. “You know I’m extremely busy at the moment.”
“But we always go to Chanyeol’s party.” You reach for his hand, tugging him closer to the bed. Disappointment pulls your lips into a pout.
Chanyeol’s Halloween party is always big, extravagant and ridiculously dramatic, but that is exactly what makes it fun. You love extravagance. Love dressing up.
Jungkook’s finger brusher over your dainty ring. “You can still go. You don’t need me to go with you.”
You drop his hand with a frustrated huff. It’s not the response you wanted to hear. “Missing out on Jimin’s birthday last week wasn’t enough?” you ask disdainfully. A bit mean. You don’t care.
“I’m not doing it purposefully.” He levels you with reproving eyes. “I wish I could’ve come.”
You tuck your feet back underneath the blanket, pulling it up to your lap. “Just squeeze in a little time for the party.” You almost add a “please?”, but you’re feeling terribly annoyed; the kind that makes you unconsciously clench your jaw and pull your brows so tightly, they practically touch.
“I’m not going to schedule around a silly Halloween party, ___.” His tone drips with irritation.
“Fine,” you reply, scooching back on the bed. “Don’t know why I even bothered.”
“Love.” It’s a futile attempt at taming the sudden raging anger that crawled up your neck.
“You’ve been doing this constantly, Jungkook.”
He still stands in front of the bed. Tongue poking his cheek as he debates his next words. He swipes his hand over his face, sighing into his palm.
“You don’t understand,” he grumbles annoyed.
“I know you don’t.”
Jungkook scoffs at your reply – even wears a crooked, ridiculing smile. An angry flush appears on his cheeks.
“Let’s not do this before bed,” he suggests. Tiredness is written all over him.
We’re already in the middle of it. But you keep that to yourself. You don’t have the energy for a bigger fight. He’s drained it from you from all the fights the nights before this.
“I don’t care anymore,” you say. “Shouldn’t have asked you anyway.”
Jungkook turns off the little lamp on his bedside table before he gets into bed. You turn your back to him.
Your heart is heavy with confusing emotions as you lie there in silence. You almost feel your eyes well up with tears, but you blink them away as soon as you feel them.
“Want me to accompany you to your appointment?” Jungkook asks suddenly.
“No.” Yes.
“I’ll start work a little later.” Jungkook’s hand sweeps across your tense shoulders. You must’ve unintentionally stiffened at the mention of your gynaecologist appointment. “I know you’re a little anxious.”
As sleep gradually embraces you a little later, you try to pull back every time invisible strings tug you closer towards Jungkook. You don’t want to sleep in his arms this night, but your heart stubbornly ignores what your mind wants.
Your silent resistance eventually ends, surrendering to the inevitability of your limbs becoming entwined with his. Your cheek is pressed against his chest and his nose is buried in your hair while the soft cadence of his heartbeat finally lulls you into a deep slumber.
This is just the way Jungkook and you function.
Yet, despite your efforts, small seeds of doubt continue to sprout up in your mind, making you question just how much longer you can tolerate this.
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nezuscribe · 10 months
Text
(nsfw, 18+)
toji stared at you, green eyes set it a deep glare as he gnawed on his lip. he was used to knowing things, he actually kind of prided himself in the fact that he was always three steps ahead of usually anybody. 
but today, he wasn’t. today he had somehow stumbled, and staring at the back of your head, was trying to figure out what went wrong. 
you had only spared him a glance when he walked in, unlike your usual bouncy self, greeting him with a kiss as your arms snaked around his shoulder, lips tugging upward into a radiant smile as he felt the stress of the day melt off his body. 
today, none of that happened. 
he walked in, staring at the way you were bundled up in a blanket, watching your favorite show as you pretend he didn’t exist (he knew he took up a lot of space, so he knew that you were bluffing on that part). you didn’t say anything, radio silent as the show hummed along in the background. 
“hey sweetheart,” he called out, waiting for you to turn around, “how’s you’re day been goin’?”
he set his bag down, running a hand through his tousled hair as he looked over the city, (he liked it this way, it normally calmed him down), but without your boisterous voice filling the space of the penthouse he quickly realized just how dull it was. 
“hungry?” he asked as he began to shed off his coat by the door, setting his briefcase down gently as though not the make a sound. 
obviously it didn’t do much because you didn’t answer him, still watching your show. 
“was thinkin’ about ordering some takeout,” he grumbled, now just saying anything to get a response from you, “how does that sound?” 
still, nothing.
he sighed, glancing at you and then to the hall, moving alongside furniture, the room almost becoming a maze as though to stop hm from reaching you, not letting his mind run until he was able to get a full understanding of the situation. 
he maneuvered around the large couch, your eyes never faltering to acknowledge his presence as he moved in closer to you, towering above you as he placed a hand on the cushion behind your head, the other on his hip as he cocked a brow. 
“did i miss something?” 
you swallowed, not trying to give any emotion away as you sat still, almost like a statue, a part of you hoping he’d move on after a couple seconds of trying. 
but he didn’t, he was persistent like that. 
he sank down to his knees, a sight a part of you would always swoon at despite your obvious annoyance towards him, and jutted your chin out, lips slightly pouting despite his large hands running up and down your legs, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he tried to figure you out. 
“is this about what happened with that assistant?” 
with the way your breathing hitched ever so slightly, he assumed he guessed right. 
“sweetheart,” he started, his hands moving up to your knees but you roughly moved your legs away, curling them up into the sofa as you still refused to look at him, “you know she’s trying to make you feel like this. fired her right after you left baby. ” his voice had dropped lower, seriousness flooding his tone so that you know he’s not joking around anymore.
a part of you gleamed at his words, happy to have the bitch gone. and you know he’s right, know that the pesky assistant that kept calling him her work-husband was only trying to get a reaction out of you. but now she did and you were petty and couldn’t find it in you to care.
“c’mon sweetheart, no need to be jealous,” he pushed, his hands finding their way back on your legs as his green eye glimmered with a sort of mischievous light, “know you’re the only one for me.” 
his fingers danced on your thighs, squeezing the flesh as he was determined to get something out of you. he decided that he didn’t seem to mind all that much if it weren’t words. 
his slender fingers tugged at the hem of your sleep short, and a part of you wanted to squeeze your legs together and leave, but you couldn’t, just pushing your head deeper into the cushion behind you as you pretended his movements weren’t sending heat straight to your core. 
you didn’t even fight him as he pulled the shorts all the way down, his breathing hitching in his throat when he realized you weren’t even wearing pantie, greeted with the sight of you bare pussy as he grinned slyly. 
“did you want me to resort to this, hm?” he asked, nudging your legs to open with his head, grinning when you huffed, your tits rising in your tank top as you crossed your arms over your chest. 
“fuck sweetheart,” he nudged a finger closer to your cunt, groaning at just how wet you were, “this turning you on?” 
yes, it was, you wanted to say and admit it, but not yet. not now. 
his pushed his finger in deeper, reaching that part in you that you never could, hooking it in the way you liked as his thumb found your clit, applying pressure as he swirled it around in an eight pattern, watching with his devil as your head turned to the other side, lips pressed in a thin line as your eyes welded shut. 
“my pretty girl should know by now that only i fuck her like this, right? that i can’t have anybody after i’ve had her?” and it wasn’t a question because you already knew the answer, but he relented, shoving in another angry finger as they easily slid in and out of you. 
your pretty lips fell open as you whined, your nails gripping his hair as you pulled him closer to your cunt, and though he was a bit annoyed at the fact that you still hadn’t made a sound, he knew just what to do. 
he moved his fingers away from your pussy, a smirk growing on his ace when he heard you whine, but instantly replaced them with his mouth, beginning to eat you out as if you were a meal he’s been craving forever. 
he ate you like a man starved, his tongue licking and sucking at your clit, pumping in and out of you in way his fingers never could. he knew your cunt better than you did, and if he wanted you to come in under three minutes he was going to have his way.
the sounds that bounced off the high walls were so sinful that you felt heat crawl up your neck and to your checks, sweat dotting your forehead as you grasped onto his hair as if your life depended on it.
“mmmm, ‘s too much, toji!” you moaned, your pretty lips falling into an o shape as toji looked up from your pussy, the scar on his lip rising as he smiled.
“my baby found her words?” and before you could nod he went back in, sucking at you clot as you moaned out pathetically again.
on any other day you might have tried to at least hold out for a little bit, but you’ve been missing him since this afternoon, horny and needy for him, that you couldn’t stop your toes from curling, your stomach from clenching as you felt your release creeping up on you. 
“come on baby, i know you’re close, let go for me.” he ordered, gripping your thigh so hard you knew he was gonna leave bruises in his wake.
“toji, toji, fuck, i’m...!” you whined out loud, throwing your head back as your muscles clenched down, your pussy spasming around nothing as he pulled away, feeling your essence coating his tongue and his chin as you came, your hands grasping his hair, his shoulders, the cushions, anything you could find. 
your chest heaved as you struggled to calm down, peeking at him from the corner of you eye in an embarrassed way as he only chuckled, slapping your thigh gently as he stood up.
“hi baby,” he greeted, grasping your chin between his two fingers.
“hi toji,” you muttered weakly and he smiled, missing your voice so much that he never realized how much he needed to hear it. 
“feel like talking now?” he asked and you meekly nodded, letting him slip a finger into your mouth as you sucked around it, not feeling that pettiness you were feeling only minutes ago. 
“good, ‘cause i need to hear you scream tonight.” 
you could be bratty when you wanted to be, but toji knew just the counter measures against it.
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sxcret-garden · 7 months
Text
Ateez Reaction ღ When you get tired during sex [M]
ღ Ateez all members x fem-bodied!reader ღ genre: smut, some fluff, reaction ღ warnings: none
Desc.: In which you get tired while having sex with them and they take over for you - inspired by this ask.
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Hongjoong:
You’re not really as focused as usually when you’re lazily sucking him off that evening. The past few stressful days have taken a toll on you, and he realizes it too, because even though he’s enjoying himself, Hongjoong soon cups your face with his hand, bringing some distance between you and him. “You’re tired, aren’t you?” he guesses correctly, and you furrow your eyebrows in regret. You just wanted to spend some time making your boyfriend feel good, but with the way your eyelids are drooping, you don’t think you can keep it up much longer. So when he makes you lie down on the bed instead, him starting to remove your clothes while trailing kisses down your body, you’re surprised but also relieved. You let out sleepy moans at his ministrations and at the way his fingertips and lips are leaving soft touches all over, and when he starts eating you out, you hold onto his locks. Relaxing under his touch, it doesn’t take him long to make you cum, and when you pass out mere moments later, he’s right there to hold you close, making sure you’re sound asleep and that you can rest.
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Seonghwa:
“Can’t go on, baby…” you mutter those words as you collapse half onto the bed and half against Seonghwa’s chest, who immediately wraps his arms around you to hold you close. Placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead, he lets you catch your breath from the many orgasms he’s given you that night. It’s clear that he still has some stamina left while you’ve run out completely, and you don’t want to ruin the mood for him, but you can also feel your body begging you for some rest. “It’s okay, baby…” he mutters, lips brushing against the tip of your nose and then your mouth. “Let me make you feel good one more time?” he asks, and when you see him gazing at you, you find nothing but adoration and lust in his eyes. His fingertips are dancing down your body, and when you understand what he wants to do, you nod. Even just him letting his fingers run up and down your folds makes heat rush to your core, and with careful touches he doesn’t take long to have you seeing stars again. Within mere moments you find yourself whining his name with his digits inside you, as he slowly fingers you towards your last orgasm that night.
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Yunho:
You don’t know what’s wrong with your body today, but you sure as hell are cursing it when you suddenly lose all strength as you’re in the middle of riding your boyfriend. You were both moaning at the pleasure mere moments ago, but now a few pained noises escape you as your legs are starting to cramp and you eventually crawl off him with a regretful “sorry”. “What’s wrong?” Yunho immediately asks, watching as you somehow try to find relief by stretching out your legs. “Just a cramp…” you inform him, and he patiently waits until you signal him that you feel okay again. “Let’s continue like this then, hm?” Your boyfriend crawls on top of you slowly, pressing a kiss to your lips that eventually grows more passionate, and next thing you know he’s lying on top of you, pushing up into you. You throw your head back upon having him back inside you, and you immediately reach out to wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Is that better, baby?” he mutters in between scattering kisses all over your neck, rolling his hips against yours at a steady pace. You can only moan in response as he keeps hitting that sweet spot inside of you, and soon you find yourselves back to chasing your highs.
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Yeosang:
You’re taking your time going down on your boyfriend and worshipping his body with touches and kisses and nips when you feel the pending headache finally setting in. And you curse yourself because of the sudden pain that’s interrupting your desperately needed alone time with him, especially because the second you stop your ministrations, his deep moans also cease. “Y/N…? Are you okay?” he calls out to you once it dawns on him that something must’ve happened, and filled with regret, you crawl back up to place an apologetic kiss on his cheek before telling him about your headache. He furrows his brows at you, immediately putting his hands onto your shoulders softly, and you can tell that your pain must be visible from his reaction. “Do you want to stop and go to sleep?” However, you shake your head - you really want to spend some more time with him, but he won’t let you overexert yourself, worried that the pain might become worse. “Then how about we turn things around…?” You nod and close your eyes, the darkness offering some relief for you, and Yeosang starts massaging your temples, before he begins scattering soft kisses all over your body, and eventually he starts touching you where you need him most as the relaxation from his touches proves as an effective remedy against the pain. 
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San:
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks you in the softest of voices when you’re slowing down on top of him. You had seemed full of energy when you two started getting it on that night, confidently crawling into his lap and riding him, but as exhaustion overwhelmed you, your movements inevitably lost power. He had been so into it as well, but as soon as San noticed something’s off, his mood changed completely. You avoid looking at him as you have to admit to yourself that maybe you’re too tired to keep going, but as you mumble an apology, he’s quick to cup your face with his hands, thumbs brushing against your cheeks in comforting motions and he shakes his head at you. “Don’t say sorry… should I take over, baby?” He speaks so softly too, you think your chest is about to overflow with warmth upon having him care about you like this, and when you nod he carefully switches your positions. With him on top of you now, you throw your arms around his shoulders as he goes slow. Scattering kisses all over your chest and collarbones and eventually melting against you in a deep kiss, he makes love to you like that.
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Mingi:
You had been sleepy to begin with when your attention started drifting away from the movie you had decided to watch with your boyfriend, and instead you two started lazily making out. You feel yourself relax under Mingi’s soft kisses and the way his hands are exploring your body through your clothes, and soon enough hands are down each other’s pants and you’re starting to get each other off. However, when your eyelids are starting to droop you realize just how tired you are, and a slightly offended Mingi calls you out on it. “Am I being that boring…?” You know he’s at least half-joking, but still you feel bad for him. So you explain that you’re just really tired from the day and as you tell yourself to pull yourself together, you say it’s just fine to keep going. However, it wouldn’t be Mingi if he let you do any kind of work in that state, so he takes your hand away from his core, and as you’re about to question his actions, he sinks down onto the ground in front of the sofa. Pulling your pants down and throwing them somewhere else, he lifts your legs up onto his shoulders, leaving a trail of kisses up your inner thigh. “Don’t worry about me,” he mutters, “let me make you feel good instead.” And then he begins lazily eating you out, and you bet it doesn’t take him long to wake up your mind as he brings you closer to your high.
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Wooyoung:
He’s fully indulging in the experience as he has you on top of him, teasing him and riling him up while barely touching him where he needs you the most. And you can’t say you’re not getting energy from the way he’s whining and begging for you, but eventually the exhaustion of the horrible day you had today catches up with you, and it brings you down earlier than you had hoped. You feel bad that you have to let your boyfriend down like this, but still you think it’s only fair to let him know that you’re too tired to keep this up and that maybe you should continue another time. But he’s not stupid, and he already sensed that something was off about you today, so he merely sits up and wraps his arms around you in response. “It’s okay, babe,” he says, a bit out of breath still. “Should we stop? Or do you want me to take care of you?” And of course there’s no way you could say no to that offer, so you ask him for the latter. Without hesitation he makes you switch positions, and while placing a few kisses in your neck, he adds, “I’ll go slow.” Making sure you get your share as well, he lets his hands roam your body until he can hear you moaning softly at his ministrations. Only then does he help you wrap your legs around his hips, pushing inside you to fuck you slow and nice.
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Jongho:
You’ve been going at it for a while now as you’re desperately fighting off the exhaustion in your body while clinging to his shoulders. You’re on top of him, hoping for just one more orgasm, but even with him steadying you and helping you out with his thumb pressed to your clit, you eventually just feel your legs giving out, faced with the fact that you simply don’t have the strength to go on. So when you collapse against him while hissing a curse, he’s quick to catch you, letting you rest for a few seconds. “I’ll take over,” he simply informs you, his voice quiet, and then he flips your positions with ease, helping you wrap your legs around him and then reaching for your wrists to pin you down on the bed. “That okay?” he asks, and as soon as you nod, he starts rolling his hips against yours, slowly at first. You’re still frustrated though, and as if he could sense that, he presses a soft kiss onto your lips, adding, “It’s okay. I’ll give you what you need.” It doesn’t take him long to find just the right pace that leaves you begging him for more, dragging out the process and teasing you just as much as you can take. And when he finally fucks you hard enough to have you seeing starts, you can be sure he’ll have you racing towards another high in no time.
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