#also I am so thankful that my first books given to me to read were panchatantra

[ramayantika]

When you read Valmiki Ramayana and see how the processes and preparation for Ram's coronation you can't help but feel terrible for Ram.

People all excited to welcome Ram. He hears some people talking how Ram on ascending the throne would mean peace and prosperity for many years to come. Dignitaries have come from all over the country, like a full public event. Ram looks so regal only to let go all of it in a few moments unaware of his mother Kaikeyi's intentions

And this man I know why our elders would advise us to look upto Ram. This man after getting a terrible blow and getting an exile akin to a death sentence from his mother who loved him dearly and was even so happy with the news of Ram's coronation. He is then asked to leave the palace immediately for 14 years like never once come back for 14 years.

Keeping myself in Ram's position to not come back home once for so many years would kill me. I don't think I would give any thought about promises dharma or karma then when I would be told to go away.

And do you all realize that he was giving up an empire which was rightfully his? To learn from Ram, I think we must learn to keep ourselves in his position and think what our step would be and see the difference between Ram's behaviour and thoughts and us.

It's like you are told that you will have a promotion at work and get a high position. Everything is set. The people, your new cabin, your new post everything and once you come to office to begin your duties you are told that you won't get promotion without stating what you did wrong or where your efforts lacked.

Tell me how would you feel?

This is similar to Ram's case too. For him promotion would mean to be the king and take control of a grand empire. You must see how Valmiki describes Ayodhya. I would love to live there.

And when he is walking back to his own palace (ram and sita lived in a separate palace away from Dasharath's) he doesn't use the parasol and the chariot.

Today every person whom I talk too regarding Ram, I see everyone getting angry and pointing faults at him.

This is epic Kaikeyi behaviour. Kaikeyi after getting her mind poisoned not once does she think of ram and her relationship with him, his qualities, etc. We too do the same thing. All this while I always said Ram shouldn't have done this should not have done that why should Ram be idealized?

Growing up I realise why dada dadis would tell us to be like Ram. You can be steady and calm in good situations how do you keep your self steady and calm when life is being unfair to you? We all slip into sadness, submit to grief and anger and worse into all sorts of terrible addictions to cope with it.

And what did we do to Ram? Forget learning from him, we politicise him. Ram is a tool for vote bank, Jai Shri Ram is a war cry and shit like that.

Kaikeyi was unfair to Ram and so are we. We are no better.

Just like what my elders did, I am going to tell my children and the upcoming generation about Rama and to be like him.

Jai Shri Ram 🙏

[neil-gaiman]

hi neil. i've held off on writing this message for a bit because i didn't know if i could get it out or not.

i work in a senior healthcare facility. not a nurse or anything, i actually just serve food to the residents, but it's given me the ability to get to know a lot of the people that live there. because of this, i was able to befriend a wonderful lady named sally. she would always come talk to me while i served up the meals, and we'd have nice chats. she spent most of her time reading books, since she didn't like to do many of the activities with the other residents, and since she loved books with mystery and suspense, i loaned her my copy of american gods, thinking that she'd enjoy it. and she did! i loved it when she'd come talk to me about the chapter she'd just read, our little chats about wednesday, just everything. i was happy that she liked the book.

our chats kind of tapered off after awhile, and we didn't talk as much. she's had my book for well over a year now, which i hadn't minded, but she eventually started picking up our chats again, about the book. but she was talking about how she had just started reading it and that she was really interested in it so far. i came to realize some time later that sally was actually just finally showing signs of dementia, which was saddening for me to hear, but it's one of the heavy realities of working in a facility like this. she had always struggled with some memory and speech issues, but i'd always chalked it up to her older age.

anyway. i am saddened by this onset, but at the same time, i am also finding some strange comfort in knowing that she will come up to me at breakfast, wanting to talk to me about american gods, because she's forgotten that she's already read most of it, and she just reads the first few chapters over and over. she doesn't leave her room without it, she brings it to the table with her every day. when she leaves the facility with her family for an outing, she brings it with her. i am just. so comforted knowing that your book i loaned her a year ago is a source of joy and delight for her, and continues to be so over and over. i know i'll never get that book back, and i won't ever try to get it back from her, even if she stops reading it. i want her to keep it.

i now have a streak regarding losing my books that you've written, i'm two for two now, haha

idk. i'm just really kind of overwhelmed today by all the emotions surrounding it and i'm just happy that you wrote something that she likes so much, and that we talk about it even though she doesn't remember that we've talked about it a dozen times before. i love each and every chat with her so much, and i want to keep having them with her for as long as i can. thank you for your work.

Some of the happiest hours of my life were spent with a friend with advanced Parkinson's dementia, sitting on his porch with him, both of us reading. And he read the same few pages over and over and it was okay.

[babygorewhore]

*Bambi’s Covenant*

Spencer takes you home after work only to discover that the FBI’s sweet young good girl intern has a collection of…naughty romance novels in your bedroom. W.C. 1.3k something

Requested by anonymous but I added my own spin! I hope you enjoy! Thank you to my love @xxbimbobunnyxx for hyping me up and helping me!

Warnings! Preachers daughter! Spitting! Praise! Choking! Oral! Fem receiving! Unprotected sex!

“Thank you for bringing me home, Spencer. You’re the sweetest.” You tell him as you step through the house. Spencer nodded and shrugged.

“Yeah!! No problem. Is your dad home?” He questions and you shake your head.

“No. Dad is at church preparing for the sermon tomorrow. My car is still at the shop.” You smile gently and gesture to the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

Spencer checked his watch. “Oh, well I-i probably shouldn’t intrude.” You click your tongue and remove your pink converse. Ribbon laces neatly untied as you extend a pink painted finger nail.

“I insist. Even if you don’t stay, let me get you something for the road.” Spencer followed you to another room, taking in the family photos and glitter decorations of stickers.

“Does your dad ever…lecture you about working for the FBI? Given that he’s a preacher and you’re his only child. I’d imagine he didn’t take well to that.” Spencer mentally flinched at his own blunt questions. Sometimes he spoke without thinking but you sat down at the barstool. Your white skirt pooling around your thighs.

“Dad still worries. But I still go to church and I read my Bible every night before bed.” You bat your lashes at Spencer and he blushes.

“Just a little angel.”

That was your nickname by the team. You were so sweet, gentle and everyone wanted to protect you. You were the youngest member but it was a proud accomplishment. You were an intern and under the careful instruction of JJ. Spencer also took a liking to your quiet, meek nature. Sometimes he saw you praying or on the phone with your dad.

“You guys are the only ones who call me that.” You snap your fingers as you remember something, “Oh! Spencer, your copy of the book you loaned me is in my bedroom. I would go get it but I need to water the plants. It’s the first door on the right.” He stutters as you rush off outside but he slowly steps in the hallway and moves to your door.

Your room was as he expected. White and pink with soft pillows. Stuffed animals. A desk with a bible, notebooks and your clothes neatly hung. Spencer’s eyes focused on your bookshelf and surprise took him as he saw the titles of several…

Dark romance books.

He didn’t just read nonfiction novels. Spencer also had a secret collection of fantasies he read about in the comfort of his own home. He bit his full lower lip when he traced his gaze to a particular book that was known for its kinky content.

A sweet girl like you was into that sort of thing?

Spencer always viewed you as sort of innocent despite the horrors on the job. You never even cursed. You were as cute and gentle as…Bambi.

Yet Spencer felt his dick twitch as he thought about you lying in your pretty bed reading naughty books. Maybe even touching yourself afterwards.

He stepped closer to your dresser, peeking over his shoulder as he opened it and he groaned. Spencer saw an array of toys. Small vibrators, plugs, Lacey panties and bras with a bow in the middle.

“Spencer?” He spun around at the sound of your voice and shuffled guiltily as you stared at him. Your drawer was wide open and you rushed over to shut it.

“Why were you looking in there?”

“I-I-“ He blinked rapidly as you squeezed in between him and the dresser.

“Well? Spencer?”

“I didn’t know you were into those kinds of books.” Spencer admitted and tried to change the subject. His attraction to you grew as you stood taller.

“Yeah I am. You think I’m just a Bible thumping prude?” Spencer glanced at the cross above your chest.

“I didn’t think the preacher's daughter even knew what these things were…” He reached down and gently pulled you closer with a finger, using the necklace to tug you. His lips hovered above yours.

“I didn’t think a nerd who liked to play chess in his spare time knew anything about fucking.” You whispered back and glanced at his parted mouth.

You part your own lips and stick out your tongue. Spencer knew immediately what you were asking for. He spit inside, the drool coating your gloss and you moaned. Spencer crushed his mouth to yours in a heated kiss. You buried your hands in his hair as he walked you backwards to bed. Spencer crawled on top of you without breaking the kiss.

“Wrap your hand around my neck,” You whine as he latches his lips to your jaw and his hand drifts up your torso. He obliges and squeezes your throat.

“Doesn’t surprise me you like that scene. Where he chokes her, spits in her mouth. Not such an angel are you?” Spencer rasps and uses his other palm to hike up your skirt. Exposing your white thong.

“Mmm, I’m your angel.” You plead with big eyes and he nods. He kisses down your neck, chest and works his way down to hover above your pelvis.

“Yeah? You want me to worship you like you worship God? You want me to eat your pussy?” You claw the blankets and nod.

“Yes, please! Please!” You beg and Spencer yanks off your panties, taking in your glistening cunt and he inhales sharply.

“I knew it would be pretty. I need to taste it…” He mumbles and presses his head against it. Spencer flattens his tongue against your clit, savoring the precum leaking from your hole as he laps at it like a dog. He moans and grinds down on the bed as your sweet sounds. “That feel good, Angel?” He asks.

“Uh huh!” You squeak as he buries his whole face in. Your fingers gather his hair tightly as Spencer messily sucks your center between his lips and laps at it with his tongue.

“Jesus! Fuck!” You sputter and Spencer pulls back and spits on your cunt.

“You’re such a good girl, princess. You’re so fucking sweet. I knew you’d be.” He worked his way back up, pulling down his pants and boxers. Spencer’s impressive sized cock slapped against his thigh and your mouth watered.

“Fuck me. Please, please, please!” You whined and panted.

Spencer nodded, wrapping his hand around your throat again.”Gonna recreate all those filthy scenes, Angel.” He pushed inside your pussy, his dick filling you to the brim and you mewled, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Fuck, Spencer, you feel so good. Keep going, keep going, I needed it so bad. Don’t stop!” You whined and threw your head back as he gave you a hard thrust. Spencer tightened his hold.

“Yeah? You want me to keep going? Your pussy is so tight, been wanting to do this forever.” He feels his release coming as the headboard hits the wall.

“Cum in me. Please, cum in me. Don’t want you to pull out! Stuff me full.” Your eyes water as your stomach tightens, a familiar feeling rising from nights with your vibrator as it explodes.

You cream all over his dick, a pornographic sound escaping you as Spencer’s own cum mixes with yours. Ropes of fluid coat your insides and push out from your entrance. He pulls out, admiring his dripping cock and fucks it back in.

Your eyes roll back as you’re overstimulated.

“That’s my girl, you’re being such a good Bambi taking it. You wanna keep being a good girl?” Spencer prods as he continues moving inside you. You nod rapidly as your arms wrap around his shoulders.

“I’m gonna cum in you over and over again, plug it up then make you go to church like that tomorrow. Then you can pray to me instead.” Spencer buried his face in your neck and pulled your skin between his teeth.

Thank god he discovered your secret.

@oceandriveab @oceanblvd111 @starkeysprincess @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx

[ithebookhoarder]

your Eloise fics have me in a chokehold! If you would I need an eloise and fem reader first kiss moment! friends to lovers type best

First Kiss (Eloise Bridgerton x F!Reader) 

A/N: Well, I love me a good ol' 'friends to lovers' trope, so thank you for sending this in! I am in full S3 mode. 💕Also, side note, but I see this request existing in the same universe/as a prequel to my other piece 'This Love' - which you don't have to read to understand this but if you want to, then check it out.

Warnings: Beginnings of smut, implied homophobia, era-appropriate sexism (let me know if I missed any)

Masterlist

"What if the way you hold me is actually what's holy? If long-suffering propriety is what they want from me, They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly, I choose you and me religiously..."

('Guilty as Sin' - Taylor Swift)

“I simply don’t see the appeal of such things.” 

“You don’t?” 

“No. What could be so appealing about kissing?” Eloise muttered, staring down at the couple on the other side of the library in which you had both hidden. 

Fed up with ducking dance partners for one evening, you and the Bridgerton girl (who had been your closest friend since infancy) had escaped the ballroom of the Smith-Smyth family town house and the festivities being held there. Of course, like most nights spent trying to hide from the Ton and its never ending scrutiny of young females, the pair of you had sought refuge in the library of the home. After all, it was typically the room least likely to be occupied, and had more than enough dark, quiet corners for you two to hide in, curled up with a good book until it was time to go home. 

It was far superior to being passed from one suitor to the next like some curiosity to be examined, admired, and appraised. 

Tonight had been no different so far, with the pair of you taking the first opportunity to bolt and conceal yourselves on the upper gallery of the impressive library. However, you had only been alone maybe a handful of minutes when the door had burst open and a rather amorous young couple had staggered through, a tangle of limbs and lips. 

Both you and Eloise had barely had time to even realise what had happened, let alone plan any kind of escape. Unfortunately, the upper level - whilst more private and out of sight - was only accessible via a spiral staircase. There was no way on earth either of you could make it down said staircase or all the way to the door without being seen.

You didn’t know who would be most embarrassed in that instance - you or the couple caught in a compromising position. That, and you’d also made the fundamental error of waiting too long to make such a decision and announce yourselves. 

As such, you’d had no choice but to scamper back into the darkness and pray the couple either didn’t hear the hushed shuffling above them, or that they simply left … and soon. However, given the groans and moans coming from the pair as they pawed at one another, you didn’t think they were in any rush to return to the ballroom anytime soon. 

 “I mean… mama says it depends on the person you’re kissing,” Eloise continued, eyebrow raised quizzically as she leaned closer to the railings as if trying to get a better look. “That if you’re with the right one then it all just feels ...” 

“Natural?” 

The word fell from your lips easily without a second thought. 

“Perhaps,” Eloise continued, tilting her head as the couple’s kisses began to move from their lips to other parts of their bodies. 

The sight was enough to make you blush, a sudden ache awakening inside you. It was an ache that had become strangely familiar to you in the past months, even if you would never confess such a thing aloud. You were a woman after all. You weren’t supposed to feel such things, let alone share that fact with other people. Maybe your future husbands, but that was ‘simply not done’ as your mother had cautioned you, whilst giving a rather harrowing talk about ‘the facts of life’. Demure, reserved, and dignified - that was what husbands wanted. 

Needless to say, none of those words could be used to describe you at present, nor your best friend. It was what had drawn you two together in the first place - a recognition of a kindred spirit, desperate to survive in a world that was clearly not designed for your kind. 

For the first time in whole your life, you hadn’t felt so alone. She too loathed everything society said you were supposed to enjoy - sewing, the latest fashions, making oneself appealing to the other sex. Instead, she encouraged you and your passions, sending you new books she thought you’d like about topics that interested you. She also spoke to you like an equal and wasn’t afraid to debate current issues like politics, female rights, and science. Hell, she hadn’t laughed when you had confessed that you’d be perfectly content living a life that didn’t involve a man at all (let alone as a husband). If anything, she had encouraged it. 

So, years later here you were, thick as thieves with Eloise Bridgerton and not the least bit interested in any kind of future that didn’t have her in it. 

“I just can’t ever picture me being like that with another person,” she continued, staring at the couple with seeming disbelief. “Especially not one of these boys that peacock themselves about the place, acting like they’re anything other than children showing off for the air-headed debutantes. It’s embarrassing honestly.” 

You tried not to laugh at your friend’s visible repulsion at the sight. She had never been one to hide her feelings and her expressive face gave their true nature away every time.

“Agreed,” you murmured, eyes still focused on the display despite vocalising your disapproval. “Oh. I… That hardly looks comfortable. In fact, she rather looks like she’s in pain.”

“Well, considering the fact that he looks like he’s trying to eat her, I’m not surprised.”

“El!” 

“What?” she scoffed, sitting up and finally crawling back from the edge of the railings. You followed, shuffling backwards further into the shadows and safely out of sight. Anyone who dared look up would be unable to see you from this angle. “It’s the truth. I’m merely surprised he hasn’t dislocated his jaw yet like some python and simply swallowed her, and her fortune, whole. I merely wish I could understand what drives a person to do such a thing. It isn’t exactly like one can simply look it up in a book. They all simply say that a kiss has some divine power that makes a person lose all sense. That can’t be possible.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it is.”

“Oh, really? What could possibly make you think that?”

You froze. 

How could you tell her the truth? That you knew it to be possible because every time you looked at her, what you wanted most in the world was to be able to pull her into your arms and kiss her like it was the last thing you would ever do in this lifetime? That, you had long known that your feelings towards her were well passed the point of friendly? 

Even now, your heart raced in your chest in a way it only ever did when she was near. The faint traces of her orange blossom perfume made your head spin and you knew you'd be smelling it hours after she had gone as you always did.

“I don’t know.” You gulped, trying not to let your warming cheeks give away your sudden train of thought. However, your mouth and your brain had never been the most co-operative of organs. They often had a way of defying one another, just like now in fact, as you opened your mouth and the words simply came tumbling out. “Maybe that’s the problem… maybe we don’t know because we have no experience. Nothing to base it on. Maybe, it’s one of those things you have to try and see for yourself… ‘find out’ as it were.”

Eloise’s eyes looked like dinner plates, they became so wide. 

“What? That’s… that’s a ridiculous proposition,” she choked, her voice raising dangerously loud. However, a well-timed moan from below brought her back to her senses as she remembered just where you were and what had brought you two into this situation in the first place. 

Switching back to a frantic whisper, she continued. “I … I mean - who - what… no one would agree to such a foolish idea, not when they’d think I was trying to entrap them into a marriage-“ 

“El-” 

“-and we all know they’d be desperate to brag about it to everyone. I would be dragged down the aisle by the end of the night, if my brothers didn’t drag them outside and shoot them first-“

“El!” You reached over and took her face in your hands. Holding her still seemed to do the trick as she instantly fell silent. “Breathe. Ok? I didn’t mean with a boy, or some stranger… I … I meant…” 

The words died in your throat as your mind raced to maintain in control. There were a million reasons why this was a bad idea, the first and biggest being that your friendship was the most precious and treasured thing in your life. Risking it was beyond idiotic. 

You knew that that was precisely what Eloise would tell you too, if she knew what you were about to say. However, you said it anyway. 

“I meant someone you trusted. Someone you knew. Someone who cared about you.” 

Eloise snorted. “And who would that be then? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I hardly have a line of suitors waiting for me, let alone any that suit those criteria-“ 

That was it. You couldn’t wait any longer. You kissed her. 

The kiss was everything you’d been brought up to fear and avoid, but you knew that nothing in your life had ever felt so right. You hadn’t been made to want anyone other than Eloise, and you’d spent too many years trying to force yourself to believe otherwise. To believe that your mother was right, that you’d find a suitable man and feelings would grow in time. To believe that you were wrong to imagine kissing a girl rather than a boy… 

Well, it was happening. It was no longer just a fantasy and… in a word? It was thrilling. The entire world stopped. The moment was breathtaking… and then it was over. 

You paused, waiting with bated breath for her to react. However, moments passed by and Eloise failed to say anything - which in itself was a signal something was wrong. It took a whole minute for her to even open her eyes, let alone look at you. 

Ice cold fear spread through your veins and you felt the world crumbling around you.

“I- I'm so sorry,” you choked, hastily pulling away. “I’m so sorry, I … just … I shouldn't have done that, El. Please, if you don’t say a word about this then I’ll stay away from you and you’ll never have to see me again. I promise-"

“W- what?”

Eloise blinked, suddenly waking from her stupor as you began to scramble to your feet, desperate to make your escape - amorous couple, or no. However, her grip was tight as she grabbed your hand, refusing to let you go. She was surprisingly strong.

“No, wait,” she begged, her desperation clear by the way her voice broke. “Please, just - just wait. I … I just was surprised. That’s all, Y/N. I wasn’t expecting it or to… like it. Or at least, not that much.” 

“You ... liked it?” 

"Yes."

You could have been knocked over with a feather at that point. Instead of rejecting you, or rebuking you, or even feeling repulsed by what you had just done, Eloise seemed almost excited as the shock wore off.

She began to smile, making the tension simply evaporate between you two. Instead, she looked almost liberated, her cheeks flushed and her lips were plumped from where you had just pressed them against your own. Several strands of her hair had also come free from their perfect coiffeur throughout the evening and yet, Eloise had never looked more perfect in your eyes.

You’d have done anything to frame that moment to preserve it forever.

“I did," she murmured. "It seems you were right after all. Perhaps it was a matter of finding the right person to kiss.” 

“I was?”

“Indeed,” Eloise purred, a newfound eagerness surging within her as she reached out and pulled you back into her arms. “But, maybe we should test it one more time? Just to be sure. Any sound scientific theory must be based on evidence, after all.” 

Well, who were you to argue with that?

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE WORDSMITH.

fandom. formula one

pairing. charles leclerc x author fem!reader (fc: none)

about. bestseller author genevieve dedicates her newest book to a special person. the internet tries to find out who it is

content warnings. social media au, not edited/proofread

notes. who doesn't dream about being a world famous author?

GENEVIEVE_UPDATES

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 10'883 others

genevieve_updates The dedication in the newest Bestseller 'When We Were Wallflowers', by @/genevieve. For the first time in her career she mentiones a partner, calling him 'my love' and surprisingly also 'mon coeur'. Who could her beau be?

user NO MOTHER IS NO LONGER SINGLE

⤷ user my life is officially over...

user HE'S THE REASON WHY WE HAVE THE BEST ROMANCE BOOK OF THE DECADE THANK YOU DAD

⤷ user parents fr 🙏🙏🙏

user "our story now forever immortal and never forgotten" AND WHAT IF I CRY

user don't know if i should cry tears from sadness that mom is taken or happiness that mom is taken

⤷ user at least he makes her happy (delulu)

⤷ user you're so right, tears of happiness then

user THE F1 X GENEVIEVE CROSSOVER IS HAPPENING??

⤷ user SO I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO NOTICED PIERRE IN THE LIKES

⤷ user charles as well???

⤷ user hello wtf is happening SINCE WHEN DO THEY READ??

user "YOUR WORDSMITH"???? am i the only one loosing my mind over this

⤷ user no. i just haven't recovered yet

GENEVIEVE

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, haileybieber and 503'002 others

genevieve My summer was filled with flowers and love, so much love. It has given me enough inspiration to write yet another romance book, even if I promised to return to my beloved fantasy. Yet when the heart calls... who am I to refuse? 'Reverie, Lost in your Love' will be published in November '24!

user HOLY SHIT WE'RE GETTING FED FR

user SHE NAMED HER NEW BOOK REVERIE I CAN NOT

⤷ user reverie: a state of being pleasantly lost in your thoughts, almost dreaming

⤷ user mom is big brained fr "lost in your love"? yes, yes i will be

haileybieber I will be (im)patiently waiting, as always 💗

⤷ genevieve And I will be sending you the first draft, as always

⤷ user their friendship is so dear to me 🥹🥹

⤷ user icons supporting icons i fear

⤷ user auntie hailey better drop some spoilers!!!

zendaya We're getting another romance by our queen! Rejoice!!

⤷ user DAYA IS LIKE US FR

⤷ user WEWOOO SHE READS GENEVIEVE

user i just know the cover will be serving cunt (in the most beautiful flowers)

user REVERIE REVERIE REVERIE

user only four months left... only four months left......

pierregasly super liked by pierre gasly

⤷ user why is he so unserious 😭

⤷ user "super liked" goddamn we're finally reaching the part where he will rate posts he likes

CHARLES_LECLERC

liked by pierregasly, andferrari007, arthur_leclerc and 1'032'883 others

charles_leclerc Nothing better than summer, sun, beach and a good book in my hands. And of course good company 😉

user the tan 🫠🫠

user IS THAT A GENEVIEVE BOOK??

⤷ user oh my god you're right

⤷ user and it's one of her fantasy ones, from her fae series 👀

⤷ user charles has taste

user first he's in her likes and now he's reading her books... how do we tell him

⤷ user hear me out, genevieve and charles *gets shot*

⤷ user KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, MOM DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER THAN HIM

⤷ user i trust in mom and i trust that she wouldn't fall for a vroom vroom man

pierregasly you already finished the other books?

⤷ charles_leclerc Breezed through them 😆

⤷ arthur_leclerc He's waiting for November

⤷ pierregasly aren't we all?

user the filter is back..

⤷ user the filter never left

GENEVIEVE

liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, gigihadid and 3'029'746 others

genevieve "J'adore ton sourire, ma belle." I remember hearing these words for the first time, I remember his own smile he gave me back then, and I just knew, I love him. Thank you, Charlie, mon coeur, for standing by my side, for being my inspiration, my defender against the cursed writer's block. Your passion inspires me to write even more, so I'm proud to announce once again, another romance book. 'Winterbliss and Midnightkiss' will be available in March '25.

charles_leclerc Tu es incroyable, ma belle ❤️

⤷ genevieve Right back at you, my champion

comments have been limited

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @namgification , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

ARKHAM MAID 2024

[runningmunson]

Scar

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.3k Summary: Ever since the birth of your son, you have avoided intimacy with Aemond in fear of him hating your new body. Aemond is there to change your mind. Warnings: insecurities, mentions of stretch marks, smutty-ish (f oral receiving)

Masterlist

You had just left your son’s room for the night and made your way to your chambers with your handmaiden, Edith, following behind. You were surprised to find Aemond reading in the room, knowing he usually got in much later than you. He briefly looked up from his book as greetings were made.

She made quick work of undressing you and undoing your braid, leaving your hair loose and wavy. You felt your husband's gaze on you the whole time you were getting ready for bed, his book long abandoned. Your eyes met in the mirror and noticed his raised eyebrow and the smirk that grew on his lips. 

“Will that be all, my lady?” asked Edith.

“Yes,” Aemond said curtly, as he answered for you. You glanced at him before turning your attention to Edith and smiled apologetically at her.

“Thank you, Edith. I shall call for you in the morning,” you gave her hand a squeeze.

“Goodnight, my lady. My prince,” she bowed at the both of you and left the room. You let out a sigh and made your way toward Aemond. 

“Did you have to be so rude toward her? I quite like her, you know,” you scolded him. 

He ignored your comment and pulled you into his lap. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist. He took a deep breath, inhaling your scent. “I missed you.”

“You saw me not but a few hours ago,” you chuckled. 

“I didn’t know it was a crime to miss my wife,” he smiled and squeezed your hips. You froze as his hand traveled under your dress and up your thigh. You felt him grow hard as his fingers itched toward your womanhood. 

You pulled away from his grasp and shot out of his lap. Your heart was racing as you backed away from him and made your way to the bed. “I-I wish to retire to bed now.”

“(Y/N)...” Aemond warned and stood from his seat to turn toward you. You stopped pulling the covers down when you heard footsteps coming closer to you. 

“Please, drop it. I do not wish to argue with you tonight,” you pleaded but refused to look at him.

“What reason is it this time? Have I not been patient and understanding of every reason you have had? I have given you as much time and space as you have needed, but I miss you,” he said, a hint of anger in his voice due to his frustration. 

This was not the first time it had happened, so it was no surprise to Aemond when you denied his advances again. You had not been intimate since before you had your son. It was only a matter of time before he grew tired of you and your reluctance. 

At first, you had valid reasons, and he wouldn’t dare try anything during that time. You had a difficult labor, and your recovery was painful. You also chose to nurse your son on your own, so the days were long and the nights tiring as you didn't get much sleep. Aemond was your best support, always there to help you with whatever you needed. However, it has now been three moons since your son was born. Your body no longer held the same pain and your son began to sleep through the night. Yet you still had not even been naked in front of him since before you gave birth.

You wrapped one arm around your body as a way to find some comfort. Your hand found your face to hide from him as tears began to pool. Aemond yielded the second he saw your stature and the tears in your eyes. “No, no. Please, do not cry. I am sorry for bringing it up. It was not fair for me to burden you when you already have so much on your shoulders. Let us go to bed.”

“No, you are right. You have been nothing but amazing to me, yet I have continued to deny you any form of intimacy out of fear,” you glanced over at him.

“Fear? What do you mean? Are you afraid I would force that upon you? Because I wouldn’t dare,” Aemond panicked, thinking you thought of his advances as a demand and not a request.

“I do not think that of you, dear husband. I know you would never do that,” you sat on the bed and began to pick at your nails. “I fear that I will now disappoint you. My body… it's not the same as it was before. I have grown softer. My skin is marred with angry red marks. I do not wish to look undesirable to you.”

Aemond looked at you in shock. He made his way over and took your face in his hands, making eye contact before he spoke. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? The carnal desire I have to take you at every moment of the day? And you dare believe anything less?” 

“But you haven't even seen me. I am-” you tried to argue, but he shook his head not letting you finish.

“I never expected you to look the same. If you truly believe that I would not desire you, then I am not showing you enough of my love. Please, let me show you if you will allow me,” his hands found their way to the bottom of your nightgown, silently asking for permission. You gave a quick nod. He picked you up, laid you on the bed, and wasted no time taking your gown off your body.

Your immediate reaction was to cover your stomach as his eyes looked over your new body. His eye narrowed. He removed your arms that covered your body and placed them above your head. One of his hands grabbed your wrists to keep them from moving back to their previous location.

“Don't make me restrain you,” he said teasingly. He let go of your wrists, but you kept them above your head. His lips found your neck making your head twist up and to the side to give him better access. 

“These are much larger than the last time I saw them,” he smirked against your neck as you felt his fingertips circle your breast. A thumb ran over your erect nipple, and a gasp left your lips as he gave it a tug. All too soon his lips trailed down your neck to your chest. A whine left your mouth as he did so.

He made his way further down your body and this time to the place you hated most. He raised his head to get a good look at you and traced his fingers along the new red grooves on your sides and lower abdomen. You wanted to push him away and hide but fought the urge.

“You say I am brave and still handsome despite my scar, but does the same not go for you? Just as I gave my eye in return for Vhagar, you bear these marks in return for our son. For that, I could not find you more beautiful, my love,” he paid careful attention to place a kiss on every single one. 

“Soon enough, they will turn a silvery white. And is that not a color known for Targaryens?” he questioned but didn't wait for an answer. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt him spread your legs. His fingers ran up your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Aemond,” you let out a breathy moan and gripped the sheets as you felt his tongue come in contact with your core. 

He lifted his head and smirked at you, “Don’t worry, I am going to worship you all night long and have you screaming out in pleasure. So much so that you forget every trivial reason you may think I find you undesirable.”

—

Taglist: @cullenswife , @wrendermeuseless

[fictionalthrill]

Forced Hand: Chapter 1 - Inescapable Past

A/N: Greetings! Here is the first chapter of my Gwayne Hightower series. Sorry for making it such a late post! Thanks to whomever takes the time to read my writing. As I mentioned yesterday on this post, this series will not be fully canon nor will it accurately follow details from the show/book. I will follow certain details but given the nature of the story, I will take many liberties. Also, I will do my best create a HoTD environment through descriptions and dialogue, but I don't expect that to be accurate either...

Also, I will now present my blog as an 18+ space given the route I plan to take with my writing. I don't plan to write anything explicitly salacious, but certain topics and themes will come up and I just want to be cautious.

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

Description: Lady Y/N Blackstone is informed by her father that he intends to arrange a marriage for her... again. Meanwhile, Gwayne gets a visit from his father. WARNINGS FOR THE CHAPTER: Nothing that requires warning. Pairing: Female Reader (Lady Y/N Blackstone) x Gwayne Hightower

There were many ways in which Y/N’s day could have started. However, as she tried to indulge her morning meal, the way her day already unfolded was certainly not what she had expected.

         “I’m sorry, father, but I must refuse to this,” she said.

         “Refuse? Darling, you cannot simply refuse, this is not how things work,” he said.

         “I believe I should be allowed to refuse yet another forced marriage attempt. I do not need to be married off, I can survive on my own. I say you do not concern yourself with me and rather focus on Lorenah’s future.”

         “Y/N, you are my daughter, as is Lorenah, both your futures are of my concern.”

         “But to go through this again? I do not wish to endure all I did the first time. I would rather Lorenah’s prospects are secured, properly, so she does not suffer the same fate as me. The rest does not matter.”

         “But it does. Who shall provide for you and look after you once I am gone?” her father said, but then found himself in a cough fit. Y/N went to stand to help but he waved his hand. “I am alright.”

         “I do not need to be looked after, father. Besides, I am far from the preferred marriage age, and my prospects have long been tarnished. You know who made sure of that.”

         “You are not far from the marriage age. It might not be the ideal but—”

         “What has brought this on again, anyways? It was aunt Sesa, was it not?”        

         “Your aunt—”

         “I knew it,” she cut him off and stood up. “Any time that woman visits she takes it upon herself to intervene in our lives and you let her!”

         “Y/N.”

         “No. She intervened when you try to marry me off and we all know how that went. Then she rushed you into finding Aianna a match, and now she’s back looking to start things up again.”

         “Y/N, how can your future be ensured if I am no longer walking the earth?”

         She came closer to him and took his hand in hers. “Father, I understand you care and in caring you worry for me, but I will be fine. Besides, I’ve already spoken to Aianna, and her and Lord Corbus are more than happy to take me in, if needs be.”

         He removed his hand from hers. “You’ve discussed this with your sister?”

         “You didn’t really believe I hoped to give marriage another try did you?”

         He stared at her. “That was not for you to discuss.”

         “No? Father, it is my life, and the last time it was in someone else’s hand, I was—”

         Just then, Sesa appeared in the room. “Good morrow, Lord Blackstone. Ah, Y/N!”

         “Aunt Sesa,” Y/N grumbled as she walked away from her father.

         “Sesa, morning,” Lord Blackstone greeted.

         Sesa approached the table and took a seat.

         “I am going to see how preparations are going for Lorenah’s arrival,” Y/N said.

         “Oh, Y/N, has your father told you the news?”

         “That—”

         “I was actually discussing it with her now.”

         “Oh, there’s no need for discussion this is great news!”          “I beg to differ,” Y/N said.

         “Y/N, it is unbecoming of a lady of your age and stature to be unwed.”

         “What is unbecoming is to be engaged one day only to find out the next it is no longer so.”

         “Y/N,” her father tried to reign her in.

         “Well, yes, that is unbecoming and unfortunate. But it does not define the rest of your life. Being a spinster, however, that can stain a family name.”

         She walked towards the doors and turned to stare at her aunt Sesa. “My status has not affected this family in any way. Aianna was able to marry well and Lorenah has garnered the favor of many suitors already, all awaiting the day father accepts an offer for her hand.”

         “Y/N,” Lord Blackstone tried again.

         “This is you having nothing to do but to meddle in our lives, yet again.”

         “Y/N!”

         Her eyes landed on her father.

         “It’s alright, Lord Blackstone,” Sesa said. “I am not meddling. Like my own two daughters, you and your sisters were born to fulfill your duties. You are to marry and provide your Lord husbands with heirs to further extend the livelihood of this house. I am only trying to aid your father so that you may pursue that.”

         “Aunt Sesa, might I remind you, that I was not the one to choose this path for myself. And this time, I refuse to be humiliated again by others making decisions for me. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

         “Y/N,” her father called after her as she left the room. Sesa waved him off.

         “It is alright, Lord Blackstone. Let her decompress; give her time.”

         “I am afraid she has grown too stubborn as well hot-headed.”

         “All a result of being unwed. Which is why it is so important you find her a husband before it becomes permanent.”

         “I do not know about that, Sesa. It was not until I mentioned a husband that she lashed out in that way. The gods know what fire burns inside her since her misfortune… it’s taken her time to make peace with it all and here I am looking to drag her down the aisle again.”

         “My Lord, it is a woman’s duty to wed. While the circumstances were unforeseen and out of your control, it does not mean she must be condemned to the life of a spinster. If a lord will have her as a wife, you must not pass on the opportunity. Have you sent word?”

         “Not as of yet. I have only just considered this and, so far, she is unaccepting of the idea.”

         “She will accept it in time. As fathers and mothers, we know what is best for our children.”

         “May the gods will it so. I will make it known tomorrow.”

--

         After Blackstone finally made his plans for his daughter known, several days passed and it was enough time for word to spread. The eligibility of the daughter of one of the most prominent houses in the Veil was news that would gradually reach others. However, given said daughter was once engaged, word spread like wildfire.

         Y/N did her best to keep her mind off it, resorting to avoiding the subject and everyone in her path. That was until her sister’s arrival.

Y/N stood on the steps of the Blackstone castle watching as Lorenah exited one of the family carriages and made her towards the entrance. A smile broke on Y/N’s face as Lorenah approached her and wrapped her arms around her middle.

“Oh, how I missed you!” Y/N said.

“I missed you too, sister!” Lorenah replied.

As Y/N let go, she grabbed Lorenah’s hands, and her eyes scanned her fully. “Is that a new dress?”

“Do you like it? Aianna had it made for me.”

“It is beautiful, but not as beautiful as you are.” Y/N came at her sister’s side and draped an arm over her shoulders as she guided her in. “Come, I want you to tell me everything. From the beginning of your journey to the very end. You must be hungry.”

Just as they had made it inside, their father appeared to greet Lorenah. “My sweet little, Lorenah!” He extended his arms for her, and she left Y/N’s side to hug him.

“Father!”

Lord Blackstone chuckled as he took a step back to get a better look at his youngest daughter. “You appear taller. Or am I just getting smaller?”

“It is only because you have not seen me in some time, father.”

“Maybe so.”

Suddenly, Sesa came into the room, her arms extended, but not as an opening for a hug. “My dear, Lorenah, you have returned!”

Lorenah, stood before Sesa and curtsied. “Aunt Sesa.”

“It is good to see you again, my niece.”

          “I am glad to have returned, Aunt Sesa.”

         “Right, let us eat!” Lord Blackstone said. “The cook has prepared your favorite. Go on, it should be served soon.”

         “Thank you, father.” As Lorenah proceeded to the room, Sesa not far behind her, Y/N stood in place, contemplating whether dinner would be worth sitting through.

         “Will you be joining us, Y/N?” Lord Blackstone asked. “I am sure Lorenah would be happy if you joined us.”

         “I suppose so.” Y/N was about to strut past her father when he held her hand in his.

         “Dearest, please do not continue to be angry with me. I am only trying to do what is best for you.”

         “If that were really the case you would not choose for me to endure this again.”

         “Who will look after you when I am gone? Who will provide for you if I do not find you a husband to do so?”

         “Father, Aianna and I discussed this. They are willing to take me in.”      

         A fit of coughs broke out of him before he continued. “I do not appreciate you discussing something like this with your sister. It is not up to you to make these decisions.”

         “Father, listen to yourself. You are ill. You need me here. Lorenah, needs me here.”

         He placed a hand on her cheek. “My daughter, you are unlike no other. You have always strived to put yourself last. But this is not something you can be left behind on. Please, let us get past this.”

         “Clearly, I have no choice in the matter,” she said before she walked away from her father.

--

         As the Lord of Oldtown, Ser Gwayne Hightower did not take interest in news or happenings of the Realm unless it concerned his House or the interests of the crown. If he did not hear of it from his close advisors, he would learn of it from his father, the Hand of the King. Which is why he assumed there was something of critical importance when he was informed his father arrived.

         One of his advisors left his side as he walked over to Ser Otto. “Lord Hand, I was not aware you would be coming to Oldtown.”

         “It was not planned. We must talk,” Otto said.

         “Let us go inside then.”

         Gwayne led his father towards his study. As they stepped inside, one of the servants appeared at the door. “Shall I bring forth refreshments, my lords?”

         “No, leave us.” Otto answered. The servant bowed his head and left the two men in the study.

         “Is this a matter of the crown?” Gwayne asked.

         “No, not directly.”

         “Not directly?”

         “I received word that Lord Blackstone is once again offering the hand of one of his daughters.”

         Gwayne’s eyes snapped up to his father. Now, the courting of a lord’s daughter wasn’t something that garnered his attention. But in this instance, he couldn’t help himself.

         “And this concerns us how?”

         “It is Lady Y/N.”

         It was as Gwayne feared. Still, he kept his composure before his father, as to not reveal his disappointment. “I do not understand, father. You came all the way from King’s Landing to tell me this?”

         Otto approached his son. “Not just to tell you, but to urge you to request her hand.”

         “Request her hand?”

         “Gwayne, this is a union that could be most beneficial to our family. Lady Y/N is the eldest of Blackstone’s daughter, one of the richest and most influential families of the Riverlands.”

         “All of this I know. In fact, I can recall vying for her hand once and winning it. This was then accompanied by your disapproval which led me to call off the engagement.”

         “Gwayne you were far too young and naïve for marriage, at the time. Your duty was to Oldtown.”

         “Yes, and it continues to be so. How is this now a priority? How is this now what you want?”

         Otto took a deep breath. “Blackstone is ill. When he first learned of his illness, he made it known to some of his closest advisors, that whomever his eldest should marry, would inherit Blackstone castle, along with whatever land and fortune is left to his name. Of course, he’d leave for his other daughters and whatever descendants they produced.”

      ��  “So, that’s the interest? The inheritance?” Gwayne stared at Otto.

         “Gwayne, do you understand the influence of the Blackstones in the Riverlands? Do you know what a marriage between our houses could bring?”

         “Why now, father? Why not let me go through with it when we were already betrothed?”

         “As I already said, Oldtown was the priority. Besides, Blackstone did not decide his intentions with his inheritance until after he learned he was ill.”

         “Did he tell you all this?”

         “No. But I have a direct source who confirmed it all.”

         Gwayne sighed. “Even if I wanted to, Lord Blackstone made it clear he wanted no business with me after what I did.”

         “Leave Blackstone, to me. Focus on Lady Y/N and winning her favor.”

         “This attempt will surely be fruitless.”

         Otto placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Trust me, we will get this union.”

         “Even if Blackstone gave us his approval, what of Lady Y/N? She surely still hates me. She will never go for the marriage.”

         “Then you charm her, pursue her. Show her you want this marriage.”

         “I respect your optimism, father. But for once, I do not see how we will be successful in this endeavor.”

         “Make sure to win her favor. The rest will come about.”

         Gwayne nodded. “Fine.”

         “We leave in the evening.”

         “The evening?”

         “The sooner we meet with Blackstone, the better our advantage.”

         “Did he not just announce this?”

         “Sufficient time has passed for word to go around. Coincidently, the Prince of Dorne is traveling through land to his home. But it is well known he is in search of a wife. If he has heard about this, there is a high chance he will pay Blackstone a visit.”

         Gwayne cleared his throat. “Would leaving at dawn not be better?”

         “If we are to prevent the Prince of Dorne from persuading Blackstone, we would leave now. But being as I rushed here, I shall have a meal, and we will gather our things to leave this evening.”

         “As you wish,” Gwayne nodded.

Chapter 2 - Looking Ahead

[thelov3lybookworm]

I Didn't Ask For This (part twelve)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: none that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: you did not think I would forget about my baby, did you? Yes, I am in fact, not dead. And yes, I didn't write anything for this fic for a long time because I had no idea what to do 😌

Also, thank you for all the love that you gave this one. I am soo glad I was able to write something for you to love. 🥹❣️

This is the last part in this series. But if there is something you want to see in a possible epilogue, please send in an ask or comment.

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

A loud knock on the door startled Y/n, who was trying not to get caught reading the very... not child friendly stuff Nesta had given her. Cauldron knew what else Nesta had in store for Y/n.

The knock was a little too loud to be Azriel, because most of the time Y/n didn't even realise someone had knocked when Azriel knocked. So it was definitely most probably Cassian, who was probably excited about something.

She got up to open the door, wondering if she should hide the book she was reading in case Cassian decided to barge in. For Cassian, it wouldn't be anything new.

She felt like it was the biggest shock in her life when she found Azriel standing outside the door, his hand poised to knock again as he grinned widely at her, panting.

Because, first of all, Azriel was a quiet person. Hell, even his wings made no sound when flying. If he knocked so loud, it was probably something huge. She didn't know if it was a good thing or not.

And second and more concerning thing was that Azriel was grinning. This was a man who would glare at people just for smiling in his direction.

Now she wondered if she really should have hidden the book.

"Azriel? Is everything alright?"

Impossibly, he somehow managed to grin wider. Once he had gained some semblance of control over his breathing, he spoke.

"Everything's fine. Perfect even."

Now Y/n was seriously concerned.

"Why are you grinning?"

"I need to show you something."

He offered her his hand, which she eyed suspiciously before taking. "What is it?"

"It wouldn't be fun if I told you about it." He pointed out, leading her to a nearby balcony.

That made sense.

He picked her up and began flying, the setting sun making the atmosphere beautiful. That was all Y/n tried to think about because if she didn't, she would continue to hound Azriel for answers, and he was too stubborn for his own good. He wouldn't tell her what it was, no matter what.

Soon, he was landing in front of a beautiful house, a beautiful lawn surrounding it. The area was quiet. There were similar looking houses nearby, a few shops. They were near the center of Velaris, but the pace was still quiet, tranquil even. Just like Azriel.

Y/n thought she knew what was going on, but still she asked. "Why are we here?"

Azriel grinned, a light blush dusting his cheeks. "I wanted to show you this place. Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful." She stretched out the word, searching his face.

"I brought that home. I thought now that we are... getting to know each other again and are comfortable, we might as well live somewhere far from Cassian and Nesta. Figured you might be just as tired of them as I am. Of course, I'm not saying you should live with me if you don't want to, but one day... maybe?" He looked at her when he finished rambling, his eyes hopeful.

She smiled. "I would love to live with you Azriel. So, when are we going to move in?"

Azriel's face lit up like a child who had recieved a gift on solstice. "As soon as possible. If you're okay with it." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Do you want to take a look inside?"

"Sure."

Azriel led her inside the mostly empty but clean house, a little jump in his steps. Y/n smiled and shook her head as he walked in front of her, opening all the doors and cupboards, a small grin on his blushing face.

•○🌑○•

Azriel was cooking, having forced Y/n to sit and watch. Since there weren't many things in the house except for a couch, bed and a few cupboards, Azriel had flown back to the house of wind to get items for their dinner.

She had offered to cook, but he had refused. And since then, Y/n could tell he was trying really hard to impress her with his cooking skills.

They kept talking throughout, his focus equally divided.

Right now, he was seemingly about to flip the food in the pan, and he turned to her.

"Watch this." But then he realised she was already watching, and he faltered.

Unfortunately, he had already begun to move the pan. And because he wasn't paying attentiont to the pan, the food items in the pan scattered all around the kitchen, and Y/n hid her smile behind a hand.

Cauldron, Azriel was adorable.

He stared at the mess, his shoulders slumping. Y/n hopped down from the counter she was siting on and moved closer to him. "Go. Sit. I'll make us something."

Azriel shook his head. "No."

Y/n cocked her head. "Why not? I cooked all the time by myself before."

"I'll get something from a restaurant."

Her brows furrowed. "But why?"

"Because I want to treat you better than you have been treated before." He mumbled under his breath, barely audible. Maybe he was trying to not let her hear, but she did.

Her heart swelled, as if it tripped fell down the stairs and now had to rest in bed for its whole life.

"You are treating me good." She smiled at him when he looked at her with wide eyes. He blushed furiously when she placed a tender kiss on his cheek.

"What– what would you like to eat?"

Y/n sighed. "Anything. I don't really have something in mind."

Azriel nodded. "I'll be back soon."

And with that, he bounded off towards the door, leaving his shadows behind to clean up the mess he had made.

•○🌑○•

Y/n watched as her husband moved his hand animatedly, his face filled with excitement.

The two of them sat on the couch, knees touching. Y/n wondered if in a few moments she'd be on his lap.

It had started out with her on the couch and him on the armchair near the fire, having finished their dinner sitting on the kitchen counter top because there was no table or chairs. After that, they had moved to hear the fireplace.

They had sat in silence, contemplating what to talk about when she found Azriel grinning.

When she asked him about it, he told her about how his shadows loved to be nosy and knew almost everyone's secret. How they had been telling him about the secret of the little boy passing by the house. It was that he had stolen a cookie without his mother's knowledge, and how he prayed to the cauldron that she never found out.

Since then, he had begun telling her of all the juicy secrets he gathered over the years, his shadows occasionally chiming in to add to the information. He had slowly begun shifting towards her as he spoke.

It wasn't long before he settled on the opposite end of the couch, a huge smile on his face as he told her of one of his favourite secrets that he found out, his body seemingly moving of its own accord.

Throughout the night after that, he had shifted closer anytime he got a little more excited, her scooting closer when she got more and more intrested in the story he was telling.

He finally stopped speaking, taking a deep breath, his cheeks flushed and a wide grinon his face.

Y/n sighed. "Well... that was a journey."

"I have better stories than that." He smirked smugly when her eyes widened in disbelief.

"Liar. I don't believe you. Even Nesta's books have less dramatic plot lines."

He grinned, shaking his head. "Speaking of Nesta's books... did you enjoy the book that you were you reading today?"

Y/n immediately tensed. "What do you mean?"

He gave her a sly smirk. "I'm the spymaster of the night court, Y/n, and I've been married to you for almost six months now. Do you really think I don't know what conspires between you and Nesta when me and Cassian aren't looking?"

A blush climbed up Y/n's neck. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure. Let me help you with that–" And then, as if the damn book had been next to him this whole time, he pulled it out of between his shadows and flipped open to where she had been reading when he interrupted her that morning. She knew that because she found the candy wrapper she placed in between the pages to mark the her progress.

She gasped, but he was already beginning to read. "Where were you? I think it was here? He grinned up at her from between her thighs..." He paused for a moment, reading, before he clicked his tongue. "You are really interested in this?"

He was busy reading, and so he didn't see her reaching out to snatch the book until she had a firm grasp on the book. He looked at her in surprise, but she began tugging. Of course, he didn't let her pull it too far before he himself started tugging at it.

"Let go Azriel."

He gave a harsh tug, and Y/n was no match for his strength. She lurched forward, her hand landing on his shoulder. Her face was mere inches from his and he grinned up at her.

"Really? You like this–" He shook the book near her face. "–this thing so much? Honestly, you could choose better."

Her whole face flushed as she tried to keep herself from glancing at his lips. "Don't be mean. It's rude to judge people."

"Hard not to when you read childish things like these." She scowled at him, and he leaned closer to her as he whispered, "Honestly, I could show you better things. The male here is like a newborn child compared to me."

Y/n blinked in shock, his closeness doing nothing to help her slow brain. He huffed a laugh at her reaction, and the air on her face finally pulled her from her daze. She began to pull back, trying to retreat back into her original position, but he caught hold of the hand on his shoulder, his expression serious.

Azriel's eyes trailed down to her mouth, and his tongue flicked out to lick his lips. He glanced up at her eyes, his eyes swimming with question.

Y/n knew it would be pointless and stupid to pretend she didn't want what he was offering. She could not keep lying to herself when this was all she wanted since the two of them began spending more time together.

So she simply leaned back in, her eyes fluttering shut when his breath caressed her features again.

•○●⛦●○•

Azriel didn't need anymore confirmation.

He was tired of waiting, and now that she was so close, it was too hard not to sink his teeth into her. Into those beautiful lips, that beautiful body.

So he surged up, and caught his lips with hers.

In that moment, it felt like he had found peace. Something he had been searching his whole life for. Like he had found the home he never had.

Not the house he was currently in, but home in her.

And when she gasped, he realised there were multiple reasons responsible for that feeling.

First obviously being that he loved her.

Second, she loved him.

And how did he know?

He felt it coming at him in waves.

Through the newly found golden string connecting their souls.

I love you. The emotions he felt from her seemed to tell him.

I love you more. The emotions he sent back to her.

And there, on that couch in their new house, tangled in each other's arms...

Azriel and Y/n were finally home.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes @luvmoo @starlight-hope @a-frog-with-a-laptop @fall-myriad @alt-ghost @elleofdragons @ruleroftides @5moremin @stargirl1714 @bunnymallowo @ivy-34 @aria-chikage @kalulakunundrum

[venerawrites]

Thanks for the headcanons of Itachi and the s/o who has illness🥰. Oh my god your writings are just awesome keep it up❤️💪

Can I request some headcanons of itachi,kakashi,naruto when their s/o is pregnant?🤭

author's note: oh my god, this has been sitting in my drafts forever! I have only one assessment left, so I finally have the chance to catch up with my requests! Thank you so, so much for your patience and for requesting! Hope you enjoy!

➤ Itachi

I think I am going to disappoint a lot of you, but Itachi was definitely not happy when he first learned that his s/o was pregnant.

HEAR ME OUT PLS!

It is not that he is not loving his partner, but given everything that has happened to him and all the decisions he had to make throughout his life, he has promised himself that he would never have children. He didn't want to put them at risk, or worse, make them suffer because of his own mistakes.

The initial reaction was shock.

He was always so careful and they always used protection, so how did that happen??

I imagine he would leave for a few days just so he can clear his head and gather his thoughts.

Itachi is naturally a carer and also loves kids, so it doesn't take him long to come around. After a few days, he is already back to his s/o and they better believe he would not leave them for ANYTHING.

Very overprotective, sometimes quite unreasonable - even in the early stage of the pregnancy, he would insist on taking care of his s/o, cook for them, clean the house etc.

Does not like the idea of his lover leaving the house by themselves, mainly because he is paranoid that either Sasuke or any of his enemies would target them. He always accompanies them when they want to go out, and when he does, he keeps his arm wrapped around their back or shoulders.

As the pregnancy progresses, so do his worries, and if his s/o doesn't want to be overwhelmed by him, they have to set clear boundaries and let him know they need some space to breathe.

Totally a man who would deliver his baby at home!

The moment he heard his baby's cry, he started trembling. No one loves like the Uchiha after all, especially when it comes to their love for their children!

➤ Kakashi

Just like Itachi, for most of his life he was of the firm opinion he DOES NOT want kids.

His s/o, however, was the one that brought up the question at some point in their relationship, and since then he couldn't stop thinking about it.

When his lover told him they were pregnant he was surprised, but not shocked. With the amount of "practice" they were doing, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

I think internally he would be worried and stressing about his s/o, but he would try and act cool about it.

He would purchase dozens of books about pregnancy and would read them all the time. (including during missions and night outs with friends!) Guy and Kurenai would find it cute and would often discuss their own tips with him, while Genma and Anko would roll their eyes at their antics.

Knowing how important is for him to give space to his s/o, he would subtly help around the house, but would still let them go out on their own, do chores or if they are a ninja, even go to low-rank missions.

The more their belly grows, the more fascinated he becomes!

Very touchy - his hands are constantly on his s/o's belly, caressing it or sometimes just holding it.

Kakashi would do that only when his lover is asleep, but he is totally talking to his s/o's stomach and telling his baby random stories.

During the last months, he would also become quite overprotective.

He won't bother his s/o that much, but he won't allow anyone to get close to them, touch their stomach, or bother them for longer than few minutes.

Overall, very supportive and sweet partner, who is going to make his s/o's pregnancy as easy as possible, despite his own fear of failure.

➤ Naruto

0 clue about what's going on! 0!

At first he thinks it is exciting - having a baby is fun, right? You get to dress it, feed it, take it out... it is like playing with a doll!

Buys tons of clothes and toys literally a week after he found out his s/o is pregnant, despite not even knowing the gender yet. (yes, they had to return most of them!)

Comes with a ton of weird names for their little one, because he wants them to be 'unique'. Oinks, Huggy, and Nemar (which is just 'ramen' spelled backward!) were on the top of his list.

The first months are pretty nice and fun! When the hormones start to kick in, however...

I love Naruto, he is one of my fav boys, but I bet my soul that he is so annoying during his s/o's pregnancy!

He would not understand when he needs to give his s/o space and instead will be in their face 24/7. I imagine that he would also (try to) do some housework, but because he put only like 10% effort, his lover would have to constantly go after him and re-do it!

Lots of small petty fights!

Which would always end in Naruto bringing his s/o their favourite snack or takeaway, so it works out!

Very proud to be a future dad - he would go around the whole village, telling everyone how excited he is and how he can't wait to see the baby!

Not scared or nervous at all - he knows that in the end, everything is going to work out! Plus, he and his s/o are going to have each other, so why fear?

His s/o better be prepared to take care of TWO babies, because it would take a long time for this man to become serious and laid back!

cc artwork: Clement Tingry

[prinzrupprecht]

When someone else gives you gifts

Featuring: Tesla, Apollo, Qin, and Thor ( part 1 )

Part 2 will be different characters

CW: mostly fluff and jealousy. Yandere tendencies with some of them

Tesla

He came home from a long day of work expecting you to be asleep but he noticed you on the couch reading a book. “Why are you awake? You didn’t have to wait for me.” He was right, it was nearly midnight while you waited for him.

He was very into his research and his passion for science sometimes made you question your insanity as to why you fell for this man if science was more important than you— his partner.

“Oh, I did? I guess I was too into this book. Also, thanks for the flowers hun.” You walked over to him and raised your toes to kiss him on his nose. He looked at you with confusion. Flowers? He didn’t get you flowers.

“Flowers? I didn’t get you any,” he felt bad when he saw the large bouquet on the table. Did someone give these to you? An unknown feeling formed in his chest.

Quickly he walked over to it and grabbed them tossing them in the trash. “Hey! Why did you do that?!” You shouted angrily but he stopped you from taking them out of the trash.

“We’ll plant a whole garden of roses, besides…” he grabbed your waist.

“I prefer if other men didn’t give you such things when I am the only one that has that privilege,” he kept you close while your heart was racing in your chest. A whole garden? You liked the sound of that instead.

Apollo

He noticed it right away. The new necklace that you were wearing. “This is new.” He lifted the chain up with one finger, but he knew it was a stupid question. You most likely found it in the pile of jewelry he has given you over the years.

You were dumbfounded at first and looked down at the necklace. “One of your followers… he— he gave it to me as a gift,” you stuttered. There was a long pause between you two before he clipped the necklace off.

Apollo didn’t like the idea of another giving you luxury things. He was trying to keep calm but he laughed while holding the necklace in between a few of his fingers while holding it up over his head.

“A cheap thing like this? I could give you anything you want," Apollo pulled you closer to him with his arms tugging around your small body. You knew you were trapped with him and he wouldn’t let go. Was he afraid that someone would steal you away from him? Nobody could steal you away from him. More so you used to be jealous of his herd of women and used to ignore him. He took more interest in you than the other way around in the beginning.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I— I won’t accept any more gifts from your followers.” Apollo liked hearing that as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

With you being his only beloved, he would be the only one to give you things. Was he jealous? He wouldn’t admit if he was. He believed that jealousy was a disgusting trait and nothing beautiful about it.

With you in his arms, he deeply sighed dramatically. “Now my dear, go put on something nice that was from me this time.” his lips were near your ears as his breath tickled down your spine. Without any hesitation, you nodded happily to your beloved before retreating to go back to your shared room.

Qin Shi Huang

You knew Qin as a child because of your affiliation with Chun Yan who introduced you two. You were treated like a daughter to her but she wasn’t your biological mother. You treated Ying as everyone else and not some creepy kid that everyone thought he was. Over time this made him fall for you and ask you to stay with him even after Chun Yan died.

Fast forward to the present as Qin Shi Huang— also known as Ying Zheng became king as he promised to Chun Yan. You still were by his side even when other nobles offered their daughters to him as concubines or an arranged marriage, he dismissed them all. Normally jealousy filled you and you thought there was no chance for a commoner like you could be his empress.

As you wandered the halls of his palace, you ran into one of the young maids who told you she had something for you. It was a very fine patterned robe that only nobles were granted to wear. “I can’t wear this, it’s forbidden for someone like me to—” she cut you off by telling you that it was fine and Qin said so. Qin?! Were you going to believe her? Did she have some ulterior motive? You reluctantly tried it on. It was dark red with flowers on it. The maid wasn’t around which was odd. Your former clothes were gone as well. Huh?!

You found the main hall looking for your room to possibly change, but Qin noticed you even with his blindfold on. Thank god he can’t see you with the noble robe on, right? “There you are, you had me worried for a minute.” He grabbed your arm but that was a mistake. He felt the expensive silk of the robe. The sleeves were long so of course he knew what kind of material you were wearing.

“Oh? It’s not like you to be wearing such a thing.” He chuckled before a smile appeared on his lips. He wasn’t mad?!

“Your maid told me to wear it and said that you were fine with it, but she left and took my clothes…” you frowned but Qin was more upset that someone was trying to get you in trouble. He could never get mad at you. You were too pure and kind. You had accepted him for who he is and stood by his side.

“Now tell me who it was, I’ll make sure she’ll get punished later.” You wanted to object but you can’t because he was your king. You nodded and felt bad that the maid would most likely lose her job. He still held onto you even though you were shaking a bit. He told you to wear more of those robes since they look good on you. Even just hearing him say that brought a bubbly feeling in your heart.

Thor

You were again stuck inside the Asgard palace bored again… The entire city was nearly destroyed by titans and many civilians were rebuilding their homes and businesses. You looked out of the window and spotted Forseti talking to a few of the officials. You loathed the man, he didn’t do anything during the invasion and only worried about Thor.

A knock was heard from your room, you had expected that Thor had returned but then you remembered he doesn’t knock. You grumbled a lowly come in and of course, Loki was at the door looking smug than ever. “The hell do you want?” You frowned, why would you ever be so hopeful that Thor would free his time up for you? You two weren’t even married either but acted like it. Odin had tried to forbid any relationship between you two, but Thor didn’t obey that order.

“Why so snarky? I just wanted to come to check up on my future sis-in-law,” he mocks that last part since the marriage thing was off the table. You didn’t say anything. Was he here to try to make you angry?

He quickly changed the subject and pulled out a small doll he made. “I made this, it does look like you, right? Here take it,” he put it next to you. It sort of creeped you out but you kept quiet. Were you terrified? Maybe.

“Why are you making voodoo dolls?” You detested the plushie and hoped Thor would come back sooner.

“Who said it was for that kind of sorcery? It’s just a gift! I swear!” Loki was faking his emotions while you quietly mumbled ‘whatever’ and reluctantly accepted it while holding the doll as he took his leave. What a weird guy…

Hours had passed by as you fell asleep on the couch but you had awoken to someone moving you. “You’re back?” You looked up to see Thor holding you with both of his arms. His expression wasn’t calm like usual. He seemed irritated. Did something happen?

“Mhm…” he was quiet but you saw how different his expressions were than usual.

“He came here when I was gone,” he grabbed the doll that was next to you squeezing it so hard that the head of the doll popped off. How his cousin was gifting you such things. Creepy things. Thor wanted to beat sense to him but held back his anger.

“Sorry, I didn’t know what he would do if I rejected it.” You frowned but Thor's left hand touched your cheek as you stared up at him. He genuinely smiled.

“He won’t hurt you… I’ll make sure of it.” The reassurance you wanted the most as you buried your face in his chest. You just wanted his comfort and nothing else.

Note: no eta when part 2 will come but if I do another it’ll probably be Susano’o, Buddha, Loki and Anubis. Edit: I forgot about Poseidon. So probably 5 characters for part 2.

[doodlebugg16-blog]

Drama

Azriel x reader

**18+ MDNI**

{Song Inspo}

Summary: You and Azriel are besties for the resties and share a common feeling of resentment towards the mother for not blessing you with a mate. Unfortunately you decide to search for distractions through many males and Azriel is forced to watch you destroy yourself from it. Warnings: Cassian and Rhys guest appearance, angst, depression, suggestive, sexual themes, violence, heartbreak, nonconsensual touching, mentions of y/n, she/her reader, usual ACOTAR warnings, don't worry it has a happy, kinda rushed ending A/n: I honestly wasn't expecting my other Azriel fic to be read by anyone haha so here's another one I've been thinking about. This is also unedited--sorry xoxo

Azriel and you have been friends since he was found his shadows. You were the first to come across the newly born shadowsinger and show him kindness. He never forgot it and it had bloomed into a friendship attached to the hip.

You're the only person to get through his stubbornness. He's the only person that can calm your short temper. Until lately.

You were double-checking your heels to make sure they were strapped correctly and doing a last fluff-up of your hair. Checking yourself in the full length mirror, you spotted Cassian walking past, heading to the kitchen.

"I love what you've done with your hair, how'd you get it to come out of your ears like that?"

You whipped around and scoffed, catching his shit-eating grin. You went to reach for a nearby book to throw at him but a voice cut you off.

"Cassian, you should check your nose before making such comments."

Rhys had wandered around me.

"What?!" Cass had covered his nose and rushed back to his room.

You laughed and turned back to the mirror. "Thanks, Rhys."

He smiled and nodded to the door. "Be safe tonight, Y/n."

You sighed and nodded. "I always am. I know how to protect myself thank you very much."

He snorted, "I'd almost feel sorry for the poor soul to have to face Azriel if something were to happen."

That made you smile. Azriel hated that you went out. He always made himself scarce when you got ready to leave.

Once you accepted the way you looked, you rushed out the door and into the night.

"I assume you're going to follow?" Rhys spoke to the shadows. "I am starting to get concerned. She's starting to leave every night." He turned to the darkest corner in the room.

Azriel emerged and grunted. "I'm worried too."

With that he vanished along with his shadows, following you.

Over the years, Azriel had felt his fondness grow towards you. As his feelings grew, he felt the distance growing with you. You were pushing yourself deeper in the night and loosing yourself during the day. Azriel knew you were distracting yourself ever since the last family gathering. Your drank yourself silly and confessed to have given up with the mate bullshit. Azriel had agreed and felt the same but he had no idea you would have given up this much. He had promised himself that he would save you.

Azriel had followed you to your usual underground club. He watched from afar and had his shadows on high alert. He noticed a smaller male strike up a conversation. You immediately giggling and engaging. It made him sick. Suddenly, you and the male were gone, Azriel's visons blocked by a new group passing in front of him. He huffed and made his way through the crowd, trying to spot you.

After a while without any luck, Azriel started getting worried. He sent his shadows to look for you.

You were being lead out the club by the small male. You usually didn't leave the club but you started to care less and less. The male entered and ally and pushed you up against the wall, kissing your neck. You had the sudden feeling you were being watched.

"H-hey, I think I'm going to call it a night." You tried to guide the male off of you. He then grabbed your wrists and held them to the wall on either side of your head.

"I'm not done with yet, pretty. Don't you wanna have my friends join?"

You furrowed your brows and looked deeper in the ally to spot two other males.

Shit. This isn't going to end well.

"Let go. I'm done." You tried again but the male was somehow stronger.

His hands then started to travel down your body and the other two males made their way closer. "I spiked your drink so don't try anything stupid."

Fuck. This is definitely not going to end well.

Before the two males could touch you, the shadows had swarmed you. You could hear the slashing of Truth Teller. Looking to the male holding you, smiling, "Good Luck." With that, he was yanked into the shadows. You heard a slash and a gargled yelp. Your held your wrists and a frown carved on your lips.

The shadows blurred into the ground, revealing Az. He rushed in front of you, gently taking your wrists in his scarred hands.

"He won't touch you again." He promised.

You looked up into his hazel eyes and blinked away tears. "I can't do this anymore Az. I don't think anyone is going to love me." Now you were sobbing. Azriel's eyes softened.

"Don't say that. You won't find someone like this."

"But it's true! I still don't have a mate and I have to sit around everyone while they are happy with theirs."

Azriel tilted his head. "Trust me, I know how that feels. But you don't need a mate to find someone to spend the rest of your life with. I'm here, right in front of you."

Your eyes widen at him. You shook your head and took your hands out of his. "What are you saying, Az?"

"I love you, Y/n. I can't keep watching you destroy yourself and I can't keep watching other males take advantage of you."

Sniffling, you give his shoulder a push. "You dummy, how long have you felt this way?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Should I have said something sooner?"

You laughed and wiped under your eyes. "Wayyyy sooner."

He leaned in, "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

His lips crashed to yours with nothing but passion and love. You wrapped you arms around his neck and sighed into the kiss. You pulled away and both stared into each others eyes. Suddenly, you felt a sharp tug in your chest, blooming a golden thread. You both gasp.

"No fucking way." You laughed. He joined in and held a hand to his chest.

When the laughter died down, he leaned in and rested his forehead to yours. "Let's get out of here, mate."

"Please." You sighed and leaned into his touch.

This definitely ended well.

[florence-end]

May I have this dance?

Azriel x fem!reader Part 2

Request: Could you write a shy reader × Azriel story? Thank you!

Warnings: none

Summary: Azriel’s new mate is painfully shy, despite his efforts to get closer to her. Something shifts between them when Mor needs help with Cassian’s dance lessons.

You heard Mor calling for you all the way from the dining room, which definitely meant she was up to no good if she hadn’t come to your office to talk to you directly. You set aside the book you were combing through, adding it to the pile of discarded volumes that you and Amren had been scouring for clues on how to beat Koschei. As the recently appointed head scholar of the night court, quietly reading in your office took up most of your time and was exactly how you liked it. Groups of people, social occasions, too much noise, it all made you nervous and you retreated even further into yourself than usual.

Preparing yourself for the whirlwind of energy that was the high lord and lady’s third in command, you made your way to the large dining room at the other end of the corridor. Music was playing inside, and as you pushed open the large wooden door, you were met with the sight of Mor dragging Cassian around in a waltz as he tried desperately to keep up with her speed. Rhysand and Feyre were also stumbling through the steps, looking only slightly more proficient than the clumsy warlord. Off to the side, leaning against the large table that had been pushed against the wall and looking far too amused, was Azriel.

His eyes moved to you immediately as though he couldn’t help himself, and he gave you a small smile and wave. You felt the muted rush of affection flood the bond before he could clamp down on it to avoid overwhelming you, and you gave a small smile back to let him know it was okay.

You and Azriel had met on your first day in the night court a month ago, and the bond had snapped right away. Although you were happy to finally meet your soulmate, your shy demeanour and nervousness when it came to interacting with strangers had caused you to panic a little and you kept your distance at first. He respected your feelings and had committed himself to gently courting you ever since.

Mugs of your favourite tea were waiting for you on your desk every time you left your office to search the library. Little trinkets and decorations for your bedroom were left neatly wrapped for you to find, always hailing from whatever court or country Azriel had most recently visited on his missions. He had taken to spending any downtime he had in your office, settled quietly in the armchair across from your desk and helping you work through the never-ending pile of research in comfortable silence. Once, when you were feeling particularly relaxed after a few glasses of wine at dinner in the river house, he dared to take you on an aerial tour of Velaris as he flew you back to the House of Wind. Just the memory of his secure arms holding you close to the warmth of his body while the chilly breeze whipped around you made your cheeks heat up.

The music came to an end and Mor turned to see you lingering in the doorway. “Perfect, you’re here! Please don’t hate me but I really need your help,” she pleaded. Mor explained that Cassian needed to learn to dance in order to impress Nesta on the next trip to the Court of Nightmares. She had asked Rhys and Feyre to attend the lesson so Cassian could see what the steps were supposed to look as Mor taught him the routines but it turns out dancing was not a talent possessed by the high lord nor the high lady.

“In my defence, I have never needed to dance at the court of nightmares, my role is to sit on the throne and look intimidatingly handsome. And I am fantastic at it,” Rhys protested as Mor continued to criticise his two left feet. Feyre had a better excuse, given she had mostly grown up poor in the human lands.

You giggled as Mor and Rhys bickered for a few more moments before she dismissed her cousin and his wife. They quickly bade their goodbyes and left the dining room hand in hand.

“If you’re going to ask me to dance, Mor, I should say now that I don’t know any of the night court routines,” you warned, knowing where this conversation was going and not liking it one bit.

“That’s alright! Luckily for us all, Azriel possesses all the grace that his brothers do not and he knows them all. He’ll lead and all you need to do is follow,” Mor declared, giving you no time to object as she grabbed your wrist and pulled you over to your mate who was watching your face for any signs of serious discomfort. “Az, show her the hold for the waltz and I’ll run over the steps with Cassian again,” she instructed and left you both on your side of the makeshift dance floor.

“You don’t need to do this, just say the word and I’ll winnow you back to your office before she notices,” Azriel offered kindly.

“No no it’s okay, I want to help plus Nesta is my friend and it’ll make her happy. But I really don’t know what I’m doing,” you murmured back quietly, twisting your hands in front of you.

Azriel offered you his hand in a silent question, letting you make the move to touch him. You know he’s sensitive about his scars and would never want to make him feel any more self conscious by hesitating so you slipped your fingers over his palm to link with his and looked up into his warm hazel eyes.

Although he’s flown with you a few times and you eat most of your meals sat next to each other, the proximity and intimacy of the moment flustered you immediately and you broke eye contact. You missed the flash of pride on Azriel’s face at the evidence of how much his presence affected you.

“Now put your other hand on my shoulder and I’ll place mine on your waist,” he explained and you obeyed his instructions without delay.

“A little closer,” he urged, using the hand on your waist to curl around your lower back and press you further into his chest. You were so close now that his scent hovered all around you, you could feel his warm breath brush across your cheek, and his shadows caressed the hand that lay on his broad shoulder as though wanting to prevent you from withdrawing your touch.

“Perfect,” he whispered, his lips inches from your ear. Mother above, this male was going to be the death of you. Your face couldn’t be any hotter if you were actually ablaze. “When the music starts, all you need to do is close your eyes and trust me.”

The reminder of why you were here burst your bubble as you felt your nerves return. “What if I trip or step on your feet?” You questioned anxiously, beginning it pull back from him.

His hands remained firm, keeping you in place. Once again, his whispers sent shivers along every inch of your skin. “I would never let you trip. And it would be an honour to have you step on my feet,” he teased, helping you relax.

“Okay are we ready to try this from the top?” Mor called from across the room. Azriel nodded on behalf of you both, and reminded you to close your eyes.

As the music began, you quickly started to wonder if the Illyrians gave as much dance training as they did for combat because Azriel was flawless. He moved with a quiet grace and certainty, leading you with such confidence that you didn’t have a chance to feel shy or anxious. Cassian’s cursing and stomping footsteps nearby told you that Azriel’s skills may not have been Illyrian-taught after all but you were feeling too giddy to give it much more thought.

One dance turned into two which turned into five. When the music came to an end half an hour later, Azriel released his hold on your waist and leaned back slightly to take in your dazed expression as your eyes fluttered open, chuckling lowly.

You hadn’t noticed that Mor and Cassian had left sometime while you were dancing, and for once in your life you weren't worrying about looking foolish or trying to find the right thing to say. All of your thoughts were consumed by this miraculous male in front of you who had quite literally whisked you off your feet. And to make it even better, he was looking at you as if you were miraculous too.

[licorice-tea]

Could I Be Loved By You? Pt. 2

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x reader, Usopp x reader, Nami x reader (separate)

Content: some suggestive jokes in usopp’s part, just general silliness besides that!

Word Count: 0.9k (total)

A/N: first time writing for all three of these characters- say whatttt! usopp’s part is my fave, but i love all of them!!! also if you check my master list for more content or anything, just know that im working on making it looks more aesthetically pleasing (it’s a mess right now😓) anyway thanks for reading and enjoy <3

Part 1

What happens when you ask them; “Do you think we’re together in every universe?”

Nami - 0.2k

With a singsongy voice, you announce your presence to Nami. “Babe!”

“Y/n!” She responds in a similar cadence. However, she doesn’t look up from drawing her map.

You round her desk so that you’re standing behind it, and she finishes off a line before setting down her pen. “What’s up?”

“I have a question for you.”

“Mhm…?”

“Ok. Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t laugh at you, babe.” Well, she might, but only out of endearment.

“So… Um, do you think that we would be together in every universe?”

Her lips, once pressed together in a resting expression, curve upwards. The shake of her shoulders is an unmistakable sign of held back laughter, which is only solidified by her hand covering her mouth.

“Hey! You said you wouldn’t laugh!” But in all fairness, you’re smiling too. It’s a silly sort of question.

“I’m not, I’m not!” She defends herself through giggles, then clears her throat.

“So, do you think so or not?”

Nami taps her chin with a smirk. “Yes. Yes I do.” The faintest blush colors her cheeks, though she’s much too proud to ever admit to being flustered by the idea. To think; you want to be with her just as badly as she does you, in any every lifetime or world where the two of you coexist. It’s enough to make even her swoon.

“Awww, so you do love me!” You tease. Your next course of action is to run out the door before she can (lovingly) hurl a book at you.

Monkey D. Luffy - 0.3k

You and Luffy are the last crewmates left at the table. Neither of you were late to dinner, nor were you ever. No, you had arrived to the dining room on time (even a little early), but he is still on his 3rd main course. Meanwhile, you are a slow eater. It’s no bother, though; you’d take almost any opportunity to spend time alone with Luffy.

With a soft smile, you tilt your head as you watch your boyfriend and captain stuff his face.

He pauses, noticing your staring. “What? Something on my face?” He licks his lips.

You shake your head. “I was just thinking.”

“Oh, ‘bout what?”

“Do you think we’re like this in every universe?”

“Like what? Still hungry? I know I am!”

“No,” you giggle, “I mean like… in love. A couple.”

This time, Luffy is the one to giggle at your curiosity. “What a weird question, y/n.” He cracks his blinding grin at you. “Of course we are.”

Luffy proceeds to stretch one arm around the back of your chair and pulls it closer to his. The proximity allows you to lay your head on his shoulder, and now everything feels right with the world…

Still, the “what if” scenario runs rampant in your imagination. “But if there is a world where we aren’t-“

“Just means we haven’t met yet.”

“… Hm. I guess you’re right.”

“Yeah, and I found you this time, right? So, I always will.” He says it all like it’s some simple, known truth. As if there are no doubts in his mind- nor should there be in yours- that you’re meant to be together. It’s not surprising though, given Luffy’s view on his own destiny. Naturally, yours is part of his, and vice versa.

With a simper, you swipe your thumb over the corner of his lips to brush away a crumb. “Or maybe I’ll find you.”

Usopp - 0.4k

You and Usopp like to play this sort of game where you ask each other questions. Sometimes they’re deep and introspective, others silly and random. It’s not really a game, per say, but… Well, it’s a fun little thing for when you’ve exhausted other topics of conversation or both of you are bored of other, cleverer topics.

“Ok, favorite temperature?”

“Favorite temperature? That's so specific!”

He chuckles. “Thats the point, baby.”

You hum in agreement before responding. “True… 74 degrees.”

“Celsius, or fahrenheit?”

“…Usopp.” You deadpan. “74 degree celsius would be, like…”

“Around 165 degrees fahrenheit.” He grins proudly. How some people, such as your boyfriend, are such naturals at mental math, you would never understand.

“Hmph… if you say so. But, yeah, why would I say my favorite temperature is 165 degrees fahrenheit?”

Usopp shrugs, “I wouldn’t put it past you; I know you like things hot.”

You’re too caught up in the way he leans toward you teasingly to notice his arms snaking around your waist. Without warning, he pulls you close to his chest. You shriek as Usopp spins you around, but your arms remain looped around his shoulders even after he sets you down.

“That was a dirty trick.”

“I think you enjoyed it.”

And you did, so you just smile and accept defeat. It’s your turn to ask a question now. “Do you think we’d be together in every universe?”

His smile falters. “I… Well, I don’t know.”

“…Oh.”

“I want to be, of course, I just…”

“Just what?”

“You have so many choices, y/n. Who’s to say you’d always choose me? I definitely wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, in this hypothetical alternate-“

Your lips stop his from moving with a forceful kiss. They linger there, just for a few moments, before you pull back less than an inch away. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Sorry.”

“And don’t apologize. I’d always choose you, Usopp, no matter what.”

His confidence grows back, along with his smile. “Then yes,” Usopp places another small peck to your lips and pulls away to gauge your reaction, “I think we would be together in every universe.”

Your eyes seem to shine with some emotion that could only be described as love. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

[dduane]

In the Young Wizards 'verse, how would the universe handle two wizard-potentials going for the same manual at the same time, like reaching for the same book at the library? Would it somehow magically duplicate itself? Would it avoid the question entirely by waiting to choose the potentials until later? Would either (or both) of them get a notification of the manual installing itself as an app on their phones, thus distracting them from grabbing the book? (So many options!)

The Young Wizards series is one of my all-time favorites, by the way. Thank you for putting it into the world ❤️❤️ I need to reread it again soon!

First of all: thanks for the nice words! Delighted that the books were there for you. 😊

As to your question: I'm not sure this is a problem that's likely to come up, for an array of reasons that have to do with the basic nature of YW-'verse wizardry.

Basically, though: every wizard (like every other human, and every other sentient being) occupies a unique temporospatial position that doesn't just involve where they are, and when they are, but who they are; as well as where they've been, and what they've experienced. Different people, born in different places and raised in different ways by other different people, are inevitably going to have different personalities and different worldviews... and therefore, also, different preferred ways to engage with wizardry.* The chances that a given instrumentality offered to a given person is going to be an exact or even near-exact duplicate of the one offered to another person are pretty small. I don't think we need to worry too much about the two-hands-reaching-for-the-same-Manual-at-the-same-time paradigm.

Bear in mind also that there are a lot of different ways to get at Speech-based wizardly info besides books. Offered instrumentalities can vary wildly due not just to cultural norms, but personal preferences. Someone who likes stories but doesn't care for reading physical books might have their Manual turn up as an (apparent) audiobook. (Or maybe a podcast: or a videoblog: who am I to judge?) After all, we've already had wizards who manage spells or otherwise engage with wizardry by listening to the Sea, acquiring the Speech through sentient laptops, hearing it as in-mind speech which they manage by (probably somewhat Speech-enhanced) memory; by direct communications with the Powers that Be via an (apparent) little magical light source they carry around with them, and numerous other methods. (And don't forget the slightly unusual instrumentality that turns up in the YW 30-Day OTP sequence, in which one new probationary wizard obtains his Manual access via what appears to be Tuxedo Mask's rose from Sailor Moon.) ...Additionally, I have a vague memory of one wizard carrying around a Manual access that seems to be the one and only Magic 8-Ball featuring answers that are not hazy. Don't ask me which book it's in, though. Might be Games Wizards Play, but that's a guess.

As for app installations—no reason that Manual access might not turn up as an app update. Also, in terms of dedicated devices, wizPads and wizPhones (formerly wizPods) have been around for a while now, and both have become canonical over time: Darryl McAllister's using one of the wizPhone-based Manual versions in A Wizard of Mars. (Though these may occasionally present problems for practitioners testing out a new paradigm.) As a wizard grows into their practice of the Art, it's not at all unusual to change instrumentalities as one finds something that works better for them than what the Powers sent them the first time out.

Anyway: hope this helps! 😀

*As for the probably inevitable question, "But what if they're twins?" To quote a well-known authority, "It's never twins." :) (And that said: starting with Wizards at War, we see that occasionally, it is twins... and I'm pretty sure they acquired their delivery instrumentalities separately, though I can't recall whether this gets dealt with in canon.)

[bitethedevil]

from what i’ve read up on with cambions, it sounds like such a horrible life. it makes me respect raphael a bit more, honestly. their mothers always die after giving birth to them, so they’re normally abandoned in the material plane. and then they’re rejected by both mortals and devils alike, albeit for different reasons.

the game makes it out like raphael has always been this big bad, but i bet that isn’t true. i’m sure he had to play the game of the hells and play it well to get to where he is when we first meet him

my soft heart wonders what it’d be like if a omeone were to fall for him, as dangerous and foolish as they KNOW it is. has he ever felt genuinely loved and admired? what would this look like?

i understand that he most likely could never feel emotions the way mortals do, even given his other non-devil half. but i wonder how he would react to that.

(i found a comment on a forum that i liked lol, them saying devils may love like cats do. selfishly and possessively)

I think he would be into affectionate gestures, but he sure as the Hells won’t admit it (which as you said, probably also stems from how taboo it is in the Hells and the fact that he does not want to appear weak). I think the cat comparison would be spot on.

He’d be researching something for a client and thrusts a book into your hand. Then he’d lay his head in your lap and guide one of your hands to his hair to massage his scalp and the other to the book and demand you to read out loud for him. He’d claim that: No, it is NOT because he likes it and it’s definitely NOT because he thinks your voice is pleasant to listen to. It’s simply more efficient and he has been working all day, so you might as well make yourself useful because he is TIRED. Now, read.  

Although, like a cat, I think it would all be on his terms. It’s when he feels like.

I also think this man would love receiving compliments and I don’t think he would be able to get enough of it. He’d live for someone who strokes his ego, and if the kind of affection that the other person gives him achieves that, I think he could get addicted to it. I think I’ve mentioned before: he would be so into someone who is just completely obsessed and infatuated with him.

That said, Raphael is a master at ‘playing human’ so if he is trying to manipulate someone into liking him or such, he can definitely play his part of affectionate human when it’s needed.

I also have a really dark headcanon that he has been in love when he was younger, but Mephistopheles but an end to it by getting rid of them (potentially why he sent him Haarlep instead). Just to remind his son that he isn't all that, because non-Archdevils aren't supposed to have sex or have consorts.

(Thank you for the ask and I love that you have already researched it. I am a slut for talking about lore <3)

(I’m also including two other asks in this one because I get a lot of questions about Raphael’s relationship with affection: “Do you think Raphael have/had romantic relationship? What will be his love language?” and “how would Raphael react to an affectionate tav?”)

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

🐴Chapter summary: When Mikrokosmos goes missing, you don’t know what to do and when Jimin suddenly starts talking to you, wanting to help find your horse, you’re not sure if you should accept or not. When you can’t find Mikrokosmos and have to spend a night with Jimin in the wide open land, will old feelings bloom? 🐴Chapter title: The First Touch 🐴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: explicit smut in the form of unprotected sex; sex in public (they are outside in nature by themselves), oral (both male and female receiving), very very brief anal play (female receiving), nipple play, hair pulling, sweet/dirty talk, pet name (babe), cock warming, multiple orgasms, a loooooooot of kissing (so much that it should be illegal), just very slow and tender love making. Jimin is very gentle, but he is also a devil 👿 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 16.4k (whoopps, but it’s smut!)

🐴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 💿 “The First Touch” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: hello, how are you doing? After weeks of leaving you high and dry and potentially crying, I finally come bearing a gift in the form of slow and sensual smut. I really hope you love it, otherwise, shame on you (I’m sorry I just really love it, and it will get dirtier later (yes, that was more smut promised!)). This chapter was so fucking fun to write, and can you belive I wrote it in a day? The last three previous chapters have been harder to write, because they were more angsty, but this, oh dear god, when I write smut and fluff, the words just flows differently 🥰 So I really hope that you enjoy this, I ended up turning myself on with the smut, so yeah… I hope that means that it is good, please let me know okay???

And I am so sorry for all the angst I put you through, if you need therapy like me, send me the bill, okay? 🥹 We also finally get some answers to Jimin’s behavior the last chapters!! I really hope you enjoy, and I hope you haven’t given up on this series 😭

PSA! For the ultimate reading experience, I recommend grabbing a warm blanket and something nice to drink (whatever you like; water, tea, cocoa etc) 🫂

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

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

“When I finally touch you Soft upon your skin You travel to the heart of me And so it begins” - ‘The First Touch’ by Rebecca Lavelle

You find yourself yearning for the ground to swallow you whole. The aftermath of the gala weighs heavily on your mind, and you’ve been evading Jimin ever since. Anger still lingers, but embarrassment overshadows it. Why on earth did you let yourself unleash such a torrent of emotions on him?

You release a frustrated groan, urging Marshmallow to stretch his stride, his powerful hooves churning up the earth beneath. The wind whips through your hair, carrying with it the anticipation of your imminent arrival at Bell Ranch.

Praying to avoid any encounter with Jimin or his undoubtedly furious girlfriend, you navigate the winding path to Bell Ranch with a knot of apprehension in your stomach. The thought of further embarrassment looms over you like a storm cloud, urging you to keep a low profile and escape unscathed.

Marshmallow ambles toward the pen, Yoongi immersed in his labor. Presently, his focus is on a horse adorned with a tapestry of brown and white spots, each stroke of his skilled hands an intimate dance with the wild spirit captured within the creature’s untamed gaze.

You bring Marshmallow to a stop, securing the reins to the fence, before settling into your customary perch. From this vantage point, you observe Yoongi, his hands orchestrating a ballet with the untamed energy of the horse.

Suddenly, a stir in the vicinity of the house catches your attention, prompting you to shift your gaze. There, you spot Jimin making his way toward you, an unusual limp in his stride suggesting he might have overexerted himself today. Despite the evident fatigue, he’s adorned in a button-down shirt, sleeves casually rolled up, revealing the golden hue of his skin and the well-defined contours of his biceps. A gentle breeze plays with his blonde locks as he traverses the yard.

A curiosity nags at you as you observe Jimin’s solitary figure, wondering about the absence of Deiji and the distant expression etched across his face, brows knit in contemplation. The air seems to carry the weight of his thoughts, leaving you to ponder what might be troubling him. Just as you’re caught in this web of speculation, the abrupt roar of an engine pierces the air, drawing your attention. Swiftly, Jimin mounts his blue dirt bike, tearing out of the yard with an intensity that propels him over hills and into the expanse of a distant paddock.

He’s likely headed off to some task, a sentiment that resonates with your own responsibilities awaiting attention. A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you shift your gaze back to Yoongi, his tender gestures toward the spotted horse capturing a moment of tranquility amidst the ranch’s bustling routine.

Yoongi’s playful grin widens as he teases, well aware that your attention involuntarily drifted towards Jimin once more. “How are you doing?”

A light chuckle escapes you. “Well, hanging in there. Just grappling with the lingering sense of embarrassment, you know?”

He erupts into laughter, the kind that reveals his gums and sets his chest into a hearty jiggle. “Got it. I heard Jimin’s girlfriend was less than thrilled with your little performance at the gala.”

You scoff, indifferent about his opinion. Regret lingers for your harsh words, a realization that an apology is overdue—a bridge you’ve yet to cross.

“I understand, but I was just so mad, and I couldn’t hold back,” you admit, your scuffed tone matching the internal storm that rages within, hands tightly clenched atop your legs.

“It’s alright. I don’t think Jimin minds. You’ve given him plenty to ponder,” he mentions, continuing to pat the spotted horse. Your raised eyebrow prompts him to elaborate.

“What do you mean?” you ask, curiosity sparking in your eyes, eager to understand his insinuation.

“The house has been unusually quiet since the gala. Maybe Jimin has taken your words to heart?” he suggests, eyebrows dancing in speculation. You scoff, skeptical of such a notion.

“Let’s shift the conversation, shall we? I’m done with Jimin,” you declare, though a part of you acknowledges that you’re far from finished with the unresolved tension. Uncertain whether you should approach Jimin – preferably without yelling this time – or wait for him to make the first move, you consider extending an apology to both him and Deiji.

Yoongi chuckles, orchestrating a rhythmic dance with the spotted horse as they traverse the pen at a leisurely pace. “Sure,” he replies with a hint of amusement in his voice.

A heavy sigh escapes you, and a pregnant pause lingers, only to be broken by Yoongi’s next words.

“I have a date with Hobi,” he announces, a radiant smile gracing his face, yet beneath the joy, a subtle tremor betrays a touch of nervous anticipation in his voice.

A grin spreads across your face, mirroring your genuine excitement. “That’s fantastic!” 

Your enthusiasm bubbles over, revealing just how genuinely thrilled you are for him.

Your eyes light up with genuine joy as you congratulate him, “I’m so happy for you, Yoon.” Your smile reflects the warmth and sincerity of your words.

A playful glint in his eyes, he teases, “Thank you, I’ll tell you how it goes.”

Anticipation bubbles within you, eager to hear the tales of their date, whenever they get to have it. As your thoughts wander, a silent wish lingers in the recesses of your mind—hoping for a touch of joy not just for Yoongi but for yourself as well, because you both deserve it, dammit.

“Are you ready to get Mikrokosmos home?” Yoongi’s question jolts you from your daydreams, nudging your focus back to reality. You silently curse yourself for entertaining thoughts about how their date would go and then your mind instantly wanders to sex. Damn, you really need to get laid. Why does your mind always have to go there?

You laugh nervously, your excitement bubbling to the surface. “Absolutely! I can’t wait to welcome Mikrokosmos home at last.”

“I’ll wrap things up here, and then we can ride her home together, sound good?” he suggests, a hopeful smile lighting up his face. You eagerly nod; a ride with the wind in your hair always has a way of soothing your heart.

As Yoongi wraps up his work with the spotted horse, coaxing it into accepting the halter, you watch attentively. Once done, he opens the gate, guiding the horse into a paddock. Together, you make your way to the stables to saddle up Mikrokosmos.

With unwavering patience, you nuzzle Mikrokosmos gently as you expertly fit the bridle and saddle onto her. Leading her out of the barn, you make your way down to the pen where Marshmallow awaits, tethered to the fence.

“Mind if I take Marshmallow? Later, Soo-ah or Ara can give me a ride home,” he proposes, deftly unfastening the reins from the fence. With a fluid motion, he swings one leg over Marshmallow’s sturdy back, securing himself in the saddle.

With a nod, you replicate the motion with Mikrokosmos. Grasping the stirrup, you press your weight onto your foot, smoothly swinging your body over the black mare’s back. A soft, airy whinny escapes her as you settle into the saddle.

“Let’s go!” you exclaim with enthusiasm, gently pressing your legs against Mikrokosmos’s side. She eases into a lazy canter before bursting into a steady gallop. Yoongi follows in your wake, and together, you ride over the hills, the sun casting a warm glow on your skin. In companionable silence, you savor the moment, connecting with nature and the rhythmic pulse of the horses beneath you.

Your heart races within your chest as you revel in the sensation of riding Mikrokosmos. Her movements feel like a dance, as if she’s carrying you to extraordinary places. Today, that destination is home. The anticipation builds as you look forward to having your horse with you at last. Countless hours of hard work have led to this moment, and the thought of bringing her home fills you with excitement and satisfaction.

The wind gently tousles your hair as you grip the reins, relishing the familiar sensation of freedom while riding. There’s a profound joy in being so intimately connected with nature. This feeling, the rush of wind, the rhythmic gait of the horse—it’s something you’ve truly missed. Since your dad took you away from the ranch, you’ve felt the absence keenly. Now, as you ride, you’re determined to reclaim everything you lost, to rediscover the simple yet profound joys that the ranch offers.

In no time, you and Yoongi arrive back at the familiar embrace of home. Guiding your horses up to the barn, you expertly stow them away, each finding comfort in their respective stalls.

As you and Yoongi make your way to the house, the air is suddenly pierced by the thunderous roar of an engine. Turning, you spot Jungkook’s sleek bike charging into the yard, your sister snugly positioned behind him. With a smooth halt, he steadies the bike, kicking the stand into place and plants his boots on the ground, unveiling his disheveled black hair as he removes the helmet. Following suit, Jessi frees her own brown locks, letting them playfully dance around her face in the breeze, a tandem display of casual grace as the bike’s engine settles into a quiet hum.

Your hand rises in a friendly wave, reciprocated by the warm smiles adorning both Jungkook and Jessi’s faces as they draw near.

“Hi,” resonates in perfect harmony from both, your sister’s fingers intimately intertwined with Jungkook’s. A twinge of happiness for them pulls at your heart, yet it’s hard not to let a tinge of personal sadness creep in as well.

Yoongi strolls up to Jungkook, nodding toward the bike, “Mind if I borrow that to ride home, in case you’re crashing here?”

Jungkook laughs and gives a casual nod, “Sure thing. Jessi’s playing chauffeur for me tomorrow.”

Yoongi grins with satisfaction, sharing a quick hug and bidding you farewell. He hops onto the dirt bike, revving the engine to life, the sound echoing through the air.

You stand there, watching as Yoongi rides off into the distance, a cloud of dust rising in his wake, the roar of the engine gradually fading into the peaceful surroundings.

“I’m going to grab a quick snack before dinner, do you want some?” You cast a casual glance toward your sister and Jungkook as you leisurely make your way toward the house.

“As long as it’s a sandwich, count me in,” Jungkook chuckles, with your sister in tow. The duo follows you into the house and converges in the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you survey the available ingredients for sandwich-making. Jungkook and Jessi settle at the small table on the side, eagerly anticipating the creation of the culinary delights.

You retrieve the bread, butter, and a medley of ham and cheese from the fridge. Your hands move with a rhythmic grace, deftly assembling the ingredients, all the while humming the sweet melody of a love song that resonates in the air.

“Have you talked with Jimin since the gala?”Jungkook’s question punctures the air, shattering the peaceful rhythm of your sandwich-making. The ingredients lay untouched as you turn your attention to him, his words echoing in the kitchen.

Without turning away from the task at hand, you respond to Jungkook’s inquiry, your voice laced with a mix of uncertainty and a tinge of regret. “No, and I’m not sure he even wants to talk to me after everything that happened.”

As you continue working, your back facing Jungkook and your sister, you sense his understanding nod and his voice carries a gentle insistence. “I really think you should talk to him this time.”

You pivot, your eyes locking onto Jungkook, a giant question mark etched across your face. 

“Why?” You inquire, curiosity and a hint of reluctance evident in your expression.

A sly smirk lingers on his lips, aggravating you further. The infuriating knowledge he possesses irks you to no end. “I think he has something to tell you,” he teases, and you find yourself caught between irritation and curiosity. A sarcastic chuckle escapes your lips as you refocus on the sandwiches, allowing the knife to slice through them, the sharp blade echoing your conflicted emotions.

“Here,” you offer, presenting Jungkook with a plate laden with half a dozen sandwiches, though your sister politely declines any.

You snatch one for yourself, shooting a casual yet meaningful glance back at them, “Enjoy.”

Savoring each bite of the sandwich, you ascend the stairs to your bedroom, where your eyes linger on the canvas mounted on the easel. The palette has shifted, with softer tones emerging – hints of pink intermingling with delicate whites and purples, forming a composition reminiscent of a blossoming cherry tree.

Sinking into the soft embrace of your bed, a cascade of thoughts floods your mind. The weight of an overdue apology to Jimin and his girlfriend hangs over you, a lingering echo from the turbulent gala. Yet, Jungkook’s mysterious hint at something he knows adds an intriguing layer to your contemplation. Recognizing the need for resolution, you resolve to extend the olive branch of an apology first, aiming to pave the way for a more composed and genuine conversation with Jimin. The anticipation of what both interactions might unveil stirs within you, pushing you to take the first step towards reconciliation.

In an unexpected twist of events, you drift into an unplanned slumber, the embrace of sleep enveloping you so thoroughly that dinner becomes a distant echo. No one ventures to rouse you, and you awaken later on your bed, a half-eaten sandwich still clutched in your hand. The rhythmic resonance of hooves reverberates, drawing you to the window. A herd of wild horses, led by the imposing brown stallion, unfolds in the yard, remarkably close. Its flaring nostrils and challenging hoof scratches paint a vivid picture of defiance. Despite the intriguing spectacle, weariness tugs at you as you wearily retreat to your bed.

A disquieting sensation grips you, seeping into the very marrow of your bones and settling like a heavy stone in the pit of your stomach. An unsettling intuition whispers that things are amiss, and you can’t shake the ominous feeling that something, somewhere, has gone terribly wrong.

Emerging from your bed, your hair a tousled bird’s nest, you scan the room, finding the familiar unchanged. In the bathroom, the routine of brushing your teeth provides a momentary distraction as foam swells in your mouth, only to be expelled and washed away. The warm shower cascades over you, but an indefinable unease persists. Hastily drying off, you return to your room, donning a shirt and pants with urgency. Boots secured, hat in hand, you bound down the stairs, a sense of urgency propelling each step.

Entering the kitchen, a picture of concern greets you — Jungkook, your sister, Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin all wear furrowed brows, leaving you bewildered as to the unfolding situation.

“What’s happened?” You urgently inquire, your voice tinged with a mix of apprehension and foreboding, a silent acknowledgment that your unsettling intuition might have been onto something significant.

“The herd of wild horses were here last night,” Jungkook informs, a flicker of annoyance crossing his gaze as it shifts from your sister to you.

“Half of the horses are missing,” she exclaims, her voice tinged with frustration, a deep sigh escaping her. You stand there, gaping at them, a sinking feeling settling in. Half of the horses gone? The implications of this revelation weigh heavily on your mind, leaving you bewildered and searching for answers.

“How in the world are half of the horses missing?” you demand, furrowing your brows in disbelief. Nausea churns in your stomach as you contemplate which horses might be gone, a sense of urgency and worry gripping your every thought.

In a calm voice, Ha-rin explains, “It was the stallion. He kicked down the fence, and the horses bolted…”

You nod solemnly. Yoongi’s cautionary words about the troublesome stallion echo in your mind.

Your voice trembles with fear as you ask, “Which paddock?”

Jessi’s voice drops, “The East paddock,” she says, her anger seeping into every word as she sinks into a chair.

Realization crashes over you like a tidal wave. After stalling Mikrokosmos for the night, you released her into that same East paddock for some freedom—whatever freedom a fenced enclosure could offer. Oh, no. Could Mikrokosmos be among the missing horses?

“Mikrokosmos?” The word escapes your lips, a desperate plea wrapped in the echo of your worst fears. You don’t need them to confirm it; the sinking weight in your chest tells you everything. The truth is etched across their faces, mirroring the dread that’s settled in your bones since you woke up.

Fury courses through Jessi’s words as she spits out the painful truth, “She’s gone too, along with some of the other mares.” Her hand crashes down on the table, a symphony of anger and frustration. Jungkook steps in, his calming touch a feeble attempt to soothe the storm unleashed.

Hatred drips from Jessi’s words like venom as she rages, “That’s why I hate those damn wild animals! Always stealing our horses. That stallion probably wanted Mikrokosmos back…” Her words pierce the air, causing an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. Is she implying this is somehow your fault?

You begin to protest, “I didn’t have anything to do with this,” but Jessi dismisses your words with a quick and dismissive wave.

“I don’t think you did. I’m not blaming you. I’m just furious at that wretched stallion,” she explains, her anger palpable and raw, but there’s a softer edge to her words too.

It’s a relief to know she doesn’t pin this on you, that you’re not burdened with the blame. A soft sigh escapes your lips.

“So, what’s the plan then?” You inquire, scanning the faces in the crowded kitchen, a sense of urgency in your voice.

“We need to mend that fence, Jungkook, can we count on you for help?” Your sister implores, turning to him with a hopeful expression. He responds with a firm nod and a reassuring grip on her shoulder.

“Of course.”

“Feel free to track down the wild horses and check if you can locate them. Unfortunately, we’re short-handed today,” your sister suggests, rising from her seat and gazing out the window.

“No worries. I’ll head over to Yoongi and see if he can spare some time to join me,” you assure them with a gentle smile. Beneath the surface, a mix of sadness and frustration bubbles as you long for Mikrokosmos to return.

With determined steps, you rush out of the house and bound up to the stables, the urgency echoing in your every movement. In the quiet embrace of the stable, Marshmallow awaits, his presence a comforting balm to your racing thoughts. Swiftly, you open the door, embracing him in a soft hug before gearing him up with a bridle and saddle. Together, you emerge from the barn, and with a decisive leap, you saddle up, urging Marshmallow into a gallop, heading towards the Bell ranch with determination in your heart.

The wind tenderly weaves through your hair once more, a melancholic symphony echoing the turbulence within. Fueled by a potent mix of sorrow and frustration, your heart clenches with a resolute desire to reclaim what’s rightfully yours. Your grip tightens around the reins, a silent vow etched in your clenched fists, urging Marshmallow to race faster, the earth stirs in a tumultuous dance beneath his thundering hooves.

The pen materializes on the horizon, and there, amidst the rhythmic ballet of wild horses, you spy Yoongi immersed in his labor. Urging Marshmallow to a thunderous gallop, you charge towards the pen. With an abrupt tug on the reins, the air fills with the gritty harmony of skidding hooves as Marshmallow halts, an abrupt punctuation that seizes Yoongi’s attention. Descending from Marshmallow, you plant your feet on the ground with a flourish, the dust settling around you like a curtain call.

“What’s wrong?” He queries, a flicker of concern lighting up his features, as your uncharacteristic entrance sends ripples of tension through the air. 

“The damn stallion,” you seethe, your breaths punctuated with fury, “he’s run off with Mikrokosmos.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen in shock, but without hesitation, he declares, “I’ll help you search for her.” You nod in gratitude as he leads his brown horse out of the pen, and you guide Marshmallow to the stables, anticipation coursing through both of you.

Prepared and determined, you and Yoongi lead your horses by the reins out to the yard, a shared sense of urgency fueling your quest to find Mikrokosmos.

Yoongi gathers the reins in his hand and directs your focus to the task at hand, “We’ll start looking at the Eastern paddock, okay?” Just as the urgency builds, Jimin emerges from his house, adding an unexpected twist to the unfolding events. You shoot him a questioning look as he stands before you, curiosity and apprehension blending in your gaze.

“What are you up to?” Jimin questions, catching both you and Yoongi off guard. The unexpectedness of his inquiry leaves you standing there, dumbfounded, your shared silence reflecting the tension that lingers between you and Jimin.

“The wild stallion snatched Mikrokosmos last night; we’re going to search for her,” Yoongi explains, his voice filled with urgency, his movements swift as he places his foot in the stirrup and gracefully swings his body over the horse’s back. The gravity of the situation hangs heavy, and you can feel the collective determination to retrieve your horse cutting through the morning air.

“I can help,” Jimin offers, his voice carrying a light and airy tone that catches you off guard. You stare at him, momentarily questioning your senses—did he really just say that? The unexpected offer hangs in the air, and you’re left wondering what might be going on in his mind.

Yoongi and you both fixate on him, and Jimin responds with a soft chuckle, the contours of his chest subtly moving beneath his shirt.

“I can assist. That way, Yoongi can focus on his tasks,” he suggests, approaching Yoongi and motioning for him to dismount so they can swap positions. Yoongi glances at you, seeking approval for the change. Meanwhile, you continue to stare blankly at both Yoongi and Jimin. The situation feels oddly surreal—Jimin offering to help you search for your horse, especially considering the tense silence since the heated exchange at the gala. This ride might just turn out to be the most awkward one of your life.

“Sure,” Yoongi concedes, dismounting from the horse. He hands the reins to Jimin, who skillfully collects them in his hands. With a swift motion, Jimin places his boot in the stirrup and swings his body over the horse, mirroring Yoongi’s earlier move.

Silent as a shadow, you remain grounded, words held captive within the walls of your thoughts.

With a subtle tug on the reins, Jimin redirects the horse, casting a teasing glance your way, “Are you coming or what?”

Jimin’s playful remark snaps you back to the present, and without a second thought, you slip your foot into the stirrup, effortlessly swinging your leg over Marshmallow’s back.

You trail behind Jimin, bidding farewell to Yoongi, who lingers with a knowing smile. Silently cursing him for abandoning you in the company of Jimin, you brace for the imminent awkwardness. Despite the uncertainty, the urgency of finding Mikrokosmos eclipses any reservations—you’re grateful for any help that might lead to her return.

Jimin confidently guides his horse, setting the pace as you both return to your ranch. The eastern paddock looms ahead, where Jungkook and Jessi ardently mend the broken fence. Their curious gazes lock onto you, expecting Yoongi but finding Jimin at your side instead.

Venturing deeper into the forest, the towering trees cast a verdant embrace around you. Silence hangs heavy between you and Jimin, a palpable tension that begs to be shattered. It dawns on you that speaking up might be the only way to dispel this awkward atmosphere before it becomes a permanent fixture.

Amidst the rustling leaves and dappled sunlight, you finally muster the courage to break the awkward silence. “I’ve been meaning to say, I’m sincerely sorry about the gala. I hope my words didn’t cross a line with you or upset Deiji too much,” you confess, your gaze sweeping through the foliage in search of any sign of the elusive wild horses.

His laughter dances through the air, a warm melody amid the rustling leaves. “It’s fine. Did it feel good getting off your chest?”

A subtle blush graces your cheeks, and you admit, “It did. I’m still sorry, though. Sorry that your girlfriend had to hear that, and for pointing at her like that.”

You release a soft sigh, reminiscing about the regrettable way you conducted yourself.

He laughs again, the sound echoing like sweet melodies in your ears, yet the mystery behind his continuous laughter leaves you utterly perplexed.

“She did not like it,” he starts, weaving his words with the rustling leaves as you venture into uncharted territory beneath the expansive canopy of a towering, ancient tree.

“I deeply regret my words and actions,” you offer in earnest, the weight of remorse evident in your voice.

“It’s fine. We actually broke up,” his words hang in the air, a revelation that jolts you, and you swivel your head towards him so swiftly you fear a case of emotional whiplash.

Your words tumble out rapidly, laced with uncertainty, as you press him for answers, “You broke up? Why?” The shifting dynamics between you two send your heart racing, and the reins in your sweaty palms seem to tighten with anticipation.

In a hushed tone, he reveals, “She was tired of being compared to you.” 

His voice carries a soft, steady cadence, devoid of anger, as though he’s entrusted you with a profound secret. He turns to face you, a gentle smile playing on his lips, revealing his slightly crooked teeth. His eyes disappear behind lowered eyelids as he adds, “She isn’t you.”

A suspended moment, as if time itself hesitates, your heart momentarily halts its rhythmic dance within your chest. Breath catches, and for a beat, you’re left in breathless suspension—did he truly utter those words? The weight of his revelation seeps into your weary frame, and a blossoming warmth unfurls within your chest. The air lightens, the sun bestows its gentle touch on your skin, and you find yourself smiling at him, words caught in the surge of emotions.

“I also had a conversation with Yoongi,” he reveals, and you find yourself gaping in astonishment. The horses have settled into a leisurely walk, a welcome reprieve as you grapple with the influx of information, making it nearly impossible to focus on the ride.

“He mentioned the kiss,” he confesses, and you detect a glimmer of pain in his eyes. Yet, it doesn’t weigh as heavily as it once did; there’s a newfound lightness in his demeanor as he continues, “Yoongi explained that he’s gay, and that the kiss was merely a friendly gesture.”

You nod, each word he utters peeling away layers of weight from your shoulders. It’s precisely the message you’ve been struggling to convey all along. However, you hesitated to betray Yoongi’s confidence by revealing it. Yet, confessing to Hoseok about Yoongi’s feelings for him seemed to work wonders, paving the way for their upcoming date.

“That’s what I desperately wanted to convey that day, you know... but you slammed the door shut in my face,” you confess, a tinge of sorrow sweeping over your heart at the memory of the pain etched on Jimin’s face that day. While you comprehend the source of his hurt and anger, the lingering confusion remains about why he refused to engage in conversation or hear your side of the story.

“I’m sorry. I was just so hurt at the time. Later, when I noticed how close you were to Yoongi, I jumped to conclusions and assumed you were dating him,” he chuckles, the sound carrying a tinge of sadness as he reminisces about the past. “Fortunately, he clarified things for me, assuring me that you two are just friends and always have been.”

“That’s right. We’re just best friends. Honestly, he’s like the annoying brother I never asked for,” you chuckle, a weight lifting off your shoulders. Yet, an indescribable sensation begins to bloom within your chest, a mix of warmth and tingles, leaving you intrigued by its unfamiliar presence.

“I’m so sorry. I really should have talked to you and listened. I’m so sorry.” As Jimin utters his apology, his voice echoes with remorse, a melody of regret that resonates within you. It’s a bittersweet symphony, soothing to finally hear, yet you ponder the missed opportunities for dialogue that could have averted the storm unleashed by this stupid mistake and now your recent outburst. The apology, though overdue, forms a bridge between you, and you find solace in the fact that, at last, you stand on the same side of understanding. 

“I had hoped for you to listen back then as well. But, let’s leave the echoes of the past behind, shall we?” Your suggestion carries the weight of anticipation, a sense of hopeful exploration into uncharted territories. He nods in agreement, yet a palpable silence, thick with the unsaid, envelops you both. The journey continues in quietude, but within that stillness, you sense the unspoken words echoing in the lingering gaze of his brown eyes, a silent conversation that paints the canvas of possibility.

As twilight descends and the hours in the saddle accumulate, your fatigue is etched into the soreness of your seat. The weariness must surely weigh on Jimin too, his body silently protesting the prolonged ride. Amidst the encroaching darkness, Mikrokosmos remains elusive, a mystery yet to unfold, and the elusive presence of the wild horses eludes your diligent search.

Frustration settles over you like a heavy cloak, and an audible sigh escapes your lips, carrying the weight of your disappointment. Just as the gloom threatens to deepen, a rebellious rumble emanates from your stomach, capturing Jimin’s attention and coaxing a playful laugh from him.

“Hungry?” His question, a beacon of concern, draws a nod from you, and you respond by absently rubbing your stomach as if coaxing it to silence the persistent growls of hunger.

As the undeniable pangs of hunger echo through your stomach, you admit with a rueful tone, “I forgot to eat before we left,” the regret audible in your voice.

In a gentle yet scolding tone, he remarks, “That’s not good, you know. It’s important to eat.” Leaning towards you, he suggests, “I think we should call it a day and head back. It’s getting late anyway.”

As you nod, a flicker of disappointment crosses your face. The elusive search for Mikrokosmos remains unfulfilled today. Yet, a spark of hope ignites within you as you remind yourself, there’s always tomorrow, right?

“Then you can get something to eat, a good night’s sleep and then I’ll pick you up tomorrow and we can continue the search?” His soft smile and warm, glowing brown eyes captivate you, quickening your heartbeat. With a hopeful nod, you sense something stirring deep within your stomach — a sensation that goes beyond hunger, something akin to the birth of hope.

The rhythmic tapping on your door pulls you from slumber, and you respond with a drowsy yet receptive, “Yes?”

You emit a groan of protest as the door inches open, revealing a fully alert Jimin. Clad in a snug white tee, its slight transparency inadvertently exposing the soft hue of his pink nipples, you chide yourself for letting your gaze linger. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you note his dark blue jeans, strategically torn at the knees, leaving you curious if it’s a deliberate fashion choice or a result of untamed adventures. His hands nonchalantly find refuge in his pockets, drawing your attention to the pronounced veins that traverse his arms, subtly visible in the soft light of dawn.

As you rise from your bed, a sudden awareness floods your mind, recalling the choice of your sleepwear—a camisole paired with shorts that might be deemed too short for comfort. Hastily, you reach for the duvet, intending to conceal a portion of your body, only to inadvertently accentuate the contours of your chest. The fabric presses against your breasts, and you can’t help but notice the subtle shift in his gaze, his eyes lingering on the unintended display of cleavage.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he chuckles, advancing deeper into your room. His gaze sweeps across the array of your personal belongings, lingering on the easel in the corner adorned with a painting bursting with vibrant hues— a stark contrast to your previous, darker works. Despite your eye roll, you pull yourself out of bed, allowing the duvet to cascade from your body. In that moment, you sense his eyes tracing every contour of your nearly naked form.

“Just a minute,” you reply, swiftly retrieving a t-shirt and pants from your closet, tossing them onto the bed. Jimin’s gaze lingers on you, a subtle intensity that sets your hair on fire, the air thick with an indescribable energy. “Mind if I take a shower first?” you ask, breaking the charged silence.

He chuckles, running a hand through his tousled blonde hair. “No time for that. Besides, you already smell nice.” His playful demeanor adds a spark to the moment, making you smile in spite of the urgency.

A blush tints your cheeks. Did he just say you smell nice? You did take a bath yesterday after dinner, but you’re not entirely convinced you actually smell nice. Nevertheless, he’s spot on about time slipping away – you can’t afford to lose daylight like you did yesterday.

“Fine,” you hiss, the word escaping through a playful smirk. Chuckling softly, you grab your clothes from the bed and dash out of your room, disappearing into the bathroom. 

Returning to your bedroom, you discover Jimin holding a photograph featuring the three of you. His smile reflects the captured moment as you take the frame from his hand. “I found it a few weeks ago. Isn’t it just adorable?” The warmth of nostalgia floods the room, threading through the air as the image triggers shared memories.

A smile graces your face as you gaze at the photograph capturing the innocence of childhood, featuring you, your sister, and Jimin at the tender age of eight. Bright, childish smiles illuminate the image, with chubby cheeks and round faces. You and your sister playfully squish Jimin in the middle, a moment frozen in time that radiates cuteness. Reflecting on it, you marvel at the transformation; once adorable, Jimin now exudes a different allure, an almost dangerous charisma, akin to the allure of sin.

“It was good times,” nostalgia colors his words as a warm smile graces Jimin’s lips. Without a word, he walks past you, hand reaching out to intertwine with yours, a gentle pull guiding you downstairs to the kitchen. In that touch, echoes of good times and cherished memories bridge the gap between past and present.

“Here you go,” Ha-rin offers you a bundle of carefully prepared food, a thoughtful gesture that instantly makes you feel cared for. Simultaneously, Jimin secures water bottles, gearing up for the day’s journey. The barn becomes a hub of activity as his sleek black horse stands poised, laden with sleeping mats and saddlebags filled with provisions. The air buzzes with anticipation as you prepare for the adventure ahead.

“You’re really prepared,” amused by the thorough preparations, you share a light chuckle while heading into the stable to retrieve Marshmallow, your trusted companion for the impending journey.

“Yeah, that way, if we still don’t find her, we can just sleep out there instead of having to ride all the way back and start over again tomorrow.” His practical explanation resonates with you as you prepare Marshmallow, donning him with a bridle and securing the saddle. Anticipating the possibility of an extended search, you fasten saddlebags, graciously accepting the additional supplies from Jimin, ensuring you’re well-equipped for the journey ahead.

His strategic approach resonates, and you nod in agreement, a surge of determination coursing through you as you gear up for the mission to locate Mikrokosmos.

Guiding Marshmallow from the stable into the morning sunlight, you revel in the warmth that has lingered for months. With reins in hand, boots in the stirrups, and a shared determination with Jimin, you swing into the saddle, urging your horses into a brisk trot toward the Eastern paddock.

The silence becomes a tangible presence, weaving an awkward tapestry around you. Armed with the knowledge of Jimin’s recent breakup, a peculiar tension lingers. He’s now within reach, available, and your desire for him simmers beneath the surface. The challenge lies in navigating this uncharted territory, uncertain of how to bridge the gap between longing and action.

After a few hours in the saddle, you take a well-deserved break, replenishing your energy with a quick snack and a sip of water. The brief pause allows you to catch your breath, fortifying yourself before embarking on the ongoing quest to find Mikrokosmos.

Between bites of the delicious sandwiches Ha-rin crafted for you, you cast a concerned glance at Jimin. 

“Are you okay?” Your attention focuses, especially on his leg, as you inquire about his well-being.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he reassures you, as though casually dismissing the likely pain he’s enduring.

“I know that long rides can strain your leg, and I don’t want you to push yourself too hard,” you express with concern, your voice softening. The last thing you want is for him to endure any pain because of you.

“It’s okay,” despite his soft smile and dismissal, you can’t shake the feeling that he’s in pain. It reflects in the furrow of his forehead and the way he favors his left leg, dragging his right leg more than usual. Stubborn, you think, as you let him have his way, but deep down, you know he’s masking the discomfort.

As you take a sip of water, you gently probe, “I remember you telling me about your accident, but what was it like for you afterward?”

With a gentle smile, he begins, “As I told you earlier, I underwent surgery after the accident. It lasted for hours, leaving me with numerous scars on my hip. I despise them; they keep reminding me of that day,” his voice resonates with a mix of sadness and lingering anger. “It happened when I was alone, unable to move or feel my legs. My foot was trapped in the stirrup, the horse struggling to rise immediately after the fall.”

Empathy wells up within you as he recounts the harrowing details. It sounds truly dreadful. Reflecting on the first time he mentioned the incident, you realize he held back so many of these distressing details.

As he exhales, a poignant mixture of sadness and defeat tinges his voice. “Finally, the horse got up and ran off, presumably back home. A few hours later, Jungkook found me and took me to the hospital,” he shares, his recollection carrying the weight of a painful memory.

“Learning to walk again was also pretty hard. But I managed,” he confides, a resilient smile lighting up his eyes. In that moment, you find yourself smiling back, realizing the depth of his strength. Despite the pain, he’s willingly embarking on this quest with you—a testament to the extraordinary kindness that defines this man. He is truly too kind for his own good.

“I’m so sorry,” you utter, a genuine ache in your voice, yearning to alleviate even a fraction of the pain etched across his features.

“It’s life, I guess,” he murmurs with a touch of vulnerability, his shoulders lifting in a nonchalant shrug as he concludes his sandwich, deftly stowing away the remnants into the saddlebags.

“Ready to continue?” He inquires, rising to his feet and dusting off his pants. Following suit, you tidy up, brushing away the dirt from your clothes. Grabbing the reins of Marshmallow, you mount him once more. With the sky shifting from orange to purple in the approaching dusk, the urgency propels you to search fervently for Mikrokosmos.

You’re hit with a wave of disappointment as the realization sinks in that Mikrokosmos won’t be found today either. Frustration knots in your stomach, and a heavy sigh escapes, echoing your dejected feelings.

“We will continue tomorrow,” under the star-studded sky, Jimin’s comforting words envelop you like a gentle embrace. The vast expanse of the open land, with trees and mountains on the horizon, hints at the distance you’ve covered—perhaps even farther than the previous day. Tomorrow holds the promise of a new search, a fresh chance to reunite with Mikrokosmos.

“Fine.”

Resigned, you dismount Marshmallow, carefully removing his bridle and saddle, placing them on the ground with a sense of weary determination. Jimin mirrors your actions with his own horse, unfurling sleeping mats that create a makeshift bed beneath the starlit sky. Blankets join the ensemble, and side by side, you both recline, gazing upward. The stars, like distant diamonds, twinkle in the vast canvas of the night sky, creating a breathtaking image of beauty.

As you lay there, surrounded by the gentle rustling of grass and the fragrant whispers of wildflowers, a part of you can’t help but believe that this is the stuff dreams are made of. The soft earth cradles you, a natural mattress beneath the vast expanse of the cosmos, each star above a guardian in the nocturnal symphony orchestrating your descent into slumber.

The night breeze plays a gentle melody around you, and you sense Jimin shifting beside you. Your eyelids flutter open, and you gracefully turn your head to meet his presence in the tranquil darkness.

“You know that brother’s talk…” in the hushed embrace of the nocturnal wilderness, Jimin’s voice resonates like a sacred incantation. He breaks the silence with a low, calm tone, his words weaving through the night’s symphony of your shared breaths, distant crickets, and the flickering dance of fireflies.

His words, like an unexpected gust of wind through the serene night, jolt you awake. Tension grips your body, and a nervous gulp escapes your throat, shattering the fragile cocoon of impending sleep.

His words cut through the tranquil night, each syllable heavy with the weight of his vulnerability. In the dimness, his eyes lock onto yours, revealing a hurt that lingers like a shadow, haunting the depths of his gaze. “It really hurt... seeing you with Jungkook,” he confesses, laying bare the ache that still throbs within him.

As your heart sways with remorse, your hand moves instinctively, bridging the gap between you and Jimin. Gently, your fingers trace the contours of his cheek, a silent apology etched in the tender gesture. “I’m so sorry. Both that it happened and that you had to see it,” your words hang in the night air, a delicate offering of regret that seeks solace in the quiet.

Jimin’s hand intertwines with yours, and his touch becomes a comforting anchor in the obsidian night. “It’s okay. Stuff happens. I just like you so much, it made me really angry,” his words, a vulnerable confession, echoing beneath the starlit canopy. 

“I’m sorry. I really like you too. And I didn’t know he was your brother at that time, I’m sorry.” The apology lingers in the night air as you gravitate closer to Jimin. His breath, a gentle caress, plays on your skin. Proximity tightens the space between you until your noses almost touch. A symphony of rapid heartbeats reverberates in the silence. 

An electric charge courses through you as Jimin cups your cheek, his gaze penetrating into the depths of your soul, intertwining two fates under the starlit embrace.

A subdued moan escapes your lips as his touch fans the flames within, setting ablaze the desires you’ve long suppressed. It’s that magnetic pull, the sensation lingering each time Jimin’s presence envelops you, a denial unraveling at last. The tension snaps, akin to a taut elastic band reaching its limit. Eternity seems to pass as you lock eyes with him, noses grazing. Inevitably, his plush, inviting lips find yours. Your hands eagerly cup his cheeks, drawing him closer, intensifying the kiss—a convergence of longing and surrender, an electric union that transcends mere touch.

His lips, plush and tender, evoke the sensation of cotton candy—irresistible, almost ethereal. 

In this stolen moment, the kiss becomes an endless dance, a rhythmic exchange that could easily stretch into eternity. A dormant ember within you, quiet for far too many moments, now kindles to life. The realization floods your senses, a surge of awareness that travels down to where desire ignites. Your panties dampen, awakening the passion swirling between you and Jimin.

Jimin expertly rolls you over, maintaining the unbroken connection of your lips. As he gracefully assumes the position above, a tantalizing dance ensues. The subtle pressure of his hips against your crotch sends shivers through your being. You can feel his erect cock, concealed beneath denim, pressing fervently against you. In a harmonious rhythm, he grinds down, a symphony of need escaping him, as he moans into your mouth.

You gasp for breath, the air thick with lust, your eyes locking onto Jimin’s, both sets heavy-lidded and pupils dilated, mirroring the intoxication that courses through your veins. It’s a heady sensation, a collision of longing and desire that feels almost surreal but undeniably right. Your fingers find his cheeks once more, a possessive urgency guiding your movements as you draw him down towards you. As your lips meet in a fervent kiss, the hunger between you intensifies, a voracious yearning that’s been building for months. Each brush of your lips against his is a moment suspended in time, where your need is laid bare, and the surreal truth of it all leaves you breathless – a fantasy finally materializing into reality.

Jimin gently pulls away, a glistening strand of saliva lingering between your parted lips like an invisible tether, a tangible testament to the magnetic force pulling you both back. His breath hitches, a raw intensity in his eyes as he utters, “Fuck. I want you so bad.”

He exhales, a tangible wave of frustration emanating from him as he plunges back into another searing kiss. His tongue, a silent plea, prods at the barrier of your lips, and in a breathless agreement, you grant him entry. Tongues entwined, a passionate dance ensues, heightened by the rhythmic grind of your core against his. The ache of desire consumes you, a primal need that has been dormant for what feels like an eternity. It’s a shared hunger, an unspoken acknowledgment of mutual longing, as if both of you are starved for each other’s touch.

His hands travel down, tracing the contours of your stomach beneath the fabric of your shirt. A soft, involuntary giggle escapes your lips, betraying the ticklish sensation that dances across your skin. His touch ventures further, slipping beneath the shirt, and you’re met with a surge of anticipation. The warmth of his palms cups your breasts, the delicate barrier of the bra heightening the sensory encounter. A moan escapes into the heated exchange of the kiss, the responsive melody to his skilled touch, as your nipples respond, hardening within the confines of your bra.

You reluctantly part, the air charged with desire, and you confess breathlessly, “I want you so bad too, Jimin.”

Your fingers glide along the contours of his snug shirt, tracing the rhythmic dance of his abdominal muscles beneath the fabric. The aftermath of your prolonged kisses paints his lips a tantalizing shade of red. His tousled, golden locks only add to the captivating disarray of his appearance, a visual symphony that threatens to engulf your senses. Rising with a newfound determination, you assertively push him away, breaking the intoxicating proximity. “I need that shirt off,” you declare, a hunger lingering in your eyes, aching to explore the canvas beneath.

You eagerly tug at his shirt, a silent invitation that he willingly accepts, lifting his arms in a seamless motion to unveil his honey-colored, velvety skin. As your hand grazes over his pectorals, the rhythmic pulse beneath your fingertips resonates with the accelerated beat of his heart—mirroring the anticipation that courses through your own veins. Your gaze traces a tantalizing descent, capturing the sculpted landscape of his face, collarbones, and the inviting expanse of his stomach, where a subtle trail of brown hair beckons you further. The air is charged with desire as your fingers deftly find his belt, unbuckling it, each deliberate motion a step closer to unraveling his dick hiding in his pants.

A throaty moan escapes him, a vulnerable symphony of desire, as you expertly undo his belt. Returning to him, your lips meet in a kiss, the touch soft and tender, like an intimate promise whispered between you two. In the gentle exchange, he tastes like a blend of love and flowers, a heady combination that lingers in the air. Brimming with anticipation, your hands deftly navigate the delicate task of unbuttoning and pulling down his pants, a challenging feat in the confined space of your current sitting position.

Your hand boldly cups his cock, the fabric of his underwear the only barrier between your skin and the pulsating dick beneath. A soft hiss escapes his lips, a symphony of pleasure and anticipation, as you sense the subtle twitch, a physical manifestation of the intensity building between you. The desperate yearning within you intensifies, aching for him with every heartbeat, and as you explore the contours of his cock, the undeniable thickness in your grasp fuels the flames of desire, leaving you breathless with need.

Breaking away from the intoxicating exchange of kisses, you lock eyes with his nearly obsidian orbs, the depth of his gaze holding a universe of unspoken desires. 

“Can I touch you, Jimin?” you inquire, the words charged with both vulnerability and a raw, palpable need.

His teeth capture his bottom lip, a silent struggle playing out as he releases a frustrated exhale. Finally, with a resolute nod, “Fuck, yeah.” 

He raises his hips in anticipation, granting you the freedom to skillfully peel away both his pants and underwear, leaving them discarded somewhere behind you in a forgotten tangle. In this suspended moment, you revel in the sight of him, completely exposed in all his naked glory—an embodiment of your deepest, most intimate fantasies. His beauty surpasses even the vivid images painted by your most explicit dreams. With unabashed admiration, your eyes roam over his form, settling on the scars that grace his hips, perilously close to his crotch. A particularly long one commands attention, stretching from the pinnacle of his hip and tracing a courageous journey downward, almost reaching his knee. Your fingers delicately follow the path of this scar, a silent tribute to the tales etched into his skin.

As your touch navigates the landscape of his scars, you witness the subtle interplay of tension and release in his body, a testament to the vulnerability that accompanies such intimate revelations. His cock responds with a telltale twitch, betraying the electric charge that courses through him in response to your every caress. 

Among the prominent, sprawling scar that graces his hip, you notice a constellation of smaller, shorter scars, each telling its own story. With a delicate touch, your fingertips embark on a tender exploration, tracing the intricate map of his history etched into his skin. 

Meanwhile, his eyes remain hooded, a veil of pleasure shrouding them, while his head arches backward, supported by his hands resting behind him. The cadence of his breath is a slow, deliberate rhythm, accentuating the intimate atmosphere that envelops you both. His teeth find refuge in his bottom lip once more, a silent testament to the waves of sensation cascading through him at your every touch.

“My scars are ugly, don’t look at them,” he confesses, his voice carrying a weight of vulnerability, as if he bears the weight of shame. The realization hits you like a wave—perhaps no one has ever taken the time to remind him that, even adorned with scars, he is undeniably beautiful. Gazing into his eyes, you speak with a gentle resolve, “You are beautiful, and so are your scars.”

With tender determination, your fingers resume their exploration, tracing the intricate paths of his scars. The touch is a reassurance, a gentle affirmation of his worth, and as your fingertips dance along the imprints of his past, a ripple of shivers courses through him. In response, an involuntary twitch emanates from his cock between his legs.

He dismisses your words with a subtle shake of his head, skepticism clouding his expression, but you’re determined to rewrite the narrative etched into his self-perception. He needs to understand the depth of his beauty and uniqueness. Your fingers resume their tender dance, tracing teasingly along the ridges of his scars, each touch carrying the weight of your conviction. “These scars,” you affirm, “they tell your story, a story of resilience and strength. And, my god, they are beautiful, just like you.” 

The words hang in the air, a testament to your unwavering belief in the profound beauty etched into the very fabric of his being.

Witnessing the softening of his gaze, a solitary tear breaking free from the confines of his eyes, you seize the poignant moment to plunge back into a kiss with his lips—soft and plush, like a velvet haven. It’s a moment that transcends time, and in those stolen seconds, you realize you could lose yourself in the artistry of his lips for an eternity.

Heaving with the weight of shared intimacy, his breaths resonate with depth and intensity. As he withdraws, the shadows of his eyes glisten with unshed tears in the night. With a voice that trembles with sincerity, he utters, “Thank you,” a phrase that echoes with layers of gratitude and vulnerability.

Gazing into his eyes, you observe a vulnerability that renders him utterly exposed, laid bare before you. In the depth of his gaze, a profound mixture of emotions surfaces, the hues of desire and longing mingling with the rich brown of his eyes. Embracing him, you pull him into the sanctuary of a hug, your lips brushing against his ear as you murmur, “I’ll keep telling you forever, because I feel like you need to hear it.”

Gently trailing your hand down the terrain of his stomach, your fingertips navigate the uncharted territory until they encounter his neglected cock. The moment your touch cradles him, a guttural groan, steeped in the heady brew of desire, escapes him, echoing in the charged air around you. Your fingers embark on a careful exploration, appreciating the girth and thickness of his dick, veins almost popping out of the poor thing. The flushed redness of the head and a delicate sheen of precum only intensify the allure. Licking your lips in anticipation, you lower yourself. Your lips encircle the engorged head, and in response, a deep, primal moan reverberates from him, resonating with the harmonious dance between pleasure and need that binds you together.

Reclining amidst the soft embrace of grass and wildflowers, you have somehow trailed off your sleeping mats, but you don’t care. Your tongue embarks on an intricate exploration, tracing a sinuous path along his cock, each lick an artful dance that circles around him with an unspoken promise of ecstasy. You’re drooling, and your saliva runs down your cheeks, down his cock and down to his balls.

His dick fills your mouth with a perfect fullness, a tangible overflow of desire. The parts that don’t fit in your mouth are skillfully tended to by your left hand, ensuring no inch of him is left untouched. His legs, betraying the intensity of the sensations, exhibit a subtle yet enticing twitch as you move rhythmically, a symphony of pleasure in every rise and fall.

Your devoted attention centers on his frenulum, a delicate dance of your tongue that elicits the softest, most melodic moan you’ve ever been privy to. The sound, a harmonious melody that resonates like a sweet lullaby, fuels your determination to continue this enraptured dance, even as your eyes threaten to mist with water. The need for air tugs at the edge of your consciousness, yet the ethereal music of his moans compels you to keep sucking.

The air is punctuated by squelching sounds, an audible testament to the fervor with which you suck him, utilizing every ounce of your skill. His hand, a gentle guide, finds solace in the maze of your hair, fingers intertwining as you diligently navigate the rhythmic ascent and descent along his pulsating dick. Sensing the subtle tension beneath your touch, you discern the hastened cadence of his breath, a telltale sign that he might be close.

You surface from the intoxicating depths of his crotch, parting from his cock to catch a breath of much-needed air. In that fleeting moment, as your eyes lock with his, you’re ensnared by the sinful intensity of his gaze. It’s a look so profoundly wicked, so enticingly feral, that you sense the very essence of your being might either melt into a puddle or evaporate into the charged air. 

Pooling a teasing amount of saliva in your mouth, you audaciously release it onto his dick, eliciting a surprised yet lustful chuckle from him. As your mouth envelops him once more, you revel in the tangible connection, savoring the unique sensation he offers. Yet, the sensation also sparks a cascade of anticipatory thoughts, your mind drifting to what it will feel like with his cock deep inside your pussy, and you feel it clench pathetically around nothing. Oh, god, you’re so wet already, it’s like a waterslide in your panties.

In rhythmic harmony with your measured breaths through flared nostrils, you descend along the full length of his dick. The audible moans that escape him blend with the sensation of his fingers tensing in your hair, creating a symphony of pleasure. Gradually, you sense him responding, pushing up into the warmth of your mouth with a deliberate slowness, each controlled thrust an exquisite dance. You relax your jaw and let him thrust into your warm walls. It’s slow and tender, like he’s very mindful not to hurt you.

In a breathless maneuver, you inhale deeply, creating a vacuum of anticipation as you envelop him in the suction of your mouth. A subtle, resonant hum reverberates against his pulsating dick, a seductive melody that prompts a tantalizing twitch within him. His fingers assertively tug at your hair, commanding a release that you give in to. With a sensation-laden pop, you surface from his cock, leaving an electrifying echo of desire lingering in the charged air.

“It’s so fucking good. But you have to stop. I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he pants, his voice a raw fusion of vulnerability and urgent need. As he leans up, the desperation in his tone intensifies, “I want to come inside you.” 

You might as well be surrendering to the abyss, for the power this man holds over you is staggering. The softness in his eyes is laced with an intoxicating lust, and the sly smirk he graces you with sends an electric current straight to your pussy. The dampness between your thighs becomes an undeniable testament to the effect he has on you, as his mere expression ignites a storm of arousal, leaving you helplessly entrapped in the spell he effortlessly casts.

With a firm yet gentle pull, he elevates you into a seated position, an unspoken desire lingering in the air. Urgently, he tugs at your shirt, mirroring the unveiling you orchestrated for him. As the fabric succumbs to gravity, revealing your form, he takes a moment to appreciate the canvas before him. His fingers trace a tantalizing path from your collarbones, across the curve of your breasts, and down to the waistband of your pants. Eyes locked with yours, he skillfully unzips your trousers, teasingly patting your ass before lifting them and guiding the denim down your legs.

The night air caresses your bare skin, its touch not a chill, but a soothing embrace. Despite the darkness that cloaks the surroundings, the lingering warmth from the day creates an intimate ambiance, allowing the freedom of being naked outside to feel not only acceptable but almost cocooned in a sensual comfort.

“Babe,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping between your open legs, a single finger delicately tracing the contours of your pussy, “You’re soaked.” 

You bite down on your lip, a flutter of lust coursing through you, as his finger skims the exterior of your panties, causing them to uncomfortably adhere to the contours of your folds. The urgency intensifies, a palpable desire radiating from your core, a silent plea echoing in your mind—you need them off, and you need it now.

“No need to silence yourself; it’s just us beneath the open sky,” he gently reminds you. With his reassuring words, you liberate your teeth from the captivity of your lips, allowing the unabashed moans of pleasure to cascade freely from your mouth, blending with the nocturnal symphony surrounding the two of you.

His fingers dance over your clit through the fabric of your panties, coaxing a guttural groan from the depths of your stomach. The subtle tremor of your thighs betrays the exquisite intensity of the sensation, a response that echoes through the sultry night air like a secret shared only between you two.

A smug smirk graces his lips, a silent promise of the pleasures yet to unfold, as his hands maneuver deftly up and behind your back, skillfully releasing the constraints of your bra. It cascades down to your lap, unveiling your liberated tits that eagerly spring forth. His hands, warm and purposeful, eagerly grope the newly revealed treasures, gently massaging your boobs.

Diving in with hunger, he presses kisses atop them, an unhurried descent leading him further down and to the left. His plush lips encircle a pert nipple, initiating a sensory dance that sends ripples of ecstasy through you.

“Fuck,” escapes your lips in a resonant moan, a symphony of pleasure commencing as he avidly sucks at one nipple while his fingers skillfully engage with the other. The sensation is beyond exquisite, a tidal wave of arousal surging through you. A fleeting realization of your panties still sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Yet, the relentless attention he bestows upon your breasts holds you captive, rendering you powerless to do anything but surrender to the intoxicating pleasure.

And take it you do, as his tongue deftly laps at your nipple, each stroke a rhythmic dance that occasionally escalates into a teasing bite, sending electric sparks that illuminate your vision with stars. Simultaneously, his fingers tug at the other nipple, orchestrating a symphony of pleasure that resonates through your body. As his exploration continues, you feel the warmth of his saliva tracing a tantalizing path down your breasts, descending over your stomach like a sensual cascade. The molten trail reaches the brink of your panties, a frustrating barrier to the carnal desire that courses through you.

With a tantalizing pop, he releases your left nipple, ascending to your mouth for a kiss that’s both needy and all-consuming, as if he can’t satiate his hunger for you. The fervor in his lips translates into an intense connection, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. 

Descending once again, his focus shifts to the other nipple, where he wraps his lips around it, initiating a dance of sucking and biting that elicits unrestrained moans from deep within you. Simultaneously, his fingers weave an intricate symphony on the previous touched nipple, propelling you into a realm of uncharted pleasure. The crescendo builds, and you moan unabashedly, teetering on the edge of an orgasm, the anticipation of release hanging in the charged air.

He persists in his relentless assault, biting and pulling with an intensity that coils a spring deep within your stomach. As the tension reaches its zenith, the spring snaps, unleashing a torrent of arousal that surges through you, adhering to your panties in a sticky testament to the powerful release. The realization hits like a thunderbolt – you just came without the direct touch on your clit. The sheer amazement washes over you, compounded by the rhythmic pants for air, transforming the aftermath into a heady cocktail of astonishment and unbridled ecstasy.

He relinquishes his hold on your breasts, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as if savoring a delectable feast. With a hungry gaze, he looks at you, and you can almost feel the intensity of his desire – as if he’s contemplating devouring you whole. 

His tongue darts out to lick his lips, a prelude to a ravenous declaration, “I want to taste your pussy too.” The words hang in the air, charged with a primal hunger that echoes the undeniable craving between you.

Your pussy continues to pulsate, a rhythmic echo of the recent orgasm, its clenching sensation persisting even in the absence of direct touch. Biting your lip, you nod your head in silent agreement. The desire intensifies, a relentless ache for the magic of his lips and the dance of his tongue on your pussy.

His fingers trace a tantalizing path to your hips, teasingly tugging at the edge of your panties. With deliberate intent, he pulls them off, a gentle yet purposeful maneuver that leaves your arousal adhering to the fabric, forming a glistening string of liquid in its wake. 

His gaze lowers between your legs, and he licks his lips with a deliberate slowness, an anticipation building with every inch he descends towards the place you ache for his touch. But just before he immerses himself in your pussy, he looks up, locking eyes with you. In that fleeting moment, he bestows upon you the softest look, so angelic and innocent, creating a deceptive contrast to the sinful delights you know he’s about to unleash upon you. 

As the first tantalizing touch of his tongue graces your folds, an instantaneous moan escapes your lips, and a kaleidoscope of stars seems to burst behind your closed eyelids. His tongue skillfully dances across your lips, a deliberate sweep that not only dissipates the lingering echoes of the previous orgasm but also revels in the unique taste of your essence. 

His tongue, a sinful indulgence, possesses a length that seems to explore the depths of your walls with deliberate precision. The unhurried entrance sends shivers through your core, each languid movement a seductive dance that unfurls the layers of pleasure. 

He fervently licks at your folds, savoring every essence, his tongue a relentless tide that laps up the intoxicating cascade of your juices. As you lean back on your arms, the anticipation of a new orgasm steadily builds within the depths of your stomach. Suddenly, a finger makes contact with your clit, and a moan of desire escapes your lips. Panting and gasping, your naked chest rises and falls above him, caught in the rhythm of a primal dance, as he devours you with the hunger of a man starved.

His skillful touch initiates a hypnotic dance, tracing sensuous circles around your clit. 

“Fuck, Jimin, I’m—” you begin to say amidst breathy pants, and suddenly, a new sensation courses down your ass. The realization hits— it’s one of his slickened fingers, probing at the hole there. 

Gradually, he eases his finger inside, and an involuntary clenching reaction coupled with erratic breaths engulf you. Thoughts scatter, the intensity of this entirely new sensation overwhelming your senses. It’s foreign, yet undeniably not unpleasant; in fact, it’s oddly good, a revelation that surprises you. As his finger delves a bit deeper, you feel the subtle stretch, accompanied by a moan that weaves into the midnight air.

“You said I should stick it up my ass. How does it feel with my finger up yours?” he taunts, his voice laced with a provocative edge that sends a shiver down your spine. As you clench around his invading finger, a surge of arousal releases a trickle of liquid from your pussy. The sensation is overwhelming, igniting a primal heat that consumes you entirely. Fuck, why is this so hot?

With deliberate tenderness, he eases his finger into your hole, maintaining a steady rhythm that tantalizingly grazes the threshold of previous depths. The sensation is nothing short of exquisite, sending ripples of pleasure cascading through every fiber of your being. But as quickly as the euphoria engulfs you, he withdraws his finger, leaving you to groan in a poignant emptiness that echoes through the night air. 

He lifts his head, locking eyes with you, his gaze penetrating the depths of your blown-out eyes. “You liked that, huh?” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that reverberates with a potent mixture of satisfaction and desire. The intensity of his stare ignites a fire within you, each word laden with the weight of pleasure and unspoken longing.

You bite your lips, a fleeting moment of hesitation passing through your mind as you contemplate the truth. But the honesty between you is palpable, a silent understanding that binds you together in this intimate moment. “I did,” you confess, your voice carrying the weight of undeniable desire, a raw admission that lays bare the depths of your longing.

“That’s good to know,” he chuckles, the sound reverberating through the night like a whispered promise. With a hunger that borders on desperation, he kisses you again, his lips consuming yours in a full embrace that tastes of your essence. It’s a kiss that’s wet and sloppy, needy and unapologetic, yet every sensation only serves to deepen the flames between you. And as you savor the taste of his lips against yours, you’re reminded of the intoxicating allure that drew you to him in the first place, igniting a flame that burns brighter with each passing moment.

He returns to your pussy with a hunger that borders on obsession, his lips eagerly tasting every inch of you while his skilled fingers tease your clit with a maddening precision. His tongue, devilishly good, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, compelling you to arch your back and press your core deeper into his face. The sight of his glistening cheeks, adorned with your essence, ignites a primal urge within you, a visceral desire to consume and be consumed in return. With his head between your legs, he becomes a vision of untamed passion, his devotion to your pleasure evident in every caress and every lingering kiss.

With the skill of a master, he works his fingers over your clit in a mesmerizing dance, tracing circles that send sparks of ecstasy coursing through your veins. His touch is both gentle and assertive, at times pulling on your sensitive nub, eliciting a chorus of moans that echo in the heated air around you. Each movement sets your body ablaze with a searing intensity, every sensation heightening your arousal until you feel like you’re consumed by a blazing inferno of desire.

As he continues his relentless assault on your senses, you feel the coil of desire winding tighter and tighter, on the verge of unraveling at any moment. The dual sensation of his sucking at your clit while his finger expertly rubs it pushes you over the edge, and with a primal cry, the coil inside you finally snaps. 

A powerful wave of liquid cascades over his face, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you. Gasping for air, your vision momentarily blurs, spots dancing before your eyes as the intensity of the moment washes over you. You feel the liquid trickling down your folds, leaving a trail of evidence on the grass or flowers beneath you.

As Jimin continues to lick and coax you through the euphoric waves of your orgasm, you ride out the intense sensations until you gently tug on his blonde hair, a silent signal that it’s becoming too much to bear. Sensing your need, he obediently returns, his lips meeting yours in a modest kiss that speaks volumes of his reverence for you. 

“You’re so hot, you know that?” he murmurs against your lips, his words laced with genuine admiration and a hint of awe, leaving you with a lingering warmth.

For some inexplicable reason, a blush graces your cheeks, a subtle yet undeniable testament to the torrent of emotions swirling within you. It’s a curious juxtaposition, considering the uninhibited pleasures you’ve shared thus far. Yet, amidst the intoxicating haze of desire, there’s a deeper sensation stirring within you—a profound sense of being utterly and unequivocally full, not just of passion, but of an overwhelming and boundless love.

“Can I make love to you?” he asks, his voice a tender whisper that reverberates through the charged air between you. As his eyes search yours, a silent plea etched into their depths, his breath washes over your face, carrying with it the intoxicating scent of him—sweet and musky, a heady blend that envelops you in a cocoon of desire and longing.

“God, yes!” you moan fervently, your voice a breathless plea that echoes in the heated space between you. With an instinctual urgency, you open your legs wider, a silent invitation that beckons him closer, drawing him into the intimate embrace of your pussy with an irresistible pull.

He lays you down gently on a fragrant bed of bluebonnets, their sweet, flowery scent wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, infusing the night air with a delicate fragrance that speaks of love and serenity. As you pant softly, your eyes drink in the sight of Jimin poised above you, a vision of strength and vulnerability intertwined. His scars, a testament to his journey, only add to his allure, while his tender gaze holds you in a spellbinding trance. With deliberate movements, he hovers closer, his hand stroking his dick.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He asks, a note of realization creeping into his voice as he acknowledges the crucial detail he nearly overlooked. 

You shake your head, a sense of disappointment washing over you like a wave crashing against the shore. Despite the nagging concern for safety, your desire burns fiercely, eclipsing rational thought with an unyielding craving for closeness. 

“No, I don’t. I’m on the pill and I’m clean, are you?” You inquire, your voice laced with a mixture of longing and urgency, a silent plea for reassurance amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

He chuckles softly, the sound a mixture of amusement and apprehension. “Yeah, I usually always wear protection too, but I really didn’t plan on this happening tonight,” he admits, his words tinged with a hint of uncertainty. “You’re okay without it?” He asks, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt, his concern for your well-being evident in the furrow of his brow.

“I’m good, just fuck me, Jimin,” you pant, your voice trembling with a raw mixture of desire and urgency. With a fervent desperation, you spread your legs even wider, your glistening pussy shimmering in the moonlight, a beacon of temptation that beckons him closer. The sight leaves him licking his lips in unadulterated lust, his gaze fixated on you with a hunger that mirrors your own.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he strokes his dick once more, a silent promise of the pleasure to come. Aligning himself with your eager entrance, he begins to push his cock into your welcoming embrace, each inch a tantalizing reminder of the intimacy you’re about to share.

As he enters you, a surge of sensation washes over you, and you’re struck by the realization that he’s thicker than you anticipated. A fleeting moment of panic flits through your mind as you remember that he didn’t stretch you beforehand, but to your surprise, the slickness of your arousal makes the slide effortless. There’s no discomfort, only a delicious feeling of fullness that leaves you breathless with pleasure.

He reaches the deepest recesses of your being, his balls grazing your folds, and a primal moan escapes your lips as he ignites a firestorm of sensation within you. 

Every inch of him stretches you to your limits, leaving you feeling gloriously full and alive with desire. With each withdrawal, a shiver races down your spine, only to be replaced by an electrifying jolt of pleasure as he thrusts back in. 

The intensity of it all is overwhelming, sending you spiraling into a frenzy of ecstasy that surpasses even your most vivid fantasies. It’s everything you’ve ever imagined, and yet, so much more—so much better than your wildest wettest dreams.

You revel in the sensation of his dick twitching inside your pussy, a primal confirmation of his arousal that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. With each powerful thrust, the simplicity of the missionary position becomes a conduit for profound intimacy, every movement drawing you closer together in a passionate dance of desire. You’re soaking wet, to be honest, you’re dripping. His cock feels like a revelation, igniting flames of ecstasy that consume you wholly, leaving you utterly lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your passion.

His hands, initially anchored on either side of your hips, move across your trembling form. Each caress leaves a trail of tingling sensations in its wake, electrifying your senses with a fervent urgency. As his fingers glide over your curves, they pause upon the soft swell of your breasts, lingering there with an almost reverent touch. With a gentle tug on your nipple, he elicits a fervent moan of pure pleasure from your lips, each sensation unraveling you further in the throes of unabashed ecstasy.

As he continues to thrust deeply into you, his fingers teasing your sensitive nipple, you find yourself drawn to the raw intensity etched across his features. His expression, a captivating blend of desire and longing, captivates your gaze, his furrowed brow a testament to the depth of his passion. His eyes, wide and dilated with arousal, hold you in their hypnotic gaze, each glance igniting flames of longing within your core. His plush, red lips beckon to you with an irresistible allure, stirring an overwhelming urge to taste him once more, to lose yourself in him.

“Kiss,” you pant, your voice a desperate plea that hangs heavy in the air, and he chuckles softly at your fervent request. Without hesitation, he leans down to meet your lips, his kiss a fiery collision of passion and need, even as he continues to drive his dick into your heated depths with unwavering intensity. 

Each brush of his lips against yours sends shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body.

“Fuck, you’re amazing babe,” he groans, his voice laced with a mixture of awe and desire, as he drives himself into you with a fervent urgency tempered by tender affection. Each powerful thrust is a testament to his adoration, his movements a symphony of passion and intimacy that leave you breathless with longing.

“Jimin, I—” you gasp, the words caught in your throat as he delves deeper into your depths, a surge of pleasure coursing through you as he gathers your legs and presses them against his shoulders, driving himself even further into your pussy.

Your gasping, overwhelmed by the depth of sensation as he plunges into you, exploring places you never knew existed, igniting sparks of pleasure that ripple through every fiber of your being. It’s as if he’s reaching parts of you that have long remained dormant, his every movement sending shockwaves of ecstasy cascading through your body, leaving you teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion.

When he delivers a particularly powerful thrust, you surrender to the overwhelming wave of emotions coursing through you, your heart soaring as you release the words that have been simmering within, “I love you.”

With a husky grunt, he responds, his voice a low rumble filled with an undeniable tenderness, “I know, babe.”

Gazing at him through a veil of desire, your breath ragged with anticipation, you press him for clarity, your voice trembling with curiosity, “What do you mean, you know?”

A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he withdraws completely, leaving you with a sense of emptiness that mirrors the sudden absence of his presence within you. “You told me at the gala,” he explains, his voice carrying a hint of amusement and fond remembrance, casting a glow of warmth over the memory.

Your expression morphs into a puzzled question mark once more, prompting another bout of laughter from him as he teasingly teases at your entrance once more.

“When you told me you hated me, you also said you love me,” he reveals, his voice laced with a mixture of humor and desire, before driving his dick back into you with an intensity that leaves you gasping, your cries of pleasure echoing in the night, mingling with the sounds of nature around you. You’re almost afraid you might startle the horses with all your noises.

“Fuck, I did?” you gasp incredulously, your voice tinged with disbelief and arousal, feeling the powerful grip of your pussy tightening around his cock, as if it’s instinctively pulling him deeper, craving the connection with an intensity that matches your own desire.

“Yeah. It was actually really hot. Do you know how sexy you are when you’re mad?” He leans down, gently pressing your thighs against your stomach, drawing you into an intimate embrace as he lowers his lips to your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, “I love you too.”

You’re consumed by a surge of sensation, questioning whether he’s grown larger or you’ve become tighter, the intense throbbing and twitching of his dick inside you driving you to the brink of madness. Every nerve in your body is alight, ablaze with desire, leaving you gasping for breath as if on the verge of spontaneous combustion.

As he ascends, his hand resumes its gentle ministrations on your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. The intensity is overwhelming, pushing you to the brink of release once more. Every fiber of your being is electrified, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. You feel like you could come at any moment now.

Despite the exhaustion that blankets your body with the way that he fucks you, you’re enveloped in a whirlwind of love and desire that leaves you feeling utterly spent yet infinitely fulfilled.

“Ahhh, fuck!” You cry out, the sensation of him delving so deep sends shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through every nerve ending, igniting a kaleidoscope of sensations that leave you seeing stars and unraveling at the seams.

“That’s it, babe. You’re taking me so well,” he pants, his voice thick with desire and need, echoing the frantic rhythm of your own breathless gasps. “I’m almost there. Are you close?”

“Yes,” you moan, elongating the word as if savoring its taste, your voice a symphony of pleasure and desire. Every nerve in your body ignites with a fiery intensity, fueled by the intoxicating sensations Jimin evokes. His touch, his presence, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, a blissful surge that consumes your very being.

As Jimin’s pace intensifies on your clit, perfectly synchronized with the depth of his thrusts, you surrender to the torrent of sensations cascading through your body. 

Every touch, every movement, sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, a culmination of the emotions that have been simmering beneath the surface for months. With each exquisite moment, you release the pent-up tension, allowing yourself to be consumed by the raw, unbridled passion between you and Jimin— you simply let go.

“Jimin!” The cry tears from your lips like a primal invocation as you spiral into your third orgasm, a deluge of ecstasy flooding around his throbbing cock. 

You’re left panting, a disheveled portrait of desire, as your core tightens around him, pulsing with each wave of release, coating his dick in a glistening sheen of your arousal.

“Fuck!” His voice is a raw mix of frustration and longing, his body trembling as your insatiable pussy seems to draw him deeper into your depths, culminating in a primal moan of your name as he spills his essence inside you.

You’re both left breathless, your bodies suffused with a warmth that courses through every inch of your skin, igniting a tingling sensation that dances along your nerves. It’s not just the aftermath of passion; it’s a shared ecstasy that leaves you both on the brink of shivering, though not from the chill of the night air.

As you ride out the waves of your climax, he continues to thrust inside you, his warmth flooding your depths, and you revel in the raw intimacy of it all. Even as his dick gradually softens, he remains nestled within you, both of you panting for air.

Droplets of sweat trickle down from his forehead, teasing your breasts with their warm caress. Despite the exhaustion etched on his face, he still radiates a captivating allure that leaves you breathless.

You feel the warmth of his semen trickling out of your pussy, tracing a tantalizing path down to your ass, leaving you feeling both sticky and sweaty.

You gently lower your legs from his shoulders, allowing them to find solid ground beside him. Gasping for air, a wide grin spreads across your face, punctuated by playful giggles. Jimin leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss that elicits a soft moan from you. Breaking away, he grins, revealing his endearingly crooked teeth—a sight that never fails to warm your heart. Damn, you love this man.

You lose track of time with him nestled on top of you, his warmth enveloping you as he remains inside your pussy. The gentle thud of his beating heart against your chest creates a soothing rhythm, one that seems to sync perfectly with your own. 

In that moment, entwined together, it feels like your souls are dancing to the same beautiful melody.

As he withdraws from you, he gracefully shifts onto his side, beckoning you to join him on his sleeping mat. You comply eagerly, settling yourself beside him, relishing the warmth of his body against yours. With a tender gesture, he draws both blankets over your entwined forms, cocooning you both in a comforting embrace against the night’s chill.

Entwined in each other’s arms, you drift into slumber, lulled by the rhythmic cadence of his heartbeat, a comforting lullaby in the stillness of the night. With your head nestled against his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing beneath you, you find solace in the intimacy of the moment. Your fingertips trace delicate patterns on his pectorals. As you lie there, embraced by the tender embrace of nature, the symphony of the wilderness envelops you, a melodic harmony of chirping crickets and dancing fireflies. Above, the celestial canopy twinkles with a myriad of stars, casting a celestial glow upon your sanctuary, a sanctuary where time stands still and love knows no bounds.

As the first light of dawn paints patterns of gold through the foliage, coaxing you from slumber, you awaken beside Jimin, cocooned in the warmth of his presence. Stretching languidly, you feel the gentle weight of his body beside you, a comforting anchor in the hazy morning. Nestling closer to him, you bury your face into the curve of his chest, savoring the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. With a contented sigh, you greet the new day softly, your voice a whispered melody against the tranquil stillness, “Morning.”

He stirs beneath you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, a sound that resonates deep within your core. His gentle touch traces the curve of your spine, sending shivers cascading down your skin, igniting a familiar heat within you. The memory of last night dances at the edges of your consciousness, teasing and tantalizing, as his fingers linger on the curve of your ass, coaxing your body to life with every caress.

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” His voice, warm and inviting, rouses you from the haze of sleep, like the first light of dawn piercing through the darkness. You blink away the remnants of dreams, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. His laughter, a melody of morning, dances in the air, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. As he opens his eyes, you find yourself captured by the depth of his gaze, a silent exchange of morning greetings between two souls entwined in the quiet serenity of dawn.

“Amazing,” you exhale the word against his chest, the warmth of your breath mingling with the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Soft kisses pepper his skin, each one a testament to the tenderness between you, yet there’s a playful edge as your teeth graze his flesh, drawing forth a soft chuckle from him, like music to your ears, a sweet symphony of affection.

He moves with a fluid grace, rolling you over and settling above you as the weight of his presence envelops you once more. His lips meet yours in a gentle caress, carrying the essence of dawn itself, a blend of morning flowers and the earthy musk of the forest. You inhale deeply, savoring his scent as it ignites a primal longing within you, tightening your core with desire. With a soft moan, you surrender to his kiss, your hands pulling him closer, as if trying to meld your beings together in a timeless embrace, unable to quench the thirst for his lips.

You sense the subtle twitch of his cock against your crotch. The warmth of his skin against yours reignites the embers of desire, and you become acutely aware of your nakedness, a lingering sensation from your passionate sex last night, that you still feel wet from. The memory of his touch lingers, and your body responds instinctively, still tingling with the echoes of pleasure. As your mind drifts, envisioning how easy it would be for him to slip right into your walls again, a shiver courses through you, your breath catching at the mere thought, while your core instinctively clenches, yearning for his familiar touch.

“Are you okay, babe?” Concern colors Jimin’s voice as he notices the faint furrow of frustration on your brow. 

You offer him a soft smile, your fingertips tracing the contours of his cheeks with affectionate tenderness. “I’m absolutely wonderful, Jimin,” you confess, your voice laced with longing and a hint of playful desire. “I just miss you and I want you inside of me again already.”

“Oh, yeah?” His teasing tone sends a shiver down your spine as he playfully grinds his cock against your drenched pussy. You gasp at the sensation, overwhelmed by the flood of arousal coursing through your veins. How could you still be so wet, so ready for him, even after everything? 

It’s like your body has a mind of its own, craving his touch with an insatiable hunger.

His dick presses against you, throbbing with anticipation, and as he eases his fully erect cock between your slick folds, a rush of pleasure surges through you, igniting every nerve ending. Your moans escape in soft gasps, lost in the bliss of his touch, as you feel the heat of his dick melding perfectly with your own.

Each movement of his cock inside you feels like a divine symphony, a perfect rhythm that resonates through your entire being. With each deep thrust, he fills you so completely, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. Your breasts sway in tandem with his movements, a visual testament to the intense pleasure he’s giving you, each pull and thrust sending you spiraling into euphoria.

As your hands find their way to his back, you grip onto him with a fervor you didn’t know you possessed, the intensity of pleasure coursing through you like electricity. Then, as you tilt your head to the side, your eyes catch a glimpse of it— Mikrokosmos.

“Jimin-ah!” You pant urgently, your voice breaking the rhythm of your thrusts. When he catches sight of your startled expression, he halts his movements, his gaze instantly flooded with concern.

“What’s wrong, babe?” His voice carries genuine concern, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

“It’s Mikrokosmos!” You exclaim, a mixture of awe and urgency in your voice as you tear your gaze away from Jimin to focus on the majestic sight. Sensing the shift in your demeanor, Jimin withdraws from your folds and joins you, his eyes following your gaze to where your black horse grazes lazily nearby.

You rise to your feet, embarking on a quest for your scattered garments, your fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties, eliciting a frustrated groan. Resolving to not put them on, you swiftly opt for your pants, slipping into them with haste. With determination, you locate your bra and shirt, swiftly adorning yourself in a flurry of movements. Meanwhile, Jimin is engaged in a similar pursuit, his efforts mirroring yours as he hastily dons his own attire. 

Amidst the shared chaos of dressing, your laughter fills the air, a delightful symphony blending with the rustle of fabric and the gentle morning breeze.

As you don your attire with practiced efficiency, you slide your boots on, the leather molding comfortably around your feet. With deliberate steps, you approach Mikrokosmos, the ground yielding softly beneath your weight. Jimin shadows your movements, his presence a reassuring anchor amidst the morning serenity. Each stride brings you closer to the majestic creature, your heart echoing the rhythm of hoofbeats as you draw near.

“Come here, girl,” you murmur, your hand extended like an open invitation. Mikrokosmos raises her head, her gaze fixated on you, a mysterious glint dancing in her eyes, elusive yet captivating. 

With measured steps, she saunters toward you, a graceful dance of trust unfolding with each stride. As her velvety muzzle meets your outstretched hand, a surge of warmth envelops you, a sense of belonging washing over your soul. With a gentle whinny, she nuzzles against your palm, a silent affirmation of the bond between kindred spirits. “Good girl,” you whisper, your voice a tender melody amidst the tranquil embrace of nature.

You pivot slowly, no halter, no rope, no nothing, your gaze fixed ahead with quiet determination, “Let’s go home.”

Mikrokosmos follows your lead with unwavering trust, her hoofbeats falling into rhythm with your purposeful strides. Jimin’s eyes reflect admiration as he watches your natural affinity with the majestic creature. Returning to the other horses, you secure a rope around Mikrokosmos’s head, just in case she should get any ideas of leaving again, before tending to your belongings with practiced efficiency.

You saddle up Marshmallow, feeling the familiar comfort of the leather beneath your hands. Leading Mikrokosmos by the rope, you guide her onto the path, her presence beside you a reassuring anchor amidst the vast expanse of wilderness. 

The serendipitous encounter with Mikrokosmos fills you with an indescribable joy, as if destiny itself had intervened to bring you together. With each step, your heart swells with gratitude and happiness, a feeling that courses through your veins like a warm embrace.

As the trail meanders homeward, you turn to Jimin, a soft smile gracing your lips. “Thank you, Jimin,” you whisper, the words carried away on the gentle breeze, a heartfelt acknowledgment of his unwavering support. 

His warm smile washes over you, and you feel a rush of gratitude for his understanding. “No problem at all. I’m just glad to be here and help,” he murmurs, his eyes reflecting the same tenderness that fills your heart. Drawing closer, you intertwine your fingers with his, the simple act weaving a thread of intimacy between you. In that moment, riding side by side, the world fades away, leaving only the comforting embrace of each other’s presence.

His question catches you off guard, but the warmth in his voice draws you in. “Do you remember your fifth birthday?” he asks, a playful glint in his eyes, as if unraveling a cherished memory. His lips, so inviting and tender, curve into a smile, inviting you to journey back to that moment in time with him.

You chuckle softly, because you do remember, the memory flooding back like a cherished melody. You recall the innocence of that day, the laughter shared between you and Jimin as you played hide and seek, weaving tales of fantastical adventures. In that moment, surrounded by the whispers of childhood dreams, you realize the depth of your love with Jimin, sensing that perhaps there’s more to your bond than just friendship. It’s a realization that tugs at the strings of your heart, igniting a spark of hope for something more.

“Do you remember when you told me that guys couldn’t be friends with girls, that you’d get boy-lice or something?” he grins, his voice laced with nostalgia as he squeezes your hand gently. You roll your eyes playfully, the memory sparking a smile on your lips, because yes, you remember that too.

“I know I was insufferable back then,” you confess, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you wave off the memory.

“You weren’t. But you were oblivious to the fact that I had feelings for you back then, weren’t you?” He chuckles again, his laughter like a sweet melody that resonates deep within you, leaving you longing for more.

“I honestly didn’t. I just thought you were being a typical boy. But hey, I was five—how was I supposed to grasp the concept of love at that age?” You laugh lightly, a soft smile playing on your lips as you reminisce about the innocence of childhood.

He chuckles softly, his gaze holding a hint of curiosity, “It doesn’t matter now. But I was wondering…”

You find yourself lost in his hazel brown eyes, their warmth enveloping you, as you’re drawn to his captivating smile. With a soft breath, you respond, “Yes?”

With a tender gaze, he lays his heart bare before you, his words echoing with sincerity and vulnerability. “If you want to be my girlfriend. I don’t want to waste anymore time. I love you and I want us to be together,” he asks, his voice tapering off, a hint of uncertainty creeping in. Yet, you offer him solace, intertwining your fingers with his, leaning into his side, and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, affirming your affection without words.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Jimin.”

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 💜

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