#for fear of losing what little bit of her he had

[theolliesaurus]

i'm so sorry,, op.

february this year will mark 10 years since i lost my dad - he passed away in his sleep from an aneurysm in his heart. yet i still remember when we got the phone call - it was the morning and my mum came to wake me up. the news didn't Hit until a later date. i didn't know how to cry when i first found it all out; that he'd passed 3 days prior to the call and was found face down in his bed,, that my sister was preparing to tell him the news of her then pregnancy.

i remember i got out of bed because my mum wanted me to follow her into my sister's room. my sister was sobbing buckets on the bed. and that was when my mum broke the news. i didn't outwardly react or start crying. i don't remember feeling much of anything. but my sister wanted me to come forwards when my mum left the room,, and she just pulled me in close and hugged me. but i still didn't cry.

the one thing i did was turn on my laptop and start watching a video to escape the news instead. but i still didn't yet cry.

but instead the funeral in march was where i broke.

what hurts the most is i never got to see him one last time,, nor did i ever get to say goodbye. and i still feel so guilty about not being able to communicate with him anymore because of the trauma of what he went through in past years,, with his sudden fall that lead to a triple heart bypass surgery,, to which he then would have to remain in a care home for the rest of his years as it excelled his huntington's to the point he couldn't live or care for himself anymore.

and because i no longer have him in my life,, i fear what will happen when i inevitably will lose my remaining parent or how i'll cope - my mum is my carer as i can't live independently due to disability,, there's things i can't do to take care of myself and skills i'm not able to learn.

which then sparks fears of what's going to happen to my sisters and to me,, because i'm planned to be transferred over to one if anything should happen to our mum,, and then transferred over to another if anything then happens to the sister who's first in line to care for me,, and so forth and so forth.....

but;

two or three of my favourite childhood memories that i look back on often include how my dad would take me shopping with him in the car into the next town,, and the shopping center had a little cafe next to it - the cafe had one of those coin-operated kiddie rides outside of it also (it was Scoop from "Bob the Builder"). so when we had finished shopping,, my dad then took me into the cafe and he bought me a cake to eat,, and then would let me play on that kiddie ride.

or there was a moment where we drove to the next town in the car,, and he stopped at one point to buy us a pastry each,, and we just sat in the car together eating our pastries.

or just the simplicity of being taken to the library to rent out a dvd on the weekends when he came to pick me up from my house. then we'd walk on down to his flat afterwards where i'd stay for a couple hours before bringing me back home. i'd play games on his computers,, or i'd take pictures with his photography camera out the back window.

or how when we'd make cakes down his flat,, he'd let me lick the mixture in the bowl and off the spoon. and how he'd let me help out with putting the roast chicken in the oven for dinner.

i still have a piece of his flat. a bit of his wallpaper that was ripped. and yet it's tucked away in a cupboard below my computer.

i have his photography camera that he left me. and yet i just can't bring myself to use it.

i had his computer from his care home that he wanted me to have - because i would always do drawings on it when i visited. it was the one physical thing i had left of him that felt alive. and yet i broke down when it suddenly didn't work anymore. now it sits tucked away in our storage cupboard downstairs; because i still can't part with it.

i still have some money that he inherited to me that i still haven't yet touched or done anything with.

it all still hurts.

and what hurts more is my mum offered for me to see his body in the coffin on the day of the funeral,, but i declined and said no.....

No one prepares you for how crippling grief is, last year my mom died of cancer. I watched her decline so rapidly that my brain couldn't understand who I was looking at by the time she passed. I couldn't understand who I was by the time she passed because I had to become a vessel who makes appointments, dresses, nurses, cooks and an entity who does not sleep. I did it all alone. The reality is that cancer eats away at everything, it lives on even after the patient dies. It ate away at every part of me, I couldn't get out of bed, I had sleep paralysis, I couldn't stop seeing her... like that. They asked me if she's my grandmother when they carried her out of the house. She was in her early 50s. Do you understand? In 3 months, she began to look like she was 80. Everyone wanted me to move on after a month, no one called anymore, not even a text. I thought I was alone when she was alive, but this was a new type of isolation. One that I barely survived. (thank you to my mutuals and tumblr for being an outlet)

It's been a year and 6 months, today I realized she's not the first thing I think of in the morning, or the last thing I think of before I fall asleep. I couldn't even call to do paperwork before, now I'm forgetting why it was even that difficult.

The sun's out, I think i'm going to get ice cream without feeling guilty that it's not something she can do anymore.

[defuckingthrone-dot-com]

A Dirty Wedding Affair 🌴🌅

Summary: Just a quick little blurb about having a One Night Stand with Noah 

Pairing: Noah x Reader

TW: Sex p in v, oral sex.

A/N: Ever since i saw this picture i thought of this scenario. I talked to @concretejunglefm about it she actually contributed to some of the ideas here. also, title by her! Any way enjoy! xx.

Divider by @bernardsbendystraws

I really don't know how I got involved in this situation, I was always careful with things like this. Actually when I think about it, it wasn't really my style to do this type of thing. But here I was hiding behind a damn palm tree decoration on a small reception of this Hotel. I was trying to not get noticed by the guy whose bed I left this morning before he actually woke up. The walk of shame back to my room felt a little too real, and I guess I wasn't hiding hard enough because from the corner of my eyes I saw him walk up with a big smirk on his face.

“Are you really trying to hide behind that flimsy excuse of a palm tree?” he asked with a little bit of laughter in his tone.

“Who me? No, No why would i??” i said a bit too rushed

“Maybe because you sneaked out this morning” I wasn't expecting for him to call me out like that but he was right, i felt embarrassed and i didnt want him to see me. 

“yeah um i'm sorry?” i didn't know if apologizing would make the situation better but i tried anyway, 

His gaze lingered a little too long before he left a subtle laugh “Yeah it's good I ran into you, you forgot this Pixie..”i didn't have time to dwell on the fact he called me Pixie just like he moaned last nice with a few other choice of words because he was already pulling out the same lace pair of panties i was wearing  when i entered his room last night from his front pocket.. “Didn't want you to lose them so I kept them safe.” 

All the blood in me crept onto my cheeks and I can confidently say that I wasn't blushing anymore, I was bleeding red. I realized what was happening and in one quick move I snatched the panties from his hand. 

You're probably wondering how I got here? Well, I'll have to relieve the last 72 hrs for you to understand, so here i go!

It all started when I arrived here, this wasn't a vacation per say but I did plan on having the most fun I could before I had to go back to boring reality back home. My best friend from childhood was getting married this weekend. She had chosen to get married at the beach, which was great for me. I loved the tropical weather and I could enjoy a bit more tanning. 

The first time I saw him I was laid in a lounge chair by the pool. I was grabbing the the book i was reading in one hand and a glass of lemonade on the other, i saw walk in front of me and walk around the edge of said pool to reach the other side, he was with what assume to be his friends, i vaguely remember thinking how i did have Maid of Honor duties to fulfill but not until later that night so stayed a little too long in my spot.

I saw how his colorful tattoos shined under the water with the sun hitting them. he had a little bun of hair on the top of his, and he seem to be just about the tallest man i ever seen, The most gorgeous brown that have ever crossed paths with me, 

He seemed like a lot of fun, and started from my seat. I was wearing sunglasses and half of them covered my face. I thought I was being cautious and not obvious but when he turned to look my way an almost hazy took over me.

Luckily he wasn't looking at me, he was looking at one of his friends that was passing by me going towards him.

I didn't want to seem like a creep so I decided to just get up and go back into my room. I would be lying if I thought he was very attractive but way out of my league but I probably would never see him again so why even bother thinking such a thing. 

The second encounter was by the bar just down the street of the hotel. I probably shouldn't have drank anything before the wedding but I fear I was more nervous than the actual bride. I wanted to take a shot or two before I had to be back to get ready. i sat at one end of the bar when i saw him reaching the other end, he sat down and other his drink,

He was alone this time, i tried not look his way as the bartender put my vodka soda in front of me and maybe i was being paranoid but i could sense his eyes on me, I pulled out my cell phone from my phone and decided to scroll just so i could have something to do and not look dumb. After about of 10 minutes i decided it was time to go i paid for my drinks at headed, 

Once again this was the last time i would probably see him but was i so wrong, 

The wedding had started and everything was going to plan. The music started playing and as the maid of honor I made my way down the aisle to stand by the sidelines. As my best friend walked down the most beautiful princess and the emotions started to come afloat I saw him once again. He was sitting in the 3rd row of chairs. 

My eyes grew wide, I didn't know why I felt the tension, I haven't even crossed words with him once so it was a bit dumb for me to feel this way. I couldn't run so I was just still until the ceremony had ended, But i could tell even by the side of my eye that at that point he was looking at me with a small smile. 

After the beautiful ceremony and my sweat induced head we moved to where the location for the party would be.

I was having such a good time, I mingled amongst the guests, everything was going perfect and I couldn't be more happy for my best friend Bailey. I didn't want my social battery to run out and as the liquid in my glass, I made my way down to the bar. I ordered a vodka soda and as I reached for it and turned around I nearly fell on my ass, I bumped into someone and it almost made my drink spill on my dress. I didn't pay attention to who was standing in front of me as I was trying to clean with my hands the small droplets that did manage to land on my dress.

“If i didn't know any better i would think you are stalking me” i heard a  voice.

“what..? i don't even know who..” as i looked up to meet his eyes i saw who exactly it was “are…” my voice started to windle down.

“3 times in the span of 48 hours seems like a very unlikely crazy coincidence” 

“i don't know what you mean” i tried to stay confidently 

“3 times, darling, 1. by the pool, 2. at the bar down the street this morning and 3. this wedding” he must sense the sheer panic and embarrassment in my eyes “you know i'm just kidding right?” he let out a soft laugh. 

“...yeah, yeah of course!” I said with a shaky laugh.

“if were going to keep running into each other it's best i introduce my self, Im Noah”

“im y/n”

“pretty name for a pretty girl”

“Uh thanks” I didn't know where to look. I was a bit shocked to actually be talking to him.

“So Maid of honor huh?” he asked intrigues.

“Yeah me and the bride we go way back, weve been bestfriends for years” i said preparing to ask him a question, “and you? Who do you know from here?” 

“The groom, we have worked together a few times” he replied back.

“So you're in the music industry, do you like sound tech or something?” i asked 

He stared at me as if i was saying something so out of the box “Not exactly, i'm in a band, and the groom has helped me and band out a lot”

“Ah that makes sense”

We decided to move our conversation over to the table where the rest of his band mates were seated. it scared me a bit how natural the conversation flowed. I was having a really good time with him and the night was almost coming to an end.

By this time both the bride and groom had already left and retreated back to their room, the only people left were the waiter cleaning up the mess and Noah and I. 

“So do you maybe want to go back to my room and chill for a bit..i mean if you would like of course” he asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes,

I hesitated for a bit, but after a moment I thought nothing wrong could go bad. 

“yeah sure that sounds great” 

We walked down the long hallways of the hotel to catch the elevator, we both knew there was a sexual tension between us and as soon as the doors closed to start ascending the correct floor, his lips were on mine. A sweet slow passionate kiss, where his tongue andmine where dancing in unison

The elevator door couldn't open fast enough, and a brief second we were already outside his door. He struggled to get his key card out of his pocket and as soon as the door he led me over to his bed. He laid me down while he balanced his wight on top of mine 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked 

All i could do was nod, I was too far in and too intrigued on his bedroom skills to say no.

He took over my mouth once more, another kiss, this one more chaotic and wild then the last. He started to slowly pull down the straps of my dress while I in a frantic motion fought to get his pants unbuttoned. 

Clothes started to fly around the room, my dress flew on the floor while my lace panties and bra ended on the side table. His button down shirt somehow made its way on top of the lamp that was sitting on the table in front of the bed, his pants and belt landing with a loud thud on the floor.

And just like that we were both naked. lost in the heat of the moment, Once his lips left mine, he started to leave a trail of tiny kisses from my jawline, down my neck, through the valley of my breast. He made a little pit stop at my navel to situate himself between my legs. Once he did so he picked right up where he left off. 

He overlooked my core to also kiss the inner part of my thighs. I was already high due to his touch. He locked down at my core and looked like the most starved man on earth about to eat a full course meal. 

“Pretty pink pussy darling, and you're already so wet” he said as he licked his lips “may i?” 

Once again all I could do was nod. He dove in and once his tongue made contact with my click and a sweet little moan escaped from my mouth. He lapped a few more times at my pussy before he detached  and sent me into oblivion with his fingers. One finger in, slowly taking it in and out, two fingers in, he started to increase the pace of what he was doing. 

He reached just the right spot a few more times of thrusting in and out. 

“ Noah oh god i'm gonna…” I said in almost a whisper.

“No no no Pixie you're not gonna cum until I tell you to, understood?’ 

“yees”

In one swift motion he turned me around, I was now on all four and waiting for his next move. I heard the sound of a condom wrapper opening. and from what i could tell he rolled it on this cock with ease. 

“hold on tight darling” 

All I could grab was the pillow beside. He did not give me any sort of warning in a matter of seconds he was inside of me. Thrusting in full force. All I could think of unironically was the song Closer by Nine Inch Nails in my head; because what the song was describing was what Noag was doing to me. Fucking me like an animal.

Fast paced, hazy eyes and the smell of raw contact. He slowed down only to catch his breath.

“ah ah Noah..” the moans were escaping my mouth, unable to control them. “It feels so good.”

:”Pixie you're so tight.. So fitting… sooo” Once final thrust in and we were both seeing stars. 

He collapsed on top of me while we both tried to catch our breaths. It was the most exhilarating and mind blowing orgasm that i have had. 

We took a small 15 minute break to hydrate and decompose before we were at it again. By the 3rd round i was so exhausted in the best way possible that i knew come the morning it would hurt to move. The ache of my muscles started to set in and as we laid there naked and vulnerable, My eyes started to close slowly and I succumbed to sleep , no longer fighting it.

By the time I had woken up the sun had already risen, I took notice of my surroundings, slowly taking my gaze through the room until they landed on the spot on the bed next me. 

There he laid asleep covered with a simple white sheet from his waist down, His tattoos brighter than i've seen them the last 3 days. Panic set in my gut, when I looked at my own body, I was completely naked. I scrambled to get off the bed and look for my clothes. I found my dress and my bra but nowhere insight into where my panties would be. I didn't want to wait around for Noah to wait up and kick me out of his room, so I put on what I did find and took my heels in my hand and slowly and quietly made my way to my room. 

Now fast forward to this afternoon where I was face to face again with him. 

“thanks for keeping them… safe.. you know?” i sad blushing and putting them in my purse

“No problem darling, i have a feeling this won't be the last time we run into each other” he said walking away only to turn around in a moment and wink at me. 

I couldn't help but let out a little laugh because I too believed this wasn't going to be the last time we would cross paths..

[sunny374940]

You are safe with me

Hi, back on my emmrook bullshit again. What if Rook convinced Emmrich to try babywearing? Would there be happy tears? Quite likely, where Emmrich is concerned.

Guys, pspsps @lavender-tea-fling, @mercars-musings, @spinfins, @starfleetteddybear, @redheadsramblings, @sorrowsfallallaround

Here on ao3, here's the rest of my many stories.

“Rook, I really don't think this is going to work.”

“You're worrying too much, Emmrich, you're gonna be fine.”

Rook was wrapping him in some kind of a fabric contraption and the sheer length of the thing was mind-boggling. Around the chest, to the back and across the shoulders, the ends of it trailing along the floor and this was a lot more complicated than it looked when Rook did it.

“But you have much more experience with this than I do.”

“Yeah, by like two weeks? Come on, she's your daughter too now, you can do this.”

Daughter. It still stunned him to think of the girl like that. It had been a mere week since Rook brought Elanora into their home and while there had been some issues in figuring out diapers and food for her, she fit into their family rather well. And Manfred simply adored her, though that was unsurprising, given that he was the embodiment of curiosity and what was a baby, if not curious.

“Let's go, Ellie, up you get.”

Rook picked her up from the rug where she'd been playing and started stuffing her down the piece of fabric across Emmrich’s chest so they were facing each other. She fixed him with an inquisitive look. This wasn't the usual arrangement and she seemed to be wondering where they were going with all this. Rook was hard at work finishing the tie, leaving the pair of them watching each other. Emmrich hoped dearly that this wouldn't make her cry.

“And you tuck it between the two of you like this, so she doesn’t fall out… and then those long bits cross under her butt and you tie them at your back. And spread these out so it doesn't cut into her legs. And done.”

Rook stepped away, looking satisfied with his work. Ellie was sitting in the wrap, snug against Emmrich’s ribcage, and he found himself afraid to breathe too deeply for fear of hurting her tiny body, though she didn't seem to mind. Her legs were poking out from the knees down, wrapped around his sides and she was kicking them contentedly. She folded her arms against his chest, making a cooing sound, and perhaps this wasn’t so bad?

“There, bug, wasn’t that easy?” Rook asked and it appeared that Ellie realized that there actually might be a problem with this. She wasn’t where she was supposed to be, which was on Rook's chest, and she started fussing. Emmrich tensed in response, which made her try to push herself away from him and she was trying to wriggle out of the damnable wrap and this wasn't working, he'd known it wouldn't and now he was making her upset-

“Hey, hey, it's alright, bug. Where's your bunny?”

Rook sat the toy on Emmrich's shoulder, and she forgot that she was annoyed, reaching for the little crocheted rabbit to wave it around with a giggle. Emmrich let out a breath of relief. And now that he tried it they could be done with it and get her out again. But Rook seemed to have different plans.

“Let's go outside before she realizes,” Rook whispered to him, taking his hand and dragging him out the front door. Emmrich knew that there would be no arguing with him now and allowed himself to be led outside.

Walking around with a baby strapped to his chest like this was certainly a novel experience. They decided to take a stroll along the river and Emmrich kept fidgeting with the fabric, worried that Ellie would fall out somehow. But what if he was cutting off her circulation? Could he tell? He checked her feet for the eighth time and they were still wiggling and warm, so she probably wasn’t in imminent danger of losing a limb, but he would definitely have to check again soon. A soft chuckle drew him away from his worrying.

“You're overthinking it, love. Look at her, she's happy.”

Emmrich glanced down and she did seem happy. Watching their surroundings with round eyes, so interested in every little thing. It was truly marvelous how she found wonder everywhere. She was still holding onto the bunny, shaking it occasionally, which made its head bobble and it surprised her into giggles every time. Emmrich let out a soft laugh at her antics, making her look up. She gave him that wide toothless smile and he was so full of joy at the sight that some of it escaped through his eyes.

“I think you might be right, darling,” Emmrich said, wiping at the tears, and Rook gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“You're such a sap,” Rook said, giving him that bright smile he so adored and yes, he was a sap. And he would never stop being one at this rate, since all his dreams of family just kept coming true lately and he hardly knew what to do with himself. He squeezed Rook's hand back and added a kiss to his temple for good measure.

They kept walking for a while, before they ended up on the riverbank, watching a family of ducks float about. They'd been there for quite some time, because Ellie protested every single time they tried to leave. The ducks were very interesting.

“Hey, Emmrich,” Rook suddenly whispered.

“Yes?” Emmrich, of course, whispered too.

“She's asleep. You did it!”

Emmrich looked at Ellie and she was indeed sleeping peacefully. She'd turned her face to rest a cheek against his chest and for a moment he was worried that he would wake her with the way his heart started thundering. She felt safe enough with him to fall asleep right there and how was he supposed to stay calm in the face of that? He turned back to Rook, who was watching them with a very pleased expression.

“See? You're gonna be a great dad,” he said, as if it was something mundane, as if his whole world hadn't been upturned by the presence of one little girl.

“Thank you, darling. I'm honored to be a father to her alongside you.”

[velidewrites]

Do the Vanbros have a favorite childhood memory?

EXCELLENT ask. It's new lore time (sorry in advance)

Sylas will never admit it, but he remembers following Eris around as a child. He remembers seeing Eris as his older brother, someone so strong and impressive and fierce who'd promised to always protect him. He remembers young Eris leaving the Forest House to go on hunts, and he remembers sneaking out to run after him, eyes wide and bright, desperate to be just like him. He remembers, but he won't let himself think about it -- about any of it. Has not thought about it in centuries, for fear that Eris might suddenly become something more than what he is now. An enemy. An obstacle. A target. Sylas only thinks about Beron telling him he's weak, weaker than Eris, a disappointment. Another failure of a son. A wasted opportunity, a hope a father had harbored for nothing. Maybe, if he proves he's stronger than Eris, Beron will change his mind. But, just look at him. Sylas can practically hear the discontentment hissing through Beron's teeth. He could never defeat his older brother. Sylas has never even managed to defeat his own raging magic, and he's got the scars to prove it.

Marcel remembers nothing. Too many years of his life had been spent in the Forest House under Beron's close watch to remember anything that had happened prior. Marcel remembers the torture, the near-silent whispers of incantations Beron had found in the Middle. Magic aimed to steal, to take, to conquer. Marcel remembers the forceful pull of Beron's magic against his own, the agonizing pain of a High Lord's command to surrender the smoke so that he may claim its power for himself. He remembers praying to the Mother, the Cauldron, the Forgotten Gods, to just give it to him and let the pain slip away. He remembers losing faith in all of them. He remembers his mind crumbling thought by thought, scar by scar, until nothing good remained. If it had, he might have remembered being born shortly before the War. He might have remembered Beron hardly being around during his early childhood, and the nightmares the staff's stories about the battles ahead would give him. He might have remembered falling asleep to a gentle, crackling fire, and the small children's book in Eris's hands. His brother's quiet voice reading him stories about the animals living in Autumn's beautiful, golden forests, the very image lulling him to sleep.

Vermilion did not have a happy childhood. He remembers wandering the empty halls of the Forest House, haunted only by the ghost his mother had become. She was always so sad -- so lifeless, the russet of her eyes like decaying Autumn leaves, giving way to a piercing, ruthless winter. He remembers trying to make her laugh, if only so that her eyes might light up and Autumn might last a little bit longer. And he did, sometimes. Those precious seconds are what he holds onto today, when he visits the House for formal events as Beron's perfect emissary, and the look she gives him is no different than that of the ghost's. So no, he didn't have a happy childhood, but all that changed with one equinox -- the one event his mother had been allowed to leave the House to attend. Vermilion, a very young adult now, knew then; she was still in there, buried somewhere too deep for Ver to uncover. A few months later, he sees that russet sparkle again -- but it's no longer held in his mother's eyes. Lucien's birth had changed everything, and Autumn was back in Vermilion's life, putting an end to the years of unforgiving winter. He swore, then, that this russet light, he would never let die out. Lucien would be his to protect, his to love, his to show his mother that being Vanserra has never meant a thing to Vermilion. And so he did -- he took Lucien everywhere, snuck the teenage little rake in to taverns, brothels, and hunts, balls and galas where they'd place bets on which highborn lady would go home with either of them first. And when, one hunt, Lucien took home Jesminda, Vermilion had never seen that spark burn brighter. It is the failure of his life that Vermilion was the one to kill it. He remembers holding Lucien down, the hot tears of his brother staining his jacket, Lucien's still-weak fire burning Vermilion's skin. But he didn't relent. It had to be done. But now, Vermilion wonders -- was the death of that spark worth it if all it left behind is another ghost?

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 36

ISAT and Two Hats spoilers below! CW: Mentions of Death, Fear of Mortality.

Gotta be honest, not suuuper happy about this chapter, but it's at a point where I'm okay with it and I just kinda need it out of the way so I can move on with the rest of the fic.

(Siffrin) |Isabeau|

"You... You died? Like really actually died?..." (Isa asked with a mortified look, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth as you explain the events of the last loop.)

"Y-Yeah... Vale saw me, just lying there... and I... I saw something weird after... something I'm scared might have been real." (You continue your story. You hated putting this burden on him, but having to explain this to everyone else would be too much for you to handle right now. You sit alone together in your tent once more as Vale went off to have a moment to themself before the bomb dropped.)

"Saw something? Like... like after you died?" (You respond with a hesitant nod.) "... Was that why you woke up like that?" (You nod again, taking a deep breath before you continue.)

"... I saw the island... I saw the King... I started to remember it all, everything... it all vanished when I woke up but... I didn't want it! I didn't want any of it! Not if it meant I'd lose all of you!" (You realize you've started shouting again a little too late, feeling tears pouring down your face again before Isa grips you in a tight hug to help calm you.)

"Shhhh, it's okay Sif. It's gone, we're all here, you haven't lost us, and we haven't lost you." (He sighs out, you can tell he was saying it for his own sake as much as he was for yours. You grip back tighter and nuzzle close.)

"I love you Isa..."

"I love you too Sif." (He replies in kind before gently kissing the top of your head.)

"Uhm... Siffrin? Isabeau? Is everything okay?" (Mira's voice calls through the thin tent walls. You figure you got a bit too loud...)

------------------------------------------------

(You mumble and grumble under your hat as you hug yourself in your cloak, forming a make shift little tent out of the two while secluded in the larger tent, and still it didn't feel like enough to cover your shame. You made Isa do your dirty work again... you're such a coward... No! No, that's not true. Isa offered, he knows you're going through a lot and is happy to help. Stop being so hard on yourself, it's okay to need help! You mentally shout at yourself, trying to practice better self talk like you learned so long ago.)

(You decide to make better use of your time, digging out the little bird plush you were crafting for Isa and going back to work on it, softly mumbling your little request to the universe.) "Please be cute, please be cute, please be cute."

---------------------------------------------------

|You sit in the middle tent with Odile and Mira as you fill them in on everything in slightly hushed tones.|

"What do you mean it wasn't him that looped?" |Odile raises a brow, you can see all the various theories in her head shattering and reforming into new ones from that single statement.|

"I mean just that... Vale said they saw Sif... y'know... and they looped shortly after. Sif was talking about a dream he had during it, said it felt real, said he saw the island, the king, started remembering stuff... I don't see why Vale would lie about something like that, and from how shaken up Sif was, I think that was more than just a dream..."

"B-But then what does that mean?! Why wouldn't Siffrin be looping anymore?!" |Mira asks in a panic, while Odile just silently thinks to herself, hand on her chin.|

"I don't know... But with any luck Odile will have it figured out by the next bar we reach!" |You tease to help relieve the tension, causing Mira to snort in a laugh and Odile to give a slightly annoyed smirk.|

"You're really never going to let that go, are you?"

"Nope! Besides, as important as this is to figure out, we still have our plan set. We get to Bambouche, then we start to figure all this out. Right now we just gotta try and be there for them, the both of them. That means no bombarding them with questions about all this right now, okay m'dame?" |You give a playfully stern look at her with a waggle of your finger. She lets out a laugh before sighing.|

"Fine, fine. You're right, not a good idea to interrogate someone in a crisis anyways."

"What about Bonnie? Are we just going to keep this a secret from them?"|Mira asks, not liking the idea. Before you can respond the tent flap shifts, letting light pour in past a small silhouette. You sigh softly.|

"I was gonna say it's not like we could if we tried... You heard everything, didn't you Bonnie?" |They step inside from the light, their face twisted in a mix of emotions but clearly trying to fight it all back, wanting to seem grown up. They give a little nod.| "You okay?..." |They hesitate before nodding a bit heavier, still trying to act tough. You place a hand gently on their back.| "We're gonna figure this all out, and Sif's gonna be okay, I promise!"

"Do you want me to help you make breakfast, Bonnie? I'm sure Siffrin will feel better about all of this after a meal!" |They sniffle and nod, wiping the slight tears they were fighting so hard to keep back.|

[blackcatxmagic]

Sure enough, Copper didn't need Dorothy to reply; he could tell she appreciated the words, and there was a sort of understanding that passed between them. It wasn't always easy to talk about the hard things, and it was even harder to find someone who could fully empathize, so Copper was just appreciating this unexpected connection.

It troubled Copper to hear Dorothy talk about how Cardinal Hill had changed. Until now, he'd kind of wondered if maybe it had just always been like this, and he wasn't used to it yet. After all, this was a town full of witches, so it was to be expected that things wouldn't be so surprising for it to always feel a little...well, spooky here. But to know it hadn't always been like that bothered him, and Copper felt a sense of unease prickling at his skin, as if suddenly he wasn't alone. It was a familiar feeling, that sense of being watched, but it was different now. It was almost like Copper felt as though surrounded by some sinister presence. Usually when he felt this way, it was more like someone watching him through a window or from a dark corner, but this felt like they were standing right in front of him, openly stalking him. And it felt less like a person was stalking him and more like a powerful force. It made him shudder, and Copper hoped that Dorothy wouldn't notice.

Even though this conversation was terrifying, Copper felt a little bit better in a way because he felt more stable, at least mentally speaking. Now he knew he wasn't losing his mind, that something was going on, so he felt a little more like he could trust his feelings. "It feels...dangerous," Copper said, voice shaking a little. "I feel like we're on the precipice of something terrible, and it doesn't help that I keep drawing Death and The Tower." Both of those cards weren't always bad, and Death in particular generally didn't actually mean death. But they both meant something major was about to happen, a transformation or change, and that change was sometimes cataclysmic, especially in the case of The Tower. "Today I drew Death, The Tower, and the V of Cups," Copper told Dorothy, "and I don't know if you know anything about tarot, but...that's not great." Again Copper laughed, though there was still no humor in it; like Dorothy, Copper felt like he had to laugh. If he didn't, he might fall apart completely. He was barely keeping it together now.

"It's okay," Copper replied. "Maybe I should be a little scared. Sometimes fear keeps you safe." Copper had never felt like being fearless was a good thing - you could respect your fear while not letting it rule you, though the jury was out on if he was actually doing that. Fear had compelled him to flee his home and move across the country, after all. "It can't be just us, but is it every witch, every resident, or just specific people?" Copper wondered. "And if it's just witches or just specific people, why? Why us? Maybe it's only people with...well, things in their past they'd rather leave, you know, in the past." Copper couldn't know if Dorothy had any skeletons in her closet, but Copper knew he did; his closet felt like it was full to bursting.

He thought about what Dorothy asked, why they were the ones being affected, and he wished he had an answer. "I think everyone has secrets," Copper said. "And I feel like the person doing this has to know them. The questions is how? And why? What do they want from us?" Copper didn't have a lot of answers, but he thought he did to what Dorothy asked next, kind of at least: "I don't think we're meant to understand it," he responded, "not yet at least. I don't think we're meant to know right now. But eventually...I think we will. Eventually our past is going to come for us." And then Copper shuddered again.

Dorothy appreciated Copper's words. She had a lot of comforting presences in her life, fortunate enough to have a loving partner, and a close family, even if they had their flaws like most others; despite this, Dorothy had left so much unspoken - more than she could even process and understand herself - and so to have Copper speak words that almost perfectly consoled her in the case of some of those unspoken struggles meant a lot to her. As much as they meant to her, however, Dorothy felt as though there was no adequate reply. She had a feeling that Copper would understand.

"I've been here my whole entire life, Cardinal born and raised, and it's never been like this," she explained as Copper confirmed her suspicion: that he hadn't been in town for an overly long time. "I mean, I was away for college, but even still, I visited home, you know? And it's just... Nothing in town has ever felt like this before, it feels so..." Dorothy was almost beginning to grow frustrated at herself as she struggled to find the right words. "It feels twisted, dark."

Dorothy had thought that she was losing her mind, too. It was no secret that her life hadn't been without struggle, and so it wasn't the most far-fetched theory for someone like her to have. Particularly as someone who battled with secrets, Dorothy had honestly been afraid that it might have all built up until she cracked. "What are the odds that the only two people it's happening to have met to speak about it?" She questioned, backing Copper's theory that it had to be happening to more people out there. "It doesn't make sense for it to be a coincidence, but it also doesn't make sense for it to be this isolated. Surely it's happening to all of the witches, if not a lot of us..." she almost trailed off in though. This wasn't happening to the humans too, was it? Suddenly an even stronger fear rose up inside of her. Was Elias safe?

"I'm sorry," Dorothy had to laugh, too. If she didn't laugh, she would only keep on crying, and the last thing she wanted to happen was for word to get around that Dorothy Prior was crying her eyes out in the middle of town. "I didn't mean to scare you, it only made sense," she wasn't going to backtrack and take back what she had said, though she did admittedly feel a little bad about suggesting it. "It would, but not an impossible amount of power," her heart picked up speed as she continued to think about it, discuss it.

"But why?" Was all Dorothy could ask. "I don't understand, what have we done?" Evil existed in the world, and after studying forensic science, Dorothy knew that it wasn't impossible for someone to act violently without motive, but even so, it hardly made sense. You could almost always give reason to heinous acts, even if only barely, and Dorothy couldn't think of any good reason for the whole of the town to suffer. It wasn't like everyone had secrets like her own... "It doesn't make sense. How can you stop something that you can't even understand?" She dabbed her teary eyes with the napkin again.

[mechawolfie]

so initially jericho was like an alternate eden as I hadn't made a trigun version of eden yet but now that I have I'm just gonna go wild w jerichos character now. anyway I've decided he IS a little freak hes an insect that was cut off from the hivemind somehow & was adopted by a girl as her little brother

still keeping him working as a plant scientist to walk in her footsteps in the present day however I hate it when girls die so I'm considering an alternative to her fate like maybe she had to move away or smth..

[neverendingford]

.

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Kafka

[thegreatestheaver]

still reeling from an awful hallucination I had last night at like 5am what the fuck was that

[misteria247]

I think one of the most tragic things is Caryn Pines and motherhood.

Like when we see her, it's quite obvious that she loves her sons. And that like many families, has a soft spot for Stanley. Because he's the possible baby of the family, her little surprise, her free spirit. Out of everyone other than Ford, Caryn was someone who loved Stanley. And who was in his corner. An example of this was when her husband and Ford were excited about the school and she immediately cut in to ask-

"What about Stanley?"

Just from that little bit we can see that she loves him. That she's always thinking of her son. So imagine you're her, and then you lose your son because your husband kicked him out. A teenager who can't face the world yet, and yet you're powerless to do anything. So you have to wait for your boy to reach out to you, and every day you wonder if he's somewhere safe. If he's someplace warm, and if he's eating a hot meal and sleeping in a warm bed. And for awhile that gives you some sort of comfort, because your baby's still out there somewhere. Not with you, but still in this world.

And then you hear about it.

The firey car crash.

And the person in that inferno was your son. Your free spirit, your baby.

Can you imagine, how devastating that'd be? To learn that your son is dead, and had died alone and in pain and fear. And the kicker?

There wasn't even a funeral held for him.

It's almost as if Stanley never existed. Like he was never important. And that probably ate at Caryn Pines in ways that cut deeply. Because Stanley was important to her, was important to Stanford and now he's gone and she didn't even get to say goodbye to her boy. She'll forever have a hole in her heart, a piece missing because her Stanley is gone. And she'll never be able to fill it because no one can replace her baby. And we don't know if Caryn's still alive or not, so there's the horrifying possibility. That she died believing that Stan was dead. That she died in her grief that only a mother can feel. That she died, unaware that the boy she grieved for was next to her the entire time. Forced to pretend to be his brother, in order to save him from his own creation and fix mistakes that he believes he made that hurt Ford.

So close to her son, yet so far away.

A tragedy.

[unintentionalseductress]

LADS Men With a Plus Size Reader

Warnings: None! This is actually very fluffy! Maybe PG13 at most! (OMG NCS, no smut?!😲😲😲) A/N: Finally, got around to writing one of the promised headcanons! Now, allow me to be clear here. The amount of customization the game allows is incredible but MC is a little bit on the smaller side, and I would have loved to see an option for a more robust body build. The same way there are naturally thin and petite women, there are also bigger and more rounded women as well and I think there was an opportunity lost there. Anyone that tries to hate on this will be blocked immediately.

Zayne:

Zayne’s large hand envelopes yours as you walk to the cafe he’d recommended. You knew it was popular amongst the hospital staff and weren’t surprised to see familiar faces; one of the tables was completely occupied by some of Zayne’s surgical nurses. 

“Why don’t you get a table?” Zayne brushes a kiss on top of your hair. “And I’ll get the food. Do you still want a hazelnut latte with your cake?”

“Yes please!” Zayne’s eyes fill with warmth as he squeezes your hand before walking towards the cashier. You wander over and pick a table near the nurses. You take out your phone and start to browse Instagram when a snide voice is heard from the table behind you. 

“Gross.”

You freeze but don’t dare turn around. Maybe it wasn’t directed at you. 

“That’s Dr. Zayne’s girlfriend?”

Shit it was.

“Why is he with that porker?”

“You’d think a man like that would have better taste.”

“I heard that they were childhood friends. He’s probably dating her out of pity.”

Even as your blood rages, you feel tears pricking the backs of your eyes. Were they aware you could hear them? And they had just said your worst fears out loud; that Zayne was dating you as a favor, not because he was actually into you. It was an old insecurity you hadn’t really grown out of. You startle slightly as Zayne suddenly sits down opposite you, food and beverages in hand. He sets down your coffee and cake while taking his own plate and tea off the tray.

“Why are you so upset?” He immediately observes the distress on your face and the way your eyes are glistening. You shake your head and dab at your eyes with a napkin, Zayne watching you intently. The cute slice of cake he’s gotten for you sits temptingly in line with your vision but right now it might as well be a lump of clay, all appetite for it gone. 

Zayne’s eyes flick to the cake and back to you. “Did I get the wrong one?”

You’re about to shake your head no when the conversation at the table behind you picks up again. Clearly, they hadn’t noticed Zayne sitting down. 

“He deserves so much more than that blob. There are so many attractive women at the hospital.”

“I agree. He could get anyone he wanted. Someone who actually takes care of their health and watches their figure.”

Shame fills you and you’re unable to look at Zayne in the eyes, knowing he had heard them, even though you know it was far from the truth. You ate all your vegetables and exercised frequently. But your body just refused to slim down no matter what you did. No matter how much you tried to lose weight, the weight just didn’t want to lose you. You’re about to get up and leave when Zayne speaks up, loud and clear, in a scathing tone. 

“Right, because weight is the only indicator of a person’s health, isn’t it?” Zayne’s words drip with sarcasm. 

The entire nurses’ table jumps at his voice, turning around to look at him.

“Oh, Dr. Zayne! We weren’t-”

“I don’t care what you weren’t doing. Do not talk about anyone that way, patient or not. Were you not taught compassion as part of your medical training? Or is it reserved for people who look a certain way?” His eyes are narrowed and the table looks tense. One by one the nurses start to get up, quietly murmuring apologies to him as they exit the cafe. 

Zayne watches them go, anger still visible in his eyes before turning his attention back to you. His hand covers yours on top of the table. “Are you all right?”

You sniff. “I try. You know I try. I cook all my meals. I exercise. We work out together. But I can’t get the weight to go away.” 

“No sweetheart. I know how much you take care of yourself.” Zayne reaches across the table to wipe your tears. “You do not have to lose any weight. You’re perfectly healthy, and as long as that’s clear, nothing else matters.”

“You’re not dating me out of pity?” You look at him uncertainly. 

“Pity?” Zayne chuckles in disbelief. “Darling when you first started coming to my office I was sure you were out of my league.” His thumb strokes your hand reassuringly.

“You’re so amazing. Talented, compassionate, considerate. And all those things will always matter more to me than anything else.”

He looks at your neglected slice of cake. “Now don’t take out your sadness on the dessert. If you don’t finish it in 5 minutes, it’s mine.”

Rafayel:

You grip your wrap firmly around your shoulders, stepping with grace into the dazzling venue. You never missed Rafayel’s shows if you could help it but this time around, you had a skin in the game. Literally.

One night after a round of passionate lovemaking, you had woken to find Rafayel painting, and when you saw what he was working on, you’d blushed and smacked him on the shoulder.

There, in the brush strokes, he had painted you sleeping on his bed, your hair in disarray as it cascaded down your back, your face buried into the pillow and not quite visible. The sheets covered you modestly but the wide curve of your hips, the pudges of fat at your side, and the bra rolls under your arms were all painted with clarity and you found you couldn’t look at it. A feeling of unease had settled in your stomach. Was this the way your boyfriend viewed you?

You had brought it up to Rafayel in a small voice. “Do you think I’m fat?”

Your heart sank as Rafayel’s face, which had been so soft, a curve in his lips as he had painted, changed into a mask of dismay. “Fat?” he had asked, looking quite upset. “Where in this painting have I made you look fat?”

“Here. And here.” You point out the areas and Rafayel pulls you against him, holding you fiercely. 

“Cutie, I swear to God I’m just painting you as you are. I don’t think you look fat at all. I’m just painting my beautiful girlfriend in all her glory.” Crushed against his chest, you try to talk. 

“But, most women in paintings don’t look like that, they have smaller hips and thighs and mine look so…ugly.”

You thought Rafayel’s heart might have broken as he heard your word of choice. “There’s nothing about you that’s ugly. None of this is ugly. It’s a body. Your body. And baby I love every inch of it exactly as it is. I didn’t mean to make you sad while I painted all the pretty little pieces of you that make you whole.” His hands trace your sides, squeezing you reassuringly. 

“There’s so much beauty in you baby. That’s all I see in this painting. You’ll always be the biggest masterpiece in my life.”

Knowing he held you in such high esteem had done wonders for your confidence, which was what you were trying to emulate as you walked into the gallery. Rafayel had hesitantly asked for your permission to showcase that painting for this show, promising he’d never use it without your consent. Nervous as you were, part of you was actually thrilled that it was going to be used. It was difficult to make out who the subject in the portrait was since your face wasn’t entirely visible. 

Still, it felt like an out-of-body experience as you approached the hung canvas, observing the crowd that flocked to it. Some people nodded at it quietly before moving on, others commented under their breath that Rafayel should have chosen a more appropriate model. 

“Can you imagine this woman being naked in his bed?” One of them asked and her friends snickered sycophantically. “He must have been drunk or something.”

“And why is that?” You turn in time to see Rafayel, dressed sharply in a couture outfit approach you and pull you to his side, his hand resting possessively on the jut of your hip. The woman backpedals.

“Mr. Rafayel! I mean, obviously, your work is unique but I can’t help but wonder what you might have been trying to convey when you painted someone with such a…heavy structure.”

Rafayel pretends to consider her words. “I suppose…people have different views on what beauty is. All I was trying to convey was how much I loved the person in the painting. Anyone that doesn’t see the beauty in this particular painting, well I’m afraid they have poor taste.”

Grinning at the affronted look on her face, Rafayel whisks you away, but not before you throw her a smug smirk over your shoulder. 

Sylus:

Who knew underground mafia bosses loved their parties as much as their money? As strange as it was, the cliques had started becoming familiar with you hanging around. Anytime Sylus was invited to a gathering, it was expected that you were his plus one. While most of the men entertained polite conversation with you, it was no secret how coveted Sylus was by the women in the N109 zone. 

They wrinkled their noses as you walked by, your head held high, knowing you shouldn’t let their words get to you but it was hard. You tell the bartender your order and put a $100 bill into the tip jar. After all, you couldn’t embarrass Sylus by handing out a miserly tip when he was supposed to be the richest man here.

You knew you looked good enough to kill; Sylus had chosen the gown you were wearing himself, even hiring a personal tailor to fit the dress to flaunt your best assets and a thick choker of diamonds glittered on your neck. The plunging V-line of the dress showed off a tempting display of creamy cleavage, the bodice of the dress pushing up your impressive bosom. The material crept over your belly and hips, your fupa visible a little more than you would have liked but Sylus had refused to hear otherwise. You remember the way his hands had caressed the bulge of fat after helping you zip up the gown, his low, contented, purr ringing in your ears.

“Kitten, you’re going to be every man’s envy tonight. How delightful that I get to flaunt you as mine.”  

A group of women, all model-thin and gorgeous, approach the bar, their cold eyes fixed on you, wearing smiles that could cut glass. Your fingers drum nervously on the counter as you try to ignore them. One of the women spies the tip you had put in and jerks her chin at you, her lips twisting into what looks like a sneer. 

“So Sylus has the money to let you throw around $100 bills into tip jars. I wonder…” She pauses and the group draws collectively closer like a cackle of hyenas. “Wouldn’t his finances be more wisely spent on other avenues?”

“Such as?” You ask carefully.

“A good plastic surgeon perhaps? Lord knows you could use some liposuction in more places than one.” Her entourage leers at you while covering their mouths to stifle their laughter.

Your back stiffens and your eyes widen in shock. You resist the urge to cover your middle. You knew you should have pushed harder to have the gown loosened. Your fupa, the soft squidge that bulged under the material of the dress…it was a mistake thinking you could attend a party with it showing up so obviously. 

A million retorts form in your head but they all die weakly on your tongue. You had no defense, and you felt pathetic that you were sitting here and taking their abuse but your mind felt frozen, like you couldn’t plan your next move. 

“How did you ever think that someone like you could pull off a dress like that?” The woman presses, her eyes boring into yours. Your pulse quickens as you try to find a way to escape.

“You’re right, she can’t pull off a dress like that.” A rich, deep voice answers the woman who pales as she sees Sylus drape his arm possessively around your shoulders. “It’ll wrinkle. That’s why I’ll be pulling it off for her as soon as we get home.”

His eyes flash scarlet as he signals to the bartender, who immediately starts pouring him a drink and expediting your cocktail, setting both glasses on coasters in front of you. You flush but try not to look too pleased as you take a sip, feeling the alcohol loosen you. 

“Mr. Sylus.” The woman’s voice changes immediately and she steps back. “We were just talking about fashion.” she fibs hastily, trying to cover up her reason for using the word ‘dress’.

“Fashion?” Sylus looks at her patronizingly. “Do tell.”

Caught, she wets her lips before saying, “Oh we were talking about jeans and how they never fit or have pockets-”

“Hmm. I can understand these problems. After all, jeans without pockets are like women without curves…there’s nowhere to put your hands.” His broad hand shifts to your hip, his fingers subtly signaling it is time for you to go. You pick up your glass and Sylus holds onto you firmly as you walk back to the crowd. 

Xavier:

You’re sweaty as you and Xavier walk back from the office gym to the locker rooms. Xavier drinks from his water bottle, swallowing zealously. “I think we’ve exercised enough for a whole week,” he says as you walk. You laugh and shake your head.

“We only did a half hour of cardio!”

“Yeah, but we lifted all those weights too! In fact, my muscles already feel stronger.” Xavier flexes his arm and a visible bicep forms, making you grin. 

“Oh so strong,” you say as you reach out to squeeze. Xavier winces slightly and you quickly withdraw. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok. I’m a little sore.” You reach the locker rooms.“I’ll wait for you outside.”

You nod and he disappears into the men's locker room. You wander into the women’s, undo the lock, and retrieve your bag, finding a stall to change your clothes. You peel off your damp leggings which stick to your plushy thighs and you drag them down, sighing in relief as the skin jiggles freely in the cool air after being stuffed in the heat of polyester for so long. 

The skin on your butt and stomach are dimpled, something you’d come to terms with. You recall how nervous you’d been to let Xavier see you in a bathing suit at the pool but now you barely glance at them. 

“It’s like your skin is smiling at me when I kiss it.” 

That’s what Xavier had said as he kissed the soft flesh lovingly. Who could possibly feel self-conscious after that analogy? As you fold away the sweaty clothes into a garment bag, you hear several of the other changing room doors open and a group of voices fills the locker room as you change. You normally wouldn’t have paid attention but you freeze when you hear Xavier’s name.

“Why do you think Xavier works out with her of all people?”

“I know! They workout together like almost everyday and she hasn’t lost any weight!”

“She probably lacks the discipline to go on a real diet. It doesn’t matter how much she exercises, that fat isn’t going to go away if she doesn’t eat healthier.”

“Xavier really needs to find a better workout buddy. She only slows him down.”

Your heart clenches in your chest as you hear the cruel commentary. How dare these women talk about your body like it was a source of entertainment for them? Both rage and sorrow fills you as you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. Suddenly all you can see are the flaws.

How cute, to call cellulite ‘dimpled skin’ like it was something to be adored. You stare at the lumpy skin, at the way your stomach and arms have stretch marks everywhere, the way your skin bulges over the band of your bra. You wait in silence as the women finish their chat and you hear them exit the locker room.

After what seemed like ages, you finally finish dressing and leave the changing room feeling humiliated. The post-workout glow had all but vanished from your system and you couldn’t shake off the feeling of being perceived like a huge, hulking, ogre; built big and lumberingly, not at all cute like the princess Xavier claimed you were. You leave the dressing room, then stare in disbelief as the same group of women crowd around Xavier as he waits for you. You lurk, not wanting to be seen, then one of the women speaks up.

“Xavier, if you’re looking for another workout buddy I’d be happy to tag along.” One of them chirps perkily.

Xavier chuckles politely and shakes his head. “Thank you, but no. I have a workout buddy.”

“Oh cmon Xavier, don’t you think you need someone who can challenge you a little more?”

“I do actually. That’s why I work out with her.”

“Does she really challenge you?”

“I think she challenges me more than you. Didn't you finish last in the company relay race?” The woman’s face falls and your heart skips a beat. 

“And you,” Xavier says as he turns to face another woman. “Forgive me if I’m wrong but you struggle to push anything more than 75 pounds. My workout buddy does 150 easily. She’s very strong. Perhaps you might benefit from training with her.” The second woman looks offended even as she’s being chastised. 

Feeling your confidence soar, you skip over to Xavier feeling as light as a feather. Xavier’s eyes light up as you approach. “Ladies,” you say smugly to their scandalized faces before pulling Xavier away from them, holding his arm as you walk away. 

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 12: Fire In My Veins

Summary: Your heat begins. Luckily you have a good alpha to take care of you during your most vulnerable time. 

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, knotting, spanking (it’s like once), fluids so many fluids, heat cycles, mating cycles, lots of talk of breeding and mating, biting, brief mention of blood, this is gross y’all, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff

A/N: It was quite the ordeal, this chapter, and it's come a long way from when I first wrote it between Sunday and Monday this week. It's pretty much just smut so enjoy!!

The smut starts after the first scene and goes to the end, so only read up to the first green line if you don’t want the smut. You’re not missing much, just Price biting the reader to claim her, but I’ll talk more about that in the next chapter.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“You alright, love?” 

You look up from where you had been staring at the floor, suddenly pulled back into the real world by Gaz’s voice. He had been organizing the nutrient bars and electrolyte bottles in your room while you sat and dissociated to the sound of rustling paper bags. 

You stare at his furrowed brows and worried eyes for a moment before averting your gaze with a nod. “Yeah.” 

The carpet under your feet has never looked quite so interesting before.

Gaz moves to sit next to you on the bed, sinking down onto the mattress with a sigh. “Nervous?” 

You nod in response, clutching the strawberry pillow in your arms tighter against your chest. 

“You’ll be alright.” Gaz says, his hand warm as it presses against your back. “I’m gonna take good care of you, yeah? Both you and Price. I’ll be right outside that door, and I’ll be in and out too. Dr. Keller’s ready in case something happens, but I don’t think anything will.” He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close against him. “You’re in good hands.” 

“There’s no going back after this.” You say, leaning into his side. 

“No, I don’t think any of us would want to anyway.” He smiles down at your surprised face. “What? I thought that was obvious. We all want you as part of our pack. You are part of the pack already, at least in every way but officially. None of us would trade you for anything.”

Your eyes fill with tears at his words. You know it’s just the stress and the hormones and the impending heat that could start at any time, but his words reach some deep part of you that was worried that they were all faking, that they all actually hated you. His words calm you a bit, easing away that stress and fear that you’ve been carrying for the last almost six weeks. 

“Come now, none of that.” Gaz says, wiping the tear that trails down your cheek. “Can’t afford getting dehydrated now.” 

You can’t help but laugh, even though you know he’s right. You’ve had so much liquid over the last couple days you feel as though you might burst at any second. It was necessary, considering the amount of fluid you were about to lose. 

Gaz leans down, kissing all over your face. You giggle, falling back on your bed to try and escape, but he follows you, continuing to plant little kisses all over your face and neck. 

“Kyle!” You shriek, giggling as his kisses tickle your skin. 

He pauses, leaning up so you’re eye to eye, a grin on his face. “You called me Kyle.” 

“That is your name, isn’t it?” You say, blinking up at him. 

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “You can call me Kyle as much as you’d like, love.” He says as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him in place as you kiss him back. His arm snakes beneath you, pressing you tightly against his chest. He groans quietly into your lips, body taught against yours. You can feel every part of him, the muscles under his shirt, the strength of his thighs. Your head is spinning, and you know it’s mostly due to your impending heat. 

You let out a quiet whine as his lips leave yours, trailing down your neck to your shoulder. He leaves a scalding kiss over your scent gland, nipping playfully at the sensitive skin. 

“Can’t wait to see the mark,” He murmurs against your skin, a quiet whimper leaving your lips as your body begins to warm a little. “When Price claims you, makes you his.” 

“Fuck.” You breathe, a shudder running through your whole body. 

Kyle chuckles, sucking a mark on your collarbone. “You won’t be just his, though, huh? Gonna be ours.” 

You let out a whine at his words, your fingers trailing up the back of his neck. He lets out a quiet groan, his body shuddering as you tease the sensitive skin. You feel lightheaded and dizzy from the rapidly shifting hormones of your pre-heat. You’re very close to the start. Any day now you could wake in a sweat with an insatiable ache between your thighs. You're like a ticking time bomb, but neither of the demolition experts you now live with can disarm you. 

If only it could be so easy. 

Kyle presses one last kiss to your lips before he pulls back, smiling down at you. “You’ll be alright. I’ll make sure of it.” 

You can’t help but believe him, especially with those big brown eyes staring down at you. 

It’s sweltering. A fire has started beneath your skin, flames licking your veins, your very cells scorching in the fiery inferno that has overtaken you. An arid desert has bloomed in your mouth, your tongue heavy and sticky. Sweat has slicked your skin, consciousness only bringing awareness to the dampness of your sheets and pajamas. 

It also brings awareness to the pain. 

There’s an intense ache between your legs, your pelvis cramping. Slick has coated your thighs, soaking through your pajama pants, the fabric clinging to your skin. It’s too much, the sensations of your pajamas and the weight of the blankets nearly driving you to insanity. You need to be bare. It’s too hot and the drag of the fabric across your skin makes you want to cry. 

Not to mention the intense need burning through you. 

The mattress protector crinkles as you shift on the bed, every movement taking an excess amount of energy as you attempt to tug your shirt off with fumbling fingers. It’s like you’re moving in slow motion, your arms heavy and sluggish as you peel the fabric from your sticky skin, letting it fall to the floor. You lay there exhausted, body twitching as your temperature begins to spike. You blindly reach out, fingers trembling as they grasp at your phone. Your eyes are bleary as you blink rapidly at the too bright screen. You fumble with clumsy fingers on the screen, dialing the first number you see, not caring who it is.

“Hello?” 

You let out a quiet whine at the rough voice, thick with sleep. You can’t get your mouth to move, to form any words as you lay there pathetically, half undressed and soaked in sweat and slick. There’s an ache between your thighs, pulsing in time with your heart. Your free hand fumbles with your waistband, desperate to try and get your pants down, to remove the feeling of your underwear sticking to your slick folds. 

“Help.” You manage a single word, not even sure it was intelligible. You let out a frustrated whimper, your body not cooperating to lift your hips so you can pull down your pants. 

A moment of silence passes before you get a response. “Fuck, be right there, love.” 

The line clicks, and a moment later a door is opening down the hall. You’re silently grateful you hadn’t locked your door last night, as there was no way you would be able to get out of bed and make it across the floor. It opens just enough for the figure to slip in before he closes it, not wanting to let your scent freely flow down the hallway. 

The light of the lamp on your nightstand accosts your eyes as it’s turned on, making you squint. You don’t miss the way Kyle’s nose crinkles for a moment as he catches the sickly sweet, overwhelming aroma of your scent as it pours from your body. His hand is cool against your forehead as he brushes the stray strands of hair sticking to your skin back. Johnny had braided it last night at least to try and keep it out of the way. 

“Easy.” He says quietly, shushing you as you whimper in need. 

You let out a whine as Kyle pushes the blankets out of the way. You’re incapable of caring that you’re half naked in front of him for the first time, and he pays it no mind. You tug uselessly at your pajama pants again, letting out a frustrated whine as you fail to shimmy them down your legs again. Kyle bats your hands away, slipping his fingers under the waistband and tugging the pants down your legs. You sigh in relief as the fabric is pulled away from your skin, a shiver running through you as the cool air hits your slicked folds. 

Kyle gathers your clothes, adding them into the bag of things that would need to be washed as soon as your heat is over before he returns to your side. 

“I need you to drink something for me, then I’ll go get Price, alright?” He says, kneeling down next to the bed as he grabs the electrolyte drink from your nightstand. 

You flop against his chest as he slips an arm around you, helping prop you up. Your face presses into his neck, inhaling deeply. A whine of disappointment leaves your lips as you realize he’s not what you need, your omega dissatisfied with the scent of beta emanating from him. 

“I know.” He says, easing you away from his neck. “Just drink this first and then you can have your alpha.” 

“Alpha.” You whimper, leaning against Kyle’s chest. 

He helps you drink some of the sweet liquid, and you gulp it down, relieved as it eases some of the dryness in your mouth. He lets you drink half of the bottle before he pulls it away, setting it on the nightstand. 

“Good girl.” He praises you, helping you lay back down against your pillow. “I’ll go get Price. I’ll get your alpha.” 

You hum contently at the promise of what’s coming, your omega practically screaming for her alpha, for some relief. 

Kyle slips back out the door, your head buzzing as the intense arousal and need burning within you gets stronger. Your pussy is pulsing, slick dribbling out of you as the need to mate takes over. The primordial instinct to reproduce is strong, your omega clawing at your mind, screaming to be bred, screaming to be bred, to carry pups. You need your alpha. You need his knot. 

You roll onto your stomach, pressing your hips into the mattress. You need something, anything to ease the aching pulse in your body. You begin to rut against the sheets, dragging your clit against the rough fabric. You let out a quiet whine as the friction sends pleasure shooting through you, a slight relief from the pain of your intense arousal. 

The door opens, your head shooting up as the heavy scent of alpha washes over you. Your eyes dilate, a shudder traveling from your head to your toes as the familiar scent of damp earth laced with the musk of arousal invades your senses. You let out another whine as John approaches the bed, your hips still rutting desperately against the sheets. You look utterly ruined, wide eyed and sweat-slicked, panting like an animal in heat. 

You are an animal in heat. 

“Look at you.” John mumbles, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. He stands over you, watching the desperate movements of your hips for a moment. “Needy little thing.” He teases, setting his phone on your nightstand before tugging his shirt over his head. 

You watch as every inch of skin is revealed to you, lips parting as you take him in. The strength of his muscles, the softness of his stomach. You want to lick every inch of him. You want to roll around in his scent, cover yourself in his essence, mark every part of your body with him. 

You arch into his touch as he drags a hand down your back, rough fingers following the line of your spine. You press your ass into his hand as he passes over it, fingers tugging your thighs apart. He groans again as a wave of your thick, sweet scent washes over him. 

“Let me see you.” He growls, sweatpants hitting the floor. 

You hear him, but you’re too busy staring at him in awe. More slick slips out of you at the sight of his cock, red and angry and painfully hard already. You can almost swear it’s pulsing in time with your pussy. A harsh gasp is pulled from your throat as he brings his hand down across your ass, the sound of skin striking skin loud enough to pull you back to reality. 

“I said, present for your alpha.” He says, the rough rumble of his inner alpha coating the edges of his voice. 

You whimper in response, scrambling up onto your hands and knees like a good omega for him as he kneels on the bed behind you.  

“Good girl.” He rumbles, a pleased whine leaving your lips at his praise. 

You push back into his hands as he cups your ass, his hand smoothing over the burning spot on the cheek he’d slapped. You can’t feel the pain from it, far too lost in your heat-riddled brain to register anything but the need pulsing between your thighs and the alpha staring at your soaked pussy. Thumbs part your folds, slick dribbling onto the sheets as he stares at your pussy. 

“So fucking slick for me.” He groans, dragging a thumb along your slit. 

“For you alpha!” You gasp, pressing back harder against his hands. 

A low growl rumbles in his chest as he drags his thumb through your folds again, pressing the digit against your clit. Your gasp is broken by a whimper, your clit already sensitive from you humping against your bed like a needy pup. You bend your top half down, relaxing against the mattress as you grind back against his hand. He lets you, keeping his hand still as he lets you work yourself to pleasure on your own. 

“Please! Please!” You beg, mind going numb with pleasure as his thumb brushes your clit with every rock of your hips. Your legs are already shaking, body trembling as the pleasure starts to build and build, the promise of relief coming at the hands of your alpha. 

“Eager little thing,” He rumbles, his breath fanning across your folds. 

You moan as his tongue drags along your slit, tasting your slick. Your fingers sink into the sheets, holding on as his tongue prods your entrance, his mouth slurping at the slick dripping from you. It’s obscene, but either of you care, both of you too lost in your need. 

Your knees nearly give out, your pussy clenching around his tongue as he applies more pressure against your clit, drawing slow circles with his thumb. He’s groaning against you, the quiet sound rumbling deep in his chest. He’s losing his own sanity, his alpha taking over as your heat triggers his rut instincts. His alpha has to be screaming as much as your omega is to mate. 

Your orgasm hits you suddenly, washing over you with a power that almost makes you black out. Slick spills out of you as your pussy flutters, soaking John’s face and beard in your juices. He’s relentless, not giving you even a second as he continues to fuck you with his tongue as his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit. Your legs are shaking, eyes rolling as the pleasure continues to build. Despite your orgasm, it’s not enough. Your brain knows it and your body knows it. You need a knot before you’ll be able to relax, before the pain and the need fades enough for your brain to relax. 

Even then, it will only be for a moment. 

“Alpha!” You whine, pushing back against his face, seeking out more. 

John growls against your pussy, the sound vibrating into your very soul. You let out a whimper in response, clutching at the sheets desperately. He pulls away from your pussy, licking his lips. You wish you could see him, the way his face shines with your slick, his beard soaked with your release. He licks his lips, savoring every last taste of you he can get as he sinks his fingers into you. 

You clamp down around the thick digits, a groan leaving his lips as you squeeze around him. You’re desperate for another orgasm, another chance at relief from the blazing inferno under your skin, the painful need still pulsing in your pelvis. 

“Please, alpha!” You whine, bucking back against his hand. “Hurts.”

He shushes you, continuing to fuck you with his fingers. The wet squelch of your pussy is loud in the small room, obscene and depraved, but you cannot bring yourself to care who might be able to hear as another orgasm rushes through your body. You whine in pleasure as slick dribbles out around his fingers, forced out by the fluttering of your walls. You can’t stop, don’t stop, as you continue to rock back against him. He watches you, holding his hand still as you fuck yourself on his fingers. You’re still desperate for more, still needing the one thing he won’t give you yet. 

He pulls his fingers from you, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness. Your pussy is still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, still trying to clench around nothing. John curses as he drags his fingers through your folds, spreading your slick and your release across the sensitive skin. 

“Tell me what you need.” He rasps, the edges of his voice harsh as his alpha begins to take over.

“Need your knot, alpha.” You whine, pushing your hips back, searching for anything that might offer some more relief. “Please.”

He lets out a pleased rumble, shifting behind you. You bite your lip in anticipation and excitement, your body twitching as his rough hands smooth over the skin of your hips. His touch is electric, amplified by the sensitivity brought on by your heat. You want to feel him against you, you want to feel him inside of you. You need him, every fiber of your being, every cell in your body reaching out to him, inviting him in. 

A quiet mewl escapes you as he drags the head of his cock through your folds, gathering your slick on his hard length. Your entire body flutters in anticipation as he pushes against your entrance, meeting no resistance as he presses into you. Your body aids him, relaxing around him as it welcomes the intrusion. There’s no pain, no discomfort as he stretches you open, aided by the copious slick that still seeps out around his cock. You practically shudder in relief as you finally get what you want, what you need. 

Your alpha’s cock inside you. 

His grip is tight on your hips as he begins to move, rocking his own hips as he presses deeper into you. He shifts his legs around yours, pressing himself closer until he’s flush against your ass. You can feel him deep inside you, and you’re almost certain you could see it if you looked. You brace yourself against the bed, instinct taking over as you begin to move with him, rocking back to meet his thrusts. It’s lewd, the sound of skin slapping skin as he sets an almost frantic pace, sharp thrusts accentuating the wet squelch of your pussy around him, and the sound of his hips meeting your ass. 

His fingers dig into your hips almost to the point of pain, but you don’t care. You’re far too lost in your instincts, and the pleasure, to care much about anything. The hormones and endorphins block it out, only one thought on your mind, playing on repeat. 

Knot knot knot knot.

You moan loudly as Price ruts into you, not caring who might hear, or who can hear. Price moans and growls, the sweetness of your scent blocking out all thoughts except how much he needs to breed you, how much he needs to be a good alpha and take care of his omega. 

You just want to be a good omega for your alpha. 

You cum again with a cry, pussy fluttering around his cock as more slick dribbles out of you, soaking the sheets below you. John doesn’t stop, save for a slight falter of his thrusts as you squeeze around him tightly, your pussy trying to milk his own orgasm from him. Your body is shaking, his hands the only thing keeping your hips upright as more and more pleasure continues to build despite now three orgasms that have rocked through you. 

You need him to cum, you need him to fill you up with his knot. You need to feel the warmth of his seed inside you, the heaviness of it as it fills you. Drool begins to pool on the sheets below your face, adding to the mix of fluids soaked into your already damp sheets. John’s pace never falters, even as sweat begins to build on his brow, sliding down the sides of his face. You want to lick it, follow the trail of salty liquid as it falls down his neck and onto his chest. 

Sweat drips from your own skin as another orgasm begins to build. You can tell John is close too as his grip tightens on your hips, the pain registering just for a moment at the back of your mind. You’ll forget it by the time your heat ends, the momentary pull to awareness lost in the haze of mindless pleasure and a need to mate. 

“C’mon.” John growls, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck. “Give it to me.” 

You let out a whine, knowing what it is he wants, what it is you need as you push yourself back up onto shaking arms, the adrenaline the only thing giving you the strength to move. John moves your braids to the other side of your neck, his chest pressing against your back. It changes the angle of his thrusts as he grinds against you, the swelling at the base of his cock catching on your walls as he continues to thrust deeply into you. 

“Please,” You whimper, bearing your neck to him as he kisses along the line of your shoulder. “Please alpha. Wanna be yours.” You whimper, arching into him in an attempt to get closer as his teeth drag across your skin. 

“My good omega.” He growls, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin right next to your scent gland at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “My good girl. Gonna take my knot like a good omega? Let me fill you up with pups as I make you mine?” 

You let out a high pitched whine at his words, trying to press your neck closer to his mouth. “Please, alpha! Please! Wanna be a good omega!” 

He curses under his breath, his arm wrapping around your body to hold you up. His knot presses into you, stretching you open as it continues to swell until he’s locked inside you. You cum around his knot at the sensation of being filled so completely, his hips continuing to grind against you as he chases his own orgasm. 

You nearly black out as his teeth sink into your skin, the pinch lasting only for a second before pleasure rushes through you. You let out a loud, high-pitched sound as he claims you, marking you as his forever. Another, sudden orgasm slams into you, his arm holding you still as you try to writhe on his knot. He growls into your skin as he stills, hips jerking against your ass as he cums inside you. 

Your arms give out as he releases your shoulder, blood dripping onto the sheets below you. Your head is spinning as he drags his tongue across the raised skin, cleaning the mark he’s left on you. 

He shushes you as you let out little whimpers and whines, gently easing your body so you’re laying flat against the bed. “Easy, that’s my good girl.” He praises you, pressing gentle kisses against your neck. “My good omega. Take my knot so well.” 

Your vision slowly fades to darkness as exhaustion takes over, a small smile tugging at your lips from his praise. 

His eyes are dark and glazed as he stares up at you, mouth parted as he breathes heavily. Your head is thrown back, the sweetest little moans and whimpers leaving your lips as you bounce on his cock. His hands hold your hips, far too tight to be comfortable against your sweat-soaked skin as he guides your movements, but you offer no complaint. His thighs are soaked with your slick and a mix of fluids that seems to endlessly drip from you. Your own thighs are shaking around him, exhaustion prevalent in your sloppy movements. You’re close, eyes fluttering as your grip tightens on his shoulders. Your nails bite into his skin but he doesn’t care. He can’t feel much of anything but pleasure at the moment. 

He guides you through your orgasm as it rocks through you, your body shuddering around him. His hips press up against yours as he reaches his own end, spilling into you as his knot locks into place, connecting you two once again. He doesn’t know how long it’s been, nor does he care. All he wants is to be inside you, fucking his seed into you until you’re swollen with it. He stares down at where you’re connected for a moment, your pussy spread open around his knot.

He guides you against his chest as your body gives out, the haze of his instincts lifting just momentarily. His body aches, soreness settling in as his mind clears. You lick at his throat, tasting his sweat-slicked skin. Sweet little whimpers and whines leave your lips as you rest against him, completely boneless and at his mercy.

He reaches over to the nightstand, wrapping an arm around you to hold you still so he doesn’t tug on the knot as he grabs the bottle of electrolytes. He unscrews the cap, gently easing you back. You’re both still breathing heavily as he cradles the back of your head with one hand, helping you drink the electrolytes. You gulp it down even in your exhausted state, your body recognizing its need for sustenance. 

He drinks the rest after you finish, tossing the bottle onto the floor with the others. He picks up one of the nutrient bars, peeling the wrapper off before he begins to eat, feeding you bites of it as he does. You’re half asleep, chewing slowly as you rest against his chest, body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks of another of what’s now a countless number of orgasms. 

He gives you the last little bit of the bar before he relaxes back against the headboard, keeping his arms wrapped tight around you. The skin on your shoulder is still angry and slightly swollen from his claiming bite. It doesn’t help that he’s sunk his teeth into that spot twice now since he first claimed you. 

He swells with pride upon seeing it, the proof that you’re now his, a warning to others not to mess with you. It’s a slight weight off his shoulders. He has to worry less about someone trying something. Some haughty, cocksure alpha getting it through his head that he wants what he can’t have, that he can just take what’s not his. A low growl rumbles through his chest at the thought. 

He shushes you as you stir in response to the warning growl, a purr rumbling through his chest as he eases you back into a relaxed state. His good little omega, his sweet little omega, taking his knot so well. 

You make a quiet noise as he twitches inside you, the feeling of being enveloped in your tight heat almost like heaven. He closes his eyes, calming his inner alpha. He knows you need to rest. You need a little break before you start up again, before your heat continues to ravage you. 

Before he continues to ravage you. 

NEXT ->

Taglist:

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[jimilter]

the ferrari guy | jjk.

You hire an assistant – and Jeon Jungkook loses his mind. Is that irrational of him? Not when the guy you’ve chosen flirts like a hooker, looks like a runway model and dresses like he’s Giorgio Armani himself. 

pairing: jungkook x reader rating: pg-15 genre: humor | fluff | chaebol!au | fwb!au | ceo!jungkook warnings: swearing + implied sex + jealousy + insecurity + a certain loml charming everyone’s pants off <3 word count: 3 k note:  helloooo fam! i am alive and still writing apparently lmao. jimilter is still a safe space, a wonderful escape from real life and i have no plans of quitting this in near or far future (: no comments on the occasional disappearances tho bec real life has been hectic af! anyways, enjoy this humorous lil drabble from jk's pov (set between part 3 & 4) while i work on the massive angst in part 5! <3

— masterlist | feedback!

↝ the damsel & her knight ⁘ 01 02 03 [3.5] 04 05

On Thursday evening, while leaving work, Jeon Jungkook finds a flashy, bright red Ferrari convertible blocking his car in the parking lot of his office. An office in a building his father owns. 

Needless to say, he is beyond mad.

"Who the heck even drives a Ferrari in our company?" he barks into the phone, scowling when his secretary gives an exasperated sigh.

"President ma'am interviewed some people today, sir. Maybe it's one of the candidate's cars?" 

"What kind of a douchy person comes to a job interview in a convertible?" Jungkook is still scowling at the vermillion vehicle when his brain catches up with the rest of the information Haeri imparted. His mouth dropping open, he raises his free hand up in front of his face, as if to stop time. "Hold on – did you say President ma'am?"

"Uh, yes, si—"

"She interviewed people? Why? What for?" he cuts his secretary off, frowning.

"She is hiring an assistant, sir."

"Wha—why does she need an assistant?"

Haeri is quiet for a while. Then she clears her throat. "I would suggest you to not ask her this, sir."

Jungkook sighs. Haeri is always so straightforward with him. Sometimes a bit too straightforward. But she’s always guiding him around making stupid decisions, and maybe that is why he's had her in his office for nearly two years now. The longest he’s had a secretary ever since he joined the company as the CEO. 

There’s also the fact that Haeri actually has a boyfriend and is immune to all of Jungkook’s charm… Not that he’s actually tried them on her, per se. He’s been otherwise occupied in that department for a while. Very happily and proudly so. 

Clearing his throat, "Yeah, sorry," he grumbles to the girl, turning around to eye the offensive car again. "I'm texting you the license plate number, will you make an announcement on Prez's floor?"

"Sir, I—"

"Good. Thanks, Haeri, you're a gem!"

Even as a security guard comes and removes the obstructing vehicle within minutes and Jungkook is free to leave, his mind doesn’t feel settled. At all. He isn’t sure what it is that irks him about you hiring an assistant, but it is something for sure. Maybe he fears you’d pay him even lesser attention at work than the scant amount you do now. Maybe he thinks you won’t need his help with the integrated Firewall-VPN project anymore. Maybe he… Well, he isn't sure.

But something about this just usettles him. Which is what has him texting you close to midnight, casually dropping his question without offending you with a ‘why’ just like Haeri instructed him to.

↪ hey prez ↪ heard you’re hiring an assistant?

Your reply comes exactly ninety-four seconds later. Yes, he counts.

You heard that in the middle of the night?

He bites his lip, rubbing his reddening cheeks against the cold cotton of his pillow in embarrassment, but doesn’t lose hope because you’re still typing.

I have actually already had the interviews today The guy joins tomorrow You wanna drop by with a welcome gift basket? :)

His glare stays fixed on the little, taunting smile for a long while, before it moves to the word ‘guy’ in your text. You’ve hired a guy assistant.

Jungkook wonders if the bile suddenly roiling in his stomach has any correlation with the explicit images his brain suddenly conjures up of you and a faceless male making out in your office.

God, he’s going insane.

The next morning, Jungkook is barging into Yoongi's office with a frown. "Prez hired an assistant."

Min Yoongi very slowly looks up from his computer screen, gaze wary. "Good morning to you too, Jeon. I’m doing well, thanks for asking.”

Jungkook ignores the man’s sarcasm and instead drops into one of the couches placed on one side of his office, groaning. “It’s a guy.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Head whipping up faster than the blink of an eye, Jungkook gapes at your Creative Director. “You have heard?”

Yoongi gives him a tired look. “My office is on the same floor as hers, Jeon. I have more than just heard.”

“Have you seen the guy?” he quickly rushes out, wide eyes boring into Yoongi’s disinterested ones.

“Met him. Kid’s jovial and efficient. She’s gonna love him.”

What? Jungkook stalks up to Yoongi’s table with a scowl. “Kid?”

“Oh, he’s probably older than you.”

“Jovial?”

“Yeah, always got a smile on his face; not a word out of his mouth without giggles.”

Giggles? Jungkook's pinky finger twitches in irritation because giggling is supposed to be his thing. How dare you.

“And he's really freaking efficient too, man." Yoongi continues when Jungkook has stayed quiet for too long. "He's got a typing speed of 96 wpm, can speak five languages, is capable of charming every guest with a grin and some sweet words—oh! And he’s quick on his feet! Delivered five coffees on two different floors with the steam still coming out of the cups.” Yoongi has a fond, dreamy look on his face, and if it wasn’t for the wedding band on his finger, Jungkook would have assumed the guy has fallen in love with your new assistant.

Which doesn’t sit well with Jungkook at all. Teeth gritted and fists clenched, he gazes out of the glass doors of Yoongi’s office to yours. 

You aren’t in, yet. Should he pay your oh-so-wonderful assistant a visit before you are?

You’d surely have his head if you catch him threatening the dude – not that he plans on it; he just feels like he might – but it’s a risk he is very much willing to take.

And so, over Yoongi’s protests, Jungkook marches out of the guy’s office and, crossing the long corridor, lands at yours.

There’s an additional table placed perpendicular to yours within the glass cabin and Jungkook wishes he had laser vision so he could incinerate the damn thing in its place. He looks around the office for the guy of the hour, grunting at the small trinkets he finds adorning the new table.

Who keeps a freaking potted plant on a desk? What if it fell off and died?

Jungkook doubts this guy is as efficient as Yoongi talked about him being. He chokes in the middle of the accompanying scoff, though, because his eyes suddenly locate, well, keys.

Sleek, black, no bigger than a matchbox, with a silver, galloping horse engraved on the obviously custom made leather surface. Keys to a Ferrari. What are the odds?

“Ma’am, you’re in earl—oh…”

Jungkook twists on heels at the voice, coming face to face with a guy that honestly doesn’t look much older than him despite what Yoongi said. His eyes are wide and lips rounded, brown hair brushed off his forehead to display the perfect arch to his thick eyebrows. He wears a – Jungkook hates to admit – gorgeously tailored dark brown suit that Jungkook knows to be Armani because he just made the same purchase a week back.

The guy, simply put, doesn't look assistant-material at all. He could be on Vogue's cover with those plump lips and shapely eyes of his. Or perhaps pose for swimsuit commercials with that bubble butt. Or walk the ramp for Armani, Patek Philippe or Chanel, given the brands Jungkook can spot on him.

But he isn't in any of those places – he is here, in your office, as your assistant.

“Good morning, sir!” he suddenly exclaims, and here’s the jollity Yoongi talked about. “You must be Mr. Jeon, the CEO?”

Jungkook gives him a jilted nod, hating the flawless mannerism the guy displays and the accompanying subconscious twitch his lips give in response, and inches back towards the door. “Um, yeah… I was just leaving…”

Your assistant’s smile falls and a concerned look overtakes his face. “But you just got here?”

And something about the innocent pout with which he looks at Jungkook has him rooted to the place. In wonder? Confusion? Shock?

Awe?

He can't freaking tell.

“I can get you some coffee, if you’d like? Everyone’s been telling me I brew a killer espresso!” He flashes a proud smile while Jungkook just helplessly gapes. “I can also get you some snacks? Sandwiches? Cookies? Ooh, would you like some pastries? Our office canteen has some amazing Danishes, would you like one? Ah, your forehead is all misty. Here!”

Before Jungkook can react, the guy is in his face with a tissue, dabbing the sweat away from Jungkook’s arched eyebrows. His smile is blinding, dear God, Jungkook cannot articulate a single word out of the storming confusion in his head. Since when do men have such pouty lips? 

When he steps back, he immediately gestures to a couch. “Make yourself comfortable, sir! May I lower the temperature? You still haven’t said what you need.”

Finally, finally able to collect his thoughts, Jungkook releases a long exhale. 

Who the actual fuck is this guy? A witch? A siren?

Jungkook needs to get out of here and he needs to talk to you.

“Uh, no, thank you, none of that. I, um, I’m good.” Quickly flashing the guy a tight lipped smile, Jungkook slips out of the doors. “I came to see Prez, but she's obviously not here, so… I’ll – I'llcome back later. Good day.”

Even as Jungkook immediately storms out of the office and rushes to the elevators to hurry back to his own floor, your assistant calls out a very happy sounding, “You have the best day, sir!”

Well-mannered, fashionable, charming in a very alarming way. Dude literally had him gaping for a whole minute with his head pretty damn empty. Jungkook's head is never empty.

This guy is so weird and… dangerous. Where did you find him?

And, in fact, why did he come here?

The guy's obviously rich, given all the brands he wears like second skin, so why the heck does he want to work as your assistant? In the same office as you?

Jungkook roughly swallows as the images he conjured last night make a return to his head – this time, with your assistant’s regrettably very handsome face on the previously faceless guy you were making out with. 

He wants to punch a wall.

What he does, instead, is shoot off a text to his secretary, telling her he isn’t feeling well and is going back home. And then another one to you, asking you to pay him a visit tonight. And possibly stay the night because he bought some extra alcohol.

He hasn’t, but the first stop he makes after leaving the office will be to pick up some expensive red wine.

Everytime Jungkook pulls out of you, spent and sweaty and satisfied, after the deed is done, he is left in disbelief. Every single time. Is this really happening? Are you really sleeping with him? Do you actually feel attracted to his body?

He is smart enough to not delude himself into thinking there's more to it, but it doesn't matter because whatever there is between you both is enough to astound him every time the two of you have sex.

Right now, as you sit with your back to him, pulling on his t-shirt over your bare frame – Jungkook's mind is caught onto something a little different than his usual daze of disbelief, though.

And even though he’s risking it by questioning the ‘why’ despite his secretary’s warnings, Jungkook can’t help it when he brings it up. "So… Hiring an assistant. Why so suddenly?"

You hum and give a noncommittal shrug. "I can't be in the office all the time. It's high time I hired one, don’t you think?"

Jungkook doesn’t think so. But he’d definitely be dead meat if he said it out loud. “Sure… What tasks will you give him?”

That earns him a confused look from you over your shoulder. “Do you wanna tell me something, Jeon?”

Wide-eyed, he gapes at you. “What?”

“Did something happen with Haeri? Is that why—”

“Oh, no,” he exhales, beyond relieved, then shakes his head with a smile when you continue to eye him suspiciously. “I just… Well. I’m always making Haeri pick up after me as if she’s a babysitter and not an office worker, you know? So I thought I could use some tips from you…”

You nod at that, turning back around to pull on your panties, and Jungkook breathes easier. He has sold his lie and you’ve bought it. “That’s actually thoughtful and mature of you. Where was this maturity when you had me running after you, though?” you grumble with a playful glare, and he just laughs. 

“It is because of all of that that I’ve finally learnt to be mature, Prez.”

Straightening after having covered your lower half, you inch back on the bed and rest your back against the headboard. “Well. To be fair, he has been running around for tiny errands for the two days he’s been here, so I can’t really lecture you, right now,” you admit. “But I wanted someone in the office for the meetings-season that is about to arrive as we near the launch, you know? Both you and I will be busy with the project. Poor Yoongi will need all the help he can get.”

Jungkook frowns. “Why doesn’t Yoongi hire an assistant then?”

You snort at that and gesture to the bottle of wine on the nightstand. “Why’re you pressed about it? You said you need tips, right?”

“Ah, yes, of course. I just want some tips.” Quickly catching his slip, Jungkook pours you a glass and settles next to you, bare, with the covers thrown across his lap for modesty. “So… will he be accompanying you to meetings, then? Or fill in for you while you’re busy with other stuff?”

“Well, initially he will shadow me for a week or so. And then when I get busy overseeing the launch event and coordinating with the Lims and other investors, he can switch between locations around the city to ensure everything is in order because Yoongi can’t be doing everything, you know?” You take a sip from your glass of wine and shrug a shoulder. “He’s our Creative Director, he needs to hold the fort while everyone runs around like headless chickens.”

Jungkook sips at his wine and musters a thin smile. Because yes, it definitely makes sense why you needed to hire an assistant. Speaking of, Yoongi probably needs one as well. 

Damn, when he used to work as a Software Analyst at a different company, he had no idea the executives of a company had so much to do. It always looks like an easy life looking in from the outside. But as CEO, he has come to learn that if someone in a higher up position makes a mistake, they initiate a dominoes’ fall all the way down.

“You met him, didn’t you?”

His surprised eyes fly to yours at the question. You’re looking at him with a smirk, and Jungkook’s heart gives a thump at how sexy you look. Your question, though, throws him off. "I… How did you—”

You roll your eyes. “He told me you came in to see me and then left. I checked in with Haeri and she said you weren’t feeling well.”

Wow. They both snitched on him. Just great.

And now you're looking at him with barely contained laughter as if you know how jealous he feels. Who is he kidding, of course you know how jealous he feels. You always know this kind of stuff, ugh.

“Don’t be getting insecure, Jeon, my assistant will remain only an assistant.”

He doesn’t know why you say that, but he appreciates it all the same. The twinkle in your eyes expresses playful adoration and the way it makes his heart race kinda scares him.

But then you lean in with an exaggerated kissy face to press a wet smooch on his mouth. When you pull away, he looks at you with a slight pout on his lips. You tilt your head to the side with a squint.

"What?"

"It's… Why did you pick the Ferrari guy?" Jungkook sounds a little whiny, but he can't help it.

You look at him over the rim of your glass, eyebrows nearing your hairline, amusement spilling from your gaze. "Uh, what's wrong with the Ferrari guy?"

"Nothing, of course, that's not what I meant," he tries to amend with a chuckle, but given the way you narrow your eyes at him before putting your glass away to cross your arms, you probably don't buy it. So he speaks on. "It's just that he doesn't look like an assistant, you know?"

"I… don’t actually. What does an assistant look like?"

Are you being purposely difficult or is Jungkook being completely weird? He's not exactly sure how to explain it better, but he's definitely sure that any other way would have been better than what comes out of his mouth next. "I mean, a bit… less… flirty, I guess?"

"What? What the hell did he do to you?"

He groans at your excited expressions. "Dude had me gaping at him for fifteen minutes while he talked about God knows what, because I couldn't focus on his words! I don't even like men like that!"

You give a loud snort and then break into loud peals of laughter. "Well, Jungkook, maybe you do! Maybe you just haven't had your awakening yet!"

"Not funny," he grunts, even as a humored smile slips on to his face at your loud giggles. "What did you say his name was, again?"

You raise an eyebrow. "I didn't."

He rolls his eyes. "Well, my dear Prez, what is your new assistant's name?"

"Park Jimin." Your smile turns goofy and eyes almost dreamy. "Pretty name for a pretty man. Right?"

He rolls his eyes at your suggestive wink, grumbling as he finishes his glass of wine in a large gulp.

You give a small sigh. "He's a nice guy, give him a chance. Heart of gold, or whatever they say."

Jungkook decides that he, for reasons way beyond his supposed homoerotic awakening, absolutely hates Park Jimin's guts. He's going to convince you to fire him. And soon.

© jimilter | 2024

[moonpascaltoo]

logan ‘james’ howlett

masterlist • x-men • 11/18/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

two

𑣲 as it was I @ichorai

you first met logan as weapon x, wiped clean of any memory of his past life. he had nearly killed you then. and now, almost two years later, he’s pressing kisses over the very same scars his adamantium claws had inflicted.

𑣲 blast from the past I @lune-hime

𑣲 a wolverines heartache I @imaginesforfandom

On two separate occasions, both Y/N and Logan find jealousy within their friendship.

𑣲 feral I @angelltheninth

𑣲 worked up I @loganbcrnes

logan breaks the bed

𑣲 anything I @starryluce

Almost everyone fears Logan but Logan only fears you. His wife that happens to be pretty mad at him.

𑣲 i need you baby I @lilac-mushroom

When you found out that mutants were being chased and attacked, you couldn't stand the thought of Logan, an old friend of yours, being hurt. Upon arrival at the place he was staying at, you found him beaten up and hurting, his healing powers slowed down. Deciding to take care of him, you couldn't ignore the closeness and strong sexual tension felt between you, just like old times. It wouldn't be bad to give in to it... right?

𑣲 above the clouds I @/lilac-mushroom

Flying over to Atlanta for a mission with the X-Men, you sat next to Logan on the plane. But when his hand sneaked to caress the top of your thigh, you were faced with having to decide between sneaking off with him to the bathroom and leaving Logan painfully hard for rest of the flight. Maybe if you tried to be quiet...

𑣲 apologies I @jbreenr

The Wolverine's presence in your life took a turn you did not expect.

𑣲 two wolves, one bunny I @buckylattes

Logan and Bucky have had their eyes on you for a little bit now, and you can’t stand to wait any longer for them to finally make a move. So you make a move of your own and finally, you all get what you’ve been wanting.

𑣲 next door neighbor I @/buckylattes

Your next door neighbor, Logan, has been trying to get your attention for a while now, but he fears that he’s taken the whole situation the wrong way. Will you ever give him a chance?

𑣲 possessive I @/buckylattes

Logan is always very possessive of you, his girl, but you can’t really be mad at him even if you try.

𑣲 untangle me I @buckyownsmylife

The one where once it becomes clear that Logan is your alpha, he’s the one left pining

𑣲 first burn I @/buckyownsmylife

The one where Logan is so crazy to make sure that everyone knows you’re his, that he fucks you in front of everyone.

𑣲 prom I @loving-barnes

𑣲 a little game I @/loving-barnes

𑣲 touch me like nobody else does I @galatially

you called and i came, the history between us too broad to ignore; when he showed up on your doorstep five years after he disappeared in the middle of the night, logan howlett decided to clear the air.

𑣲 in love with the wolverine I @ellana-ravenwood

𑣲 sunshine and flowers I @hannibals-favourite-meal

Logan has had a great many loves in his long life and he’s over it. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else yet somehow, the annoying and very much younger art teacher at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, wormed her way into his heart.

𑣲 the way back home I @/hannibals-favourite-meal

After months of being apart from each other, he’s finally back in your arms

𑣲 worst possible decision I @/hannibals-favourite-meal

How could Logan be stupid enough to fall for the little sister of an overprotective metal controlling mutant? As it turns out, very easily.

𑣲 body swap I @make-me-imagine

reader and wolverine get body swapped, and the reader just so happened to be on their period when it happens + them having to deal with each others mutations.

𑣲 wolverine x reader I @carry-on-wayward-sun

𑣲 it should have been me pt2 I @wolfdeamonghoul

Bucky and you had a good relationship, until he felt like didn’t need you anymore and so he breaks up with you and starts dating Natasha soon after. It only takes seeing you walking down the aisle, saying your ‘i dos’ to someone else for him to realize his mistake.

𑣲 what a tease I @/wolfdeamonghoul

you tease Logan too much that he begins to pleasure himself

𑣲 sexting I @/wolfdeamonghoul

𑣲 breed out I @holylulusworld

you woke the animal in wolverine.

𑣲 bed sharing I @/holylulusworld

“Can you do ‘bed-sharing’ with Wolverine? He’s grumpy and you believe he doesn’t like you, but he can’t stop himself from sniffing at your neck and it can be smutty or just fluff. You decide.”

𑣲 cranky I @/holylulusworld

Your boyfriend is cranky in the morning.

𑣲 newbie I @kgficz

Logan had arrived at the X Mansion only a few days ago, finding it difficult to adjust. One night when he can’t fall asleep, he finds you awake in the kitchen and strikes up a conversation.

𑣲 back in time I @/kgficz

Set in Days of Future Past; Logan has lost everything, he has lost you. He’s finally been sent back in time to change the future. How can he keep his head straight when he travels back and sees a younger you?

𑣲 logan training I @imyourbratzdoll

logan and the reader end up training in another... more fulfilling way.

𑣲 labels I @mlmxreader

you and Logan discuss your relationship over a beer.

𑣲 the last goodbye I @trickstersteve

𑣲 just a dance I @lipstickandvibranium

Logan wasn’t fond of parties, but he was fond of her.

𑣲 i guess you didn’t cheat, but… I @youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms

𑣲 request I deactivated account

𑣲 grumpy x sunshine I @inkdrinkerworld

𑣲 mutant!reader I @/inkdrinkerworld

𑣲 forever winter I @luna-writes-stuff

After a rough mission, you lost a handful of students. Trying to sleep off your concussion, Logan retreats to the kitchen, coping in his own ways. You encounter him late at night, and remember him that there is no need for him to deal with this alone.

𑣲 obsessed with wolverine I @gallavichsreddie1128

𑣲 sugar, sugar I @eupheme

Your eccentric neighbor Wade may drive you a little up the wall… but, you’re willing to put up with him if it means he’ll introduce you to his new, grumpy-looking roommate.

𑣲 come on and show me I @/eupheme

𑣲 your kiss is on my list I @/eupheme

𑣲 the honda odyssey I @coweye

The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original.

𑣲 the worst logan part 2 I @/coweye

You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life

𑣲 all coming back to me I @heartlogan

logan didn’t realise you would be here in the past. all that follows.

𑣲 the story ends I @/heartlogan

the day that logan lost you

𑣲 request I @gay-dorito-dust

logan reuniting with reader

𑣲 heart made of glass I @moonlight-prose

you couldn't control when they could come. the waves of nothingness - of battling with your body and mind in the hopes it would cause a shift. you wanted to control it. he simply wanted to help.

𑣲 home video I @little-miss-dilf-lover

[bratscave]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ — MY LITTLE PRINCESS !

includes. dilf! logan x 23! shy? reader, very lightly implied daddy issues, sexual content! (car pussy eating lol)

You’ve seen Logan here before, countless times, always in that same corner, nursing his drink in solitude. His age should turn you off, it really should but somehow that just got you more intrested, you had been stern on doing something about said-intrest but your fear of talking and interacting with men, held you back.

Tonight, tonight you were going to do it. You were sure of it. With your heart pounding in your chest, you slide off the barstool, your legs feeling a little shaky as you make your way across the room. Each step feels like it takes you all your power, and by the time you reach his table, you’re sure he can hear your heart beating out of your chest.

You pause for a moment, hesitating, before you finally force yourself to speak, "is the seat taken?" your voice was quiet, shaky even, you silently cursed yourself — you had wanted yourself to sound confident, god damn it.

He turns around with a gaze that was so intense, you were sure he was about to fuck you off to go somewhere else, yet he quietly gestured to the seat next to him. You slide into the seat opposite him, your knees brushing logans under the table.

"You're a bit young to be in a place like this," he murmurs, his voice deep and gravelly, carrying the weight of all the years he’s lived. There’s a teasing edge to his tone, but also a hint of concern, like he’s trying to figure out what a girl like you is doing in a place like this, with a man like him.

You feel a blush creeping up your neck, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. "Maybe I like being around… older men." Well not the older men around you, him though, very much so. "I'm not that young." you add on, it was true - since when were people in their mid twenties considered, young?

A scoff slips past his lips at your response, though it did pique his intrest. His thumb circled around the glass of his whiskey, you were sure that was at least the fourth one he had, "Not that young, huh? Then how old are you, princess?"

You practically feel yourself grow hotter at the nickname, on it's own 'princess' sounds so endearing, so loving — but with his rough tone, it got this different edge to it. "23," you mumble, obediently at his question.

Logan repeats your age, let's it slip from his tongue losely, makes it hang around the dimly light bar and between you.

"I wonder what your parents would think, princess. If only they knew where their little girl was right now, and who she was with."

You'd actually think he was somewhat concearned if it wasn't for the almost mocking tone in his voice, not like he was making fun of you moreover like he just found this situation and how you were behaving amusing.

The blush intensifies at his comment, you hated how you reacted to him, how your body did too; you didn't want to come of as to shy or inexperienced. that was not the case, well somewhat. Your absent father, certaintly wouldn't care - your mother, maybe but who'd tell her? "I'm not a little girl," you're grown god damn it.

His smirk only grew as you got increasingly red. It was cute.

"Oh, really? You look like a little girl to me, princess. All shy and flustered just from sitting at the same table as me. Can't even look me in my eyes."

Logan leaned a little closer to you, his tone almost advising, "You look like you need someone to take care of you, princess. Someone older. More experienced. Do your little boytoys not take care of you right, hm?"

It takes all your will power to not run off into the sunset, burry yourself a hole and think about what he said for the rest of your life. You manage to answer quietly, "you sound like you want to be that 'someone'"

"smart girl," he snickered, satisfied with your reply.

"I'll admit, I've been watching you for a while. You come here all the time and drink all by yourself. All alone. Always sitting at the same spot, watching others."

You can feel yourself get wetter at just his words, he had been observing you? The you, who looked at him countless times, sure he was not looking back or cared at that either.

Sooner then your mother would be proud of, you were in his car. Well- you and him were in his backseat. The car smelled old, looked old too but you didn't have time to make details out as he kept your legs spread for him, rough big hands patting the skin every now and then, to quietly tell you how good you were.

His tongue was way to busy to talk, licking and sucking with a precision that was applaudible. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Just hours ago, you were too shy to even speak to him, and now here you were, half-naked in the backseat of his car, your body squirming around.

He wasn’t gentle — Logan was thorough, relentless, like he had something to prove. And maybe he did, maybe he wanted to show you exactly what you’d been missing, what it was like to be with a man who knew exactly what he was doing. His stubble scratched against your sensitive skin, adding to the rawness of the experience, making it feel more real.

He was so broad, taking up most of the space in that damn backseat and he was hungry. starved, or at least he ate you out like he was.

Logan would make sure that, for the next few days, you’d feel him in every corner of your body. You would ache, throb in all the right places — all because of him.