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tonycries · 8 months ago

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F*ck You! (Literally) - T.F.

Synopsis. Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, angry séx, spítting, degradation, y’all are both mean, rough, jealousy (Toji’s side), bréeding, smackíng, arguíng during it, cúmplay, overstím, oral (female receiving), mentions of Megumi and Shiu, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.7k

A/N. Gojo next week because I miss my man smh.

It’s not often that you contemplate something that would definitely end up with a night in jail - but it seems that somehow whenever you did, your ex-husband Toji was always sure to be the cause of it.

Like that time he had the audacity to ask you out to dinner right outside the divorce attorney’s office, mere moments after signing those papers. Or when he “accidentally” sent you some mouthwateringly shirtless photos - through email, of course, because you had him blocked otherwise. Although, you’d saved those pictures - a secret you’d take to the grave.

And now.

Standing right outside your front door, on the night of what would’ve been your fifth anniversary. His imposing figure filling the frame, that tiny scar you loved and hated so much quirking up ever-so-slightly as he shoots you a sly grin.

He’s here.

Looking as devastatingly handsome as the day you left him.

“Happy anniversary, ex-wifey.”

And just as irritating, too.

That snaps you out of your traitorous little reverie, and before long you’re sputtering out a shaky, “Y-you. What do you think you’re doing here?” Not even waiting for his response before moving to shut the door in his face.

“Oh, believe me,” Toji lets out a humorless little laugh, reaching up a sculpted arm to stop the door in its tracks. “I wouldn’t be here even if I wanted to.”

That was a lie - and Toji knew that. He had half the mind to think that you knew that. But it didn’t matter when you’re glaring up at him so prettily. The confusion evident on your face as you grit out a shrill, “Then why am I seeing your stupid face tonight?”

“Chance? Luck? A blessing?”

Scoffing, “A curse.”

“That mouth’s still as sharp as ever, huh?” He cocks his head in amusement, “Did you not see my email?”

“No, I uh-” you mumble, face burning. And oh you wish you could stop yourself from thinking back to those photos - stop yourself from wanting to smack the smirk off Toji’s face that told you he was, too. “-blocked you on…that…as well.”

“Mhm.” he hums, eyes lingering too long on your comfy pajamas - his favorite ones - and the way you’re squirming so adorably under the intensity of his gaze. “Well, m’just here to pick up one of that brat’s toys. Won’t take long n’ I’ll be out of your sight, doll.”

And you can’t say anything about that familiar little petname, because it hits you with a pang - oh, how you missed Megumi.

He’d thrown a tantrum until he was allowed to visit you occasionally, of course. But still, it was nothing compared to how inseparable the three of you were before your relationship with Toji soured. His line of work too dangerous, the fights more frequent until you’d had enough.

“Ah, yes. Megs probably won’t even leave the house without it.” you chuckle, opening the door wider. “I was surprised to find it the other day since he said that lil’ plushie was his best friend. After me.”

“After me.”

“Liar.”

“Gorgeous.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fitting for our anniversary, huh?” And oh how Toji enjoyed riling you up. To spy that little furrow between your brows as he strides inside your apartment like it was his own - he did know it like the back of his hand. “I already know where the bed is, after all.”

“Yeah, and you know where the door is too.” you mutter, acting like it didn’t make your head spin to think of Toji - in your home. With you. You and Toji. In your home. You and Toji in your home.

You hadn’t seen him since the divorce just four months ago, and here he was looking so unfairly like he fit right in. Taking up much more time than necessary as he walks towards that little wolf toy on your couch. Eyeing up the sappy romance movie paused on-screen, and those familiar photographs on the wall.

You still had that one of the two of you from that beach getaway two years ago, he noted with delight.

“Heh, for someone that hates me so much, s’funny you have my face hung up here.” he smirks, words just dripping with that familiar dark tone that has shivers running down your spine. “Knew you were still into me.” Defiant - challenging, even, because he always did like to push all your buttons.

Don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fall for-

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes, walking towards where Toji stood. “I jus’ use it to scare off clingy dates in the morning.”

And you loved to push his buttons even more.

“Oh? Dates, huh?” And something about those words make you feel like something’s too-tense. Exciting, even. Especially as he repeats - more to himself than you, “Dates.”

“Jealous?”

“Heh, of whatever scrub took you out? In your dreams, doll.” Maybe it was the way Toji was joking - but didn’t sound like he was at all. Or maybe it was the way he didn’t move as you stepped closer, enough that you’re almost toe-to-toe with him. Probably it was the way he murmurs out a strangled, “M’not jealous.”

Oh.

You watch the way his body stiffens, darkened eyes flitting between you and the picture and you- Smirking “Good, because m’having one over soon.”

“Oh, you little bitch.” He spits out the words, gaze hardening in a way you knew did not bode well for your - or down there. Hitting it where it hurts, “This is why I’m so fuckin’ glad we divorced.”

“Fuck you,” you tilt your head, anger simmering beneath your skin - and you didn’t know who was pissing each other off more. “So then you can get out before my date gets here.” And the emphasis on “date” isn’t lost on him.

“Such a liar.”

“M’not lying.” You were - but you didn’t care if Toji could tell because it was ticking him off just the same. “You could say he’s an-” Now close enough that you could feel the heat of his proximity. A finger stabbing right in his pecs with each word, “-upgrade.”

Suddenly you’re being pulled to his rock-hard chest, all the dips and curves of his body so sinfully obvious against your skin as he questions, “How so?”

“Well, for starters he’s-” you gasp, casting a sidelong glance at the way the muscles in his arms ripple. And it takes everything in you to try and keep your voice steady, “-bigger.” Thighs pressing together at the tiny grunt of disbelief that leaves your ex-husband, too-aware of the strong hand wrapped around your waist. “And sexier.”

“And?”

“And what?” you gulp, raising your head to blink up at him in confusion and oh-

Oh, shit. You weren’t going to make it out alive.

Toji’s eyes were wide, a mirthless smirk spreading across his face, jaw tensing as he leans down to whisper hotly against your ear, words hoarse - stilted, like it pained him to even speak them into existence. “And what other lies are ya gonna make up?”

And you might be a genius - you might just not know what’s good for you.

Because you’re batting your lashes just the way you knew he liked, the words - saccharine sweet, and falling from your lips faster than your whirling brain could even register them. “And he makes me cum so much harder.”

Toji’s lips are crashing against yours - and you knew it was coming. You wanted them to. Bruising, angry - like he was telling you to just shut the fuck up, another word of your imaginary date and it would kill him.

He tasted the same as he did all those months ago. Sweet, like those cheap lollipops he would buy you and that absolute sin of his scar rubbing against your lips.

“Fuck-” he lets out a guttural groan into your lips. Only a sloppy mix of teeth and spit as he kisses you with the collective desperation of a little over four months. “Hate how you’re-” Like he didn’t even care if it left your poor lips swollen and bruised - at least that might give whatever loser coming here a hint. “-still addictive.”

With that, he picks you up like it’s just nothing, your traitorous legs easily wrapping around his toned waist. Letting you pull off that sinfully snug t-shirt to feel the smooth planes of all his muscles. Soft. Warm.

You gasp at how he manhandles you so that your thin pajama pants are just above his achingly hard cock, throbbing, and so so angry against your core. Trousers already so damp with- precum? Your slick?

“Hah- not jealous my ass-” you hiss, grinding down on his bulge.

And Toji’s parting mere millimeters, chuckling darkly at the disappointed little whine that escapes you. “Yeah, well, does he ever get you like this?” He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, purposely not giving you what you want. “Does he ever get you this-” Grinding you against his straining erection, two fingers sliding down, just teasing the drenched front of your shorts. “-this fuckin’ wet?”

“Nah,” you pull on Toji’s silky locks, nipping at his collarbone. “He gets me wetter.”

“You little-”

It’s like something snaps - whatever’s left of Toji’s sanity, your patience, possibly you by the end of this. Anything but the thick, suffocating - tension in your living room. Now too small. Too hot.

Before you can react, your back is hitting the soft cushions of your couch. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw as Toji looms over you.

“Thought you knew where the bed was?” you manage to get out, in the heat of it all.

“Thought you hated me?”

“Gonna kill you if you break this cou-” but the rest of the retort on your tongue dies as Toji’s hands are suddenly everywhere.

Groping your breasts - your waist - your ass. Barely giving you time to even think before fisting your shirt in one hand. Too impatient - too starved - to do anything other than pull down, down, down until it-

RIP!

“Oh you fuckin’ slut.” Toji’s jaw drops into a soft little oh! at the sight of your heavenly breasts before him. No bra - exactly how he liked it. “How I missed these.” Massaging them under his hands, “Is this for him or ya really had no idea I was coming?”

“You’re t-too fuckin’ hah-” you whine as he immediately takes one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive nipples. “-full of yourself.”

And you don’t even know if Toji registered the insult - looking like he was on cloud nine as he rolled your other nipple between two fingers. Pulling off with a lewd pop! only to say, “Wonder if you’re the same down there.”

You are - Toji discovers, with wonder.

Hooking a finger underneath the hem of your already-soaked shorts to pull them off. And, hey, Toji hasn’t had this view in months - so he really can’t help himself from bringing them up to his face. Your jaw drops at his pure audacity as he breathes in the scent of your dripping pussy with a strained, “M’keepin’ these, doll.”

“You’re sick.”

“And you’re soaked.” strong hands spread your legs so shamefully. You can’t fight it - how fucking wet and glistening you were for him under the dim-lighting. Toji grins cockily, “Who’s she this wet for, huh? Me or him?”

“Not- not you-” you whine, despite how your sloppy cunt was leaking all over your legs - such a mess. A mess that Toji was shifting down the couch to lick up. Slow, lazy circles right at your inner thighs. Sweet - so sweet, his favorite. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste and oh, how Toji missed this.

Missed teasing you until you broke.

Which, it turns out, happens fairly early.

“Y-you’re just fucking talk.” you hiss, but it comes out more breathless than you intended. Your voice betraying how badly you wanted him. Needed him to do something - anything. “He-”

Toji doesn’t even let you finish your sentence - and you don’t need to - because without another word, he’s surging forward until he was nose-deep in your messy cunt.

Licking one, long stripe up your swollen folds - up and down, up and down, up and- He murmurs into your cunt, “Do ya still like when I-” Hot tongue flicking roughly against your clit. Just barely, and you’re bucking wildly underneath him. “Ah, you do. Old habits die hard, huh?”

Of course, the only response that Toji gets is a wet, pathetic murmur of something - maybe a plea, probably a curse at him to shut up.

But it’s something that has all the blood rushing to his aching cock, something that has him biting down lightly on your inner thigh - just a little punishment.

“What was that?” he purrs, “Didn’t seem to hear you right, wifey.”

It takes everything in you to gasp out, a barely-audible determined little, “I-I said-” fingers threading through Toji’s hair, pulling up his face. Hard, so that he’s forced to meet your eyes instead of admiring your pretty lil’ cunt. “-fuck you.”

And you don’t know what you expected - maybe an insult back, maybe for him to get up and leave you all high and dry right then and there.

But oh you should’ve known your ex-husband better, because he has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh, more to infuriate you than anything as he promptly spits on your quivering pussy.

Once. Twice.

You flinch as some splatters against your thigh, and you both know it’s on purpose. Because Toji Fushiguro always had perfect aim - but when it comes to you, well, he had to knock his bratty lil’ wife down a few pegs.

Throwing your legs over his shoulders to lick all over your sloppy pussy once more. “Fuck me, huh?” he groans out little profanities into your cunt, “Fuck me fuck me fuck me-”

Smack!

You register that delicious little sting on your ass far before the realization that Toji smacked you - and even later do you realize that you liked it. Slick beading through at the painfully good feeling.

Liked the way his rough palm was soothing over the sting, words strangled and slurring together as he smacks his lips against your swollen, sensitive ones. “I’d rather you fuck me than some hah- other loser.”

“S-so fucking mean-” you moan.

“So what?” His thumb draws tight little circles on your throbbing clit, the other hand looping around your waist - bruising - as he drags your sloppy pussy all over his hot mouth. “No one else could do this.” Soft tongue going all the way up from your base, “Get you this wet-” Just dipping into your clenching hole. “-taste you like this.”

“Hngh- fuck-” you groan, as he alternates between flicking your clit so mean and squeezing his tongue into your tight cunt. “Fuck fuck fuck- s’too much-”

Too much? Toji wanted to laugh - if he wasn’t so addicted to the feeling of your gummy walls stretched out so obscenely on his tongue, anyway. He knows you can take it - you always did.

And he tells you that - a little over ten times, actually, as the hand on your waist arches you deeper and deeper onto Toji’s tongue. Fucking you so harshly - merciless. Unrelenting. Like he was taking any and every shred of anger out on your ravaged cunt.

Bucking your hips wildly, you tipping your head down to look at the sight below you and oh-

You gasp at how sinfully blissed out Toji looks between your thighs. Eyes glassy and hooded, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead. Your slick glossing his lips so prettily - and if you angled your head just right you could catch the way it drips down his jawline. Yeah, maybe you really did like his face between your legs.

“Always knew ya did, doll.” he echoes against your glistening lips and shit, did you say that out loud?

It doesn’t matter, because Toji has his lips smushing against yours, such a filthy mess of spit and fingers and tongue - everywhere. Like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to taste more. “Knew your pussy missed me, even when you’re such some other bastard. She’s still so sweet.” Thrusting in and out faster past that first, feeble ring of resistance. “So messy f’me. Fuckin’ my tongue so good for s-someone that hates me.”

And you have half the mind to wonder whether it hurt - how his fingers weren’t cramping up yet, lips aching. Letting you push his face deeper into your pussy, ankles locking around his broad shoulders in a desperate attempt to shut him up. Close.

“Y-you talk ngh- too much.” Blood roaring in your ears, feeling his smirk against your cunt. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“Nah, I know you ah- love it.” Smack! Another handprint on your ass that has you stuttering and jolting on his face. “Can feel you clenching all around me because I-” Toji gives you such an infuriating wink from below, “-eat this pussy the best.”

And you would be mad at how cocky he was being - if you weren’t cumming all over his pretty face.

Stars behind your eyes with each little lick of Toji’s tongue as he fucks you through your high, lapping up all your sweet sweet juices.

“W-wait oh-” you were letting out such delirious little whines. “S’too sensitive- too- hngh-”

“No-” he grits out, voice shot. “No no no no- wan’ it. Need it.” Scrambling to pull your hips back onto his mouth. Fingers just bruising on your skin.

He was like a man possessed, and you can only lay there and take it as Toji tips his head back to let your slick slide, down, down, down his throat. Voice shot, as he grits out, “Oh fuck, been holdin’ out on me.” Eyes unfocused and miles away as he comes up to squish your cheeks together in an embarrassing little pout. “Open that fucking mouth.”

And you barely even realize it when you are - tongue lolling out so sinfully. The only thing jolting you back to whatever senses you have left is Toji spitting in your mouth.

A steady, angry stream of saliva before his lips are clashing once more with yours. Purposefully letting your juices smear all over both your lips, tasting yourself and him and how desperate you were on his tongue-

“O-oh my god.” you break the kiss at the feeling of something so hard against your cunt. Delicate strings of spit snapping as you whirl down to look. Shit, when did he even take off his-

Ah, how Toji loves the breathless little whimper that leaves your lips at the sight of his too-tight boxers, the insults failing you now. Humming, “Like what ya see?”

As if to prove his point, he tugs them down just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free. Fuck, you think you’ll never get used to it, even after so long - Toji was so fucking massive. Flushed red, soaked in beads of precum that drip down, down, down all the way to the tufts of black at his toned pelvis.

So thick and angry that your legs were clenching together just at the mere sight. And Toji notices - how could he not?

“Yeah…” he murmurs, as if continuing a conversation from before. Muscled arms pushing your thighs apart to watch how your sloppy pussy was drooling all over the couch. “She definitely missed me, look how much she’s gushing.” Pooling your juices on his fingertips, “Clean your act up, doll”

“Shut up.” you squeal, embarrassedly, giving Toji a glare that makes his balls squeeze so painfully. Smirking, “You’re not even as big as him.”

Oh.

Well, Toji didn’t like that - not one bit, in fact, as he shoves his dripping wet fingers in your mouth - pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way he knows will have your pretty eyes welling up with tears.

“Then why aren’t you with him, you little bitch. Think I like you better when you’re f-fucked dumb.” he spits dangerously against your lips. Fisting his cock to lazily drag up and down your puffy folds. “Don’t you hah- agree?”

He doesn’t get to find out if you agree - and he doesn’t care, either. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to give an answer even if you wanted to. Because his swollen cock was too thick, the stretch too sinful, too dizzying as Toji splits you apart on his unforgiving cock.

“Mmmpf- fuck! Hah-” you mewl, torn between running away from his cock and bucking down for more more more-

“More?” he laughs, “Ya ask him for more like this too?”

And oh how so very cute and pliant you were being stuffed full. He barely gives you the time to adjust because - why would he? Toji has his mouthy wife all breathless and splayed out so shamefully, desperately trying to milk his cock for all he’s worth.

Barely even halfway in, yet he rocks into you in shallow, teasing little grinds just to fit himself inside your tight pussy. So mean. Not giving a fuck about those teary whimpers leaving your mouth.

“They ever ngh- fuck you like this?” he rasps, dropping his head to leave little bites down your tender neck. “Ever h-having you crying for his dick like ngh- this?” And despite all his confidence, Toji didn’t want to hear the answer - didn’t want to know the truth. “Such a slut.”

Your nails rake angrily down his sculpted shoulders - a warning, and it’s about the only thing you can do as Toji speeds up. Faster. Deeper.

“Heh, what? Markin’ me up for others to hah- see?” he cooes, mockingly. And you could just cry as his grin widens, finally - finally - pulling his fingers out. “Why don’t you ngh- use your words instead?”

And you should probably breathe, probably tell him to fuck you exactly the way he wants to - to confess to him that this is all you’ve ever wanted on those lonely nights these past four months. But the both of you know that it’s more fun this way.

So instead, you smile sweetly, “F-fuck you. They do - a lot better, too.”

If only your voice hadn’t cracked so unconvincingly at the end - if only you hadn’t let out such a pornographic moan as Toji pulls your face to meet his. Kissing you over and over and his hips-

“I’m the one fucking you, doll.” he bites down on your lower lip, tugging and pushing at a senseless little rhythm - the complete opposite of his hips. “Remember that.” And that’s all that’s said before Tojis finally bottoming out all the way to the hilt. Heavy balls smacking sinfully against your ass, fat head just kissing your cervix. “It’s me. I don’t give a hah- shit if it’s been f-four mouths, it’ll always be ngh- me.”

The couch creaked in protest as Toji fucked you like it was the last thing he’d do. Like he was trying to fuck every thought of whoever came after him right out of you - along with those silly little thoughts about the divorce.

“B-but-” your eyes widen as Toji runs his mouth - as hasty and urgent as his movements now. Fingers snaking up to toy with your still-sensitive clit, not even drawing circles anymore - just messy, little patterns just to get you off. “We’re already-”

“You s-still think we’re oh- nothing but exes?” he questions, sounding as surprised as you felt. “We can’t stay ah- God, we can’t stay apart and you fuckin’ know it. So…”

You gulp, already knowing the answer to the question he was just goading you into asking. “So?”

“So…” Toji muses, giving your swollen lips a short, chaste peck. Whispering against them, “M’gonna hah- fuck you till everyone knows you’re mine.”

A promise that Toji Fushiguro was well and fully intent on fulfilling. And you didn’t doubt that he’d have any trouble with it, in fact.

Because he’s rutting into you so animalistically now, so so sloppy. Torn between savoring the feeling of your plushy walls squeezing him to insanity and abusing your poor cervix. Prominent veins making you feel a maddening little thump thump thump as he roams for that one-

“Ah! Hngh- Toji!”

Found it.

And Toji had everything he needed - you, his wife, spread so sinfully and stuffed to the brim with him. Hitting your sweet spot over and over-

“No loser’s gonna fuck you like this.” he breathes against your ear. “Have you ngh- feeling this good.”

“I- ngh- fuck fuck fuck, Toji-” you let out, hips mindlessly bucking down in a pathetic attempt to meet his rough thrusts. “S’too- hah- oh my god. S’too good-”

“Shut up.” Oh he sounds so absolutely wrecked. Sanity crumbling away bit by bit every time he’s plunging his cock - so painfully hard - into your wet pussy. “Do you even ah- realize how sexy you look right now?” Toji throws his head back, eyes still locked on you like it killed him to look away. “Never lettin’ anyone else s-see ya like this. They’re gonna look at you and see me-”

You don’t even know what he’s babbling about anymore. Just that his achingly hard cock was making such a mess of you, pulling back only to go deeper. Massaging all the right spots as fucked you harder into the couch.

“Me-” he gasps. “That date is gonna fuck- know,” Hips stuttering and absolutely filthy, “That cashier d-down the ngh- street that eyes you up every time is gonna know-” Angry. Desperate. So, so needy. “Your fucking lawyer- ngh- s’gonna know. They’ll s-see you and see me me me me-”

At this point you can only nod deliriously, letting out a broken little, “Hngh- yeah, wan’ that, Toji. Wan’ you so bad.”

Toji presses another chaste kiss - this time to your forehead. Whispering a quiet, “Then cum f’me, doll.”

You do - the hardest you ever think you ever have in your entire life. Thighs shaking, vision spotty, sparks of white-hot electricity going all the way from your hazy brain to where Toji was fucking you through it.

Muffling your moans with his mouth as he gives one, harsh thrust. Then spilling into your gummy walls, painting it all an obscene white with rope after rope of hot cum.

So wet and hot - with him. All him.

And you look so cute taking it all like the good little wife that you are, that he can’t help but press down on your lower stomach. Awe-struck at how your cunt gushes around him, coating his twitching cock as Toji fucks his seed deeper and deeper into you.

But, hell, that wasn’t his favorite part - not by a long shot. Instead, it was probably when you pulled him into his arms, whispering sweet little nonsense in his ear about “how you missed this” and “that date wasn’t real anyway” as he fucks the two of you through your highs. Sweet. Familiar.

“Oh, God-” he mutters into the crook of your neck, slightly calmer now. Much more clear-minded than the two of you were mere seconds before. “We broke the couch.”

And it was true - one side was sagging much more than the other. Though you can only let out a giggle in response. Doesn’t matter, the two of you’ll pick out a new one tomorrow - he always hated this new one, anyway. “Happy anniversary, wifey.”

---

“Damn kid, that ol’ dad of yours sure is running late.” Shiu crosses and uncrosses his legs with slight nervousness. Eyeing the small, dark-haired boy playing with blocks a few feet away, “Maybe we should-”

“It’s okay. He’ll be back.” Megumi deadpans, sounding like the absolute last thing on his mind was why his dad was taking way too long for what should’ve been a half an hour errand. Shiu - on the other hand - had his mind whirling with imaginations of traffic accidents or murders or- what if the two of you killed each other- “And he’ll bring back mama too.”

You could almost hear the record screech to a halt. The older man stared wide-eyed at a slightly-smiling Megumi. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait- no, what did you-”

“Nothing.”

Because, hey, Megumi might’ve had to go without his favorite wolf plushie for a bit - but a magician never reveals his tricks, right?

A/N. So how does it feel to be played by a kid, hm?

Plagiarism not authorized.

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hoseoksluna · 11 months ago

Text

SOJU | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. hobi)

genre: heavy angst, heavy smut

word count: 10.4k

summary: jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.

playlist: soju / pinterest board: wine

warnings: sex flashbacks, alcohol consumption, jungkook is drunk emotional and a mess, jealousy, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), almost heavy dd/lg themes, plushie used during intercourse, inner child healing, use of a sex toy, oral sex (f. receiving), ass play and nipple play, provocation, dirty talk, hair pulling, dry humping, rough sex, overstimulation, pain felt during intercourse, jungkook instructs reader like the teacher he is, pet names and one particular title used, squirting, praise kink, jungkook is mean and cruel and just so horny

note: i will never forget this fic. never. this is the third part of 'wine' and therefore the very end to this adventitious series. even though, this part has a little bit information and quirks in it from the other two fics, it's fine to read as a standalone, but i do recommend reading all three parts as they interlink and you can beautifully see the process and the change of their relationship. i want to thank the lovely soul who asked me to make this a series because writing this made me incredibly happy—and all the themes i used mean the world to me. i also want to thank all of you for reading and for all the love. i hope you like this as much as i do. please, heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that not everyone can be comfortable with. with that being said, enjoy your reading and let me know what you think, let me know your favorite parts. ᡣ𐭩

side note: drunk 3D jungkook being all mean, dominant and daddy is, quite literally, the epitome of my sexuality.

Jungkook will always be a man of his word.

It’s the foundation that keeps his back straight as he leads you through the crowd. The core of the whole promise is the very strength of his fingers as they clasp around your much smaller hand because he notices, under the washed out lights of red and violet, that you’re the center of attention.

He feels as though he’s dragging the hand of a child like a protective father. Except, he has the impulsive need to cover you with his body.

It’s a blasting alarm within the ear splitting chaos of his mind. Louder than the modern music he cares little for; louder than the song of the hard, quickening beats of his heart that he’s unable to ignore. He promised he’d make it up to you about the party because he’d made you drunk with lust. Now that he’s taken you here, he’d much rather be back home with you. Wouldn’t even have the need to seduce you—he just doesn’t want to be here. Doesn’t want you to be the apple of everyone’s eye.

Sweat glistens on the planes of his forehead.

Jungkook returns every inquisitive look of people he doesn’t know with a stern furrow of his brows. Figures he needs a drink; figures he needs his hyung, at least one familiar face among strangers.

A strong one, to calm the storm within, and a big hug from the host himself.

He hates people.

Leading you to the makeshift bar of spirits in the kitchen, he has a protective hand over the small of your back as you climb on the bar stool. Watches as your ass lifts over the leather and almost jumps out of his own skin when the outsole of your high-heeled shoe slips on the footrest and you fall back onto the chair with a thud. A precious set of treble giggles billow out of your mouth, followed by a reassuring flick of your hand that you’re okay, and Jungkook’s own hand trembles when he lifts it off your back. While you open your purse to reapply your lip gloss, he hides behind his tight, feigned smile the need to run and calm his breathing.

His irises wander over the contents of that purse of yours. Finds a long brown pencil there, your phone, a pack of cigarettes with a purple lighter and a ring of keys adorned with the tiniest Hello Kitty he’s ever seen. No wallet, no cash tucked beneath. A smirk tugs the corner of his mouth, hand acting out of its own will—coming over to your long hair, smoothing it down as you focus on lining your lips with another set of glitter and pinkness. Perhaps the gesture is owed to the proudness he feels due to the fact you’re expecting to be provided for throughout the night, wherever it takes you both after this party. Blurred within is the smugness that he’s the reason you’re dolling yourself up again because he couldn’t help but make a mess of your mouth in the car. It makes his cock grow tight in his pants.

He wears the smugness all over his features. From the gleaming cosmos in his eyes, to the smudged kiss stains of all the roses in the world scattering over his nose and cheeks, down to the deepening smirk. He thinks he’d buy you anything your eyes would linger a heartbeat longer on, with snacks included in case you’d get hungry, as he silently praises you for your good behavior, for that smart brain of yours by the brush of his hand down your hair. A sick part of him wants to even get in debt for you for the pure fun of it—the fun being the primal core of your wishes and needs being gratified, for your satisfaction to shine through the veins on your skin like little sun rays, all while having the time of your life on the night out he promised you.

He’s not afraid to admit he’d do anything for you as long as it stays safely stashed within his system. Can’t risk voicing it out. Can’t risk you knowing. Can’t risk shit.

Studying the shape of your lips as you hold up a small heart-shaped mirror, he twirls the ends of your hair as he waits for you to be done to ask you what you want to drink. Is reminded of the way those pillows wrapped around the straw of the banana milk you brought for him the last time he saw you. Of the way they sucked his fingers when he used them for lubrication to rub your clit while he was fully buried inside your tight, dew-sprinkled cunt. He suddenly feels hot under his collar.

He’s a slave to flashbacks. Always has been.

The celestial concoction of your needy moans and his, kept safe within the confines of his car, loop in his brain. The look of agonized lust when he bit your bottom lip in a heated kiss that he soon alleviated with the swipe of his tongue, with the suction of his lips that begged him to take more of you. Jungkook hears it as if there wasn’t any music at all, as if its thrumming wasn’t enveloping the corridors of his panic-stricken heart. He hears your words, embellished by those giggles of yours, in his ears all over again: “Stop, you’re making me horny. We should go inside.” His own, too: “You dance better for me when your panties are wet. I know you do.” Sees again, as if the moment is happening again and you’re standing in front of him, the way you reacted to his hands warming up your sides in the cold after you stumbled out of his car. Sighing softly, glossy eyes whirling upwards to the drowsy sky full of quivering stars, tipsy on the desire he’s obsessed with awakening in you while being tipsy just the same. The smile rising on your lips when he asked: “Show me how you’re gonna dance for me.” The way you moved your hips in such a silly way that squeezed his heart until it was difficult to breathe.

He’s fucked. Knows he is. Has known it for a while now.

You’re the origin of the chaos within his mind. The body of it itself. He has a teeny-tiny version of you in his mind that lives there, and lives there well because he feeds her, brushes her hair and gives her kisses, despite the storm.

He could never tell you—how much he thinks about you daily.

To a certain extent, he almost did the last time you came around, in a frenzy of sensuality and pent-up desire that consumed him. Prayed you didn’t see it for the way it really was.

It’s not just lust, and it’s more than just a friendship.

He figured as much—doesn’t have any fucking idea what to do with it.

Not a single one. Especially not when you pucker your lips at him and screw the applicator back into the tube.

He doesn’t want to lose you. Doesn’t ever want to lose the sight of that pucker of yours. And he fears that if he tells you of his weakness for you, he might never see it again.

So, he opts to keep things safe, keep things casual. That is until he eventually bursts.

That’s another promise, too.

He pulls on one of your strands. Your head knocks back, eyes wide at the audacity of it all. He laughs at your reaction.

“Can you stop?”

Jungkook does it again just to see the shock written over your face, full on belly laughing.

“What the fuck?” You slap his shoulder, the impact so small he barely feels it. “You want me to pull your hair, too?”

He grabs his stomach. “No, what I want to know is what you wanna drink.”

You purse your lips in feigned anger, fingers outstretched by the back of his head to play-pull his hair or perhaps slap him into oblivion. If you could manage it.

He doesn’t think you could.

He goes around you to sit beside you on the bar stool, studying the bottles of liquor his hyung bought. Is ignorant to the way you’re studying him, to the way the corners of your mouth lift ever so slightly at the discovery of the current situation in his intimate parts.

Pulls out one to acknowledge himself with it. Asks you if you wanna drink it.

You don’t say anything.

When Jungkook lifts his eyes to scold you for not paying attention, all the words get hitched in his throat. You’re grinning from ear to ear. All those damned words are forgotten immediately.

“Are you hard?” you whisper, flushed at the face, glossy eyes glimmering, ever so excited about your discovery.

He feels himself twitch. Hides it by cupping himself discreetly.

Averts his eyes. “I’m always hard around you,” he mutters, twisting the bottle open. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

He doesn’t look at you when he pours you a shot, but he focuses on the way your breathing gains speed. Fights the smile threatening his lips caused by how easy it is to provoke you.

“You wanna get out of here?”

You’re hasty as you ask, looking around you, inspecting which room you could use to drag him into and relieve him of his problem, but he assures you it’s no problem at all with a curt shake of his head.

Strangely, he found a way to like the tension in his pants. Thinks it digs deep into the depth of the moment—simply makes it more exciting.

“We just got here,” Jungkook says flatly, screwing the lid back on. “Don’t be rude.”

He filled your shot to the brim not necessarily with the intention to make you drunk as fast as he can, but to watch your eyes widen the way they do so sweetly. And you don’t disappoint him at all when you do just that, the smile on your lips blossoming still. An aura of shyness envelops you in softness due to his disapproving words and Jungkook realizes he grazed your submission by reprimanding you. While it magnifies his smugness, he feels a little bit bad for you. Knows how much it turns you on when his fatherliness looms out, but blames you for it nonetheless. You rouse it in him.

You may have never told him about your father wounds, but his instincts sensed it in you—sought it out like its own child and cradled it in his arms, promising to never let go.

Promise. There it is again.

He wants to spend the rest of his life promising you things. Doesn’t matter what. He just wants the security, the cord of trust, that you’ll be here; that you’ll be here for a long time. It truly doesn’t matter if he promises you things internally or outwardly.

Jungkook cups your chin. Wants to say something. Wants to reassure you that you can take the shot, encourage you a tiny bit. But what you say to him dries up his throat completely.

“You don’t want a blowie?”

Your words were a mere silky noise, but he heard you. Curled his fingers tight into fists in order not to bend you over the bar stool and take you right then and there in front of everyone.

Decides he will provoke you right back.

“You don’t want a lickie?” he murmurs, drawing close to you so you’re the only one who hears him. “You don’t want Daddy’s tongue on your little clit?”

You gasp and grip his knee, your legs intuitively spreading.

Jungkook skims his surroundings to see if anyone’s watching. When the coast is clear—people mindlessly mingling, having conversations—he hovers his lips against your ear, hand coming in between your legs, not to touch you but to cover you. Whispers, “or you don’t want Daddy’s tongue fucking you fast? Licking over your little ass? Hm, you don’t know how good that feels yet, do you?”

You’re holding in a sob—Jungkook sees it in the way your eyes and lips round, brows furrowing. He made you wet. Serves you right.

He pulls away to pour you a chaser. Asks which one you want.

You take a deep breath, flicking your hair back. “Coca cola,” you chirp, despite the deathly grip you have on his knee, perhaps to hold your sanity together, other fingers wrapping around the shot. Small, so fitting for an equally small glass.

Jungkook laughs. Loves it. Loves…

The realization, of what he almost granted access to within his system, strangles his heart. He hears nothing for a moment, not the music, not the tremor of his weak heart. Nothing.

A can of Coke waits for you behind the bar on the kitchen counter and before any thought flicks through his brain, Jungkook stands to his feet to fetch it for you—to get his blood pumping again so he can gain control of his senses. It scares him, the nothingness. Even his eyes fail to focus as he looks for the metallic red can he swore he saw hardly a minute ago. He feels a slap on his back and a familiar face, at last, comes into view.

Hobi.

The first thought that resurfaces is filled with thankfulness enveloping around that name, dispersed with tiny kisses of ‘you saved me, hyung’. Jungkook dives head-first into the offering hug of his savior, his senses returning to him like magnets attaching to metal. He takes in a deep breath as if he was under water and just came up for air.

“So glad to see you,” Hobi says, rubbing his back.

Jungkook squeezes his shoulder. Says something that doesn’t reflect what he truly wants to say, keeps up the small talk while burying under layers upon layers of mud the confession that he almost told himself he loved you.

Which reminds him that he didn’t introduce you.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Jungkook says, grabbing the can of Coke his eyesight is now clear enough to spot and an empty, tall glass for you. Guides his friend to where you’re sitting but what he sees almost makes him jump out of his own skin for the second time in the span of an hour—almost sobs tearfully at the unfortunate discovery.

A mop of dirty blonde curls shaking at the impact of his laughter as he whispers sweet nothing into the shell of your ear. He towers from behind you, compressing you in the muscly width of his half-barren chest. An electricity of anguish spasms down the course of Jungkook’s body, for in a flash he’s reminded of the way you towered above him just the same the last time. His sweat cools as you listen to him, a pang after pang of jealousy stinging him in his abdomen. He’s frozen on the spot—Hobi says something, but Jungkook can’t hear him—that is until you make a face of discomfort.

Jungkook sees red.

His heart slams hard against his chest, but he doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t feel its intention to break his ribcage.

The words unfurl out of his tight mouth before he can think them through. “Can I fucking help you?” he hisses through his teeth, setting the glass and the can down harshly. The noise makes you jump, which instantly drives him to regret his actions—and it puts an end to his rage.

He didn’t mean to scare you. Doesn’t want you to regard him this way.

The sudden softness welcomes his senses back with a gentle beckoning.

Lifting his eyes, the guy ignores the question. Whispers something again that forces you to pierce your stare into the fire that burns within Jungkook’s irises. Not the fire he let you see throughout the trajectory of your casual relationship, the blue, the dreamily sultry one.

The one that licks over his eyes is black. Pitch black. No sign of stars, no dots of reflection of light. Pure pitch black.

But you hold his gaze, unafraid of the darkness.

For a reason unknown to him, it ignites you with strength to shove raggedy Barbie Ken away. Your touch lingers on his chest for a mere second and is not as scorching as the bite of your words: “Yes, I’m here with him and I’m not interested in you. Go away.”

Jungkook doesn’t look at the guy. Doesn’t give two shits about the painful twists of his features as he staggers away. Forgets about Hobi; forgets about the questioning looks of strangers digging into his back. All he sees is you. All he hears is the sigh of relief once he’s gone. And Jungkook is hasty as he reaches for you, relieved himself—relieved that he didn’t have to fight the fucker and alter the trust you have in him—needing you close, needing to gain back his control. He’s almost smiling uncomfortably at the ridiculous twist of events, but then the tug of his mouth stills.

You slip out of his grasp and move past him.

There’s silence within Jungkook’s ribcage. Not one beat or flutter, not one kick.

Nothing.

***

Knocking back shots after shots, Jungkook remains silent. Doesn’t answer any of his hyung’s questions. Doesn’t look at any of the girls who sashay to Hobi’s thigh to chitchat. His gaze merely remains fixed on the empty glass of the chaser he never had the chance to pour you.

Your shot of the dark liquor is also left untouched.

It’s the twinge of pity he feels that gives the order to his feet to rise. Hobi grabs his arm, long fingers digging into the hard leather of his jacket. Jungkook doesn’t reciprocate his stare, despite its heavy energy. Keeps his head low instead.

“Give her more time,” Hobi says, lugging him down to a seated position but Jungkook untangles out of his grip.

Grabs a bottle of soju as he mutters, “half an hour is more than enough.”

He makes a way through the corridor towards the door you slinked into, the translucent bottle swinging by his jean-clothed thigh. Doesn’t knock on the wood, instead walks straight in as if he owned the place.

You’re sitting by the foot of the bed. The yellowness of the subdued bedside lamp drapes your sagged shoulders in gold, filtering through your hair that obscures your face. You had taken off your shoes and they lie crooked and alone by your stocking-clad feet. Jungkook wonders if that’s how you feel.

His weakness caused by the unfortunate events and the sadness engulfing you stops him from moving a step closer to you as he beholds your puny form, but Jungkook fights it—fights for you. He needs to be in control. Of his own body and emotions, no matter how strenuous he finds it. He needs to be strong—and he needs to be strong for you to make things right.

He clicks the door shut behind him. As he walks towards you, he opens the bottle of soju with the firmness of his phone and takes a long sip. Settles in between your legs on the ground, crossing his legs at the ankles. Probs you on the calf to make his presence known to you, cooing your name.

You sniff your nose, gathering your hair to the side, curling the shorter pieces behind your ear. Your face glistens from the rivers of tears he wasn’t there to wipe away, cheeks flushed from all the onrush of emotions that wasn’t of the coy or sensuous kind he likes so much. The hard stone of his heart cracks at your broken countenance and the back and forth swipe of his fingers on the nylon of your stocking grows more tender the more he takes in your sadness. He wishes to inhale it, rid you of it once and for all. Thinks it doesn’t belong to you. Wants to fight the guy, make you laugh—make a fool out of himself—and make love to you. Wants all of those things at the same time, but he realizes he can’t tear himself apart.

He decides being here is enough. He can fix whatever has been broken here in Hobi’s room.

“This is so fucked up, Jungkook.”

You’re the first one to break the silence and it takes a slight weight off of his shoulders. Jungkook hums, prompts you to speak further on what hurts your heart. Wraps his entire hand around the muscle of your calf, thumb tracing figures of eight on your skin.

The warmth helps you look him in the eye, but you don’t say anything else.

Jungkook figures it’s his turn.

“I wouldn’t let him touch you,” he says softly, hand drifting down to cradle the heel of your lifted foot. You’re mine, he doesn’t add.

Your mouth rounds once again in a wave of emotion that clutches you. You don’t let the tears fall, looking up to the ceiling so the little pearls don’t trickle out of your tear ducts. Jungkook notices puffy marks of darkness under your bottom lashes, where he swore he saw thin pathways of glitter, small shooting stars traveling around the globe of your eyes. They’re nowhere to be found now, you’ve rubbed them away.

“I know, it’s not about that.” You sniff, hands hooking under the hem of your skirt just to have something to hold onto, to busy your fingers a little—as if he wasn’t right there. “I think I kinda get you know.”

Jungkook makes a sound that asks you to enlighten him, taking a swig of the sweet liquor to aid him in forgetting what he didn’t say. But the more he drinks, the more he remembers—the more his feelings splutter to life. It’s like he didn’t drink a drop at all.

“I never understood why you need to be in control all the time,” you start, fixing your gaze on his. “But I finally did when that guy had his arms around me and wouldn’t let go. I wished I had even a small bit of control in that moment when I was alone. I hated feeling like I had to endure it when all I wanted to do was run away.” You break apart at your last words and Jungkook’s world crumbles in his hands.

There’s chaos in his mind. A chaos of selfish nature that wants to prove you wrong because no, he doesn’t have any control when it comes to you, when you’re dressed, perfect and broken altogether. He doesn’t have shit—he’s nothing. A complete mess. And perhaps it’s his bruised heart that acts out despite this self-pitying mayhem grappling him, shutting it out into eternal darkness, for Jungkook doesn’t even know how he does it when he pulls you down onto his lap by a careful drag of your legs and encases you within the heated snugness of his arms.

He doesn’t even understand his own words when he says, “You can take all of mine. It’s yours.”

Jungkook doesn’t care about anything at all because when you start to sob into his shoulders, he breaks along with you—bursts at the seams completely.

“I know you were scared, but that won’t happen again. Not when I give you all of my control.” His words are smooth amidst the stream of his liquid emotions and Jungkook is glad for it—glad to be a pillar you can lean on. He imagines transferring all of his being, not just his control, to you like a blanket draping around your shoulders, so the situation never happens again.

His tears soak your hair strands and they carry his sorrowful kiss to the crook of your neck. He doesn’t want to utter a sound, wants to remain strong, but his heavy exhales betray him, wafting against you as he tightens his grip around your violently shuddering body in effort to soothe it. Considers this moment to be yours alone, doesn’t want to be selfish. Wants to be there for you.

“You helped me when I saw you,” you say against his skin, the sound muffled but he hears you—tightens his lips in a firm line in order not to wail. “When I saw that you were there, I was strong enough to push him away. You were my backup, Jungkook.”

He agrees with a soft sound, rocking you back and forth as he cradles you. Leans his head against the side of yours, shielding you from the world and its wickedness.

Your cries quieten. “But I want to be strong even when you’re not there.”

Jungkook strokes your hair, understands you even when it pains him—his attachment to you pulled so taut he fears it’ll break. “You’re strong now. I gave you my control, didn’t I?”

To his surprise, you nod.

After you pull away to breathe and Jungkook sweeps your tears away with his thumb, he’s smothered with the reminder that he made a promise to himself—a promise that is on the brink of being fulfilled.

The walls close in on him, but he doesn’t care. He promised to keep things casual until he bursts. He refuses to go another day pretending you’re just a friend he feels nothing for. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the heavily charged emotions that make the decision for him, but he simply doesn’t care about the outcome anymore. The truth has to come out into the light.

Jungkook calls you by your name. Brushes your hair back so he can look properly in the faded lush of your eyes; cradles your face in his hands like that. You call him by his name as well, whispering it into the shadows of the room. Such a soft, silky sound that puts pink plasters over the cracks in his heart. He says your name in the same intonation just to get a taste of liberty.

“I’m yours,” he confesses, a lump forming in his throat, and he’s too late to blink the tears away. “I’ve been yours since the day I met you; since the moment you laid your hands on me. Yours for the taking. My heart, my control—it’s all yours.”

The bridge constricting his throat collapses when you give him a look of endearment, your features softening, rounding in emotion. Jungkook watches as a tear rolls down your cheek; feels an identical one going down the same path on his own skin, fiery and hot.

“I’m sorry.” He breaks into sobs—and break, break, break is all he does. “I’m sorry if you wanted to stay casual, but I can’t… and-and I can’t let you go. I can’t let anyone else have you.”

You bunch the material of his wife-beater in your fists under his jacket, mewling tender weeping sounds. Jungkook bites his lip to prevent himself from spilling in your hands, needing you to say something, anything, so he can straighten his back and call it a night. You bury your head in his chest and Jungkook lulls you to calmness while needing it himself. He suddenly feels alone. Alone and crooked like your shoes, as if he said the wrong thing, as if he didn’t deserve any reassurement, any love for what he just did—

You mumble something into his skin.

His heart jumps.

“I didn’t catch that, baby.”

You lift your head, clutching the sides of his neck. “I like you, too, Jungkook.”

Your words tell him a lot of things.

He didn’t make a mistake tonight. He didn’t do anything bad, didn’t lose you for the rest of his life. He will see that pucker of yours for the months to come, your glitter and all your shooting stars will be there to guide him home.

And the other thing is—he fell for you first. Because while you like him, he absolutely and irrevocably loves all of who you are.

He smiles at you, though. The bridge takes the heft on his shoulders along with it and disperses into nothingness. He wants to thank you. He wants to thank you for the kindness you expressed towards him, for your hands that hold him. And he does by kissing you, by inhaling you, taking away all your sadness and the bad events that caused it.

“You mean a lot to me,” you say against his lips, pretty wet eyelashes fluttering. Jungkook feels their dewiness; wants to feel yours, too. There’s a pout to his mouth as he listens to you. “You changed my life. You make it better.” He nods at your words, senses them opening a window in his heart to let the fresh air in. “I don’t ever wanna lose you, Gguk. You’re too important.”

He almost says it. Those three words. But he keeps them stored within the now brisk chamber of his heart, full of spring. Flowers grow, in place of the plasters.

Jungkook caresses your cheek. “I want to make you forget.”

You beam at him—and there he feels it, the pulse of his heart, its song and its steady, balmy notes.

“Make me forget about tonight, please.”

He kisses you, adds in a million tiny pecks in between, sliding his tongue inside your mouth in brief greeting. His fingers blindly find the bottle of Soju and when he withdraws with a pop, he presents it to you.

“Look at what I got you,” Jungkook says, chuckling.

You wrap your hand around his on the bottle and he tips it to your mouth, helping you drink it. You widen your eyes at him when he wants you to drink more than you do, and he lowers his hand with a grin. Loves those eyes of yours. Loves your mouth as he wipes it clean with his thumb.

It’s lighthearted, the state of his emotions. He had tasted liberty by fondly mimicking your intonation, but now it courses through his veins, now it’s his. He feels so very glad to be alive at this moment and he wants to celebrate in the only way he knows he can.

“I got you another thing as well, but it’s back home,” Jungkook says. “I can’t drive but we can take an Uber.”

“Let’s go.”

Jungkook straps your heels, fixes your skirt and swipes his thumbs under your eyes to rid you of black mascara stains. Offering you his hand, you take his pinky and ring finger and he leads you out of the room with you following behind. He skims the living room to find Hobi but, again, he’s nowhere in sight until you tap his shoulder and point to the right side of the corridor. Hobi is rising to his feet from sitting on the stairs. The thought of his hyung staying around for him instead of enjoying the party squeezes his heart in gratitude. He hugs him and when it’s your turn to say your goodbye, Hobi pulls you in for a hug as well, rubbing your back as he asks you if you’re okay.

The soju remains in your hand. Sitting on the curb outside, both of you finish it while waiting to be picked up with Jungkook’s hand on your thigh and rough kisses shared in between. The wind doesn’t dare to disturb the intimacy, but watches on with a fond care, the stars hanging low, peeking through to witness at least one good thing of the night.

***

“If this breaks me out, I’m gonna kill you.”

Jungkook is carefully tender as he drags the makeup wipe along the perimeters of your cheeks, scowling at the sun-filled tint coloring the whiteness of the wet cloth. He had spent half an hour choosing the right brand in the drugstore earlier in the morning because he decided you were going to sleep over without telling you, reading each small letter on the packaging, despite the fact he understood shit.

You’re still clothed and so is he, resting in the middle of the comfort of his bed as he hovers above you, knees perched at the foot of the bed. The aching ball of your own foot grazes the bulge in his intimate parts and Jungkook himself is at wonder how he’s able to focus when it stimulates all of his senses, adding heat to his body.

“It’s Korean, it won’t break you out,” he mutters, swiping along the underside of your eye with extra care.

“I once had a toner that—”

Jungkook covers your mouth with his palm. “It’s Korean,” he whispers, furrowing his brows at you.

You giggle and he drops his glower, beaming down at you.

“You know I can do it myself. I’m not that drunk.”

He focuses on your forehead now, cleaning off your foundation and all those sparkles.

“I know you can, but let me.”

You babble on and Jungkook decides he’s had enough of it. He clicks his tongue. “I’m gonna shut you up.”

He dumps the makeup wipe on your face and rummages through his bedside drawer. While you use it to cleanse off your neck, Jungkook spoils your surprise and opens your present. Is discreet as he smuggles it between your legs, pressing it against your clothed clit.

The soft vibrations spread throughout his whole hand. He increases the intensity.

You freeze, flicking your eyes to his, makeup wipe long forgotten. You roll your hips against the toy.

“Oh my god.”

Serves you fucking right.

“Keep talking,” Jungkook mutters. “Hm, keep fucking talking and dare to come.”

It’s maniacal, his laugh, but gentle and amorous in nature because he fucking loves you, loves to tease you, loves to make you feel good—show your body new things that it willingly accepts. You wiggle your hips, chasing the pleasure, mouth fallen open, emitting tiny satiny legato whimpers, which cause his cock to twitch in his pants—so much that he begins to move the purple toy all around your femininity while palming himself. He notices your lack of babbling.

“What’s wrong?” he asks in feigned sympathy. “You suddenly have nothing to say?”

You smile at him, and it stops everything. The roleplay of his mean dominance, the vibrations buzzing his hand. He turns the toy off and is straightforward as he says, “undress.”

Does so himself.

He takes off his leather jacket and unbuttons his pants; watches you as you drag the skirt down those hips he wants nothing more than to kiss and hold in his hands. When it pools around your knees, he chucks the material behind him. You hook your thumbs beneath the waistband of your stockings and Jungkook thinks about how he’d like to tear them apart and make you lose your mind through the hole he’d create as he strokes the outer side of your thigh. He wanted to be gentle with you tonight, but he just can’t help it.

You rouse it him and he just listens.

His hands are quick as they rip a hole above the center of your rosily pink panties. He smirks at your shocked gasp, so short and dry, drawing close to your pussy, kissing her, nuzzling his face in her. The tension in his intimate parts is almost unbearable when you run your hands through his hair and incite him to do more. He licks over the tiny wet spot on the frail material that he’s the artist of, adding to it, and watches the roll of your eyes because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. It’s a dance what your hips do, the most unkind torture and he longs to squeeze them.

He’s a good boy when it comes to listening to his body’s desires.

Making a way through the beige hole, ripping it further in the process, he grabs the supple skin, thumbs fondling over your hip bones. So small, so delicious. Jungkook licks his lips, pushes your underwear to the side to reveal your dewy little seashell—fixes it so it stays put. Looks up at you. “Top off. I wanna see those pretty tits.”

You’re a good girl, too, when it comes to obeying his wishes.

A praiseful coo ripples out of his mouth once you reveal your black padded bra. Jungkook decides he wants it to be in line of his sight, so he lowers the straps down your arms and merely tugs the undergarment below your breasts. The spillage and the ripple of their fullness almost makes him die right then and there. Jungkook bites his bottom lip until he draws blood.

Two hindrances. The silky straps on your arms, the stockings he will soon lower down your thighs. Jungkook curses under his breath; thinks he should’ve gotten the ropes he was eyeing after his drugstore run. Pink and rough, just the kind you would’ve liked.

Perhaps it isn’t needed for the lovemaking he longs for with you. Playtime and lovemaking are two different things, he concludes.

He’s so horny he might lose his mind first. And he does—with nose pressed against your sternum, babbling nonsense while he buries his head in your tits. Inhaling your vanilla and tuberose scent, he kisses the valley leading up to the peak of your stiffened nub, trails it with his tongue, goes the extra mile to suck it into his mouth, hearing its call. He’s just listening—listening to your body language that asks for him. His eyes are blurry when he gazes at you. You’ve fled to the pink planet again, but he wants you here with him. While he flicks your nipple with his nimble tongue, he grabs your face and squishes your cheeks. Would die for your adorableness. Would go to war for it, a thousand times over.

Jungkook sucks the nub to make your travel back to Earth faster and he accomplishes what he wants. With a roll of your body and a moan, you’re back, looking down at him, cradling him, brushing his hair back. He makes sure you see the way he toys with your nipple—keeps his mouth open as he circles it, flicks it before he sucks it back inside.

“Stay here with me,” Jungkook mumbles, switching to the other nipple. “Please.”

You nod, grinding your hips against his stomach. Another call. Your hands slide lower to his neck and Jungkook understands you want more.

“Take control of me, baby,” he says. “Flip me over.”

Your breath is shaky. A light flickers in your eyes, glints like his saliva adorning your nipple in the yellow dimness of the room. You grab a hold of his neck with your one hand like he does to you every time while the other comes around his shoulder and you push him to his back in one swift motion.

Jungkook feels proud. You learn well from him. So studious, so smart, so cute.

You straddle his hips and Jungkook begins to trace your thighs, fingertips gliding back and forth on the nylon, until he grips your hips—and grips them hard. He forces you down on the bulge of his cock, hissing at the pleasure rising up his abdomen. He feels your dewiness against the material of his boxers soaking it through. He guides your hips in a steady but firm rhythm and once you familiarize yourself with it and hump him on your own, he brushes his fingers across your wet nipples. The sensation sends you toppling back, spine arched as you ride him like you rode his Hello Kitty plushie, but Jungkook keeps his fingers on those two little nubs. Your tits bounce and slap against each other and he just follows their movement, squeezing, grazing, leading you to the burst of your climax. When he lets go, you lower your body enough for him to nuzzle his face in them, moving you to the tip of his cock that peeks out of his boxers. The contact of your little soaked clit with his oozing arousal makes Jungkook moan into your skin, and he feels his balls tighten.

He lets you know by squeezing your arm, as if his furrowed brows, flushed face and the planes of his forehead shining in a layer of sweat weren’t indicating the matter enough.

You enjoy every second of the torment you bestow upon him, back upright now, fingertip playing with his navel.

Even more so as you flip around and ride him reverse cowgirl style, the nylon of your stockings stretched taut over your ass. Jungkook feels faint.

You’re wearing a thong that is but a thin fabric and would cover absolutely nothing if it were in its right place. He can see your little puckered hole that he’s very hungry for, starved actually, with each backward movement you make. He yanks his boxers down, granting you access to paint his manhood with the loveliness of your shiny dewiness. Grunts at the sloppiness of your flesh gliding back and forth as you toy with his ballsack. On the top of his cock, your juices mix with his—creating a pretty, pretty palette.

The way your pussy lips barely wrap around his girth, your little breaths and sobs—Jungkook can’t take it. White flashes in his eyesight, the build up of his orgasm nearing the end.

“You feel so good,” you murmur, flicking your hair behind your shoulders as you arch your back, your hair like a waterfall cascading down your spine.

Jungkook pulls on it, halting your torture. “You’re gonna make me come,” he purrs. “What a waste that would be—for me to come all over my pants like a teenager when your cunnie is right here.”

He rips your stocking further to reveal more of your ass. Pushes you towards his face until you’re sitting on it and—

He devours you.

You cry out. The sound propels him to tighten his grip around the small of your back, to quicken the shakes of his head while his tongue stimulates your engorged clit, occasionally flicking against the muscle to hear more of your little noises. Your palm feels up his wet shaft and Jungkook rewards you for being such a good girl that thinks of her Daddy by taking your bundle between his lips and sucking it. Your body quivers, plays tag with his tongue and Jungkook growls, your taste the sweetest thing he’s had all week and he can’t get enough. Needs more, needs…

“Fuck yourself on my tongue.”

He guides you. Spanks you when you find him. And the sobs you let out, interlaced with the naughtiest of whimpers, make him ache. Your walls press against him—stars fill his vision—and he can’t breathe. Needs you to come, needs a release himself, needs to taste your tiny hole that has never been touched before.

His hand extends for the purple toy, keeping it on the low setting. He presses it against your clit and the way you tighten around him lets him know you’re soaring; mere seconds away from ascending fully to the pearly gates.

Jungkook lets you reach your climax on your own, even though his hands itch to grab you and invigorate your thrusts. He wants you to have full control; wants you to get a heady taste of that liberty.

Wants you to get used to it.

You slow down your movement and Jungkook hears your cry first before your body begins to convulse. He holds you through your orgasm whilst he rubs the vibrator all over your clit and is ever so fucking mesmerized when he catches your pussy drooling and clenching.

He aches—aches badly to be inside of you.

Ridding you entirely of the mere cobwebs that your stockings have become, Jungkook holds your panties in place. His tongue darts out to swipe at your trickling hole, drags it past your skin across the other hole he’s yearning for. He feels you clench; he hears the litany of your incoherent words as you take in the new pleasure. He doesn’t touch your clit—he knows how sensitive it is after such an intense orgasm, so he just drags his tongue up and down both of your holes, swirling around the tight entrance.

When he penetrates you there, you scream.

You scream a bunch of yes’ in a row and Jungkook imagines your eyes are rolling back like they always are—imagines a grin on that fucked-out face of yours, eyelashes fluttering and wet with liquid emotions. It drives him to drill his tongue there in faster staccatos, moaning against you; the entirety of his bloodstream flowing to his intimate parts. He’s so hard he might burst, length heavy and solid against his stomach, but it brings him a great deal of pleasure to have you open like this, to taste you in a place no one has ever touched before, to give you a new experience that you’ll remember for a long time and possibly beg him for again.

He sighs against you, drinking you to relax his jaw. Is drunk on the moment, probably enjoys it more than you do.

You begin riding his face and he just offers you his tongue. Lets you do whatever you want.

“Feels so fucking good, Jungkook, oh my god.”

You’re fast now and Jungkook feels proud of you. You’re taking charge, chasing your pleasure. His heart skips a beat when you want him in your ass again, and he willingly obliges, fucking you there until the tremor of your body signals him of the thunder of your approaching orgasm.

You come on his tongue violently. Shuddering, screaming, leaving his neck, mouth, chin and cheeks wet. Dewiness for tears—he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Turning around, you don’t let him breathe before you grab his face and kiss him, licking into his mouth, moaning at the taste of your own rich flavor. Jungkook reciprocates all of your kisses and swipes of your tongue, doesn’t try to dominate you but instead revels in the nasty kiss, bucking his hips against your heat. So slippery, so fleshy. He grunts into your mouth.

When Jungkook sees your blissed-out face, he grins at you. Is blissed-out himself. “How’s that?” he asks. “You have all of my control. All of it.”

Your voice is hoarse when you say, “so fucking amazing, thank you,” and grin down at him just the same.

Joy beats through his chest, illuminating him from within as if he had his own tapestry of the whole night sky right there above his heart.

You sink lower down his thighs and pepper kisses along the length of his sticky cock. The gesture moves him and he lets you stay there for a moment while he briefly ponders over how a paralyzing form of pain led him to such a pure, expanding joy that he feels right now.

Tears well up in his eyes.

“Come here,” Jungkook pleads and you lift your head like a puppy.

He decides that he doesn’t want any restrictions on your body anymore. Each move of his hand is calculated as he unclips your bra and tugs your stockings, along with your underwear, down your legs. Even his own clothes come off in a blink of an eye because all he wants is skin to skin contact, to be connected with you on the deepest, most raw level that there is.

There’s a bit of nervousness coating his voice when he asks you to ride him due to his vulnerability. And when he feels the beginning of you, your heat encompassing him like the warm wind he last had grazing his body in his summer childhood days, the tears that loom in his eyes rush out.

It feels like he’s back in those days, but only this time all things are made right. But he can’t lie his head down in that tall grass of his childhood and escape—not when you struggle to take him from the angle you’re not used to.

He doesn’t think he ever let you ride him. Not even once. He apprehends you don’t know how to go about it.

“I know it hurts from this angle, but you can take it,” he says, willing his voice to be smooth as if he wasn’t crying at all—is thankful for the dimness that obscures his vulnerability from you. “You’ve taken me before, you can do it. Relax for me, sweetheart.”

You clench around him, stay frozen on the spot, and Jungkook can’t see. Filmy vision, emotions hurling at him like an incoming surge of waves. But all of that takes a step back when you mewl a pained noise and let yourself fall on his chest, his cock only a quarter of the way in.

“I’m scared. It’s too sensitive, it hurts.”

You shift your hips so he slips out of you. Jungkook kisses your forehead, wraps an arm around you while the other travels further down, below the roundness of your cheeks. Makes sure you look at him as he says, “don’t be scared, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. There’s no rush. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you.”

He looks at you for a long while—recognizes only some of your features in the dark—and so do you whilst he lulls you into a state of serenity by humming a song his mother sang to him during those summer days, by petting your head ever so fondly. He never realized how broken his inner child truly was until you kiss his tears away—see them, alas—and the boy inside him leaps into the sun-breathed air of the past. Grows into a young man with a dream in his heart and pensive thoughts beneath the thick set of black hair. Transforms into an adult man with love for a dream instead, for all that has become of his ambitions is the desire to be loved, to be wanted.

Dream or desire, none of it matters now because all of it, in a strange way that heals him, intermingles with each exhale of your breath against his cheek—and with the inch you think you’re ready to take—all of it is fulfilled.

A dream come true. A desire gratified.

You’re his and he is yours. And he tells you.

You kiss him everywhere. Nose, cheeks, neck. Grab his bunny plushie and tuck him into the crook of his elbow. Jungkook holds onto him as you take another inch, other hand holding his shaft as you sink down little by little, stopping whenever it gets too much.

“You’ve always taken it so well,” he murmurs onto your pained expression, unable to take his eyes off of you. “I was made for you. It’s yours, baby. It’s yours. You can do whatever you want with it.”

You clench at his words and the noise that you squeak makes him grunt onto your lips.

“That’s right, baby. I’m so proud of you for trying to take me so well like this when your little pussy is so sensitive from my tongue. You deserve to be rewarded, don’t you?”

The smile blossoming on your mouth is dangerous with its coyness but confidence at the same time. He falls in love with you all over again, feels the tall grass of his childhood bending over his head, sifting through his hair.

“I’m doing it for you,” you say. “I want to make you feel good.”

A hum of appreciation. A kiss full of tongue. “Throw your hips back a little. Just like when we dance.”

He’s not fully sheathed inside of you, but he feels your gummy walls smothering the half of his length and it’s enough. He doesn’t want to hurt you by filling you to the brim—he’s heedful even as he guides your hips with his hands, rolling them back as if you were grinding against him. Both of you danced like that many times before and because you know the move, you’re comfortable once you latch onto his hands and lift them, intertwining your fingers with his, pinning them down onto the mattress. Your hips gain speed, bouncing on him as your chest lifts a little, hovers above him and the bunny in the middle of his stomach, and Jungkook doesn’t let himself feel pleasure until your eyes lid and turn to the ceiling.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good. You’re a fucking”—Jungkook whines at the impact of a distinct hard slam of your hips down on his—“pro. My little fucking pro. Doing so good for me.”

He’s losing it and it’s so quick. The change of energy in the room, the arousal rising like fine dust in the air. All because his words nourished you with confidence that blazes the atmosphere around the bed. It’s just you, him and bunny in this microcosm and Jungkook longs to hold onto the plushie. Feels so much like you when he’s the one in control; feels as though you’ve become one in this emotionally charged act. He can’t differentiate between himself and you anymore.

He’s simply become you because he loves you. Or has been you the whole time due to that very fact. Perhaps loving someone truly means becoming them because what you learn from them, what you mimic from them is perpetually yours.

An awareness of how tired you must be drifts across his mind. He knows that with each excellent performance comes the burning of the muscles so without thinking twice, he maneuvers you to his favorite position—remaining on his lap with your back against his chest and bunny stacked on top of you. He takes the lead but lets you decide the pace. You’re the boss. “Fast or slow?”

“Fast.”

Jungkook hums, raising a brow. “Fast? Cunnie isn’t sensitive anymore?”

You shake your head ‘no’, propping an arm behind his neck. “I want it fast.”

It’s simultaneous—the deed of two hands, yours and his, grabbing a hold of the fluffy belly of the plushie, fingers traveling and interlocking without a thought, without a direction, and yet meeting. Like two shooting stars. Like the ones you wear under your bottom lashes.

One person. One mind, one heart.

Jungkook taps your belly button with the tip of his cock. You laugh softly. He remembers how wide your eyes were in fear when you sat upright on his lower stomach and could clearly see how far he reached inside of you.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He sinks his length into your warmth. The grass, the caress of the summer wind. You’re the personification of his childhood and Jungkook kisses you hard, tells you of it by the press of his lips on yours. Is ruthless as he ruts into you. His free hand clutches the vibrator and finds your clit under the small dangling legs of bunny. The low intensity is but a thrum, though by the gasps you emit, by the moans that rise in echoes within the atmosphere, he deduces it’s good.

Smugness returns, hand in hand with his control. He presses the toy harder against you, rubbing it side to side—and this time he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t stop fucking you.

Vigorous with strength, empowered by the free rein of his emotions that were accepted and loved, he pistons his hard cock into that tightness of yours, regardless whether you can handle it or not. Feels right at home, feels—

“Who’s your Daddy?” he questions without slowing down the rhythm of his brutal pace. “Who’s fucking you this good?”

You hum, licking your lips, and your confidence fucks with him, strips him bare of any sanity he had left. You give him the eyes, flick your tongue against his lips before you tilt your head to kiss him with a brief passion. “You are.”

Butterflies.

Jungkook drops the vibrator on the bed. Has to touch you, has to grip you—and he does. His hand finds your throat and he squeezes, kissing you with the same passion, prolonging it because what you did wasn’t fair. He needs the passion; he needs to swallow it down and feel it course down his body. And when you give him just that, along with your luscious moans, he rewards you.

Gives you all of his cock.

He rams himself into you, balls deep. Repeats it over and over, each thrust harder than the one before. Watches your irises disappear from your eyes, mouth agape, voice gone. Jungkook senses you’re leaving planet Earth again and he stops you.

“Is this Daddy of yours your boyfriend now?”

Like a bell, his heart is clanging and the freedom in that sentence losing its principle of ever being a risk causes his eyes to fill with tears again. He’s a mess. His emotions are a mess. But he’s so happy.

And the smile you give him due to that question—it charges him with the longing power to own it, own you, so he grabs you everywhere. Your chin, your cheeks, your mouth, and you never stop smiling, not even when you say, “he is my boyfriend now, you got a problem with that?”

The chuckle that rumbles out of his chest is a surprise to him because dizziness takes a hold of his entire being. He’s gone—he’s about to die. This is it.

He kisses you and the act of your lips wrapping around his makes this so much more real. He squeezes you and bunny in his arms, hips grinding his circles now. “Does it hurt when I’m this deep?” he murmurs.

“No, feels good.”

“Let me know if it starts hurting, alright?”

You nod, pecking him, gripping his hair.

Jungkook lets go of your hand and slowly lifts you up and down on the hardness of his cock from behind. You’re so light in his hands, like a little angel assigned to his side, just his to play with. You tip your head back, the smile of yours having bloomed into a full grin. Jungkook watches you in awe.

“Look at you riding me. You don’t need any help.”

You giggle. Jungkook feels his cheeks fire up. Thinks the sound is angelic, it must be. Thinks the squelch of your pussy taking him, leaving him dewy, is angelic, too.

It makes him stop playing with you and fuck you properly instead.

He sits up. Angles your head so your lips touch his, but he doesn’t kiss you. He wants you there so you swallow all of the words that will come off his tongue, so you remember them even when the delirium wears off.

He pounds into you.

You’re no longer smiling.

Takes the vibrator again. Provokes you, just because he can’t help it, by turning up the intensity and letting it only float above your clit, never letting it touch you. He’s not fast as he fucks you. On the contrary, his thrusts are hard.

Merciless.

He feels evil when he removes the toy completely, makes sure you watch, and presses it down into the softness between bunny’s legs. He turns your head back to face him and he mimics your moans, scrunches his features in pleasure, giving life to the plushie—acting for her.

But his meanness makes you come and you fall apart in his hands. He feels bad, terribly bad for you, and the feeling begins to consume his insides—so much that he gives you the pleasure he denied you mid climax. He presses the toy against your clit and—

You’re gone.

Your stream of pleasure forces him out of you and it makes him moan loudly. It makes him moan when he rubs the vibrator all over your absolutely drenched cunt and you just keep coming. And it makes him moan when you beg him to keep fucking you.

Who is he to say no to you?

“You just want it bad, don’t you?”

You nod against his head. Gone, gone, gone. He follows you into that rabbit hole, pounding you rough and fast this time, keeping you caged against him, fingers back in an intricate interlock. You smother him with your femininity and Jungkook is perpetually at wonder how you manage to do that, how you manage to never have enough. It makes him lose his fucking mind, lose everything—lose his identity. He just blurs into you. The stars in his chest pour like liquid into your ribcage. He feels them quivering when he touches your breasts all over. Wonders if you’ll come again for him.

“Pussy molded just for me, hm, isn’t it?” he breathes. Hot, sweaty, on the brink of insanity. White flashes. Balls tight. Dizziness stealing his senses. “Good little pussy, always wanting more.”

The air grows dense.

“Mine,” he growls, voice strained—so close, so fucking close. “My pussy. Mine to fuck. Mine to eat. Mine to love—”

His gut tenses. Flames burn it hot. Time stops. Knuckles turn ivory in the feverish grip of your fingers upon bunny’s tummy; your walls, too, splattered in magnificent white. Jungkook fucks his cum into you, once, twice, for the last time—pumping you full. Giving you all that he has.

He falls limp against his pillows. The toy buzzes on upon the comforter, long abandoned.

His exhaustion doesn’t let him open his eyes. Not when his eyes sting with tears once more, not even when your warmth leaves his manhood. He knows you didn’t come this time around, however he doesn’t have the strength to fix it. His vigor oozed out of him and nestled within you—like his control, like his love, like his cum.

He will make it up to you tomorrow morning.

Now he needs sleep. He needs the tears to halt their hurting by leaking out of the inner corners of his eyes. Would prefer if you weren’t the witness to it because with his vigor departing, his vulnerability heightened. He’s ashamed of the sea of his feelings, but there’s nothing he can do to change that. He just loves you.

He’s so happy that he’s yours and he fucked you so good and—

“You tired, baby?”

You sound just like him.

Jungkook suppresses his sob, swallows it right down.

“I’m spent.” Too emotional. “Too spent to wash up.”

He feels a kiss on his nose, the comforter lifting, small warm hands on his body as he’s being tucked into his bed. Jungkook lies on his side. Feels too lonely. As if you had insight into his soul, you settle into the spaces of his form that you know are there for you to hide in.

With a barrier in between.

You push bunny’s back against his chest. Click the lamp off.

In the darkness, Jungkook allows his lungs to expand in their silent weeping. Finds bunny, finds your arm. Moves you closer until the plushie serves like a heart in the middle of your bodies. Fingers petting your hair, he allows another thing—

“I love you.”

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httpdwaekki · 7 months ago

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tired | b.c.

summary: overwhelmed and exhuasted, you text your boyfriend to make you feel better.

wc: 793 | ss: 1

warnings: mentions of dissociation, exhuastion, and stress. nothing too crazy. the reader has a studio apartment. unedited.

a/n: once again self indulgent, shocker! just a lil drabble but i hope u guys like it and maybe even relate and find comfort in this. i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3.

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it was truly your breaking point.

you felt hopeless, stressed, beat down, and just tired. tired of your shitty job, your shitty apartment, your shitty desk everything. it felt like you had too much stuff and not enough space, literally.

the desk is what broke the dam though, your little $90 desk from amazon had bit it (shocking), the leg somehow become detached. the realization that not only did you have to pay for a new desk with money you didn’t have, but you have to figure out how to build it in your tiny little apartment.

you just couldn’t do it anymore, all you wanted to do was curl up in bed with your boyfriend and cry. which is exactly why you texted the aussie boy about 20 minutes ago. you had already changed into comfy clothes and were snuggled up under some soft blankets and plushies.

you dissociated as soon as you cocooned yourself, causing you to not hear the sound of keys or the lock turning. you saw the light pour in from the hallway outside, revealing chan, making him look like an angel, your savior.

once he took a step in, taking in your appearance, the dam broke once more. a pout present on your lips, hands out reached to the man in front of you. “channie.” you whimpered.

he made quick work of locking the door while kicking off his shoes, dropping his bag to the floor. “i’m here, i’m here.” he repeated as he made his way to you, pulling you to sit up as he sat down.

“come here sweetheart.” he wrapped his arms around you as you did him, shoving your face into his shoulder. your tears soak his jacket, but he couldn’t care less. all he cares about it making you feel better.

he keeps his arms wrapped around you, hands rubbing up and down your back, lightly scratching as he goes. he whispers sweet words to you, planting the occasional kiss to your hair. “you’re okay, i’ve got you.”

as your breathing evened out a bit, you pulled away, feeling even more tired from your emotional outburst. “i’m sorry, i just really needed you.” you fiddled with the blanket in your lap before he placed a gentle hand toy our cheek, lifting your head.

“baby, never apologize for reaching out when you need help, okay? i’m glad you texted me, that’s what i’m here for okay?” you feel your eyes fill with tears once more, nodding in agreement.

“hey now, that wasn’t supposed to make you cry.” he laughs slightly as you shake your head, wiping your tears before looking at him. “i just really love you.” you bring your hand up to his soft cheek, giving it a soft rub.

he turns his head to place a kiss to your palm. “i love you too, my baby.” he gives you a love sick smile, his dimples on full display. you mirror him before quickly moving to attack his face with kisses.

“yah!” he exclaims, laughing as you squish his cheeks, bringing him closer to you. “okay, okay come on, lets lay down.” his giggles die down as your attacks slow. you giggle before finally laying back, making grabby hands to him.

he quickly rounds your bed before lifting your blankets, opening his arms to you. you quickly slot yourself between his arms, relaxing into him, inhaling his scent.

“do you wanna talk about it?” he asks once you settle against him. you ponder his question for a moment. “can i tell you tomorrow?” you mumble, trace shapes against his chest.

“yeah, that’s okay, i just wanna know what’s going on and help.” you nod understanding his words, leaning up to places a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “thank you, i appreciate that.” he squeezes you tighter, placing a kiss to your temple.

“do you wanna watch lilo and stitch?” he asks before leaning over to grab the remote that was sitting on your bedside table. “yes please.” you hum, pulling the blanket over your shoulder, sinking furthermore into the aussie below you.

“comfy sweetheart?” he asks, glancing down at you as you give a slight nod. you yawn as you hear the opening music to hawaiian roller coaster ride, sleepily humming along as he wraps his arms around you once again.

“goodnight baby, i love you.” he places a final kiss on your temple, causing you to let out a content sigh. “goodnight channie, i love you too.” you mumble, pressing a kiss right above his heart.

and that’s exactly how you both stayed the rest of the night. cozy, watching your favorite comfort movie, wrapped in each others arms before the sleep welcomed you both with warm, open arms.

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crheativity · 1 year ago

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Hello how have u been I was wondering if I can request a slightly part 2 of the reader making the overblot squad cute little plushies so wha if the reader makes the plushies clothing and accessories like for vil’s plushie little fake makeup and same clothing he has sorry if my English is bad I’m still learning

SUMMARY: You decide to make the Overblot Squad’s plushies clothes! How do they react?

WARNINGS: None that I am aware of!

COMMENTS: Oh my GOSH this is such a cute idea!! And no worries Anon, your English is just fine :D I hope you enjoy it!!

Part one - Prefect making the Overblot Squad plushies of their respective Seven member - can be found here. Part three - their reactions when the plushies are stolen - can be found here.

You made his plushie some… clothes? He didn’t even know you could remove her current ones! He would never think to try something so scandalous on his own! Especially not with a plushy of the Queen of Hearts!! Ah, wait- he meant no disrespect! He just meant that he wouldn’t- uh… He’s just gonna stop talking now.

You have to show him how to change his plushy’s clothes – he refuses to figure it out on his own in case someone walks in – but once you show him it’s not like that, he’s more comfortable with it. He doesn’t change things around a lot – maybe whenever you make him a new one. He keeps them all safely in a box under his bed. Occasionally, he’ll take them out just to look at. Seeing them always makes him smile.

You decided to make the powerful, feared and mighty King of Beasts… a hat? And slippers? Hah, you got guts, Prefect. He’s gotta say, he respects it. Alright, he’ll indulge you. He’s slightly surprised at how small yet detailed the accessories are. There’s something slightly endearing about such small clothes… maybe that’s one of the reasons why people like children? Tch. He can’t relate.

Nonetheless, it’s amusing to him what kind of accessories you think of. He’s also not the type to change up the doll’s outfit a whole lot, but he’ll stash them all around his room. Much like the toy, they all smell of you. It’s starting to annoy the other Beastmen. Ruggie’s strongly considering having an intervention.

Prefect… these are adorable! Are you sure you don’t want to sell these? Ah, r-right. Please forgive him for forgetting they were for-... for his eyes only. Please stop looking at him and let him regain his composure. He absolutely loves them! He hopes you know how much of a friend the doll has become to him. He’s starting to tear up, you’re so kind. Give him a minute.

Azul has designated different clothes for different purposes. Before bed, he puts his doll in her pajamas. When he wakes up, he selects her outfit for the day and changes her into it. He does this almost ritualistically every day. Floyd and Jade have teased him for it, but surprisingly, Azul doesn’t seem to mind.

Oh? You made his Sorcerer of the Sands doll some different outfits? Pft– that’s so cute. He didn’t mean to laugh at you – he’s delighted, really! He just… can’t believe that you’d spend precious free time doing something like that. Hey, come on, he’s not judging you or anything, but free time is precious, right? You should spend it more on doing what you want to do. Still, though, he loves the clothes - and finds your cute little pout adorable.

He definitely keeps them with the doll. Whenever you make him new ones, he’ll pick up the doll and change the outfit. Otherwise, he’ll only change them a couple times every so often. This has given him an idea though. Maybe you’d like a doll too? Then you could match. Although, Ramshackle dorm doesn’t really have a mascot… maybe he could make you a ghost? Or a plushie of Grim?

(Didn’t he say that spending ‘precious free time’ doing something like ‘that’ was wasted? Point it out to him and he’ll get flustered and walk off in a huff. He will return with a plush and an apology for you two days later. He enjoyed making it a lot.)

You made his doll clothes?! He’s trying not to squeal like a teenage girl. He didn’t know that his doll could change clothes!! Oh, prefect, he loves you so much. He’s going to ask you to make so many clothes, you better be prepared for what you’re getting into!

He, like Azul, changes the clothes all the time and will often just sit down for like an hour and change the doll into perfect outfits. As you could probably guess, Vil LOVES using the doll to try out new looks. Whenever he’s designing an outfit or a piece of clothing, he always asks you to make a small version for him to try out on the doll. This helps him to be able to practise styling them and getting an idea of how the finished piece would look.

His favourite kind of outfit to ask for, however, is anything that reminds you of fashion from your homeworld.

You made his marketable plushie some marketable clothes?? Oh my gosh. That’s adorable. It’s so small! Looks like those itty bitty cutey kitty clothes– AH– ahem. you didn’t hear that. He definitely wasn’t just having a total fanboy moment. no siree… do you think you could make him an outfit from his favourite anime? that’d be cool, he guesses.

He’s DEFINITELY gonna make the little guy cosplay his favourite characters. Maybe that’d improve his gacha roles even more? Oh he is 100% down to help too. Any clothes that require metallic details he is WELDING that stuff together. It’s so cute how invested he gets in this. Ortho loves seeing his brother get so passionate about this too!

Malleus is DELIGHTED. He was not aware that his little friend could change outfits! How adorable! He loves you so much! He is this close to buying an actual, fully sized wardrobe just for them! …But Lilia talks him out of it. Actual, fully sized wardrobes take up a surprising amount of room. So, he ends up getting two, miniature wardrobes. Which fills about the same space. Lilia’s not sure his advice really worked.

Malleus will now dress up his dolls for tea parties, picnics, or whatever outings they decide to go on. He is constantly surprised and delighted by whatever you make him, although he’s not very good at suggesting ideas. One of the few ideas he came up with was fashionable about a hundred years ago and was a very complicated piece of clothing. However, when he received the outfit, he took great measure to ensure that no harm would ever come to it.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

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aisquaredchoco · 23 days ago

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Advent gifts out in the wild! Thank you everyone for participating!

To the ones who missed out the 12-day event, or just wanted to revisit the goodies, here's everything under one post. Enjoy! 🎅

More info below the cut..

🎄 DAY 1: 2to3 Kitchen & Bath "Tres Rugs by Sleek Sensations"

This rug actually has five presets (I said only four in the advent post *facepalm*), where one preset has only one channel, three have varying color channels, and another one that is not recolorable. Found in Decor > Rugs, costs §430.

🎄 DAY 2: Cozy Patio Table

I made this table using the legs from the "Deluxe Cozy Terrarium" from Outdoor Living, then put a glass top and voila! A cozy patio table. Five slots as with any 1x1 dining table with one channel. Found in Surfaces > Dining Tables, costs §200.

🎄 DAY 3: 4to3 Snowy Escape "Bamboo Forest Fence"

Yep, we are still lacking various fences in TS3, hence converting this gem from Snowy Escape. Three channels, costs §25. Found in Build mode > Fences.

🎄 DAY 4: 4to3 "RAW Utensil Holder"

For the clutter lovers, here's something for your kitchen, if you also love the industrial accents from TS4 like me. Four channels, costs §430, found in Decor > Sculptures, Misc.

🎄 DAY 5: 2to3 Kitchen & Bath "FaceBowl by Sleek Sensations"

This conversion took almost a year in the making and thought would never get finished, but here it is, finally ready to conquer your bathrooms! Four channels, costs §670, found in Plumbing > Sinks.

🎄 DAY 6: Outdoor Living "Class-E Dining Table" Unornated

I love the stuff from Outdoor Living, but why didn't EA make un-ornated versions of the furniture for variety? And so I did the work. Same channels and slots as the original, only differs in price which is now §825. Found in Surfaces > Dining tables. Outdoor Living not required.

🎄 DAY 7: 2to3 Apartment Life "BLOK Jr. Block from COGnition"

I miss the industrial/gearhead aesthetic from TS2:AL and this wall is one of those, so I converted it. Three channels, costs §11, found in Walls > Panelling.

🎄 DAY 8: Outdoor Living "The Poet's Respite" Unornated

Another un-ornated piece of furniture from Outdoor Living (I just couldn't stand the cursive elements sometimes @.@). Lowered the price to §300, everything else is left intact. Outdoor Living is also not required.

🎄 DAY 9: 2to3 Kitchen & Bath "Pots Descending from Ceiling"

I hate repeating myself, but yeah it's nostalgia that's the main reason why I convert 2to3 items. Especially from this stuff pack, I'd love to convert everything else left unconverted from it (but the counters stop me from doing so). Two channels, costs §160, found in Decor > Sculptures, Misc.

🎄 DAY 10: 4to3 Max20 Shark Plush Toy

I've been pondering if I should put this one up for download, because I couldn't find the original cc post to link. But having seen this 4to2 conversion, I figured I should also share it. Two channels, costs §100, found in Decor > Misc, Kids > Misc. Credits to Max20 for the original TS4 creation.

Fun fact: I own a real life counterpart of this plushie (I got this as a secret santa gift), and now my cat has already claimed it as his property. 🐱🦈

🎄 DAY 11: Ambitions "Le Sconce" made fully CAStable

I hate it when EA decides to make an object part unrecolorable when there are actually many ways to redesign it, like in this default replacement I did on a mirror. This wall lamp now has the emblem CAStable, and also edited the mask into three channels for a more versatile recolorability. This is a default replacement, so you need Ambitions for this to work properly.

🎄 DAY 12: 4to3 "The Centurion"

Need something to fill your dining room but too lazy to decorate it using shelves and clutter? Say no more! This pre-decorated hutch from TS4 is now also available for TS3! Three channels, costs a hefty §1880 (why EA?), found in Decor > Sculptures.

POLYCOUNT INFO:

Tres Rugs by Sleek Sensations: 80 (hLOD)

Cozy Patio Table: 526 (hLOD)/220 (mLOD)

Bamboo Forest Fence: 44 (main)/48 (diagonal)/12 (post)

RAW Utensil Holder: 250 (hLOD)/220 (mLOD)

FaceBowl by Sleek Sensations: 1356 (hLOD)/877 (mLOD)

Class-E Dining Table Unornated: 750 (hLOD)/257 (mLOD)

The Poet's Respite Unornated: 994 (hLOD)/360 (mLOD)

Pots Descending from Ceiling: 2122 (hLOD)/1190 (mLOD) (!!!)

Max20 Shark Plush Toy: 750 (hLOD)/444 (mLOD)

The Centurion: 420 (hLOD)/360 (mLOD)

DOWNLOAD FOLDER: Simfileshare | Mediafire

*All converted items contain catalog descriptions from their respective original games.

**I would also like to thank @simlicious for her wonderful selection of Christmas themed patterns, one of which I used on the wall in the previews, found here. Please check out her website if you haven't yet..

#ts3cc #download #dl:buy #dl:build #dl:defaults #sims 3 #ts3 #4to3 #2to3 #ts4 to ts3 #ts2 to ts3 #simblr #sims 3 cc finds

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httpseungmxn · 5 months ago

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Plushies

Quackity X Streamer!Female Reader

🍬 - fluffy

Authors Note: Hi there Angels, welcome back to another Quackity fic! I had some very sudden inspiration to write this fic and hardly any plans for it aside for that it continues off from the last one, so I’m just going for it! Hopefully it isn’t too bad and you guys can enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! <3

Warnings: slight bit of cussing because its Q and he is brushing off onto reader:p, reader is called “hermosa” again!

Triggers: None as far as I am aware!

Since your birthday stream last month, your streams have been constant and exciting. You figured when the birthday stream ended, everyone would unfollow and disappear, but they didn’t. People actually enjoyed the content you did, and thought the streams were fun to watch. It was the same way with Alex. You assumed he would just unfriend and move on with his life, but instead he was constantly inviting you to calls to stream with him.

You two were now known as the chaotic duo on twitch. You both were constantly causing chaos everywhere. Streams, calls, games, etc. How were you causing chaos? In minecraft, tnt and mobs were constantly being dropped by the both of you. It was just little things that erupted into big messy things.

Speak of the devil. Interrupting yet another one of your streams was Q who had a very specific ringtone that the fans knew. Declining the call to focus on the timed obby your doing, just to get another call from the boy.

“ Yes chat, that’s Q calling. This is like the fourth time since I started streaming. “

The chat was blowing up making comments about Alex being clingy and shipping the two of you together.

Finally deciding to answer the call when he called one las time.

“ Alex Quackity, if you cause me to lose this record, I will be coming for you next in the minecraft event. “

“ Its so rude to ignore me, ___, I’m your bestfriend! “

Letting out a snort at the slight whine in his words, knowing it was just a teasing thing. You focused back on your task while waiting for the man to speak up about what he called you for. He never did though. Instead he stayed eerily silent which was definitely not like him at all.

Letting out a yelp when he suddenly let out a scream.

“ alex, what the hell! “. Not getting a response but instead a notification that he had begun streaming as well to which you pulled it up on your phone. As soon as you caught sight of him, you busted out into laughter.

There he sat in his chair with a box in his right hand, staring at the camera with a deadpan, covered in little stuffed cats and bunnies. The look on his face would surely be later turned into a meme by one of his fans.

“ ___, care to explain ? “ , waiting for your giggles to calm down. Looking down at the toys covering his lap, before looking back up to the camera.

“ happy birthday? “ ,was all you could muster before you were laughing again.

“ my birthday isn’t till December! What am I gonna do with all of these! “, regretting the question as soon as he said it, because of what chat began saying next.

“ no chat! I am not using it as a personal body pillow! Don’t bring ___ into this! Shes in big trouble, chat! “.

Your laughing suddenly came to a stop at his words. Glad the chat can’t see you because you know they’d all be freaking out over how red your cheeks were. Letting out a soft cough and focusing back on the obby until you made it to the end. “ we did it chat! “.

“ ___, chat is wondering when you’ll do a face reveal “,

“ I’ll do a face reveal when you do a hair reveal “, “ so never? “. Letting out a soft laugh and shaking your head.

“ No, I’ll do one. I want to, just hadn’t really put two thoughts in it to be honest. I have a facecam attached to my computer. “, the dramatic gasp Alex let out had you giggling again.

“ you’ve been denying us from seeing your face, hermosa? Are you crazy? Let us see you! “, his nickname had you red all over again.

“ you guys really want to see? “, you knew you really didn’t have to ask that question because you already knew the answer both from chat and Alex, you just wanted to see the reactions. Feeling satisfied when both chats blew up, and Alex began to frantically nod his head.

“ well, okay, here we go. “, feeling nervous as you turned on the Facecam and looked to it, waving shyly at it as a greeting to them. Rubbing your hands gently on your thighs as you looked to the chat to read over reactions. Smiling brightly at all the compliments you were getting. You looked to alex’s stream to see his reaction and held yourself back from blushing when you noticed him just staring at you.

“ Earth to Alex, are you there? “

“ ____, why did you deny all of us this sight? You are absolutely stunning, hermosa! “, that brought out the blush. Thus forth causing chat to go wild over the interaction between you two. “ thank you, weirdo, now do you want to play a game with me? “.

“ yes! Lets play baddies “.

Somehow you knew that he was going to want to play that, but truthfully you didn’t mind. You would play anything right now if it turned the conversation to something else. You didn’t think you’d be able to live if Alex tried to have a whole conversation with chat over how pretty you were.

The both of you streamed together for about another hour and played together on facetime for another four hours. More than half of the time spent with him making comments denying him the sight and the other percentage was spent kicking his ass in Baddies. He didn’t seem to mind much and took the time to admire your beauty while you beat his avatar to his demise.

When you both were tired of gaming it was late. You both were exhausted but wanted to talk a while more. You didn’t mind staying on facetime so late, Alex made you feel comfortable. Comfortable enough to listen to his voice talking to you about streaming as you fell asleep. The facetime staying on the whole night with both of you sleeping peacefully.

This was the day you learned your feelings for Alex.

Authors ending note; Soo how was that? This one was definitely more lengthy than the last one and I didn’t really know how to format the talking so I just kind of made it work! Hopefully you guys enjoyed this one because it was really fun to write! Also this gif is going to be at the end of every q fic because its like hes cheering at me for finishing! Please let me know if you want more Quackity fics and send me in some asks! Until next time, My Angels 🫶

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cartersblogabtnothing · 1 month ago

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my friend and i were talking about plushies, so i had a thought about what kind of toys the bat boys would own:

bruce grew up being raised by alfred, who was a proper british man (probably idk) so i think he’d play with weird model trains and planes for no reason. thomas probably got him started on it, and it was probably one of the only things bruce and alfred really connected on. he still has them scattered around the cave or the house, but the kids assume they’re thomas’ and not bruce’s.

dick was a circus boy, so i’m a firm believer in the fact that he’d own homemade plushies or claw machine plushies and toys. cheap but durable, all of them are stained and disgusting but he keeps them around because they remind him of his mom and his dad. now, as an adult, he collects figurines. like funko pop’s! he has a collection in his main safe house in ‘haven and sometimes wally drops in to add a new one for fun.

jason didn’t have much growing up, so whatever he did have was dirty and falling apart because his father got it from the trash or it was found in some bag from the thrift store or a donation center. he specifically liked warhammer and dnd, they were cheap and no kid really liked either of them so he got new figurines and rulebooks to learn. he still has them to this day, but they’re just for display. he doesn’t collect any other toys outside of the ones the kids in the Alley give him, which he loves and adores just as much.

tim had everything growing up, being the kid of two archeologists with endless money would do that to a person. so, he grew up with the latest figurine or toy car or hammer — typical “boy” stuff his parents swore up and down their kid loved, even when he didn’t. he preferred the weird looking plushies he’d get from his nannie’s or drivers, he’d name them and give them genders and sometimes he’d talk to them and pretended they talked back to feel a little less alone. he still has the collection, and he still talks to them and remembers their names and genders he made up. sometimes he adds to the collection, sometimes he shares them. he loves his stuffies like he’d love his own child — like his parents should’ve loved him, but failed to.

(alternatively, i also think he’d get awful lego sets and spend hours taking them apart just to put them back together. it kept his brain and hands occupied so he couldn’t think about how alone he truly was.)

damian wasn’t allowed trivial things such as toys while under his grandfather’s thumb, let alone something of comfort like a stuffed animal or whatever it is drake keeps so close to his chest. the only toys damian was allowed were voodoo dolls that he still isn’t 100% sure were faulty or not. after moving in with his father, he was given more leeway with the things he enjoyed in his leisure time. he still thought toys were ridiculous, but after jon had won him an ugly looking unicorn stuffed animal… damian… opened up to the possibility of toys. he began collecting a very small amount of them, discreetly of course. then he found out about justice league action figures, and began collecting them too. discreetly. he couldn’t let the rest of the family know. that would be mortifying.

(they all know, but they’re far too scared of the possibility that damian might get rid of his toys if they mention it. he deserves to be a child for once and if that meant keeping their mouths shut, so be it.)

duke grew up on “the wrong side of the tracks” but his family wasn’t dirt poor. sometimes he got new toys when he didn’t need a new pair of shoes or his hair redone, but most of the time they were hand me downs or dirty action figures he found in Goodwill or sketchy thrift stores. he didn’t keep any of them, mainly because they fell apart within the year, but also because they were bittersweet to look at after what happened to his parents. now he prefers to collect things like merchandise rather than toys. things like shirts or keychains or posters. he has one or two mini figurines, but he doesn’t keep them on display. they’re just there. posters and stickers are his personal favorite because they’re not permanent, they can be moved and stuck around wherever he wished. he liked that. the control it gave him.

(the control he lacked over his parents, over what the joker did.)

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the-universal-sun · 2 months ago

Note

hi, if you don't mind could you write some fluff of regressed Stan receiving one of those alien plushies with paws?

Thank you and have a nice day

Okay so I did have to look up what you meant by Alien Plushie with paws, and yeah, they’re cute. And of course I don’t mind! I hope you enjoy it!

I’m sorry if this isn’t as fluffy as you imagined, I did have Stan go into a brief turmoil there, but it doesn’t last for long! I’m always open for helpful critiques in my comments and DMs!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Stan stared at the weird green thing.

The weird green thing stared back.

“Lee? How do you like it? I saw it at the fair, as I was walking around with the children when you were manning the Mystery Shack’s booth. It’s quite cute, right?” Sixer looked so excited about this stuffy that he was holding out, that Stan didn’t know how to tell him he doesn’t know what it is. Does it look soft? Yes of course, and it looks cute-not as cute as Poindexter and Shanklin 2, though. Stan looks up at his brother and signs “What”, pointing to the green thing in his brother’s hands.

“What is it? It’s an alien of course! Well, the human’s approximation of an alien. While there is a species of extraterrestrial that looks similar to this…” Stan tunes the rest of Sixer’s words out, he can’t understand them anyways, and focuses on the…alien stuffy? It’s big eyes are kind of scary, but he thinks he can get used to it. He grabs it while Ford talks and paces around the room, turning it around in his hands. It has paws! And little toe beans! Stan loves him already!

He hums lightly as he traces over the shapes of his new friends' paws. Where should he go at the table during their tea parties? Poindexter has to sit next to him, he gets upset when he’s sat beside someone other than Stan, and so does Shanklin 2. He could go beside Ford, but on which side? Stan can’t decide, he’ll have to play with all three of them to see who his new friend gets along with best. He’ll also have to name him, but what’s a good name for an alien stuffy with paws? Stan picks up Poindexter and Shanklin 2 from next to him, going over to his toy box in the corner of their room, digging through it to find some legos and doll sized furniture. He plops down and starts building houses with his legos, a different one for each stuffy, fit to match their personalities. Ford’s still walking around and talking, Stan looks back to check on him, he has a Journal out now and is flipping through it.

“It’s amazing to have observed the Convergent Evolution of the M’aacri’i and the Ensvolere’s of the planet Aegna VI in dimension 53-Alpha-” He’s lost Stan for sure now, the scientific names and processes getting lost and jumbled around in his head. He turns back around and continues to play with his stuffies, trying to figure out the perfect name for his new friend and who to sit him beside at the table. This is a tough process, Stan has to think about potential conflicts between his stuffies and the order being changed around now, and he has to give another one an equal amount of attention so he doesn’t feel left out and lonely-not that he’s complaining about his new friend. It’s frustrating Stan, leading him to whine and pull at his hair as he thinks about these things. He doesn’t want to think about these frustrating things anymore!

“Lee? Are you alright? What’s wrong, Bud?” Ford snaps him back out of his head, Stan didn’t even notice him stop talking and come over. His brother’s so cool, so sneaky. He gestures to his stuffies, including the Alien, and tries to make his shaky fingers sign a sentence, but only able to half sign a “friends”, “three”, and “hard”. “It’s hard for these three to be friends? Make friends?” Ford guesses wrong. Stan shakes his head, pointing at the stuffies and then shrugging, trying to convey his frustration with not knowing how these three will go with each other. It’s stupid. He feels stupid. He is stupid, finding such a stupid thing to get upset over-

“Hey! It’s okay, Lee, I think I get it. Please don’t hurt yourself.” Ford pulls down Stan’s hands which had started to beat against his head, “You’re having trouble figuring out if these three will be good friends, right? Well I’ve got the answer to that, of course they will be! You’re their best friend, and I know your stuffed animals love you.” Ford presses a kiss to Stan’s forehead, and he leans into it, relishing the contact with his favorite person and problem solver. He needs help with one more problem, where they sit at the table. He tries his best to sign this question, too, only getting out a barely legible “table” and “sit”.

“Where will they all sit at the table, hmmm? Well I think Shanklin 2 is just fine where he is, my right hand Opossum. Your new friend,” Ford waves to the Alien stuffy can sit on your right, where your teddy goes, and Poindexter can sit on your lap, is that alright?” Man, Stan’s brother was a genius! He never would have thought of that-well, not in this headspace anyways. His brother is so cool, he loves him so much! Stan nods his head in response to Ford’s answer to his most pressing problem, agreeing with his solution entirely. “That’s good! I’m glad I could help, Lee.” Ford takes a moment to smooth back Stan’s hair, his smile matching his Little brother’s right now. “Do you need help naming your new friend, or do you already have a very cool name picked out for him.” Stan nods his head again, of course he has a name! Silly, Sixer. That was the easiest part. He pauses for a few seconds, moving his tongue around in his mouth. He wants to try to say the name of the Alien, with his mouth. He deems his tongue to not be too thick to say one word right now. Stan opens his mouth, he can see Ford leaning in closer, a wide smile on his face and his chest puffing up the longer Stan waits to speak. Is he just excited to hear the name? Is Stan keeping him-what’s the word? Surpence? Suptense? Whatever, Ford obviously needs to hear the name before he explodes. Stan takes a breath and focuses really hard on not stuttering. Finally, he feels like he can speak good enough for this-

“Pickle.” Stan says, softly but as confident as he can manage his voice to sound right now.

He bursts out laughing, falling back in tears, as Ford’s face falls.

(Ford totally thought Stan was going to name the Alien Toy after him, let's be real. That’s the biggest reason he was excited about presenting it to Stan lol.)

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queenendless · 1 year ago

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👻🦇🎃 Spooky Lovin' (Various JJK ft Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Female!Reader) 🎃🦇👻

A/N: Just my headcannon on an imagined scenario with the JJK cast celebrating Halloween together and they're all A-OK and happy and 😭🤧❤️‍🩹 There are ships/pairings in this here and there plus the costumes I thought of for them all that took forever to think of! Spooky romantic fluff. Cause writing that vampire AU 18+ piece is ... hard.

Pairings: Yuji x Megumi, Nobara x Maki, Yuta x Rika with hints of Yuta x Toge, Kokichi x Miwa, Shoko x Utahime, Nanami x Haibara, Mai x Momo, Yuki x Choso, and Satoru x Suguru x Fem!Reader at the end.

All credit for JJK cast goes to Gege.

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

I hope you enjoy. And —

HAPPY HALLOWEEN~!

THE CAST'S HALLOWEEN ATTIRE!

🎃Yuji in a tiger onsie and his usual sneakers with black face paint on for the whiskers and the nose.

🎃Megumi as wolf boi with just a wolf ears headband on … he was willing to put those on for his Yuji bae and that's all you're getting.

🎃Nobara as OUAT Aurora with a sword because she is a cute badass.

🎃Maki as OUAT Mulan because I like her warrior armored suit. Blame the fanarts I've seen.

*Plus seeing fanart of those OUAT girls together made something click.

🎃Toge as the Mummy. Better that than automatically putting him in a sushi roll suit.

🎃Panda as Frankenstein's Monster. In the torn up black Frankenstein jacket, stitches painted on, Frankenstein bowler head wig, and bolts in the neck. It was either this or Killer bear.

🎃Yaga as Dr Frankenstein. Labcoat, gloves but with his shades still on. Makes perfect sense.

🎃Yuta as Bendy the Dancing Demon.

🎃Rika as Alice Angel

*They both start off cute then become quite terrifying but in the best way.

🎃Kokichi as Victor from The Corpse Bride.

🎃Miwa as Emily THE Corpse Bride.

🎃Nanami as Captain America cause I got the idea from @TimieTate on twitter. But he keeps said cap off. He'll keep the shield just to see the fanboy within faces Yu, Yuji and Ino come to life.

🎃Yu Haibara as Iron Man cause I like Stony and it all fits now. Also he used face paint to add in the beard goatee combo.

🎃Ino as a zombie with the usual horror makeup with green skin, bloody cuts, and he's a cutie wanting brains~

🎃Shoko as Sally

🎃Utahime as Genderbent Jack Skellington with a Zero plushie.

🎃Momo as Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Just the poofy velvety black dress, witch's hat, It was the broom's fault.

🎃Mai as Salem Saberhagen/Cat. It's just in a velour jumpsuit with an attached tail, layered choker necklace, cat ear headband, and ankle boots.

🎃Todo as a crossdressed Takada … cause why not.

🎃Choso as Netflix's Castlevania Dracula, with his hair loose to match. Also because of the whole blood thing.

🎃Yuki as Lisa Tepes also from Netflix's Castlevania cause they're both independent and stubborn and it just made sense to have them pair up.

🎃Riko as Wednesday Adams

🎃Kuroi as Morticia Adams

🎃Toji and Shiu as Sam and Dean Winchester. Just wearing leather jackets, rustic shirts, torn jeans and boots for the rugged look. Doesn't matter who's dressed as who. They can both make either roles work.

🎃Noritoshi Kamo as Hellsing's Alucard

🎃Junpei as Ash Williams. OG Classic. With detachable chainsaw toy hand.

🎃Nanako as Mitsuri Kanroji

🎃Mimiko as Nezuko

🎃Tsumiki as Shinobu

*They all got the wigs and custom made toy Nichirin swords. Also because Tsumiki and Shinobu share the same seiyuu. It was either her or Yor from SPY X FAMILY. Lord knows Gojo, Geto and Megumi would never want to see this girl in that kinda getup; overprotective they are.

🎃Mei as Disney OG Ursula. They both have white hair and do business with high rewarding profits. I had trouble figuring out a costume for Mei, okay!?

🎃Ui as a Flotsam Jetsam Mashup. Devoted brother/minion, so be it.

🎃Kusakabe as a Scarecrow. Apparently he's a fearful man that is courageous when it counts. It all fits.

🎃Akari Nitta as OG Disney Cinderella. Cause why not? It's cute!

🎃Ijichi as Zorro. Be a brave badass, my man!

*Those two are doing a callback to A Cinderella Story; the OG one, where Sam is Cindy and Carter is Zorro. Ergo, neither pair are couples.

🎃Arata Nitta as just a bedsheet ghost. He's timid as hell according to his wiki so there.

🎃Satoru as Wassup Ghostface

🎃Suguru as Viper Ghostface

🎃You as OG Ghostface

*Cause I gotta put my favorite horror character of all time in this and seeing fanart of them as Ghostface is a big turn on~! Plus Gojo gives Wassup vibes. And Viper looked so cool for Geto. And yes you be representing the OG!

🎃👻🦇 🎃 👻🦇🎃 👻🦇🎃👻🦇🎃👻🦇🎃

Fall has come.

Warm colored leaves whisking in the cold blowing winds.

And so much rambunctious chatter teemed the atmosphere.

The annual Halloween carnival fair has arrived.

"Fushiguro! Let's go on that ride next!" Yuji cheered enthusiastically as the pair rode the flaming pumpkin head shaped go bumper car.

"Fine fine! Just keep your eyes on the – ACK!" Megumi grabbed those mochi cheeks of Yuji's to make him face forward, both jerking forward as they got slammed in up front by another go cart.

"Itadori-kun! Eyes on the road!" Junpei laughed.

"You two can get it on later, ya know~" Ino teased, grinning, innuendo jokes going hard.

"Ino-san, please don't egg him on." Megumi grumbled, bashfully avoiding eye contact.

"If he wants to, sure." Yuji made it all seem so simple.

"WHAT!?" All three exclaimed in shock, startling the other drivers and passerby, earning him a hard yank on his tiger hood.

Mingling outside a food booth

"Mmm, umai~!" Nobara's eyes lit up with actual stars in them as she eyed her crepe with bat and spider sprinkles paired with chocolate sauce. "Delicious and Insta-worthy~! Maki-san, what do you think?"

She smacked her lips in afterthought, eyeing the"With the black and orange dyed cone, matching sherbert ice cream gave off that spooky pizzazz to put one in the festive mood "Not bad. Too much though."

"Hmm … then finding the best cammable sweets for Maki-san is our goal for this all Hallows Night!"

"Don't go overboard, baka." Maki bopped her on her crowned head, endearingly smiling. "Cause we're burning all this sugar in our workout tomorrow."

Nobara saluted. "Yes ma'am!"

From down the road, sitting at a mini table set up outside another food both, Mai scoffs at the sight. "Maki, what do you see in that girl?"

Giving heated glares to some passerby that were giving cat calls to Mai, Momo "Your envy is warranted but not tonight. Now have a spooky berry." Momo plopped a bloody frosted one from her decorated strawberry coffin into her partner's mouth.

"Out of all the people, she chose to date … her." Mai muffled through her full mouth.

"I heard that, you know." The Kyoto pair looked up to see Mai's twin and her bae standing there; Maki a bit facially irked whereas –

"We BOTH heard!" Nobara's seething face was too close for Mai's comfort; Maki restraining her from going feral, though Mai looked undisturbed.

Oh? I didn't see you there." Mai's false smile had Nobara shooting steam out of her nostrils.

"She means well." Momo; understanding Mai's protectiveness over her twin, just sat there and ate those berries away.

The baseball struck gold as the bottle tower collapsed with ease.

"Alright Nanami-san! Perfect aim as always!" Haibara cheered, clapping before pointing at the prize he wanted hanging above their heads. "How many prize booths does that make now?" Haibara beamed, arms full of stuffed toy prizes.

"This would be the fifth one. I believe we've reached a moderate amount at this point." Nanami stated, adjusting the strap keeping the star spangled shield on his back, as they walked off with their reward.

"Yeah. This is more than enough for my sister. Thank you. So here." Picking up his latest prize, he handed the Iron Man chibi doll to his beau. "As a token to remember this night."

Nanami was so taken back by the gesture. "Then you keeping this one would even things up." He plopped that Cap chibi plush right on Haibara's face.

Haibara nuzzled the Cap plush with his cheek. "I'll follow you to the ends of the Earth … Kento."

God, Nanami's heart was getting ready to burst right outta him! "Yu …" Looking straight ahead, he shyly blushed as he kept a hand on Yu's back just in case. "I'll never forget."

On a park bench, viewing the fair from across the way, the two ruggedly dressed drinking buddies were hogging the bench.

"You know spying is a bad look for you, Zen'in."

"Shut it. It's Fushiguro now, remember?" And yet, propped against the back of the bench, Toji kept glancing at his wolf eared teen son walking with his fellow sorcerer buddies through the festive grounds evidently content regardless if he was smiling or not.

"Just go say to your kids already, you big old wuss."

Downing some booze, Toji sighed. "Nah. It's better this way. Besides, his two new papas would kill me in cold blood if I got even close."

"You're actually pissed you didn't get invited to their group gathering." Shiu drolled, getting bonked in the back of the head by Toji's half empty bottle.

"Still though, nothing like a drink and a smoke outside to spend the night away." Shiu mused, smoke slipping through his lips.

Toji's semi bored eyes suddenly became focused as they trained on a former target that now alluded to his sights after slipping inside one of the many houses of horrors littered around the fair grounds.

Holding hands tightly, Riko and Kuroi jolted and squeaked among the many other costumed attendees from every jump scare triggered by the gory horrifying figures coming every which way.

"Riko-sama, it's okay if you don't want to keep going."

"No! I can be brave through this! Just to rub it in those two's smug ass faces! I can do this – mmph!" She bumped into someone's back amiss her self encouragement. Looking up into the blackest eyes of Count Choso who bluntly uttered.

"Boo."

Riko's terrified screams didn't startle Choso in the slightest as she flailed, losing balance, and falling into Kuroi's arms.

"Sorry about him, Amanai-chan. Just trying to get him in the spooky spirit is all." Yuki's head popped out from behind him, apologetically smiling.

"An incarnated object … in the flesh!" She was as terrified as she was astounded at being in his presence, especially when he punched a screeching animatronic that got too close for comfort.

"Another former Star Plasma Vessel." Choso pointed out dryly.

"I chose my own path going forward of my own free will, same as you. No need to be so blunt about it." Riko stuck her tongue out at the somewhat irked hybrid man.

"Riko-sama, let's get going. We're holding up the others behind us." Kuroi cautioned.

"Yes yes, we're wasting precious time here! The night is still young after all!~!" Not wanting to get kicked out and sued by those running the house, Yuki dragged those three out to the exit, barreling through puzzled exclaiming normies.

In a mock up Haunted Mansion ride, Kokichi stayed stiff but flustered as Miwa held his hand, hugged his arm, and cuddled up next to him in their automatic carriage seat for two.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" She curiously wanted to know.

He nods, fidgeting a bit. "And you?"

"Yes … I'm with you, after all." Miwa's genuine smile spoke volumes to how true she meant it.

"Good." He kissed her cheek all feather-like, earning a glow from her face before she peppered his face all with lipstick kisses, to his dopey smiling face.

"Oh my precious students!" That alerted the two as they spotted their sensei tearing up, to which her date used her Zero plush to pat away those tears.

"Just ignore us. We'll keep mingling with our brethren, that's all." Shoko waved to them, lounging in the fake graveyard setting.

"Not if we get kicked out over it!" Utahime panicked.

"Eh, no big deal." Shoko's usual apathetic shrug.

"You promised me you wouldn't act like THOSE TWO – MMPH!" Utahime got shushed by a smooch. Zero's nose lit up red, smooshed in between them, pouting as they parted. "You don't play fair."

Shoko rubbed her nose against Utahime's, mixing her faded blue powder with her white face powder, smiling proudly. "You make it too easy."

Outside, in a corn maze, Toge was looking ahead over the tops, carried on Panda's shoulders,

"Tsuna Tsuna."

"Go right?"

"Shake."

"Got it. Oh, Yuta, why must you leave us in your wake!? We barely see him anymore! Now he left us behind in this maze!" Panda dramatically tearfully shouted to the heavens.

"Mentaiko."

Turning this and that way, they finally found Yuta. On the hay covered ground. With Rika laying atop him.

"T–Toge! Panda! Uh … I can explain everything! I – It was just a slip –!" Yuta sweated bullets.

"He still cushioned my fall. You're always looking out for me, Yuta, my love~!" Rika gushed.

While he remained calm on the surface; that and his mouth was covered in wraps, Toge was irked at seeing his close friend being smothered by his lifelong love.

"If you two wanted to be alone, all you had to do was say so." Panda suggestively said.

"Uh, that's not – AH!" Getting pulled up to their feet, Yuta blushed at how intense Inumaki's gaze held him with such devotion. Ruffling his hair, Toge was now turning red from what those wraps didn't hide, Yuta laughed a bit at the cute sight, before Panda bear hugged them all. "I – I missed you all too!"

Leaning against the fenced borders of the exit, Kusakabe-sensei stood beside his fellow Scarecrow; a display maybe but still, staying steer clear of any unwarranted hassle.

"Kids … naively enjoying normalcy despite our true reality. As long as I don't get screwed over in the long run, I'm –!"

A clown faced balloon got thrusted in his face.

"Take one. Enjoy yourself. I mean it."

Principal Yaga, handing out spooky themed balloons to adorably costumed kids passing by with their parents, still noticed the somber fear in his eyes. Speaking of kids –

"Come on, uncle! Mom is waiting for us!"

Yaga smiled at seeing Atsuya being dragged off by his Batman dressed nephew, willing to let his guard down for the little guy, a bat shaped balloon in his small gloved hand.

Mei cackling as money rained the sky. "Thinking you can trick me out of my wits," Men with wounded pride crumbled around her. "Only to be treated to my heart's content." They should never have bet straight outta their wallets. "Now that's what I call the best treat ever~!" She was that good at the shooting ranges. And darts. And slamming the hammer to ring the bell.

"Nee-sama, on top, as always~! Perfection~!" Ui applauded in his own odd unsettling way that only his elder sister enjoyed as she laughed madly.

Noritoshi hoped Miwa and the girls' choice of costume for him wouldn't make him feel so … out of his comfort zone. And yet, the various fangirls that adored the character he portrayed had them taking him up on both sides, hugging him arms and giggling nonstop at how fine he looked. Guess letting his hair down and loose made the look really sell. Still …

"I cannot tell if this is better than dealing with curses … or worse."

Getting dragged off to God knows where, an overwhelmed Noritoshi passed the masked Ijichi-san who was mesmerized by Nitta-san as the princess she is inside and out, twirling on the bridge. "I'll make sure not to lose my glass slipper~!" She cheekily jokes.

"I'd gladly carry you should you ever lose them." Ijicji bravely offered.

"Oh thank you Ichiji-san, but I'll manage. Right, Anata?"

All she got from the tarp draped ghost of her teen brother was jerky nodding and an "Eep!"

"He's really shy. But that makes him that much more precious to me~!" She hugged her startled embarrassed tarp brother.

It brought tears to Ichiji's eyes, sniffling. "Ah sibling love … so pure!"

And for Todo. Yeah, a Takada-chan Halloween themed concert was happening nearby. And yes he got tickets to see her. Cross dressed as his #1. The man will wear it with the utmost unbridled pride and joy for his Takada-Chan. And he'd lose it seeing her dressed as the best half angel half devil in history. "Pure and forbidden to all … the perfect balance … that's my Takada-chan~" He'd be on Cloud 9 yall!

SNAP!

"Ooh, another one!" Nanko cheered.

FLASH.

"New pose time." Mimiko softly suggested.

CLICK!

"Okay, one more!" Tsumiki added.

Posing and taking photos with cosplayers of their fave online idols in their demon slayer outfits was too much fun for all those involved.

"PHOTO BOMB!"

A Wassup Ghostface popped up above Nanako's head. Followed by a Viper one appearing between Mimiko and Tsumiki's faces. Startling away their cosplaying acquaintances.

"Our own papas giving us heart attacks, unbelievable!" Nanako complained.

"It was a good scare, though." Mimiko clapped a bit.

"It made my heart jolt right out of my chest!" Tsumiki exclaimed.

"Huh? Where's Mama, though?" Nanako asked.

"She's missing." Mimiko noted.

"I thought you three would all arrive together." Tsumiki reminded them.

Gojo pulled up his mask to beam at them. "Not to worry, girls. The Mrs is fine. Quite fine, actually~" Gojo's purring tone at how fine you looked in your costume did not go unnoticed as the girls mock gagging into their hands.

Geto also pulled his mask up to peck their foreheads. "You girls keep having fun…not too much, though." Geto wanted the best for his girls too, but not around unsavory company.

"Yes, Geto-sama." The twins kissed his cheeks before dragging Tsumiki off to rendezvous with Megumi's group.

The big question.

Where are you in all this?

Photographing the moments, of course.

Entrapping these precious once in a lifetime memories.

Looking over them all from afar, your tender smile gave way to a wave of attachment as tears pricked your vision behind that mask.

This fragile tender peace amiss this cursed world was what you sought-after.

Swaying from the overflow of sentiment, empathy and affection you felt for this found family had you shaking in your actual costumed boots.

"Tell me …" You felt his cursed energy appear immediately, hovering right behind you. "What's your favorite scary movie?"

You felt giddy, butterflies flocking your nerves, smiling nervously underneath your mask. "This one." You pointed at yourself. "Duh." You giggled as he glomped you from behind, lifting your mask off to see your red cheeked beauty. "Lord forbid I wanna remember this night, digitally and soulfully. Doing group hangouts takes lots of planning, coordination and effort – AAH~!"

You squealed as Satoru lifted you up bridal style, spinning you around, marveling at your form highlighted by the moon while the fair lights made your e/c eyes sparkle like the universe laid in your gaze. Matching his Six Eyes perfectly, hypnotized by them as ever, as he kissed you openly.

"Heaven sent … you truly are." Tuffs of his snony bangs tickled your forehead and nose as his face beamed with pride and joy, unbridled love stretched from both ends of his wide smile, all for you.

"An angel for our depraved souls," Feeling those giant clothes hands cup your cheeks from behind, your toothy smile looked up to see Suguru sharing the same twitterpated expression.

"Ghosts having guardian angels … huh. Who'd have thought?" Your attempt at joking only made them give loud, slobbering, open mouthed smooches all over your face as you became a flailing giggling mess.

"Selfie time~!" Satoru chirped as he took tons of them with his phone, lots of laughs and kisses exchanged amongst the many goofy, creepy, and ecstatic faces you three made.

When midnight would soon be upon you all.

"Looks like we're right on schedule." Suguru mused as you three saw everyone that you personally invited eventually convening where the end of the fair grounds and the park meet, fairy lights hanging among, between, and around the tall hanging trees, various spooky tune favorites playing in the background to set the mood.

"Precisely." You threw the heavy ginormous bag you brought with you.

You popped it with the signature cursed energized finger gun.

It rained candy for all assembled.

While some – Yuji, Panda, Toge, Yuta, Rika, Junpei, Ino, Nobara, Miwa, Riko, Yu, Todo cause his lovely Takada-chan's concert had ended early, Nanako, Mimiko, Tsumiki, Satoru who yes scrambled over to get some too – clamored for every piece they could get their hands on.

Others – the adults at least – had restraint or not much interest.

As the fireworks went off to signal the end of the night, so much lively chatter bounced off everyone in animated mayhem, and you could only stand there and watch in amusement, content, and peace.

You wanted to freeze this moment. As well as many others. From back then to going forward.

This world – this reality – was something else.

You found more meaning, a sense of belonging, and heart in being here.

You would shape, bend and change it all to make it the kind of world you wanted it to be.

One where you could protect the smiles of those you feel attached to. Keeping this little slice of semi-normalcy intact, this somewhat safe haven of a life.

And should any curses wreak havoc upon the city – they will be most active on this night after all – this league of sorcerers would exorcise the hell outta them.

Sitting down on the grassy grounds, you were lost in the glowing sight that you got startled as Suguru slung an arm around your shoulders, nuzzling your humming self with his own.

"Truly a memorable night. Well done, love~"

You two jumped as Satoru collapsed before you two, candy stains smearing his lips, but smiling too much to care. "Best Halloween thus far! But next year we gotta top it! We should throw a bash! At our place!" Satoru's eyes were crazed and high at that point.

"Satoru, no more sugar for you tonight." Suguru lightly scolded.

"But Suguru, I feel so good right now~!" You and Sugu sucked the sweetness right off Toru's lips. "Like that but more~! Please love~?" Those puppy dog eyes and pouty lips have you kissing his lips. "Thanks you two~"

Helping Satoru sit up enough to rest on his elbows, you three spent the moment relishing the youthful scenery. Satoru's head rested on your left shoulder, Suguru's head rested on your right shoulder, and you hummed at how warm and cozy and right it all felt.

Calling out to everyone assembled to do at least one group cheer before the clock struck twelve.

Finishing the night off with one last –

"HAPPY HALLOWEEN!"

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