#purple flower girl dresses

[maxyvert]

Little lady with red hair 🌻

Drawn to test this Fabriano 50% cotton paper. It is nice for my painting style, my only complaint is it's very thin.

[enthusiastic-nimrod]

The Fabulous Miss Fuschia! I've had her sketch in my files for awhile now, so it was great to finally color her out.

[forestfae]

my new avatar 💜

[djevelbl]

Every single art offer I’ve seen I asked for a PrinceZam and this one is no different, can I please have a PrinceZam please please

something something "the girls the gays and PrinceZam.... now I can fall into either of these categories, I feel like, and there wouldn't be a problem, so you don't have to make that distinction anymore. Just saying"

I rewatched the ashswag and Parrot LS wedding not too long ago, and all I could think about — now that I know how Zam looks like IRL — was "this is kinda like Hercules Mulligan..." when he came down the isle throwing flowers,,,,,, so yea. this spawned. he's STILL rocking that dress tho

Thank you for your vote!

(click for better quality bc Tumblr is kind of a bitch ngl)

[jungle-golf]

the girl of all time 💜

[unprofessionaldoodler]

part 8 of the taffy series flavor: honey lavender

[fairie-petals]

Realistic Fairy (ai)

[agrimmbrothersgrimmestgoose]

I just have to say, my Gender Expression is unapologetically Sanji from One Piece and Momo Chiyoda from Demon Girl Next Door (ESPECIALLY season 2)

(I tried SO HARD but I couldn't find a good pick of Momo's cat shirt, just know those cats are YING YANG CATS! yes I have an embroidery pattern I painstakingly made, yes you can have it if you want just shoot me a message (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡)

They are just Butches your honor, but like my specific flavor of Butch and I love them and their fashion SO much

I deadass am teaching myself to sew partially cause I want better clothes w/o spending money AND cause I Need Embroidered Shit on my Hawaiian Shirts & They Don't Make Cat Graphic Tees Like Momo's But I Have A Needle And Hubris

Anyway, if you are looking for a sign to Steal His (your favorite character's look) this is it, don't let social rules stop you, you'll look hot as fuck

[lucidseduction]

[fracturedporcelaindoll]

Beautiful~

[sierra-censored]

✨️ Bride & Flower Girl Alterations ✨️Sides, hem, and bustle all times two!

[reddtulips]

tattoo artist x florist but it’s johnny as the tattoo artist and simon as the florist

johnny opens up a studio in london, with that industrial vibe and en entire wall that’s just exposed brick. he steps out one day for a smoke on a nice sunny day and takes notice of a flower shop across the street. his eyes focus on movement inside the shop, but the person seems a little tall. no matter, he doesn’t mind a tall girl, he’s taller either way. he expects to see a lovely lass dressed in a floral dress exit through the door, but he nearly chokes on cigarette smoke when a man the size of a tank walks out instead. he’s dressed in all black, a sleeve of tattoos covering his left arm and a surgical mask covering the bottom half of his face.

he’s carrying the biggest bouquet of flowers johnny’s ever seen, pink and purple and red flowers decorated with wrapping paper a similar hue to the flowers, and hands it to a lovely old lady that’s waiting out front. she’s grinning widely and nodding her head at the man who, johnny has concluded, is the lovely lass he expected.

the lady leaves with a bright smile on her face, and johnny, in a complete trance, watches the man retreat back into the flower shop.

the next day he goes to work, he’s greeted with a single red rose wrapped with a neat bow around the handle of the shop’s door. in a trance, he’s hurrying across the street to get the biggest bouquet he can afford, and hopefully the man’s phone number.

[shotmrmiller]

simon's many things. a retired fighter, for one. he hung his mma gloves a few of years ago with the excuse of getting older. he still sticks around, though— sitting in the front, so close to the hexagonal cage that his knees can touch the steel, occasionally gesturing price over to hand him a crinkled wad of cash.

gambling's illegal, you know.

thought you were a medic not a cop, pet.

a veterinarian.

good thing we're all dogs here, then.

he's also a bit unhinged, or so price says. you had pressed your tongue against the back of your teeth to keep from asking him if the hits simon's taken to the side of the head knocked a few things loose or if he was simply born that way. you'd be thoroughly unsurprised by the latter.

seen 'em take a man out with one ferocious hit— dislocated his jaw and retired him all in one second— all over cigarettes.

what, did they guy like steal them or something?

no. the prize for the winner of their fight was that pack of smokes.

incredible. (that's insane.)

he's also unrepentantly forward and a bit of a pervert, to boot. no explanation is needed.

lemme take ya out, love—

don't call me that.

and wear a pretty dress with heels. bet you'd look real good in—

stop talking, simon.

and now, you're about to find out that he's also, apparently, magnanimous.

a friday night's hustle and bustle has come and gone, as has the crowd that was in there earlier to watch a fight. the air smells of cheap alcohol and even cheaper cologne. the lighting inside is dim, casting a dull, almost sickly glow over wooden stands and the bloodied arena. the floor, once dry concrete, was now mud-slicked; drinks, urine, and spilled blood staining the surface. betting slips stick to your sneakers as you walk. (trudge, more like.)

with your worn medical supply bag around your shoulder, you tiredly head towards price's office whose metal door is being held open by an old barstool, and gently rap your knuckles on the frame. "i'm leaving, john."

he looks up at you, soft blue eyes crinkling over his glasses as he smiles. "sounds good, love. see ya later. want me to walk you out?"

always the gentleman. "no, i'm alright. i'm sure simon's out there waiting for me any—"

the metal entrance door slams open then, causing you to jump at the startling noise. you whip your head around and a resigned groan escapes your lips. it's simon and he's got bruised company. very bruised.

there's never any rest for the wicked.

"who's that?" john calls from behind you. "he lost?"

the guy whose arm is slung around simon's shoulders looks relatively young. thick, straight eyebrows, a swollen broken nose, and thin blood-crusted lips. the last time you saw a mohawk on someone, it'd been in the early 00s.

"somewhat but it's a good thing i found 'em," simon grunts. his eyes flash over to you. "can ya patch him up f'me, love? i'll go on tha' date you've been beggin' me for."

you ignore simon as you approach them both and tip the guy's head up with your fingers under his chin. searching in your front pocket, you tell him to look at you. "open your eyes as best you can, alright?"

his eyes are like sparkling blue gems— bright like the sky on a clear summer's day. he winces at the blinding white light emitting from the flashlight. "tha' necessary, lass? ah'm not seein' double, if tha's what ye lookin' fer."

he gives a pained grunt before simon tells him to stand still. "my girl here's the medic and what she says goes. clear?"

"crystal, sir." purple bruises are blooming like dark flowers around his left eye and right cheekbone, and the blood that oozed from his split lip long coagulated. his nose, however, continues to languidly drip crimson.

"not the worst break i've seen," you mutter.

the pair shuffle behind you quietly as you head toward the dedicated medical room. the sharp, clinical scent of antiseptic wafts through the air as the door swings open.

"sit, please," you gesture to the well-worn chair in the corner.

black latex gloves squeak in protest as you slide them on. "wanna tell me what's going on, simon? i'm not gonna fix the nose of a wanted murderer, am i?"

simon chuckles under his breath. "no. unlucky bloke chose to mug the wrong person. johnny here is real good at fightin', though, for someone with no real proper trainin'. figured i could give him a way to earn his money instead of stealin' it off of hard-workin' folk."

you hum and press your thumbs as gently as you can where the nasal fracture is. johnny hisses sharply and grips your wrist tightly. "easy. i barely touched it." you quickly tap the back of his hand with your knuckles. "let go, please. last thing i need is you tensing and breaking my arm."

he slackens his fingers and sits on both of his hands. "sorry, lass. ah'd never hurt a bonnie lass like ye. say, how'd ye even end up in the bowels of the city?"

his talking re-opened the cut on his upper lip, blood streaking his teeth pink. "i'm a charity case, just like you, i reckon."

johnny means to continue the conversation, but you take advantage of his distracted mind and push to the left, the sickening crunch of cartilage follows the adjustment. he curls in on himself and lets out a guttural noise that bounces off the white walls. "i'd be sorry but..." you trail off with a casual shrug.

pulling a clean rag from a basket nearby, you order johnny to sit up straight. "look up for me." he leans his head back, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "hold this there," he squeezes his eyes shut when you firmly press the rag under his nose, "you'll stop bleeding soon enough."

you swivel on your stool, turning your attention to simon who's been silently watching you work by the door. "any injuries on you?"

he pulls his balaclava up, revealing a blonde stubble and scarred lips. "i got an injury right," he points at his mouth, "here tha' you can kiss—"

"stop talking, simon."

johnny's laughter emerges from behind the crimson-stained cloth.

--

this is the first time you've ever seen simon in the ring.

simon, even while 'retired', fights with a viciousness that borders on primal. his snarl— a ravenous wolf's— bare crooked teeth that hunger for victory, for dominance.

even when he's merely teaching johnny how to survive in this subterranean battleground.

"there's no room for mercy, soap!" he bellows. his eyes are sharp as blades, holding an edge of madness. he charges forward with fists like sledgehammers, delivering blow after punishing blow; johnny's body paying the price for his mistakes.

pain is the currency in that pit of despair, laswell had once said.

simon is a beast in human skin, ferocity incarnate...and you don't remember the last time you were this aroused by such a brute display. if this is what he looks like now, after years of being the spectator and not the spectacle, you can only imagine him in the zenith of his strength, his power.

heat licks up your cheeks at the mere thought.

he looks like he was born and bred to fight. his crib must've been the stained mat he's dancing on, his lullabies the sound of fists making contact, forcing flesh to yield. his broad back bears the weight of history— jagged flesh that stretches taut with each swing.

"fight smart! rules dissolve once tha' bell tolls, mate. many come here for glory, others come for an escape but some--" simon ducks the undisciplined punch johnny throws and gives him a ruthless jab to the ribs once then another to the side of his cut jaw.

johnny falls like a tree that's been cut at the trunk, the sound his body makes on impact with the canvas echoing in the empty basement. his breathing comes in ragged bursts, sweat and trickles of blood mingling on his face. simon kneels next to him, grunting as he goes down. "some are only here for their next meal and those are the most dangerous."

he is in his element, all bruised flesh and bloodied nose.

oh no. johnny's nose is bleeding too. "simon!" his head snaps to you when you scream, eyes wide and unfettered. "i just fixed his nose, you dolt!" his expression softens then— furrowed brows and taut lips relax.

"he'll be alrigh'. even my nose whistles when i breathe," he remarks.

simpleton. nothing but fighting and gambling in that big head of his. "that doesn't mean that it's okay to break bones i mended a few days ago." you keep your eyes fixed on johnny, ignoring the way the heat that's radiating from simon's sweat-slick body seeps into your chilled skin. "why he call you soap, anyway? good at cleaning dishes?"

he slurs a little, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "'cuz ah'm a shlippery bashtard."

you bite on your tongue, hoping that his slurring is because he's still mildly dazed from the punch and not something worse.

"wha' about me, love? i've got a beaten face too, y'know." you look at him then, narrowing your eyes as you take his bare face in. the bridge of his nose is pretty swollen, and you can see the onset of bruising already happening. it's also freely dribbling blood.

"shit, let me go get my medbag."

he hooks his fingers around the loops of your jeans, keeping you in place. "'fraid of a little blood, are ya? i think you'd look real good with me on you."

a jolt of arousal shoots up your spine unbidden, blooming desire, focus wavering. your breath catches and pupils dilate as they lock with his rich, brown ones.

"oi, get a room, aye?" johnny's hoarse voice snaps you back to the present, your thunderous heartbeat ebbing away like a tide from shore.

"whenever you want, sweetheart," simon purred. the lump lodged in your throat makes it hard to respond. "get the bag 'fore i bleed out. price will have my head if i drop dead on his mat."

you blink and scramble away on shaky legs and weak knees.

[lucidseduction]

[lunamoonbby]

Warning: fluff, stay at home mom, female reader, slight nsfw at the end, nothing to major.

Imagine Husband! Simon Riley, who is living the life he's a retired military man with a wife and a 3 year old girl, and his retirement check from the military is 6 figures, and he picked up a job at the mechanic so his wife can be a stay at home mommy, it's the weekend a Saturday and Simon and his wife are cuddling on the couch while watching their baby girl playing with her toys on the floor. Baby girls try to climb on the couch, and Mama picks her up and says, "Hi my baby, what can I do for you?"Mama daughter date!" Replied baby girl "okay if we get dressed now, we can start Mama and daughter date with lunch." "Okay mama" so mama and baby girl go get ready for the day and they come out with matching pastel purple dress but mama went in Simon's wallet to get his card so mama and baby girl can have their date. While their out simon gets notifications from the bank about purchases made with his card, but he doesn't notice cause his phone is on silent and when mama and baby girl come home baby girl gives simon a flower and says, "thank you for mommy and daughter day." Simon confused, "you're welcome, baby girl." And baby girl runs off, and lovie is like," Here is your card. Thank you for sponsoring Mommy and Daughter Day, and tonight we can have mommy and Daddy night in our bedroom after baby girl is asleep." While rubbing her finger up and down his pec. "I love the sound of that lovie." Simon kissing his lovie.

[sxgakookie]

Summary: Your husband, BTS’ Jung Kook, hasn’t been spending enough time at home with you or his daughter, Ji-ah. He decides to remind you both how important his girls are to him. Genre: Slight Angst (Ji-ah misses her dad), Fluff, Smut (idol!Jung Kook, dad!Jung Kook x Reader) Ratings/Warnings: Adults Only (Oral Sex [f receiving], shower sex, dirty talk, shower sex, orgasm [m+f]) Word Count: ~2.7k Author’s Note: I may make a Part 2 to follow this, if y’all like it! Just let me know if you’d like more from this little family! x

Jung Kook had never been as disappointed in himself as he was in that moment. 

A little after two in the morning, with the jingling of his keys, he opened up the locked door to find a dark living room, only lit by the large television still streaming cartoons at a low volume from above the unlit fireplace. He could see, as he kicked off his shoes next to the front door, two sleeping figures snuggled into each other on the large, sectional sofa. 

Jung Kook quietly walked over to see you, the love of his life and the mother of his daughter, sleeping uncomfortably on the couch. You looked absolutely exhausted, with your hair unbrushed and dark circles under your eyes. You were in the same pajamas he had left you in that morning, and resting in your arms, was his little girl. Ji-ah, who took after you in so many ways, was sleeping in your lap in almost the same position. Her head rested against your chest, and her small hands gripped onto the sleeves of your henley shirt. Her eyes fluttered as she was dreaming, and her small lips were parted.  

Jung Kook kneeled down next to the sofa and brushed a soft piece of hair from your face, admiring how even when completely burned out, you’re still so, incredibly beautiful. 

Your eyes fluttered under the warmth of his touch, letting out a soft hum as you leaned into his hand. 

“Honey?” You whispered. “Is that you?” 

“It’s me, baby. I’m home.” He whispered. “I’m going to take Ji-ah to her room, ok? Why don’t you go to our room and get some rest?” 

“Mm’kay.” You said, feeling the warmth of your daughter’s little body taken from your weak arms. 

Jung Kook walked down the hallway with Ji-ah snuggled into his arms. He tried to limit the harshness of his step, but his little girl had stirred awake anyways. 

“Appa?” She murmured, her tiny voice causing Jung Kook’s heart to warm. 

“Hi, princess.” He whispered. His tattooed hand ran up and down her little back, trying to coax her back to sleep. “Appa’s just taking you to your room, ok? So Umma can sleep.” 

“Umma was sleeping.” She pouted, correcting her Appa as she pressed her face into his neck. 

“I know, baby.” Jung Kook said gently. “But you need to sleep in your big girl bed by yourself tonight, ok?” 

She sighed, and Jung Kook held in a laugh. His baby definitely got her sass from her mother, but was too worn out to argue. 

When he reached her bedroom, he turned on the light to its dimmest setting, not wanting to overwhelm Ji-ah with a bright light. He walked past Barbie dolls, a play kitchen set, and a bookshelf of children’s books with a soft pink reading chair next to it. Scattered on the floor were tiny dresses from her dress up trunk; a white, wooden box that Ji-ah and Jung Kook had painted together one summer afternoon. His expertly painted butterflies and flowers sat side by side with her messy lines of purple and pink paint. 

Jung Kook settled her into her twin size bed, tucking her in and whispering an “I love you”, before kissing her hair. He turned to go to you, when her voice perked up. 

“Appa!” She wined, sitting up in her bed. 

“Yes, baby?” Jung Kook asked, crouching down to be eye level with the little girl. 

She became quiet. Ji-ah sat with a pout on her tiny lips, and she began to play with her blanket as a way to self-soothe. Jung Kook watched her face as she began to cry, tears running down her soft, squishy cheeks. 

“Why are you crying, princess?” Jung Kook asked, his heart dropping at the sight of his baby crying. 

She didn’t answer. Instead, she chose to make grabby hands towards him as she cried, shattering his heart. 

“Sweetie…” He cooed. Jung Kook somehow managed to make room for his big body in her twin bed, pulling her into his arms to comfort her. He wiped the tears from her cheek. “Shh, I’m right here. Can you tell Appa what’s wrong?” 

“Hurt.” She sniffles, wiping her own eyes with the back of her little hand. 

“Hurt?” Jung Kook asks, his brows furrowed as his protectiveness bubbled up. “Do your feelings hurt, or does your body hurt?” 

It was a question Jung Kook had heard you ask Ji-ah during one of her fits, teaching her to articulate her needs. 

“Feelings.” She murmured. 

“Can Appa know why your feelings are hurt?” Jung Kook asked gently, brushing her hair from her face soothingly. His mind went to a thousand terrible places, wanting to get rid of whatever could’ve hurt his little girl. “You know you can tell me anything, ok baby? Appa will make it better.” 

The answer, however, felt like a gut punch to Jung Kook. 

“Miss you.” She mumbled, moving in closer to the comfort of her Appa’s presence. 

Jung Kook instinctively wrapped his arms around her, as he held back his own tears. He knew he had been working way, way too much. He was increasingly coming home late, and leaving early in the morning. He had little to no time for either his daughter, or for you. It was something he felt guilty about, but he told himself that Ji-ah didn’t notice, and that he was doing good by making sure his family was provided for. 

But providing for his family meant more than just having food on the table. It meant that everyone sat together at the table. Ji-ah had noticed his empty chair after all, and now, she cried for his attention and told him her feelings were hurt. Jung Kook had never felt so angry with himself, holding her in his arms a little tighter. 

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He whispered. “Appa’s been gone a lot, haven’t I?” 

“Mhm.” She hummed, nodding her head against his chest. “Want you to play with me.” 

Jung Kook remembered playing with his daughter every day; letting her put clips in his dark hair during dress up time, color in his tattoo sleeve with a magic marker as if it were a coloring book, or doing cartoony voices as Ken to her Barbie, making Ji-ah light up the room with sweet giggles. (“That’s silly, Appa!”) 

She should never have to cry for his attention and for more play time together. Jung Kook knew that, and it made him feel painfully guilty for not prioritizing their time together. 

“Listen, baby.” Jung Kook said delicately, rubbing her back comfortingly as she quieted down from her cries. “I’ll be home more, so we can play together, ok? I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. Appa has been working very hard for you and Umma, but we’ll do lots of fun things together soon.” 

“Umma?” She sniffled, making Jung Kook coo. 

“With Umma.” He smiled warmly. “Can I tell you something, sweetie?” 

“A secret?” She whispered, with her big brown eyes sparkling as her gaze met his own. Jung Kook grinned at his little girl’s playfulness. 

“A secret.” Jung Kook confirmed. She giggled mischievously. “You and Umma, are my favorite girls in the entire world.” 

Ji-ah’s smile became wider and she kicked her little feet under the blanket. Jung Kook peppered little kisses all over he cheeks, making her break out in a fit of happy giggles. This was all he’s ever wanted; his little girl to feel safe, taken care of and happy in the security of his arms; to protect and provide for his girls. 

When Ji-ah finally settled down, Jung Kook whispered another “I love you” to her, and placed one more kiss to her dark hair. 

“Love you!” She responded, watching as Jung Kook turned off her ceiling light, flipped the switch on for her butterfly-shaped night light, and shut her door for the night. 

He walked into the now empty living room, and cleaned up a few pink sippy cups, plastic snack plates, and throw blankets that were tossed around. Jung Kook thought to how you must’ve felt during all those days when he was gone. Waking up to an empty bed, and going to bed alone, too. Cooking, cleaning, and being a mother to Ji-ah on your own for several months. 

You never complained. Never told him you felt sad, or alone, because you understood how time-intensive his work as an idol can be. But Jung Kook knew that was no reason to leave you completely alone, and although you understood and supported him, Jung Kook wanted you to know that he was there for you, too. 

He turned off the lights and went into the bedroom, where your exhausted form slept soundly. Jung Kook thought back to your appearance today; exhausted, dark circles under your eyes and pajamas that you just never had time to change out of. It broke his heart because you give so much of yourself for your daughter. 

Jung Kook went into the master bathroom attached to the bedroom to take a shower. He thought about how little time he’s spent with you, too. When was the last time he took you out on a real, proper date? When was the last time he cooked for you, something that he used to do all the time? When was the last time he took his time to really make love to you, not just a quickie during Ji-ah’s nap time or before she came home from daycare? 

He wanted to make you feel beautiful, needed and appreciated. Jung Kook stepped out of the shower, drying off his toned body with a white towel before putting on a fresh pair of boxers and pajama pants to finish his routine. He climbed into bed next to you, and pulled you in to him, holding you close in his arms. You were wearing a soft, large t-shirt that he knew to be his own. 

“I love you, baby.” He whispered, knowing you wouldn’t hear him in your sleep. “I’m so sorry I let you down.” 

The next morning, you woke up to tingling in between your legs. Your eyes were shut, but as you slowly came out of your sleep, you felt soft, wet kisses up your thighs. 

You hummed, and felt a nibble to your skin. 

“Shhh,” Jung Kook whispered, tucked under the sheets and nestled in between your thighs. “Just relax baby girl, let me take care of you.” 

“Koo…” You hummed. “I… I’m not pretty there right now, I haven’t shaved or-“ 

“You’re so beautiful.” He reassured you, continuing to kiss your skin. “So perfect and so sexy, just how you are. Relax for me, honey. Just wanna give your pretty pussy some love and attention, ok?” 

Jung Kook peppered soft kisses along your delicate folds, warming your pussy to his touch. It had been quite some time since he’s pleasured you like this, and he imagined that you were sensitive. Correctly, it seemed, because even with the slightest flick of his tongue to graze your opening, testing the waters, you whimpered. 

“Shhh, quiet, baby girl.” He whispered. “We can’t wake up Ji-ah… Wanted you for myself this morning.” 

You smiled at the warmth of his voice, and curled your toes as his tongue licked deeper and deeper into your most sensitive spots, drinking from your body. You began to grip the sheets as his tongue moved up, finding your sensitive clit and gave slow, pressured licks. 

“Oh, fuck…” You whispered, trying to contain yourself. Your hands gripped the pillows by your head. 

Jung Kook, buried under the blankets, couldn’t see you, much to his frustration. Without disconnecting his tongue to your delicate pearl, he lifted the blankets off of him, so he could watch your face as you gave into the pleasure he provided. 

He listened to your little whimpers, egging him on to continue. His own cock was hard and leaking in his pants, which he soothed only somewhat successfully by rutting into the mattress. Jung Kook wanted so badly to take you completely, but he had a plan. This morning was completely about you. 

He slid one finger into your opening, gently and lovingly working your body to take him again, watching your expression for signs of discomfort. Your pussy had always been small, needing to be stretched patiently, and Jung Kook was eager to please. Once his finger was completely in, he pulled out and pushed back in, repeating his movements with the continued roll of his wet tongue on your clit. 

“Jung Kook… fuck… please, baby…” You babbled in a quiet voice. 

Then another finger, stretching you a little more. His own length was pressing uncomfortably between his stomach and the mattress below, but Jung Kook focused his attention on you. He boldly sucked on your clit, making you cover your mouth to hold back a loud whine. 

“That’s it, baby girl.” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your sweet clit. Jung Kook curled his fingers just right, making you grip the pillows even harder somehow. “You like that, baby? Hm? You’re dripping wet. Wanna watch you cum for me.” 

“Jung Kook..” You chanted, moving a hand to find the dark locks of his hair and run your fingers through them. Jung Kook lowered himself back to your clit, finding the steady rhythm and pressure that he knew would break down the last of your walls. 

He knew he found the right combination, when your grip of his hair tightened. Jung Kook wrapped a strong arm around one of your thighs, just enough to keep you held down to the bed, so he could taste every last drop without having you squirm away from the intensity of the pleasure. Keeping you locked in place, he worked your body like breaking into a lock; the curl of his fingers, the pressure and rhythm of his tongue’s wet and gentle massage to your clit. Each movement worked together to unlock your climax, which came crashing onto the bed with shaking legs, curling toes, and pulling Jung Kook’s hair. 

He loved watching you come undone just for him. Jung Kook held your shaking legs, and slowly, steadily, brought you back down to earth. His licks became even more delicate, careful not to overstimulate you, but enough to drink you in. He slowly pulled his fingers out of the warmth of your opening, before crawling on top of your spent body. 

“Taste it?” He asked, raising his wet fingers to you. You looked at him with innocent eyes as you parted your lips, and let him slide in on your tongue. 

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He whispered, watching and feeling the way you sucked his fingers clean. 

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, and kissed your lips lovingly. His kisses moved down, from your lips to your cheeks, then your jaw, and down your neck. 

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He whispered. “You have no idea what you do to me, honey. So fucking beautiful.“

“Jung Kook.” You cooed and blushed, feeling him nibble and suck love marks into your neck. 

“Take a shower with me, before she wakes up.” He proposed. “I’m not ready to let you go just yet, baby.” 

The morning before Ji-ah woke up was peaceful, and deeply intimate. You couldn’t stand to not help your husband with his aching cock, letting the hot shower water steam up the bathroom to cover the lewd scene, where Jung Kook pressed your naked body into the tile wall of the large shower and sunk his length deep into your pussy. The running water gave cover to the grunts, whimpers, and the dirty but loving words that followed. With stuttered curses and deep, breathy moans against your neck, Jung Kook spilled into you. It was the first time he had been truly intimate with you in so long, and his body must’ve craved your body’s warmth, desperately releasing everything he had deep into you. 

When you exited the shower, you both got dressed in comfortable clothes just in time, as Ji-ah’s little feet could be heard tapping against the hardwood floors of the home. 

“Stay here.” He murmured, hugging you from behind in the warm bathroom, placing a kiss to you cheek. “Take your time getting ready, ok? No rush. I’ll take care of her.” 

“You sure?” You asked, as you were so used to being the first one to go to her. 

“Definitely.” He smiled, thinking back to his promise to the little girl.