#Panda's prompt fills

[rjhpandapaws]

More prompts feel free to pick from

6, 8, 12

Or Charmes 13 XD

Have fun!

//The chaos of all of these though // I've decided to go with 6: "...I'm going to pretend I didn't see that." and make it Charmes.

With his personal lack of door, and tendency not to knock, Zagreus understood that eventually he would stumble onto something he wasn't meant to see. He had always considered it an issue for some nebulous future version of himself, which of course now meant this version of himself apparently. He'd already been spotted so it was too late to back out of the chamber and come in again and pretend he hadn't seen anything. As it was, the anger in Charon's glowing eyes was pinning him where he stood. Hermes was floating more or less stock still and his eyes were about the size of a dinner plate. Zagreus supposed that it wasn't every day that he got caught making out with his "Professional Associate". The deep purple smoke was still slowly leaking from the crease of his lips as it got to the point that he could no longer hold his breath. Zagreus was torn between turning tail and running and laughing to ease the tension. Well ease it on Hermes' end, he got the feeling laughing about this with Charon present might wind up getting him reacquainted with the business end of his oar.

"Under any other circumstances, I would say it wasn't what it looks like," Hermes began, smoke pouring past his lips with each word, "But you caught us in a rather... compromising position Zag, and it is exactly what it looks like in this case." With Hermes making somewhat light of the situation, Charon relaxed, and in turn so did Zagreus. There was less of a chance of him getting clubbed if Hermes wasn't upset about getting caught, or he was assuming so, since Hermes was talking like this was supposed to be a secret. "I think I'm better off pretending I never saw this." He glanced at Charon, "And a little safer. Just, answer something for me first." "Sure." Hermes said before Charon managed his groan of protest. "Is this," He gestured vaguely between the two of them, " Why your blessing shows up so often in the shop?" He doesn't get the chance to hear Hermes' answer because he's too busy dashing out the door in an attempt to dodge the oar that nearly came down on his head with enough force to send him back to the House. Which was an answer enough in and of itself really.

An answer to a question he didn't ask because he hadn't seen anything out of ordinary in Charon's shop. Nothing at all, no out of place winged gods. He had just left because he didn't feel like buying anything.

@queenoftherandomword

(Prompt from this list)

[ikemenomegas]

Gave my love

Portgas D Ace x Reader || Shooting Stars

a/n: Make a Wish prompt fill for panda-anon. I am crying because my first draft spun off into the void of my own technological mishaps, so I hope the second version is satisfactory. I'm sorry it took so long (it took forever for me to do the rewrite these last few weeks have been a bit hectic) I hope that you enjoy it! I apologize if Ace seems at all ooc, it's been a long time since I last took a deep dive into his character. He reads to me as someone who would be kind of a tsundere about romantic feelings but able to be happy if he told himself it was "just friends" so he could pretend to be normal about it. The boy has so many excuses: Butterflies? he's happy to see you, feeling hot? he's made of fire, jealous of your attention? you were his friend first... (also the linked song aged remarkably well, it's fun and noisy and is where the title came from) Thank you so much to my friend who braved an omegaverse fic to edit for me. I hate editing my own stuff and she did such a good job making sure that things weren't too obtuse. cw: omegaverse, alpha!reader, Ace's canon compliant self worth issues

The trouble with narcolepsy isn't the daytime hours. He'd learned to manage those when he was a kid. The trouble comes at night, when his body is visited with the opposite impulse.

Ace rolls over for the nth time. Now, with the same insistence it had put him to sleep, his body pulls him awake.

He follows that pull with heavy, silent steps. He stretches his arms above his head and feels his back pop. He leaves his hat by his bunk, suddenly eager for the sea breeze through his hair.

He hesitates for a moment. Though he no longer gets cold, he considers wrapping something around his shoulders. His pillows and blankets still smell faintly of you. He looks at the bed.

No one is around to accuse him of something so treacherous as longing, but he still jerks his head away and pretends as if he hadn't spent much too long considering such a thing.

When he leaves the covered floors of the ship a bird - he cannot see where it come from - flutters down and nearly clips his head. It's not a seagull. He wonders for a moment, could it be?, but he quickly casts the thought away. Probably not.

A flash of light streaks across the sky, distracting him.

The worn railing is smooth, almost soft, beneath his fingertips when he leans over it. He folds his arms and lays his head in the cradle of his elbow.

He's been dealing with insomnia for the better part of a decade, either waking in the night or not sleeping at all. He'd see Luffy, sprawled out on the floor of the hideout, snot bubbles and not a care in the world. Even though his little brother didn't often notice his midnight absences, even when Ace would show up with prey in the morning, being unnoticed had not left him feeling unwanted.

Knowing someone was waiting staved off the loneliness. Becoming Whitebeard's son had been the best decision of his life. Yet tonight, he has no desire to disturb the sentries or wake a crew member for company.

A glossy black crow lands on the rail within easy reach. It cocks its head at him, warbling low in the back of its throat. Ace narrows his eyes at it, staring until the crow shrinks back, feather ruffling. This was the bird that had almost hit the back of his head, he's sure of it.

It looks almost sheepish at it places a little bag on the rail between them.

When he doesn't pick it up right away, the bird pushes it closer with one delicate claw, bobbing its head.

He picks it up slowly, keeping an eye on the bird. It tilts its head back and forth, clicking in the back of its throat. It takes him a moment to catch it in the dim light: the reflection of your Eye in the black marble of the crow's.

A grin showing teeth makes its way across his face.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi." Sound comes out of the crow's open beak like there is a microphone in its throat, like there's a snail in its belly. It doesn't move in synchrony with the words, but in an unsettling sort of pantomime.

Your voice is made ragged by the crow, but even with one word he knows it is yours. His grin goes lopsided and he weighs the pouch in his hand.

"Fancy seeing you here, pretty bird" he says.

The crow makes a hacking sort of cough he knows to be its version of your scoff coming from its mouth, but the bird rubs its beak against the gleaming wood of the ship, as though to take the sting from the sound.

"I do occasionally have good timing," it says with your voice.

He leans his head on his arms and looks directly at the bird. His gaze cuts through the animal in front of him and to you on the other side. One side of his bangs falls across his eye.

He has some idea of what you do, but not exactly. He knows it's dangerous, for a certain value of dangerous. You go to places he hasn't seen yet.

When he asks you where you are, you tell him about places you've been, never where you recently were. You don't relent even when he pries, whining low in his throat at your typical evasiveness. The crow speaks the rusted over name of some island he's never heard of.

When he asks you how training is going, the bird does some funny little movements that require it to over-correct when it nearly falls off the rail and imitates the sounds of bo staffs colliding.

The sentry peeks down from a higher level. Ace waves them off, feeling suddenly defensive. He wants to keep this moment a secret.

The bird freezes, looking up from where it's hunched over in an all too human kind of expression that reminds him of the last time you were a guest of the Whitebeard pirates and you'd raided the kitchens with him, sneaking around with unnecessary stealth, pressing back as if to hide him from every passing shadow until he was giggling into your shoulder, you scents mingling as you sweated under the hot atmosphere of a nearby volcanic island.

He snickers as the bird shakes its feathers flat again, giving an experimental little croak and finally straightening up when the noise doesn't immediately bring the sentry back running, looking out for his crewmate. The bird bumps his hand, as if to draw attention to it, and Ace draws his fingers through the soft, smooth feathers.

When you creakily ask him about his own recent adventures, you offer tidbits from the news to get him started, and it warms him in a very strange way to think you've been keeping an eye on him.

Eventually, the late night catches up and a comfortable quiet settles around the two of you.

Ace listens to the crow's low gargly kkqrk as it moves on its perch. He smirks to himself at the sight of the shining black bird shifting against the star scattered, velvet night.

"Are you going to open it?" you, finally ask. The bird pecks emphatically at the rail by the velvety bag.

All of the bird's expressive hopping and pecking for excited emphasis is so very un-human. It amuses him to imagine you puppetting the creature, instructing it to dip and flap for his benefit, even though he knows it is more akin to the bird itself interpreting your emotions.

Even so when the bird, looks at him, he can almost see the pleading look only you can pull off. Truly and delightfully uncanny.

He sighs as if it is all a chore, bobbing the pouch up and down on the string wound around his fingers. The crow follows with the movement with its beak and then its whole body.

"Should I?" he muses. "Suppose I save it-"

The bird all but stamps its little grey scaled foot in expressing your impatience and he laughs at you, at the odd humanity of the motion, as he finally does open the bag, drawstrings tangled in his fingers.

The contents of the pouch glitters, even in the starlight.

"How nice," he says, opening the mouth of the bag wide to reveal an array of crystals inside. "A good bit of shine."

All pirates of course liked things that gleamed. As did crows. The bird tilts its head between his face and the bits of rock in his hand.

He shifts them around in the bag. There are many colors.

"You should try one," it - you - says, shifting its weight. The bird stayed almost perfectly still, head tilted as it took in his incredulous expression.

"I am not dumb enough to eat rocks."

"I know."

The bird, peers up at him, blankly expectant.

Ace looks back in the bag and eventually plucks one of the crystals out. It's orange bleeding into purple like a storm ridden twilight and edged like the inside of a geode.

He glances once more at the bird, at you, but the creature just shuffles its wings to sit more primly against its body. Ace has never been very good at backing down from a dare.

Still he bites down very very carefully.

The crystal cracks apart under his teeth and spills sweetness on his tongue - plum and passion fruit, tart and bright and dark again, like the last touch of a setting sun. The outside is hard and cool like stone, but falls away to jelly by the time his bite sinks to the center.

He cannot help the way his eyes go slightly wide.

"Where are these from?" he asks.

"I made them," your voice slips from the bird's parted beak, almost shy. "The King of Kettles taught me," you add fondly.

He nibbles on more of the crystal, candy he now knows. Rock candy, he thinks as he grins to himself. He's not sure when the last time someone brought him candy of all things. Sugar is expensive no matter its source, and sometimes hard to find among the islands. Even syrups made from fruit would take a long time to make.

"Make sure to brush your teeth!" The crow interrupts his thoughts with a trumpeting, too loud, cackling sort of caw.

He stuffs a corner of the crystal into the crow's beak, interrupting the sound with a choking, fluttering, sputtering.

One thing about birds is that regardless of interpretation, they are sometimes not very good at managing their volume.

The crow hunches over, sending Ace as dirty a look as it can manage. You consider having it play dead, just to get back at him, but the shuffling attention of the sentries has you, the crow, freezing in his shadow.

You are reminded, somewhat guiltily, that your welcome on Whitebeard's territory does not give you unrestricted access, even for stolen moments like this.

But again, Ace waves off the inquisitive sentries, and they go, because he is the commander of the second division.

Ace can tell that they're curious, but this is for him, for now. In the morning if they or anyone asks, he will tell and laugh and tease. And it will be real.

This is real too. He feels protective of this moment, even if it is only a crow with your Eye as a glossy, curved reflection. It's his little secret.

It's not in his nature to keep secrets. Not for long. But for a while, he wants to keep this one. Not out of shame, not like the other, but because this one is warm like a glowing coal.

It is his, to follow the direction of a falling star and have a bird deliver him a gift and a conversation. You can't tell him where you are or where you're going, but you have frequent, funny little names that are familiar enough that you can tell him stories and he knows of whom you speak. The King of Kettles, Catfish, the Forlorn Maiden - all of them people he has never and likely will never meet.

Do you have a secret name for him, do you tell people about him? Something meant to safeguard him from the world?

Will there ever be a time when he isn't the secret? When that secret doesn't drag a darkness along behind it to cover those who know?

Another flash of light goes across the sky - blink and you'll miss it.

He sees it, you don't, going in the same direction as before. It flies away into the night.

Slowly, through the odd technicolor vision of the crow, you see a closed off, thoughtful expression take the place of the easy smile from before.

"What are you thinking of?"

The crow's hissed approximation of a whisper should be unsettling but it isn't.

Ace leans his arm on the railing and looks over at you, at the crow. The corner of his mouth lifts up, but he can't put enough of his heart into it to cover the melancholy.

He finds himself wishing for your scent. Sending a bird is one thing, but if he had not seen the Eye, he wouldn't have even been able to tell you it was you there, and not some well trained pet.

"I wish you were here," he sighs, reaching out to run a finger over the bird's smooth head feathers.

The bird ruffles its wings and says nothing. There is a long moment of nothing, long enough that Ace thinks of going back to bed. Sleep is finally reaching for him, he can feel the chill of it on his skin.

It's through the quiet of the dark that it finds him, a dull sound, almost at the edge of hearing.

He reaches out with his awareness, scanning the sea for any creature stupid enough to attack one of Whitebeard's fleet. A Sea King would be a bit of bedtime fun. Or it might be the distant sound of canons, although intuition tells him that isn't it.

The sound gets closer. It is not canons or the writhing movements of a deep water monster. It is more like someone shaking out sheets, but as regular as a sleeper's heart - the flap of wings.

He sees a shape, black on black, in the distance. It vanishes between one blink and the other, melting into the night. Another shimmer of light falls overhead while the wingbeats suddenly disappear.

Ace remembers owls and the way they hunt, swooping silently down upon their prey. He looks up to see if the watch is at all disturbed, and then to his left. The crow is gone.

The wingbeats return, now soft and so close. Right below him. He looks over the rail and a familiar face rises up to meet him.

This crow upon which you sit is longer than him if he were to lay down, feet and fingers pointed as far as they would go. It drifts upon the shallow eddy stirred up by the ship, drifting alongside.

"Hello," you say. You're smiling. Teasing snatches of scent get caught in the sea breeze.

From behind, the crow that had been your mouthpiece swoops down upon your shoulder.

"Willful thing," you say to it.

It croaks, head bobbing cheekily.

"Hi," he says. His heart feels like it's soaring, light alongside you, every whoosh of blood a wingbeat.

"I heard you," you say, nudging the crow's chest with your finger.

"You do occasionally have good timing," he says, grinning wide.

The enormous bird flaps a few times, slowly, up to the level of the rail.

He catches you when you slide over the side of the ship and step onto the deck. He never feels the flames when they come from him, but your palm sliding over his makes him feel like he's burning.

"I think I'm going to be in trouble with your Father," you say, shrugging a shoulder, "for the bird."

It croaks again, and then caws, as if to prove a point. The both of you wince.

"I'll tell him you came for me," Ace replies. He doesn't bother to keep quiet now, but that's alright. The bag of sweets you brought him dangles around his wrist like a charm.

You're a little breathless when you look at him. He can see stars reflected in your eyes.

"Whenever you want me."

[firefly-party]

Damnit Kei

I want all of them….. How about Sailor Moon Eskel … watch me become predictable but 18. pinning to the wall….. 🥺😍

PANDA MY LOVE!!!!!!! 🥰💖 Here you go with Jaskel and pinning to the wall!!! you saw the process so....no surprise here XD but pls know, i really really had soooooo much fun doing this one!!!! 🥺 Thank you so much for the prompt and your patience! ILYSM!

And here's a Bonus under the cut!

------- ⬇⬇⬇⬇⬇⬇⬇⬇⬇⬇⬇ ------

[confusedpandabear]

Will you ever write for Cloti? 👉👈

Ahhh you see I'd love to but I never have any ideas for them! Plus there's plenty of amazing fanfiction for them already, so we're already well fed ❤️

[anianurst]

The Sun and The Moon

Summary: Yuji’s return to the jujutsu world prompts you to say some words that you’ve been holding back

A/n: takes place in season one (ep 14), reader has a shy personality and is kinda based on an OC that I have but feel free to change some things to suit your tastes, hints to unrequited feelings on Megumi's part so some angst

Warning(s): mentions of death, unrequited feelings

"You know this could be considered a form of bullying?" Yuji whimpers, and you can't help the smile that forms on your face. Yuji always had a way of trying to be funny, which you appreciated. Nobara rolls her eyes and turns away from the pink-haired boy.

"Shut up and stay that way for a while."

Panda and Toge are quick to reason with the stubborn girl. Walking over to Yuji, you nod in agreement. "Gojo-sensei is the one that made Itadori-kun keep his revival secret. We shouldn't hold it against him," you add, gently taking the picture frame out of Yuji's hands and offering him a small smile. The boy grins back at you as his hands intertwine and comical tears fall from his eyes.

"(l/n)! You're an angel!" A red hue spreads on your cheeks, and you quickly turn away from the boy and return to your spot next to Megumi. Your eyes briefly meet his, and a buzz spreads in your heart. Megumi's always found it easy to read you (and you, him), so he tells the others to let you get some fresh air after discussing their plan for the exchange event. Silently nodding at him, you quickly leave to escape from the other student's question gazes, especially Yuji's.

Jujutsu Tech has always been beautiful. The landscape and quiet air have felt like home ever since your father brought you to the school as a toddler. Looking out at the swaying trees and tall grass, you sigh. You love the quietness and tranquility of the grounds, but at the same time, it fills you with unease.

Life as a sorcerer isn't meant to be calm and still. Kento's always been straightforward, reminding you of the grim reality of your lives. How quickly and abruptly it can. Either your's or your comrade's.

Maybe that's why Yuji's death at the detention center had impacted you more than it should have. Before, it was just you and Megumi, a stable and familiar life you've known ever since Satoru introduced Megumi into your life. It's a life you wouldn't trade anything for, but at the same time, it was always the same thing every day. When Yuji joined, it was like a bright ray from the sun had been cast upon your life. His cheery attitude and kind smiles were rare in the jujutsu world. Even though he knew that his death was inevitable and his future was grim, he still smiled so brightly.

Tears roll down your cheeks, and you curse quietly as you wipe them away. Even after wiping the fallen ones, new ones continue to fall, and you jump when you hear a worried voice call out to you.

"You okay, (l/n)?" Yuji asks, his eyebrows furrowed and a frown on his lips. He quietly moves to sit next to you, and you furiously nod while looking down at the ground. You didn't want Yuji to see you like this, like some crybaby. "Is...is this about me?" he whispers, and in a hope to spare him from guilt, you don't respond. "I wanted to tell you, ya know. More than anyone. I didn't like thinking that I was the reason you were sad."

You laugh shakily and lift your gaze to meet Yuji's. Despite your watery eyes, you smile at him. "When you died, it just reinforced something that I always knew."

"Huh?"

"In this life, as jujutsu sorcerers, good people always die." Yuji frowns even more at your grim words. "But, when I saw your body on the ground at the detention center," a shaky breath escapes your lips as your heart beats widely in your chest, "It was like the sun stopped shining."

Yuji's eyes widened at your words, and his lips parted in confusion. The sun? Him? "When we first met, you smiled so brightly. You were shining like the sun that comes after cloudy mornings." You can feel your cheeks burning and go back to starting at the ground ahead of you. A short silence passes, and a pit forms in your belly. Oh no, maybe you should've just kept your mouth shut. What if Yuji is creeped out? What if he thinks you're a total freak and tells everyone else but the stuff you said? What if he stops being frien-

"If I'm the sun, then you're the moon."

Huh?

"The moon always shines in the dark night and always calms everyone down like you do." Your eyes widen, and this time it's you who looks confused. Yuji chuckles at your face and delicately tucks a strand behind your hair before smiling his oh-so-bright-and-radiant smile. "When night comes, everyone looks up at the pretty moon."

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you giggle and smile at the boy beside you, the one you fell for at first sight. And it looks like that boy may have also fallen for you. Two lovers who always gravitate around one another and share a cosmic connection that transcends all.

Extra:

"Go talk to her," Megumi says, and Yuji raises a brow. 'Megumi's a confusing guy', Yuji thinks.

"But you just said that (l/n) needs some air and I don't wanna bother her." The stoic boy rolls his eyes and lifts Yuji from the floor by his hood. A different kind of frown pulls at his lips.

"Just go talk to her, moron." Yuji raises his hands in surrender and fixes his hood as he exits the room. Megumi excuses himself shortly after and stands in the hall alone.

His heart clunches pitifully as his hands tighten into fists. Why had you fallen for Yuji? Why not him? 'No', he thinks. He already knows the answer, which pains him even more.

If you were like the moon, then Megumi was like the stars, the first to see your beautiful glow and always wishing that you would notice him.

[blackbat05]

Confessions of a Roommate

Jason Todd x Reader (University AU)

Plot: Jason comes back to you shared dorm injured leading to confessions from the both of you.

Genre: PG-13 (Fluff with description of injuries)

A/N: Wrote this in one shot after being inspired by a post about cliche prompts? Honestly can never go wrong. Also time passes so fast that it’s so surreal? Graduating soon so wanted to do another university AU? Reblogs and comments appreciated!💓

(Also was looking for a gif and this is perfect for what I wrote?)

***

You lost count at how many times you had to blink at the screen. The words on your laptop were starting to merge together. Groaning, you saved the progress of your work before making yourself some tea.

As much as you wanted, you couldn’t go to sleep yet. The last hurdle before your graduation, you dissertation was giving you more problems then you anticipated. Also, there was another reason that you were burning midnight oil.

You whip out your phone, scrolling through your favorites before hitting on Barbara’s number. True to her name, she picked it up on the first ring.

“Hey Babs, I was wondering if you heard from Jason? He’s supposed to be back by now but I can’t reach him.”

“That’s strange, he left the library half an hour ago.” There’s a moment of silence between the two of you and Barbara quickly fills it. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’ll get Dick to check in on him.”

You thank Barbara, hanging up the phone. Jason was more than capable of handling himself, but the two of you had a roommate code - to always check in with each other whenever either of you had schedules late into the night. It was not like him to break the code.

Pacing up and down in your room, you decide to look for him yourself. As you were about to grab your keys and jacket, you hear the rattling of the doorknob that could only mean one thing. Quickly sending a text to Barbara that the search wouldn’t be necessary, you go to the door.

“Jason!” You momentarily froze at the sight of his bruised face. “What happened? Are you okay? Who did this to you?”

The barrage of questions made your best friend chuckle. “I’m alright. You should see the other guys.” He throws his belongings to the side, not caring where it landed. Jason makes a beeline for the couch, his large frame sprawled on the brown leather.

“Guys. As in not one.” You deadpanned, staring at him for answers. Jason gives a nonchalant wave, expertly dodging the hidden meaning behind your question. “Hey, could you get me an ice pack? I don’t wanna turn up to Mrs Rogers class like a panda. Not when I’m her favorite student.”

“Rub it in literature prince.” You rolled your eyes. Making your way to the kitchen, you extract the medical kit that you bought ever since you first met Jason. “Sit up will ya? Let me see how bad it is.”

He quietly follows your instructions, hissing every now and then when the tip of the cotton bud brushed over fresh wounds. You’re fixated on treating his injuries that you don’t realize how close you are. But Jason does. And he can’t help to admire your beauty.

He gazes at the way your eyes reflect how deeply focused you are. He notices how your nose crinkles when you apply the cream on his face and how your lips are slightly parted as you made sure you didn’t miss any injuries.

“There, all done.” You closed the lid in satisfaction. “Now, can you tell me how you ended up looking like our campus bus ran over you?”

Jason sees the look of concern on your face and decides against lying to you. No use hiding it. Maybe it was time to tell you everything that he had been desperately trying to keep a lid on. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself.

“Before you question me, yes I was studying with Gordon and Grayson.” He sees that you haven’t said anything and takes it as his signal to continue. “I left on time and I was just about to text you that I was on my way back.” Jason pauses, the mere thought of it making him see red.

“You know Chris Anderson?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “And his bunch of cronies from the football team. Why?”

“I met them on the way. Anderson thought it was a good idea to talk crap about you in front of me. And no, I’m not going to tell you what they said to me or I might just end up killing one of them.” Jason balls his fists. Although the blood was cleaned up, you could still see traces of bruising.

Taking his hand onto your lap, you hold it gently, rubbing your fingers over his palm. The repetitive action seemed to have calmed Jason down and he exhales loudly. You give him a reassuring smile.

“Thank you Jason. You always do so much for me.” You frown slightly thinking of the fact that this wasn’t the first time Jason had gotten himself into an altercation. “But please be careful. I don’t want you getting into any unnecessary trouble because of me. Those guys are just dickheads.”

He raises an eyebrow at your choice of words, causing you to shrug. “I mean what I said Jason. I know you can take care of yourself but what if one of them takes it too far. You know how they’re like. I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt.”

As the words fall out of your mouth, you realized what you had just said. Embarrassed, you removed your hands from his grasp, abruptly standing up. “Just… don’t do it again ok? I was seriously worried.” You attempt to make your way to return the medical kit only for Jason to hold you at the wrist.

Looking down at his hunched figure, you struggle to decipher his expression. Until he let’s out a huff of relief. Before you know it, Jason brings you to him, enveloping you in a big hug.

“This is so crazy.” He laughs. “We’ve been friends, roommates for half our lives and you had bigger balls than I had.”

You pause at his words, gently prying yourself from his hold to look at his gleeful smile. “Wait… are you saying?”

“Yes, I like you. I’m sorry it took several fights and a busted lip to tell you how I felt but I am in love with you.”

Breaking out of your stupor, you wrapped your arms around Jason. Enamored with his pine scented perfume, you buried your face into his chest, hoping that Jason didn’t see the growing blush on your face.

“I love you too you idiot.”

Jason only hugs you tighter, not wanting to let go. He does see your flushed face from the mirror, but perhaps Jason will leave the teasing for another day.

After all, he had all the time in the world.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 26 - Transfiguration

@jegulus-microfic March 26 Word count 1000

Previous part First part

“Sirius, I told you not to try and put your own eyeliner on without me,” Remus told him between fits of laughter. 

“You look like a sad panda!” Regulus was almost useless at this point. His laughter shook his entire frame, and he was struggling to breathe. 

“Oi, sod off then!” Sirius sulked. 

“Sirius, wait!” Regulus called, getting his laughter under control. “Is James there?”

“Yeah. Hang on a sec, and I’ll get him. JAMES!!!” He bellowed, not even bothering to move away from the mirror. 

“What’s up, Padfoot? You alright?” Huge guffaws burst from James’s mouth once he caught sight of Sirius’s botched makeup attempt. 

“Oh, bugger off, Prongs!” Sirius stormed off. He dropped the mirror on the bed so Regulus and Remus got a lovely view of the ceiling. James grabbed it up, and his face filled the glass. 

“Hi, love, you alright? Hi Remus.” He waved. 

“Hi,” Remus waved back. Regulus nodded. 

“Is Sirius coming back?” He asked. 

“Sirius, you coming back or not?” James called just as loudly as Sirius had. They could hear Sirius shuffling back into the room, and he appeared next to James, now free from his makeup. 

“I found it,” Regulus smirked. “Took it right out from under Lucius’s nose.” The three of them gawped at him in disbelief. 

“Where was it?” Sirius asked. 

“In his library on the centre bookcase.”

“Are you kidding?! Godric, he’s an idiot.” Sirius snorted. 

“Will he notice it’s gone?” Remus asked seriously. 

“I don’t think so. He caught me near it, but I pretended to be really drunk, and he got me out of there, probably scared of his first editions. I used a transfiguration spell of a—on something else there and imbued it with a small amount of dark magic at the same time. I doubt Lucius will be able to tell the difference.”

“Are we meeting at Rosier House tonight, then?” James wanted to know. 

“No. Both of my parents are here, and it’s late. If we go out now, it will be suspicious. Mother has meetings or something most of the day tomorrow. So we’ll meet, say, around 9? As long as the coast is clear.”

They made their goodnights, and all went to bed. 

Walburga left early the next morning, and so did the boys. 

They were surprised to see James, Sirius and Lily already there, waiting for them in the house. 

“You’re here early,” Regulus said as he accepted a kiss from James. James shrugged. 

“Sirius and I are. That one stayed the night,” He jabbed his thumb at Lily and was hit with a tickling hex. “Worth it,” He gasped. 

“Come on then. Spill the beans. Why have you gathered the Thestrals at this ungodly hour?” Evan questioned, stopping Lily and James from going any further. Regulus pulled the diary from his pocket and held it up. 

“I found it.” He told them. And when he explained where he found it, Barty chirped in. 

“What is with these guys and being such—” Pandora waltzed over and stuffed a cauldron cake in Barty’s mouth as they all knew what had been about to come out of his mouth. He stuck his fingers up but mostly quietly ate his treat.

“So now all we need to do is destroy them?” Lily asked Regulus. He nodded. “Great, I’ll go get the venom.”

“Wait,” He stopped her. “I think we need to take them somewhere to do it. In case something happens when we try and destroy them.” 

They sat for a while, thinking of places to go. 

“Random field?” Evan suggested. 

“If we could properly ward it. But then, if the field is destroyed, how would we cover it up?” Regulus rebutted. They kept coming up against the same problem. If the Horcruxes destroyed the area, how would they hide it? 

“What about the forbidden forest?” Remus wondered aloud. “As long as we stay clear of the centaur heard and the acromantula. We should be left alone, and if we destroy a bit of the forest, it’s huge and will regrow itself over what was lost.” Sirius and James both nodded, thinking it was a great idea. 

“What do you mean acromantula? Are there actually acromantula in the forest?” Barty and the others had gone slightly paler than usual at the thought of the murderous arachnids. 

“We know where they are. As long as we don’t go near the nest, we’ll be fine.” Sirius waved off their fears. “We’ve been in there loads of times and never had a problem.”

“Right, it’s settled then. We meet tomorrow in the forbidden forest.” He looked to James. “Where should we actually meet?”

“Wait in the trees behind Hagrid’s cabin. That’s probably going to be the easiest place to gather, especially if we arrive at different times.” He looked around the room at the seven other people. “I can do this on my own, you know. You can all stay here, and I’ll go on my own.”

“What, and let you take all the glory, fuck off,” Barty smirked. 

“Can’t do tomorrow, Reggie,” Sirius spoke up. 

“Why not?” Sirius had nothing else to do. He’d been complaining for days that Moody wouldn’t give him an assignment. 

“It’s Jamie’s birthday, and we have a date with Monty and Effie.” Regulus spun to look at James, horrified. 

“I forgot your birthday.” 

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve had a lot on your mind.” James consoled him. 

“You guys free in the evening?” Evan asked. 

“Yeah. Should be. We’re just having lunch with my parents.” James answered. 

“Good. That means you can come to you’re birthday party here.” Pandora beamed at him. She grabbed Lily’s hand. “Come on, dear, let’s go catch some fairies for the lights.” And she skipped out of the room, towing Lily behind her. 

“That okay, delaying a day?” James asked Regulus.

“Of course, we’ll go to the forest after.” James beamed at him and scooped him up to plant a kiss on his lips.   

Next part

[choicesmonthlychallenge]

Choices March Challenge 2024

I asked and you answered. It seems like flowers and spring are prompts you are interested in for the March Challenge!

I hope you enjoy the prompts I chose. There is a mix of flowers, spring related words, March holidays, dialogue prompts, and visual floral prompts. I also posted some floral dividers that you're welcome to use.

Have Fun + Happy Creating!

Prompts + Guidelines below the cut!

Flowers (these are some possibilities, but all flowers are accepted)

Bleeding Heart Flower

Carnation

Chrysanthemum

Coneflower

Corpse Flower

Daffodil

Daisy

Gladiolus

Hydrangea

Iris

Jade Vine

Lavender

Lilac

Lily

Marigold

Moonflower

Nightshade

Orchid

Pansy

Peony

Poppy

Rose

Snapdragon

Sunflower

Tulip

Wildflowers

Spring

Awakening

Baby animals

Butterflies

Clear skies

Daylight saving

Fresh air

Growth

New Life

Outdoor activities + sports

Picnics

Rain boots

Rainy days

Renewal

Spring cleaning

Sunny weather

Warm temperatures

Longer days

Umbrella

March Holidays (these are some possibilities, but all March Holidays are accepted)

March 01: National Peanut Butter Lover's Day

March 08: International Women's Day

March 09: National Barbie Day + Get over it Day

March 11: National Napping Day

March 15: The Ides of March

March 16: National Panda Day

March 17: St. Patrick's Day

March 18: Awkward Moments Day

March19: First day of spring

March 23: National Puppy Day

March 30: National Take a Walk in the Park Day + Doctors' Day

March 31: Easter

Dialogue Prompts

"The flowers in the park seem to have a secret language, don't they?"

"Why does every spring bring back memories of that garden?"

"I can't believe you kept that secret from me all these years."

"Why do you always have to be so stubborn?"

"I never thought I'd see you again."

"Do you believe in second chances?"

"I thought we were in this together."

"You're not the person I thought you were."

"Sometimes silence speaks louder than words."

"Is it too late to start over?"

"I don't know who I am anymore."

"We're running out of time."

"Why are you really here?"

"Your laughter is my favorite melody."

"If our love story were a book, every page would be filled with the softest words and the sweetest kisses. What chapter are we on now?"

“Will you please shut up”

 “Of all the things i love about you, this is my favorite.”

Visual Prompts:

If one of these inspire a creative work from you feel free to use it. You can list the prompt topic + # (ie: Rainbow 3)

Guidelines + Rules

Submitted works will be featured on a weekly masterlist

Every form of creative work can be submitted: fanfiction, drabbles, moodboards, edits, drawings, poems, songs, sketches, and more—all are welcomed.

Work from any book and story from the Choices (and Pixelberry) universe are welcome (new and old alike)!

You can participate as many times as you want during the month

Clearly list the prompt your used

You can combine submissions for this event and others

Please add a cut to avoid long posts and exposing other fans to triggering/disturbing content.

If your work is NS*W please label it as such and use appropriate warnings. Adult content should be hidden under the page break.

You can get creative with the prompts. It can be a variation of the word and/or concept. It doesn’t have to be exact or literal. If the word inspires a train of thought that led you to something different, put that in the notes and send it in! Have fun with it! Make them work for you! The ultimate goal is just to find joy in creating!

Please tag @choicesmonthlychallenge​​ and if you’d like to add me you can do so as well~ @lovealexhunt​​​ (feel free to DM me your work too since Tumblr tags are fickle)

Please do not submit work that has been created with AI. Works that contain AI will not be reblogged. If reblogged inadvertently and I find out they have AI, they will be deleted.

Late entries will be accepted through April 5

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | fifteen

🐴Chapter summary: A bushfire threatens to turn your home to ashes— will the fire consume everything in its wake? Can you manage to get out before it’s too late?

🐴Chapter title: Did I Tell You?

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: angst (is this really a surprise at this point?), fire, almost dying (but no one dies!), a secret that finally gets the light of day, revelations, smut in the form of unprotected semi public sex (indoors in a stable); neck biting and kissing, handjob, clit play, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, marking, hair pulling, pussy rubbing, praise kink, slight exhibitionism (Jimin just doesn’t care, lol).

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 13.7k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267, *tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Did I Tell You?” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: okay, I promise this is the last of the horrible angst— there’s still a tiny bit of drama left, but it’s not really angsty, just drama lol 😆

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜* *for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue💜

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

“You burn like fire Burn like ice Your heart tears, your heart tears You be strong and hold it in But your heart still cares” - ‘Never Enough’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Your eyes gradually flutter open, and a sense of unease settles over you, the heaviness of your head serving as a stark reminder that it’s the dead of night. Yet, something feels off—there’s an eerie whooshing sound permeating the air, accompanied by an unexplained warmth that seems to linger oppressively. Each breath you draw feels laborious, as if the atmosphere itself has thickened, suffocating and dense, leaving you struggling to fill your lungs with the heavy, stifling air.

As you groggily open your eyes, a sense of disorientation washes over you, prompting you to sit up on the bed and plant your feet firmly on the familiar, yet unexpectedly warm, wooden floor. Confusion gnaws at your mind—why is the floor emitting heat, a sensation so out of place in the chill of the night?

The eerie creaking noises echoing through the darkness send a shiver down your spine, an unsettling sensation creeping over you like a shadow in the night. With each step, the unexpected warmth of the wooden floor sears against the soles of your bare feet, intensifying the sense of unease that coils within you.

You approach the door, your hand instinctively reaches for the handle, only to recoil at the unexpected warmth that radiates from its surface. Ignoring the discomfort, you grip the handle once more, determined to open the door, but it stubbornly refuses to yield. Panic mounting, you hasten to the window, drawing back the curtains, and are met with a terrifying sight: flames, fierce and unrelenting, dancing in the distance beside the house. Your heart lurches into a frantic rhythm, adrenaline flooding your veins as you rush towards the wall shared with your sister, desperate to ensure her safety.

“Jess!” Your voice echoes with frantic urgency, reverberating through the walls as you pound on them with growing desperation. “There’s a fire!” Each word is punctuated by the thunderous pounding of your heart, the gravity of the situation propelling you into action.

Your heart sinks as the silence from the other side of the wall persists, your pounding growing more frantic with each passing second. With a growing sense of dread, you turn back to the door, only to find the handle searing to the touch, its heat now unbearable. It’s in that moment of realization, as the reality of the situation sets in, that the horrifying truth dawns upon you— the fire is inside the house. 

As panic grips you tightly, you frantically scan the room, your senses heightened by the thickening, suffocating air. Each breath feels like a struggle, the oppressive weight of the atmosphere pressing down on your chest.

Amidst the chaos, a melody of distant voices pierces through the haze of panic, drawing your attention to the window. With trembling hands, you fling it open, revealing the familiar faces of Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin standing outside below. Tears blur your vision as relief floods your senses, grateful beyond measure to see them safe and unharmed amidst the chaos that surrounds you.

“Guys!” Your voice echoes with desperation as you lean out the window, your heart pounding in your chest. “There’s a fire and Jessi isn't responding. I’m scared,” you cry out to them, tears streaming down your cheeks in a torrent of fear and helplessness. The urge to escape and just crawls out the window grips you fiercely, but the height of your window serves as a cruel reminder of the perilous predicament you find yourself in.

“Yeah, we can’t get into the house, the fire’s too intense,” Soo-ah’s voice quivers with despair, her anguished expression striking you to the core. A chill runs down your spine as the weight of her words sinks in, dashing any hopes you had of imminent rescue.

“We’ve already called the fire station, they’re on their way!” Ha-rin’s voice cuts through the chaos with palpable frustration, her words offering a glimmer of hope amidst the despair.

“You need to find something to cover your mouth with and close the window tight. We’ll figure out a way to reach you and Jess,” Ara’s voice quivers with urgency, tears streaking down her cheeks as she pleads with you, her desperation mirroring your own.

“Why should I close the window? I can barely breathe in here,” you gasp, your words punctuated by labored breaths as you cling to the fleeting sensation of fresh air flooding in.

“I know it seems counterintuitive, but keeping the window open will only feed the fire more oxygen, making it worse. You have to close it and find a way out, and we’ll do everything we can to reach you,” Ara insists, her brow furrowed with worry as she implores you to heed her advice.

You gulp down your rising panic and shut the window, the gravity of the situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. Rummaging through your dresser, you snatch up a scarf to cover your mouth, desperate for even a shred of relief from the stifling air. Returning to the door, you try everything—pushing, kicking, pleading—but it remains stubbornly sealed shut, mocking your futile efforts. Exhaustion creeps in like a heavy fog, clouding your thoughts as the acrid stench of smoke fills your lungs, each breath a struggle against the oppressive atmosphere. The distant roar of flames outside serves as a grim reminder of the encroaching danger, fueling your mounting dread. Has the fire reached your floor? Is that why the air feels so unbearably hot and thick? Panic grips you tighter, uncertainty gnawing at your resolve as you brace yourself for the worst.

Desperation claws at your insides, urging you to reach your sister’s side, yet with each passing moment, your body feels as if it’s succumbing to an invisible weight, dragging you down with relentless force. Defeated, you shuffle back to your bed, the searing heat of the floorboards scorching your bare feet with every agonizing step.

The weight of exhaustion presses down on you like a leaden blanket, dragging you tiredly towards the comforting embrace of your bed. As you sink into its welcoming embrace, your gaze drifts upwards, the once-clear ceiling now obscured by billowing clouds of smoke, a grim testament to the encroaching danger. Frustration and helplessness surge within you, a primal scream of defiance rising in your throat at the merciless grip of the bushfire wreaking havoc on your home.

Tears cascade down your cheeks, mingling with the sweat and soot that stains your skin, as you feel the tendrils of consciousness slipping away, consumed by the suffocating grip of smoke and heat. Gasping for air, each breath a desperate struggle, you’re overcome by a sense of utter helplessness. In the suffocating darkness, a chilling realization dawns upon you—this may be the end, this is how you die.

As darkness encroaches upon your consciousness, a kaleidoscope of memories floods your mind like a relentless tide. Childhood days spent playing with your sister, laughter echoing through the air; stolen moments with Jimin, each glance a silent confession of your affection. Regrets and what-ifs swirl together in a maelstrom of emotion, a poignant reminder of the preciousness of time. Thoughts of Jimin linger like a lifeline, a beacon of hope in the encroaching abyss. Despite your reluctance to surrender to the void, exhaustion weighs heavy upon your weary soul, leaving you with little strength to fight.

The air grows thick with suffocating heat, enveloping you in an oppressive embrace as darkness threatens to consume you whole. Despite the sweltering temperature, shivers wrack your trembling frame, tears mingling with sweat upon your cheeks in a testament to your despair. A profound sense of isolation descends upon you, a heavy cloak of loneliness in the face of impending doom. Panic claws at your chest, a desperate plea echoing in the recesses of your mind—no, you’re not ready for this, not yet. 

But in the blink of an eye, the world fades into an abyss of darkness, swallowing you whole.

Without warning, Jimin awakens in the dead of night, a strange sensation coursing through his body, disrupting the peaceful slumber he usually enjoys. His eyes flutter open, his mind unexpectedly alert, an oddity at this late hour. Running a hand through his tousled blonde locks, he senses the futility of attempting to return to sleep. With a resigned sigh, he resolves to quench his newfound thirst, navigating his way down to the kitchen in the darkness, the silence of the night shrouding his solitary journey.

Descending the stairs with deliberate steps, Jimin navigates his way through the dimly lit house and into the kitchen, where he fills a glass with water. As he takes a sip, his gaze absentmindedly drifts towards the window, only to be arrested by a peculiar sight outside. With a furrowed brow, he pulls back the curtain, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of flames licking the night sky, casting an ominous glow over your residence.

A surge of dread washes over him, gripping his heart with icy fingers as he beholds the inferno raging outside your home. His breath hitches in his throat, a strangled gasp escaping his lips, as the glass slips from his trembling fingers, shattering upon impact with the unforgiving floor. Water spills like tears, mingling with the shards of glass.

Heart pounding with urgency, he races up the stairs, his feet pounding against the floor with frantic intensity. Bursting into his brother’s room, he flings the door open with a resounding crash. 

“Jungkook! Wake up!” he cries out, his voice laced with urgency and fear. “There’s a fire at Bora ranch!”

Startled from slumber, Jungkook bolts upright, his eyes wide with confusion and sleep-induced disorientation. “What’s going on?” he demands, his voice tinged with a mix of alarm and bewilderment.

“Get the fuck up! We need to make sure they’re okay!” Jimin’s voice cracks with urgency, his words laced with a potent blend of fear and determination. With a swift tug, he yanks the duvet off Jungkook’s body, his movements urgent and decisive. Jungkook springs into action, propelled by his brother’s urgency, scrambling to grab some clothes as adrenaline courses through his veins.

In a sudden rush of realization, Jimin’s eyes widen as he registers his scant attire, clad only in his boxers. With a sense of urgency coursing through his veins, he dashes back into his bedroom, his movements swift and purposeful as he hastily throws on some clothes, his mind racing with the need to act swiftly in the face of impending danger.

“Should we get Yoongi and Hoseok?” Jungkook’s voice rings out amidst the chaos, his words punctuated by the thunderous rhythm of their footsteps as they hurtle down the stairs, snatching up their boots in a frenzied haste.

“Yeah, we need all the help we can get!” Jimin’s agreement echoes through the tumult, his heart hammering against his ribs with a frantic urgency— you have to be okay. With determination driving him forward, he sprints towards the cottages where Yoongi and Hoseok are sleeping. Bursting into Yoongi’s room without a preamble, he finds the poor man groggy and disoriented, his yells initially falling on deaf ears amidst the haze of sleep.

Suddenly, Hoseok materializes in Yoongi’s doorway, his voice tinged with disbelief and concern. “A fire?” His words hang heavy in the air, cutting through the haze of confusion and sleep like a beacon of clarity amidst the chaos.

Jimin simply nods, a whirlwind of panic swirling in his eyes, each frantic heartbeat urging them to hasten their efforts. With a bush fire, time is a merciless adversary, and he knows they must act swiftly to ensure your safety.

With urgency coursing through his veins, Hoseok rushes to Yoongi’s side, his hands grabbing hold of his weary form and shaking him awake. “Wake up, babe!” He exclaims, his voice trembling with urgency and fear. “There’s a fire!”

Yoongi jolts upright, his eyes scanning the room in a frantic search for signs of fire, only to find none. A wave of relief washes over him, his tense muscles gradually easing. Yet, as he catches sight of Jimin’s startled expression, a sense of unease creeps back into his veins, dispelling the fleeting comfort.

“The fire’s raging at Bora ranch,” Jimin urges, his voice urgent as they hastily don their clothes. “We need to move—now,” he insists, his words a fervent plea propelled by the gravity of the situation.

With synchronized determination, they burst outside, their feet pounding against the ground as they rush towards their vehicles. Jungkook’s truck roars to life, its engine already purring with readiness as they pile in, their hearts racing in tandem with the accelerating beat of the engine. Tires screech against the dirt, leaving behind a trail of urgency as Jungkook accelerates out of the yard, the weight of their concern propelling them forward towards your home.

The atmosphere inside the truck is suffocating, weighed down by an oppressive silence that hangs thick in the air. Jimin can hardly take it, the tension gnawing at his nerves like a relentless predator. But as they approach your house, its silhouette shrouded in towering flames, a surge of dread courses through him. Outside, chaos reigns as stable hands dart about in a frenzy of panic, their frantic movements a stark contrast to the engulfing inferno.

Jimin leaps out of the truck, his heart pounding with a desperate urgency as he makes a beeline for Soo-ah amidst the chaos. “Where is she?” He demands, his voice a raw mix of fear and determination, his eyes searching hers for any sign of reassurance.

Soo-ah’s sorrowful expression sends a shiver down Jimin’s spine, a cold knot of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. He glances over at his brother, Jungkook, who stands beside him, his chest heaving with adrenaline-fueled urgency. Together, they share a silent understanding—a silent vow to do whatever it takes to ensure your safety amidst the engulfing inferno.

“They are both stuck inside, they can’t get out and we can’t get in,” Ara’s voice trembles with tears, her words cutting through the chaos like a knife. Hoseok rushes to her side, a pillar of strength amidst the turmoil, his arms encircling her trembling form in a comforting embrace, as they both grapple with the overwhelming fear and helplessness of the situation.

“Have you called the firemen?” Yoongi’s calm demeanor belies the urgency of the situation, his voice steady as he takes charge amidst the chaos. Jimin struggles to comprehend Yoongi’s composure, his own heart threatening to burst from his chest with worry for you. Each passing second outside feels like an eternity wasted, a precious moment lost in indecision—Jimin knows they can’t afford to delay any longer, action must be taken, and fast.

He has to do something!

Restlessness consumes him, an urgent energy coursing through his veins as he clenches his fists at his sides. The weight of inaction pulls down on him like a heavy burden—he can’t simply stand idly by while you’re in danger. Every fiber of his being screams for action, for a chance to reach you, to pull you from the engulfing flames. The thought of you trapped inside ignites a fiery determination within him—he refuses to entertain the notion that you might be suffocating in there, not while there's still a chance to save you.

His body moves with an instinctual force, propelling him towards the main door in a surge of determination. The cacophony of voices around him fades into insignificance—he hears their warnings, their pleas for caution, but he cannot heed them. Time is slipping away, and he refuses to stand idle while you remain in peril. The urgency to ensure your safety eclipses all other considerations. He must find you, reassure himself of your well-being, and bring you to safety, no matter the risk.

The oppressive heat of the engulfing flames envelops him as he stands in the doorway, a stark reminder of the danger that looms within. Despite the overwhelming odds stacked against him, he knows he must make the attempt, no matter how reckless it may seem. Desperation fuels his actions as he improvises a makeshift barrier for his mouth with the edges of his shirt, a feeble attempt to shield himself from the searing heat and choking smoke. Surveying the inferno that surrounds him, he struggles to push aside the paralyzing fear gnawing at his core. Thoughts of your potential whereabouts flash through his mind—maybe you’re still asleep in your room, blissfully unaware of the imminent danger, or worse, trapped and helpless amidst the relentless blaze. Yet, he refuses to entertain the latter possibility, not yet—not until he’s exhausted every ounce of effort to find you and bring you to safety.

As he stands amidst the flames, grappling with the enormity of the task before him, a familiar presence materializes at his side. 

With a swift turn of his head, he locks eyes with his brother, a silent exchange of determination passing between them. Without a word spoken, they share a nod—a silent agreement to face the inferno together. 

In perfect synchrony, they steel themselves against the searing heat and billowing smoke, and with unwavering resolve, they plunge into the heart of the raging blaze, their footsteps echoing amidst the crackling of flames.

Amidst the oppressive heat and acrid stench of burning wood, the air thick with the suffocating smoke of a fire run rampant, Jimin’s senses reel with the intensity of the fire. The stairs before them lie engulfed in a writhing sea of flames, a daunting obstacle that threatens to thwart their desperate bid for rescue. 

Yet, driven by a fierce determination, Jimin and his brother press onward, their footsteps echoing against the backdrop of crackling fire. With adrenaline coursing through their veins, they ascend the staircase with swift determination, their breaths ragged and labored as they navigate the treacherous terrain. As they reach the top, their chests heave with exertion, the searing heat seeping through their clothes and scorching their skin. His heart pounds in his chest as they exchange a wordless glance, a silent reassurance passing between them in the face of unimaginable peril.

With purposeful strides, Jungkook moves towards Jessi’s door, his hand poised to turn the warm handle, but it refuses to yield. Jimin follows suit, his trembling fingers grappling with the warm doorknob of your room, yet despite his efforts, it remains steadfastly locked. 

Panic threatens to consume him as he grapples with the realization that their path to safety has been obstructed, the flames of despair licking at the edges of his consciousness.

Locked in a desperate race against time, their shared determination ignites a surge of adrenaline as they exchange a resolute glance. Without hesitation, they channel their combined strength into a synchronized assault on the stubborn barrier before them. With a primal roar of exertion, they unleash a barrage of powerful kicks, the thunderous impact reverberating through the air as their boots collide with the sturdy wooden door.

Driven by an unwavering resolve to reach you, to ensure your safety at any cost, they pour every ounce of their being into the relentless assault. And then, in a moment of sheer defiance against the encroaching flames, the door yields to their collective might, splintering open with a deafening crack as the barrier between them and their objective shatters into a shower of wooden fragments.

As he storms into your room, a tempest of urgency swirling around him, his heart skips a beat at the sight of you, cocooned in the midst of chaos. With gentle yet determined hands, he reaches out, his fingers threading through your hair in a tender caress, seeking to anchor you in the tumultuous reality. 

“Love?” His voice, a lifeline amidst the turmoil, carries a blend of concern and relief, each syllable imbued with an unspoken plea for your response, a desperate hope that you’ll awaken from the grasp of slumber and reassure him that you’re safe.

An eerie silence blankets the room as his call goes unanswered, a chilling reminder of the precariousness of the moment. His heart lurches with a primal fear, the stillness of your form casting shadows of doubt in his mind. Uncertainty claws at his senses, a relentless adversary threatening to overwhelm him in the face of the unknown.

Reluctantly, he inches closer, his trembling hand hovering over your chest, a hesitant gesture born of equal parts dread and determination. With bated breath, he seeks solace in the rhythmic cadence of your heartbeat, a fragile melody that whispers tales of life amidst the chaos. As the reassuring thud beneath his palm registers, a flood of relief washes over him, a torrent of gratitude cascading through his veins. In that fleeting moment of reassurance, he offers a silent prayer to the heavens, a fervent plea for your continued safety.

Yet, the sight of your motionless form sends a shiver down his spine, a sobering reminder of the perilous precipice upon which you both stand. Though your breaths may still dance in the realm of the living, you seem to be unconscious, which isn’t good either, but he reckons it’s better than being dead.

Gently, he gathers your weight into his arms, cradling you against his chest with a tenderness that belies the urgency of the situation. As he lifts you, he can’t help but notice the telltale traces of dried tears etched upon your cheeks, each mark a silent testament to the fear and despair that had gripped you in his absence. His heart twists with a fierce pang of guilt, knowing that you had endured this terrifying ordeal alone, trapped within the suffocating embrace of the inferno. The realization tightens his throat with a knot of anguish, exacerbated by the acrid tendrils of smoke that coil around him, assaulting his senses with their noxious grip.

With each step towards safety, his arms cradle you protectively, a shield against the relentless onslaught of danger. Despite the weight of your unconscious form pressing against him, he carries you with unwavering determination, his every movement fueled by a desperate need to ensure your survival. With each step, he navigates through the swirling chaos of flames, his senses heightened to the crackling roar of the inferno that threatens to consume everything in its path. It’s a testament to his quick thinking and reflexes that he’s managed to evade the licking tongues of fire thus far, emerging unscathed from the fiery labyrinth that surrounds him.

As he emerges from your room, a flicker of relief washes over him at the sight of his brother, bearing your sister in a similar protective embrace. Their eyes meet in silent acknowledgment, a shared understanding passing between them that you both are now out of immediate danger. It’s a fleeting moment of reassurance amidst the chaos, when he realizes they have the task of maneuvering back to the safety of the outdoors.

As they descend the stairs, the cacophony of splintering wood and the ominous crackle of flames grow louder, echoing through the crumbling structure like a sinister symphony of destruction. Jimin’s eyes dart frantically around the deteriorating surroundings, a surge of urgency coursing through him as he watches sections of the building succumb to the merciless fire. His heart pounds in his chest as he realizes the gravity of their situation. Each passing second brings them closer to the brink of catastrophe, the looming threat of imminent collapse hanging heavy in the air like a palpable menace. With a gut-wrenching sense of dread gnawing at his insides, Jimin knows that they can’t afford to linger a moment longer.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible above the tumultuous roar of the blaze. 

Every fiber of his being screams at him to flee, to escape the clutches of the encroaching flames before it’s too late. They have to get out now, he realizes with chilling clarity, their very lives hanging in the balance as the once-familiar surroundings crumble into ash and dust around them.

As Jimin descends the stairs, his senses heightened by the chaos engulfing the building, a faint sound cuts through the roaring inferno—a whisper, barely audible amidst the crackling flames. His gaze flickers downward, drawn to your motionless form cradled in his arms.

Despite the pallor of your skin and the stillness of your body, your lips tremble with a silent plea, forming words that dance on the edge of his consciousness. With bated breath, he strains to decipher the murmured syllables, his heart hammering in his chest as he strains to catch every fleeting whisper amidst the cacophony of destruction.

As Jimin descends the stairs, your faint voice reaches him through the thick veil of smoke, each syllable a fragile thread binding his heart to yours. “Jimin, I…” you whisper, your words a haunting melody amidst the chaos of the raging fire. His name on your lips is both a plea and a promise, a reminder of the unbreakable bond that binds you together.

His chest constricts with emotion as he hears the tremor in your voice, your body frail and vulnerable in his arms. Every fiber of his being yearns to shield you from harm, to banish the fear and uncertainty etched upon your face. In that fleeting moment, amid the swirling inferno, he vows to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

Jimin and Jungkook descend the stairs, navigating through the billowing smoke and collapsing debris with a sense of urgency. As they reach the bottom, the sight of the main entrance consumed by a wall of flames sends a surge of panic through their veins. With no way out in sight, they exchange a silent glance, their determination unyielding in the face of adversity.

Turning away from the inferno blocking their path, they set their sights on the back entrance, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. Their boots pound against the scorched floorboards as they dash toward the exit, each step fueled by the instinct to survive. Amidst the crackling of flames and the roar of destruction, they press forward, driven by a singular purpose: to escape the clutches of the fire and emerge unscathed into the cool embrace of safety.

Gasping for breath, their lungs craving the cool kiss of fresh air, Jimin and Jungkook burst through the back entrance, their bodies trembling with exertion and relief. Collapsing onto the ground, their chests heave with the weight of their harrowing escape, sweat mingling with soot on their skin as they bask in the newfound freedom from the raging inferno behind them.

Coughing violently, Jimin gently lowers you to the ground, your figure appearing eerily motionless against the backdrop of chaos. Yet amidst the turmoil, the subtle rise and fall of your chest offer a glimmer of hope, a fragile reassurance that despite the devastation surrounding you, life still stubbornly persists within your fragile frame.

As he cradles you close, he feels the rhythmic thud of your heartbeat beneath his trembling palms, a fragile reassurance amidst the devastation. His yearning intensifies, desperate for the solace of your gaze to pierce through the suffocating haze. A solitary tear breaks free, tracing a path down his soot-stained cheek, as he leans over you, his silent sobs mingling with the crackle of the flames.

He surveys your form, clad in nothing but your short pajamas, and his heart aches at the sight of ashes smudging your delicate features and clinging to your body, while your bare feet carry the painful marks of the searing heat. Unable to stem the tide of tears cascading down his cheeks, he's overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions, his anguish mirrored in the devastation that surrounds you. Fuck, now he can’t stop crying.

“What happened?” As he lifts his gaze, his eyes meet those of your sister, cradled in his brother’s arms, her coughs echoing the struggle for breath that they all share. Amidst the billowing smoke and crackling flames, her bewildered expression speaks volumes, silently questioning the chaos that has thrust them into the cold night air.

Jungkook gestures toward your engulfed home, and a wave of sorrow washes over her features, etching lines of despair onto her once hopeful face. But then, her gaze flits between Jungkook, you, and Jimin, her eyes widening with realization like a sudden crack of lightning in the darkness. With a desperate urgency, she squirms in Jungkook’s arms, a silent plea echoing in her frantic movements to reach you both.

“She’s not waking up. But she’s breathing,” Jimin murmurs, his voice tinged with a mixture of concern and frustration as he seeks to comfort your sister. Yet, deep down, he knows his words offer little solace, for the absence of your consciousness weighs heavily on them all.

Tears cascade down Jessi’s cheeks as she seeks solace in Jungkook’s comforting embrace, her sobs muffled against his chest, her entire frame trembling with fear and anguish.

The urgent rhythm of footsteps echoes across the scorched ground as Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin converge on the terrace where Jimin and the others are gathered, their faces etched with concern and their eyes wide with fear, their collective breaths held in anticipation of the unfolding tragedy.

Relief washes over Soo-ah’s face as she collapses beside you, her eyes darting between your still form and Jimin’s tear-streaked face, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and gratitude, thankful for the sight of you both amidst the chaos and devastation of the fire.

“What happened?” Yoongi’s voice breaks through the tension, his concern palpable as he approaches, seeking answers amidst the swirling emotions and charred remnants of the night's events.

“Come on, wake up love,” Jimin’s voice quivers with desperation as he tenderly strokes your hair, his silent plea echoing in the night air. The weight of everything you’ve endured hangs heavy in the atmosphere, urging him to pray with all his might for your return to consciousness.

“I think she’s unconscious,” Jimin’s voice trembles with emotion, tears streaming down his cheeks as he struggles to maintain composure. The touch of Yoongi’s hand on his back offers a brief moment of solace amidst the chaos, a silent reassurance that they’re all in this together.

“Maybe she inhaled too much smoke,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the tension, laden with concern as he offers a possible explanation for your unconscious state. With the others drawing nearer, their collective worry hangs heavy in the air.

“I just want her to be okay,” Jimin’s voice breaks with emotion, each word heavy with the weight of his fear and love. His hiccups betray his struggle to contain his anguish, tears streaming down his cheeks to cascade onto your face, a silent plea for your recovery.

“She’ll be okay,” Yoongi’s voice is a soothing whisper against the backdrop of chaos, his hand a gentle anchor on Jimin’s trembling back. Yet, despite his attempt to reassure, the pain in Jimin’s chest refuses to subside, a relentless ache echoing the uncertainty of the moment.

As the piercing wail of sirens fills the air, Jimin’s tense muscles finally relax with a sense of relief—help has arrived. The firemen swiftly leap into action, their trained movements a dance of efficiency as they unleash torrents of water and foam, battling the voracious flames that threaten to devour everything in their path. Amidst the chaos, Jimin’s eyes catch sight of another vehicle approaching, its flashing lights casting an eerie glow over the scene. Recognizing it as an ambulance, his heart leaps with a mix of hope and apprehension. Two paramedics rush to his side, their urgent footsteps echoing his own racing pulse as they settle beside him.

A burly fireman strides over, his expression etched with urgency as he scans the group for any sign of distress. With a grave nod, he inquires if anyone else remains trapped inside the fire. Heads shake in unison, a collective silent plea for everyone’s safety. Satisfied with their response, the fireman retreats to join his comrades, a determined glint in his eye as they continue their battle against the encroaching blaze.

Their gaze shifts from the firefighter to you and your sister, where the paramedics are now attending to your needs. With a practiced eye, one paramedic assesses your condition, expressing confusion at your unconscious state despite outward signs of normalcy. Assuring you’ll be taken to the hospital for further evaluation, he seems baffled by the inexplicable situation. Meanwhile, Jessi vehemently refuses assistance, insisting on remaining at the scene rather than being whisked away to the hospital.

The paramedics emphasize the standard protocol following exposure to a fire, urging Jimin and his brother to accompany them. “It’s crucial we assess you for any potential smoke inhalation effects,” they explain, gesturing towards both of them.

As Jimin and Jungkook nod, relinquishing control to the paramedics, they witness the swift actions unfold. You’re carefully placed on a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance. Meanwhile, another ambulance arrives, from which a fresh team of paramedics rushes to attend to Jessi. Jimin observes Jungkook’s steadfast support, walking alongside her, holding her hand tightly. Despite her protests about the ordeal’s necessity, she's more concerned about your well-being, and Jimin's heart swells with gratitude for your unwavering bond.

You’re gently loaded into the ambulance, and Jimin’s heart weighs heavily with worry. The paramedic gestures for him to join you, and he settles beside you in the cramped space, sandwiched between the paramedic and you. Oxygen masks are swiftly placed over both of your faces, and Jimin’s gaze remains fixated on you as the paramedic meticulously examines you for any signs of damage from the fire—cuts, burns, anything that might indicate the extent of the ordeal you’ve endured. Jimin's breath catches in his throat, his fingers trembling with anxiety as he waits for reassurance that you’ll be okay.

The ambulance lurches into motion, and Jimin feels every jolt and bump along the road, a stark contrast to the stillness within the vehicle. Through the small windows, he glimpses your home, a haunting silhouette against the backdrop of flames and the cascading spray of water and foam. A queasy sensation churns in his stomach, and he coughs softly, his eyes fixed on your serene but fragile form as the paramedic diligently tends to you. In the midst of chaos, his focus remains solely on ensuring your safety, his heart aching with the weight of uncertainty.

Fuck, he hopes with every fiber of his being that you’ll be okay.

You feel a comforting warmth against your hand, a reassuring presence that eases the ache in your body. Slowly, you register the weight of a head resting gently on your shoulder. With a soft groan escaping your lips, the pressure shifts, a gentle response to your discomfort.

Your eyes flutter open, and a dry, scratchy sensation grips your throat. You cough softly, squinting against the assault of the room’s yellow fluorescent light. Where in the world are you?

As you turn your head, your eyes adjusting to the harsh light, they land on something beautiful: Jimin. Your heart quickens its pace, and a smile blooms on your lips as you take in his presence, though his expression carries the weight of worry.

“Hi, my love,” he whispers, his voice dripping with love and longing, yet tinged with a hint of sorrow. The sound of his voice washes over you like a comforting wave, and you eagerly intertwine your fingers with his, seeking solace in his touch.

“How are you feeling?” His gaze, filled with an ocean of love, meets yours, yet there’s a subtle furrow in his brow that unsettles you. Despite the warmth in his eyes, that furrow hints at a worry you wish you could erase.

You cough again, the rasp in your throat a reminder of the ordeal you’ve been through. “Okay, I think,” you manage, your voice a whisper against the backdrop of beeping machines and sterile hospital air.

He strokes your hair again with a tenderness that soothes your frazzled nerves, his touch tracing a path of reassurance down to your cheek. As you lean into his caress, a sigh escapes your lips, enveloped in the warmth and comfort he offers.

With Jimin’s hand firmly clasped in yours, determination fuels your efforts as you struggle to sit up. Against the backdrop of beeping machines and the sterile surroundings of the hospital room, you finally manage to rise, albeit slowly. Your gaze sweeps over the array of medical equipment surrounding you, noting the IV drip connected to a port in your hand, a tangible reminder of the ordeal you've endured.

As the door creaks open, a figure clad in a white coat strides in, their demeanor exuding both professionalism and concern. The doctor’s presence commands attention as they approach your bedside, their eyes scanning you with a practiced scrutiny. With a gentle yet probing inquiry, they delve into your well-being, seeking reassurance amidst the lingering aftermath of the fire. Despite your efforts to convey resilience, your voice betrays the strain.

“That’s to be expected with all the smoke you inhaled. And you’ve been unconscious for a few days, so that might not help the itchy feeling you have in your throat,” The doctor’s words hang in the air, punctuated by the gravity of your realization. Unconscious? For days?

The revelation hits you like a wave, washing over you with disbelief and a sense of disorientation. You exchange a bewildered glance with Jimin, your mind struggling to reconcile the lost time with the present moment. The doctor’s explanation offers a semblance of understanding, attributing your hoarse throat to the lingering effects of smoke inhalation and the prolonged unconsciousness. 

As you meet Jimin’s reassuring gaze, a silent understanding passes between you both, anchoring you in the present moment despite the disorienting haze of recent events. His nod offers a steadying presence, a silent promise that you’re not navigating this uncertainty alone. Returning your attention to the doctor, her words linger in your mind like an echo, a gentle reminder of the fragility of your body and the importance of self-care in the aftermath of such trauma.

“Rest,” she advises, her tone a blend of professionalism and empathy, “and we'll monitor your progress closely.” With a final sweep of her gaze, she withdraws from the room, leaving you and Jimin enveloped in a cocoon of quietude.

Turning towards Jimin, you feel the weight of the recent ordeal pressing down on your shoulders like a heavy burden. “There was a fire... in my house,” you utter, each word a struggle against the vivid memories clawing at the edges of your consciousness. As the recollection floods your mind, your voice wavers, threatened by the surge of emotions threatening to engulf you. Yet, despite the turmoil within, Jimin remains a steadfast presence by your side, his silent solidarity a lifeline in the midst of chaos. Feeling his gentle touch, a comforting reassurance amidst the turmoil, you find solace in the warmth of his fingers rubbing soothing circles on your hand.

“I thought I was gonna die,” you confess, the words tumbling from your lips laden with raw emotion, each syllable a testament to the terror that gripped your heart during those harrowing moments. As you speak, you feel the jagged edges of fear still lingering in the corners of your mind, a sharp reminder of the perilous brush with mortality you’ve just narrowly escaped. “But then you came and saved me, didn’t you?” You continue, your voice trembling with gratitude and vulnerability. Turning your gaze towards Jimin, you meet his eyes, the intensity of your unspoken emotions reflected in the shimmering pools of unshed tears that threaten to spill over. In that moment, a surge of longing washes over you, an overwhelming desire to envelop him in a tight embrace, to seek solace in the shelter of his comforting presence.

He nods solemnly, his gaze mirroring the tumultuous whirlpool of emotions churning within you. With a gentle yet unwavering grip, his hand remains intertwined with yours, serving as an anchor amidst the tempest of emotions threatening to engulf you. In his touch, you find solace and strength, a silent promise of unwavering support and companionship through the darkest of storms.

You vividly recall the sensation of sturdy, familiar hands enveloping your body, anchoring you amidst the chaos. Amidst the acrid stench of burning wood that filled the air, his scent, musky and robust, wafted around you like a reassuring embrace, calming your frayed nerves even in your unconscious state. In the firm grip of his hand, you found sanctuary, a refuge from the turmoil, a silent assurance that in his presence, everything would ultimately be alright.

As memories of that harrowing night flood your mind, tears cascade down your cheeks, each droplet a testament to the fear and relief etched in your heart. Drawing solace from his presence, you instinctively pull yourself closer to him, yearning for the warmth of his embrace. With a gentle gesture, you pat the space beside you on the bed, silently beckoning him to share in the solace of your sanctuary. Obliging your unspoken invitation, he rises from the chair with utmost care, mindful of the tangle of wires that tether you to the machines. As he settles beside you on the bed, his comforting presence envelops you like a protective shield, igniting a flicker of warmth that kindles a fire within your soul, banishing the lingering shadows.

You turn to him, your gaze tender as you witness the silent testament of his emotions, a few tears tracing their path down his cheeks. With heartfelt sincerity, you express the depths of your gratitude, your voice soft yet laden with profound meaning. “Thank you, Jimin, for saving me,” you whisper, each word a poignant acknowledgement of the profound impact of his selfless act.

You observe as a cascade of tears continues to journey down his captivating face, each drop a testament to the depth of his emotions. Without hesitation, you lean closer, seeking solace in the rhythm of his heartbeat, nestling your head into the sanctuary of his neck. In his embrace, you find refuge from the turmoil of the past, finding peace amidst the storm of emotions.

“You don’t have to thank me love, I would do anything for you,” he murmurs tenderly, intertwining his fingers with yours once more, his touch a gentle reassurance.

“Are you alright, though? You went into the fire to save me... Are you hurt?” you inquire, gazing up at his face, tracing the contours of his razor-sharp jawline, the delicate arrangement of moles adorning his neck, and the trio of moles gracing his forehead. He’s so breathtaking.

His chest is a comforting support, and you can feel the gentle vibrations as he speaks. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just worried about you,” he assures, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet hospital room.

You smile against his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace enveloping you. “I’m alive thanks to you,” you whisper softly, the words carrying the weight of your gratitude. In this moment, you’re overwhelmed by the flood of emotions coursing through you—love, gratitude, and a profound sense of being alive. You’re grateful for his heroic actions, for the precious gift of life he’s given you. Because in that harrowing moment, when flames threatened to engulf everything, you were certain it was the end. Yet here you are, with him by your side, and there’s a world of possibilities waiting to be explored together. You're filled with a deep appreciation for every moment, every experience yet to come, with him as your steadfast companion. As you bask in the warmth of his love, you feel your heart brimming with an overwhelming abundance of affection, ready to overflow at any moment.

You squeeze his hand gently and lift yourself up a bit, yearning to lock eyes with him. His gaze meets yours, and you can see the remnants of emotion lingering in his eyes. “Jimin,” you start, your hand finding its place over his heart, feeling its steady rhythm beneath your touch. As you look up at him, his hazel eyes capture yours, and a tender smile graces his lips, revealing his endearing crooked teeth. 

“Did I ever tell you how much I love you?” The words spill from your lips, carrying with them the depth of your affection, the intensity of your feelings for him.

His eyes soften, and with a gentle touch, he traces the curve of your cheek, his fingers lingering on your lips. As his touch glides over your bottom lip, a wave of tingles dances down your spine, and an involuntary moan escapes your lips, soft and breathy.

“You have told me. And I love you too,” he reassures, his voice a soft caress against your lips. With a surge of affection, you lean in, pressing your lips against his, savoring the softness and warmth that only his kisses bring. It's a tender embrace, each moment stretching as if time itself pauses, conveying the depth of your love and gratitude in the gentle meeting of your lips.

“Jimin,” you murmur, the weight of your words heavy with emotion, as you draw in a deep breath, feeling the electric hum of love coursing through your veins. “I don’t want to waste another moment. I want to spend every heartbeat, every breath, with you—for all eternity.”

You observe the shift in Jimin’s expression, his eyes widening like saucers, and a flicker of uncertainty dances across his features. Did you overstep? You quickly reassure yourself—it’s not a proposal, merely a declaration of your unwavering devotion. You just want him to understand that you're in this for the long haul.

“Don’t you want that?” You inquire, peering into his eyes, hoping to decipher the unexpected silence that now envelops him.

“Are you proposing to me?” He queries, a perplexed furrow forming on his brow, and you respond with a gentle smile.

“No, I just want to let you know that I want to be together forever. Not that I’m opposed to marriage or anything,” you clarify, your voice soft with affection, and you offer a reassuring smile. As you observe his expression easing, a warm chuckle escapes your lips.

“Also,” you begin earnestly, meeting your boyfriend's gaze, “I want you to know that I’m okay with Deiji, too. I’m ready to help take care of your child as if they were my own.” You grip his hands gently, acknowledging the complexity of the situation. You realize you haven’t fully addressed the challenges of his impending fatherhood and the presence of his ex, and you want to make amends.

His expression shifts, a subtle blend of emotions crossing his features—sadness, maybe regret. It’s a moment of vulnerability that you can’t quite decipher, leaving you feeling unsettled and curious all at once.

“What’s wrong?” you inquire, your voice soft but laden with concern as you peer deeply into his eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the turmoil brewing within him.

He releases a heavy sigh before mustering the courage to speak. “It turns out the baby isn’t mine,” he reveals, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and resignation, his eyes searching yours for understanding.

Your eyes widen, the realization sinking in like a heavy stone dropped into a tranquil pond. Weeks of intuition, of silent doubts, now confirmed in a single sentence. Yet, amidst your own turmoil, you ache for him, realizing the depth of his happiness at the prospect of fatherhood, now shattered by this revelation.

“Deiji lied,” he exhales, his voice carrying a mix of resignation and acceptance. Despite the gravity of the situation, there’s an odd calmness in his demeanor, tinged with a hint of subdued sorrow, as if he’s come to terms with the betrayal.

“Wait, that means…” You pause, the realization dawning on you slowly, each piece falling into place like a puzzle.

“Yeah, she cheated on me,” he utters, his voice laced with a complex blend of anger and sorrow, the betrayal still fresh in his mind.

Tenderly, you cup his cheek, your touch conveying volumes of empathy. “Jimin, I’m so sorry,” you whisper, your voice a soft balm to his wounded heart.

He shakes his head gently, a weary smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice carrying a quiet strength despite the storm raging within him.

You shake your head adamantly, the weight of his pain echoing in your heart. “No, it’s not. Cheating is never okay,” you assert, your voice firm with conviction. “And I know how much you looked forward to becoming a father.”

You envelop him in a tight embrace, seeking solace in each other’s arms. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your words laden with empathy and understanding, as if trying to absorb his pain into your own being.

His hands find your back, his touch gentle yet seeking solace in the familiarity of your embrace. It's a moment of silent understanding, where words aren’t needed, just the reassurance of each other’s presence.

He draws back, his gaze sincere as he speaks, “It’s okay. I never wanted her. It’s always been you, and I know I’ve made mistakes in the past, dating her just to spite you. I’m sorry for that. But you’re the one who matters to me.” His words hang in the air, heavy with honesty and a newfound clarity.

As his bottom lip quivers, you draw him closer, pressing your lips against his in a reassuring kiss. “It’s okay, Jimin,” you murmur softly against his mouth. “I forgive you, okay?” The warmth of your embrace envelops him, offering solace in the midst of his turmoil.

Tears glisten in his eyes as he sniffles, his nod a silent acknowledgment of your forgiveness. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “With how I behaved, I know I don’t deserve your love. But I’m grateful to have it.” His admission lays bare his vulnerability, underscoring the depth of his appreciation for your understanding and acceptance.

You tenderly stroke his head, guiding him into the embrace of your chest, finding solace in the warmth of each other’s presence. Both of you have your share of mistakes, and it’s not solely his burden to carry. You’ve reconciled before, acknowledging past errors, and now, in this intimate moment, you reaffirm your forgiveness. As you hold him closer, you silently convey reassurance, promising that together, you’ll weather any storm that comes your way.

You linger in that comforting embrace for what feels like an eternity, finding solace in each other’s presence amidst the tumult of emotions. However, as the minutes pass, your mind drifts back to the charred remnants of your home, now a haunting memory etched in the flames’ aftermath. The uncertainty gnaws at your heart, casting doubt on the notion of having a place to call home, leaving you grappling with a profound sense of loss and displacement.

As you hold Jimin close, seeking comfort in the warmth of his presence, a pressing question weighs on your mind like a heavy stone. “Jimin?” you murmur, feeling the subtle shift of his movements against you. “How badly... how badly was the ranch burned?” The words hang in the air, laden with the weight of uncertainty, echoing the flickering flames that devoured everything in their path, leaving behind a trail of destruction.

As Jimin eases back, his eyes meet yours, revealing the toll of the recent turmoil etched upon his features. “Almost the entirety of the house is gone,” he confesses, his voice carrying the weight of sorrow, “but everything else remains unscathed.”

Your heart plummets, and the once bright smile on your face fades into a grim realization. It's the nightmare you dreaded, the cherished sanctuary of your childhood now reduced to ashes, swallowed by the unforgiving flames.

“So I have nowhere to live?” You voice the question, its timidity echoing in the sterile confines of the room, laden with uncertainty and a hint of despair.

“You’re welcome to stay with me. All of you,” he offers, his voice a comforting embrace, as soothing as a summer's night. The words wash over you, a balm to your uncertainty, and you find solace in the idea of sharing a home with your boyfriend, if only temporarily while your beloved ranch is rebuilt.

“I’d love that, thank you,” you beam at him, drawing close for another kiss. As his arms envelop you, you feel a rush of warmth, reassurance flooding your senses. In that moment, locked in each other’s embrace, you realize with certainty that amidst the ashes of your past, a new beginning awaits, and everything, somehow, will be alright.

You, your sister, and your stable hands have all relocated to Jimin and Jungkook’s ranch while yours undergoes reconstruction. Several months have passed, and living in your boyfriend’s abode has proven to be a delightful experience. Jimin has effortlessly woven you into the fabric of his life, making you feel cherished and embraced at every turn. Together with Jungkook, they’ve played the role of hosts and chefs, dishing out delicious meals that have become cherished memories, a testament to the warmth and hospitality that permeate every corner of their home.

It’s as if you’ve found your true home, and you start to wonder if maybe home isn’t defined by a location, but by a sensation, a warmth nestled within your heart. It’s the feeling that envelops you when you’re surrounded by those you hold dear, a sense of belonging that transcends physical boundaries.

Despite the comfort and warmth you’ve found in this temporary haven, your heart yearns for the day your own ranch will be restored to its former glory. With just a month or two remaining until completion, the anticipation bubbles within you like an eager child awaiting Christmas morning.

“Do you look forward to moving back home?” Jimin’s voice breaks through the tranquility of the moment, drawing your attention away from the serenity of the couch. His fingers intertwine with yours, a gesture so familiar and comforting. His question hangs in the air, stirring something within you as you ponder the imminent return to your beloved ranch.

You shift your focus to him, your eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions. A soft smile graces your lips as you wrestle with your thoughts. “It’s a bit of a mixed bag,” you confess, your tone tinged with uncertainty.

You nestle closer to him, your gaze drifting down to his velvety lips, tempting and inviting. “I’ve grown to love it here,” you murmur, your voice soft with affection. “It feels like home, with you.” 

Pausing, you meet his gaze again, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Yet, there’s a different kind of warmth waiting for me back at our ranch. I miss that familiarity too.”

As he nods, his gaze deepens, hinting at unspoken desires. Drawing closer, your lips meet in a passionate embrace, igniting a rush of sensations. You press into the kiss, a hunger driving you to explore deeper, to savor the intoxicating taste of him. His tongue envelops you, a blend of sweetness and longing, leaving you craving more with each kiss of his soft lips.

With a shared laugh, you both pull back, locking eyes filled with a mix of affection and mirth. The moment lingers, a silent understanding passing between you as you bask in the warmth of each other.

“I’m thrilled you feel at home here. Having you by my side every night is beyond amazing,” he confesses, his eyes shimmering with adoration, his smile speaking volumes. You're drawn to him like a magnet, leaning in for another kiss. While you’ll miss the nights spent together, there’s comfort in knowing you have a few more months to cherish these moments before returning home.

Amidst the kiss, he chuckles softly and breaks away, “As much as I’m loving this, we’ve got work to do. Remember we have to put hay into the stalls while the horses are out?”

You chuckle, realizing you've been indulging in too much couch time, wrapped up in kisses and embraces rather than tending to your responsibilities. “You’re right,” you agree, rising from the couch. “Time to get back to work. Let’s do it.”

You both stand up, Jimin's hand fitting perfectly into yours as you stride out of the house together, heading towards the expansive stables. 

Amidst the rustic charm, you locate the towering stacks of hay tucked at the back. With a shared glance and a silent agreement, you both dive into the task, filling your wheelbarrow with fragrant hay. Laughter bubbles between you, turning the chore into a playful competition, each of you determined to fill the wheelbarrow faster than the other.

With a victorious grin, you complete the task first, playfully teasing Jimin by sticking your tongue out as you seize the wheelbarrow and start pushing it down the aisle of the barn. Jimin, undeterred, swiftly grabs another wheelbarrow, determined to catch up, his movements swift and purposeful as he gathers hay, his competitive spirit ignited by your playful challenge.

In the bustling aisle of the barn, he leaps into action beside you, tossing bundles of hay into each stall with practiced ease. Amidst the flurry, a clump of hay finds its way into his blonde locks, prompting a mischievous glint in his eye as you yelp, attempting to evade him. With a playful smirk, he retaliates, clutching a sizable heap of hay and closing in on you, his laughter blending with yours in the echoing space of the barn.

“No, no, babe!” You giggle, attempting to evade Jimin’s playful assault with the hay, but he’s determined, closing in on you until you’re backed into a corner. 

With a mischievous grin, he launches the hay into the air, creating a whimsical downpour that envelops you like a gentle rain shower. As the golden strands settle around you, you’re captivated by the intensity in his eyes, darkened with desire. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, sending a shiver down your spine as he presses his thigh against your core, eliciting a sharp intake of breath.

He stands before you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as if he’s just sprinted a marathon, yet you both know he hasn’t moved a muscle. His proximity is suffocatingly close, his breath warming your skin, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, teasing but not quite touching. 

You seize his chiseled jaw with an urgency born of desire, yanking him down towards you, your lips crashing together in a fervent collision of passion. The kiss is fierce, a whirlwind of hunger and longing, leaving no room for hesitation or restraint. Each movement is charged with an intensity that sets your senses ablaze, as if you’re trying to convey a lifetime of love and longing in that single, electric moment.

As you delve deeper into the kiss, a surge of arousal courses through your veins, electrifying every inch of your being. His responding moan resonates within your mouth, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a firestorm of passion within you. It’s as if you’re suspended in mid-air, enveloped by the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours, lost in a realm where time stands still and the world fades away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a symphony of desire.

“You taste so damn good, always,” he pants between heated breaths, his fingers entangled in your hair, sending shivers down your spine with each gentle stroke. His gaze is intense, brimming with an insatiable hunger that mirrors your own, igniting an inferno of desire that threatens to consume you both. Every fiber of your being aches for him, your body responding eagerly to his touch, anticipation coursing through your veins like wildfire. It’s a testament to his prowess, his ability to awaken your senses with just a glance, leaving you trembling with longing and your desire pooling in your panties, aching for his touch.

“You too,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, the words laden with unspoken longing and affection as you rest your hands on his sturdy chest. His black t-shirt clings to his muscles in all the right places, accentuating every contour and ripple, and you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from the tantalizing sight. As your eyes wander downward, you can’t help but notice the subtle bulge straining against the fabric of his pants, igniting a fierce heat within you that threatens to consume your every thought.

“Jimin, I…” you gasp for breath, your chest heaving with desire as your eyes lock with his, burning with an intensity that mirrors the inferno raging within you. Every fiber of your being aches with longing, your body yearning for his touch, his embrace, his everything.

With a silent understanding passing between you, he nods knowingly, seizing your hand and pulling you with a sense of urgency back down the aisle, toward the towering haystacks. Each step quickens your pulse, anticipation electrifying the air as you follow him into the room with the hay, ready to lose yourselves in the haystacks and each other.

Amidst the scattered hay surrounding the towering bales, Jimin guides you down into the soft bed of straw, eliciting giggles as you sink into its fluffy embrace. Though the itch of the hay tickles your skin, it’s a minor nuisance compared to the thrill of Jimin’s weight pressing down on you, his lips tracing a fiery path along your neck. Each kiss and gentle nip leaves a tantalizing mark and you can’t help but giggle beneath him.

His thigh presses firmly between your legs, teasingly close to where you ache for him most. A soft whimper escapes your lips, a symphony of desire harmonizing with each tender caress of his mouth against your neck.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as your hands glide over Jimin’s hips, deftly unfastening his belt, your fingers trembling with anticipation. With each movement, you feel the urgency building within you, a primal need igniting every nerve ending. His low moan reverberates against your skin, sending shivers down your spine, and you can’t help but reciprocate, your name escaping his lips like a whispered prayer. As he grinds against you, your gaze locks with his, a silent promise of desire burning between you.

The intensity of your desire surges through every fiber of your being, igniting a primal hunger that demands to be satisfied. With trembling fingers, you tease at the waistband of his boxers, the anticipation electrifying the air between you. “Jimin,” you murmur, your voice thick with longing, “I want you to fuck me. I need you so bad.” Each word drips with urgency, a fervent plea for the release of the burning desire that consumes you both.

As he withdraws from the tender caress of your neck, his eyes lock onto yours, capturing the raw intensity of your lust. The delicate skin of your neck, adorned with the marks of his fervent affection, serves as a testament to the passion that courses between you. A deep, guttural groan escapes his lips, echoing the primal yearning that consumes you both.

His gaze mirrors your own urgency, reflecting the unbridled desire that courses through both of you. With a fervent hunger burning in his eyes, he reaches up, his touch gentle yet charged with longing, as his fingertips trace the contours of your cheek. “Fuck, yes,” he breathes, his voice thick with anticipation and longing.

Your fingers deftly navigate the fabric, eagerly removing any barrier between you and him. As his boxers pool around his knees, his hardened dick springs free, standing proudly before you, a tantalizing promise of pleasure. The sight of him, flushed and ready, sends a surge of desire coursing through you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” you murmur, your voice husky with desire, as you admire his girthy and veiny cock; the head is red and glistening with precum. The thought of feeling him inside you again ignites a fire within you, fueling your craving for him even more.

As your fingers stoke his dick, eliciting a gratifying hiss from Jimin, he reciprocates the fervor by deftly undoing your pants. Sensing the urgency in his touch, you relinquish your hold on him, allowing him to eagerly strip away the barriers between you. With a sense of urgency, he slides down your pants and panties.

“Babe, you’re already dripping,” his voice, a husky whisper, sends shivers down your spine as his eyes widen with desire. The intensity of his gaze ignites an inferno within you, fueling your longing for him. Unable to contain your desire any longer, you arch your hips upward, a silent plea for him to fulfill your burning need.

“Yeah. I just want you so bad,” you murmur between desperate kisses, your fingers curling into his shirt as you draw him closer. A surge of longing courses through you as you feel his dick pressing against your heated pussy. With each tantalizing movement of his hips, his cock brushes against your sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. Your grip on his arms tightens, your nails digging into his skin, as you lose yourself in the ecstasy of his touch.

“Fuck that’s good,” you gasp, your breath hitching with each delicious stroke of his cock against your folds and clit. Every movement sends electric currents of pleasure coursing through your body, igniting a fire of desire within you. Your senses are overwhelmed with the intoxicating blend of arousal and anticipation, leaving you trembling with need. As much as the friction against your most sensitive areas drives you wild, the ache for him to be inside you grows stronger with each passing moment.

His touch sends shivers down your spine as his fingers glide over your cheek, the intensity of his gaze reflecting the hunger coursing through him. 

“So wet,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp, filled with desire and need.

Your breath hitches as you spread your legs wider, offering yourself fully to him amidst the scattered hay, the remnants of clothing forgotten in the heat of the moment. Jimin'’s relentless grinding ignites a fervor within you, eliciting desperate cries of pleasure. But as your senses reel, you seize his movements, locking eyes with him in a primal plea. “Jimin,” you gasp, urgency lacing your voice, “I need you inside me—right now.”

His chuckle dances in the air, teasingly playful, as he savors your eagerness. “So impatient. But I want to take my time with you,” he muses, his voice a velvet caress that stirs desire. His playful pout almost breaks your resolve, but the ache between your thighs demands satisfaction. Your core pulses with anticipation, craving the exquisite fullness only he can provide; you need him to fill you up, feel the stretch of him, the tingles he gives you, oh so fucking delicious.

“You can take your time, once you’re inside me my love,” you murmur, your voice a seductive whisper that ignites a fire in his eyes. Cupping his cheeks, you draw him into a passionate kiss, your urgency urging him to fulfill your craving. He nods, his desire mirroring yours as he relinquishes the teasing of your clit, his focus shifting to the imminent union of your bodies.

His cock glistens with the slickness of your arousal, from all the rubbing he did to your clit. With a hand, he guides his dick, teasing your entrance with its velvety heat, each touch sending a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins.

“Jimin,” your breath catches in your throat as he teases your entrance again, your voice a soft warning in a hiss, urging him to take you fully. His chuckle, accompanied by that endearing display of crooked teeth you adore, is all the reassurance you need before he presses into your welcoming warmth, sending a shiver of pleasure coursing through your body.

Gradually, he eases himself into you, each inch a tantalizing stretch that sets your nerves ablaze. Your arousal has left you slick and ready, no sting, only the exquisite sensation of being completely filled. When he finally reaches the hilt, his disheveled hair framing his face in a tantalizing manner, he already appears thoroughly ravished by the desire coursing through him.

His breath hitches as he withdraws entirely, the intensity of his desire evident in the way he swiftly realigns and thrusts back inside you with force.

You moan his name, fingers digging into his biceps as you plead, “Harder, babe.”

Jimin complies, but his pace remains deliberate. He did say he wanted to take his time with you. Each thrust is deliberate, unhurried, yet filled with a sensuality that drives you relentlessly toward the edge of ecstasy.

With every thrust, he emits a low grunt, his nose scrunching in concentration, a sight that makes you smile because you think it looks so damn cute and it makes your heart flutter with love.

An incessant itch prickles at your back, a reminder of the hay strewn beneath you. You silently thank the fabric of your shirt for shielding you, sparing you from the discomfort that would surely ensue if it weren’t there. 

In the silence that envelops you both, your eyes lock in a wordless exchange brimming with intimacy. No words are needed as you bask in the profound connection between you. His presence alone speaks volumes, echoing the depth of your union. Each of his deliberate thrusts plunges you into a realm of ecstasy, delving deeper until he finds that sweet spot, igniting sensations that curl your toes and leave you gasping for more.

His breaths come in ragged pants, matching the rhythm of his deliberate thrusts—each one deep, hard, and achingly slow. You sense his awareness of the way your walls clench around him, urging him on. With a voice strained with desire, he murmurs, “Are you close?”

“Yeah,” you gasp, the word barely escaping your lips as your body writhes beneath him, consumed by the intoxicating rush of pleasure.

His fingers dance over your pulsating clit, each stroke synchronized perfectly with his deep, rhythmic thrusts, sending electrifying waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With every delicate touch on your small bundle of nerves, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of a climax as your breath quickens.

“Come on my cock,” he urges, his voice a husky command that sends shivers down your spine. With a firm grip on your throbbing clit, he intensifies his movements, his eyes ablaze with desire as he implores you to let go, to surrender to the pleasure coursing through your body.

His image is a sinful delight, with his tousled blonde locks framing his sweaty face, his dick lodged inside you electrifying, and his skilled fingers orchestrating ecstasy on your throbbing clit. It’s overwhelming, the sensation building inside you, simmering for what feels like an eternity until you finally surrender. With a primal whimper, you give in to the release, your body convulsing in pleasure as you climax around his cock.

“Fuck,” breathless and trembling, you pant, feeling him withdraw his fingers from your throbbing clit, yet continuing his languid, deep, and unhurried thrusts. Every movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. Despite your disheveled state, he chuckles softly, but you find solace in his amusement, knowing that in this moment, nothing else matters.

Lost in a haze of lust, you fail to register the creak of the door opening until it’s nearly too late.

“I just have to find my jacket, I think I left it here somewhere,” your heart skips a beat as Hoseok’s voice echoes through the stables, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps. Wide-eyed, you let out an involuntary moan, still gasping for air, and your gaze shoots to Jimin, his girthy cock still buried deep inside your pussy.

You witness the panic reflected in Jimin’s widened eyes, attempting to push him away in haste. But before you can utter a word, he leans in closer, applying gentle pressure to silence you, his hand enveloping your mouth as he breathes a hushed “Shhh.”

As the tension thickens, you wonder if Jimin truly grasps the gravity of the situation. The sounds of Hoseok and Yoongi echo through the stables, each footstep amplifying your anxiety. The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine – the potential fallout from such an encounter is enough to make your heart race. Yet, amidst the turmoil, Jimin remains a statue beside you, his presence a reassuring anchor in the storm of uncertainty. Together, you hold your breath, silently praying for the imminent danger to pass unnoticed.

He stills inside you, not moving an inch. All you can do is hope that they don’t notice you and that they find Hoseok’s jacket fast.

The tension mounts as Hoseok’s voice draws nearer, his words cutting through the air like a blade. “Why is there hay scattered everywhere? And the wheelbarrows out on the aisle, that ain’t safe,” his mumble sends a chill down your spine, amplifying the urgency of your predicament. 

Each step he takes feels like a countdown to potential disaster, and you find yourself holding your breath, praying for a miracle to spare you from discovery.

“Are you sure you left it here?” Yoongi’s voice carries a hint of irritation, slicing through the tension like a knife. 

Despite the gravity of the situation, a chuckle escapes you, a tiny spark of levity in the midst of chaos. But that innocent sound proves costly, as Jimin’s dick shifts inside you, coaxing a soft moan from your lips, muffled by his warm and gentle hand. 

Then, as if time itself holds its breath, silence descends like a heavy shroud, enveloping you in a suffocating embrace. You hold your own breath, a silent prayer echoing through the chambers of your mind, pleading with the universe to spare you this embarrassment. The only sound is the frantic thud of your heart, each beat a drumroll of impending doom. You strain your ears, every nerve on edge, listening for the slightest hint of movement. Finally, the faint shuffle of feet reaches your ears, a symphony of relief as the danger retreats, leaving you trembling in its wake.

Jimin’s lips descend upon your neck, his touch both urgent and tantalizing, while his hand remains firmly pressed against your mouth, stifling any sound that threatens to escape. Each kiss, each nip sends a jolt of electric pleasure coursing through your veins, even as your mind races with the intensity of the situation. Fuck. Is he serious? Does he want to be found fucking you?

A mixture of a rush of lust and adrenaline rushed through you and you don’t know what to do. 

Are they gone?

You squirm beneath him, his touch is delicious and igniting a wildfire within you. His dick still rests inside you, not moving, the sensation is nice, and fuck you love it.

“I think it’s over here,” as Hoseok’s voice draws nearer, your heart races like a stallion thundering across open plains, each beat echoing in your ears like a drumroll of impending doom. You strain against Jimin’s firm grip, your breaths coming in ragged gasps that threaten to betray your hidden rendezvous. With every step they take, the weight of the moment presses down on you like a heavy bale of hay, the urgency of silence now a lifeline you desperately cling to. Thank god Jimin is covering your mouth, because you’re not being silent at all.

“Hobi. Let’s go,” Yoongi’s voice slices through the air like a whip crack, sharp and commanding, sending a jolt of apprehension coursing through your veins. It's the sound of authority, the kind that brooks no argument, and you hold your breath, willing the seconds to stretch into eternity, praying they won’t uncover your hidden embrace.

“Why? I have to find my jacket,” Hoseok’s plea rings out, laden with urgency, but it’s futile against the force of Yoongi’s insistence. There’s a tug-of-war in their voices, a battle of priorities playing out in the dimness of the stable. You shift slightly, granting Jimin more access to your neck, and your eyes dart around, landing on a jacket nearby. Fuck. It’s a stark realization—it’s likely Hoseok’s, the very item he’s desperately searching for amidst the scattered hay.

“We can find it later,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the tension like a sharp blade, its edge honed with unwavering resolve. 

“But babe, I think I left it by the hay, I’ll just grab it real quick,” he tries to plead again, his voice carrying a hint of desperation, a last-ditch effort to salvage his misplaced belonging.

“No. We can get it later. I have to show you something outside,” he says, his voice carrying an air of urgency, a mysterious promise laced within his words. It sounds like Hoseok finally relents, abandoning his search for the jacket.

Exasperated, he grumbles, “I don’t get why I can’t get my jacket, but fine,” as their footsteps gradually fade into the distance.

Jimin’s teeth graze your neck, igniting a surge of electric desire that courses through every fiber of your being.

As the door clicks shut, Jimin releases his grip on your mouth, allowing you to draw in a long-awaited breath, relief washing over you like a wave.

Breathless with adrenaline, you exclaim, “Damn, that was too fucking close!” 

Playfully smacking his chest while your heart still races, you chuckle. Despite the tension, a smile tugs at your lips as he runs a hand through his tousled hair, his bitten lip betraying a hint of mischief.

With a low chuckle, he leans in to capture your lips in a hungry kiss before resuming his rhythmic movements, each thrust deeper than the last, sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body.

He withdraws slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he teases, “Bet you’re grateful for keeping quiet now, aren’t you?”

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you retort, “Were you aiming to get caught? Is that a kink of yours?”

His laughter resonates, a rich blend of depth and sweetness, as he utters your name with a fervent moan, “I couldn’t care less.”

With a gentle stroke of your hair, he whispers, “You were so good at being silent babe. Where do you want me to come?”

You bask in the warmth of his praise, reveling in the intoxicating feeling of being praised. His thrusts become more urgent, yet he maintains a deliberate pace, each movement driving you closer to your orgasm. With a sense of urgency in his rhythm, you know he’s on the brink of release. Breathlessly, you reply, “Inside me.”

“Fuck. Do you think you can come again?” His question hangs in the air, charged with anticipation, his gaze smoldering with devilish intent. The tantalizing nip of his lip sends shivers down your spine, a thrilling danger you can’t resist. With a fervent nod, you invite the challenge. As his finger finds its way back to your clit, a primal moan escapes your lips, surrendering to the electric sensation.

Every touch, every caress, every moment with him is an intoxicating blend of ecstasy and longing. He fills you, surrounds you, consumes you in the most exhilarating way possible. You’re insatiable for him, craving his presence with a hunger that can never be fully satiated.

“You’re taking me so good, babe,” His voice, a husky rasp, sends shivers down your spine as he praises you again. You can’t help but admire the way his jaw clenches in pleasure, god he’s breathtaking.

His breaths come in ragged gasps as he increases the tempo, driving deeper and faster into you. The sensation is electrifying, sending you spiraling closer to the edge once more, your body teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

“Jimin, I’m gonna come again,” gasping his name, you lock eyes with Jimin, your plea echoing in the intensity of your gaze as he expertly pinches and pulls at your clit. A symphony of sensations overwhelms you, and you’re unable to contain the loud moans escaping your lips, your hand instinctively seeking to stifle them. Despite your efforts, ecstasy washes over you once more, your body convulsing in pleasure amidst the prickly embrace of the hay, as Jimin relentlessly propels you through the waves of your climax.

“Shit, so fucking pretty babe,” his words, dripping with raw desire, ignite a fire within you as he showers you with praise once more. The intensity of his admiration sends a surge of both love and lust coursing through your veins, causing your inner walls to pulsate with a primal need that only he can satisfy.

His hands assertively grip your hips, drawing you into him, while your fingers clench his sturdy biceps, anchoring yourself in the electrifying moment. His parted lips and rapid breaths synchronize with the rhythmic thrust of his hips, each movement a testament to his escalating desire. The friction of his dick against your walls elicits a delicious sensation, a prelude to the impending climax. You watch, captivated, as he nears the edge, pleasure etching across his features—his furrowed brows, scrunched nose, and the tightening grip of his hands on your hips. With a primal grunt, he releases his warm essence deep inside you, punctuating the moment with the fervent utterance of your name.

With a few final, fervent thrusts, he drives into you, while a mixture of both your juices spills out of your spent pussy and trails down to the hay. Gasping for air, chests rising and falling with the intensity of your shared ardor, you both revel in the aftermath of your ecstasy. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he leans in to capture your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

As he moans your name, the sound reverberates through your body, sending intoxicating shivers cascading down your spine. Your body responds instinctively, pulsating around him with an undeniable fervor. 

He withdraws slightly, trailing his lips down to your neck, where he plants soft, lingering kisses before tracing a path upward to your ear. The warmth of his breath caresses your skin, sending delightful shivers coursing through your body as you quiver beneath him. Though his words are whispered, they echo loudly in the depths of your being, “I love you.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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[panda-writes-kpop]

Dreamcatcher - Reaction to Reader Having A Sinus Infection/ Cold (Requested!)

a/n: two posts in less than a week???? who is this more motivated panda??? jk i'm trolling myself but i really wanted to have the two requests done in the same week. also happy jiu day!!! here's to the hope that her fic won't come out three weeks late! :] ❤️

tw: gruesome descriptions of a cold, food mentions, my brain went brrr when it got to Dami's section so hers is longer

related fic: le sserafim's version

♡ Masterlist ♡

Prompt: You swear you didn’t feel this terrible yesterday. All you had was a bit of congestion and a scratch in your throat. Today, when you woke up, you could barely lift your head off of the pillow due to the congestion in your head. You were sure that you had enough snot to fill a trash can within your two nostrils. All you wanted to do was lay down and rest, but the ding of your phone causes you to lift your head again.

My Love: Do you mind if I come over? I miss you :(

You text her back with what you think is a comprehensible answer, and you rest your head against the pillow.

The next moment you’re awake, your girlfriend is sitting right next to you. So much for self-isolation.

“Darling, I’m here for you.”

JiU’s voice and gentle touch pulls you out of your slumber. You sniffle for a bit as she starts to rub your arm in a comforting manner.

“I can tell you’re sick,” She frowns for a moment before softly smiling to herself, “and I’m going to try to help you. What do you need from me?”

You cough into your elbow before sitting up in bed.

“You could cuddle with me, if you don’t mind getting sick?” You joke to yourself before seeing JiU move to your side. “I’m joking, please don’t make yourself sick-"

“If it’ll help you feel better, it’s worth the risk.” She wraps her arms around you as you gently pull her into the bed.

“I always feel better when you’re with me, Minji.”

A stuffed animal to the head isn’t an ideal way to wake up, but it sucks more when you’re sick and your sinus headache flares up immediately.

“You’ve been sick for days, and you didn’t text me earlier?” SuA scoffs as you toss the stuffed animal to the side.

“I would’ve, but I was afraid of that sort of reaction.”

“C’mon, I’m your girlfriend! I can take care of you when you need me. You do the same for me when I need you most.” SuA looks disappointed, and you sigh to yourself.

“Alright, Nurse Bora, you can take care of me. But don’t take it as an excuse to rearrange my whole apartment-” You state as she laughs happily.

“I won’t, I promise! You won’t regret this.” SuA gives you a big hug, which tackles you further into the bed.

“Is this supposed to be healing?” You joke.

“Is it working?”

“Oddly enough, it is.”

“Babe, wake up.”

You rub your eyes before looking over at Siyeon.

“Siyeon-ah?” You croak out before she shushes you.

“I saw the tissues and the medicine on the counter. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s wrong,” She looks around in her bag for a moment, “but it does take a genius for me to remember my gift for you.”

Siyeon continues to dig in her bag as you grab your water.

“Siyeon, it’s okay, I’m just happy that you’re here with me,” You try to reach out to her with your hand, but she’s preoccupied, “Siyeon?”

Siyeon pauses for a moment, blinks twice, before gently placing her hand on her forehead.

“I forgot your care package at the dorms, I’m so sorry-”

You go to grab Siyeon’s hand, and you successfully do so before tumbling out of bed.

Siyeon laughs as she lays on top of you, apparently you pulled her down with you, and you find yourself doing the same.

“Feel better?” She smiles at you.

“I do.”

You wake up, alone, and you attempt to reach for your phone, but it’s not there anymore. You fumble in the dark for a few moments before a soft light appears next to you. Handong (who looks absolutely beautiful in the light) sits next to you.

“Sorry, love, your phone was almost dead and I wanted to make sure it was charged for you.” Handong adjusts the light as you cough and sit up in bed. “I wasn’t sure you were in the mood for company.”

“I’d rather have you here.” You weakly say. “Thanks for coming.”

“Good, because if you asked me to leave, I would’ve stayed in your living room until you passed out from exhaustion or fell asleep.”

“Geez, Handong, it’s like you’re obsessed with me or something. What a perv~” You chuckle as she scoffs before lightly smacking you. “Wow, hurt the ill. Way to prove a point.”

“Glad you’re feeling better.” She smiles before rubbing your shoulder. “You deserved that, by the way.”

“I disagree, you’re so mean to me.” You whine before laughing alongside her.

"Hey Siri!”

You raise your head, checking for Yooh’s phone, before burying your head back into a pillow.

“She’s not here.” You mumble to yourself.

Yoohyeon calls out to her phone, again, before opening the door to your room.

“Have you seen my phone?” She asks as you rise from your bed.

“No, I don’t think you’ve been in here. I would've woken up earlier if you had been.”

“Oh, you’re totally right!” She closes the door for a moment before opening it again. “I bought a few things from the store, and I’m going to order food when I can find my phone. Just stay in bed until you feel better, and I’ll bring you everything, alright?”

“Yooh, it’s okay, I can get out of bed.” You try to pull off the covers, but Yoohyeon’s disapproving glare causes you to stay in bed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you… once I find my phone.” She sighs to herself before facing away from the door. “Hey Siri!”

You’re happy to have Yoohyeon as a caretaker since you know she’ll take good care of you once her affairs are in order, of course.

Before you rise out of bed, you pull the mysterious, foreign (wet?) object from your face. When you realize that it’s a washcloth, you put it back onto your face. Laying down with that thing on your head feels like the best thing possible, since it helps relieve your headache.

Unfortunately, the drainage from your nose prevents you from completely lying down. You suffice for a half-up, half-down method of lounging before reaching for your phone.

Your hand meets a glass of water before your phone, and you happily drink from it as you are provided with some temporary relief from your sore throat. You wonder who did all of this… you didn’t text anyone, did you?

When you get to your phone, you notice multiple missed calls and messages from Dami.

My Love: I’ll be over in a few minutes, I need to grab a few things from the dorm.

Are you alright? You haven’t answered me yet.

One of your work friends texted me that you called out sick, so I’m guessing that you’re resting. If you see this, I’ll be there when you wake up.

“Dami, honey, where are you?” You call out to her before coughing.

“I’m in the living room, darling. Do you want me to come in?” Dami asks from the other side of the door. “I came in earlier to put a washcloth on your face since you were running a fever, and then I grabbed water in case you wanted it.”

“You can come in, if you want.” You set the water down as Dami opens the door. “Thanks for the water and the washcloth.”

“I don’t mind helping you out since it looked like you needed it.” She says before a light smile breaks out onto her face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Thanks, Dami,” You sit up fully and readjust the washcloth, “I appreciate the sentiment. Hopefully, you weren’t busy before you came over.”

“I wanted to see you, anyway. How are you feeling?”

“Not great, but I’m managing. I get these sinus infections every year.” You shrug to yourself. “They’re terrible, but after a day or two off of work, I’ll be back to myself… mostly.”

She smiles to herself before looking you over again.

“If there’s anything you need, at all, I can get it for you.”

“Thanks, love, I appreciate it.” You say before Dami closes the door and leaves you to get more rest.

“Why did you text me? I'm right here next to you.” Gahyeon grumbles for a moment before turning to face you. “Listen, I know you're upset with me for getting you sick, but I'll make it up to you-”

“-with hugs and kisses and lots of affection?” You force your cutest expression as she tries to hold back her laughter.

“I was going to offer to pay for dinner, but I can go for the free option if you would like.” She wraps her arms around you after you pull her closer. “I'm really sorry, babe, I didn't mean to get you sick after you took care of me.”

“It was worth it, seeing you so happy. I'd do it all over again for you.” You say before covering your mouth for an incoming cough.

“You're so sweet,” She blushes as she mumbles into your chest, “and I love you so much.”

You hear her sniffle as you chuckle to yourself.

“I love you too, every bit of you. And you don't need to apologize for getting me sick, I was probably infected before I came over to your place.”

You both laugh as your ailment drifts toward the back of your mind, at least until you feel the urge to sneeze.

[keirawantstocry]

Aight poly mc prompt

After losing Purgatory 2 day 3, Pac and Etoiles get sent home

Fit, excited/relieved after he notices Pac is back, immediately assumes Tubbo is also back, but gets confused when he doesn't spot him.

Pac, very roughed up from the trip and very upset, has to break the news to him that Tubbo isn't coming back for at least a little while

(inspired by the "I love you man" priv messages Pac and Tubbo sent eachother when the Squirrels and Pandas got eliminated, if that gives you more ideas)

-🪻

hiiii

“Pac!” Fit’s heart felt like it was being torn in two as Pac appeared at spawn and they locked eyes. He hated sappy shit, he had never ever thought he had been worthy of that kind of sappy love. He had never thought he would find anyone who was perfect and lovely who would give him that sappy kind of love, but there was Pac. There was Pac. 

He smiled. He was bloody and war torn from the fields of Purgatory. He had never been more beautiful. 

In a moment, Pac was in his arms. Curled into the strength of his grip. “Pac,” he breathed. “Pac, oh Pac.” He whispered it over and over again like a prayer as he held Pac as tight to his chest as he could. 

“You’re back.” 

“I’m back,” Pac breathed out against his skin. 

Finally after what felt like forever and no time at all, Fit let him go. “I’m so glad you’re back. It feels so much better to have our family all together like this.” 

Pac’s smile dropped. “But… we aren’t all together.” 

Fit froze. “What do you mean?” He glanced behind Pac. “Tubbo is…” But Tubbo wasn’t there. He was supposed to be right behind Pac. He always was. It was always supposed to be the three of them here together. His heart was being split in two once again but in pain. 

“Pac, where is Tubbo?” 

Pac’s eyes started to fill with tears. “He’s not coming back home yet, Fitch,” he said, voice breaking. 

Fit grabbed him again, gathered him up in his arms. “Okay, okay, it’s okay. I’ll hold you tight until he gets back okay? Then I’ll keep both of you safe forever.”

[reblog-house]

At the End of the Game, Thinking of Lives Past

Characters: GoodTimesWithScar, mentioned Pearlescentmoon and the Clockers

Wc: 700

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 234, "How it Ends"

Secret Life finale spoilers

AO3: Here!

It ends in silence.

The moments before it all ends, all he could hear was his voice of gratitude for something he never thought could be his. He didn’t know who he was thanking, but he found himself in front of the buttons looking at where the rest of the members would be, had they still been alive, and thanking the Nothing for how far he’d come on his own.

The silence was eerie.

Still, he pressed on. 

He remembered a life before this Game. He remembered multiple, in fact, but the farther away, the harder it was for him to remember them. He knew he’d had a life before the desert, but everything about it had long been lost to obscurity. He could barely remember his life before the second game. He had been a wizard, that’s for sure. That’s something he’d hoped would bring him alliances when he went into the Game and his brain filled with the knowledge of the first Game and what the rules were the second time around. Starting out with six lives had felt like a blessing at first. It wasn’t, he’d soon find. For the first time in a Game, he felt lonely.

He remembered a bit more about his life before the third Game. He’d worked with animals, he was friends with Pearl at school but both drifted off after finishing. He’d lived in the city but always wanted to move somewhere with less people, and what was keeping him tied was the knowledge that he’d have to part ways with his zoo friends — the animals he took care of. And then the Game happened and the choice was taken from him. And see how that turned out. A place with less people, more nature, his own Jellie Panda sanctuary, and new memories of previous Games, betrayals, and the loneliness that came with it.

The Jellie Pandas were his true soulmates. He’d remembered the previous Games, but they weren’t Him.

His fourth life… he remembered the most of, from his old lives. Mother Cleo, brother Bdubs, deadbeat dad Etho. It had seemed a bit strange back then to imagine and know that in previous Games and the lives that came before them, things between the four had been very different. That in not a single other… universe? Life? were they related in any way. Looking back, the whole idea of them as a family was very funny. Good thing they established early on that the current them were not related and things didn’t have to stay the same and that the previous Game didn’t have to affect their dynamic.

He still had his fun pretending, though. Cleo and Bdubs sometimes joined in the fun.

Etho was excluded, though.

You’re not really meant to carry over emotions from previous lives, just their knowledge, he’d found, but after that Game, he found Etho particularly enjoyable to kill.

His last and previous life before this, his life, was nothing special. No close friends to speak of, some acquaintances here and there, a fascination with Westerns and futuristic stories… Finding out that in a previous Game he had lived in the desert felt almost fitting. But most of all, his life had been lonely.

He’d hoped this Game wouldn’t continue that trend.

And here he was, alone at the end of the Game, having won, with never anyone he could call a friend.

Sure, he wished things had been different, that he’d had grouped up with someone near the start, before his tasks pulled and pulled him away from people — maybe Pearl, maybe he should’ve moved in with the Mounders back when his task had forced him to be her hype man. Pearl seemed like she’d understand. She won her Game alone too — but it was all too late now.

He turned around and looked at the Secret Keeper.

It had no eyes, yet he felt them all on him as he stared at the symbol on the place where a face would be.

With a deep breath, he readied himself and pushed the left button.

‘Succeed task’

Magic swirled around, five hearts replenished, and a new task dropped on his hand.

‘Win Secret Life’

[harringtonstilinski]

That’s A Bet - Steve Harrington (Smut)

Author: @stilinskiparker Characters: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 5,418 Warnings: fluff, confessions, language (have ya met me), ending is rushed ‘cause it’s 11:16pm and i’m tired. Tropes/AU’s: Best Friends to Lovers | Fake Dating | Soulmate AU | if you can think of any more, let me know! Smut: no | yes; couch sex, m+f (wrap before you tap), oral (f receiving) Requested: Nope. Based off a prompt based off this list A/N: Hi, friends! If you’re under the age of 18, pls do not read. This bitch took me, no joke, like 5.5 hours to write. BUT, I hope you like this! If you do, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

Working at Family Video wasn’t my first choice. I was coerced into getting this job by my best friends and little brother. How my little brother, you ask? Well, he and Steve Harrington started hanging out two years ago when Dart went missing.

Steve and I had been friends for years before we both met Robin Buckley, when they both worked at Scoops Ahoy last summer before the Mind Flayer tried to kill us all.

I worked at the mall last summer, as well. I worked at The Great Cookie. I could see a little bit of Scoops when I looked across the lower level of the mall. And, yes. It was as amazing to work there as one would imagine. The smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies would fill my nostrils every day, and it was amazing! Of course, on my lunch break, I would run over to Scoops to steal a waffle cone before eating my actual lunch from either New York Pizza, Hawkin’s Heroes, Burger King or Imperial Panda.

But, like I said, the Mind Flayer decided to try and kill us all, so it basically destroyed our place of work, so we had to find a new place… or places.

Like I said before, I was coerced into getting this job at Family Video, and working with Steve and Robin was a blast! Their banter made me laugh every single day we worked together, and getting to hang out with them was a plus.

What was negative for me, though, was watching Steve flirt with most of the girls that came in the store. Hearing him set up dates and him telling us about them the next day was heartbreaking to me. Also hearing about the sex he’d had with them was a shot in the foot with a Nerf gun.

So, here I was, leaning against the back of the counter at the front of the store, quietly groaning after Steve had told us about another one of his dates that ended in sex at Lover’s Lake before he’d walked out to his car to retrieve a movie he’d ‘rented’ from the store.

“You okay over there?” Robin asked.

I shook my head before sighing deeply. “Robin, I’m so sex deprived, I would take you to the back room if I was into girls.”

She chuckled, putting her hand on my back. “That’s okay. No offense, but you’re not really my type.”

“That’s perfectly alright.” I groaned, turning my head to look at her. “I swear, I’m gonna fuck the next person that walks through that door.”

Feeling her hand slide off my back and seeing her stand up straight, Robin held her hand out, smirk on her face. “You’re on.”

I stood up straight, putting my hand in hers, shaking it. “Damn straight. Now, to wait for my sex partner.”

The bell ringing above the door caused Robin and I to turn our heads in that direction. “Do you think I’ll be in trouble for not returning these on time when I was supposed to?”

Slouching a little, I scrunched my mouth to the side as Robin started laughing. She patted me on the shoulder before she said, “I definitely have to hear about this one.”

I looked at her with a look that held annoyance. “Ya’know what. Go. Go put returns back.” I turned her and lightly pushed her to go do her job. Turning back to where Steve was standing, I tilted my head in confusion before turning around at the sound of the keyboard clacking.

“Nope, that’s my job today,” I said, walking towards him. “Let me check these back in.” I went to take the tapes from him, my fingers brushing over his. My breath hitched in my throat as the bell rang again above the door.

Looking to see who the culprit was, I noticed it was just a customer. Rage filled me at the sight of the beautiful girl. I tried not to roll my eyes as she walked to her right as I turned back to face Steve. “You got a customer anyway.”

After successfully taking the tapes out of his hands and sitting down at the computer, he heard him lightly scoff.

“Y/N/N, wha–” he started.

“Go!” I breathed, closing my eyes.

After hearing him walk away and ask if there was anything he could help the girl look for, I opened my eyes, feeling a tear roll down my cheek. I wiped it away before looking at the tapes he’d brought back in, confused as to why he’d chosen these movies; The Breakfast Club, Weird Science, Rocky IV, Sixteen Candles, Back to the Future.

I smiled a little and shook my head, typing in Steve’s information and then the title name in the computer, as I did with the other four before getting up and putting them away myself.

“So, how’s Friday night sound?” Steve asked. 

I watched as he went around the counter to the computer, typing in the girl's information so that he could mark the movie as rented. Knowing he wasn’t talking to me, I put my attention back on the movies in my hand, the last one to be put back on the shelf being Back to the Future.

I went to turn around, but the smell of his cologne hit my senses. I tried to take in a quiet breath, but the sound of his voice alerted me that I, in fact, did not.

“We still on for movie night?”

With furrowed brows, I turned to face Steve. “You promised that last customer a date for Friday night.”

Chuckling, he hung his head for a moment before looking back up at me, amusement laced in his eyes. “She said she had a girlfriend.”

With my eyebrows meeting my hairline, my mouth dropped open in shock. “W-well, then. I guess we’re still on.”

With a smile ever present on his face, he said, “Awesome. I’ll ‘rent’ The Breakfast Club again and be at your house around 8?”

“Yeah,” I smiled. “Sounds good.”

Feeling a set of eyes on me as he walked away, I looked over Robin, seeing her mouth the words his house, his house.

“A-actually, Steve?” I walked over to him behind the counter, my fingers laced at my stomach. “Can we do movie night at yours instead? I really don’t wanna hear Dustin asking me if I can take him somewhere or hearing him on his little radio thing talking to Suzie.”

Steve smiled, nodding. “Yeah, that’s actually perfect.”

“Awesome.”

~~~

Wednesday and Thursdays shifts went by extremely slow, whereas Friday’s shift went by sort of fast. I mean, it started out slow, but since it was Friday, everyone was coming to Family Video to rent the latest movies or to rent their most favorite movies of all time.

When my shift was over, I went straight home to shower, shave and change. I tried not to get too dressed up since it was just movie night at Steve’s house, but I put a little bit of makeup on, slightly dressing up my outfit, which consisted of a pair of jeans, Converse and graphic tee.

I packed a bag of clothes for the next day just in case I decided to stay the night. I did that almost all the time when we did movie nights at his house. I would leave the bag in my car just in case things went awry. 

I was nervous about movie night, and understandably why. I was going to try and have sex with my best friend, who I’ve had a crush on for years! It escalated after seeing how he interacted with Dustin during the Dart fiasco. 

Taking a deep breath, I spritzed myself with some perfume I knew Steve liked, grabbed my bag and walked out of my room. I was reaching for my keys when I heard a knock on the door. Confused, I walked to it, looking out of the peephole and saw Steve on the other side.

What he had in his hand confused the shit out of me, so I opened the door, the same confused look on my face revealed to him, making him chuckle.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Steve asked.

“For one, you’re picking me up, and two–” I looked down at his hand. “You have flowers.”

“Those better be for my mother!” Dustin yelled from the kitchen.

“Dustin!”

Steve laughed, ducking his head for a moment before looking back up at me. “They’re, uhh, they’re for you.” Handing me the flowers, he smiled. “And, I thought picking you up would be a better choice since I drive by here anyway to get home.”

Feeling a presence beside me, I heard Dustin say, “No, you don’t. You live on the other side of town.”

“Did you just get off work, or something?” I asked.

Putting his hands up, Steve exclaimed, “Alright, alright!” He sighed, putting his hands down. “I just felt like picking you up for movie night. You always fall asleep during the movie, so I figured that you’d just stay the night.”

“Wait,” Dustin said. “You’re having movie night without me?”

I looked at him, seeing a little bit of hurt in his eyes. “Dusty, it’s nothing against you, I promise. It’s just that– Steve and I haven’t had a movie night to ourselves in a really long time.” I put my hand on his shoulder, leading him to the hallway. “And I have a bet with Robin. Can’t tell you about it, but I have a bet with her.”

“About Steve?”

“Yes,” I nodded, once. “About Steve.”

Dustin smiled. “Well, alright then.”

We walked back to the door, seeing a very confused Steve looking at us. “Everything… okay?”

“Yup, perfect. Now, go. Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

I hugged my little brother, thanking him for letting me have a night alone with Steve. After I pulled away, I grabbed my eyes and shoved them into my bag while walking down the small steps to our door and down the driveway to Steve’s awaiting car.

The ride to Steve’s house was filled with laughter, singing the songs on the radio that we knew, and stolen glances.

Deciding to be a little less humorous, I asked, “This… isn’t going to end up with us at Lover's Lake, is it?”

Letting out a shocked laugh, Steve looked at me. “I didn’t plan on it! It’s just two friends hanging out, watching a movie, right? Like we always do.”

A little hurt by his words, I nodded and looked out the window, quietly saying, “Yeah.”

Noticing the change in my demeanor, he put his hand on my thigh, asking, “Hey. You okay?”

I looked down at his hand, wishing that my thigh could be a permanent spot for it. The words I wanted to confess started to bubble up in my throat, but I swallowed them down and decided on, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired. I’ll perk up once we get to your house. You know how car rides make me a little sleepy.”

Steve nodded, rubbing his thumb on my thigh before pulling his hand away. The action of his thumb caused a shock wave to my core and stomach, as well as a deep breath. This was going to be a long night.

~~~

“Two hits; me hitting you, you hitting the floor. Anytime you’re ready, pal.” As Andrew took Bender down the ground, I felt a tap on my shoulder, so I leaned my head in that direction, eyes still glued to the TV.

“I still don’t get why he did that,” Steve whispered.

“Because Bender’s a burnout, Andrew’s a jock, they don’t like each other,” I explained. “Bender was also making Claire feel very uncomfortable. Now, stop asking and just watch the movie.”

After Bender stabbed the knife into the top of the wood on the chair next to him, I leaned back over to Steve to explain Bender a little further. “He also has a really shitty home life. I’m talking, abuse. It gets explained in just a little bit.”

“Gotcha,” Steve whispered in my ear.

As the movie played on, Steve and I kept stealing glances at each other. I only knew he was stealing them at me because when I would turn my head to look at him, he’d quickly turn his head back in the direction of the movie.

I cleared my throat during the Impression of the Life scene and turned my head towards Steve, looking at the side of his face. “Hey. Uhm. Are your… parents… out of town?”

“They’re always out of town, you know this,” he replied, eyes locked on the tv.

“No, Dad! What about you?! Fuck you!”

“Shit, you were right–”

“Wait, just wait.”

“Looks about the size of a cigar. Do I stutter? See this is what you get in my house when you spill the pain in the garage. Now, I don’t think I need to sit with you fucking dildos anymore.”

Steve cleared his throat as she started bouncing his leg. “Ya’know, uhm… that girl I told you and Robin about last night? The one that didn’t seem interested.”

I sighed and sat up, crossing my arms. “Yeah.”

“Well, I left something out.”

“Hmm. What’s that?” My replies were coming off as short. Every other movie night, Steve and I wouldn’t be sitting as close as we were; his arm around my shoulders, my head resting on his, my farthest leg in between his, almost as if I was sitting with my legs crossed.

I stole a glance at him as he swallowed, seeing him looking down at his lap. 

“She, uh… she wanted me to use a toy on her,” he said. “She said that she hadn’t… ya’know… finished, and that her toy or whatever could do the job.”

“Sounds more like a personal problem to me,” I said. “But at least you two got to have sex, right?”

“Y/N/N, do you know what that does to a man?”

“Awww, Stevie got a bruised ego?” I sassed. It came out harsher than I intended.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I stood up then and grabbed my bag off the chair. “I’m leaving.” I started walking towards the front door as I mumbled, “Robin can win this stupid bet, I don’t care.”

“Hold on,” Steve said. “A bet? What bet?”

I stopped and slightly turned towards him, eyes filled with the tiniest bit of rage. “A sex bet.”

“A sex bet?!”

“Yes, Steve! A fucking sex bet. I’ve been so sex deprived that I told her I was gonna fuck the next person to walk through the door at Family Video, and guess who just so happened to walk through with five VHS tapes. You. I went along with her little bet because I, for one, need sex because I haven’t had it in so long, and two, I’m so in love with you, it’s stupid.”

He looked at me like I was crazy, like he was mad, like he was confused all wrapped into one, but ultimately settled on amused. “You’re in love with me?” “Yes!” I exclaimed. “I’m so goddamn in love with you, I feel like I can’t breathe around you! Every time you’re near and I smell that fucking cologne you wear all the time, I swear to fuck, I wanna drop to my knees when you’re around. And every Tuesday when you come into work and tell us all about the sex you’ve had, I get a little angry every time because I wish in my heart of hearts that it was me you were filling up, making me feel good, making me cry out your name in pleasure during my climax. Making– what are you doing?”

I hadn’t realized that in my ramble and confession that Steve had moved closer to me and removed my bag from my shoulder, dropping it to the floor. “I’m taking you back to the couch,” he said, taking my jaw in his hands.

“Why?” I whispered.

He leaned in closer, whispering, “To make you feel good,” before placing his lips on mine, soft at first, waiting to see if I was going to kiss him back, which I did… quite firm, might I add.

Our lips moved in a messy sync for what felt like ever, before I felt him squat a little, grabbing the backs of my thighs. Without him asking, I jumped, wrapping my arms around his neck before he turned us around and led to the couch, only to turn around again to sit on the piece of furniture.

Before he was able to lean back, I grabbed the bottom of his shirt that wasn’t tucked into jeans and pulled up, lifting the material up and over his head to discard it on the floor by his feet. Our lips locked again in a few more messy kisses before Steve’s tongue made its way into my mouth, exploring. 

It was as if we were one, moving almost all parts of our bodies in sync with the other. Tongues not fighting for dominance, hands roaming on shoulders and arms, neck and hair. He put his hands in my hair, pulling just a tab, causing me to take a sharp intake of breath.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I forgot you were tender headed.”

I chuckled, “It’s okay, I’m okay.”

He smiled, saying, “Good,” before putting his lips back on my own just to move his lips to my cheek, jawline and neck, where he searched for my sweet spot; at the junction where my neck and shoulder meet.

I gasped in pleasure, grinding my core down on his denim covered length, a groan sounding him from. I pulled back, hand over my mouth as I looked in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Steve looked confused with a smile on his face. “Why?” I moved my mouth to my hair, pushing some of my hair behind my ear as I asked, “I didn’t hurt you?”

Tilting his head back on the couch, he said, “No.” Picking his head up, he looked me deep in my eyes, his smile never faltering. Chuckling, he said, “It felt good.”

“Oh,” I said, putting my arms down, fingers landing at his belt buckle. “Okay, well… do you wanna continue?”

I looked at him as he put his hand on my cheek. “You have a bet to win,” he whispered before kissing me once more.

I giggled into the kiss, making the both of us smile into it. “It’s like you’re kiss deprived or something.”

He chuckled, moving his hands to the top of my jeans where the bottom of my shirt also sat inside of. “I can think of another set of lips I can kiss.”

I feigned a gasp, eyes still closed, mouth still on his. “Steven Harrington.”

“Y/N Henderson.”

I opened my eyes, his still closed. “Well. What are you waiting for?”

That made his eyes open real quick, his fists pulling my shirt up and over my head, revealing the white bra I had put on after my shower earlier. As I went for Steve’s neck, he went for my shoulder, pressing kisses along it while sliding the strap off my shoulder.

“Take it off,” I breathed. “Take the fucking bra off.”

He chuckled, expertly unclasping my bra. I huffed a breath as he did so, putting my hands on his shoulders, pushing myself to look him in the eyes. “If you keep laughing, I’ll walk my ass home.”

He chuckled… again, but gripped my hips with the tiniest bit of force. “I’ll stop, baby, I promise.”

Stunned by the pet name, I raised a brow. “Baby? So, we’re at that stage in the frien– relation– us.”

“Yes,” he said. “Unless you’re just looking to fuck.”

I feigned thinking on it for a moment before yelping, Steve grabbing the button of my jeans, pulling me forward, also causing me to giggle. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Yes, I am looking to fuck, but I also want to be with you. You’re it for me.” I put my hand on his cheek, bringing our foreheads together, eyes closed. I whispered, “You’ve always been it for me, baby.”

The kiss we shared next wasn’t like the others we’d been having, all hungry and fervent and shit. No, this kiss… this kiss was slower, much more passionate. Open mouthed, but not rushed. Taking more time to explore each other's mouths.

As we kissed, I took my bra off the rest of the way, the material having fallen to my elbows at the talk we’d had just moments prior. Feeling Steve’s bulge in his jeans, I decided that now would be the next time to take his belt off of him and unbutton his jeans to release the strain I knew he was feeling.

After I unbuckled his belt, he placed a hand on my back, sitting me up straighter to cup one of my breasts, bringing me forward to place his mouth on my nipple.

“Steve,” I moaned, one hand going to his hair and the other pulling the belt out of the loops. I dropped the belt to the floor, putting my free hand in his hair as he lapped at my nipple with his tongue.

As he switched breasts, he looked up at me and placed his lips on mine for a wet, chaste kiss as the hand he’d been cupping my breast with covered it completely. Removing the hand closest to the hand on my breast, I placed it on top of his, his fingers spreading to attempt to lace our fingers together.

When he was satisfied with the pleasure he was giving me through my breasts, he bit his lip and wrapped his arms around me, flipping us to the side so that my back hit the couch, all of those movements causing me to giggle.

His lips went right back on mine as he popped the button on my jeans. He placed his fingers on the inside of the material, ready to pull them down my legs. Shoes were long discarded by the door the moment we arrived at his house about an hour prior, movie long forgotten about.

Instead of heading south like I thought he was going to, he instead moved north, towards my face. Giving a light kiss, he said, “I’m gonna make you feel good, I promise.”

“Then do it already,” I said. 

Steve gave one last kiss on my lips before moving down, placing kisses between my breasts and down my stomach to the top of my jeans. He pulled the denim down, kissing the newly exposed skin as he did so.

Grabbing at my panties as he went, he stopped kissing once he got right above where the tops of my panties would sit. He lightly tapped at my bum, silently asking me to lift it, so I did, making it easier for him to slide the rest of the materials down my legs and to the floor.

The look he was giving made me a little insecure, so as I tried to cover everything exposed, he laced our fingers together, looking at me with the most sincere look he’d giving me tonight. “Don’t ever hide from me,” he said. “You’re beautiful. The most beautiful girl–”

“You’ve been with?”

“In the world,” he whispered. He looked down at my area and back at me, a smirk on his face. “You shave your vagina?”

“One, never say the word vagina again, and two, yes. It’s a personal preference.”

“If I can’t say vagina, what word can I say? Pussy?”

“Oohhhh, who knew Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington had a dirty mouth,” I sassed.

He shook his head and looked back down, kissing the top of my pussy. “So soft,” he whispered. “Bet it tastes good, too.”

As he grabbed the underside of my thigh to spread my legs open, I whispered, “Then maybe you should have a taste.”

With no hesitation, Steve dipped down and kissed the very top of my slit, bringing it tongue out to lightly lick where he’d kiss before going further south to my clit and entrance. He licked from the bottom of my entrance right up to my clit, where his tongue found a home. 

“Oh, my– fuck,” I moaned, placing my hand on the crown of his head. My free hand went to one of my own breasts, cupping it. It felt as if I had died and went to Heaven when his tongue moved from my clit to my entrance, lapping up the juices I was producing. 

He pulled back a little to say, “Taste so good,” before diving back in, causing me to arch my back a little.

I was done for when he inserted two fingers into my pussy, pumping in and out, stretching me for what I knew was to come. “Steve,” I moaned. “I’m so close to cumming. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna–” I moaned, my pussy tightening on his fingers. He never stopped until I pushed his head away, repeating the word “Okay” like a prayer.

As I was catching my breath, Steve kissed his way back up my stomach and breasts until his lips met mine, the two of us sharing a passionate kiss.

While essentially making out, I unbuttoned his jeans and started to push them down his legs until I couldn’t anymore. I let out a whine mid-kiss, a wholehearted laugh coming from the half-naked man above me.

He stood up, removing his jeans and boxers, grabbing his length to stroke it. I went to sit up to do the work for him and take him in my mouth, he shook head, crawling back on top of me. “No. Tonight is about you. I’m making you feel good.”

“But–”

“You can work on me another night,” he said, voice so soft, I thought I missed what he said.

I nodded, putting my hands on his cheeks for another slow, passionate kiss. At the same time our lips met, the head of his penis met my entrance, sliding up to my clit and back down to my entrance before doing it a couple of more times.

Once he was satisfied with how wet got himself, he looked me in the eyes, silently asking me if this was something I still wanted to do, so I nodded because, of course I did!

He looked back at himself, and watched as he slid into me, a quiet groan of pleasure coming from him. He huffed out a small laugh, looking back at me. “Taking me like a champ.”

“You’re the biggest I’ve ever had, Steve,” I replied, hands smoothing back some of his hair. Deciding to add a little humor, I added, “Just don’t cum in me too fast. I can already feel you trying not to bust a nut.”

He laughed as pulled out some just to push back in a little harder than I had expected him to, a loud moan pouring out of me. “Say shit like that again, and it’ll be harder.”

All I did was look him in the eye, breathing, “I like it hard. But, seeing as this is our first time, can we try… maybe a little slower? Still hard, but not rough?”

Steve nodded, placing his forehead against mine as he started thrusting in and out of me, slow at first, gradually going a little faster and a little harder, but not too hard. It was that perfect hard thrust. I can’t really describe it. He was making me feel too good!

With one foot on the ground and the other leg bent on the cushions of the couch, Steve stood to the best of his ability, grabbing my hips and pulling my bottom up off the couch, ever so slightly.

He reached a spot that, even I never knew existed.

“Oh, my god, Steve,” I yelled in pleasure. “I’m gonna cum again!”

“Me, too, baby, me too,” he grunted.

Hearing the new pet name sent me over the edge without realizing it. It didn’t even register to me that I yelled out his name, probably loud enough for the whole damn neighborhood to hear.

I was too busy coming down from my second high that I didn’t even notice that Steve pulled out and started jerking himself, sending white hot stream of cum along the top of my pussy.

When I finally opened my eyes, having closed them during my climax, I saw Steve stand fully, both feet on the carpet of the living room. Looking down, I scooped up a dot of cum, bringing my finger to my mouth, smiling once it hit my tongue. “Taste so good.”

He shook head, smile ever present on his face as he turned away to retrieve a warm, damp washcloth to help clean us up with. He helped me put my panties back on, but gave me his shirt to wear as he put his boxers and jeans back on.

When we finally sat down and cuddled each other the best we could on the couch, we caught the last little bit of the movie, watching as Bender walked across the football field, fist in the air.

Steve put on Sixteen Candles, knowing that that movie was also a favorite of mine. At the scene where Sam and Randy are looking at Carole Mulford in the locker room showers, Steve and I decided to lay down on the couch, sleep hitting us like a bus.

He laid down first, letting me lay on top of him, my ear to his chest listening to his heartbeat. The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was feeling a blanket cover me, a kiss to the top of my head, Steve telling me good night, and Sam screaming on the phone with Randy the night after the dance.

~~~

The following day, Steve and I woke up at the sound of his father yelling at the both of us. We quickly grabbed our clothes and headed upstairs to his bedroom, laughing once the door was shut.

“I thought they were out of town!” I giggled.

“Must’ve come back early,” he said, putting a clean shirt on.

I put my jeans back on, and buttoned them before turning to the mirror and fluffing my hair out a little bit. “I forgot to remove my makeup last night. Damn.”

“Yeah, well, we were a little preoccupied.”

I smiled at him, turning to wrap my arms around his neck after having walked the few steps over to him. “I’d like to be that preoccupied again.”

“Oh, really?” he asked, kissing me before I could nod. Activities that ensued after caused us to be late for work. The two of us piled into the car, and he took me home for a few seconds so that I could retrieve my work vest.

Once I was back in the car, Steve drove us to work, where we were getting chewed out by Keith for being late. He went ignored, though, as he always chewed us out for even clocking in on time.

Robin, Steve and I had our own little private meeting about what would be going down at the video rental store, the three of us ultimately deciding to go about our normal jobs; Robin shelving returns, Steve with the customers, and myself on computer to put in the returns and call customers about their past due returns.

During a break Robin had from putting returns away, she leaned on the counter next to the computer, causing me to smile.

“What do you want, Robin?”

“How’d it go last night?” she asked.

“And this morning?” I said, looking at her from the corner of my eye.

Her face lit up with delight and happiness, but also with sadness. “That means I lost?!”

“Lost what?” 

I looked over and saw my little brother standing at the front of the counter, what looked like to be a shirt in his hand. “Dusty, what is that?”

“Clean shirt,” he said, tossing it to me. I caught it as he said, “Ya’know. Since you and Steve fucked last night.”

My eyes went as wide as saucers, mouth dropping open as I said, “How did you–”

“Bye, I love you!”

“That little shit.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! okay, so, i just wanted to let anyone know that was curious while reading what the word area means in this type of fic. i used the word area because that’s what i describe to my daughter about the body part her and i share. i know that actually teaching her that we have a vagina is important, but she’s 5.5 years old, and that’s just my parenting style. if she has any questions about it when she gets older and hears the word, then i’ll let her know that we have a vagina. but enough with my little rant. let me know what you thought about this! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.

Additional Notes: i saw a post in the steve harrington x reader tag that said if you’re gonna write a smut where s.h x reader get caught doing the nasty, don’t let it be one of the younger s.t. characters. let it be like a parent or something. and i totally agree with that. so, from here on out, all my smut fics will not have dustin or one of other kids walking in on s.h. x reader having wrestle time. at the end, dustin says he knows about s.h. x reader having sex. he called robin and coerced it out of her, lol. THAT’S how he knows.

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak

Steve Harrington Taglist: none yet!​

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

Italics wouldn’t let me tag!

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @stilinskiparker.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on July 7, 2022

[nerdieforpedro]

Weekend Update

12/03/2023

Nerdie, you’re making this a thing now?

Yes! I have to keep ya’ll updated on what’s going on.

Well, what did you read this week?

Many wonderful things:

I will again sing the praises of @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin three part series “When My Time Comes Around.” You’ll feel all the emotions and be thankful that you read something that touches you deep in your soul. 😭 She also attacked my heart again on Frankie Friday with bittersweet angst in Tender is the Night. I'm a fan of the melancholic greatness that is Angie.

So...you like reading about sad things?

There's more to it than that. Just go read her fics! Then you'll know.

Tommy Miller fans unite! @musings-of-a-rose is continuing to feed our younger Miller brother delusions with her series “Falling Slowly.” The slow burn romance is one of the trope I really dig. And Gabriel Luna always. 🫠 Dig into some Tommy…

Nerdie, you’re doing so well, don’t jinx it.

I mean, I'm not wrong. Whatever, moving on...

I also read Honey Stained Hands by the sweet and deceptively naughty @undercoverpena too. Seems to be a Joel fix this week. Post-outbreak. The reader manages to make honey and different sweets in Jackson. Telling ya’ll anymore is a spoiler. Go read it!

There’s also another grizzled man this week. Tim Rockford who in the capable hands of the same writer @secretelephanttattoo who brought us Marcus Pike (Doughnut Debauchery) and the reason I’ll never look at doughnuts the same, I’m sure she’ll find many a use for his gun holsters. She began her new series “Undercover.” I’m throughly looking forward diving into more of the chapters as she releases them.

@linzels-blog wrote another Din Djarin fic that is equal parts sensual and sweet. It’s called Safe to Touch. I’m rather fond of our intrepid Mendalorian and him exploring his body with someone he loves is a treat.

Speaking of which, who doesn’t like baked goods? We’re also being fed by @avastrasposts as she starts her A Baker’s Dozen series with Pedro Pascal characters. Her first one is about our favorite trash cuddle panda Dieter Bravo. It’s adorable. 🥰 Such fluff.

Nerdie, you actually read fluff? This is surprising.

What do ya’ll take me for? I told you, 80% smut. This is in the 20%. Geez. 🙄

I will say though, this next one, 100% smut, not watered down, will burn your throat and you’ll love it and want more. You’ll want it other places. 😘

Welp, we knew it was gonna end here eventually.

Yes! @morallyinept had me removing my socks and pants in an effort to cool down, it did not help. I will think of this version of Dieter Bravo when I’m out at night. Heck, maybe as I walk across the parking lot to get in my car after a shift. That honestly would be the perfect time… long story short, wild back alley sex with both Dieter and the reader being complete and utter lust filled humans. It is called, Back Alley Bang if you enjoy Pedro Pascal characters smut, it’s required reading or at least highly recommended.

Anything new for you this week Nerdie?

Session Two of my “Sard’ika Sessions” will be out on early Wednesday AM in EST. Session One and all sessions will be linked to the Sard’ika Sessions Masterlist. I’m currently writing sessions 3 and 4 from my notebook because I wrote them down. Wild what you think of between the hours of 12 mid and 4am.

I finally started writing for our Pickled Peña prompt! I might even have it in on time. If you’d like to join in, see all the details here. I’m on the fence about smut, odd I know. 🤨

I also started a Benny Miller fic (likely fluff with food) and a Christmas fic with Joel and Layla (on OFC I wrote three fics on a few months ago - I love them very much ❤️). Joel and Layla are on my Masterlist.

Anything outside of fanfiction Nerdie? Please say that’s not the only thing you do. 🙄

I have a job you know. I actually worked this weekend. I visited my mom while she had a cold earlier this week. She’s very into Tom Hiddleston. Not a bad choice, I too appreciate his accent and baritone voice. She enjoys his dancing. 🕺🏽 I’d watching Loki with her and finally got her to watch Andor - she liked it but called it “low budget Star Wars” because she didn’t know any of the actors. I swear she’s so goofy. I love her. She also said that Andor grew on her like The Mandalorian and she wants to see more. I may be able to get her on board with both Lunas eventually. 😝

I’ve been working on my Statistics class. It’s difficult but I’m pushing through. 😵

Finally watched two Garrett Hedland movies this week! Country Strong and Four Brothers. The first was bittersweet but I liked it. He did sing a lot which was wonderful. The second one I’ve seen multiple times with little brother (he loved the movie when we were younger.) Garrett looked so young! It was from 2005 though.

Well Nerdie, your week sounds full. Good luck!

Have a great week everyone!

I jammed to while some music while looking at a picture of Gabriel Luna that @musings-of-a-rose sent me because she knows me well and is always willing to share: 😍

One of the songs was:

Stay safe and feel better to all those who are feeling under the weather,

Love Nerdie ❤️

[bullet-prooflove]

Looked At Death In A Tarot Card - Horacio Carrillo x Reader

For @the-hinky-panda who supplied me with this fantastic little prompt!

Tagging: @616wilsons @mysun-n-stars @xmoonknightlyx @nessamc @crazy4chickennuggets @annetje @mysoulisasunflower @littleone65 @thesandbeneathmytoes @glorieux92 @supersanelyromantic @mirabee

Horacio was lying on his back, the concrete hard underneath his back as his head span. His vision blurred as he stared up at the stars pinpricking the night sky above. His ears were ringing, from the explosion, the gunshots. It was like church bells, drowning out the sound of everything else around him. His chest was on fire, the oxygen rushing out of his lungs as Escobar’s face appeared above him. He saw the gun in his hand, before meeting the other man’s gaze.

He saw the fear in those eyes, the fury and the terror and he laughed.

There was a horror in Escobar’s expression, because this wasn’t the reaction he expected. He had thought Carrillo would beg instead he cackled like a witch from one of the remote towns on the fringes of Columbia. The sound was haunting, it grated on his nerves, and he knew it would fill his nightmares long after the Colonel was dead.

Those dark eyes of his were like burning coals, singeing into Escobar as his hand began to tremble.

I got in your head, he seemed to say without speaking. I became the monster in your dreams.

“I kill my monsters.” He wanted to say.

But Carrillo was still laughing.

He hissed as the bullet grazed his forearm, seared through his skin. He dropped the weapon as blood erupted from the wound, scoring his skin. Already he was being moved on by his men, too dangerous they said. He could still hear that dreadful noise in his ears, and he knew that Carrillo would wreck vengeance for tonight.

“Run.” Horacio spat, his arm outstretched, his fingers grazing the rough surface of Escobar’s gun. “Run and I will hunt you down like a dog.”

Escobar turned and Horacio caught that look in his eyes. He could taste the other man’s panic on his tongue. It was raw, visceral and Horacio knew even if he died tonight, he had won.

He felt the darkness closing in, tinging at the edges of his vision and he thought of you. He remembered this morning, wrapped up in your sheets, your lips on his as he made love to you with abandonment. He remembered the sensation of bliss as he drove you to the pinnacle of pleasure, the noise you made you climaxed, the euphoria he felt when you dragged him over the edge with you. He kept these thoughts close to his heart as he felt himself begin to slip away.

There was a sudden abrupt pressure on his chest, and he snarled, eyes snapping open at the agonising intrusion. There was a flurry of voices, he heard yours clear as day as you pushed down on his ribs even harder, blood staining your fingers.

“Mi Amor.” He snapped. “What are you doing?”

Your eyes met his and he saw the universe in them, the moon, the stars, and everything else in between. He also saw the ferocity, the determination and of course that stubbornness. You were going to drag him back from the afterlife, kicking and screaming if you had to.

“Saving your life.”

Love Horacio Carrillo? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[trulybetty]

oct' x 05 - autumnal

Prompt: autumnal Pairing: dieter bravo x gn!reader Word Count: 581 Warnings: nothing here but un-beta'd Dieter Summary: everyone go say thankyou to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for today's entry! I was stuck for the first time on how to take a prompt and not only did they give me this great idea, but the last line which I absolutely love. So of course I had to drop our favourite trash panda in here for her!

x. masterlist

It had been the day from hell.

Quite literally with the record breaking temperatures the summer sun had brought to LA.

It started when the coffee machine packed in, a minor issue, you’d stop at the cute coffee shop down the street from work. A great idea in theory, if everyone else hadn’t had the same idea. The heat had everyone swarming to whatever establishment was cranking out the AC.

Even the Gap in The Grove had been jam packed with people evading the heat from the pictures Libby had sent you. Then came the missed deadline at work when you hadn’t been cc’d on an important email, the unyielding traffic on the way home, and to cap it all off, your messages to Dieter had gone unanswered. 

As you walked into the house, you were hit by a blast of cold air and the gentle hum of the air conditioner. The contrast from the sweltering outside was so extreme that it left you momentarily disoriented. Checking the thermostat to find it cranked down as low as it could go.

“Dieter?” you called out, but received no response.

Dropping your bag and kicking off your shoes you heaved a sigh. You suspected he was holed up in the studio with this week's audio book of choice in his ears as he painted.

Before you could contemplate turning the AC up to a more reasonable level you heard a familiar sound that had no place in the middle of summer.

A crackling fire.

Rounding the corner to the living room you were greeted by the sight of the room's large TV screen above the grand fireplace filled with a looping video of a lit fireplace, flames flickering as wood crackled.

And there, in front of the faux fire, was Dieter—wearing the most obnoxious fuzzy socks, his signature robe, and baggy pyjama pants, looking like the epitome of autumnal comfort.

For a moment you stood there, between disbelief and laughter. Realising you had arrived in the room, Dieter turned in his seat on the sofa, his socked fit on the absurd novelty coffee table you’d given up arguing over, “You're home!”

You couldn't help it; you burst into laughter. The absurdity of the day, the bizarre sight before you, and the sheer unpredictability that was Dieter Bravo all combined into one glorious release.

“So, you drew the line at the actual fireplace?” you asked, curious at what could have possibly stopped him from pulling a truly Dieter move.

He turns to you with a grin, that ever-so-endearing twinkle in his eyes. “Well, considering the last time I tried to make a real fire, it resulted in the fire department and TMZ on the doorstep and me almost a human candle. I thought this,” he waved his arms at the TV, “was the safer option for us both.”

You shook your head, still chuckling, as you moved to sit beside him. 

Taking your hand, Dieter kissed the back of it softly. “Bad day I hear.”

“The worst,” you admitted.

“Well,” he said, adjusting his fuzzy socks with a flourish, “let's make the night better, shall we?”

Nuzzling your head into the crook of his arm, you took a deep breath, the scent of his robe comforting and familiar, like home.

“You're unbelievable, you know?” you muttered, but there was no denying the fondness in your voice.

He shrugged with a wry smile, “Nah, I’m just feeling very autumnal vibes in the middle of July babe.”