When Yoongi picks up his phone in the middle of the night, he notices two things: one, Jungkook is calling him and two, he already has an unread text from him. He sits up in worry, somewhat calmed when he sees the text in the notification bar only reads, ‘are u awake?’
He swipes the green icon and grunts into the receiver. “Kook? Everything okay?”
“Oh,” Jungkook says, surprise clear in his voice. But, there’s no fear or panic. “You’re awake?”
“Am now.” Yoongi lies back down, relieved it’s not an emergency. “Why’re you still awake?”
“No reason.” A pause. Then, a sigh. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Yoongi responds, a sleepy grin on his face.
Jungkook is quiet, and Yoongi can picture the younger’s own silly grin—wide like it had been across the table at a food tent some hours ago, when Yoongi decided to say 'I love you’ for the first time. Jungkook had been mid-chew when he said it, and might’ve almost choked on a rice cake.
After a few more moments of silence, Yoongi asks, “Is that it?”
Yoongi laughs too. He pulls his phone away for a second to check the time—4:46 am. “Did you think something changed in the five hours since I drove you home?”
Another pause that tells him, yeah, Jungkook was doubting. “…No.”
At the food tent, after Jungkook had cleared his throat and gulped down some water, he had looked at Yoongi from beneath the fringe of his hair, eyes wide—and unbelieving. It had only lasted a moment. Jungkook quickly said his own 'I love you’ with that grin and a blush on his cheeks, but it was long enough for Yoongi to feel unsettled.
“Yah, Jeon Jungkook.”
“I love you.”
“Are you smiling?”
“Hmm, then—I love you.”
“I’m gonna say it until you smile—I love you.”
“Okay! Okay,” Jungkook says with a laugh. “I love you, too.”
“Good. Because I love you.”
“I’m smiling! You can stop now.” Yoongi can picture the pout, can picture Jungkook biting his cheek to keep himself from smiling too wide. “Sorry for waking you up.”
“S'okay. Not busy today.”
“Me neither.” Yoongi can hear the sound of shifting, of Jungkookie rolling over in bed. “Could I… come over later? Maybe for lunch?”
“Yeah.” Yoongi yawns. “Lunch ’s good.”
Jungkook hums. “Hmm, lunch.”
It’s Jungkook who says it first this time. “G'night, Yoongi. Love you.”
Neither of them actually hang up, too tired to do anything more than let their phones fall from their hands onto their pillows, the sound of the other’s breath against the receiver lulling them to sleep.
will you do one where reader is pregnant and her back hurts so j gives her a back rub, then it either turns into smut or fluff you choose(:
A/N: I’ve gotten to the point of where I procrastinate my school work so much, that I can actually write fics hella quick. Hope you enjoy, left me know your thoughts!
You had just finished eating dinner with J, you got up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
“I’m going to bed, goodnight.” You told him.
He didn’t reply, he was too busy looking over some master plans. So you left him and made your way upstairs to your shared bedroom.
Being 8 months pregnant could be exhausting at times, but for the most part you enjoyed the experience. It was such a rare thing to see the King of Gotham obsess over something other than himself. He wasn’t happy when you first had told him, he hadn’t screamed and yelled, instead he had quietly left the room without a word. Five hours later he had found crying in the garden of the back yard.
“What’s the tears for dolly?” He purred coming up and wrapping his strong arms around your back, while resting his chin on your shoulder.
“You don’t want the baby, or me anymore.” You sobbed out.
“Now, now, Y/N. What have I told you about putting words in my mouth.” He asked.
“Not to do it?” You sniffed, turning your body in his arms to look at him.
“You mean that J? You’re okay with this?” You asked disbelief in your wide eyes.
“Yeah, what the hell! It could be fun, and we both know how much I love that! Besides this kid could make for some great tax write offs. HA!” His voice was filled with that dramatic flare you loved so much, letting you know he was serious.
“We both know you don’t pay taxes.” You laughed, before going on your tiptoes to kiss him.
There had also been the time when you had first felt your baby kick. You had been sitting on the large leather sofa reading, while you ran a hand through J’s green hair while he napped on your lap. You squealed and sat up when you felt a little kick. J was up and by your side in an instant, drawing a gun from you had no idea where.
“What is it?!” He growled in his sleepy sexy voice.
“I felt the baby kick!” You said grabbing his finless hand and rubbing it around on your tummy.
And then you felt it again, a small kick where the Jokers hand was. His bright blue eyes jerked up at you in disbelief, as you smiled widely at him. Then another kick and another.
“Oh she really liked you J.” You said to him.
“I like her.” He purred quietly.
He then drug you back to the couch and readjusted himself on your lap, but this time making sure his ear was right next to your tummy. Your baby continued kicking, which would in turn make J bust up laughing, and say she already had better fighting skills than you.
But now you were tired after doing to simplist thing of eating, it was all you could due to brush your teeth and change into your silk pj’s. You were just brushing out your hair when J came into the room and began readying himself for bed as well. Slipping into his black Batman pj bottoms and removing his shirt. You crawled into bed and laid on your side facing away from J’s. A minute later the lights went off and the bed dipped besides you. J immediately wrapped you up in his arms as he buried his nose in your sweet smelling hair.
You felt bad, you and J hadn’t been together for a while now. But you really appreciated his unvoiced understanding. You had teasing told him that his gentleman was slipping through the cracks, which he had playfully slapped your ass in reply.
J pulled away from your body causing you to whine at the loss of warmth, but you were soon silenced when you felt his hands began to rub your back. God, it felt so good. The way his long, strong fingers worked at your most tender spots. You couldn’t help but let out a moan. You heard J giggle behind you as his hand began to wander a little higher to your chest. You smirked knowing exactly what he was after, and who were you it to deny him.
Slowly you intertwined your hand with his, and turned to face him. His lips caught yours in a hungry but soft kiss. You replied eagerly. Soon his lips wonders down to your neck, kiss all the right places he knew you loved. After about a minute or so he was ready for the next step, and lifted his eyes to yours. But instead of finding you aroused and ready as well, he found you dead asleep. He had half a mind to wake you up. But when he stared at your peaceful form a smile couldn’t help but replace the scowl on his face. He kissed your forehead and wrapped you up in his arms once again.
“I wasn’t in the mood anyways.” He said out loud, before drifting asleep himself.
I love procrastinating on actual fics by writing these little guys.
Stiles dashed up to the subway car, jamming his shoulder into the door just as it was starting to close, and let momentum carry him down into the nearest seat after stumbling inside. The seat was right next to someone, and he thought about moving—the train car was practically empty, which was a goddamn miracle at 8:30 in the evening—but instantly reconsidered when he twisted his head and caught sight of who was sitting next to him.
Tall and broad, with thick-rimmed dark glasses and a heavy layer of stubble that Stiles could only describe as artful, he was engrossed in a paperback and completely unperturbed by Stiles’ acrobatic entrance. Stiles was no stranger to ogling hot guys on the train—hell, it was practically an official hobby—but this was something else.
Inspired by the sight next to him, Stiles opened Instagram on his phone and started scrolling through one of his favorite feeds. But after a few minutes, all of a sudden his phone was being yanked out of his hand, and the guy was shooting him a murderous glare. It was mostly in the eyebrows.
“Who are you?” the guy demanded. “Are you stalking me or something?”
“What the fuck?” Stiles yelped, holding up his hands. He’d had his fair share of interesting experiences on the subway, just like any New Yorker, and this one was quickly climbing the list. “No! I’ve never seen you before in my life. What the hell is your problem, dude?”
“Then why do you have a picture of me on your phone?”