me? obsessed with fluffy hai wolf cut jungkook? nahhhh
seriously tho does he have ANY manners tryna kill us through the screen 🗿
ITS THE MUSCLES ITS THE TATTOOS HELP ME SIMP OVER HIM WITHOUT FEELING GUILTY
YeAh ThAt SmiLe ToTally DIdnT kIll Me
(no over exaggeration in this whole entire post)
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cw: slightly suggestive
when nanami kento saw his wife about to leave the house in a stunning, tight sundress, he swore his whole world stopped for a moment.
“honey?”
“hm?” you glanced at him, then looked back at the mirror, trying not to stab yourself with your earring. nanami cleared his throat. “where are you going?” he asked as he walked over, standing behind you and sliding his hands around your waist.
“i’m having lunch with my friends, sweetie. i told you that this morning, remember?” you raised a brow, confused. your husband nodded dazedly, his eyes glued to your figure.
“right.” he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “where are you going to have lunch?” he asked, his hands gently roaming over your body, feeling the fabric of the dress he so badly wanted to tear off you.
“that cafe we always go to…” you trailed off, finally securing your earring. “are you okay?” you met his gaze through the mirror. “i do this once a month—same place, same people.”
he nodded, humming in acknowledgment. you stayed silent for a moment, trying to figure out what had him so distracted. now that your earring was in place, you became hyper-aware of his hands, their slow, deliberate movements over your hips, squeezing in that familiar way that told you he was restraining himself from acting on his desires.
oh.
a blush crept up your cheeks as you realized nanami hadn’t seen this dress on you yet. you’d just bought it last week and forgot to show him. “kento?”
you called out to him, but he seemed too entranced by the way the dress clung to your curves. he leaned in closer, burying his nose in your neck, his hands trailing down to squeeze your thighs.
you let out a startled moan, hastily covering your mouth. he inhaled deeply, the scent of your perfume overwhelming his senses.
“your friends won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late, right?”
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nanami kento comes home on a saturday afternoon, hands full of groceries and hair freshly cut. in the distance, he hears his precious wife humming along to her favorite soundtrack. you must not have heard him come in. he smiles to himself, setting the groceries on the counter, but not unloading them. that can wait. right now, he wants to hold you.
he slips out of his shoes, padding quietly to the laundry room where you are folding towels. you have your back to him, headphones lodged in your ears. as nanami gets closer, the music bleeding from your headphones becomes audible. he chuckles softly. no matter how many times he tells you it's bad for your ears, you insist on listening to your music at just below full volume.
snaking his arms around your waist, you jump at the sudden contact. nanami presses his chest against your back as you take out your headphones, leaning into his touch. you sway in silence for a moment, nanami resting his chin on your shoulder. when you turn to face him, your expression changes at the sight of his hair.
"your hair," you state dumbly. "you cut it."
"yes," your husband muses. "is there something wrong with it?"
"no, no!" you assure nanami, studying his hair. "i just wasn't expecting it. you normally have me do it, which you know i don't mind doing."
"i know, but i didn't want to bother you on your cleaning day."
your expression softens at his words. nanami, your ever loving, ever caring husband, always thinking about you before himself. you reach one hand up, smoothing the hair down the back of his neck. as you bring your hand up, the freshly cut hair pricks your palm, and nanami lets out a low hiss.
you immediately apologize, pulling away. "did that hurt?"
"yes, but it's okay. it felt... good," nanami confessed. "... do it again. please." his voice is thick and demanding, and you obey without hesitation.
this time, you use just the tips of your fingertips to graze his undercut, beginning at the base of his neck. his breathing quickens as you continue to to run your hands through his undercut, going up and down, switching from one hand to both, thumbs caressing the sides of the cut. the laundry room fills with his melodic whimpers and faint groans. his eyes are shut tight, teeth digging into his bottom lip.
"fuck..." he cusses lowly.
"you okay, nani?" you giggle, stopping momentarily. his eyes flash open, pupils blown. "kento?"
"let's go to the bedroom," he insisted, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the master bedroom. you barely have time react before nanami pushes you back on to the bed, practically ripping your leggings off.
"kento, what are you doin-" you try to protest, his hands clamping around your wrist and bringing them down to grip his hair. his head disappears between your leg, lips latching around your clit. involuntarily, your fingers tighten around his sharp undercut. he moans into your cunt, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body.
from then on, nanami kento always got an undercut.
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