#reaction shots

[khakilike]

Tracker S02E04 "Noble Rot"

[thesobsister]

Now having gotten to episode 43 of the first set of One Piece episodes, which, more or less, brings me to where the live-action series ended, I can say that, without reaction shots, each episode would shave off, roughly, 20 minutes from the 25-minute running time.

[delcat177]

[onlyswan]

summary: in which for you, jungkook would commit crimes and his mother would peel oranges.

idol!jk x reader | fluff, angst | word count: 9.5k

warnings/content: oc passes out in the shower / jk does something crazy i’m literally insane about this / baby bam cameo 🥺 / stitches >:( / blood draw / mention of speeding / jealous not but rlly jealous oc is pissed owfffff at the nurse who has a crush on jk lmao / jk and his mom loves them to death tho so obv who wins / love is beautiful let’s all cry <3

> in which masterlist!

note: *sitcom sound effect of crowd cheering* I’M BACK 🥰 hope u enjoy the product of my madness during finals season hehehe. and special thanks to my cutieful proofreader rio!! you’re one of my most favorite people i’ve ever met 🥺💕 + my beloveds who came to the rescue when i had medical questions !! i didn’t expect to receive help from soooo many and i’m so freaking grateful i could cri :")

—

“i ordered it the other day. how did it arrive so early?”

jungkook walks back inside the apartment, arms occupied by a stack of boxes that arrived in the mail yesterday.

he arrives at the living room, head tilting to the side in confusion when he realizes that the netflix show he was watching on the television is no longer playing. instead, there is the news channel.

he gasps.

“baby, you’re alive!”

your swollen eyes flicker up to him.

you’re lying on the sofa with your legs lazily dangling on the edge. there’s a toothbrush in your mouth, foam of bubbles between your lips, but your arm barely exerts the energy to make it do its job.

“you were asleep from afternoon to morning. do you know that? you’ve never done that before!” he exclaims, carelessly tossing the boxes on the floor. “i was getting scared!”

you only hum to acknowledge his existence, pushing yourself up from the sofa and unknowingly dodging the hug your boyfriend wanted to greet you with.

he ends up collapsing face first on the empty space you left, hurt and offended.

the bathroom door opens and closes.

he flips over, whining. “yah, we didn’t see each other for a day. didn’t you miss me?!”

still not a single word from you. sleeping that long must not have cured your exhaustion, jungkook surmises. you tend to be glum and cranky when you’re feeling unwell, as is usually the case when you wake up as unrested as before.

he doesn’t always know how to make you feel better, but he always tries anyway.

“our new bedsheets arrived!” he announces from the other side of the bathroom door, making himself loud so that you can hear him despite the shower running. “do you want to unbox them with me?!”

he allows the seconds to pass, but with his hands on his hips, he eventually begins to tap his foot on the floor.

“baby? may i go in?”

he turns the knob, just to be prepared incase the answer is a yes, but it doesn’t turn. a sad pout forms on his face.

huh? why is it locked?

you must genuinely don’t want to be bothered today.

“guess that’s a no.” he mutters to himself before calling out to you. “okay, i’ll wait for you!”

with a crestfallen sigh, he begins to walk back to the living room.

he doesn’t go far, however.

only several steps later, a series of loud crashes is heard from the bathroom and his heart thunders in his chest with a combination of numbing shock and fear.

“____, what was that?! did you fall?!”

he aggressively pounds at the door, extremely desperate this time around. he has no plans on leaving until he knows that you’re safe and sound.

“baby! open this! are you alright…? are you hurt? you’re scaring me. please, answer!”

he pauses, catching his breath as his mind runs a thousand miles per hour.

“____!”

he strikes the door with an open palm one more time, more so to express his frustration that is only growing worse with every tick of the clock. he only ends up hurting himself in the process.

“that’s it! i’m opening the door!”

he frantically whips his head around, racking his brain for the location of the key. there are two copies of it somewhere in the apartment, but in his panicked state, he is unable to pinpoint either of their specific spots. and he can’t fucking afford to waste any more time.

“ah, fuck!” he curses, left with no other choice but to give in to the instinct of breaking down the door with the strength and durability of his body alone.

he would most definitely break his shoulder first before the door.

only after the first try, that much is clear.

and so, with madness inconsiderate of his agony, he resorts to kicking it over and over again.

the repeated loud collisions rattles poor bam from his slumber. not long after, the dog’s barking creates a booming dissonance with his grunts and kicks at the door.

when it finally swings open, the force of his own body sends him stumbling on the bathroom floor, but he doesn’t waste time in bouncing back to his feet.

the twisting of his stomach is instantaneous.

there lies your naked, unconscious figure behind the glass— surrounded by bottles of hair and body products that must have fallen when your hands were searching for something to hold on to.

his voice cracks, breathless.

“baby, no… no, no, no.”

he kneels on the floor, and despite the strong urge to carry you out of there, he tries to calm down. it’s the first rule in every emergency case; professionals reiterate in seminars and news channel segments.

keep calm. keep calm. keep calm.

he won’t be able to forgive himself if he ends up causing more harm than good.

“____, can you hear me?!”

his instinct tells him to inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury, but then his vision becomes too blurry. he curses at the hindrance and forces himself to turn off the showerhead that was left running.

he harshly wipes his face, rushing back to you.

“please, please, please. wake up.” he begs.

he has a feeling that it’s futile. you can’t hear him and he’s wasting his breath. the thing is he doesn’t know what else to do.

“baby…”

he carefully turns your head over, almost relieved because he hasn’t seen blood so far.

almost.

at last, he gets a full view of your face, and he finds blood dripping. this has always been one of his most paralyzing fears— seeing you get hurt. now that it’s become a reality, there’s a part of him that wants to believe this is some kind of twisted dream.

“how- how did this even happen…?” he cries out, his own blood running cold.

for everything that happens after, his body acts on its own. bam is a constant presence in his peripheral, but he is barely in his right mind to acknowledge the presence aside from, “bam, move. daddy might step on you.”

he carries you out of the bathroom, kicking aside the beaten up door. he has made up his mind about bringing you to the hospital, but he can’t bring you like… this.

he lays you down on the bed, all that gentleness switched off in a split second so he can sprint to the walk-in closet. he hastily grabs whatever is on top of your neatly folded stacks of shirts and pants; and then a fresh towel on the way out. the gentleness returns as he pats your face dry, the pure white stained with dark red. he flips the towel and uses the other side to wipe the rest of your body, in a race against time but mindful of treating you like fragile glass.

once that is over, he dresses you in a pair of gray sweatpants, and with some difficulty, an orange t-shirt.

any person with functioning eyes will be able to tell that the shades don’t go together.

if you were conscious, you’d definitely berate him for making you wear this outfit.

but you’re not.

jungkook effortlessly swoops you in his arms— dripping wet hair, his and yours, leaving behind a trail of raindrops from your apartment floor to the cemented parking lot.

—

your body feels like it’s floating.

are you dreaming…?

you must be dreaming.

you hear an uncoordinated symphony of voices, but you can’t comprehend a word. in pursuit of clarity, you force yourself to open your eyes.

the voices grow a little louder. faceless figures hover you; a bright light shines over your face.

your senses must be playing cruel tricks. now it feels like you’re drowning, sinking into the unknown, and your body has succumbed into numbing defeat.

you want to sleep a little more.

you must truly be exhausted. it’s okay.

you’ve fought hard until now. you’ve done enough… has anyone tried in life as much as you did?

just as your eyes flutter shut, you regain sensation of your hand; a soft squeeze and a call of your name.

—

jungkook gently strokes your hair, sighing for the nth time since you got transferred to a private room. he’s relieved that all the scans came back clean so serious head and brain injuries have been ruled out. the doctor also asked him questions and ran some other tests before concluding that electrolyte imbalance caused you to pass out; the culmination of stress and fatigue from work, as well as your strong period, most likely being the main reasons. he didn’t even know about the latter until you stained the white sheets with blood.

it was fucking frightening being in the sidelines as they rushed to check on your vitals and to administer oxygen. even now, it’s unbearable to see you with a needle in your hand and a few stitches above your eyebrow. he already anticipated you not being pleased with having to get stitches specifically either; gasping and sitting up as soon as you heard the word come from his lips post-consciousness. consequently, the dizziness hits you. the doctor wasn’t happy about that.

“this is so annoying. i don’t want a scar.” you whine as you study your face on the camera of jungkook’s phone. “did i have to fall on my prettier side?”

“what are you saying? you’re pretty from any angle.” he interjects. “be careful. the wound might open up.”

you jut out your bottom lip, looking up at him with glassy eyes. the sight instantly tugs at his heartstrings, and he pulls you in for a hug. maybe he’s a little sad that you don’t appear concerned about the fact that you passed out, but god is he relieved to finally hear your voice again.

“ah, i should call the doctor.”

but his face remains buried in your hair.

“they told me to do so.”

“you should-”

“why?!” he abruptly reacts, drawing back. “does anything hurt?”

“chill. you said that they told you to.”

“oh, that’s right.” he sheepishly smiles. he can’t help but to overreact; he hasn’t turned off the alarms in his head. “i’ll go tell the nurse to get her.”

he starts to walk towards the door, but a tug at his shirt holds him back.

you shyly look at him with a scrunch of your nose. “i’m nervous. hug me for five more seconds.”

fuck, he would move heaven and earth to protect you from everything that can cause you harm.

“why would you be nervous? i’m right here.” he scolds you lightheartedly, not hesitating to seize the chance to hug you again. “i love you.”

“i love you more.”

you pull away after five seconds, and he’d be disappointed about you being too true to your words if you didn’t kiss him on the cheek so ardently.

his heart almost jumps out of his chest when you gasp out of nowhere as if you just realized that you left the gas tank open at home. your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

“bam!”

oh, right. your child.

“my brother’s house!” he eases your mind.

you breathe out in relief, the heel of your palm pressing against the left side of your chest where your heart lives. “good… i was worried. he was probably more scared because he didn’t understand what was going on. i feel bad.”

you love bam so much; it makes him so happy. you’re so concerned about him even when you’re the one on the hospital bed. you make pretty good parents, huh?

“that’s right. he was worried about you, too. that’s why you need to recover quickly so he won’t be sad!”

—

the doctor kindly asked jungkook to give the two of you some time alone, so he’s been idly sitting at the lobby after buying a bottle of water. he’s pretty much used to visiting the hospital for routine checkups considering the nature of his job, but it always feels strange to be here for the other different purposes of the place.

is there any other building sadder than this?

if you heard him utter this question, he could easily predict what you’d say: but is there any other building with more love?

if he tries hard enough, he could listen to your voice and paint you in his mind.

you see love in every place that you step foot into.

his curious eyes continue to wander around. he spots people carrying flowers, baskets, and containers of food. there’s also a teenage boy in his high school uniform, carrying a teddy bear larger than him.

not that he wants you to stay longer, but if you have to, he writes down a mental note to bring one of your favorite plushies.

he eventually gets tired; considers scrolling on his phone again, but he decides against it when his gaze lands on a little boy sleeping soundly on his mother’s lap. suddenly, he is reminded of his childhood before he moved to seoul.

how simple life can be when you’re innocently sleeping on your mother’s lap, trusting that everything will be alright.

“ah, i miss my mom…” he utters absentmindedly. “i miss my mom so much. i should call her.”

his reminiscing is interrupted when a wheelchair rolls by infront of him. it is leisurely being pushed by an old man who wants to bring his wife outside for some fresh air.

in a parallel universe somewhere, jungkook can imagine them as you and him.

he sits up straight, looking back at the clock on the wall.

how long has it been? he wants to be by your side again.

—

“jungkook!” your face lights up as soon as your boyfriend steps into the room. “what took you so long?”

“i know. sorry, baby. i got a little distracted outside.”

“i’ve been waiting.” you pout. “why? were people bothering you?”

“not at all. don’t worry.”

you pat the empty space beside you. “here.”

“i think the bed is meant for only one person- damn, okay, okay-”

he swiftly gives in upon seeing the hurt on your face, occupying the space you reserved for him. “i love you. don’t be sad.”

you’re aching too much to wait for him to get settled. you wrap your arms around his waist like you’re a magnet attracted to steel, clinging to him for comfort.

if you’re being honest, you don’t know how you feel about being in this situation. overwhelmed? maybe a tiny bit relieved. in the past, it didn’t matter whether you were sick or not. you needed to work or else it was guaranteed that you wouldn’t survive. life is easier now. you have the luxury to use this as a reason to take a break. you have someone who takes care of you as naturally as he breathes.

“how was the doctor?”

“she’s nice… she just asked me about the things i remember before i passed out. then about my work, diet, sleeping schedule… stuff like that.”

you pull away a little, just enough so you can see each other’s face. you squint at him suspiciously. “did you have to get an expensive room?”

he chuckles. “how did you know? they didn’t tell you that, did they?”

“i literally have the perfect view of the fountain from here!” you point at the large window behind you. “i just passed out. i would’ve been fine downstairs.”

“don’t say it like that. it could’ve been so much worse.” he says with knitted eyebrows, palm cupping the back of your head and caressing softly.

he heaves a sigh.

“i was so scared that you injured your head. seriously, i thought i’d go insane if i lost you! i went past the speed limit driving you here!”

the distress he was under is apparent. you can’t help but to be racked with the guilt. you always do this, making him worry himself to death. you don’t usually do it purpose, and that only makes you feel shittier.

“you’re right. i’m sorry.”

“well, i…” he sighs. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t want this either. it’s not your fault.”

you press your lips into a thin line. “it kind of is.”

your lost eyes meet, and a connection is established like it’s a constellation sending a secret message. your heart flutters when he giggles, dimples and starry eyes and crinkled corners.

“stop it. it’s impossible to scold you when you’re so cute and self-aware.”

“then don’t scold me.” you sniffle sadly to kindle pity in him. “i’ve had enough of it from the doctor.”

your brain still works well enough to help you escape from trouble. that’s a good sign, right?

“my poor baby.” he coos, cradling your cheeks.

his hands are warm. you put yours over them; a wordless signal telling him you don’t want him to go away.

“let’s not get hurt again, please. we need to stay healthy and take good care of ourselves so this won’t happen again, alright?”

you nod in obedience. your eyes are fixed on him but you’re not certain if you’re registering what he’s telling you in your pitiful, shaken brain.

“the hospital already did me many favors. if we go back, i might have to build them another fountain as a gift.”

and knowing jungkook, with his golden heart and his black card, jokes become half-meant.

“what do they need that for?!”

he bursts out laughing, yet again, after you chide at him for his ridiculous and unnecessary expenses.

“nothing, i’m just grateful! i was really so scared but i’m relieved now thanks to them. i can’t remember the last time i felt that way.”

“you’re not scared of a lot of things.” you point out.

“that’s right.” he agrees. “only you scare me these days.”

you grimace. “am i scary?”

“you are, sometimes.” he laughs, squishing your cheeks together. “but i mean the things that could hurt you.”

as if on cue, your stomach grumbles and bellows like a monster stuck in an empty cave. your eyes grow twice its size in bewilderment, which then morphs into embarrassment.

“my stomach hurts.” you say quietly.

your nostrils flare as jungkook miserably fails to hold back his laughter. one of his hands leave your face, rubbing your tummy over the thin hospital gown.

“oh no, what are we going to do? where does it hurt? here?” he pouts. “should we go feed you now to make it go away?”

“what is wrong with you?” you slap his shoulder in annoyance. “i’m not a baby!”

“yah, be careful!” he yells, wincing as if he is the one in pain. “be gentle with the one with the iv!”

—

“you know one good thing that came out of this?” you gush out of nowhere.

you’re mixing up the ingredients of your bibimbap bowl with a spoon and a pair of chopsticks.

jungkook noisily drinks the final sips of his banana milk. afterwards, he makes a game out of shooting the box in the trash bin.

“what could that be?” he asks, doubtful.

he sits on the chair beside your bed. you greet him with a delighted grin, licking your thumb stained with gochujang.

“you proved your love. you committed a crime for me.”

he gasps to humor you, body freezing as if he’s currently processing the newly-learned information in his brain.

“oh? you’re right- i did! and you know what? i’d do it again!”

with a mouthful of rice, you shake your head in disagreement furiously. “you’re cute. but that’s the first and last.”

“but how are you sure that it’s the first?” he raises an eyebrow quizically.

silly enough, you envy him for being able to do so.

you hum in thought. “i guess you’ve stolen a few things for me, too.”

“few? you mean a loooot?”

“you’re the one who brings home food and random things.” you roll your eyes. “i never ask you to.”

“you told me you wanted the service bell!”

you feel yourself become flushed with sheepishness. he’s not lying. you’ve always found the object fascinating as a child, so you couldn’t help but to tell him to sneakily take one home after filming a competitive run bts episode.

did you have a silly phase where you and jungkook used it to summon each other just to laugh together about it?

perhaps.

“well, you’re rich. you could’ve bought me one instead.”

“but it was already there.” he reasons with a wide grin, gesturing infront of him. “i wanted to give it to my lover right away.”

his lover?

jungkook has successfully replaced your frown with an enamored smile.

“i made your heart flutter just now, didn’t i?”

a hospital stay has never felt this comfortable— not terrifying. you have stitches on your face and to add to that, this hospital gown feels super unflattering. somehow, your boyfriend’s loving gaze remains steady and you are melting.

“shut up,” you mutter, flustered, handing him the pair of chopsticks. “please eat with me. i can’t finish this on my own.”

—

“why would you let them put the needle in my dominant hand?”

you stomp your feet on the ground as jungkook squeezes some toothpaste onto a newly-bought toothbrush.

“i’m sorry! i was too stressed out so i just pointed! i think i got confused with- with left and right.”

you didn’t realize this while you were eating; that you were unconsciously holding the spoon with your non-dominant hand because the other felt uncomfortable. maybe because it was a simple task, scooping food and bringing it to your mouth. brushing your teeth, on the other hand… can be quite an arm workout.

“eeeee!”

he shows his complete set of teeth, urging you to do the same. you stare at him blankly.

“eeeee!” he repeats with heightened enthusiasm.

left with no other choice— you copy his awkward smile.

“there we go!” he praises you with an over-enthusiastic beam.

he carries on to brush your teeth, gingerly holding your chin to keep you steady as he does his job.

this is the first time jungkook is doing this for you. today is definitely not one of your finest moments. it feels a bit silly to be in this situation, and you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in this position in the first place. you can see that he’s trying his best—unnecessarily focused—and that he loves you, but you just hate giving him a hard time.

with a soft smile, he wipes the bubbles that overflowed past your lips.

“okay, spit.”

you spit out more of the bubbles on the sink. you assume that he’s finished, except he’s making another vowel sound for you to mimic the mouth shape of.

“ahhhh-”

“this is embarrassing!”

“baby, really? this is where you draw the line?” he playfully squeezes your cheeks together. “it’s almost over! ahhhh!”

and you let him do this thing, but not without a glare that is masking the embarrassing truth: you might be enjoying this more than you care to admit.

“see? was that so bad?”

as he tenderly pats your face dry in the aftermath, he says: “i’m sorry. bear with it a little more. let me take care of you so you’ll be healthy again.” and you feel every ounce of his sincerity pierce through the barriers surrounding your soul.

“stop it…” your voice suddenly comes out broken.

you want to put all the blame on your period for the tears that are now brimming your eyes, but jungkook is your biggest weakness of all and that is an explanation enough.

“why are you crying?” he panics. “what did i say?”

“it’s your fault.”

you break down into loud sobs, incapable of even keeping your eyes open. you never understood why we close our eyes when we cry, but right now, you know that you can’t bear to witness his reaction.

“you’re so sweet.”

the towel that was wiping the water from your mouth is now drying the tears from your stained cheeks.

“am i making you sad?”

you furiously shake your head. how could he say such a thing? he is the greatest joy of your life.

“no?”

“no!”

“okay, come here then.”

he wraps his arms around your trembling figure, caging you in the solace of his entire existence. a sense of calmness washes over your system, especially as he runs his hand across your back in gentle strokes. this isn’t his goal though, it seems. you hear none of his quiet shushes beseeching you to stop breaking his heart. he hopes you let go of everything that has been weighing on you, but he has already eased all your pains by loving you.

“ugh, i probably look horrible right now.” you force a chuckle to lighten up the mood, wiping your face with the back of your free hand. “i feel gross.”

“that’s not true.” he gazes at you fondly, brushing your hair with his fingers. “it’s actually infuriating how you look so beautiful still.”

“i know. i’m nice to look at; that’s why you tolerate my attitude.” you conclude in jest.

“yeah, sometimes.” he rides on the joke.

“what…?”

“i’m joking!” he rushes to take it back with a laugh. “of course i’m joking!”

you pout. “are you really?”

“oh, come onnnn.”

he coaxes you with a kiss on the lips— a good morning kiss long overdue. you’ve been spoiled rotten with affection; he knows you need more than one. he interrupts himself several times to kiss you.

“you know i’ll love you until our hair turns white and our skin all wrinkly.”

to be brutally honest, you’re not fond of imagining that far ahead. it’s daunting. you doubt your capability to age with grace. you’re horrified by the thought of having the majority of your life behind you. nostalgia has always been more bitter than sweet. but maybe this memory could be the sweetest of all, if jungkook truly stays by your side until then. in a cottage at the countryside like he said once, or a cabin by the ocean.

you’re both so young; so arrogant when it comes to making promises that are a shot in the dark. so fucking in love.

“me too.” you half-smile, scrunching your nose— a telltale sign of your joy. “now, get out. i really need to pee.”

his face becomes drained of blood. “but you’re st-”

“i won’t lock the door this time.” you cup his cheek, looking at his eyes reassuringly. “we don’t need property damage added to the bill.”

—

“did you not hurt yourself?”

“me?”

“you broke down the door. that’s not easy to do.”

you and jungkook make the best out of a bad deal. you’re squeezed together on the bed, browsing through television channels that seem to never end.

“it was easy because you were on the other side of it.”

that is what he claims confidently, but you are not fully convinced.

“wow, why do they have more channels than we do at home?”

“you didn’t answer my question.” you pout. “did you hurt yourself?”

“i didn’t hurt myself. i’m totally okay. i promise.”

he maintains eye-contact as he speaks. given the assurance, your tight chest unrestricts. jungkook is not a good liar. it’s a trait that causes him inconvenience every now and then, but it helps you to sleep soundly at night.

“should we just watch funny animal videos on youtube?”

“i guess that’s fine.”

it doesn’t show but you feel excitement run in your veins aside from the iv fluids that feel peculiarly cold.

from under your cheek, his chest vibrates with a giggle. “okay, hold on.”

as he pulls up the application, you tangle your legs together beneath the thin blanket. you hear the rapid tap tap tap of the remote control navigating the keypad while he types on the search bar, but your attention is someplace else. you’ve found the crook of his neck to sneak into, lazily kissing every inch of his exposed skin. your lips eventually trail up to his jaw. he smells so nice. you’re addicted.

“baby, someone can enter any minute.”

“i’m not doing anything.” you mumble.

you smile against his lips when he gives you a kiss as sweet as honey anyway.

“i’m curious about another thing.”

“what’s that?”

“did you cry?”

he comes to a still. the answer to that question requires a little time and thought.

“almost…”

“why almost?”

“no time. i had to bring you here, of course.” he replies.

you huff a laugh, exhaling a twinge of melancholia. “don’t cry.”

“i won’t. i’m happy now because you’re awake and fighting with me.”

“ow-”

your cry of pain is silenced when he squeezes you in an embrace that makes it nearly impossible to breathe.

“red panda!”

a squeal assaults both of your hearing as soon as your eyes land on the wide screen infront of the bed.

“i want one so fucking bad.”

the enunciated curse makes your boyfriend crack up in amusement. “that much?!”

—

jungkook opens his eyes to a nurse lightly nudging him awake.

“i’m sorry, i had to wake you up. i need to check vitals and draw blood.”

“shit, i’m sorry.” he panics.

his brain is foggy from the nap, but he still carefully sits up on the bed, wary of the iv line connected to your hand.

“i… was tired and i fell asleep.”

“it’s no problem; don’t worry.”

she smiles at him, but he doesn’t see it.

“you look adorable sleeping.”

“ah, really?” he awkwardly responds, absentminded. “it’s embarrassing.”

he stands on your side, about to disturb your peaceful rest much as it makes his heart ache with guilt, but you’re already stirring due to the absence of his warmth.

your heavy eyelids blink at the nurse in curiosity. “oh… do you need my blood?”

“yes, but i’ll take your blood pressure and temperature first.”

“okay,” you mumble, offering your arm. “it might be higher now because i’m scared.”

she chuckles at your joke. jungkook tries to share an endeared look with her and non-verbally communicate adorable, right?

“i promise i’ll be quick. although we definitely want it to be higher than earlier’s.”

you wince as the cuff around your upper arm goes as tight as it could, and you sigh at the same time that it begins to deflate.

“good, good, good,” she chants with a mumble. “it’s back in the normal range again…”

she brings out a digital thermometer from her pocket.

“you know where this goes.”

she hands it over to you, and you awkwardly place it in your armpit, holding it in place. it’s quiet as you wait for the device to make the beeping sound, except for her pen creating friction with your chart as she takes down notes.

“how’s your stitches? do you feel any discomfort?”

“it’s fine. thank you.”

not long after, you hear the beep. you return the thermometer to her, but not before taking a peak at the numbers displayed on the tiny screen. 36.8°C. you think you’ll live.

“i’ll draw your blood now.”

the nurse’s voice is sweet and reassuring, but it doesn’t quite ease the nervousness evident on your expression. your pupils shake as you watch her disinfect the area, and then comes out the long needle.

another one, jungkook laments inside.

“____, i’m right here.”

you crane your head, whimpering out his name. “jungkook,”

“it will be just a pinch. i’m inserting the needle now, alright?”

you take a sharp inhale.

if only he could switch positions with you, he would do it in a heartbeat. unfortunately, all he can do is caress your hair and whisper that it will be over soon.

“it hurts.” your damp eyelashes flutter, face twisting in discomfort. “i don’t like it.”

really, just a pinch? obviously a lie.

“hey, baby. look at the tv.”

the autoplay was left turned on after you fell asleep together. inside the screen is a puppy rolling around a snow-covered lawn. the wagging of its tail, the wide smile, and the pupils as big as boba balls: they all scream the happiness of an innocent.

“it’s so cute… i miss bam already. can we go to a dog park again?”

“of course!”

that promise sparks your smile. you turn to your side, and jungkook also catches a glimpse of the cotton taped to where you were poked.

“all done. you can go back to resting.”

“thank you. will you need to take blood again?” you inquire at the nurse.

“hm, probably. it depends on the doctor based on the results we get from this one.”

“can’t you just do it while i’m asleep? or is that not allowed?”

“baby…” jungkook snorts, hiding his face behind the palm of his hands.

the nurse laughs at your desperate suggestion. “that is honestly not a rare request, but the thing is… you might wake up in the middle of it and injure yourself. we can’t do that.”

“that won’t be a problem!” you passionately argue your case. “i’m a deep sleeper. seriously!”

“ah, thank you so much for your hard work!”jungkook intervenes, bowing to the nurse out of respect and gratitude. “i’m sure you’re busy. i will handle this!”

“oh yes, yes- thank you. please don’t forget the medicine for after dinner.”

“i won’t!”

“if you need anything, you know where to find me again.”

“yes,” he nods, chuckling. “thank you.”

“then i should leave…? but you’ll see me again later! bye!”

the door shuts, and his attention lands on your unimpressed form: a blank stare and arms folded infront of your chest.

uh-oh.

“did she seriously wink while saying that?”

“what?” he freezes, genuinely clueless. “i don’t know. i didn’t see anything. i was looking at you.”

“i’m right here- i’m the patient. why would you need anything from her? huh? why is she so excited to see you again?” you ramble angrily.

“right?!”

he climbs on the bed, reclaiming his spot next to you.

“that was weird.”

“what if she made it hurt on purpose? that…” you frown, glancing at your arm. “that didn’t really feel like a pinch to me.”

“ey, calm down. she wouldn’t.” he makes a doubtful face, laughing off the accusation. “…i don’t think so?”

you blink, exhaling in disbelief. “are you taking her side now?”

“of course not! baby, i’m just saying… a professional won’t do that.”

“why not? she’s still human. humans do stupid things when they like someone. she obviously likes you.”

“and so what?”

he grins with a spark of mischief, leaving an inch of a distance between your lips.

“i’m obviously yours.”

but you turn your cheek and your eyes fall on your lap, a pout highlighting your downcast mood.

“it’s so annoying.”

the regret sinks in after. he should’ve stuck to the golden rule: agree with everything that you say. there’s no point in having an argument no one will win. does it matter who’s right and wrong if each other’s sadness is contagious in addition to their own? your gut has almost always been right, and he’s old enough to be conscious of not allowing a stranger to put a dent on your relationship.

“are you serious? are you uncomfortable?” he tilts his head to try and get a better look at your face. “should i request for a different nurse?”

it’s quiet for a beat and he feels inclined to fill the silence with whatever enters his mind.

“i love you.”

almost immediately, your features soften and he knows your heart is also melting. the two of you bite the inside of your cheeks to hide a smile.

“no, there’s no need for that.”

but he still can’t help but to be worried. your peace of mind is his top priority. he doesn’t want you to be more stressed out, especially by things that he has the power to solve.

“are you sure?”

“she pissed me off. i need to piss her off too.”

of course, his ever stubborn and competitive lover. he sits up properly, amused and curious.

“and how will you do that?”

“i don’t know,” you nonchalantly shrug. “i’ll come up with something.”

—

“come up with what?”

to your surprise, a voice you haven’t heard in weeks echoes from the door.

“mom…?”

you’re stunned after only hearing yourself react to jungkook’s mother’s unexpected entrance. your head whips to his direction; your eyes wordlessly interrogating him.

“i need to go to work so i called her to watch over you.” he explains.

“why would you do that?” you argue with him as quietly as possible, lips barely moving as you try to hide your face from your mother-in-law. again, not one of your finest moments. “you didn’t have to. i can take care of myself.”

“but you don’t have to because you have us.”

jungkook marks the conversation finished with a kiss pressed to your temple, leaving you dumbfounded. he jumps off the bed and for a split second, you make eye-contact with his mother before he towered over her for a quick hug.

her kind smile is embroidered in your memory; a memory that wraps your heart in a type of warmth only a mother can provide.

“mom! i’m sorry. i really, really, really need to leave now. but! i’ll try to come back early so you can go home early too.”

“aigoo, stop stressing yourself out.”

jungkook receives a slap on the back, somehow more loving can scolding.

“i can stay the night so do what you need to do. you don’t have to worry.”

“it’s not only because i’m worried!”

she sassily puts a hand over her waist. it takes everything in you not to laugh out loud.

“then what else?”

“mom! what else?” he cheekily smiles. “of course i’ll miss ____ too much.”

did your boyfriend just…? to his mother? your jaw becomes slack from the shame.

“i missed ____ too!” she contests. “go to work and give us our alone time.”

you shyly smile when she transfers her attention from her son to you.

“hello, my baby. are you hungry?”

—

“does my son feed you well?”

“he does! but it’s funny- other mothers ask the opposite. are you feeding my son well? do you make sure he’s comfortable?”

you think out loud, transfixed on how she peels oranges with ease. your hands would always be stained by the juices, (and eyes red and teary from accidental splashes) (it’s too embarrassing to even think about) but hers are still magically clean.

“is that so?”

you graciously accept the slice she feeds you. she laughs when your face lights up like a christmas tree one more time. it’s way sweeter than you anticipated. you can’t get over how delicious it is.

“mhmm!”

perhaps you relied too much on dramas when it came to your expectations of what a relationship with your in-laws would look like. you imagined yourself running around like a dog trying to prove yourself worthy of their son, yet for some reason, it looks like they adore you for simply existing. it makes you feel extremely grateful, but you don’t understand.

“mom, i have a question… i know it’s probably too late to ask this now, but…”

“what could that be?”

“are you really not against me and jungkook living together?” you swallow your fear of the possibility of an unpleasant truth. “are you not… worried… that i’m receiving too much from him?”

because you would understand the apprehension. as a parent, one’s main concern would be their child. to outside eyes, it’s easy to come to the conclusion that jungkook is being taken advantage of and he’d be better off dating someone with the same status. sometimes you wish you were that someone too.

she utters your name sadly.

“he receives happiness and love from you. those are the most valuable things you could give to a person.”

she caresses your hair like she wants to erase the anxiety poisoning your mind.

“my dear, how come you’re worried about that until now? haven’t we told you? you’re part of the family. forget about my sister! i don’t welcome her negativity in our house!”

“living together is different. it’s a big deal. it normally happens in a relationship after…” the following words feel foreign in your mouth; they come out quieter than the rest of your sentence. “getting married.”

“then tell me. why did you agree to live with him?”

because you’re selfish. because you want more time that you can have him all to yourself. because you want to be accessible— the first person he runs to when he’s seeking comfort and stability. because you want goodnight and good morning kisses. because you were afraid of the risks but you’ve grown addicted to the thrill of love.

“he said… no matter how hard i push him away, he will stay within my reach.”

you hear your own shaky breathing. that moment— it’s still burned into your memory. you’re still holding on to it. it’s a promise he is yet to break and you pray that he never, ever does.

“i don’t want to push him away. i want to be within his reach too.”

you’re two people loving each other with everything within your means. after the endless pains and the deafening noise, you like to think that’s what makes this relationship worth fighting for.

“does my opinion still matter knowing that? will you let me stop you?”

“no, i won’t. i’d make you change your mind.”

if you had a machine connected to you, she would see how your heart rate has gone off the charts. but you’re known to say whatever’s on your mind and that, much to your dismay, isn’t switched off despite sitting infront of the woman who birthed and raised the love of your life.

you sniffle, pursing your lips nervously. “but i feel like there might be a right answer to that one.”

what you didn’t expect was her to laugh until her belly hurts; placing a hand over her mouth in an effort to calm herself down and keep grace.

“mom! stop, i’m so embarrassed!”

“no, ____, don’t get me wrong!”

she is teary-eyed as she gathers herself together.

“the more time i spend with you, the more i realize why jungkook loves you so much. i’ve seen him show incredible commitment twice. do you know that? first, when he went to seoul to become a singer. second, when he told us he got an apartment because he wants to be with you… of course, as his mother, i’ll admit that he’s young when he made those decisions, but he always proves to me that he’s smart and responsible.”

the urge to cry returns and strengthens as she speaks. you feel your eyelashes become damp with unshed tears. you don’t know how to act. you fiddle with your fingers. you stare at the strings and peels of the oranges you can still taste.

“i believe we both know jungkook’s personality well. he wouldn’t have let me stop him either. i’m happy to know that you’ll fight for him too.”

“thank you…”

“tsk, tsk, tsk- what is there to cry about? jungkook will get angry at me if he discovers that i made you cry.”

she wipes away your tears; however, the unmistakable scent of oranges that has clung to her hands and the affection in her tone bring forth a waterfall.

“seeing this makes me sadder.” she laments, referring to the stitches on your face.

“me too,” you babble in the midst of quiet sobs. “it makes me sad. it’s so ugly.”

—

you can’t remember the last time you felt this alone. perhaps it’s the effect of staying in an unfamiliar building of complete strangers. without your mobile phone, may you add. you managed to persuade jungkook’s mother to leave an hour ago because you didn’t want her to sleep on the uncomfortable couch.

the lights are turned off except for the lamp beside your bed, and with the television muted, you could hear a hairpin drop.

you’re alone and you can do whatever you want.

you dragged the visitor’s chair infront of the window to admire the garden like it’s a painting in motion. you watched people converse, stroll, and drink coffee. you watched them run for shelter when the clouds became too heavy and the sky began to fall. oh, so that’s why you couldn’t see the stars.

at this moment, there’s nothing left to amuse yourself with but the trembling of the leaves and the raindrops forming temporary rings when they fall in the water fountain.

your senses crave for more. you reach over and crack open the window, just enough to allow the sound of the rain and the scent of it permeating the earth to enter your room.

“this is kind of peaceful.” you whisper, amazed by the new lightness carried by your heart.

you close your eyes and you breathe in the petrichor deeply. you want nature in your lungs as a reminder that you’re alive. you welcome the cold wind kissing your face. you can feel your hair touching your neck. you always do, but for once, you’re choosing to acknowledge it. your thumb slowly brushes across the palm of your hand, perceiving the texture of your skin, the softness, and the lines. and your feet, they’re in the clouds, the fluffy slippers jungkook’s mother bought outside because she knows they’re your favorite to wear.

you’ve loved and despised this body for a million different reasons. your mind and heart have accepted defeat countless times, but your body wakes up to every brand new day without fail. your body implores you to live. did it finally give up on you today?

“baby!”

you look behind to search for the source of the sound.

you get your answer from the kiss planted on your lips.

you only saw his face for a split second, but even if you had your eyes closed, you’d know it has to be jungkook kissing you.

you can smell him. you’ve memorized the way the shape of his lips fits with yours.

oh, the sounds of his kisses too. you like to call them the butterfly call because they make butterflies appear in your stomach.

you could trace the scar on his cheek with your finger if you want to.

god, what a privilege it is to experience life in this vessel.

a knock on the door forces you to part too early. the same nurse from earlier enters and you internally scream all the curse words in your dictionary. jungkook acknowledges her with a bow and a quick ‘hello’ before squatting down infront of you.

“i committed another crime for you today.”

“huh?”

your wide, confused eyes take a glimpse at the nurse who is doing something with the controls of your iv line.

hahaha… she knows he’s not serious, right?

“what did you do?”

his smile is so big that his eyes have turned into little crescent moons. you’d make a guess but there is an infinite amount of things jungkook could possibly be this excited about.

…apparently, one of them would be strawberry cake.

you gape at the transparent box he was hiding behind his back all along.

“did you steal somebody’s birthday cake?!”

“it’s a producer’s birthday and he received lots of cakes, so he told me i can take one home.”

“how is it stealing if he allowed you to take it?”

he tosses his backpack on the couch as he sets down the box on the table. he rummages through the bag his mother left behind, successfully bringing out a spoon. meanwhile, you get your blood pressure taken again.

as he opens the box, he sends a smirk your way.

“no. i hid the strawberry cake because there’s so many who wanted to eat it.”

“are you crazy?!”

the nurse clicks her tongue. “don’t talk and stay still, please.”

“oh,” your hand flies to your mouth on instinct. “i’m sorry.”

“i’m sorry.” jungkook also apologizes.

you and your boyfriend secretly share a look, exchanging a smile that is stifled laughter inside. your lips remain zipped as the nurse restarts the process of taking your blood pressure. on the other hand, jungkook eats a spoonful of cake, teasingly wiggling his eyebrows at you. you roll your eyes and he tries harder to laugh without a sound.

seconds later, he grumbles about the room being too warm. he wipes the beads of sweat on his forehead using the back of his hand, and he does the worst thing he could possibly do at this moment. he reaches for his back, pulling his sweater over his head. naturally, his inner shirt rides up and allows wandering eyes a peak at his glorious toned abdomen.

passed out in the shower. busted your eyebrow open. front-row seat for a woman flirting and ogling at your boyfriend.

how fucking great.

“hello? i think it’s done.” you snap.

“a-ah, yes.”

you hear her swallow as she removes the cuff from your arm. she may be wearing a mask but she’s hot and red all the way to her ears. you’ve only read about it in books. you didn’t even believe this could happen in real life until now.

“i will check your temperature too.”

“go on.”

you repeat the same process from hours earlier, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you wait for the beep.

“yah, why is the window open? you’ll catch a cold.”

jungkook, yet again, steals the attention of every person in the room when he rises to his feet. his shadow casts over you as he closes the window.

“i wanted to smell the rain.”

“is the room getting too stuffy for you?”

you shrug. “i just wanted to smell the rain.”

you feel the nurse’s stare. you offer her a smile and her nameplate briefly gets caught by your vision. kang ji-woo.

“ji-woo; that’s a pretty name.” you pay her a sincere compliment. “it’s healing, don’t you think?”

“yes? uh-uhm, y-yes…” she replies, unsure and confused by the sudden small talk. “actually, it’s been linked to a reduction in stress and anxiety levels.”

“thank you! babe, did you hear that?”

“uhuh, think about my stress and anxiety levels.” he leans against the window with his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at you.

so now he’s flexing his arm muscles. cool, cool, cool. you know he’s not doing it on purpose and his entire existence is just naturally hot and it’s infuriating.

“i’ve been worried sick about you all day.”

his statement makes you frown for a new reason. at the same moment, the thermometer beeps.

“could you please tell him that i’m fine?”

“37.3, uhhh- that’s slightly above normal. how do you feel? does your head hurt? are you cold?”

“i feel fine though?”

“okay. please take a lot of rest and stay warm…” her gaze lingers at jungkook who is blocking the window. “keep the window closed. hopefully it won’t be higher when i check again later.”

seriously?! you could cry. you want to go home where it’s comfortable. where it’s only you and jungkook and bam.

but you bet somebody would be happy if you had to stay longer.

“i’ll look after ____.” your boyfriend sighs, pulling out a jacket from his backpack.

“you shouldn’t have kissed me. what if you get sick?”

your blatantness causes the nurse to pause in updating your chart. she awkwardly clears her throat. “yeah… that… that isn’t currently advisable.”

“i’m sorry. i’ll control myself.”

you earn a glare from jungkook, then he fakes a smile which you gladly return.

“before you go, may i request for a new blanket? sorry, i spilled something earlier.”

“sure thing! i’ll come back with that right away.”

—

“she seemed happy to leave.” jungkook remarks. “i can’t tell if you were actually being nice or being passive aggressive.”

you smile innocently, taking a bite off the strawberry you stole from the top of the cake. “i’m a fucking angel.”

damn it, why is he suddenly turned on?

were you serious about the no kiss rule?

“would you rather i be the type to pull their hair?”

he shakes his head with a laugh. “but you did slap someone once.”

“you want to see me that furious again?”

“never in my wildest dreams.”

he kisses the top of your head, producing an exaggerated ‘mmmwah!’ sound that makes you giggle happily.

“here, have some more cake.”

he offers you a spoonful of cake.

no, it’s bigger.

as a matter of fact, the piece could probably pass off as a cupcake.

you gawk at it as if you’re figuring out the logistics of putting it in your mouth. his heart does a flip when you tilt your head and do your best to take in the whole thing. however, in the middle of it, you decide that you can’t, and you end up biting it off a little more than halfway.

oh my god, he loves you. he loves you. you’re so fucking cute.

your cheeks are full as you struggle to chew. you cover your mouth with your hand but they don’t touch. you’re so elegant in your ways and sometimes he wonders how you’re still attracted to him after he acts stupid.

also, plain white nails? that’s new. you always want colors.

“your nails look pretty.”

he is so focused on you that he fails to take notice of another presence occupying the room.

“your mom did them for me.”

“i figured. she wants to do mother-daughter things with you.”

the short break of silence speaks volumes. you look at him, blinking with eyes hinting at a type of joy you’re lost on how to express.

“did you choose white?”

“no. we were watching a drama and it was the couple’s wedding.”

oh, that makes total sense.

“let me guess,” he trails off with a half-embarrassed, half-entertained smile. “she asked when we will get married?”

“why would she ask me that? how would i know?” you scoff.

his heart starts at a thousand miles per hour. fuck, are you hinting at him? are you messing with his feelings again? with you, he always needs to remind himself to be rational.

“i need more time to prove to you that i’m husband material.”

“what? stop it. i don’t care. i don’t need a ring.”

your unpredictableness pushes him to the edge of his seat.

“don’t pressure yourself. you already treat me way better than most husbands do their wives.”

the pride painted on your face is unmistakable. he feels his heart swelling in his chest. has he been doing a better job than he originally thought? after what happened today, he was terrified that he hasn’t been paying enough attention to you.

“i’m so happy with what we have.”

you offer him a delicate smile before eating the rest of the cake that was left on the spoon. he swears there’s a glowing halo above your head.

could your temperature have magically dropped in the past five minutes? would you kill him if he kissed you right now?

“is there anything else i could assist you with?”

and then he is rudely snapped out of his hopeless adoration and daydreaming.

“that’s all! thank you for your hard work!” you chirp.

he turns to the nurse with a lovesick grin.

“please come to our wedding.”

the unforeseen wedding invitation earns him a slap on the chest. he clutches the affected area, wincing in pain.

he hears you mutter. “don’t invite strangers to our wedding.”

the irritated glare he predicted to face isn’t there. rather, you’re wearing the flustered smile he only sees when he knows that he did something to make you fall for him all over again.

before ji-woo left, she tried to subtly reject the invitation by jokingly saying that she’d die to go, but most probably, she’d have to work that day. you know… being an overworked hospital employee and all. you caught her glancing at you with bitterness failed to be guised as indifference. you get it. you’d hate it if another person was in your place. frankly speaking, you could be miles pettier.

your boyfriend wipes the corner of your lips, thoughtless as he licks off the cake frosting from his thumb.

damn it, you wish she was also here for that.

“you haven’t stopped smiling.”

“you love me and you never let me forget that.”

you give an answer despite the lack of a question mark.

you just made his world stop spinning on its axis and you’re not even aware.

jungkook knows the heavenly feeling of knowing that he is loved, but he has never deeply considered the joy and relief when the person he loves believes that he loves them.

“i’m so lucky. i love you.”

you push yourself up to plant a kiss on his forehead. it’s a rarity he treasures and keeps.

“i love you too.”

he cries infront of you.

almost.

he excuses himself to the bathroom and cries in there a little.

you’re so easy to love— that’s why it makes him want to do difficult things for you. like commit more crimes?

[5ummit]

[marvyu]

MIDNIGHT INK

pairings. jungkook x female reader genre(s). smut,fluff

summary. a faded tattoo marks your heartbreak. desperate for a fresh start, you visit Jungkook, a trusted tattoo artist and secret confidant you secretly love.

warnings. explicit language, sexual themes, past relationships, heartbreak, and emotional healing, swearing, unprotected sex, lots of kissing, oral sex, missionary position, and implied consensual rough sex.

sitting on your bed, you watched your reflection in the mirror, your fingers tracing the outline of the faded tattoo on your lower back. once a symbol of love, it had become a haunting reminder of heartbreak. you needed to rid yourself of it, something to signify a fresh start.

finally, you picked up your phone from the desk and called the one person you trusted implicitly.

"hello?"

"hey, before you leave, can i get a quick one done on my lower back?" you asked hesitantly. "trying to get a cover-up."

"yeah, sure, be here by eleven-thirty, okay?"

"alright, cool, thanks." you stayed silent for a minute, hoping he'd say more, but the call ended abruptly.

glancing at the clock, your eyes widened. it was 11:20. with a groan, you grabbed your keys and rushed out. the tattoo shop was only five minutes from your home, but october's chill and early darkness made the journey feel longer.

despite the recent breakup with your boyfriend, you always found yourself returning to him—jungkook. he was the man you confided in, sharing all your problems, including tales of your toxic relationship. though he listened, sometimes distant, you sensed he disliked hearing about your ex. yet, he was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on; truth be told, he was the reason you frequented the tattoo shop.

upon arrival, the sign's lights flickered at the entrance. taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open. jungkook looked up from his station, his sleeves rolled up, revealing his tattoo-covered arms. his dark, intense gaze swept over you, making your heart flutter.

"hey," he greeted, a slow smile spreading. "ready?"

you nodded, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. "yeah, thanks for staying late."

"no problem," he replied, his voice low and soothing. he gestured to the tattoo chair. "take a seat. let's see what we're working with."

as you settled into the chair, a mix of nerves and excitement coursed through you. jungkook moved with practised ease, gathering his tools and preparing the area.

"alright, let's take a look," he said calmly, lifting the back of your hoodie. his fingers brushed against your skin, lingering longer than necessary, sending a shiver down your spine.

jungkook's gaze flickered to yours, a hint of desire in his eyes before he focused back on your skin. "15th of… december… 2023," he murmured, staring at your tattoo.

embarrassed, you leaned your head against the seat. "yeah, that's when we started dating."

he hummed in response, studying the faded tattoo. "this will be a great cover-up. do you have a design in mind, or want me to freestyle something?"

"i trust you," you whispered. "just something that represents a new beginning."

jungkook nodded, his expression serious and thoughtful. "got it. i'll sketch something out quickly."

you watched as he worked, his hands moving swiftly and confidently. the room was filled with the soft hum of the neon sign outside and the quiet scratch of his pencil on paper. after a few minutes, he held up the sketch for you to see.

"how about this?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for approval.

the design was beautiful—delicate yet bold, perfectly capturing what you wanted. "it's perfect," you grinned.

"glad you like it. let's get started," he smiled.

he carefully transferred the design onto your skin, his touch sending another shiver through you. "ready?" he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent heat pooling in your stomach.

you nodded, unable to find your voice. the first touch of the needle was sharp but bearable. the pain quickly faded into the background, overshadowed by the sensation of jungkook's hands on your skin. each touch, each brush of his fingers, felt amplified in the intimate quiet of the shop.

jungkook worked with steady precision, his eyes never leaving your skin. "you're doing great," he murmured, his breath warm against your back. "just a little longer."

you tried to focus on the rhythm of his work, but your mind kept drifting to the closeness of his body and his hands' warmth. the tension between you was palpable, each minute passing in a haze of anticipation and desire. his fingers occasionally brushed against your skin in a way that felt more intentional than accidental, sending waves of heat coursing through you.

as the tattoo session continued, you found yourself mesmerized by the sensation of his touch. the combination of the late hour, the dim lighting, and the intimate nature of the session made every moment feel charged with electricity. you could feel the heat of his body close to yours, the soft brush of his breath on your skin.

"how does it feel?" he asked softly, his voice a soothing balm with a dark, underlying current.

"it's… it's good," you managed to reply, your voice shaking slightly. "thank you, jungkook."

he smiled, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "almost done. just hang in there."

the final strokes of the tattoo machine were almost a relief, though you couldn't deny the pang of disappointment at the thought of his touch ending. when he finally finished, jungkook leaned back to admire his work, his expression of satisfaction mixed with something deeper.

"all done," he said softly. "take a look."

you stood up and walked to the mirror, turning to see the new tattoo on your lower back. it was beautiful, a perfect cover-up that transformed an old regret into something new and meaningful.

"wow," you said, your voice filled with genuine awe. "i love it."

he stepped closer, his gaze intense and dark with unspoken desire. "i'm glad you like it," he said.

for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. it was just the two of you, standing in the quiet, dimly lit shop, the air thick with unspoken feelings and charged with undeniable tension.

"thank you," you whispered, your eyes locking with his.

jungkook's hand brushed against your cheek, and your heart skipped a beat. his touch was gentle yet firm, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your breath catch. "you're welcome," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "anytime."

as you stared into each other's eyes, the air between you seemed to crackle with electricity, the line between professional and personal blurring beyond recognition. the tension was almost unbearable, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, craving more.

jungkook's fingers trailed down your cheek to your neck, his touch igniting a fire within you. "you know," he said softly, his lips just inches from yours, "i've always been here for you. and i always will be."

his hand lingered on your neck, his thumb gently brushing your jawline as he stared into your eyes. the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine, and the air between you crackled with unspoken desire. you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing the growing tension in the room.

"you have no idea how long i've wanted this," he whispered, his voice husky and filled with longing.

your breath hitched, and you leaned in closer without thinking, your lips just a breath away from his. the anticipation was almost unbearable, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, drawing you in.

unable to resist any longer, you closed the distance, pressing your lips to his in a tentative kiss. jungkook responded immediately, his lips soft yet insistent against yours. the kiss deepened slowly, fueled by the weeks of suppressed desire and the intimate setting of the tattoo shop. his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss further. the sensation was electric, sending waves of heat coursing through your body.

your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. the sensation of his heartbeat under your palm matched the frantic pace of your own. every touch, every movement was charged, making your skin tingle with anticipation.

jungkook broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he trailed kisses down your neck. "god, i've wanted this for so long," he murmured against your skin, his hands roaming over your back, tracing the newly inked tattoo.

you let out a soft moan, arching into his touch. "me too," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "i've wanted you for so long."

he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and filled with desire as he looked at you. "then let's not waste any more time," he said, his voice a low growl.

with a swift movement, he lifted you onto the tattoo chair, positioning himself between your legs. the cool leather against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat building between you. jungkook's hands slid under your hoodie, pushing it up to reveal more of your skin. he kissed a trail down your collarbone, his fingers deftly undoing the clasp of your bra.

your breath hitched as he pulled the bra away, his lips capturing one of your nipples in a hot, wet kiss. you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavished attention on your breasts, his hands kneading the soft flesh.

"jungkook," you moaned, the sound of his name a desperate plea on your lips.

he responded by kissing his way back up to your mouth, his tongue parting your lips as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. the kiss was deep and fervent, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips when they parted. his hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and dip, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

you could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and the sensation only heightened your own desire. with a trembling hand, you reached down, palming him through his jeans. he let out a low groan, the sound vibrating through you and making you even wetter.

"need you," you gasped against his lips, your voice breathless with need.

jungkook pulled back just enough to tug off his shirt, revealing the expanse of tattoos that decorated his chest and arms. you couldn't help but run your hands over his skin, tracing the lines of ink with your fingers.

he made quick work of your clothes, stripping you bare before him. the cool air against your heated skin made you shiver, but the look in jungkook's eyes sent a new wave of warmth through you. he kissed you again, his hands exploring your body with a fervent intensity.

his fingers found their way between your legs, sliding through your wetness with practiced ease. you gasped, bucking into his hand as he teased your entrance.

"you're so wet for me," he murmured against your ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. "i want to taste you."

before you could respond, he knelt between your thighs, his tongue darting out to taste you. the sensation was overwhelming, and you cried out, your hands gripping the edges of the tattoo chair as he licked and sucked at your most sensitive spots.

jungkook's tongue moved with expert precision, driving you closer and closer to the edge. just as you felt the first tremors of your orgasm, he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal.

"i want you to come with me inside you," he said, his voice rough with desire.

you nodded, too breathless to speak, and he quickly shed the rest of his clothes. the sight of him, fully naked and aroused, made your mouth water. he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locking with yours as he slowly pushed inside.

the sensation of him filling you was indescribable, a perfect mix of pleasure and pressure. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as he began to move. each thrust was deliberate and powerful, driving you closer to the edge with each stroke.

jungkook's hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he moved faster, his breath hot against your neck. "you're mine," he growled, his voice filled with possessive desire.

"yes," you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. "i'm yours."

the words seemed to spur him on, and he increased his pace, driving into you with an almost desperate intensity. your orgasm built rapidly, a tight coil of pleasure that finally snapped, sending you over the edge with a cry of his name.

jungkook followed you over the edge, his own release shuddering through him as he buried himself deep inside you. he collapsed against you, both of you breathing heavily as the aftershocks of your orgasms coursed through you.

for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. it was just the two of you, tangled together in the quiet, dimly lit shop, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

"that was…" you began, but trailed off, unable to find the words.

"amazing," jungkook finished for you, his lips curling into a satisfied smile.

you nodded, a matching smile spreading across your face. "yeah. amazing."

jungkook pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. "i told you," he murmured, his voice soft and tender. "i'll always be here for you."

you nestled closer to him, savouring the warmth of his body against yours. "and i'll always be here for you," you whispered back, feeling a profound sense of connection and contentment.

jungkook pulled back slightly, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "we should get cleaned up," he said, but made no move to let you go. instead, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and affectionate.

you smiled, leaning into his touch. "yeah, but maybe we can stay like this for just a little longer," you suggested, not ready to break the intimate cocoon that had enveloped you both.

he chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. "i like the sound of that."

the two of you lay there for a while, wrapped up in each other's arms, the quiet of the tattoo shop providing a serene backdrop to your tender moment. the reality of the outside world seemed distant and unimportant compared to the warmth and closeness you shared.

eventually, jungkook sighed and pulled away, albeit reluctantly. "as much as i'd love to stay here with you forever, we should clean up and get you home."

you nodded, understanding the practicality of his words even though you wished the moment could last longer. "okay."

jungkook helped you off the tattoo chair, both of you moving slowly, savoring the lingering touches and stolen kisses as you gathered your clothes. he was gentle as he helped you dress, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made you want to pull him back into your embrace.

once you were both dressed, jungkook guided you to the small bathroom at the back of the shop. he wet a cloth and began to gently clean the areas of your body that still tingled from his touch. the intimacy of the moment, even in such a simple act, made your heart swell with affection.

"thank you," you said softly, your voice filled with sincerity. "for everything."

he smiled, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made you feel cherished. "anytime, y/n."

with a final, lingering kiss, jungkook finished cleaning up and walked you to the door. the cool night air was a stark contrast to the warmth you felt inside, but you didn't mind. you knew that the bond you had forged tonight was something special, something that would stay with you long after you left the shop.

as you stepped outside, jungkook held your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "call me when you get home, okay? i want to make sure you're safe."

you nodded, squeezing his hand in return. "i will."

he watched as you walked away, his figure a comforting presence behind you. as you made your way home, you felt a sense of peace and fulfilment that you hadn't felt in a long time. the night had been more than just a tattoo session—it had been a new beginning, a step towards a future filled with promise and love.

later that night, as you settled into bed, your mind was filled with thoughts of jungkook, completely forgetting he was waiting for your call.

the intimacy you shared, the way he looked at you, the feeling of his hands on your skin—it all replayed in your mind like a beautiful dream. just as you were about to drift off to sleep, your phone rang, breaking the silence of the room. the screen displayed jungkook's name, and your heart skipped a beat.

you answered the call, trying to keep your voice steady. "hey,"

"hey," he replied, his voice warm and soothing. "i just wanted to make sure you got home safely."

"i did," you said, feeling a rush of warmth at his concern. "thank you for checking."

there was a brief silence, filled with the unspoken feelings hanging between you. finally, jungkook broke the silence. "i can't stop thinking about tonight, about you, y/n."

"me too," you admitted, your voice soft. "thanks for the special treatment."

"it was special," jungkook agreed. "i've wanted to tell you how i feel for so long, but i didn't know if you felt the same way."

"i do," you whispered, your heart pounding. "i feel the same way, jungkook."

he let out a relieved sigh, and you could hear the smile in his voice. "i'm glad to hear that. how about we make this official? can i take you out to dinner tomorrow night?"

your face broke into a wide smile, your excitement bubbling over. "i'd love that."

"great," jungkook said, his voice filled with warmth. "i'll pick you up at seven. sweet dreams, y/n."

"sweet dreams, jungkook," you replied, ending the call with a smile.

the next day was a blur of anticipation and excitement. as the evening approached, you found yourself carefully selecting an outfit, wanting everything to be perfect. when the clock struck seven, a knock on your door made your heart race.

jungkook stood on the other side, looking effortlessly handsome. he greeted you with a bouquet and a shy, endearing smile. "you look beautiful," he said, his eyes filled with admiration.

"thank you," you replied, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth. "you look great too."

the dinner was perfect. the two of you shared stories, laughter, and tender glances across the table. every moment felt charged with electricity, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing second. after dinner, jungkook took you for a walk in a nearby park. the night was clear, the stars twinkling above as you strolled hand in hand.

as you reached a quiet spot, jungkook turned to face you, his expression serious yet tender. "y/n, i meant what i said last night. i'll always be here for you. i want to be with you if you'll have me."

your heart swelled with emotion, and you nodded, tears of happiness brimming in your eyes. "i want to be with you too, jungkook. more than anything."

he pulled you into a gentle embrace, his lips finding yours in a soft, tender kiss. the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in your perfect moment.

the weeks that followed were filled with joy and discovery. jungkook became not only your lover but your confidant and best friend. each moment spent together strengthened your bond, and your love grew stronger with each passing day.

you found yourself spending more and more time at jungkook's apartment, where he would cook for you, and you would talk for hours about everything and nothing. the walls that once seemed to contain just his life now felt like a shared space where your love blossomed.

one evening, as you lay in bed together, jungkook traced patterns on your skin, his touch sending shivers through you. "i've been thinking about something," he said, hesitating.

"what is it?" you asked, turning to face him.

"i want us to move in together," he confessed, his eyes searching yours. "i want you to be a part of my everyday life, not just the special moments. what do you think?"

your heart swelled with joy, and you couldn't stop the smile on your face. "i think i'd love that. more than anything."

moving in together felt like the most natural step in your relationship. you merged your lives seamlessly, finding comfort and joy in the little things—cooking together, late-night talks, and lazy sunday mornings.

one evening, while unpacking the last of your things, you came across an old photo album. sitting on the couch, you and jungkook flipped through the pages, laughing at childhood photos and sharing stories from your pasts. it felt intimate and suitable, a testament to how deeply you trusted each other.

jungkook pulled you close, his eyes filled with love and promise. "we've come a long way, haven't we?"

"we have," you agreed, resting your head on his shoulder. "and i wouldn't change a thing."

as the evening wore on, you found yourselves on the balcony, watching the sunset. jungkook wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. "i can't wait to see what the future holds for us," he murmured.

"me too," you replied, your heart full of love and excitement. "with you by my side, i know it will be amazing."

as you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you felt a deep sense of fulfilment and contentment. the journey began with a simple tattoo, which had transformed into a beautiful love story that would continue to unfold with each passing day.

your past no longer held any power over you; you could embrace a future filled with love, promise, and endless possibilities. together, you and jungkook would face whatever came your way, knowing that your love was strong enough to withstand anything.

as you closed your eyes and leaned into his embrace, you knew this was just the beginning of your happily ever after.

(sorry omg i love this pic sm rn 😭😭😭)

© marvyu 2k24 — please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms: i do not tolerate them at all.

[2amriize]

˚₊‧꒰ა #6 riize texts — 'i need a photo of what you doing now' ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

genre fluff, crack pairing bf!riize x reader

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori

@enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123

[niki-phoria]

⋆｡°✩ I COULDN'T BE MORE IN LOVE

small gestures of affection with itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, and kamo choso

notes: gn reader (no pronouns used), some of these don't really fit the prompt but whatever lol, cw for mentions of blood/injuries in megumi and choso's, inspired by this prompt list by @euthymiaaa not proofread !! pls forgive any mistakes, title from the 1975 - i couldn't be more in love

“yuuji,” your voice cuts through the chaos swirling throughout ITADORI YUUJI’S mind effortlessly. he freezes, swiftly turning on his heel to face you. you softly smile as you take a step closer to him, gesturing to the mess of fabric messily woven into itself. “do you need some help?”

“yeah,” yuuji nods, tugging at his tie until it falls flat against his chest once again. “some help would be nice.”

taking the fabric into your hands, you weave the ends together to form a small knot near the center of yuuji’s chest. carefully, you slide it upwards until it sits snugly at the center of yuuji’s neck. “you’ve never had to wear a suit before, have you?”

“i’m sorry,” he nervously chuckles. he unconsciously raises a hand, absentmindedly brushing a hand through the little hairs near the nape of his neck. “i’ve never had a reason to dress up before.”

you simply chuckle in response, reaching up and attempting to smooth away the wrinkles in the fabric. your fingertips trace the edges, hiding away any loose threads or imperfections from the tailoring. “it’s alright. i don’t mind.”

you reach upwards, caressing his cheek with your thumb. your fingertips brush against the edges of the small curse marks beneath his eyes, making yuuji smile brightly. “you look really nice, yuuji.”

a light flush spreads across his face, tinting his face a deep pink. he smiles softly, replying, “but not as good as you.”

“you’re awake.” 

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI softly groans, squinting up at the ceiling above as the blurriness slowly begins to clear from his vision. he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before the ringing in his ears dissipates, leaving only the quiet hum from a nearby fan to fill the silence. 

the first thing megumi notices is your eyes. if he didn’t know any better, he would have missed the eyebags that he could’ve sworn weren’t there this morning and the slight nervous shake in your hands when you reach over to pass him a bottle of water. guilt settles into the pit of his stomach before he can will it away. “what happened?”

“a curse hit you into a wall. ieiri said it was a severe concussion.” megumi nods. reaching up, he carefully brushes a hand against the bandages wrapped tightly around his forehead. he can still vaguely taste the blood that filled his mouth after the injury. “don’t worry. i took care of the curse.” 

“thank you.” he sighs, carefully pushing his body to sit upwards. “i’m sorry i worried you.”

megumi’s breath catches in his throat when you reach over, taking his hands into your own. blood rushes to his cheeks, spreading an embarrassingly obvious flush across his features. butterflies swarm throughout his stomach in waves as your fingertips trace along the fresh bruises staining his pale skin before you settle for intertwining your hands together. “i’m just glad you’re safe,” you smile, sealing your promise with a soft squeeze.

GOJO SATORU awakens to the sight of sunlight threatening to break through the closed blinds. rays of light illuminate your bedroom, casting a golden glow across your features. he groans as he rolls onto his side, stretching out his tired limbs beneath the covers. 

your quiet chuckle from beside him breaks him out of his trance. satoru blinks the sleepiness away from his eyes as he shifts, moving to face in your direction. stray strands of white hair frame his sharp features. your gaze the jagged edges of the few scars that litter his bare chest, admiring the aspects that make him human.

without the usual blindfold covering his face, your gaze rises to meet satoru’s. his eyes are the colour of the ocean. the shine like gemstones - brilliant and blue. you reach upwards, carefully carding your hand through his bangs. the strands are soft against your skin as you weave them in between your fingertips; he sighs as your nails gently massage against his scalp. “good morning, satoru.”

under the safety of your comforter, satoru allows the weight of the world to slip off of his shoulders. he smiles softly, shuffling across the sheets to entangle your bodies together. his hands skim the hem of his stolen t-shirt; his fingertips threaten to slip beneath the fabric to ghost against your bare skin. he leans in, pressing a feather-light kiss against your cheek as he wraps his arms around you. “morning.”

“i’m sorry.”

KAMO CHOSO can feel the gentle burn of ice against his fingertips as he carefully holds the ice pack against your face. hues of purple and green bloom against your cheek, staining your skin with the temporary consequences of being too headstrong in a fight. dark, worried eyes meet your own when he looks up. “for what?”

you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, anxiously chewing on the flesh until choso takes your hand into his own. he unconsciously rubs his thumb against your knuckles, tracing the scars decorating your skin - a gentle reminder to relax before your teeth cause a new wound. “being stubborn. dragging you into the fight. not waiting for backup.”

choso’s lips quirk into a slight frown. “i’m not upset at you,” he begins. you flinch slightly when he adjusts the angle of the ice pack until it presses against a fresh area of the bruise. the shake in his hands is unmistakable when he brushes his fingertips against the edge of your jaw. “it… worries me,” he mumbles. his gaze has fallen, now staring at the bandages woven tightly around your bicep. his anxiety had provided enough positive energy to prevent any serious injuries, but you still needed stitches after he dragged you into the safety of shoko’s office. “when you’re reckless. your body isn’t as easy to heal as mine is.”

“i’m sorry i worried you.” you reach up, pulling choso’s hand away from your face. “i’ll be more careful next time.” you toss the ice pack to the side; choso’s cheeks flush when you press a feather-light kiss against his knuckles. “thank you.”

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vaxmpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho @dog55teeth

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[chilling-seavey]

↳ A/N In some of my casual concepting I do in my spare time, this random blurb idea came out of it and I had to flesh it out to post because it genuinely [and embarrassingly] made me laugh out loud.

↳ Summary: Your curious two-year-old son discovers something he shouldn't.

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 2.3k

↳ Warnings: Unedited. Mentions of adult related items in not adult situations, possible secondhand embarrassment, honestly it's just a good ol' lighthearted silly blurb

“You never realize how much useless stuff you have until you’re packing.”

George chuckled at your sentiment as he leaned against the open doorway to your shared bedroom, arms crossed over his chest and his skin tight work-out shirt. He had just returned from his early afternoon gym session — skillfully scheduled right over your two-year-old son’s nap time — and had found you amongst another round of attempting to pack up your Monaco apartment for your impending move. 

With a toddler and balancing George’s chaotic race schedule, it was hard to actually find time to dedicate to packing so you took any chance you could get. It was a slow but sure process; but also meant you were going to be living out of cardboard boxes for a few weeks. How glamorous. 

“As good a time as any to bin anything useless then.” George replied, watching you putter between the dresser and the half-filled cardboard box positioned on the foot of the bed. “Only important things are coming with us.”

Your freshly awake and quite lively two-year-old was blissfully exploring your bedroom, wobbling around your legs and into every corner as he babbled away to himself. His favourite toy car was clutched in one hand (he rarely went anywhere without it) as he peered into open drawers of the dresser and explored the half closed cardboard boxes neatly lined up by the wall. 

“The only important things I need are you two.” you replied to your husband with a proud smile. 

George’s eyebrows raised as a smirk pricked his lips and he pushed off the doorway to saunter farther into the room, “Oh, really? Well, then, we might as well just live in one of these boxes since we need nothing else but each other.”

You smiled back at him as he approached you, his hands navigating to your hips like second nature. Fiddling with the random cluster of wires you had pulled out of your bottom dresser drawer, you kept his tender eye contact as you replied to him softly, “As much as that is so appealing, I feel we may have Children’s Aid called on us.”

Before George could offer any sort of rebuttal, your toddler let out a giddy squeal from across your room followed by an adorable, “Uh oh!”

You both looked over quickly to see what he had gotten into now (foolish of you both to even take your eyes off him for more than three seconds), only to find your two year old beside one of the packed cardboard boxes, bottle of lube in hand. Except the bottle had been opened by his tiny nimble fingers and he was squirting the clear substance all over his hands and arms. That was NOT something either of you wanted your son to get a hold of.

Your eyes widened in sheer shock, “Oh-”

George felt his heart drop into his stomach, instantly moving away from you with a stern call of your son’s name followed by a, “No, no, no.”

He bent down beside the toddler and quickly grabbed him by the wrist to keep him from spreading the lube everywhere, his other hand snatching the now half-empty bottle from him. George looked back at you, shock and embarrassment written all over his face.

Despite the unideal situation, you couldn’t help the amused smile that threatened to spread across your face and you lifted a hand up to your mouth to try and hide the upturn of your lips.

“Yucky!” your son giggled, clapping his hands together to make the wettest slapping sound.

“Jesus.” George muttered with a shake of his head, reaching over the kid to set the slippery bottle on the bedside table for the time being. He had a toddler now smeared in lube to deal with first and, God, he didn’t know where to start. Staring down at the smiley kid, he directed to you (or the universe), “Why does he have to find the most embarrassing stuff to play with?”

You went back to trying to untangle the clump of cords as you offered half teasingly, “Maybe we should look into drawers that lock for our new house.”

“Yeah, maybe you're right. We should start locking up everything before he goes destroying the whole place before we are even moved in,” George said, a hint of resignation in his voice.

The little boy, with one wrist still in George's firm grip, reached out his other hand towards his father’s face, announcing proudly, “Slimy.”

George leaned his head back, out of the toddler’s reach, with a strained, “Oh, no. No, no, no, don't you dare-”

With an amused giggle, the toddler took his hand back and, instead, went to bring his little fingers to his mouth to taste. 

George saw what he was about to do and his eyes widened in horror. The last thing he needed was his son putting lube in his mouth.

“No, hey, stop that!” George exclaimed, quickly grabbing your son’s other wrist with his other hand to prevent him from touching his mouth. “You can't put that in your mouth, mate. It's all kinds of wrong. It's for adults only!”

Threading the cords through your fingers, you offered unhelpfully, “Well, it is safe for consumption, technically.”

George shot you a dirty look, only half truly exasperated, shaking his head in disbelief at your comment. Your attempt to hide your laughter wasn't going unnoticed.

“Oh, yeah, because that's reassuring,” he replied sarcastically, “Safe for consumption or not, our son does not need to be putting that in his mouth. Especially not while it's all over his hands like this!”

“Little one needs a bath, I think.” you said in a gentle voice.

George nodded in agreement, his annoyance quickly replaced by a resigned sigh. He hadn’t even had a moment to wash off from his gym session himself and now he had to deal with a lubed up toddler’s majorly required bathtime. 

“Yeah, you're right. He's made quite a mess of himself, hasn't he?” George said, still holding tight to your son’s tiny wrists to prevent him from getting more lube all over the place.

“Did you want me to bathe him?” you offered, easily noting the slight frustration in his voice.

“No, that’s alright, I can handle him.” George relented and cautiously let go of the little boy’s wrists so he could pick him up under the armpits and set him on his hip. He started to walk around the cardboard boxes towards the ensuite, speaking to your son in a stern but affectionate tone, “Alright, mate, let's get you clean. You're sticky and slimy, and Daddy's not too happy about it.”

He barely stepped foot in the bathroom when the little boy smacked a slimy palm against his father’s cheek with a giggle. 

George's eyes widened in shock and disgust, grabbing his wrist again with his free hand and a firm huff of your son’s name, “Ugh, seriously? That's gross!”

You spoke before you could think, a smirk playing at your lips at the entire situation, “You've had it in worse places.”

At your comment, George shot you a disapproving look over his shoulder, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Of course, you had to bring that up at the most inopportune moment. Trying to keep his voice even as he continued into the bathroom, he replied with a flat, “Now is not the time for that kind of smartass remark, love.” 

Once they were inside the bathroom, George set the two-year-old down on the ground next to the bathtub. He turned on the water, making sure it was the right temperature before testing it with his hand, not bothering to interact with how the little boy smacked his greasy hands on the front of his shorts.

“Okay, buddy, let's get you cleaned up,” George said, still trying to sound stern despite the underlying amusement he felt from the whole situation. He started to take off the boy’s clothes, one piece at a time, while shaking his head in disbelief.

The little one squirmed, protesting with a little whine, “Nooo bath, Dada.”

George let out a sigh as your son protested against the bath, his toddler stubbornness making itself known once again. The joys of the terrible and trying twos.

“Oh, come on, mate, you need a bath. You're all sticky and slimy. You'll feel much better afterward, I promise,” he said, gently but firmly, trying to keep up a patient demeanor while he removed the last of his clothes. He folded them haphazardly and left them on the closed toilet lid beside the tub.

The toddler tried to put his fingers in his mouth again.

Once more, George caught his wrist just in time, “No, no, no, we don't do that. Keep your hands out of your mouth, you little rascal.”

Without wasting another second, George lifted the toddler up and into the bathtub and immediately submerged his hands to try and get the worst of it off. Of course, he would still need a scrub since the lube somehow got everywhere. George then grabbed a washcloth and started to lather it up with some baby-safe soap.

“You know, I never imagined I'd be bathing my two-year-old son in the middle of the day because he decided to play with lubricant,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief with a faint chuckle as he scrubbed the boy down. The irony of it all wasn't lost on him.

Unknowing what he was really talking about or meaning but still liking the soft tone of George’s voice, the little boy giggled along with him. George’s fingers raked through his son’s hair, only to find remnants of slippery lube somehow streaked through the soft strands too. 

“Yeah, it's funny now, isn't it? Just wait until you're a grown-up, and I tell this story at your wedding,” George teased in return to the clueless toddler, gently soaping up and rinsing the boy's hair. “We'll be talking all about the time you decided to turn yourself into a slimy, wriggly little mess by playing with mommy and daddy's private stuff.”

Soon, once the giggly little boy was sufficiently scrubbed and rinsed and clean, George drained the tub and wrapped him in a soft, fluffy towel.

“There we go, all clean and spiffy again.” he said, picking up the toddler and starting to dry him off with gentle pats.

Wrapped in the big fluffy white towel, the little boy looked so cute and tiny in his arms. He stared back at George with only his little face and a small tuft of damp hair poking out from the towel that nearly swallowed him, nothing but big blue eyes taking up most of his face. 

George couldn't help but melt at the sight of his son, all wrapped up in the towel, looking at him with those big, blue eyes that were his very own. It was moments like those that made all the stress and chaos and mess of parenting worthwhile. He cuddled his boy close, running his hand gently over the little one’s back over the thick fabric of the towel to keep him warm and dried.

“You're a little troublemaker, you know that?” George muttered against your son’s head before pressing a kiss to the same spot, “But you're my little troublemaker, and I love you.”

Content and warm and cozy, the little boy flopped his head onto his father’s shoulder.

George smiled and felt a warm, protective feeling fill his chest as the toddler leaned his head against his shoulder. He snuggled him closer with a soft and gentle voice, “Yeah, you're all cuddly now, huh? All that exploring and playing and bathing wore you out?”

When he carried the little one back out into your bedroom, you looked up from your packing, smiling fondly at the sweet sight of them. George, somewhat frazzled but still as handsome as ever with your son on his hip in a towel far too big for him but one that made him look ridiculously adorable. 

You greeted them softly, “There are my boys.” 

George walked over to you, his hands under the little one’s bum to hold him snuggled against his chest, his cheek resting atop his son’s head. 

“Yeah, here we are.” he said in a breathy sing-song voice, only ever used around your little one, “All cleaned up.”

Your son’s big blue eyes sought you out and he wriggled away from George’s chest to reach his tiny arms out from the towel towards you instead with a sweet call of, “Mama.”

“Come here, my little love.” you cooed, reaching for him in return. 

George passed him over to you, the exchange making the towel slip off the little boy’s body for a moment until you gathered it back from your husband’s hands and tucked it back around the toddler. George chuckled faintly at the sight of the little one just as naked as the day he was born and still searching for the comfort of your embrace.

When your son was snuggled up in your arms instead, you asked him sweetly, “What’s the big idea going through mommy and daddy’s things, hm?”

George tutted in agreement and made sure the towel was sufficiently wrapped around his little body to keep him from catching a chill. The toddler just smiled innocently and batted his long lashes at his father and clung onto your shirt. 

George shook his head, amused and charmed, “It's not fair. He's so sweet and adorable that it makes it difficult to stay cross with him.”

“He’s just a curious little explorer.” you said with a smile, peppering a few kisses to your son’s head. “Who can be cross with him for that?”

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[superbbouquettidalwavo]

Cannot decide who does this best. But we need more of these...

“Sick Puppies? Awful?” a moodboard for @tinkerbelldetective​

[violent138]

I think Robin and Batgirl frequently accompany Battinson to crime scenes, and the first time they actually manage to draw a laugh out of him in public, the room goes silent. All the cops look more spooked than they have in hours with the dead body on the floor, while Jim tells the other cops to give them some room and seriously asks Batman if he's doing okay.

[kaliforniahigh]

Noah and this lightning 💜

[pagerunner-j]

New favorite reaction shot? New favorite reaction shot.

[cynicalclassicist]

Very distinctive shot of three recurring villains!

Such a good reaction shot

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Dungeon Meshi: The RPG

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook can’t sleep, and he can’t stop kissing you either.

> fluff, suggestive / word count: 2.6k

> content/warnings: alexa play seven by jungkook! mentions of s^x, lots and lots of cutie kisses :( they’re in that afterglow <3 oc’s chest is his pillow :(

> in which masterlist!

note: hi hi. here’s ur slice of pure self indulgent fluff 🍰 i just had to write abt this jk :P there’s a reference to in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you 🥹 reblogs & feedback are vv appreciated. i’d love to hear ur thoughts so feel free to scream or laugh or cry <3

—

a fleeting white light passes through your closed eyelids, nearly blinding, as you hear the familiar shutter of your boyfriend’s polaroid camera.

“jungkook,” you whimper weakly due to the sudden disturbance, burying your face on the soft pillows while pushing the camera away.

“shit, shit- sorry, baby-” he winces, guilty of disrupting your journey to slumber, as he scrambles to fix his mistake. “forgot to turn off the flash.”

he places the polaroid face down on the space behind him to give it the time to develop the photo he had taken. much to your relief, the bedroom falls silent once more except for the quiet humming and breathing of the airconditioner. you return to properly laying your head on the pillow, taking a small gasp of oxygen, and jungkook smiles because of how adorable you are for still refusing to open your eyes.

“can i take more pictures?”

“did you turn it off?” you whisper as you stretch your legs to find a more comfortable position, unwittingly pulling down the comforter and exposing your nakedness to the cool air. this gives rise to goosebumps on your skin, causing you to shiver, but your boyfriend is quick to your rescue. he catches the hem before it could slide past your skimpy shorts.

“i did.”

a chaste kiss is planted on your shoulder before it is returned underneath the warmth of soft layers of cotton and fabric.

you sigh, melting back into relaxation. “okay.”

he re-anchors his elbow into the mattress, resting his head on his palm to admire the majestic view of you. jungkook likes this a lot, he lives for it— lying on the bed face-to-face with his sated lover, spending the rest of the night feeling like his heart is not a big enough vessel to hold all the love he has for you. the lights he is yet to turn off have splashed the dark room with a red glow that engulfs your figure as well, escalating his heartbeat, so hypnotic and tantalizing, he finds himself breathing heavier and heavier behind the viewfinder, or maybe he has stopped breathing at all. the shutter briefly fills the silence.

this is… the arch of your back is burned in his mind and he swears he still tastes you on his tongue, but seeing you like this feels so different.

he was consumed by his pleasure and yours just half an hour ago, admittedly almost blinded by his own sweat dripping from his forehead because he simply couldn’t stop wanting more of you, giving himself to you. you weren’t exactly innocent either, with your provocative touches and coquettish smiles, whispering lewd words that was gasoline to the lust flaring up inside of him. he revels in seeing that you’re just as desperate for it as he is, if not more, purely from the way you beseech him with your eyes mirroring stained glass windows. he knows you love it when he fucks you so good it brings you to tears, welcoming the delightful intensity of his nature, and that you were also trying to tire him out so he’d finally feel sleepy, but holy shit, looking at you right now, he wants nothing more but to hold you with utmost gentleness.

wildly concentrated with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth, he brushes away the hair that fell on your face before capturing another exquisite memory to be burned into film.

jungkook is greedy when it comes to you.

a disgruntled whine slips from your mouth when the pillow underneath your head is replaced by his thick arm, which is then rudely cut off by his lips crashing on yours.

clearly, you’ve grown too comfortable in this relationship.

“i love you.” he drunkenly mutters, instantly going for another kiss and barely finishing his another- “i love you.” before he’s kissing you again.

“babe-” you chuckle then gasp, holding on to his wrist as his tattooed hand loosely wraps around your neck.

“i love you. i love you, i love y- i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you.” he repeats himself over and over, the volume of his voice gradually getting quieter as he runs out of breath, until his tongue becomes tied. grounded by the feeling of your steady pulse beneath his thumb, he silences himself by tenderly kissing you, soft lips molding with yours for a wordless declaration of devotion this time around.

pure static— there are no thoughts running in your head. your limbs feel numb but tingly. you feel like you’re floating- no, you’re falling. the bed has turned into an abyss and you’re falling endlessly and jungkook holding you close is the only thing that makes sense. you might have to consider this true heaven, nothingness with your everything, when the whole world is lights-out and quiet that it feels like time has been suspended, and the only way to keep track of it is through each pump of your heart.

at last, your eyelids slowly flutter open as he pulls away, and he greets you with that boyish grin. “pretty.”

his hand on your neck moves to stroke your face lovingly, eyes glimmering with various emotions as they wander your features.

“____ is so, so pretty.”

“hm, really?” you hum sleepily, leaning closer to his touch. “thanks to you.”

“me?” his doe eyes widen in confusion.

“you know, for the afterglow. i feel nice.” you giggle brightly at your own half-joke, positively out of your goddamn mind as you hide your warm face on his shoulder.

“ahhh- ah!”

enlightenment then dawns on your boyfriend.

his giggles blend in with yours for a harmony that strikes the same joy as the sound of wind chimes on a windy day.

jungkook tries not to appear too cocky about the compliment, but consequences be damned, he would die satisfying his lover.

“oh yeah, baby? do you now?” there’s a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face when you take a peek at him, which then morphs into a grin when your eyes meet. “i feel nice, too.”

“nice?” your voice comes out delicate, droopy eyes asking him for confirmation.

“nice.”

he feels a tug at his heartstrings.

“you know what? fucking great… i could never have enough of you.”

it becomes silent for a while. his tattooed hand slides under the comforter, letting his fingers skim across the side of your waist, feather-light touches on your bare skin before he’s pulling you closer to his body.

“i… i don’t doubt that feelings like this can only grow as time goes on but… it’s still amazing that when i think about it, even until now, all the time, i want to be with you.”

he involuntarily breathes out a shaky sigh, ears going red as they do when he’s expressing sincerity from the deepest parts of his soul.

“really, how do you do this…? what is this magic? why- why do i like you so much? i mean, i know why! of course! but, wow!” he squeezes his eyes shut to express his disbelief, clicking his head to the side. “it’s possible for it to be this much? do you get what i’m saying? i just have thoughts like that— love is so fascinating.”

you barely process his words with your brain still in a haze of bliss, but it’s funny, hearing these questions from the same man who has the entire world madly obsessed with him.

oh, this actually sounds familiar. he’s getting all sentimental and philosophical. again. and he’s not drunk. were you that good tonight?

“i won’t give away my secrets just like that. what if you use them on someone else?” you tease him, rubbing your tired eyes and shaking your head as you giggle.

you receive a dirty look from him, clearly offended and uninterested in the thought of putting in the hard effort to impress someone that isn’t you.

“aish, stop talking! i don’t like hearing you talk in that way.”

“then what else am i supposed to do? you’re the one who woke me up.” you retort in annoyance.

but you honestly don’t think there’s any secret to tell. jungkook is in love with you. plain and simple.

“you’re right, i’m sorry. go back to sleep if you want to.”

he dips down to plant gentle pecks on your shoulder, going down on a trail to your neck, and you unconsciously tilt your head to his convenience because he’s bringing the butterflies in your stomach back to life. it feels good, everything he does always feels good.

“you’re seriously not done?” you mumble against his lips, unfaltering with the kisses as if he would run out of them any minute now.

he stubbornly answers with a “no!” as his lips ghost over your cheek.

if only bam was here, jungkook would eventually leave you alone to rest. he would pester him with his late-night burst of affection instead while talking shit about you to your child because you dodged his kiss in your sleep.

“babe, you’re supposed to sleep. you have work later.”

“no, i don’t want to sleep. i… i want to kiss you- baby.” he protests as he continues to pepper your face with kisses, giving your body a particularly tight squeeze when he searches for your lips again.

you blink at him in confusion when he suddenly sends you a look of irritation, eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring.

“you haven’t even said ‘i love you’ back yet.”

“oh, i haven’t?” you wince innocently. “sorry. i love you.”

but he should be the one apologizing to you, since it’s his fault that you still can’t think straight, or walk for that matter.

you pat around the mattress behind his back until you stumble upon the camera, and it’s jungkook’s turn to be your beloved muse. you scoot away until the lens manage to capture him down to his shirtless abdomen. you watch him in complete awe behind the viewfinder. he squints at you, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously, and he smirks when you chuckle in amusement.

“ah wait- take this! take this! you have to take a good one, got it? i worked so hard on them yesterday!” he eagerly voices out a special demand.

he shuffles to flex his arm infront of the camera, showing off his well-defined triceps and biceps while releasing rich, throaty grunts. totally unnecessary, but so achingly jungkook.

your boyfriend is outrageously, ridiculously sexy— he’s still wearing that stupid black headband he hastily put on in the middle of sex because he got pissed off at his hair and he needed it out of the way so he could ‘properly see his love’s beautiful body.’

you roll your eyes inside your head.

what a fucking tease.

nonetheless, you acquiesce.

the flash goes off.

and another polaroid is crafted into existence that you selfishly want to keep for your eyes only.

“baby, let me see.”

“it’s mine!” you scrunch your nose with a childlike charm, hiding the polaroid behind your back.

he chuckles, hopelessly endeared by you.

“yes, i’m yours.” he coos in response.

and your unguarded heart is once again swept away by the taste of his tongue. the camera becomes an abandoned item. your fingers daintily pushes off his headband in favor of freely tangling them with his silky hair, and it also ends up getting lost somewhere in the sheets as his sweet kisses lull you in a false sense of security… because out of nowhere, that same blazing light burns through your closed eyes for the second time tonight.

jungkook playfully waves the polaroid infront of your face, and his toothy grin is met by your unimpressed expression.

“this is mine!”

he has been waiting to jump into this type of opportunity, to orchestrate a romantic moment to be stolen in film— you can tell by the sparkles in his eyes. reminiscent of that one late night in a tiny photobooth where your younger and clueless selves were cramped in, this is what you and his hyungs often talk about, how much you share the same fondness for the fact that jungkook hasn’t changed at all.

“just how many pictures of you kissing me do you need?” you ask him lightheartedly.

he juts out his bottom lip sullenly, and a few beats pass before he forms an answer. “i always need more for when i miss you.”

you copy his frown. “then what about me when i’m missing you too?”

“hmmm… i want you to always remember me like this, baby.” he melodramatically declares as he picks up the one and only polaroid you’ve taken of him tonight. “can you see my abs too…? oh- it’s not showing yet.”

he looks back at you shyly with a laugh, and he places it back down to let it continue developing.

“i’ll look later. i can’t even keep my eyes open anymore. ‘m so tired.” you sadly sniffle to gain his pity, fluttering your damp eyelashes at him. “let’s go to sleep, please?”

jungkook doesn’t find it in himself to articulate a consolation or protest, not when you’re tugging him down to coax him into laying his head on your chest.

“heaven.” he moans, overcome by contentment.

he adjusts himself a bit to be more comfortable before dragging the comforter further upwards to provide warmth for the two of you, all the while refusing to remove his face nuzzled up against you.

“why are you always like this? can you even breathe?” you chuckle with your eyes closed.

“i love your boobs.” his honest reply comes out muffled, cute for some reason, along with his satisfied hums prompted by your nails lightly scratching his scalp.

“i know.”

he turns his head to the side to look up at you, and he carries on to speak with his cheek squished against you. “i really, really mean it.”

“yes, baby. i believe you.”

a minute of silence passes. the ecstasy still flooding your veins becomes a stepping stone in the pond towards your dreamland, where all is either fantastically perfect or horrifically fucked up.

but then you feel sloppy kisses being deliberately scattered in the middle of your chest, leading down to your stomach, and you get rudely knocked over into the cold, clear waters.

yes, plea- oh no, no, no, no.

“jungkook, baby, stop. i can’t go another round.” you whine pathetically, being driven closer to the urge to burst into tears.

“AH! o-ow- ouch- baby, wha- i swear, i wasn’t even planning on it!” he loudly exclaims in surprise when you harshly pull him away by his hair.

“still…” your voice cracks. “you know i’ll get turned on!”

his chuckles are infuriatingly raspy and of no help at all, ego inflating upon hearing your response and the frustration obviously laced with it.

“okay, okay! i’m sorry! i’ll behave now!”

thank god.

he assumes his previous position, the place that he deems to be the warmest and the coziest. as he wraps his arms around your waist, your fist relaxes into an open palm that cradles the back of his head.

“____?” he mumbles, finally feeling the tiredness seep into his sore muscles now that he’s lying motionless.

“hmm?”

“let’s eat dinner outside after work.”

“…meat?”

“and beer!” he adds, brimming with excitement, and he salivates as he can almost taste them in his mouth already. they are his favorite, after all.

“i’ll come pick you up then.” you drop a kiss on his forehead, and he sighs happily. “but go to sleep or else i’ll kick you out of the bedroom again.”

his sweet embrace becomes an iron grip.

cold and alone, he swears those were some of the worst three hours of his life.

he squeaks in defeat. “goodnight, baby.”

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