#my stupid sad wet dog

[eggseabutter]

Can you make a new yolk version of sonic 🥹

Here he is: Bee Bug !

[sidoyaboi]

My dearly beloved…re2 leon…

[another-goblin]

Shitposting intencifies

[doofnoof]

Face down on my bed right now listening to Unchained Melody, crying like a little girl because I am fucking YEARNING on this day. I would ask one of y'all to put me outta my misery but The Only Exception by Paramore is up next and I can't miss that one

[ocheeva]

i encountered a really specific ✨ptsd trigger✨ for the first time in years yesterday morning and my brain has been such a little bitch about it since. yeah yeah the emotional abuse was, like, super bad and even those who were beside me when it happened don't know everything bc i literally can't talk about it, but oh my god it's so stupid to ugly cry about feeling lonely and unlovable and abandoned by everyone ever when literally yesterday my platonic partner was here for hours and hugged me so tightly and gave me an expensive yarn i've been wanting as a gift, and a friend asked if i wanted to play a game and voice with her, and i had a couple of lovely long conversations today + had my weekly star trek watch with one of my best friends and got a message from my work bestie who was so excited i'm coming to work tomorrow.

like. i know why it happens, trauma literally causes brain damage and can be with you for the rest of your life, but also come tf on. how can i sit here and cry about no one thinking about me when i have HEAPS of evidence proving that that is factually wrong

[this-should-do]

god i NEED to know if valve k ew what they were doing when they desifned hla alyx gordon, like how purposeful was it that he be the cutests saddsst looking mfer out there? surely it had to be purposeful specially given how hes looked in the past, did they read the changing tides on the public peeception of gordon ? and change him to match? was it an internal descion and made without regard and/or knowlesge of a lot of people perceiving gordon as a teagic sad pethic wet cat of a man? god i need an interview or sumthing fuck man

[calmcoldevening]

First time kiss little headcanons

Jason Voorhees

• You were sitting around the campfire and all that. The night, the silence, the light crackling of the fire and the quiet chirping of crickets. It's so beautiful and cozy.

• Your head is on Jason's shoulder, his hand is on your waist as he slowly strokes your soft flesh.

• And at that moment, for some reason, you decide that you want to express your love and feelings in a new way.

• A second later, you lifted the edge of his hockey mask and gave him a short kiss on the lips.

• Overnight, his whole face was covered with a bright blush and he got up from the tree with his face covered with his hands (on top of the mask, of course).

• This guy went into the woods for a good fifteen minutes to digest what just happened. But God, he loved it.

Bubba Sawyer

• Bubba has never had close contact with people in principle, so your love and attention, although it was like a breath of fresh air into his harsh life, were still somewhat alien to him.

• His brothers often laughed because of how he blushed just from your gentle touch. It made him even redder, like a lingonberry.

• But one day you were almost killed by one of the tourists who decided to use you as an excuse to escape. Bubba was especially mean and cruel back then. He cut that man open like a real pig.

• Emotionally, you clung to Bubba with force, burying your nose in his chest, even though the man was covered in blood. Bubba was a little taken aback, but hugged you back, throwing the chainsaw on the floor. That's when you decided to kiss him.

• It was hard to call it a real kiss. Rather, you kissed him, and he licked your lips like a happy dog. A sloppy and wet kiss, for which he was terribly ashamed afterwards.

• It confused you a little, but you promised yourself to teach Bubba to kiss 'like a human being'.

Thomas Hewitt

• God knows why this crazy family left you, but the fact remains. You were the 'wife' of Thomas, the Hewitt family butcher. He was quite gentle and even childish towards you: Thomas never molested you, did not make any ambiguous hints, my God, he did not even touch you for simple hugs without your permission. Although his uncles laughed at him for this and condemned him, believing that a wife is a husband's thing.

• You were immensely grateful to Thomas for that attitude. Perhaps that's why you took a certain liking to him. That's why you were always glad when Thomas showed his attention to you. You've told him many times that he really doesn't need to ask permission to touch, but he insisted on his own.

• Over time, you saw that Thomas, no, Tommy, your Tommy, is really hungry for touch and affection. Whenever you 'gave permission' to cuddle with you, the man would rush to your embrace like a slaughtered puppy.

• He was a child in many ways, despite the man's body. You could say with certainty that before you appeared, if a female victim got into the house, he probably felt some desire related to his physiology, but it was quickly replaced by anger because of his self-hatred. It was sad. Because of his religious upbringing, he was absolutely stupid in matters of upbringing and, in principle, did not know how women work, which, of course, you will have to help him later.

• So you just decided to thank him for all his work, let's just say. After all, showing affection was indeed something rare in relation to Thomas. And so, when he was in the basement cutting up another victim, you cautiously approached him, standing on tiptoe, and kissed him on the cheek. It took a few minutes for the man to work out the information. He just put the knife down and looked at you from top to bottom with those big puppy dog eyes. He only looked at you like that. The man was silent for a while, and then raised his hand, gently running his thumb over your smooth cheek. There was a bright trace of blood on the skin. His way of responding to a kiss.

Pyramid head

• Over time, the Pyramid Head really started to feel something for you. Even though he was a monster, his human beginnings were quite blurry, so he tried to learn as much about your habits as possible.

• He loved to study. When he wasn't killing monsters in the city, Pyramid Head was usually very close to you. He watched your actions and tried to understand their essence. Pyramid Head loved holding your hand. Your soft skin contrasted vividly with his rough, callused and scarred one. He liked the feeling. He liked the way your body temperature was changing. When you were afraid, your hands sweated and became cold, but if you were happy and felt safe, you were quite warm. He was always pretty hot.

• Knowing about his desire to study people, you couldn't help but try to show him how human affection works. His movements were usually crude and purposeful. The Pyramid Head felt a strange itching sensation inside and the thought that he wanted to touch you. That's why you had to explain that since you're a different person, he can't touch you without your permission. This put the monster in a stupor, but after a while he really understood. And then you started acting. At first it was fleeting touches and attempts to hug him. When he got used to your presence and body, you started kissing his cold metal helmet as a sign of appreciation. It was hard to call it a kiss, just touching metal with your lips. But he surprisingly liked it. Every time you kissed his helmet, the Pyramid head one would make a deep chest purr.

• It has already become commonplace to thank him with a kiss on the helmet. But today, there seemed to be some new thought in his mind. When you pulled away from him with a slight smile on your lips, a lump of flesh like a thick tongue suddenly burst out from under his massive helmet. This pink snake gently slid across your cheek, which made you flinch, but did not pull away. He seemed to be studying you, tasting you. Finally, a chest purr bursts out of the Pyramid-headed Man's chest and his tongue slides into your mouth, pulling a muffled moan out of you. It was weird. But not unpleasant. Rather, it's just unusual. He clumsily explored your mouth with his tongue, watching your reaction. His hand was a little rough, but still gently took your hand in his, placing it on his chest. You could feel his heartbeat gradually accelerating, soft and fast under your skin. He liked it.

• You had to teach him to use his monster language more carefully, but it turned out to be successful. Now, whenever he protected you, he expected you to kiss him. Not just a kiss. His tongue almost instinctively came out from under his helmet, moving to your lips and asking for permission without words.

Art the Clown

• Art often killed couples in love and therefore often witnessed quite, uh, intimate relationships of future victims. And the kiss was one of those things that interested him.

• He stood in front of you covered in blood with his trademark satisfied smile and tried to tell you something without words. He was jumping up and down a little with excitement and showing you things with gestures. He folded the fingers on both hands with his thumbs and depicted two people kissing. You had to think a little before you realized what he really meant. When you asked Art if he meant a kiss, Art clapped his hands joyfully and began nodding actively.

• It's not that you haven't gotten used to his unusual, somewhat grotesque appearance yet, no. But kissing a maniac is not something you do every day.

• Art's gloved hand reaches out to your cheek, cupping your face. With a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes, Art bends down, and his painted lips meet yours in a greedy but inept kiss. She tries to repeat what she saw through the window of those people, but it turns out to be somewhat awkward. Your mouth is filled with the taste of paint and blood. But it's not a bad thing. Unusual. Your hands find his neck and you pull him closer, as if encouraging him.

• The first attempt was quite interesting. Considering that you already had some experience, you taught Art how to kiss well pretty quickly. Now he demanded a 'kiss of praise' after each of his successful kills.

[teddybeartoji]

彡 LOVE BY THE OPEN WINDOW

☆. contains: toji fushiguro x gn!reader; established relationship, fluff, a bit bittersweet in the beginning... very sappy very cute, reader calls him "my baby" wc: 1.9k

toji doesn't understand why you love the rain so much.

he doesn't see the appeal. at all.

everything gets wet, gloomy and dark – he hates the way soaked clothes feel on his body; how heavy they are, how they cling to him. he hates the puddles, he hates having to go around them. and he hates when a car passing by splashes him. it's fucking ridiculous.

he doesn't understand why your eyes are glued to the street below as you sit by the open window. a brisk breeze cards your hair, cradles your jaw; he can see the goosebumps on your skin but you refuse to move. you're holding onto a cup of something (he knows it's tea) and he can see the warmth of it. he watches you raise the ceramic to your lips, he watches you swallow, he watches you take in the heat with a faint smile. droplets of rain litter your bare legs and arms and he thinks about chiding you about catching a cold... but he just can't seem to actually do it.

fresh out of the shower, he stands in the dim living room with a towel in his hand - the only light in the room is coming from the outside and it's not a lot. the sky is painted a hazy, pale gray shade; he can't even see the clouds the water is pouring from - everything above has mixed into one big melancholy blob. the rain thrashes so loudly that it muffles every other sound in the world. it's overwhelming. he hates it.

images of a kicked, sad dog sitting under a sky just like this flood his mind. licking his wounds as the water tried to wash him away; the drops felt like daggers, like sharp little blades, trailing all over his skin. the clothes on his back burned as the cold took over, nothing ever made sense to him. the dog hated how bright it was – why weren't the clouds darker, why wasn't it storming, why wasn't the weather worse? he wanted to hide in the shadows, hide from the stupid rain and the hurt and the shame, to hide from the light.

(memories, not images.)

"toji?"

warm, like the sun. another kind of light. your lips curl around the letters of his name like they're meant to do so and he doesn't know... he doesn't understand why. the rain – ever so gloomy and sad and cold and dark and irrelevant and upsetting and useless and—

"baby?"

a switch goes off in his head and the rain changes into a simple background noise. he hears you loud and clear.

an extended hand, reaching for his – you're as patient as ever, your hand doesn't shake as you wait for him. it never does. toji shakes his head to rid of the images because he wants to see you instead. you're here and that's all that matters. his shoulders relax and he let's out the breath he didn't even know he was holding. you're smiling. you're beautiful.

the background doesn't muddle in his eyes – it's you and the rain. coexisting; the flood won't wash you away like he fears and you won't make it disappear either. and that's okay. he watches you place down your mug and his heart does a little flip when you reach out to him with two arms now. your grin stretches wider, your shine – you want him there, no matter how unbelievable it sounds or seems.

throwing the towel over his shoulders, he sneaks forward. he's not as sour as he was mere seconds ago and you're glad. you've noticed that he doesn't like this type of weather and you understand why.

his mossy green eyes bore into yours as you dig your fingers into his still damp skin. he smells good, he feels anew. while he still feels quite warm from the shower, he sees more goosebumps raise from your skin and he's decided to try and lecture you now, he's gonna tease you about the dangerous breeze, the risk of getting sick. the corners of his scarred lips tug upward and—

"stupid, your hair is still wet. you're gonna catch a cold."

...

you're not really looking at him; fully focused on his unruly, wet strands of hair, eyebrows furrowed as you push them away from his eyes. your tone is caring, albeit a little teasing. he loves it.

he loves you.

he's about to bite back but you're just not letting have his moment today.

a surprisingly warm hand slithers up his chest and around his neck while another hold onto his soft cheek. an unstoppable object meets an immovable force. toji doesn't even have a chance.

you tug him down with the most gentle pull and before he can even question what you're doing – your lips press against his forehead. adoration blooms from the touch; it travels to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, his own lips, his neck, his chest, his lower stomach, the tips of his fingers, his thighs and knees, his fucking toes. it's everywhere. you are everywhere.

the loud "mwaaaaaaah!" that spills from you makes him chuckle; his chest rumbles with warmth and you take the moment to fully cradle his face in your hands. he leans into it, nuzzling into you like a big cat.

"my baby..."

toji hates how much he loves it when you call him that. him – a baby? how ridiculous, how childish, how foolish and naive; he is not a—

"myy baabyy..."

his insides fill with butterflies and his skin burns. the desire to pull away, to look away, to hide, is immense but your hold on him is stronger. he let's you tug him down a bit further, until his head bonks against his – you're looking at him from an incredibly silly angle and he's never felt more at home.

"'m a grown man, stop callin' me 'baby'." he grumbles. like a child.

"i can literally hear your heart racing right now, stop lying tough guy."

you know his act better than he'd ever like to admit. it's scary how clearly you see him. he really doesn't have a chance against you. you're something that grows between the cracks of concrete, slowly but surely growing your roots underneath before sprouting up and reaching for the sky. you hold him together.

in order to distract you from your unnervingly accurate comment, toji pinches your side before pulling you into his embrace. still sat on the windowsill, you let him snake his strong arms around you and wait for him to take his rightful place behind your back. he holds onto you as if you're about to slip away from him but you aren't. and you never will.

more droplets of rain fall onto your thighs and his arms and it feels refreshing. you feel him rest his heavy head on your shoulder and you know that this is the perfect time to introduce him to your favourite type of weather.

hand on top of his, you use the other to grab the lonely, almost forgotten cup of tea and bring it to your lips. it's still warm. after a quiet 'ahhh!', you raise it to his – he drinks it without a word. you know it's too sweet for him and you laugh when he doesn't say anything, just letting his eyes fall shut at the taste with a low grumble. your big baby.

the sound of the rain isn't as overwhelming anymore, it's not deafening. he feels you breathe and he feels the brisk air; the tiniest drops find his face with the help of the wind but they don't sting like they used to.

"look..."

toji gives you a 'hm?' before peeling open his eyes. he looks at you, only to find you staring at the street below again with a pretty smile. he follows your gaze and his hearts stammers. three kids, jumping around in a puddle, laughing so hard that they're almost crying – he didn't even hear them. they're wearing the most colorful clothes toji has ever seen in his whole entire life and they're laughing.

"so fucking cute."

you nuzzle your nose against his cheek while he's still looking at the kids splashing each other. "c'mon, when are we doing that, hm?"

the corners of his lips tug up despite his best efforts to stop them from doing so. he gives your body a aqueeze before murmuring. "y'really are something, huh..."

a toothy grin and another laugh – he doesn't know what he'd do without you.

toji lunges forward, pretending to bite your nose and he revels in the sounds that bubble from your throat. damp hair tickles your face as you try to push him off and the tea in your hand threatens to spill as you squirm in his hold, but he doesn't budge. he nips at your skin and he swallows your laughter like it's the last meal he'll ever have.

"y'wanna go and play in the rain?" kiss. "wanna play in the puddles?" kiss. "y'wanna catch a cold like those kids out there, hm?" kiss.

whatever thoughts plagued his mind before are long forgotten now. the memories are actively being replaced my newer, happier ones and he's glad to let the old ones go. he's fucking elated to do so.

with one final bite-kiss, he steadies his arms around you once more and let's you catch your breath.

"tell me more."

your eyebrows raise and you tear your eyes from the dancing trees outside. "about what?"

"what ya wanna do... why ya like the rain s'much..."

he's just a little hesitant to ask, though he himself isn't sure what he's so afraid of.

(he's scared he won't be able to give you what you want.)

"oh. hmm..." toji feels like a blanket around you and you can't help but melt into him as you answer his question. "i love the sound of it, i think it's very calming."

a hum.

"i love just watching it too, i love watching the puddles grow. i love to watch it soak everything."

another hum.

"i love the fact that it helps the flowers bloom, the grass and the trees. i like how it smells, during and after. i love how the sun peeks from the clouds when it's all done."

toji's eyes fall shut as he listens to your smooth voice. he pictures you instead of a weeping dog – he thinks about you sitting outside, in the rain. he knows you'd welcome it with a bright smile and open arms.

(like you welcome him.)

"i wanna feel it on my skin, and my hair. it's so refreshing. and i really do wanna play in the puddles, toji..."

he hears the pout in your voice and his insides feel warm. it's easy to forget about his past when he's with you; his every single thought involves you, they circle around you and he couldn't be more grateful.

"'n i wanna kiss in the rain. you know, like they do in the movies?"

his voice is smooth, comforting. he's not making fun of you, he's genuinely invested in your wish. "mm, yeah? wanna kiss like yer in a movie?"

"i do."

the rain. it pours and pours. the kids laugh and cheer. you sip on your tea and he hears you swallow. he feels your heartbeat.

"okay."

determination.

a promise.

[fireflyinks]

good boy ⭒

reader x peeta mellark smut

a/n : i’m actually screaming this was so fun to write, pls repost if ya like it!! 💗

contains : sub peeta mellark, soft dom reader, praise kink, multiple rounds, peeta and the reader own a bakery, pinv, talk of having kids, no protection, riding

MATURE 18+

Peeta Mellark was a hard worker. Partly because that’s just who he was as an individual, but mainly because of his upbringing. The need to impress ran through his body as if it were his own blood. He craved praise, feened off of it as if it were a sweet, sweet nectar.

This notion was very present in his every day life. When he’d accidently burn a loaf or spill a bag of flour, his face would turn a rosey pink shade out of shame and he’s scramble to fix his mistake. His puppy dog eyes would shoot over to me, as if to scream “I’m sorry! I’m so very sorry! Please don’t hurt me!”, only to be met with a peck on the cheek and a whisper of “It’s okay, you’re fine”. His eyes would soften, and his hands would become less clammy, brow less furrowed, and cheeks even rosier.

If I dared to give him a slight compliment in the morning, the blonde’s head would be in the clouds for the rest of the day, almost in a trance from the mere thought of his special girl thinking he was admirable.

At first, I thought this whole ordeal was sort of sad, I mean depressing even. Peeta was just so love starved.

But then I learned how to use it to my advantage.

There he was, on top of me, trying his very best to impress me. His cock pistoned in and out vigorously, each one of my moans encouraging him. My back arched off of the sheets as I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying to get him deeper.

He understood this rather quickly, trading speed for force and plunging himself directly into my core.

“Good boy.” I moaned out, almost automatically. His pace faltered for a moment, starstruck.

“Say that again.” He whimpered.

“Say what baby?” I questioned, confused as to why he’d stopped.

“Uh, please can you um call me a good boy again?” He mumbled. Something in his eyes had shifted, he looked almost helpless.

“Well…” I decided to tease him, rile him up more. “I can only do that if you act like one, so if you fuck me real good, yeah, you can be my good boy.”

Peeta nodded, beginning to thrust into me once again, determined to be a good boy.

“That’s it, there’s a good boy.” I cooed, gazing up at him with major ‘fuck me’ eyes.

His jaw slacked and he moaned deeply. “You’re so- fuck, you’re so hot.”

I giggled at the love drunk expression on his face. “Thank you, my handsome boy.”

I felt his cock twitch inside of me. God, praise really did have an effect on him.

“I- oh baby I’m gonna come.”

I moaned as he fucked me deeply, hitting my g-spot with each thrust.

“Go ahead, come inside of me like a good boy.”

His eyes rolled back into his head as he came with his new found permission. He pulled out immediately, connecting our lips before lying down beside me.

“That was- fuck, amazing.” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

There was silence for a few moments before he realized.

He sprung into apology immediately.

“Holy shit baby, you didn’t come, did you? I’m so sorry love, I’ll do whatever you want, eat you out, fuck you again, whatever you want. I’m so stupid, I don’t know how I-“

I pressed my lips to his to shut him up as I climbed on top of him.

“No baby, you don’t have to ride me, I’m the one who messed up. Let me-“

“Peeta, I want you to be a good boy and listen to me.”

I angled his wet cock upward before sinking down onto it. I began working my hips.

“You are not stupid, you are so smart.” I bounced on him as I spoke, “you’re so good to me, everybody makes mistakes and that’s ok. You have gotten me off a million times before. You’re such a good fucking boy.”

He began to look away as blush creeped into his face. I grabbed his chin and forced him to look me in my eyes.

“You’re so handsome baby, ah fuck- you’re such a hard worker, and you’ll make an amazing father one day.”

My legs began to shake as I released on his lap, my cum flowing down his cock. I continued to ride him throughout my high.

“Now say it to me.” I ordered.

“You’re so beauti-“

I shook my head, “No, tell me about how much of a good boy you are.”

His face contorted, clearly too shy to say such things.

I touched his face lightly, “Peeta, good boys do what they’re told. Be a good boy.”

He nodded, “Um- I’m a good boy.” He whimpered, unsure of himself.

“I don’t believe you. Say it like you mean it.”

He cleared his throat, looking into my eyes. “I’m a good boy. I made a mistake and that’s ok. I’m so handsome and will make a really good father. Fuck- I’m gonna come.”

He released inside of me, painting my spongy walls white. His voice filled the room with pornographic noises. After letting him catch his breath, I crawled off of him. Peeta walked into the bathroom for a moment and came back with a damp rag and a smile on his face.

He began to slowly clean me up. I looked in between my thighs and laughed at the amount of semen that had collected.

“Jeez, if we don’t start being more careful, you might be an amazing father sooner than we’d imagined.”

He chuckled, pressing his lips onto mine. “I’d be ok with that.”

[beenbaanbuun]

fever w/ kang yeosang

words - an amount 🙂‍↕️

genre - hurt/comfort, sickfic

warnings - food avoidance because of illness, mentions of vomiting, reader is a little bratty but it’s the fever talking, yeosang is tired :((, not proof read

——————————————————————————

“you need to eat something, baby,” yeosang grumbles, arm folded crossly over his half-exposed pecs. you can’t help but focus on the way he’s standing there in nothing but a tank top and some shorts while you’re sat shivering in one of the many hoodies that you’ve stolen from his closet. you’ve been blaming the fever for how cold you seem to be at the minute, but you’ve always ran a little colder than your boyfriend. whenever he needs a sweater, you need a sweater, a coat and a scarf. you’re just a little nesh, you suppose.

your eyes flicker around the kitchen, studying everything that crosses your vision. perhaps you could have some toast, you think as your eyes land on the half-finished loaf of bread on the counter. then you think about how heavy your stomach feels, even when it’s empty, and you realise that perhaps toast isn’t the best option. you turn your nose up and move on to the bowl of fruit that yeosang had just refilled this morning. the scent of the bananas alone is enough to make you feel sick, and perhaps the citrus fruits aren’t the best choice when you’ve been struggling to keep food down.

“i’m only going to throw it up again,” you argue, trying your hardest to make your expression pathetic and sad. you commit to it, bringing out the sad arched brows and the big wet eyes. your bottom lip juts out just a little and for extra effect, you can’t help but wobble it a little. for a moment of two, you’re almost sure it’ll work. yeosang’s eyes soften and his arms go limp and fall back to his sides. you’re almost positive that he’ll let you off with another day of medicine and water, you can practically feel it on your tongue—

“you don’t know until you try.”

your shoulders sink upon hearing your words and your features drop, expressing only apathy and defeat. sure, the puppy dog eyes have never worked on him before, but there’s a first time for everything. you were certain that this would be that time.

“yeosang!” you whine, trying to grab his attention as he turns to face the countertop. he whines your name back in exactly the same nasally tone you used. “please! my throat already hurts from all the acid; i just want one day where i don’t throw up. it’ll make me feel less miserable.”

he ignores you, lifting his phone from the counter and typing a few words into safari. you wish you could see i what it says, but from your position, huddled up on a dining chair—which you would only move from if a hefty bribe was offered your way—you can’t even dream of looking around his oversized torso.

damn him for getting buff.

“google says banana’s are goo—”

“no,” you cut him off, head shaking wildly like a petulant child.

“baby~”

“they smell bad!”

with a sigh, yeosang goes back to looking.

“dry brown rice?” he offers meekly, already foreseeing the outcome of his offer. he doesn’t even have to turn around to see your face screwed up in displeasure; it’s already so clear in his mind. “nevermind, it was a stupid suggestion.”

you hum in agreement, the small sound making him crack a small smile. despite being incredibly difficult, yeosang can admit that you do have your sweet moments while you’re feverish. your mind may be muddled and your body doing everything in its power to make your life a living hell, but you still somehow manage to put a smile on his face.

if he wasn’t desperate to not catch whatever 18th century plague has taken up residence in your body, he’d spin around and kiss you. squish your cheeks together like he always does when he wants to annoy you a little, bring your face up to his, and just kiss you. it’s almost impossible not to when he’s been missing out on the feeling of your lips on his for the past few days, but when he hears the sound of your stomach churning and a pained groan leave your lips, he remembers exactly why he’s doing this to himself.

“how about broth?” he suggests, putting his mind back on the task at hand, “you like broth, baby.”

he’s right, you do like broth. or at least you like it when you’re not feeling like satan himself has put his little tapdancing shoes on specifically to do a jig atop your stomach. instinctively you wrap an arm around your abdomen which after a short period of docility, has began to cramp again. that broth really doesn’t sound appealing right now…

“yeosang…” you say, dejected and miserable. he sighs, understanding exactly what you mean by saying his name in that tone of voice; it’s a disheartened no from you.

and while it pains him to be forceful with you—or anyone for that matter—he can’t just sit and watch you waste away over a poorly stomach. he has to put his foot down for once.

“baby, you need to eat,” he sighs and rubs a hand over his face. he hates being so bossy with you, almost as much as he hears the weary sound pass from your lips just after his soft command. “just a small bowl, okay? just for me; your yeosang?”

and while it’s an obvious guilt trip, a little bribe to make you feel a little bad about refusing to eat, you can’t help but fall for it. you sigh, wrapping your arms around your knees so you can pick at your fingers guiltily. it’s not like you can help being sick, but maybe you have been a little dramatic about the whole refusing to eat thing. sure, your stomach churns at even the thought of food, but yeosang is right; if you don’t try, you won’t know. the idea of throwing up again frightens you, but broth is a liquid; it’ll be easy to come back up.

you resign with a minuscule hum, so quiet it’s almost silent.

“fine,” yeosang hardly believes the word when you say it with so much resignation, “one small bowl of broth…”

[fungusgnat444]

König being desperate for escort reader :(

Couldn’t stop thinking about this so i had to burden y’all with my brain rot. NSFW, angst kinda?, desperate touch starved König, he’s kinda subby hehe, afab fem reader, sugar daddy/pay pig shit if you squint, mentions of anxiety and poor self worth, implied size difference, oral f receiving, piv sex (no mentions of protection but always wrap it up y’all), begging, no german apart from schatz, big pp, decryphilia kinda? (He cries because you taste good lol), i think thats it. Let me know if i missed anything

he’s so nervous the first time you meet. Always asking for permission and being so gentle and needy. He’s been lonely for so long, of course you’ll let him bury his face between your soft pillowy tits after he’s begged so politely, won’t you, schatz? Just sits you in his lap and snuggles deep in your chest while he thanks you again and again and tells you how precious you are :(. And his poor neglected cock is so so hard the whole time, throbbing against your plump ass. He whimpers so sweetly every time it pulsates. But he won’t let you touch it because he feels like he doesn’t deserve it. He just paws and gropes at your pretty little body all night until he falls asleep between your tits. Leaving you so wet and needy, squirming against him but the stupid man is fast asleep, mumbling incoherent shit in german :(

He has more money than he knows what to do with so he spends it all on spoiling his favourite call girl. Sometimes just takes you to the mall and gives you his card to spend on whatever you want. All the poor boy wants is to hold your hand the whole time while you waste all his money. Blushing whenever you buy something extra expensive. “Are you sure that’s all you want, schatz?”, he's just so desperate to please you. Always carrying all your bags, following you around like an oversized puppy dog, getting so sad whenever you say that you’re done shopping. Gets so painfully hard when you try on all your new clothes for him :( poor thing doesn’t know what to do with himself.

takes him several meetings to touch you properly but once he finally does he’s a fucking mess. Lapping at your sweet little cunt so greedily while his eyes fill with tears. Your poor clit gets so sore and sensitive from his needy tongue. He’ll go at it for hours until you're quivering and whimpering. You try to pull him away by his curly ginger hair. But he gets so whiny and looks up at you with the most desperate, pleading eyes. Begging you for just a little longer. He always makes such a mess :( won’t give you his big stupid cock until you’re practically begging him. But he just can’t stand the thought of disappointing you.

insists that you ride him because he's so scared he’ll hurt you. He’s so ridiculously big your poor little pussy can’t take him all. There’s always at least an inch sticking out of you while he's whimpering and sobbing into your tits. You’re so full you barely have the strength to bounce on him. He holds your hips and helps you move up and down while he apologises so desperately for hurting you (don’t worry he’s not, he just feels so bad for your poor little body. He feels so disgusting and weak :( ) Just can’t stop himself from sucking on your tits so greedily while you mewl so weakly into his neck. He loses all knowledge of the English language when he’s inside you. You never know what the hell he’s saying but he can’t stop himself from babbling.

[puppyplayhouse]

What a Mess

Pairing: Chan x AFAB Reader

Genre: Smut,

Warnings: Chan is referred to as 'Dad', fauxcest I guess?, reader is referred to as 'pup', no pronouns at all, Chan calls reader 'mutt', vulgar language, the dirtiest of tak, brief mention of breeding, mating press kind of, puppy reader obv, oral (Chan receiving), gagging, choking on dick, tears, lots of drool, reader is called a bitch, degradation, some praise, creampie, unprotected sex

Word Count: 1080

Synopsis: Your favourite Dad dicks you down within an inch of your life. Happy fucking!

"That's it. Good dog~"

Chan stares down at you, tears streaking your cheeks as you force his length deeper down your throat, gagging almost violently at the breach. You were trying so hard to take him, and you looked so good on your knees for him.

"Look at how much you've got. Almost got the whole thing, hm? You're setting a new record, pup."

He doesn't hold your head or buck his hips. There was no need to when you were pushing your own limits, throat constricting around him as you swallow. There's drool pooling on your chest at this point, dripping down your chin the more you gag. You try to push further, but you physically can't force any more in, and your jaw is aching, giving you no choice but to pull off with wet eyes and a sad sniffle.

"Can't do it." You whine, your lip quivering as you pout up at him, nuzzling your spit slicked face against his cock. "I'm sorry."

You're adorable when you're whiny, urging him to help you up onto his bed, your knees marked red from kneeling on the hard wood floors.

"Shhh. You did so good, puppy. Almost got all the way to the base." He praises, pushing you back and settling between your thighs. "Such an eager slut for me. So determined."

His teeth graze your neck and his hand wanders down to cup you through your briefs, the fabric already soaked through making him laugh a little against your skin.

"My dirty mutt."

You buck up against his hand, the fabric slipping between your puffy lips as you seek friction.

"Dad- please, fuck." A whiny 'woof' sound punctuates your sentence, followed by various needy whimpers as he continues running his fingers over your leaking hole.

"Little puppy wants Dads cock?" He taunts you by pressing the tips of his fingers against your entrance, arousal pooling on the thin material that separates him from where you need him most. "Bet you've been thinking about it all day, huh? Need Dad to remind you who owns this cunt?"

All you can do is whine at first and it's unacceptable to him, his free hand coming up to squeeze your cheeks roughly, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"Answer me, you stupid fucking dog. You can't be this cock drunk already."

You fail to answer again, dazed and drowning in lust as you stare at him blankly.

"There's not a single thought in that pretty head, is there?" He smirks, a mixture of pride and satisfaction filling him as he slaps you lightly, just enough for you to feel a barely there sting. "Horny bitch can only focus on being a messy hole for Dad to fuck."

You're so turned on that you're shivering at this point, your body jerking as he shoves his hand into your briefs, two fingers plunging deep inside your aching cunt, fucking you with harsh movements.

"You wouldn't be able to beg if you wanted to, would you? Fuck, look at you..." His voice trails off for a second, soaking in the sight of your tear stained cheeks and the drool dripping from your mouth. "You're fucking filthy, aren't you? Drooling like a dumb little cunt. You drool almost as much as your pussy does, you know that?"

He isn't sure if you're paying any attention, but the way your cunt squeezes around his fingers tells him you get the idea.

"Gonna fuck you full. Gonna stretch this little pussy and fill it over and over again."

You borderline panic when you suddenly feel empty, bucking up in search of his fingers only to have a harsh slap land on your thigh, your briefs quickly discarded and the tip of his cock dragging between your folds.

"Please fuck me. Oh God, please put it in, Dad. 'S so big. I can take it, I promise!"

You can't. You can never completely take him, but that doesn't stop him from sliding in almost all the way on the first thrust, his hips grinding toward yours slowly. There's almost a full inch and a half that doesn't fit, but he doesn't mind. How could he be upset when you're pulsing around him, your pussy already determined to milk him dry.

"So greedy." His voice scolds, almost echoing in your mind as his cock becomes your only concern, your nails digging into his arms as an involuntary growls rumble through your throat.

"Har-der." You choke out, unsatisfied by the lazy roll of his hips. The second slap to your flushed cheek is harder, but it doesn't catch you off guard. Not when you were being so demanding.

"You'll take whatever I fucking give you." He growls back, gripping your hips firmly as he fucks into you harder, the slight pain of his length filling you completely only serving to further fuel your desire.

Your head tilts back, your neck deliciously exposed as your growls drift off into high pitched whines, your back arching up into him.

"D-ad, please fuck me harder. Need it. You wanna breed me, don't you? Don't you wanna watch your cum drip out of puppys hole?"

He's as easily influenced as you are, setting a quicker pace and pounding into you, one hand wandering to find your own and intertwine your fingers.

"Fuck yeah. Gonna fill my puppys cunt nice and deep."

He gives up on holding your hand, instead pushing your thighs toward your chest so he can properly watch your greedy cunt swallow his cock, seeing it flutter around him as he gets closer and closer to the edge.

"You love this, don't you? My cock plugging your cunt. Your Dads filthy little bitch, aren't you?"

You nod in response and he's too close to care, fucking you harder for what feels like hours until he tenses on top of you, sucking painfully at your neck as his cum spills deep inside of you, the roll of his hips only forcing it further in.

He's still inside of you, still grinding his half hard length into you when you decide you want to move, your mind clearer until he pushes your shoulders back town, growling menacingly above you.

"You didn't think I was done, did you?"

[youryanderedaddy]

Bad dog

tw: very trippy and edgy rawr, hinted captivity, hinted abuse, insults, victim blaming

During the coldest nights, as the fireplace tickles your cheeks red, he likes to tell you over and over - with the slightest of smiles, the story of how you two first met. As if you don't remember it. As if you don't regret every second of it.

You with your long raincoat crying, barely coherent, searching for escape, for a savior to run into. Clinging to any stranger who looked kind enough, who had innocent eyes, who wasn't drunk or drugged out of their mind - but in that type of neighbourhood after dark, you hardly met any respectable people. Heavy stench of wet tobacco sinking to the very fabric of your flimsy dress under the cargo (feeling like a whore and looking like one, he often adds with a biting chuckle) - your heart was beating, clapping like a dying bird's wings, and if it could speak with a human voice, it would be screaming. You were being chased.

You don't even recall his name or his face anymore. Maybe an angry lover? A crazed admirer? Your father, drunk and bitter after a fight? Back then you were so terrified you could describe him in your sleep, but now nothing seemed as scary as it did back then. Darkness has become your sanctuary and even the monsters pity you. You were afraid you were losing your mind, once, (don't be silly, he had said. you were crazy from the star, doll.) you could feel his hands on you, but whose hands were they really? Why were you running in the first place?

He was screaming. Threatening to murder you, maybe. You were shaking and wet and you just needed a hug. And perhaps one hundred martinis followed by the most gruesome, toe - curling, humiliating fuck of your life. The type that leaves you feeling filthy, bleeding, and not even in a good way. The type you could control and write down, and fully envision with director cuts and quotes and props, as if come out of your own personal fucked up pink little porn studio.

You needed someone - something. A friend? A kind soul that happened to pass by? You had watched too many movies. You were naive - all those offices, all those mass corporate names, those leather seats at the top floor right next to the big boss, those tears and sweats to climb the ladder and yet, you were still a naive, stupid little girl. Believing in fairytales, in the power of love, tenderness, believing that out there exists someone who might just take you as you are for free. Someone who will hold you without bruising you. Someone who will save you without destroying everything you are. Someone who will fight those fights for you without somehow perversely enjoying breaking down all those walls, all that independence you had created for yourself.

You're not a child anymore. And as you look at the man across from you, with his crazed eyes, with what he thinks is love, you're not sure if you're the naive one. You're not sure if good exists, if love is real or just some commercial bullshit. A lie that communists invented to get free sex, or whatever.

"You looked like a nasty little street rat. You jumped into my arms and I was thinking," He speaks and speaks and speaks, and God, you're tired of hearing. You wish your ears would bleed out before he is finished with the story. "Maybe I should blow your brains out. One less sad whore on those streets." He grips your thighs painfully and you kick him in the groin, but he only groans in return. Freak. "But then you opened that cute little mouth of yours and-"

And you begged him to help you. To save you. To take you away from this miserable life of yours.

"You looked so helpless. I couldn't help myself."

And that's why he decided to chain you like a dog and fuck you black and blue. Because he couldn't help himself. And because you couldn't help yourself, you had invited him. Your body was calling out to him. If you weren't so sad, if you weren't so lonely, so helpless. If you weren't in the wrong place at the wrong time, you wouldn't meet the wrong people. If you had only been a good girl. If you had just stayed put. If you didn't entice bad men - even as a child. Even as you were spilling your guts out, maybe your blood was just that beautiful.

"You basically threw yourself into my arms. It was love at first sight."

Right. It was love all along.

[paulic]

Ok this is what I think the biopics will be like for each Beatle:

John will be so troubled but in a really charming way and Julian will be mentioned but briefly and they’ll make it seem like John was just too busy to be a present father (Paul will make up for it in a vomit inducingly cheesy way). His eating disorder, heroin addiction and other internal struggles (self-esteem, sexuality, maybe even gender,…) will go unmentioned or brushed over jokingly like haha he tossed Brian off, don’t we all at that age. He’ll be the cool and funny older brother & later genius who just couldn’t be confined within a band. They won’t have the guts to call his bullshit and therefore will automatically brush over his kinder and vulnerable sides. He’ll be reduced to a knock off version of the tortured artist blueprint. They’ll never pick up on his pathetic wet dog vibe

Paul will be the charming good guy who’s all in with the band. No mention of how he fucked over Jane and every other girl until Linda; he’ll be a musical genius, too, but in a prince of the people sort of way. They’ll loooove that he stopped eating meat, woke king!!!! Linda will be brushed over by making her into his soulmate wifey who finally helps the charming playboy with a heart of gold settle down. His depression and alcohol problem won’t be mentioned/reduced to feeling a little sad. He’ll be a little bossy sometimes but they won’t ever get it right how fucking annoying he could be. Straighter than a ruler. John’s brother, almost biologically. No homo. They’ll find a way to make the twink who fucked the entire population and had an ego bigger than Neptune into a straight feminist

George will be the indie underground smart Beatle and people on tik tok will start posting thirst traps of the actor with the caption “they don’t make em like this anymore” and then complain about real-George’s teeth. He’ll be so spiritual and smart and he won’t have an affair with his best friend’s wife at all and if he does it’ll be because of some spiritual insight, not because that man couldn’t keep it in his pants for 5 seconds. I’m deadly afraid of the colourful drug scenes where he’ll hallucinate god. He’ll be the perfect boyfriend and Pattie will be played by Sidney sweeney or something. They won’t take a side with the whole George Or Paul debate during the breakup, but George will be too focused on other things to want to stay in the Beatles. They won’t mention the three billion songs John&Paul deemed unworthy. They’ll never do the grudges my man held justice. No one could

Ringo will be the funny guy who luckily survived his childhood and found his passion through a kind nurse giving him his drumsticks. He’ll play an incredible drum solo at 8 years old on his hospital bed frame the first time he ever holds those sticks. He won’t be in gangs, he won’t beat his wife half to death, he won’t have drugs and alcohol problems. He’ll be peace and love from age 0. He’ll be slightly stupid and he’ll mention octopuses too much. They’ll never get it right how he was truly the eldest and how much his vote and opinion actually counted within the band and how much the boys wanted him in the band and admired him. He won’t be a sort of glue to the band. He won’t marry a teenager he met when she was 16 and he 22. He’ll be a weird version of Ken from the Barbie movie, his job will be Drum. They’ll flatten a severely nuanced and layered man to a sheet of paper with the word ‘beat’ on it

I am too afraid to even think about what they will do to Eppy

Oh and each and every one of them will have way too pretty teeth and I am already furious. I want them to have British men in the 1960s teeth. Give me British teeth and jerking off together

[buntobeans]

delirious venture after tooth surgery

warnings: blood, venture is like HIGH from anesthetic nothing much else

idk if anyone has written this but it's so cute seeing all those videos with people after surgeries being absolutely ZOOTED and having no idea what planet they're on

also i am NOOTTTT a dentist by any means im just going off of my fanfic delirium.... it's 4am this is a pretty bad work but i GAWT TO BE ON MY VENTURE GRINDSET

sooo we all know how sloan has a chipped tooth, right? not entirely sure what it's from, their chipper highlight intro or them eating a rock- either one is funny as hell

to say you freaked out was an absolute understatement, there was blood everywhere and sloan was just looking at you like:

:D

"amor, look what i found!" they hold up the rock in their hands so proudly like a cat that's brought back a dead mouse

"SLOAN, YOU'RE LITERALLY BLEEDING."

you force them to drop the rock/artifact or leave it with the wayfinders, ensuing in a very pouty sloan

one trip to the emergency room later sloan is ZOOTED

literally space ranger the way they are NOT on earth

you go to pick them up, they're in the waiting room

you're relieved by the fact that they're okay but you're absolutely not prepared for what comes next

the medical staff informs you that they're very out of it, slyly adding along that you must be "the partner with (e/c) eyes that sparkle in the sunlight"

the what

you enter the room to see them having an extremely animated conversation to anyone that will listen, whether it's the doctors or the potted plant on the table next to their seat

as soon as they namedrop you you feel extremely embarrassed

they're describing your exact appearance (like if you have brown hair, none of that brunette shit, they're saying "they have #5C4033 hair")

they describe your first meeting and first date in way too specific detail and the middle-aged lady next to them in the waiting room is just like "uh huh yeah if this mf dont stop talking they're gonna be in the emergency room AAGGAAAIN"

"SLOAN SHUT UP"

your partner takes a GOOD LONG LOOK AT YOU

like 30 seconds of just gaping, you really can see their chipped tooth in its full glory

"sloan, we're going home"

they gulp and stare up at you like their big wet eyes

"i can't go home with you"

"why not"

"my partner will get jealous"

"."

"by the way, my partner has the prettiest smile. i miss them" they're looking so sad as they said that, like you fucking died

YOU'RE RIGHT THERE

"sloan.."

"whoa.. how'd you know my name?"

"i AM your partner"

they blink

it's like they're seeing you for the first time again

their eyes are sparkling and they look like they're falling in love all over again

they give you a crooked smile, kind of slumping back in their seat cause you took their breath away, cheeks hotter than before

"hey there!"

you're exhausted from worrying over them and their tooth but they're looking at you like you're the most radiant being in the world- no- the universe

"oh dios mio.. see i was tryna be loyal but you came in looking really pretty and i thought (for only a second i promise, like, one second!) about cheating.. thank goodness we're together tho"

what

your heart does a few flips in your chest

suddenly you're kinda pissed that they had to get injured in their mouth because you want to sloppily make out with this rock munching idiot

the car ride home is almost abysmal

they're belting out stupid songs, randomly screaming deez nuts jokes even when you don't fall for them then cackling at themselves because it's funny to THEM, mumbling things in spanish you don't understand (you swear you hear a "te amo" in there)

it's stressful as HELL for you because you have to constantly check that their seatbelt is still on because they're excitedly looking out the window like a dog with its tongue out

they're also randomly shouting and pointing out shit outside like they're playing road trip bingo

you're thankful when they quiet down eventually until you hear

"Can we get married? I proooomise I'll take care of you.." They sniffle. "I've got the moneeeyy.. 'n I really think you were made f'me.. I jus' wan' t'be t'gether forever... I loooove youuuu..."

you nearly crash the car

JESUS SLOAN

you tend to them at home and it seems like all their object permanence has vanished

gone from this world

because whenever you leave the room to get them water that THEY REQUESTED, they start crying

"AMOR, WHERE DID YOU GO"

they regain their senses the next day and you realize

it's not REALLY that different

they're still a goober

though with less (full) teeth than before

but they're your goober :)

still, using that little marriage speech against them has them flustered because they've really been thinking about it, it wasn't just a whim from their anesthetic-fueled delirium

[dearly-somber]

Yours | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!Jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. pining, fluff, unrequited love, f2l (friends-to-lovers)

-> w/c. 1867

-> rating. 13+

-> a/n. This couple 💔💔

-> warnings. N/A

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Wed., Jun. 30th, 2022 @ 18:19

-> fin. Tues., Jul. 27th, 2022 @ 21:37

-> edited. Tues., Jan. 7th, 2023 @ 12:45

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

You watch in awe as Jungkook and his pack interact with one another in their wolf forms, itching to take pictures, but knowing they wouldn’t appreciate it.

It’s the first time you’ve seen Jungkook’s wolf, and you find yourself rather intimidated. He’s twice the size you’d expect him to be, and although he acts like an oversized puppy, his sharp teeth and large paws remind you of god true nature.

Jungkook whines and nips at his hyungs while the girls lounge off to the side, watching you take everything in with curious eyes. The youngest of the shifters gives who you think is Hoseok one last nibble to his ear before excitedly padding in your direction, tail wagging behind him.

Your heartbeat races as he stalks towards you, your mind emptying itself of all coherent thought. You open your mouth to ask something, but get interrupted by a wet, gross wolf-tongue being thrust down your throat.

It takes you a second to realize that Jungkook is in fact licking the inside of your mouth, and the moment you have the braincells to do something about it you yell in protest, roughly pushing him away by his chest. He takes a second to react to your pushing and jumps away the second he realizes he’s doing something wrong, a high-pitched whine leaving his throat. You wipe your mouth with your sleeve with a horrified frown, resisting the urge to gag. Jungkook whines loudly at your side, tail hovering between his legs as the other shifters look curiously in your direction, wondering what all the commotion is about.

Jungkook nuzzles his nose into your the crook of your elbow and then just below your rib cage, stepping onto your thigh in his attempt to get closer to your face so he can apologetically nuzzle your jaw. You push his face away in a panic, mortified that his tongue was in your mouth.

Jungkook whines louder, his ears pinned to the back of his head. You try not to scrape your tongue off with your nails, looking at Jungkook pace up and down with his worried eyes trained on you. You feel kind of bad, despite feeling like the victim in this situation, so you muster a small, slightly panicked smile. “Sorry, Kookie, it’s just that” —you exhale shakily— “you can’t just lick into my mouth, Koo. That’s just…”

He bows his head shamefully, his tail wrapping around his paws. You want to scream at him for looking so fucking sad, your stupid human brain only seeing an overgrown but cute dog who looks way too depressed for your heart to handle.

“I forgive you, but don’t do it again, okay?” You pat his head and twirl a finger around his soft ear, smiling when the end of his tail starts twitching. Jungkook barks happily at your forgiveness and stumbles to his feet so he can rest his head on your thigh, tail smacking your leg as it wags.

Your hands are on him immediately, petting him all over and carding through his fur. Jungkook can’t help but vibrate with pleasure, trying very hard to get it across to his wolf that crushing you under his weight is going to get the complete opposite reaction he wants. Your gentle touches knock the breath out of him. Make him submissive and pliant—some might even say pathetic.

He cringes at a memory from two weeks ago.

You were lying next to him, reading a book while he boredly played games on his phone. Turning to you, he positioned his head in your lap.

“I’m bored.”

“And I’m reading.”

He scoffed, pinching your leg. You yelped in surprise and Jungkook smirked smugly.

You resisted smacking him with the book. “Go to bed.”

“But it’s almost dinner,” he pouted. You rolled your eyes, muttering something that sounded oddly like ‘dumb puppy’.

“I’ll wake you when it’s ready. Sleep.”

Jungkook grumbled something under his breath but nevertheless turned onto his stomach, getting comfortable with his head in your lap, pouting. How could you—

His eyes widened a fragment as his entire body relaxed the moment your fingers started gently carding through his hair. He felt his wolf slowly coming to the forefront of his mind, practically purring with contentment as he nuzzled into your thigh, huffing out a wolfish breath.

You massaged his scalp and he let out a quiet moan of appreciation, pressing his face into your thigh to hide his heating cheeks. You laughed, your heart thundering against your rib cage. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and pressed his nose into your hipbone while holding himself to you possessively, little noises of pleasure falling from his lips while you played with his hair.

Jungkook shudders internally at the embarrassing recollection, his nose pressed into your hipbone like it was back then. That memory—though cringe-worthy—is a fond one.

He whines appreciatively when you scratch behind his ears, pressing his nose further into your hip. You chuckle lowly in response, your mouth moving with no sound coming out.

You’re in awe at just how thick his fur is. You could ball up a fistful of hair and still find more fur to grasp on to. You suppose it’s necessary to survive the winters, even though they probably spend most of their time indoors anyway… “You’re so cute!” you squeal softly, cupping Jungkook’s face and bringing your face close to his so you can stare into those large, expressive eyes of his.

He looks surprised at the sudden proximity but doesn’t try to pull away even after he goes cross eyed, his tail wagging excitedly behind him. You half forget that this is in fact your best friend, seeing him as just any other dog.

A very large, very intimidating dog.

“You’re just an overgrown puppy who enjoys some good ol’ pets, aren’t you? Just a big baby boy?” You giggle when he whines and aggressively stomped his feet, his eyes sparkling as he looks at you. Your thumbs trace over his eyes affectionately, smiling brightly at his obvious excitement.

You continue cooing at him unintelligibly, his inner pup yowling and whimpering desperately at the note of affection in your voice.

“Someone’s whipped,” Jimin snorts through their mind link, shaking his head.

“I’m not whipped—“ Jungkook tries to defend himself, though his aggressively wagging tail and barely contained whimpers give him away immediately.

“You’re acting like an overgrown puppy,” Rosé deadpans, her head raised so Lisa can groom the underside of her neck.

“No, I’m not,” he tries to defend himself, doing his best not to show his growing annoyance at his pack’s testing while you’re so close to his face, fighting with his wolf to not lick your face, no matter how much they both want to.

Taehyung snorts from where he’s laying half on top of Jimin, the two looking pleased that they’re getting a rise out of him. “Coochie coochie coo! Come here, Jungoo-baby, let your hyungs groom your fur!”

“Stop,” Jungkook warns them, trying to focus on your bright smile.

“Koo’s about to roll over and beg her to—“

You squeal in surprise and fright when Jungkook turns his head to the side to snarl at his pack-mates, your heart picking up speed and eyes widening. Your fight or flight kicks in, but Jungkook is laying half on top of you, and you’re afraid that if you move more he’ll get snappy.

Jungkook turns back to you with a small huff, licking your hand as an apology for scaring you, before ducking his head to nudge your pelvis insistently. You hesitantly pet him again, wary of another outburst. Jungkook huffs angrily, pinning his ears against his head. You don’t hold his face again, much to his chagrin.

This wouldn’t have happened if his idiot hyungs kept their mouths shut. He, albeit dejectedly, settles for nuzzling his nose into your stomach.

He’ll get face pets from you another time.

As the sun sets, Jungkook’s pack-mates head inside one by one, shifting where you can’t see. Jungkook’s tail lays lethargic and limp by his side, your long, rhythmic strokes over his head and down his spine making him drowsy.

“Y/N! Jungkook! Come inside! It’s getting late and we wanna order food,” Namjoon calls from the behind sliding door that leads to the patio.

“Coming!” you call back, gently shoving Jungkook off you despite his protests. You picture him whining that, “he doesn’t wanna go inside” and to, “keep petting him” in that annoyingly adorable aegyo voice he uses sometimes, but you manage to push the thought away and stand, stretching your legs.

“Let’s get some food, hm?” You roll your finger around his ear as he follows you on your heel, huffing and puffing annoyedly. It feels a bit like having those guard dogs you’ve seen on TV.

Jungkook shifts back in the comfort of his bedroom, running downstairs to join you in the living room where everyone’s busy watching a crime documentary and eating pizza. Strangely enough, you’re no where to be seen, the single seater that might as well have your name on it left unoccupied. “Where’s Y/N?”

“She’s in the kitchen grabbing something to drink,” Jennie supplies distractedly, stuffing her face with a large cheese pizza. Jungkook nods, stepping over everyone sitting on the floor to make himself comfortable in your chair.

When you come back, you see your spot has been taken and slump your shoulders. He grins at you cheekily, and you roll your eyes. You make a move to pass him so you can sit next to Lisa, but Jungkook intervenes quickly by shooting his legs out, causing you to screen to a halt to stop you from tripping over his stupidly long legs.

You glare at him pointedly, aggressively smacking his upper leg to get him to drop it to the floor. He pouts and makes grabby hands at you to come and sit with him in the single chair instead of with his pack mates, tilting his head cutely.

You sigh and shake your head, leaning over the coffee table to grab a slice of pepperoni pizza before turning to one very delighted Jeon Jungkook. He giggles softly as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap, his legs spread so that your ass is cushioned in his thighs. He rests his chin on your shoulder and holds you close, watching the TV with rapt attention. You smile at the doe-eyed look of concentration he has, chewing on the bite you just took while holding the slice over your shoulder for him to take.

He hums appreciatively when he digs his teeth into it, thanking you through a mouthful of pizza. “Don’t speak to me with your mouth full,” you scold with a playful flick to his cheek, shaking your head when he grins stupidly at you in response.

Jungkook trains his eyes on the side of your face as you lean into him, your eyes twinkling with pictures from the screen.

He has only one thought as he tightens his grip around your waist:

Though you might not be his just yet…

…he’s most definitely yours.

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