#IM SO SLEEPY but i can’t go to bed yet it’s WAY too early

[hellfireeddiemunson]

i wish napping at 8pm was reasonable and wouldn’t result in me sleeping too long

[zevrra]

hii!! i hope your doing well, im not sure if your requests are open rn

but if they are open, can you please write for Gaara (naruto) x fem reader who’s love language is physical touch? (hand holding, hugs, etc)

🫶 thank you!!

A Shared Touch—

tags: anon request, 18+ characters, gaara x fem!reader, pure fluff, gaara’s love language is 100% physical touch, this is so sappy and lovey dovey jshshs

creator notes: thanks for requesting! hope this is what you had in mind (bc i had no idea what to do im so sorry i wrote this at 2 am kshssjh)!! but i also hope you are doing well and that you enjoy this! thanks again!! ❤️

Sunlight warms your face as you sit at a wooden table. You sit in silence with yourself. Accompanied only by the sound of a soft breeze and a few chirping birds. A range of flowers sits before you, ranging anything from chrysanthemum to peons. Besides the flowers sits a pair of scissors. Using them to cut stems off of a few flowers here and there as you put together a small bouquet.

“What are you doing?” A soft voice asks from inside the doorway to the greenhouse you sit inside of.

Turning to look at the source of the voice and you find your loving boyfriend. A smile as warm as the sun shines on his face and you can’t help but mimic it. “I couldn’t sleep. Came here to do some arranging.” You respond. Watching fondly as he makes his way to your side.

He still wears the clothes he had slept in. He must have just woken up and upon finding your side of the bed came straight out to look for you. The sleepy was still in his eyes even as they look upon you with love.

A chilly hand touches your shoulder, moving to soothe across your neck. His teal eyes glance at your project before looking back at you. “They look as beautiful as you do.” Gaara compliments you.

For the years you had been together it took him quite a while to willingly touch you. Skin on skin contact had been one of his biggest fears. For so long, anytime your hand would reach for his; you were met with a wall of sand. Any brush of skin would have him standing frozen in place. He had never done any of it on purpose though and you knew that. It was pure reflex for the deeply traumatized man. Now it almost felt like he never wanted to stop touching you. To never let you go so he would never have to fear being truly alone again.

You wave his compliment off with a smile. It was too early to be so sappy. You set down your scissors to fully turn and face Gaara. “What about you?” You ask curiously as you grab hold of his hand gently. “Off to some important kage meeting I assume?”

Gaara shakes his head, lifting your hand to his lips and placing a small kiss against your skin. “No, not yet anyway. Just missed you.” He admits with a shy look. Glancing from your pretty face to the flowers you had gotten up that morning to work on.

It was truly a miracle how far the two of you had come. Once, so long ago, he would never have reached for you first. Would have distanced himself as far as he could. But now he sought you out first. Missed you simply because you were not by his side the moment you both woke up. It made you feel wanted and loved. You could only hope he felt the same.

You stand with the help of your boyfriend. Leaning in to kiss him and he meets you halfway more than eagerly. After you two part, he guides you towards the door he had entered from as you two plan to return to your shared home.

“Let’s go make some breakfast.” You offer. Your fingers intertwine with his, giving his hand a tight squeeze. A reassuring gesture that you would never let him go either.

You’d have to return to your flowers later.

[finelinevogue]

I can’t stop thinking about how soft drunk!harry would be🥺 I feel like he’d be so gentle yet his words would have no filter and the missus would just be in awe the entire time

omg dont im so soft for this aahhh

It was after 1 A.M. and Harry should've been home and hour ago.

He had texted you to now wait up for him around 10 P.M., so you'd gotten yourself ready for bed, had a read, before switching out your lights and drifting off to dreamland.

It was now early in the morning and you were worried about Harry's whereabouts.

He had gone out for a couple of hours, having a few drinks with some friends. He had gone to his favourite pub with them and had gotten an Uber there so that you didn't have to drive. It made you happy that he stayed local and didn't need to go into the major cities to have a good night out.

You sat up in bed, switched on the lamp and put on your glasses. Grabbing your phone you checked for any messages off Harry and you were lucky to find a few texts from him.

H💛: On my way back now. Hopefully you're too busy sleeping to read this. I love you.

The concerning matter was that Harry had sent that message at 12:40 A.M. and yet he wasn't laying next to you in your shared bed. Swinging your legs over the bed, you slipped on your slippers and took small steps out into the hallway as your eyes adjusted to the dark light.

You texted Harry back on your way down the stairs asking where he was and whether he was okay, but he didn't respond. You swiftly made your way into the kitchen, searching for the car keys in the top drawer where they were stored at night. You weren't even sure who Harry had gone out with, only that he was out at the 'Black Cat' pub.

You were moments away from calling the landlord of the pub, before he made himself present.

"You're so pretty baby."

Spinning around you were scared for a moment as to where the noise came from, or who more specifically, however when you saw Harry sat on the floor resting against the kitchen cabinets your panic subsided. You didn't even care that he was flat out drunk and still holding a beer in his hand, you were just relieved that he was home if not slightly frustrated that he hadn't even thought to mention that he was back safely.

"Harry!" You said, too excitedly, before kneeling on the floor in front of him.

You took the bottle out of his hand first, placing it on the counter above you. Next, you cradled his face in your hands to make sure that he definitely was real. You had been so scared for what might've had happened to him that you wouldn't be surprised if your brain just conjured up an imaginary Harry, right here, to calm you down.

"Y/N!" He said back just as excitedly.

His arms wrapped around your body in a weird formation, pulling you close into him for a hug. He squeezed you tight, making sure you remembered that he was the best hug giver ever. You had claimed that before and you still stood by it. Even messy drunk Harry gave great hugs.

"What're you doing on the floor?" You chuckled, giving him a kiss to his forehead because you were happy he was here.

"Didn't want to wake you up."

"You wouldn't have baby. I was worried about you." You pouted, which made Harry pout.

"Didn't mean to worry you. Just didn't want to wake you up."

"Yeah, I know. Thank you." You kissed his forehead again.

His cheeks were tinged red and his curls were falling over his face in no particular order. He looked like a cinnamon roll and in fact he was. There'd even been some test to see what bakery product you are and Harry got the cinnamon roll. You were a bagel.

"You okay?" You asked, brushing some hair out of his face.

Getting more comfortable, you switched to sit on you bum instead, sitting by his feet so that you could face Harry. He took your hands in his and you held on tightly, knowing human touch would sober him up a bit.

"Sleepy." He rested his head back against the cabinets.

"We can't go to sleep yet, honey. We have to wait for you to sober up a bit more first, otherwise you're gonna hate the hangover tomorrow."

"But then you can take care of me." He smiled, liking it when you took care of him.

"I still will, but I'd rather just not have to deal with all the gross side effects from you. I can deal with headaches though."

"So you'll scratch m'head and make me a plate of 9 hash browns tomorrow?" He requested.

"9?" You laughed, thinking it such a random number.

"Exactly 9."

"Okay. Yes bubs. I will make you 9 hash browns and scratch y'head. Maybe we can even watch a couple of episodes of Killing Eve?" You suggested.

Recently, you and Harry had been miraculously getting free schedules that matched up. Instead of taking the advantage of this time to go on holidays or travel up and down the country, you had resulted to staying in bed all day and watch countless rounds of television whilst having endless rounds of sex. It was more perfect than any abroad trip you could both come up with. Being in each others company was more than enough for you both, especially in the comfort of your own bed.

"Sounds perfect." He smiled, eyes still dropping from the tiredness catching up with his body and brain.

"Y'want to get up and get ready for bed?" You asked.

"Not yet. Just wanna sit here and talk to y'for a bit more. It's like my favourite thing ever."

[yahsung]

LATE NIGHT FACETIME WITH BOYFRIEND!JISUNG

the way i’ve been gone for like ever but it’s about to be 5am, i have to be up early, and yet jisung is more important

sleeeeepy. you both are really sleepy during your late night call.

“but i miss your voice so much” your high school sweetheart whines to you every time you mention how late it is.

ofc you’ve been on facetime with him for HOURS before it was finally time to snooze.

and ofc you’re both tired and your eyes are slowly closing, silently drifting off to sleep…

but you both also wanna stay up and secretly stare at each other, saying gooey cute things.

tbh you both r kinda super competitive for no reason and wanna see who’ll knock out first

AS IF YOU DON’T FACETIME EVERY NIGHT??

he likes staring at you as you’re slowly drifting off to sleep… smiling all goofy to himself

and when you happen to wake yourself up he’ll either place his hand to cover his big smile or clear his throat

���AHA! i caught you staring at me loser” cue soft defensive jisung to the stage pls “what- who?? ME? YOU’RE THE LOSER”

you don’t know how he happens to be more talkative and energetic this late in the day

shorty will say two words to you during the day but will rant about mark or chenle allll night

“no and you won’t believe what mark did today- it was so funny let me tell you”

he snores just a little teeny weeny bit

you think it’s so cute but you usually fall asleep before him so this is rare when you catch it

you two have so many half asleep screenshots of one another

he sees your late night calls as smth personal and sacred, but he has one of the pics of you as his home screen it’s so cute

one time haechan walked in on you two on facetime suuuuper late into the night

ofc he doesn’t let jisung live it down

“hey rmbr when i walked into you smooching your phone at 4am one night”

you’ve woken up to him basically yelling at you in the morning to charge your phone lol

“jisung can you STOP YELLING im trying to sleep”

no matter how sleepy and tired you are some nights, seeing him with ruffled hair, droopy eyes, and a soft smile always wakes you up

and he honestly can’t go to sleep without knowing you’re doing the same

seeing you sleepy makes him sleepy aw

you’ve spent all nighters watching movies together on your laptops, cozy in your beds, snacks surrounding you, chatting about the movie

other nights where you’re helping each other study for wtv like college classes or personal lessons

oooooh college bf!jisung next???? :0

you could have been hanging out all day together and he’ll call you that same night

he just can’t and won’t ever get tired of you

“we gotta have our daily night facetime call yk?”

he loves loves loooves planning future dates while on call… and he’ll make notes of it too

“it’s like my best ideas come late at night, im such a cool boyfriend”

despite how chatty he is on facetime he absolutely love just staring at you sometimes

“…what are you look at ji?” usually he’ll just smile shyly but sometimes he; “you’re just so amazingly beautiful”

likes to ask you how your day has been and wants to know everything

he’ll listen and gasp at how your day has been, or give his two cents on your gossip

jisung does a lot of talking while on facetime but he loves gathering intel on ppl in your lives and keeping all the info you give him

“i CAN’T believe your friend did that”

he feels so cool knowing everything abt everyone bc he’s ur bf and you tell him everything

if by chance you guys can’t call or it didn’t happen one night, you both realize how those late night facetime calls really matter

it’s sort of like a routine at this point

ok guys i’m getting super sleepy and tired peace out

[saeyoungs-angel]

⨳​ chrysalism — naruto

starring. shikamaru & you

plot. you and shikamaru will never get up early, at-least as long as his routine antics are still around.

genre. fluff

cw. cussing, talk of thunder

notes. another word i found, just means "the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm" yuh hope u like it this is another one from notes btw :)

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! <3

𓆩☆𓆪

“you know we have a busy day today..” i warn, shikamaru trapping me firmly in place beside him on his bed. the sheets are so soft and restful that i inadvertently slip back asleep, thunder jolting me back awake seconds later.

“fuck.. maru, c’mon we gotta get ready. im way to tired to lay down.” i glance behind me towards the man in question, no response.

instead, i try forcibly prying his arms from my body before being hushed.

“okay okay! ten more minutes and we're out the door, deal?” i peek behind me to eye him again as he speaks, taking notice of his tousled locks and drowsy features.

i adjust myself so i can face him properly, weaving my fingers through his wildly mannered hair as if im trying to soothe it.

“hurry up and rest before i change my mind.” i mumble, burying my head in the crook of his neck as the outside sounds of rain and thunder clash with the inside sound of our fan across the room.

my body practically melts into the bed, the only thing tying me to reality being shikamaru’s grip on my waist.

thunder is something i've always thought fondly of; the pleasant crack of sound that comes seconds after a burst of flashy light, then dissipates into a low rumble. how can i conceal my partiality to it when its so fucking pretty?

the smell of rain seeps through the cracks of the windows, coating the room in a light comforting aroma as it mixes with the smell of shikamaru’s apartment—which smells like him, obviously.

wait, what time is it?

i catch a glimpse of the clock as it reads, 10:47 am.

“holy shit! maru get up, if we don't now then we never will!” i panic, attempting to shake him awake as gently as i can muster.

he groans in response, suffocating me in his arms yet again. “ten more miiiinutes..”

“it’s been thirty! this is technically your third set of ten minutes, and that’s three too many! you do this everyday.”

he groans again, fixing his eyes on me in protest, “what a drag. i'll do both of our shit tomorrow, okay? just enjoy a lazy day with me, please.”

i sigh before getting comfortable again beside him, giving in as sleepiness washes over me once more, “this is our longest streak for lazy days, you know that?”

shikamaru smirks as he subconsciously traces random letters on my bare thighs, “so what? it's not like it’s a problem or anything.”

silence ensues before i burst out laughing—or cackling, actually—his words tickling me a bit too much for something that was said so effortlessly.

“what’s so funny?” he glares my way, most likely playing dumb since everyone knows he's not actually this clueless.

“baby.. it’s like a ten day streak.”

“oh, um.. maybe we should get up.”

i await the anticipated retraction of his statment, knowing this ploy all too well—

“on second thought, can’t go back on my word. we’ll do it tomorrow.”

𓆩☆𓆪

feedback is extremely meaningful!

[4dtk]

Are requests open? uhm oh god, i hope im not bothering you but I've had this idea of the reader or jisung (nct) confessing when they're like very very sleep deprived so nonchalantly and the other one is like so surprised\flustered and it can go anywhere from there, i just want a sleep deprived confession with either haechan or jisung. You can ignore this if you don't want to! have a nice day~

hope this isnt too short apologies hrhfjkvfj. enjoy!

“hmmm…“ you’re stumbling around the dorm with incoherent sentences leaving your lips. it’s awfully quiet, but you figured it must be so when the boys had an early morning tomorrow. trying not to make too much noise, though, but you chastise yourself internally for not leaving the gathering a little earlier, now cursed with heavy eyelids and an increased desire to be in your bed.

it wasn’t like you drank or anything, but you tend to resemble those who did. head on your head, excessive blinking, banging into stuff. unfortunately, it gets someone to switch their lights on to see what the commotion was out in the living room.

“(y/n)?” haechan’s soft voice calls out, squinting himself to adjust to the light that seeps in from the small balcony of the dorms. despite your figure being shrouded in darkness, it makes haechan’s heart beat faster anyway, softly sighing at the way you sway lightly to nothing but the rhythm of your heart. with one step, haechan finds himself in front of you and aching to wrap you up in his arms when you stumble after a single step.

there’s a joke lingering at the tip of his tongue, deciding whether he should say it. “falling for me, huh?”

you’re half-consciously landing (or rather, missing) all the smacks you can get out of your worn-down arm, swiping only air as haechan’s soft laughter is heard in the small space between the two of you. he moves to bring you to your room, but a gentle hand pulls him back. “princess? what is it?”

again with the damn pet name. you groan sleepily, mumbling quietly to yourself before you lose all patience.

“you’re so annoying, you know that right? you talk so much and yet i can’t help but- but… i wanna kiss you man! i know all of you call me princess and everything but i only want to hear you say it. y’know that kinda shit?” your head collides with his chest with your messy rant, ignoring how haehcan looks a tad bit taken aback by the confession. there’s a couple of times where he opens and then closes his mouth, short circuiting at how to answer you.

at least you’re currently dozing off on his chest. his eyes trick him, he’s sure of it, seeing how your head moves to how his heart beats, going off in palpitations that he runs your words over in his head again. suddenly, you’re snorting yourself awake as the other tries to stifle a snort of his own. he surrenders only when you glare at him with soft okay, okay’s.

damn you for being so cute.

“princess, you made quite a lot of points there, ‘m not sure if i caught on correctly. so, you do find me annoying.”

a sleepy nod from you.

“you can’t help but…?”

“shut you the fuck up.” haechan doesn’t bother to hide the cheeky grin now.

“and how will you do that?”

“i’ll kiss— heyyyy!” your slurred words and half-asleep brain reboots at how haechan wants to bring a second confession out of you that it only causes a domino of self-awareness.

wait. shutting him up, what does that mean? second confession?!

you no longer need your bed, but rather the speed and stamina to run away from the current situation. you try to do just that, failing immediately by how haechan yanks you back into his embrace.

“(y/n)... i,” his arms curl tighter around you, pushing you further into his neck where you trace his moles with your eyes. “do you mean it?”

“...of course i mean it, dummy.”

there's a hint of a smile from the other, feeling it in your hair. as energetic as haechan could be, this night was different. his silence lulls you to sleep, his swaying makes you feel safe. your heart flutters like every time when he caresses your back. kiss. “thank god. i was wonderin’ how i needed to confess.”

“c’mon, i'm sure you’re beat. let’s get to sleep, princess.”

[sombreboy]

Expensive doll⇢jjk & pjm

[ masterlist ] Serves as an afterstory for our series Mused Obsession, but can be read on its own. 

Written together with @chimoona​ as JM and @sombreboy​ as JK

Synopsis: In celebration of their one year anniversary, Jungkook dresses Jimin up in lingerie & makeup as his picture-perfect doll and ruins him in every way he desires.

⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 15.7k ⇢Ch.warnings: Profanity, JM dressing in lingerie and wearing makeup, messy kissing, degrading petnames and dirtytalk, breathplay, bj, praise kink, JK's fetish for crybaby JM remains intact, body worship, foot fetish JK literally slorps JM's petite little foot and it is v erotic join us feet hoes, some biting, mentions of blood(from a sharp stiletto lol dw), ok hold up and stay w me here JK rides JM but he is in no way a bottom, this is some top ridin' stuff to drive Jm mad and let me tell you it works, then JK puts little JM back in his place where he belongs stuffed with dick, rough fucking, in fact its so rough that JM can't hold his pee im not even sorry-- it was hot, idk what else if you've read any of my stuff you should just kinda know what you're up for. xo

The chime of the security alarm strikes the quiet mansion as Jungkook shuts the door behind him, kicking off his shoes in a hurry. He hugs luxury shopping bags close to his chest, trembling with excitement. He'd been holding onto the bags at work to ensure Jimin didn't see them for days, which felt like months—especially today, to finally come home to his favorite person in the entire universe and spend their first official anniversary together.

It's been an entire year since Jimin proved his love and dedication to the photographer, and life couldn't be any better than it is now. They're unstoppable, thriving as the biggest names in the industry. With a lot of fame—a lot more on Jimin's end—comes a lot of work and less time together, except for when they manage to crawl into bed at the end of the day. So, Jeon Jungkook wanted to make tonight extra special. He'd missed having Jimin truly just for himself; not just as a boyfriend, but as a model and his muse.

"Baby, I'm home." Jungkook calls out as he eyes the rooms, listening to where Jimin could be. He knows the model had the day off, so the younger man had given him a little white lie—he wouldn’t be able to make it home early. Yet here he is, giddy like a child and ready to surprise his beloved butterfly.

"Come to me~" He adds cheerfully while walking towards the stairs, searching for Jimin when he hears the small thuds of his lover's light footsteps.

"K-kookie?" Jimin calls from their bedroom, rubbing his sleepy eyes after a long nap. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Jungkook arrive.

Thinking he had more time to get dressed and ready for their night together, he's caught, fresh from restful sleep, wearing only an oversized t-shirt and tight black briefs. The night was planned to a T...in Jimin's mind. A brand new suit hung in the walk-in closet, designed and tailored specifically for his body. He knows how the young photographer likes to ogle when the fabric of his pants hugs his plump cheeks daringly, almost too tight for a public setting.

But tonight, there will be no public outing. No distractions from the outside world, getting in the way of their time together.

As high-profile as the two men have grown over the last year, they've found it hard to take a leisurely night out on the town without being spotted by a fan of their work or an industry mate trying to cut into their fun. It's been a rollercoaster, but it's been the thrill of their lives. Even then, it's necessary to plan nights of relaxation and indulgence. So, Jimin set out candles and dipped ruby ripe strawberries in milk chocolate, planning a romantic night with just the two of them. He even chilled a bottle of overpriced champagne—a gift from Namjoon, hand-delivered for the happy couple. It was assumed that since Jungkook was working late, the ambiance of a well-kept home and a willing partner was all he wanted anyhow... Until, of course, Jimin glides down the stairs and spots his lover with armfuls of bags. Designer bags.

"Welcome h-ooome," he yawns, still finding his voice, "And happy anniversary, baby." He leans in and stands on his toes, pressing his body into the bags held at Jungkook's chest to give him a sweet kiss. "I missed you a lot...and I cleaned up too, but I guess I fell asleep at some point. I was going to get all pretty for you, so just pretend I'm dressed up right now."

“You’re gorgeous, baby.” Jungkook smiles into the kiss, returning it softly. He pulls back to drink in the fresh state Jimin is in. No makeup, barely dressed... It's like the visionary’s plans were fated to happen. “And this is perfect for what I have planned for you. A clean canvas, so to speak.” The young photographer adds as he hands over the bags to his lover. “Take off everything you’re wearing and put this on, nothing else. And bring the small bag with you to the studio.” He leans in closer to allow the hot breath of every spoken word to fan over Jimin’s cheek, whispering his next words. “I’ll be waiting for you. Okay? Now go.”

Accustomed to following the photographer's orders, Jimin doesn't waste a moment scurrying to the bathroom and peeling off his shirt on the way in. He kicks off his underwear and sits on the closed toilet seat to skim through the first bag's contents. The second he runs his hands over smooth silk ribbons and lace, his heart leaps out of his chest. 

Lingerie. Women's lingerie, he notes internally as his fingers skim the fabric with a timid touch. It feels small in his hand, and he already knows it's not meant to cover much. Jungkook has always been an appreciator of visual art, and in the back of Jimin's mind, he always knew this moment would come. The female form can be voluptuous and sensual—soft to the touch and comforting when held close. 

Without taking the lingerie out to inspect it closely, Jimin knows this look is made to illuminate his feminine traits—to hug the small of his waist and accentuate the curve of his hips, prominently displaying some of his lover's favorite parts with exaggerated flair.

As a former full-time model, Jimin doesn't think twice about indulging this new request from Jungkook. He's been half-naked in front of strangers in very scandalous clothing, it's only right he indulges his partner with the same courtesy, under his exact specifications. 

He sets the smaller bag aside and removes the clothing, gasping at the bright red shade the younger man had chosen. It looks like fresh blood as he tugs it onto his small body—ribbons drip down his legs to capture the matching set of pure red stockings. When he slips them over his legs, they stop at the feet, hugging them tight and showing the delicate curve of his arches.

A slender garter belt cinches high around his waist and rests low on his hips, made of a thin weave of lace that opens up at the belly button to show off the cute dip of his tummy. Not even fully dressed, he feels pretty...desirable. With each new addition, he feels his confidence grow, matching the opulent fit his love has chosen for their special occasion. Jimin grasps the silk ties that dangle off the belt and loop them into the stockings, holding them tight against his body and matching the two pieces as one. He takes his time to billow the ties into eye-catching bows, adding more of a feminine flair to his long slender legs. 

He opens another bag and clasps his hand over his mouth, pulling out an accompanying bralette, so fair and petite. It's soft on his skin. Everything feels so soft and erotic, like it was crafted to draw moans from his mouth before he's even touched by warm hands. The gentle graze of the lace over his nipples makes him bite his lower lip to push back building arousal. When he crosses his legs to finish clasping the bralette behind his back, he feels the rub of new lace against his cock, only drawing his attention to the fact that women's underwear does not provide enough room to hold him fully. If he gets harder, which he's certain he will, it will be impossible not to poke out and dribble over the rouge fabric.

Once Jimin empties the bags and slips every bit of clothing onto his body, he steps back to admire the full look. Even in the dim bathroom mirror, he finds every little bit of his form jaw-dropping as it's prettily wrapped in red. But no look is complete without a matching set of kitten heels, which he slips onto his red silken feet. He immediately notices how the added height accentuates his plump cheeks, out in the open, skimmed down the center with a cheeky thong.

"Woah..." The model takes a few strides across the bathroom floor to get a feel for the new footwear. A few clumsy trips over the tile to get started, but after a couple minutes, his confidence is through the roof. He can stride effortlessly and sway his hips in a subtle yet seductive manner.

"O-okay." He psyches himself up, licking his thick lips in a quick swipe while he drinks in a final look of his fit. He grabs the smallest bag, still unopened, and exits the bathroom to find Jungkook waiting for him in his personal studio.

Meanwhile, Jungkook just finished setting up the finishing touches to his studio and waited for the most important centerpiece of the night. His favorite camera sits on a tripod next to his large armchair, which is to be his spot to admire his creation. He presses record before he forgets to, and knowing how he will soon see his lover in the new lingerie, there'd be no time to think about whether or not the camera captures it all. What he didn't expect, however, was to find the fresh chocolate dipped strawberries, paired with a bottle of champagne. He immediately noted that this wasn't something he had in his own collection, so he figured this was Jimin's preparation for the night.

"So sweet to me, always.." Jungkook sighs dreamily when placing the strawberries and the bottle on the small table next to his chair as he takes his seat. His lover always finds little ways to show his affection; always considerate of Jungkook in everything he does. It's cute, and even if the elder man's plans might not be what he initially thought, Kook is sure that this will surpass anything he had in mind.

"He should be here soon..." He leans back in his seat, still wearing the suit he'd worn all day at work. His strong, tattooed fingers wrap around his tie and tug at it to loosen the fabric a bit. He rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt after discarding the suit jacket to let it be thrown on the floor behind the chair. His breathing slows down when he listens intently for the powerful sound of heels coming from the bedroom, echoing in the hallway. Although he knows what to expect, he still doesn't know just how it would look-- how his Jimin would pull off the look. The thick swallow in anticipation causes his adam's apple to bob, already excited as his heart beats harder in his chest.

Jimin bottles his nerves and clicks his heels with slow steps, echoing deliberately on the hard floor until he reaches the studio doorway.

"Don't laugh, okay?" He smirks at his own words, still hidden around the corner of the doorframe, knowing there's no way on earth Jungkook could find this fit humorous. "I'm coming in..."

One step forward, and he's basked in the low light of the photographer's setup. He swallows hard at the first sight of Jungkook, even when he's dressed the same as when he left him. The loosened tie captures his attention, and he swallows again at the thought of holding it while he glides his silken legs over his lover's lap to ride him roughly. The anticipation of what Jungkook has in store for Jimin is overwhelming.

Jimin gives the photographer a moment to gather himself before he walks forward, placing one heel in front of the other and sashaying his hips with each step. The camera blinks red to indicate it's recording, and Jimin doesn't let it distract his attention for a second. He moves in a slow weave, looking up at his partner under a tempting hooded gaze--long eyelashes beckoning him closer. When he reaches the center of the studio, he stops for further instruction, standing with confidence and poise. 

"You chose well, baby. I love it." He gives a slow twirl, pivoting on his slim heel to show off the back, pausing to give the younger man a good look. "...do you like it?"

“I really like it.. I knew you’d look perfect in this.” Jungkook drinks in the entirety of his lover, his heavy gaze not leaving a single inch of the model's body unseen. The lingerie is perfect, covering just enough—but doesn’t hide anything. His hungry eyes travel down the blonde model’s back; from his slender back to his plump ass, not to mention how the posture from the heels make it stand out even more. “Did you bring the small bag?” He asks, beckoning Jimin to come closer with a wave of his hand, itching to feel his delicate body beneath his fingertips.

Jimin nods yes, stepping towards his lover. "I didn't peek, I was good." He says it in an innocent tone, as if he doesn't look like a goddamn succubus in fuck-me heels. A brilliant red strap of his bralette slips down his shoulder, which he takes his time slipping back into place. Even if he feels a bit out of place in this new look, he pulls it off with grace and seduction.

Jimin hands the bag to Jungkook. "I'm sure whatever it is, it'll make this moment even better." He kneels at the photographer's feet in a natural subservient position, resting his elbows on the man's thighs and peering up at him for further instruction.

"Yes." Jungkook says softly while taking the bag in his hands, giving Jimin an approving smile. While his face remains unbothered, the strain of his half erect cock proves that he's anything but. The visuals of the elder in such sinful fabrics drives him crazy, and eager to ruin them in every way he pleases. "You're such a good boy to me. Always trusting me with your everything."

Jungkook digs into the bag, pulling out a small, high end lipstick. He puts the bag to the side, grabbing Jimin's chin with his free hand while popping the lid off the lipstick with his thumb, leaning forward in his seat to get a proper look of his lover's bare face. 

"Pout." He instructs, twirling the little stick to slide the blood red lipstick from hiding, bringing it close to Jimin's plump lips. When the blonde does as told, he gently swipes the crimson color onto the delicate skin of Jimin's lower lip. His cock throbs at how effortlessly it stains his pretty mouth, and he keeps adding more; layer after layer until he's satisfied with the deep, bloody red adorning one of many favorite features of his man. 

"You look like a doll already, so pretty.." Jungkook sighs, a mixture of his adoration and sexual frustration building at the sight. But he's patient, and leans back a bit to inspect his work, moving his hold on the smaller man's jaw to rub his thumb over Jimin's lips, staining the pad of his finger in the process.

A moan presses passed Jimin’s pursed pout. All he’s ever wanted since he met the mysterious man is to be everything for him—there, at his feet, living to serve his deepest desires. To give a taste of his commitment to the role, he swipes his pierced tongue over the finger in a slow motion.

“I can see how hard you’re getting, Kookie...” He takes the thumb between his stained lips and circles his tongue around it, releasing with a light pop. “...seeing me like this, dressed in the underwear you chose...” He peers down at the slick thumb and admires the prominent stain—a perfect shade to match the rest of his ensemble. “...bet you’d love to admire every inch of your creation.” Jimin circles his tongue around the digit once more and pulls it into his mouth, humming his pleasure into the photographer’s skin. He brings a hand up to palm his lover’s stiffening length through unbuttoned pants.

"Mm, you know exactly what I like." Jungkook purrs, glancing down for a moment to watch Jimin's delicate hand touch his hard length, now prominent through the fabrics keeping it hidden. His gaze travels back to the model's face. Seeing Jimin's doe eyes look up at him with such submission, admiration... love. It drives the photographer mad with desire.

"There's so much I wanna do to you." He breathes out, his sentence ending with a quiet moan as he bucks up into Jimin's small palm. When his lust takes over, slowly and steadily, his impulses grow more reckless. "Or make you do, for me.." He adds before swiping his thumb over the lipstick once more, dragging the pad of his digit further past the corner of the model's mouth. A stripe smeared in red adorns Jimin's cheek like a small chelsea smile-effect. Jungkook's hand moves back down to wrap behind Jimin's neck, covering his nape with the warmth of his palm as he leans forward to draw his lover in for a messy kiss, aiding in the destruction of the pretty lipstick he'd just applied. 

A red mess is created between the two, their lips coated with splashes of the color and the taste of chemicals mixing with their saliva. But Kook doesn't care—instead, he enjoys every second of it, forcing his tongue between Jimin's parted lips to claim his mouth.

"Look at you..." Jungkook murmurs when he pulls back, the thick string of saliva connecting their tongues breaking off when he speaks, watching it fall to stick to Jimin's chin. "Your makeup got ruined, what a shame.." The faux concern in his tone is evident in contrast to the pleased fire in his eyes. He takes the lipstick, grabbing the blonde's jaw a bit harder this time to reapply, not bothering to wipe off the already smeared makeup around the lips. "Baby... Take my dick out while I fix this, I'm aching."

Jimin pants, left breathless from the younger man's kiss. "Mm--ah...okay." His hand resumes gentle strokes over the clothed length, just feeling for a moment while he distracts his mind from his own growing erection. The press of his pink swollen cock head tests the integrity of the lace, making it bulge out noticeably. When his hand slips into Jungkook's pants to pet him bare, he can't bite back the whimpers of need that brush his partner's fingers.

"Y-you really are aching." Jimin's mouth salivates, murmuring the words to avoid messing up Jungkook's artwork. "Fuck...so big, baby." The blonde model uses one hand to tug down his lover's pants and underwear while the other maintains a languid pace over his silken skin. He takes a pause to bring his messy lips close, wetting Jungkook's shaft with an audible spit that dribbles down his chin. He's never been perfect at following instructions when arousal fogs his mind. At this moment, he needs to hear the slick sounds of cock in his hand. He needs to feel the warmth of blood pulsating under his touch, stiffening and dripping for more. 

"May I taste you, sir?" He reverts back to his role, asking sweetly, nipping the bottom lip and smudging the lipstick even more. "Please."

“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” Jungkook looks at his creation, already seeing the blonde mess up the lipstick with his spit and nipping of his lips. It both pleased him and annoyed him, but the heavy arousal weighing on him clouds his judgement and makes him more forgiving towards Jimin’s light disobedience. It’s to be expected, and seeing his lips messy and smeared with red while sucking his cock is all the photographer could think of, for now. “If that’s what my baby wants,” he sighs, reaching out to smudge the other end of the corner of the model's mouth, finishing the joker-like smile on his cheeks. 

Kook leans back in his seat again, moving his hands to rest on his thighs. Kook’s gaze is focused on Jimin, drinking in every feature, observing every little movement. He zeroes in on his messy lips, and feels a moan scratching at the back of his throat at the sight. He can’t wait to see his lover turn into a broken mess, one step at a time. 

“Suck it deeply.. take all of it. No teasing.”

To test the waters, Jimin gives a light swipe along the bottom of Jungkook's shaft, drawing his pink muscle up to the tip and swirling it around the leaking slit in tight circles. 

"Mm, uhm—ahh..." Jimin becomes vocal, humming around the thick length as he pops it in and out of his plump lips, watching it twitch with delight each time he strips Jungkook of his building pleasure. Jungkook said not to tease, but the pretty little blonde craves to feel each shudder of arousal. Each touch from him is live-wired to the younger man, and Jimin feels powerful by causing it to happen. Plus, as an added perk, he knows the slow and drawn-out pace will cause more trouble for him in the long-run. And...what's life without a little pain? He anticipates it. He knows, as nicely as he's dressed, his partner can easily turn him into a crying mess without any regard for the flashy fine clothing. No amount of silk and lace can conceal his inner need to be lovingly destroyed. 

With a lasting swipe of his hot tongue across the ridge of Jungkook's tip, Jimin pops it into between his rouge lips, already smearing a bit of the lipstick over the smooth skin. He bobs his head to wet the throbbing cock, spilling his saliva down the length of it with little to no regard for the mess it creates. He knows, better than anyone, the messier he is, the better.

"Ah, mmh—I told you, no teasing..." Jungkook huffs with furrowed brows, focused on how well Jimin takes his girthy length all the way, dragging his tongue against the smooth skin, watching himself get covered in saliva and faint marks of the lipstick.

"Always making it difficult for me, looking so sweet and innocent..." Jungkook licks his lips at the sight of the elder's messy mouth, makeup smearing past his lips and drooling down his chin onto his length. He's sucked the photographer's cock countless times, so he knows exactly how to do it, and his gag reflex had become close to nonexistent. But, that doesn't mean it's not there, one just has to use a bit of force. "But you're anything but innocent, aren't you? Sucking me off like a cockhungry whore." The photographer bites back a moan, unable to keep his hands off of Jimin for too long before he's already weaving his fingers through his lover's blonde curls to get a good grip. He's gentle at first, just feeling the motion of Jimin's head bob up and down his length, wet sounds and whiny, muffled moans filling the room as no other sound is audible inside the isolated space.

"So be it. If you want my cock that badly, then keep sucking." Jungkook tugs at Jimin's hair, forcing his head to move harder and faster. His generous length makes space in the model's delicate throat, forcing the continuous pool of drool to seep from Jimin's mouth to add to the mess, not allowing him to get off to breathe except from his nose.

Jimin crosses his ankles and rests his bare butt on top of the heels. They clack together as he bends forward and bobs his head steadily, opening up his throat to feel Jungkook's wet tip guide the way. Inch by fleshy inch, his lover's cock fills the space within him. It causes his own cock to peek out of the slim red lace and poke Jimin's abdomen as he bends deep. The blonde swallows around Jungkook's fat cock and holds still, warming it as deep as he can possibly bear, forcing himself to wait until he feels lightheaded.

When his lungs burn for breath, he withdraws slowly, tonguing the prominent veins that bulge along his lover's shaft. "Mmf...g-ah—ack!" He chokes on the last couple inches and holds his small palms in the inner curve of Jungkook's thighs for balance. "...Mine. All mine...tastes so yummy," he emphasizes, swiping a bead of precum directly from the leaking slit. Lost in his own little world, feeling pretty yet needy for friction, he wraps a hand around the shaft and strokes it up and down quickly.

" I-I'm your whore, sir." He looks the part—plump lips and cheeks stained with red, stringing long strands of his spit to the younger's twitching head. To the outside world, he's nothing but the most well-kept, straight-laced individual. Here? He lets go entirely, making his body available for use without a care of how someone else perceives him. The only opinion that matters is the man before him. 

Jimin looks down and notices a strap of his bralette had fallen down, only matching his role of sultry temptress...quickly morphing to messy slut. He purposefully lets the other strap fall, looking up at Jungkook with beckoning lashes. 

"Am I doing well?"

"Mm.. Could do better." Jungkook lies, towering over Jimin's small frame on the floor. His long, raven curls fall forward, framing his sharp features. Being in this position, seeing everything from above, makes him feel so utterly powerful. And Jimin's big, glossy eyes meeting his own only adds to the fire that awakens every single hormone in his body.

In reality, Jimin is doing well. In fact, he's doing an amazing job at driving the photographer mad. His cock twitches delightfully in the model's hands, his abdomen tightening in excitement and heart fluttering beneath his heaving ribcage.

"A job well done isn't without your pretty tears, baby." Jungkook says softly, taking deep breaths to keep his voice from wavering too much in pleasure. He strokes his fingers through his lover's bright, silky curls, coaxing him to take him back into his mouth. "Choke on it, but don't make me cum... Just enough to make your eyes sparkle for me."

Jimin chokes on nothing but a quick gasp. "O-of course." He shrinks under Jungkook's commanding gaze and rubs his thighs together, wishing he had permission to adjust his now fully erect cock. To solidify his subservience, on top of his now glassy eyes, he takes another step and clasps his hands behind his back. No ties or cuffs are necessary, although he'd enjoy being bound tight and abused for being a tease—it was the plan all along.

"I love you," he whispers, swallowing down a fresh wave of emotion and looking up to let Jungkook admire the first tear roll down his cheek. The wet droplet catches the makeup and slips off his chin to seep into his bright red lingerie. Jimin holds eye contact and sticks out his tongue, showing off the pretty piece of jewelry at the center, right where Jungkook placed it nearly a year ago. He gives a couple testing kitten licks, then hovers his pout over the tip, plunging the full length down his throat without a testing suck. No more teasing, he tells himself, gagging around the fat cock. 

Just as Jungkook demanded, Jimin strips himself of breath until he's crying for relief. Hands still clasped tight and out of the way, he's given himself no way of escape, showing his true resilience and commitment to the task he's given.

“Oh, my Jimin..” Jungkook sighs in pleasure, watching how his hefty length disappears into the welcoming warmth of his lover's throat. The flesh contracts around him when the model gags, squeezing tightly to draw more low moans and grunts from the photographer. “You’re doing so well now.” He praises, brushing his thumb beneath Jimin’s eye to catch a few tears. He’s convinced that although there’s a million types of makeup to make one look perfect, Jimin looks his prettiest when his skin is glowing from the shine of his tears. The way his submissive stare from below is sparkling like little stars, just for Jeon Jungkook. The way Jimin will endure anything to please.

“Nobody is prettier than you.” Jungkook bites his lower lip at the sight below, and grows impatient. He keeps a tight grip on his lover's hair, cock deeply buried in his throat while he stands up from his seat. “Nobody could ever compare to you, butterfly.” He hisses, feeling the heat of his words creep onto his cheeks while meeting the elders glossy eyes. He withdraws his hips slowly, only to thrust forward and lodge the head of his jeweled cock as deep as possible. He sighs, lip quivering at his lover's compliance. It’s too exciting, his body is practically shaking with itching, aggressive longing to destroy Jimin further. Patience, he reminds himself. It is their special night, so he wants to ensure Jimin feels like the most desired human in the universe.

The warming praise gives Jimin the courage he needs to slide his lips up the rigid length, gliding his wet ribbed tongue in gentle sweeps. His throat burns from the intrusion, yet, it's a familiar sensation and it does very little to detract him from bobbing his head and building up the photographer until he's at his brink. Slick, slobbery sucks and the occasional gag and gasp for breath becomes the playlist of their evening. Even the model becomes affected by his own desperate sounds. He wiggles his plump butt in a subtle motion to take his attention off the desire pulsing in his veins. He sucks and tongues, staring up at Jungkook until his vision blurs with a wave of new tears. Jimin rests back on his heels to catch his breath, letting the throbbing cock flop out of his mouth and into his hand, holding it firm and continuing to bring his lover close to the edge without immediate relief.

"Fuck me." The second the words leave his swollen lipstick-smeared lips is the moment he cracks, just a little. Hot tears fall down Jimin's cheeks--hand stroking the soaked length until he's trembling to be touched. "I n-need you, Kookie."

Within what seems like a split second, Jungkook dropped to his knees on the floor in front of Jimin; framing his small face in his large palms to draw him in for a messy kiss. He can taste everything-- the mixture of lipstick and saliva, sullied with the taste of his own cock lingering on the model's tongue. But the highlight of it all is the salty topping of Jimin's tears, a clear result of his effort and submission that he worked himself so hard that his body rejected it-- and yet endured to fulfill the photographer's desires.

"Haah, you need me?" Jungkook chuckles when he pulls back from the heated kiss, lingering close to softly press his lips over Jimin's damp cheeks. His own are stained with a faint red, transferred from the elder's pillowy ones.

"Sure you're not tired of this cock?" He smiles as he continues to kiss away Jimin's tears, tongue poking out to lick his cheek as his hot breath fans his face. While he does so, his hands let go of Jimin's face to smooth down his slender form, snaking behind his back until they settle on his ass, mercilessly squeezing the flesh between his fingers. "After you got a taste of Joonie, maybe I won't be enough?" Jungkook's wolfish smile doesn't falter, knowing this will tug at his lover's heartstrings. His kisses travel south, leaving red sucks and bites to blossom on the model's fair skin in it's path down to find a spot by his collarbone where he sucks harshly, certain that it'll leave a possessive mark behind.

"Joonie?" The tears on Jimin's cheeks glisten under the studio lights. His quivering bottom lip juts out in a pout as he naturally leans into the breath of Jungkook's suckles. The hot, tongued, needy markings become painful. Jimin huffs out a low moan. "Hyung was big...but he doesn't taste like you...fuck--" He takes Jungkook's face between his hands and returns the kiss, mashing their lips together messily, parting his mouth and giving him a longing taste of what he desires most. The model draws back slowly, making sure thin strands of their combined saliva string between their tongues, obvious for his lover to admire.

"You're more than enough..." Jimin whispers, letting a hand drop back to Jungkook's swollen cock, still dripping wet with his spit and precum. "I only beg for you, baby. I only want you...playing with me...fucking me...using me until I c-cry." He scoots forward and lets the length drop from his hand, then lifts his knees to straddle the photographer's lap on the floor. While the move may be a little too desperate, he doesn't have a single shred of care in his small body. He aches to feel his love's large hands tug at the lingerie, to feel the way his dripping cock strains against the material, and how it hugs his tense thighs. More than anything, he wants to rock his plump cheeks over Jungkook's shaft, until he's shaking to rip off every bit of red satin and lace from his skin. Jimin pleas in a cracked voice. "Will you make me cry, Kookie?"

"How can you say it so sweetly, as if you aren't crying already..." Jungkook admires the disheveled man before him, lips swollen and messy with smeared makeup. The loose bands of the bralette hang down Jimin's small biceps, adding to the vision in the photographer's mind. "You know how I love it when you beg like this." The younger's strained voice breaks into a low, needy growl when aggression fuels his sadistic desires to go further. Jimin knows this is just one of his ways to show his affection, this is how he's always been, and will continue to always be. Jungkook's greedy hands knead at the flesh of Jimin's ass, nails scraping the fabrics of the lingerie, tugging so harshly that it struggles to not break in his grasp. He spreads the model's ass, keeping the lingerie in the way of his tight entrance as his rigid length rubs against it.

"I don't want you to cry..." Jungkook presses Jimin's ass down, rubbing his cock between the soft cheeks of the model's ass. He looks at his face, never wavering the intense eye contact he initiates while one hand withdraws from it's hold to scavenge the floor next to him, grabbing the opened lipstick. He leans forward, one arm snaking around Jimin's small waist to keep him in place, thick length snugly pressed beneath the blonde's weight while the other hand resumes to add another layer of lipstick, fixing the mess without cleaning up what's been smeared. "I want you to scream so loud that you cannot make a single sound," He smiles, pressing the lipstick harder against his lips, adding a second layer, watching the product crumble a little. "I want you to choke on your own cries, because you can't think of anything else but me."

One last swipe, and Jungkook moves on to draw a little heart in the middle of Jimin's chest, filling it in meticulously. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek in focus, before he finishes and looks back up at the elder. "Now..." He sighs, feeling the painful aching when his cock throbs against the damp lingerie separating himself from being inside of Jimin. He nudges his chin in the direction behind him towards the armchair. "Get up."

The soft pink curve of Jungkook’s lips tempts Jimin to lean in and sully his fair skin with the clumpy lipstick. But he refrains, because he trusts the vision of his photographer—always. He looks like sin—dressed as an upscale whore, made a hot mess by the various layers of makeup applied between spit-slicked kisses and mouth fucking. He would have never chosen this look for himself, and that’s part of the thrill. It’s fresh and exciting, knowing only he can fulfill this erotic vision; being the only muse fit for the occasion, or any other.

“Yes, sir.” Jimin stands to his feet, a little wobbly as he adjusts to the height of the heels. The chair feels miles away the farther the small model steps away from his partner. Yet, the mystery of what could come next makes his heart thunder in his chest. He rubs his lips together to smooth the luxe lipstick, rubbing beyond his natural lines to make his pillowy plush pout look even fuller. Jimin sits on the chair, prim and proper with his legs crossed, pointing the tip of a slim heel in Jungkook’s direction.

“How would you like me?” He asks innocently in a sweet tone, as if he isn’t dressed in women’s lingerie, practically dripping with precum, hard cock straining against the lace.

“Like that, just like that...'' Jungkook stares up from his position on the floor, crawling forward on all fours like a predator slowly approaching it's prey. A new spark of various emotions swirl in his gaze, ranging from admiration and affection-- drowning in the crazed hunger that seeps through his blown out pupils. Having the Park Jimin looking like a hot mess made his cock stir painfully as he tucked himself back in his underwear, leaving the pants undone. It wasn't his turn yet, and as they both know-- the reward of patience will be immensely satisfying.

"Can you imagine if anybody else saw you like this? Every media source would explode, the internet would be on fire." Jungkook sighs dreamily from the mere thought of it. What makes it so good, is the fact that he remains the only person... Well, out of two, in the world to see the famous model and designer turn into a submissive plaything. "You'd lose everything... And for what? To please me?" Jungkook shakes his head, chuckling in a mocking manner as if it's unbelievable that Jimin would go such daring lengths of risking everything, time and time again, just to keep Jeon Jungkook happy.

Just to be his whore.

"And that is why I love you... You know exactly how I like you." The photographer says softly. His gaze drinks up the view above him, from Jimin's messy pout, down his clammy, heaving chest, to his crossed thighs hiding the pretty little cock that is most definitely screaming for relief.

"A needy whore. A compliant whore." Jungkook murmurs to himself when his gaze finds the heel pointing at him. His hands greedily reach out to grab Jimin's delicate ankle, kissing and biting at the stockings covering his soft skin. His free hand grabs the shoe, slowly sliding it off to place it on the floor with unexpected care. He looks up at the blonde again, his dark stare softening at the small gasps continuously pushing past Jimin's swollen lips. Kook kisses travel further down, his own breaths becoming heavy and shaky at how feminine Jimin's small foot looks, covered with the see through fabrics, holding it in his hand like it's the most precious thing he's ever seen.

"A doll." He smiles, closing his eyes when he indulges, flattening his tongue to lick a long, slow, stripe from Jimin's heel to his toe.

“S-shit...” The wet pink muscle tickles Jimin’s sensitive arch, but the pressure of it makes it more enjoyable than he anticipated. Every square inch of his body has been worshipped, marked, pleasured, pained, and all the rest of it—every sensation imaginable, Jungkook has inflicted it with purpose. Even as he pleases his own carnal impulses, he dangles new kinks in the model’s face, tempting him to grasp them tight.

“What are you—“ He knew the second he slipped on those tantalizing stilettos that there was a greater plan in store. The dagger-sharp, pointed heels could easily be used as weapons. After a year with Jungkook, he’s learned how much weaponry and danger makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Jimin moans delicately.

“Do you like my feet, puppy?” The glide of Jungkook’s tongue can be felt through the sheer fabric, seeping the moisture of his spit down to the skin. “Want to taste more?” Sitting on his makeshift throne makes him feel power and strength. He’s well aware that in a heartbeat he can be rag-dolled in any position the younger man desires, but he’s placed in a position of command with his partner at his feet. So he lifts his other foot off the floor and places the sharp point of his shoe onto Jungkook’s thigh, digging it into the muscle just a bit. “Tear the stockings, please.” Jimin’s voice shakes. “R-ruin them. Take it off, with your teeth.”

Jungkook's grasp around Jimin's ankle tightens when he feels the pointy heel dig into his thigh, drawing a low moan from deep within his chest. He gazes up at Jimin through his dark lashes, crooking an eyebrow.

"What was that?" his wicked smile is hiding behind Jimin's foot, which he kisses the sole of between his words. "I thought I heard the doll speak, I must be mad..." Jungkook purposely put Jimin in this position, knowing exactly how it'd make him feel to see the photographer on his knees. The bratty side to the model always knew how to spur-- or in this case, literally step on his nerves to get what he wants. It all serves to the buildup of a bigger purpose; the more riled up Jungkook becomes, the harder Jimin gets fucked. And he knows it too well. Just how long it'll take before he gets what he wants, is the big question.

He looks up at his hot mess of a lover again, saying nothing as he silently obeys his wish when he bites down on the fabrics, carelessly dragging his teeth against the fair skin as he does so. He pulls back, ripping the expensive material off like a kid that's too excited on Christmas to care about whether the wrapping paper is torn to shreds. He nips at the broken fabrics, slowly sliding it off from his lower leg and down to slip it off his foot, audibly spitting it out from his mouth to lunge back in. His hands withdraw to settle on the other leg, still covered and dressed with the heel that so deliciously stings into his muscular thigh. He strokes it gently, so carefully it must tickle more than anything, while wrapping his plush, lipstick stained lips around Jimin's toe, sucking and tonguing it shamelessly with low hums in satisfaction and hot breaths through his nose.

It is overwhelming to even think about the erotic visuals he's capturing on camera, so much that his cheeks flush with heat, and his thick bulge twitches with every little stroke of his tongue that snakes around and in-between the model's petite toes.

"Gah--fucking...shit--ah!" Jimin chokes on a whine as his first digit slips into Jungkook's hot mouth. Each delicate nerve ending sparks to life and ripples tingly pleasurable goosebumps up his legs. He clamps his thighs shut and adjusts the heel, scraping into the fabric of his pants, testing the limit of Jungkook's flesh. Mind over matter, the small male wriggles his butt in his seat, internally battling the conflicting tickly sensations vs his overbearing arousal. With just a single toe suckled between his favorite pair of messy lips, his mind numbs and his limbs tense to claw for leverage. Feeling this, and seeing it happen--admiring the way Jungkook's long lashes close gently as he indulges in the moment. Jimin grips the chair arms in both hands and tears his sharp nails into the upholstery. Jimin mewls, straining to keep quiet, allowing his partner to focus on his indulgence.

“Mm--ah, ah, god..." He closes his eyes and simply feels the movement of the wet muscle, licking between his toes, around them, sucking them into his mouth, until they're glistening in his saliva. "M-more--more..." he whispers, slapping a hand over his begging lips. He broke the stocking, slid it off of him with his teeth without any regard to the price or quality of the fabric. No moment of hesitation to argue against the command or counter with something more enjoyable for both of them. Spoiled, is the word Jimin thinks of...he's pampered in this position, given exactly what he needs, like a prized porcelain doll.

"M-mooore," he whines from behind his hand, biting hard into the soft skin between his pointer finger and thumb, muffling the garbled sounds and using pressure to distract. His eyes seek the recording camera before letting a tear slide down his ruddy cheek, swiping his small tongue over his rouge pout and swallowing hard. "Baby, f-feels--mmf...so good. Looks so pretty..."

With a wet pop, Jungkook withdraws his lips from Jimin's cleaned up toes. His eyes open slowly as he does so, looking up at the overwhelmed man above, shaking with his arousal and inner battle to stay still and receiving the reward. Who the reward is for remains a mystery.

"So greedy... Didn't know you loved having your filthy toes sucked so much." He hums, glancing down at the wet patch of precum staining his underwear, a clear result of just how much he enjoys it as well. "What else do you want?"

Jungkook doesn't look at Jimin while asking, but keeps his attention on the slender legs in front of him. He grabs the model's ankle, uncrossing his legs to spread them wide, scuffing closer between to where he can access and lean his cheek against Jimin's inner thigh, so close but so far away from the aching, pretty cock that's barely covered by the soft lace.

"You're really digging that heel into my leg, baby... Ouch..." He sighs, feeling his length throb with every movement that twists the heel into his flesh. He purposely chose sharp heels, feeling his mixture of bad temper, impatience and lust fill him with every hot breath pushing past his lips. He snakes a hand down between his legs, slipping past the waistband of his boxers to squeeze his cock tightly, staring up at Jimin with doe puppy eyes, rubbing his cheek against the clammy skin of the blonde's thigh. "It hurts, hmm.. Ah.." He closes his eyes again, kissing the skin softly, seemingly gentle-- until his lips curl into a small smile, parting his teeth only to bite down on Jimin's flesh, leaving a possessive mark behind.

Jimin's nails tear away from the upholstery and grasp Jungkook by the roots.

"Sss--ow, fuuck." The fresh mark lays very close to the tattoo on his thigh, still brilliantly colorful with dark shading, like he got it weeks prior. A bruise begins to bloom between the embedded dips where Jungkook's teeth sunk in. It's hot and tender and ignites the rest of his skin to an even coat of blush. Without noticing, Jimin drags his heel down gradually, brought to attention when it clacks onto the floor in front of Jungkook's knelt frame...Tempting…

"Oh, baby. It hurts, huh?" Jimin coos as his fingers naturally soothe the sensitive skin of his lover's scalp. He notices a new hole in Jungkook's pants where his heel punctured through, straight down to the skin. On the fine tip of the heel is a subtle patch of blood where he scraped a little too roughly. "Poor puppy..."

It's a rare occasion to have the photographer in such a submissive state, but he seems to enjoy it more and more once Jimin inflicts a little pain. So that's exactly what the model does, to give back the pleasure and revel in the pristine imagery of his lover on bent knees to please. "Lick it," Jimin says in a quiet voice, bringing his heel to his partner's lips. He clears his throat and states it again, louder and with confidence, wrapping his other leg over Jungkook's shoulder and pulling him closer to the sharp point. "Just like you did my toes, clean this pretty heel."

"Mm? That's what you want..." Jungkook squeezes his cock tighter, blocking the blood flow until he feels his pulse thunder through the swollen tip. He tilts his head to the side slightly, giving Jimin a good view of the way he leans in and opens his mouth wide. His tongue snakes around the sharp heel, scooping up the droplet of his own blood to coat his wet muscle in a thin layer of red. His raised eyebrows serve as a silent question of whether or not he is doing it right... And by the way Jimin's big eyes are quivering as they meet his own, he's more than certain of the answer.

Jungkook hums lowly, a deep moan caught in his throat when he tugs the waistband down to set his cock free from hiding once more, openly massaging his slick length to the way he keeps licking the heel, from the sharpness to the sole, a flattened tongue dragging up like a dog lapping up their favorite meal.

"That's g-good...so good." Any mortal man would go cross eyed from the sinful sight. Jimin is made tougher than most, strong from being with Jungkook, but he's easily bent and broken from the simplest sights. Anything from the younger man melts the model's mind to horny mush--trying on a new pair of Versace shades, or hitting a high score on Overwatch, or sloppily sipping a bananamilk until the container runs dry. This visual, however...is quite complex. The blonde sweats lightly, swallowing tight and combing his fingers through Jungkook's shaggy raven locks, getting lost in the action. He isn't even directly touched, and yet, he feels electric shock waves of pleasure from simply watching Jungkook thumb over his dripping cock head and lap the razor sharp edge of his stiletto.

"Keep touching yourself," he whimpers, gaze hungrily following the younger man's slippery pink tongue slide over the last unsullied strip of heel. "A-and...gah...don't cum." Jimin wrenches his eyes shut and moves his other hand down to touch himself too. His hand grips his needy length tight through the sheer fabric and he bucks upward to chase the friction. In the process, he jolts the heel between his love's lips and gives the plump bottom pout a swift cut. "Shit, puppy, I-I'm..."

Jungkook grunts, flinching slightly from the unexpected. He looks down, seeing as blood drips from his lip to the floor into a growing puddle, deep enough to give a burning sensation in his delicate skin. Deep enough to fuel his various emotions..

"You got too greedy." He mumbles, not bothering to wipe it off as it creates a red string of liquid running down his chin when he looks up at Jimin. His doe eyes fade into the familiar dark stare that the model knows too well. Jungkook could only hold his faux submission for so long, his generosity for the night of giving Jimin the sense of power running out quickly.

"But you just can't control yourself, can you?" Jungkook gets up on his feet, placing his hands on the armrests while towering close over Jimin, face inches away from the mess of a man. "What am I gonna do with such a slut... Getting so excited you can't even sit still in a fuckin' chair." He hisses, swiping up the blood on his lip with his tongue, mixing it with his spit. He grabs Jimin's jaw tightly, forcing his mouth open, tilting his little head back while he hovers over him. "Guess you'll just have to reap what you sow, little whore." He murmurs against Jimin's lips before he parts his own, letting the bloody mixture of his saliva drip into Jimin's lips, seeping into his mouth. He keeps a tight grip on the model, not letting him move or reject the offer the photographer gives him. Kook shimmies out of his pants while he does so, slowly climbing on top to straddle Jimin's lap, caging his small frame onto the chair.

The model nods rapidly, brushing the bloody mixture between their painted lips.

"I'll take it all." A string of Jungkook's red saliva trails between their parted mouths as Jimin arches up and steals a couple desperate kisses. "Anything you want to do t-to me." Whether he believes his own words or not is a big mystery. When he says anything, he forgets just how unpredictable and harsh his love can be when provoked. But in the moment, it feels right, especially when the heat of Jungkook's bare cock is felt so close to where he wants it most.

Jimin reaches his arms around Jungkook's torso, feels the muscles of his back tense and release while he finds his footing. He breathes in through his nose to smell the gentle cologne and musk of the photographer, and the very faint but nostalgic and calming scent of his shampoo. Jimin flicks out his tongue and tastes the rust that lingers atop the lipstick, closes his teary eyes to center himself before the pain takes hold. Perhaps there will be humiliation, or both, simultaneously.

"Anything, huh..." Jungkook looks at Jimin through mischievous eyes. His cock lays heavy against the model's clammy stomach, twitching at the new idea running through his mind. Normally, this is not something he would desire.. But this is a special occasion, and the action would fit the punishment and sate the unusual urges coaxing him to do what he does next. Jungkook leans in to kiss Jimin, keeping one palm on his lover's messy cheek. Jimin's lipstick moistens up, once again staining the photographer's mouth in their hot kiss-- a distraction from the way his other hand snakes behind him when he lifts his hips up, grabbing the elder's aching cock. He doesn't do much to prepare more than spread the slick precum along Jimin's length before guiding the swollen tip to his ass, stopping when he slowly sinks down on it until just the head slips in, drawing a hot gasp to push past his lips.

"Do not move." Jungkook whispers, kissing down the blonde's jaw to his neck, taking a few deep breaths as he sinks down further until Jimin's entire length is buried inside. Kook stays still for merely seconds, not allowing himself to adjust properly before he heaves himself up halfway, only to fall back down. The sound of his plump ass flattening against Jimin's thighs mixes in with the quiet grunts in pain and pleasure coming from him. It isn't his favorite thing to do-- preferably on the giving end, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy feeling Jimin writhe beneath him in various ways. Supposedly, Jungkook remains on the giving end, whether it's his cock or his ass that is the gift.

"Mmh, 's tight... Right?" He settles his hands on Jimin's chest, tilting his head to the side as he sits up straight to watch the man below from his higher view. His hips show less mercy as he gets used to it, finding a slow rhythm, "And your cock isn't even that big..." he shakes his head, feeling the heat on his cheeks in the form of a lustful blush when he finds an angle that brushes his prostate, grinding his ass down to chase that feeling over and over. "Just shows how much of a cockwhore you are for being able to take one as big as mine, ah shit.."

Jimin's sweaty palms clamor over Jungkook's back and move down to grip him hard at the hips. His eyes roll to the back of his head as his small body is engulfed by lean muscle and a hot grip around his cock. "Kookie, you--" This is the last thing he expected to happen--watching helplessly and breathing labored breaths as Jungkook's taut rim rides him rough. The sensation is more than expected, and much more than he remembers. "I can't, baby, it's too...much--fuck--" Nails pierce slicked skin as Jimin thrusts up to chase the hot clenching hole. Each time Jungkook pulls up, he whimpers at the loss and uses his wavering strength to pull him back down with an audible smack. The weight of the photographer is much more than he can bear, but he digs his heel into the ground to hold what little balance he has left, so hard he's sure the pin-point could snap at any moment. "So tight...around my cock...hahhh." Jimin's breaths grow weaker and thinner, gradually winded from the smack, smacking against his reddened thighs. "I--I--" He bites onto Jungkook's arm to hold steady, watching the room wobble in his peripherals. "Might c-cum in--gah!"

"Hah... I t-told you not to move." Jungkook's shaky, strained voice came out as a hiss between breathy gasps every time his ass collided with Jimin's firm thighs. Jimin's series of disobedient actions didn't bother Jungkook as much as they normally would, as this is a special occasion after all-- especially when he willingly put himself in a faux submissive state just to allow Jimin to indulge in a different way for the night. "Now you'll have to deal w-with, iiit-- fuck.." He clenches Jimin's hard cock tight when the latter bites onto his arm, the rush of the pain making him fuck himself rougher on top of the model. "Now you started it, so fuck me harde-er! Don't stop.." Jungkook growls lowly, shamelessly moaning and watching his own cock rub and drool against Jimin's stomach. With one hand firmly on Jimin's chest, the other smoothes up his neck to wrap around it, applying just enough pressure to put his lover in a deeper haze, ensuring that although he's not sure whether or not he's allowed to cum inside, he will have no other choice but to do so-- Jungkook wants him to lose any self control, and fill him up with shame and fear in his eyes of doing something he wasn't permitted to.

The straps of Jimin's bralette slaps off his shoulders once again, the small cups of it sliding around his chest the more his bouncing partner rubs against it. The momentum and chafe of the fabric teases his sensitive buds and makes them stiff, red, and swollen. So he lets the rest of the fabric fall down his body until his chest is bare, dewy with sweat. "Yes--hah ahh...s-sir." His own confirmation tapers to a pathetic whine as his breath weakens. Jungkook's grasp pins him by the neck, into the chair. The only freedom he's granted is the weak thrust of his hips to fuck the younger man from below, which he does to the best of his ability, growing weaker by the second. He won't stop, even if it means he blacks out from exertion, which feels closer than he likes to admit. Jimin pants heavily and digs in his fingertips. "I'll fill up this p-pretty hole." He speaks with delirious lust lacing his tone, just the way he would want to hear it. "Is that what you want, baby? Fuck, you're so t-tight--ahh! Can't wait..."

Jungkook leans in closer, slowing down his harsh thrusts only to replace them with slow, deep grinding. He licks his bloody lower lip, nodding while staring down at Jimin's heavy, zoned out gaze. He's losing it completely, and yet he tries too hard to please and do as told, and it warms the photographer's heart-- and it makes his cock leak profusely with the immense need to cum. So, therefore, he needs Jimin to break so he can finally give back what he's been holding for what feels like hours. "Yeah, fill me up well baby. Cum in me as deep as you possibly fuckin' can." The younger says with his low, lustful tone, still keeping his hold on Jimin's throat without loosening or tightening it. He inches closer to kiss his face, hot breaths huffing to warm his lover's skin with every grunt and moan that leaves his lips when he feels Jimin's hard cock prodding at his prostate with every fluid motion of his hips. "Cum," Jungkook repeats, deliberately clenching down on Jimin's cock, licking his cheek possessively, "Claim me with your filthy cum."

"Anything you want--ah!" Jimin's eyes screw shut as he rocks his thrusts up into Jungkook's wanting hole. "Feel my cock dragging in and out? Feel how n-needy I am to spill every fucking drop inside you?" His mind truly turns to mush, like a fever dream, losing any semblance of here and now. Only indulging in the very millisecond in which his body trembles to feel everything, all at once. "It's all for you, baby." He pontificates his oath with a harsh thrust from below, scraping his nails until the tender flesh of Jungkook's sides, drawing blood in his wake. "Fuck my cock...bounce on i-it...gahh!" The model becomes a shell of himself, as if he's boneless, thrusting his release in labored spurts, into his young love. "Moan for me, Kookie. Tear at this expensive lingerie and tell me I'm the prettiest man that's ever fucked you raw."

Jimin’s sudden and harsh words takes Jungkook by surprise— he expected the elder to fall apart one way of the other when he came inside, but what he didn’t expect was the spark of dominance that laced his voice and transferred to the way he clawed at the youngers skin. “F-fuck, ah— ow, mmhm...” Jungkook bites back his moans, to no avail when his sides are tortured by the models sharp nails, unable to hold back his pathetic whines when he feels his insides become filled with filthy, thick gushes of warm cum. “God, Jimin— J-Jimin, it hurts...” He gasps, letting himself and allowing a glimpse of actual submission to shine through his shivering body. His hands don’t know where to be, so he does as told and grabs the bralette in his fist and tugs, using his strength that’s spurred by pain to rip it off his lovers chest, while the other hand keeps him steady by grasping into the backrest of the chair. “Shit, I didn’t know you could say such things... that’s so hot, baby.” Jungkook huffs when he gathers himself slowly, unmoving while Jimin’s cock pulsates inside of him. He sighs and whines from the painful stretch of taking it without preparation, overestimating himself and yet relishing in the uncomfortable feeling. Jungkook glanced down at his bloody waist when he lifts himself from Jimin’s lap to let the latters length slip out, a splurt of cum seeping out with it. He hums in both delight and disgust, not used to the feeling of being on the receiving end..

“You did well baby.” Jungkook reaches behind him, catching a generous amount of Jimin’s cum to coat two of his fingers before bringing it to his mouth, licking it clean for the elder to see. The coy mischief returns to his gaze, leaning close to press his swollen length against Jimin’s stomach to let him know playtime’s far from over. “My turn. You good?” He places a kiss on Jimin’s scorching lips. “I can fuck you harder than that. Show you how it’s done..”

The photographer's proposition snaps Jimin back into the moment--eyes wide and dark, needing to feel exactly what he's inadvertently promised. As if the mere mention of fucking his needy hole is enough to make the blonde bend in any which way necessary to prove Jungkook's point. "Prove it," Jimin goads, unaware of the power that laces his tone. "I'm tired of being your porcelain doll...make me your filthy whore." The model wriggles from underneath the photographer until he's free from his caging clutch. Once he's able to maneuver solo, he flips himself over and juts out his plump ass, resting his ruddy cheek against the upholstery of the chair.

“Huh... maybe I spoiled you too much.” Jungkook drinks in the view below, standing up on his feet to properly watch the way Jimin arches his back to offer his body willingly— or rather, demanding his body be used like a disposable toy. A shiver ran down his spine as he replayed Jimin’s words over and over. A challenge, that he knows the model is aware that he can beat without even thinking. He must be so lonely, that the mere thought of having his unused hole filled drives him mad with need, and the temporary dominance got to his head. Kook likes it, the power in Jimin’s voice that is so rare when they’re alone.. but more than present when he is working. It’s like he brought home his persona of professionalism, and now Jungkook would get to corrupt this mask as well.

“I’ll make my pretty doll into the filthiest and prettiest of whores. I’m sure of it.” He murmurs while he reaches behind him to slowly drag his fingers in and out of himself, gathering the remainder of Jimin’s release onto his digits. He spreads his lover's cheek to get a good look of his tight rim, pink and unused like a virgin anew. Kook licks his lip, feeling the hardened texture of the dried cut on the skin. He brings his slicked fingers to Jimin’s ass, giving him little to no warnings before slipping his two digits inside, knuckle deep. “I’m just giving it back. It came from your filthy, whorish body.. but you don’t mind. This is where cum really belongs.” He says, loving the sound of his own voice a bit too much. He loves the way Jimin’s hole clamps down on his fingers as he speaks, and the way his hole becomes wet and slick, coating his fingers more and more with his juices with every in and out drag. He curls the pads of his fingers slightly, finding that one spot that he knows drives Jimin mad— especially if the abuser of it is his hefty cock.

"Mm--g-god. Please, yes." The model looks over his shoulder to provoke Jungkook to give him more. This is just the way it needs to be to provoke--to find that spot again, plumping up his full lips with a whiny pout. "Put my cum where it belongs, please, baby." Jimin presses his hips back to match the thrusts, wrenching his eyes shut to chase the high, feeling even hotter knowing the reason his tender hole is stretched so easily is because of his own cum. He rides Jungkook's fingers, nipping his lip and beckoning him closer with small kisses, placed anywhere he can reach. Through it all, he makes sure his back remains arched so his glistening pink entrance is visible. He knows how his partner salivates at the clear sight of his fingers disappearing and reappearing, hugged by his tightening rim, hearing how needy his butterfly is for his touch. "Finger out every bit and put it inside." The messy tear-streaked blonde spreads his legs wider on the chair, leaving as much room as possible for Jungkook to fit. "T-then fuck me full of more."

"I would've asked you to beg for it, but you're already so good at that.. You really are perfect." Jungkook makes his point with a particularly deep thrust with his double digits, twisting and scissoring to ensure that his lover is comfortably gonna be able to take something much bigger than his mere fingers. "Looks like your cum is the perfect lubricant, just feel how easily I got your pretty ass gaping for cock." Jungkook groans audibly to show how much he likes the view when he withdraws his slick fingers, wiping them clean on Jimin's clothed thigh, staining it with cum. "Can't wait for you to see it how I see it. It's so hot, so cute." He adds, spreading Jimin's cheeks with his thumbs before tugging at his hips, bringing him closer to let his heavy cock rest between, gathering the slick. He slowly drags his length up and down, prodding tastefully at Jimin's eager entrance before finally giving in, sinking the swollen head of his cock inside, followed with a quiet gasp from the photographer.

"Shit, even after all of this, you're still so tight..." Jungkook digs his nails into Jimin's hips, grabbing a fistful of the thong into his hands to tug him down to take more of his length inside, pushing past the thickest part of his girth. He watches the way the elder's pink rim is stretched past it's limit and then some, the sweet pink slowly morphing into a blushed red. "Your body drives me mad, baby. Almost lookin' like a woman with these on." He crumples the material in his hand, tightening the fabrics so that it presses against Jimin's spent cock. He gives an experimental thrust forward, and decides to give little time to adjust before he begins to roll his hips forward, slowly but steadily. He will break his butterfly, and making him cum a second time would be the perfect reward.

Pressure builds rapidly in Jimin's abdomen, causing his muscles to twitch and spasm. His walls clench down on Jungkook as he presses in deep, practically forcing his way in, claiming the space he's worked hard to make. Jimin can still feel the phantom stretch of the photographer's fingers as it's quickly replaced with thick, vascular cock. It's almost painful, which is a new sensation for the willing blonde. He's always made sure to breathe through it all, relax his body and mentally prepare for how rough Jungkook may or may not like it at that moment. It's a roll of the dice, and today, anything is possible.

The tight weave of red lace chafes against the model's fair skin as Jungkook thrusts pick up in pace, threatening to tear if tested enough. As much as Jimin loves the feeling of being as pretty as a girl, he doesn't blink an eye when the remaining heel falls to the floor. "S-slower...just...y-yeah, that's--" Jimin's words break into confused pleas, easing into the scene, calming his body enough to receive his partner, inch by inch. "You feel bigger today, Kookie," he gasps, rubbing his cheek into the upholstery of the chair's back and sullying it with his salty tears. He chokes on a quiet sob and presses his hips back to meet a new thrust, "I almost can't t-take it."

"Fuuuuck, say that again." Jungkook growls through his lustful, breathy words. He snaps his hips forward, rougher and buries his cock deeply to be as close as physically possible to his pretty lover. The photographer adores Jimin's choked words, and rarely does anything beat when he cries in pain due to the mere size of his thick length claiming it's space in the model's slick flesh. "Does it hurt?" He says with a noticeable grin that transfers to the tone of his voice. He grinds his hips forward while staying inside, ensuring the jeweled head of his cock is lodged deep inside, throbbing in excitement every time he feels Jimin clench around him with every audible sob. He drags out the moment, using the blonde to warm his cock properly, still grinding deeply inside. His hands greedily roam up and down Jimin's slender back, tracing his fingers on one of his favorite hidden features of his model-- the prominent, yet delicate line where his spine lies beneath his fair skin, moving prettily with every writhing movement of his torso.

"You know how much I love it when you endure pain for me.." He sighs, smoothing his tattooed hands down his lover's thin waist until they settle on his lower back, pushing down to force a stronger arch. "Feel that baby?" Jungkook licks his lips at the sight, intentionally flexing his cock inside to make a point of how impossibly hard he is, rocking his hips back and forth lightly to create the start of a momentum. "I said," He drags his length out further with every stroke, only to plunge it back in harder and harder, "Do you," And harder, "Feel that?"

"Yes...yes, fuck!" Jimin's cries are cut short by the heady penetration. The jolts burn his cheek against the chair, but not enough to distract from the sting of his abused hole.

Sounds of slapping skin rings in the model's ears--the force of Jungkook's pelvis colliding with his plump ass, deafening. "You--You're so big, I--" Jimin presses his ass back into the next deliberate thrust and swallows a yelp, morphing it into a sharp whine. He's incredibly tender from cumming already, full to burst once again. Only this time, there's more pressure built inside, like every ounce of fluid he could possibly possess is begging to be let free. "You'll make me cum too sooon." Jimin wriggles and writhes, but only for a bit, internally reminding himself to be good. Be a good boy for his Kookie. Stay still. Keep calm. Hands lay flat on the blonde's back, littered with faint marks of possession from months before. They scarred as a reminder, marking Jimin, helping him realize his one true place in life is right where he is in this moment--beneath Jeon Jungkook, moaning, whimpering, begging for pain and receiving adoring love and devotion in return. "More," he echos, softly at first, "Harder, fuck me h-harder..."

"You're whining so prettily, baby." Jungkook praises, getting a proper grip of the model's hips to use the strength in his arms to aid the pathetic attempts of Jimin trying to meet his thrusts. The harsh slapping of their skin coming together grows louder when he picks up the pace, indulging hungrily in the elder's hot, tight, insides over and over with his cock. He wishes so badly that he could stay like this forever and repeatedly claim Jimin's body and make him lose his mind. "Asking for more, when your frail body shakes so... Fuck, it only makes me want to hurt you more." He groans when a particularly rough thrust causes Jimin to clench down, his petite body jolting and his muscles quivering while struggling to stay in position-- trying his absolute best to be good. Jungkook's hunger for more grows, and with it, he fucks Jimin harder, digging his fingers into his slim hips to keep him in place, pulling him back on his cock when he's momentarily jolting forward with every forceful thrust. "Remember what I told you earlier? How I want you to scream so loud you cannot make a sound..." The photographer glances over at the camera, knowing it gets a full proper view of Jimin's face pressing against the chair while he can't see it as well from his perspective. He wonders what kind of expressions he's making right now..

He knows he'll be able to rewatch the content later, but he wants to see more..

Jungkook leans forward a bit, still fucking Jimin, heavy audible breaths of his hard labor pushing past his lips while he reaches around Jimin's small torso, lifting him on his knees. He hugs him close, pressing his muscular chest against Jimin's smaller frame, stomach perfectly melting together with the slender slope of Jimin's back. "Maybe I do prefer it if you scream loudly, though..." He buries his nose in Jimin's neck, kissing and biting his tender skin, one hand on his waist and the other smoothing up his stomach until he settles on his chest. The calloused pads of his fingers finds Jimin's nipple, reddened and sensitive due to the previous friction from the lace, making it real easy for him to find the reactions he's looking for when he pinches it hard between his fingers. His hips never cease to fuck generously, adamant to overwhelm every sense in the elder's pretty body.

With each filthy remark from Jungkook, Jimin yelps pleas of encouragement. The rough pinch simply drags it out of him, quick and loud. "M-more...harder! ...just like tha-aaat, shit..." He doesn't need guidance to say what comes next, meaning it with every short breath in his body-- "I'm a failure," he squeaks, "Cumming inside you so quickly, it's just--ahh!" You just f-felt so tight...and it's been so long, I..." Jimin grasps the hand that balances his flat chest and draws it up to grip tight around his neck, helping to push him over the edge--so close, it's almost alarming. Jimin squeaks, "...I'm gonna cum again. Fuck, I might...I don't know...I..." He loses his train of thought, not that there was much of one to begin with. Sobbing of praise and self depreciation are all his muddled mind can compute when he's fucked this well--now adjusted to his lover's large swollen length. "You fuck me too good...much better than I fucked you, I'm so s-sorr--mmmf--AH!"

Jungkook's pierced tip glides against his prostate, rubbing him raw, making his eyes flutter and skin tingle with the peak of his high. This is new. It's not normal. The gradual sensation he longs to feel is much more urgent, nearly bulging his abdomen to let free. "Wait, wait!" His small hand taps on Jungkook's arm to release him, struggling to pull away. His muscles spasm in a quick alert, and he knows all too well what's about to come next. "It's too much, I'll--" Before Jimin can finish his sentence, hot spurts of urine stream down his thighs and soak the chair he straddles. The second it starts to trickle out of his exhausted body, he can't stop it. Thrust after punishing thrust, spurts are fucked out of his shaking form until he's putty in the younger man's arms, quivering out what must be a form of orgasm. His cock pulses as his prostate continues to be abused, and all he can do is cry and whimper from embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry--hic. Kookie, I couldn't s-stop--hic"

"Are you embarrassed?" He smiles, "Can't even hold it in when getting fucked." Jungkook peeks over Jimin's shoulder to watch his smaller lover's body quiver and squirm, unable to hold in anything when the younger fucks it out of him without mercy. "Always love to make a mess, do you? Then acts so innocent.." He teases, hugging Jimin closer while he squeezes the blonde's throat tighter, leaning his delicate back against his muscular chest to allow Jimin to feel some leverage. He slows down the grinding of his hips when he's fucked out every single drop possible from the model's cock, just pathetically red and throbbing.

"I still didn't cum..." Jungkook sighs, stopping his movements. He keeps himself buried deep, the grip on Jimin's throat moving to his chin to guide their lips to meet in a messy, drooly kiss. He delicately pulls back to crook an eyebrow, internally beaming with pride at how utterly fucked out Jimin looks. "Move onto your back, lay in your own filth." He suddenly commands, letting go of the elder's weak body to let it fall limp onto the chair, letting his length slip out of his stretched gape. Impatient, he's already aiding him when he notices the light struggle and quivering muscles from oversensitivity-- grabbing his hips to help him to flip on his back.

"Humph." Jimin's hiccups weaken once he's on his back, sinking into the tepid pool of urine that seeps out of the cushion. He stares up at the younger man with saucer eyes--adoring stars swirling in his gaze, slowly coming down from his orgasm. The apples of his cheeks blush an endearing shade of pink, even more as the moisture spreads across his back. It's an ever-present reminder of the mess he made, all over Jungkook's studio chair--the one he sits on to do his work, and the one he reclines in to watch Jimin pose during their private shoots.

"It's wet," the model whines, wriggling to find a comfortable spot on the chair. His nose crinkles at the audible squish the fabric makes when he adjusts his posture, saturated in him, possibly ruined and unusable. His blush dissipates just a bit, because this is the state Jungkook longed to see him in. Perhaps the visual of an alluring male model in feminine lingerie was what intrigued the talented photographer. But, just like the mirrored room, everything must come crashing down until only he can build it back up in just the way he likes.

Jimin loops his arms under his knees and exposes his tender hole to his partner, offering himself as a toy to be played with. "Do you like this, Kookie?" He pulls back a bit more, earning a wet squish from the cushion below. "Seeing your butterfly, like this..."

“Good boy." Jungkook praises, nodding in approval while a long, slow swipe of his tongue coats his lips in the glossy shine of his spit. His predatory stare darkens at the mess he's created-- the vision he's been craving finally coming to life. "I love it, you're perfect." The aching, swell sensation of blood pumping through his body is prominent in his cock as he gives himself a few tempting strokes, placing one knee on the edge of the wet cushion and the other keeping leverage on the floor while caging Jimin's body beneath him. He lines up the thick, jeweled head of his cock with the model's gaping entrance with one hand, placing his other palm on Jimin's thigh to dig his fingers into the soft flesh, aiding him in holding his legs back.

"You've done so well tonight, baby.. There's no better look for you than this.. My spoiled, expensive doll.." Jungkook's dark eyes squint as he smiles softly, a contrast compared to the way he drives his hips forward to bury his cock deep once more, welcomed by the stretched, slick flesh that hugs him tightly in the form of muscle clenches. Even when spent, Jimin does what he can to please. "My messy whore." He quickly builds up the momentum, using the full potential of every silky inch of his rigid length as he drags it in and out, harder and harder, until Jimin's petite body once more begins to jolt upwards with each and every powerful thrust. "S-shit, I love your body, I can't get enough of you like this." Jungkook spits out between grunts, thriving in the wet sounds of his cock plunging into the model, along with the squishes of his small body forcibly rubbing against the wet chair.

The photographer grits his teeth, chest heaving with every shallow breath and muscles flexing to fuck into him harder, harder to release every bit of primal desire to use Jimin to chase his impending high. "G-gonna cum soon," Jungkook's hazy eyes never waver from Jimin's face, watching it distort into his favorite expressions, a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Want me to cover your pretty face with it?"

Jimin doesn't have the power to speak, lost in the trance of Jungkook's cock railing into him at a powerful rate. His aching ring of nerves pulsates with sensitivity, so sore and spent that any words spilling from his rouge bitten lips would be desperate pleas to slow down. Positively not an option. It's their anniversary. Today is a special day--the most monumental day in Jimin's life to date, above any major career move or step in the spotlight. A year ago he may have placed himself before the pleasurable and painful touch of the photographer's hands on his flesh, but that part of himself has been far from erased. Now, in this studio, in their little private world, Jimin naturally folds at the simplest suggestion from the young visionary.

"Cum on my face, baby," he whimpers, holding his knees to his chest for stability. He nods rapidly to confirm, it's exactly what he wants. "Paint your whore--fuck. Cover me in you, I n-need it...all over my skin. Record it, up close. Please, pleasee." His voice squeaks, caught off guard by how badly he truly wants this. More than anything, he knows how beautiful the final scene will look--him, covered in tacky red sinful lace, sticking to his small body with cum, sweat, and spit. Smeared with lipstick. Prettied up and ruined for one man only.

Jimin knows exactly what the photographer wants to hear, and it's obvious by the way Jungkook's eyebrows furrow in concentration, gaze burning into the vision beneath him.

"I love it when you beg like that." Jungkook praises yet again, giving the model another punishing thrust before pulling out, leaving the gaping, needy hole empty for tonight. Normally, he would never pass on an opportunity to stuff Jimin full of his cum-- but tonight, his vision took the top priority over any carnal instincts. He had this vision in mind for forever, and it is finally becoming his reality.

"Look at me." Jungkook commands while taking a step back, tugging at Jimin's bicep to pull his spent body to slide down to the floor on his knees in front of him. He hooks the pad of his finger underneath the blonde's chin, tilting his head back to look up. His other hand works his slick length quickly and roughly, ready to burst at any given moment-- he's held it so well, and he knows he will cover his doll's perfect face with everything he's got. It'll be the ultimate visual of his fantasies; Jimin, the picture perfect man in shambles, ruined makeup and covered in various body fluids willingly, merely to serve and keep the photographer satisfied and happy. Maybe even excited for the rewards that come with compliance. "Pretty... So pretty, and all mine, hahh.." Jungkook hisses through labored breaths, clammy chest heaving as he looks down at Jimin's lips, rubbing the jeweled tip of his cock against them, stroking his cock purposefully to make a show out of the way his tattooed hand effortlessly glides thanks to every little ounce of slick fluids his lover provided. "Keep looking at m-me...fuck, I'm gonna--gah, cum." He moans louder to let Jimin know how much he's enjoying this, and the visual from both their perspectives must be otherworldly. Both men are utterly devoted and obsessed with the other.

Just as Jungkook's hip move to fuck into his hand, they stutter when his orgasm hurls over the edge without much of a warning. A drawn out, deep groan rumbles from the back of his throat, and it feels like his eyes would roll to the back of his head if he didn't intentionally keep himself so focused on watching the way thick, hot ropes of cum began to paint the model's delicate features one by one. His hand squeezes his cock, thighs tensing and relaxing between every twitching throb of his orgasm. He spits curses and praise, moans and whines, not stopping until he's made sure Jimin's skin is an entire mess, glazed with his release.

Silken droplets of pearly cum slip down Jimin's cheek and tickle the pert pout of his lips. Slowly, he licks away what he can, peeking open an eye and giving a longing look of devotion. The salty release tingles on the tip of his tongue, which he savors with a low hum. He doesn't need to ask to know how much the photographer enjoys this sight. He knows that from this angle, he's a masterpiece, commemorating a year of servitude in the most filthy way imaginable. The low glow of the recording camera reminds him of his duty, to show off his final look--a far departure from the stunning, sinful vision he admired in the mirror. Heels are scattered on the floor, stained with a light streak of blood. Stockings are torn ragged, and bralette is askew and hanging loose. With no way of truly knowing, Jimin assumes he must look a complete and utter wreck. Still, remnants of lipstick stain him in misplaced splotches, smearing down his lips and onto his chin. The ruddy makeup appears to be even brighter and remarkable under the luminous sheen of cum that slips off his chiseled jaw. Jimin lifts to his knees and palms at Jungkook's thighs to draw him closer. "Come here."

Jungkook mindlessly follows Jimin's quiet order, stepping closer before dropping to his knees in front of him, meeting his hazy eyes on face level. He can't do anything but admire his work as if in a blurry trance, and the boiling adoration in his gaze is evident.

"I'm here, baby." He says quietly, glancing over at the camera. He had gotten his shot, the visuals of everything he'd been hungering for now captured in an eternal digital memory. A sense of pride and content fills his chest as he looks back at Jimin, reaching out to swipe his thumbs underneath his makeup smeared eyes. He takes another longing moment to just look, slowly inching closer until he finds the model's pillowy lips with his own. He kisses him gently once, twice before pulling back.

"You did amazing. I got the perfect shot, and you looked so gorgeous." He rubs Jimin's bruised neck slowly, examining the purple and red marks, "Did you enjoy it a lot? I had this planned for a while.. And it came out even better than I anticipated.."

The blonde closes the distance again to kiss Jungkook tenderly. A shaky hand cups the photographer's face while the other mindlessly holds him at the waist for balance. The room shifts subtly, and Jimin breathes into the motion, tilting his head to follow the natural part of their mouths moving as one.

"Mhm," he hums again, indulging in the comfort and warmth of Jungkook's touch. He needs it after, always, to feel like a precious doll again. Like clockwork, they come together into a slow comedown, feeling their united heartbeat as the tips of their fingers brush against damp skin. "Happy anniversary," Jimin smiles into a sweet and short kiss. The tentative hold on his neck draws the model in more and he allows the younger man to indulge in his creation. He allows it until the warm ropes of cum begin to tack to the round apples of his cheeks, and the slight discomfort of his muscles begin to set in.

"So sticky and wet now, Kookie. Just how you like," Jimin smirks, pleased he could once again fulfill his love's vision. "I may need some help getting out of this though." Jimin hints at the soaked, ruined lingerie that still clings to his torso.

"I'm so happy. Thank you for taking me so well, baby." Jungkook places one last rewarding kiss on Jimin's sticky cheek before he gets up on his feet, bringing his lover up with him to lift him up into his strong arms. He holds him close, walking over to the camera to turn the recording off and heads towards the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed, I have another surprise for you." He smiles through his statement, placing Jimin on the toilet seat to wait while he draws a hot bath. He turns to Jimin, reaching behind his torso to unclasp the bralette and discard it on the floor, then resumes to tug at the panties to get them off. Every action of his is tender now, the aftercare more than important to ensure that Jimin is properly rewarded for doing so well and taking every rougher part of him-- so he deserves the affection as well. "Come." He coaxes lowly, undressing properly as well until the tub is filled, and takes Jimin's hand in his to guide him into the water, seating them with Jimin's small frame practically in his lap. A soft sigh pushes past his lips from the relaxing warmth surrounding them. "Wash your face off first, don't want your eyes to get irritated."

Jimin cups the warm bathwater in his hands and stares at the faint shadow of his face cast over it. He pauses a moment, adjusting to the comfort of being supported from behind--feeling small and cared for, then brings the water up to cleanse. The warmth soothes over his soft skin, and after only one splash, he can feel the layers of grime shluff off. His palms tinge a faint red. Lipstick rubs away, followed by other various bodily fluids, some of which need a couple passes before it is completely removed. The work to remove it only makes Jimin appreciate the work Jungkook put into planning such an unexpected night.

"I never get tired of this," Jimin coos, bring another palmful of water up to wash over his face, "Taking baths together...it's one of my favorite things." Baths--such a normal and almost childlike experience. It's something that brings the small model pleasant ripples of nostalgia, like it was only yesterday they first shared the simple experience of cleaning one another. It's centering, to wash away the filth of the day and watch it slide down the drain until it's gone completely. Jimin reclines into the tender embrace of his love and allows him to rub soapy water over his body, moaning gently the cleaner he feels.

"One year," the blonde sighs, closing his eyes, "What would I have done if I never met you?" He tilts his neck to get a good look at the younger man. "Life would be so...boring."

"Indeed." Jungkook agrees, the toothy grin on his face just as childish and endearing as when they first met eye to eye in his studio. He looks back at Jimin with just as much-- if not more admiration swirling in his doe eyes. He cranes his neck to kiss the elder's forehead, gentle hands smoothing over his petite body to rub off tonight's events. "But it was fate." He adds, hands moving up to comb his fingers through the blonde curls after adding his familiar shampoo into his palms, massaging his tender scalp with the comfort of his scent.

"Sooner or later, we would've found each other." A moment of silence follows, all that is heard is Jungkook cleaning Jimin's hair while the latter basks in the aftercare.. until he speaks again. Whether Jimin heard it or not, remains a mystery.

"I would've made sure of it."

© sombreboy 2021. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[pillowbelphs]

Cuddling the Demons~

Let me know if you want the side characters!

feel free to request!

xoxo moon

Lucifer;

- will not ask to cuddle. Hell will freeze over before he fully sets his pride aside and admits that he misses your touch and wants to hold you

- if he really misses you, though, he will stop working early (and by early, I mean he won’t be working until 3 am) to come cuddle you

- most nights, you are already asleep by the time he finally crawls into bed

- you always try to stay up, but never manage to do so, and you may not see it, but he always smiles when he sees your sleeping form in his bed after he’s done working

- he’s so large, it’s comforting to you, and to him too; if you’re in his arms, he knows you’re ‪safe, and you know he’d protect you if anything happened

- likes it when you cuddle into his side, so he can leave soft kisses on your forehead while you sleep

- if he feels that your arms are cold, he’ll rub them softly

-  feels less scared to be vulnerable when you’re sleepy, so he often turns into a big mush, especially if he can tell you’re struggling to stay up

- will coo at you if you are

- “my dear, are you tired? you should rest then~”

- if you’re up, he likes to ask about your day during these cuddle sessions, as he’s busy throughout the day most days, so he likes to have this private time where he gets to hold you and hear about what happened that day

- if you say that you missed him, he’d probably squeeze you a bit closer to him

- he won’t say that he missed you too, but he would definitely do things to show it

- once he starts talking about his day, though, you’ll be out like a light

- his voice is just so calming

- yet again, you may not see it, but when he feels your breath becoming more steady, and you stop responding, he’ll smile to himself, leaving more kisses on your forehead and saying goodnight even though he knows you’re asleep

Mammon;

- very needy. it’s one of the most endearing things about him

- he always wants you to be in his arms, so cuddles aren’t just a bedtime thing

- if you’re in the common room, he’ll pull you into his side and cuddle you, even especially if the other boys are around

- if he wants to be more intimate while cuddling, he will throw you over his shoulder to take you to his room to have a bit of privacy

- he likes when he can see your face when you cuddle; he thinks you’re the prettiest thing to exist, so of course he wants to look at you and be able to touch your cheek and stuff like that

- will that stop him from blushing when you smile at him? of course not

- has a habit of tracing little shapes into your skin, especially if you tell him it’s comforting to you

- “oh, you like it when i do that? noted”

- likes to make you feel as comfortable as possible when you cuddle, so you never feel like you have to leave his arms

- the type to make you laugh while you cuddle because he loves seeing you happy

- if you have to get up, he will whine about it. he does not like it when you leave him! he wants to spend as much time with you as possible!

- “no, you can’t leave! i was just getting comfy! come back quick, okay?”

- gets all pouty, like a puppy. if you giggle at him, he’ll to be a little tsundere and grab a pillow or something

- “yeah, who needs you! i can fall asleep just fine with this pillow!”

- will get worried if you don’t come back within five minutes because in reality, he does need you to fall asleep even if he doesn’t want to admit it

- smiles when you come back and pulls you into him again

- “alright, that’s it! no more leaving for the rest of the night!”

Leviathan;

- gets really blushy when you ask him to cuddle

- his bathtub is a snug fit, but so is his lap when he plays video games, so he doesn’t mind either way

- if you ask while he’s at his desk, he’ll start stuttering, wondering why (no matter how long you have been dating)

- “y-you want to cuddle? do you mind if im playing?  no no, you’ll get too uncomfortable in the chair with me, i don’t want you to be uncomfortable”

- but looking at you will make his heart soften, so he’ll push his chair away from his desk to allow you to sit in his lap

- his heart would be racing for the first fifteen minutes, making it hard for him to concentrate on his game

- if he knows you can hear it, it makes him more nervous so lay your head on his chest often, it’s cute

-  will get distracted even more because he wants to look down at you

- because you, the most beautiful person in the world, wants to sit here with him and hold him while he plays video games? of course he wants to see you do it!

- will smile very softly at you before going back to his game he is literally whipped 

- whenever you decide to snuggle your face into his neck, he’ll pull out his earphone jack from his computer so the wire of his headphones isn’t in your way

- is the experience of the game a tad less immersive? maybe

- is his baby comfy? yes

- so it’s worth it to him

- once he’s finished with his game, will carry you into his bathtub

- again, a snug fit, but he doesn’t mind

- he just has to hold you super close, both arms are always around you in a really tight hug

- won’t admit it, but will not let you go even if you tried, he’s so attached to you that he just wants you in his arms always

Satan;

- his room is usually messy with books, so cuddling in the common room is a common occurrence between you two

- not that he minds. the common room is always warm and the couch is comfy

- usually starts off with your head in his lap while he’s reading a book or drinking tea

- unlike lucifer, satan will definitely admit that he wants to hold you or be touching you

- you’re like his personal teddy bear! he loves to hold you, it gives him comfort

- he likes to play with your hair as well, especially if he sees that you like it

- if you ask, he’ll read what he’s reading out loud to you, it will most likely make you fall asleep because he gets really into reading the story which is kind of sexy ngl

- he finds it really cute when you fall asleep on him, he’ll often stop reading to give you some quiet, but will continue petting your head until he’s done

- once he’s done reading, he’ll very gently lift up your head off of his lap and snuggle behind you

- i see satan as someone who really likes spooning you, being the big spoon in particular 

- he likes to feel like he’s protecting you, so he likes to have both of his arms wrapped fully around you

- the type to leave kisses on the nape of your neck or your shoulder in a very sweet way or another way.... ;)

- rubs your tummy if you’re comfortable with that type of thing

- will most likely end up falling asleep with you in his arms as well :3

Asmodeus;

- another boy who is not afraid to admit he wants to cuddle; in fact, he tells you very often that he wants to cuddle!

- “(y/n), can we please cuddle? i’m cold, I want to hold you”

- you always end up with your limbs all tangled

- he likes to be pet. he really, really likes to be pet

- he likes to be appreciated, but likes appreciating you as well!

- you want music on while you’re cuddling? boom, a cute cuddle playlist

- still cold? boom, he finds a nice fluffy blanket

- is always talking to you about his day when he cuddles, asking for your opinions on things

- really values this alone time with you. he doesn’t like sharing, so as much as he likes to cuddle everywhere all the time, he prefers to be alone with you in his room with nice candles lit

- often runs his hands along your back, and giggles if you jump at his touch

- “did i scare you? you’re so cute, you can come closer to me if you want”

- kisses you a lot when you cuddle; your lips are right there, and so are his, so he never misses an opportunity to give you a quick peck or two

-he likes making you feel flustered, which is very easy when you two are so close together, so he often does little things like pinching your butt, kissing the side of your mouth, saying really flirtatious things that make you blush, all so he could tease you about it later

- would give him a solid 9/10 on the cuddling

Beelzebub; 

- he is very blunt about wanting to hold you, even if the other boys are around

- “Can we go hang out in my room? I want to cuddle”

- If you’re busy, he’ll wait until you’re done. he may be impatient, but if he waits for you to finish it means that he gets more time with you! - prefers when you lay on top of him, rather than beside him; he doesn’t want to hurt you by falling asleep and perhaps rolling on top of you, so he likes having you secure and on top of his chest

-  like satan, he likes to play with your hair, especially if he knows it calms you

- often nuzzles his nose into your hair

- “did you change shampoo?”

- “yeah, how did you know?”

- “this one smells fruity.”

- loves to play guessing games on what scented shampoo/conditioner/body wash you used!

- if he needs to get up to grab a snack, he will literally take you with him

- and by take, i mean he’ll hold your legs around his waist and carry you around like a koala

- “......what’s going on” - a confused mammon

“ i’m getting some pudding” - beel, not realizing that seeing him walking around with you like you’re a baby in a baby carrier may look weird to others

- he doesn’t care though, because he’s the one you’re holding, so who is the real winner here? beel

Belphegor;

- another who won’t openly admit to wanting to cuddle, but will most definitely give you hints that he’s needy and wants your attention as soon as possible

- he’ll sigh, say he’s tired, maybe even pull on your sleeve, until you get the hint and follow him to the attic 

- he likes holding you like he holds his pillow, but i see him being the type to enjoy spooning too, especially if you’re the big spoon, although he’ll never admit it

- the type to slide his hands underneath your shirt (consensually) just to feel your soft skin

- a personal little heater, he is so warm

- another boy who really likes to be pet, in fact, it’ll put him to sleep in seconds

- holding you and being in your company in general is comforting enough to make him fall asleep fairly quickly, but when you pet him, he hums such a content sigh before passing out

- will most definitely not let you leave, even if he’s sleeping

- if he feels you get up, he’ll pull on you and hold you even tighter, not letting you get up no matter what the circumstances

- “that’s what you get for trying to leave me, now let’s go back to sleep”

- likes discussing his dreams with you when you both wake up from your naps, especially if they include you

- he knows you like to know that he thinks of you, even in his dreams, so he’ll make sure to tell you those dreams so he can see you smile

- if you’re spooning him, he kisses your hands often, he really likes to hold them and play with your fingers

- if you’re facing each other, he’ll give you really soft kisses on your eyelids when they’re closed, regardless if you’re asleep or not

- a total tsundere, so if you’re awake and you open your eyes when he does this, he’ll roll his eyes

- “you had something on them”

[goldafterglow]

Head canon: MAKING JACK BLUSH. I NEED TO SEE IT. 🥺

Summary: Jack Daniels is a pretty cowboy.

Paring: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x reader

Word Count: 1.3k+

Warnings: soft!Jack, no sins but they are for sure basking in the post-sin afterglow, a lil bit of blushing for our baby boy, this is not beta read bc i’m impatient

Author’s Note: YESDJHGJFD I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF THIS. This is also my first little like drabble, except it’s too long but ig 1.3k is a drabble for me kids this is the standard.

It’s early in the morning. 1:43 am to be exact. But you can’t bring yourself to end the night; he always make it so hard to sleep. In a good way of course; a really good way.

It’s in the afterglow that his feelings begin to melt, glaciers in his mind turning to liquid as the golden amber spills gently from his lips and over your chest so that it will encapsulate you, dry around you and encase you, keeping his words wrapped around your body forever. Embroidered into the soft chenille of your neck and whispered into the lobes of your ears. He speaks to you in a way that you can feel; it’s a pleasure of its own to feel his lips kiss the dips of your clavicles through his words, his voice low and sending wide vibrations through your sternum. It feels sinful, heavenly, like something too good to be right.

It feels nice.

You’re laid by him on your side, face buried into his bare chest as his thick fingers run along the curve of your spine, re-exploring you with a sense of focused clarity that he doesn’t often get when he’s overwhelmed with lust and passion. His fingers are careful, sensitive, picking up on every bump and blemish until he can paint the perfect picture of you under his closed eyelids, even as the meek moonlight bathes your waist and glimmers against the sheets. Perfect.

He’s resolved to a comfortable state of wordlessness, eyes trained on the top of your head as you bask. There truly is something golden about the afterglow he casts onto you; you always seem to feel like you’re floating, like not even gravity could keep you from ascending to the clouds with him. He makes you feel precious.

With an inhale of his musk, you slowly nudge your chin so that you can look up at him, fingers tracing his jaw. You love to let him shower you in his affection like a delicate hummingbird is kissed by tiny drops of rain, but you rarely take the time to take him in. The bump of his nose is highlighted by the window’s rays, his lips still a little blushed and swollen from the night. The side of your palm runs up along the side of his face before finding his hair; it’s been mussed, disheveled by your greedy fingers. Gorgeous.

“What’s going on in that big beautiful mind of yours, angel?” Jack ponders, prodding you tenderly with his words. He can tell when you’re lost in thought, lost in him. Perhaps he can’t tell when you have no desire to be found, when you want to be left to traverse the tall grass of his forest and hug the applewood in his eyes. What a way to go.

“Nothing, Jack,” you assure. It’s a weak excuse, an almost embarrassing attempt at deflecting his question, but maybe it’s because you want him to ask you again, dig a little deeper into you so he can make a home inside you. Never leave.

“Now, darlin’,” he starts, feigning a little sternness in his tone, “I think you know good and well that ol’ Jack can tell when you’re fibbin’. Ain’t no use lyin’ to me, honey. I’ll catch ya every time.” Your heart swells swells a little at his words, because he’s so honest with you. You know he knows you, sometimes better than you know yourself. He’s made you his hobby, learning you like a subject and studying you like a book. He can always read you.

And yeah; he always catches you.

You take a few diamond-adorned seconds to look at him; his mustache rests right on top of his soft smile, there to accent his words and tickle your neck when he’s feeling playful. His eyes are wide like when a two-month old baby can finally look at its mother in awe, utterly mystified and doe-y. His face is sculpted by the gods, chiseled to magnificence in his charcoal features, and yet he uses it to show you he loves you. He loves you.

“You’re so pretty, Jack,” you whisper. The words barely leave your lips as a noise, traveling to his ears as wisps of the breeze you blow onto him.

Jack Daniels is floored.

It’s not a word he’d ever use to describe himself. Cocky, sure. Sexy, absolutely. Brash, confident, competent; he wasn’t too shy to toot his own horn every once in a while. But pretty? Flowers are pretty; butterflies are pretty. When the sleepy sun yawns and breathes a peach glow onto the front-porch flower bed, that’s pretty. When you step outside to dip yourself in the golden afterglow and he walks out into the backyard to find you sitting on the quaint bench he built just for you. When he drags himself into the kitchen in the morning to find you already there, frying up bacon on his stove in nothing but his unbuttoned flannel and last night’s bra; that is fucking pretty.

But Jack Daniels -- is he pretty? He looks down at you carefully. He can tell when you’re fibbin’, after all. 

You don’t look like a dishonest woman to him.

“You’ve already got me in bed with you,” he teases, trying to deflect. He can’t handle the weight of your words, isn’t strong enough to hide what they do to him, and he needs you to take them back before he bursts into a supernova of rouge love. “You don’t need to-”

“I mean it, baby,” you interrupt, tone serious. You can tell he doesn’t want to believe you, doesn’t want to grapple with the intensity of your thoughts. But he needs to know, he has to trust you’re not deceiving him. “You’re beautiful.”

His smirk is gone, his smug, self-assured grin nowhere to be seen. The room is dark; he knows that. But the moonlight hits him just right, at just the right angle that you can see that sweet strawberry syrup tint his cheeks, giving him up. You can’t help but smile a little, like you’ve done something good. He’s good.

Jack’s breathing is a little jagged, his heartbeats a little stuttered. What was it he’d done to deserve you again? Oh right; nothing.

Your hand leaves his hand to cup his red cheek, thumb running right under his big eyes. He leans into it, face turning a little to nuzzle your palm, and the notion makes you giggle. A fierce lion reduced to a whimsical lamb, so gentle under your touch. He is vulnerable when he is with you, especially in these shared moments of solitude, and you wonder if you could look at him like this forever.

Blushing.

“C’mere, pretty boy,” you tease, but you mean it. You mean every word.

You nudge him towards you, his face finding solace in your chest. He shifts down a little, his soft body wrapping around your middle. He can hide in you, feel pretty in your arms. He’s safe in you.

“You think I’m pretty, sugar?” he asks softly. Almost a little timid. He’s embarrassed to need validation like this, ashamed that he’s practically begging you to say those words again, but you make him feel so warm, so secure, and he knows that the last person to leave him for a lapse in strength is you.

You press a kiss to the top of his scalp, his wild hair tickling your nose but you don’t care; you want him close. Closer.

“I know it,” you whisper, throat closing on itself a little because you’re so grateful that you finally get to tell him. That Jack can finally begin to grasp just how much he means to you. There’s so much more you want to say, but you don’t want to overwhelm him with it because you know he loves you with a fury and passion that drowns him without you piling on your love too.

And as Jack closes his eyes, finally ready to let the night end, he thinks he might know it too.

Tags (ik this is a drabble but idk lmao):  @gustavos @catfishingmorales @keeper0fthestars @1zashreena1 @blancatobarxoxo @honeyedspace @chaotic-noceur @opheliaelysia @adikaofmandalore @din-damn-djarin @mrsparknuts @girlwithanewplan @mrschiltoncat @buckstaposition @the-feckless-wonder @ergotautology (girl you know what to do) 

also im gonna never tag anyone in my headcanons again bc that was embarrassing yikes gjfhdjgd

[fatgummybear]

Hii idk if you’ve watched your name and listened to nandemonaiya but could I get j a really soft bakugou x reader where it’s like they’re in a moment that’s super loving on the rooftop and yea just listening to that song makes me feel that way :)) thank youuu

Nandemonaiya- A Bakugou x reader drabble/fic

im so sorry this is so late, i feel like i’ve had a million and one things to do and life got on top of me for a minute there! I’m still yet to watch Your Name, though i did listen to the song and wOW IM SOFT T-T it reminded me of watching a sunrise being all cozy in the fresh air with pretty flowers and im going to shut up and actually write this now:D It’s a bit dingy and dark at the beginning i do apologise, but the fluff comes in>.< 

wordcount: 1253

genderneutral language for reader and quirk unspecified:)! Oh- warning for language, we are talking about Bakugou here!          (◠﹏◠✿)

Everyone has a different definition of perfect, some may not even believe in perfection, but this morning could change the mind of the non-believer. Soft sighs, white breaths and warm bodies sat under a periwinkle sky and cotton candy clouds. It was an early summer morning, around 5:30am. That doesn’t explain how you got here though, so let me start from the beginning.

Training had been rough, though there had yet to be a major incident in your second year. That didn’t change the fact that you were exhausted. Everyone was. Self defense and emergency procedure training had been increased tenfold since the many events of year 1. The physical and mental stress of lessons on top of homework and never ending nightmares had... less than pleasant side effects, insomnia being one of them. Nights where you couldn’t get to sleep became more frequent, nights where you could actually sleep were short lived; ended with you waking up in the very first hours of the morning, even beating the early bird by a good couple of hours. Tonight had been one of those nights, sleep disturbed by your own restless thoughts, tossing and turning to the point where the four surrounding walls seemed to mock you and your effort to sleep. The rain that had been pouring overhead steadily came to a halt. Turning once more to face your nightstand, you checked the clock. 3:48am. Exhaling something between a sigh and an annoyed huff, you threw the sheets to the foot of the bed and sat upright, trailing your hands down your face and neck in a new quest to at least feel more awake if you couldn’t shut your eyes.

A shower was out of the question at this time of day, you at least knew that. While the chances of others being awake too were unfortunately high, there was no sense to be made in ruining someone else’s sleep to benefit yourself for a measly half hour. The sink would have to make do. Dragging yourself out of bed and down the hall you quickly reached the bathroom and threw water over your eyes, somehow colder than usual from not being in use and the night air’s influence over the pipes. Standing in front of the mirror, now somewhat more alert, you assessed your current situation and what you could do to pass some time. It was now 4:02, a dark Saturday morning which was arguably better than a weekday. There were no commitments today, no classes, no homework that couldn’t be done tomorrow, no rules saying you couldn’t nap through the afternoon when you finally tire yourself out. However, there wasn’t much to do inside at this time of day, and you weren’t about to knock on doors to see how many were suffering the same fate as you. It wasn’t all bad, though. Your boyfriend, Bakugou would be up within the next hour or two to go on his morning run through campus, always claiming how it would make him better than “shitty Deku” if he got out earlier than him. 

While walking back to your room, you decided to instead take the ‘secret passageway’ up onto the roof of the dorms that you and the ‘Bakusquad’ had stumbled across one night. It was really just a service entrance, holding a small cleaners room next to the stairs, but no one else had braved opening the unknown door, so why ruin the magic for you and your friends, that was where you all frequently hung out when the weather allowed it, sharing silly stories filled with laughter and plotting your next mischievous pranks. The rain was long gone you realised after opening the door, though the scent still lingered and the silence almost created a gentle hum in your ears, coaxing you to walk out further and sit on the still damp concrete. The time was now unknown, having left your phone in your room and the obvious lack of clocks occupying the rooftop. It couldn’t be too far off sunrise, though, as the sky had started to change colour from a blinding darkness into the soft pinks and yellows that came with dawn.

The next hour or so went by fairly quietly, the sounds of the surrounding wildlife adding to the peace. It was still relatively early for people to be up and about, especially for a Saturday morning. You were expecting to hear the teachers get up soon though, to conduct their daily patrols around campus and make sure their home class are all present and okay. However, what you weren’t expecting was to hear the gentle click of a door beneath you opening and the soft tapping of shoes on the concrete stairs. Startled, you turned, expecting a lecture off of Aizawa-sensei or a cleaner for lurking where you shouldn’t be, and at such an early hour too. Braving yourself to look up, you found yourself looking into familiar crimson eyes instead.

“Tch, figures you’d be up here at a time like this”.

You could only stare up at him, shocked at the amount of time that had clearly passed. Katsuki was up and ready for the day. He still had messy hair, but he was in a loose pair of sweats and a fitted shirt, clearly ready to go for his routine jog. 

“You just gonna sit and stare? Get your loopy ass in before you catch a cold, or has sitting on the wet floor for god knows how long already got to you?”

“Nah, ‘m comfy”

This sent Katsuki into some state of confusion, staring at you as if you had grown a second head. How on earth could you be comfy on the wet floor at this time in only a pair of pyjamas? Wordlessly, he sunk down to a crouch before looking you in the eyes, rolling his and plopping down next to you. 

“If I get sick it’s on you, now get comfier. I’m not sparring you on Monday if your stupid ass can’t get enough sleep to even talk properly”. 

You smiled while tucking your head into his clavicle, knowing he was just trying to keep up his bad-boy image. Yes, he was a lot softer around you, being able to rest yourself on him like this was enough to show that, but Bakugou was Bakugou and he would always have some roughness to him. You knew it was highly unlikely for him to actually get sick just from sitting on the damp concrete, his body temperature ran way too high for that. 

This is how the two of you stayed for the next half hour or so, curled together on the rooftop hiding from the world, silently watching the sky turn from light pink to a pale yellow before erupting in fiery oranges and then watching an ocean of tranquil blues dull the embers as the sun rose higher. You were expecting to get tired at some point, possibly going to rest in Katsuki’s bed when he decided to actually go for his run, though you felt the ropes of sleep pull your eyelids shut right there on top of the roof of the 1A dorms. Katsuki looked down and couldn’t manage to stop himself from smiling at you dozing off under his chin. 

A soft “I love you, firecracker” rumbled from his throat. “Hm, what was that?” you replied in a sleepy haze, eyes glossed over as you snuggled further into his chest.

“Don’t worry about it”

[babyflossy]

exposed | p.js

pairing: jisung x reader

requested: i’m working on loads of request atm but when i saw this i had to write it straight away lmao

summary: when dispatch reveals your secret realtionship with jisung to the public, the fans aren’t the only ones surprised.

warnings/genre: unedited, kinda just self-indulgent fluff, lots of words, not much happens

word count: 1.7k

a hand on your shoulder breaks you from your slumber, words already being spoken at you. in your sleepy haze, they floated straight through your head, mind still groggy from being woken up so suddenly. as soon as you recognise the voice as your manager’s,  your eyes snap open, meeting equally wide ones over the head of your manager. haemee, your leader, shoots you an apologetic look, something unsettling for so early in the morning.

“what happened?” the words are quiet and tired and your manager sighs in pity, handing over their phone. your eyes squint in response to the brightness, stomach dropping when your eyes finally focus on the news article.

BREAKING; DISPATCH REVEALS UQS’ Y/N AND NCT’S JISUNG ARE DATING.

the title is accompanied by three photos; one of you at a fansign, smiling at a fan, one of jisung waving at a camera in the airport, and then a blurring photo of two figures walking hand in hand through a park at night. the park you and jisung had visited two weeks ago. 

“there’s a meeting at the company. can you get ready quickly, please?” despite the ‘scandal’ and the stress your manager was most likely under, she shoots you a comforting smile and ruffles your hair before leaving, phone already ringing. 

as soon as you and haemee are left alone you reach for your phone, feeling the bed dip as she sits beside you. she rests a hand on your shoulder, rubbing her fingers down your back soothingly. your lockscreen in full of text messages. you thumb through them, seeing many from jisung, along with the other nct members you were close with. you ignored them all, only searching for the ones from your boyfriend.

jisungie <3: have you seen it yet?

jisungie <3: call me when you see this

jisungie <3: are you okay?

jisungie <3: i know you didn’t want ppl to find out like this

jisungie <3: let me know you’re okay plzzz x

“it’s gonna be fine, you know?” haemee’s hands abandon your shoulder and take your phone out of your grasp, tipping your chin so she can look at you. there’s still a smile on her face and you’re reminded of why she’s the group’s leader instead of anyone else; always able to keep things calm. “think about all the other idols that have dated. i bet the fans were expecting this, anyway.”

that was probably correct, you knew. ever since you and jisung had starred on a dancing show in america together, your social medias were full of edits of the two of you, compilations of your interactions from the vlogs you had filmed. as jisung wasn’t fluent in english you had translated for him and done the speaking whenever you ordered food, giving the fans loads of things to include in their edits.

the show had been fun and you had kept in close contact with jisung after it ended, eventually deciding to start dating after months of pining over each other. since then, only haemee, taeyong and the company knew, although you expected chenle knew as well due to the teasing you got whenever you met jisung outside of your training hours. 

when haemee left you to get ready you took your phone back, unlocking it and calling jisung as you flicked through your wardrobe, trying to find your hoodie. the call connected after the first ring, jisung’s voice echoing over the line and into your bedroom.

“are you okay?” although there was high chance you were about to be scolded for days, the worry in jisung made your heart beat just a little faster, a reluctant smile taking over your face. 

“i’m fine. what about you?” spotting the lilac hoodie at the end of your closet, you pulled your sleep shirt, jisung’s shirt, over your head, replacing it with the warm softness of the purple material. you followed it with a pair of jeans, slipping a face mask on after realising there would probably be reporters outside the SM building already.

“yeah, i’m fine now. i freaked out at first, though,” he chuckled, shouts coming through from his end. “jaemin came in screaming about how he was so betrayed i didn’t tell him, i had no idea what he was talking about.”

“what’d you think is gonna happen?”

there was a pause before he spoke and you had time to grab your bag, throwing in your headphones and a spare mask along with a pair of sunglasses incase. “i’m not sure, taeyong said he’s hopeful, though. so it might not be that bad. it’s not like the company’s finding out about it, though, so it might just be press and stuff.”

“yeah, i hope so. i’ll see you in fifteen minutes i guess,” before you left the safety of your bedroom, you reached for the bucket hat hanging from the corner of your chair, pulling it over your face to hide your eyes. you looked ridiculous, like you were planning to rob a bank, but you guessed it was better than the alternative; hundreds of photos released of your sleep-deprived, drooping eyes.

no one else in the dorm is awake and you’re able to slip out the front door before haemee catched you again, taking a deep breath before heading outside to the car waiting. as it’s just you and your manager, you’re able to sit in the front seat, something you would normally be ecstatic about but due to circumstance it feels lonely and cold. not a word is spoken until the car reaches the entrance to the SM building, throngs of people with cameras waiting outside the front door.

“we’ll go in the back entrance.” you manager says with a frown, eyeing the reporters with concern. “god, it’s impossible to get any privacy nowadays.”

after security escorts you through the back door, pushing reporters out the way when they got too close, you can finally breath properly. for the most part you ignored their questions, signing the first song that comes to mind in your head to distract yourself. ironically, it’s chewing gum, and you realise with resentment it’s going to be stuck in your head throughout the meeting.

upstairs, taeyong and jisung sit on the opposite side of a glass table, two seats left open for you and your manager. their manager stands and motions for him and your manager to talk privately outside, leaving you with the two boys. you take off your hat as you sit down, pulling you mask down so you can talk properly. jisung’s tired eyes crinkle with a smile when you do, a smile you return eagerly.

for a moment you see taeyong think over what to say in his head, trying to find the right words for the situation. eventually, he settles on what your own leader had already told you. “i’m sure this will be fine,” and as if he realises how cliche his words are, he adds “in the end.”

“in the end? what’s that supposed to mean?” jisung tears his eyes away from you to look at the older boy.

“well, i mean, it’s gonna be a big deal at the start,” he states matter of factly, eyes switching between the two of you. the voice he uses is just as level and calm as the one haemee uses whenever she’s trying to sort something out, it must be a universal thing. “the press and the fans will go crazy for a bit, let alone everyone you didn’t tell.”

the reminder makes you dread going back home, knowing the rest of your members will blow this way out of proportion. you were the youngest, and they always managed to be overdramatic whenever it came to you ‘growing up’ as they had put it so many times. none of them knew you were dating jisung, and you could already picture the gloomy pouts you would get for the next few weeks.

after your managers returned, a few more staff entered, filling the last few seats and closing the door, successfully locking you in. they talked for what felt like hours, only occasionally asking you or jisung a question. they decided the easiest thing would be to just come out and admit it, allowing you and jisung a moment to disagree. you locked eyes for a moment, having a silent conversation between yourselves. you raised you eyebrows in question, taking the minuscule nod he sent your way to be the go-ahead.

“i don’t see why not,” you answered for the both of you, smiling at your manager who nodded in agreement back at you.

you don’t get a chance to say goodbye to jisung properly before you leave the building, the staff ushering you in opposite directions to get your schedules for the day started. in the car on the way back to the dorms you send him a text promising to facetime when you both have time, mentally preparing yourself for the confrontation from your members.

“you’re dating jisung?” is the first thing you hear when the front door opens, closely followed by “why didn’t you tell us?” which is swiftly followed by “i can’t believe you’re the first one to date anyone, it’s not fair.”

“that’s mean.” you smile back at the oldest, laughing at the disbelieving smiles covering their faces. “why are you guys so surprised? you didn’t think i could do it?”

“whatever, but, why didn’t you tell us?”

“in my defense, the company told us not to tell anyone.”

for the next few days, your group’s twitter was hectic. you trended on twitter for nearly a solid day, photos and edits and memes of you and jisung together filling your timeline. there were the negative comments, obviously, from jealous fans of both fandoms, some even claiming you should both be removed from your respective groups. they were easy to ignore when the positive comments and the text messages from your boyfriend outweighed them astronomically.

jisungie <3: as much as i hate to say it.. taeyong was right x

a/n: if you got this far im acc proud of you lmao i rlly dont like this but it's been a kinda mentally exhausting day for me so im gonna post anyway and edit tomorrow x

[bungou-stray-dingus]

I love the one you write about Dazai having a new infant. Could you do the same with Fyodor(・∀・)

a/n : Fyodor is both a baby and an asshole and I love him wholeheartedly. He deserves to be happy too. Thank you for the request!

Fyodor Dostoevsky

You were the purest thing in existence according to Fyodor. He loved you, that much was clear even without him verbally saying so. You didn't have an ability, and you always took care of him  whenever he came home both physically, mentally and emotionally. He worked himself too hard, and it worried you deeply considering his anemia. You'd check in on him constantly to make sure that he was getting enough sleep, that he was eating and he was drinking enough water. Whenever he came home you made sure to give him enough love and affection to make up for the time he missed when he was away.

He was just waking up, always the early riser and he gently kissed your temple before scooting out of the bed, making sure not to wake you in the process. He loved the way your hair would curtain your face, your lips slightly parted as you slept peacefully. He always thought you looked beautiful, but there was something so mesmerizing to him about the way you looked when you slept, he couldn't explain it. You rolled over, your hand absentmindedly reaching out to his side of his bed, feeling around for him, a small pout forming on your face as your eyes slowly fluttered open. "Good morning, dearest." His voice was still coated with sleepiness, and mixed with his accent it was beyond sexy.

You rolled over and looked at the clock on the nightstand, it was only five in the morning, the sun hadn't even risen over the city yet. "You're leaving already?" He nodded to you as he began dressing himself, his fingers carefully buttoning his shirt as his eyes stayed focused on you. "Hmph... well, I'll make you some breakfast before you go." You moved to get out of bed and he shook his head, softly pushing you back down on the pillow, pressing his lips to your temple.

"Get back to sleep. I'll grab something before I go. I promise." He wrapped his pinky around yours, something that you had begun doing with him whenever you promised something. It showed that you were serious about it, you never break a pinky promise, and he took it just as serious as you did. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips as he brushed your hair out of your face.

"When will you be back?" You asked, reaching up to brush your fingers against his face, his skin was always so cold, but you had long since gotten used to the temperature difference between the two of you. He shrugged after pressing one last kiss to your lips and then pushing himself up off the bed. "What do you mean..." You mimicked his shrug as you propped yourself up on the bed, your eyes following him around the room as he grabbed his cloak, ushanka, and boots.

He hesitated next to the door, you heard his sigh before he turned to look back at you. "I don't know, but I'll keep in touch, and I'll try to be back as soon as possible. Now go back to bed." He walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. You grabbed one of his pillows and held it over your face as you fell back onto your own pillows and started crying. You hated when he left, you never knew if he would come back, and that terrified you.

One Month Later

Fyodor hadn't returned home yet, but he wasn't the only thing that hadn't come to you as you thought it would. You sat on the edge of your bed, a bed that seemed ridiculously large whenever he wasn't there with you, and you swiped through the calendar on your phone. "One week, two weeks, three weeks, four weeks... five weeks... six weeks... seven...?" You counted the weeks over and over again, just to make sure you weren't miscounting. "Shit." You groaned, getting up off the bed and grabbing your shoes out of the closet. He hated when you left the house without him, he always made sure the house was properly stocked before he left so you would be able to avoid leaving at all, unless it was necessary. This seemed pretty damn necessary though, and the store was only a block away.

You walked in and made your way to the aisle with the tests, grabbing four boxes, just to be sure. It didn't hurt to be 200% sure, you know, just in case the first test was a fluke or something. You weren't really sure what you would do if they came back positive, and you definitely weren't ready for Fyodor's reaction if they were positive either. He didn't seem like the type of man that would want a child, especially not right now considering the mission he was on. He was barely ever home, the kid would barely ever see his or her own father.

When you got back to the house you ran to the bathroom, sitting on the lid of the toilet and reading the directions of the tests. Sure, they were pretty simple, but you just wanted to be sure that you took them correctly so there weren't any false results. You were stressed, and you cursed Fyodor for not being there with you right now when you needed him the most. You would feel a lot better if he was there to comfort you in the moment, to make you feel like it wouldn't be as bad if those tests came back positive, but no, his work came first.

The tests sat on the back of the toilet, your phone was in your hand, the timer set for five minutes as you paced the length of your bedroom. You picked up on the habit of biting the tip of your thumb from Fyodor, and you were biting it so hard that it had started to bleed. "Dammit..." you sighed, walking into the bathroom to grab a band-aid for your freshly self inflicted wound. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the tests on the back of the toilet, and you immediately forgot about your bleeding thumb, your eyes scanning over all four tests that had a combined total of eight pink lines. "Oh... shit...." You mumbled, your heart was racing and your vision became cloudy as tears began to build on your lower lashes.

You had to call him, you had to let him know, but you didn't even know if it was safe for you to do so at the moment. He hadn't texted or called since last night, and you were sure that he was out somewhere, if you called him it could draw attention and he could get hurt. So you had to wait, you had to wait for him. You were left alone with your thoughts for God knows how long, and your anxiety would only build more and more until that moment comes.

By the time he called five hours later, it was nine o'clock at night and you were sitting on the couch curled up in one of his cloaks, angrily eating a tub of ice cream while crying about the movie on the television screen. You hadn't realized how quick the hormone charged emotions would kick in, but they were evident now. You had never cried at a movie before, and here you were ugly crying into your Rocky Road while still internally fuming at your fiance who was no where around when you needed him most.

You grabbed your phone and answered it quickly, holding it up to your ear. "'Bout time you called." You said snidely, but the sound of your sniffles was what got his attention.

"You're crying. Are you alright, my love? Is there something wrong?" He chided, hoping to pull an answer out of you, and you let out a dry, humorless chuckle.

"Is there something wrong? Well I sure as hell think there is! You're never around when I need you, and I'm stuck going through shit all by myself and there's tears in my ice cream and you're not fucking home!" You shouted at him through the phone, your voice cracking whenever you reached octaves that you were unaware you could go to.

"Hmmm, my love is upset. What can I do to possibly make her feel better?" His voice was soft and velvety through the phone and as much as it used to comfort you before, it was only upsetting you more now.

"You could come home so I can talk to you in person."

"You know I can't do-"

"Fyodor, I'm pregnant." You said, closing your eyes, bracing for his reaction. He was quiet, and you wished that you could see his face right now, but all you got was silence. It was deafening, and his silence was much more scary right now. You wanted him to say something, you needed to know that he was still there.

"Are you sure?" He asked after what seemed like an eternity of silence, and you sighed, letting your head fall back against the cushion of the couch. Of course he would ask that, he wasn't here to see the four tests that all showed positives, he wasn't here for anything.

"Yes. I'm sure." Your anger hit you again. This wasn't a conversation you should be having over the damn phone. This should be an exciting time for you and your fiance, but instead, due to his constant absence, you were scared, and you were alone. "But you know what, I'll handle it myself, just like I handle everything else. Hope your mission goes well. I'm going to bed." You hung up the phone and placed it on the coffee table. You shrugged out of Fyodor's cloak and turned off the television, grabbing the empty jug of ice cream off the table and tossing it into the trash as you made your way to your bedroom.

You shut the door and locked it behind you before undressing and changing into your pajamas, climbing into your bed and pulling the comforters up to your chin. You finally fell asleep as the tears formed puddles in the divots of the pillow.

The sound of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen startled you awake, the smell of pancakes, bacon, and eggs filled your nostrils, the sun was shining brightly into your room, you saw dust particles floating around in the large beam of light. You stretched as you got out of bed, sliding the slippers onto your feet and wrapping your robe tightly around your body before you left the room to inspect what was going on.

When you opened the door, the first thing you saw were the rose petals that created a trail down the hallway. You hummed to yourself as you followed the trail around the corner to the kitchen, and you could have sworn that your heart grew three sizes at the image. A bouquet of white roses, lavender, and purple hydrangeas. They stood in a beautiful crystal vase, and sitting in front of the vase was a large white teddy bear with two smaller teddy bears, pink and blue, on each side.

"What are you doing home so soon?" You asked as you leaned in and smelt one of the roses. He turned to face you, a small smile on his face as he took you in. Whenever he came home, it was like falling in love with you all over again. He could never get over how absolutely gorgeous you were. He placed the spatula on the counter as he made his way over to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close against his chest.

"I know I'm gone a lot, I apologize for my absence. I wasn't here when I should have been, but I'm here now."

                                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fyodor was never one to express his emotions well, but your pregnancy had changed him, and he began trying. He wanted to be there for everything, every moment of your pregnancy he wanted to experience it with you. Not only was it exciting for him, but he also found it fascinating. He still went out for his missions, but he was never gone quite as long as he used to be. The longest he was ever gone since your pregnancy became known was two weeks, and even then he called every hour, on the hour to check in on you.

When he was home, he was actually quite over bearing. You never complained though, it was nice having him around so much. Every step you took, he was right behind you. He didn't want you to lift a finger. He learned how to cook so you wouldn't have to, he even did the laundry, although you had to help him at first so he wouldn't destroy any of your clothes. He was very invested in your pregnancy, learning everything he needed to know so that he was prepared for everything and anything.

Your morning sickness came later in your pregnancy, and it was a scheduled occurrence, one that he knew very well. Whenever the time came he was already helping you off the couch to get you to the bathroom, holding your hair behind your back as he rubbed soothing circles into your back. He had a cup of water and mouthwash prepared on the counter for afterwards, and he'd help you back to the couch after you were done. He'd bring you a couple saltine crackers to fill your stomach and another glass of water and he'd sit next to you on the couch, holding his hand against your forehead, helping to cool you down after you worked up a sweat from your retching.

He came to every doctors appointment, although he had to wear a disguise due to being one of the most wanted terrorists in Yokohama, it made you happy that he was there. If one your appointments fell on a day that he was out for one of his missions, he would be found waiting outside the doctors office for you to show up. He wouldn't miss a doctors appointment for anything, he would be caught dead before that ever happened.

When he found out you were having twins he became extremely over protective of you and your stomach. He always had a hand on your growing abdomen, tracing your stretch marks with his icy fingers. Whenever you felt self conscious about them, he would place kisses across your stomach and remind you how beautiful it was that you were growing and glowing with two of his children.

Whenever he did have to leave for missions he brought the ultrasound pictures with him, he would look at the pictures and they were a constant reminder to him that the world needed to be ridden of its sin before they came. He needed to cleanse the world so his children could grow up in a society free of sin.

During one of your doctors appointments at six months the doctor told you that you had high blood pressure and needed to be on bed rest for the safety of the babies and yourself. Fyodor enforced that rule, and he stopped going on missions completely. He had his "rats" do his work for him, and they would report to him at the end of the day. He refused to leave your side. When you had to use the bathroom, he would help you onto the toilet and then stand in the doorway with his back turned until you were done, and then he'd help you up. It was embarrassing at first, but you ended up getting used to it, and you knew that he was only doing it because he worried so much. He helped you bathe, sitting on the edge of the bathtub to wash your hair and your body, always murmuring to himself how beautiful you looked. He would only leave the room to cook your meals, and then he would bring those meals to you in bed and feed them to you.

Since you couldn't do shopping at the store, he would lay with you in bed, his laptop on his lap as he scrolled through websites, ordering everything that your eyes lingered on for longer than two seconds. Your front door was filled constantly with packages because according to him, money wasn't a problem if he was spending it on you and the babies. Their bassinets were both a pristine white and they were set up in the corner of your bedroom. He said nurseries were useless until they were about a year and half, that they needed to be with their parents until then because there's a lot of complications that could occur with a child that young while they were sleeping and it would be safer for them to be as close as possible if anything were to happen. You did not argue, there was no point in arguing with that logic.

When he found out that the children were a girl and a boy he was overjoyed. He got both a son and a daughter in one try, it was truly a blessing to him. He started making a list of potential baby names and you both stayed up late at night looking through the names until you both agreed on two.

Elizaveta for your daughter and Iosif for your son. Picking their names made it more real for him, it was more concrete now. He would often lay his head against your stomach, cooing in Russian to the children. They would usually kick when he did this, and whenever they did he would quickly look up to you and ask if you were okay, and then lay his head back down and talk again in his mother tongue, probably scolding them for kicking you.

You had no doubts about him as a father, he truly loved his children. Before you had gotten pregnant he had rarely ever said the L- word, but now, every night, he would press a kiss to your lips, and then lean down to kiss your stomach twice, once at the top, and the last kiss at the bottom. He would whisper that he loved them both and then tell them not to move too much so you could sleep. Then he would move back up and place one more kiss to your cheek before whispering that he loved you.

                                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The snow coated the ground, building up against the windowsills. It was a blizzard, and it was beautiful. Fyodor had helped you move into the living room, lighting the fireplace and handing you a cup of hot chocolate as you both watched the snow fall. His legs were stretched along the couch as he leaned against the arm, you were laying against his chest between his legs. His finger traced hearts over your stomach and you both sipped on you drinks enjoying the view. "It's beautiful, I wish the children were here to see it." Fyodor murmured before taking another sip.

Just then you felt a sharp pain in your stomach, you shot up straight and he quickly grabbed your cup out of your hand and placed it on the coffee table. His brow furrowed and his forehead creased with worry lines. "They... they might be... fuck..." You squeezed your eyes shut and gripped onto the couch cushion as you tried to breathe your way through the pain. You felt the wetness build between your legs and you turned to look back at Fyodor. He nodded and helped guide you up off the couch.

He grabbed your coat and helped you put it on and button it up, then he draped a large wool blanket over your shoulders as he led you to the door, grabbing his keys on the way over. "Fyo, there's a blizzard, you can't drive in this."

"My dearest darling, I'm Russian." Was his only explanation, and you rolled your eyes. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist as he helped you walk down the front stairs. The snow was deep and the wind was strong, it felt like it was lashing against your face. You shivered as it hit you, and he held you closer, helping you walk through the snow to the car.

It must have just been a coincidence that he had just traded in his small sedan for a larger SUV with four wheel drive only the week before. Surely if he still had the smaller car you would have been delivering these babies at home. Your luggage was already packed and stored in the back of the truck, the carseats were hooked up in the second row as well. He was more prepared for this than you were.

He slipped off his cloak and placed it over your lap and as soon as he started up the car he blasted the heat. The contractions came steadily and you felt the pressure building, you were panting heavily as you held onto the handle above the door. He drove slowly through the snow, trying to get there as quick and as safely as he could. "You're doing great, dear. Keep breathing." He said softly, his hand on your thigh squeezing it gently to try to calm you down.

"How much longer... Fuck! Please go faster." You pleaded with him as the next round of contractions came on. You clenched your teeth and you whimpered as the tears threatened to fall. You had never been in so much pain, it felt like every single bone in your body was being broken, it was torture.

You were checked into the hospital and wheeled to your room. Fyodor watched as the doctors worked over you, checking how dilated you were, hooking you up to heart monitors and other machines that you didn't quite understand. You got hooked up to an IV that would help ease the pain of the contractions, but nothing seemed to help as much as you hoped it would.

Fyodor stood by your bed and held your hand as you labored through every contraction. You had been clenching your teeth so hard that they actually hurt, your head was throbbing and you felt nauseous. The doctors had come in and told you and Fyodor that you would need to have a C-Section which was something that you didn't really want, but opted to do just so you knew both of the babies would come out safely. You had done enough research to figure out that even if one was delivered naturally, the other would most likely come out through a C-Section anyway.  

He was quickly suited up, and if you weren't in so much pain you would have giggled at how he looked in the blue scrubs, they definitely did not accent his beautiful dark purple eyes. The doctors began wheeling you down the hall and he walked quickly next to you, refusing to let go of your hand for one second.

You had been given sedatives through the IV and you were numb, it felt strange because you could still feel a dull pull whenever you had a contraction. There was a blue curtain blocking the view of your stomach, so you found comfort in looking up at Fyodor, staring into his eyes as he looked down at you. You could tell that he was smiling, even behind the mask, as the corner of his eyes would crease slightly.

He would occasionally glance around the curtain and hum as his interest was peaked, watching as the doctors carefully sliced through the skin and muscles of your abdomen. You could still feel it slightly, the sensation of the tugging and pulling, but it never actually hurt. His hands were on your shoulders, and although you couldn't actually feel the circles he was rubbing into your skin with his thumbs, there was comfort in knowing that he was touching you, that he was there with you.

The birth itself took not much longer than thirty minutes, and by that time you felt like you were going to pass out, so you weren't sure how much longer it took for the doctors to stitch you back up, and none of that really mattered anyway. When you forced your eyes open, the only thing you were looking for was your babies.

Elizaveta Fyodova Dostoevsky, born January 15 at 5:28PM, 5lbs 8ounces.

Iosif Fyodovich Dostoevsky, born January 15 at 5:30PM, 5lbs 2ounces.

They both had jet black hair which contrasted against their skin perfectly. They were tiny, but they were healthy, and they were beautiful. It was love at first sight as soon as you laid your eyes on them. Seeing Fyodor hold both of your children in his arms though, that hit different. You never thought you could love the man more than you did in that moment, but there was something about seeing him in that arm chair, smiling down at both of his children, the look in his eyes spoke volumes. He absolutely adored his children, that much was obvious.

When you were finally discharged from the hospital, he took extra care of you, making sure that you didn't push yourself too hard. He was worried about your incision, and he knew that you would have trouble walking for the next couple weeks. He made sure that you took your medication at the right time every single day, he continued to help you shower even though you told him that you didn't need help anymore, he insisted.

He took stayed home with you, refusing to go on missions until you were fully healed, and if any of the "rats" complained about his lack of focus on the mission he would write their names down to "handle them" later.

Fyodor was strict about scheduling their feeding times and nap times so they wouldn't affect when they went to bed. He was honestly such a devoted father to Iosif and Elizaveta, it was almost shocking to you. You hadn't known before the children came that he could sing, but you learned one night that he had the most beautiful singing voice you had ever heard. He would stand over their bassinets and gently brush his thumb across their heads as he lulled them back to sleep, singing in a hushed tone a gentle Russian lullaby.

He ended up teaching you Russian, you had asked him after you heard him crooning to them while he fed them their bottles. The children seemed to find the language relaxing, and they would often fall asleep listening to their father talk. He wanted his children to know their heritage, to know where there father came from.

Fyodor wasn't one to spoil his children either. When he finally went back to "work" about two months after their birth, he would stay away for only three days, maybe five tops. Whenever he would return, he would bring back something small, something that reminded him of you, Iosif, and Elizaveta. The items didn't cost much, sometimes they cost nothing at all. One time he returned with a small rock, a leaf, and a bird feather. The rock was shiny and a dark grey color with purple streaks going through it, it had reminded him of the beauty of Elizaveta's eyes. The leaf was small, but it was a bright green, it reminded him of Iosif, who was the smallest at birth, but was intelligent and bright already at only two months old, already attempting to hold his own bottles. The feather was pure white, and it reminded him of you. You were still, and always will be the purest thing in his life, the most amazing and beautiful woman he had ever met. You made him feel like the luckiest man on earth, he was so happy, so over joyed with you and the small family that he had, it felt like he was flying.

If someone had asked you in the beginning of your relationship if you thought Fyodor Dostoevsky would ever want to have children, you would have scoffed and said no. Fyodor was a man who, at the time, didn't seem like he would ever be capable of being a father. That hadn't bothered you, because you loved him enough to want to be with him no matter what. Now, here the two of you laid, both of your children between you on the bed, and you couldn't imagine him not being a father to your children. He was the most amazing father you could have ever wanted your children to have.

He pressed quick kisses to the tops of the children's heads before smiling up at you, brushing his fingers along your cheek. "YA lyublyu tebya, moya dorogaya."

a/n : Thank you for reading! I got really really really into it, and I love my baby Fyodor so fricking much. He deserves so much love. Also daddy!Fyodor is a whole ass mood, love me a big Rat Daddy. Okay but seriously, I love him so much. He's just *chefs kith* Also, what he says at the end is "I love you, my dear" because Russian is hot and him speaking Russian would just *kaboom*

[lunatens]

since we’re alone

word count: 1.7k

genre: angst + fluff

pairing: hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader

requested by...too many people to count ksjdfbskg 

a/n: im so sorry this took so long, i think like 10+ people asked for me to write a sequel (which is kind of a lot considering tmta has like..less than 100 notes lmao) but i really struggled to find the motivation til now ;-; i really hope you guys like the direction i decided to take this!! also yes i did name this series after niall horan songs what about it

*this is a sequel to “too much to ask” so if you haven’t read that, you probably should read it first!*

-

confusion hits you as the rosy glow of the morning sun lands on your face. why the hell is it so bright? you groan as you pry open your sleepy eyes only to see the sunrise blazing through the large windows of your living room, and the memories of last night’s events come back to you. your head hurts a bit; probably a mixture of the morning light, the alcohol you had last night, and then crying yourself to sleep. 

you rub the sleep from your eyes, surprised to see a blanket you don’t remember using falling to the floor as you stretch. you reach for your phone on the coffee table to check the time—too early to be awake, dammit—only to notice a glass of water right there. yeah, that definitely wasn’t there when you fell asleep. picking it up, the cool condensation leaves your fingers wet to the touch, and the icy water feels nice on your throat. 

your eyes begin to water as more and more of what happened last night comes back you—in particular the words you said to him in your drunken state. a tsunami of guilt washes over you, mixed with lingering waves of anger and hurt. taking another sip of the water, you try to calm down and think about things. maybe it’s best to talk to hyunjin about this and tell him everything that’s on your mind now that you’re sober. yeah, that’ll work. 

you groggily stand up from the couch, pulling the blanket over your shoulders like a cape and letting it drag along the floor as you tentatively walk to the bedroom. the door swings open with a quiet creak, and you bite your lip nervously. 

“hyunjin?” you call into the darkness, voice loud enough to wake him but gentle enough not to startle him. you’re met with silence, and you frown as your eyes adjust a bit to the darkness only to see an empty bed in front of you, cotton sheets carelessly thrown aside. your heart sinks deep into your chest, the small rays of hope and forgiveness quickly fading. gone to practice again, you’re not even sure if he’ll be back until later and even then he might not return at all, considering what you said to him last night. your heart feels like it’s been torn in two; you were ready to talk things out with hyunjin and work towards a solution, already ready to forgive him, so seeing him leave just like any other day sends daggers through your heart. 

“he could’ve at least made the bed,” you grumble to yourself, haphazardly throwing the sheets and pillow back to where they belong. as you do so, you can’t help but wonder if maybe it really is for the best if you just end things with him. sure, there are lots of great moments with hyunjin and you have so many special memories together, not to mention the fact that you’re completely head over heels in love with him, but as high as the highs in your relationship feel, the lows are just as extreme, if not even more so. you check your phone again, the lack of any sort of message from hyunjin helping you make up your mind; when he hopefully comes home tonight, you’ll break things off with him.

you shuffle back out to the living room, now brightly lit by the fully-risen morning sun. flopping down on the couch, you grab the remote so you can look for something mindless to watch; maybe it’ll help take your mind off of the impending doom that ticks ever closer to you, since you’re too antsy to go back to sleep. you’re about to turn the tv on when a loud thump at the door startles you into dropping the remote. you turn to look at the door, peerings over the couch wide-eyed as you hear keys fumbling in the lock before the handle clicks and the door swings open. when hyunjin’s tall frame quietly enters the room, you think your heart must’ve stopped beating for a moment. your emotions are in turmoil as a million questions and thoughts race through your mind; what’s he doing back so early? do i still break up with him? where did he go if not practice and schedules? and what’s in that box??

hyunjin gently places a white box on the nearest surface before putting his jacket and mask away. you don’t think he’s noticed you’re awake yet, as he seems to be trying his best to be silent. you almost giggle at the thought, but then you remember you’re mad at him and you just continue curiously watching his actions. he finally turns to peek over at the couch, expecting to see your still sleeping form, so when his eyes meet yours he’s a bit taken aback. 

“oh, um, goodmorning y/n,” he greets, a little bit awkward. you can tell he’s having trouble reading your emotions and he’s trying to tread carefully, so you remain quiet to see what he’s up to. he picks up the box in both hands and walks over to you, placing the box on the table beside your empty water glass and sitting down beside you. you turn to look at him, expression neutral as he furrows his eyebrows and takes your hands in his. 

“y/n, i am so, so sorry for what happened yesterday. i-i know that doesn’t cut it, but i can’t even describe to you how sorry i am. i love you so so much, and i really don’t want to lose you. i understand if you don’t feel the same and you’d rather just en-end it, but i want to do whatever it takes to keep you in my life.”

you didn’t even notice you were crying until his thumb is swiping away a tear on your cheek. he leaves his hand up against your face, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. 

“you’ve been so supportive of me following my dreams and being an idol, and i’ve been awful at showing you how much you mean to me. so i’m taking today off, i’ve told chan what happened and he said he’ll cover for me, so now i can be here with you. is...is that okay?” hyunjin asks, eyes searching yours to try and read what your tears mean--are you sad? do you hate him forever? 

all you can think to do right now is lean forward to capture his lips in a deep kiss. as soon as your lips touch you can feel the relief wash through both yourself and him. he pulls you closer and wraps his arms tight around you as if he’s never letting go. you pull apart with a soft giggle, wiping your tears away and gently smiling.

“i love you too, jinnie. we can make this work, just please-please don’t make promises you can’t keep ever again, ok?” you ask as you squeeze him in a tight hug, breathing in the welcoming scent of his sweater. he kisses your forehead and lightly caresses your tear-stained cheek.

“deal,” he says, and the two of you just lie there in each other’s arms in silence, your arms wrapped tightly around hyunjin’s torso and his fingers tracing circles on your back. you’re overwhelmed with emotions right now, and you hardly know what to think, but you’re relieved to have hyunjin back in your arms. suddenly, you remember you still don’t know where he went this morning.

“what’s in the box?” you ask as you pull away to examine it, reaching out to touch the white cardboard.

“ah, i mean it’s nothing really, i mean it’s a day late anyways and it’s so early i could hardly find anywhere that was open, let alone actually had something decent,” hyunjin rambles as you open the lid to see a small cake inside with “happy birthday y/n! sorry i ruined your birthday” written in purple icing. the sight makes your heart swell with happiness and you can’t hold back the smile in your face. 

“you got up this early just to get me a cake?” you ask in excitement; if this is hyunjin’s way of making things up to you, it’s definitely working. 

“not just a cake,” he says nervously as he pulls a smaller white box out of his pocket and hands it to you. opening it, you see a delicate silver chain necklace with a tiny locket on it. inside the locket is a super dumb picture of you and hyunjin from back when your first started dating, and the word “stay” is engraved on the back. you blink furiously, trying and failing to rid yourself of the tears filling your eyes.

“i was gonna give this to you yesterday, but i felt like it might not have been the bets time...and i know it’s kind of cheesy, but i wanted you to always have something to remember me by when i’m away. i got one for myself too so you’ll be with me too, i’m gonna try to even sneak it with me on stage so you’ll always be by my side,” he says, cheeks flushed with embarrassment but that just makes the moment even sweeter. 

“i love it so much, hyunjin, thank you,” is all you can say in fear you’ll burst into tears if you speak any more words. you lean in to press another kiss to his soft lips, this time lingering so you can savour this moment. hyunjin helps you put the locket around your neck, and you do the same for him, smiling shyly at each other.

“so what do you say we dig into this cake and get the day started?” hyunjin asks.

“but it’s so early to eat cake!” you respond, to which hyunjin shrugs his shoulders. 

“who cares, we have the whole day to spend together and we can do whatever the hell we want,” he says with a smile, and you couldn't be happier to have hyunjin in your life.

[dripkingpetey]

love-e.pettersson

ive been working on this for a few days and im kinda proud of it! would love some feedback from you or requests for other story lines, i promise i’ll stop doing the friends to lovers storylines haha. i also accidentally deleted this and i was so sacred i couldnt get it back but here it is! i hope you enjoy.

*lowercase intended!*

2.2k words

he loves you, you know that right?

“why did you drag me here, i really don’t like hockey and you know that.” you said as you sighed to your bestfriend lucie while she pulls you down to your seats in rogers arena. 

“i know you don’t.” lucie said with a bright smile on her face. “but, you’re gonna learn to like it.” you look at her in confusion. “so, this is your way of torturing me as if you don’t already torture me enough by bringing me to parties.” you said while sitting down and looking at the players who are starting to get on the ice. “maybe.” lucie said with a wide grin and a mischievous look on her face before puck drop starts.

you’ve never been big on hockey, which is surprising considering you have lived in vancouver your whole life and your family is super big hockey fans. you also aren't the most extroverted person. sure, you’d go out to bars sometimes but mostly just with your close friends.

“what part of this sport do you even like?” you said as the game is going into the third period the canucks are now up 4-1 against the opposing team which you don’t even really know who they are. “well, if I’m being honest some of them are really hot but mostly cause of the sport.” you scoffed at her response. “none of them are hot from where i can see.” lucie looked at you with a shocked look. “oh you’ll get it once you get to know the players more.” you give her a confused look and put your full attention back to the game.

-

canucks ended up winning the game 5-2, lucie was very happy about it and you could tell cause she wanted to go out for a couple drinks and you didn’t want to say no so you agreed to go.

you had been at the bar for about twenty minutes and lucie was already gone which isn’t surprising, she was probably sleeping with some guy right now.

you started to panic a little when a creepy old dude came up to you and started hitting on you. “hey pretty girl, want to come home with me?” he started putting his hand on your arm which was resting on the table. you look around for lucie in panic but she’s no where to be found. 

you then feel a pair of arms sneak around your waist and you get even more freaked out. 

“hey babe, sorry i was gone for so long.” elias says to you with a smile but then proceeds to give the creepy dude the alien death stare which worked. after the dude leaves elias faces you and starts speaking. “sorry i touched you like that, it looked like you were alone and that guy was creeping you out so i thought you could use some help.” he shoots an apologetic smile at you. 

“its okay,” you give him a smile back. “thank you a lot actually, i have no idea where my friend went.” you take another look around the bar before looking back and him. 

“i’m elias by the way.” he smiles at you while holding his hand out for you to shake it. “y/n.” you say before shaking his hand. 

“so elias, what are you doing in this bar on a thursday night?” you gesture for him to sit down next to you. “if i told you, you wouldn’t believe me.” elias lets out a soft laugh while sitting down across from you. “tell me, i wanna know.” elias sighs lightly before he starts speaking again. “i’m with them,” he gestures over to brock, jake, quinn, thatcher and troy. you look over to see them all waving at you and laughing at elias, you laugh softly and wave back at the before turning your attention back to elias. “ah, so i’m guessing you’re on the canucks?”

elias lets out a nervous laugh. “yeah, why don’t we go somewhere else where the boys aren’t up my ass?” you take another sip out of your drink. “i would love to.” he holds out his hand for you and as you guys walk out you can hear the guys chirping, but when you look over to elias you can see him giving the death stare to the boys and it makes you laugh. “you have a scary death stare jeez.” elias leads you to his car. “that’s surprisingly what the fans love me for.” he smiles at you before opening the car 

door for you.

-

“…and that’s all what led me to being on the canucks.” elias said to you while eating a chip out of the chip bowl you had prepared. it had been a couple hours since you guys left the bar and went back to your apartment, you don’t know why but it felt like you and elias had such a strong bond already that you both felt like you can talk for hours and hours and never get tired of each other, he felt the same way too. “jeez, i kinda sound like a douche. i’ve been talking about myself all night, please tell me more about you.” elias said to you while you laughed at his words. 

“it’s all good, i’ve been the one asking questions anyways.” you smiled while responding to him. “no seriously, tell me something about you before i have to go which i really don’t want to by the way.” 

you look at the time and realize its almost twelve am so you proceed to give him a quick response. “well, i’ve lived in vancouver my whole life. and i’m currently going to ubc as a nursing student.” you smiled at his now very amused face. 

“see, that’s something i wouldn’t have known if you didn’t say it,” he laughs a little before he finishes his sentence. “can i get your number? i have practice early tomorrow morning but i’m free for the rest of the day if you want to hang out.” 

you smile at his words and take his phone from him. “of course you can, i’m free tomorrow too just give me a call.” you said while handing his phone back to him after you’ve entered your number. elias gives you a wide grin and you both get up so you could walk him to the door. “goodnight elias.” you look up at him with a smile as he’s standing in the doorway. “goodnight y/n, sweet dreams.” he said and then started to walk down the hallway towards the elevator. “pettersson!” you called out at him and he turns around confused. “text me when you get home.” he gives you the thumbs up and you close your door and head to bed. 

no ones ever shown this much attention to elias before, at least no one he’s truly cared about. 

he smiled to himself on his drive home cause he was excited to text you again.

*contact name changed to “y/n<3”* 

text message to y/n<3:i just got home, thank you for the awesome night :).

-

it’s been a couple weeks since you and elias had met at the bar, you basically hung out with each other anytime you could. 

you were each others best friends at this point, sure the guys would make fun of elias for being in love with you but you couldn’t see it, elias knows he has some feelings for you but he wasn’t sure about it yet. he also didn’t want to risk the amazing friendship you guys had started.

“hey, are you coming to the game tonight?” elias asked over the phone to you.

you let out a sigh before you start speaking. “i’ll try, schools been really hard lately but i should be able to finish studying tonight.” elias could hear the tiredness in you voice and it hurt him to see you like this. “y/n, its okay. you don’t have to try and make it, focus on school its way important. you have many more games of mine that you can watch.” he left out a soft chuckle at the end of his sentence. 

“i’ll still try though, i’ll give you a text if i can make it.” you said to him as you looked at the last large text book you had to read through and look at the giant pile of coffee cups surrounding your desk. 

“okay, love you, i gotta go.” “love you too e, good luck.” you both quickly exchanged goodbyes as you started reading your last text book. you knew there was no way you were going to be able to make it to his game tonight and you felt really bad, you sighed it off as you put your attention back to studying and occasionally looking at the canucks game that was now playing on your tv.

-

the game had ended, canucks lost by one but petey is a sore loser so obviously he was sad, which made him show up at your apartment, he brought pizza from your favourite place downtown.

you were passed out on the couch though, which resulted in elias having to pull out his spare key and sneaking into your apartment.

“elias?” you mumbled out as you felt him sit next to where you were laying on the couch, he motioned for you to lay you head on his lap and you did.

“hey sleepy girl, i brought our favourite pizza.” he said to you with a smile. no matter how bad of a day elias was having, you could always make him smile.

you positioned your head so you’re now facing up at him and you give him a big smile. “thank you, can we snuggle and watch a movie?” elias starts rubbing your cheek softly. “of course we can y/n.”

the night ended with you and elias falling asleep on the couch together while watching a movie he had picked out, you both forgot about all the stress from today and just enjoyed the moment.

-

“he loves you, you know that right?” brock said to you as he came by and sat next to you.

it was the start of summer, tanev decided to host a little barbecue for the whole team before everyone left vancouver and went back to their home towns for the summer.

you were sitting in the backyard watching elias talk to huggy. “what?” you said to brock with confusion. “no he doesn’t.”

brock scoffed at your response. “dude, you can’t be serious. how do you not see it.”

you thought about what brock said for awhile before you gave him a response. “does he talk about me?” you looked at brock while taking a sip of your drink. 

“does he talk about you? of course he fucking does y/n, all the time. especially when you don’t show up to our games, it’s worse when we’re on the road.” 

you smile to yourself at what brock said.

-

you were quite tipsy by the end of the night and elias didn’t want to let you go home alone, so you spent the night at his place.

“elias?” you said in your sweet drunken tone as you both settled into his bed, and you faced your body in his direction. 

“yes?” he said while playing with your hair softly. 

“brock said something to me earlier,” you said while pulling your body close to his.

 “of course he did,” he said with a sigh. “what’d he say this time?” 

“apparently you talk about me a lot?” you said with a soft laugh and your fingers now tracing up and down his back.

“yeah, yeah i do. i talk shit about you all the time.” he says sarcastically knowing where this conversation was going.

“hey!” you said as you playfully punched him. “i was going to do something but i guess not anymore.” you said with a huff.

he lifts your chin up to face him. before you knew it you guys were kissing each other, it was a soft, long and sweet kiss.

elias pulled away with a big grin on his face and you did too. you talked to each other for the rest of the night, you ended up falling asleep before elias did but he did too shortly after.

you woke up to the smell of elias making waffles, you hugged him from behind and he didn’t even notice you were awake until you did that.

“it smells really good,” you said to elias before kissing his cheek and begging for him to hug you. 

he pulls you into his grip and whispers in your ear. “do you wanna go to sweden with me for the summer?”

you look up at him with slight shock. “yeah, why not.” you said to him with a smile and he gets very excited and spins you around, you kiss for awhile until you smell something burning and you pull away.

“shit.” elias mumbles as he deals with the burnt waffles and you’re both laughing your asses off.

[iraniq]

Birthdays be like...

# Thomas Andrew Felton:

/the scene happens in England/

- you woke up early to prepare breakfast

- barely slept the night from excitement

- half way through someome kissed your ear

- "woke up 2h ago to walk Willow, saw all, but thanks for trying"

- "go away, it's a surprise"

- "let me help in then, love!"

- "you can't help in your birthday surprise"

- "watch me"

- ends up helping in his birthday surprise.

- you singing 'ophelia'song to him, incapable to replace it with Tom and still spunds good

- he made thousand videos and pics of you stumbling with the song

- no pancake hit the floor!

- still officially forbidden of giving Willow secret not dog food

- talking about Willow, she came fast when she heard voices

- ending up making dog friendly pancake

- flipping it right on her face /was already cooled/

- Tom got it all on video

- "look now, oh hi Willow, catch"

- "did you just flipped the pancake to fall on her face?"

- before you can say yes, there was no physical memory of the pancake

- watching cartoons on the couch

- "looks like someone is sleepy"

- "nooooo"

- "well if you hadn't stayed till 2 in the morning last night..."

- "was excited for your birthday"

- "and you said it like thousand times"

- "i am excited for birthdays, and yours is a special one"

- forhead kissed

- he muttes something that endes with 'love', but tight hugs and stroking hair, is one way ticket to dreamland

- bonus: Willow is a warm pillow on your lap

- afternoon long walks

- laughter

- singing on the streets

- silly pics

- pillow fight at home

- Willow stole yet another one

- "Willow's pillow fortress is getying bigger"

- "because you can't say no to your child, and instead taking them from her, you keep on buying new ones"

- fancy, low key filthy sexy looking dress for dinner

- a comedy movie no one watched...

- ... because pillow war revange

- and somewome had to keep an eye on popcorn

- food thief detected

- sloberly kisses and yet another pillow missing

- "just jump in the pool with the dress, love"

- drying hairs in the midle of the night

- matching pajamas

- Willow at board

- "your child just stole my sock"

- "she is your child now too..." - halj asleep deep british voice

- "ok, then, our child, just stole my sock"

- more forhead kissed and love mumbles

- snuggles

- "will meet you im dreamland"

# Erich Blunt:

*Ok we have all seen the tik tok - "take your clothes off" and how the girl spits her drink, and we all reacted like that*

- after midnifgt visit at the big house

- you have a special 'multipass' key card

- wake him up at 12:02 with *coughs* love

- everywhere

- i mean everywhere

- possible

- in the house

- then maybe at 5 o'clock in the company

- the boss chair, that's unfortunately a super normal one, because he refused to have fancy cabibet

- in the virtual relity room

- junk food at the sunrise on a super random place

- naps in the big, too fancy for naps, bed

- mid afternoon flight to a dessert rave party

- yes... plain checked

- matching outfits at the party

- the looks he gives you

- yes... at some random spots in the crowd

- his poker face is out of this world

- stargazing and hand holding

- tents at feativals are not soun proof...

- both umable to human the next day, dozzing off in the plane

# Julian Albert Desmond:

- a workoholic, scientist, perfectionist... with a metahuman bad experience inside his head... He could tell by the air in the room, something was off...

- a surprise was way beyond imaginable

- imagine everybody's faces when you casualy dropped at the station, introducing yourself

- "she is a spy" - Cisco said

- "Julian mentioned he had a girldriend...but i thought it was just for the excuse" - Barry said

- "nope, alive and in the flesh"

- you announced his upcoming birthday in a week and asked for help

- they were all instantly in

- same day, Barry got 'late'

- the captain gave them a case in the far abandoned aide of town, Caitlin was in the car with him, non stop talking, how Ciaco and HR are unbarable. Iris and Barry...

- he wasn't paying attention at this point

- the building looked suapicious

- they entered, only to see the whole Team Flash, including Dr. Wells and Jessie, holding a cake, with this so familiar red sugar you have been buying lately

- he knew your surprise will pop up eventually

- you knew he was late after work, no more metahumans hate, but you nevwr poked the subject

- "no one told her" - Barry reasured

- "she is overworking today, and instructed us, quoting 'get his ass the cake, or i will end you!', she is scary for a librarian" - Iris noted

- "she certanly is"

- all laugh

- "candles blowing in abandoned and possibly dangeroys area, great"

- all laughing again

- *insert Julian's sarcastic remarcs*

- "people skills, Julian"

- A fot Ain't even trying at this point

- afterwork party at the park

- Julian being soft

- Caitlin being low key jealous

- romantic dances under the stars

- you wearing a long mid transparent nightgown and his "explorer hat"

- *insert adult content here*

# Logan Maine:

*AU where they woke up the passangers a week before artiving at Thea, notjing hit the ship*

/haven't yet finished the tv series, so some info might not be true/

- after Mia, Logan didn't plan on having friends, or being close to someone

- not that he planned to befrend Mia...

- aftee several days of you being sweet carring and maybe a bit rude, and an epileptic episode later, he was tolerating you

- maybe more than toleraring, but he wasn't gonna admit it

- he was astonishing cook to start with

- you tried making cake, when you found out

- failed!

- but the unhealthy ammount of chocolate syrop on it, fixed it

- him dipping fries in the chocilate...

- *Logan what?!*

- walking around the 'garden'

- him pushing you towards the spraying water

- trying to name the plants only to end up with: "if it's not weed..." - he laughed

- "you are failing at being horrible"

- "trying to be, but that smile of yours isn't helping"

- marker writing on the station windows, connecting stars in odd shapes

- sneaking on others

- "is Baum a perv, or just a perv"

- "Shun and Lana are totally a thing"

- low key stealing extra pills for his epilepsy

- who'll suspect the cool sweet kid's teacher

- stealing food from your supervisor's cabim, after you went asking her, what Logan liked, so you can make a romantic dinner

- she didn't gave you much info, but the odd plastic half liquid sweets you stole definwtly tasted good

- "the A woman stealing? Your crush on me is ruining your good name"

- "maybe i am tired of a good name"

- "don't tell me you go to another planet to be a criminal"

- "lools like i might have the best teacher"

- "only om small crimes, like stealing a pretty girl's heart"

- his odd winks

- that smirk

- kisses in the dark

- he "found" some extra blankets

- 2 burritos on a way after midnight open space gazing

- Shun may have cought you drawing the odd funny shapes, but told no one - you were holding hands, giggling drawing one ovee another, was way too cute to tell on

# Draco Lucius Malfoy:

/Around 6th-ish year maybe.../

- how you pick a present for someone who has everything, literally everuthing

- bargins with Pansy for info

- Theo gives it all free

- Blaize asked for unknown favor

- no one actually gave you smth to work with

- Draco was bitter

- even the good fight with Potter didn't lift his spirit

- nor the -10 points

- you even owled Narcisaa, but nothing

- difficult problems require simple solution

- his favourire clothes of yours

- your Gucci pefulme on his scarf

- this beyond ordenary way you bite off from his green apple

- the thing with the shy eyes and devil smile you love pulling on him

- touching his hair

- scratching his hands with your long nails gives him the good chills

- changing in that gorgeous emerald green dress he bought you for the Christmas ball

- pinky hand holding

- getting cold, so he can give you his coat

- him and his long coat

- messy pearl hair

- stolen kissed under his tree

- brushing your nose in his cheek

- teasing each other

- in your own bubble in aftwenoon class

- again -10 points... each

- professor Lupin felt the pain of ceperating the lovely sight you were, so he can continue his lesson

- party at the boy's bedroom

- eating the cake his mom send you, instead of dinner

- whole friends group having pure childish fun, sharing silly stories

- levitating around in pretend swim manner

- cake

- *coughs* wine *cougs*

- late night walk to the astronomy tower

- him showing you the stars

- the Dragon again, because you can never place it right

- him knowing you pretend not to know, so he can have an excuse to give you silly shoulder kisses

- you tip toeing to reach him

- passionate kisses under the stars

______________

@diyunho @lovermrjokerr @darthjokerisyourfather @littlebeautifly

Whoever enjoys it as well 😛

[98prilla]

Nightmare

Can’t stop writing me some soft Roman and Virgil!

He was stupid. This was so, so stupid. What was he even doing here, hand hovering over the door, poised to knock, if he could just steel himself enough to knock…

 He bit back a growl of frustration at his own cowardice. It felt like butterflies gnawing at his stomach, crawling up his throat, buzzing in a panic in his head, making his shoulders hunch higher. It was the fear of the dark of a child, the fear of the monsters under the bed, the fear of everything and nothing, the fear of the unknowns.

 Because what if it hadn’t been a simple nightmare? What if it had really happened and he’d sunk back to his room and cried himself to sleep and everything being fine and perfect and normal was the dream? What if he knocked, and was met with cold, icy eyes?

 What if Roman did as threatened and ran him through before he could say a word?

 What if Patton told him, so gently it was cruel, that he was a nuisance, a bother?

 What if Logan produced his journal, filled with reason upon cold, undeniable reason, that he was simply a hindrance?

 What if they were right?

 He couldn’t, couldn’t face them. He should just go back to his room and wait for one of them to come looking. If they came looking then it hadn’t been real, but he could not stand to face them if it had been.

 He didn’t know why it was Roman's door, he was hovering outside of. Perhaps because the prince was always so blunt. He would know, immediately, with Roman. Maybe it was because he couldn’t take anymore gentle devastation from Patton, any more pure evidence of his detriment from Logan. Maybe because he hoped to god even if it was real, that Roman would somehow pity him enough to let him in anyway, before sending him away for good.

 He bit his lip, hand shaking. Do it, just do it, why was this so hard? The longer he waited, the worse it got, the gnawing becoming a pit becoming a black hole in his stomach and he was just about to shuffle away when the door opened, revealing a yawning, bleary eyed Roman.

 He froze, fear and hope and shame welling in his chest, making it hard to breathe. Then Roman spoke.

 “I thought I heard you out on patrol, Stormy Knight. Wandering the halls so early?”

 He burst into tears.

Because Roman had spoken softly, Roman had smiled tiredly, Roman didn’t draw his sword or snarl or slam him against the wall and tell him to never come back, and it had been a dream, just a dream, and nothing, nothing could match the pure relief flooding through him.

 “Virg? What's wrong? Are you hurt?” Roman asked. Roman was worried. Was worried about him.

 He shook his head, barely able to speak through the tears, through the what ifs still running and running and running through his mind, so loudly.

 “H-had to s-see… didn’t kn-know…” he wasn’t being coherent, he barely knew what he was trying to say, but Roman must have understood, in some way.

 Carefully, slowly, Roman reached out, tugging Virgil close, wrapping his arms around the lanky side.

 “This ok?” He asked, when Virgil didn’t respond at all to his touch. He felt Virgil nod, and he choked out something that was maybe a yes.

 Roman nodded, resting his head atop Virgil's, humming softly and he gently swayed with Virgil in his arms.

 “there now, my little black hole. It’s alright.” He cried harder at that, somehow, and his hands fisted the fabric of Roman's pajama top, clinging to him as if his life depended on it.

 He was barely aware of Roman swaying, murmuring gentle nonsense, as his tears finally gave way to hiccupping gasps, as he sagged against Roman.

 “sorry… im sorry, I-"

 “Virgil. It is ok, its ok.” He buried his head against Roman, he didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes. “shall we get you back to bed?” his eyes widened, and he shoved out of Roman's embrace, stumbling until his back hit the wall.

 “N-no. No! I c-can’t, I c-cant do it a-again, I-" he broke off, breath heaving, hands tangling in his hair as he fought for air, the world blurring around him.

 “Kiddo, ya just aren’t really helping Thomas, y'know? It might be better if you just… stopped."

 “His productiveness goes down 40 percent whenever you are around, and you also have a damaging effect on his social life. There is no if. Thomas will be empirically better without you.”

 “il… eath… please…” no no no no. They were right, of course they were right, he wasn’t good, wasn’t needed, wasn’t-

 “virgil.” His eyes shot up, Roman was kneeling a foot away from him, eyes warm with sympathy and concern and understanding. “can you hear me?” he swallowed dryly, managing a small, shaky nod, and Roman's face lit up with a gentle smile.

 “good. Then listen to me, ok? You are never unwanted. We love you, I love you. I will never tell you to leave. And I would fight the others if they said otherwise. It was a nightmare, Virge. Just a nightmare.” Slowly, Roman reached out, ever so careful as he tucked Virgil's bangs back, letting his hand rest gently against Virgil's cheek.

 “P-p-promise?” Roman's heart broke at that quiet vulnerability, his eyes wide as saucers, filled with a broken kind of hope, a shattering kind of pain.

 In an instant, Roman had scooted closer, scooping Virgil onto his lap, cradling him close.

 “I promise. I promise, Virgil. I promise.” He let out a soft sniffle, shoulders shaking as he wrapped his arms around Roman’s neck, face pressed against his shoulder, he was tired, so tired, but the fear ate at him, even as Roman rocked him, rubbing his back, murmuring and humming and being so patient with him. And somehow every small action, every small movement of kindness and love sent him back over the edge into tears. They were seemingly endless. He didn’t remember bottling this much up inside, didn’t remember when he shoved all this sadness and deep, aching, endless fear into his chest, but he couldn’t stop it from leaking out now.

 “Oh, darling… I know. I know.” He didn’t know how long they had been kneeling there on the floor, but he was exhausted, yet completely unwilling to let go of Roman, too tired to be ashamed of his need for touch right now, too warm and sleepy to force on his dark demeanor, and pretend that he didn’t want this, need this, crave this closeness. “Sometimes talking about nightmares can make them better. That’s what we always do, me and Remus. We tell each other our nightmares, and then we make them better. We say all the ways we would defeat whatever monster hurt or chased or scared us, we turn the fears into something ridiculous. Once, I was being hunted through the imagination, by some giant, shambling, thing. I couldn’t leave the bed, I was terrified. Remus said next time I had that dream, I should imagine the thing trying to move with roller skates on, I should imagine it with googly eyes, I should make its body turn into playdough and its legs into pipe cleaners. It wasn’t so scary after that.” Roman said, getting a small, weak laugh out of Virgil, who shook his head.

 “maybe. Maybe in the morning. But i… I can’t… right now, I can’t…”

 “That’s ok, too, darling. You don’t have to tell me anything. You don’t have to talk about it. It just may help. Do you wanna spend the rest of the night with me?” He nodded, so fast it made his head spin. He couldn’t bear to go back to his room alone, he would die, if he had to go back alone. “alright. Going up, then, my sliver of starlight.” He let out a soft noise as he was lifted up in Roman’s arms, the fading adrenaline and minor panic attack weighing him down, so he was very nearly asleep by the time Roman carefully settled the two of them in his bed.

 He curled tight against Roman, letting out a small happy sigh, at the warmth, at the touch, at the comfort as Roman wrapped his arms around him, cuddling him close and gently, thumb stroking his forehead in blissful, soothing circles.

 “go to sleep, Virg. No nightmares will find you here. I promise, love.” Roman murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, causing him to let out a soft, small almost mewl at how damn good he felt. “Sleep well, love. Sweet dreams.”

 And they were.