#gotta have both pockets
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for my sake, the world was created; for the world's sake, I was created.
#and also i am but dust and ashes#gotta have both pockets#jumblr#judaism#jewish quotes#encouragement#inspiration#breslov#rabbi nachman of breslov#reasons to live#among others
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it has been brought up before but. y'know the little details in tissue use that tell you something about a character. like whether they use the same one(s) until they are totally useless or if they pull a new one for each and every sneeze or blow. or if they use a handkerchief instead. just thinking about it.
#SPECIFICALLY. h/ua ch/eng and x/ie l/ian are BOTH use em until u really really can't anymore types.#i think they both had too long in their lives where they had to be thrifty and u couldn't just GET MORE easily!#so u gotta work with what you have!#x/ie l/ian is the type to use one halfway and stash it in his pocket for later#don't tell me mr. “half eaten bun in his sleeve” wouldn't#not like h/ua c/heng necessarily /wouldn't/ (esp in the past) but there's no such thing as a half still dry tissue for him usually uwu;;;#could be a tag ur blorbos game if u care to play honestly x'D
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sincerely fascinated by these guesses. when in my whole entire life have I expressed any particular interest in any of these guys
#my whole entire life AS AN OUTDOORSY KID AND ANIMAL LOVER#without anger or judgement just: [hand on my chin like I'm at an art museum] huh!#cougar is the one really getting me#Sloth and Dolphin are Popular Animals™ if you're just like. guessing animals that you've seen recently on funny tee shirts#cougar?????????#to be fair to my mom I've never had One Single Favorite Animal since outgrowing my huge dog phase in middle school#but also?? cougar???? have I ever even said the word 'cougar' out loud in earshot of my mom#they're not even in my top five big cats#I care for dolphins and sloths maybe less (I am so aggressively neutral on both but hard to resist the charm of any big cat)#but as discussed they're not totally out of pocket guesses for like. a young adult woman you've never met before fdkjhggfdkj#if you're just blindly suggesting Kitsch Animals you're not even gonna pull owls or dragonflies or moths or wolves??#again I'm not UPSET I'm just BEWILDERED#anyway I gotta figure out how to respond cause the real answer is 'I don't have one' which is unhelpful lmao#HUH. HUH. HM.#about me
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2009 Malaysian Grand Prix - Jenson Button(ft. Nick Heidfeld & Timo Glock)
#gifing jenson podiums is just me frantically saying to myself over and over:#'WHY IS HE SO PRETTYYYYYYY'#his wet messed up hair in all of these....i am unwell...#i have a love hate relationship with wet races#i like them as a race bcs they add an extra element of unpredicatableness#BUT THEY MAKE THE LIGHTING OF THE PODIUMS ABSOLUTE SHIT(at least in this era)#this and the next race(china 2009) are plagued with the worst lighting known to man#and it pains me so much cause theyre both great podiums but the lighting makes everyone look so bad LMAO#like yes ty for letting me see my drivers sopping wet but my god why do you make them look like smeagol(sry thats so out of pocket)#but its impossible to completely ruin jenson's handsomeness so no worries#there were so many cute shots of him peeking out of the car I LOVE HIMMMMM SOB SOB#i really gotta stop making gifsets right before i need to sleep it makes me keep pushing my sleepy time later#hahaha me quickly posting these mere hours before the first event of miami#PLS! ITS NOT THE RACE WKND JUST YET I SWEAR I SWEAR#jenson button#jb22#timo glock#nick heidfeld#brawn#f1#formula 1#formula one#we do a little bit of f1#2009 malaysian grand prix#2009 malaysian gp#(2009: 2/17 races watched)#season: 2009
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Cant believe shinji x fuuka isn’t a more popular ship like. Does this sopping wet loser couple mean nothing to you people
#persona#persona 3#shinjiro aragaki#fuuka yamagishi#its so cute its so fucking cute like shinji having a soft spot for fuuka#and helping her cook and trying to help in a way thats encouraging without also losing his mind#cuz shes like comically bad and shinji is really passionate about it so its gotta be torture but potentially upsetting fuuka is worse#and like shinji lied about sees not having a nav persona user to protect fuuka#plus they both have deep self worth issues like shinji is suicidal and on drugs and fuuka has been horribly bullied and feels like a failure#but you know theyd help each other so well#and liiiiike its cute im such a fucking sucker for big gloomy guys and their silly funny girlfriends#and im extra biased since theyre my favorite characters id kill for both of them they live in my pocket
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But I don't waaannnnnna work on this essay that is due tomorrow and worth 30% of my mark and that I haven't even started yet. :( :( :(
#pockets muses IRL#goddamn i gotta do something about leaving shit to the last minute#i spent all day yesterday watching new shows#(im on an actor rabbithole and have discovered some FIRE viewing)#the essay is due tomorrow and ive got a job application i wanna do due today#both of which i shouldve started working on like... tuesday at the latest#alas#twas not to be#honestly im actually continuing to type out these tags as a form of procrastination#this is getting ridiculous
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taking a break from cleaning because i need to 1) pace myself and 2) spread this out over 2 days so that it doesn't get a chance to get too dirty again before i gotta do final tidying and pickup before the chaos ensues, but i've gotten a surprising amount done for like 20 minutes of clean and 10 minutes of Silly Shit.
#the whiteboard to-do list has been a game changer for me in general#like i don't often have a lot of stuff to put on it#but when i do it's really good at keeping me on track/focused#without being too overwhelming to look at#(or while it might be overwhelming as soon as you knock something off if the list looks too cluttered you can just erase it)#(and then bam less shit on your list both physically and mentally)#my productivity hack is 1) erasable to-do list and 2) find a 15-20 minute video to pop on and work to#you don't gotta pay attention to it but finding something you enjoy listening to is a key#i don't wear headphones while working because i don't have wireless ones and i rarely wear pockets indoors because fuck that noise#so i just pop my phone in a central location to where i'm currently working and let her go#if i have to leave the room i can hear it going and i know i gotta go back for it when i'm done#you just work for the length of the video and assess where you're at when you're done#if you did extra stuff that wasn't on your to-do list#write them down and cross them off - or just pretend you've already wiped them off the list because you did them#and since it's not on your list *now* you don't have to worry about it#i used to work almost exclusively to markiplier's prop hunt playlist but i've expanded for shorter bursts#because that's what i put on if i think it's going to take all day (and then i get about 45 minutes in and go alright i finished)#anyway ymmv if you even got this far or were thinking about taking my advice#i'm just telling you what works for me#and of course it's really mostly onlyhelpful if i've already got the spoons for doing shit that day in the first place lmao#speaking of which i did figure out where the extra spoons came from earlier this week#bad news boys: it was the hormone cycle and now i'm bleedin' out me vag again#okay real sorry if you got this far on the tags thank god this is my own post lmao
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I have a feeling Johnny would try and set up Simon with one of his friends
like
“M’ tellin ya mate yer going tae like ‘er,” Johnny teased, bounding a couple steps in front of Simon, turning back to him and rocking back and forth on his heels, hands shoved into his pockets to protect them from the cold. As Price often quipped, the 'scott can't stand still for the life of him.'
“Mhm,” Simon just grumbled in response.
“See mate, That’s the attitude that scares all the girls away.” Johnny commented, hands outstretched and exaggerated.
“Whatever.” Simon huffed, shaking his head. Johnny wasn’t wrong, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done anything with a girl that wasn’t a quick lay, and even then it had been months, not to mention going out on a proper date. Well, a date was a stretch, you were Johnny’s close friend for a couple years. He had heard of you, but never met you and now Johnny was insisting that he go on a date with you because he was convinced it was going to work well, Simon wasn’t convinced in the slightest.
“She’s real nice though- so put away the tough guy act big man- girls don’t like that.” Simon couldn’t believe he was getting dating advice from his sergeant, so he just doubled down and kept scowling but Johnny kept pressing. “I'm telling you she's a real sweet girl, kinda lass who would try tae make a crying baby laugh on the tube or go and feed some mangy stray dog, perfect for a prickly bastard like yerself.”
“Okay okay, Jesus. ’s not like ’m going to scare ‘er off on purpose.” Simon relented
“You better not, gettin' laid might do ya' some good man, calm yer ass down a wee bit” Johnny chuckled
Simon would have yelled at him for that comment but his friend cut him off, “‘Kay we’re ‘ere,” Johnny chirped, “Gaz and his girl should be inside already and she’ll be ‘ere soon,” Johnny said, pushing his Lt. through the pub door.
Johnny had invited Kyle and his girlfriend for a kind of double date situation because he thought having another girl there would help you feel more comfortable, something Simon couldn’t argue with. Why Johnny’s single ass would be attending was a mystery.
and he's been playing both sides
“Ya like serious guys right?” Johnny had asked you out of the blue, a week or so prior while hanging out at your flat.
“Uh yeah sure? I mean I guess so, more than immature assholes like you.” You had joked back across the small kitchen.
“Well,” He had began, unphased by your teasing, “There’s this guy I work with-”
“Don’t even.” you cut him off
“Wha'?!” he whined
“Don’t try and set me up with one of your military bros,” you warned, “I’m not interested.”
“Jus' 'cause yer last dates 'ave been busts doesnae mean you shouldn't keep tryin’,” He pleaded, catching the sponge you threw at him, “He’s a real good guy, kinda intimidating but you’d like him, promise!”
You glared at him before going back and forth, Johnny was really trying to sell this guy, and he wasn’t wrong, your last three dates had been nothing short of disasters. So, after lots of pleading -and a couple tasteful photos from them at the gym- you agreed. So as you walked closer and closer to the pub, your nerves were buzzing. Just gotta get past his tough exterior is all, Johnny’s words of advice rang through your head. Thankfully he had invited another one of his friends there along with his girlfriend, you would have been hyperventilating if it was just going to be you and some guys. As you reached for the door, you could only hope Johnny was right about this guy.
So, who would be surprised when it actually works out, when Simon actually falls in love with you and your sweet smile at first site. When you find his corny and sometimes morbid jokes genuinely funny, having to cough around your drink to prevent spitting it out.
Johnny's just happy Simon might finally chill out, and he won't have to listen to you complain about failed dates every other week.
#He's a little bastard but he means well#I know bro was sweating and praying for it to go well too#simon ghost x reader#simon#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley headcanons#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#soap#ghost cod#ghost#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#ghost x oc#ghost x reader#tf 141 headcanons#tf 141 x reader#tf 141 x you#task force 141#cod mw3#cod modern warfare#cod x you#cod x reader#cod x y/n#cod x oc#cod mw2#john price#kyle gaz garrick
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Enter Your Details to have a Chance to Win a $100 Cash App Now!
#100 days of productivity#new york#Step 1: Sign Up for Cash App#The first step is to sign up for Cash App. It's a mobile payment app that allows you to send and receive money from friends and family. Plu#when you sign up using someone's referral code#you can earn a $5 sign-up bonus.#Step 2: Link Your Debit Card#To start earning money on Cash App#you'll need to link your debit card. This will allow you to send and receive money#as well as make purchases using the Cash Card.#Step 3: Refer Friends#One of the easiest ways to earn free money on Cash App is by referring friends. When you refer someone and they sign up using your referral#you'll both get a $5 bonus. Plus#for each successful referral (who makes at least a $5 transfer)#you can get a $15 bonus.#Step 4: Use Cash Boosts#Cash Boosts are special discounts that you can use when you make purchases using your Cash Card. They can save you money on things like cof#groceries#and even gas. By using Cash Boosts#you can keep more money in your pocket and earn free money on Cash App.#Step 5: Participate in Sweepstakes and Giveaways#Cash App sometimes offers sweepstakes and giveaways that you can enter for a chance to win free money. Keep an eye out for these opportunit#and make sure to follow the rules and instructions for entering.#So#there you have it#my friend. A simple and easy-to-follow guide on how to earn $100 in free money on Cash App. Just remember#to make the most of these opportunities#you gotta understand how Cash App works#and utilize all the features it offers. Good luck#and happy earning!
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⍣ ೋ Rom-Com Gone Wrong
˚ · . bakugou katsuki x afab!reader
: ̗̀➛ takes place during their third year, mentions of injuries and blood, forced intake of aphrodisiac, unestablished relationship, mutual pining, love confession, both characters are 18, protected sex, implied unprotected sex, virgnity loss, misunderstandings, a bit angsty, bakugou is lowky ooc and gentle, this is really long
following a rough battle with a rather inconvenient villian and his quirk, y/n finds herself induced with aphrodisiac against her will. she wins the encounter, only to be told if she doesn't relieve her sexual desires within 24 hours with another individual she will die.
"i'll be the one to do it," mineta says, trying to sound nonchalant about the situation, flipping his non-existent hair off to the side if his shoulder. the girls, in unison, disagree verbally, knowing of his creepy tendencies.
"can't she just do it with a girl?" tsuyuri thinks aloud, attempting to find an easy way for you to feel more comfortable with the situation. "if that's the case, then i'll do it!" ashido declares, raising her hand in the air.
this has been the subject of conversation for the past hour or so. yes, your classmates and even teachers are conversing on what to do about your current state, on who will be the one to sleep with you. it's almost heartwarming, to know that your classmates care so much about you that they'd be willing to sleep with you if it means you'll live.
which is exactly what it means. exactly nine hours ago, you had a confrontation with a well-wanted villian. you knew of the risks, you knew of his horrendous and taboo quirk. you knew that he used his quirk to take advantage of women who were defenseless and practically leaving them for dead within 24 hours of interaction.
quirks like these were rare, none of your classmates nor teachers had any experience with this type of thing. originally, the teachers were going to discuss of this situation privately, but after almost three hours had gone by with no real possible solutions, they had decided to involve your dearest classmates to come up with something, anything to help save your life.
"no, according to the villian and the tiny information we were able to get out of him, it has to be done with a male." midnight had said, rubbing at her temple to ease her stress. your female classmates groaned with frustration, side-eyeing mineta with disgust.
"t-then i'll do it!" a new contender had volunteered. "y-you? y/n needs a real man, denki—," jirou had said, trying to play of her nervousness with a chuckle. "i agree." momo said sternly.
"no offense but.. how about the boys leave this discussion to the boys." she added on, having distrust in the intentions of her male classmates. "i know you boys just want to do what you can to help her, but we also have to think about how this will affect her mentally."
the topic carried on with the girls, occasionally one of the boys attempted to give a idea, but were almost immediately shot down due to it's risk.
admist to all the tension and debate, there was one who was uncharacteristically quiet. bakugou katsuki.
all of the boys were huddled into a circle, behind the girls, listening into their plan. however, it was bakugou who stuck out like a sore thumb. he kept his hands in his pockets, a rather stoic expression written onto his face as he stared up to the ceiling.
"i'll do it! you guys just gotta trust me!" mineta yelled once more, his body jolting with fear when he was met with clear resistance from the girls.
everyone was too wrapped up in figuring out a game-plan to even notice that bakugou had taken his leave, muttering a scoff at his classmates's immaturity and perversion.
he made his way to the dorms, his hand rubbing at the tense skin of his nape. bakugou stopped in his tracks, seemingly he wasn't the only one who had the same idea. his hands returned to their place in his pockets, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of his classmate, todoroki shouto, standing a few feet away from your dorm room.
"what are you doing here?" bakugou asked, resting his body weight on his right leg. todoroki looked back at bakugou calmly, observing the blonde's stiff movements. "i want to help y/n-san." todoroki stated, glancing back at the door of your room.
bakugou scoffed at his answer, rolling his eyes to the back of his head. "yeah right—you?" he hissed, coming up to todoroki and shoving him away from your door. "don't make me laugh. i'll be the one to do it."
todoroki stayed in place for a moment, blinking at bakugou's aggression and determination. he glanced once more at your door, and then back to bakugou before sighing with defeat and turning around to head god knows where.
bakugou scoffed once more, not taking his eyes off todoroki until he was well out of his sight. bakugou turned around, his red eyes staring intently at your door. he chewed on the walls of his mouth, wondering how to go about the situation.
as brash as he may be—he's not an idiot. he knows that if you don't end up getting any help within a few mere hours, you'll die. and thats not what he wants. to stand and watch while his dumb classmates argue over who will be the one to have the honor of having sex with you is something he won't abide with.
ೄྀ࿐
a soft moan escaped your lips at the feel of your fingers caressing against your sensitive folds. a drop of sweat ran down your flushed face, running down to your collarbone and dampening the sheer tank you were wearing.
there was a knot in your abdomen, a very tight knot, that has been yet to be undone. normally, when you had this kind of urge, you'd be able to satisfy it yourself. but it's been nearly eight hours since you'be been drugged, and the effects only get more and more intense with every passing minute.
you're tired. your body is coated in a thick layer of sweat, the room smells grossly of your own scent, and it's been eight hours—yet no release. tears sting at your waterline, your hand coming up to cover your pathetic whines and cries as your fingers scissor their way into your cunt, trying to find relief to your frustration.
you gasp with pleasure when your finger nails press ever so slightly against that one spot, hazy eyes going wide when you finally find it. your back arches off the bed, toes curling when you can barely press your fingerpads against that sweet spot, but nonetheless it's something.
your body jolts when you hear a light knock at your door, hands flying to grab onto your blanket to hide your half-naked body. you sat frozen on your bed, eyes watching the door.
a couple of moments later, once again the visitor knocked, snapping you out of your haze. you rushed to find any pajamas or clothes to wear, eventually settling on a pair of grey pajama shorts. the visitor knocks again once more, earning a groan from you. "g-give me a second!" you hiss loudly, dusting off your body and finally walking up to your door.
with a deep inhale, you open up your door a few inches, hiding your sweat-ridden body behind the large frame and peeking out your head to see the visitor.
your heart drops into your stomach at the sight of the familar blonde, his red eyes lidded low at you. "b-bakugou?" you stutter out, your cheeks blushing intensely when you feel your core throb at just the sight of him. "what... are you doing here?" you say, swallowing down the fat lump in your throat.
bakugou stares at you, his facial expressions uncharacteristically calm and unreadable. "..isn't it obvious?" he says nonchalantly, taking a step towards the door. his low tone heats up your body, making you impossibly warmer with embarrassment to top it off with your seemingly insatiable desire.
still, you don't move from the door, and if anything, push it forward so only a few centimeters remain between the frame and the door itself. your forehead rests against the wood, contemplating your options.
bakugou katsuki has come to your door to do the obvious with you. for many others, this would be a dream come true—and it almost is, for you, almost. tears cloud your vision once more at the thoughts that run throughout your head, he's only here because you'll die.
"let me in y/n,—", "no, i don't want you here." you interrupt, still hiding behind the door. bakugou's eyes widen slightly at your refrusal, not expecting you to shut him down given the situation.
to you, it's almost insulting—bakugou katsuki is here to have sex with you, to save you. your crush of many years, is here to have sex with you, but only because he feels the need to save you, not because he wants to.
bakugou sighs silently, he knows its a sensitive matter, that you're practically forced to have sex with someome that you possibly don't like just to live. his fists tighten up into a ball, his eyebrows furrowing at your stubbornness. but he won't have you die, he won't knowing he could help you.
"y/n. open the door or i'm going to break it down myself." he says sternly, his voice raising slightly. it sends shivers down your spine, but still you hold your ground. alas, you find it within yourself to close the door, only for it to be held open by bakugou who most definitely overpowers you when it comes to strength. with a grunt, your already weak arms give in, quickly dropping back to the floor as the door slams against the wall now that bakugou has won the short game of tug-o-war.
bakugou makes his way into your room, not even caring to check if the door handle has made a new hole in the wall. his mouth opens, ready to say something, only to purse into a straight line when he sees the tears flowing down your cheeks.
"i don't want you here." you mumble out, attempting to hide your tears by wiping them away as quick as they came.
with a grunt, bakugou is pulling you up to your feet, his hands gripping onto your shoulders while his lips smash against yours. the kiss is rough, almost uncomfortably stiff. and yet, you almost let out a moan of satisfaction just by him giving the worst kiss ever. he pulls away a moment later, his hands keeping you in place.
not like you'd be able to walk away even if you wanted, your gaze was fixated on his soft features, eyeing those lips of his. this time, it's bakugou whose walking away—and it's you who is running after him.
with haste, you push yourself forward to the blonde, your hand wrapping around his wrist and pulling him back to you. bakugou breathes out a grunt when your lips collide with his once more, desperate and clumsy, more teeth than tongue. you can't help but grab into bakugou's broad shoulders before finding better purchase by wrapping them around his neck, feet on all toes in order to reach his lips.
bakugou pulls away from you, quickly shutting the door and locking it. though, he barely has time to do the second, as soon as the door is closed, you're pushing him against it and shoving your body against his, encapturing his lips with yours once again. he swallows your desperate whines, his tongue fighting for dominance against yours. it's messy, it's not at all in sync—but just that alone has your body heating up than what you thought was possible.
and bakugou can feel it. his hands find purchase on the small of your waist—your skin is hot to the touch, almost fever hot. he raises an eyebrow when the feel of his skin on yours alone has you letting out a soft moan, much to your embarrassment. experimentally, bakugou's hands travel down to the curve of your ass, squeezing the plump flesh lightly, earning a gasp from your lips.
seeing this, bakugou pulls away from you, a fat string of saliva connecting the two of you. his red eyes watch you tortuously, watching the way your delicate features contort with pleasure as his hands explore your ass, his squeezes getting more and more rough as your body reacts. his finger glides up to the hems of your shorts, playing with the drawstrings and eventually pulling on one to untie the knot, allowing your flimsy excuse of so-called shorts to drop and lay around your feet.
your cheeks burn at the way he stares closely at your half-naked body, eyes darting down to the ground when you realize that you didn't even put on any underwear. to you, bakugou is eyeing your body, looking for any imperfections and unsatisfying marks.
but to bakugou, he has to hold back a groan by biting on his lower lip at the sight of your bare cunt. his hands tighten it's grip on your hips, attempting to keep his composure. bakugou finally pushes himself off the door, leading you quickly by the small of your waist to your bed.
with a gentle shove, you're laying down onto your back, your legs dangling off the edge of the mattress. your eyes widen when bakugou's hands grab the hems of his shirt, pulling it up to his head and discarding of his shirt, revealing his rather toned abs and few scars he's gained in the various fights he's gotten into as a hero.
your mouth is agape in awe, practically drooling at the sight of his fit muscles and small waist. without another word, your hand subconsciously reaches for him, generously touching the muscles of his abdomen. for the first time of the night, bakugou finally shows some emotion, smirking widely at your infatuation with his abs.
"i know i got some great abs, huh?" he grins, his hand coming up to rest on the flesh of your thigh. his grin flattens to an slightly agape 'O' when your hand travels down lower to his lower pelvis, your nails caressing the skin, sending shivers down his spine. dangerously, it continues, your fingers meddling with the edge of his baggy pants, circling the metal button.
before you could do anything else, bakugou is grabbing your hand away, and much to your surprise, settles himself inbetween your bare legs, eyeing your exposed cunt. naturally, you rush to close your legs, but are stopped by his hands that rest on both of your inner thighs.
"don't try to hide yourself from me." he growls lowly, his cock growing hard in his pants at the fuller sight of your glistening cunt. a yelp leaves your throat when you are pulled closer to the edge of your bed, cunt mere centimeters from bakugou's face. your eyes close shut, palm hiding your face in embarrassment.
"open your damn eyes, you're gonna watch as i eat this pretty pussy." he hisses out before blowing lightly onto your folds, enjoying the way your thighs shiver. with a lick of his lips, bakugou dives into your cunt, his tongue dragging across your folds and into your core. you let out a rather loud moan at the feel of his tongue exploring your cunt, your hands diving down to entangle themselves in his short blonde locks.
as told, you watch bakugou devour your poor pussy through tears, moaning into your palm to not let anyone hear the way you're getting eaten out by one of your classmates. your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel bakugou enter his index finger into your tight walls, massaging your gummy walls without mercy.
"bakugou.." you mewl out, back arching off the bed when you feel the knot in your stomach begin to unravel. the fingers tied in his hair pull tightly on his roots, earning a hum of satisfaction leave his lips, vibrating against your clit so deliciously it has you sobbing out his name within seconds and squirming within his tight hold as you cum. tears run down your cheeks as your body convulses with pleasure, eyebrows furrowed intensely as your first orgasm of the night washes over you.
a minute later, you finally come down to earth, chest heaving heavily as your eyes focus down to bakugou who licks up the remains of your delicious juices. it's so over stimulating, but it feels so good, the way his tongue laps up your cum as if he was a starved man.
for a second, you close your eyes, basking in the sweet after-glow of your orgasm before a familar vibrating sound snaps you out of your bliss. bakugou holds up the pink bullet-vibrator within his hand, cocking his head to the right. "this yours?" he asks teasingly, a sly grin painted into his face.
before you could respond, bakugou is pressing the bullet against your clit, sending waves of overstimulated pleasure up your spine. you wiggle and shift on your bed, attempting to get away from it, from him, but in the heat of the moment you seem to have forgotten of bakugou's trained strength. he pins your hips onto the bed with ease with one hand, and holds the bullet to your clit with the other.
he evilly chuckles into your cunt, his tongue gliding into your tight hole. your cries and pleas are melodies to his ears, and he only stops when your thighs are shaking for a second time around his head and your pussy walls are tightening up around his tongue. he hungrily laps up your fluids once more, the tip of his nose brushing up against your clit as he discards of the vibrator in order to grab onto the back of your thighs and practically smothers himself into your pussy.
finally, once he's deemed you cleaned up and not an ounce of your cum wasted, he pulls away from your drenched pussy. his chin glistens with your juices, his tongue lapping up any remains on his lips. his ruby red eyes watch as your chest heaves up and down, his hand grabbing your wrist that was covering your flushed face and discarding it to the side.
he passionately kisses you, not like the kisses you two shared earlier. rather, your inhaling his heavy breaths as his hips roll subconsciously into yours, his hard-on poking against your inner thigh. "bakugou.." you exhaled against his lips, your hand sliding inbetween your close bodies to palm his confined cock.
bakugou lets out a almost pained groan, his eyebrows furrowing at the feel of your hand brushing against his cock's tip. "fuck.." he groans, his head dipping down to your chest when your hand slides below his trousers and over his confined boner. "wanna help you too bakugou," you mumble shyly, batting those pretty eyelashes at him.
the tempered blonde seems to have been frozen in place at your unexpected boldness, his cock growing impossibly harder at your words. he curses under his breath when your hand glides in between the gap of his boxers, your fingers coming into contact with the skin of his cock.
you're so unexpected. it's all bakugou can ever think of. unlike all the others, you've surprised him the most. you've surprised him with your wits—instead of strength and speed. no matter how mean or offensive he's been to you, you've been nothing but a saint—going so far to even nurse him back to health after a particularly aggressive battle with a villian.
thats why he had to be the one to help you. after all you've done for him, he had to return the favor in the one time he could save your life, even if it meant having sex would save you. he wasn't about to let those ungrateful, clueless extras do it with you either when they didn't deserve the opportunity to have you so vulnerable for them.
and having sex with you doesn't seem too bad, not in the slightest. especially not when your hand is pumping his cock so deliciously. bakugou's lips apart slightly, a sharp gasp escaping when your palm tightens around his sensitive cock.
you jolt when bakugou's own hand wraps around your wrist firmly, practically slapping it away from his cock. you look up at him with filmy eyes, looking for an explanation within his own. "gotta focus on you," he mumbles under his breath, his hands coming down to your hips and dragging you down to him.
bakugou finally begins to undo his belt, the metal buckle causing your ears to tingle. he pushes down his pants to his lower thighs, for a second he glances up at you, to which you can see a small glimpse of the red tint that covers the apples of his cheeks and the way he stares intently at your features, most likely waiting to see your reaction.
he slides his dark red boxers down to the middle of his thighs, just enough to free his cock of his uncomfortable confines. and, just wow, maybe it's because you're quite literally drugged with a sex drug, or maybe he's just that perfect—but just the sight of his cock has your pathetic pussy walls clenching and throbbing around nothing.
your mouth salivates at the mere thought of his cock, and just now seeing it—god you just want him to fuck you already. without a thought, your hand reaches once more for him, only for bakugou to pin your wrist down to the side of your body, his own climbing on top of the bed. your legs come to rest on each sides of his hips, his thighs underneath yours while he sits on his knees.
it seems you're not the only one so horny, afterall, as bakugou wrapped his hand around cock, his hips inching closer to yours, his body jolted, eyes widening. his sudden movement has your heart dropping in your stomach, a cold sweat breaking out on your body. "w-what? what is it?" you stutter out, your hand crossing defensively over your clothed chest.
bakugou's cheeks seem to bloom more a shade of red as he leans back, searching for something in his pocket. "hah.. i almost forgot the condom.." he says, taking out the unmistaken small square packet out of his pocket.
you chuckle lightly at the mistake, feeling embarrassment for yourself as well. to think that you two were so wrapped up in the heat of the moment that you almost forgot the condom gives such a strange feeling in your stomach.
finally, bakugou puts the condom on, a bit shaky with embarrassment as he slides it on. all prepared, he looks up at you—possibly the calmest you've ever seen him, but there's a hint of seriousness and maybe even care with the way his eyebrows are furrowed lightly or how his eyes never leave your face.
"ready?" he asks cautiously, his hand gripped onto the underside of your thigh with the other resting on the side of your lower stomach. with your nod of approval, bakugou meets his thighs to your ass, his cock tip pressing lightly against your virgin hole.
before bakugou could go any further, your soft sobs stop him. his head immediately snaps up to yours, his eyes wide with shock. your eyes are once again wet with tears, eyebrows arched and lips frowning.
"i know this is not very convenient, y/n, but if we don't do this, you'll die-", he tries to say before he's interrupted by your sobs and hiccups. through fat tears and incoherent sentences, you finally manage to say something clear.
"it's not that." you practically hiss, surprising the blonde. "..then what is it?" he urges, a confused expression forming on his face. with a loud sigh, you groan loudly with anger and sadness, practically throwing your hands to your face as you try to wipe away your never-ending tears.
"i d-didn't want it to be like t-this!" you sob loudly, your shoulders jumping with every hiccup. before bakugou could press any further, the years of untold suffering and thoughts just came rushing to you, spilling out of your mouth like vomit. "i-i didn't w-want it to be l-like this! to happen like this!"
"oh my g-god! bakugou i've been in love with you since i've m-met you—and it–it hurts—for it to happen this way—you're only doing this just b-because you f-feel obligated to do i-it—not because you l-love me—" you mumble out, hands covering your eyes to avoid seeing his reaction.
"for it to ha-happen this way—it's like a whole prank..! like a fucking—slap in the face!" you say, practically yelling the last part as your hands fly down to the bed with frustration, finally meeting bakugou's gaze. your sobs quiet down, stomach churning at the realization of the word vomit you just had.
you thought he would be weirded out, maybe even make fun of you for it. but instead, bakugou is now looking at you with an unfamiliar gaze, full of something that seems to just be more than politeness and friendly care. sure, he's not smiling, but the way his red eyes are half-lidded, pupils dilated so big they might as well just be black, his eyebrows no longer furrowed but instead arched upwards with what seems to be surprise.
before you could say anything else, waves of sharp pain are shot up your spine as bakugou unexpectedly pushes in the tip of his cock, his arms now finding purchase by wrapping around your waist, lowering himself closer to you.
his lips press yours, slow and steady as he inches his fat cock into you. he pulls away from your lips with a grunt, his eyebrows arched downwards as he tries to set aside the way your cunt feels so heavenly wrapped around the end of his cock.
"i'm sorry for how i've been treating you." he says lowly, his teeth nipping at the pristine skin of your collarbone. "i just didn't know how to tell you—didn't think you felt the s-same," he breathes out, stuttering the last word when your walls clench around his cock. bakugou curses under his breath, trying to ground himself by pawing at your clothed breasts, sliding his hands under your tank to feel the bare skin.
bakugou's words has fresh tears forming once again at your water line. "the same..?" you think out loud, a hiccup escaping your throat at the realization.
"f-fuck, y/n—," he chokes out, his balls becoming flush with the curve of your ass. "bakugou.. the same?" you urge on, a small gasp leaving your lips when his cock tip glazes against your sweet spot. it takes bakugou to find the strength to answer, but he does with a groan, rising his upper body to have a better look at the sight of you.
"..yes the same you dummy." he finally confirms, his eyes unable to lock with yours, instead choosing to glue themselves to the sight of your tight pussy swallowing his cock. without wasting another second, your hands fly to his nape, pulling him back down to kiss him roughly. the two of you moan into the kiss, your hands desperately exploring the skin of his back while his continue to grope and massage your breasts.
"hah—i just couldn't allow it.. i didn't want the others to have you.." he groans out, his hips speeding up against yours. his teeth bite at your breasts possessively, leaving dark red marks over the unmarked flesh. his possessiveness sends a shiver up your spine, making you impossibly more hornier than you thought possible.
"baku—katsuki," you mewl out, your fingernails digging trails of red into the skin of his back. his head nods silently at your use of his first name, his ears tingling intensely.
his head tilts up to face yours, unprepared for what you were about to say. "please fuck me. i need you."
with a few words of heavy profanity, all previously known touches of gentleness are thrown out the window and bakugou is throwing your leg over shoulder and practically folding you in half. bakugou is quick to cover your mouth with his palm, if not your screams of pleasure would be heard by all the other people in these dorms—and he's not quite on board with any nobodies hearing your pretty moans.
bakugou practically jackhammers his hips into yours, his cock tip bullying your cervix. your eyes roll to the back of your head at the foreign feeling of your cervix being fucked, of your cunt being mercilessly destroyed by a fat cock. your hand flies up to the head board, desperately attempting to find purchase on anything to keep you grounded.
his cock grazing your sweet spot has you screaming once more into his palm, creaming around him for the first time that night. "f-fuck—" bakugou curses loudly, his teeth drawing blood on his lower lip in an attempt to hide own moans.
your cunt walls have a vice grip on his cock, practical almost leaving him unable to move as you cum around him. still, bakugou works his hips in and out, doing everything in his power to prevent himself from cumming just yet.
in an last ditch effort to do so, bakugou lifts his palm up from your mouth, flipping your body so you lay onto your stomach. he's quick to shove his cock back into your overstimulated cunt, rutting into you like a dog in heat. bakugou doesn't find it within himself to care when you're moaning so loud that the first floor can probably hear you, neither does he care that he's fucking you so hard that the bed frame begins to slam against the wall.
all he cares about is destroying your cunt, destroying you, something he's been wanting to do since he's met you. "fuck, fuck, fuck, y/n you feel so fuckin' good—i'm gonna cum," he babbles, his cock growing hard at the sight of your fat ass bouncing with every impact of his thrusts.
you're no better off than him, moaning his name desperately like a mantra. bakugou finally comes with a sharp and deep thrust, pushing his cock so deep it has the tip flush with your bruised cervix. he groans incoherent words, most likely profanities, as he cums into the condom, his hands gripping on the swell of your hips as he tries to ground himself.
you cum just at the unmistaken warmth that pools inside of you, tongue lolling out of your mouth pathetically. your body twitches underneath his weight, hands weakly grabbing onto his biceps. "katssshuki.." you mewl out, stars practically twinkling in your eyes.
bakugou pulls out of you with a sharp inhale, taking off the filled condom. his cock twitches when you stop him just as he's about to throw away, taking the cum-filled latex from his hand and holding it over your mouth, allowing the cum to drip onto your tongue and into your throat.
he watches you with wide eyes as you practically suck the cum out of the condom before throwing it into the trash bin on the side of your bed. you look at him with a grin, licking your lips generously before giggling.
bakugou's face twitches uncontrollably, any remains of the composure and the obvious "better safe than sorry", he has left is discarded before he practically pounces on you like a wild beast.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
bakugou is jolted awake, his eyes darting to the door of your room. theres a couple of knocks, his eyes look for your clock, '5:04 AM'.
he shuts his eyes, fully okay with ignoring the late visitor before theres more knocks. bakugou, begrudgingly, gets up, only because he doesn't want you to wake up.
he wraps his lower body in a spare blanket, taking a few seconds to rub awaken more before he's inching the door open, just barely enough to see who the visitor is. though, his shoulders relax when he sees it's just mr. aizawa at the door, most likely checking up on your state.
mr. aizawa blinks unexpectedly at bakugou, surely not expecting him to answer the door. his expression softens at the realization, being quick to offer an explanation. "i was just coming here to see if y/l/n was alright.. but i see it's under control, right?"
aizawa punctuates the last word of his sentence with the tilt of his head, his eyes pointing out bakugou's half-naked body. bakugou in response sheepishly shrugs, muttering out a groggy 'yeah' before closing the door.
he stands at the closed door for a second, rubbing his eyes tiredly before turning around to go back to bed, your bed more specifically. he stops in his tracks for a moment before continuing, seeing that you're now sitting up and staring at him.
"katsuki.." you breathe out tiredly, practically purring when you feel his hand settle onto your hip, bringing you back down onto the bed with him.
the two of you share a chaste kiss, departing only to get a short breathe in before you're pushing your body against his, deepening the kiss once more for the nth time that night.
please like and reblog with tags
#bakugou x reader angst#bakugou katsuki angst#bakugou x reader smut#bakugou katsuki smut#mha bakugou#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou smut#bakugou katuski x reader#my hero academia fluff#my hero academia angst#my hero academia smut
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kook!sweetheart!reader participating in a charity car wash and rafe is there as her big manly body guard to scare off anyone who ogles her in her tiny bikini >.<
warnings: jealous!rafe, john b & jj & pope make an appearance lol, a littleee bit of an altercation
rafe wasn’t happy about this. at all.
“oh, how generous of you!” you took the hundred dollar bill from one of the regulars at the country club, blowing him a kiss as he rode away in his sparkling clean car. “was the kiss really necessary?” rafe grumbled, pulling you against his sun tanned skin. you giggled, your hand coming up to stroke the side of his face. “yes. maybe then he’ll tell his golf buddies to come down here and empty their wallets too.”
sensing your boyfriend’s distress, you turned around in his hold. “hey..” you cupped his cheeks, “we only have to be out here for one more hour, okay? think you could hold out from punching someone in the face?” rafe laughed, both of his hands squeezing your ass as he pulled you in for a kiss. hearing it before you felt it, you yelped when rafe slapped the globes of your butt.
“you’re terrible!” you pushed him away playfully, both of you watching as none other than the twinkie pull into the country club’s parking lot. “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” rafe was quick to go up to the van, john b, jj, and pope all smiling at him innocently. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” rafe kicked the door, making you gasp. “rafe!” you scolded, quickly making your way over to pull him away.
“woah, man! we just wanted a wash. is your girl available?” you flashed jj a look, reaching for rafe’s arm. “like you can afford it.” rafe scoffed, his fists clenching at his sides. “i bet you i can.” it was silent for a moment, your heart dropping when rafe attempted to reach for jj inside the twinkie. “john b, do something!” you panicked, your strength comparing to nothing against rafe’s.
john b stopped laughing, separating them before pulling out a twenty dollar bill. “okay, alright! on a serious note though, can she just get cleaned up?” rafe shoved the bill against john b’s chest, spitting a ‘keep your pocket change, asshole.’ as you shook your head. “i don’t think that’s a good idea.” rafe finally let down, pulling you into his side. “aw, come on! i’ll make it fifty if you lather up for me.”
your eyes widened, jj wearing a smug look on his face. “motherfucker-” the twinkie sped off before rafe could lunge at it again, pope’s laughter echoing out of the parking lot. “i hate them.” rafe was seething at this point, his skin hot as he grabbed the small box your money was in. “go tell your friends you’re leaving, i’ll pay the rest of what you need.” without wanting to argue, you quickly told your friends bye before joining rafe in his truck.
“are you mad at me?” apart of you felt pathetic for asking, but with the way rafe was gripping the steering wheel, you couldn’t help but say something. “no, babe, i’m not mad at you,” he sighed, “i just can’t stand those fucking pogues.” he cursed, grabbing your hand. “you promise?” rafe pressed a kiss to your knuckles before turning on the engine. “i promise.” you sighed in relief.
“gotta’ get you home now. m’gonna rip that poor excuse of a bikini right off of you.”
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ rafe#₊˚⊹♡ kook!sweetheart!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#obx#obx smut#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx rafe#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#outerbanks rafe
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Love & Deepspace NSFW Headcannons
Part Two
Pairing: L&DS Main 4 x Reader
Warnings: P in V, consensual somnophilia, squirting, praise kink, over stimulation, pussy eating, sexting, phone sex, leashes, top/bottom dynamics, dry humping (ask me to add more if I missed any)
A/N: This is my first time writing for L&DS so I’m a bit nervous! Not super organized, just my overall thoughts and observations. Please feel free to leave questions, comments or requests in my askbox!
ZAYNE
Bit of a perv and loves to keep a pair of your underwear in a locked drawer in his office for “late nights at the hospital”
Will top at most times but has been known to let you take control and cum really hard when you do
Takes his time on his off day making you cum an ungodly amount of times, most times however it’s just a quicky to help relieve some stress in the pockets of free time you both have
Sexting is big for the both of you (also phone sex), he loves to hear the way you call out for him
Doesn’t make a lot of noise but when he does you know he’s close
Love missionary so he can look in your eyes and watch you cum (and monitor if you might’ve overdone it since he is your doctor)
XAVIER
He loves to wake up to you humping his hard on and makes quick work to satisfy you
Loves dry humping overall and cumming in his clothes
Service top, loves when you order him around
Loves to wear a collar and be on a leash (probably the most kink friendly)
Very noisy in bed and loves to hear you moan for him
Favorite position is anything where you’re on top where he can see your body bouncing on him
RAFAYEL
Pussy whipped to high heavens
He would say he’s a top but he is a SWITCH! Loves being in both roles and loves it more when you go back and forth in a single session
He will do anything to be in between your legs (merman’s gotta get his water from somewhere)
Heightened smell means he can’t get enough of how good you smell (and he knows when you want him)
Talks so much and LOVES to be praised (even if it makes him embarrassed at times)
Loves to feel your body pressed against him and rutting into you
SYLUS
Overstimulation is the name of the game, no orgasm denial here! It’s orgasm overload and you’ll be feeling it for days
Service top! Will do literally anything you ask but he will be a tease about it
Loves to eat you out without care for how much your legs shake and will drink your squirt like water
Not super rough unless you ask but loves to leave a mark or two
Not much of a moaner but loves to grunt and sometimes growl
Doggystyle is his favorite cause he loves to slam you onto him
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x you#love and deepspace x mc#love and deepspace xavier#love and deepspace zayne#love and deepspace rafayel#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace scenarios#zayne love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#lads#lads mc#lads xavier#lads sylus#lads zayne#lads rafayel#lads x reader#lads smut#lnds#lnds sylus#lnds zayne#lnds xavier#lnds rafayel#lnds x reader#lnds smut#lnds mc
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im absolutely in love with dealer!theo and your writing style!!! could you pretty please write more for him? 🥹🥹
“there she is…” theo drawls in a low, husky voice, his imposing and intimidating face instantly lighting up at the sight of you. he takes one last quick drag from his cigarette before tossing it to the ground, casually putting it out with the heel of his shoe.
“my favourite customer. missed me already, sweetheart?” you feel your cheeks heat up at his flirty remark, a wide, flustered smile uncontrollably tugging at your glossy lips.
“mhm, always. can’t you tell, baby?” he chuckles in response, shaking his head slightly in surprised amusement as he momentarily glances at the ground, clearly taken aback. when his eyes move back up, you notice him quickly checking you out, eyes scanning your body and lingering on your tits for a moment before they finally land on your charming, captivating eyes that drive him wild each time.
“what can i do for you, ma’am?” he questions, his tall frame slowly inching closer to you as he unconsciously bites his busted lip, your eyes narrowing when you notice the healing but still visible wound.
“what happened?!” you blurt out, both curiosity and worry evident on your pretty face, filling him with a sudden, indescribable warmth.
“nothin’ you gotta worry your pretty head over.” he begins, trying to dismiss it, but you continue to stare at him with furrowed brows, clearly not accepting it as an answer. “just, uh, heard some guys on the street call you names behind your back when we met last time. can’t let anyone disrespect my customers like that, y’know? especially not my favourite one.”
you unconsciously tilt your head to the side, eyes narrowed as you study his expression, trying to determine whether he’s speaking the truth or if it’s another one of his flirty gestures— but as far as you can tell with your fair amount of human knowledge, he seems to be speaking the truth.
“well… i don’t need a man to take care of me.” you begin, teasingly smiling as you gaze up at him through your eyelashes, your thumb then carefully brushing over the painful-looking wound. “but uh, thank you. that’s very sweet, i appreciate it.” you say softly, before your voice turns more stern. “don’t get into fights because of me again though— i mean, who do i go to when you’re on ‘sick leave’?”
he lets out a deep laugh, eyes still glued to yours. “yes, ma’am… no more fights.” he responds, his hand giving a playful but lazy salute as he smiles warmly at you. his expression then gradually softens as his eyes shift to your lips, and it’s quiet for a moment, the pent-up tension only building, and for a split second, it feels like your lips are uncontrollably gravitating towards his like a magnet— but then he breaks the silence.
“so, uhm… what is it gonna be this time?”
“oh, uh, just the usual. you— you still got some?”
“for you? ‘course i do.” he reaches into the pockets of his jacket and takes out a tiny bag filled with fine, white powder that glistens in the light, playfully dangling it in front of you while you reach for your own pockets to grab some cash.
“how much do i owe you?” you ask, but instead of giving you a clear answer, he leans towards you and swiftly moves his arm around your body, slipping the small, clear bag into the back pocket of your jeans.
“nothin’. this one’s on me, pretty girl.” he whispers as he cheekily winks at you, his deep voice and warm hand on your ass making your heart race, before he slowly slips his hand out again. “but don’t think this is gonna happen each time, a’ight? next time you’re gonna have to just pay— with a kiss, at least.”
ੈ♡˳
reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡
#i love writing about them before they start dating#♡₊˚ for arina 🍒・₊#dealer!theo#theodore nott#theo nott#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#theodore nott blurb#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott drabble#theo nott blurb#theo nott imagine#theo nott drabble#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x fem!reader#theodore nott x female reader#theo nott x you#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x female reader#theo nott x fem!reader#theo nott fluff#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott fic#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott fanfic#theo nott fanfic#theo nott fic#theo nott fanfiction#slytherin boys
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mayberry | t.o
tyler owens x fem!reader
based on this request: Requesting one, where Tyler and his crew chasing the tornado as casual but there's a twist (it can be a happy or angst ending) what if the tornado they chase was heading to where reader lives, today he was planning on asking her to move on with him after they finished another successful on making the tornado gone yet when he noticed where it was going he drives faster and trying to outrun the tornado.
warnings: descriptions of tornadoes, reader loses her house, blood, cuts.
w/c: 1.8k
requests open
not proofread
Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
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“shes a pistol, ty. hope you can handle her” javier begins, removing his sunnies and leans against his white truck while looking at tyler across the driveway of your mothers house.
tyler smiles to himself at the mention of you. he looks in his wallet, a picture of you and him at a rodeo. you’re wearing his red flannel and white cowboy hat as you kiss his cheek.
a picture he treasured most. no one knew about this picture in his wallet. it was his own little secret, you didn’t even know he had the polaroid.
tyler and you both majored in meteorology throughout your time in college. storm chasers had a limited dating pool. nobody was willing to chase after these monstrous storms in such a way and then return to laugh about it over a few beers.
that’s why he took such a liking to you.
tyler didn't try to hide his feelings first. he would constantly try to convince you to go out with him or do something else, but you would never accept his advances. you didn't believe that you could put up with his ego.
till you began chasing with him.
since then, you saw a side of him that you didn’t know. tyler was a kind hearted man, caring for the people that fell victim to these storms. he was so intelligent that it made you rethink your own decisions, that was rare.
before you knew it, you started falling for tyler owens. the rest is history.
“i’m thinkin bout asking her to move in with me after we get this storm tonight.” tyler confesses to javier, a sly smirk on his face. javier’s eyebrows raise, cocking his hip to the side and crossing his arms.
“you think she’ll say yes?”
tyler presses his lips into a thin smile, stuffing his wallet into his back pocket where it belongs. “i hope so.” he answers, looking up towards the house.
tyler had decided it was time to take the next step with you. he had been thinking about asking you to move in with him for a while now, and he was sure it was the right decision.
he loved you deeply and couldn’t imagine his life without you. he wanted to wake up next to you every morning, cook breakfast together, and spend evenings cuddled up on the couch watching movies.
the thought of you living together filled him with excitement and joy, and he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when he popped the question.
“guys!” lilly hollers, exiting the rv, running towards the pair. “we have huge activity southeast. we gotta move, now!”
there’s a tension that settled in over the group as they all scrambled to get their things together and radars ready.
tyler’s first thought was you. he takes off, boots stomping in the puddles as he swings the screen door open.
“y/n?” he hollers, taking his sunglasses off.
“up here!” you answer, drying your hair after a shower.
you watch in the mirror as tyler appears in the doorway, “whats up?” you ask, dropping your hand by your sides. “there’s one southeast. big one.” he’s almost grinning hoping to get you excited but his smile drops when you don’t react.
there’s a silence as you begin to rake product through the ends of your hair. “cmon, we don’t wanna miss it. lilly says it’ll touch down in an hour at least.”
“m’not goin” you reply, looking into his eyes from the mirror. “what? whaddya mean?”
“it’s mom” you answer, followed by a sigh. “she’s doing bad again, she’s freaking out over it and i’m just gonna stay with her. the house isn’t in the path so it should be fine” you say, turning to him.
you can see a soft frown on his lips as he looks down at you, “we always chase together.”
you smile sadly, and nod. you let your hand come up and caress his cheek. “i know, darlin. we’ll get the next one i promise.”
you press a quick kiss on his lips, “be safe, baby.” he replies, kissing the top of your head and heading off with the crew.
the atmosphere was thick and heavy with a sense of impending doom as the tornado began to take shape. the clouds churned and wracked, twisting into a massive, menacing funnel cloud. the noise was deafening, a high-pitched roar that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
gusts of wind howled like a beast, tearing at anything in their path. this was no ordinary twister; this was an EF5, the most powerful and destructive tornado there was. it loomed on the horizon, a sinister harbinger of disaster.
tyler, now chasing the storm, was strapped into his well-worn red dodge. his eyes fixed on the churning sky as he chased a massive storm through the southeast landscapes. his truck was a trusted companion, having borne him through countless weather events.
its engine roared confidently as tyler navigated the treacherous terrain, seeking the perfect position to observe the storm up close and capture its raw power. he was fueled by a deep passion for the spectacle of the weather and driven by the adrenalin rush of being in the heart of the swirling chaos.
“you seein this, T?!” boone hollers from the passenger seat. “i’m seein it boone!” he yells back, knuckles white on the steering wheel.
tyler doesn’t remove his eyes from the storm raging in the wheat field, but something feels off. something isn’t right.
“what is it, ty?” javier calls over the radio noticing his decreasing speed. tyler is too mesmerized by the black clouds, he doesn’t reply. “T?” boone calls.
“something’s wrong.” he mumbles, “the path..the path is changing!” he says hurriedly watching the surroundings.
lilly pipes from the backseat, “its moving northwest! heading straight for mayberry!”
“shit.” tyler hits his steering wheel before making a sharp turn, turning around.
“the path is shifting!” boone alerts over the radio.
tyler’s heart launched in his chest watching the twister hurtling towards the small town where you lived. he’d often worried about this, and now his worst nightmare was unfolding before his eyes.
his grip tightened on the steering wheel, and his eyes darkened as he gunned the engine, pushing the red dodge to its limits. he had to get to you, had to make sure you were safe. his mind raced as he calculated how much time he had, the seconds ticking away in an excruciating countdown.
there was no warning, the storm was moving too unpredictably. you should’ve monitored it closer, you should’ve been more prepared.
the house trembled violently as the tornado tore through the neighborhood.
the windows shattered, spraying glass everywhere. the walls creaked and groaned, buckling under the immense pressure of the onslaught.
pictures fell from the walls, their frames splattering on the floor. furniture was hurled around like toys, breaking apart as it smashed into the remaining walls.
“mom!” you holler, staying low to the ground reaching out for her. she takes your hand and you pull her close to your body.
“hold on tight!” you scream.
the two of you huddled together, their screams blending into the cacophony, their eyes wide with terror. outside, the world had become a blur of debris and chaos, the swirling vortex ripping everything apart in its path.
tyler stepped out of his truck followed by boone and lilly. his heart thudding heavily in his chest as he saw the destruction hoping beyond hope that she was safe. but the sight that greeted him was a nightmare. your once-cheerful home had been reduced to a pile of rubble, the remnants of your life scattered among the wreckage. the tornado had ripped through the property, leaving destruction in its wake.
the property wasn’t recognizable, the only way he knew it was your home was your white jeep wrapped around the willow tree.
tyler’s hands come up and run thorough his hair, “oh god..” he breathes. “jesus christ..” boone says just above a whisper.
tyler can’t let his emotions get the best of him. he needed to find you.
“y/n!” he hollers.
“y/n!” lilly screams. “ms.l/n” boone calls for your mom.
tyler pushes his way through the debris, his eyes scanning the rubble for any sign of you.
he continued to pulled lumber, pillars, glass and furniture for what felt like hours. “y/n!” his heart thudding against his chest with every moment that passed. panic clawed at his gut as he continued his desperate search.
finally, he heard a faint sound, like a whimper. he turned, and there you were, buried under a pile of rubble.
his breath caught in his throat as he carefully dug you out, his hands trembling.
as your face came into view, it was smeared with dirt and blood, but your eyes widened with relief as you saw him. “t?” you rasp.
he gently picked you up, cradling you against him like a fragile doll.
"i'm here," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "im here, and you're going to be okay."
you wince, standing on the unstable ground. “mom..” you croak, tears brimming down your eyes again. “she’s down there..”
tyler nods, he looks back at boone and was about to go down and search for her but boone stops him. “i got her.”
boone disappears in the pile of rubble, then he emerges with your mother in his arms. “we need an ambulance!”
tyler nods and leaves you with lilly to call for first responders.
“‘m fine, t.” you say, say in the back of the ambulance. “just makin sure..” he whispered taking your arm in his hands and scanning your skin. he needed to make sure you weren’t seriously injured, even though you were just checked out by ems.
“t..” you sighs as he continues, his hand snow on either side of your face moving your head around still checking. “tyler.” you call him again, this time your hands gripping his wrists.
his eyes meet yours, the sign of tears still staining your cheeks. “i’m okay, i promise” you assure, smiling. “jus glad you made it to me, how’d you know?”
tyler shrugs, “the wind started morning north, learned it from you.” he answers, coming to your side and pulling you in.
you stay there for a while, the sirens flooding your ears and the lights illuminating the place where your home once stood. tyler rubs your shoulders and pulls the emergency blanket tighter around your body.
you lean your head against his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. “is now a bad time to ask if you want to live with me?” he looks down at you.
“what?” you look up at him.
and maybe it wasn’t the right time, but he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to ask you.
“live with me. hell, bring your mom. i don’t care, just..” he reaches for your hand. “i just know that i love you and i want you around even more than you already are.” he laughs lightly, continuing to rub your shoulder.
“i would love to live with you.”
tyler smiles proudly, squeezing you closer to his side.
“now i just needa marry you.”
#bartxnhood writes#bartxnhood asks#tyler owens smut#tyler owens angst#tyler owens fluff#tyler owens fanfic#tyler owens twisters#tyler owens x y/n#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens#twisters fanfiction#twisters fanfic#twisters#kate carter
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Golden Cufflinks | JJK
▻ Golden Cufflinks ↳ Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader ⤜ Best Friend's Fiance, Strangers to True Mates ⤜ A/B/O AU | angst, smut, fluff ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 11,742 ⤜ Summary: You’ve never given much thought to finding your true mate, firmly believing it’s something that will happen when it happens. But, when you do find him—thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks—it very well could ruin everything. They say not all’s fair in love and war; you just hadn’t expected your best friend’s wedding to be the battleground. ⚠️ Crass language, talk of designation hierarchy, mild talk of misogynistic practices of the past, confessions of cheating(not by main pairing), anger/arguments, kissing, dick sucking, mild cum intrigue, maybe mild breeding kink if you squint, unprotected v. sex, knotting, lots of slick and cum
Written for @hisunshiine as part of the 2nd Quarter 2023 @bangtanwritershq Awards Season! A/N: Congratualtions, Vanessa. You deserve all the kudos for a job well done during the 2nd Quarter 2023, I hope you enjoy the story!
A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi, @lo1k-diamonds, @moonleeai for the amazing beta services!
Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad
Nerves flutter in your belly as you gather your belongings from the plastic bin at the end of the rolling conveyor belt on the other side of security. As you walk away, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you have to juggle your purse and jacket to retrieve it.
You feel bad for making Hayun, your best friend for as long as you can remember, wait for a response, but you desperately just want to find your gate and have a seat first. Once you find it and settle in at a chair by the big windows looking out on the tarmac, you thumb to her contact.
“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d probably hate you right now for making me wait so long for a response,” Hayun sasses before her voice softens, “Hello, I love you.”
“Love you, too, girl,” you say, unable to help the smile that tilts your lips up. “Sorry, I’ve been MIA for the last few hours. Things have been hectic. I misplaced my passport this morning, but I finally found it under the bed and then missed the hotel shuttle. I had to call a rideshare, but of course, it took them forever to get through airport traffic, and ugh…” you trail off with a sigh. “I’m sitting down for the first time since I woke up this morning.”
Which was approximately four hours ago at this point. Your flight is set to take off less than an hour from now, so you imagine boarding might start soon. You’re not exaggerating when you say it’s been hectic. It was bad enough waking up at 3 AM, but you’re a chronic planner and stickler for time, so missing your flight was the absolute last thing you wanted to happen.
“Oh, babe, that sucks. I’m glad it’s all worked out, though. I really can’t wait to see you!”
The conversation passes quickly, easing your heart and mind as you catch up on the last twenty-four hours. You haven’t seen Hayun in a handful of years. Her career took her to the other side of the world, and yours kept you where you both grew up. The last time you saw her was through a haze of tears at this very airport when she boarded a plane destined for Seoul, South Korea, where she was adopted from at just two years old.
Visiting each other was always something you both talked about. But, as with most things, life just happens, and eventually, you find yourself making that visit you always talked about for reasons you never considered before—like your best friend tying the knot with a guy you’ve never met.
Sure, you’ve seen pictures of him and have heard him talk in the background of most of the phone calls you’ve exchanged with Hayun over the last few years. But, it was never on your friendship bingo card that the next time you’d find yourself seeing your best friend, it would be her at her wedding.
“I gotta go. They’re about to start boarding.”
“I’ll see you when you land. Can’t wait!”
Hayun disconnects the call, and you gather your belongings to prepare to line up in the boarding queue. It will be a long flight, but seeing Hayun again after so long apart will be worth it.
You fiddle with the bracelet on your left wrist, twisting and pinching at the silver moon charm dangling from the thin chain. Hayun has a matching one. They were presents from your parents on the day you were both recognized with your designations; she was thirteen, and you were fifteen.
The dynamics of Alphas and Omegas have long since changed from what it once was. Legend has it that once upon a time, an Alpha and an Omega were closer to their wolf-kin than how the world is now. Thanks to evolution and science, the only things remaining from that time are the more basic bodily functions—scents, knots, and slick, to sum it up.
The crescent charm on your wrist symbolizes your designation—Omega. But being an Omega doesn’t hold much meaning for you. You don’t feel all that special, and it’s not like you’re rare or any more or less capable than the next person. As it stands, you can see at least a dozen other moons jangling from bracelets, waiting to board the same plane you are.
There are also necklaces, tattoos, and other ways to display a designation scattered around the waiting area. The how of it is mostly regional, sometimes generational. The Beta standing behind you in the queue has a teardrop earring dangling from their left ear, and if it weren’t for the pheromone blockers you took this morning, you might be able to smell their unique scent.
You also have your own smell, a scent that is just you. You’ve been told it’s a sweet, citrusy bouquet like lemonade on a hot summer afternoon. However, also thanks to the blockers, it remains suppressed to the point someone would have to make you bleed or press their nose so firmly against your throat it hurts to smell it.
There really is only one thing that a lot of people are envious of when it comes to an Omega’s designation, and that is that they supposedly have an Alpha true mate out there somewhere that will call to their baser nature. It’s such a rare phenomenon these days that it might as well be part of the legends of old, too.
The bottom line is that no one cares about subgenders anymore; it doesn't matter whether your charm is the Omega crescent, the teardrop of a Beta, or the triskelion denoting an Alpha. In fact, you’re pretty sure you could ask the Beta for their earring and offer them your charm bracelet and no one would bat an eye over it.
Though you’d never do that, considering the chain around your wrist isn’t technically yours. The night after you presented as Omega, when you snuck away with Hayun to lay on a blanket under the stars and moon that was so like the charm hanging from your twin bracelets, you giggled as you exchanged them. Her tiny fingers trembled against your wrist as she secured her silver chain around it. You did the same with your own around hers a second later.
It was that night that you both swore always to be friends. No matter what happened in life or where either of you ended up, you would always remain true to one another. So far, your friendship has been unfailing, a constant thread of comfort and light for you both. No matter how long it’s been, the charm still smells faintly of your best friend—a perk of the charms themselves, holding a token essence of their owners. Hers holds a soft lilac and jasmine scent that you’ve always thought complimented your own citrus notes.
The flight attendant scanning boarding passes beckoning you forward breaks you out of your internal reflections. With a full heart and giddy anticipation curling in your belly, you find your seat and settle in.
It’s a long flight, longer than most flights you’ve taken. But when you finally walk off the plane, make it through customs and immigration, and finally empty into the arrivals terminal of the Incheon Airport, you feel immediate relief, and the hours spent in the air don’t seem so bad.
“Hey, over here!” a familiar voice calls out, catching your attention.
You spin on your heel, confusion setting in for just a moment before it’s replaced by another wave of relief and a little of something warmer. Taehyung, Hayun’s adopted brother, swamps you in a giant bear hug that quite literally sweeps you off of your feet.
“Wow, hey. This is a surprise. What are you doing here? Where’s Hayun?”
Taehyung scrunches up his face, letting out a small scoff. “It’s a good surprise, I hope. Something came up, and she had to meet with the wedding planner and caterer at the last minute. She called me and asked if I could pick you up.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah,” you confirm with a smile. “Good surprise.”
It’s no secret that you’ve always been fond of Taehyung. As a baby, you were toddling around with him long before his family adopted Hayun. She ended up being the sister you never knew you needed, even if you were a few years older.
When she moved to Seoul for work, Taehyung ended up being the physical representation that took her place. He flew out a week before you to help her with planning and will stay for a few weeks after you’ve already headed back home. They may have had their differences over the years, but their sibling bond is stronger than petty arguments and rivalries.
“Ready to get on the road? It’s a long drive.”
Hours later, with the rolling countryside and farms dotting the horizon, you discover the fiasco inside your backpack. The bottle of pheromone blockers you packed this morning somehow got shuffled to the bottom of your bag and popped open. The once-powder-filled capsules litter the bottom of your bag, broken open. Pale blue powder coats your things, the mild flower smell of the medicine lingering in the air.
“Fucking hell,” you groan. “Any chance there’s a clinic somewhere between here and where we’re going?”
“Unfortunately, no.” He frowns, drumming his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, making the triskelion signet ring on his index finger glitter in the mid-day sun. “We’d probably have to turn around and head nearly three hours back to get anywhere near a clinic with blockers. I'm told most people don’t use them anymore these days here. Maybe another one of the wedding party might have some you could borrow if you really need them. But, honestly, I don’t see anyone minding if you don’t use them.”
“Most people here don’t use them anymore?”
“Well, yeah, with the progression of equality and things like that. They’re so great here, way more progressive than back home. It’s very common for Omegas to go off of blockers or never even begin them. Laws have been implemented to punish Alphas who can’t control themselves. The responsibility of remaining safe shouldn’t be solely set on the shoulders of the Omega population.”
Talk like that has only recently become popular back home. You’ve heard the speeches and followed the media and the sources, but you suppose after nearly half of your life taking blockers, it just comes naturally to continue to do so.
“Hm, yeah, okay. I guess it’s no big deal, really. As long as you’re sure people won’t mind?”
Taehyung sniffs the air, his nose twitching. “I think you smell great, but just in case not everyone does, if someone says something, then I’ll personally drive all the way back to the city and pick you up some,” Taehyung promises, giving you one of his swoon-worthy smiles.
The crush you once upon a time had on Taehyung threatens to spark anew at the sight of his charming, boxy grin—a grin you would have once done anything to pull from him. But now, it just fills you with warmth and a homey comfort.
You give him a smile of your own. “Deal.”
“Hayun!”
Her squeal of delight when she turns around and catches sight of you echoes through the open space of the dimly lit bar of the bed and breakfast where the wedding is taking place.
It’s a cozy space with rich dark wood accents and royal blue velvet upholstery. Brass gas lamps and light fixtures give the entire lounge an upscale and chic atmosphere that you know is right up Hayun’s alley.
The few hours you had between checking in at the bed and breakfast and meeting Hayun for her very small—just you and one other person—bachelorette party were spent familiarizing yourself with the grounds.
The ceremony will take place in one of the lavish gardens, and the reception will follow in one of the grand dining halls. For a bed and breakfast, it’s far fancier than any you’ve ever been to. It definitely does not have the mom-and-pop feel that you typically associate with the term ‘B&B’.
“You’re here!” she shrills, throwing her arms around your neck.
Her petite form fits just like it always has against yours. Thick black hair, shorter than the last time you saw it, curls around the rounded lines of her cheeks, and her brown eyes are bright and glisten with happy tears. With her bubbly personality and small, wispy frame, she's always reminded you of a fairy.
You sigh, taking a deep breath and savoring your best friend's soft, floral scent. Thanks to the bracelet tinkling around her wrist, it holds the smallest undercurrent of your sweet citrus. Clearly, she’s not taking blockers; the scents are heavy and delightful. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Hayun sucks in a deep breath that mirrors yours. “Wow, babe, you smell good! Finally gone off the blockers, huh?”
“Uh, kind of,” you chuckle, untangling yourself from her arms. “I brought some, but they broke open in my bag at some point.” You shrug. “Tae said it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”
“Oh, it’s not. Absolutely not,” Hayun agrees, grinning broadly. “I’ve been off them for years and haven’t had a single issue. Come on, let’s have a drink and catch up!”
You settle in at a table, and it’s not long before Eunseo, Hayun’s other guest, joins you. You’ve heard a lot about Eunseo. Much the same way Taehyung took the place of Hayun for you, Eunseo took your place for Hayun. You half expect to feel some sort of friendship jealousy upon meeting Eunseo for the first time, but it doesn’t come. If anything, you’re immediately fond of the young woman.
The evening carries on, Hayun and Eunseo regaling you with tales from working together and their various adventures around Seoul. Eunseo shows genuine interest in your life back home, seeming eager to hear stories of Hayun’s childhood. She shows a particular interest in Taehyung, asking you in no certain terms more than you think is appropriate to share.
“But you’ve seen it, right?” Eunseo asks. Her elbows rest on the table, and her chin is nestled on her clasped hands, her eyes wide and glassy from the countless glasses of wine she’s had. “I bet it’s huge. Am I right?”
“Ugh,” Hayun groans. “Can we not talk about my brother’s dick. Please.” She makes a gagging sound before slurping down the rest of her cocktail and flagging down a passing waiter for another.
You try to wave off the waiter, but he’s turned toward the bar before you can get his attention. If Hayun has much more to drink, you’re not sure she’ll be able to walk down the aisle tomorrow unassisted.
“I’m just curious. It’s a harmless question,” Eunseo pouts. “Ignore her. Tell me. I just have to know.”
You swirl the straw around in your glass of water before giving Eunseo what you hope is a conspiratorial look. “Well—”
“What?! Ew. Are you really about to answer her? Please, dear god, do not tell me you have seen my brother’s penis. If you’ve seen it—fuck, I might actually puke.”
As much as you probably shouldn’t, you laugh, which earns further protests and obscene noises from Hayun.
“Before you interrupted me, I was going to say that maybe Eunseo should ask him herself.”
Hayun howls a protest, sloshing her new cocktail onto the table as she gesticulates a crude hand gesture in your direction. “Do not. I repeat, do not do that, Eunseo!”
The conversation peters off, Hayun losing herself in another cocktail while Eunseo stares dreamily up at the ceiling.
“I think—hiccup—it's bedtime,” Eunseo slurs.
As if right on cue, a familiar face peeks through the entrance to the lounge. You wave Taehyung down, and he comes jogging across the space to your table. His shirt is rumpled with the top few buttons undone, but his eyes are clear, and you know he’ll be a perfect gentleman.
“Are you sure?” you ask him, pitching your voice low.
“I got this, don’t worry. We finished up a few hours ago anyway.”
Taehyung gives you a warm, private smile before turning to Eunseo. “Hey there, beautiful. Let’s get you on to bed, okay?”
“Where’s my savior?” Hayun asks, frowning after her brother escorting Eunseo from the lounge and back through the front lobby.
“Right here,” you tell her, sliding out of your chair and coming around to her side of the table. “Come on, let’s go.”
It takes you more than twice as long as it usually would to get to Hayun’s room. She leans against the wall in the hall as you dig through her pockets in search of her room key. Once you find it tucked between a few stray bills and her ID, you usher her into the room and deposit her onto the bed.
Her fiance has a room on the other side of the grounds, but after the ceremony, they will both be moving into one of the couple’s suites for the night before jet-setting off to Jeju Island for their week-long honeymoon.
“Am I doing the right thing?”
Hayun’s question catches you off guard. You throw a confused look at her over your shoulder as you rummage through her suitcase in search of something for her to sleep in.
“What?”
She sighs as she rolls over, letting her head hang off the edge of the bed so she can look at you upside down. “Marrying Jungkook. It’s a mistake…so why am I doing it?”
“Hayun…what are you talking about? Jungkook is perfect for you. You guys have been dating for five years, and you told me you’ve never been happier. Where’s the mistake in that?”
The sound Hayun makes is akin to something a wounded animal might make. She flops, flailing her arms and legs like a child throwing a fit.
“That’s the thing, though! I’m happy, but I don’t love him. Oh god,” she cries. “I don’t love him.”
“Hey, hey now.” You abandon the search for sleeping clothes and crawl across the floor until you’re kneeling beside the bed. Smoothing your hand across her forehead, you ask, “Where is all this coming from?”
“He thinks I’m his true mate,” she whispers. The tears leaking from her eyes slide up her face, wetting the edges of her eyebrows before sliding over her forehead and disappearing into her hair. “But I know he’s not mine.”
“Wh—wait, what?” You push up from the floor and move onto the bed, gathering your best friend’s head into your lap so she’s no longer hanging upside down off the side of the bed.
She hiccups a sob, lips trembling as she explains, “He says I’m his true mate, that he knows because of my scent. But he doesn’t smell special to me…how is that possible?”
“Hayun, I don’t—”
“I cheated on him,” she whimpers in confession, cutting off what were going to be your soothing words of affirmation. They sour on your tongue, refusing to be released now.
Your stomach churns at her admittance. “You what?”
“You have every right to judge me. I’m a terrible person. But, when he told me I was his true mate…I panicked. I had to be sure I wasn’t broken, that me not finding his scent special wasn’t just something wrong with me.” Hayun blinks rapidly, trying to clear the tears as they begin to come in earnest. She clutches at the front of her shirt, hand fisting over her heart. “So, I slept with two Alphas that I work with to see if it was any different. I had to be sure. I had to know.”
“Hayun, I-I-I don’t…I’m not—”
“I’m such a fucking mess,” she sobs, curling in on you and pressing her face against your stomach. “I don’t deserve him. I only said yes to marrying him because I don’t want to be alone forever. I can’t be like you. I need someone.”
Her words sting, causing you to flinch involuntarily. You watch as she falls apart in your lap, ultimately giving in to her grief. It’s on the tip of your tongue to call her out on her childish behavior, to set the record straight about your own love life, and to leave her to her wallowing. But…the shaking of her shoulders and soft whines from her remind you so much of a younger and more fragile Hayun—the Hayun of your shared childhoods.
“Shh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” No matter how you might feel about her actions and the hurtful words she’s spilled, you hate to see your best friend so distraught and broken. “Hey, look at me.”
You wait until her watery eyes peel away from your shirt and meet yours. “Tell me you hate me; it’s okay.”
“Hayun, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You made…a mistake, that’s all. You were trying to figure things out. But…Hayun, you…you have to tell him.”
She frowns up at you, her expression sobering. “Tell him?”
“He’s about to marry you, Hayun. That’s a big freaking deal…you have to tell him tomorrow morning before anything else happens.”
The laugh that bubbles from her lips is anything but humorous. “I-I can’t do that! He’ll hate me. He’ll call the wedding off!” She shoves out of your lap and stares at you like you’ve lost your mind.
“If Jungkook truly loves you and says you’re his true mate, I don’t see that happening. But, he deserves to know. You have to know that. Either you tell him now, or he finds out years from now, and then it’ll be so much worse,” you try to reason with her.
“He doesn’t have to know!” she whisper-yells, her tears turning from sad to angry in an instant.
You shake your head, unable to believe what you’re hearing from her. “This isn’t right, Hayun. You can’t go into a marriage with someone with secrets like that!”
“It’s not like it’ll happen again. I’m not going to cheat on him while we’re married. Please,” she begs, her face once more softening into saddened anguish. “I don’t want to lose him.”
“He deserves to know, Hayun,” you whisper, remembering your own keen sting of betrayal from many years ago. There is a reason you don’t date much. “You say it won’t happen again?” you ask, trying to buy yourself some time to process everything Hayun just told you.
Her silence is deafening, and you think she’s about to not answer you the way you hope, but, finally, she murmurs, “No. Never. I swear it.”
“Okay. Okay, good. But, he still needs to know.”
Just because you’ve never actually met Jungkook, it doesn’t mean you don’t care for him. He’s the one who puts a smile on Hayun’s face when you can’t. He’s the reason she’s as happy as she is…or has been? Now, you’re not so sure. But, what you are certain about is that Hayun is far too drunk right now to know up from down and is just having a moment of raw vulnerability.
“Are you going to tell him?” she asks, voice a hoarse whisper.
You chew your bottom lip for a moment before slowly shaking your head. Thinking about it, even if you didn’t care for Jungkook, he still deserves to know on pure principle. “No. I won’t tell him.” She lets out a soft sigh of relief, which has you tacking on, “Because it’s not my place to tell him, it’s yours.”
“Yeah,” she mumbles. “Okay.” She doesn’t say anything more beyond that, falling into a listless stupor, all of her energy sapped from the quick argument and endless cocktails from the bar.
After you wrestle her out of her clothes and put on a long nightgown, she tucks easily into bed. You leave a glass of water on the bedside table for her, then exit the room and head to your own.
A pang of uncertainty refuses to quell in the pit of your stomach. You toss and turn most of the night, falling into a fitful sleep just before the sun begins to kiss the horizon. It’s going to be a long day…a battle of wills you never saw coming.
🥀🥀🥀
Jungkook
Today is the big day, and Jungkook couldn’t be happier. Nothing could possibly bring him down from the high he’s feeling. Not even the fact that he is unable to find the cufflinks that were passed down to him by his father.
“Did you check the pockets of all your pants?” Jimin, Jungkook’s best friend, asks from where he’s lounging in one of the chairs on the other side of Jungkook’s hotel room.
“Yes,” he mutters, dumping his entire suitcase onto the bed to rifle through it once again. “I remember putting them with the pile of Hayun’s—oh fuck.”
“That’s great,” Taehyung sighs. “So my sister probably has them.” He checks his watch. “We don’t really have time to go on a scavenger hunt through her room. Jimin and I are supposed to meet the photographer to get started on some of the bride and groomsmen shots.”
Jungkook purses his lips and rakes his hands through his hair as he thinks of a solution. “I’d go look myself, but what if I run into Hayun between here and there? She specifically requested that we not see each other until the ceremony.”
Taehyung hums lightly. “I think I have an idea. The other girls don’t meet for pictures until after we’re done. So…yeah…okay…done,” he murmurs, tapping away at his phone screen. “If they’re in Hayun’s things, they’ll be delivered to you soon.”
“Thanks, Taehyung, you’re a lifesaver.”
Minutes later, Jungkook finds himself alone, Taehyung and Jimin having gone to meet with the photographer. Somewhere out there, beyond the confines of his room, his fiancee is probably smiling and laughing as she poses in front of the camera. If only Jungkook could see through walls. He’d give anything for even just a little glimpse of his bride-to-be.
When Jungkook first met Hayun almost six years ago, he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to track her scent. The meeting he was heading for was instantly forgotten, replaced by a visceral need to discover the source of that titillating aroma that had his hindbrain firing on all cylinders.
Never before had Jungkook experienced something so…primal. It was both alarming and utterly fascinating. Amongst the harsh scents of car exhaust and the warm notes of roasted coffee, Jungkook wove his way through the crowd on the sidewalk to the doors of a little cafe; Hayun was inside, ordering a matcha tea to-go, and the rest was history.
Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to stop daydreaming and fiddling with his shirt's empty cuffs and focus on putting together the rest of his suit.
The scent hits Jungkook a moment before the sound of a soft knock reaches his ears. He’s standing in the ensuite bathroom, mid-skin care routine. Wiping his wet fingers off onto a towel, he draws in a deep breath to confirm the aroma wafting to him from beyond the door of his room.
A roguish smirk quirks up one side of his mouth as he exits the bathroom and moves across the room. Unable to help himself, he opens the door. “Hayun,” he chuckles, fingers wrapping around the doorknob, “I thought we agreed that you…you are not Hayun.” The words tumble from his suddenly numb lips, rasping past his too-dry tongue.
“Umm, no. Not Hayun, sorry. You’re Jungkook?”
The woman standing before him is clearly not his fiancee. The woman’s purple gown is familiar, Jungkook knowing it’s what Hayun chose for her attending party. You’re a friend of Hayun, clearly, yet you smell exactly like Hayun…if Hayun smelled like Hayun times a thousand. The fragrance slams into his olfactory system, and the edges of his vision grow blurry a moment before he shakes his head and steadies himself with a hand on the doorjamb.
“Yeah,” he whispers, voice raspy with his suddenly dry throat. Revelations pounding him right between the eyes, washing through his body and keying right into his most basic of instincts.
Jungkook watches as your nostrils flare, and he knows it’s in that moment that you register his cedar and lavadin scent; the scent that marks him for what—who—he is.
“Jungkook,” you repeat his name, and he wants to howl with delight at how it sounds coming from your lips. “No. You can’t…it’s not—” your voice cuts off a second before you drop the small, black leather box you were holding and turn, disappearing in a flash of violet tulle and silk.
🥀🥀🥀
“Stop! Wait, please!” The shout of your name follows you down the hall, but you’re too focused on getting as far away from him and the feelings threatening to overwhelm you as you can.
“No, no, no,” you chant under your breath as you move as swiftly as the slippered feet will allow you to go without tripping yourself up.
It’s clearly not fast enough. It only takes a few frantic beats of your heart before a firm grip on your elbow draws you to a stumbling halt. The touch is electric, and your skin flushes with goosebumps at the heated contact.
“Don’t run,” Jungkook pants. “Please.”
You wretch your arm from his grip and whirl on him, a sharp remark ready on the tip of your tongue. Only, it dies there, never to be uttered, as your heart thumps violently in response to the look on his face—pure anguish.
Your voice is thread-thin as you finally manage to get words out, “This can’t be happening.”
Jungkook’s brow twitches, his lips tucked between his teeth. His emotions are stark on his face, and the conflict is raw and bare to you. Clearly, he’s warring the same as you, maybe even more so.
“Why do you smell like Hayun?” he asks, his voice soft in contrast to the raging storm you see in his eyes. “Why do you smell more like my true mate than she even does? Is this some wicked, cruel prank?”
You shake your head, intentionally drawing a breath through your mouth in hopes of saving your nose from another assault of his perfect scent. But, instead, his flavor laces over your tongue and slides down your throat to sit like a knot in your belly. You might as well have licked a stripe up his neck for all the good that did.
“I-I don’t know,” you choke out, trying to keep the pool of saliva under your tongue from dripping down your chin.
Jungkook steps closer to you, leading with his nose. He sniffs the air around you and something must not sit well with what he discovers because he rears back and bares his teeth. “Of course,” he mutters as his eyes drop to your left wrist.
Your eyes track his movement as he scoops up your wrist in a loose grip, and you realize it’s the bracelet there that has his attention. Everything clicks into place, and you feel like the faintest breeze could sweep you away with how lightheaded you’re feeling at this moment.
“We traded,” you whisper as if speaking low enough means the admission won’t utterly destroy the world as you know it.
“She’s not my true mate,” he states, voice as low as yours, fevered and quiet. “You are.”
Those words punch you in the chest, nearly taking you to your knees. If it weren’t for the hold Jungkook has on your wrist, you’re sure you’d be in a heap on the floor. As it is, he catches his other arm around your waist as you sway on the spot.
“Y-you shouldn’t.” Your protest is stilted, the words feeling robotic and unnatural as you gingerly press a hand against the arm that’s angled around your ribs. It was your intention to push his touch away, but the most you accomplish is flexing your fingers against the smooth cotton covering his thick bicep.
Somehow, you find yourself back in the room you had fled from just a few minutes ago. Jungkook settled you on the bed and is now pressing a chilled water bottle into your hands.
He kneels before you, headless of putting wrinkles in his black dress slacks. He’s wearing a thin white undershirt, his starched white button-up undone over it. The cuffs of the sleeves flop as he brings his hands into his lap and picks at the edges of his thumbnails.
Your eyes rove the room, catching on the black leather box still sitting on the floor by the door where you dropped it. Inside the box is nestled a pair of golden cufflinks—a pair you now understand have been passed down through the generations of Jeon men.
Absently, you press your thumb to your phone, unlocking it to reveal the text message that has irrevocably changed your life forever.
If you had known Taehyung’s text message requesting help would have led you to where you are right now, you’d probably have ignored it.
Yet, at the same time, if you had, you’d probably have had this revelation with Jungkook in the middle of the ceremony, and it would have caused all sorts of untoward chaos. No, it’s far better that it’s happening now instead of later. Maybe you can get ahead of this and fix it somehow. Though…
“Hey? You okay?” Jungkook interrupts your thoughts. “Fuck, that’s a stupid question. Sorry.”
“Huh? Oh. Umm…yeah. I don’t—what do we do now?” You turn your phone over, finger ghosting over the power button to lock the screen once more.
Jungkook sighs, and you can’t help watching the rise and fall of his shoulders, framing the swell of his defined chest with the action. He’s an exquisite specimen of masculinity, and even if it weren’t for the musky notes of his scent that mark him as your true mate, you’d find him devastatingly attractive.
“We need to tell Hayun. I c-can’t…I can’t marry her. Not when I’ve found—” he cuts off, wincing as his voice breaks. “I should go and find her. Now, before this can go any further. I’m sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll find you later, okay?”
“Wait,” you call after him. He stops halfway to the door and glances back at you over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t we tell her together?”
Jungkook chews the inside of his cheek a moment, his eyes flicking over your face as he thinks through your suggestion. Slowly, he nods. “Yeah, maybe that’s for the best.”
There is palpable tension between you and Jungkook as you follow behind him out of the main building. He texted Jimin, knowing he’d be the most reliable with his phone on him, asking where the photos were currently taking place.
It only took a few minutes for Jimin to respond that they were almost finished but were currently capturing some group shots on the walking path by the lake on the backside of the property.
You’re vaguely aware of where the lake is located, having given the map of the grounds that was posted on the backside of your room’s door a cursory look the day you arrived. It’s a relatively short distance, yet it feels like miles with the weight of pure dread sitting firmly on your shoulders.
At least it’s not a feeling you’re experiencing alone. Jungkook is right there with you, and you can clearly see the unease in the stiff way his body moves. The tips of his fingers twitch back in your direction every few steps like he’s fighting off the urge to slip them between your own.
The first person you catch sight of is Yoona, the photographer. She’s squatting in the grass, her large DSLR camera held up to her face, as she captures candid moments of Hayun, Taehyung, and Jimin repositioning themselves along the lake's edge.
Your heart squeezes hard at how beautiful Hayun is in her form-fitting silk ivory, off-the-shoulder wedding gown, the lacy bell sleeves fluttering around her hands. Her head is thrown back, the peel of her carefree laughter carrying to you and further crumbling your soul into a million pieces. You ache, not just for the desire to draw closer to your true mate, but for the inevitable aftermath of what is about to happen.
Taehyung is the first to notice you and Jungkook. The smile on his face slowly disappears, replaced by a concerned frown. Hayun catches his expression and follows his line of sight. Her gaze sears into you, and you feel like you might combust into a cloud of ash at any second with the irritation contained in her pretty brown eyes.
“What’s going on?” Hayun exclaims, throwing her hands up in a frustrated manner as she stalks towards you and Jungkook. “It’s not time for your photos yet,” she tells you before her eyes swing to Jungkook. “What happened to not seeing me before the wedding? That was your rule!”
“Hayun, we need to talk.”
“Talk about wh—” she cuts off, her question turning into a gasp. Your wide eyes flick to you. “You told him?”
“What? No!”
Your protest rings out at the same time that Jungkook says, “She’s my true mate.”
A breeze kicks up, sweeping from behind you and tossing errant strands of hair across Hayun’s forehead. You’d give anything for the power to pluck the wind from the air, shove it back…keep it from showering her with yours and Jungkook’s combined scents—a blatant confirmation echoing the words Jungkook just let loose.
Hayun stiffens. Her jaw goes rigid, and her face pales as her nostrils flare. It’s a moment that will be forever written across the band of your friendship. Betrayal flashes through her eyes before morphing into something akin to somber resignation.
“Hayun,” Jungkook begins. “I don’t—we didn’t…I’m sorry. What do we do?” He spreads his hands out in front of himself in a helpless manner.
By this time, Jimin and Taehyung have come up from behind Hayun, faces wary as they take in the scene with growing clarity. You look to Taehyung, hoping he can see the silent plea in your eyes.
“Explain,” Hayun says simply. Despite how collected she seems, you can see the subtle tremble in her hands and the way the muscles in her neck continue to flex and strain as she clenches and grinds her teeth.
Jungkook launches into recounting the events that brought you to his room and broke the proverbial dam. “We—we had no idea. I swear this is the first time we’ve ever met, and gods, the bracelets…” Jungkook trails off, a pained sound rumbling from his chest.
“Is this a joke?” Taehyung asks accusingly, and it’s like a barb to your heart.
“We wouldn’t do that.” Your croaked statement draws Hayun’s attention.
Hayun sniffles, her chin jerking a little higher into the air. “My nose tells me one thing, but my heart tells me another. Did you know about this last night? Is that why you pushed so hard for me to tell him?” The last part is whispered, meant only for you, which hurts even more.
“Hayun, no! You know that’s impossible. I couldn’t have known.”
“Tell me what?” Jungkook asks, having heard despite her whisper, his eyes swiveling between you and Hayun.
You shake your head at him, not wanting to throw further fuel on the fire. “Hayun, please, believe me.”
A pregnant moment full of thick tension passes before it fizzles, and Hayun shakes her head, not in a dismissive fashion but in gentle acceptance. “I believe you,” she tells you. “I guess…I guess there won’t be a wedding in four hours unless you two want…” She trails off, a bittersweet smile tugging at her cherry red painted lips.
Jungkook blanches, wide eyes landing on you. “What? Us? No. I mean, sorry…but—”
Hayun holds up her hand, quelling Jungkook’s flustered response. “I was teasing, Koo, trying to lighten the mood. Um,” she pauses, absently twisting the diamond engagement ring around her finger before slowly slipping it off and closing a fist around it. “Can we talk, though? There’s something I needed to tell you today anyway.”
“Okay,” Jungkook says wearily.
“Tae, do you mind…?” Hayun asks, not even having to fill in the blanks. Her brother instantly steps into his role as protector and savior.
“Don’t worry about anything. I’ll make some phone calls,” Taehyung assures her before grabbing Jimin’s arm and starting back down the walking path.
“I’ll just—” you thumb over your shoulder in the direction Tae and Jimin just disappeared in “—be in my room.”
“Wait,” Hayun calls, pulling your retreat up short. “Come here.” She opens her arms, her hands opening and closing in grabby motions. “Please.”
A sob cracks from your throat as you throw yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her neck. “I’m so sorry, Hayun. I’m so sorry.”
“Hush. None of that. This isn’t anything we could have predicted or stopped from happening. If anything, maybe this is life’s way of getting back at me for what I did to him,” she whispers in your ear. “This is how it’s meant to be.”
Hayun smoothes a hand over your back and releases you. She steps back, using the back of a finger to lift the tears from your cheeks, and gives you a watery smile.
You’re not sure you can speak without completely losing yourself, so you just give her a tight nod and continue back on your way down the path. A part of you wants to hear what she has to say to Jungkook, to be there to soothe any hurts or aches…which is a startling realization that you’d not just tend to Hayun but to Jungkook, too. That internal, visceral part of you yearns to turn on your heel and…protect what’s yours.
It’s an odd revelation to think of Jungkook as yours. Well, yours unless either of you reject the bond. Though, that thought makes your stomach pitch and roil. You have to trail a hand along the wall in the hall leading to your room to keep yourself from curling over your abdomen at just the idea.
Once back in your room, you’re unsure what to do with yourself, so you absently start to gather your belongings and pack them up. Every few minutes, you find yourself pausing to stare at the door, ears pricking at the slightest sound from beyond it.
You’re not sure what you’re expecting. Whether it’s Hayun coming to your room so the two of you can cry together or Jungkook coming to claim y—uh, you shove that thought aside quickly because now is not the time. At. All.
The time for the wedding comes and passes without a single knock on your door nor a text or call on your phone. You’re tempted to go looking. For what, you’re not entirely sure—an answer, maybe, some sort of direction on what you should do now.
Finally, after hours of sitting in silence with just your thoughts for company, a soft knock sounds at your door. The long hem of your dress nearly trips you up in your haste to make it to the door. It swings open, and for some reason, your stomach drops, the flutter of disappointment heavy and unexpected.
“Hey, beautiful,” Taehyung says, his voice soft and full of emotion. “Mind if I come in?”
His necktie is loose, and the top button of his dress shirt is undone. There is a tension in his eyes that wasn’t there earlier. It makes your chest ache.
“Sure,” you say, stepping back and letting him into your room.
Taehyung sighs, perches on the end of your bed, and props his elbows on his knees. His chin rests on an upturned fist, his other hand dangling between his legs, clutching his phone.
He opens his mouth, a single word the only thing coming out, “So.”
“So,” you parrot.
“Hayun wants me to take her home…alone. I’m not sure what all she and Jungkook talked about, but I think they’re at least amicable in agreeing that it would be best if he gave her a few days at home alone before they start the process of separating their lives.” You’re not sure if the bitter tinge in your chest is hurt because Hayun isn’t the one telling you this or because now you have to find your own way to the airport. As if reading your thoughts, Taehyung continues, “I can be back in two days, maybe sooner, depending on traffic. Perhaps they’ll let you extend your stay. If not, I can talk to Jimin—”
“No, Tae, it’s okay. I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about me. Just take care of Hayun, make sure she’s okay...as okay as she can be, at least. Fuck.” The last word comes out choked, and you gnash your teeth on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting the angry tears out. You have no right to be angry. Hell, you’re not even sure why you’re angry. It just seems like the easiest emotion to feel right now, the only one that doesn’t leave you feeling like your world is slowly imploding.
“Hey,” Taehyung says, bringing one of his big hands up to cup the side of your face. His thumb prods at the swell of your cheek, causing you to release the tension in your jaw. “Hayun isn’t the only one I’m worried about here.”
“I’m fine—I will be fine,” you amend. “I promise. I think I’m just feeling overwhelmed. I’m mad at myself for ruining Hayun’s big day. I can’t believe this is happening at all. This…this just doesn’t happen. This is the kind of shit you read about in books, it’s not supposed to be real life.”
And there it is, you surmise—the truth of the matter. None of what’s happened makes sense. It honestly belongs on the pages of a book or in a movie script, not in your real life. It still feels surreal. If it weren’t for the subtle, lingering ache you instinctively know is associated with finding your true mate but not allowing yourself to fully accept it, you’d think this was all some elaborate party trick or impractical joke.
Taehyung smiles at you, but the unease in his eyes can’t be masked that easily. “I’m not sure what to say or what to do. You’re right. This isn’t a situation I think anyone was prepared for or ever thought possible, actually. But, here we are…and we have to face it the best way we can.” He pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. “I'll tell you what: I’ll text Jimin—he’s a good guy, I think you’ll enjoy his company—and ask him to meet you in the lounge. Have a few drinks, wind down, and try to relax as best you can.”
“Sure,” you say lamely, trying to muster up at least a little bit of enthusiasm.
“That’s my girl.” Taehyung offers you another smile, this one not so tense. “Here, I have something for you.” He fishes into his pant pocket and produces a familiar thin silver chain, a tiny crescent moon dangling near one end.
The sight has your spine straightening. “Right, of course.” You quickly thumb open the clasp on the bracelet around your wrist, letting it fall from your skin for the first time since you put it on when Hayun gave it to you all those years ago. It never felt right to take it off…not until now.
Taehyung helps you swap the bracelet with the one in his hand. The metal feels cold against your skin and you immediately miss the subtle fragrance of Hayun’s scent clinging to your wrist. Though, you suppose that’s what has gotten you both into this mess to begin with. Taehyung explains in soft words how Jungkook explained to Hayun about the scent mix-up with the bracelets—such a silly, seemingly insignificant thing…the catalyst to spark such a colossal moment.
“I’m going to get on the road with Hayun, but I’ll call you as soon as we get to her place and check in on you, okay?”
Sitting at the bar with Jungkook’s best friend seemed like a good idea when Taehyung first presented it to you. But, at the time, you weren’t connecting the dots that Jimin was Jungkook’s best friend. He was just Jimin, the guy that just so happened also to be part of the wedding party that you had met in passing briefly, but he seemed like a good enough person. Now, however, you feel all the awkward tension radiating right between your shoulder blades, emphasized by the silence lingering between the two of you.
You traded in your lilac dress for jeans and a light silk blouse, canvas slip-ons in place of your slippers, yet no matter how comfortable you know your clothing is, you can’t shake the prickling discomfort eating away at the back of your neck.
“Want another?” Jimin asks, nodding to your mostly watered-down rum and coke. It’s barely late afternoon, and as much as Taehyung’s suggestion of a drink sounded like just what you needed, you’ve found yourself not in the mood to drink after all.
“Um, nah. I’m okay, thanks.”
“Cool. Okay. I’ll be right back.” Jimin drums his fingers on the tabletop and pops his lips before giving you a slight head nod and pushing up from his chair.
You watch as he saunters to the long bar, his crescent moon tattoo on the nape of his neck peeking out from the top of his collar, and props his elbows onto the shiny top. His smile is flirty and casual as the bartender, a beautiful woman with long, inky tresses and fiery red lipstick, sidles up in front of him.
They’re too far away for you to hear their conversation, but her tinkling laughter carries across the space, and you know it might be a while before Jimin returns to your table.
Which you’re okay with. Considering you know you’re not exactly pleasant company right now, you don’t blame him one bit. You glance down at your phone, once again reading the last text message Hayun sent you not too long ago.
Eunseo stopped by the lounge around the same time Jimin showed up. If her smile and lingering hug were any indicator, she clearly had a thing for him. She gave you a small wave goodbye before giving Jimin another hug and heading out. Apparently, she was going to follow Taehyung and Hayun back to Hayun and Jungkook’s place to help Hayun with whatever she needed over the next few days.
Does it hurt that your best friend is relying on someone else, her new best friend? Yes. Do you also understand why? Also, yes, but that doesn’t make the sting hurt any less.
You’re just about to give up and retreat back to your room, which the front desk still hasn’t given you a definitive answer about whether or not your stay can be extended while you wait for Tae, when a shadow falls across your table a second before.
“Do you mind if I sit?” Jungkook asks in a low voice.
He fidgets, threading and unthreading his fingers together while he waits for your answer. The suit he had half on earlier is gone, and in its place is a dark pair of jeans, the knees worn fashionably, and an oversized white graphic t-shirt. Black sneakers peek out from the rounded bottoms of his pant legs.
You clear your throat, forcing your eyes away from his and instead on the glass sitting in a puddle of condensation on the table before you. “Oh, I—uh, I was actually about to go. You’re welcome to the table, though. Jimin was—” You cut off, realizing Jimin is no longer in the lounge at all. “Well, he was here,” you add with a frown.
Jungkook scratches a hand across the back of his neck and gives you a hesitant smile. “Yeah, he texted me. He went…well, that doesn’t matter. Could we, um…can we talk?”
“Yes.” The response is out of your mouth before he even finishes asking. “Please, I think I’d like that,” you say, nodding toward the open seat across from you.
A shaky breath rattles from Jungkook as he eases into the empty seat. “Have you talked to Hayun at all?” he asks after a moment’s hesitation.
“A text message, but that’s all. I’m not sure she wants to talk to me right now.” Needing something to do with your hands, you trace a finger along the edge of the water pooled around the bottom of your glass and use your other to poke more drops on the side of your cup, making them race down to join the growing puddle.
Jungkook nods, his lips pursing thoughtfully. “She told me what happened last night. Her confession.” That draws your attention back to him, and you wait, fingers still on the glass, intent on hearing what he says next. “I thought I’d be angrier finding out the woman I’ve been with for years—the woman I was hours away from marrying—had cheated on me…but I’m not. For the life of me, I’m not mad at her…even though I know I should be.”
“How do you feel?”
Maybe it’s none of your business, but you have to ask.
Blowing out a breath, Jungkook slides one of his hands across the table and, giving you plenty of time to protest or pull away, slowly slides his fingers between yours, effectively joining his hand with yours. It’s the first time hand-holding has felt so intimate yet wholly innocent.
“Relieved, I think,” he finally says. “Grateful, maybe? Hayun was hurt. As she has every right to be, but she said she also felt relief, too. I think, as much as she said she loved me, she was still holding back even in the end.” With a rueful shake of his head, he tacks on, “We were just a disaster waiting to happen, held together only by the thin chain of a bracelet. We would have shattered eventually.”
Jungkook’s eyes drop to where your fingers are entwined with his, trailing up to your wrist to land on the object he just spoke of.
“I’m relieved, too,” you whisper. Your eyes meet his as he glances up, and you’re instantly captivated.
This is the first time you’ve allowed yourself to really study Jungkook. His hair is tousled like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. You suppose he probably had been and wonder if that’s one of his nervous ticks.
The bow of his lips is prominent and draws your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his lips, making small mental notes at everything you see, like the tiny beauty mark under his bottom lip. His straight nose leads you to his expressive eyes, so dark and full of secrets you want to be privy to.
To say Jungkook is handsome would be a gross understatement. You’re not sure if it’s the fact he’s your true mate or just simply a gorgeous being, but he is pleasing to the eyes, that’s for sure.
You mentally kick yourself for thinking such thoughts about your best friend’s almost-husband after everything that has just happened. It’s not in good taste to entertain these thoughts so soon, right? True mate or not.
Yet, you can’t shove those thoughts away completely.
“Where did you go just now?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head and studying you intently.
Not wanting to explain yourself and the thoughts you were just having, you choose to ask him a question instead. “So, what now?”
You’re thankful Jungkook doesn’t push you to answer. He shifts in his seat and withdraws his fingers from between yours.
“I think we start with…” he trails off, a playful smile tugging up the side of his mouth as he holds the hand he pulled back in the air in front of you in offering. “Hi, I’m Jungkook.”
For the first time in what feels like forever, you smile. A laugh escapes you, and you instantly feel a thousand times lighter with that simple action.
As you take his hand back into yours, allowing yourself to truly savor the feel of his skin against yours, you realize that no matter what happens with Hayun or the fact that you live thousands of miles apart from Jungkook…everything is going to be okay and maybe you wouldn’t have ignored Taehyung’s text after all.
🥀🥀🥀
Jungkook, 3 months later
The flight was long but worth it. Jungkook stretches as he climbs out of the Uber he took from the airport. You would have picked him up. In fact, you are supposed to pick him up…just, not until next week. He decided to surprise you by coming early. He hopes you don’t mind.
Time seemed to drag to a near stand-still following that fateful day at the bed and breakfast where he was so sure he’d be joining his life with Hayun’s officially. No one could have anticipated what actually went down that day. But, in the end, he and Hayun parted ways on pleasant terms, and it’s actually thanks to her that he’s here right now, a week early.
Jungkook was worried that with everything that happened, yours and Hayun’s friendship might suffer. But, surprisingly—and thankfully—you guys have been getting on great. Hayun has been looking at work prospects in Thailand but, from what you’ve told Jungkook, is planning to visit you and Taehyung for Christmas.
It’s been three months, and not a day has gone by that Jungkook hasn’t talked to you in some capacity. From the moment he offered to be your ride to the airport, and you agreed, he’s thought about nothing other than getting on a plane and following you. The draw to you is just that strong.
You’ve expressed similar feelings, already having planned a return trip to Seoul next month. Neither Jungkook nor you have really talked about what the future holds or how to even begin to navigate it. But Jungkook hopes that during the week he is here, you can both begin to figure that out.
Giddiness makes his tattooed fingers shake as he reaches out and grasps the brass knocker on your door. He gives it a rap against the thick wood and waits. Jungkook counts the breaths as his anticipation rises. It’s only three and a half exhales before he hears the soft pad of your feet on the other side of the door.
Jungkook can imagine you pressing up onto your tip toes in order to peer through the peephole. He’d pay money to be able to see the look on your face when you see it’s him. Not being able to see your face doesn’t take away from the dopamine rush he gets when the sound of your surprised squeal sounds through the door.
“Jungkook!” Your shout is followed by the frantic sound of you disengaging the locks on your door before you swing it open and launch yourself at him. “What the fuck are you doing here? Oh, my gods! Why didn’t you tell me? You’re here!”
It feels good to laugh, but it feels even better to have you in his arms finally. The brief embrace he shared with you at the airport when he dropped you off was not enough and is what drove him to try and come sooner than planned.
Jungkook savors the warmth of your soft body pressed against his, your arms tight around his neck. Running one of his hands up your spine, he clasps the back of your neck and uses his hold there to angle your head away from his neck so he can look you in the face.
“Surprise,” he whispers. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”
You sigh dreamily, your eyes fluttering closed for a second like you’re savoring the feeling of being in his arms. “Pleasant surprise,” you murmur with a smile on your face.
Jungkook can’t help himself. He wants so badly to know if your smile tastes as good as he thinks it will. The press of his lips against yours causes you to melt against him, a throaty sound escaping around the intrusion of his tongue as he works it between your lips.
“Your taste,” he groans, forcing his mouth away from yours before the allure of you can drive him completely mad. Who is he kidding? He’s already there. “I need more.”
🥀🥀🥀
Those words do something to you.
I need more.
They echo the thoughts you’ve been harboring for the last three months. You’ve ached with those words, desperately willing yourself to be patient and let it happen when it’s meant to happen.
But, fuck, it feels so good to have him in your arms, to have his mouth brushing against yours. He tastes divine, a warm sweetness that compliments the musk of his scent that is slowly wrapping itself around you.
“Take me. Take it all,” you urge, completely baring yourself to him, body, mind, and soul. “I’m yours.”
It’s a frenzy, the frantic discarding of clothing. Your fingers work to free him of his jeans while also helping him with the criss-cross straps of your lounging romper. You don’t care that you’re still standing by your front door, bared down to your underwear. The only thing you’re focusing on now is how Jungkook holds you at arm's length and drinks you in from head to toe.
“You…are…everything.” The way he whispers those words crawls under your skin, rooting itself deep in your being. You feel sexy…desired, and unbelievably empty—your body clenches, the ache deep between your thighs. You’ve never been so turned on from just taking your clothes off before, from whispered words and a heated look.
Jungkook allows you to undress him as slow or as fast as you want. You try to take your time and savor every inch of skin you expose. But, you can barely contain yourself when you get to his jeans, shoving them unceremoniously down his thighs with your eyes locked on the many planes and angles of his toned chest and stomach.
Your fingers ghost over his skin, eliciting goosebumps in their wake as you explore the smooth and lush expanse of his shoulders and down his arms. Without needing to say anything more, he gathers you into his arms and covers your mouth with his once more.
It’s a miracle you make it to your bedroom. But, seeing Jungkook sprawled out on your bed is a sight you’ll never forget, with his lowered lids and bottom lip caught between his teeth. You want to taste every inch of him, from the tips of his ears down to the defined muscles of his calves.
Now, though, your gaze focuses on the front of his tented boxer briefs. The dark grey material has darkened even further, where you can see the distinct outline of the head of his cock. Saliva pools in your mouth.
You crawl on the bed, knees slotting between his, your hands on either side of his hips. With your eyes locked on his, you lean down and mouth gently at the wetness. You moan at the flavor of him, your tongue peeking out to seek more.
“Fuck,” you curse. “You taste so good.”
Jungkook lets out a quick breath. “You can’t say shit like that, baby girl. You’re going to make me lose it.” He flicks his eyes up to the ceiling, his lips moving like he’s sending up a silent prayer, before looking back down at you. “You have maybe three seconds before I can’t hold back any longer and tear that ass up.”
You chuckle softly, pouting out your lips in a faux sullen manner. “Yes, sir.”
That earns a growl from Jungkook that has heat racing down your spine as you hook your fingers into the band of his Calvin Klein’s and pull them down. He lifts his hips, helping you free him from their confines.
His cock stands so pretty before you, the full heft bobbing against his belly, smearing a pearl of precum against his golden skin. You dive in, licking at the sticky mess before taking the tip between your lips and lavishing your tongue over his slit.
Jungkook fists the sheets, a litany of curses falling from his lips. “Please,” he chokes.
You keep your eyes locked on his as you inch your way down his length, your jaw forcing itself wider to accommodate as much of him as you can. The blunt head of his cock presses against the back of your throat. You take a steadying breath in through your nose before forcing yourself a little further until your throat constricts around him and you have to pull back.
The second your mouth leaves his cock, saliva stringing from your lips to his tip, Jungkook grabs you and hauls you up over him. You laugh, loving the heat emanating from his body as yours covers his.
“What are you doing?” you gasp.
His strong hands land on your hips and tangle in the band of your panties. “I need these off. Please. I need you. I want to feel you…be inside you.”
You want that, too, you realize, your body already primed and begging for it. The sweet, fragrant notes of your arousal saturate the air, mixing with Jungkook’s to paint a picture of hedonism and wanton desires.
The rest of your clothes come off, your bra and panties are tossed to the side, leaving you utterly bare to him. Your inner thighs slide like velvet over his hips as you move your body against his until you can feel the press of the head of his cock against your entrance.
You wrap a hand around his base, angling him perfectly. It’s a slow descent into madness, the lowering of your body onto his. His eyes bore into yours, pouring out everything that has been building to this moment, this pinnacle that will forever throttle you onto a different path for your future—with him. You can feel every perfect inch slide along your walls as they adjust and welcome him. It’s like sliding home; he is the perfect fit for your body, filling you completely.
The pace you set, at first, is languid. An easy rise and fall of your hips as you both learn the body of the other. Jungkook’s hands mold around your breasts, his thumbs caressing over the pert points of your nipples.
“You feel so good,” you tell him, emphasizing your words with a generous roll of your hips. “So much better than I imagined.”
“You imagined it often?” he asks, a teasing tone to his words.
With the amount of teasing photos and videos you’ve shared with each other over the last few weeks, he knows you have. You can tell he’s just giving you a hard time. That’s fine, because you can…
Jungkook throws his head back as you arch yours, letting his cock hit that special place inside that has you both seeing stars. “Fuck!” His hands drop to your hips, landing with a satisfying smack. His grip tightens, dimpling the supple flesh around his fingers. “Can I knot you?” he asks with a breathless moan. You’ve never taken an alpha’s knot. The idea has your body pulsing around his, flooding slick onto his pelvis as you continue to roll your hips. “Fuck, baby girl, do you like that idea? You want to take my knot like a good girl?”
You can’t even form a coherent thought, much less answer him. The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a panting keen, your chin jerking up and down as you frantically nod your want.
Jungkook braces his feet against the mattress and uses his grip on your hips as leverage to thrust upward, sending you forward onto your hands. He’s relentless, pounding into you from below to the point your eyes roll back, and you have to squeeze them shut. Tiny pinpricks of light burst behind your lids as your body coils tighter than ever before.
You cry out as he sends you over the edge, your body careening into an unfathomable abyss of pleasure. The sounds coming from around his cock as it pounds into you are slick and obscene, debauched yet wholly satisfying.
“Alpha, need your knot,” you mewl, your lips finding the triskelion tattoo over Jungkook’s left pec muscle. You nibble at it, your teeth sinking softly into the skin.
“Oh, baby, fuck…fuck…Fuuuckkk!” Jungkook shouts, the sound turning into a guttural snarl as his body goes primal.
He seats himself completely inside of you with one final, deliberate thrust, and then you can feel the swell of his knot capture within you. It hurts, your pleasure turning into a moment of pain and panic. You squirm, trying to lift your hips from his, but the clasp of his hands on your body won’t let you go far. You whine, “J-Jungkook.”
“I know, baby girl, I know. Relax. Let your body do what it needs to do.”
It’s like those words unlock some inner Omega part of your brain, and suddenly you feel your body rush with endorphins and dopamine as it accepts the thick jets of his cum now flooding in. Like administering a drug, it’s such a fast transition that you feel lightheaded and giddy, sheepish and almost silly over your moment of panic.
“Gods, that feels so…good.” You wiggle in his arms, gasping as his knot pulls tight. You want more, need more of that feeling…need more of his cum. “More, Alpha, please.”
Jungkook pants, a tired smile on his face. You can feel it when his cock pulses inside you, dribbling even more liquid heat into your body in answer to your plea. “That’s my pretty girl,” Jungkook coos, brushing a hand across your forehead. “You’re so beautiful taking my knot, full of my cum.” He curses softly, reverently, and another gush of heat fills your body. “I’m going to take such good care of you. I swear it.”
You fall into a half-sleep, content and sated as you are. There are no worries about the future, nor the past. You are happy…all thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks.
◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-11-05 ColorMePurplex2
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i want older dilfy art to call me kiddo while he fucks me... IM SORRY
-🐞
🙂↕️🙂↕️ you get it!!
TW: Dubcon due to no verbal consent given, but both parties are VERY enthusiastic
But yeah… being the cute little babysitter he and Tashi hire!! He calls you kiddo conversationally, just a way he tries to remind himself how young you are. He’s all hey, kiddo, and how’s college, kiddo? You really are so young— in college, can’t even drink legally yet. That doesn’t stop him from wanting you so bad. For waking up hard and drenched in sweat beside his wife after he’s dreamed about fucking your sweet pussy.
You’re a fan, you watch his matches. After you’d been working for them for a month, you shyly brought out a shirt for him to sign. He fantasized about you wearing it to bed with nothing beneath for fucking days after, jerked his cock raw imagining your body beneath the oversized fucking merch.
But he shouldn’t. You’re a kid. You’re too young. You're begging for it.
There you are— sitting on the sofa while you wait for Art to call his driver to take you home. He coddles you too much, wastes his own resources on you. His driver, his black card, anything you want. Your pretty legs are tucked under your body, beneath the hoodie of his you wear.
Sorry, Mr. Donaldson, I just got cold and you said to help myself to whatever I need.
It makes sense that you're freezing. You show up in tiny little athletic shorts and big tee shirts. Kind of like Tashi used to wear, back in college. He supposes some things don't change. It also makes sense because he keeps the house frigid so he can leer at the hard bud of your nipples poking through your shirts. Also like Tashi. Whatever, it's his house, he can do what he wants.
You look so tiny in his clothes, pretty and young. Swamped in the fabric, letting your scent mingle with his. He wants to bury his face in the fabric, breathe deep. He wants to fuck you with his hoodie on, pin you down on the couch, tug your panties to the side, and sink right in. You’d get so wet, he’s sure of it. Cream around his cock so much that it would sound fucking obscene.
“Mr. Donaldson?” You break his train of thought, smiling pretty over at him. “Are you calling your driver?”
No. “Yeah,” he says, and grabs his phone from his pocket. His thumbs fumble with his passcode, and you laugh softly as you watch him struggle. Like it’s a game, like you know exactly what you’re doing to him.
He feels the soft weight of your hand on his thigh— timid, testing. Your fingers flex, dimpling his thigh through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. He looks down before he thinks to look at your face. Pretty, manicured nails, a purity ring that’s clearly just for decoration. Only inches away from the spot where he’s tenting the fabric of his pants.
When he finally tears his eyes away to meet your gaze, you look at him through wide eyes and pretty lashes. “Do you have to?”
Words fail him. He swallows hard, tries to think of the many things he should say. I’m married. You’re the babysitter. You’re too young for me. I’m happily married. I’m married. Your pretty hand palms him through the cotton fabric of his pajamas and he lets out a helpless groan.
“Fuck, kiddo—“ It slips out like nothing, and you smile wickedly at the words, taking it as encouragement to keep going, coaxing him to full hardness. “You’ve gotta— ngh— stop—”
But thinking that doesn’t stop him from bucking up into the warmth of your hand, seeking that friction as you smile softly up at him. “Do you want me to?” You ask, grinding the heel of your palm against his cock. He groans, head falling against the back of the couch as his dick kicks in interest.
He doesn’t want you to stop, but he needs you to, so badly. “I’m too old for you,” he pants. He lifts his hips so you can tug his pajamas and briefs down his legs. “I’m— mmm— I’m married.” He can’t stop himself, he needs you to get a clear head and realize that fucking the married father of the kid you’re babysitting is wrong.
But you won’t. God, you won’t. You’ve been fucking aching for it since the first night on the job, when he handed you a check and patted your back and thanked you for taking good care of his girl.
You knew he was married, you didn’t care. There were plenty of movies about married men fucking their nannies, plenty of stories in gossip magazines about rich and famous guys doing it. Besides, Tashi’s away, Art’s lonely. Look how hard he gets just from sitting next to you! Someone has to take care of him while she’s gone.
He’s hot in your grip— pulsing and dribbling precum. When your thumb sweeps over his tip to gather it, he groans and bucks into your grasp. You smile like you’ve won a prize and continue the persistent glide of your hands along his length.
“You’re so big,” you say, like you’re surprised by it. He’s definitely bigger than your ex boyfriends— longer, thicker. An insistent heat pools between your thighs, slick and dampening the cotton of your panties. His cheeks flush when you compliment his size, and you follow his half-lidded gaze to where he’s watching your small hand pump along his cock. Oh. He’s so easy.
“I don’t know if you’ll even fit, Mr. Donaldson.”
Jesus fucking Christ. He slings an arm across his eyes, like covering them could change what’s actively happening. “Fuck, kiddo, you can’t say things like that.”
You draw your lips into a pout and sling your leg over his lap, so you’re settled firm and warm and alive, right above where he wants you. “Why not?” You ask, leaning in to nuzzle right at his jaw. He pants hot against your ear. “You wonder about it, don’t you? How you’d ever manage to stuff your cock inside of me when I’m so small and tight down there.”
His hand is fisted into the sofa cushion— you have to pry it off, and up. His hand fits between your legs easily, like it belonged there. Thick fingers pressed against the damp cotton shielding your pussy from him. He moans pathetically. “Jesus,” he groans. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
His gaze fixes on the tug of your bottom lip between your teeth, the coyness in the tiniest action. But your mouth falls open as he presses his fingers a little harder, feels the saturated fabric mold against your cunt. “Ah— yeah— just… to the side—“ You gasp. Your thighs tremble where you hold yourself up, as he hooks two fingers in the damp cotton and pulls it to the side to reveal your pretty little pussy.
A pretty gasp escapes your lips as his thumb traces the line of you, from your twitching hole, desperate to be filled, up to your aching clit. All of that youthful bravado disappears the second he touches your cunt where you need, replaced with an all-consuming, primal need. “Please, please—“ You gasp.
He could say no. He should say no. He should pull your panties back into place, fix your shorts, and send you on your way with his driver. But he doesn’t. “Hold your shorts to the side,” he says, and you obey immediately, like you’ve been compelled to. Your pretty fingers hook into the nylon fabric, gather up the cotton of your panties too, and you tug them so he can have full access to your cunt.
“C’mere, kiddo,” he coos, tugging you closer,so you’re just barely hovering over his cock. You’re panting, breath shaky from anticipation as you grind your hips down, eyes fluttering at the tiniest bit of stimulation. “That’s it. Just relax for me.”
The press of his cockhead against your entrance makes you whine softly. Your hole twitches, pulsing, begging for more. The sound that you make when the first inch sinks inside is like pure fucking music— the way your brows knit and your free hand grabs at his shoulder to stay grounded. He stops moving, he lets you do the work.
And— Jesus— you’re fucking tight. He feels you squeezing around him like a vise, like your pussy was made to milk him dry. Soft, whimpery gasps fall from your lips alongside your staccato breaths, your face a vision of something along the lines of pain and pleasure. He mouths at your jaw, mumbling against your skin. “You’ve almost got it, kiddo, just a little more.”
You whine at that, brow furrowed in concentration as you finally take him to the hilt, so you’re fully seated on his cock. You look drunk on it, on him. He glances down and looks at where your pussy flares open to accommodate him and feels dizzy with the need to hold you in place and fuck into the wet, sucking heat of your cunt.
“Fuck, I’ve gotta move,” he groans. You nod breathlessly. “Can you take it? Tell me you can take it.”
A moment’s hesitation, but you nod. “I can— I can take it.”
He plants his feet and holds you by your waist, keeping you where he wants you, as he pulls out and drives back in, burying himself deep. Your moan is strangled, muffled in the fabric of his tee shirt as you bite down. He relishes in your pretty noises with each rough thrust back in, in the wet smack of his balls against your pussy, and the slick sounds of dripping, sticky arousal. Your body jostled each time he bottoms out, eyes rolling back.
This is what you’ve wanted, what you’ve been craving. Art Donaldson all to yourself, if only for the night. He’s not going to last long— not when it’s you and you’re so tight and hot around him— but you aren’t either. Clumsy, shaking hands toy with your clit as he drives himself in again and again and again. “That’s it,” he groans. “Touch yourself like that. God, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight, kiddo, fuck—“
You cum with a muffled cry into his shoulder, walls spasming and gripping his cock tight as you finish. Slick, creamy arousal circles the base of his cock, makes everything sound stickier and more obscene. He fucks into you, panting and groaning the most delicious sounds as he lets your walls milk him for all he’s worth. One, two more deep thrusts and he’s done for— balls drawing up as he spills hot and thick into your cunt.
You’re limp in his arms, all tired out. A soft whine escapes your lips as he pulls out, leaving you empty and dripping with his spend. He’s quick to pull your panties and shorts back into place, making sure that nothing drips and makes a mess before he tugs up his own clothes. You laugh breathlessly as he lets you wrap yourself around him like a koala, nuzzling into his shoulder.
“Can I go home tomorrow?” You mumble, nosing at his throat.
He rubs your back. “Whatever you want, kiddo.”
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