#past-life retrieval

[lokavisi]

Let's all act surprised that I'm gonna gush about Loki for a minute.

My friend just hosted a workshop on past life reconciliation. I have zero experience with past life work of any kind. Loki was such a loving and gentle presence as they worked through showing me what the whole process looks like for me. When I struggled with separating my present self from my past self, He gently guided me back and reminded me to breathe. When I had questions or was confused, He answered them with kindness and patience. When I cried seeing what my past self had experienced, He held me tighter than I think I've ever felt Him hold me before. He held my past energy body in his arms and walked it right out of a toxic situation, a toxic place, away from all the toxic people. And he drove me (present and past energy body-me) to the Starbucks up the road from our house. My wife and I like to go there in the evenings when we need a little breather and can afford to stay up a little later. We'll grab a drink in the drive thru and sit in our car in the parking lot to just talk. It's a comfort place, physically and emotionally. So Loki took me there, got me a drink, and parked the car. And He helped me hold my past self in my arms and reassure them until they dissipated and reabsorbed back into my present self. It was an incredibly quick working. The journey was only 10 minutes. But in that short time He taught me so much about this healing process and just how goddamn much He cares. I've had Him dish some shit out to me about difficult situations before, but this past trauma was no goddamn joke to Them. Loki has shown up for me so many times, both to be my guide through journey workshops like these and just in general in my daily life. I cannot imagine doing this work without Them. I am sorry that I ever doubt how much They care. I wouldn't be where I'm at without Them pushing me and guiding me through so much. I can't imagine it happening any other way, and I frankly don't know if I care to. I am just so incredibly grateful in this moment to share this lifetime or any other with such a Deity. ❤️

[cuntwrap--supreme]

My dog has been having senior moments, such as randomly forgetting what she's doing or trying to walk into a street, and I've been calling her "Mr. President" when it happens.

Like, "No, Mr. President, we can't walk into oncoming traffic. That's how we get killed!"

[golden-girl-daisy]

Bailey’s been a little off the past few days so her vet recommended a neurologist for her. Keep her in your thoughts on Thursday while she gets tested for everything.

[lunapwrites]

Sorry this is super random but I came here from the notes of the Arabian post. Did you say you had a SHETLAND/Arabian cross??? That lived to 40??? That’s the most chaotic combo ever wtf. Legendary. Do you have any photos? :)

As a matter of fact:

This is Buddy. Pictured with his two modes (FOOD??? and [yawn].)

He was very handsome and very goofy. He didn't QUITE make it to 40; he was 38 when he passed due to a very sudden seizure. We don't know what specifically caused it. :( I believe by that point he was retired. There are about ten years between the two pictures above, FYI... I want to say the bottom one was taken a few months prior to his passing.

My stepdad worked on the farm where Buddy was born and thus knew the story: Arabian from a neighboring farm jumped his fence, jumped THEIR fence, and bred a shetland mare who was like... typical wee shetland sized. (He was apparently Very Determined.) He was one of the very first ponies (loose definition) that my stepdad had for his operation. And he always looked visibly off compared to the others, both due to height and due to just... idk, his face? He was built different, and you could tell. I want to say he was about 13-14 hands at the shoulder? Don't quote me on that, I'm not good with hands. But he BARELY qualified as a pony. His tail was pathetic but it did do the lift thing when he ran. He tried. XD His face was slightly concave at the forehead and I wish I had a good profile picture of him but I do not.

He knew how to play dead, loved belly rubs, and had a maaaaajor sweet tooth that resulted in him constantly stealing candy from kids at fairs (literally took a kid's entire cotton candy right off the stick once and kept walking, that was hilarious) but which ended up with him having bad teeth later in life. He was incredibly friendly, got along with every other member of the herd (except for the ones who hated everyone else, and even then it was a mutual tolerance), and rarely gave anyone any fuss UNLESS he randomly decided to get a bug up his ass for literally no reason.

His cute hoof puppy to insane hellbeast ratio actually skewed harder towards the crazy end as he got older (most likely because he was on a special diet because of his teeth) and he did once try to run my partner over because ???? felt like it??? I don't know lol. There was no trigger, it was just A Day. Luckily my partner was in fact bigger and held his ground and couldn't be jumped over due to the existence of ceilings lol. But it was a near thing and he definitely thought about it.

He was unironically my stepdad's favorite child. I miss him a lot.

Bonus:

Baby Buddy.

I don't think I was born yet when this picture was taken and that still kinda fucks me up a little lol. Someone's random toddler for scale (yes someone was holding her.)

[deus-ex-mona]

it’s ✨okay✨, right~?

[cozza-frenzy]

Also - repeatedly making the same mistakes, because the different parts of the memory that you would have learned a lesson from are separated. Your brain keeps failing to connect events together coherently, because there's An Amnesia Barrier In The Way (tm)

Amnesia in DID/OSDD can be:

Missing chunks of your childhood memories

Suddenly finding yourself in a place you don't remember going

Blinking, and suddenly, hours/days/weeks+ have passed

But it can also be:

Skipping or doubling medications because you don't know if they've been taken already

Retelling the same story to someone sometimes only minutes or hours apart

Being called a liar because you don't remember something you did/said

Your credit card declining because you don't remember spending money

Panicking when you realize you forgot a conversation and what if you said things you shouldn't have

Missing appointments or showing up on the wrong day

Finding things in the trash that you tried to hide from yourself

Obsessively checking the clock and calendar to remember what time/day it is

Yes, many of these are things most people experience. Forgetfulness is not anything abnormal. The thing to differentiate is the distress it causes along with the "not-me" sense that comes with these DDs, the feeling of passive influence or vaguely shared internal memories or mentally staring into a void searching for a crumb of memory and finding nothing but void.

[cassandraclare]

Kit to Ty

Election day: misery, stress, hair-pulling, at least for Americans (and a lot of other people around the world affected by our politics!) So I thought I'd post a distraction; I hope it helps and doesn't annoy!

A while ago I posted the beginning of a letter from Kit to Ty, created for a Kickstarter backer. Here's the full text:

A letter from Kit to Ty, never sent.

Ty, Ty, Ty.

Your name looks strange written out like that. Like an abbreviation. But Tiberius would be so formal. I never think of you that way. Or, I suppose I should say, I never thought of you that way. Tenses matter in these situations, I guess.

It’s late, past midnight, and I’m sitting on the windowsill in my bedroom at Cirenworth. Jem and Tessa gave me one of the best rooms. Of course they did. It has a view out over the gardens. Sometimes I see the ghost of a dog there, a golden retriever I’m pretty sure, running in and out of the flowerbeds. He seems like a pretty happy ghost. I think about how much you like animals and how much they love you, because of course they do. But it’s too late; this dog passed away a long time ago. You probably couldn’t even see him. It’s too late for a lot of things, now.  

I’m still mad at you, and I don’t feel good about that. Maybe if I could forget, I could forgive. But I can’t forget that night you brought Livvy back. I’ll suddenly remember even when I’m thinking about something else. I’ll be in the middle of helping Tessa in the garden and suddenly I’ll turn around and I’m back in Idris. 

I remember I told you I loved you. I remember I told you I would help you, but not if you raised Livvy from the dead. Not if you did necromancy. But you wanted that more than you wanted me.

And I understand that. I’m not angry about that. Here’s what I’m angry about: when you brought Livvy back, you changed yourself. You made yourself a different person than the one I loved. I don’t know the person you are now. You took yourself away from me. I can’t forgive that. And you made me someone who has to keep a secret I never wanted to keep. I was raised by someone who had so many awful secrets, and when I started my life as a Shadowhunter I wanted to do it openly, and honestly. But now I’m just someone else with secrets I can never tell. Just like my dad.

It makes me angry, so angry. I want to yell at you. I wish you were here so I could yell at you.

Kit

[plutotheplum]

A Lust for Love

sylus x fem!reader - part 2 to resonance

summary: ever since you've left the N109 zone, you find yourself missing a certain white-haired man.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, masturbation, oral sex - m!receiving, p in v, light spanking, dirty talk, possessiveness, praise kink, inappropriate video, size mentions

wc: 5.7k

a/n: the amount of times sylus kept autocorrecting to stylus has actually driven me insane. also, this could work as a standalone (i think)... thank you for reading! <3

also on ao3!

It’s been a month since you’ve left the N109 Zone. 

You had settled back into your old routine easily enough. Jenna had kept you busy, sending you out on mission after mission. However, Wanderer incidents had become relatively stable over the past few weeks, so much so that you were hardly fighting them. Your time had been taken up by training instead, spent out at either the facilities provided by the Hunter Association. 

Life had become so mundane as of late that you found yourself missing the thrill of the N109 Zone. It had kept you on your toes, challenged you and the investigative work had been far more rewarding, not to mention you had managed to retrieve the Aether Core’s other half, which was now safely hidden in your possession. To your chagrin, the modified protocore hadn’t done anything special. You had tried experimenting on it with your Evol, but all that was left was a dull shine. 

There was also another reason you were missing the N109 Zone though. That reason came in the form of a white-haired man with crimson eyes. Sylus. You couldn’t believe you were actually thinking it, but you were starting to miss the bastard. The lack of his stupid remarks and untimely jabs were starting to make you feel lonely. This was without mentioning that night of pleasure, of course.

No one had ever touched you like that. You still remember the way he had whispered filth into your ears, the way he had fucked into you without abandon. You had barely been able to keep up with him the next day at training. Stumbling like a fawn, your legs had been shaking so badly that the shopkeeper had grown concerned that your bones were experiencing some sort of unknown, sudden-onset deteriorating disease. Sylus had merely brushed it off, explaining that you had eaten something bad. The smug smile he’d sent behind the shopkeeper’s back had made your eye twitch. 

He hadn’t rewarded you like he had said though. His work had kept him busy, and it was Luke and Kieran that were coming around to keep you company for the remainder of your stay. The twins were definitely a strange pair, but they were sort of cute in a way, and you found that their bickering was reminiscent of the relationship between you and Caleb. 

Mephisto had also taken to accompanying you throughout the base. You weren’t exactly sure what the mechanical bird ate, but after a few little pets and scratches you felt as though it was warming up to you. 

Unfortunately for you, Sylus had left an indelible mark on both your mind and your body. It was probably the reason you were in this very predicament, with your hand stuffed down your shorts in the middle of the night.

You’d been trying to get off for a while now, but no matter how many times you rubbed your clit or tried fingering yourself, you could not get yourself to come. Your fingers couldn’t mimic the way Sylus had fingered you, couldn’t reach as deep inside of you. There’s an irritated grumble leaving you as you squeeze your eyes shut and let out a muffled scream into your pillow.

Taking in another deep breath, you’re deciding to give it another go. The pads of your fingers circle against your aching clit and you’re letting out a soft sigh, lashes fluttering. You imagine Sylus touching you, his lips against your skin as he rocks his hips into you. Wetness begins to leak out and you're biting your lip, letting out a low whine into the quietness of the night. Pleasure begins to coil inside your lower stomach and there’s more whines escaping you, fingers rubbing faster against your clit. You can feel the tension in your body beginning to build, back arching as you remember the way Sylus had spoken to you that night. 

“Please, please,” you’re begging out into the empty room, brows furrowing when the pleasure suddenly stalls and your chances of reaching an orgasm fade “no, please- fuck! ” 

You try and rub a little faster but it’s completely gone, your wrist aching with how long you’ve been at it. Tugging your hand out of your shorts, you stare at it as though it were a traitor. 

There’s frustration etched across your face, your cheek squishing against the pillow as you stare at the wall sullenly. Stupid Sylus with his stupid face and his stupid fingers and stupidly addictive cock. The man had completely ruined your ability to masturbate. 

At your wits end, you decide to give it one last try. You’re desperate, horny and utterly stressed. Just as you’ve managed to slip your hand down your sleep shorts again, your phone begins to ring.

You squeeze your eyes shut, clamping your mouth shut to prevent the scream that wants to escape. It wouldn’t do you any good to get complaints from your neighbors. Grabbing at your phone blindly, you hit the accept button.

“Hello?” you mumble into the phone.

“Stop squirming around in bed, it’s making Mephisto uncomfortable.”

You shoot up when you hear the voice on the other end of the line.

“Sylus?” your voice is a hiss, eyes darting towards the window.

Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment when you see Mephisto sitting on the railing of your balcony, his little crow head tilted as he stares at you. A wince escapes you at the thought of the crow watching your pathetic attempts to get off and it has you mouthing a silent apology towards the bird. 

Mephisto only lets out an indignant caw , turning his beak to the side haughtily.

You groan, flopping back down onto the bed.

“How are you able to see me right now?” you ask, brows furrowing.

“Look outside,” Sylus replies.

You stumble onto your feet, staring out into the darkened surroundings. Eyes squinting, your face presses against the glass, eyes catching on a camera attached to a street light. Oddly enough, the camera tilts towards you. You tilt your head to the other side and it mimics you. 

So he was keeping tabs on you. Creepy, but also a little comforting.

“It’s been a long time,” you murmur, staring out of the window again.

Mephisto’s begun to groom his feathers.

“Do you miss me?” he asks.

You can hear the creak of his chair as he leans back in it.

“No,” you retort, a frown settling on your face. An outright admission of your feelings would be confessing that you would be warming up to him. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction, especially not when he had more or less ignored you for a month. 

“Liar,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice, “in fact, it seems as though my favorite little Hunter is struggling to sleep.”

His favorite little Hunter. The idea of being anyone’s favorite, much less Sylus’s has your heart fluttering wildly. He had been thinking about you then. There’s a darker part of you that hopes Sylus has been having the same problems as you. It would serve him right, after all.

Sylus sighs into the phone, “I did warn you,” he murmurs, “I told you I wouldn’t be there to please you when you were feeling needy.”

“I- I am not feeling needy!” you respond, voice pitching as you protest against his observation.

“Another lie,” he clicks his tongue and you hear more rustling on the other end of the line, “is it your plan to keep lying for the duration of this call, my dear Hunter? Hm?” 

His taunt has you gritting your teeth, until all your frustrations come pouring out.

“You’ve stolen my ability to orgasm!” you snap into the phone, your tone accusing.

“My, my,” Sylus drawls, “how bold you’ve become, hissing at me like a little kitten.” 

“It’s not funny, Sylus” you say, anger replaced by a sense of gloom “ever- ever since that night, I haven’t been able to come at all.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line. You don’t think he was expecting you to actually be honest. There’s a soft sigh escaping you, eyes slipping shut. You can hear the sound of him breathing, then an odd clinking noise.

“I have to go,” he says suddenly and the line cuts off.

You scoff, looking at your phone screen to see that he has in fact ended the call. What an asshole. You had just confided in him about your intimacy issues and the man had left you high and dry. A frown settles on your face and you almost feel hurt by his sudden change in behavior. Perhaps you shouldn’t have expected more from the leader of Onychinus. 

There’s a tapping noise against the glass of the window. Mephisto lets out another little caw , his wings fluttering for a bit as though waving goodbye. You lift your own hand, giving him a wave and watch as he flies out into the night. Just like that, you were all alone again.

You sigh, crawling back into bed with a pout on your face. The blankets are tugged up over your body, eyes slipping shut as you try to fall asleep. It doesn’t come easily, your efforts upended when your phone lights up.

Tapping across the screen, the messages between you and Sylus pop up. He’s sent you a video. 

Deciding to press play, your throat dries when you see what he’s sent you. His thighs are spread slightly, belt undone as he palms himself through his trousers. You nearly whimper at the sight, moving the phone closer to your face. The bulge of his cock is clear, making his trousers look uncomfortably tight.

You understand why he ended the call so quickly now. Sylus was trying to help alleviate the frustration caused by your little problem. You can hear Sylus let out a low groan and you’re biting your lip, letting your thighs squeeze together.

He palms himself a few more times before he’s dragging down the zip of his trousers. His chair creaks as he lifts his hips and you’re letting out a whimper into the air when you see his hard length in his boxers.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he murmurs, palming himself a little more before he’s pulling down his boxers as well.

Arousal is pooling between your thighs and your pussy begins to ache. Drool collects in your mouth at the sight of his uncovered cock. It’s just as thick as you remember, his tip just as dark from that night. 

Sylus lets out another groan, his hand wrapping around his cock. You can’t wait any longer, your hand shoving itself back down into your shorts. The stickiness of your arousal is welcome, and you’re letting out a whine, fingers circling your clit.

You can see him squeeze as his knuckles tighten before his hand is dragging up and down, stroking his cock at a lazy pace. His breaths are heavy and he’s shifting again, his thighs spreading a little more as he gets comfortable.

“Work has been terribly stressful,” Sylus says, his wrist rotating as he jerks himself off, “I imagine you’d need the relief too. My fat cock in your mouth, you could just keep it on your tongue, get lost in the haze. Would you like that, sweetie?”

You’re nodding at the phone even though he can’t see you. Your fingers are rubbing at your clit desperately, whining into your pillows as he strokes himself for you.

Sylus lets out a low grunt, his hand moving faster. It’s an enthralling watch. His pretty fingers wrapped around himself, the tufts of white hair at the base of his cock and the little telltale twitches of his thighs. 

“Such a shame you aren’t here,” he sighs and your noises are growing more frequent, feeling the ache in your cunt fade as pleasure builds, “I could’ve taken you here on my desk, given you some of those kisses that you so desperately crave.”

Your body is flushed, sweat beginning to cover your skin as your hips roll, grinding your pussy against your fingers.

“Ah fuck ,” he whispers, squeezing around his cock a little tighter. Pre-cum has begun to drip from his cock steadily and you want to somehow teleport through the screen so you can lick it up for him, feel the taste of him on your tongue. 

You rub faster, moaning when he zooms in so you can see the fat tip of his cock wet with his cum.

He grunts, his hand twisting around his length. You can see his thighs twitch a little more and your own orgasm is building like never before.

“Come with me, baby” he encourages, his cock twitching in his grasp.

There’s a moan of his name and you’re coming on your fingers, thighs twitching uncontrollably as your orgasm hits. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open, a mewl leaving your lips when his cock jerks, thick cum spurting out of his tip. He sighs, letting go of his cock, allowing it to slap against his abdomen, cum smearing across his skin. 

You can hear his deep laugh and he’s moving the camera so you can get a better look at his spent cock.

“Sleep well, Miss Hunter.”

The video ends. You’re panting softly, staring up at the ceiling. You can hardly believe he’d done that.

Deciding to give him a little gift of your own, the bedside lamp flicks on and you're squirming out of your shorts, moving your camera between your thighs so you can snap a picture of the aftermath. The image is a bit blurry, but you’re too tired, sending it off to him anyways. It seems an orgasm was what you needed, your eyes drooping shut as you sink into a slumber.

A few hours pass and you’re stifling hot. You don’t remember your blankets wrapping around you so tightly or your face pressing into a hard pillow. Still under the spell of sleep, you squirm around, letting out a sleepy grumble. It’s so hot .

When the heat doesn’t cease, your brows are pulling together, bleary eyes making your vision fuzzy. It’s still dark outside from what you can tell. You try to move, but something is keeping you in place. Your skin prickles, breath coming out in short little gasps. A scream tears out of your throat when you see a man’s figure on your bed. There’s a bit of flailing and your leg is kicking out, landing a blow to the man’s stomach. You kick him again and he’s letting out a pained grunt, falling off your bed with a loud thump . Scrabbling for your gun, your finger hooks around the trigger, aiming it at the man as he stands up.

There’s no time to shoot, red and black vines swirling across your arms and jerking your gun away from you.

Oh.

You rub at your eyes a little more to see Sylus standing there, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. 

He examines your gun, shaking his head when he realizes it’s not even loaded.

“Your reaction time is poor,” he says, tossing your gun onto the bedside table.

“What- what are you even doing here?” you demand, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I thought it was obvious,” Sylus replies, laying back down on your bed. 

He stares back at you, smirking when you don’t come to lay down with him. He uses his Evol, the tendrils lifting you in the air and laying you down gently.

You feel his arms wrapping around you, tugging you back into the warmth of his chest.

“You enjoyed my little show,” he whispers, his fingers running through your hair absentmindedly.

“I did,” you admit, peering up at him.

He stares back at you, his hand coming to cup your cheek. You feel his thumb smoothing over your skin and the action is so soothing that it has your eyes fluttering shut. 

“I never said you could break into my apartment though,” you say.

“Such a minor detail,” he sighs, a smile on his face, “you ought to be more grateful that I’m here. I am a busy man after all.”

“Too busy,” you mutter under your breath.

“Oh? How telling, darling” he grins at you devilishly. 

You shoot him an unimpressed look, turning so that your back is to him.

“If I had known you were going to be so difficult, I would’ve brought you something,” he says, his hand squeezing your hip. 

You don’t respond. He’s letting out another sigh, his Evol activating as he turns you back towards him.

“Must you always be so stubborn?” he whispers.

You get lost in his eyes and his hand cups your cheek again as he lowers his head towards yours.

“I’ve missed you,” he confesses, his lips brushing over yours. 

Your cheeks flush. You weren’t exactly expecting him to confess that he had been missing you. It appeared as though you were both entering dangerous territory. Festering feelings only led to a convoluted mind. 

There’s a smirk on his face and you can feel him plant a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Aren’t you going to return my affection?” he asks, his nose nudging against yours, “I’ve been generous, haven’t I?”

You’re too stubborn to respond and he huffs out a laugh, eyes glimmering with mirth.

“Very well,” Sylus says, “I suppose I’ll just have to fuck it out of you.”

His lips are on yours in an instant. This kiss isn’t rushed like when you had first kissed, languid instead of rough. The soft sounds of your lips smacking together fills the room and Sylus can’t keep his hands off of you, his palms smoothing over your waist and hips, squeezing at the fat he can grab.

Sylus is pulling away, sitting up so his back is against the headboard of your bed. He offers you his hand and you take it, letting him pull you towards him. You settle onto his lap, straddling him, thighs on either side of his hips. He’s kissing you again and it’s you that’s cupping his cheek, guiding him. 

He groans into your mouth and you whine back, arms looping around his neck. There’s spit leaking out from the sides of your mouths with how passionate the kisses have become. Sylus licks into your mouth, his tongue grazing yours. Your hips are beginning to rock, gasping into his mouth when you feel his hardness between your thighs. The fact that you have this much of an effect has you smiling against his lips.

“Something funny?” he asks, peering down at you.

You shake your head, your thumb swiping over his lips gently, “I just didn’t expect you to be so… affected by me.”

“Perhaps you aren’t aware of your own allure then,” he says, head dipping down to kiss you again.

You turn your head however, and his lips end up landing against your cheek. He tries to kiss you again and you deny him, sucking in a deep breath to gather your wavering confidence.

“I want you in my mouth,” you whisper, staring up into his eyes.

There’s a smirk spreading across his face at your admission.

“Don’t laugh!” you whine, smacking his chest.

“It appears I may be a bad influence,” he says, his thumb stroking over your jaw, “or perhaps I am yet to discover the depths of your depravity.”

He’s leaning forward, grip tightening on your chin to give you a kiss that you can’t escape.

“Go on then,” Sylus says, letting go of you.

You move off of his lap, settling between his spread thighs. Your hungry eyes take in the bulge under the fabric of his sweatpants, a small smile spreading across your face.

Leaning forward, you press a kiss to his clothed cock. It twitches under your lips and you hum softly, fingers pulling down his sweatpants to free his cock.

You let out a sigh when his cock springs out, your hand reaching for it greedily. The throb of his cock is hard to ignore, and you’re sneaking a glance up at Sylus.

He’s staring at you, his eyes dark. You can feel his fingers spread across your scalp, threading into your hair. It has you leaning forward, your eyes on his as you kiss the tip of his fat cock gently.

Sylus shudders, biting his lip. You frown when he doesn’t make any noises. Renewing your efforts, your hand squeezes a little tighter, eyes catching on the way pre-cum gathers at the tip.

It has your mouth opening eagerly, tongue lapping up his arousal. The taste only has you addicted, mouth enveloping the head of his cock.

Sylus groans, his hand tightening in your hair.

“I think you have missed me,” he says through gritted teeth.

You shake your head, eyes fluttering shut as you sink your mouth down on him further. His cock is so thick your mouth has already stretched out, struggling to keep your teeth from grazing against his sensitive skin. 

“Keep going, baby” he murmurs, his hand guiding your movements. You can’t fit him into your mouth, not entirely, so it has your hand stroking around the length you can’t reach.

Sylus begins to guide your head, letting your mouth slide up and down his cock as you swirl your tongue. His head is falling back, and you whine when you see the bob of his adam’s apple.

Your mouth suckles harder against the blushed head of his cock, more pre-cum filling your mouth. You swallow it down eagerly, making a soft noise at the taste. Pulling off, you press some more sticky kisses against the tip of his cock and you smile when Sylus nearly whines. 

His cheeks are pink when you look up at him, his pupils dilated with lust. 

“I don’t take kindly to teasing,” he says hoarsely, his hand brushing yours away as he grasps the base of his cock. 

You pout up at him, annoyed that he had removed your hand. Even you don’t know the depths of your own lascivious nature as your head dips lower, mouth latching onto his fat balls.

You bite back a laugh when he grunts, your mouth opening as you suck one of them into your mouth. It feels so good and you’re moaning around it, pussy beginning to ache with want. Sylus strokes himself and you keep your eyes on his, tilting your head as you try and fit both of his balls into your mouth.

“How unbecoming of a Hunter,” he hisses, brows drawing in together as his gaze hardens, “do they know how filthy you are? Sucking my balls into your mouth like a whore .”

You whine, sucking harder around his balls. The taste of his skin has your head swimming, eyes slipping shut. It’s almost relieving, your mind taking solace at the fact that you don’t have to be in control. 

Pain stings across your scalp as Sylus tugs on your hair, pulling your head up. Almost immediately, your tongue is lolling out and he moans, smacking his cock against the pinkness of your tongue. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, “you look beautiful like this.”

You smile, ignoring the uncomfortable ache in your stomach at his compliment, mouth wrapping around his cock again.

“Take it, baby” he continues, his hand pushing your head down slowly. He’s entirely too big, your eyes beginning to water with how far down your throat he is. 

You do your best, head bobbing until your nails are scratching down his thighs, leaving red welts as he pushes your head down fully, your nose hitting the tufts of hair at the base of his cock.

He pulls you up soon after, cooing at your watery eyes as you cough. 

“You’re too big,” you murmur, opting to place soft kisses along his length.

He hums, hand cupping your jaw.

“I could always train you.”

The utterance of such words has your breath hitching and he’s grinning at you, his head lowering as he kisses you sloppily. 

Sylus tugs you up, pulling you back onto his lap.

“Are you sure you didn’t miss me?” he asks, thumbs brushing away the tears that had wet your cheeks when you were swallowing around him.

You nod. His tone has you questioning your relationship with him however. There’s always a sense of softness underlying his actions, as though Sylus sees you for something more . 

He’s making a mess of your feelings, pulling you apart piece by piece and putting you back together the way he wants, pieces of his tenderness embedded within you, much like the Aether Core.

“A shame,” he murmurs, his eyes boring into yours.

You know he can see through your little facade. It’s why the next kiss he gives you is the most tender one yet. His lips work against yours gently, his hands cradling your head. There’s an unspoken promise held within it.

But there isn’t time to dwell on the feelings that are blooming in your heart. Time is sparse in a world like yours and you don’t know when you’ll see him again.

Sylus pats your hip and you’re squirming around, letting him pull off your shirt and shorts. He sighs when he sees your breasts, thumbs brushing the underside of them before he’s reaching for your nipples.

You whimper, head tipping back as he gropes at the fat of your tits. To distract yourself, your hand is slipping between the two of you, hand finding his hard cock. It wraps around him and you begin to stroke the throbbing length. 

Sylus lets out a low groan at the feeling of your soft hand caressing him. His eyes flutter shut as he sucks your nipple into your mouth. You gasp when he bites down gently, feeling the catch of his teeth on your sensitive skin. 

He pulls off of your breast with a pop , and you can hardly bare it anymore, pushing at his shoulders to rise up. Sylus watches with lust-lidded eyes as you grasp his cock, pressing it against where you need him most. He grips your hips, sending you a lazy grin.

“I must say I do enjoy having you on top of me,” he murmurs, his thumb finding your clit. 

You whimper, heat coursing through you as he rubs the little bud, his hand guiding you to sink down on him. You don’t think you could ever get used to the stretch of his cock, the way he sits snug inside of you, as though you were made for each other.

“ Fuck ,” you whimper, hands pressing against his chest, “you- you’re so big .”

“So you’ve said,” Sylus smiles, his hand squeezing your ass, “now indulge me. ”

You nod, hips rolling against his lap. He reaches for your hands, fingers lacing together, a feeling you had dearly missed. Peering up into his eyes, you squeeze his hands, a serene smile spreading across your face as your hips rise and fall. 

Sylus groans at the feeling of your skin slapping against his thighs with every bounce on his lap. The tip of his cock hits the sensitive spot deep inside of your cunt so deliciously that you’ve begun to drool, a cockdrunk giggle slipping out of you as you ride him.

The giggle morphs into a moan when he spanks your ass, your body jolting forward. Sylus’s touches have grown rougher, his hands squeezing almost painfully at your flesh.

“Tell me you miss me,” he hisses and you squeak when you feel him grip your hips, using you like a doll for pleasure when he plants his feet flat against your bed, his hips thrusting up so he can bury his cock in your hot pussy. 

“I don’t,” you hiccup, hands gripping his shoulders as you try to keep up with the roughness of his movements.

Sylus growls and you feel like shrinking away when you see the glare on his face. He almost seems… desperate. You both understand what’s unfolding in this very moment. Desperation, validation, affection. He seeks it from you as though he were a tempest. 

His hand shoots out, gripping your cheeks. You can feel your lips jut out into a pout and he’s leaning forward kissing you messily. You whine, pressing yourself closer, tits squishing against his firm chest. His hips have never slowed, and you’re gasping into his mouth, hands slipping into his hair as he bounces you on his cock.

“Did it ever cross your mind that we may be bound to one another?” Sylus says, his words spoken against your lips.

“Bound?” you pant, your arm wrapping around his neck to support yourself as the burn in your thighs grows more intense.

“Bound,” he affirms, “the Aether Core. It ties me to you in a way that I cannot be tied to another. Perhaps-” he grunts when you slump against him, your hips swaying back to meet his thrusts so that your cunt can swallow his cock, “ perhaps you are my other half .”

The idea he’s proposing sounds absurd. It’s no less than implying the two of you are meant to be together. 

“Don’t- don’t be stupid, Sylus,” you say, feeling his lips leave stinging kisses across your sternum before finding your breast against, his mouth enveloping the mound. 

He nips the side of your breast in retaliation. 

“I am not stupid,” he murmurs, his tongue flicking against your nipple.

“You are ,” you protest, thighs squeezing tighter around his hips when his hand slips between your bodies, thumb rubbing against your clit again.

“I am not ,” he affirms, his forehead nudging against yours so he can stare deep into your eyes.

“I can see it,” Sylus says softly, his nose nuzzling yours, “I can see it in your eyes. The want, the longing . You have missed me.”

You open your mouth to protest but he’s drowning your voice out with a kiss. He swallows every word that threatens to come out, his cock driving deeper and deeper until you’re crying out.

“I missed you!” 

He lets out a laugh and you tuck your face into the crook of his neck, hiding your embarrassed expression. 

“No need to be so shy,” he whispers, “I may revel in the fact that you’ve missed me, but you’re forgetting about my own feelings.”

He grasps your hips, his pace slowing slightly, until you can feel his entire length press inside of you.

“No one else will ever feel this,” he whispers, strong arms wrapping around your waist, “no one else will ever be balls deep in this pretty, little cunt.”

You sink your teeth into his shoulder, moaning. 

“That’s it,” he coos, and the drag of his cock is too hard to ignore, your walls clenching around him tightly as though not wanting to let him go.

“ My pretty pussy,” he whispers against your ear “ my pretty, little Hunter. No one will ever have you.”

His possession has you shuddering, face pressing against his neck as you come around him. Sylus grits his teeth, the squelch of your cunt growing louder as your slick drips down his length, coating his balls.

“I only want you,” you whisper, cupping his cheek so you can kiss along his jaw, “I only want you so- so come for me .”

Sylus doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound so sweet. The lilt of your words, the softness of your voice. It has him groaning loudly, his hands pulling you down, making sure your pussy is flush against the base of his cock as he comes.

You can feel the warmth of his cum, the way his sticky release covers the insides of your pussy. Your lips find his and you kiss him slowly, sweetly as though confessing your own heart’s desire.

He rubs his hands against your back soon after, your head falling against his shoulder. His cock softens inside of you and wetness between your thighs is almost uncomfortable. 

Sylus lays you down and you whimper when his cock slips out of you. He grins at the sight of your trembling thighs, his lithe fingers spreading your folds to find the mess of both your releases leaking out of you. 

“A vision,” he murmurs, his fingers rubbing against your clit gently and you try to push his hand away, whimpering when the overstimulation has your entire body jolting. 

He ignores you, his other hand clasping yours as he caresses your pussy, playing with your folds before he’s lowering his head, placing soft kisses against your mound. Sylus licks up a long stripe, collecting both of your cum on his tongue before he’s pressing his lips against yours, feeding you the mix of essences.

You moan at the taste, squeezing his hand as you suck on his tongue sloppily. He smiles against your lips, pecking them gently before he’s drawing back.

Your body is utterly spent, eyes slipping shut. You can feel Sylus moving, feeling his lips against your cheek as he peppers fleeting kisses across your face while a warm cloth swipes between your sore thighs. 

Sylus tugs you into his chest and you press yourself closer, face burying itself into his chest. 

“I missed you,” you repeat, quieter this time. 

He hums, his hand stroking your hair soothingly as you both unwind.

“I know,” Sylus murmurs, tilting your head so he can press a kiss to your forehead.

You feel your heart swell at the affection and it has you peering up into his eyes. 

“Have I surprised you?” he asks, a smirk settling on his face.

“You always surprise me,” you breathe out, trying to meld your body against his.

He grins, arm slinging around your waist comfortably. 

“Will you stay?” you ask after a few moments, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

You watch as his eyes shut and it’s you that’s petting his hair this time, playing with the soft strands as he contemplates your question.

“For a few days,” he whispers, his hand finding yours.

Sylus intertwines his fingers with yours, bringing your hand closer to his mouth as he places reverent kisses across your knuckles.

It’s enough for now, you think, when he looks into your eyes. 

It’s enough for now because Sylus will always find his way back to you. 

Across the vast expanse of deep space, you will always be his.

[logaenhowlett]

SOMETHING HAPPENS AND I'M HEAD OVER HEELS - L.H.

Summary: What starts off as a simple favour to watch Laura’s cat sends Logan into a spiral as you continue to make your way into his life.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff - Logan is 100% whipped, Wade

A/N: 4.4k - my longest fic yet! Worst!Logan has my entire soul, I'd give anything just for that pretty smile. Title creds to Tears For Fears. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

The familiar burn of whiskey stings the back of his throat. Logan rests his head against the couch, second-guessing his decision to babysit Laura's cat while she's enjoying her night out. Her tireless attempts of pestering him at last working in her favour so he can finally meet his 'copy-kitten' - her words.

A quick glance at the time reveals he should probably head out now. Logan rises, groaning as his muscles protest after weeks of just slumping around the apartment. Even Al had pointed out how lazy he'd become lately. And that unsolicited observation gave him half the mind to consider finding new roommates. But who was he kidding? As much as he also barely tolerated that one incredibly maddening little prick's incessant jibber-jabber, he wasn't going to find anything for what he's currently paying.

Soon enough, he weaves his way through the crowds, swerving past the shoulders of, frankly, one too many people absorbed by their devices to step aside for his large frame. Luckily, Laura's place isn't too far and he really appreciates that detail as the sound of thunder rumbles overhead. A faint ding emerges from his pocket and he retrieves his phone, reading the screen with a slight squint.

His boots soak the welcome mat as he fumbles with the door trim, locating the key according to Laura's text - making a mental note to remind her of personal safety later. Shivering, he shrugs the wet jacket off, tossing it over the armchair. His eyes dart around the room, looking for the damn cat, and for a moment, Logan wonders whether he's being pranked.

The pitter-patter of paws against the hardwood floor has him snapping his head to the little creature in question. The cat, or Leopold Alexis Elijah Walker Thomas Gareth Mountbatten - Leo, for short - he learns begrudgingly after Wade shoved pictures upon pictures to his face one particular day, stares at him with indifference.

Understanding the need to be left alone, Logan trudges towards the kitchen, swinging the fridge open. A small post-it stuck over a box of leftovers, reads "Knew you'd be hungry", has him scoffing, mildly amused that Laura had predicted his actions.

Minutes later, he sinks onto the couch, making brief eye contact with Leo, who's nonchalantly licking his paws. He's halfway through the bowl of pasta when the cat suddenly leaps onto the cushion next to him. Logan watches curiously, he's not terribly experienced around pets, hardly spending any time with Mary Puppins herself despite living under the same roof.

"Alright, here's the deal." He murmurs, "You stay outta my way and I stay outta yours."

Leo replies with a meow to which Logan nods, satisfied by the response. He hopes to god this cat has the same temperament as Dogpool and allows him to simply coexist till Laura returns. Intrigued by the smell, Leo slowly inches forward, gently nudging his head against the bowl.

"Don't think you can eat this, bub."

Leo seems to understand the implication and meows in defiance. With a sigh, Logan gingerly flexes his hand, stroking the cat's head. The act immediately has Leo purring in content, the desire to investigate the food long forgotten. And no one's there to witness the ghost of a smile that teases his lips.

The calm attitude only lasts an hour before Logan's biting back a string of profanities, frustrated by Leo's refusal to take his medication. He's thankful for his healing factor, for otherwise, he'd be covered in a litter of scars. How the hell Laura deals with this devil-of-a-cat is beyond comprehension.

There's no use in trying again. Leo clearly wants nothing to do with him or what he's hiding in his hand. The thought of seeking help crosses his mind, perhaps one of the neighbours is especially skilled in feeding pills to literal hellspawns. Logan tunes his hearing to the apartments on the floor. Old lady already asleep to her TV - no. A family of six attempting to eat dinner in peace - no. Two people about to - fuck no. Now he really wants a word with Laura about her living situation.

Just when he's about to give up, a recognisable melody reaches his ears - one he's unwilling heard Wade jam out to in the shower. This person swaying along to music seems far more approachable than anyone else in this building, and so he steps out, knocking on the apartment across from Laura's.

The door cracks open slightly, you peek your head out giving him a questioning look, “Um… hi? Can I help you?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you. But, uh… I’m watching Laura’s - your neighbour’s cat.” Embarrassment creeps into his cheeks as he points behind him, “He’s not takin’ his meds and uh do you… can you help me? Please?”

The look of absolute defeat paired with the remnants of red scratch marks on his arms has your heart clenching for this poor man, “Of course.”

When the door fully opens, Logan’s eyes widen reflexively at the state of your undress. There’s nothing evocative about it, yet he feels as though he’s intruding on an intimate side of you. One he’s definitely not privy to.

Your sheepish smile sends a wave of something indescribable through his body. He clears his throat, turning on his heel to lead you inside. Leo flicks his head up at the sound of footsteps, purring as if he hasn’t been driving Logan insane for the past hour.

You knew Laura had rescued the little guy a while ago, having run into her in the hallway the night she brought him home. Every interaction you’ve had presents him as the sweetest kitten in the world, so watching the distinct mark of dread on this stranger’s face has you stifling a laugh.

“What?” Logan asks, feeling a little self-conscious about the whole situation.

“Nothing. It’s just - Leo’s very friendly. Or at least, I thought so… what the hell did you do to piss him off?” You chuckle, kneeling a foot away.

“Piss him off? I was just tryin’ to give him the damn pills. Had no problem with me before that.” Logan’s fingers twitch as you approach the cat, wanting to protect you from the sharp claws the demon would surely attack you with.

Yet, to his astonishment, Leo innocently crawls into your outstretched arms. And Logan swears he saw a flicker of mockery come across the cat’s eyes as he peers at him, relishing your comforting embrace.

“See? He’s a sweetheart.”

The fondness in your tone almost has him believing your words. In no time, Leo’s fully cooperating with your gentle requests, happily taking the medication as if it’s the tastiest thing in the world.

Logan learns three things that night. One, your name. Two, that you have some innate ability to charm everyone around you - human or otherwise. Three, he absolutely couldn’t wait to see you again.

Logan tries to drain out the shouting match between his two roommates, ducking calmly as Al’s miscalculated spatula throw flies in his direction. Laura giggles next to him, entertained by the whole ordeal - Wade had accidentally left his cock ring plugged in the bathroom again, nearly short-circuiting the apartment.

“Hey! Kink shaming is very frowned upon, Althea.”

“You motherfucker! I almost got electrocuted by the toaster this morning!”

Logan grumbles to himself, knowing there’ll never be a quiet, normal day in this household. He turns to Laura, “Kid, you wanna grab some food later?”

“Can’t. I’m going out.”

He nods, not giving it a second thought. But as the memory of you flashes across his mind, he stops bouncing his leg, heart beating a little faster. It had been a whopping seven days since that interaction, yet every little detail has stuck with him since. In fact, he spent many hours pacing in his room planning some way to magically run into you.

“… What about the cat?” He asks, and when she raises her eyebrow, “Who’s watchin’ him?”

She replies with a shrug, “I’ll figure it out.”

The solution to his problem falls perfectly onto his lap. Oh, how his pulse quickens at the thought. And as if to not seem suspiciously enthusiastic, he pauses before speaking, “I can do it.” 

“Why?”

“Better than this shit.”

Laura considers him for a moment then agrees casually - she knows exactly why he offered. You had bumped into her a couple of days ago, offhandedly mentioning meeting Logan that night as you recounted the details of your week. It took mere seconds to put two and two together and realise he was incredibly smitten.

Logan spends a good fifteen minutes messing with his hair. Fuck, did it always spike up like that? The one tiny mirror in his room supposedly taunting him with each look over. A low tsk breaks the flood of self-criticism as he slams the door shut behind him, roughly brushing past Wade.

"Ooh, is that cologne I smell or are you just horny to see me?"

His teasing spirit immediately drops when Logan shoots him a glare, precisely throwing Al's spatula straight at his crotch.

"God - not the home office, peanut! Jim and Pam need protection!"

The walk to Laura's seems a lot shorter this time, some sort of nervous, giddy energy surging through his chest with each step. Logan bites the insides of his cheeks, feeling childish by the stupid smile daring to grace his lips just at the sheer thought of you. He can't remember the last time someone had drawn these kind of emotions from him. A part of him wants to cower in fear of rejection and self-doubt, and other? Oh, it's got your name written all over.

As soon as he reaches the hallway, all his senses are directed to your apartment. Confused by the silence he finds instead, Logan strains his hearing harder than ever. Hm, it's barely seven-thirty, maybe you're not home yet? Disappointment twirls around his mind, he sighs before opening Laura's door, convincing himself it's probably for the better.

To his surprise, Leo behaves quite well this time around - eating his food, taking his medication, and sticking with minimal efforts to annoy him. The black and white movie he randomly chose keeps his thoughts from drifting to you for the most part, though he can't help but wonder where you are at - he checks his watch - 10:38 pm on a Thursday?

Whatever hope he held onto paints him a fool as time slips by. He couldn't blame you, you didn't owe him anything. Logan runs a hand down his face, and despite his wavering relationship with Leo, he's at least grateful for the cat's company on this rather lonely night.

"Was a dumb idea, huh?" He mumbles, gently scratching Leo's ear.

Not ten minutes later, the jingle of something hitting the floor has him sitting up, intrigued. Logan pads over to look through the peephole, his heart fluttering at the sight of you. It doesn't take a genius to note your drunken state with the way you're cursing and fumbling with the keys. His hand rests against the doorknob, a flash of hesitation creeping in. Do you even want to see him right now?

Before he can psych himself out, his instincts make the decision for him. Logan's unsure of how to announce his presence, wanting to avoid any chances of scaring you. In hindsight, that task should’ve been deemed impossible when you flinch suddenly anyway.

"Logan! Shit - did I wake you up?"

He chuckles at that and before he can even respond, you fire off another question, "Wait, what're you doing here?"

"Laura's out. I'm on babysitting duty." Leo purrs from somewhere behind him in confirmation. Logan watches as you nod slowly, the keys once again sliding from your grasp, "Here, let me help you."

The two of you reach down, fingertips barely grazing as he reacts faster than you. He realises he's much closer than he anticipated when your perfume crowds his senses. Logan buries the urge to meet your eyes deep, deep down, instead unlocking the door with a clenched jaw.

He's very appreciative of the fact that you're too out of it to observe his actions. He wanders into the kitchen to fetch some water, a laugh nearly spilling out of him as you collapse onto the couch, "Hey, easy."

"I'm not that drunk."

"I believe you." He lifts the glass to your lips, words ever so soft, "But... how about we get you to bed hm? Doesn't that sound better than this couch?" When you blink at him tiredly, Logan knows it's so over for him - every shred of denial he held within now shattered by your very hands.

"Okay... "

He maintains some distance, assuming you'd stubbornly dismiss his attempts to guide you to the bedroom. Leaning by the doorframe, he doesn't try to hide the fondness in his expression as you settle under the covers.

"Night, Logan."

He hears you murmur beneath the blanket. It's almost natural how quickly he replies as if you've had this exchange hundreds of times before, "Good night, sweetheart."

A groan leaves you as the sunlight eventually breaches the comfort of your dark room. Rubbing your eyes, you blindly reach for the bedside table, hoping to find your phone. Instead, your hand retrieves a piece of paper while knocking over a bottle of Advil that definitely wasn't there earlier.

'Not that drunk' my ass. - L

The party hat lays tilted on his head. Logan hooks his finger onto the string, momentarily stopping it from cutting into his chin. On any other occasion, he wouldn't have been caught dead wearing the stupid thing, but it was Laura's birthday and once she pulled out the dangerous puppy eyes, there was no way he could refuse without being an asshole.

He's been leaning against the wall, thumb lightly tracing the rim of the beer bottle in his hand as he blankly stares around the room. Throughout the night, Logan's eyes impulsively shift in your direction, tuning into the conversations you're having with - what feels like - everyone but him.

Mary Puppins zooms by, stepping on his boots in the process. She must've caught a whiff of whatever Al's cooking. He bends down to pick up the stuffed Wolverine chew toy she dropped along the way, mildly concerned by the amount of slobber coating it.

"Nice hat."

Logan hears you chuckle behind him. He quickly turns around, tossing the toy somewhere far, far away before you could notice. And despite wishing all night for the opportunity to talk to you, he finds himself tongue-tied now that you're actually in front of him, awaiting his response with an amused expression. Get it together, dumbass.

"This thing? Well... it made the kid happy." He says, incapable of suppressing the smile that never fails to make an appearance whenever you're around.

The way your features soften releases a storm of arrows to his poor, old heart. Whatever anxiety he felt earlier increases tenfold, Logan takes a swig of his drink only to realise it's empty. With nothing to divert his energy to, he grips the bottle tighter, hoping the integrity of the glass is enough to withstand the force of his nerves.

"Thank you, by the way."

His eyebrows raise in confusion, "For what?"

"Few weeks ago. When I got home totally wasted." As your cheeks turn a little red at the memory, Logan wants to relive that moment over and over again.

"Oh... yeah." He huffs lightly, gaining a smidge of confidence from your flustered state. It gives him just enough courage to throw in a cheeky comment, "At your service."

He's mighty pleased when you giggle, biting his lip to control the proud smile aching to take over. Logan studies you briefly, and if he didn't know any better, you almost seemed nervous too? That possibility sends his mind reeling in excitement. Perhaps you also feel something here?

The shrieking sound of a party blower has him wincing, the plastic hits his cheek as Wade sneaks up right next to him with a wide grin, "Sugar bear! Don't mind me, I overheard you tell Yukio about your date tomorrow. Now, spill. Who is this mystery man and does he have a twin by any chance? Brother or sister - daddy's not picky."

Logan's initial reaction to harshly shove the man aside dies in an instant when you laugh rather bashfully at the question. He prays to god it's another one of Wade's fucking jokes. However, that hope flies out the window as you hesitantly ramble on about this guy. Excusing himself, he leaves the apartment, ripping the party hat off in agony - not witnessing the guilt eclipsing your emotions.

Droplets of sweat linger at the ends of his hair as he places the last of Laura's cardboard boxes on the floor of her new apartment. After weeks of mulling it over, she decided to move a little further away, complaining about how rent was becoming too crazy. Logan offered to support her financially till she was good on her own, yet she strongly refused just as he expected.

Since she was no longer your neighbour, the chances of running into you dwindled over time. He saw you in passing last month when he came over to help Laura with apartment hunting. The logical part of his brain convinced him to not stick around, desperately clinging to the idea that you're not interested. But catching your expression fall as he dismissed your presence nearly made him run back to wrangle you into his arms, to whisper apologies and beg for forgiveness.

After an especially tiring day, Logan returns home, crashing onto the couch with a sort of emptiness as he stares at the ceiling. Both his roommates are muttering in the corner, afraid to call out his incredibly irritable mood of late - instead, walking on eggshells whenever he's around. It seems that Wade loses the hushed argument, settling a good arm's length away from him.

"Peanut." He drags, slowly, "Al and I are... worried about you. As much as this brooding, tough guy act is really doing wonders for my sexual wellbeing, I just can't let you Debbie-Down-Pour all over this parade."

"The fuck you want me to do?"

"You need a one-way ticket to pound town-" He chirps, and when Logan grunts angrily, Wade shrieks, shielding himself from any incoming attacks, "Don't hurt me!"

The aroma of coffee tingles his senses as he takes an exaggerated sip, ignoring the need to continue such an aimless, one-sided conversation. Across the table is one of Vanessa's acquaintances, Karen or Kira - he can't remember - mindlessly explaining why her previous dates didn't work out. Logan forces a nod here and there, humming in pretend acknowledgement while he concocts some plan to seriously bash Wade's head against the nearest wall.

In all honesty, he didn't know how the hell that bastard persuaded him to entertain this woman for the night, making a note to check his alcohol for any suspicious substances later. What he did know was that this was going as terribly as he thought. And while he might be awfully rusty in terms of dating, Logan's certainly not oblivious to basic body language cues. Deciding twenty minutes of this torture is enough, she hastily rushes out the building and that's the last of Karen he ever sees.

The grocery bags feel like cinder blocks in your hands as you walk down the street. Mentally scolding yourself for postponing this chore till the last minute, you huff in exhaustion, adjusting your grip every few seconds. A woman nearly bumps into you on her way out, you stagger backwards, watching her storm off. Startled by her rashness, you turn to glance at where she came from, gasping when you spot a familiar face.

“Logan?”

He snaps up, recognising that particular voice - your name leaves his lips softly. Mixed emotions swirl around his mind, yet, he can't help the way his heart jumps as you fill his senses, “Wha - what’re you doin' here?”

“I was just passing by... saw you through the window.” Your gaze drops to the half-finished cup of coffee opposite him, “Were you on a date?”

“Uh Wade - he...” Logan stutters for a moment, dumbfounded that you're even talking to him after his childish behaviour the last few weeks. He nods lightly as the unmistakable bullet of regret pierces his insides.

“It’s her loss anyway.”

God, he wants to apologise so badly. Your friendly attitude only serves to make him feel worse, but Logan thanks his lucky stars that you don't hate him. He definitely wouldn't have been able to handle any sign of resentment on your part - no matter how much he deserves it.

“What’s with the eggs?”

You laugh, looking down at the several cartons peeking through your bags, “I’m stress-baking.”

He's so lost in your eyes that it takes him a second to register your reply, nose scrunching in amusement, “Stress-baking?”

“Yes, it’s a perfectly valid activity.”

That draws a chuckle out of him. He raises his hands in defense, “I ain’t judgin’, doll.”

A comfortable silence takes over and Logan realises just how happy he is to see you again - how much he's missed you all this time. He opens his mouth to spill something out of pure impulse when you beat him to the punch.

“Why don’t you join me?”

It doesn't take much convincing and he's already fallen into a steady pace as you walk together - his fingers effortlessly hooking onto all the grocery bags. His chest threatens to explode when you lean towards him, moving aside for people brushing by. Logan wills his entire strength to not drape his arm across your shoulders in an effort to keep you safe.

Time becomes irrelevant when you're around. The frequency of his own laughter shocks him at first, but he's not really thrown off by the joy you bring out of him because - well, of course, you do. It's safe to say that Logan can't bake to save his life, though he doesn't mind this particular weakness as you giggle at his dreadful attempts to mix the cookie dough. Shamelessly, he watches you come closer, breaking into a tangent about proper kneading techniques - if you ask him to repeat any of it, he'd be stumbling over his words like a fool.

Eventually, he makes something that somewhat resembles your example. He dips his finger into the dough and lifts a small piece in your direction, "How's this?"

When you gently grasp his hand to lick the sweet mixture straight off, he thinks he's trapped in some wild daydream. Logan stares at you in surprise, cheeks turning into a telltale shade of red. Your hums of approval fall onto deaf ears as he remains frozen, wondering how you're so quick to move on from that bold gesture.

Every little thing you do stains his mind - from the way you dance around to soft music playing in the background, the way you focus all your attention on him whenever he speaks, even the way you warn him about the oven as if he could get burned.

His expression must've turned serious by how you suddenly pause, peering at him in concern. Bearing a rush of emotions, the words pour out of his mouth without hesitation, "I am so sorry."

"I was an idiot and I... avoided you 'cause I couldn't deal with these damn feelings-"

He stops.

He's revealed way too much. And judging by your face, that was definitely a mistake. Logan shuts his mouth, jaw hardening as he fights something heavy crawling up his throat. His eyes land on the door and all he wants is to escape from this shrinking room.

A whisper of his name fractures the glass cage he's built up around his heart. His boots seem to be cemented to the floor, unwilling to break free even as you still in front of him - a mere breath away. Your hands rest against his cheeks, slowly turning his head so he's compelled to meet your tender gaze.

Not a single sound slips out of him before your lips are on his. His heart pounds in his chest, burning at sensation. Logan leans into the kiss, hands settling on your waist, holding you as close as he can. Relief washes over him, he tilts his head slightly to deepen his movements - his breath nearly giving out when you whimper softly.

The loud ding from the oven has you pulling back with a faint chuckle. Logan smiles too, letting out a sigh as he lays his forehead against your shoulder. He presses his lips to your collarbone, whispering against your skin, "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"The cookies... or us?"

He gently pokes your side at that comment, mirroring your dazed look. Between the quiet exchanges of laughter, he knows exactly what this means - what you mean to each other.

His muscles feel looser with each stride, embracing the breeze tangling with the warmth pooling inside from your touch moments ago. Logan makes his way home with a kind of ease he hasn't felt in forever, chewing on a cookie you insisted he taste.

As he walks through the door, Wade rests his chin on his hands, “So… how did it go? I see you’re enjoying the post-bang baked goods.”

Logan rolls his eyes, not wanting his mood to be spoiled. He grumbles under his breath, your name accidentally slipping out.

"You ran into angel-reincarnate?" Wade gasps, "Oh. Finally putting that horse cock to good use." Clapping excitedly, he follows after Logan, "Wait a second, this fic is tagged fluff. There'll be no fucking on my watch, partner!"

Logan slams the door to his bedroom behind him, blocking out Wade's muffled chattering.

"She had you cosplay as Paul Hollywood all night? Goodness! The power she possesses. I must gain all her secrets."

"Fuck off."

Wade grins to himself, quickly pulling his phone out to shoot off a text.

Wade: Project-Wolvie-Gets-Pussy is a go!

Laura: We are NOT calling it that.

[thewatcher98]

What I personally loved was that Jim was the only one listening to Morse and his "no they're not accidents" theory in season 7

There’s not many’d take Morse in. He’d do the same for me. Would he? He’s a prickly bugger at the best of times, just how he is.

[21280]

my first sauna experience, told with katsuki bakugo. warnings for nsfw, afab reader, no pronouns used tho! reader wears a bikini, semi public? (it's a sauna), bit of nipple play, kats likes boobs n booty, hickeys, uses of "babe" and "bitch", fingering, mentions of the pill.

katsuki bakugo despises saunas. he sweats like crazy during his day to day life, so him being trapped in a room that makes him sweat balls isn't ideal. unless, he's trapped inside with you.

what started out as a pool day to cool off led to to borderline suffocation, the vapor and eucalyptus leaves making your body tense up even more as you straddle the blond's lap. his lips clash against yours in a hungry, desperate kiss, as his hands roam over your thighs.

katsuki bakugo is intoxicating. once you kiss him, it suddenly becomes impossible to stop. the way his tongue slips past your lips to wrestle yours so easily, how he bites your bottom lip not too hard for it to bleed, but hard enough to leave a mark, how he always manages to find that sweet spot on your neck as he nibbles his way to your breasts—

katsuki bakugo is a fucking genius. sometimes.

there's a limit to his greatness. because you're katsuki's first everything, and he's fucking clueless. as his hand carefully (and cluelessly) fondles your breast beneath your bikini, you giggle. looking at him, you smile. "you can leave a mark on me, y'know? i don't bite."

he scoffs, "you think i wanna hear shit from my mom during lunch when she sees you?"

"you can leave it somewhere she doesn't see, kats. i'll give you creative liberty, picasso."

katsuki retrives his hand as he starts to think. his looks your body up and down, looking for a spot. neck is a no-go, you never wear turtlenecks. thighs and stomach are off limits too, because half your closet is filled with cropped tshirts and shorts. you knew he had figured something out when his fingers gently pushed aside your bikini, driving his mouth to your breast. he suckles on a spot right above your nipple, as his fingers pinch to his liking.

your body's quick to react, back arching slightly as your hand is placed on katsuki's chest. "careful" you hiss, and he pays no mind. unconsciously, you buck your hips towards him, earning a groan in return. you let your hands roam through his hair, when he pulls away, a smirk is plastered on his face. "kinda looks like a heart. i did a damn good job."

his lips connect with yours once again, and his hands lower towards your ass. it's not unusual for katsuki to do so, but you notice their trajectory is a bit different this time. his fingers brush over the hem of your panties as you shudder, holding back a moan.

"let me see it" he demands, "just once."

and you nod, looking up at the ceiling from pure embarrassment. because it hasn't been too long since you and katsuki have been intimate. it drives you crazy how he's not shameful at all.

he pushes your panties to the side, groaning at the sight. his fingers ghost over your clit, two of them slowly sinking inside you. the sight of you taking his fingers is enough for katsuki to feel his cock twitch with excitement in his swim trunks. and as they begin to thrust, you lean closer to him, mewling his name right in his ear. it’s exhilarating, the thought that anyone could burst through the door is enough for katsuki to speed things up, just the way he likes it.

you curse your boyfriend’s coarse fingers, the sounds that escaped your lips were so raw, so lewd—you thought the security guard would bust you down at any second. and as you gripped desperately on katsuki's shoulders, he hums. it’s mostly during these moments when you see a side to katsuki bakugo the world has never seen.

“fuck—i need your pretty pussy. right now—please—just take me raw.”

katsuki bakugo begs.

your eyes widen at his statement, “katsuki, you do realize i’m not on the pill, right?”

he abruptly retrieves his fingers. “i’ll pull out, i swear—just fucking do it.”

you giggle at your boyfriend’s neediness, “you do realize if something goes wrong, we’ll have little me’s running around in a few months, right? it’s a no for now, kats. we’re still young.”

katsuki sighs, his hands guiding your hips as he aligned your entrance with his clothed cock. “then fucking use me. got that?”

you waste no time rocking your hips, slowly grinding against his bulge. with his hands still on you, katsuki throws his head back as he bucks his hips forward, helping you quicken the pace. “d’you know how good you feel? ‘s like you’re riding me, babe.”

you know katsuki is long gone from pleasure when he pulls out the names. when he’s a moaning mess, hungrily pulling you towards him, you know you have him right where you want him. a few slaps, rough kisses, and hair pulling, and katsuki is at his limit.

“fuck—bitch—i’m done” is what he manages to say before he comes undone, his forehead bumping against yours as he mutters a small ‘i love you.’

as you catch your breath, you plant a quick peck on your boyfriend’s cheek. “you ready for lunch with your parents, kats?”

“you shitting me?” he asks, bewildered. “you’re lucky i’m changing my trunks, cause i got nut all over.”

[spideyjimin]

Wait for your love | jjk (teaser)

—  pairing: firefighter!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: kind of exes to lovers, parents au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  summary: sixteen years ago, your life was turned upside down when you surrendered to the temptation — none other than jungkook, the star basketball player on your school’s team. today, after all that time, you reunite under tragic circumstances; a car crash where he saves your life.

—  words: 577

—  author’s note: here you have the teaser of the fic i’m currently working on 🤗 you have a tiny little teaser below & i hope you’ll enjoy it ❤️

—  tag list: let me know in any way if you want to be tagged when i post this and if you are part of my permanent taglist, you will automatically be added ✨

Jungkook and his team got called for a car accident involving several cars, and when they arrived, the scene was horrific.

There are probably five cars pressed and smashed one against the other. There are people injured and bleeding walking around the scene. Paramedics are already taking care of them, but Jungkook is walking to the cars to retrieve the people stuck inside. His captain screams orders and tells him which car he should go to.

His eyes look around, his heart breaking when he sees everyone involved and still stuck in their cars. Visions like this are quite common for him, it doesn’t happen all the time but it’s still recurrent. At the end of the day, his job is to save people in this type of situation.

When he reaches the car, he was assigned to, he takes a look at how many people there are inside. There’s just one person, a woman behind the steering wheel. She has her hand on her head, clearly showing that she might have a headache. She doesn’t really move. Instantly, Jungkook tries to open the door, but it’s showing a bit of resistance.

It feels impossible to open the door, but Jungkook sees the woman’s head falling. He’s getting worrier; she’s slumping into sleep which isn’t a good sign as she was holding her head barely seconds ago. He then proceeds to break the window so he can try to open it from inside. There are other possible ways, but it would be harder and more dangerous to get her out of the vehicle.

“Ma’am,” he says with urge.

Eventually, he manages to open the damn door from the inside. A good part of the car’s front is crashing into her. Before even thinking of taking her out, he places a cervical collar to protect her neck and spine.

“Ma’am,” he repeats. “Can you hear me?”

She doesn’t answer at all. Jungkook gets closer, his fingers brushing the hair from her face, but when he finally gets to properly see the woman’s face, his heart skips a beat. This woman is none other than you. His mind can’t start to get lost in the past right now. He needs to focus on taking you out of the car.   

You’re in pretty bad shape.

There’s blood on your forehead, you most probably have a wound on top of your head. There’s also blood at the level of your stomach, turning your green shirt into a very dark color. He can distinguish a big fragment of glass shoved into your belly. It doesn’t look good. Your legs are also completely smashed by the front, causing the steering wheel to be very close to your body.  Hopefully, your legs aren’t too injured. He doesn’t even want to start thinking about all the bruises on your body.

Slowly, he places one hand behind your back while his other hand slowly pushes your legs. He’s trying to be as careful as possible to avoid causing any other injury.  His strong arms hold you once he manages to fully remove you from the car. His eyes look down at your face with evident pain. He notices how you’re trying to open your eyes which makes him think that you’re trying to fight the urge to fall asleep.

“Yn,” he says while walking to an ambulance. “Please, stay with me,” he whispers with despair. “I’ve finally found you, and I can’t lose you right away.”

[unluckiestmember]

Mouthwashing X Innocent! Reader

Characters: Anya, Swansea, Daisuke, Curly and Jimmy

Warning: Mention of death, but outside of that, none. SFW.

A/N: Should I open up requests for Mouthwashing? I absolutely love this game so I wouldn't mind doing some headcanons here and there for it!

Anya

When it came to everyone in the Tulpar, Anya tried her best to have a strong bond with her crewmates. You were no exception. She found your presence along the spacecraft to be a breath of fresh air. She is always delighted to see you and super excited to teach you all she knows about medical practices and safety she’s read up on. When you, her and Daisuke are together on game nights, she always knows it’s going to be one of the best nights ever.

Some nights when she stays up, she appreciates your company and will even tap into her motherly instincts by laying your head on her shoulder or lap while she hums a tune to you. You are one of the only people who knew about her “incident” and jumped straight into action against Jimmy. Anya greatly appreciated it but always tries to keep you out of trouble out of fear of you getting hurt. The final days of her life were hard, but at least she can look back and confidently say that you were one of the best people she’s ever met. She hopes you two meet again in another life…

Swansea

Swamsea didn’t like you when he first met you. He thought you were another airhead like Daisuke or some quiet soul like Anya. But after a while, he came to secretly care for you like one of his children back on Earth. You are one of the only people he opens up about his family to, reminiscing on the past and revealing his inner turmoil as a father. He appreciates how you simply listen instead of overlapping him, bearing his heart to you unlike another lovable young member aboard to Tulpar.

If you love shoes, Swansea will find it easier to love you since the both of you bond over shoes of many kinds. If your shoes get ruined during the crash, he won’t hesitate to give you his own shoes so you don’t hurt your feet on loose materials. Swansea reminds you a lot of your own father, so you guess you can call him a dad away from home? He’ll act annoyed, but he secretly loved this title. He always did…

Daisuke

Let’s not lie to ourselves, when Daisuke first laid eyes on you, he wasted no time rushing to your side. In your eyes, you might’ve seen only a fellow co-worker, but for him, he saw a new friend. The both of you ended up being pals way before the Tulpar even set off into space! The members aboard the ship like to label you two as siblings, one being a chaotic brother and the other the sweet gentle sibling. A golden retriever and a puppy to say the least.

When he’s not bothering Swansea or hanging out with Anya, he’s rushing to your side to see if you want to take turns playing Pokemon on his gameboy or if you want to play dress up with his abundance of clothing. Sometimes he’ll open up about his life at home, revealing the troubles he has with his parents and how he doesn’t like to be labeled as the “rich kid on board for fun and games”. It hurts, but it helps knowing that you’re sweet enough to look past that aspect of him. Even with that axe hanging over his head, he could at least close his eyes and drift to sleep knowing that in taking this job, he met his true best friend; You.

Curly

Though the both of you didn’t spend much time together, whenever Curly was around he always tried his best to make sure you were comfortable along the Tulpar. When you two first met, he could tell you were shy and nervous about your space voyage together. So in good spirits, he opened up a dialogue of Pokemon with you, leading to not only you revealing more of yourself to him, but also attracting the rest of the team. Whenever he had cake aboard the ship, he would always sneak his slices over to you and Daisuke since he made sure to note you loved sweets.

After evaluations with Anya and others, he always made sure to treat you in some way for being such a good member of the crew. The time the both of you spent together was short, but also as sweet as commodorative cake and Curly would’ve loved to spend more time with you. Unfortunately, his chance has passed… There were so many times he wished he would have opened up to you and just. Be your friend instead of your captain… Some captain he was, right? If only he knew that even up to the end, you still cared for him…

Jimmy

If you got any requests for Arcane or X-Men '97, send them my way! Screw it, if you have Mouthwashing requests too, then throw them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[colormepurplex2]

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

[snoopcco]

성훈 — cold bf! sunghoon who you wrapped a little cute bow around his biceps because of a tiktok trend. pairings whipped!sunghoon x hyper!reader, very very extremely fluff :p

SCROLLING THROUGH TIKTOK, the girl laid on the soft bed instantly making a starfish position while her phone just inches away from her face. a sad frowning face smacked onto her face when her boyfriend, sunghoon, had to stop paying her attention and focused on his work that was supposedly more important than her. . . for just a minute.

the girl scrolled and scrolled, trying to make time go past faster so she could finally cling onto her busy boyfriend again.

“cuz i love to love to love you…”

she stumbled across a video of a girl wrapping around a ribbon onto her boyfriends bicep, a little cute pink bow holding onto dear life trying to hang on his bulging muscles, it seemed very tight on his muscles like it was about to burst at any moment.

she gasped in the sight of how he did the smallest move, the ribbon SNAPPED. ripped out of his biceps. no effort whatsoever, it seemed like the ribbon just gave out.

then she had an idea ! she turned to hoon, with a cheeky smirk and a mischievous face. before turning back to her pocket,

she checked her pockets for ribbons, being a heavy ribbon fan girl, she always had spare ribbons. she checked the deepest depths of her pockets until her hands reached a long pink ribbon, as she squealed in excitement. sunghoon had heard her and turned around slowly,

seeing that his girlfriend was occupied and busy he smiled at how cute she was by the fact she was giggling all by herself.

“hoonie!” she beamed with a big smile, sunghoon fully turning to her, focusing on her with laser-focus. his attention not leaving her, “give me your arm!” sunghoon raised a brow at the specific request his girlfriend asked, but he didn’t mind. he handed his arm to her in curiosity, waiting for what she would do.

she had retrieved the pink ribbon from her pocket and then she wrapped it around his muscle, she gasped in wow in how she never noticed how much sunghoon had probably worked out. sunghoon watched her attentively while chuckling softly, observing her actions.

she had successfully tied the ribbon onto his biceps, “so cute, babe” her boyfriend wow’ed at how ‘cute’ it was. (def not just looking at his gf and not the ribbon. . .) “ackkkk!! it’s so attractive…. I’m sorry !!!” she squealed at the sight of her boyfriends biceps this time,

his red sleeveless shirt definitely didn’t help how much his muscles were exposed. she was a blushing mess.

“since when did you get so buff…” his gf freely squished on his muscles, still in shock on how his gains were so defined. “I guess I go to the gym too much.” he giggled warmly, his eyes still not leaving the girl.

“I only gained all of these muscles to impress you, babe.” he looked at her with all seriousness, not a single joke or sarcasm in his tone. “waaaah, thank you love ~~~ ” she put her hand onto her face, a little bit stunned.

“now… may I ask why the ribbons, babe?” she had finally remembered the whole purpose of what she was doing, so she could do the trend.

but it all left her mind because she finally got the attention she wanted, “OHHH RIGHT. love it’s a tiktok trend !!!!” she adjusted the ribbon while he nodded, still laughing a bit. “do you wanna film it?—” she was soon cut off by the chatterbox, hoon.

“no… baby… I’m kind of in the mood to just hug youuuu yk? just cuddle to be honest…” sunghoon mildly whined and his gf scoffed at how cute he was but at the same time how he suddenly wanted attention. “okkkk fine come over here.”

she opened her arms welcoming sunghoon into her soft embrace, he soon engulfed into her warmth and felt like he never wanted to let go. “you smell nice, you look so beautiful.” sunghoon muttered softly, feeling sleepy while he was in her arms.

“I don’t know how you could be so pretty and yet be so mine…” she blushed, her cheeks being rosey and pink when she heard his voice in her ear.

her number one question… how did they get from ignoring each other to obsessing over biceps to getting endless cuddles. their mood swings were a different breed.

“thank you for making my biceps just as pretty as you.”

@jwnstars . . .

first thing I’ve wrote on here.. I don’t know how to work tumblr. 🥶🥶🥶 sorri this is short.. just wanted to make something in the meantime 🤧

[bamsara]

Some side characters/cult members for The Rehabilitation of Death. This originally was just supposed to be some light sketches but now they're all fully lined up and colored oops

Info about all of them under the cut:

All followers were designed based off of the actaul follower forms in game. Characters in order:

Bremar 🦊 (He/Him): Boy that often gets peer pressured into doing dangerous or scary things by his friends/bullies. Good heart, not a lot of spine yet.

Finor 🐰 (She/They): Elderly follower.  A devoted follower, but much too in the habit of behaving like an overbearing grandmother to those who aren’t even her kits. Comes from bearing so many in life before losing them to heretics in the wilds. Lambert found her already aged out in the forest after her husband and family were slaughtered, and she has been caring for others ever since her rescue. Stern and not a big fan of PDA, but good heart.

Cow Nurse 🐄 (No Name yet, She/Her): A nurse that works in the healing bay; takes care of the injured and sick while the lamb is gone. Stern and easily frustrated but it comes from a place of concern.

The Shrew and The Otter (No names yet) 🐁🦦 (Both She/Her): Lovers that often leave their work posts to be affectionate with each other in secret (even though everyone already knows). Eventually asks the Lamb to officiate their wedding.

Joon 😺 (Any/They/Them) (Otherwise known as 'the yellow cat' from that one COTL short): The best farmer the cult has, wasn't born until long after the bishop's defeats, and is a part of the generation that is blissfully unaware of Bishops prior tyranny. Bright but a little nervous at times, the Lamb asks them to watch over a certain 'new arrival' as their own hands are full, and Joon becomes the unaware caretaker for a certain God of Chaos.

Paazi 🐸 and her parents🦅🦇: (She/Her for Paazi, Unnamed: Eagle is He/Him, Bat is They/Them): Paazi is a orphan rescue from Anura found as young as a tadpole, later adopted by this older couple. She is the frog that fell from the cliffside and was later saved by Narinder, in which gains him her parent's appreciation.

Grekimar 🐷 (He/Him): A lumber worker who was exiled from his village in Anura, and taken in by the cult as 'all past sins are forgiven here'. Very critical of Narinder's presence, and is one spit away from dissension

Jayen 🐻 (He/Him): One of the two followers Narinder killed during his dramatic arrival to the cult grounds when Jayen was just trying to protect his leader, later resurrected by Narinder and Lambert in Chapter 2. Conflicted about Narinder's presence: grateful to be resurrected (Lamb told Jayen that Narinder helped) but still traumatized from the murder. Feels tingly in his hand and arm often. Sweet but nervous.

Tyren 🐶 (He/Him): One of the stone miners. Rescued from Darkwood. The very 'golden lab retriever' personality makes him one of the more friendlier types; this dog has a big crush on the Lamb that goes past prophet idolization.