#which is at the same time really cool and really sad

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #50 - Roundie]

"When Jungkook accidentally gives himself a bowl cut."

Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff

Warnings: just Kookie being the cutest and roundest, she teases him for messing up his haircut, and he playfully bites her cheek for it, they're so in love, snuggles and kisses hihi

Wordcount: 1.3k

a/n: i don't have to mention what i was inspired by LIKE he is so cute you have no idea i love him so much it's actually insane :( this is also something that ogc!googie would do so i wanted to be self-indulgent and write it ihihiih <3 have fun besties 🧡

“No!” 

You heard your husband exclaim this one small word around twenty minutes ago and haven't heard a word from him since. Only the blow dryer, which has been running the last few minutes, can be heard.

You and Jungkook are on a romantic holiday in Japan because the land is especially nice this time around to explore by motorbike. You are currently staying in an Airbnb somewhere in the Japanese mountains. The architecture and furniture is traditional with a hint of modern and the house offers a small private spa area. You and Jungkook have already enjoyed it earlier today, but decided to call it quits for now. You currently find yourself on the sofa in your pyjamas, relaxing with a good book and a cup of tea, while your husband locked himself up in the bathroom. 

Except for his very enthusiastic and shocked “No!” you haven’t heard from him. That changes however right this instant when the blow dryer stops and the door unlocks. 

“Baby?” 

“Yes, Kook?”

You can’t see him yet, talking louder to make up for the distance. Judging from his voice coming closer, he is walking to you. 

“So, remember how I told you that my hair is getting too long?” 

You set down your book.

“What did you do?” 

“Okay so, hah, funny story. So okay, you know how we met when we were both nineteen, yeah?” 

“Yes?” 

“Okay cool and I looked really sexy and handsome and mature?” 

“Thinking back, you still looked very boyish back then, but I guess yeah you did. Why? What did you do?” 

“Did you ever wonder what I looked like when I was fifteen?” 

“Jeon Jungkook stop the riddles, what did you do?”

He crosses the corner, appearing in your vision. You instantly crack up, coughing out laughter and pointing your finger at him. He gave himself the roundest and cutest bowl cut ever, looking like a teen with it. 

“What did you do? Baby, oh my god”, you laugh loudly.

“I cut the bangs too short. I tried to save them by cutting the sides, but then I had to match the back too and I gave myself a bowl cut.”

“You look so adorable, I can’t believe it”, you say, stumbling to your feet so you can run to him and touch his hair, “you have the roundest head ever. You’re basically a circle.”

“I’m not a circle. Baby”, he whines and pouts.

You snicker, fluffing up his sides. They instantly fall back into their natural bowl cut state.

“I can’t believe it, you turned yourself into a boba ball. God, look at you. It’s like you aged backwards.”

“It’s the same stupid hairstyle I had in middle school. Baby, please tell me I’m handsome, I’m a sad doofus right now.”

“You’re the most handsome circle ever.”

He nudges you gently, furrowing his brows.

“Shut up, you’re not helping.”

You cackle, now fumbling with his bangs. 

“Of course you’re handsome, my sweetie. I’ve never seen you with your hair like this before, I love it a lot”, you say and tug on his bangs softly. They instantly bounce back into their bowl cut state, reflecting the lights from just how shiny and round his hair is. You snicker, “god it’s so cute. You’re adorable.”

“I'm neither cute nor adorable. I’m manly and sexy. Urgh, I ruined myself.” He whines and drops his head on your Shoulder. “I'll accept it if you divorce me now.”

“Divorce-ha!” You laugh loudly, giving his butt a playful spank, “you dramatic baby, you. I already told you that I love it. You’re very handsome and of course, very manly and sexy.”

He lifts his head, giving you a small grin. 

“But…also very cute and adorable.”

He furrows his brows, opening his mouth.

You instantly silence him, “which is a good thing because it means I wanna cuddle you even more often.”

“Wait. This is a good thing”, he says, making you chuckle.

“It is. Gosh you, let me take a picture. You’re so adorable.” 

“If you must.”

Despite his initial complaints, Jungkook ends up posing with pouted lips and his hand throwing up a peace sign. It’s his signature pose he does in pictures and he looks very adorable tonight. You giggle at the picture, putting it as your lock screen. You show it to him.

“Look, now when someone asks me about you, I can tell them I’m married to a roundie.” 

“You”, Jungkook points his finger at you. “Stop it.” 

You cackle. 

His features soften, a warm smile washes over his face. He gives up with a fond scoff and a little chuckle, closing the distance by grabbing your waist and pulling you snug against him. You and he sway from side to side, looking deeply into each other’s eyes. You have your arms hooked behind his head.

“You’re lucky that you’re so cute, otherwise I would have to bite your cheeks for your annoying antics”, he says.

“Mhm bite my cheeks you say? Ohoho mister what a thread, especially coming from a life sized choco ball such as yourself.”

“Yah”, he complains and gives your buttocks a squeeze. 

“Sorry, sorry last one I promise. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself”, you snicker, rubbing his neck in apology. 

Jungkook chuckles, rubbing his hands over your buttocks innocently. 

“It’s insane how good it fits you. Up close, you can really tell that you fucked it up, but it looks so good on you that it’s not even bad that you fucked it up.” 

“Is it really bad?”

“No, not at all. Your bangs are a little choppy, but it’s cute. Very handsome. Gosh”, you squish his cheeks, “your eyes look even prettier with this hair. It’s like they’re supporting each other’s roundieness. You’re seriously so handsome.” 

Jungkook smiles shyly, “thanks, heh. Roundieness isn’t even a word by the way.”

“It is now.” 

Jungkook simply furrows his brows and goes in for the attack. He bites your cheek. Gently of course. 

“Yah”, you step back, wiping the saliva from your skin. 

“I warned you and you wouldn’t listen. Consequences of your own actions, missy.”

“Don’t talk to me about consequences of my own actions, Mister Accidental Bowl Cut Which Aged Him Back Decades.”

Jungkook laughs and hugs your waist. You chuckle.

“Come on you, let’s go to bed and cuddle.”

“Yay cuddles. I swear today drained me. I almost fell asleep in the hot spring.” 

“Baby, you fell asleep. I had to hold your head so you wouldn’t accidentally drown.”

“I guess I did. I couldn’t help it. It was warm and cozy. I felt very relaxed.”

You and he get under the same blanket. He lies down on his side, you face him. His bangs fall to one side, now looking like those typical two thousand tens bangs every teenage boy had back then. 

You play with them, eyes spilling over with love.

“If I had met you back then, I so would have had a crush on you.”

“Really?”

“Mhm totally. You would have been my type. You are my type, but you get what I mean.”

“I do, yeah.” He smiles and reaches out to play with your hair. “You would have been my type too. Your mom showed me pictures of you when you were a teen and I would have had such a crush on you back then.”

“Oh god”, you chuckle, “I was such a mess though. Did she show you the pic of my clip in leopard print hair strands I rocked with black eyeliner?” 

“Of course she did. You totally rocked them.”

“No I didn't, I looked ridiculous.”

“At least you didn’t look like a circle.”

You laugh, “mhm maybe, but you’re the most handsome circle I have ever seen”, you say, pushing him to his back and climbing on his lap.

Jungkook holds your hips instantly, purring his words as he gazes at your lips.

“Yeah? I’m a handsome circle?”

“Mhhm the most handsome.”

“Hah, come and kiss me, baby.”

You smile, he smiles, sharing a breathy chuckle and little moan with you.

“Kiss me, please.”

“Fuck Kook, I can’t get enough of you”, you say and pull him into a deep kiss. 

[onejellyfishplease]

I can't believe I haven't asked yet, but may I join the Mosquitello cult? (Also is it ok to send this many asks?)

You??? In the Mosquitello cult???

Please!! you practically made the thing!

i mean,,, look at this:

That's your name up there is it not? the catalyst for the first utterance of the cults name?

Forget just 'joining the cult', you're a High Priestess now!

Boom. it's done.

This is you now

Introducing the High Priestess of the Cult of Mosquitello! Lamps!!!

you have the glowy-est necklace short of Mosquitello himself! (id say you found a pretty good lamp)

[starry-bi-sky]

Names, Marbles, and Fae-vors - More Lore on my Changeling Danny Au

In my last post I talked about the Infinite Realms and the three different planes existing inside it - the Long Far, Home to the Ancients and Celestial Beings. The Fey Wilds, Home of the Fey and other such Mythological Constructs. And the Ghost Zone, Home to the Mortal Spirits. - as well as three of the different ways beings inside the Infinite Realms can travel between planes; the Lake Portals, the Cave Tunnels, and the Starflare Currents. The Lake Portals and the Cave Tunnels don't have an official term for them yet, but I'll come up with something :).

In this post we'll be talking about some of the abilities of the fey! Specifically the things they're most popularly known for: their name stealing and etiquette thing.

For those who are not as well-versed in Fey Lore, or need a refresher, (and because I just want to yap infodump), one of the first rules you learn when interacting with the Fey is that you never, ever, say "thank you" or "I'm sorry" to them! Which is crazy, because they're really big on etiquette and being polite to each other, which is why one of their epithets is "the Good Neighbor/s". So why should you not say two phrases most commonly used when being polite to someone?

There are two big reasons for this, and the reason I'll be focusing on for this au is because, to the Fey, saying "Thank You" is acknowledgement of a debt that's owed to them. It turns the action or gift into something transactional, and results in a verbal contract that the receiver must then repay later down the line -- and whatever point in time, and with whatever the Fey they are indebted to sees fit. Whether that be food, valuables, or your firstborn child.

The other big reason is because some Fey just think it's rude, and view "thank you" as something that dilutes their act of kindness, and/or implies that they are there to serve you. One of the best summarizations I've seen for fey is that they're bros; they're doing this because they think you're friends -- or something similar to the sort. It's deeply insulting to do all these nice things for a friend, only for that friend to reveal that they don't view you the same way at all.

It's for similar reasons that you also shouldn't say, "I'm sorry" either, except instead of repaying a gift, you are now making reparations for a wrong you have done. A misdeed must be repaid in full, now how are you going to make it up to them? And also because well, I imagine that if saying "thank you" is seen as rude, "I'm sorry" is the exact same way because it dilutes the act.

If you're in a situation where you must say "thank you" or "i'm sorry" there are ways to get around it. "I'm grateful", "you're too kind", "I apologize", or "I feel regret" are just some examples I saw used.

NOW! How is this used in my Changeling AU? The Fey work by these same rules, the only difference is that I've added a physical aspect to it! If Fey are capable of stealing the abstract and turning the incorporeal corporeal, then lets run with it!

"Thank Yous" and "I'm Sorrys" are debts, and Fey can magically bound you into a verbal contract with that alone. However, it's not uncommon -- and actually pretty standard -- for Fey to weave the excess magic of that debt into something physical. They create these delicate-looking, iridescent threads that they then weave into their hair for decoration. And in some areas of the Fey Wilds, use it as a way to show off wealth and/or their own wit.

Ever heard of Fairy Hair? Yeah, same concept.

Debt Threads, as I am temporarily calling them, are thin and airy, and not that much thicker than gossamer. Since it's a debt that is intended to eventually be paid back, it's not practical -- nor is it seen as such -- to use the threads for anything more than temporary cosmetics. As a result, they're usually used for decorating the hair, but some crafty fey use their threads to decorate other appendages, or as form of makeup. Despite their dainty appearance, the threads are actually very sturdy and can only be unweaved by the Fey that created it.

You can, technically, take back your debt thread. However, the threads are made using excess magic of the debt, and not made of the magic of the debt itself, which is why it's so thin and airy. So if you do manage to get it, congrats! All you've got is some pretty string and a pissed off feyrie whose hair you probably just yanked out.

Danny's managed to accrue a few "debts" before he realizes he's a fey, mostly from his friends and sister -- although there are a few from his parents, and some from the other student body from when he was unknowingly and instinctually doing Fey Bullshit. As a result, he starts forcing Sam and Tucker and Jazz to stop thanking him for things, and typically makes them repay him through petty, menial stuff. Like getting him food, or buying him a small but relatively inexpensive trinket he's been eyeing for a while. Never usually anything super important - it's his own way of apologizing for indebting them to him in the first place.

As for his parents... well, he'll hold onto those debts for now. Having a way to magically get them off his back with no questions asked is a boon he's pretty willing to keep close to his chest, and no amount of persuasion will convince him otherwise. Sorry Jazz, Fey side wins out on this one. As for some of the students he's got, Danny manages to psych himself up and release some of them from their contracts without repayment -- even if it makes his bones itch.

AND NOW THE NAMES! You never give a Fey your name because they say everything literally. "Can I have your name?" is a literal question -- they are asking for your name, and thus ownership over you. The other thing is that Names have power, if a fey knows your Full Name they can make you do things for them -- however it goes both ways so you could do the same thing if you learn a Fey's name.

Knowing a Name and owning a Name are two different things, with owning a Name being, naturally, more dangerous as you are basically submitting yourself to permanent indentured servitude, among other things. Knowing a Name can be risky because it results in being more susceptible to fey charms, enchantments, and requests.

But! I digress! Just like how Thank Yous and I'm Sorrys can be turned into a physical object, so can Names! This is not obligatory, nor is it recommended to do often because unlike debt threads, these can be taken back, but it happens!

Names can be trapped in these little, colorful glass-like orbs -- marbles, they're marbles/pearls. They can be trapped in what are basically magic marbles, and just like debt threads, be used for decoration. They're more versatile though, and are used for different things since unlike debt threads, the pearls are meant to be permanent! They make beautiful jewelry, since the pearls come in various different colors depending on the person it once belonged to, and the intent behind its creation.

The marbles have a hard outer shell, with the cores having a fluid, shimmery appearance. Look up liquid core dice, and Name Marbles have a similar appearance, just more... ethereal, with different shades of the same color swirling inside. Not two pearls look the same, and even ones that have similar colors or appearances have subtle differences in them that are imperceptible to the mortal eye. Some pearls look like the deepest trenches of the ocean, blacks and dark blues swirling around each other as flecks of bioluminescence float inside. While others look like a lilac winter sunset, with hand-held purples bleeding into pink and gold.

Convincing Danny to return the Names he's gotten is harder than convincing him to absolve the debts. It takes a lot more psyching up on his part to actually do it, and more verbal coaxing and negotiating on his friends' part. Because on an instinctual fey level, those names are rightfully his. For all intents and purposes, he was given those names freely and without reservation, and so to be told that he has to return what were essentially gifts to him is... deeply distressing.

Lots of cognitive dissonance there. His human-raised brain and morals know why he needs to give them back, and he feels bad for owning them. But his new changeling-baby fey-brain is deeply upset at the prospect, and is a liittle bit stronger than the once-human part of him. He rapidly becomes overwhelmed when trying to convince himself to return the Names. He does, eventually, end up doing it, but he's unwillingly upset the whole time.

[hello-god-its-me-sara]

I think Peter’s a camera nerd, I like when he’s actually into photography and not just taking selfies for the bugle

I like the idea of Harry being a little shit and hiring Peter for OsCorp press shoots and other stuff like that

I like the idea that Peter has a standard Nikon or Cannon (or both) and that the dork saves up for lenses and that Harry will buy him camera stuff as gifts

I like it when he has an Instagram just for his pictures bc of course he does

I like the idea that he just loves taking pictures of everything and Harry loves it and thinks it’s adorable that Peter has a million picture of park squirrels and wood stumps because they’re just so interesting to photograph Harry

And he loves his DCLRs but he’s also a pretentious film nerd

Just

✨Peter and cameras✨

[hazelcephalopod]

Tbh. I am itching for a Circle of the Crimson Mirror trailer drop.

[obnoxiousarcade]

im thinking again

[aria0fgold]

I thiiink I processed a bit of my thoughts bout OFF but like, my mind was blown so there isn't much in it. One thing bout it though is that I really love the music in this game, like I be jamming to the battle music it sound so cool and catchy and it's actually stuck in my head. I also love the puzzles in the game, it's not too hard and it's also so nice to do! (I say that but I brute forced at least 2 puzzles. The puzzles right before Zone 1 and Zone 2's bosses... Trial and error even though the key to the puzzle was Right in the area but lazy in I don't wanna go back to look).

Also I love how, even if the game doesn't seem like much, it was hella enjoyable for me, must be cuz of the music. Like, I'd walk around so much finding a bunch of stuff and then battles happen with some banger music and it honestly felt like I just played that game for like a hour even though it was way more than that. Like, I really really enjoyed it.

For the story of the game... I have no idea what story is supposed to be there. But throughout it, whenever the Batter purifies a zone I start doubting if it's the right thing cuz everything looks so... lifeless... Like yeah sure, the spectres are also pretty bad and killing the poor Elsens, also doesn't help how Dedan makes the poor guys so stressed too but I was thinking if there was at least another way than just purifying everything but I'm stuck with the Batter. By the end the Judge saying that I'm the puppeteer but honestly I felt like more of the puppet for some reason.

I'm stuck with the Batter my guy, I won't proceed at all unless I do things that aligns with the Batter's mission. And in either endings, it's all bad in a way that, what's done is done. Choosing the Judge doesn't reverse anything, the world is completely lifeless and "purified," so in the end it's better to just keep being with the Batter and finish what we started. Which is pretty cool cuz I kept wondering Why was the game called OFF and then seeing the Batter ending and I'm like: OOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH (it was the first thing that blew my mind).

Like, I feel like this game's story got A Lot of stuff for me to know (Time to read through what everyone's theories are. I'm not really good with those so I always enjoy reading everyone else's). Like, the thing that I kiiinda get is that there's a lonely child who doesn't like his dad and prefers his mom but the mom doesn't even visit him much. He made 3 friends which he turned into guardians of the zones, and a mom regarded as the Queen. And then there's Batter which I feel like was based off of Boxxer in that comic that the kid was given to by his dad. And like, gestures vaguely, yeah, it's neat :D (my train of thought broke I don't remember what I was going with that).

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"I think that's more than enough raspberries for me!" Dorian laughed, quite liking this solution-the raspberry in the center would make for a pleasant surprise when the cake was sliced into, and the blueberry frosting, a lovely pale blue shade, made for a lovely, picture-perfect cake, with the blueberry and raspberry garnishes topping them a welcome addition.

(What a shame they wouldn't actually get to eat any of it!)

"But is it enough blueberry for you, my dear?" he asked her teasingly, enjoying the game they'd made of this, bantering back and forth with one another, their banter (however platonic it was at heart) seeming much more romantic to those around them-they must've looked like the sweetest pair of lovebirds in all of New Orleans to everyone (oh, if only they knew)!

He had to say, Emily was an excellent actress in her own right; she made a great show of appearing as the happiest bride in all the South, a performance everyone was falling for, hook, line, and sinker! He couldn't have asked for a better co-star in this endeavor, his smile genuine as he made a note to compliment her on her performance later...

[buckleydiazmp4]

it's tag venting time

[szczylpierdolony]

wish i had the type of depression where you party and do drugs and look sad in cinematic settings rather than the one where i never leave the house barely shower and lose any remnants of a personality ive left

[clonewarsahsoka]

OH YEAH HERES THE STUFF I GOT ON THE WEEKEND (plus a closer pic to try and deal with the glare)

[inmirova]

feels like the universe (trans people I follow on tumblr dot com) is telling me I should get into tf2 again to spite my ex who tried to convince me playing it meant I was apparently cool with white supremacy somehow

[dystopyx-blog]

Stuck in TWST without meds

and also they're yandere or something

@shironakuronatasa here you go pookie <3

Because everyone is different, I'm gonna be focusing on the meds I take and the things I experience! If you're inspired to write one of your own based on your types of meds, go for it! I'd love to see others' takes on this :3

I'm still writing in 2nd person, but you/mc is heavily based off of me!

(And if you still want a personalized one but don't want to write it, my commissions are open/hj)

Tw for one mention of suicidal ideation.

Imagine...

You don't quite have a clusterfuck of things going on in your head, but sometimes it can feel like it. Autism, Anxiety, depression, and ADD. Thankfully, you have access to medication, and they work well for you.

Although you can't keep the downward spiraling from the depression and anxiety away completely, it is far more manageable with your medication. You've found that when off them, you are far more prone to completely fall apart at even the slightest inconvenience. It feels like constant stormy waters, with stormclouds that only make the waves worse. But when on them, the storm disappears. Yes, the waves still get rocky and tip your boat from side to side, but you're emotionally stable enough to handle them.

Then the meds for your ADD. With them you have the razor sharp focus to not only take care of projects and work, but also to simply take care of yourself. When off of those, even simple tasks like taking out the trash can take hours, especially since you so easily forget steps, and will stop the chore in the middle, genuinely thinking it's complete.

But you have your meds, so you manage just fine.

Until you're sucked into Twisted Wonderland.

First of all, even if you had already taken the meds for anxiety/depression, there's not much they could do in the face of being transported and consequently trapped in a different dimension. But they do still help, and instead of bawling, you manage to keep a cool (enough) head and get yourself settled into Ramshackle.

But they don't last you long. They had built up in your system enough to last you a few days, but time and circumstances were not on your side.

Even though Grim is by no means an emotional support pet, and is by all means a little shit, he manages to push his pride aside when he can tell you really need it.

Especially the days where you wonder if death is what will bring you back home...

Grim will act as if he helps you for his own purposes, but he is genuinely there for you.

The others, however...

First of all, quite a few of them don't completely understand... you're extra sad and spacey, but you had some kind of magic to help with it back home, but you don't have them here, and without them you get... sad and spacey?

Riddle probably sees it as some pathetic excuse. It's not until after his overblot that his tune completely changes and he is giving you all the special treatment. Even if you mess up on purpose, even if it's something that really frustrates him, he'll justify it as you not knowing any better. Which is patronizing as hell.

Ace will use it to his advantage. Getting into trouble and having you take the brunt. And you play along with it, because, again, Riddle is treating you like an incompetent child, so you are all for raising Cain with Ace. What Ace really loves about this, though, is that it makes you more willing to hang out with him, and more likely to dislike Riddle.

I imagine Deuce has something going as well, though I don't quite know what, and neither does he. But he finds a kindred spirit in you. Study sessions with him are a MUST, and you share your different study and coping tactics, while he stares at your lovely face.

Trey relishes in caring for you. If you're having any kind of sudden increase in stress or sorrow, he is fucking there. He will scoop you up and take you to the kitchen and treat you with his home baked goodies right then and there. Same with your academics, if you need help with academics, it's to the kitchen for tutoring. And as bad as it is, he finds himself wishing you'd give in and lean on him completely.

Leona will also be there for you in depressive episodes. He sees how you always go to Grim when your upset, notices the little things that Grimm does that helps, and starts subtly using them whenever you're upset. Not even just if it's depression/anxiety related, if you're upset with him specifically he'll start purring in that low register that has your heart slowing. He'll rest his body on your chest as a weighted blanket. He'll let you pet him and comb through his hair. All until all you associate Leona with is safety and comfort–as you should from a mate.

Ruggie is SUCH a little meanie at first! Specifically regarding your ADD. Once he sees how much it genuinely upsets you, though, he'll back off. He does have a manipulative streak, though, and will use your anxiety against you. Any way he can get you to distrust others and seek him out is a good way.

Jack is one who does not fuckin understand at first, but once he does, he's supportive. He asks if there's anyway he can help and you offhandedly tell him about emotional support dogs, and he is locked on. He's embarrassed by it at first, of course, but he can tell how safe it makes you feel, and like Leona he is completely fucking for that. Though he won't just be emotional support, no, he'll be the guard dog chasing away anything that could possibly trigger you.

School is very difficult for you without your ADD meds. You can manage, but it is far more stressful and difficult than it needs to be. So, of course, you have those generously offering to help you–specifically Azul, who's more than willing to help... at a price, of course.

Floyd really likes when you daze off in class... When you're staring blankly, mind thinking about so many things except whatever the professor is droning on about. The way your eyes glaze over, the way you're so focused on whatever the fuck is going on in your head, the way your lips part ever so slightly... All your idle habits are endlessly entrancing to him. And, goes without saying, every single time you're especially depressed, he offers a good squeeze session.

Jade, the manipulative bastard, will purposely set you up for failure so that you feel like you need to go to him for help. Because lord knows Azul will make you pay for it, but not your good friend Jade. Plus, if you ever mention how hiking can help with mood, lord save your soul...

Jamil is such a DICK. He will be degrading you at every second, completely taking over whatever it is you try to do. Even if it has nothing to do with him. God, you remind him of Kalim, but at least you don't have the nerve to be so fucking happy all the time. A sick part of him likes when you're sad. You're less annoying when you're depressed, specifically, without little energy or motivation to do or be anything else. He'd happily take care of you then. He'll do whatever you need done. You'd probably do it wrong anyway.

Kalim feels so fucking seen and understood. He honestly felt like some kind of freak for so much of his life, but you... you're kinda like him! A lot sadder though. Your very existence brightens his life, so he's made it his mission to brighten yours. He also really can't stand it when you're with others. It's so obvious you two are meant for each other! He views your shared ADD symptoms as evidence of soulmateship.

Vil is another case of not fully understanding. You're making excuses. Until he takes it a bit too far, pushes even more than what you can handle, and you fully break down in front of him. You're so completely and utterly vulnerable in that moment. He doesn't know if it's a very dedicated manipulation tactic to get out of his nitpicking, but... he becomes a little more sympathetic with you. Vil recognizes that, for whatever reason, you do in fact seem to struggle more with certain things. And yet, despite that, you still try. You continue push yourself, even if what youre pushing towards is, by other people's standards, the norm/mediocrity/minimum. And in you he starts to see a bit of himself. Especially since, let's face it, with depression, anxiety, and add, it is very likely you relate more to Vil than you do Niege. He helps you, and in turn you help him, though you don't even realize it. Helping you be happier with yourself helps him be happy with himself. And he'll fucking slaughter anyone who takes you away from him.

Rook, like Vil, is easily able to recognize how much you not only struggle, but how much you try. And he finds that incredibly beautiful. Needless to say, he is often watching you. Everything you do is enchanting. He memorizes every. single. stim. and habit. Sometimes when you get frustrated, he just wants to scoop you up in his arms and shower you in kisses, but then you'd realize he broke into your room...

Epel will see how much you get pushed around, and takes it upon himself to defend you. He also sees a bit of himself in you. Sometimes he purposely waits around you, and at the first sign of trouble, he'll attack.

Sometimes you just get too fucking overstimulated and you need a break. And in those times, you've found Idia to be the best person to go to. You both started off pretty distant. You approached him, upset, and asked for a quiet place. You put in headphones and just laid down right there. The two of you just sat in silence, with headphones in, doing your own things, blocking out the world. And, oh, how Idia came to crave those moments. He began to depend on you for comfort, ans hoping that you would similarly come to depend on him. You're different from those other normies, you're the only one who gets him so please just stay with him! He will start to modify his room to be the perfect sensory room, the only place in the school you can go to fully regulate yourself. He starts going out with you, acting as if you're really helping him step out of his shell, when really he just wants to spend more time with you, and will continue to shy away from everyone else and hide behind you. This man desperately needs you to need him as desperately as he needs you.

You are so. Fucking. Cute. Malleus finds your every single quirk so fucking attractive. He doesnt like, however, seeing you so upset. So sad. And the kind of sad where he is helpless to help you. He also really doesn't like it when you're upset at yourself. Don't you realize you're perfect? And who cares if you're not good at any of the school stuff? Malleus doesn't. You don't need any of those skills anyway, with Malleus Draconia here to always take care of you.

if you want the rest of diasomnia or the secret character I subtly didn't include lmk

part two out now!!

[theoldsports]

SHITHEAD.

Art Donaldson x Reader.

warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.

can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.

The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.

See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.

Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.

They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.

It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.

Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.

And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.

At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:

1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.

This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.

2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.

Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.

3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.

Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.

Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.

Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.

Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.

Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.

Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.

This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.

Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

Art said:

“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”

He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.

Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.

Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.

Jackass.

[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.

She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.

Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.

Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.

[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.

“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.

“She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.

“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.

Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“

“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“

“She writes for—“

“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”

Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.

“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“

“Shithead bastard?”

“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.

“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”

“And say what!”

“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”

It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.

She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.

“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.

[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.

There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.

Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.

Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.

She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.

Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.

“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.

“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.

“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”

Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“

“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”

Art was silent.

[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”

“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.

“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”

Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.

Here is a frustrating thing about Art.

He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.

“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”

Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.

Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.

He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.

Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.

He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.

Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.

“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”

Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”

This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.

“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.

[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.

So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.

They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.

His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.

Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”

“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”

With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.

That was big trouble, huh?

“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.

[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.

[starkwlkr]

was i such a fool? | mark webber

part 1 part 3

ENGLAND

You felt embarrassed. You didn’t know who was the person who spread the confirmed rumor around the paddock, but you knew that being in the paddock was the last thing you wanted to do.

Your daughter, Grace, had been reading in her room while you were in your home office replying to some emails. Zak had let you get some time off, which you were hesitant to take at first but you knew how chaotic it was going to get in the paddock if you were present.

“Mommy!” Grace called for you from her room.

“What is it, my love?” You asked, closing your laptop as you stood up and walked to her room. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, i finished my book. Can we go to the bookstore and get more?” Grace asked.

“Of course we can, baby.” You replied. As you were about to leave to go back to your office, Grace spoke once again.

“Can I go to a race?”

Grace had never attended a race before. She knew what your job was and why it required you to travel so much, but she never once attended a race. It surprised you that she even thought about it.

“A race . . .” You sighed. “You really want to go to a race?”

Grace nodded. “I want to see the fast cars.”

You thought about it for a second. It would be nice for Grace to see a race after years of only seeing it on tv. But then again only several people knew that she existed and you liked it that way.

“I’ll think about it.”

TIME SKIP TO ABU DHABI 2023

MCLAREN GARAGE

Grace watched as several men dressed in orange with helmets on sat in their chairs. She was introduced to the pit crew by you. Everyone on the team was more than happy to meet her. She was extremely excited to be able to watch her first race in person.

“I’ll be over there watching the race, okay? Stay here with Lucy.” You told Grace. Lucy was an old friend from school. When you explained that Grace wanted to attend a race, she offered to look after the girl while you worked.

“Okay. I love you.” Grace gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“I love you more, my love.” You replied and hugged her before you left.

From a distance, Mark watched the girl wave goodbye to you. It made him feel like the worst person ever. How could he do that to you? You never deserved it. You were always so supportive of him, comforting him when he needed it and that all changed the second Mark kissed someone else.

He thought about going up to Grace and making small talk, but he knew you wouldn’t like it. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t want to upset you even more. Seeing her, so close yet so far away, brought sadness to the older man’s heart. She had his eyes, his smile, they even shared the same laughter, something you loved when you were dating Mark.

By the end of the race, he had decided to talk to you.

He tried to find you, but it seemed like you knew he wanted to talk so you hid from him. Only it wasn’t like that. Grace wanted to walk on the track so you took her. Lucy was tired so you told her that you would meet her back at the hotel. She held your hand as you and her walked around. It was a perfect moment for you and your daughter.

“Did you enjoy your first race?” You asked.

“Yes! The cars go faster than on the tv, it was so cool!” Grace exclaimed. “Can I go to another race?”

“You’ll have to wait until next year, my love, and you have school. I don’t want you missing a day of school because of a race.” You explained.

“Okay. . .” She sighed. “Who was the man that was in the garage?” She suddenly asked.

“There’s a lot of men in there, Grace.”

“He didn’t wear orange like the rest of the team. He had one of these too.” Grace pointed to her paddock pass. “I think Lucy said he used to be a driver.”

You had an idea of who Grace was talking about and you didn’t like it.

When you made it back to the Mclaren garage, you saw that it was almost empty. A few members of the pit crew were cleaning up, but that didn’t catch your attention. It was Mark that was pacing around the garage.

“Mommy, that’s the man I was talking about.” Grace whispered to you.

Mark noticed your presence and stopped pacing. “Hi.” Was all that he said.

“It’s getting late, Mark. You should go back to your hotel room, get some sleep. I know you don’t like early morning flights.” You said to the Australian.

“Hear me out, please. Just this once and I’ll leave you alone. Give me five minutes.” He pleaded. The remaining pit crew took that as a sign to give you privacy so they left.

Grace held onto your hand even tighter. “Who’s that?” She whispered again to you.

“His name is Mark.” You said.

Four words was all it took to break Mark Webber even more. He was just Mark to his daughter and he had to accept that.

“Three minutes and that’s it.” You said.

“I’ll take that.”

@glow-ish @vicurious28 @dannyriccsupremacy @viennakarma @pear-1206 @nathalielovesonedirection @jaydaaasworld @shimmermotorsport @honethatty12 @a-beaverhausen

[hannieehaee]

Imagine workaholic gf!reader of equally workaholic bf!woozi where they both take a few days leave to enjoy each other and book a luxurious honeymoon suite hotel room thinking they will have a lot of sex with their days off but instead end up with cuddling and lazy make out sessions because their exhaustion just swooshes over them owo

18+ / mdi

content: workaholic!woozi x workaholic!reader, afab reader, heavy mentions of smut, making out, very suggestive, etc.

wc: 1262

a/n: i can really picture jihoon dating a fellow workaholic lol anyways thank u for requesting<3

masterlist

"fuck, finally," you sighed in relief, letting yourself fall backwards onto the cool bed in the luxury hotel room jihoon had reserved.

after endless weeks of equally endless work, you finally had a week off, which jihoon had strategically coordinated with his own time off.

the two of you were extremely hard workers – to a fault. when jihoon bad first met you, he worried that maybe his addiction to constant work would eventually drive you away, yet somehow it had continued to keep you right by his side. you preferred that he was a workaholic, you had once told him. there had apparently been a few prior relationships in which your heavy workload had led to irreparable issues. jihoon being equally as busy as you allowed you to work without feeling guilt of leaving your partner behind – jihoon felt the exact same way.

despite the unspoken agreement the two of you had in regards to the dynamic of your relationship, it sometimes still got to you when you'd realize how little time you were able to spend with your boyfriend – once more, jihoon felt the exact same way.

your individual lives were already difficult to navigate, but making time for each other was even more complicated. your exhaustion was a whole different issue. working as much as the two of you did, it was understandable that you'd spend the lulls in your schedule resting as much as you could rather than with each other. it was a sad truth, but still remained a truth.

it wasn't as if you spent no time together, though. you'd always either see each other in the mornings (either through call or in person – depending on whether jihoon was in the country at the time or not) or at night, always making sure to love on one another as a reminder of the thriving affection in your relationship. you'd also dedicate one night per week to have a stay-at-home date night. everything was perfectly tailored to your relationship, and the two of you were more than happy with it.

these past few weeks had been the issue. as jihoon had a comeback and you had an important project at work, it was virtually impossible for you to see each other as of late. it got to you in all the worst ways, making you moody, irritable, tired, and even sexually frustrated. not only were you physically exhausted of the constant work, but you had been deprived of your daily dosage of jihoon. you had not slept together in weeks, nor had you even had a meal with each other. cuddling? completely out of the question with the insanely packed schedule you'd been having.

it all went like this for the both of you for a few weeks, up until everything managed to reach a standstill. you had a few days off, and jihoon had the ability to move some things around to match your time off. without so much as one word from you, jihoon had decided it was the perfect time to whisk you away on a private getaway at some luxury hotel of your choice.

jihoon wasnt really one to go out much, unbeknownst to you, but jihoon had been feeling extremely pent up from the last moment he got to have you all to himself. the short glimpses of you he managed to catch throughout the busy weeks were the only thing that had kept him going. the singular thought of the next time he'd he'd get to have you was the only thing occupying his mind. renting out a room for the week was the most obvious of choices to jihoon. he would finally get to explore the sheets with you.

upon arriving to the hotel, jihoon chuckled at how pleased you seemed with the place, immediately letting yourself loose on the bed and sighing in contentment. putting down the suitcases, jihoon joined you soon after, still fully clothed as he laid next to you, staring up at the ceiling.

"are you as tired as i am?", you asked him.

he hummed in affirmation, "yeah. what do you wanna do first?"

the unspoken agreement to utilize the week on sex had filled up the room before you had even arrived, so it was obvious what he was referring to.

"i'll take a quick bath first, okay, baby?", you said as you began to get up, stretching your muscles in the process.

"sure, baby. i'll head down to the gym for a bit to unwind then. i'll see you in about an hour, then?"

with a sweet peck, you bid your boyfriend goodbye, giddy to get yourself relaxed and perfumed so your boyfriend could help you destress under the sheets.

~

the bath had been a huge success in terms of getting you relaxed. after an hour lying in the warmest, bubbliest, comfiest water imaginable to man, you felt like a brand new person. accompanied by a lavender-scented bath bomb, a glass of wine and your favorite netflix show playing in the background, you got out of that bath in the best mood you'd been in in weeks.

the one downside was how incredibly relaxed the bath had gotten you. you were so relaxed, you could've fallen victim to endless slumber in that bathtub. as much as you needed jihoon to fuck you to sleep, you weren't sure how well you'd be able to perform if you tried to return the favor.

luckily for you, that would not be an issue.

upon walking back into the room, now donning some comfortable pajamas, you were met with the sight of a fully-asleep jihoon, cocooned between the sheets as he snored softly. the sight had you swooning with affection for the boy. he was the softest, most relaxing thing you had ever seen.

you couldn't help yourself in making your way to him, somehow maneuvering yourself into his arms and under the sheets, feeling more relaxed than ever.

before you could even close your eyes, the boy shuffled behind you, mumbling against your ear as he cuddled further into you.

"baby?", he mumbled.

"sorry, baby. did i wake you?"

"hmm, no you're fine. i meant to stay awake for you, but the bed's just so damn comfy," he chuckled breathily, "i took a quick shower downstairs to prepare for, you know, but fuck, i'm just so tired," he whined.

you turned around in his arms, facing him, breaths almost intertwined due to the proximity.

"that's okay, hoonie. 'm so sleepy. maybe ... we could leave it for tomorrow? just sleep in and then we can have some fun tomorrow?" you suggested, pressing a soft peck to his lips.

his arms tightened around your waist, not allowing you to pull back all the way, "only if you kiss me some more," he murmured, eyes stuck to your lips.

"i can agree to that," you giggled, pressing a languid kiss to his lips as he stuck his tongue in your mouth, softly intertwining with your own in a wet kiss.

the rest of the evening was spent softly making out under the warm sheets, legs tangled up together and fully relaxed in each other's arms. sex was the last thing on your mind as you kissed each other every so often, mostly focused on holding onto one another and finding your slumber together. however, this exhaustion did not stop you from waking up the following day, claiming your highs from one another time after time throughout the day, ready to recharge at night and continue the pattern day after day.