#Vocal support is not enough

[katyspersonal]

I should have posted this earlier tbh, but at least some stellar conversations on Xitter me and my friend had yesterday and today reminded me of this hhgghtghhg

[moonchild-in-blue]

@aaron-is-comatose Buddy, do I have news for you! (you already know where this is going)

For those of you who don't know, or are new to Sleep Token (welcome!!), let this be your introductory Adamross Williams guide.

You might know him primarily as Adamrossi, Sleep Token's main touring photographer responsible for gorgeous photos like -

However!! There is more!!

Not only is he an insanely skilled photo/videographer, he is also the frontman and lead singer of the Welsh post-rock band Glass Heart!

Wow! Look at the lads! Dashing! Silly!

(1st pic in order - Nathan, Adam, Jake and Sam)

[If their faces seem familiar, it is because not only are the guys in other bands, they have also been a part of the Sleep Token crew - most recently as models for these New and Exclusive garments, along with Adam's gf 🥹)

They are so, so good, and I promise I'm not just saying that. It's actually kinda insane how beautiful and powerful Adam's voice is.

This is their latest single - The Worst Part Of Me - released in August 2024:

and these are the previous most recent releases - Letting Go and Colourblind - from 2023:

Their discography is quite small still, so you can easily catch up on them in under 2h. Definitely reccomend everyone to at least give their last ep - Weathered - a spin. They are so underrated, and I for one am very excited to see them grow more and more!

Here's a bonus silly Adam hitting the anime schoolgirl pose for your troubles:

[anonymousyellowlizard]

There are SIX SONGS in the season finale?? Let's goooo

[snekdood]

i just think you should be grateful for any piece of art i create while america is descending into fascism, instead of expecting me to over perform for some reason.

[fideidefenswhore]

Did Katherine of Aragon ever said nasty things about either Elizabeth Tudor or her parentage? Did she said something else than "Scandal of Christendom" about Anne Boleyn? It seems even today writers and historians are so eager to remember the nasty words of Anne, but forget when Anne or her baby daughter were insulted.

She referred to Elizabeth as “perverse offspring” (this was technically more about whatever issue would come from Henry & Anne’s “illegitimate marriage”, but); of Anne, besides that quote, she was not recorded as having said anything about her directly. Her confessor did (‘Jezebel’), though, and it’s plausible that given how frequently Chapuys recorded his private meetings with Katherine, she herself might have often been the source of his retellings of court events involving Anne.

[diegodionisioluna]

.

[bitfruity]

i was honestly really disappointed in the joint artist’s statement shared by olly and all who signed it. i know they’ve all signed contracts they legally have to abide by or face legal consequences, but i was still hoping for more. it only takes one broadcaster or contestant to start the domino affect of threats to withdraw. if not that, they could boycott the preparties or refuse interviews/publicity (which is what esc needs to build viewership). the media would have to talk about why some of the contestants are boycotting due to isnotreals genocide in palestine. the contestants should be doing everything they contractually can to bring attention to this.

wearing the artists for ceasefire pins is a nice gesture but it’s purposefully not loud. if you don’t know what it means it goes unnoticed. and i think that barely counts as a statement when most of the general public would have to google it to find out. it would be much more affective to wear a palestinian flag to show meaningful support and it would piss isnotreal off. that being said the palestinian flag is banned in esc and i assume any mention of palestine or the palestinian people as well.

so… what do we do here? what’s the point of all this if their support is superficial? we need actual statements and risks to be taken. i’m sorry but the excuse that they shouldn’t have to sacrifice their opportunity at esc is asinine to me. it’s unfortunate that they’ve been put in this position, yes. but people are dying, children are dying. we’ve been watching a genocide being carried out before our eyes. countless war crimes committed and bragged about with no consequence or signs of stopping. it’s a sacrifice people need to be making. to hopefully save lives and help shift policy.

speaking out and boycotting makes a difference. it could force the ebu to make isnotreal withdraw (let’s be honest they’ll never ban them). or if isnotreal sees that esc isn’t going to be profitable for them and the public opinion is against them they might withdraw themselves. the whole point they’re in esc is to garner support and promote propaganda. we have to show them that that will not be possible. no one will watch. no one will do interviews. no one will participate. the ebu only cares when the money stops. remember that.

so please follow the bds’s call to boycott eurovision

there’s also this twitter account isrbreaksrules dedicated to calling out isnotreals blatant violations of the ebu’s rules

[timcassie]

As someone whose main music scene is punk & rock, it’s both delightful and tragic that fellow fans of that genre are the ones to jump to Chappell Roan’s defense. We shouldn’t be so used to what poor mental health can do to celebrities but we are. It’s nice to see people who wouldn’t normally listen to her rally for her, but it’s so sad that the people who would listen have decided she’s not worth their time anymore just because she has emotions…

[navree]

do we think that ilhan omar winning her primary is gonna finally get Those people to stop it with their 'the only reason x person is losing is because of the outside influence of evil jew cabal blood money i mean aipac' spiel, or nah?

[harryhandstan]

I love Harry so fucking much but there’s something so incredibly dystopian about things like the fact that he’s at a sports event or his hair trending when he’s continued to stay silent on the genocide that is happening in Palestine

[therealkaidertrash21]

i know we all have different problems and stuff but, I just get this weird feeling every time someone who gets (somewhat) what I want feels bad about themselves or their life.

[coffeeallaloneandlord]

tell me why I was listening to a spotify-generated playlist today and it was playing stolen versions of Taylor's songs.... the audacity.

[iwieldthesword]

I need to talk about this because it's making me feel insane.

Last week, my white leftist goyisch friends sat me, a wholeass antizionist Jew, down for a "talk" because they "needed to check in about Palestine" and make sure "our values aligned before we hung out again". They apparently needed to "suss out" where I stood on Palestinian rights, despite having had several conversations about Palestine and them being some of my closest friends. They needed to check, to search for and uncover my true values, because I had said some "disturbing things" that had made them "suspicious".

Disturbing things included:

Supporting IfNotNow which is a "liberal zionist organization" because it normalizes Jewish heritage in the Levant

Not bringing Palestine up enough, despite them also not bringing it up (this was apparently a test)

Mentioning that the Houthi's flag talks about cursing all Jews

Saying Stalin was antisemitic because of the "all the paw-grihms"

...and apparently other things they wouldn't specify, but had been tracking for months.

To clarify, I am an antizionist Jew from three generations of antizionist Jews. I have been vocal in my support of Palestinian liberation and in my condemnation both of Israel's actions and its violent founding as a state, and of zionism in many of its forms. I am a regular donor to Palestinian and Jewish NGOs and advocate for Jewish antizionism in person, at temple, and online. I have been talking about Palestinian liberation before they could point to Gaza on a map. But they needed to make sure, they needed to "suss out", they needed to check. And it's notable that the majority of moments that made them suspicious of me were times where I talked about antisemitism: not about Palestinian liberation, not about Israeli decolonization, not about anything actually relevant to Palestine. It was talking about antisemitism that made them check to see if I was a cryptozionist.

One of the most pervasive and insidious forms of antisemitism is the idea that Jews are inherently untrustworthy and suspicious. You have to constantly be on guard, track what they say and do, "suss out" the real truth. You have to keep them in line and and watch them carefully because they're liars and sneaks, and if you're not looking closely they'll return to their real values (and drag you down with them). This is where the idea of "cryptozionist" comes from and what it's directly building off of: the inherent untrustworthiness of Jews and the need to check. Because no matter how close you become you can't actually trust them, and any upstanding gentile should make sure to avoid associating with Jews before "sussing out" their real allegiances and intentions. You have to make them turn out their pockets, just in case.

I'm the first and only Jew they actually were friends with; I know because they've told me (strangely proud of it in the way white Americans are proud of that kind of thing). They've asked me questions about Judaism and fawned over how beautiful and unique it was for me to be connected to my community and culture. Pre-October 7th, one of them had even mentioned being interested in coming to services at my temple. She still has my copy of our siddur. But now she needed to "check" before she could be seen with me in public. Which is what it was: it wasn't a "you're my friend and I need to give you some feedback because you're fucking up" kind of intervention (which is normal and important to have), it was a trial. It was a last chance for me to prove to them that I'm clean-enough that they could afford to risk being seen with me in public, just in case someone noticed them fraternizing with a hypothetical Enemy and their leftism was compromised. It was a test to make sure that I behave properly when required to, that I'd play along and do what I'm told and turn out my pockets if asked (because any refusal would validate the notion of having something to hide). And above all it was an opportunity for them to reaffirm their own cleanliness by putting my imagined immorality in its place.

I did what I needed to do: I smiled. I apologized. I "didn't know that". I "appreciated the feedback". I turned out my pockets because what else could I do? They'd decided who I was and what I believed, regardless of what I said or did, so there was no point in explaining that they were wrong about me. If I had told them they were being antisemitic, it would just have been proof that they were right. Caring about antisemitism is a dogwhistle in the spaces they've chosen: it's not a real form of oppression, it's a tactic for sneaky, lying Jews to weasel out of admitting their true alliances. There was nothing I could say.

Nothing's really changed for me. I'm going to continue my activism for Palestinian liberation rooted in my culture and my faith. Antizionism is still not antisemitism. But I got a reminder that many white goyisch leftists fundamentally just don't trust Jews, and that the activist spaces they're in not only exacerbate their antisemitism in an increasingly insular echo chamber, but also allow them to finally vent their internalized bigotry in a socially-acceptable way. In my former friends' eyes, what they did was activism—disavowing a Jew (and making me feel humiliated, scared, and unclean in the process) as a cathartic stand-in for doing fucking anything for actual Palestinian liberation—but for me it was a grief that I'll be feeling for a long time: not only over losing friends I loved and trusted, but also over my sense of belonging and security in leftist spaces.

[gukcnt]

SAFE HAVEN ⭒ JJK

in which you, a devoted wife, comfort your stressed husband with a loving meal, your support and an intimate passionate night

pairing — husband dom!jungkook x housewife sub!femreader

genre — established relationship, slice of life, domestic vibes, slight angst, romance, smut, fluff

warnings/tags — 18+, explicit smut, possessiveness, smoking as a form of stress relief, emotional comfort and vulnerability, stress and anger, devotion, emotional and physical intimacy, oral sex (m. receiving), blowjob, cock sucking and palming, face fucking, hair fisting, deep throating and gagging, making out, hickies/marking, bruising, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, slight degradation, oral sex (f. receiving), breast play, nipple play, nipple sucking, he is obsessed with her tits, fingering, clit stimulation, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, creampie, crying from pleasure and pain, scratching, love confessions, aftercare

wc — 5.2k

m. list

────୨ৎ────

The late afternoon sun streamed through the curtains, painting the living room in a soft glow.

The home was still except for the occasional noises of your movements.

You stood in the kitchen, barefoot, dressed in one of Jungkook's oversized black t-shirts.

It hung loosely on your petite frame, carrying the lingering scent of his cologne—a comforting reminder of your husband.

As you busied yourself preparing his favorite dinner.

Your hands moved with quiet confidence, slicing vegetables. The kitchen was a place where you poured your heart into every dish you made for Jungkook.

Tonight, you wanted everything to be just right.

Earlier when he’d called you during his lunch break, his voice had been different, weary—a stark difference from his usual warmth.

He hadn’t said much, but you knew him enough to know that he had a rough day at work.

As his wife, you always wanted to create a warm home for him, a place where he could leave the world's burden behind and just focus on you.

Be himself.

You hummed a small tune to yourself, focussing.

Cooking for Jungkook was your way of showing love, an act of devotion that spoke louder than words.

Especially when your shyness sometimes held you back from being vocal about your love for him.

As the clock neared the timing of his arrival, you glanced at the front door, heart fluttering, but worry still laced your thoughts.

Jungkook would be home soon.

And you wanted to be ready for him.

You smoothed the t-shirt over your thighs, you absolutely loved wearing his clothes—it felt like a piece of him was with you.

All the time.

Your hair was pulled into a messy bun, few strands framing your face, and you wore no makeup in your natural state.

Exactly the way your husband preferred.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway soon brought you out of your thoughts. Your pulse quickening as you heard the heavy thud of the car door.

You bit your bottom lip before turning quickly.

You turned off the stove, wiped your hands on a towel, and took a deep breath.

Wanting to brace yourself for whatever mood Jungkook might bring home

The front door soon opened, and there he was—Jeon Jungkook, stepping inside with his broad frame like a king dressed in a tailored black suit.

His commanding presence filling the room.

You can see that his broad shoulders were strained against his suit, dark hair slightly ruffled as if he’d raked his hands through it in frustration.

A habit of his that you knew by heart.

His jaw was clenched, brows drawn in a frown, his heaviness made your heart clench as he dropped his briefcase by the door and yanked his tie, loosening it with an irritated tug.

Seeing him like this—so handsome yet so clearly tired and exhausted—made your heart ache.

“Hey.” you said, softly.

Stepping out of the kitchen, moving towards him. Your hands fidgeting together, a nervous habit of yours and you looked at him.

Unsure how to reach him when he was in this state.

Jungkook didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he walked to the living room in a few long strides and sank down onto the couch, head tipping back against the cushions.

He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one with the help of his lighter. He took a deep drag, exhaling, the smoke curling upwards.

The sharp smell of tobacco mixed with the lingering smell of dinner.

And you watched him quietly, heart twisting at how wounded he seemed.

You stood near the kitchen, fingers twisting his t-shirt, watching him smoke in silence.

His gaze fixed somewhere far off, distracted, free hand tapped on his thigh restlessly.

Cigarettes were rare for him, something he only turned to when the stress was too heavy for him to handle.

You hated seeing him like this but you also knew he needed a moment before he’d finally let you in.

Finally, you got the courage and decided to approach him, steps slow and careful.

“kookie.” you murmured.

Using the nickname that always seemed to soften him even on his darkest days.

You stopped in front of the couch, close enough to feel the warmth and anger radiating off him and you looked down at him with wide worried eyes.

“Are you okay?”

Jungkook's eyes met yours and for a moment the harshness in his face disappeared.

His gaze softened as he took you in—your small frame in his t-shirt, bare legs and flushed cheeks.

He took another drag before stubbing his cigarette out in the ashtray on the coffee table.

Without a word he reached for you, large hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

You let out a gasp.

He drew you close, body tightly held against his. His arms encircling you, strong and possessive, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply.

You felt his lips brush your skin in a tender kiss that sent a shiver down your spine.

“God baby...” he murmured.

Voice rough against your neck, heavy with exhaustion

“You're the only thing that makes this day worth getting through.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Using one hand to run your fingers through his dark hair.

“I’m here, kookie.” you whispered, voice trembling with emotion.

“always”

He kissed you, lips claiming yours with a slow, gentle kiss, allowing you to taste him—smoke and something so him.

You melted into him, in the warmth of him.

His hands roamed all over your back, cupping your ass, pressing you closer to him, coaxing a moan out of you, swallowing it with his tongue.

You felt the tension in his body begin to loosen, shoulders easing as he lost himself in you.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours.

Forehead against yours, warm breath hitting your lips.

“I had a shit day, baby,” he admitted, voice quieter now, less sharp but still heavy.

“Work was a fucking mess.”

You cupped his face gently, thumbs brushing his cheeks.

“Want to talk about it?” you asked, voice soft and encouraging.

You shifted in his lap, straddling him so you could face him fully, knees sinking into the couch on either side of him.

His hands settled on your thighs, fingers tracing lazy circles in your bare skin.

And you felt your chest warming at the familiar closeness you were receiving from him.

Jungkook sighed, head tipping back against the couch, he started at the ceiling.

“The new client we’re dealing with—they’re a nightmare,” he started, voice filled with frustration.

“They keep changing the contract, demanding more work without wanting to pay for it. My team’s been working their asses off for weeks, and today during the presentation, the client boss had the balls to call our work basic, fucking ‘basic,’ baby. After all the late nights and endless work, the bullshit we’ve put up with”

You listened closely, heart aching for him.

Jungkook was a senior manager in a company and while he always loved taking challenges, sometimes the relentless demands of his job wore him down.

Way too much.

You reached for his tie, fingers working to take it off as he spoke, paying attention to him talking out his feelings while you take care of him.

Your touch gentle and soothing.

“That’s not fair,” you said softly, sympathy lacing your voice.

“You work so hard, koo… They don’t appreciate you enough.”

He lets out a bitter chuckle, hands tightening on your thighs as he speaks.

“No kidding. And then, to make it worse, one of my team members screwed up the project during the meeting. I had to jump in and fix it on the spot in front of everyone and the client just sat there smirking like they’d won something.”

You frowned, hands pausing at his tie.

“That’s awful,” you murmured.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that. You’re always cleaning up other people’s mistakes.”

“You also deserve to be taken care of… Who will look after yours, mhmm?” you huffed.

Clenching his shirt in your fist like you were trying to prove a point.

Jungkook’s eyes softened at your cuteness, looking at you, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re too good to me, you know that?” he said, tenderly

“I come home ranting like this, and you just… listen. You make it all feel lighter.”

Your cheek warmed and you look away, suddenly shy under his gaze.

“I just want you to feel okay,” you mumbled, focusing on unbuttoning the top of his shirt.

“You do so much for us, always working tirelessly. I want to take care of you too.”

He smiled, a genuine smile that only you bring out of him, making your breath hitch in happiness.

“You do, sweetheart.” he hummed, hands sliding up your waist, squeezing gently.

“more than you know”

You finished loosening his tie and draped it over the couch arm, lazily, running your hands down his chest, feeling the hard muscles underneath his shirt.

“Why don’t you go take a shower?” you suggested, softly.

“It’ll help you relax. I'll warm up the dinner for you meanwhile.”

Jungkook's eyes fixed on you for a moment, intense and unreadable and he nodded.

“Alright,” he rasped.

“But only because you’re asking so nicely.”

You giggled softly, the sound helping with the heavy mood and tension, you slid off his lap, standing in front of him.

He stood towering over you with his tallness, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t take too long” you teased, voice playful.

He smirked, a hint of his usual charm breaking through.

“Yes, ma’am” he quipped, allowing his palm to give your bottom a small quick slap.

You let out a squeak, lips parting in shock and shyness.

You can hear the man laugh deeply, heading towards the bathroom, disappearing down the hallway.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, and you returned to the kitchen.

Your heart feeling lighter.

You turned on the stove to reheat the food, rich aroma filling the air again and you started setting the table with care.

Arranging plates and needed utensils. You lastly poured two glasses of iced tea.

Knowing Jungkook loved its cool flavor with dinner.

In the bathroom Jungkook shed all his clothing, fabric pooling on the floor. He turned on the shower.

Letting the hot water stream down his shoulders, washing away the day’s frustrations.

He closed his eyes, the steam surrounding him.

He thought of you—your soft voice, gentle hands and the way you looked in his t-shirt, so small and perfect.

So his.

The tightness in his chest began to loosen, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the water.

Back in the kitchen, you hummed, plating the food and arranging the meat and vegetables neatly.

When you heard the shower shut off, you glanced toward the hallway, stomach twisting in anticipation.

Jungkook emerged a few minutes later, hair damp and messy, now wearing a black t-shirt that clung to his hard muscles and gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips.

He looked more relaxed, jaw still slightly clenched and a faint crease in his brow.

You knew he was still carrying some of the day’s weight.

He walked into the dining area, eyes softening as he took in whatever you placed on the table.

“This looks incredible, love.” he said, voice warm with gratitude.

He pulled out a chair and sat down, gaze flickering to you when you set his plate in front of him.

“You didn’t have to do all this.”

You blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I wanted to,” you said, softly, “you deserve it.”

He never liked whenever you overworked yourself, he even insisted at times on doing the house chores, not wanting you to work too much, but you never listened.

Always wanting to take care of him.

He reached for your hand, tugging you close until you stood between his legs.

“Sit with me,” he said, voice firm but gentle.

“You’re eating too.”

You nodded, a bashful, shy smile on your lips, grabbed your plate, sitting across him.

Jungkook waited until you took your first bite before starting.

A habit of his that felt natural to you now.

He would always do this, never wanting to do anything first without you starting it before him.

He watched you, eyes filling with a mix of protectiveness and affection.

“Good girl.” he muttered.

And you felt a familiar warmth pooling between your legs from his praise.

Dinner was quiet at first.

Only the sounds of clatter from plates and Jungkook's occasional hum of approval.

The meat was tender and flavorful and you smiled to yourself when he reached for seconds.

His appetite felt like a silent compliment to your efforts.

You knew he loved eating so you always made sure to make a sufficient amount of food, especially his favorites.

“This is perfect, baby,” he said between bites, eyes meeting yours.

“You always know how to make me feel better.”

Your heart swelled and you looked down, focusing on your own plate.

“I’m glad you like it, koo,” you said quietly, with a smile.

He chuckled, reaching across the table to tilt your chin up with one finger.

“Don’t hide from me,” he teased, thumb brushing your lower lip.

“You know I don’t like it.”

“I want to see that pretty face of yours.”

You scoffed, blushing fiercely, a grin appearing on your face with no restraint.

“kookie,” you whined, embarrassed by his attention, he grins, a deep rumble escaping his mouth.

The conversation flowed easily between you two after that, a mix of light teasing and deeper moments.

Jungkook talked about his new project that he and his team were starting, his voice high with excitement while he was described the parts he was most anticipating.

You listened quietly, asking questions and always offering quiet encouragement.

Always giving him your full attention.

“You’re so good at what you do,” you said at one point, voice sure.

“I'm so proud of you, kookie.”

He paused, fork hovering over his plate, looking at you with an intensity that stole your breath.

“You’ve no idea how much that means,” he breathes, voice serious.

“Coming home to you, hearing you say that… it’s everything.”

Your chest heaved and you looked away, overwhelmed by his presence. He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently.

As if he never wants to let you go.

When dinner was done, you started clearing the table together.

Jungkook insisted on helping you despite your protests.

“You cooked, I clean.” he said firmly, leaving no space for arguments.

His hands brushed yours, taking the plates to the sink. You stood side by side washing and drying the dishes in comfortable silence.

The simple act so full of love.

Grounding you both.

Later you both sat on the couch together, Jungkook's arm draped over your shoulder, a movie playing on the television.

You knew he wasn't paying attention in it at all.

You still felt the tension in his frame, jaw still clenching, body tight and you knew his earlier ease had soon turned into unease.

You glanced up at him from his chest, feeling sad at the fact that you couldn’t help his silent struggle.

“koo…” you crooned, turning to face him.

“You’re still tense. Is there anything I can do?”

Wanting to help him more than anything.

He looked at you, eyes unreadable, an emotion you couldn’t quite read.

“Just keep being you,” he said, gruffly.

“That’s more than enough.”

You nodded, heart racing and leaned up, hand pressing on his chest, and kissed him, gentle and reassuring.

Trying to comfort him through actions.

The kiss deepened, his tongue exploring your mouth and hands slid under your shirt—his hand caressing your bare stomach, causing you to let out a shaky whimper.

“Let’s go to bed.” he grunts against your lips, voice thickening with need.

You let him lead you to the bedroom, small hand warm in his big, calloused ones.

The bedroom was dimly lit from the bedside lamp and you climbed onto the bed, the fabric riding up to reveal that you wore nothing beneath.

Jungkook's nostrils flared when he noticed it, gaze lingering on your soft, bare thighs.

He sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for another cigarette, lighting it. He took a slow drag eyes never leaving you, and you felt a flush creep up your neck at his predatory stare.

You watched as he exhaled, you knew he was thinking of ways to make you forget your name.

He always did that… admire his meal.

Before devouring it fully.

The sight of him smoking unraveled you in ways you couldn’t explain.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said roughly, the cigarette lazily dangling between his fingers.

“sitting there in my shirt, looking like that”

You flushed, tugging at the hem of the T-shirt, his words sending a thrill through you.

He soon stubbed out the cigarette, reaching for you, pulling you into his lap with a hard yank.

His manhandling knocked the breath off your chest.

He kissed you deeply, tongue exploring everywhere in your mouth as the taste of tobacco and your strawberry lip balm mixed together.

Something so familiar and lewd.

You mewled softly in his mouth, gripping his hair until he groaned in return.

His hand slid under the t-shirt, calloused fingers grazing your lower back before cupping your bare ass, squeezing firmly.

Fingers barely touching your bare cunt, you gasp out on his ear, panting.

The sensation was like a jolt, skin tingling as you arched into him, breasts pressing against his chest.

The fabric of your shirt and his hard chest teasing your sensitive nipples, that were already hard from the cool air and his gaze.

“kookie…”

“Fuck, baby.” he growls, voice rough with want.

He breaks the kiss and doesn’t waste any time before leaving hot, open mouthed kisses down your jaw to the sensitive spot below your ear.

His breath warm, stubble tickling your skin, making you let out a series of needy noises at the delicious feeling of that along with the softness of his lips.

“You sound so sweet when you make those noises, keep going for me.”

Your pussy was dripping, clit throbbing already and you could feel the wetness stream down your thighs, making you squirm.

His hand steadied you, not letting you move away from him.

He pushed your t-shirt up, exposing your breasts to the cool air, nipples puckering further under his gaze.

“Oh God…” you breathed.

Jungkook's eyes darkened, eyes hungry, taking in your bare breasts, nipples begging for his touch and mouth.

“These damn tits.” he rasps, adoration in his voice.

His thumb brushed over the sensitive buds and the contact was so sudden, too much pleasure, that it made you cry out a soft moan.

He rolled your nipples between his fingers, pinching just enough to make you writhe, your hips rocking against his instinctively.

His hard cock strained against his sweatpants, the feeling of it pressing against your bare cunt was too much.

Too much all at once.

Your clit throbbed harder, the fabric of his sweatpants stimulating it, your body eagerly grinding on him.

“Mhhh, jungkook, please…” you pant.

Your voice trembled, hands clutching his shoulders, nails digging into his muscles needily.

“Patience, baby” he teased.

His lips curled into a smirk with amusement from your neediness.

He leaned down to take one nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling around the peak, hot and wet, before he sucked hard, the pull sending pleasure pain straight to your core.

“Oh hahh—oh Kookie—”

Your voice broke in a cry as your head fell back, body arching into his mouth.

The wet heat of his tongue, along with the slight graze of his teeth, other hand kneading your breast, thumb flicking your nipple.

It was overwhelming.

You shuddered, lost in him.

Lost in pleasure.

He switched to your other breast, making sure to provide you with the same attention everywhere, tongue lapping at you like he can never get enough.

“Hah… shit…”

The room filled with your gasps and breathy whimpers that encouraged him.

He loved it when you were vocal.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging and he growled against your nipple, the vibration making you tremble.

Your head dizzy.

“So damn responsive.” he chuckles darkly, lips brushing your nipples and he blows on your saliva coated wet nipple.

“Ah!”

A cry tore from your throat, gripping his hair harder, his teasing too much for you.

“You’re perfect, love. My perfect girl”

You pushed his hands away, cheeks flushed.

You slid off his lap, kneeling between his legs on the floor.

A bold act of yours that rarely comes out for him to see.

His eyes widened, than darkened with lust when you tugged at his sweatpants, your fingers trembling.

You wanted to make him feel good.

He always went all the way to pleasure you and never asked for anything in return.

Today you wanted it to be about him.

His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, tip glistening with precum and you swallowed hard.

You were intimidated but aching to please your husband.

The sheer size of him always surprising you despite seeing it almost every day.

You wrapped your hand around him, fingers barely meeting as you stroked slowly, feeling the hardness of him along with the throb of his cock.

“Fuck, baby…” he groans, his head falling back, hand fisting the sheets.

His voice was gravel and strained, and it made your pussy palpitate harder.

You leaned down, lips brushing the tip, tongue coming out to catch the droplet of his precum, tasting his saltiness and he hissed.

He growls, hips twitching, struggling to hold back.

He wanted to fuck your pretty mouth.

Wanted to take that mouth like how he would take your pussy.

Your eyes meet his, his expression making you clench around nothing.

Wanting to be filled, feeling empty as ever.

You slowly took him into your mouth, lips stretching around him while your tongue swirled before sinking lower.

You struggled to take the entirety of him, he was too big.

He hit the back of your throat and you were already choking, tears filling your eyes, struggling to breathe

It was too much.

You moaned around him, the vibration making him curse.

“Goddamn it, baby,” he snarled, fingers tangling in your hair, guiding your head gently.

“Suck your husband’s cock like that. You’re so damn good.”

You bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks, your own noises sputtering, free hand stroked where your mouth couldn’t reach.

Along with his balls, gripping the heaviness of them in your fingers, fondling them.

Wet slurps, your gasps and his ragged breathing—filled the room, along with the creak of the bed from his movements.

Your throat ached, eyes watering, but that didn’t stop you from taking him deeper.

Loving how he unraveled.

For you.

His stress seemed to melt, replaced by raw animal need.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this,” he rasped, thumb brushing a tear away from your cheek.

“my good wife.”

He thrust into your mouth, his grip on your hair tightening and you tried to relax your throat, letting him take control.

Your gurgles and cries vibrated around him, drew curses and grunts from him.

You felt pride in how you made him feel.

“You’re going to make me come, sweet girl” he warned, voice strained.

His hips stuttering as you continued sucking him like you would suck a lollipop.

Your favorite candy.

He finally pulled you off him with a soft, wet pop.

Your lips swollen, eyes teary and cheeks flushed.

The sight made him let out an animal growl, he pulls you up to him, crashing his lips against yours.

The kiss was messy and desperate.

All tongue and teeth.

The taste of your lip balm mixing with his saltiness drove you both closer to madness.

He flipped you onto your back, legs spread wide by his hands gripping your thighs, you panted.

“koo…” you called out to him, making him shush you.

Wanting to take his time with you.

The t-shirt bunched around your waist, exposing you, and he exhaled angrily.

A primal sound that made you want to squeeze your legs together, something he didn’t allow.

“Look at you,” he mutters.

Voice thick, he slides a finger through your swollen folds, collecting your wetness, you whined at the slight touch, racing heart matching with your pulsing clit.

“So damn wet for me. This little pussy's all mine, right?”

You blushed, gripping the bedsheets tightly, and nodded.

“Yes, kookie…” you uttered, eyes half lidded.

He smirked and without any warning, slid two fingers inside, curling them to hit that spot.

You sobbed, back arching, pussy walls gripping him tightly.

You struggled to breathe properly.

He pumped his fingers inside you, thumb circling your clit, and you squirmed, moans loud and frantic as your hands bunched the sheets around you.

“That’s it, baby,” he coos, drinking in your expressions.

“Let me hear you. Let me know how good I make my girl feel.”

His words made you needier and you keened, the wet sounds of his fingers were too much, too obscene, and you soon felt your orgasm building.

Body trembling and lips parted.

Before you could come, he pulled out, and you let out a loud, needy whine, tears instantly welling in your eyes from the loss.

“Noo, please…”

“Patience, naughty girl.” he purred.

Aligning himself with your entrance, he teased you, rubbing the tip through your folds, sliding up and down your slit but never entering.

You squirmed on the sheets.

“Jungkook, please, I need you, don’t tease me.” you begged.

Shyness gone, body and mind high on needing something only he could give you.

His eyes softened, his love for you filling his heart, and he decided to give in.

He pushed into you in one smooth thrust, penetrating you and you both moaned.

A shared sound of relief.

He was big, stretching you perfectly with a slight burn from the fullness even after having him fuck you for years now.

“Fucking shit,” he grunts as he bottoms out.

“Always so tight, so warm. Such a good wife for me.”

He set a relentless pace, deep and hard and each thrust of his was hitting that spot inside you, making you full on wail onto the sheets.

“Yes, yes!”

Spilled from your lips repetitively.

The headboard starts hitting the wall, room filling with the noises of skin slapping against each other along with wet squelches.

His snarls, gripping your hips and pulled you into each thrust, your legs wrapping around him.

Pulling him even deeper.

If that was even possible.

Your nails raked his back, leaving red trails, he welcomes the pain, hips snapping faster, balls slapping against your folds roughly.

“Yeah? You like that?” he growled.

His forehead met yours, eyes locked on yours, raw and full of need and he licked your collarbone, nibbling.

“Take it all, baby. Be a good little girl for me, come on.”

You yelped body trembling, he pounded you faster, your breasts bouncing, t-shirt tangled around your breast.

The sight of you almost naked, yet wrapped in his clothing, had him going feral in need.

He started sucking a hickey into your neck, turning it purple, you felt the force of his anger and need from his roughness.

Taking out all his pent up tension on you.

What you wanted.

“jungkook!” you wailed, mind hazy from pleasure and pain, your walls clenching around him, tightening on him.

He groaned, feeling your orgasm nearing.

“Come for me, baby,” he urged, voice hungry, thrusts erratic.

“Come on your husband’s cock.”

He slipped a hand between you, thumb fingering your clit, and that’s it.

You shattered.

Your orgasm crashing over you so fast and hard, you saw stars behind your vision

“kookie! nghh, it's too much—”

You screamed his name, voice broken, body convulsing, milking him.

He didn’t stop, chasing his own release, thrusts sloppy but deep and the overstimulation made you sob, biting your own fist to teeter you to the pain.

“You feel so good, fuck—” he shuddered, grip tightening, leaving bruises.

“gonna fill this tight cunt up!”

You clung to him and he came with a guttural curse, cock pulsing, filling you with spurts and spurts of his cum until it dripped down your thighs.

He collapsed onto you, not pulling out just yet, his heavy weight grounding you.

You panted, sweaty, his tongue entering your mouth once again, kissing you messily.

He pulled back and left a small kiss at the tip of your nose.

An action he often did after intimate moments, making you feel cherished in a way you cannot explain.

“I love you,” he gruffs, voice raw with emotion.

“so damn much”

You pouted, looking away, your shyness returning, but you never forgot to say it back, no matter the circumstances.

“I love you too, koo.”

He held you close to his chest, cuddling you.

You felt safe in his arms as the afterglow wrapped around both of you, warmth surrounding you both.

When he slowly decided to pull out of your heat, you whined at the emptiness, missing it instantly and he chuckled, nuzzling your cheek.

“My needy baby” he teased.

You soon curled up on his hard chest, bare breasts pressing against his skin and kissed the tattoo of your name over his heart.

A delicate reminder from your first anniversary.

When he decided to surprise you with a tattoo of your name on his chest.

Forever branding you to him.

He watched you, eyes softening, thinking how lucky he was to have you—his shy, sweet wife who loved him so fiercely.

As you drifted to sleep, lips parted, your cheeks flushed, Jungkook brushed away a few strands of hair falling on your face, his eyes dilating with love.

His heart was full.

You were his everything.

His safe haven

And in that quiet moment with you safe and sound in his arms, he knew he’d never need anything more in his life.

Because he had the whole world right here in his arms.

────

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[quantummindclassicalheart]

@runawaymarbles I'm adding my cover to the pile.

I know you wanted me away But I am called to be the first Pope from the USA I heard that there's a special place where God talks directly to me every time I pray

I'm having holy dreams, of ruling the Holy See Hear Santa Monica, her son is calling me Won't make the bishops proud, the USCCB Will see their bro in Christ, I know they're gonna scream

"God, what will you do? You once were our boy, then you went to Peru," oh Fathers I'm on the balcony In my vestments, they elected me as the