#yall are so sweet ahh
Note
WE MISSED YOUUU!!
i missed u toooo
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
ok but like
self ships where the f/o and the s/i are each others comfort hit different.
#snowyspeaks#shut your goofy ahh up snowy#< haha new tag yall#self shipping#self ship#k back to the topic#like seriously i am such a sucker for self ships where the f/o and the s/i comfort each other#i just love that so much#self ship community#like we all fantasise about our f/os being comforted by us or us being comforted by our f/os#but have you ever considered this#like it's just sweet man#they both comfort each other when they need it the most :']
548 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! So I'm the anon that wrote that little rant abt how cool you are awhile ago and I wanted to do another bc I figured it might cheer you up a little-! :D So this time I'ma talk about how amazing you are at writing each of the individual turtles because you are! I've seen so many people sorta turn Mikey into the therapy character that doesn't take care of himself and while there isn't anything wrong with that he does take care of himself! A lot! And you show that! The way you write him is so clear to the fact that he does still goof off and has fun with himself too! Ofc he still cares about his family a lot which you also show as well! It's so cool to see someone represent both those sides of him so well! And Raph is amazing too! You show the way he cares about his brothers so well! And it isn't just centered around one brother, you represent that he cares about all of them so amazingly! (Idc if that's not a word it is now >:D) And April! A lot of people tend to focus her around her being a support character and as cool as that is it's so nice to see her acting on her own too! The way you portray her highlights how she does help out where she can and how she really does care about the turtles but she is also her own person! And isn't always just giving the turtles advice or snapping them out of a spiral. You manage to keep her personality so accurate to canon it's amazing! And kid Leo actually acts like a kid! It's so cool to see someone accurately representing how someone who's like 5 would act. He's obviously gonna be a brat (/aff) and yell a lot and overreact to things, it's so cool to see how you convey that idea. I just really, really love all your art and writing and I really hope you feel at least a little better soon! <3
Owkdkdrfjjrjrj tysm it DID make me feel a little better <333
I am crying and sobbing in the club rn this is so nice??? Aishfjrjrjt there are no words or pictures good enough to represent how warm and fuzzy this made me feel you're so sweet for this !!!
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
colour me in: seven | jjk (m)
Summary: At first, it's an argument that causes the unwanted, childish distance between Jungkook and you. And then… open blazers and a lip ring.
➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader
➳ rating: 18+
➳ genre: est. rel.; fluff, smut
➳ warnings: an argument, cute couple-y things but also they're dorks n cringe sometimes, seven jk (incl the promo pics, laundromat hoodie bf koo, and drenched in the rain koo!!), fighting over food, they're a bit mean to each other, but they adore each other too, brief mention of a rough childhood, sexual tension, taeun being everything, kissing, dumb jokes, period and pms mention!!, a photoshoot!, subtle hints to the future of the main story :'); explicit sexual content: ahh.. making out, dirty talk, oral (f. & m. receiving), brief spanking, face-fcking, light choking, sweet and rough sex, dom jk, big dick jk, whipped simp jk, petnames, multiple orgasms, sex on the couch n on the floor? :'), he loves her a$$ and tiddies, multiple positions, cockwarming!!, mention of aftercare... the ending lol :D
➳ word count: 25k lmfaoo it's oneshot sized yall 😁
➳ a/n: hi!! welcome back!! this is part of my series colour me in, but you can read it as a standalone-oneshot!! tysm for supporting me and encouraging me, guys, it means so so much. this is also unbeta'd, so pls go easy on me LOL. and since this was a piece of worrrrk.. come and talk to me about it, it makes my day fr fr <33
➳ listen to: seven by jungkook | full collaborative playlist 🤍
SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST
MASTERLIST | WIPs
In hindsight, your argument was blissfully domestic after all. In hindsight, maybe even comedic.
You’ve seen these things on TV and read about them in novels; didn’t experience them growing up because your parents didn’t really fight over such harmless matters. They never needed to lift a finger in their ultramodern kitchen, filled with up-to-the-minute equipment to fill their table.
But Jungkook and you don’t rely on such luxuries. You do things for yourself. So, such a couple-y, casual life leads to couple-y, casual arguments. Requires it. Fighting is healthy; entangles two souls some more.
Which is exactly where you are now. Exactly what you’ve become: A true unit. Quarrelling over trivial, everyday things.
Just to end up folded in half, holding onto the very last of your sanity, biting back more inappropriate screams.
In regards of making up, you’re perhaps not that casual. Because he’s a relentless, brutal beast.
Wrecking you right where everything began.
Monday
The end of the day begins with a giant hole in the middle of your thoughts.
Your previously whirring brain tossed away all thoughts of advertisements and seasonal launches, vacant and dark until your senses shut down everything that wasn’t vital to survival.
Like the lights of the evening as your car passed the streetlamps. The tired faces on the pedestrian zone, the odd wrinkles in your skirt, or the scent wafting from the kitchen when you step out of your heels.
Your mind operates on reflexes and automatic movements; the ball of your palm rubs against your eyelid, realising too late that you’re probably smearing your eyeliner.
A sense of reality only truly returns when you hear a familiar voice call out your name, muffled through the walls between you.
You exit the bedroom with fingers scratching the nape of your neck, tiny steps floating over the floor and past the living room. On the coffee table, you register one or two dishes. Rice, too. Smells so good, but…
As you reach him in the kitchen, you halt at the threshold, eyes scurrying to the few pots and ladles in the sink. He’s diligent and fast; cleans up when dinner simmers. Minimal work left after the meal.
For a moment, you take in the cleanliness of the kitchen, and when your eyes move up to the man himself, you beam.
He’s wearing an apron – baby blue with little flowers and rainbows imprinted on it. His mom bequeathed him with one of her old ones, and he’s been boasting about it ever since.
You saw one with astronauts, moons and telescopes once; you might purchase it for him at some point, not least of all because it includes all the things the two of you love.
A tattooed hand pushes back his mane, messy and pointing in all directions the way it does after his showers. His fingers card through the fine tresses two more times before he turns towards you — an immediate smile, similar to yours, spreads across his face.
The tiny little dimples over the corners of his mouth distract you for a second until you see his hand at waist level, beckoning you into the kitchen and a greeting, sweet embrace.
Compared to the cold outside, his oversized, full-sleeve, white shirt offers a familiar warmth. He always smells the same, musky and fresh; not like cherry blossoms at all, but he reminds you of their softness.
Mixed with the scent of tonight’s meal, you inhale it all, wrapping your arms around him as your eyes close in exhaustion. If he wasn’t swaying you in his hold, you’d probably fall asleep, right there against his chest.
A kiss to your temple, and he asks, “Hungry?”
You’re not sure. You cuddle into the apron and whatever’s visible of his shirt, and mumble against him, “Not too much… to be honest, I was gonna shower and sleep.”
“Oh?” he wonders immediately, traces of disappointment in his voice. “But I made this for you.”
You smile again. “You did?”
“Yeah.”
“We’ll eat, don’t you worry.” You take a deep breath, and then lift your head off his chest without letting go. “In all honesty. I saw the food outside and thought you had it delivered.”
“So you were gonna waste something you thought was restaurant food?”
You laugh. You’re sure you could see his rosy pout even if you weren’t looking straight at him.
“No. It just looks very good… I would’ve heated it up tomorrow. But since yours was a one-person-effort,” you pat his back in pride, watching as strands of his bangs fall back into his eyes, “we shall eat.”
“And it comes from the heart, too.”
“Right. It comes from the heart, too.”
You rub his back once, soon backing away. There isn’t much to do for you anymore, but you still grab a couple napkins, chopsticks and spoons as he carries some water into the living room.
The couch feels soft, true Heaven, when you sink into it. Your heartbeat slows down, your mind at ease; when you tilt your head, your neck cracks.
But clinking your glasses of water with someone who cherishes you enough to step back and forth in a kitchen for hours… It's a comfort that’s incredibly close to a peaceful night’s sleep.
And it’s worth the effort, too. Despite the conversation and your complaints about work, you can’t help but compliment dinner every other moment. Possibly another endearing habit you picked up from him.
But you slow down when fatigue returns bit by bit, your eye twitching when you feel a well-known tickling in it.
You’re careful of potential spices when you lift your thumb and rub your eye with the back of it, fighting the itch. For a moment, you stop chewing, and Jungkook only lifts his gaze to you when the movement against your eye continues, circling motions.
“Hey,” he says, grasping your wrist, pulling it down slowly, “that’s bad for the cornea.”
“Yeah, I mean. It’s not like my cornea's been nice to me, either.”
You resume chewing, swallowing the mushy remnants of the rice. Your attention falls back to the bowl of food, and your chopsticks aimlessly poke around for a second before he asks, “Why? You okay?”
“Mhm,” you say, nodding gently. “It’s just,” you point to your eyes, chopsticks dangerously close to your face, “that eye thing. It might be an infection or something. It’s so bad today that it’s hurting my head.”
You’ve complained about the issue a couple times — back when it was just an itch, you assumed it was the dusty town, perhaps even sleep deprivation. But the itch has transformed into a relentless pain, moving up your temples and across your forehead.
“Again, yeah?” Jungkook asks, following with a tender gesture of tucking your hair back. The pad of his thumb brushes over your eyebrow. “I’ll massage your head before we go to sleep.”
You sigh in relief, tired eyelids shutting briefly as you claim, “You’re the fucking best, you know?”
“Yeah.” He delivers a nonchalant, drama-esque shrug of his shoulder. Unmistakable smirk. “I guess I do know.”
The giggles from when you started dating still remain. You remember annoying the hell out of your friends back then, high school butterflies visible through your stomachs and in your bright grins.
Jungkook’s ears would redden, a smile even in your eyes. You can imagine how irritating the honeymoon phase felt to them — not that the two of you ever snapped out of it.
Even now, you’re drowning in it.
Well, until you’re not.
Because the moment he slings his arm around you, leaning back, his plate and bowl empty, you move forwards. Place your own dishes onto the table, cuddling further into him.
Only, he seems to interpret it differently.
“Aren’t you eating anymore?”
Not the message you intended to deliver. But perhaps… he’s not wrong after all.
Because…
While the evening ended on a gentle note, much needed, you’re done with today by now. Craving a warm bed, strong arms around you. A sweet, soft sleep.
And the meal is worth a thousand culinary stars, but your appetite keeps dwindling, and hadn’t he put so much effort and affection into all this, you would’ve probably headed straight to bed.
So you answer truthfully, “I can’t eat more…”
“Hmm.” He briefly points to your portion. “You just ate half of it.”
Brief silence. It must’ve gotten late, because among the quieter traffic on the main road afar, you hear a couple nightlife bugs chirping, too.
You look between the bowl and him slowly, blinking, unsure what to say. The arm around your shoulder doesn’t match his tone, so it feels a little awkward now.
You mutter, “I’m sorry.”
Because should you force yourself to scarf all of this down now, you probably won’t be able to sleep.
But Jungkook’s hums and insecure voice are making you feel bad — you know he doesn’t mean to. It’s the puppy-doe nature, a combination of forlorn, soft eyes and pouty words.
“Ah… It’ll go bad by tomorrow, but…” he starts, but you cut in—
“Fridge?”
An immediate shake of his head, a click of his tongue. “Not with that one. I mean, we could, but it’s gonna be all dry and unpalatable in the morning, y’know?”
You don’t fully have a right to be annoyed. Neither of you does. But the day’s been irksome, work a mess, paper sheets flying around — on top of that, you finished your blister pack of birth control last Friday.
The period, probably approaching tomorrow and meddling with your busy schedule, is already putting you in a sour mood.
So the current lack of a solution doesn’t help your drooping eyelids and still partly tumultuous mind.
You push yourself forward on the couch, sighing before you suggest, “Okay. Then I’ll eat.”
“Woah,” he immediately voices, dropping his arm. He attempts to pull the bowl out of your reach, but you grip it tight, swallowing a small bite of rice. “I’m not forcing you to.”
“Yeah, but still.”
Another sigh of frustration falls out of you, your full stomach crying, but you pull the bowl to you, another bite ready between your chopsticks. But a moment later, Jungkook pushes your hand down again, every rice corn falling back to its prior place, fortunately never leaving the bowl.
Unbelieving, you shoot an aghast glare at him, to which he responds, “Don’t force it. Seriously.”
A rice corn still sticks to your lower lip, and you pull it in with the tip of your tongue. You place the warm meal back onto the table, half turning to Jungkook, voicing an irritated, “Dude!”
“You don’t have to,” he assures, but he looks clearly offended. Looks away, rubs his thigh, eyeing every object on the table before he adds quieter than before, “You know… That’s happened a couple times in the last few weeks.”
“…What did?”
“I’d cook for you and you wouldn’t finish it.”
“Babe… The last few weeks have been tiring.”
“I know,” his voice grows higher at the end of the syllable, but then calms again after a sigh. “But we refrigerated a lot of stuff, some of which I shared with Joon or Tae the next day. Or threw away.”
“Nah.” The ridiculing smirk you respond with isn’t intentional. You drop it right away, but still shake your head in disbelief, defending, “You know I eat up most of the time, especially when you cook. Just today, I can’t do more than this, okay?”
He gulps. Two fingers scratch his ear, eyes once again skimming over empty plates or remnant-filled bowls. He drops his digits back to his thighs, rubbing once more, and then puffs out a breath between rounded lips before he comes to a stand.
And then, all he does is nod; shooting a simple, “Alright.”
His tone is stern. You recognise the expression — his eyes still big, but different now. Usually filled with warm sparkles, they look pissed now. Not because of his dropping lids or the missing crinkles.
Jungkook doesn’t need to move a lot of muscles to look angry; the lack of the glimmer is just enough.
His lips are shut, not parted as they usually are when he focuses on something like his art or cooking or cleaning up. He’s exhaling and inhaling deeply through his nose, hands working on the dishes, but the fall and rise of his chest…
“You’re mad,” you conclude.
He looks back at you, the corners of his mouth never moving. His tone remains flat as he tries to convince you, “No. All good.”
Straightening his back, he attempts to walk away, hiding away in the kitchen until you’ve fallen asleep. He and you don’t argue too much — the little, couple-y, casual fights aren’t quite fights at all.
But they do end with a short distance until one is ready to approach the other and communicate again. A good strategy to cool your minds. You wouldn’t wanna discuss such a thing right away.
This time, however, you don’t want him to leave.
You pull him back again, holding onto the cotton shirt, and he protests with a loud call of your name and furrowed eyebrows as you insist, “No, you are mad.”
Your hand pushes against the couch, your body lifting, and you look him in the eye with a frustrated crease between your eyebrows. “Kook, I just am not capable of finishing it right now. You’re making a bigger deal out of it than you sho—”
“Yeah. Okay,” he interrupts, feigning acceptance and understanding, “it’s fine.” You scoff; sometimes, he’s truly as moody as you. “Things are different here, it’s fine.”
…What?
The sentence nearly comes out as a whisper as he finally starts walking away, and you only register it when he’s halfway out of the room. He balances the dishes in both hands, and you follow him to the kitchen.
Ask, “What’s different? Where’s here?”
“I work, too, you know? I get tired, too.”
“Jungkook,” you try again, slamming the hand against the counter; the sound’s muffled by a bright green cleaning cloth. “What are you talking about, things are different here?”
“Just.” He doesn’t seem to wanna talk. Carefully, he places the empty stuff in the wash basin, working on finding containers to dump the leftovers in them. “I get tired from working in the city, too, but I guess I grew up differently.”
…Huh.
You wait.
Let him collect his thoughts until he tells you, “In the countryside, you work for food, so you get used to finishing dinner. I know people around here rely on supermarkets, and honestly, I do, too,” his shoulders rise as he shovels the tofu dish into a box, “and I guess that’s why it makes sense why it’s easier for you to leave leftovers.”
Wow. Some statements in this world you live in are genuinely unfair.
You understood each of his words and lectures perfectly, but you still voice a little, “Huh?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re not being serious.”
“Maybe.”
You blink. Then blink a couple times more. Observe as he closes the boxes and puts them in the fridge with a sigh. And you feel bad, you swear, you do. But that unnecessary turn of events…
“So what, you mean we don’t work for our food, right?” you counter, a hand on your waist. “We might do less physical labour, so that must mean we don’t appreciate what we get, yeah?”
Damn. And what if there’s more to that? What if—
“Or do you think it’s because I’ve always had enough money to not worry?”
Okay. Perhaps a long shot. He didn’t say it, but what if that’s exactly what his thought process was, too?
Your inner panic, invisible on the outside, grows when he doesn’t answer, lips firmly locked as if they didn’t just spew some crisp bullshit. You fold your arms, sucking air through your nose, and then demand, “Apologise.”
And when his eyes lift to yours, you freeze. God, they’re deadly. And his ingenuine laugh even more so as he throws back, “No, you apologise. Especially for assuming things I neither said nor thought of.”
“You were rude. I’m asking you nicely to take it back.”
“As nicely as I cooked for you. World’s in balance again, I guess!”
He throws his hands up, staring at you until he’s passed you by, eyes rolling. His nonchalant, idle movements rile you up more, and you can’t help but participate further in that odd exchange.
“You douchebag,” you call out, shutting the bedroom door as you reach inside, “I’m not a snob. I’d always finish my stuff, you can even ask the cook in my old house. He loved me because I wasn’t a picky eat—”
“Listen,” he interjects again, “I know. It's fine. I’ll sleep,” he points to the bed, “because this tired me out. Just drop it.”
“So you can drop it as you please?”
“Nah, just asking you to rest,” the first word comes out louder than he anticipated, his shrug vexed and vexing. He clears his throat. “And I’m sure you’re tired of this, too.”
You groan.
“And if I want to—”
“It’ll just escalat—”
“Dude, I—”
And once more, he showcases his annoyance when he glares at you from the other side of the bed, shutting you up, blanket already lifted. You anticipate another rude remark, a way of justification or to blurt something he doesn’t mean.
But despite his recent idiocy, you don’t deem him an asshole. Not to you, at least. Which proves right as he takes a breather, one knee hitting the mattress as he finally states—
“Let’s sleep over it, okay?”
The tone still isn’t as peaceful as it could be; you know it’s a tactic to dodge a fight. You might not be on your best domestic side tomorrow yet. But his question is final and his gaze even stricter.
So you reluctantly sigh, eyes still fiery as you breathe, “Fine.”
But it’s not fine. And the turbulent week ahead, filled with chaos for you and peak comedy to others, might just be about to prove it to you.
Tuesday
You chew on your bites until the taste turns bland.
Still distracted from last night’s exchange, you barely register the tart spicy quality of your dinner; a shame because this restaurant is your favourite place to frequent with friends.
Today, you’re toying with your cutlery, catching a glimpse of your grim reflection in the spoon every now and then. Whenever Jungkook’s elbow touches yours, your heart skips a bit, bleeding as much as your eyes want to water.
With how he’s smiling at your friends, appetite never faltering, you could burst into tears — because somewhere inside, you miss him despite the constant proximity.
Perhaps he does, too.
Because you notice when he drifts closer on purpose, casually putting his hand over yours. Seemingly lost in conversations, he rubs his thumb against the soft back of your hand; but when you look at him, you can’t muster a smile just yet.
It’s your ego, your stubbornness. Pieces of you want to stay pissed. You keep your cool, but try to avert your eyes whenever possible.
And when you, obstinate as last night, pull your hand from under his, you register the defeated sigh.
But instead of starting a new topic, he retracts his fingers, putting his arm on his table as he busies his other digits with his meal. When you dare a glance, the pretty curves of his blooming lips tug upwards, listening to Taehyung’s story.
Either hiding the discomfort between you or not feeling it.
Odd, because he’s your constant centre of attention.
“Yeah, I mean. Every job is stressful, you know? But it’s wholesome, too,” Taehyung narrates. You blink the silent pining away, and focus. “Like, one of my patients is an elderly man, a lot weaker than his wife. And she always comes with him, every single time.”
“She just waits for him the entire time?” Jungkook asks.
Next to Taehyung, Eun nods; she’s probably heard the story before.
“I mean, she entertains us, is more like it,” Taehyung explains. “He’s been getting geriatric physiotherapy to regain some strength, so he needs all the motivation he can get. And those two are such… dorks. They bicker all the time.”
You smile. Reminds you of when Jungkook and you first met. Persistent, pointless rivalry.
Perhaps Eun hasn’t heard all of this after all. Because as she cuts her dinner, she asks before stuffing her mouth with a bite, “How so?”
“Like. She’ll tell him to not be a baby and take that last step during gait training.”
From your right, Jungkook’s laugh reverberates like a melody from above, sickeningly sweet and amused. “Sounds like me and you at the gym, doesn’t it?”
Taehyung rolls his eyes, flicking away stray hair with his forefinger, “Yeah, only because you can lift weights that’d break my arms.”
Another chuckle from the side. Even you smile a little.
Your man is strong, alright — and you’ve always admired it, experienced it a couple dozen times.
You’ve yet to see him work out at a proper gym; the home workout sessions barely count.
Ugh. The violent heartbeat beneath your chest picks up on pace again, and you take a deep breath to calm it just a little.
“Anyway,” Taehyung continues, “then she’ll tease him how the neighbour downstairs has much more flexible legs than he does and he’ll argue how she should’ve married him… and then she tells him that she would’ve if she didn’t love his old ass so much.”
When you giggle, covering your chewing mouth behind your hand, he adds, “I swear! It’s the most standard old couple banter if I’ve ever seen one. Thought that stuff only happens on TV.”
Eun, still busy with the remnants of her meal, doesn’t look up but asks, “So they joke around like that? They don’t get mad at each other or anything?”
“They act like they do. Not a sliver of jealousy or anger in them, though. Insane… and adorable. I guess when you’re married long enough, that’s how relationships turn out. And they should, too, you know?”
Hmm…
You side-eye Jungkook for just a moment, but don’t say anything.
You don’t know what’s written in your future. No clue whether he’s a permanent presence in it, a firm part of your fate or not; you strongly hope for an eternity.
You want to picture him and you grey and old. Wrinkled hands, adorned with blue veins holding each other. Weak smiles and crinkles around his eyes, hidden behind glasses, ever-present.
If he’s your future, you hope to laugh about such fights one day. Hope to let people wonder whether you’re actually furious with each other, veiling unbridled affection behind snarky remarks.
Just… right now, you can’t laugh about it just yet. You still feel oddly offended by his words last night, and it doesn’t help when tonight seems to drift towards a similar ending.
Because as you ask for the bill at the end, Jungkook still pays. You don’t think about it too hard, letting him do, staying seated to finish your drinks.
But your exhaustion reaches a new, entirely unnecessary peak when he starts cracking his fingers. On any other day, you’d put a hand over his, reminding him not to and move on.
Today, you’re in a bad mood, and your demands come out accordingly piqued.
“Stop it.”
“Hm?” he voices, looking at you, the warm light of the restaurant reflecting in his dark brown eyes.
“This,” you point to his fingers, “stop that.”
“Why?”
“Because you know it makes me cringe. A bit annoying.”
Eun, still unaware of the tension between him and you, shrugs her shoulders, “I know that irks a lot of people, but I don’t think it’s that bad.”
“Because you do it, too,” Taehyung complains; she mocks him with a sly smirk and a quiet, Yeah, yeah. He adds, “I can’t stand it, either.”
You lift an open palm towards him, nodding, “So you understand.”
“I’ve seen you do it, too,” Eun argues with a light push against his shoulder, “multiple times!”
“But not as often as you. You start and do not stop.”
You immediately agree, “He’s just like that, too!”
To which Jungkook interjects, his voice still calm; but you still hear the growing aggravation in his voice when he starts, “Honestly, I—”
“He actually has a couple habits that are just—”
You blow a raspberry.
Your interruption triggers Jungkook. And your words, admittedly not quite the sweetest, don’t sit well with him, either, because a moment later, he’s leaning forwards again. Looking at you directly before he continues his irritating bone-cracking.
You grit your teeth and repeat, “Stop that.”
“What?” he shoots back. You flinch. “A habit you despise so much, yeah? I don’t get the same intense reaction when I do something nice for you.”
So untrue.
Fucking hell. He’s talking about yesterday again.
You exhale through your nose, possibly resembling a bull ready to attack; Taehyung and Eun shrink in front of you, grimacing at each other. You’d laugh if it wasn’t you trapped in that exasperating back and forth of exchanges.
“Oops,” Eun whispers, yet overshadowed by your words as you defend, “That’s not true.”
“Maybe,” Jungkook says, shrugging a shoulder with an outrageous smirk, “but you never get that angry when I crack them at home.”
“I just don’t say it.”
“Oh? What else do you not say, hm?”
Taehyung dares an attempt, “Guys.”
But you’re too heated, a little stupid, very ridiculous as you spit, “Like, how irritating it is that you smack your lips every other second.”
Jungkook puffs out a breath. Looks to the side, straight into Eun’s direction who sinks a little more. He curls his lower lip in, running his tongue over it, jaw clenched and sharp. If you weren’t so focused on your temper, you’d find it scorching hot.
In a harmless little fight, you’d keep annoying him until he lost it eventually, mounting you and shutting you up in the very tempting Jungkook-esque way he knows.
But not here, not right now.
Instead, he fucks you up further as he sneers, “Right.”
“Or,” you continue, “that you don’t clean up your working space after painting.”
“What?” He furrows his thick eyebrows, ignoring Taehyung’s call of Jungkook’s name. “I mean. You have all your documents scattered on the desk. I might need it, too, y’know?”
“Why don’t you say it then?” you ask, tilting your head with one cocked eyebrow of yours.
“‘Cause I wanna let you work? ‘Cause it’s important for me that you’re able to focus?” He looks away again, tutting; his shoulder moves with his deriding laugh as he mumbles, “The fuck, really.”
Somewhere inside, you feel bad. You know his words are true. But you can’t tell him yet; so you just glare at him.
As silence finally falls upon you, Eun moves towards the table again, glancing between the two of you as she wonders, “What’s wrong with you guys?”
Everything.
“Nothing,” you say.
“…You wanna go?”
You wait. Jungkook doesn’t answer. Looks to the ground. When you don’t respond either, his eyes lift to yours, still big but not as enthusiastic as usual. Intimidating even.
You stay still, so he only voices, ���Uh-huh.”
And the couple, enduring your awkward moment, lets you go gladly. You pack up, finishing your drink, and when you leave your table, you notice just how many people were staring at you.
Still are.
You really embarrassed yourself in front of a crowd, huh?
As the daughter of rich parents, owning a huge ass clothing brand, this isn’t something you should’ve done. But you pray and hope that you won’t wake up to a headline, or that journalists won’t interpret your little feud as a reason to break up or some nonsense like that.
Trouble in Heaven, they’d call it. Predictable little cockroaches.
You trudge past the customers with a deep breath in; Jungkook doesn’t seem to care much, because he walks ahead, hands in the pockets of his linen cotton slacks. Doesn’t look around.
Only bids Taehyung and Eun goodbye; tells you to buckle up when the two of you get in your car; curses once or twice when he misses the green light by a second.
And when you’re at home, sighing as the night approaches its end, you shake your head. Unbelievable whatever transpired back at that place. And you thought you were warming up to each other again.
Guess it’s your fault this time.
Which is why you hum when he calls your name, watching you put on your nightwear; bed ready while you still need to take off your makeup.
His question baffles you; more so with the slightly irate tone.
“Will you still give me a good night’s kiss or?”
You roll your eyes. Don’t say anything; grab your skincare products before you get to work.
He sighs once more; you see the shake of his head before you disappear into the bathroom, hear him say, “Whatever.”
But when you come out with a light rosy scent on your skin and jump under your blanket, you still shift towards his slowly drifting body. His arm under his head, eyes closed, lower lip pouting that you target carefully and—
Press the lightest kiss against.
Immediately, you turn around. Imitate his position.
He doesn’t reach out to you as he usually does, pulling you into his arms. But you still feel the petal-soft brush of tender fingers against your arm before the touch retracts again — and eventually, you fall asleep.
WEDNESDAY
The only reason Jungkook accompanied you to the laundromat is because your clothes gathered into a huge mountain. Neglecting your responsibilities at home, you brought two bags, and he insisted on helping you out.
It's late afternoon. Work tired you out, dinner is still pending; you don’t want to be here. And the place is empty; a yawning void. Just you, alone with your tank-top and grey-blue zip up hoodie clad, messy-haired boyfriend.
The retro plastic laundromat seats tired him out, so he’s standing at the far back. His eyes follow the tossing and turning of the clothes in the washing machine, and sometimes, they trail back to you.
And you — you’re sitting in a corner, arms folded, still uncertain whether you should wait for an apology or opt for one yourself.
The distance is childish. You’re way more mature than that.
But your fight is childish, too, and you guess sometimes, even healthy couples fall back into kindergarten routines.
Once the clothes are done and dry, the journey back home approaching, he helps you out. Tramps to you, mutters a little, “Gimme. I’ll take this.”
The bag strap drags his hoodie off his shoulder a little, revealing the flowery tattoo. He doesn’t fix it; lost in thoughts and silent until home. As if he wants to say something, but doesn’t.
In the apartment, he asks, “Dinner or takeout?”
And you, learning and indisputably craving his affection in any shape or form, answer, “We can make dinner.”
“I’ll do it. Get some rest.”
You sigh in relief. There’s solace in your gratitude — today was arduous, much like the preceding days of this week. You bide your time until he’s done, and then help him set the table and clean the kitchen.
The evening passes without any hostility, but ends without many gestures of fondness, too.
THURSDAY
“You don’t need to come, too. I bet you’ve other stuff to do.”
Jungkook adjusts to your steps. He snatched a jacket way too insufficient for the frosty weather, but he won’t hurry if you don’t. Doesn’t stray from your side.
So you walk faster. Then he does, too.
He rubs his nose, shrugs a shoulder and responds, “I’ve nothing much to do today, really.”
“Yeah, but,” you pull at the sleeves of his jacket, urging him to rush through the wind, “you’ll get bored. And I’m a big girl.”
“I know that. But it’ll be fine. Wanna make sure you’re okay, too.”
He nudges your elbow. You can’t pinpoint whether he’s daring an attempt to set things right or is genuinely concerned. Or both. In some way, the tension between you lingers, and you can’t shake off the awkward feeling just yet.
So you only nod, holding off an answer for a moment. Staring ahead, you listen to the soft sounds of the city, blinded by headlights soon passing you by. A bit longer and the first snow will fall.
The consoling feeling of winter days draws closer, feels warm despite the frigid wind. Hot chocolatesque. There’s just something about wool shawls and warm jackets and old, animated Christmas movies.
One thing you miss about living in your parents’ big, fancy house in your very old neighbourhood is the chimney. The soft yellow and orange of the crackling fire, melting the cold over your skin.
Sometimes you’d sit on the fleecy white carpet, protected by a thick, warm turtleneck sweater, watching the dancing flames.
You wonder again — if Jungkook and you are truly written in the stars as one, will you move into a bigger place one day? Save money and expand the comfort of the current apartment, investing in even more soothing walls with a couple little additions.
Not the lush, exaggerated luxury you grew up with. Not necessarily anything snobby.
But casual, domestic things, like a fire side you can sit in front of, drinking tea, slow dancing and giggling in the dark. Lit by the chimney fire; familiarity.
You sigh.
“It’s been long since I went to the dentist, too,” Jungkook then says, and you hum. That’s sudden.
“You should go then.”
“Yeah,” he says, eyes darting from your face to your hands. You unintentionally bury them in the pockets of your jacket the moment he reaches out for you; and when he understands that you didn’t notice, he curls his fingers into fists. “Maybe I can get an appointment now? Do they take walk-ins?”
You furrow your eyebrows. “I don’t know.” Then, upon realisation, you laugh a little and say, “I’m not going to the dentist.”
“What?”
“What?” You stare back with eyes as big as his. “Optometrist, Koo.”
His raised eyelids are nothing new. He’s attentive when it comes to you; recognises, notices and remembers every little thing. But you guess he truly has been tired, too.
And you feel bad for not considering it as much as he considered it. The reason he cooked for you in the first place, right?
You press your lips into a line, stare down to a puddle on the ground; an aftermath of the rain.
“Oh,” he makes, “why did I think we were going to— Sorry. My bad.”
In actuality, you did wonder if he knew. He didn’t ask questions when you told him you were leaving; simply announced he was going with. You were pulling socks over your ankles as his rushing form scurried across the room.
You guessed he’d figured it out. But the fact that he was ready to accompany you without a certain clue where you were heading makes you a little giddy.
Clearing your throat, you clarify, “No worries. It’s about that pain in my eyes. Remember?”
You wouldn’t be mad if he didn’t. Preceding your fight by perhaps a couple minutes, you don’t think the tiny statement still holds any relevance to him anymore.
Right?
Wrong.
“Yeah,” he answers, “yeah, of course. You thought it was an infection.”
“Mhm,” you hum, ignoring the butterfly wing slamming against your insides, “I’m so sure it’s an infection.” You click your tongue. “Itch first, and now it gives me migraines.”
“Yeah, you told me… But. It’s nothing serious, I just know.”
You look at his sculpted side profile.
You know him. Jungkook doesn’t actually know, of course — that’s not why he’s saying that he does.
But because hope is better than pure uncertainty; and he likes trying to manifest. He believes in little miracles like this. Knocks on wood a lot, tries not to voice potential disasters in case they might actually roll around.
So you take the reassurance. Walk to the clinic in silence. Attempt more small talk in the waiting room until they drench your corneas in those odd, blinding eye drops, dilating your pupils.
The brief, quick tests follow; the assistant is young and gentle, and you try your best to be a good patient. She seems to enjoy your temporarily formal behaviour, perfected in the years you grew to be a reputable heir.
You drop it once you’re in the waiting room again, awaiting the final consultation and results.
Jungkook is a restless companion. No matter how irritating, you’re used to the constant swaying and the movements of his legs. One might think he is anxious for you, eyes locking on the head doc’s office door every now and then.
Yet, he wonders, “Are you nervous?”
“Nervous?” you repeat, breathing out a tiny, amused laugh. “Nah. He’s really nice. And it’s just some eye stuff.”
“Well, eyes are important.”
The words come out quickly, but the last syllable dies gradually.
You smile.
Jungkook sometimes reminisces about a time when he’d hide from relatives or eat lunch at the back of class back in elementary school. He tires out the term introvertness, and you repeatedly retort with a certain ambivertness.
At times, he’s loud, flirty, annoying and confident — gives you a hard time believing that he ever averted a girl’s gaze or hid behind his cousins.
But then… there are moments when you see it.
Like now.
The puffy cheeks, the youthful pout, the big, big eyes flashing to the ground. Unsure what to say, unsure what you’re thinking of him.
Until he gulps, keeping his voice quiet and low as he continues, “Have you ever had a private optometrist?”
Huh. Not a question you expected. You guess starting the week with a discussion about wealth makes him think of such things these days.
“Yeah,” you say, shifting in your seat. You can still not see him clearly; his features are blurry, and you squint. “When I was younger. Big, bright places and top notch equipment.”
“Why did you stop?”
“I mean… It's not like usually used equipment, like here, is any worse than theirs. Also, same reason as why I went to a public college. Normalcy, I guess.”
“Odd.”
“…Why?”
“Because,” he draws a sharp breath, staring ahead. “Despite all the normalcy, you’re as extraordinary as can get. Money or not.”
A heartbeat passes. Among the sounds of the quiet chatter around you and the ads in the TV at lowest volume, your breath mingles with the hushed noises like a whisper.
His slowly blinking eyes are genuine, your reflection in his dark brown orbs clear. White dots sparkle like constellations in the sky, bright and plenty. It’s nice that they remind you of the sentimentality in his heart after every single serious or dumb, big or small fight.
For a moment, you keep looking. Your fingers twitch, urging to reach out, but as they start moving off your knee, you hear a call of your name.
Jungkook leans back, clearing his throat, smiles at you as you get to your feet and meet the doctor’s stare, kindly gesturing inside the examination room.
A couple more tests, a friendly conversation, more orders from his side before he gives you a diagnosis and a prescription.
And when you head out, Jungkook’s still sitting right where you left him. One leg restless again, leaning forwards, arms on his thighs and hands intertwined. His head is hanging between his shoulders; even from afar, you see his lashes move, eyes slowly blinking.
You can’t quite explain it, but you love this point of view — when you can see his parted lips, the lower one pillowy, partly hidden behind his button nose. Cheeks round. You truly do love this watching-from-above-angle.
Even though it clearly suggests he’s bored out of his mind. Beyond done with this place, but still here, waiting for you.
You clutch the strap of your bag again, sighing, and then move towards him with light steps. The back of your fingers reaches out then, brushing against his temple a tiny moment before he detects your shoes and looks up.
“Oh. That was fast,” he says; his eyes are drooping. He had a long morning in the attic. “What did he say?”
He gets off the seat, moving his stiff neck and cracking it a little, hand flashing up to his shoulder. You explain, “I need eye drops. Two to three times a day.”
“Ah. Then we could get them right now.”
You nod, allowing a little smile, telling him as you head out, “My eyes are okay, though. Somehow, my vision has improved, too.”
Jungkook’s lips form an excited Oh, but when he sees your expression, he says, “But you seem bummed about it.”
Ah. Well.
You feel ungrateful thinking that way, but…
“In some way?” you admit. “I’d rather have an infection that can be fixed with antibiotics and won’t come back so easily instead of… you know. Having to constantly rely on eye drops. It just sounds so permanent.”
Another deep sigh; you’re exhausted as well. “And I’ll have to remember to use them.”
“Hmm,” he voices, holding the door open for you. He zips his jacket close as you step out; an immediate breath cloud forming when he exhales. “Set an alarm, yeah?”
“Yeah. Just knowing myself…”
“I’ll remind you then.”
The suggestion is immediate, albeit accompanied by a seemingly nonchalant shrug of his shoulder; jacket’s sleeves adorably pulled over his hands.
“Once in the morning. You set an alarm for lunch and then I remind you again when you take your birth control pill at night. Yeah?”
The bitter feeling of the fight vanishes a little; you try to ignore the residual awkwardness, apologies probably still due. But right now, your conversation follows a different path, so you settle on a soft, little, “Thank you, Kook.”
He always does that. Remind you of your meds.
Your vitamins, your pills, that one nose spray hydrating your nose flora to prevent your mucosa from drying out or whatever your ENT doc told you. He did last night, too.
He always does — even if it means forgetting about his own responsibilities.
You blink a couple times, rubbing your eyelids before you admit, “Still hurts. Can barely see… and the streetlamps are so bright?”
“Lemme look.”
He stops in his tracks and you follow; his hand catches your wrist, pulling your fingers away from your eyes, and you turn to him slowly. You’re still attempting to clear your vision, so he orders, “Stop blinking.”
And once you do, he moves in. Takes your face in his already warm hands, staring, squinting, humming. He looks focused, and you raise your eyebrows, waiting for a conclusion until he finally mutters, “Damn.”
“What?”
He seems impressed. Looks a bit longer. You repeat, “What? Are they red? Swollen or something?”
“Nah,” he lets your face go, already stepping back as if dodging your proximity. “But,” he starts; you stare like a puppy, only breaking when he adds, “they’re pretty as fuck.”
Your playful punch rises as if on instinct.
One part of your relationship that never changed was your bicker, starting with annoyance and morphing into frisky, flirty remarks. You consider it the foundation of what makes the two of you a unit.
You grit your teeth, but can’t bite back the smile.
“Dude,” you scold, and he covers his arm instinctively, evading the punch looming over him.
But you don’t deliver it after all, dropping your hand, shaking your head instead. You say, “If you hadn’t helped me survive today, I’d—”
You steer towards him, attempting another scare, and he plays along with a flinch just before he starts laughing again. Hums and nods emphasise his words when he agrees, “You survived like a true champ. A big girl, you said, right?”
“Sure am.”
“Mhm. …My big girl?”
“Gross. Shut up.”
The atmosphere will stay odd for a while. That’s okay, you guess. At least it allows for a bit of amusement, hard to hide as you smile a little, bite your lip.
You lower your head, veiling your beam behind your hair, but you know he sees. Matches your smile — perhaps even a bit brighter than your own.
FRIDAY
The fast approaching weekend usually eases a week’s tension. But considering the mounting workload you tackled today and the endless Saturday you’ll be dealing with very soon, your muscles don’t relax just yet.
Imprisoned behind the bars of work, your thoughts circle around the schedule for tomorrow. In that sense, you come home late and can’t quite bother with the stress that spread throughout the first half of the week.
Jungkook already scarfed down tonight’s dinner, comfortably laying in bed and balancing the laptop on his stomach. From the sound of it, he’s watching videos of various genres.
Sitting on the living room couch and indulging in a short story for just a bit, you hear the enthusiastic voices of chefs rattling down recipes every now and then. It’s a hobby of his, but you can’t help but feel bad.
He studies those YouTube videos to improve his cooking skills, and you, ungratefully, leave the rest of his effort in the goddamn fridge. You sigh.
If you had the energy and will to talk it out, you’d do it now. You couldn’t all day.
He was still asleep when you left, and after work, you went to a brief dinner with a coworker to dash through details for tomorrow. Looking at the plan, you hope for at least a sliver of fun amidst the photoshoot chaos.
When you returned home, Jungkook was gaming right where you’re sitting now. You showered, only to find him back in the bedroom, with his eyes glued to said laptop. And now, as you approach the bed to end the night, he walks past you with falling eyelids.
He rubs them with the back of his tattooed hand, a tired pout on his face contradicting the seemingly badass image that the ink usually gives him. Hard shell, soft core and all.
“Be right ba—,” Jungkook’s hazy voice informs, last syllable broken by a yawn. “Go to bed, okay?”
His palm moves across your upper arm as he passes you by, and you nod, steering towards the inviting, warm mattress. Its surface melts with your body when you drop. God, you’re exhausted; can barely think.
You don’t think it’ll take you particularly long to drift away; and just when your consciousness slips, you feel an arm around you.
A soft hug, enveloping you. He drops his face to yours, lips gently pressing against your cheek for a moment before he adjusts the blanket over the two of you.
A current of warmth courses through your veins, and you draw a deep, long breath of affection when he cuddles into you. He must be thinking you’re asleep but slowly falling out of dreams, because he pulls you in and rubs your arm.
An effective tactic he usually wields to help you fall asleep.
He puts a leg gently over yours, his body so close to yours that you feel bits of the combustion of your heart.
Because…
Despite your stupid feud, you’re kind of happy that he’s joined you under the thin blanket, pressing more featherlight kisses against your scalp. Sighs against it.
And you can’t withhold the smile when he brushes over your clothed tummy and whispers, “My feisty little girl.”
SATURDAY
You remember to unclench your jaw.
The stress hardens your muscles. Your limbs are stiff, eyes unblinking until they dry out. Fingers wrapped around your phone, you hold the device firmly, shutting out the telling vibrations of notifications.
This cannot be.
There are a hundred fires burning around you. Erupted chaos causes panic, and in the middle of it are you, clueless and vexed beyond measure.
It’s one thing cancelling a shoot a couple days before it takes place — and another thing to call sick at the very last moment. You didn’t think the model would ditch you like this… but now that he has, you can’t figure out how to replace the missing piece of the shoot.
Your troubled co-workers call out a dozen names, but you don’t say a word, gazing around with a crease between your eyebrows.
This whole thing needs to be out in the open by Friday, and the photographers and editors need time. So, postponing this to Monday and the release of the ads to another weekend won’t work, right?
No.
You’re at the headquarters of this brand. And you’re one of the organisers of this shoot and project. Every single shop will need to postpone if you do.
Unprofessional. Goes against the schedule.
The complaints are still on full blast when you see a calm movement from the corner of your eye. You move your head to the left, peeking through the glass door, and on the other side awaits—
A wide-eyed man, staring inside, observing the tumult like he’s stepped into the jungle. He’s wearing a white shirt, tucked into jeans, long bangs hanging into his eyes and enhancing the sweet gaze so wonderfully.
Pieces of your stress melts — but you still can’t figure out why he’s standing there.
You walk to the door automatically, throwing a tiny smile when he detects you among the staff. A big hand waves in tiny, and you open to let him in.
“Hey,” you greet, pushing back to where you stood before. He follows. “What are you doing here?”
As you come to a stand, he puts a hand on your waist lightly, drawing close to press a kiss to your temple. Then, he responds, “Picking you up?”
“Wh—”
Oh. Shit.
You were going to go out and celebrate the end of the stressful week. He’d suggested it last weekend because he already knew how hectic today would be.
Ughhhh.
You’re terrible.
Jungkook realises your forgetfulness the moment your expression changes into a guilty one. His curious, innocent look drops with his eyebrows, and he sighs when you say, “I’m sorry, Kook.”
When he stares down at his shoes, you feel a wave of shame; the noise around you fades for just a second as he half sullenly, half disappointedly asks, “Really?”
“I swear… It’s not my fault.”
It’s not an excuse; not a lie.
He looks disheartened; knowing him, stupid argument or not, he was probably looking forward to this. Fuck, you feel bad.
Despite his obvious drop in mood, he doesn’t say anything much. Instead, he nods and assures, “It’s fine. What happened?”
You look around again. From afar, you see a coworker approach. She looks hopeful and you take the crumbs, but you still explain, “Everything should be done by now. We got most of the pictures, but… one of the guys bailed on us.”
“Shit, really? What now?”
You shrug your shoulders, once again racking your brain for a solution. People here are counting on you, but it’s not you who brings the very first somewhat reasonable suggestion of today.
Only somewhat reasonable, though.
Because the coworker approaching ogles at Jungkook like a pirate at a treasure, pupils big and wondering as she suddenly says, “Hold. Did you come up with that?”
You blink.
Then ask, “What?”
“You called him here?”
“What?” you repeat, a confused, little parrott.
She rolls her eyes, “He,” she points at Jungkook with a thumb, “is not allowed in here. Usually. So I assumed you called him as a replacement.” She tilts her head. “And he’s freaking perfect!”
Per—
What? No, no, no. That’s absolutely nothing you planned or permitted.
“No?” Instinctively, you take a step to the side, right in front of his broad shoulders as if to protect him from harm. You argue, “He’s not a model. He’s an artist.”
From behind, you hear, “I’m just an artist.”
“Yeah, but,” she throws back, “you’re art, too. I won’t lie.”
Another step back until your back almost touches his chest. His fingertips graze your hip, as a warning before you stumble over his feet. You can imagine the subtle rosy dust on his cheek; he’s fond of compliments.
As everyone is, you suppose. But.
“Hey, careful,” you tell her, disguising it as a joke, but feeling the lightest burn in your stomach when he laughs at her words.
She raises her pretty lips to a prettier smile, nodding in reassurance as she promises, “Yes, I know he’s taken.”
Another quiet chuckle from behind you, and you cock an eyebrow before he changes the topic and admits, “Seriously, I’m not a model at all and barely know what these things are like…”
To which she waves off his concerns and explains, “Oh, you just need to look good. We’d put some make up and clothes on you, a few pics and we’re done.”
Sounds easy enough. A bit like an insult to actual models, kind of putting those to shame who ran across stages for years to study, internalise and perfect their movements.
But you don’t correct her because you’re desperate, too. And right now, this sounds the easiest.
Still, he murmurs, “I’m not sure.”
“I understand if not,” she says. Her tone changes, fragments of frustration in it. “It’s just that we’re running out of options.”
Once more, you play out the upcoming week mentally. Postponing the last shoot. Postponing the release. Postponing the seasonal launch.
None of this is your fault, but you’d still be the one to get all the wary looks.
As if on cue, Jungkook squeezes your hip, and you look at him with worry painted across your face. You know he sees it immediately, but he still asks, “Is it that bad?”
You nibble at your lip, putting a hand over his as you say, “Yeah. We do need someone.”
“Is that allowed? Can I just replace a guy?”
“I’m technically the boss here, so you’d just need my permission,” you take a breath and then click your tongue, “I mean, usually we’d just reschedule, but we don’t have the time and those shoots already take hours. And in your case, we’d do all the paperwork, contract stuff later.”
“Would it help you?”
He’s considerate. Even in a stressful moment like this, the gentle tone, the deep care makes you weak. The answer’s already clear, but you still tell him, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Again, it… might take up to two hours or so.”
“But it’d help you, babe, wouldn’t it? Unless you don’t want me to. Then I won’t.”
You don’t have a single problem with this; in fact, you’d be happy to put him in front of a camera. His genuine thoughtfulness liquefies you — you’re a puddle at this point.
“Oh, I… Jungko—”
Juri intrudes, “I’m sorry,” carefully, she inches closer, nodding over her shoulder, “Just wanna say that we have a lot of designers in our team. They do logos and make the posters and all. Maybe, if they saw you — because the country already knows you as her artistic man from newspapers — they could teach you some digital art stuff.”
“I…” Jungkook starts. He’s probably thinking the same — which he confirms when he adds, “I’m not sure how me modelling for you might relate to artistic stuff. But I already know a lot about digital art.”
Yeah, exactly. Of course he does; what else did he wade through college for throughout these years?
“But,” she lifts a finger, infinite force in one word already, “have you ever tried expensive equipment and all?”
Oh oh. You feel bad.
Is that the group of society you represent? Maybe you guys are a little pretentious after all, dealing and seducing with money.
But he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t dare to challenge her when he steps next to you and says, “I can do it, but not for that digital art offer.” He puts a hand on your back, rubbing lightly and briefly, “For her.”
You fold your arms under your chest; less to show dominance, but more to press against the butterflies. There’s a type of nausea falling in love elicits, deep in your stomach where everything appears so surreal and beautiful that it makes you oddly sick.
The first time your pupils took on their heart shape was the first moment Jungkook practised that effect on you; made you realise what inevitable emotions he was pulling you into.
That effect has not faltered; your guts still twist.
At least, for a couple minutes.
Because the second your coworker-vultures attack him and drag him to the back room, something changes. Nervousness, you guess. You know the clothes that are awaiting him, but stepping out of makeup and into the spotlight leaves you gasping for air.
From afar, he’s leering at you.
Wearing a snow white shirt, tucked into his pants, priorly tousled hair still messy but styled in curls. Yes, you might know your collection — but you didn’t think it’d fit him like second skin.
Why did you doubt it, though? Jungkook could wear a trash bag and still compete against Adonis.
For a moment, he stands still, entangling his fingers, looking around. Then, he’s smiling in uncertainty, awkwardly putting his hands on his tiny waist, waiting for directions.
Juri tip-toes towards you, as if you’re filming a scene in a drama. She pulls the clipboard to her chest, one digit pointing to your struggling man before she says, “He’s adorable.”
You nod. “I wonder how he’ll do.”
“Well, yeah,” she murmurs, half distracted; but then she averts her eyes from him, looking from your nervous lips up to your furrowed eyebrows before she assures, “Worst case scenario, we’ll postpone. End of story. At least we tried.”
“Hmm… Well, let’s hope it won’t be that case.”
Which, you soon realise, it certainly isn’t.
A couple professional suggestions by the director and Jungkook gets into position. The initial movements of his hands and body are a little strange and awkward, and you can’t help but want to pull him from this chaos and wrap him in a fuzzy blanket.
But the seemingly feigned adorable stance soon shifts into something unexpectedly dangerous when he raises his chin. Thumbs in the pockets of his jeans, he relaxes his body, lips suddenly forming a tempting, slight pout.
He doesn’t usually look like that…
“Wow,” you whisper, faintly registering Juri’s fascinated nod from the side.
This is still a harmless pose, you think; one the director dared him to do. But you’re surprised by the sudden confidence, the way Jungkook doesn’t fumble or stutter or question anything.
Some of his softness shines through the moment the photographer gives a thumbs up, a tattooed hand cracking the fingers of the others. Doe eyes back, he leans forwards as if he could peek at the pictures like that, asking cautiously, “That okay?”
He looks different. Why does he look different?
“That was great! Perfect start. I promise the rest is just as easy,” the team encourages him, asking him to monitor the pictures they just took.
Jungkook walks to the strangers in slow steps, chest behind the tight, white top heaving once. On his way, he looks up to you instinctively, throwing the same thumbs up at you with a questioning gaze.
And you, still baffled, smile.
Watch as he converses with the people, his grin wide when he likes what he sees — an instant confidence boost, though you still see the nervousness in his stance. Where was any of it when they clicked the photos?
As if a demon possessed him for just a minute. Dual and dangerous.
Then again, he’s not very different in your daily life. A celestial soul on some days, catering to your every whim, never letting your feet touch the ground.
And a beast on others, inhaling your sounds like a starving incubus, never heaving your body off the mattress.
The duality doesn’t disappear with this very first outfit.
When some music starts playing and they tell him to move freely, filming the sequences for the ads, your eyeballs nearly fall out of your eyes. And you finally realise why he looks so different now.
Because the moment his thumb touches his lower lip, mimicking a wiping motion (much like he does after kissing you sometimes), you see the silver-plated jewellery glimmering from all the way from the set.
Lip ring.
Whose idea…
“What did you do back there?” you ask, near-panicking, your heart dropping into your panties.
Juri flinches, asking, “What?”
“Is that a lip ring? You gave him a—”
You puff out a breath; it’s immensely difficult to be mad at him like this. He’s been looking…
“Shouldn’t we have?” her tiny voice asks; her body shrinks a little.
“I mean. I just. It wasn’t planned.”
“Yeah, but look how amazing he looks.”
You’re seeing it, alright.
The subtle touches, the light tugging at his shirt. Movements just right. He looks all serious, like a beast, hotter than motherfucking hell. Transports your saliva into your windpipe with each look he sports.
Until you actually feel yourself choking and gagging once he leaves and comes back for the next shoot twenty minutes later.
Because why on Earth did they omit the shirt under the grey blazer?
You’re close to dashing to costume and makeup, confronting them to ask why they chose to toy with your sanity like this. Because… the lip ring is still there. His hair is suddenly slicked back. Fingers adorned with rings.
And he looks so goddamn good.
Maybe it’s your fault. You told them you trusted them, and that they were supposed to do as they pleased. And they are… they so are.
All of him, like a strong magnet, pulls you in, but you keep your feet firmly on your spot, cementing yourself in place. There’s something incredibly attractive about the way he presents himself — new, talented.
You’re fidgety, a sexually frustrated observer when he touches his jacket, pulling it open just a little. The inked hand is veiny; you see it from here, too. The light gesture allows glimpses of his chest.
Small, perked, brown nipples. Lines and ripples of his abs firm. Ending in his V-line, hidden behind the peeking underwear and blue, baggy jeans.
Heavy chains are already menacing when he shuts his eyelids and parts his lips. Worse when he leans forwards, hazy eyes staring into the camera as if he’s about to devour the camerawoman.
Jeon Jungkook is a hazardous danger to society. The world will want him — and he’ll only want you.
Fuck.
You’re drooling. Drowning in your own puddle. Crossing your legs.
And when they tell him to sit, ordering to open the button of his jeans and push it down his hips just a bit, the little yous in your brain wreak havoc.
A fire starts in the organised office of your mind, red sirens blaring, and you look at Juri as you ask, “Why is he naked?! Why’s the blazer off his shoulder?!!”
“Because,” she defends, hiding behind the clipboard; it’s not her fault. That’s what the other model would’ve done, too. “Underwear ads!”
You’re aware. You just didn’t think it’d be Jungkook ending up in this position. Perhaps you didn’t think it through; didn’t know what it’d do to you.
But his effect pools in your lower stomach; so intense, you might cry.
“What the fuck,” you mumble when he takes the jacket off, sitting up and improvising all of a sudden. A hand covers his mouth, the blazer thrown over his shoulder. “What’s the point of holding it? He’s not even wearing it.”
“Because,” she starts again, “we’re focusing on the underwear.” Where’s the focus on the underwear? You can barely see it. Are people plotting against you? “It’s okay.” She pats your shoulder. “No one’s gonna touch him, love.”
You bite your lip. You know.
You aren’t distressed because you’re mad. But because knowing that everybody will crave him and nobody will get him turns you on more.
The fact that you’re the only one he’ll look at with those starry eyes; with the hunger in his gaze. The only one he’ll press into your bed, lips close to your ears, whispering endearments and filthy, little promises.
This man wants you, and you can barely handle that truth.
New thoughts and ideas form in your mind, too wild and desperate to be occurring right in this moment. So you mentally whoosh them away, holding on for the rest of the neverending shoot until a round of genuine applause sounds around the big set.
God. Okay. Hours of torture later, and he’s done.
A shy bow. No. This monster might convince anyone else, but you know he’s not as innocent as he gives himself.
He jogs over to you, says quietly enough for only you to hear, “Don’t tell them, but that was great.” You can imagine. He backs away, looks down to his defined abs, “I need to change. And then we can head home, they said.”
You blink, perplexed and still out of words. Which he struggles to interpret, looking over his shoulder and then back to you. Unsure, he adds, “Unless you need to wrap things up.”
When a random shout echoes through the room, you awake, inhaling deeply before you tell him, “No, I. I mean, yeah, we’ll wrap things up, but that shouldn’t take too long. Should be mostly done when you are.”
He nods. Waves, and then steers towards the others, shaking hands and exchanging smiles. Short convos. Then, to the back room.
You’re too out of your mind and tired to chat much with staff. You go through the next steps, talk about waiting for the editor to be done with the photos, list the leftover things on your to-do list before the winter launch.
And that’s it. You meet Jungkook at the exit to the hallway, relieved when the end of the day approaches. On your way back home, you converse lightly, though he stops when you yawn one too many times.
He lets you rest as you pass shops and traffic lights, and holds your hand when you get off the vehicle. Drags you up the stairs; the climb is arduous. And then allows you to get ready for your slumber in peace.
The second the back of your head collides with the cold pillow, your eyes drop shut. The world spins behind your tired eyelids, adjusting to the darkness and the silence.
A sigh of relief pushes out of your mouth; a profound sense of tranquillity calms your lit nerves. Jungkook, next to you, seems just as exhausted because the yawn as soon as he slips under the covers is long and tear-inducing.
He’s blinking away the dampness of fatigue when you look over to him; you haven’t talked much since you arrived home, but Jungkook uses the moment to say, “I had a lot more fun than I expected to have.”
You’re so incredibly thankful for his last-minute rescue. But you can’t help but think of the muscles and expressions an hour prior. The seductive gaze, the lip accessory, the ring-clad fingers.
Perhaps it’s because of the time of the month, but you feel vexed by how affected you feel.
You control your tone, though the word still sounds monotone when you say, “Good.”
Catching upon it immediately, he shifts slowly, sniffling and head propping up on his hand before he asks, “Did you not like it?”
“Oh no, I mean,” you start, “you were amazing. I just didn’t know they’d send you out naked for the world to see. Thought the plan was to close a couple buttons.”
“The stylists told me. I think it was a spontaneous change because—”
You glance at him when he hesitates. A sly smile spreads across his features, just a little guilty yet amused as he watches your curiosity grow.
“What?” you ask.
“Nevermind.”
“Don’t be mean.”
“It’s nothing!” he exclaims. “We just thought it’d look cool. I thought you’d like it, too, actually.”
You did. That’s the issue. You liked it enough for it to burn into your mind, and now you can’t shake the image anymore.
No matter how many times you’ve seen him butt naked, buried inside you without a gap between your skin — something about his confidence and eyes stirred an unknown level of desire in you.
But you can’t tell him. Because the thing you want won’t be possible right now. You keep your thoughts veiled.
Instead, you unleash your annoyance because God, you hate him for being so hot.
“Right,” is all you say.
“Hey, don’t worry. Even if they ask, I’m not doing this again.”
“Might make you famous, though,” you mumble.
He snorts, fingers sneaking to your tummy, “So what? That’s not my profession. I didn’t study to become a model. Will work on my actual efforts.”
“Okay.”
The single word forces a sigh out of him, and he shakes his head, tapping his fingers against your stomach as he whispers your name thrice. Like he’s scolding you.
And then, “Are you jealous?”
“No,” you spit without hesitation, “of whom?”
You’re not. And you know that just for the moment, he won’t believe you. Which is fine. You’ll tell him the truth once your period’s over for the month.
“Of people who might see me and like what they see.”
Okay. Jerk.
At this point, he is doing it on purpose. You see it in the cocky smile and the jesting tone and the way his fingertips draw circles over your shirt, itching to sneak underneath the fabric.
You know him.
He’s so annoying.
“No,” you repeat.
“You sure? Huh?” Fuck, not that sulky voice. You close your eyes, but he raises your chin, making your head move. “Look at me, angel.”
“Hmm?”
“You said no, but you do look a little fiery,” he tells you. Yeah, if he knew that the real reason doesn’t lie in envy or whatever the world thinks of him. “What? My girl is jealous of people I won’t even perceive?”
No.
But she does feel the tickling, flattering lust pooling in her lower stomach, Jeon, thank you very much.
“Jungkook,” you start, although breathier when he moves closer, towards your neck. “Don’t be annoying.”
Which triggers a slightly mocking tone; he tuts before he says, “Baby bails on our date today. Will fight me in a restaurant. And then I’m annoying?”
Your answer is immediate and as shameless as can be.
“Yes.”
And it makes him laugh. Hot and sudden against your skin, his breath makes you shiver more than the relentless cold outside ever could.
“Not gonna lie,” he begins, “that brat behaviour isn’t too terrible.”
“Shut the fuck up, you just—”
He just what? You don’t know. Your sentence floats between you when his nose raises your chin, freeing the path to your neck before he’s nuzzling it slowly.
You feel goosebumps at the back of your neck, hair standing up, tingles across your body where you didn’t deem them possible. Under the blanket, your legs shift, and he hurries to move one of his between yours.
Hand still on your shirt, he places a barely-there, soft kiss to your neck; his fine tresses tickle your face and you crumble.
You have long forgotten your unfinished sentence, but he hasn’t. Asks, “What?”
You bury your nails into his arm, intrigued by the little hiss followed by a subtle laugh. Growing in volume when you say, “I kinda hate you right now.”
“Oh yeah,” he agrees, stretching the second word, “I hate you, too. Absolutely loathe you.”
You silence. Hold onto him when he French kisses between your neck and shoulder. And then breathe, “Then go away.”
“Mhh. Maybe I should.”
“Maybe…”
And then, out of the blue, his teeth dig into your neck like a gentle vampire, stopping immediately when you wince desperately. A hot tongue soothes the bite, a strong hand pushing you down by your shoulder again when your body lifts off the bed just a bit.
He keeps you in place, moving to your jaw. And when you whimper in lust and want, navigating his leg closer to your core, he curses, “Fucking hell, babe.”
Then, he’s inhaling, fingers wandering from your shoulder to your wrist as lips finally clash.
His body moves half onto yours, slowly gauging your reaction to the kiss as if he’s still expecting the burst of cumulated emotions. But when you give into his gesture, granting him your tongue, his face moves further against yours.
Undecided fingers let your wrist go, getting ahold of a patch of your hair. You hold his arms again until you wrap yours around him, fingers on the nape of his neck as you pull him in.
You tilt your heads in unison, deepening the kiss, drinking him up. Let him open your lips with his, keeping them like that, tips of your tongues playing with each other.
His touch drops to your waist and down to your pyjamas, pushing them down a little, grazing your panties. But then, his teasing palm floats up again and settles over one of your tits, squeezing once and drawing a telling moan out of you.
No bra.
He loves your little habits. You live through them casually, never noticing how badly they empty his mind.
Seems your head is blanking just as much at his touches; because you look delirious, lost, breathing in and out heavily. Jungkook basks in the expression, pushing a hand to your neck.
And only when he presses in gently, trapping you in place, do you seem to wake.
Eyes shoot open, and you inhale deeply, as if saved from drowning; remember every bit of today. The lines of his abs. The lip ring. The jewellery on his fingers.
You could ask for him to go on, to wreck you thoroughly. But of all arguments stopping you from doing so, there’s one damn reason that asks to prevent the mess.
Fucking period. Would create a literal bloody chaos. And you’re exhausted.
The thing is — if you asked him, you know he’d give it to you.
He’s reckless and careless. But you can’t risk the state of your sheets and the state of your mind. You have more work to do tomorrow; also, if you continued now, you’d be tired and immobile tomorrow, you know — and you need to be awake for this.
Fully in your senses.
Ugh. Fuck.
And the last damn day of the red waterfall, too. Thinking about it, perhaps that’s the reason for your agitation this week.
In hindsight, you know you’re never bitchy like that — he didn’t give you the nickname of an angel for nothing, right? Fuck PMS. Fuck mood swings.
Your poor boy, enduring the wrath of it.
But maybe you need to act pissed just a bit longer because—
“What?” he asks.
It’s not the time. So you stop him, pushing him away lightly. Shake your head, calling forth a crease between your eyebrows, turning away just a bit.
He falls back, once again keeping his upper body up by his arm. Inquires, “I— are you still mad?”
Truthfully, you answer flatly, “I’m on my period.”
“So?” he answers, laughing until he sees your lips, pressed into a serious line. “I’m not scared of some blood.”
You knew it. He’d give in if you told him to.
But what you want can’t be received during this time of the month. What you want requires unhinged chaos, carelessness, breathlessness. Craze of many minutes, hours.
You want more than a short, cautious session that asks you to peek at the sheets and the towel you’d get every now and then. You want to fucking lose yourself in hi—
“Let’s not,” you answer, your tone nonchalant, “Just. Let’s go to sleep, alright?”
He murmurs your name, trying again; but when you turn on your belly, giving a last sign to end the night, you hear him groan quietly.
You grimace when his head falls onto the pillow with an angry thump, movements under the blanket agitated as he scolds, “My God. Alright. You wanna be pissed for an entire week, then be pissed. I can’t do more than that.”
Oof.
If he only knew. And something in you tells you that he will very soon.
SUNDAY
Too lazy to work through the preparation process in the kitchen, Jungkook and you quietly decide to spend lunch outside.
The café nearby is a place you’ve wanted to visit for quite some time now. And despite the flaky, dry sandwiches they served, you’re glad time passed quickly, the awkward conversations between you coming to an end.
When you return from the bathroom, the sky above looks grey. Desolate. The weather forecast predicted a surprisingly pleasant late fall day, but the approaching rain is obvious. Which, you anticipated more than the weather forecast did, really.
That’s why an umbrella is leaning against the leg of the table, and you grab it as you watch Jungkook fumble with his wallet, stuffing it into his back pocket.
He gulps down the last sip of his Matcha Latte, dimples above the corner of his lips as he smacks the taste away. Then, he gets to his feet, asks, “Ready to go?”
Absent-mindedly, you nod, glancing to the sky and then back to him again. He looks sweet and domestic; but you can’t quite take him seriously. Not necessarily because of the fight anymore.
It’s been far too many days to still dwell.
But because of the damn lip ring, the open jacket, the gelled back hair. His destructive expressions. Like he could devour you whole.
Jungkook doesn’t stay angry for a long time, you’ve noticed. He always tells you how his temper used to be worse as a teenager, but how he’s learned to control himself.
Agonies of childhood, relationships and friendships taught him patience. And you notice. You truly notice.
Because he hands you your purse sweetly, immediately stretching his palm towards you. A slight smile spreads across his face, and you respond with a weak one of yours. Take his hand and let him lead you home.
You’ll walk the short distance; it shouldn’t take longer than seven or eight minutes.
And as you approach home, the hand holding yours mimics the motions of the one gripping the umbrella — he brings both arms into swing, somewhat euphoric but casual when he says, “The food was so dry there.”
It’s odd, talking to him like that after several days again. But you nod slowly, and agree, “I know. But at least we know where not to go anymore.”
“Yeah. But I mean, great beverages.”
“The milkshake, too.”
He tugs you a little closer, elbows soon touching, “I still think you should’ve gotten something warmer. You get a cold fast,” he looks up with squinted eyes, “and it’s already chilly today.”
You squeeze his hand as a thank you; Jungkook cares for you in little, subtle ways, and you’d lie if you said you didn’t think of it every now and then. You answer, “I feel fine, though.”
“Okay. Hope that stays.”
His palm, soft in yours, shifts until he’s intertwining his fingers with yours, attempting a stronger grip. You lift your eyes from the ground to his face for a second, meeting a gentle smile, and feel more pieces of your heart split.
They wander through your body, along your arm and straight into his chest, merging with his own organ. If you could, you’d push him against one of the unlit lamp posts, parted lips opting for his, breathing into his mouth.
He infested your thoughts and stuck with you, no way to escape the moment you first fell for him. And somehow, he managed to keep this effect intact, digging deeper into your mind and making himself home every damn second of the day.
The desire you’ve been feeling doesn’t just stem from lip rings and talent behind the camera. But you also keep realising that you’re truly this man’s, and that this man is truly yours.
A hard truth to fathom when you’re the subject of interest to one unique Jeon Jungkook.
But you want all of him. Want him over you, around you, taking all of what no other guy will ever be allowed to touch. Want him to show you once again where you belong and that you’re in this for as long as his affection is aligned with yours.
Fuck. Home is too far away.
So you look away from him. Which he interprets in an entirely wrong way.
“Are you still mad at me?” he asks, an inquiry out of nowhere that has your eyebrows kissing.
“No,” you answer.
“You barely talk to me. And,” he halts to wipe away a raindrop. Guess the clouds are gathering. “And I miss you.”
Your ribs might break. He keeps doing this to you.
“I’m not mad, Kook. Was just PMS-ing before,” you try again, adding a nickname for good measure.
“You sure?”
Jungkook is a free-spirited soul, careless to a healthy degree most of the time. There are only a few things that break his composure; familial insecurities, shitty pasts — and then there’s you.
Topping his list of priorities, you’re the only aspect in his current life that pushes him into spirals of overthinking.
And right now, he’s in the middle one, requiring a thousand reassurances. You want to answer. You really do.
But the distraction from above proves too strong the second you open your mouth. In the middle of your walk, the clouds explode, roaring for a moment before a downpour suddenly showers onto you.
The raindrops are thick, the bursting clouds aggressive.
Instinctively, Jungkook opens the umbrella, hastily working on it, and once under it, your steps pick up on pace. You wrap an arm around your body, closing the jacket, hooking your other arm with his and pushing the two of you forward.
“Shit,” you say; you look up, but can barely see anything. Only hear the thunder.
The wind grows colder, grazing the skin of your face incessantly. Despite the umbrella, the merciless rain wets your cheeks, singular drops flying towards you. Jungkook’s hair covers his face, and he shakes them off his eyes.
You gasp when a literal newspaper flies past you.
“Come on,” you encourage, already shivering. “We can talk about it at home, okay?”
But surprisingly, incredibly lost in his own head, he doesn’t give in. He adjusts to your pace, holding the umbrella in a strong grip, sighs and argues, “We can talk about it anytime.”
“Not now.”
“But—”
“Kook, right now’s not the time for this.”
Holy shit.
This man is a phenomenon. And you wish he wasn’t serious, but you know that he is. A full-on simp-y fool, no matter what.
“You’ve avoided me all week,” he yells over the sounds of the rain, sniffling, looking at the storm ahead, “we won’t die. It’s just rain.”
“It’s a thunderstorm, you idiot!” you exclaim back, moving straight forward and past running passengers. You should be home soon. “And in a minute we won’t be able to see shit.”
Jungkook must be made of cement. Broad shoulders, a well-trained body and willpower seem to combat the storm when he suddenly halts in his steps.
Immediately, you grab the umbrella, keeping it from nearly flying away; and when you remain the only presence under it, you ogle back. Watch him stand there in his red-white jacket, getting soaked by Mother Nature.
What the fuck.
You rush back, grabbing his wrist, pulling him forward as much as you can as you reprimand, “What the hell are you doing? Come on.”
“You’ll talk to me if I do?”
“Jungkook, we’ll die here, I—”
You flinch and gasp when another strong wind blows, once and for all ripping the umbrella off your hand and making it fly a couple feet from you. You watch it break through the fog of rain, mouth wide open with a dozen curses on your tongue.
“Fuck,” you exclaim, gritting your teeth, “I will. Just please, okay?!”
He’s so annoying. The way he looks at you, breathing hard, white shirt drenched and sticking to his body. You tug at his arm, forcing him to run when you do.
It takes you two entire minutes, wordless as you wish them to be, to reach his street and apartment. You tremble in the hallways, rushing up the stairs, and eventually take a seconds-long breath when you step into the flat.
It’s cold. So cold — and you had your jacket protecting your shirt. Your jeans and hair are soaked, your socks a sponge, soaked in a couple millilitres of water.
But it’s relieving when you take the jacket and your jeans off, pulling out the oversized, wrinkled shirt from under your pants, covering half your thighs. Jungkook slips out of his boots and rushes for a towel, approaching your heaving form at the door to dry your hair.
You quiver for a couple more minutes, fearing an approaching cold after all. But once settled on the couch, indulging in the comfort of thick joggers and a fresh cotton shirt, you sigh.
The silence still holding on only breaks when you drop your head back on the couch. A warm hand sneaks to your cheek, and when you open your eyes, he asks, “Are you okay?”
“Warming up…” You lean into the touch, though still irritated by his behaviour before. “Thought it’d rain, but that was a surprise.”
“Yeah.” A pause. And then, “Was a little romantic, too.”
Unbelievable.
You roll your eyes at him, head tilting, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. Perhaps he’s joking. The goofy smile suggests that he is.
“Was it, yeah? You just—”
You click your tongue. Think back to him nearly offering his soul to Zeus just a couple minutes ago. Standing in the heavy rain as if he was the lead character in The Notebook.
“Don’t be mad now. I’m kidding,” he says. His voice isn’t as soft anymore; frustrated when he tries again, “Talk to me. What’s the problem?”
“Seriously? I told you there’s nothing.”
“Nah, cut that bullshit. You haven’t talked to me or properly touched me all week. I’m trying my fucking best.”
“I know. This isn’t what it’s about,” you defend, shaking your head, getting to your feet, “but about that insane little stunt out there.”
And the fact that he’s been driving you crazy. The week’s distress mixed with whatever he made you feel yesterday; today’s insanity further adding to it.
When he doesn’t speak, you sigh, waving it off, and opt to walk away. But all in vain.
You make it two steps away from the couch before he flashes up, too; filmesque, you gasp at the strong grip around your elbow, getting a tiny second to process the situation before he’s twirled you around.
He probably didn’t intend it, but you nearly clash against him, stupidly losing your balance and stumbling over his and your own feet. You put a hand to your temples, fearing the worst — what if you fall and clash against the corner of your glass table?
But no. In slow motion, he keeps you in his firm hold, preventing the fall, but still letting you gently drop onto the fluffy, white carpet. Your investment. You’re happy about it now because it caught you the way the wooden floor wouldn’t.
Your movements towards the grounds are slow — or at least that’s what they feel like. But when he appears above you, pinning your wrists to the carpet hard, he’s breathless; and you think that maybe the fall didn’t happen as slowly after all.
“Okay,” he says through gritted teeth. From down here, his jaw looks as sharp as a ship’s deck, the Adam’s apple bobbing when he challenges, “You’re gonna fucking tell me what’s going on.”
Oh. He’s mad.
His eyes are burning, jaw flexed. Defined chest rising in anger.
There’s nothing going on. At least nothing that warrants another fight.
But you don’t tell him that just yet. Instead, all your perplexed mind and tongue manage is, “What?”
“I forgave you. We were both shitty that day, you know? But I still did forgive you, and you’re still being like that.” His knuckles must be paling, because his grip is iron hard. “Why?”
“I—”
“I’ll apologise if that’s what you want. I did, actually. I’m sorry, okay? There. But this is just,” fingers squeeze your wrists, and you hiss, “ridiculous.”
Your following grimace, lips twitching, eyes squinting, go through to him immediately. The hold doesn’t hurt or bother you too much, but the leg between your knees does. Jungkook wouldn’t wound you; he knows his limits.
But perhaps he thinks he’s going overboard when he loosens his fingers, pressing his palms against your skin, rubbing to soothe the missing pain.
He doesn’t quite move away, though, still stubborn when you assure once again, “I’m not mad at you anymore.”
“So you keep saying.”
“I’m not,” you tell him, heart racing at the proximity. You close your legs around his knee, irritated by the barrier. “I promise.”
He doesn’t give your gesture much attention just yet; doesn’t know that his body over yours is exactly what you’ve been craving. But he does understand the sincerity in your voice. Finally.
When he moves closer, pupils melting to fluid gems, you let out an intentional, teeny tiny moan that you’re sure he confuses for a relieved sigh. He moves his palms onto the carpet, caging you in; you keep your wrists where they are, but dig your nails into your skin.
You want to kiss him so badly. You miss him so much.
“Then tell me what’s wrong, angel,” he demands again, quieter and softer this time.
“I don’t know.”
With the fury evaporating bit by bit, his eyes look bigger and rounder again. The desperation of the week gathers in them and his expression, shooting all the way down to his tongue; and when he whispers to you next, your heart collapses, “Please?”
He’s sweet… so utterly oblivious to your true thoughts.
But you couldn’t feel more embarrassed about the pictures you’ve been painting and the words ghosting in that mind of yours. He’d do all of it, no questions asked. But… fuck.
“This is so dumb,” you answer, fingertips dragging down the carpet and then up to his waist, “like… you’ll laugh.”
The touch encourages him. His arms are shaking now, holding him up in this position for too long, and the wandering fingers along his sides and chest must weaken him like his lines affect you.
“That’s a good thing,” he answers, closer than ever when he balances his weight on his arms now, forearms touching the carpet. “I’d rather laugh than fight.”
But the closeness remains for mere seconds before he pulls back again, sitting up with a groan. Hands on his thighs, he lets himself fall on bended knees. He watches your still helpless body on the floor until you work on getting off the carpet, letting him pull you up when he offers a hand.
You ruffle through your hair, legs folding. Your pout is more directed towards yourself than anyone else; you totally realise you didn’t need to confuse him the way you did. Stupid period.
“Listen, I just…” you start, scraping your scalp.
His knees bump against your legs when he drifts closer; there’s something about the two of you sitting on your living room carpet like this.
“It’s just that I want to be able to walk tomorrow.”
And that’s it. That’s literally it.
He halts. His hand was moving up, probably to touch your face, your hair, anything soft to ease the mood. But he cancels the tender gesture, fingers falling back to his knee when he absorbs your words.
Silences with cocked eyebrows. Processes the way you lick your lips and look away, tugging at his wide shirt. And then, once he’s understood, he tsks. Chuckles.
And you, immediately on guard, push lightly against his shoulder, unsurprised when he doesn’t buckle, and defend, “Told you you’d laugh!”
“No, but,” he says, sweet crinkles around his eyes, head tilting and bunny teeth giving way to the prettiest smile in existence, “what are you talking about, hm?”
He knows. If only his feigned innocence was as sweet as his grin, too.
Still, you opt to clarify, “That thing you did yesterday.”
“What thing?”
Ugh.
“The whole modelling thing!” you exclaim, raising your hands. His beam reaches up to his eyes; his occasional giggles are killing you. “Stop. Do you have any clue what you looked like?”
He has the audacity to shrug. “They let me see the pics on their cameras. They’ll come out well.”
“Well? Dude, you looked…”
“What?”
“Dangerous. Like you could eat me up.”
Eat me up might be accurate. It’s the description floating through your little mind since yesterday.
“Ah,” he says, nodding smugly. You know he’s about to tease you. Because— “You specifically, yeah? I was just doing what they told me to.”
“What, is me specifically wrong? Anyone else you’d wanna eat up or—”
“You’re really fixating on that, huh?” Jungkook snickers. His tongue pokes the inside of his right cheek in a brief pause, and then he adds, “You’ve got a point. Didn’t think it’d affect you, though.”
Slowly, but surely, he seems to grasp his own power over you. You think he’s reminiscing about yesterday’s chaos and confidence; maybe even viewing it all from your point of view.
Because his smirk, albeit subtle, is sly when he asks, “What was it like?”
“I…” You click your tongue. “You’ll take me apart if I tell you.”
“Why so?”
“Because.” A beat of silence. You swallow to wet your throat. Then. “I’d ask you to.”
“Ah…” Another understanding nod, as though you’re lecturing him on NASA’s rocket science and he’s finally grasping its meaning. “Yeah?”
“I saw you from afar,” you point into a direction arbitrarily, as if he’s still several feet from you and not mere inches, “and I wanted to,” you inhale when a finger reaches out, straight to a vein in your neck, gentle, exploring, “let you do anything with me that you wanted to.”
“Ohh.” His palm covers your neck, as if he’s coddling you. But you know what that touch will morph into, so you sneak closer to him, lean forwards. “Anything?”
“Anything.”
“…Right.”
His thumb moves up and rubs under your jaw, then up your face and to your lower lip. The touch is soft and careful, as though gauging your reaction and searching for permission.
Your shaky, little exhale is nearly unnoticeable, but you know he catches it, and you know he already sees the consent in your eyes. But he still doesn’t lean in. Moves his eyes across your face, to his hand, to your neck and then all the way back to your gaze.
And then, contrasting the loving movements and affectionate gesture, he smiles. Mischief spreads in his stare, and his fingers retreat to the back of your neck, pulling you closer by a miniscule inch.
“So that’s what it was all this time? You’re on your knees for me, is that it?”
“Babe…” You look down, daring a joke. “Quite literally.”
You shuffle in your spot when he laughs quietly, hooking your fingers into the neckline of his shirt. You emphasise, “I mean it. Just… If you must know? I would’ve been okay with handing you all the control, okay? All of it.”
You’re aware you’re acting as though he doesn’t wreck your shit every other time, too. In fact, that’s probably how the two of you started out.
His absolute craze at the frat party, drunk. College nights when you’d confront him about your bullshit — weak excuses to make him press you against his dorm walls. A hand clapped over your mouth, your ass out, dick buried inside until you felt him in your guts—
You’ve always been at his mercy — but you want him to split you in half this time.
“You would’ve?” he repeats. “And now? Still want that?”
You look down again. There’s no shyness in that movement, no averting his beastly eyes — your focus lies elsewhere because you have a theory. Which proves true.
The swelling under his joggers, right there between his legs wasn’t there before.
So you gather your voice, and say, “…Yes.”
“Hmm. Why didn’t you tell me?” His fingernails dig lightly into your skin, and right in the middle of the tension, he pouts for a little moment. “I genuinely thought you were still pissed.”
“I was on my period…” You shrug your shoulders. “It was also late. I was so tired, and—”
He waits.
“I knew that you’d do it if I asked for it.”
“I would’ve.” What’s worse? The confirmation or the tickling breath against your cheek? When did he get so close? “I still would. If you want me to.”
“I just said yes,” you tug at the shirt, eliciting an amused grin as the tips of your noses collide, “you’ll keep asking and,” your heart beats at a million miles a minute, “just not kiss me, is that it?”
Your provocation proves effective just the right amount.
Because he opens his mouth, seemingly snarling — you can’t tell for sure, since his lips clash against yours within half a moment. Determined as his hand immediately flashes to the small of your back, supporting you before you fall backwards on the carpet.
And then he kisses you like a man starved. Like he’s run out of saliva, dehydrated. Seeks your tongue, tastes like earthy Matcha Latte and something you can’t quite define — something that’s so uniquely him.
Your kiss muffles his tiny sound, a mixture of a sigh and a moan, body impatient as he tries to push closer to you, though separated by your clashing knees. You understand — you, too, would let him smother you under his weight if you could.
So you pull your folded legs apart, shifting until they surround him and attempting to straddle him. But he’s plotting something else: his fingers hold your jaw, keeping you in place, and the hot, wet kiss breaks when he pulls away.
You catch a brief glimpse of glistening lips before he moves to trail down your body, leaning in to teeth at your shirt, pushing it off your shoulder and kissing your skin for a fleeting second. And when the shirt shifts back into position, his other hand works on your tits.
Grabs your shirt at its hem, lifting it over your mounds until they’re free, nipples perked, home to him. In a haze, the tip of his tongue touches the right nub, and you shiver.
More so when he whispers, “Am so hard for you, I’ll fucking combust.”
For you.
You’ll repent for how badly you want him in your mouth.
You caress his thigh, sneaking up until you reach the swelling under the fabric. You feel it immediately, firm as a rock, big and fat, so sensitive that he hisses once you touch it.
“No,” he commands, the word barely a breath, “no, no. Don’t or I’ll come like this.”
He says it against your neck. Warm and tickling. You feel goosebumps arise, your reactions slow, but your heart fast. His fingers engulf your wrist, leading your palm to his cheek; you feel the smileless dimple under your thumb when he darts out his tongue to wet his lips.
Then, you close your eyes; the pecks against your neck are exhilarating. The moving touch, down to your tits and then back up to your jaw is one of his favourite games; you move your hips against the carpet, soaked panties sticking against your pussy.
“You’re…” you start, fingers in his fluffy hair as he bites your nipple. You moan, your words shaky, “You’re— more into this today.”
“I mean… after everything you just said to me?” He chuckles, moving up, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. His mouth brushes yours.
“And I missed her.” Free hand between your thighs, he taps just over your clit; your lips part. “Too crude to say I can’t wait for her to swallow my cock?”
Well. Fuck.
If it wasn’t him, you’d cringe. But it is him, and the truth is that you’re dying for him to press himself onto you. To wrap himself around you, to wrap yourself around him.
You want him to cut you in half, want to be his little toy until you can barely stand.
“Maybe,” you tell him, “but I promise that she wants it, too.”
That’s it, that’s it.
It’s when teeth meet again, the kiss messy, your arms around his neck. He holds you by your waist, pulling you off the floor a little, readjusting his position, so you can climb onto him.
You tilt your head as far as you can, taking him in, drooling, lips and tongue moving wildly to taste all of him. His digits wander from your back to your ass, pushing between your cheeks and pressing against your clenching hole.
The gesture is short lived, but enough for you to rub against him. The urge to rip your panties and part your folds over his girth is profuse; to dampen his length and empty his balls just like this.
But he clenches his jaw, groaning. Halts your movement with a strong grip before pulling at your hair without breaking the kiss. You move your fingers up and down his arm, and then dash it upwards to bury them in his locks, too.
Only, instead of reaching his mane, your hand hits the glass table on your left; you grunt into the kiss and then move away to exclaim, “Ah, fuck.”
Jungkook must’ve heard the sound because he catches on right away, laughing. Gently, he pushes you off his lap, gets back on his knees and then up. He pulls you with him as he says, “Alright. Get on the couch before you hurt yourself.”
“Couch?”
You’re surprised; not the bed this time, is it?
Then again — Jungkook isn’t necessarily picky when it comes to this; cue flashback to bathroom adventures.
So you still listen. Wobbly legs drag you to the sofa, plumping onto it as you watch him follow. The bulge is huge, hotter than hellfire when he palms it and lets go again.
“Too damn lazy to get to the bedroom,” he declares before dropping back on his knees.
You thought he’d climb over you, push you back across the length of the couch. But instead, he seems satisfied with your helpless position, pushing back the carpet and table some to take a seat right in front of you.
You admire his patience — the outline of his cock presses against its confines. Does it not hurt? His expression doesn’t reveal any discomfort as he adjusts against the hard floor; the carpet barely provides any relief.
But the discomfort doesn’t redirect his focus, his touch heading towards you, urging you to remove your joggers at turtle’s pace. He throws them over his shoulder and onto the table, one leg of them dangling off of it.
Left in your panties, you watch his hands curl under your knees, freeing his way to where you want to ache. Lifts your legs, places them on his shoulders carefully, amused and delighted when your bent limbs drag him closer to your cunt.
His tenacious tongue peeks between his teeth, and he fondles your thighs before he reaches the hem of your panties. They bug him — separate your heat from his mouth; in this moment, a crime to him.
“Help me here real quick,” he whispers, and you raise your ass, letting him drag the underwear off of you.
It sticks to your pussy for a second, obscenely flooded with your gradually building arousal. You think he sees, because he halts for a second, eyes flitting up to you before he says, “I think this’ll be fun.”
“You promise?”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
Well…
You shrug your shoulders, but smile tellingly, eliciting a smirk that decorates his gorgeous face, closing in bit by bit. The cool air evaporates the nearer he draws, replaced by his hot breath.
And then… just to test…
He darts out his tongue, the sharp tip of it tickling your clit. Your reaction, much desired, stirs a new type of appetite in him. Because your chin trembles just once, just for a moment. Lashes flutter, and his heart skips a beat.
As he inhales, but never exhales, you question, “What?”
“Nothing,” he assures, blowing against your sex, “just. So very pretty.”
You look down at him. His shoulders look broader from here. Muscular, hair dark and silky. His lips are colourful, handsome, nose ready to bury in your pelvis. If he thinks you’re pretty, then he’s the definition of true aesthetic.
Slowly, you reach for his hair, brushing through it before you bring his head closer to you, hinting at the obvious, and say, “And you.”
“Not like you, though…”
He waits, allowing the both of you a moment of preparation.
And then… he’s kissing your pussy. Lightly at first, up and down, a hand on your inner thigh that moves closer and closer to your folds.
He sighs once before a digit parts your nether lips sticking together, and then licks a stripe between them. You whine quietly; his eyes close. He’s beautiful like this; in a minute, he’ll look at you again, mouth swollen, and you’ll wish for his touch to last and last and last…
“Please,” you only whisper, but he doesn’t answer.
Instead, his sweet kisses turn into something more. Way more wetness, way more tongue. And before you know it, he’s splitting your legs wider, pushing in to start devouring you.
Your moans are intoxicating. They’re sudden, but not surprising, voiced against the ceiling when your head falls back. The heels of your feet dig into his back, pushing him closer when his knees are already touching the couch.
The movements of his mouth are warm, a waterfall. He eats you out until he’s slurping, drenching you further. He’ll slide in effortlessly, you already know. Will bury every single inch of himself inside you, fill you up for the rest of the day.
And your high — it builds up embarrassingly fast. Perhaps because it’s been a while; or maybe because it’s Jeon Jungkook you’re dealing with. Either way, your lower stomach aches, the knot pressing against your guts.
“Kookie,” you murmur, yet again left without an answer.
He knows not to break his focus this time; knows that you’re close, recognises it in your grip around the patch of his hair. Hears it in your desperate whimpers, louder by the second. Words more unintelligible now.
Your thigh is twitching every now and then, quivering, and he takes it as a sign to keep sucking and swirling. Then flicks his wet muscle over your engorged clit, adding to your exclaims when his nimble fingers glide into you swiftly.
Too swiftly. Two of them are barely enough; and he adds a third. Your cheeks heat up, body sliding down — partly because you’re dying inside, partly because he’s pulling you towards him.
Jungkook knows how to navigate your body, how to direct you towards a rationality-breaking explosion. And he does. He does with the plethora of lustful licks, softly circling around your clit. His nose presses against it every time he shifts downwards, tasting you thoroughly.
“I’m almost—” you voice, and he hums, vibrations torture.
It’s a game to him that he’s skilled at; he understands his moves, and he never loses. Neither today as he clamps his hand onto your waist, fingers pumping in and out of you, curling and digging, massaging your favourite spot.
They turn and twist, two fingers of his free hand settling around your clit and raising it for better access.
It takes probably half a minute longer… and then… then…
Your voice grows in pitch, nearly illegal for a Sunday afternoon, but music to his ears. So genuine and sweet. Corners of your eyes glistening. He holds your legs apart as you start begging, but all he truly makes out is the eager repetition of his name.
He wishes your shirt didn’t cover your upper body; wishes he could see the heaving of your chest, the perked nipples, the sweat on your clavicles.
But for now, this is enough.
The way he sees waves of pleasure wash over you, eyes rolled back, not looking at him anymore. Your lips are dry, your tongue probably, too, and he wants to kiss it wet again.
You moan and wince and keen, body restless. The tug of his hair becomes more prominent and palpable, but the sensation makes him smile. You’re probably barely noticing, too.
That is, until your hold and breathing finally calm down. You keep riding the wave, your head turning in odd circle-ish shapes. He kisses your pussy, helping you through it, only stopping when you open your eyes.
“Well, that was…” he says, lips as swollen as you anticipated, shimmering, “a good start.”
“Every single time,” you begin, panting, shaking your head. You watch him as he gets on his feet, moving in to your mouth. “Every single time I think it can’t get better, and then I remember it’s just the fucking beginning.”
He shifts to you slowly, grazing your lips, and declares with a soft smile, “More to come, I promise. Gonna have so much fun with you.”
“Do your worst—”
One more kiss. Shorter this time, but you recognise the familiar, lingering taste immediately. Neutral, not too bad. Fills you with pride, because he never fails to guarantee that he loves it.
But you can’t wallow in it because he retreats quickly, impatient hands freeing his golden body from his clothes. The shirt falls somewhere next to the carpet, his own joggers soon discarded, landing on top of yours and sliding to the ground together.
He’s a menace when he climbs onto the couch, knees digging in and creating a shift on each side of your body. His bulge, still hidden behind his boxers, floats in front of your face; from this close, you see the droplet of precum darken a spot of the light purple cotton.
“Next stage?” he wonders above you, stroking your hair gently, as if he’s not about to explore the back of your throat. “Want or do I rather not?”
“What do you mean with not?” Your breathing is heavy as you lift your palm and engulf the imprint of his dick. He flinches, hips moving back a bit before they come back. “Get this shit off.”
He chuckles. Brings his hand to your cheek, thumb caressing it and voice clear when he says, “You’re so cute. Being demanding and all.”
But he still listens. Gets off the couch, slides his underwear off, leaves you gaping.
Gaping at the hooked and girthy tower. Gaping at how the slit on top of his head glimmers. Gaping at the moles along the stiff length, staring at the thick veins, at the full, firm balls.
“Tongue out,” he orders; you do.
The ink-free hand pushes his dick down to you, tapping it against your tongue as you open up wide. He feels heavy, hot, the skin smooth. Your head moves forward to swallow more, but he pulls back.
Strokes himself for a couple seconds, thumb spreading the precum over his head. You drool. Watch attentively, as though you’re learning — until he eventually guides it back to you and positions it into your still gaping mouth.
Enters it slowly. Slightly salty. Then says, “Breathe. And don’t overthink it too much.”
Huh.
Well. Damn.
Because…
At times, you do worry about your expressions; about your tears when you gag around him, the coughing fits you get in the middle of it all. So that’s a surprise. Attentive.
But your mind is blank today anyway; so you nod, moving to lick the underside of the tip, and he laughs, mumbling, “Alright. Have it, babe.”
And you do.
Slowly at first, cautious as you twirl your tongue around him. You don’t notice much discomfort just yet, thankful that he’s easing you into this. A third of his length buried inside, you close your lips around him and hollow your cheeks.
Which is probably when the invisible threads holding him back finally break.
“Okay,” he says, “you got this.”
His knees move in, more inches intruding. His fingers drift to the back of your head, and you dig yours in his brawny thighs. He grows harder in your mouth, impossibly bigger the more you drag your lips along his member.
How gratifying. You’ve craved this for hours and days. What was your argument about again?
Your head drops further back when he shoves himself inside, more and more as time passes. You imitate his prior advances — hum and close your eyes. Bring a hand to the base of his cock, pumping all that you won’t be choking around.
When you gaze up at him to analyse his reactions, he leaves your mind vacant. Because his head is raised, like yours, jawline edged and acute. Mouth open until he meets your eyes.
You hope he’s seeing something just as lascivious and mind-numbing from his perspective. Maybe messy hair, laying against the softness of your shirt. Or a cock appearing out of and disappearing behind pretty lips.
Slowly blinking eyes that shut just as slowly again, and a tongue that falls out and licks along a vein whenever your head moves to the side. Allowing you a couple deep breaths.
He must be perceiving it all, too.
Because a moment later, he gnarls, like a wild animal, and states, “This won’t do—”
—Before putting both hands under your ears, holding your head and…
Ramming his cock into your mouth.
You gasp around him, taken aback and delighted at once. Feel the effect between your legs, hoping to not defile the couch too much.
Head still thrown back, falling further, you already feel the ache in the back of your neck. Your attempts of holding onto the couch prove futile because there is nothing to hold onto, armrests too far away; so you return to his thighs.
But he keeps your body steady, held at the spot between his legs. Your head is a different story: it bounces back and forth, the exhales through your nose frantic as he pounds into your throat before he slows down again.
“Good, gooood,” he drags out, observing the glistening veins as he draws back to his tip and then moves in again. “Doing very, very well. Looks so gorgeous, baby.”
You don’t know what he’s talking about — about you, his cock, the position. Everything?
He keeps up the gentler pace, allowing you a break. Allowing himself the pleasure of this very image. Pretty lips surrounding a pretty dick.
And perhaps your desperate, little moans, accompanied by rapid blinking, set a fuse loose in his brain.
Because a moment later, Jungkook dares a step further — cock already stuffing your entire mouth, he pushes in more. The fat monstrosity reaches far, your gag reflex not as much at bay anymore as before.
The view seems to spur him on, though, and you can imagine why. If you were him, you’d probably enjoy the drooling mess under him, too. Salivating all over his dick, you feel the gross drop of your spit land on your clavicle, throat constricting as he thrusts in.
And just when you’re about to tap his thighs — very reluctantly, too — to catch your breath, he pulls back, fingers immediately digging into your cheeks to straighten your neck and head. You cough, eyes teary, your breathing quick and uncontrolled.
Like a toy, he moves your head to the left, to the right, a sly smirk playing around his lips until he moves down to you, back arched. Amidst your panting, he presses a brief kiss to your mouth, slippery against the dampness.
And then he says, as casually as he shouldn’t, “You’d look so beautiful in leashes.”
“…What?”
But he ignores your mumbled inquiry, instead thumbing at your lower lip. His dark eyes flit from one facial feature to another, pink lip caught between his teeth. The firm chest rises dangerously when he breathes in.
“Should I come in your mouth?” he asks as if you’d ever say no; as if you don’t know that he’s asking because he won’t. “Huh? Shoot it all the way down your throat?”
“Do it, fucking coward.”
…And just like that, he moves back.
tumblr is cruel and the 1k block limit in the new editor won't let me post the entire thing at once lol so here's the rest in a reblog!!! <3
#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#bts smut#bts fluff#jeongguk smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts x reader#bts x you#bts imagines#bts fic#jungkook scenario#jeon jungkook smut#thebtswritersclub#jungkook fic#jungkook imagines#jungkook
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
all yours ⎯ ౨ৎ
syn. making out with jake. that’s the post.
note. reader has hair long enough to tuck behind ears
wc. 0.4k
a/n. i was brainstorming ideas for another jake drabble and then got carried away w this. brace yourselves cuz im still recovering from writing this :’>
occupied with cleaning the kitchen, it was difficult to notice jake eyeing you from behind.
a yelp left your lips as the top of your head hit a firm surface. you finished standing up in shock, searching for what you had bumped into, and you smiled as you saw your boyfriend's hand protecting the corner of the countertop to prevent you from getting hurt.
a pout painted your face. “awww, jakey, that’s so sweet.” you leaned in and pressed a kiss onto his soft, plump lips that you could never grow tired of.
after pulling away, you turned around and continued cleaning the kitchen. and a pair of familiar footsteps followed. you turned around again.
you laughed, “why are you following me? what are you doing?”
jake shrugged, and you eyed him funny.
“i miss your lips.”
“my—” you continued laughing at how cute your boyfriend was, finding it hard to believe how lucky you were to have this man all to yourself.
you gestured for him to come closer, and his excited giggles and smile had your heart doing somersaults in your chest as he approached you, placing his hands on your waist, and pulling you close.
all in a split second, his grin faded and his expression grew more serious, and before you could process any of it, one of his hands flew to your jaw and pulled you in as he met your lips in the middle.
the kiss was hot, to say the least, as you could always count on jake sim to come through with. his lips were perfect. and even more so as they moulded with yours.
he poured so much passion into that kiss that it didn’t fail to take your breath away. but you kissed him back, of course, and when you felt him bite your lip, the gasp that left you had him smirking against your mouth.
teeth colliding, tongues mingling, bodies shaping into one, after a long while, he pulled away, trying to catch his breath. his lips were swollen and his eyes in a daze—your face probably matching his own, chest rising and falling at the same tempo.
he stayed close, removing his hand from the side of your face to brush a few strands of hair behind your ear, then returning to cup your jaw. he stared into your eyes again before slowly coming back to your lips.
you chuckled. “what? miss my lips again already?”
his eyes didn’t meet yours this time. all he gave you was a nod in response, a desire already returning to his gaze.
“kiss me, jake. i’m all yours.”
a/n. AHH writing this type of theme is v outside my comfort zone but idk my fingers just kept typing away and here we are 😀 are yall okay? im not okay 😀
m.list | taglist form
taglist. @raimbows4u @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @wccycc @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @vickytodoroki @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @pshchives @sunjakes @ethereal-engene @exohclipse @yeosayang @4ri-ki @jaeyunjakesim @whoschr @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @annoyingbitch83 @malarign @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @majesticallymark @mnsnts @en-chantedtomeetyou @yeseoist @milisabunny @wonniestars @kazmura @nicholasluvbot @haechansbbg @atrirose @aeriil11
#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen reactions#enhypen drabbles#enhypen scenarios#enhypen suggestive#jake x reader#jake fluff#jake reactions#jake imagines#enhypen jake#jake enhypen#jaeyun x reader#jaeyun fluff#jaeyun imagines#jake sim x reader#jake sim fluff#jake sim
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
i know requests are closed and im sorry but i need this so i dont forget 💖 actor!toji looking at edits on live and hes like “so yall see me like this” and the fans go wild
actor!toji on live!
okay i’ll make an exception once.
𝜗𝜚 actor!toji (x implied gn!reader)
sfw, crack, tiktok (bc that’s it’s own warning), suggestive, horny toji fans, toji has reading glasses, petnames (‘kid’) he’s a little rude but when is he not :), old man toji <3
〆(・∀・) : me after not writing abt actor toji for like a month 😊🤗
masterlists
actor toji masterlist
*
“hey, everybody,” toji said, waving to camera as if he didn’t fumble and struggle in front of his fans for the past ten minutes trying to get his phone to stand up securely. he looks cute, dressed in a navy blue hoodie with nothing underneath and his dark hair was a messy mop atop his head.
now he just sits in his chair at his dining room table, watching the viewer count rise and rise to absolutely ridiculous numbers.
“fourty thousan-fifty thou-sixty thousand?! didn’t know i had so many fans..jesus christ…”
honestly, toji had no idea what he was doing and he was a tiny bit nervous. this was his first ever “live” (something that he did not know even existed until you told him) and he had no idea how to entertain his fans or what they really wanted. but they seem pleased with him just staring at the camera in confusion and admiring his handsome face.
toji proceeds to read some of the comments in the rapid moving chat of chaos. here, starts the beginning of his own demise.
many comments are sweet, kind, praising him for his talent and acting skills, some were just spamming their country flags and names, a rare male fan is asking to see his guns collection, others asking about his upcoming projects but the majority of them are…not exactly PG in the slightest.
toji’s eyes could bulge out of damn skull at some of the explicitly and complete shamelessness of his fans. he knew they found him attractive, but this was a whole other level of depravity.
“what the fuck…” toji whispers in awe, mouth agape as his eyes scan through the chat, his eyes being fed with the most desperate and thirsty comments he has even read, “you guys are sumthin’ else…”
his one sentence just pours fuel on the, already blazing and large, fire, the chat moving so fast that is starts to lag.
“why’d i even speak..”
he actually takes time to read each comment that he can see (and stomach) and one of them catches his eye.
“watch your edits on tiktok? i have edits? what’s an edit?”
the chat blows up even more, commenters begging and begging him to watch these…edits.
“alright, alright, i’ll watch these “edits”,” toji says to the camera, before pulling out another phone, one that is clearly quite old, jagged edges and a cracked camera, a raggedy phone case and just overall not in the best condition it could be in.
“‘what is that ancient ass device’ eh? this is my main phone,” he replies to a comment, showing his phone to the camera to his fans can see, “‘s fine, works perfectly. and it’s not “ancient”. it’s actually a nokia. pft, dumbass kids.”
toji can feel himself being flamed in the chat. even more so when he pulls out his reading glasses.
“yeah, ‘m fuckin’ old. jesus.”
he squints, scrolling on his beaten up phone with his index finger, “y’know, ion even really use tiktok, i only got it so _____ can send me videos of whatever the fuck. i swear, that kid sends me a million videos per day..” toji sighs, smiling at the thought of you, “ahh, they’re just so dumb.”
toji, after a long time of searching through trial and error and directions from his fans, eventually finds the search page of tiktok.
“alright, what’d i type in then? just ‘toji’? ‘toji fushiguro’?” he looks for answers in the chat, but find himself getting frustrated at the lack of actual responses to his question. he tuts, “i’m just gonna search ‘toji fushiguro edits’ and see what happens.”
he does just that and the results are…very interesting.
right in front of his very eyes are miles and miles of edits of himself, created by his fans, their depravity exposed for him to see, some of who were probably watching him at this very moment.
“jeeeeesus christ. ‘dunno what i even expected, honestly,” he scrolls through them, audios changing constantly as he does so, his eyes wide and wondering, “i’m actually impressed…”
toji pressed on one, and he watches it, the edit flashing in the reflection of his glasses as he watches. his open mouth slowly turns into a smirk of amusement and all out disbelief, the audio of the video being something about… ‘needing someone older’?
“so you guys see me like this?” he asked, expression incredulous and he breathes out a small chuckle, “buncha little fuckin’ freaks.”
the chat seems to like that. a lot.
his chat is once again flooded with comments from hell…hell for people driven purely by lust, that is.
toji huffs, “how old is this person anyway?”
he seemingly clicks on the account and reads their username. well, almost.
“‘tojis little cu-woah!” he almost drops his phone out of his hand, jaw on the floor, “how old are you! sixteen?! toji looks to the camera, eyebrows furrowed before slamming his phone on the table and pointing at his fans through the screen, “go do your homework! and be in bed by nine. actually, no scratch that, eight! christ…sixteen years old, oh my god…”
he continues to mutter to himself, completely baffled at how some of his fans are so young and just so…out of their minds. his skin crawls at the thought of a sixteen year old liking him in such a way.
toji shivers, “god, where are your parents?” he questions and continues to search through the edits, before finding one that looks safe, innocent and PG.
he was proven wrong however, when the audio was a woman rapping about being put in full nelsons-
“okay, that’s enough!” he slams his phone down again on the table, “i’ve seen enough,” and then he reaches for the camera, not even caring about his viewers. he mutters a, “crazy fuckin’ kids” before abruptly ending his “live” and going to take a nap.
*
the next day, you have sent him over ten videos on tiktok, all of them being edits of him from the day of the live, most of them containing the clip of when he called his fans, quote, a “buncha little fuckin’ freaks” unquote.
toji sighs at them, secretly entertained that you must be watching these deviant edits of him too.
*
〆(・∀・) : no i have not forgotten abt actor toji
taglist: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000 | @morgyyyyyyy | @studiecoherence | @earth2fae | ce-namonreads | @ib4ryuguji | @hisjaegerist | @basiloverthyme | @sweet-kiwi | @sayitowshi | @iovemytoru | @thecompletechaosmaster | @sugutoad | @inumakiiz | @uzxotic | @1meshugge1 | @kunikuzushisbeloved (sorry some could not be tagged for some reason </3)
#actor!toji#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji x self insert#toji fluff#toji crack#toji fushigro x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x self insert#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro fluff#toji zenin x reader#toji zenin x you#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you
869 notes
·
View notes
Text
How easy you are to need
Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: Joel notices that the peaceful life in Jackson has its consequences. he is not happy about it (based on this wonderful ask!)
Tags: TONS OF ANGST, but also FLUFF, established relationship, ahh intrusive thoughts (how much i hate them), Joel is probably ooc but i don't care anymore, also he's soft and insecure and vulnerable
Warnings: body dismorphia and lots of self-loathing on Joel's side, at one (two?) points borderline on smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) hihihi, swearing, drinking (just mentioned), suggestive stuff bc apparently i can't help myself 😌
Word count: 8K ! (8028 specifically woah)
A/N: the next fic will definitely be shorter bc i really need to start caring less about the quality of my work, it takes way too long for my liking. buuut anyway as always 🎶i hope yall will like it🎶 this is my birthday gift for you guys 💕
Joel looked at himself in the mirror with furrowed brows.
He pulled in his stomach and tried to zip his pants. It still fit, but barely. He undid the zip, turned to the side and looked at his reflection again, just to make sure.
Yeah. This pair was definitely loose until a while ago.
He glanced at the door, but didn’t hear you coming, so he sighed and looked in the mirror again. Joel was never particularly muscular, but he could no longer see those thin lines which accentuated his torso before. There was also a bit of fat above the hem of his jeans, and his frame seemed somehow heavier…
Good thing his left ear was directed to the door, because he heard the moment the water in the shower stopped running, which meant you were coming back from the bathroom. Joel spared himself one last wary look and zipped up his pants before turning around to your shared bed where his shirt lay discarded.
He was putting his arms into the sleeves when you entered. A couple of light steps, and then Joel smiled when he felt your arms wrapping around his torso. He glanced over his shoulder at you.
“You took your sweet time in the shower,” he pointed out, and he could feel your smile when you pressed your face to his back.
“We finally have hot water, so I’m gonna use it every chance I get.”
“You left some for me?”
You huffed a laugh and went around him, moving his hands away and starting to button his shirt yourself.
“There would be, if you took a shower with me.”
“Next time, sweetheart,” he chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead softly, combing his fingers through your wet hair. He hummed. “Your hair smells nice.”
“It’s that shampoo Ellie didn’t want.” You shook your head with a smile. “I have no idea why, it’s fantastic.”
You buttoned up the last button and smoothed your palms over his chest and down, lastly resting them on his waist. Internally Joel furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he could always feel this fold when you put your hands in that place.
“You look handsome,” you whispered, looking up at him with twinkling eyes and such a soft, love-struck expression on your face that Joel felt his throat constricting. Everything but the sight of you faded from his mind, and he joined his hands behind your back, pulling you closer into his chest and basking in this precious smile you blessed him with. “Especially with the bed hair.”
“It’s your doin’, you know,” he murmured in response, nudging your nose with his and reminiscing how you tugged and raked your nails through his hair the night before. “You gotta be careful with it, sweet girl. If you continue doin’ it, m’gonna go bald soon.”
You hummed noncommittally and leaned against his chest, standing on your tip-toes. “I’ll take it under consideration. No promises, though.”
Joel lifted his hand to the back of your neck and kissed you slowly, reveling in the soft sigh that left your lips. You rested your palm above his heart, leaning forward to the point that you would fall over if he wasn’t supporting your weight.
But Joel held you tight and close to his body, gladly steadying you as you deepened the kiss, once again tugging on his graying hair in that way he adored. He wanted to tease you about it, but his thoughts strayed to the image of his body again when you lowered your hand from his chest to his side.
“You remember that tonight is this party?” you asked suddenly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Joel gave up pondering about his physique and sighed heavily at your question, pressing his forehead to yours.
“Yeah, I remember. Regrettably.”
“I don’t want to go, either,” you whispered with guilt, as if someone would hear you both. “But Tommy really wanted us to come and… Just don’t make me go alone.”
“Hey, darlin’.” Joel took your face in his hands and looked deeply into your eyes. “I promised, didn’t I? M’not gonna leave you there on your own.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling against them. “And mind you, I gotta make sure no one will try to seduce and steal you away from me.”
You giggled, and you were standing so close that Joel could feel your eyelashes tickling his skin. He held you close when you tried to take a step back, and your lips collided again.
“That is the one thing you don’t need to ever worry about,” you murmured quietly into the space between you two. “How could I even look at other people when I have you all to myself?”
Joel’s reflection in the mirror flashed across his mind again and a small wave of uncertainty rippled through him, but it quickly disappeared when you opened your eyes and looked at him with this raw love radiating from them. Your every word, every affectionate gesture only confirmed his conviction that you meant every word you said.
So why did he still feel so uncertain?
*****
Life in Jackson was perfect. Considering the state of the world right now, living here was like winning a lottery.
Joel had a lot to be thankful for, he was well aware of that. No longer had he any fears or sense of guilt about going to sleep and leaving you and Ellie defenseless if something were to happen. He didn’t have to count rations anymore, worrying that the kid would be forced to march all day hungry. There was now no need to keep a watchful eye for new clothes if someone’s worn off, ripped or got soaked from walking in the rain, posing a threat of you or Ellie catching a cold.
Back in Boston it wasn’t much different, though he and you had at least a bed to sleep in, as uncomfortable as it was. But there was never enough food for all those people Fedra kept there, and the winters were cold as hell, leaving at least one of you a bit sick every year.
None of those things were keeping him awake at night anymore. The only people he had to take care of – you and Ellie – were safe and comfortable. None of you had to starve or freeze, and you all didn’t have to continue walking across the country for days and days without end, struggling to survive.
Maybe that was the problem.
Joel wasn’t stupid. He knew that those luxuries he had an access to now were at the root of his problem. Before you all settled in Jackson, you were constantly on the move, fighting for your lives in one way or another, so of course he was… leaner and more fit back then. It was never something he paid attention to, though, never something he concerned himself with.
But now you three were living here, surrounded by more people than Joel could count, and he couldn’t help but… notice things about them.
Especially about all those men and women who looked at you in a different way.
Due to the nature of the party Tommy invited them to – mainly consisting of dancing and talking in the biggest bar in Jackson – Joel had a lot of time to ponder about his situation, all while nursing his drink and looking at you from across the room with his elbows resting on the table.
You were chatting with one of your friends near the counter, laughing and smiling so beautifully. No matter where Joel’s eyes strayed, they always came back to your person, as if you were the moon against the pitch black sky, reflecting some imperceptible light.
Some guy he knew by sight – Chuck? Bart? – walked up and tapped you on the shoulder, and from what Joel could tell, he was offering you a drink. He was standing way too close, though, and you took a step closer to your friend, shaking your head. Chuck – or Bart – persisted for another half a minute, but eventually shrugged and shuffled off, his movements tense.
Joel didn’t move. He knew from experience that you’d let him know if you needed his help.
As if sensing his gaze, you turned your head and sent him a radiant smile. He mirrored it, lifting his glass slightly like he was toasting you, which made you do the same before resuming the conversation with your friend.
His smile disappeared as soon as you stopped looking at him. Joel sighed and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, feeling a headache coming from the dull lights and loud chatter all around.
It were moments like this when it hit him just how old he was compared to you.
You were a sweet, young thing. Funny, sharp, drop-dead gorgeous… No wonder some people were seeking your attention. That guy was just one of the half a dozen he saw or heard about since you moved to Jackson.
Joel knew you were a loyal sort – God, he knew that, he knew you for so long now – but every time he saw you talking to someone else, his treacherous mind started to wonder if he wasn’t somehow keeping you chained to his person.
It was probably alcohol talking, but Lord, if he wasn’t reminded of how old he was compared to you every time he saw you next to your peers. You still had so much life ahead of you, and he was pushing sixty, for fuck’s sake. Before long he’ll be old and decrepit, unable to bring something useful to the table or help you in any way, and you’d still be as pretty as ever, trapped in a relationship with an old man.
For example, that guy – Chuck, or whomever – was way closer to your age, had handsome features, and Joel knew for a fact he was working at tree felling, so he had to be muscular, too.
Joel was once, too. Once.
He subtly ran his hand across his stomach under the jacket, his brows furrowed, and leaned back on the bench to get rid of those damned fat folds.
He sighed and downed the rest of the liquor in his glass, trying very hard not to think about it, not to put himself down like that and let those cruel thoughts fester in his mind, but no matter what, he couldn’t stop comparing himself to this guy, and also… how you looked next to him.
Shit. What if he was doing you more harm than good by continuing to stay with you?
“I could pickpocket you and you wouldn’t notice.”
Joel looked up, abruptly pulled out of his thoughts. You were standing over his table with your head tilted and still that beaming smile on your face.
“What are you thinking about, handsome?”
He opened his mouth, glanced in the direction of the bar, and closed it. There was no sign of any of the people you just talked with.
“Nothin’,” he replied, maybe a little too dryly, so he quickly changed the subject. “You havin’ fun?”
“Yeah, it’s nicer than I thought.” You looked around and then spotted the empty glass on the table in front of him. “Do you want me to bring you another one?”
“No, there’s no need,” he grumbled, but you had already put your drink down and sent him a wink.
“I'll be right back, baby.”
Joel hissed your name but you just looked over your shoulder with a smirk, swinging your hips provocatively to the music and ignoring him completely. He sighed heavily, slumping in his seat.
He needed to get his shit together. Fuck his insecurities, he didn’t want to take his frustration out on you when you were nothing but a ray of sunshine in his life, always so good and affectionate.
Joel’s thoughts came to a sudden stop when he searched for you in the crowd and noticed another man, this time one he didn’t know, swinging his arm over your shoulders while you waited at the bar. He tried to read your body language from here, but you didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable with the man’s actions. Joel furrowed his brows, a pit of uncertainty forming in his stomach again... but then you threw the man’s heavy limb off your shoulders and went back to Joel’s table as soon as you got the drink.
“Thanks, darlin’,” he murmured, taking a large gulp despite telling himself earlier that he was done drinking for today. “Were you okay back there?” He pointed his chin towards the bar.
You sat down next to him and smiled innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”
Joel knew you long enough to recognize when you were teasing him, and he smirked despite the doubts swirling in his mind.
“Was that guy givin’ you any trouble?” he asked lazily, deciding to play along.
“Would you beat the shit out of him if I said yes?” you asked with your eyebrows raised, and Joel shrugged, acting nonchalant.
“Probably.”
You giggled and bumped his shoulder with yours playfully.
“Then no. Peter’s a good guy. Just a little,” you seemed to be looking for the right word, “uhm, persistent.” When Joel sent you a dubious look, you rolled your eyes and made a face. “He’s politely hitting on me, but doesn’t get that I’m not interested. He works at the same place I do.”
“If he keeps makin’ you uncomfortable, that’s not very polite.” You squinted at him and Joel lifted his hands in fake surrender. “M’not sayin’ anythin’. You can take care of yourself, I know that.”
You hummed melodically and glanced at the bar, then back at Joel. Then back at the bar again where that Peter guy stood. Joel noticed you biting the inside of your cheek, so he gently nudged your knee with his.
“What’s on your mind, sweet girl?”
“Maybe you could help me make it clear that I’m taken?” you blurted out quickly, making him crack a smile and chuckle under his breath.
It was so very easy to forget about all the problems in the world when you were there, sitting right next to him and warming his soul and body with your mere presence.
“Come ‘ere,” he breathed and tugged you gently to sit on his lap. You faltered, but he gave your hand another light tug, and finally you let him guide you, putting one arm around his shoulders and making yourself comfortable.
Joel’s hand mindlessly went to rest on your thigh and he rubbed it comfortingly. That Peter guy, as he noted with satisfaction, was staring right back at you, eyeing the way your body was pressed flush against Joel’s with a twisted face.
Once the eyes of the both men met, Joel leaned in and kissed your neck, keeping eye contact the entire time. Peter turned away, taking a large swig from his glass.
Joel felt your muscles relaxing, and you giggled adorably next to his ear at his antics, hiding your neck between your shoulders when he nibbled at your skin lightly. Then your hand covered his, the one lying on your thigh, and stroked his skin lovingly.
Maybe Joel was keeping you chained somehow. Then again, he was but a selfish creature after all. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to ever truly let you go.
*****
The next few days – which then turned into weeks – Joel spent wondering. Mostly about what to do with his predicaments.
He had a couple of them.
The first problem was the nights. They became more difficult since he noticed… details about himself that weren’t there before, and which bothered him more and more with each day.
Joel used to love the nightfall, especially since you all settled in Jackson. In those evening hours no one bothered him, he could finally relax, spend some time alone with you, and later collapse on the bed to get a good-night sleep.
Well, not anymore.
The bedtime unexpectedly became the most stressful one for him. He was so fucking mad at himself, because laying down and having a chance to hold you in his arms was something he treasured for the longest time, but now his own insecurities stood in a way of it.
You loved cuddling and being close to him in your sleep, and Joel was never bothered by it – hell, he initiated those moments more often than not. But now he started noticing more and more how this layer of fat on his stomach moved and looked like when you draped your arm around him or snuggled closer to his chest, and it became all he could think about.
It bothered Joel so much that he started wearing a t-shirt to bed, even though he hated it with all his passion. When you asked about it, he lied that he’s cold, but in reality he was always sweaty by morning. It didn’t seem to make any difference to you, though, and you didn’t shy away from pressing your body close to his, and even slipping your hands under his shirt when you were spooning him. Some days Joel was waking up with you lying on his chest or having your arm slung across his belly, and every time it caused a lump in his throat.
He knew you didn’t mean anything bad by it – for God’s sake, you probably didn’t even have any idea that he had a problem with himself – but what once was a wonderful start of the day, now became a bitter reminder of all those things he was insecure about.
Recently he built a habit of waking up before you – he did it often before, but he always stayed in bed and waited for you to open your eyes, too – and carefully disentangling himself from your embrace. It wasn’t like it didn’t feel wonderful to be enveloped by you in this way, but once he stirred awake, lying still was a herculean task. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, his skin was itching and buzzing, he was sweating from nerves and a lot of horrible, self-depriving thoughts were flooding his mind.
So once he woke up, he’d go take a shower, trying to be a little bit louder than necessary in hopes that you’d already be awake when he gets back – so that he wouldn’t feel so guilty about not laying back down next to you.
The second of his problems was that you began to watch him more closely.
He didn’t know when it started happening, but in hindsight he realized it was just a matter of time – he was acting weird, after all, and you knew him too well not to notice anything.
A couple of times in the last few days only, Joel caught you staring at him in silence. Your eyes were solemn and your forehead sad, though you were quick to smile and act like nothing was amiss as soon as he turned your way.
You must have known something was wrong, but Joel didn’t ask about it. Honestly, with all that was happening in his own head, he didn’t want to know.
But at the same time it was as if nothing odd was happening. You were your usual self, a blessing in Joel’s life, and you still sought to be close to him and spend as much time together as possible. You still told him you loved him, surprised him with unexpected gestures of affection…
Just like today – you hugged him from behind while he was dressing up, started kissing his shoulders so tenderly and murmuring sweet nothings into his skin… In those moments Joel could almost forget about everything that was nagging him. It was easy to believe that you still liked the way he looked, that he was deserving of you, when you treated him with nothing but overwhelming love.
But the itch in the back of his mind never really disappeared. Even though he wanted it to.
Those thoughts filled his mind while you were sitting on his lap, telling him some story from work in a soft voice. You two were at Tommy’s, waiting for him to get back from helping his wife with something, and the day was so beautiful that you all went out onto the patio in front of the house to enjoy the unusually warm weather for this time of the year.
Joel’s hand was on your thigh, stroking it absentmindedly, while he nodded to whatever you were saying, but for the life of him, he could not focus.
Has your physique changed as well? Joel didn’t care about those things, of course, and in his eyes you were as breathtaking as ever – maybe even more, since so many of your worries disappeared and he got to see your smile more often. And you still felt perfect under his hands when he was holding you at night, still looked like a goddess every time he got to admire your naked body.
But even though he wouldn’t have cared either way if you gained some weight or looked any different, his body still bothered him.
You rested your head on his shoulder, and Joel fixed his attention to the wind-blown tree crowns in the distance.
Maybe he should start exercising.
Joel never liked the idea of waking up early and running down the streets in a sweat-soaked t-shirt, or going to the gym where everyone seems to stare and judge you, but it was never necessary.
With how much traveling, heavy-lifting and working he had to do, he never concerned himself with the way he looked. Hell, these things are the last on your mind when you’re fighting for your life in this god-forsaken world. But here, in Jackson, it was different. Life was good, and you were happy. And as stupid as it sounded for him, Joel wanted to look good for you.
Maybe he should ask Maria to assign him to extra patrols. He already volunteered for the morning ones, but perhaps…
“You’re quiet.”
Joel didn’t realize you stopped telling your story. He pressed his lips together and his hand on your thigh stilled.
“Sorry.”
“No need for that,” you reassured him quickly. Then you cupped his cheeks and lifted his head gently. “I don’t mean ‘now’, though, I mean… lately, in general.” Your eyes were flickering across his face, like you were hoping to read the answer from his features. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”
No. Hell no. It was bad enough that Joel himself was aware of his issue, he didn’t want to make it even more noticeable by pointing it out to you.
Which reminded him – he moved his torso away from you only a few millimeters.
“No, babygirl,” he answered. He brushed some hair behind your ear, smiling softly even though inside he despised himself for lying to you. “Everythin’s fine.”
You didn’t seem convinced and still were studying his face with concern. Joel resumed petting your thigh, wanting to put you at ease. He could worry about himself, but he didn’t need to concern you with his problems, too.
“I promise,” he added. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”
That look in your eyes didn’t disappear, but you hummed and dropped your hands. It didn’t take a genius to know you didn’t believe him.
“If you say so,” you answered at last, and then covered his hand on your leg with your own. “But remember you can talk to me whenever you want. About anything.”
Jesus, your kindness was only confirming his concerns if he was the right person for you. Joel shook his head with a crooked smile.
“You’re gettin’ sappy.”
“It’s because I’m worried,” you shot back without skipping a beat, swatting at his chest with the back of your hand. “And you’re not making it any easier.”
“There’s nothin’ for you to worry about,” he repeated, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. But he failed.
You pressed your lips together and then made a move to get up from his lap without a word. Joel held onto you delicately, not letting you stand up.
“Wait, darlin’,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “Didn’t mean to say it that way. I just… feel tired. Sorry.”
Your eyes softened when you took in the regret and weariness on his face. Joel felt your fingertips on his jaw, but before you could question him further, Tommy returned from the inside of the house with a grin.
“Age is a heavy burden, eh, ol’ dog?” he teased, apparently having heard the last bit of their conversation. The younger Miller placed three bottles of beer on the table, and winked at you. “That’s just how it is for us now. Enjoy your youth while you still can, punk.”
Joel felt a sharp jab in his ribs, not unlike being stabbed. He couldn’t find it in himself to look at his brother, less alone laugh at his teasing.
Of course Tommy didn’t mean anything bad by it, but his words were just a bitter reminder of the ever-present pit of Joel’s stomach.
The weight of you on his lap suddenly felt a lot lighter, and he himself felt so, so very heavy and tired.
Old.
Joel could feel your eyes boring into his face, but a second later you turned to Tommy, taking the burden of filling the uncomfortable silence.
“It’s already started for me. Sometimes I feel like my bones want to kill me prematurely.”
“M’sure Joel won’t let that happen. He’d fight your skeleton if you said it’s botherin’ you.”
You snorted and shook your head, but your smile faltered when you turned to Joel again. He almost broke down right then and there from the guilt and tightness in his chest.
And the dark feeling inside him just grew when your eyes stayed sad and concerned for the rest of the day.
*****
It had to end.
Joel could no longer pretend everything was alright like he wasn’t dying on the inside every time you did as much as hold his hand. He felt horrible about lying, avoiding spending time together and denying you affection he knew you so loved receiving.
If he was being honest with himself, he wanted this affection, too. Undisturbed with self-doubts and guilt.
He fucking craved it.
Those last few weeks, his evenings were mostly spent away from you and the warmth of your shared home. The nights, on the other hand, when he would sneak in and quietly lay down next to you (but just a little further away), became full of intrusive thoughts and wallowing in self-loathing.
No matter what excuse he came up with, you were persistent in holding and being close to him during the night, and Joel discovered that the only way to prevent you from doing it was to come to bed after you’ve already fallen asleep.
But it was a damn torture.
The worst part was when he was coming home to the sight of you lying amongst the tangled sheets and blankets in his bed. No matter if you were drooling or a pillow has imprinted itself on your cheek, every time this sight made Joel weak in the knees. You looked like a gorgeous, priceless painting, and it pained him to disrupt your rest with his arrival.
He tried to volunteer for evening patrols, because then he’d have a real reason to come home late, but not only Maria didn’t want to pair him with anyone during those hours – she also suspended him from all patrols whatsoever. Joel was understandably furious, but the damn woman threatened to tell Tommy about it if he kept being ‘a stubborn pain in her ass’. She sent him back home, murmuring something about spending more time with you, which he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard.
Joel sighed, sitting up on the edge of the bed and hiding his face in his hand.
If Maria of all people could see that there were some problems in your and Joel’s relationship, then you had to notice, too.
Christ, he was the worst.
Joel didn’t want to push you away, of course not. He wanted to stay with you more than anything, but that desire did nothing to diminish the guilt suffocating him. For some time, he felt like the luckiest man alive, having the privilege to call you his and every day come home to you. But now with all those little things he started to notice, he felt like a fraud.
It wasn’t even about him not deserving you anymore – it was that you didn’t deserve this fucking treatment he was giving you these past few weeks.
Fuck, he had to tell you the truth. About the patrols, sneaking out, distancing himself, all of it. He couldn’t bear lying to you a day longer.
Joel stood up and pulled his sweaty t-shirt over his head. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and patted himself under his armpits and on the back, then reached for a clean one.
He’ll figure it out. He just needed some time to come up with a way to–
“Morning, handsome.”
Joel flinched and turned around quickly, not having realized you were awake, but whatever excuse he had in mind, it fell dead on his lips.
You stretched with a groan, reaching one arm high above your head and rubbing your eyes with the other hand. A sleepy smile danced on your lips when you looked back at him with sparkles in your slightly puffy eyes, and Joel didn’t have any other word to describe you than ‘ethereal’.
“What are you doing?” you asked groggily, relaxing against the pillow and looking him up and down.
“Uhmm…” he hesitated, clutching the t-shirt that was in need of washing close to his chest. His gaze was drawn to the window. “Goin’ out, actually. I’ve got some work…”
“No, you don’t,” you interrupted him and swung off the covers from his side of the bed. “Get back here.”
Joel looked at you with surprise.
“What?”
“You heard me, Miller. Get your ass back on the bed.”
He crumpled the shirt in his hands, hesitating, but his eyes softened as soon as he looked back at you and your raised eyebrows – like you were challenging him to just try and refuse you.
But how could he, when you looked so pretty lying in his bed and demanding to have him close to you? How could he ever deny you anything?
With a defeated sigh, Joel started putting the t-shirt back on, but the sound of you humming in protest stopped him. Your face was grumpy when he glanced up.
“Nah. No shirt.” You extended your hand in his direction, making a grabbing motion. “Come here.”
Joel didn’t move. “Why?”
You rolled your eyes and dramatically flopped down onto the pillows, looking up at him with an adorable pout.
“Because it’s been a long time since I got a chance to admire my handsome, sexy man,” you answered with sincerity, and then grinned. “Now come here. If you ditch your shirt, I’ll consider ditching mine.”
He still didn’t move. You were patient, but when it became clear that he wasn’t going to do anything, you sent him a small, sweet smile. “If you get cold again, I promise to do something about it, love.”
Joel physically felt his heart softening at your words and at the sight of you.
With a silent sigh – and only a split second of hesitation – he took off the t-shirt and quickly laid down on his back next to you. He felt a bile rise in his throat, though he had no idea why, and it became almost choking when you shifted closer to him, putting one hand on his chest.
“You’ve deprived me of this beautiful view for too long,” you whispered, kissing the place below his collarbone, and then going up to the base of his neck. “I missed seeing you like this.”
“There’s nothin’ to miss,” Joel muttered, not moving a single muscle. He had his hands entwined on his stomach and to look in your direction was the biggest effort anyone could demand from him now. “We sleep next to each other every night, sweetheart.”
“You know what I mean,” you breathed into his neck, leaving love bites wherever your lips strayed. “You’re going out so early these days. And you work late.”
“Patrols,” Joel grunted with gritted teeth, his muscles tense and breathing ragged as your warm palm caressed his waist. “Sorry.”
“You work too hard, love.” You sat up and swung one of your legs over his lap. Joel actually shivered when you took his hands in your own and placed them on your hips. “Let me help you relax.”
Oh, fuck.
Jesus fucking Christ, Joel was sure he was going to drop dead at any second now.
“Darlin’…” he began, but you made a noise in your throat and leaned in to kiss him deeply, pressing your body to his. Joel loved when you initiated those moments between you two, and you looked so fucking hot sitting on top of him – but for the life of him, he could not relax.
“It hits me every once in a while how lucky I am to have you,” you whispered in such a sweet, adoring voice, like you didn’t hear him. You pressed your lips against his stubble again, igniting every inch of his skin with your touch. “Let me enjoy you. I love you so much, you know that?”
“I…”
I love you, too.
Lord, he loved you so much. Why was it so hard to return your affections, then? Why did he feel like the biggest crook by letting you love him?
Joel let out a shuddering sigh he didn’t know he was holding when you pressed your lips to the edge of his jaw, before capturing his mouth in a kiss. It was sweet, but heated at the same time and, without even thinking about it, he found himself wrapping his strong arms around you, bringing you closer to his chest. You smiled against his lips and murmured something he didn’t quite catch.
A groan escaped him when you bit his lower lip lightly, your soft palm going down, from his chest, to his stomach, down…
He couldn’t do it.
Joel abruptly rose to the sitting position and grabbed your wrist, his eyes sad and painful.
“I’m sorry, baby” he said with furrowed brows, gently setting you aside and off his lap, before standing up quickly. “I’m so sorry, babygirl, I love you, I promise, but I can’t… I don’t feel good today. I’m sorry.”
“Joel…” you started, but he shook his head, putting his t-shirt back on and turning away from you not to let you see the absolute wrecked expression on his face and wetness in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he kept saying, feeling like he’s about to throw up from the nerves and the burning shame. He cursed himself internally, wanting to turn around, to take your face in his hands and kiss you deeply, but he… he... “I’m so…”
All strength left him in a blink of an eye and suddenly he slumped on the bed, hiding his face in his hands. Joel desperately tried to get a grip on himself, but his chest felt so tight, and all the worry, all the guilt and fear, and self-loathing came crashing down on him all at once.
“M’sorry, darlin’,” he whispered hoarsely, his lips trembling and that damn muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt the mattress dipping and your tentative touch on his face.
“No, no, baby, it’s alright,” you started saying quietly, trying to take his cheeks in your hands, but he didn’t let you. “Oh, Joel… Come here.”
You gently pulled him into your arms, guiding his head to rest in the crook of your neck. Joel hid his face in your skin, realizing with dread that his own shoulders were shaking.
For God’s sake, he needed to stop, he needed to put himself together and not show any weakness–
But it was you. It was your warm embrace and your loving hands brushing his hair, and your quiet whispers while you held him. It was your kindness and understanding, and stubbornness coming from love. You weren’t someone he had to hide from.
So he let you in. He let you hold him.
“Joel, please. Talk to me,” you spoke up after some time, and though your tone was soft, it somehow sounded too loud in the silence of the room. “I need to know what’s going on with you, you’re worrying me.”
“Nothin’ is goin’ on,” he answered out of habit, not even moving a muscle. “I just… fuck, sorry.”
“Stop apologizing and talk to me.” Joel pursed his lips, while you massaged his back gently. “Whatever it is, we’re gonna get through it together, okay? It’s gonna be okay, love, I promise.”
He planned on telling you. He wanted to tell you and get it off his chest, but… he wasn’t ready. Not now. Not when he broke down in front of you, for fuck’s sake.
But you deserved to know. If not to help him, then at least to make you aware of what you’ve gotten yourself into. It wasn’t fair to keep you in the dark and at arm’s length because of his absurd fears.
He wetted his lips and inhaled softly, but no words came out.
You gently lifted his head and Joel immediately squeezed his eyes shut, knowing there was no way he’d be able to say anything if he looked at you.
“You can tell me, baby,” you whispered sadly, touching the side of his face. “Anything. I promise everything will be alright.”
Joel was silent for a couple of moments, before he swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to calm down his pounding heart.
“I don’t have any extra work,” he started very quietly, so his voice wouldn’t break. “I was lyin’ to you, and I… I’m so sorry about that. I don’t get sent on any patrols now, actually…”
He shook his head and sighed heavily, faltering. He knew that wasn’t the problem, and although lying to you was one of the things he was guilty of, it wasn’t what started all of it. And you must’ve known it, too, because you kept looking at him, not saying anything.
“The thin’ is, I… God dammit,” he murmured, turning his head away from you and hiding his face in his hands, still keeping his eyes closed. “I can’t… I don’t– I have a problem with myself,” he finally blurted out, not even caring now if you understood his muffled words. “I keep…”
Fuck, man, just say it.
“I’m… I’m not as fit as I used to be,” he murmured, not moving an inch in fear that you’ll spot the wetness on his eyelashes. “I don’t want to do you harm, darlin’, keepin’ you from… Jesus, I don’t know. From livin’ your life, happily and to the fullest.”
“Joel…” You whispered with pain in your voice. “Is this what it is about?”
Joel shook his head, letting out a shuddering breath, still as quietly as he could.
“I’m old,” he said with tiredness he didn’t know he had in himself. “And you… You’re so pretty and young, I…” He lowered his forehead onto his hand, rubbing his temple. “I would like nothin’ more than to spend the rest of my life with you, darlin’. But I’m afraid I’m not… not good for you. You could do so much better–”
“Hey. Hey, none of that.” You forced his hands away from his face by cradling it in your own palms. “There’s no one else I’d rather share my days with.”
Joel just shut his eyes tighter, trying to contain the tears that started to gather in them.
“I know, sweetheart,” he whispered. “But in a couple of years I’ll be… God, I’ll be fuckin’ sixty, and you–”
“Do you really think I care about that?” you asked softly, brushing your thumbs under his eyes, but he shook his head, like you didn’t understand. “Joel, I love you more than anything in this world. And I know you love me.” He heard the faintest smile in your voice, and it made him feel so, so terrible with himself – that you were trying to make him feel better when you shouldn’t have, he shouldn’t have been another one of your worries… “So where’s the problem? I want to be with you. Only you.”
Joel pressed his lips together and before he could stop himself, he draped his arms over his lap, like he was trying to hide the evidence of his insecurities from you, even though his torso was already covered by the t-shirt.
“You’re young and beautiful,” he repeated, still unable to find strength in himself to look you in the eye. “And I’m anythin’ but. I just don’t wanna…”
Joel didn’t know what else to say.
He didn’t want you to leave. He didn’t want to spend another night apart from you. He didn’t want to push you away.
“Just don’t want you to be unhappy,” he finally murmured.
You let out something between a short chuckle and a stifled sob, and your fingers found Joel’s, still wrapped around his stomach.
“Do I look unhappy to you?” you asked, almost in disbelief. Joel finally willed himself to glance at you, if only to see for himself – which turned out to be a mistake. Your eyes were sad and teary, but not full of hurt or distaste like he feared, and you still had this faint smile on your face. He quickly turned his head away and you must’ve realized how you looked because your hold on his fingers tightened slightly. “Not right now. In general, did I ever do something to make you think I’m not happy with you?”
“No,” he answered quietly, not even having to think about it. “But it doesn’t…”
“I told you before, how can I even look at anyone else when I have you?” you spoke up when he faltered. “You’re beautiful to me, Joel, even if you don’t believe me right now. You’re amazing and kind, you’re fucking hot, and yeah, maybe you’re stubborn at times, but I love you so much, and every day I find another reason to fall for you all over again.”
Joel met your eyes again, looking for any hesitation or deceit – but he didn’t find any. As always, you were sincere in everything you said.
He realized, with another wave of tears threatening to roll down his cheeks, how much he missed your affection that he alone deprived himself from. How much he longed for this intimacy that once came so easily to him.
“M’sorry,” he muttered at last, lifting his hand to your face and trying to ignore those damn tears spilling from behind his eyelids. “Never doubted you, babygirl, but I just didn’t know how… how to tell you.”
“It’s okay, Joel,” you nuzzled your cheek into his palm, planting a kiss on the inside of his hand. “It’s alright, c’mon here.”
Not letting go of his hand, you tugged him gently and leaned back on the pillows. With great effort he refrained from fighting you, and instead let you pull him down, laying his head on your chest.
And in an instant, everything was alright again. The moment Joel heard your heartbeat under his ear and felt your gentle hands on the nape of his neck and his back… it was like coming home. This feeling of warmth spreading across his limbs made him feel safe for the first time in weeks.
It was so long since he fully let you hold him.
Maybe that’s what he’s been missing.
“I adore you, Joel Miller,” you whispered into the top of his head, holding him close to your heart. “All of you, and just the way you are.”
Joel couldn’t help it – a small smile crept onto his lips.
“Called it,” he murmured. “You’re gettin’ sappy.”
You snorted and kissed his hairline. “I think you need it, handsome.”
“Maybe I do,” he conceded, not moving his head from your chest, and sighed tiredly. “Dammit, missed holdin’ you like this, babygirl. M’so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you countered, but he continued.
“I just didn’t know how to talk about it… How to tell you that I feel bad. About… the way I look.”
Joel felt your hands on his cheeks, and although he really didn’t want to move from the position he was in, he let you lift his head.
“I love the way you look,” you said quietly, in a tone that made Joel’s old heart flutter. “And our bodies change, there’s nothing wrong with that. If anything, I’m really happy that both of us can enjoy this kind of life.” You leaned in and nudged Joel’s nose with yours, closing your eyes. “Every change of our bodies is a sign that we’re finally safe after all we’ve been through.
“But you look gorgeous as ever, sweet girl.”
“M’glad to hear it, Mr Miller,” you teased, but then your smile turned wistful. “But you know, I was insecure about my looks, too, not sure if you noticed. My stomach and thighs, and,” you rolled your eyes, “well, my butt.”
Normally Joel would throw a playful remark, or try to make you giggle, but this time he stayed silent. He just listened to your soft voice, drinking in your features.
“It worried me for some time. But you still put your hand on my leg when I was sitting with you, and you never shied away from telling and showing me,” you stressed this word, a teasing note in your tone, “how much you like my body.”
“‘Course I do,” he murmured quietly, lifting himself on his elbows and leaning over you despite your huffs and efforts to keep him in place.
“So I thought that maybe you didn’t care about this extra weight, or even didn’t–”
The rest of your words were swallowed by Joel’s lips when he kissed you deeply and hungrily. So many strong emotions were swirling inside his chest, he didn’t know anymore what to do with himself. At first you tried to continue your train of thought, but soon gave up, erupting into giggles when Joel latched his lips onto your neck and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to bring you in even closer.
“I didn’t care,” he was whispering into your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. “I don’t.”
“Then you see– Joel, stop it!” You squealed when he carried on with his assault, not giving you a second to gather your thoughts.
“M’so lucky to have you,” he whispered while peppering your face in soft kisses. “Thank you, babygirl.”
You finally managed to free your arms, and you cupped his face in your hands with a huge grin that Joel decided he wanted to see every day. Another adorable giggle escaped you when he snuggled his scratchy cheek into your palm.
“I know it will take time,” you said gently, but firmly, looking deep into his eyes. “But no matter how long it’ll take, I will make you understand how incredibly attracted I am to you.” Joel hung his head low to hide a bashful snigger, and your smile grew. “Understand?”
“Yeah, yeah. Understood, ma’am.”
“Good.” You pulled him closer to plant a slow kiss on his lips, and asked seductively: “I can start right now, if you’d want to. I don’t want my handsome man to feel insecure about any part of him.”
God, he loved you so much.
Joel hid his face in the crook of your neck again, his heart squeezing with adoration and disbelief at how it came that he’d been blessed with someone like you.
“Y’know what, sweetheart? I think it’d do me good.”
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#joel miller#joel miller x y/n#joel tlou#i will actually be taking a break because i have uni stuff to do which i REALLY neglected on behalf of this fic#i really got carried away with this one and the final scene took me so long to write omg#i really tried to approach this topic with respect and understanding and i very much hope it's alright#soft joel miller#joel miller fluff#the last of us fic
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Stretch you out
Pairing: Gym Trainer Yeosang x gn!reader
Word count: 1.4K
Warning: Unprotected sex (make sure you are safe besties), vaginal sex, dry humping kinda??, sub reader, kinda pwp
A/N: I honest can just see Yeo being a gym trainer that you tell your friends you wanna fuck tbh lol. It's just something short and fun to give yall!
"C'mon, you can do it, a little more for me."
"Ahh~ please no more Yeo, you're gonna break me." You said between your battered moaning.
"No I'm not, you can handle it." he giggled as he watched you struggle. Two things were going on right now that caused you to struggle at this moment.
Number one, Yeosang, your unforgiving trainer decided to call you out on your excuses today. You always quit the routines he would give you mid-way saying your body felt tight and that you forgot to stretch at home. Him being a sweetheart he didn't want to overwork you and risk you pulling something so he always let you bail out, however today he offered to help stretch you out and wouldn't take no for an answer. You arrived at his gym prepared to be worked out to high hell today, thank god you got private sessions so no one else would be there to watch you suffer. At first, the stretching was pretty standard and not that bad, you actually felt your body loosening up, he then instructed you to lay on your back so he could stretch your legs, thighs, and glutes. Your heart raced a bit thinking about your sexy and buff trainer gripping your legs and ass but you refrained from thinking too much about it to keep a professional vibe. Feeling Yeosang palm your ass like a basketball made you feel hot inside and you couldn't help but let out small "Fuck"s and whimpers as he shifted your legs in various positions
The thought of him flipping you around with ease while he fucked you turned you on so much, maybe too much because you started to feel your pussy tingle as it got wetter the more he touched you. You looked down to see Yeo sweating from moving you around, the sweat made those huge biceps of his glisten and of course, he chose to wear a sleeveless Nike compression shirt today and his broad chest looked huge, you could feel the room spinning but you kept your composure. It was all swell until he gripped both your ankles and folded your legs to your shoulders.
"Ahhh, fuck." your eyes got wide at your sudden outburst.
"Feels good to be getting stretched out like this huh? See what happens when you prep properly!" He said with an eager smile, he was so sweet and oblivious he didn't realize he was just egging on your fantasy of letting your trainer fuck you good into the gym floor mats.
"Y-yeah." you said as your brain got foggy. Yeosang stretched your legs even more, bringing your ankles to your ears as he leaned his body against you.
This is where your second problem came in, while he was pressing his body against you you started to feel something else press against your core. That's when you realized, Yeosang definitely free balls in his gym clothes because his dick was hard as a pipe pressing against your already needy pussy. Seems like someone else is also enjoying this session a bit too much, but you knew Yeosang would never make a move on you, he was too polite, so now you're stuck with his unhelpful banter and hard dick.
"You're doing such a good job, just a little longer Y/N and we'll be done."
You couldn't help the sounds falling from your mouth as he praised you, you couldn't take it anymore, this was the most torturous version of edging you could think of.
"Y-yeo please, please." you said in a hoarse voice, he tried to get closer which only brushed his length more into your walls.
"What was that? I can't hear you, speak up." he said, no fucking way he doesn't know what he's doing.
"Oh my fucking God Yeo please you're going to kill me."
"You can take it, I know you can." he said, oh yeah he knew exactly what he was doing, he just needed you to give him the green light at this point, he just wanted to hear you say you needed him so he could fuck you senseless right then and there. He pushed on your legs even more, his dick sandwiching between your soaking wet walls as it pressed against your needy clit, you yelled out even more moans, you couldn't hold them back anymore.
"Please just fuck me, please, I need it so bad, please oh my god!" You yelled out, you didn't even realize you said that, your mind was only on getting fucked by him and feeling every inch of his dick inside you.
Yeosang giggled teasingly at your request.
"I thought you would never ask." He sat back on his legs as your weak legs stayed in place, Yeo was a nice guy but he was rude as fuck when it came to sex. He gripped your leggings with both hands in the crotch part and ripped it open, exposing your wet sex. He rubbed his fingers over it as he stared at your kitty like it was the most beautiful sight. He placed his two fingers over your throbbing clit and rubbed circle 8's on it, your hips bucked upward because of the sensitivity, more moans and pleads fell from your lips.
"Do you need to be stretched here too gorgeous?" He said looking up at you with the face of an angel but the horniness of a grown man.
"Yes, please! Please put your dick in me." You continued to beg as your hips bucked and moved on their own, he decided to not make you wait anymore, he pulled his shorts down a bit and let out his angry red dick, he reached for his gym bag, and pulled out a condom.
"Please no Yeo, I want to feel you inside me, I'm on birth control."
Luckily one of the things that came with being your trainer was you being very open with him and telling him everything so he knew you recently were tested and could trust you.
"So needy for her trainers dick, how long have you wanted this love?"
He said as he gripped his dick and lined it up with your entrance.
"So long Yeo, so fucking long." You said as more whiny moans came out of you.
He brushed your wet pussy with his dick to cover it with your slick then pushed his hard tip in, he slowly sank his length into you as he held both your ankles in the air, his mouth was a gape while your eyes rolled to the back of your head, already feeling the rush of your orgasm approaching. He finally bottomed out in you, leaned down, pushing your legs back to your ears, and took no time as he started to drill into your leaky cunt. The macaroni noises your needy pussy was making mixed with your desperate moans was like a porno was being made. He was relentless with how his hips moved as he continued to drill into you.
"Your so wet, you like how my dick stretches your little pussy out? It's so tight I'm surprised I can fit in so easily."
His vulgar words only egged your orgasm on even more, your brain was empty, only hearing the slapping noises being made by the raw and unfiltered sex. You were babbling nonsense while he fucked you dumb. Tears started to fall from your eyes.
"Please Yeo I'm going to cum please fuck me more."
He had a cocky grin on his face watching you get fucked into a dumb drooling, crying mess, he thrust his dick hard and deep into you, you could feel him hitting deep inside.
"Your pussy is going to be nice and stretched out when I'm done, you'll only be able to fit my dick inside of it." His endless stamina from working out was showing because his hips never stopped driving into you. You felt your peak as you screamed his name, drool running down the side of your cheeks as your orgasm took over you, your whole body shook from how powerful it was. Yeosang continued to fuck you through your high, when you finished he pulled out and sat on his knees, he pumped himself a few times then hot ropes of cum shot onto your stomach, legs, and butt, getting all over your clothes, remember when I said he was rude as hell? Thank God these were your gym clothes and you changed here.
He looked at his watch as you were stuck there from getting absolutely drilled.
"Looks like our session is up. Can't wait to see you tomorrow." He said with his cute little smile.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
english love affair
social media au
kpop idol!reader x tom blyth
fc: jennie kim
i love making these and have some in my drafts so feel free to send requests/face claim requests/suggestions
(ps: i had to redo this bc the first time i posted not only did it not post, it didn’t save any of my changes so i had to do it again. 😭)
Requests are OPEN for both soc med aus and blurbs for Tom and his characters
yourusername
liked by zendaya and others
@calvinklein
hunterschafer beautiful girl
liked by yourusername
↪️yourusername that’s you babes 😘
taylorswift so proud of you hon
lola.tung can’t wait to see your pretty face all on the billboards AHH
tomblyth ❤️
liked by yourusername
↪️ user23 OH?
↪️ fan98 they know each other?
↪️ user9 and she liked!
user8 insert olivia wilde nodding meme
random56 when you’re that girl!
username7 y/n world domination she’s a singer dancer rapper songwriter producer model like what can she not do
ynfans
liked by randomuser and others
y/n has now followed actor tom blyth who has recently stared in the new hunger games movie the ballad of songbirds and snakes!
he has previously liked and commented on her recent post, and she’s stated previously that she’s a fan of the trilogy and has watched this new movie multiple times!
ynfan98 this is interesting bc she barely follows ppl as it is
user76 the way she’s barely active on social media and does this she’s so old lady coded 😭
user12 DID YALL SEE TOMS THIRST TRAP
↪️ user8 HIS WHAT?!
↪️ username6 YES SKDKDK not even a few hours since she followed now he’s like this
↪️ random87 real because i’d be thirst trapping to get her attention
tomblyth
liked by yourusername and others
outtakes from my recent vogue italia shoot
user1 ok thirst trap
ynfan NOT HIM POSTING THIS RIGHT AFTER YOURNAME FOLLOWS HIM BACK
↪️ random488 HES SO REAL
↪️ user978 IM CRYING HES SO HOT
↪️ user11 AND IT WORKED SHE LIKED BACK
rachelzegler you look okay i guess 🙄
↪️ tomblyth i’ll take it
mayahawke looking good my boy
↪️ tomblyth 👍
↪️ random5 his millennial ahh reply 😭
liked by mayahawke
yourusername stunning
liked by tomblyth
↪️ user12 not him acting coy after that thirst trap when she followed him 😭
↪️ user9 he thinks he’s slick when he’s probably fangirling she’s noticing him
user12 how did they meet not my worlds colliding
↪️ random1 probably rachel introduced them yk how rach is a social butterfly
liked by rachelzegler
↪️ user9 see? rach liking just confirms it she set them up
blythnation
liked by tbfns and others
tom’s now deleted story (1.12.2024)
user097 not him deleting this naurrr
tomfans wait my friends said they saw him in london what is he doing there if he ain’t filming anything?
user64 wait the shoes he’s holding look like something yn would wear at the recent gala in london hold on 👀👀
↪️ username678 you’re so right cause coincidence i think not
↪️ random75 maybe he went as her date! it’s a big night for her and her career. how sweet!
yourusername
liked by naomi and others
A huge honour to receive the Honorary MBEs and attend the South Korea-UK State Banquet at Buckingham Palace 🎖️💂♀️
onyourm_ark congrats y/nnie!
↪️ yourusername thanks markles im gonna cry omg
↪️ johnnyjsuh so proud of you y/n 🎉🥳
dualipa you’re one of us now 🥰🥰
↪️ yourusername kisses kisses hugs hugs
↪️ user87 one of us like 👀interesting
↪️ person97 cause she got an english man too
oliviarodrigo congrats my love!
liked by yourusername
↪️ yourusername thank you angel ✨
↪️ random97 wait both my girls booed up by english boys they’re on the same wavelength
username188 am i dreaming or does the shoes on tom’s deleted story match her dress
↪️ ynfan I SEE IT OMG did they go together
↪️ fan65 my cousin who works at the palace apparently heard he entered through the private back entrance to attend the ball and seated where he’s not visible by the camera
↪️ user97 so cute for her to bring him as a date! must be serious tho
↪️ randomuser7 great he attended and supported her during one of the biggest nights of her career but didn’t hog the spotlight
↪️ user121 a real man wouldn’t be threatened by a woman’s success
liked by yourusername
↪️ user53 exactly yn deserves someone who knows his place and that she’s a star and not to be jealous and try to stifle her talent and creativity and personality
yourusername posted a story
#tom blyth fanfiction#tom blyth imagine#tom blyth x reader#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x you#tom blyth#tom blyth x you#social media aus#kpop idol reader
442 notes
·
View notes
Text
cold nights // part twenty-eight
summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.3k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: ahh hiii sorry i went ghost on yall i have been BOOKED and i am so sick and just,,, yeah. life is catching up to me omg
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist
Coryo must have been running a few minutes late today, since he hasn't come to get you from your class yet. It was eating into your lunch, which you didn't mind, but still- it was outside of your very structured routine.
Looking down the now almost empty halls, books held against your chest as you wait for your boyfriend.
'Boyfriend'.
The term still felt weird, but you can't help the giddy feeling that manifests into a small smile on your face as butterflies flutter their way into your chest. Still, though, there was no sign of this boyfriend of yours.
"Y/N, hello." Your name pulls you out of the internal mantra, and you look up to its source; a boy who had just walked out of your class after staying back to speak to the professor. He had short hair, styled up the same way Coryo's was day to day now- but it wasn't nearly as blonde. This boy has kind eyes, and it relaxes you from the unexpected interaction.
"Hi there." You smile at the boy, trying to hide how furiously you're searching your head for his name. In classes of forty to fifty students, it was difficult for you to remember especially when you'd only heard their names once and never spoken to essentially all of them. "I'm so sorry," You say to the boy, smile shifting to apologetic. "You'll have to remind me of your name."
"Hilarius." He tells you, and seems to take it in stride.
"Yes! Oh, of course. My apologies." You laugh slightly, a force of habit pushing your hand out to shake his.
He grins as he takes it. "No worries." He adjusts his bag over his shoulder, looking past you and down the halls. "Are... are you waiting for someone?"
"Yes," You nod, and the confusion surrounding why you were just standing there clears from his features. "Coriolanus."
"Ah." Hilarius nods.
"Do you know him?" You ask, having that be your go-to for small talk with your new peers. So far, it's worked well. No one you've had the chance to speak to yet has said no.
"Yeah, yeah. I do." He rubs his jaw as he answers. "We've never been close, but we went to school together. He's in one of my classes now, actually."
"Really?" You smile. "Which one?"
"Poli sci."
"Oh, nice! That's his major. He knows an awful lot about it already- if there's any group projects he's definitely someone you would want working with you." You gush, adjusting your hold on your books.
"Yeah, he's pretty smart." Hilarius agrees.
"Have you decided on your major yet?" You ask. "Political science and English is a wide net to cast."
He shrugs. "Kind of, I don't know. My parents want me to go into business or politics, but I don't think that's what I want."
"The very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream." You hum. "I think you should pursue what you want. Not what they tell you you should."
He tilts his head at you, a confused smile on his face. "You do really speak that way, don't you?"
"Well, yes." You laugh.
"I'll be honest, I thought you were playing us all for fools to try and get people to like you."
"Oh, no. I am not smart enough for a ruse like that." You giggle, shaking your head.
"Sure you are." He laughs. "I mean clearly, you are."
"I promise that's not it at all." You assure him quickly.
"Yeah, yeah I know that." He gives you a calm smile. "Hey, do you... do you have time before your next class? I have a little bit if you want to grab lunch together."
"I do, but I usually eat with Coryo." You explain, but he was fifteen minutes late by now. Maybe if you just went to the courtyard he would meet you there. "But we always eat in the courtyard between the buildings, so if we go there I'm sure he'll know where to find us."
"Then lead the way." Your new friend nods to you and you smile, heading off down the hall in the direction of the exit.
Coryo rushes out of his lecture hall as soon as they're done. How the professor had so little care for holding them back an extra twenty minutes just to "wrap up" on a lecture concept was unbelievable to him. Other people had other classes, and he had to get to you.
When he makes it to your building and your class, he assumes your professor must have done the same thing when he doesn't see you in the hall. Peeking into the classroom, he doesn't have the time to be relieved since another class has already started and you are not sitting there listening. He takes a step back and looks around, thoroughly confused.
Where did she go?
He doesn't know if you're comfortable enough here to be wandering off on your own, but you must be. Or you were with someone. Likely Sejanus, if you were to go off with anyone, but as far as Coryo knew Sejanus was in a class across campus right now. Or he was at least supposed to be.
Immediately he picks up his pace stalking through the halls. After ten minutes, it's clear you were nowhere in the building. He even ran the risk of checking the women's bathrooms after his second lap, scared that maybe you were sick or hurt. But no, you were just gone.
Okay, Coriolanus- think realistically about this. Maybe she just went to wait at our usual lunch spot.
That had to be it, so cursing himself for wasting more time, he heads outside.
Sure enough, he was right. He just wishes he had thought of that sooner- especially when he had neglected the possibility that you had been kidnapped.
"I do love it here, I really do." You smile, trying to be convincing enough to your new friend. "Of course, there is always so much to learn! I'm just really grateful for the opportunity." You say, covering your mouth with your palm as you speak and chew at the same time.
"Come on, Y/N. You can be honest with me." Hilarius says, raising an eyebrow at you. "That sounded extremely scripted. There aren't peacekeepers holding a gun to your head, so... just be honest."
You laugh nervously, looking around. "Okay... I mean, it's fine. I'm comfortable, and I love Coryo and everything don't get me wrong!" You defend quickly, and he just nods. "But... I miss my family and my friends, the music, the food... just, it's really not the same."
"I can imagine." He nods sympathetically.
"Here," You offer him your container of fruit in an effort to soften the subject. "Take some, it's far too much for me."
"Thank you." He agrees politely, taking a raspberry from the mix and popping it into his mouth.
"Please, though, don't tell anyone. I did that whole interview convincing everyone that I was happier than ever here and I just don't want to start any trouble."
"You have my word." Hilarius nods, holding out his pinky to you which you accept with a smile.
"Can I tell you a secret?" He says quietly, and you nod while you grab another strawberry from the glass in your lap.
"You kind of owe me one, now." You tease.
He laughs, but his smile fades quickly. "I feel like... Everyone here loves the games, but I hate them." He admits, taking you by surprise. "I want you to know that I think it's absolutely cruel. I mean, little Wovey... She was just the sweetest and- and I feel so guilty about it all. I wish I got to choose whether or not I wanted to mentor."
You nod, swallowing back the rest of the fruit in your mouth. Suddenly, the sweetness makes you nauseous. "She was." You agree quietly, closing your eyes for a moment and preparing for yet another distressing conversation. "I am sorry I couldn't save her."
"Don't be." He corrects you quickly, a worried expression greeting you when you looked at him again. "That's not what I meant, there was nothing more you could have done. You were a friend to her, she really liked you. She had someone, that's the best either of us could offer."
You nod slightly, chewing instead into your lip and leaving your lunch abandoned. "I-I..." You take a shaky breath. "If I could go back, I would have protected her more. She should have won." You choke your way through the statement, eyes burning from holding back tears. Every time you have one of these conversations it feels like you think someone else should have won. Never you.
"Don't cry, please don't cry." He pleads, placing a hand on your shoulder and you freeze under his touch.
"Don't, please." You say quietly, gently shaking off his hand. You couldn't be touched right now, but how was he to know that? This wasn't his fault.
"I'm sorry." Hilarius says, eyes wide as he watches you. "I didn't think, I shouldn't have said anything but I-"
"What the hell did you say to her?!" Your boyfriend's voice is the next one that rings in your ears, you look up to your right to see him walking over quickly, and Hilarius shuffles to get up.
"Nothing! Nothing, I- I don't know." He defends quickly. "I didn't mean to upset her, honestly."
Then Coryo is crouching in front of you, waving a hand in front of your face. "Hey, you're okay." He says softly, offering you a worried smile. "I've got you, alright?"
You nod a little bit, moving your things away from yourself with trembling hands. "I know."
"Is she okay?" Hilarius asks and you nod again, trying to smile in his direction.
"No. Get out of here, Heavensbee. I'll clean up your mess." Coryo spits at him, and he apologizes again quickly before grabbing his bag and disappearing across the grass.
"Coryo, he didn't-"
"Don't worry about it, love." Coryo smiles at you, suddenly less angry than he was a moment ago. "Just take some deep breaths for me, can you do that?"
"I-I'm fine." You breathe out, chest rising and falling quickly.
"Yeah, you're doing great." Coryo smiles, looking around quickly before adjusting so he's kneeling just in front of you. "Tell me about your readings. Anything good today?" He asks, already knowing the answer.
"I'm glad I went back to class today." You say cheerily as you climb into the car, your boyfriend right on your heels.
"Yes, I am too." He says as you buckle up in the middle seat and he closes the door before getting comfortable next to you. "You're getting so much better."
You nod, looking out through the tinted windows as the car begins to move into traffic. You weren't sure if "better" was the correct term- it didn't sit right with you. You weren't sick, not that you thought, anyway, but maybe he was right. The mention of the other tributes' names would have had you on your knees a matter of months ago; you would have been down for the count for days. Still, though, it felt unsettling to hear it said like that.
If getting better meant not being as hurt by their deaths, maybe it's best if you never recover.
"Hey, are you hungry?" He asks after a moment, watching your eyes glaze over as you stare across him and out the window at all the other young people walking by. "I was thinking we could go try that ice cream place I was telling you about on the train."
You blink away the disassociation, smiling up at him instead. "Yes, that sounds lovely."
"What kind do you think you'll get?" You ask, leaning into Coryo's side as you approach the shop. It was late afternoon, so it was a little busy, but really not all that bad. Crowds bothered you less and less, these days.
"I'm not sure." He replies. "Probably like... vanilla."
"Vanilla?" You giggle. "That's so boring! You said they have every flavour imaginable, and you're settling for vanilla?"
"Okay, well, what do you suggest?" He chuckles, pulling the door open for you as you step through.
"I don't know, I just think you should consider all your options first." You shrug, eyes already landing on the handwritten chalkboard menu that spans the back wall. "Oh, wow..." You say under your breath, eyes going wide.
Coryo watches you with a smile on his face, gently brushing his hand over your back. "Okay, I know what I want." You speak quickly, and he laughs.
"What? There's no way you read all of it just now."
"No, course not." You shake your head, eyes still locked on the board as the sound of people chattering surrounds you. "Coryo, what's white chocolate?" You ask, gently tugging on his sleeve and pointing to where you see it.
"Uh, it's chocolate, but white." He answers, really unsure as well. "Tastes a little different than regular chocolate, but hardly."
"Okay, yes. I want that. With raspberries, it says." You nod in finality.
"Yes, ma'am." He agrees. "Wait right here, love." He says and you nod as he walks over to the counter, and you get to look at the colourful paint on the walls and all the buckets of ice cream behind the glass barrier.
"You're Y/N, right? The victor?" A girl's voice asks you and you turn to instead give them your full attention, nodding with a nervous smile.
"In the flesh." You smile, tilting your head slightly. She must be just a few years younger than you, maybe Len's age.
"Oh, wow! We thought so!" She grins, nodding back to a group of other kids, all of whom are donning the same red uniform you always saw Coryo in earlier in the year. "It's so nice to meet you! Oh my gosh, you're so pretty in person." She gushes. "Not that you weren't on screen, but just- wow, I mean, sorry. I'm just nervous."
"Oh, please, don't be." You smile at her, trying to be reassuring as you press a hand to your chest. "I get nervous meeting people all the time. What's your name, hun?"
"Lexus." She answers with an excited smile and flushed cheeks.
"Lexus! What a beautiful name." You say, partially to fill the silence. "It reminds me of my little brother, his name is Lennox. He's about your age, too."
"That's really cool!" She smiles. "How old are you? I mean, obviously under eighteen, but I'm just wondering because I have an older brother so it would be funny if I was the same age as your brother and my brother was the same age as you. If that makes sense, gosh, sorry- I'm rambling..."
"No, no, you're alright!" You laugh slightly, honestly relieved that she was able to do most of the talking. "And I am eighteen. My birthday was during the games, actually."
Her eyes widen. "Really? That's so lucky! That must have felt so special. What a gift!"
A gift?
You almost choke on the air, patting your hand on your chest as you swallow it down. "Well," You clear your throat, looking over to your boyfriend while he's collecting change from the girl working at the counter. "Only because Coriolanus brought me an amazing gift."
"What did he give you?" She asks, and you still haven't torn your eyes away from him as he walks over, silently pleading for his help.
"What did who give you?" He asks, eyeing her as he walks back up to rejoin you.
"I was just telling Lexus that you gave me an amazing birthday present." You explain.
"Oh, well, no. It was very lame, I'm afraid." He shrugs modestly.
"No, it wasn't!" You laugh, swatting his arm before looking over at her again. "He gave me my favourite book, and his cousin even made me a cake. We had a little celebration just before the games, didn't we?"
"Kind of." He chuckles.
"No, hush. It was perfect, I couldn't have asked for anything better."
"I could think of a few better ways to spend your birthday-"
"You guys are really cute." Lexus cuts in before he can finish, and your cheeks flush pink as your attention is drawn back to her. You don't notice how his face pales.
"Oh, no." You laugh. "He's just a little stubborn sometimes, I think my birthday was perfect, and my opinion on it is the only one that matters, no?" You look up at him, raising an eyebrow.
Coryo collects himself quickly, raising his hands defensively with a smile. "Of course, you're right."
"I know I am." You smile, lifting your nose in pride.
He turns as his name is called, seeing the same girl with your ice cream cones waiting. "Did- did you want a picture or something?" He asks Lexus and she nods, cheeks red.
"If that would be okay, Y/N." She looks to you.
"Oh, of course it is!" You smile, following her back over to the table. Her friends were watching silently the entire time, eyes wide in awe. "Hi..." You say, suddenly nervous as none of them greet you. Lexus must have been the chosen one for being able to speak to you, and she was sent over because the others were too shy.
"Here," Lexus says quickly, moving her bag from the seat at the table and fishing a camera out of it. "Take a seat, I'll sit over here." She slides into her friend's lap across from you, making them all laugh as she holds the camera out to Coryo. "Would you mind?" She asks him.
"Not at all." He says, taking it carefully and turning it over in his hands to find the right button.
"It's that button on the top." She points vaguely and he nods, getting the gist of it quickly. "It comes in handy to be in photography right now, apparently."
You laugh slightly and lean over the table slightly, tilting your head as you smile.
"Ready?" Coryo asks and you nod, hearing mumbles of agreement as you raise your hand from where it rests against the table, holding your pinky under your thumb and raising three fingers.
The flash almost blinds you, but you try not to blink.
"Lovely." Coryo says as he passes the camera back to Lexus and she stands up to take it.
"What does this mean?" Her friend asks, mimicking the salute you did for the photo.
"Oh, we do it back home." You explain. "It means peace and unity, or something along those lines depending on context." Getting up from the seat, you shrug a bit. "Force of habit, I suppose."
"Oh, cool! I didn't know that." She replies and you just nod, eyes following Coryo as he quickly rushes over to grab your ice cream. "Well, I should probably go before that melts, but it was so nice to meet you!"
"Yes, of course, thank you!" Lexus grins. "Maybe we'll see you around!"
"I hope so!" You smile. "Adieu, adieu, adieu! Remember me." You wave, turning to go after your boyfriend.
"What's that from?" He asks when you reach his side, knowing your shift in tone.
"Hamlet." You answer as he holds the ice cream cone out for you and you take it happily.
"Ah." He chuckles, giving the kids a nod as he follows you to the door.
"She said I am so lucky that my birthday was during the games." You say as the door shuts behind you, and you resist the urge to look back in through the window.
"Oh, wow." Coryo laughs, shaking his head. "Yeah, I mean, kids around here don't get it. I don't think they understand what's really happening."
"Clearly not." You focus on licking up the drips that have begun to stray down the side of the cone. "This is really good!" You say excitedly, back to your normal self as you look up to him walking next to you down the sidewalk.
"Yeah?" He smiles.
"Yes." You hum, taking the first real lick off the top. "What did you get?"
"Vanilla." He chuckles, already knowing how you will react.
"Vanilla? Oh, Coryo, you need to expand your horizons a bit." You tsk, teasingly shaking your head at him.
"Hey, it's not my fault it's good."
taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl , @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie, @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses, @cascadingbliss
okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!
also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)
#tbosas#tbosas fic#tbosas fanfiction#tbosas x reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#thg#thg fic#thg fanfic#thg series#thg fanfiction#the hunger games#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus fanfiction#coriolanus imagine#coryo snow#coryo x reader#coryo x you#snow lands on top#snow x reader
172 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can I request something really fluffy Chaggie x female reader? I love them and refuse to separate them.
Yes yes yes! I love them and I love you too anon. Lovely idea, I love me some poly lesbians from hell ❤️🔥 thanks for requesting! Just an update for yall: still at like 40 reqs bc every time I post one, I get at least one new one to replace it 😮💨 so thanks for being patient! And as always, enjoy~
Notes: implied fem!reader, sorry this is short :(
TW: none really, just a lot of fluff
Chaggie x fem!reader ❤️🖤💜
Literally the devil and the angel on your shoulders…😈😇
And they often swap roles- sometimes Charlie is the angel offering wise advice while Vaggie is the devil telling you to just go crazy. Other times, Charlie is the devil talking you into doing ridiculous shit while Vaggie tries to hold you back and talk some sense into you,
What can I say, they’re both switches 😉
You really are in a great polyamorous relationship with these two tho, so full of trust and communication. It’s quite easy actually
You have two girls who love each other and you so deeply that there’s never even any talk about boundaries- you do things as a unit, as a team and somehow, you guys bond so well and rarely bicker
Charlie is always the one to lift your spirits and cheer you on and support your dreams all the way and baby you whether you win or lose.
Vaggie is always the one to bail you out of tough situations and comfort you when things don’t go right and offer you really really great advice and words of affirmation.
Bruh, they’re just so so sweet
SLEEPING IN THE SAME BED ALL TOGETHER EVERY SINGLE NIGHT AHH 💗
Vaggie definitely has to be on one of the edges of the bed, Charlie totally doesn’t mind being on the edge or in the middle so you can choose where you want to be!
They both love to cuddle and they don’t care what position, as long as everyone is included. You wanna be the big spoon? Cool. You wanna be in the middle? Go for it! Wanna lay over both their laps? Do it!
BEWARE: Charlie talks in her sleep and Vaggie occasionally kicks and flails when she has bad dreams lol
You and Charlie definitely stay up until like 4 am some nights, laughing and snacking and watching silly videos online and keeping Vaggie up 😋
Vaggie likes to teach you and Charlie how to defend yourselves- idk I feel like Vaggie would work out often, like at least some yoga in the morning and then like practice sparring ya know? So she likes to spend time with her girls while play fighting and learning together
They’re both very protective of you- they’ve seen a lot of shit down here, Vaggie has seen how tough it can be to be in heaven too.
Walking down the streets of hell, you’ll have Charlie holding your hand or linking arms with you just to keep you close and keep the other sinners away.
Vaggie is your scary guard dog following right behind you two as she looks back and forth, glaring at any sinners who look at you guys for too long.
Often times, they turn to you for advice and comfort too.
Charlie comes crying to you and Vaggie when she’s dwelling in the thought of her mom
Vaggie comes stomping up to you and Charlie, ranting and cussing in Spanish about Alastor pissing her off.
It’s just all very happy and cute and loving and supportive and open.
Never any fights
Only kisses and cuddles and play fights
Very sweet sapphic vibes all around
#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#vaggie x reader#hazbin vaggie#hazbin hotel vaggie#vaggie hazbin hotel#vaggie#chaggie#chaggie x reader#hazbin vaggie x reader#hazbin charlie x reader#charlie hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel charlie#charlie x reader#hazbin charlie#charlie morningstar
120 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cupid, Send Help!
Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
Summary: Ahh, young love! Is what everyone in the BAU would say if either of you realized the other also had feelings.
an: IDIOTS IN LOVE YES YES YES if yall have any ideas send them my way im in a writing mood also there is a slight mention of y/ns eye color my bad gang
Garcia thought she was going to rip out her hair.
It had been a month since I had spilled the beans to Penelope about my small, tiny crush on Reid.
Ok maybe it wasn’t so small.
“Ask him out!” She leaned back in her chair as I nearly choke on my tea
“Absolutely not! He doesn’t even like me like that! Also do you realize how unprofessional that is! Not to mention the amount of paperwork and explaining there’d be. Plus, no one in-“ I’m suddenly cut off when Penelopes warm hands are planted on my cheeks with a firm squeeze
“Hun, I love you dearly but cupid needs to shoot you square in between the eyes.” She pats me on the back as I dejectedly head back to my desk. I notice Spencer leaning over Morgan and the sudden quick smacks to Spencer’s shoulder when I made eye contact with him.
“Yep! Thanks for the help Reid!” Morgan’s eyes snap back to his computer as he clicks around a few times and pulls up some bullshit article
“Anytime!” Spencer quickly stalks back to his desk and tucks his head behind his computer as I sit down at my desk across from Spencer, observing the exchange between the two
“What’d you help with?” I look over his computer to a hunched down Spencer with a tint of red across his face
“Oh, you know! Just some… work… stuff.” He coughed slightly and the blush only got worse as he spoke, a loud slap could be heard through the bullpen as Morgan face palmed at Spencer’s weak excuse
“…Right.” My eyes darted back to Morgan who shrugged slightly and went back to his work
———
I groaned slightly and rubbed my hands over my eyes. This is the 5th time this week my favorite mug has been placed on the highest shelf in the kitchen that I can’t reach. I reach up again and strain to reach but before I could reach it I notice a hand grab it and place it in my reach at last
I smile and spin around to be met with Spencers brown eyes, suddenly very aware of the lack of distance between us.
“Thanks!” A blush blossoms on my face as he takes the biggest step back from me and plays with a button on his shirt. He stutters a bit before saying something along the lines of “Your welcome” and quickly walks away
“You have to be kidding me.” I watch Penelope walk over to me and dramatically fall in my arms, nearly knocking my mug out of my hands “All my hard work to make it romantic, ruined! All because Reids IQ drops when he’s around pretty girl!”
———
I can feel eyes on me.
Spencer had been staring at me for the last 20 minutes, at least.
“Take a photo it’ll last longer” I smile slyly as I look up and make eye contact with him directly, but instead of him shyly looking away his eyebrows knot slightly
“Your eyes have a little green in them.” His head tilts slightly “And your mouth parts when you’re focused, just slightly.”
“Dr. Reid, are you flirting with me?” He doesn’t look away. His gaze looks even more focused while he studies my face like it’s the last time he’d look at it
“I’ve been trying too for a while.” He mutters before quickly realizing just exactly what he admitted
“Really? Wanna elaborate on that?” I giggle as his face bursts into a red haze
“I mean.. well, you’re very attractive and your personality only adds to that! There’s no reason why I wouldn’t like you..”
“Spencer.”
“You let me ramble and never made me feel bad for doing so.”
“Spencer..”
“Your incredibly sweet, and not to mention funny too-“
“Spencer!” He looks up from the spot on his desk he was staring at “Do you wanna get dinner after work?”
“Yes. Please.. I’d like that a lot.” His dopey smile takes over his face as you giggle
“Yes!” Penelope slaps a hand over her mouth as she watches your interaction from the balcony “You owe me $10 Morgan!” She points to Derek who groans
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#daddy issues#I LOVE NERVOUS REID#fidgety reid real
247 notes
·
View notes
Text
answering asks
you'll have to befriend her first sorry
chocolate was the first sweet that Pom had so it's her favorite!! she won't go nuts or anything but she is very easily manipulated if you promise her a bar of chocolate
↓ more asks under the cut!! ↓
wraithification ideally does preserve peoples memories! part of the process is forming the core that holds said memories, so as long as the process goes somewhat smoothly then the person should wake up very disorientated but with their memories and personality in tact.
naw she's thankfully immune to most elemental hazards. one of the perks of being a wraith!
YEAHH i've been trying to keep up with the comics! this comic is a bit old at this point but i'm so glad bald dingo is canon 💖
i think it'd be funny so yeah sure
there is always an inherent risk to the process. i'd say the absolute ideal circumstances you could have would be if a wraith like pom and a doctor like yonny were working together to increase the likelihood of survival. the process hasn't been studied at all, given the rarity of wraiths as an organism and the added rarity of a wraith becoming so attached to a creature that it wants to convert it.
there is a metaphysical aspect to wraiths as a species that defies understanding, so the person being wraithified or the wraith themselves having a strong will for survival would definitely contribute to the success of it. thankfully, unless there's a VERY specific set of circumstances (that are relevant only with someone like yonny wraith who has two cores), the subject would fall unconscious and not form memories of the wraithification itself (which is fortunate, because that would be kinda horrifying).
if she's saving dingo and this is a last ditch effort, pom absolutely puts her whole being into it. it's very, very hard on her and she has every last bit of energy sapped from her. depending on her reserves, she could end up hurting herself with the amount of energy it requires. but wounds are temporary and death is forever, so pom would persevere through and give it her all to save him
yeah! pom's skin might technically be fake because it's made from goo, but she still feels sensations through her goo. she probably doesn't get itchy that easily. she's probably a little ticklish? but i'm not sure if you want to try that on a wraith that could easily stab you in a heartbeat...
wow when i was looking back for this pic i realized i first posted about the pom wraith au on september 1st, so the au is like 4 months old... time flies
WAHHH THANK YOU....🥺💖 asks like this are never a bother!! my favorite part about posting my content online is the engagement like this, i'm very happy to make stuff that you and your bro can bond over
procreate on an ipad! i use an empty cheezits box and three splatoon manga books to prop up my ipad to draw on, and i've been told its one of the worst drawing arrangements ever documented, so no matter how you draw it's probably gonna be better than my set up
of course! i didn't like... invent wraiths or anything. i just expanded on the little tidbits of what we know about wraiths in the pikmin universe. anyone is free to make their own wraith ocs or their own headcanons on what wraiths are
whuh... have i? i post pretty frequently. i used to post a bunch for a week or two and then disappear for 6+ months repeatedly so this is very good compared to my historical track record lol
AHH thank you!! i'm glad that i can inspire!
thank yall for all the asks, i'll continue getting through them... slowly
116 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Vacation
Word count: 4k
Minqi x reader, g!p yuqi, g!p reader, switch!reader,dom!yuqi, Praising, Degrading, small bit of daddy kink, Squirting, creampie, facial, brief mention of sexual protection, mile high club, semi public sex, public sex, pool sex, bathroom sex,threesome, poly relationship, smut, (like alot of smut), hand job,wall sex, drunk sex, blow job
These past few months you have been overwhelmed by work. You have been away from your partners due to touring yall still kept in touch and you visited their concert, but the stress was getting to you and your partners. "Hey why don't we go on a vacation?" Minnie said. "Ha! Where would we even go?" You say looking at her with curiosity. "Thailand!" Minnie shouted excited. "Oohh yes Thailand is so pretty" yuqu said her English flawless.
--------------‐-----------------------------------------------------------
"Yuqi-ah hurry up, we are gonna miss our flight because of you" Minnie said ready to leave and be out the door. "Wait I'm trying to find a place to put gigi". "Just hold her till we get to the airport!" You shouted already tired from waking up early. You and your partners minnie and yuqi planned out a trip to Thailand and to meet Minnie's family, knowing minnie is from Thailand she was very anxious on missing her flight. "Ok, let's go!" Yuqi said finally coming down stairs. "Haha took you long enough" you say grabbing your two suitcases and heading out. Despite yuqi being late and taking her sweet time yall caught your flight just in time.
You board the plane and take your seat by the window happy that you can see all of the beautiful land scape. You put your headphones on and rest your head on the neck pillow you had hoping to catch up on the sleep you missed. "Y/n unnie" yuqi whispers. Knowing yuqi very well you knew she would bother you and well enough you ended up sitting together for a 6 hour flight so you were thankful for your headphones, with minnie being only a few more rows up front from the both of you. "Y/n unnie!" She says as she removed your headphones. "What....What!! Yuqi I'm trying to relax" you say a little bit irritated from your lack of sleep. "We should fuck minnie unnie". "Yuqi-ah I'm not in the mood, if you are horny go to the bathroom and jerk off of something" you say putting your headphones on again closing your eyes . "First off" yuqi says removing your music making device again. "Why not. And second, bold of you to assume something so desperate like that when you are here beside me, don't you want to join the mile high club?" yuqi looks at you her big doe eyes.
You groan a bit exhausted. "I'll wait and pretend I'm using the bathroom but I'll leave the door unlocked" she said winking before getting up to go to "the bathroom". Despite being so tired she was just so tempting. You waited a minute or two before going after her preparing yourself. Next thing you know you are being fucked in a tiny bathroom. "Quickies are such my favorite activity" yuqi said grunting, your moans muffled by yuqis mouth. "Fuck baby~ you are so tight" yuqi says thrusting into your tight ass. "Yuqi please I need more!" You say your cock twitching in need."We are gonna fuck so hard while cause turbulence"Yuqi grabs your aching cock before stroking it."fuck~! Ahh yess" you moan out from pleasure overwhelming you."Look at this little slut, imagine if minnie just walked in on us right now what will she think,that you are a desperate whore that can go a few hours without a dick in their ass" yuqi said her words burned hot against your ear. You felt your orgasm slowly build soon reaching its peak. "Cum...I need to..." a mess of word falling out if your mouth. "That's it baby let that cock cum all over daddy's hand" yuqi says her words pushing you more and more to the edge. A gentle squeeze on your cock and you are already orgasming cumming all over your girlfriends hand.
"Oh my god..." you gasp out. Yuqi continues thrusting in your bit before grabbing a tissue and pulling out and spilling her seed all over it to minimize mess. You pouted a bit visibly upset for yuqi pulling out of you. "Aww don't worry baby soon in Thailand. If you agree to fuck minnie with me" she says. "Why do you want to fuck minne so bad. We are on vacation not on an episode of sex and the city." You say. "Ohhh but it can be.Come on you know minnie is gonna be stressed since she's back at home abd we are meeting her parents soooo why not?" You thought about it and it was quit convincing so you agreed. "Fine I'll do it, can we just get out of this bathroom now before anyone gets suspicious".You leave first then yuqi only a few minutes after continuing your flight.
---------------------------------------------‐----------‐-----------------
When you finally land night fell. Yall arrived late at your staying, being do exhausted yall crashed as soon as yall hit the bed.the next morning minnie wasted no time before showing you and yuqi her favorite places by the way to the resort. By time yall arrived back to the hotel suites it was already 4 pm. You flop on the bed tired from walking. "There is a night club only a few miles away we should go!" Minnie said. "Oh really when is it?" Yuqi says curious as soon as she heard the word club. "Late at night kinda we can go to dinner and then go there there is a really fancy Thai restaurant that I go to often with my parents, speaking of them that's exactly the people we are meeting tonight" minnie says. Sure you've met Minnie's family and sure they were kind but It's like minne planned out to have a blast back in Thailand, she wouldn't stop talking about all the club invites and yacht parties. A "don't stop till ya drop" type party.
You groan at the thought of walking anymore. "Minnie, baby I love your family and I can't wait to have dinner with them but If I take another step I might die can we please just nap,we've been walking non stop we literally JUST landed late at night " you ask desperate for rest. " I am pretty tired so we can sleep together, just, let me make a reservation for tonight's dinner and call my parentsabout the time" minnie says taking her phone and calling the place.
Yuqi flopped beside you with almost the same amount of exhaustion as you have on your own face. "I'm beat....don't have to tell me twice about resting" yuqi says cuddling yourself into her, you and yuqi both stay up a bit waiting for minnie to come to bed with yall. Minnie soon eventually came to bed showing a signs that everything worked out so far and slept with yall.
--‐----------------------------------------------------------------------
By time yall all woke up it was 6:25 pm yall all rush to your suitcases picking out your best outfits and showered before going to dinner. All three of you arrived just in time to meet minnie mom and dad, they seemed so happy to have their little nicha back. Yall all greeted each other exchanging compliments and catching up on time.Dinner with Minnie's parents was great but it was a hard dinner so far.Minnie looked so hot in such a simple dress, that said dress showed off her attractive curves you could feel yourself growing in your pants. To avoid your sinful thoughts you tried to focus on dinner and chatting with minnie parents and having a good time but minnie cleavage was showing just right, and sitting near her drove you insane more and more by the second. You must have not been as sneaky as you thought because she caught you red handed.
She seemed to play along before snaking her hand down to your cock before rubbing it through your clothing. You bump your knee on the table out of reflex from the sudden touch. The shake causing the food dishes to make a loud cling. " y/n?? Are you ok" Minnie's mom asked concern for your possible bruised knee. "I'm fine Mrs yontarak! Dont worry" you say smiling to show that you are ok. "Oh I'm sure she's more then fine don't worry I'll take care of her" minnie says her eyes darkening and sultriness in her voice. Minnie mom smiled back before going back to eating dinner and chatting. You feel the zipper of you pants being slow let down before feeling minnie pull it out leaving you exposed underneath the table (God you hoped nobody would look underneath the table if they dropped their utensils) . You feel minnies hand move up and down your shaft coaxing out a soft moan from you but quite enough only for her to hear. You look at her with tears eyes from embarrassment. You knew she has to make me movement slow in order to not get caught. Minnie took her thumb rubbing it over your head scooping the beads of precum that formed on your tip before licking it off her thumb. Minnie continued stroking your cock going faster each time nobody was looking. God you were going insane, holding back your moans was such a stressful experience. Genuinely surprised nobody could hear the fapping noise from underneath the table. You were sweating hard underneath your shirt blushing profusely. "Y/n are you running a fever? your face is super red" minnie mom asked. You tried your best to form word that would turn into moans "I'm f-ine just hot and thirsty t-hat's all" you lift up your wine glass to make a cheers with her mom taking a sip only to almost spill it when minnie gives a small squeeze on your cock. Her actions continued feeling you twitch more in her hand speeding up till you finally came screaming into the thick dinner napkin. Hot strings of cum shooting out onto the underside of the table painting stripes of white on Minnie's hand as well as the table cloth(thank god for that table cloth) "sorry I had to clear my throat" you say as an excuse for you moaning into a napkin. Minnie soon moved her hand from underneath the table and wiped your mess on her own napkin before getting up. "Y/n can you come to the bathroom with me? I need help with my dress" Minne said, too dazed from your orgasm, you nod and follow her knowing damn well her dress was fine.
Minnie drags you into the bathroom as yall share a sloppy kiss. "I saw how you were looking at me, you a such a dirty slut that you can't stop looking at me for even a second" minnie gasps as she unbuttoned your clothes. "Please I need your cock" minnie begged. You wasted no time thrusting into her. "Fucckk you are so tight and wet" you moan out. Minnie looks at you with pleading eyes. " you don't want the others to be worried huh? So I suggest that you be fast" minnie whispered. This little sentence drove you crazy. Thrusting your thick cock into minnie you grab her by the ass holding her against the wall. God anytime you were in minnie it felt like heaven, her wet warm pussy molded to your body everything, like she was made for you.
"Minnie...fuck...." the weight of minnie and having to stand was wearing you out thin and you needed to rest. "I- I...need to sit down....for a bit...." not wanting to pull out just yet you make your way the toilet seat and sit down. Not the cleanest decision ever in your life but it's better them nothing and much better then yesterday in an airplane bathroom. You let minnie take control and begin to let her ride you. With your hand free you pull down Minnie's top exposing her breast. You wasted no time leaving dark marks on her skin, bitting deep into her skin and soft tits. "Y/n fuckk~ not to many I still have to see my parents...". You ignore her request and begin kissing up her neck till you get to her soft lips. "God but this feels so good~ I'll deal with them later I guess.." she says in defeat. Minnie continued to ride you speeding up till she was going at an inhumane pace. "Minnie....s‐slow....slow down a bit.." you try to form a sentence without busting inside of your girlfriends cunt but in was impossible almost, the way how her pussy squeezed you just right drove you more to continue fucking her. "Min-minnie!!!" You yell out shrieking as you grab her hips before plunging yourself deeper into her warm sex before cumming right into her.
"Y/n NO!!" before minnie could say no you had already burst. Just as soon as you finished yuqi walked in. "Guys we are waiting for-" yuqi looks at the two of you and your act before smirking. "Really guy's without me the betrayal, hurry up so we can leave, we still have a club to go to, yall can bone each other there" yuqi says before leaving. Minnie gets up spiling a bit of your cum out as she got up. "Are you gonna be ok?" You ask. "It's fine, I like creampies anyway" minnie says winking before coming close to your ear and whispering. "I'm going to milk you so hard this vacation your cock will go numb" she backs up fixing her dress and leaving, you follow soon after cleaning yourself up a bit.
----------‐-----‐----------------‐-----‐----------------‐-----‐------
Despite your absence from the end of dinner dinner with Minnie's parents was great. You and your girlfriends get to the club and yuqi immediately order shots for her and yall. "Wowww that's strong" you say your face cringing at the tequila shot. You turn to see minie and yuqi going at it with shots. No matter the alcohol, they just drank and drank. It wasn't any better when their favorite song played the dragged you along on the dance floor and dance but you had to admit the alcohol was getting to you also. The music was blaring but all you could focus on was the way how your girlfriend was grinding against you and yuqi both. "Oookkk yall are super drunk we need to go back to the hotel before you get sick" you say still somewhat sober or more sober then them at least. You turn around just to see the making out sloppily. "Y/n unnieeeee...I'm so fucking horny right now, you know alcohol makes me super horny" yuqi said leaning against you. " We can fuck when we get to the hotel yuqi let's go" minnie said with pure lust in her eyes " I'm so horny I feel like my ovary is going to pop" minnie said as yall exited the club.
By time yall got back it was 1:30 am. It was like as soon as you stepped in your room the air felt like it was thickened with lust. You and yuqi wasted not time attacking Minnie's body. Tearing off each other clothes like animals. Minnie let's out a soft moan as she feels yuqis warm body against hers. " lay back" yuqi whispers to minnie leaving her body to the both of yall. Yuqi slowly dips in-between Minnie's legs breathing against her bare skin. You take this time to softly caress and grope her softy tits. Minnie let's out a sharp moan feeling yuqi lick her wet folds. Yuqi pulled. "Let's both fuck her till she's only moaning our name like a brainwashed slut she is" yuqi said encouraging you a bit. "I wanted her ass first then we can switch" you say giving your cock a few strokes. "Fine by me" minnie says already drenched in arousal.Going one.Two. Three rounds. Good it was so hot the passion filling the room and bonds built stronger. Resting late in the night you all pass out.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
You squirm a bit in your shared bed waking up to stretch. You noticed the two sleeping next to you then noticed your lack of clothes. You hurried and scrambled out of bed to find a pair of new clothing. Yuqi wakes up soon after you and follows the same thing you did leaving minnie still asleep. Yuqi kisses minnie till she woke and dressed decently before ordering food for breakfast to fuel up for another day in Thailand. You all mostly spent the day shopping for clothing and souvenirs, and occasionally yuqi teasing you throughout the day. " I should by a new bikini I forgot to pack mine plus it is our last day in Thailand so why not I really wanted to go swim at the pool late at night". "Ooh we should do that, I'm going to miss this place so much" yuqi said beaming a bit. "Me too, I see why minnie loves it here the food is amazing" you say in response. "Ohh can we get lunch first before we swim I'm starving for some Thai food right now". Minnie laughs at your cuteness before yall tour around some more to grab a bite.
Finally yall were able to go to the pool, changing outfits you were racing yuqi to get in first(it was a tie). Splashing and diving underneath the water. "Ugh this is so nice" yuqi says. "I wonder what's been taking minnie so long" yuqi says looking around. "Maybe she's resting a bit since we just ate". "Oh please everyone knows that's just a myth, nobody is going to get stomach cramps from swimming after you eat" yuqi said with confidence. "How about I give you a cramp you slapsh her with water causing another play fight". "Did I miss something haha yall look ridiculous" minnie said. You and yuqi both stop what yall were doing and stared at minnie in her black bikini, it was simple yet so elegant and sexy . "Yall know it's not nice to stare" minnie says slowly stepping into the pool. "We're sorry it's just-". "Woww" yuqi says finishing your sentence. "Do you remember our plan" yuqi said whispering in your ear. "Yuqi-ah was last night not enough" you groan in protest. "Nope never, Pleaseee,". "Fine only for this week and that's it". "Yayy!".
"Minnie unnie" you say swimming to her "I forgot to put sunscreen on can you help me before it's too late" such a lame excuse but it was better than nothing. "Uh sure I should put some on too while I'm at it" yall both exit the pool and sit down on the ledge. You waited patiently for minnie to finish getting your back before you do her back. You put the cool substance on the palm of your hand before rubbing it in on her back trying to not let her top get in the way. "O-oh is my top in the way, here let me untie it so you can get it more easily" before you could say anything minnie untied her black bikini top covering her exposed chest. "Minnie unnie why are you covering your pretty tits~" you say whispering. "Nobody is here why be so cautious, unless you are scared of someone seeing how much of a slut you are for me and yuqi". Your words send a chill down Minnie's spine, she hesitantly lowered her arms leaving her chest exposed enough for you to sneak your hand to her chest and squeeze it. Minnie let out a soft moan as you continued your movement, you signaled for yuqi to come over and help. Yuqi swam in front of minnie before kissing her you soon tugged at minnie bottoms before she lifted them up allowing yuqi to slip them off. Yuqi then pulls minnie back into the water pinning her against the pool wall kissing her deeply.
You watch as you try to take your clothes off before joining them in the pool." Y/n aren't you gonna use protection first" yuqi teased indicating an unexpected pregnancy. "Whha why are you like this don't ruin the mood" you say blushing in embarrassment from her comment. Yuqi giggles before wasting not even a second before pushing her thick length into minnie causing her to moan out. You step out o the pool above minnie give you cock a few good strokes. "Please put your cock in my mouth I need you" Minnie pleaded. You grin at her desperation but rubbed your tip against her bottom lip. Minnie opens he mouth before Swallowing your cock whole. She wasted no time suckling on your sensitive tip. "Minnie fuck~..." you moan out.
Yuqi continues thrusting into her as best she could going faster each time. The pleasure from yuqi sent moan after moan from her mouth down to the base of your cock causing you to pulsate in her mouth. "Fuck Yuqi-ah don't stop I'm so close" minnie say taking your out her mouth before going right back to sucking you off. " I might be close to if you continue like this minnie" you say your eyebrows knitted with pleasure. Minnie began to massage your soft sac with her hands while looking at you attentively. You couldn't hold back you grabbed the back of her head and pushed down cumming all in her mouth. Minnie swallowed the hot seed in her mouth before smiling at you a bit. Yuqi pulled out forcing minnie and yuqi to be on the ledge of the pool. "Pool sex I so uncomfortable let's go by the pool stairs for more support" yuqi said. Minnie was now facing yuqi with her legs wrapped around her torso as yuqi continued to pound her. Minnie being close from earlier it didn't take her long before trapping yuqi at all angled and spraying all over her lap. "Shit that felt so good" minnie sighed out. It was now your turn to fuck minnie. You took the place of yuqi putting her in a more doggy style position with yuqi being sucked off by minnie this time. You began to slowly thrust, god her pussy was so hot and warm. You continue thrusting through her tight walls giving hard thrust in-between to give yuqi some more pleasure. "I'm close guys.." yuqi grunts a bit. "Wait I want both of yall to cum on my face" minnie says. You and yuqi look at each other then nod. You exit minnie and hover over her again jerking off to get to your peak. "We are gonna paint your face all white when we are done with you" you say hoping to amp the mood a bit. "Fuck yes please use me as your cum dump" minnie says sending you and yuqi into a frenzy. "I'm close on the count of three we cum" you say going faster focusing on yuqis movement. Yuqi nods and begins counting down with you. "1". As minnie watched she opened her mouth for the fat load she was about to receive. "2". A bead of sweat ran down your temple ad you felt the building pleasure. "1!" . You and yuqi let your orgasm go all onto minnies face, on her eyelid, her tongue, even in her hair. Thick white stripes painted minnie like a pastry.
Your breath get heavy as you finished stumbling a bit. "Holy shit that was hot...." yuqi said blushing this was such a "good vacation I wish it didn't have to end". "Me too" you pouted at yuqi. "Do you think we made a mess?" You asked. " Haha probably this pool is probably going to need some extra chlorine." Yuqi said. "Yeah, can we go back to the hotel so we can clean up a bit,we need to leave early tomorrow for our flight" minnie said trying to clear her eye. "Can't we just stay one more day?" Yuqi said. "We can always come back to Thailand Yuqi-ah". "Yeahh but it's so fun". "Next time Yuqi-ah" you smiled softly."Next time, but for now I'm ready to go back to korea" yuqi said laughing as yall headed back to the hotel room
#gidle smut#gidle#kpop smut#kpop#smut#g!p reader#g!p yuqi#g!p#gidle yuqi#song yuqi#yuqi#yuqi x reader#minqi#minnie yontararak#minnie gidle#minnie smut#minnie#nicha yontararak#switch reader#story requests#request
193 notes
·
View notes
Note
Your writing is so amazing! 😲
You mentioned that you like people sharing blurbs so I thought I’d share one!
In Sagau I imagined the statues of the creator to have an aura around it. Like it changes depending on their mood. so sometimes people will visit the statues to feel closer to the creator or to talk to the statue. It would be customary to visit the statues when one is really happy to share their happiness with the creator. Which would cause little bursts of happiness within the creators everyday life.
I just thought it was a sweet headcanon to share! I hope you have a good day!
AHH this got buried in my asks :'(
GOD UR SO SWEET IM SO SORRY I DIDNT SEE THIS FUCK ME-
This gif is what it feels like when ppl send me little snippets or blurbs fr:
Just 😭😭😫😫😫🤲💌💌💝❤️🔥💖💔💕💗💝💘💓💞💗✨️
Thank you so saying that about my writing 🥺<333
this is actualy the best headcanon, i love worldbuilding stuff like this, like reader having statues/how ppl treat them/emotive statues like?? genius??
idk if yall are into the ship, but the worldbuilding in this zhongli/childe fic goes so hard, and this kinda reminded me of how the author descibed genuine/"filling" offerings to the gods being like, less of a business transaction and more of a, "i got so happy seeing all the flowers i handmade a flower crown just to share it with you!" and THATS what you give a god to give them a satisfying meal
EDIT 4/10/24: SORRY I FORGOT TO PUT FIC NAME AND LINK HERE YA GO <3
anyone that being all said i like to take ur headcanon in that way, where ppl make a song or something w/lots of emotion (usually positive) and send it ur way as an offering <3
THANK U AND SORRY AGAIN FOR NEVER REPLYING,
Safe Travels Pebbles,
💀♒
TINY POST BUT PLS FEAST UR EYES UPON THEIR CUTE HEADCANON BELOVEDS <33
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko / @silvers-tongue
#god bless#do u guys know why my blog phrase is lower ur expectations?#bc i knew stuff like this would happen#i am at war w/myself and im trying to war the bystanders fr#i hope u have a great rest of ur week pebbles!! PLS send more if u ever forgive me#ToT#sagau#genshin isekai#genshin imagines#genshin sagau#genshin x reader#genshin impact sagau#aqua chats#stellar stories#aqua rambles#my asks#aqua asks
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ellie Williams Headcanons (NSFW)
summary: just as the title says, ellie headcanons<33
a/n: sorry i don't post as much, i can't think of what to post at all help
oml she LOVES eating you out. it doesn't matter how she does, you can be in missionary and she'll spend her sweet time eating you out. she loves making you get on your hands and knees while she eats you out from the back. loves seeing you push your face into the pillow while sobbing as she makes you come again, holding your hips in the air when you start falling again.
hates seeing you stressed because of work. she makes sure to comfort you when you get home and then will go down on you, she always does anyways but whatever. she'll slowly fuck you with her fingers while slowly lapping at your cunt. she'll make you come a couple times before cleaning you up and making sure you've ate and drank before going to sleep ahh
one thing she'll always love is edging you, especially after she's had a long day. she handcuffs your hands together and will get to work. she'll tease you forever it seems like before finally giving in. will go at it for hours if she wants to before finally making you cum, hopefully she'll get you to squirt<3
will go wild if you go down and suck her strap. she'll go easy on you at first, letting you get used to the strap in your mouth. after awhile she'll lose herself and end up pushing your head down all the way, keeping you there until there's tears streaming down your face
down to try anything as long as you're BOTH comfortable with it. would never forgive herself if she did something to you that you didn't like :(
she loves pda so it doesn't surprise you when she wants to try and fuck you in public. it's not bad at first, it starts with going to the bathroom to make out while she's fingering you, then goes to going at it in the hallway. she's done it while out on potrol before. she can't help herself when you're looking THAT good.
gives the messiest kisses ever istg. at first it'll be all sweet and soft. after a while there will be spit running down both of yalls chin, maybe down your neck. she loves going down and kissing all of your neck and chest, making sure to leave a trail of spit and marks all over you
gets so jealous when she sees a man talking to you when yall are out. will let you keep talking to him but the second he tries to make a move she'll get up and walk over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist while resting her chin on your shoulder. she'll definitely fuck you in the bathroom, making you cum on her tongue before she finally fucks you dumb<3
prefers to fuck you with her strap. she found one while on a supply run and was so excited when she got home. she made sure to wash off when she got back and when you got home... oh my lord. she fucked you so dumb, you could barely talk to her, only able to moan and whisper her name here and there
#ellie x reader#tlou#tlou game#tlou hbo#ellie williams#ellie the last of us#the last of us#ellie williams the last of us#ellie williams x reader#headcanon#i cant write fluff#lesbian sex#mommy
880 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
digitallifestyleblog
AFFILIATE / NETWORK MARKETING
mirykka
oh honey
walaa-ibrahem
lolita
blobghost
A Blob Watching the Chaos
lilies-and-carnations
I am strong