Jjk Drabble - Tumblr Posts

dad!guk and fam going to the animal shelter to adopt a dog

thank u for ur request! (disclaimer im sure that most animal shelters have a longer adoption process but this one is quite direct cause it’s a drabble)

Jungwoo’s literally vibrating in the back of the car. He keeps kicking his tiny feet against the seat, sipping idly on the banana milk you had pressed into his hands before he’d climbed into his safety seat. He’s mumbling under his breath, bright doe eyes gazing out the window, excitement palpable in the small space of the car. You sneak a glance at Jeongguk, who’s focused on the road, the sleeves of his grey sweater rolled up. He’s got a glimmer of a smile on his pink lips, ears perked at the sound of his son’s delight.

“Are we there yet?” Jungwoo whines, his impatience building, evident from how he claws at the seat.

“Not yet, bubs.” Jeongguk throws you a look, the faint smile on his lips spreading across his features, making his eyes crinkle with fondness. You grin broadly back at him, heart warm in your chest.

“Have you finished your milk?” You ask, trying to briefly distract him. Jungwoo shakes his head, taking a sip from the bottle, his soft dark curls swaying with the movement. He’s due for a haircut but ever since Jeongguk grew his hair out, Jungwoo has flat out refused any scissors near his scalp, insisting he wants his hair just like his dads. The curls do look pretty sitting on his head, although they’re about to start obscuring his vision. You might have to convince him to trim it - if he allowed you to do even that. But there is something oddly comforting about watching Jungwoo quiet and calm while his dad rubs jojoba oil on his scalp every night. It was a new bond for them, the long hair movement and it makes you happy to see them together like that. If he doesn’t want a trim, maybe you’ll just push it back into a ponytail instead.

The universe must be acting in his favour because traffic virtually disappears and you cruise down the streets easily, the Sunday afternoon sun splaying across your skin through the windows. Jungwoo stays quiet, apart from the occasional mumble and the soft humming along to the nursery rhymes playing on the speakers. You’re partially zoning out - one can only listen to Humpty Dumpty a number of times - but Jeongguk draws you right back into reality, rambling about a project he was doing for work. You listen with intent, the back of your mind registering how domestic this all is as you watch Jeongguk twist the steering wheel, the sound of your son humming in the background melting in the with his father's voice wrapping tenderly around your heart.

“Mommmm! Are we there yet?” Jungwoo whines interrupts, tapping his milk bottle on the window screen. Jeongguk glances at you and you read his mind through his honey eyes. 

“Patience, love” You reply, twisting around to face him. “And stop hitting the window, big boys wait patiently. Are you not a big boy?” The berate is gentle but direct enough that Jungwoo drops the behaviour, dumping the bottle in the hand you’ve extended out to him. 

“Yes,” He mumbles, staring at you with a long face. It had been one of the terms he’d agreed too when he’d asked for a dog. Jungwoo was a kind, caring boy but he often acted impishly if he didn’t get his way or wanted immediate attention. It was a behaviour you were trying to wean out of him and the whole ‘big boy’ rhetoric seemed to be working in your favour. His admiration for his father and older cousins were the reason for that. 

“That’s right bubs you’re a big boy,” Jeongguk tacks on, hearing the fall in his son’s tone. “And look, we’re nearly there!” He’s right, the shelter is round the corner. There’s an immediate pick up in the atmosphere and you look up from tucking the bottle away to find him bouncing in the backseat, his dip in mood forgotten instantly.

He’s practically bounding out of the car when you finally get his belt unbuckled. It’s only by the quick reflex of his father’s hands that he’s stopped from planting face first into the ground. Jungwoo remains unfazed, shaking it off ratherly quickly as he lopes his fingers into his fathers. 

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s gooo!” And then he’s off, dragging Jeongguk in tow who swiftly tosses you the cars keys. You don’t berate him, understanding that his excitement was coming from a pure joyous place this time. And he’s been waiting for this moment ever since he brought up the topic of a dog several months ago. It’s a surprise to you that’s he’s not levitating straight into the building.

You join the two of them a moment later, car locked in the parking lot and your bag tucked under your arm, only to find Jeongguk standing at the counter, Jungwoo painfully absent. 

“Where is he?” You ask, giving the lady behind the counter a kind smile and a passing greeting.

“Down somewhere there. He heard dogs and took off.” Jeongguk shrugs like it can’t be helped.

“You can take a look around with him before you decide - if you’re here to adopt,” She offers. 

“Thank you, we’ll do that,” You respond, turning quickly when you here a little happy shriek echoing from down the hall. You feet carry you there fast, passing rows of dogs in cages and a handful of people tending to a litter of puppies. Some of the dogs barely glance at you but others react quickly, barking up a storm as your rubber soles squeak against the tile floor. “Jungwoo?” You call out, “Where are you?”

“Here!” Your eyes land on him a moment later, butt flat on the floor as he stares at a terrified dog through the wires. It’s crouched at the end of the cage, neatly curled up as it eyes your son suspiciously. It’s a stark contrast to the heart eyes Jungwoo is giving the poor animal. 

“You’re scaring it,” Jeongguk mumbles, sliding past you to kneel beside him. His hands slip into his hair, a reflex at this point. “Give the animal some space, bubs.”

“Okay,” Jungwoo says, immediately backing away. But he doesn’t stand up, just slides his butt along the floor. “Are you okay now?” He asks the dog, leaning his small neck as far as it can go.

The dog blinks at him instead. 

“Oh,” Says one of the employees you'd passed. You weren’t aware she’s followed you, but you’re immediately glad for her help. “That’s Petunia. She tends to be quite shy and I think you’re enthusiasm is scaring her, dear.” The lady brushes past you

“I didn’t mean to scare her,” Jungwoo mumbles, staring at the lady with doleful eyes. 

“I know. She’s just a tad nervous but if you speak to her softly and pet her, she’ll like you.” She gives Jungwoo a bright smile while he obediently nods his head.

“Okay.” It’s a whisper this time, Jungwoo clearly heeding her advice. You bite back the smile on your lips but when you look at Jeongguk it comes right back, tugging the corner of your mouth upwards, your chest light with affection.

The lady’s already fiddling with the lock on her cage. Jungwoo doesn’t jump on the dog like you expect him too when the barrier is taken away. Instead he wants for the lady to coax the animal away from the corner she’s buried herself in. She stares at him for a brief moment, noise sniffing hard and her tail thumping the ground firmly as the lady introduces them. Jungwoo mumbles his name, hand twitching in his lap with the need to touch. When he’s given the go ahead he’s astonishingly gentle, patting her coat with extreme care.

“What’s her breed?” Jeongguk comments, his gaze soft as he watches the way Jungwoo handles her.

“A beagle. They’re rather energetic but they’re good with children. Petunia’s only one-years-old, so you still have the chance to train her. And she’s a bit more quiet than most beagles.” Petunia’s already starting to warm up Jungwoo now, cuddling right into his space, her tail high as she wags it. 

“A beagle for our beagle,” You comment, sparing Jeongguk a look. He laughs softly, rising from the ground.

“Petunia’s perfect but you’ve chosen rather quickly, bubs. Wouldn’t you like to look around?” He questions gently.

“No.” It’s firm, and his hands are gingerly wrapped around her neck, chubby arms defiant.. Petunia’s rather satisfied, lapping lovely at his ear already. “I pick Tutu.”

“Tutu?” You ask, an eyebrow raised.

“Tutu,” He insists, rubbing tenderly at her back. Her tail’s creating warps in the air with how fast she’s wagging it.

“Okay. Tutu’s our dog,” Jeongguk agrees, which is redundant anyway because Jungwoo’s already attached to animal now. Emotionally and physically. 

The lady’s eyes are soft as she eyes the pair, joint on the concrete floor. “If you’d like to start looking at the forms I can help with that,” She offers, snapping the cage closed. “Your son’s quiet decisive.”

Jeongguk makes a funny noise in his throat. “Yeah. You could say that.”

drunk touchy jeongguk coming over to his best friend’s place to crash, only to realise her boobs are soft as hell and he MUST absolutely shove his face into them or else he will die. oc agrees becauses it’s jeongguk. (everyone is pining over each other but no one says anything because fanfic)

You must love Jeongguk a whole damn lot. More than either of you realise because you choose to unravel yourself from the warm cocoon you’d constructed from the fluffy blanket Jimin had gifted you last Christmas and stumble to your door, where he’s knocking insistently. You could have left him to freeze in the cold – your position was perfect, finding it again would be near impossible and the movie you were watching was pretty good – but you don’t. You open the door to his drunk whiny ass and let him in. Again, you must love Jeongguk a whole lot.

“You know you could have gone to your apartment,” You mumble, locking the door behind him. He smells like tequila and sweat. A gross combination but you let it slide because he’s shooting you that million-dollar grin as he toes off his shoes.

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angst drabble with jungkook please? HIT ME WITH THE PAIN. COME AT ME BRO. i’m probably going to regret this LMFAO

primroses

order description. Jungkook’s always missing you, it’s just on a rainy day that’s also your anniversary that he’s missing you the most.

customers. jeon jungkook / reader course. angst / teeny tiny bit of fluff :’) total bill. 1.5k words allergies. angst, character death (major), grieving, pain, crying :(

note ! @sketchguk thank you for being there for me during my rambles of how insecure i am about my writing sjwjsjsjjs. if the read more doesn’t work on mobile, i’m sorry :(

— primroses: i can’t live without you, eternal love

Jungkook’s made this trip more times than he count, comes probably every other week or so, and has visited so many times that he could probably get here with his eyes closed —even though that wouldn’t be very smart— but for some reason, today feels harder than normal.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, the ridges of his knuckles going white as he clenches his jaw, chest heaving with each shaky breath that fills his lungs. The skin under his dark circles is tinged pink, red-rimmed eyes staring out into the distance as he musters you the courage to grow some balls and get out of his car. His legs feel like deadweights, and he can barely get himself out of the driver’s seat, eyes cast downward at the cracks and divots in the concrete. He follows each line and chasm in the asphalt that’s stained with rainwater. The squishy sounds of his shoes against the freshly trimmed, damp grass momentarily distracts him from his thoughts. Drops of dew cling precariously onto the blades of grass, glittering like jewels. He looks for anything and everything to get his mind off of her. His heart feels heavier today, the ache that resounds in his heart worsening with each day that passes.

Tears sting the base of his eyes, pooling in the corners of his doe eyes as he sniffles, struggling to hide the trembling of his body and the quivering of his bottom lip. Pearly, white teeth graze over the plump flesh of his bottom lip as he tightens his grip on the bouquet of flowers in his hand. His feet seem as if they are glued to the ground, imprinted in the soft and slightly damp, muddy patch of grass. Squatting down, he places the bouquet of primroses next to the structure, the pad of his thumb gently brushing against the yellow and pink petals. He glances up at the sky, trying his hardest to blink back the burning tears that threaten to slide down his cheeks.

Carding slender fingers through brown hair, he swallows the lump in his throat, unable to hide the pain that swallows him whole. It throbs in his chest, eating him out from the inside, burning him alive. It hurts, hurts so bad that some days he can’t get out of bed. Some days, his hyungs have to drag him out of bed for him to function. Some days, the most he can do is take a shower and down a glass of water before it all hits him like a truck again, and the pain becomes too much too handle. It’s funny, how bright and full of life he used to be. And now, he’s just a ghost, a husky of a human being, a lifeless soul residing in a shell.

It feels different without you. It feels wrong, it feels weird, and he hates it. It feels wrong to come back to a place he can’t even call home without you waiting with open arms. It feels wrong not to see your pair of shoes placed on the shoe rack next to his Timberlands, without your set of keys plopped in the little bowl at the front entrance, without your smile brightening his day. It feels too quiet, without the low hum of the dryer in the background, the illuminated TV playing softly, the bubbling of a boiling pot on the stove, the padding of your footsteps as you run to him. It feels wrong to sink down into the couch, waiting for you to run from your shared bedroom with lotion in one hand and a blanket in the other. He finds himself wanting nothing more than for the world to swallow him up whole as he barely lives through the days.

It feels wrong for him to fall asleep at night, without you curled up in his arms, the soft snores tumbling from your parted lips, your soft locks of hair fanned out around your head like a halo. He finds himself glancing over to the empty side of the bed more times than he cares to admit, unable to fall asleep because it’s too quiet and too cold. He misses the warmth that radiates from your sleeping figure, the beauty that astounds him when shards of silver moonlight illuminate your figure with a soft glow. It feels wrong to eat dinner alone, missing the warmth and homely feeling of your home-cooked meals. Recently, he’s been eating at the dorms to avoid feeling so lonely and lost in his thoughts.

Performing on stage is the worst. It doesn’t bring him the same euphoric feeling of pure bliss as it used to. He finds himself staring into the distance, at that one spot in the arena where you would normally preside, a proud smile playing across your rosy lips, your eyes bright with excitement. The thrill of it all, the rush of adrenaline, the cheering of the crowd, and the magical warmth that used to throb in his veins is now not enough. It takes too much out of him to sing the songs that were carefully crafted for you, to pour out his heart to someone who isn’t there anymore.

Jungkook finds himself falling deeper and deeper into a hole he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to climb out of.

He places the flowers down, next to the engraving in the stone, next to the plaque with your name carved on it. He lets the tears flow freely from his eyes, wide, broken, and blank eyes filled with more anguish than the amount of space in the universe. His heart quite literally shatters at the thought of your angelic smile. His voice comes out in a breathy murmur, soft and soothing as he gently traces the lines on the stone.

“Hey. I-I’m here again. God, this is so fucking stupid isn’t it? I’m sorry, it just-just hurts so much. I haven’t figured out how to live without you. It hurts too much to not see you, to not be able to touch you, to not be able to have you in my life. I love you, I love you so fucking much and if that means pouring my heart out to you on a rainy day, then so be it. You are the light of my life, and you’d probably be scolding me for crying, for dwelling on my feelings, but I can’t help it. I was going to marry you. I decided that I was going to propose on our anniversary, which is actually today.”

The words are falling from his mouth before he can stop them, and he can taste the saltiness from his tears on the tip of his tongue, and yet even the streams of grief aren’t enough to wash away the anguish that envelopes his entire being. It feels as though he’s drowning, the water rising faster than he can fight it, filling his lungs and yet there’s nothing he can do but breathe it in.

“I was going to spend the rest of my life with you, I’d decided, and we’d talked about our wedding, and the color dress you wanted, the flavor of cake we’d decided on, and we decided we were going to have kids. I had the ring ready, I made a reservation two weeks before just to make sure it would be at your favorite restaurant. I bought my suit already, I had the whole day planned out. In fact, I almost proposed to you that day in the diner, at two o’clock in the morning and goddamnit I wish I did. But I’m just too much of a coward and I loved you too much, getting lost in your eyes as you laughed over some shitty joke. It would’ve been worth it, to be promised as yours even if it only lasted two weeks. I’m never going to stop loving you, and I know you hate it when I cry, but I just have to tell you. If only I-“

Another sob tears through his throat, disrupting the peaceful silence that has settled in the quiet field of flowers. All of a sudden, his body is shaking with the sobs that erupt from his throat, the bitter scars and broken pieces of his heart pouring out of him. He waits a few moments, steadying his breathing and piecing himself back together before he continues. He has to finish, he can’t bear to hold onto the feelings anymore. They sit like burdens on his chest as another sleepless night passes, they hang onto the tips of his fingers when he grips onto the tear-stained sheets. He waits until he feels ready to continue.

“I brought you flowers. Primroses. And you’re probably thinking that I’m such a cheesy dork for it, and I am, but they’re primroses because the florist told me they mean eternal love. This sounds so fucking stupid but it’s worth it if it makes you smile. I wish I could see you smile again. But, I have to go now, Jimin-hyung will murder me if I don’t make it to dance practice on time. I’ll see you next week, hm? God, I probably sound like an idiot right now. I’ve always been your idiot though.”

He wipes away the wet patches of salty liquid that stain his cheeks, the skin around his puffy eyes blotchy, streaked with tears. But there’s a small, half-tender half-sad smile playing across his lips when he finishes.

For the first time in a long while, Jungkook smiles a genuine, real smile.

“I love you, I really hope you know that.”

the read more link doesn’t work on mobile, i’m sorry 🥺 thank u for reading pls reblog and leave a comment if you liked it!!

;middle of the night (m)

After a silly argument, Jungkook wants to apologise… at 2 o’clock in the morning…

pairing; jeon jungkook x reader  genre/warnings; established relationship, domesticated goodness, fluff, they have a dog now, or as Jungkook likes to call him ‘the cock block’, smut  words; 2,150

more﹆chapter index

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Pillow (M)

pairing: jungkook x f, reader

genre: smut/fluff?

wc: 1.6k

warnings: cursing, petnames, mentions of phone sex/video call sex?, jk dry humps his pillow, shy!kook, mutual masturbation, mentions of choking, creampies, oral sex, fingering, marking (scratching and hickeys)

date: June 5, 2020

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Dilf kook letting you ride him on the couch after he put da kids to bed 😉

😖😖 t-thank u for dis,, bc my dilf jk fic was 5k but i deleted it KFJNSMH

-

Chohee is always harder to put to sleep than Sang, she wrestles and cries and throws tantrums until daddy lets her sleep in his bed. You wait on the couch downstairs, exhausted from earlier today.

Jungkook tiptoes down the stairs, careful not to make even the slightest whisper. With a sigh he drops on top of you, you grunt and struggle for a minute before readjusting yourself.

He lays with his body between your legs, face welcomed by the plush of your tits. “Mm, you feel like a pillow.” His hair is soft and he hasn’t shaved in months, for the first time in years you see something that isn’t a baby-smooth face. You think he looks much more rugged, though you prefer Jungkook when he’s cute.

“I know, baby,” you kiss the top of his head, met with a mouthful of russet curls. “You need to cut your hair.”

“Don’t wanna,” Jungkook raises his head to look you in the eye, “I like it.”

“I like it too, but all you do is complain when Sang pulls it,” you continue to pepper kisses all over him, now at a better angle as you peck his puckered pout.

“I like it when you pull it though.” Jungkook speaks lowly, his eyes flit from your cleavage to your face.

“I’m too tired right now,” you start to protest before he can even insinuate what he wants.

“Please, ____,” Jungkook pouts, eyes so wide he looks like Bambi. “I want you.” Your tank is swiftly removed and he’s got you pinned down.

It’s getting hot and heavy, you’ve gotten further than you ever have before. Sang hasn’t started screaming and Chohee hasn’t fallen from bed and bumped her head.

“Faster,” you whine into his lips, he gives you wet open mouthed kisses.

“I thought you didn’t want this, hm? Thought you were tired,” he teases with this stupid grin you want to kiss off of his face.

“Well, I’m not anymore, so could you please just hurry up, Kook?” You beg impatiently, cunt so wet it starts to soak through your panties.

“If you’re so eager, baby, if you want it that bad,” he sits up and you panic at the loss of his heaviness on top of you. “Come get it.” He sits back against the sofa, cock hard and curved against his abdomen.

“I hate you so much,” you grunt as you clamber onto his lap to get yourself off. The slide of his cock into your velvet walls is delicious. Has him drooling and you pulling his poor hair out.

“Still so tight,” He groans.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You mumble against his neck, tongue lolling out to lick his Adam’s apple.

“Because, you’ve had like-“

“Don’t ruin the moment, Jungkook.”

i dont have any inspo but more dilf jk pls 🥺

yes ❤️ here is him being a HIMBO

-

“Why can’t I get out the car?” Jungkook asks, pouting up at you.

“Just stay in and I’ll grab her, Sang is in the car seat I don’t want to wake him up.”

“Why can’t I go?”

“Because I’m already out, dipshit.” You sigh and massage your temples.

The real reason is that you hate the way everybody looks at him. Like they want to fuck him on the spot. Married women who clearly aren’t happy with their husbands. You’re just lucky you snagged a total fucking hunk.

The downside is that everyone wants to touch him and feel his biceps and giggle at his extremely stupid, cheesy dad jokes.

“Chohee loves it when I pick her up.” Jungkook whines, taking off his seatbelt.

“Oh my god, fine.” You say, exasperated with his absolute cluelessness. Jungkook is so fucking hot but so endearingly dumb. Oblivious to everything around him.

“Thank you, wifey,” he coos and leans over the gearshift to kiss your cheek but you dodge it.

“Hurry up, Jungkook.” You seethe through gritted teeth.

dilf jk?? what about milf y/n & jk sees what she goes through since he's a dilf 😏

omg good idea!!

-

There’s this teenager, a freshly graduated student, babysitting Chohee and Sang. Jungkook doesn’t know his name, but what he does know is this kid, this child, this adolescent is flirting with his wife. A full grown woman. And she’s getting all flustered over it too!

“I love your dress, ma’am,” God, Jungkook feels sick, look at this kid pretending to be all suave and macho. Fucking bullshit.

He pouts in the doorway as he waits for you to stop talking, little Sang babbling away in his arms. “Thank you, Taehyung,” you pat it down and smooth out the crinkles, “it’s new, came in the post today.”

When it comes to himself, Jungkook is oblivious, he can’t differentiate between flirting and friendliness, not until he accidentally said yes to this girls blowjob proposal and you had to drag him out the bar. But with you it’s different, he’s hawk-eyed.

“It looks amazing, so flattering,” you giggle and cover your mouth.

What the actual fuck. Why doesn’t he ever get that reaction from you. If he told you that, you’d kiss his nose and call him a cutie in the same voice you use for Sang.

Finally, you take Sang and place him down in the walker, bidding ‘Taehyung’ a goodbye.

“He’s such a sweet kid,” you coo, arm linked with Jungkook’s.

He glowers at nothing in particular as he stares at the ground, helping you into the car because he’s a gentleman.

Taking a seat in the passengers side, Jungkook is brooding, looking out the window like an angsty teenager.

“What’s with the pout, baby?”

“I’m not pouting,” Jungkook whines and speaks in literal pout, further making you coo and reach over to pinch his cheek.

“You’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“You are, I can tell when you are, idiot.”

“Well- well you always get jealous,” Jungkook crosses his arms and huffs.

“The last time we went out you said yes to a fucking blowjob, Jungkook, I think it was more embarrassing,” you snort in amusement and he just looks like an agitated bunny. “It’s not like I asked him to eat me out.”

“Eww, don’t say that, ____!” Jungkook gags and you simply smile as you listen to him complain.

isn’t she lovely;

jeon jungkook | he didn’t know he could love someone this much, after you. dad!au. | 1.3k words | unadulterated fluff. | requested.

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okay but megumi with an overly anxious, emotionally constipated reader who constantly thinks that she's not good enough for him and gets bogged down in her thoughts. like:

"i'm breaking up with you"

megumi doesn't even look up from his phone, merely swiping to the next video.

"no. you're not."

"what do you mean 'no you're not?' that's not how this works"

"you'll thank me in thirty minutes."

and sure enough, thirty minutes later once you've stopped working yourself up into a frenzy, he's right.

part two

continuation of this

@billsinmyboobs here you go!!

exactly thirty three minutes and forty seven seconds later (no he didn't set a timer to make sure you didn't actually need him to check on you shut up he's not that whipped) he looks up to see you standing in front of him sheepishly.

"hey baby..." you play with your fingers, staring at the ground. "so i uh-"

"just come here." he cuts you off, tugging you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you. you squawk, awkwardly adjusting so you weren't accidentally kneeing him in the gut before melting against his warm chest.

humming contentedly, you nuzzle into his neck, feeling all of your insecurities and negative thoughts fade away as you inhale his scent.

"i'm sorry i got all in my head. sometimes i just get so afraid that we're gonna break up one day and that i'm never going to recover. so i feel like i need to break up with you now before i fall even harder for you."

he huffs against the top of your head. "well are you planning on breaking up with me in the future?" you shake your head.

"no."

"well i'm not either." his arms tighten around you and his voice drops to a whisper. "so don't say shit like that, 'kay?"

you agree, and as the two of you cuddle in comfortable silence a thought occurs to you. maybe, just maybe, your stoic, equally emotionally constipated boyfriend wasn't as unaffected by your impulsive declaration as you thought.

AAAHOOOOOOO AJAIEIWKAKJFIDJFHFHEHTHEJAIDUD OMG HIM🥺😭💓

Words of Comfort

It all just felt so hard. All of it. All the responsibilities piling up onto you. Every expectation, wish and will of the people around you; other people. Other people. What about what you wanted? What you wished and willed? Shouldn’t it have been so much more meaningful than what others wanted? Yes, it should’ve! But. There you were, sitting outside on a step of stairs, and looking into the distance with a glazed over expression. 

Your posture was slouched forward, and you rested your arms against your knees, trying to think about it all. But as much as you tried, your train of thought remained stationary. It all just had piled up to be too much. Too much, too much, too much. 

But you were so engulfed into your stationary thoughts, that you didn’t notice him walking up to you, even if from behind, and sitting down next to you. 

“Hey,” he began, and as he did, you turned your head to see Eso sitting there, side by side with you. “Tough time, eh?” He asked, keeping his gaze forward. 

“Yeah,” you breathed out while averting your eyes, and looking somewhere into the distance. Just anywhere. It was so hard to face even him. 

“I get it,” he continued, “quite frankly I don’t know where I’d be without my brothers. Because.. they’re my rock. Especially Choso. He’s always looking out for us.”

You listened to him, silently hoping that he was going somewhere with it all, because you didn’t have what he had. You didn’t have anyone who’d always be there for you. Your family was there to just try and push you forward, despite what you yourself wanted. 

“So,” he uttered while wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against him. “If you need someone to be there. I’ll do that. I might not be Choso, but maybe I can be a bit like him.” He spoke with a melancholic tone, but somewhere, hidden beneath it all, hope flickered, more vibrant and radiant than the sorrows that laid on top. 

And that flicker, no matter how small, it made you smile.  

Read part two here!

His head was so quiet. 

Your head was so loud. 

That voice didn’t belong to you, nor did it belong to the pink-haired boy who stares at you with widened, scared eyes. His hands shake as they reach out for you, but there’s something that stops him from closing the distance.  

You blink, eyes heavy as something inside of your chest twists — almost painfully so. You lift a hand to the front of your shirt, bunching up the fabric and glancing up at Yuuji. He still looks downright horrified, but you can’t seem to figure out why. 

And suddenly … everything in your head was silent.  

In front of you stretched an endless void, the light diminishing completely before you could even process that it was there. You open your mouth to speak, or to yell for help, but nothing but a pathetic garble falls from your parted lips. 

“Hmm, didn’t think I would enjoy a brat’s body quite as much as I do this one.”  

It’s your voice, but at the same time, it isn’t. 

Yuuji’s heart drops to his stomach, widened eyes burning with tears. Now he knew why you sounded so different.  

Those dark black marks. 

Those rings around your wrists. 

That sadistic glint to your usually softened eyes.  

No. 

Yuuji stares silently, his heart now in his throat as he stares at you … or rather … your body.  

Your eyes flicker up to meet his own, and he can see the last traces of you being promptly snuffed out like a candle left out for too long.  

“Let her go.” 

A deep chuckle that feels so unlike you tumbles from your parted lips. Your head tilts back, eyes glaring down your nose at Yuuji.  

Yuuji swallows the growing lump in his throat, clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists.  

Shit. 

Do you guys wanna see this continued? I half-assed this in class LMAO.  

TOJI who comes home late from work to a silent house. All of the lights in the house are off, the only source of illumination being the flickering screen of the television, and even that is stuck on a multicolored SOURCE UNKNOWN screen.  

“Baby? Y’in here?” he calls out to the empty living room, eyebrows furrowing in a mixture of confusion and concern as he toes off his shoes.  

He continues through the silent apartment, dutifully checking each room before finally standing in the doorframe of the master bedroom. Against his better judgement, Toji’s lips turn upward at the sight that lies in front of him.  

Toji approaches the bed, sitting at its edge and being careful to not accidentally crush your legs underneath the weight of his body.  

You look so peaceful wrapped up in the sheets of your shared bed, lips parted in gentle breaths with that tiny line of drool trickling down from the corner of your mouth.  

He reaches a finger out, stroking the back of it against your cheek and grinning to himself as you subconsciously move closer to the warmth radiating from his skin.  

“Fuckin’ hell,” he murmurs, lowering himself to lay across from you. He opens his arms, scooping you into them and tucking your head into the crook of his neck.  

You hum sleepily against his skin, eyes fluttering open as your arms wind around his midsection, followed then by your legs tangling with his own.  

“Hi baby,” you murmur, bleary eyes blinking up at him as he cranes his neck to gaze down at you.  

“Hey,” he mutters, laying a kiss against your forehead and grinning to himself as you snuggle closer to him. “Sleepy?” 

“Mhm. Tried t’wait up.” 

His chest warms at your words, arms momentarily squeezing you. He’d never admit it to anyone — he’d rather die than say it aloud … but you made him so incredibly soft.  

Only you. Only you. 

Hey 💕 Can I request story about Sukuna being all soft and gentle with reader? 😩 Like soft morning with him, waking up together, and make out session or some gentle sex with a lot of praise. I love domestic Sukuna I’m sorry 😔

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Warning(s) - None!

A/N - Damn maybe I do like writing for Sukuna (I've been his #1 hater since season 1 of JJK dropped).

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Biting back the sleepy groan that climbs up your throat, you open your bleary eyes to peek at the sunlight that filters in through your bedroom's thin curtains. You shift lightly only to be stopped by someone's arms tightening around your waist, further rooting you to your place in bed – Sukuna. 

How ironic that the King of Curses would be a stage-five clinger come the morning sun. But of course, nobody would ever believe you if that admittance fell from your lips. And it wasn’t like he would admit it either. 

You yawn, lifting your fingers to swipe at the crust that clings to the corners of your eyes. As much as you wanted to relish in Sukuna’s hold, the urge to go to the bathroom and relieve yourself was becoming painfully apparent — though you knew that any attempt to leave bed would be completely futile.  

Even with that knowledge, you attempt to sit upward, only to be met with a sharp groan from Sukuna followed by the tightening of his arm over your waist. His nails dig into the exposed skin of your hips, effectively rooting you to your place in bed.  

“Quit movin’ around you brat,” Sukuna murmurs, shifting closer to you and burying his face into the waistband of your pajama pants, exhaling deeply and adjusting himself to be more comfortable. You chuckle to yourself, turning your head to stare down at the sleepy King of Curses — it would be funny if you were to “accidentally” take a photo of him.  

“I have to pee Ryo,” you reply, reaching a hand out and threading your fingers through his hair, nails raking gently over his scalp. Against his better judgement, Sukuna leans into the warmth that your touch radiates, eyes still closed like a content cat. It was humorous, this was the same man who could destroy entire cities with so much as a snap of his fingers.  

“Mmph.” His arms tighten impossibly further around you, his actions earning a breathy giggle from you. You can feel his lips quirk upward against the skin of your hip, but you don’t say anything, not wanting to ruin this incredibly rare moment.   

You decide to humor him, lowering yourself into his arms and tucking your head underneath his chin. Your arms circle his neck, nails scraping over his nape and toying with the hairs that reside there. Sukuna, shockingly, presses himself further into your touch, seeking more of it like a cat starved of affection.  

His forehead ghosts over your own, eyes closed in content the moment that your skin meets his own. He would never admit it to you, but the safety that stood in tandem with your presence was reassuring in a way that not even he could describe.  

"Five more minutes woman," Sukuna murmurs, tightening his grip on you and going so far as to tangle his legs with your own, only further trapping you to the sheets of your bed.  

You giggle, laying a kiss against his lips, not failing to notice the way that his quirk up against your own.  

"Five more minutes." 

Tagged - @quinnyundertow, @pweewee

A/N - This is a part 2 to this piece!

Word Count - 0.9k

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Yuuji swallows the growing lump in his throat, clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists.  

Shit. 

< … > 

"Let her go," he says, willing his voice to be firm, but it falls short. He knows that he must sound absolutely pathetic in comparison to what he wants, but words were his only weapon.  

He couldn't clench his fists and fight – not when it was you. 

"So desperate. This little body must mean worlds to you, am I right brat?"  

Yuuji swallows the growing lump in his throat, staring into your eyes and wondering if somehow, you're staring back at him. He hopes that you're there somewhere, and wherever you were, he could reach you. 

He just needed to stall for long enough to make that happen.  

"Just let her go," Yuuji begs, taking a brave step forward. You … or rather Sukuna … takes a step away from him, creating distance that only shoves Yuuji's heart further down into his stomach. "You can do whatever you want, but just don't--" 

"You dare order me around? I spared you," Sukuna growls, tipping your head upward so that you could glare down your nose at Yuuji. He gulps, the coldness of your eyes such a foreign sight.  

"You said that … that you wouldn't do anything to hurt her," Yuuji recalls, desperation seeping into his tone as he takes another step towards Sukuna. Sukuna retaliates by forcing your body backward again. 

"When was I ever known to keep such meaningless promises?" Sukuna curls your lips upward into a smirk, tilting your head to the side and watching as Yuuji's face pales.  

Suddenly, your body contorts, your right hand curling into a white-knuckled fist that you promptly ram into your chest. Sukuna coughs, tilting your head down to glance at where your fist had connected with your chest.  

Yuuji watches in shock – watches as your right fist reels back again, this time connecting with your cheek. Again, Sukuna splutters, legs buckling slightly under the force with which you had punched up into your own face.  

"(Y/N)?" he mutters to himself, tilting his head. Sukuna, or rather you, jerk your head towards Yuuji. For a split second, just a singular split second, he can see that flicker of warmth that was just purely you.  

"That brat is … damn it," Sukuna snarls, nose crinkling in both frustration and disgust. He reaches your left hand towards your right, curling your fingers around your wrist and roughly tugging it downward.  

Somewhere in the darkness, you clench your hands into fists, operating blindly. This was your body. 

“Fucking brat!” Sukuna suddenly yells, your fingers losing grip over your own wrist. Your left hand releases your right, and once again, your fist connects with your cheek.  

Yuuji watches, eyes widening as the realization of what you were doing slowly seeps in. He has been right — you were still somewhere in there. 

“(Y/N)!” Yuuji yells out, bravely sprinting from his place and locking his arms around your waist, ignoring Sukuna’s vicious yells of protest. He tugs your back flush against his chest, closing his eyes and ignoring the pain that erupts in his chest as Sukuna forces you to squirm in Yuuji's hold. 

"Unhand me!" Sukuna shouts, kicking out one of your legs in the hopes that it would loosen Yuuji's grip. It doesn't. 

Your right hand trembles before shooting upward, palm covering your eyes and gripping tightly onto your temples. Sukuna lets out a frustrated shout, lips pulling back in an angered snarl. 

"C'mon (Y/N), c'mon," Yuuji whispers pleadingly, digging his heels into the ground and tightening his grip. Your body trembles for a moment, shaking against him before falling completely limp. "(Y/N)!" 

"And just what makes you think that you can take this body back?" Sukuna tilts his head at you, circling you like a lion would its prey. Calculating red eyes narrow at you, pupils narrowed into snake-like slits as you stare helplessly back at the King of Curses.  

"I won't let you--" 

"You won't let me what? You do understand how absolutely powerless you are in comparison to me, don't you?" Sukuna barks out a laugh, roughly taking hold of your face and forcing your gaze upon him.  

Your eyes water at the sudden pressure applied to your skin, body shaking as Sukuna lowers his face to be inches from yours – nose to nose.  

"I'll kill him with your hands," Sukuna smirks at you, relishing in the expression of horror that falls over your face. He bites back the rising laugh in his throat, instead releasing his hold on your face.  

You stare helplessly, lowering your head and staring down at your hands. Sukuna bends, kneeling in front of you and tilting his head.  

"What'll it be?" 

"(Y/N) …?" Yuuji murmurs, hands cradling either side of your face. He blinks back the tears in his eyes, staring down at your face and smiling as your eyes flicker to meet his own. His lips part to greet you again, eyes already crinkling at the corners.  

The marks on your face and wrists haven't … haven't faded.  

"(Y/N) …?" Yuuji whispers again, watching as you remove yourself from his lap and rise to your feet. Your back turns to him, then your head tilts to catch a glance of him from over your shoulder.  

Your lips curl upward into a smirk, eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing together. "(Y/N) is gone …" 

Yuuji's eyes widen, heart sinking as he too rises to his feet. His hands go slack as he stares at you.  

" … brat." 

HEHE if y'all want an alternate ending please let me know, but I had so much fucking fun writing this! 

A/N - I don't really know what this is, but I randomly thought of this because of those fucking TikTok slideshows.

"And Yuuji?" 

The pink-haired teenager turns, eyes meeting your awaiting gaze. His lips curl upward in a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.  

"Yeah?" 

"Be careful out there." 

Yuuji's smile widens – if that was even possible – and he sends a thumbs-up in your direction. "You got it!" 

No, no, no, no. 

"Kugisaki! Run!" Yuuji shouts, hand desperately extending in the direction of his friend. His eyes widen as the sound of a slap echoes throughout the otherwise empty train terminal. He can feel his heart promptly stopping in his chest as Mahito continues running, only turning once he's skidded to a stop a few inches behind Nobara's back.  

His head turns, eyes casting a glance over his shoulder. A grin spreads over his face at the destruction he's caused, a childlike glint to his eyes as he watches Nobara's palm cover the eye that he had touched.  

You stare silently from your place, eyes wide at the scene that begins to unfold in front of you. You had seen this somewhere before, a muddled memory that featured different figures – but it was a dangerous similarity nonetheless. 

Yuuji freezes in place, watching as Nobara's eyes cast themselves to the ground, her palm still covering her right eye. Her expression conveys just how conflicted she is, but for a moment, there's a moment of acceptance.  

That's where you'd seen it before.  

A bright eyed girl with her entire life ahead of her and a boy who only wanted to help her. Then, just like the snapping of someone's fingers, gone is the girl.  

And left behind is the boy to grapple with the aftermath of her death.  

With a smile on her face, Nobara uncovers her eye, allowing Yuuji to see the veins beneath her skin. Already they are enflamed – both she and Yuuji know what is going to happen, and shockingly, she accepts it.  

Yuuji shakes his head, slowly approaching Nobara. He doesn't want it to be true … she knows that there's no other outcome.  

"Y'know … it wasn't so bad," Nobara admits with a closed-eye smile. She chuckles breathily, a tear slipping down from her uninjured eye. Her head tilts, her bangs flopping momentarily over her eyes before the veins in her right eye expand and explode.  

Yuuji stares, eyes widened in horrified shock as the body of one of his closest friends falls to the floor with a lifeless, heavy thud.  

You remember seeing that exact expression worn by another face, one that had blurred with time, but one that you had once regarded with a love so pure that surely anyone would be jealous of it.  

From your place behind Yuuji, all you can do is watch – just as you had done all of those years ago. All you can do is watch as he stares down at her corpse, just like another had done. 

But this time … 

… you approach Yuuji carefully. Extending your hand, you lay your palm flat against his back, turning him to face you while your eyes never leave Nobara.  

Her eyes stare blankly up at the ceiling, devoid of any and all of the warmth that once encapsulated her irises. You'd seen that before too.  

"I--" Yuuji begins, but the thought is cut off as a sob rises in his throat. His eyes crinkle, tears falling from where they had been clinging to his bottom lash line. His body turns, arms wrapping tightly around your midsection.  

You say nothing as you return his embrace, allowing him to bury his face away into your shoulder – likely not wanting to stare into the lifeless eyes of one of his best friends. "Shh." 

"Geto-san," Yuuji whimpers into your shoulder, then dissolving into tears. You screw your eyes shut, trying your best to mask the shaky sigh that falls from your lips. You turn your head, laying your cheek against the top of his head and squeezing him tighter into your embrace.  

"I know," you say shakily, swallowing your own tears, "I know." 

Hey hi hemlo

Love your writing style so much, that asshole Gojo fic made my heart squeeze like you wouldn't believe

Can I make a request?

A foreign Jujutsu Tech teacher/sorcerer struggling to do paperwork in Japanese. Satoru and/or Suguru try to help, but end up a distraction instead lol

A Welcome Distraction

Sypnosis - Working is already grueling enough, made worse only by the human-sized distractions that are ... the loves of your life.

Warning(s) - None, this is really just pure fluff.

A/N - This really just spiraled into Gojo being an absolute distraction, but I hope y'all enjoy nonetheless!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

"There she is!" 

"Satoru … restrain yourself, even if it's just for a second." 

With a smile already curling the corners of your mouth upward, you turn your head to your classroom door – which had been swung open by Gojo, a wide smile already plastered onto his face. Not too far behind him was Geto, whose apologetic eyes flicker to you and whose lips quirk upward in an equally as apologetic smile.  

You say nothing as Gojo enters your classroom, beelining to where you sit behind your desk and wrapping his arms around you. His chin lowers to rest against the top of your head, a content hum rumbling in his throat when you lean back in his arms.  

“Hello sweet girl,” Gojo says with a wide smile, tilting his head to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You hum, then turning your head to watch Geto as he approaches. 

“Hi. What brings you both around here?” you inquire with a tilt of your head, turning in your seat to get a better look at Gojo. He peers over your shoulder, glancing at the unfinished paperwork that you had been tending to for the better part of two hours.  

Geto leans down, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and sneaking a glance at your paperwork. “Hi honey, we just wanted to check in on you.”  

You smile, accepting the kiss that Gojo leans in to steal from you, his hands holding either side of your face as his lips curl into a boyish grin against your own.  

Geto rolls his eyes, reaching out to grip the collar of Gojo’s shirt and lightly prying him away from you; though he couldn’t deny the warmth in his chest at both of his lovers doting on one another.  

“That’s sweet of you both, but don’t you have physical training with your students today?” you tilt your head, remembering how Gojo was supposed to tend to the first-years and Geto the second-years.  

At the mention of fulfilling his teacher duties, Gojo groans childishly, hanging his head so that his forehead hits against your shoulder. His back arches uncomfortably, but his discomfort is lessened by the sound of your sweet laugh.  

“I let them have a small break, I couldn’t let Satoru run rampant,” Geto replies teasingly, grinning down at you. You set down the pen in your hand, lifting a hand to Gojo’s hair and scratching at his scalp — which he doesn’t hesitate to purr at.  

“Not true!” Gojo murmurs against your shoulder, removing his head from your shirt and turning to glance at Geto with a dramatic pout, bottom lip jutted out like a child who had been denied a snack before dinner.  

"It's entirely true love," you nod in agreement, chuckling breathily to yourself. Gojo huffs, this time completely disconnecting from you and taking a step away from your desk. He crosses his arms over his chest, still pouting.  

"You're both just so mean to me, and for no reason," he complains loudly, borderline stomping his foot against the ground as his gaze flickers between you and Geto. You turn to your raven-haired lover, both of you sharing a knowing smile just as Gojo grows annoyed with being ignored.  

Geto once again sneaks a glance at the paperwork scattered about your desk; ranging from mission logs given to you by Ijichi to student papers that you had procrastinated grading. His eyebrows furrow at the notes that you had scrawled into the paper's margins, but he doesn't bring any attention to it. 

"It's not being mean 'toru," you try to reason with your childish lover, but he merely presses his palms against his ears and hums obnoxiously. You sigh in exasperation, rubbing your temples before turning to Geto – your only saving Grace.  

Geto chuckles, catching Gojo as he dramatically falls into the former's arms, head knocking against Geto's broad shoulder.  

"Come now, you know she didn't mean it that way," Geto says, voice shaking as he struggles to hold back the chuckle that rises in his throat. "There isn't any reason for you to be this dramatic." 

It's your turn to chuckle now, the noise making both men smile lovingly at you. You half lean over your desk, arms covering your now abandoned paperwork as you turn your attention to both Gojo and Geto. 

"He's right, I don't mind that you both came to visit me," you say truthfully, lips still curled upward in that smile that your lovers could spend hours admiring. "I appreciate it actually." 

Gojo immediately disconnects himself from Geto's arms, beelining for you once again and wrapping you up in a bone-crushing embrace. You laugh heartily in his arms, squealing as he effortlessly lifts you from where you sit behind your desk.  

"'toru! I have work to do!" Your plea to return to working goes completely ignored by the snowy-haired man, who only tightens his grip around you and proceeds to spin you around. Geto joins in on the laughter, his chest warm and his eyes crinkled in a loving smile.  

Even with your complaining, and even with your pleading, you truly do love the distractions provided by not just one … but both of the loves of your life. 

"Cleaning up?" Geto asks with a curious tilt of his head, watching as you lift another framed photograph from your bedside table. You smile, turning on your heel.  

"Yeah, that and I wanted to replace a couple of the pictures," you answer, gesturing to the photo frames lying face up on your bed. Geto follows your gaze, humming thoughtfully. "Want to help me pick them out?" 

Geto smiles, closing the distance between you both and placing a sweet kiss against your forehead. Your arms wrap around his waist, holding him close to you. His eyes wander down to the photograph in your hands – it was one of you, himself, Nanako, and Mimiko.  

Nanako and Mimiko are hanging off of Geto's outstretched arms, their lips turned upward in bright smiles. You're standing just in front of Geto, hands hovering beneath the twin girls just in case either one of them were to fall.  

"Don't replace that one," Geto says suddenly, reaching a larger hand out and taking the frame from you. He smiles at it, then returning it to your hand. You chuckle breathily, stepping out of his embrace and turning to glance at the other photographs you had laid out on your bed.  

"I like that one too. But what about these?" 

You receive no answer. 

"Sugu?" You turn back to where he had been standing, tilting your head curiously. The space he occupied was empty.  

"Mama? Who are you talkin' to?" Nanako peeks her head into your bedroom, her eyebrows pinching together in confusion as she pushes your door open. You still, eyes flickering down to the frame in your hands. Your fingers tighten over it, eyes pricking with tears. "Mama?" 

"Nothin' honey," you reply tearfully, smiling shakily at her as you swipe the backs of your knuckles against your eyes.  

"It was nobody." 

Gojo knew that you absolutely adored his eyes, and in turn, he began to adore them as well.  

At multiple points throughout his life, Gojo would stare daggers into his own reflection. His hands would grip the sides of the sink, knuckles turning white from how tightly he curled his fingers.  

Your eyes are a curse, he would tell himself. They prevented him from proper rest, working on overdrive and spoon-feeding him information that he never truly wanted. The abilities and techniques of others constantly swarmed his mind, drowning out his own thoughts.  

That was before he met you. 

That was before you held his face in your hands and gazed at his eyes with such adoration that he felt himself melting on the spot. Before your soft lips parted to whisper to him, "Your eyes are gorgeous." 

From that point forward, he told himself that his eyes were gorgeous. He looked at them in the mirror with love, not with that burning hatred that he had known for so many years. He takes a second to admire them now in the morning, running the tips of his fingers against the skin underneath his eyes, smiling faintly to himself.  

Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. 

He hears you say it to him every time he lifts his blindfold and catches a glimpse of his reflection. He can feel the ghost of your hands over his cheeks, how your thumbs stroked his skin and how your lips pressed to his closed eyelids.  

But you're not around anymore. 

It had been months since Gojo heard your voice, or felt your touch. Your last mission had ended in you never returning home – a fact that Gojo struggled to stomach. But shockingly, his hatred for his eyes never returned.  

"Satoru! There you are!" 

He pauses, feet suddenly feeling as though they were being weighed down by bricks. The heads of the transfigured humans he'd killed fall to the ground with dull thuds. He turns on his heel, heart dropping to his stomach.  

It's you. 

Your lips are turned upward in that soft smile that he had kissed so many times. You tilt your head at him, eyes opening as your smile begins to fade.  

His eyes roam over your figure, drinking in every detail about you and committing it to memory … not that he had forgotten anything about you in the first place.  

Gojo's Six Eyes kept repeating over and over again that it was you. You were alive … standing right in front of him as if nothing bad had ever happened to you.  

In that moment, at that very second … 

… he had never hated his eyes more.