#* the humor of tagging an angel oc is not lost on me:')

[mimiruku]

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 : 𝐎𝐂 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒. BOLD whatever applies | ITALICS what sometimes applies | STRIKETHROUGH what doesn't apply &&. tag people. ( REPOST ; don’t reblog! )

tagged by : @hexenjagd. , you tagged my other blog but imma do it here also. weeee. tagging : who would want to do this ? @sosordid , @azurescaled @lairlairstudio @dreamieparadise & @remauriel

𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 : desire for connection , pursuit of pleasure , emotional intelligence , obsessive , lovesick , one-night stand , seductive encounter , flirtatious conversation , erotic party , seductive attire , revealing clothing , passionate gaze , provocative makeup , sensual expressions , suggestive gestures , flirtatious smiles , lingerie, love letters , perfumes , provocative behavior , love poems , erotic art

𝐆𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐘 : indulgence in experiences , savoring moments , hospitality , generosity , hedonism , culinary expertise , wine tasting , excessive snacking , overloaded plates , excessive portions , bloated stomachs , messy eating , greasy fingers , full tables , indulgent spreads , overflowing cups , satisfied expressions , wine bottles , can't get enough , fast food wrappers

𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐘 : motivation , competitive spirit , strategic planning , observational skills , bitter , rivalry contest , envious gossip , resentment-filled argument , social media jealousy , furrowed brows , clenched jaws , side-eye looks , pursed lips , tense posture , whispering behind backs , crossed arms , gossip magazines , the grass is always greener , feeling inadequate

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃 : resourcefulness , entrepreneurial spirit , negotiation , materialistic, aggressive investment , lavish spending spree , resource hoarding , get-rich-quick scheme , auction bidding war , property acquisition , piles of money , overflowing wallets , luxury items , locked safes , penny-pinching , rare collectibles , selfishness , unwillingness to share

𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇 : calmness , stress management , nonchalance , relaxation techniques , lethargic , apathetic , inactive , lazy weekend , binge-watching marathon , neglected chores , skipped workout , long nap , lounging on the couch , missed deadline , unkempt appearance , messy hair , pajamas , blankets , slippers, procrastination station , self-care routines

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 : confidence , self-assurance , self-respect , dignity , public speaking , self-promotion , arrogant , conceited , egotistical , self-important , vain , boastful speech , puffed chest , raised chin , smug smiles , spotlight , tooting your own horn , showing off , refusing to admit mistakes , feeling entitled , personal branding , leadership development

𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇 : assertiveness , decisiveness , strength , intensity , boundary setting , courage , indignant , heated argument , road rage incident , physical altercation , angry outburst , clenched fists , glaring eyes , tense muscles , raised voices , reddened faces , aggressive gestures , stormy demeanor , intense frowns , destructive actions , broken objects , punching bag , out for blood , fists , simmering anger.

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

🐴Chapter summary: Life with Jimin is perfect— he is the man of your dreams and you feel like you’re living the perfect life. Until someone from the past shows up, scatters your world and leaves you utterly heartbroken.

🐴Chapter title: Broken Dreams

🐴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 (she’s more like an OC, but isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jiimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

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

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

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

🐴Chapter warnings: angst, unprotected sex, spanking, nipple play, fingering, oral (female), scratching at back, hair pulling, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, a lot of crying and heartbreak I am so sorry 😭 there is also a mention of pregnancy (not reader!!!) and a lot of jealousy— I’M SO SORRY 😭

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 14.4k

🐴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 💿 “Broken Dreams” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: I’m just gonna come out and say it: you’re gonna hate me again (and OC too), lol. This chapter is bittersweet and I’m really really sorry for the ending! 😭 It was very tough to write with all the angst and heartache.. But please know that the sun will shine on them again ☀️ And all the angst is almost over!!! 🥹 

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

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

“It’s so fragile Easy broken It’s so fragile, and it goes so slow” - ‘Broken Dreams’ by Rebecca Lavelle

As the months whirl by in a blur of blissful moments, you find yourself lost in the sweet rhythm of love with Jimin. Each passing day is a testament to the depth of your affection, from the shared laughter in your work endeavors to the cozy nights spent intertwined in each other's embrace. Tonight is no different, with Jimin nestled beside you, his presence a comforting reassurance of your bond.

You find yourself roused from sleep earlier than usual, a rare moment where you get to simply observe him in his slumber – typically, it’s him stirring you awake. Yet today, the tables have turned, affording you the chance to marvel at his serene form. His face appears angelic, though you’ve also witnessed the mischievous glint that occasionally dances across his features. As he rests, a tranquil air envelops him, his face a study in tranquility; closed eyes, a delicately proportioned nose with a hint of mischief in its slight bump and ample nostrils. It’s an endearing combination, rendering him undeniably charming – a concoction of cuteness, handsomeness, and raw allure that leaves you spellbound.

Your gaze lingers on his flawless lips, plush and inviting, reminiscent of those on a Bratz doll – soft, pouty, and undeniably cute. It’s a marvel how lips can exude such innocence and allure simultaneously. The urge to kiss him swells within you, a magnetic pull drawing you closer with each passing moment.

His bangs cascade delicately across his forehead, a tousled masterpiece that you contributed to last night, a testament to the passion shared between you. Even in disarray, his hair frames his face perfectly, accentuating his captivating features. Every glance at him only deepens your admiration; he's a vision of beauty that leaves you utterly spellbound.

As he breathes, delicate moans escape his lips like whispers of contentment, each one painting a serene smile across your lips. Gently, you reach out and brush aside a stray strand of hair, revealing more of his peaceful face. In slumber, he appears almost otherworldly, his features softened by the tranquility of rest. Cupping his cheek, you feel the weight of his sigh resonate within you, a symphony that sets your heart aflutter with adoration.

A gentle stir ripples through his sleeping form, and you find yourself pondering whether he’ll awaken soon. With a day brimming ahead, perhaps it’s time to rouse him from his slumber?

You tenderly cradle his cheek once more, and in a soft, breathless murmur, your name escapes his lips as he nuzzles deeper into the warmth of your hand.

His eyes remain closed, yet he stirs with a newfound awareness, his voice filled with the warmth of morning sunlight. “It’s always a treasure waking up next to you,” he murmurs, his words like gentle caresses against the dawn.

Your smile blooms like a secret garden, unseen but felt in the air, as his words weave a tapestry of affection around you. Each syllable resonates deep within, echoing the sentiments you hold close. The days without him stretch like barren deserts, devoid of color and life, longing for the oasis of his presence.

“Kiss me,” his voice, a gentle whisper, carries a subtle plea as he utters those two simple words, a request laced with anticipation and tenderness. Though his eyes remain veiled behind the curtain of sleep, the soft curve of his lips tells a story of affection, inviting you into a moment of shared intimacy.

With a soft chuckle dancing on your lips, you lean in to meet his lips, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours in a delicate exchange. Each kiss is a symphony of tenderness and desire, a silent promise of unwavering devotion. Straddling his hips, you lose yourself in the sweetness of his lips, savoring every moment of the intoxicating lust between you.

His touch is a gentle caress, his palms radiating warmth as they cradle your cheeks. It’s as if his hands are a sanctuary, offering solace and reassurance in their tender embrace.

You draw back, gazing at his flushed face, captivated by the softness of his lips, irresistible in their plump allure. Unable to resist, you lean in once more, your lips meeting his in a fervent dance. Beneath you, his laughter ripples like a melody, adding a playful rhythm to your intimate symphony.

Finally, he unveils his eyes, locking onto your mesmerizing gaze. In that moment, you are a breathtaking masterpiece, his heart’s sole desire reflected in your every feature. You are his everything, his world encapsulated in your presence.

“Good morning,” he rasps, his voice a delicious blend of morning huskiness and raw desire, sending a shiver down your spine. With a tender touch, he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear, his fingers lingering as if savoring the sensation of your skin.

“Good morning, babe,” you chirp, your voice filled with morning cheer and affection, eliciting a chuckle from him that rumbles beneath you, unveiling those endearing crooked teeth of his, adding to his irresistible charm.

You press your hips against his, feeling the unmistakable hardness of his dick, and a needy moan escapes your lips. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, a testament to your insatiable desire for him, leaving you yearning for more of his intoxicating presence.

His hands eagerly grasp your hips, his gaze locking with yours in a fiery intensity and so much love. The depth of emotion swirling in those captivating brown eyes renders you breathless, and it should be illegal.

“Babe,” his voice, teasing and laced with desire, sends shivers down your spine as you continue to grind against him, a mischievous smirk dancing across your lips. 

“Hm?” You respond with a low, seductive hum, your teeth sinking gently into your plump lower lip, your eyes smoldering with desire as you lock gazes with him. Your expression, a tantalizing blend of need and longing, silently conveys your hunger for him.

“Weren’t yesterday enough?” In his chuckle, there’s a playful tease, yet his hands, now firmly gripping your hips and gently sliding to caress your ass, speak volumes of his unspoken desire.

“No. I can never get enough of you Jimin,” you declare with a breathy whisper, your voice laden with longing and desire, as you lean in to capture his lips once more. With every kiss, the hunger between you intensifies, driving you to press your clothed core against his now fully hard cock, seeking the electrifying friction that ignites fireworks between your bodies.

He releases a primal moan, his desire echoing through the room as he draws you closer, his arms enveloping you in a fiery embrace that ignites every nerve ending in your body.

“I see. I can’t get enough of you either,” he murmurs, lifting you gently, his gaze fixated on you with an intensity that makes your heart race. You’re a fucking goddess, hair tousled in a captivating disarray, cheeks flushed with desire, and eyes ablaze with a hunger that mirrors his own.

He delivers a firm slap to your ass, eliciting a gratifying moan from you. “Take your clothes off for me,” he commands, his voice laced with a potent mix of desire and authority.

You gaze down at your form, clad in the silky, provocative pajamas consisting of a camisole and shorts. With a deliberate motion, you seize the edge of the camisole and peel it off your body, allowing your breasts to spill out in a tantalizing display that elicits a deep groan from Jimin. His hands eagerly encircle your breasts, reveling in their softness and warmth.

“Fuck, I love your breasts. So beautiful like the rest of you,” his words send shivers down your spine as he admires your breasts with an intensity that ignites desire within you. You can feel his dick against you as you grind yourself further into his cock from outside the thin duvet.

His gentle tugs on your erect nipples send electric currents of desire surging through your veins, igniting a primal heat within you. The rush of lust floods your senses, pooling between your thighs and making you ache with need. You moan again, as you keep grinding yourself down on him.

“Now take your shorts and panties off.” His command is firm yet enticing, echoing in the air with a promise of untamed desire. You comply eagerly, shedding your shorts and panties with a sense of urgency, revealing yourself to him in all your naked splendor. As you hover above him, vulnerable yet empowered, the raw intensity between you crackles with anticipation, igniting a primal hunger that begs to be sated.

You sway your body tantalizingly above him, a seductive dance in the dim morning light. His laughter rumbles beneath you like a low, smoldering fire, igniting the already charged atmosphere. With a playful yet possessive touch, he spanks your ass gently, sending a thrill coursing through your veins.

“Now it’s your turn,” you murmur in a husky tone, a symphony of desire dripping from your lips as you seize the edge of the duvet, unveiling his chiseled form beneath. He’s just sleeping in his boxers and god, his physique, handsome and strong, so sculpted with his dedication to all the hard work around the ranch. 

You’re practically salivating as your fingers dance over his skin like eager flames, tracing the lines of his physique with a hunger that betrays your longing. From the inviting curve of his collarbones to the sculpted landscape of his abdomen, your touch ignites a trail of sensations that leave you breathless. Finally, your fingertips linger over the tantalizing bulge straining in his boxers.

With a teasing smile playing on your lips, you press yourself against him once more, the wetness from your pussy seeping through the fabric of his boxers, igniting a symphony of shared moans between you. 

You shift into a seated position, your eyes glinting mischievously as you playfully tug at the waistband of his boxers, “These are in the way.”

You gracefully slide to his side, giving him room to remove his boxers. As he swiftly tosses them aside, he playfully pins you down onto the mattress, eliciting a joyful giggle from you. In that moment, amidst laughter and desire, your heart brims with a potent mix of love and lust.

He descends to kiss you with a fervor that ignites every fiber of your being, his lips meeting yours in a tantalizing dance of desire. As the intensity of his kiss deepens, you feel his cock pressing against your lower stomach.

“Babe, you’re so pretty,” he breathes out, his voice laden with desire as he reluctantly withdraws from your lips. With a deliberate slowness, he embarks on a journey down your body, pausing at your neck where he showers you with a cascade of tender kisses, each one igniting a new wave of sensation within you.

You giggle and squirm in his embrace, his fingertips dancing along your skin, sending delightful shivers down your spine as his touch tickles you relentlessly.

“Jimin, stop teasing me,” you giggle, though the playful plea in your voice betrays just how much you relish these moments of playful torment.

He trails down your neck, leaving a tantalizing path of kisses and nibbles, his warmth spreading like wildfire. Lower, his touch becomes more urgent, igniting every nerve as he caresses your breasts, his lips a tender contrast against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he takes a pert nipple into his mouth, sucking gently yet with an intensity that leaves you gasping for more.

Your breath hitches at his touch, a symphony of pleasure escaping your lips as your body instinctively rises to meet his, every nerve alive with anticipation. Fingers dig into his sturdy back, craving the closeness, anchoring yourself to the intensity of the moment as he sends waves of ecstasy coursing through your veins.

His lips and tongue dance with fervor on your sensitive nipple, coaxing out gasps and moans that echo through the room, your body writhing in ecstatic response beneath his touch. Each flick of his tongue sends shivers of pleasure coursing through you, your senses ablaze with the overwhelming sensation of his intimate caress.

You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each tantalizing brush of his dick against your slickened folds, igniting an insatiable hunger for him deep within your core. Your pussy throbs with an urgent need, aching to be filled by his cock as you yearn for the exquisite union of your bodies, desperate for the intoxicating bliss only he can provide.

With his deft touch, he lavishes equal care and devotion on your neglected nipple, ensuring that both peaks are stimulated. Each tender caress sends electrifying sensations coursing through your body, heightening your arousal to dizzying heights as you surrender to the intoxicating pleasure of his ministrations.

“Jimin—,” you moan out his name, your voice a symphony of pleasure. Every flick of his tongue, every gentle nip of his teeth, sends waves of ecstasy coursing through your veins. God, you love his mouth so fucking much.

He releases your nipple from his mouth, transferring his attention to its twin with a hunger that sets your senses ablaze. His lips and tongue work in tandem, igniting fireworks of pleasure that dance across your skin. Each delicate nibble sends a surge of arousal pulsing through you, your body responding eagerly to his every touch, every caress.

You writhe beneath him, your back arching instinctively as desire courses through every fiber of your being. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving faint imprints of your longing etched upon him. The hunger within you grows insatiable, a primal need driving you to crave more of him, more of his touch, his passion, his everything.

Understanding your unspoken desires, he trails kisses down your abdomen, his lips igniting a trail of fire along your skin. Arriving at your pussy, he pauses, taking in the sight of you with a reverence that sends shivers down your spine. Then, with a flick of his tongue, he indulges in the exquisite taste of your arousal, sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body.

You feel so sensitive down there, but fuck, his tongue is nice. Every nerve ending tingles with sensitivity and when he moves further into your pussy, his face fully buried between your thighs, he explores every inch of your cunt, teasing, sucking and slowly lapping up your juices.

He’s loud— god, the noises he’s making as he eats you out are sending shivers down your spine. The noises are obscene, and you can’t help but want more.

As he devotes himself to your pleasure, the world around you blurs into a haze of ecstasy. The intensity of his ministrations on your clitoris sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being, rendering you powerless against the overwhelming waves of sensation. With each exquisite movement of his tongue, your senses heighten, your body thrumming with an electric current of desire. You grasp onto his hair, unable to contain the primal urge to draw him closer, to merge further into the abyss of passion he’s guiding you into.

“Fuck, Jimin. I’m gonna come already!” Your words spill out in a desperate plea, the raw intensity of your impending climax building like a tidal wave ready to crash over you. Every nerve ending ignites with a fiery ecstasy as your body quivers in anticipation. With a primal cry, your orgasm surges forth, a torrent of pleasure engulfing you in its embrace. Jimin’s skilled tongue works tirelessly to capture every essence of your release, his devotion evident in every fervent lick and tender kiss, amplifying the euphoria of the moment.

You gasp for precious air, your chest heaving with the aftershocks of ecstasy, as your senses reel in the aftermath. For a fleeting moment, your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind, lost amidst the haze of pleasure that envelopes your being.

As Jimin withdraws from your pulsating core, a single digit replaces his tongue, teasingly probing your slick folds. With effortless ease, it slides into your depths, igniting a symphony of sensations that echo through your body, eliciting a soft, involuntary moan from your parted lips.

Jimin’s soft chuckle fills the room, a symphony of delight as you clutch the sheets, your expression contorted in euphoric pleasure. Every furrow of your brow, every twist of your lips only adds to your beauty, a captivating portrait of ecstasy that leaves him utterly mesmerized.

He delves deeper, skillfully working his finger within you, each movement calculated to send ripples of pleasure through your core. As he adds another finger, your breath catches in your throat, a euphoric mixture of surprise and anticipation flooding your senses. With a soft gasp, you part your thighs more, offering yourself fully to his expert touch.

Still riding the waves of your first orgasm, every touch from Jimin feels like an extension of that euphoria, amplifying the sensations coursing through your body. 

As Jimin adds a third finger, a delicious stretch accompanies each movement, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. With each thrust, he delves deeper, igniting a symphony of moans and gasps that fill the room.

Jimin skillfully explores the depths of your pleasure, his fingers questing for that elusive sweet spot, and you’re transported to another realm of sensation. When he finally strikes gold, a kaleidoscope of stars bursts behind your closed eyelids. “Jimin!” you cry out, surrendering to the rhythmic dance of his fingers as you eagerly match their movements, every stroke pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

His voice, dark with desire, sends shivers down your spine, matching the intensity in his eyes. “Are you going to come again, baby?” he murmurs, his words dripping with anticipation, his gaze locked onto yours, igniting a primal fire within you.

You bite your lip, a silent affirmation as your head nods in agreement, unable to form words amidst the throes of pleasure that consume you.

With his other hand, he returns to your clit, expertly rubbing it in tandem with the rhythmic thrusts of his fingers. The dual stimulation sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, rendering you utterly powerless to its intoxicating effects. It’s as if every nerve ending is ablaze, your mind and body consumed by the overwhelming sensations, unraveling at the seams and short-circuiting under his masterful touch.

“Come on my fingers, babe,” he urges, his eyes ablaze with primal desire, and you surrender completely. As the tension inside you reaches its breaking point, you convulse beneath his touch, releasing another wave of liquid ecstasy onto his fingers, your body trembling with the intensity of your release.

You pant desperately, consumed by the heat of the moment, yet hungering for even greater heights of pleasure. Your body thrums with an insatiable desire, craving more.

“Fuck. You alway look so beautiful when you come,” his words ignite a fire within you, sending waves of validation and arousal crashing over your senses. As your body responds eagerly to his touch, you can’t help but yearn for more, your inner walls clenching around his fingers in a silent plea for something more substantial, and oh god you wish it was his cock instead.

He keeps thrusting his fingers in and out of you as he lets you ride out your orgasm. Just when it feels like you’re teetering on the edge of sensory overload, he withdraws his fingers, allowing you to catch your breath. With a tender touch, he descends to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, his own desire evident in the intensity of his embrace.

Your breathless plea hangs in the air, laden with desire and longing, as you lock eyes with him, your fervent need laid bare. “Jimin,” you implore, your voice a whisper laced with urgency, “please, I need you inside me. I want you to fuck me. I want your cock so bad.”

His chuckle dances in the charged air, a mix of amusement and arousal, as he watches your desperate expression. With a tender touch, he guides his dick to your pussy, aligning it with your entrance.

“My baby is so needy,” his laughter, a symphony of desire, echoes in the room as he teases you with the tip of his cock, each gentle touch igniting a fervent ache within you. Your moan, a melody of longing, fills the space, a plea for him to quench the fire he’s stoked.

“Don’t tease,” your plea, laden with urgency and desire, hangs in the air, a desperate cry for him to fill the void he’s created. With a soft chuckle dancing on his lips, he obliges, parting your trembling thighs further as he eases himself into your dripping pussy. The sensation, an intoxicating blend of pleasure and bliss, envelops you like a warm embrace from the heavens.

Gasping for breath, you surrender to the overwhelming ecstasy coursing through you. “Ah, Jimin, fuck! Your dick feels incredible,” you pant, fingers curling around your legs as you draw them closer, a desperate attempt to deepen the electrifying feeling between your bodies.

His nose scrunches with intense pleasure as he thrusts into the depths of your walls, his hands bracing on either side of your body. A sharp intake of breath escapes his lips as he buries himself completely within you. Your inner muscles clench around him, eliciting a soft hiss of satisfaction from his lips.

His chuckle is breathless, a telltale sign of his struggle to maintain composure amidst the overwhelming sensation. “Who’s teasing now?” He manages, his voice laced with desire, a playful retort to your earlier plea.

He delves deeper into you, every inch of him enveloped by your warmth, the closeness of your bodies igniting an intense intimacy that sends shivers down your spine. This position, so raw and intimate, resonates deeply within you, a sensation you cherish with every fiber of your being.

With each withdrawal and thrust, he sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, eliciting a passionate cry of his name to escape your lips. 

Your senses are ablaze with the overwhelming sensation of him, each powerful thrust sending ripples of ecstasy coursing through your body. With a fervent grip on the sheets, you surrender to the rhythm of his movements, the way that he fills and stretches you out, every thrust a symphony of pleasure that resonates deep within your core.

His hands firmly anchored on either side of your body, the intensity of each thrust ignites a kaleidoscope of sensations, sending you spiraling into the cosmos. With your legs entwined around his hips, you invite him to delve deeper, to explore every inch of your being as he plunges into you with an insatiable hunger. As he descends to capture your lips in a fiery kiss, you’re consumed by the raw passion coursing between you, lost in the euphoria of your love.

Fuck, you love this. The sensation of him filling you up, the fusion of love and desire coursing through every fiber of your being, it’s intoxicating. With each movement, each thrust, you’re consumed by a rapturous ecstasy, savoring every moment of him being deep inside you. As your lips meet his in a fervent kiss, you pour all your passion into it, matching his tenderness with an equal fervor, lost in the symphony of pleasure that only he can orchestrate.

You abandon the sheets and grasp onto his back, your nails grazing his skin with each powerful thrust, lost in a whirlwind of sensation. “Fuck. Jimin,” you gasp, the name slipping from your lips like a fervent prayer amidst pleasure surging between you.

He chuckles softly, his warm breath caressing your skin as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, teasingly nibbling at the sensitive flesh. Each gentle bite sends a shiver of delight coursing through your body, igniting every nerve ending with delicious anticipation.

Breathlessly, he murmurs against your neck, his voice laced with desire, “You’re so tight, so pretty.” He pulls out only to push himself back in again, seeking out that elusive sweet spot that sends waves of pleasure cascading through your body.

Every inch of him inside you feels like a perfect fit, igniting an exquisite symphony of sensations that leaves you gasping for air. As you feel him twitch within you, a surge of pleasure courses through your veins, prompting an instinctive clenching of your walls around him, drawing him deeper into your embrace.

The room is filled with the rhythmic symphony of your bodies colliding, the wet, intoxicating sound of skin meeting skin in a passionate dance. This must be one of your favorite sounds.

As he molds his body against yours, his weight pressing deliciously into you, almost laying flat against your stomach, you’re enveloped in his warmth and passion. His lips dance across your neck, alternating between tender kisses and playful nips, igniting a fire within you. With each stroke of your nails down his back, he responds with a symphony of pleasure, his breathy hisses a testament to the fire between you.

You feel him deep inside your pussy, and you sense the impending rush of another climax, building with an intensity that threatens to consume you entirely. This time, it surges through you with a force that defies containment, coursing through your veins like a wild river breaking free from its banks.

“Jimin, I’m gonna come again,” you pant as he drives into you with unrelenting force. With a wicked smirk, he rises, seizing your right leg and pulling it flush against his shoulder. As he presses down, stretching your body to its limits, each thrust plunges deeper, igniting sensations that border on divine.

His fingers find your throbbing clit once more, sending electric shocks of pleasure coursing through your body. You’re so sensitive, teetering on the brink, knowing that it only takes a whisper to send you cascading over the edge and come again.

His touch on your pulsating clit is electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through every fiber of your being. With each circular motion and gentle tug, you’re propelled into a whirlwind of ecstasy. Your senses overload as your vision blurs into a kaleidoscope of white, gasping for air as waves of euphoria crash over you. Your body convulses in rhythmic spasms, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. It’s a symphony of sensation, leaving you utterly consumed by the intensity of pleasure, lost in a euphoric trance as your body dances to its own primal rhythm.

“Fucking hell, babe,” Jimin groans, his voice strained with the intensity of his impending release. You feel him still inside you, his body tensing with each pulsating wave of pleasure. Then, with an adorable scrunch of his nose, he reaches his climax. His grip on your leg tightens as he thrusts into you, his warm seed spilling within you. In that moment, you’re both lost in a haze of ecstasy, drenched in sweat, and gasping for air as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through your bodies.

He pulls out of you and collapses beside you on the bed, his chest heaving with each labored breath, the aftermath of passion evident in his flushed cheeks and glistening skin. With a soft chuckle, his hand finds its way to his stomach, just resting there.

“What’s so funny?” You turn your head toward him, your lips curving into a smile as you catch the playful glint in his eyes.

“You squirted, and we made such a mess,” he laughs, pulling himself closer to you again, his warmth enveloping you. “It was... hot,” he adds with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, his playful tone laced with affection and desire.

As you kiss him, you can’t ignore the sticky sensation between your legs, and it starts to feel slightly uncomfortable.

“I’ll clean you up babe, don’t worry,” he reassures, noticing the faint furrow on your brow, his voice tender and comforting.

He gets up from the bed, slips into his boxers and steps out of the bedroom. After a few moments, he returns, carrying a warm washcloth, a blush on his face and his eyes flickering with a mix of bashfulness and affection as he meets your gaze.

“Why’d it take you so long?” You groan, parting your legs to offer him easier access for cleaning.

He chuckles, his face flushing even more, “I met your sister, she said to keep it down next time.”

You sit up, a stern look etched on your face as you scoff, “Who is she to talk? She and your brother keep me up all night with their loud noises!”

He chuckles softly, drawing nearer to you on the bed, his fingertips dancing along the curves of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.

“Then we should just be louder, no?” He suggests playfully, a mischievous glint in his eyes, though his cheeks remain flushed. His fingers hover tantalizingly close to your folds, teasing but not touching. Instead, he delicately applies the warm washcloth to your slick pussy, the comforting heat soothing against your sensitive skin. With careful motions, he begins to cleanse away the remnants of your shared passion, his touch gentle yet purposeful.

“Jimin, it’s not a competition. But we should totally do that next time,”  you chuckle, enjoying the tender care he showers upon you in the aftermath. The gentle touch of the washcloth against your skin is soothing, and you bask in the intimacy of the moment. Despite the tasks waiting for your attention, Jimin’s unhurried ministrations make you want to linger a little longer in this tranquility.

As he completes his task, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns on your thighs, you rise from the bed, feeling a sense of contentment envelop you. Scanning the room for your belongings, you locate a pair of panties and slip them on, then reach for Jimin’s abandoned button-down shirt, relishing in the comforting warmth it offers as you slide it over your shoulders.

When you pivot to face him, adorned solely in the delicate lace of your panties and his oversized shirt, a low, guttural groan escapes Jimin’s lips, his gaze trailing over your silhouette. With a languid movement, he reclines on the bed, his expression a mix of desire and admiration.

In a playful tone, you announce, “I’ll just paint a bit and then we can head down and get breakfast. You lay back and enjoy the view.” With a sly grin, you tug the curtains open just enough, anticipating how the morning sunlight will caress your skin as you immerse yourself in your artistic pursuit.

Allowing the brush to dance freely on the canvas, you let your mind flow with the strokes, creating another abstract masterpiece adorned with vibrant red hues. Glancing over your shoulder, you catch sight of Jimin reclining, wholly entranced by your artistic process, his gaze brimming with an unmistakable blend of affection and admiration.

Pausing mid-brushstroke, you shoot Jimin a playful smirk, your eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“Like what you see?” You tease, the hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Jimin’s groan reverberates in the room, his voice laced with desire. “Yes. You look so fucking hot in my shirt and with the bottom of your ass peeking out, and your tits out like that… are you sure we have to work today?”

You can’t help but burst into laughter, the sound bubbling with warmth and affection. Oh, how tempting it is to lose yourself in the allure of Jimin. Yet, duty calls, and as much as you crave his touch, completing this painting beckons with its own urgency and the rest of your work later.

With a playful sway of your hips, you tease Jimin further, the brush in your hand an extension of your artistic vision. Each stroke brings you closer to completion, the canvas soon to be adorned with your creativity and passion.

“It’s not fair,” he chuckles, rolling out of bed to retrieve his pants, “I’d like my shirt back, though I must admit, it looks ten times better on you.” His playful banter carries a hint of sincerity, his eyes lingering on your form as if the shirt were an afterthought compared to the allure it lends you.

You chuckle mischievously, relishing in the moment as you turn around and let the garment cascade off your body in a slow, tantalizing motion. Jimin’s eyes widen in awe, captivated by your confident display. With a sly grin, you saunter over to your dresser, effortlessly commanding attention. Retrieving a bra and shirt, you dress yourself with effortless grace, leaving Jimin momentarily spellbound. As he picks up his shirt from the floor and dons it, the air crackles with the lingering electricity of your playful teasing.

“Let’s get breakfast and then head to work,” you suggest, crossing the room to Jimin, where you plant a tender kiss on his plush lips, lingering for just a moment to savor the touch of him.

Side by side, you descend the stairs, the anticipation of breakfast fueling your steps. Rushing through the meal, you devour your food with a sense of urgency, knowing that the day's responsibilities are already waiting impatiently for your attention.

With the morning sun casting a golden glow, you embark on your daily routine, starting with the tender care of the garden. Jimin joins you, his hands deftly plucking out weeds, his laughter mingling with the chirping of birds. Together, you gather the bounty of carrots, spinach, cabbage, and peas, the vibrant colors a testament to nature’s generosity. As the day progresses, you transition to the stables, the scent of hay and earth enveloping you. With practiced hands, you feed the cattle and horses, their eager whinnies and low rumbles a symphony of farm life. Loading up the pickup truck, you set off to tend to the animals in the paddocks, the rhythmic rumble of the engine accompanying your journey across the sprawling landscape.

“How does this thing work again?” You inquire, gripping the drill with determination. Both hands are occupied, grappling with the weight of the tool and the precision needed to secure the bolts just right. You’re on a mission to ensure every detail aligns perfectly, a blend of determination and mechanical finesse guiding your every move.

Jimin’s chuckle dances in the air beside you, his hand enveloping yours on the drill. “Let me show you,” he says, guiding your fingers to the trigger, igniting the powerful hum of the machine. “And if you don’t screw it in at a level, you can push this to make it reverse,” he continues, demonstrating the reverse function. His touch, warm and reassuring, sends a gentle thrill down your spine, mingling with the anticipation of mastering the task at hand.

He shifts his focus back to holding the wooden plank steady for you, ensuring a smooth process. With determined precision, you position the bolt and wield the drill, its power humming to life as you secure the bolt in place. Success! The satisfying click of the bolt settling in sends a surge of accomplishment through you both.

Grinning, you glance at him, exhilarated by the teamwork, “This is actually fun.” With newfound enthusiasm, you reach for another screw, eager to continue the satisfying rhythm of progress.

Jimin’s eyes light up with genuine delight, his smile spreading warmth, “My babe with power tools. Absolutely love it.” 

Together, you and Jimin finally tackle the long-awaited project of assembling the shed you'd spent months gathering wood for. Despite his initial plans to complete it sooner, life seemed to intervene, leaving the project on hold. But now, as you both hammer and drill, laughter fills the air, mingling with the satisfaction of progress. Working side by side, you relish the closeness and love, finding joy in shared achievements and the simple pleasure of each other’s company.

For months now, life has been a whirlwind of joy and contentment, leaving you with a constant flutter of butterflies in your stomach and a perpetual grin adorning your face. Even your sister, with her keen eye, has teased you about looking like a lovesick fool. But can you blame her? You’ve finally found everything you’ve ever yearned for: the warmth of family, a place to call home, and the embrace of the one you love more than words can express.

Startled by Yoongi’s sudden presence behind you, his voice cutting through your thoughts like a gentle breeze, you turn to find him standing there, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Can you lend me a hand down in the pen?” he asks, his tone carrying a hint of urgency that you can’t ignore.

When you fully face Yoongi, you notice the subtle glow on his face, a telltale sign that things with Hoseok must be going swimmingly. It warms your heart to see him so content, and in turn, fills you with joy. “Sure thing, just give me a moment,” you reply with a smile, ready to assist him with whatever task he needs help with in the pen.

Jimin’s affirmative nod accompanies a gentle smile, his eyes reflecting understanding and support. “I can handle the rest, love. Go lend Yoon a hand,” he says, his tone brimming with reassurance and affection.

You pass the drill to Jimin with a quick exchange, his fingers brushing yours in a fleeting touch that sends a jolt of warmth through you. Following Yoongi’s urgent call, you head down to the pen, where the sight of a spirited horse galloping about greets you, its untamed energy palpable in the air.

“What do you need help with?” You inquire, arching an eyebrow in curiosity, ready to assist Yoongi with whatever challenge he's facing in the pen.

Yoongi’s voice carries a hint of desperation as he explains the mare's skittish behavior. You notice the weariness etched on his face, his energy drained from his futile attempts to coax the horse. “Could you give it a shot? See if she responds to you?” he pleads, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion, revealing just how long he's been grappling with the elusive mare.

“Yeah I’ll give it a shot,” with a confident smile, you accept the challenge. Carefully climbing over the fence, you land softly on the sand, your boots sinking slightly into the ground. As you approach the mare, her wild movements seem to echo the chaos in her mind. Standing in the center of the pen, you observe her graceful gallop, realizing she's in a world all her own. Patience becomes your ally as you wait, understanding that time is your greatest asset in this endeavor.

Lost in the mesmerizing rhythm of the mare’s movements, time becomes elusive, and a sense of dizziness begins to swirl within you. As you watch her graceful strides, a heavy sigh escapes your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the passage of moments slipping away unnoticed.

As the mare continues her captivating dance, your attention wanders to Yoongi, realizing you’ve been standing idle for what feels like an eternity. “How are the other horses doing?” You inquire, your voice carrying a hint of fatigue from the prolonged stillness.

A soft chuckle escapes Yoongi’s lips before he responds, “They’re doing fine. We actually got another one picked up yesterday.”

You flash a warm smile, your voice laced with genuine regret. “That’s great news. Sorry I couldn’t be there.” 

Your heart swells with pride at the thriving success of your shared venture. “But I’m thrilled about how smoothly things are going. We’ve moved so many wild horses into new roles as stock horses.”

A sudden force jolts against your back, sending you stumbling forward, your heart racing as you struggle to regain your balance.

A radiant smile illuminates Yoongi’s face, brimming with pride and joy. “You did it!” he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine excitement and admiration.

As you pivot, your eyes meet the gentle gaze of the wild mare, standing before you with humility in her stance, her head lowered in submission. A soft whine escapes her lips, a sign of acknowledgment. Tenderly, you extend your hand, brushing it gently against her head. “Good girl,” you murmur, feeling a surge of connection and triumph in the air.

“You’re amazing. Thank you so much. I’ve been struggling with her for hours, making no progress,” he expresses, weariness evident in his tone as he perches atop the fence. “I’ll take her to the stables. She’s been out for too long; she deserves some rest. And you, you should rest too. Thank you once again.” With a grateful smile, he leaps down into the pen, effortlessly guiding the mare back to the stables without the aid of halter or rope.

“No problem,” you reply, stepping out of the pen and heading towards the main house. The day is winding down, and you’re hopeful that Jimin has prepared dinner that you can enjoy together.

As you open the door, the tantalizing aroma of home-cooked goodness envelops you, instantly awakening your senses. The savory scent beckons you forward, drawing you into the warm embrace of familiarity and comfort. With eager anticipation, you make your way into the living room, where Jimin lounges on the couch, adding to the cozy atmosphere with his relaxed presence.

“Did you finish work?” He inquires, tearing his gaze away from the mindless chatter on the TV, his eyes lighting up as they meet yours.

“Yeah, and I’m starving. Did you whip something up?” you inquire eagerly, closing the distance between you and him with each step.

“Yeah, it’s in the oven,” he responds, his fingers intertwining with yours as soon as you’re within his reach, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“Didn’t you already eat?” you ask, a hint of disbelief creeping into your voice, your eyebrows arching slightly as you await his response.

“No, I was waiting for you,” he says, his smile warm and genuine, eyes sparkling with affection as he gazes at you.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t have to, but we can eat together now,” you say, your voice carrying a mixture of sadness and affection, “come.”

You coax him up from the couch, intertwining your fingers as you head into the kitchen to uncover the delicious meal he’s prepared. The flavors dance on your taste buds, a testament to his culinary skill. Amidst bites and laughter, you savor the intimacy, sneaking playful touches and caresses, entwining your legs beneath the table, deepening the love between you.

“Long day?” he asks, his voice soft with concern as his foot finds yours under the table, the gentle pressure of his touch sending a tingling sensation up your leg, a subtle reassurance in his gesture.

“Yeah. I’m so sore and tired. You?” you ask, sinking deeper into your seat, the weariness evident in your voice as you release a heavy sigh, your body yearning for the comfort of relaxation.

“Me too,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of exhaustion as he stretches his body, a silent testament to the day’s wear and tear. “What do you say… if you clean up in the kitchen, I’ll make a bath for us in the tub?” His offer, infused with a touch of intimacy and care, promises a soothing respite from the day’s toils. 

Your eyes sparkle with anticipation at the mention of the tub. The thought of sinking into its welcoming depths has been a quiet longing in your mind for so long, and now, the prospect of finally indulging in its comforting embrace fills you with eager anticipation. The promise of soaking away the day's stresses in warm, soothing water feels like a luxurious treat, beckoning you towards a moment of serene relaxation.

“Deal,” you respond with a hint of eagerness, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. His laughter fills the room, accompanied by the soft warmth of his affectionate gaze, reminding you once again of the deep bond you share.

With a swift nod, you rise from the table, eager to fulfill your end of the bargain. The prospect of sinking into a warm bath lures you into action, and you quickly set to work clearing the table and storing the leftovers. Meanwhile, you delegate the task of drawing the bath to Jimin, trusting in his ability to create the perfect oasis of relaxation.

“Hey babe! Do you want some wine?” Your voice carries from the kitchen, punctuated by the clinking of dishes nearing completion.

“Yeah, sure!” Jimin’s response echoes from the bathroom, filled with anticipation for the cozy evening ahead.

As you open the cabinet, your eyes catch the glint of a bottle of rich red wine tucked away. With a soft pop, the cork relinquishes its hold, releasing the tantalizing aroma of aged grapes. Carefully, you select two delicate glasses, pouring a generous amount into each. The anticipation of sinking into the warm embrace of the bath, wine in hand, fills you with an unexpected giddiness, turning a simple soak into a moment of luxurious indulgence.

You enter the bathroom, and the soft glow of candlelight dances across the walls, casting an enchanting aura over the otherwise dark room. Your breath catches as you take in the sight before you: the bath, filled to just over halfway, exudes inviting warmth, while Jimin stands before you, his form illuminated by the flickering flames, his nakedness a captivating sight. The glasses of wine tremble slightly in your grasp as you carefully set them down beside the tub, feeling a surge of anticipation mingled with a hint of nervous excitement.

Jimin’s allure is undeniable, his presence commanding attention as you step closer to him. His complexion, a velvety blend of creamy hues, emanates warmth beneath the soft glow of candlelight, accentuating the rugged beauty of his form. Your fingers trace the contours of his sturdy pectorals, reveling in the strength they exude. “You look like pure sin,” you murmur, unable to resist the temptation that radiates from every inch of his being.

His laughter fills the room, a melodic accompaniment to the gentle caress of your hands on his chest. As you lean in to kiss him, the warmth of his lips against yours ignites a fire within. “I better get naked too,” you jest, your voice laced with anticipation and a hint of playful mischief.

With eager hands and shared anticipation, you shed your clothes in a flurry of desire. As Jimin assists in revealing your body, he helps pull your shirt off your body. He unclasps your bra and lets it fall to the floor, which makes his breath catch at the sight of your breasts, a primal reaction that ignites a hunger within him. With each garment that falls away, the space between you crackles with an electric tension, building toward the moment when you stand before him, naked and unapologetically yourself, basking in the raw intensity of the moment.

Like magnets drawn together, your bodies intertwine in a passionate embrace, igniting a fiery exchange of kisses that speak volumes in the language of desire. As your lips meet in a fervent dance, you sense the primal response coursing through him, evidenced by the subtle quiver of his dick beneath your touch. With a tender stroke of your hand, you coax forth a soft, involuntary moan.

“Let’s get in,” he urges, his hand enveloping yours as he guides you toward the inviting embrace of the tub. With graceful ease, he eases himself into the warm, welcoming waters, settling against the back while you follow suit, finding your place nestled in the curve of his lap. As you lower yourself into the tranquil depths, the subtle pressure of his dick against your back sends a playful shiver down your spine, eliciting a soft chuckle to escape your lips. The gentle caress of the soothing water envelops your skin, melting away the tensions of the day, cocooning you both in a blissful sanctuary of relaxation.

“Do you like it?” He inquires softly, his fingers expertly tracing soothing circles over your shoulders, coaxing out the tension that had been knotted within your muscles. With each knead and stroke, a contented sigh escapes your lips, a testament to the sheer bliss of his touch.

“I love it,” you murmur, surrendering completely to the sensations coursing through your body as his skilled hands work their magic. With a satisfied smile, you reach for your glass of wine, the cool liquid adding another layer of indulgence to the moment. Placing the glass back on the table, you sink deeper into the warmth of the bath, letting Jimin’s fingers weave their spell over your back, melting away every ounce of stress.

It’s an exquisite sensation, one that sends shivers down your spine as his hands glide from your shoulders to the front, delicately caressing your breasts. The moment his fingers encircle your nipples, your eyes flutter open, a soft gasp escaping your lips, betraying the sheer pleasure coursing through you. His touch ignites an urgent longing within you, echoed by the telltale twitch of his dick pressed against your back.

His touch becomes more fervent, his fingers skillfully rolling your nipples between them, sending waves of sensation coursing through your body. As his lips find the sensitive skin of your shoulder, his bite is both tender and teasing, perfectly complementing the tugs and pinches of his fingers.

Within moments, a surge of arousal floods your senses, igniting a fiery desire deep within your core. Each breath comes quicker, matching the rapid pace of your escalating lust.

As his skilled fingers work your nipples, you arch your back, pressing into his touch, the sensation sparking through your body like wildfire. It’s almost overwhelming how good it feels, sending waves of pleasure coursing through every inch of your being.

You lean back into his chest, letting your head rest beside his, and he teases your nipples, sending bolts of pleasure coursing through your body. “Jimin, fuck—” you moan, the intensity of sensation almost too much to bear.

He hums softly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin, sending shivers of lust down your spine. As he nibbles on your earlobe, a rush of desire floods through you, igniting every nerve ending with longing.

“What do you need baby?” His voice, a velvety whisper in your ear, sends a surge of heat coursing through your veins. As you roll your hips into his, seeking closer contact, the air between you crackles with electricity, fueling the flames of desire.

 “I need you Jimin,” you gasp, surrendering to the intoxicating pull of desire that consumes every fiber of your being.

“You have to be more specific babe,” he breathes in your ear, while one of his hands travels down, “Do you want me to touch you here?” He asks, his fingers hovering just above your clit.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as you bite down on your lip, the anticipation building as you part your legs further. “Yes, please,” you murmur, your voice laced with need and desire, your body trembling with anticipation for his touch.

As his fingers trace delicate patterns over your clit, you gasp at the gentle touch, every stroke sending shivers of pleasure through your body. With each soft moan that escapes your lips, his touch becomes more insistent, his fingers pressing down with increasing urgency, driving you to the brink of ecstasy real fast.

“Jimin!” You pant, your voice a breathless plea as the sensation intensifies, sending a surge of heat coursing through your veins. Your thighs quiver with anticipation, a tidal wave of pleasure building deep within your core, threatening to overwhelm you in its euphoric embrace.

“Are you gonna come so fast?�� His taunt sends a delicious shiver down your spine, igniting a firestorm of desire within you. Despite the teasing, you find yourself powerless against the intoxicating allure of his touch. You know it’s pathetic how fast your body unravels for him, but you can’t help it. 

“Your hands are so good, I can’t help it,” you gasp against the sensitive skin of his throat, fingers gripping the edge of the tub for leverage. Every touch from him feels like an electric current, igniting sensations that leave you breathless. As the tension inside you reaches its breaking point, you surrender completely to the blissful release washing over you.

As the waves of ecstasy surge through you, you surrender to the primal rhythm of your body, yielding to the intoxicating sensations ignited by Jimin’s touch. With every nerve on fire and every muscle tensed, you gasp for precious air, your head finding solace in the comforting curve of Jimin’s neck. “Jimin, I…” you whisper breathlessly, words catching in the throes of pleasure.

He nestles his head closer to yours, his warm breath brushing against your skin. “What is it, babe?” he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing melody.

Your body quivers under his skillful touch, a symphony of sensations coursing through you as he continues to tease your nipples and caress your clit.

“I want to fuck you and for you to fill me up,” you murmur, your voice laden with desire, as you press yourself against him once more.

“Fuck, yeah,” he gasps, urgency lacing his voice as he withdraws his hands from your sensitive nipples and clit, firmly gripping your hips with a hunger that mirrors your own.

You lift yourself up, the anticipation electrifying every nerve as you easily find his dick and slide down on it. “Oh, fuck!” The words escape your lips in a gasp of pleasure as he effortlessly fills you, stretching you to the brink from the very first inch.

With his firm grip, he guides your movements, each thrust a symphony of desire and need as you ride him, fucking yourself on his cock.

You feel his warm breath against your skin as he whispers, “So pretty, baby,” before tenderly pressing his lips to the delicate curve where your neck meets your shoulder.

You tighten your grip on the tub’s edge, seeking leverage, as you rise and descend in slow, tantalizing motions. With each movement, water splashes out.. “Looks like you overfilled it,” you pant, a breathless admission, met with a soft chuckle from him.

As he peppers you with kisses, you strive to maintain your rhythm, riding him with all your passion. Yet, despite your efforts, fatigue begins to set in, and the discomfort in your knees becomes increasingly noticeable. This position, once thrilling, now feels taxing and hurting.

“Babe, my knees are hurting,” you plead, reluctantly pulling yourself off him altogether.

“Come, turn around then. I’m sorry,” he suggests, his tone apologetic as he shifts deeper into the tub, creating space in the middle. You turn around and comply, straddling his lap. As he effortlessly enters you once more, a soft moan escapes your lips, reverberating through the intimate space as he resumes his rhythmic thrusts.

“This is so much better,” you murmur, intertwining your legs and arms around his body. “And I love being able to see your face.”

With a chuckle, he leans in to tenderly kiss your lips, igniting a passionate rhythm as he thrusts up into you. Meeting his movements eagerly, you ride his cock with abandon, the water swirling around you in a sensual dance as the wine long forgotten.

You sense him pulsing within you, sending tremors of pleasure through your core, as your inner muscles start to contract in anticipation of another climax.

“Just let go baby,” he murmurs huskily into your ear, his every movement igniting a wildfire of ecstasy within you. You echo a breathless rendition of his name as your essence cascades around him. Clinging to him desperately, you surrender to the torrent of sensations as he intensifies his thrusts, sending waves of passion crashing through the water.

“Shit, Jimin, are you gonna come too?” You gasp, feeling his urgency mounting with each thrust of his dick, until he finally succumbs with a fervent moan, filling you with his essence and with a groan of your name.

You press your lips to his, savoring the sweet taste of him as you both stay still in the water, letting your orgasms wash over you. Feeling his warmth enveloping you, you start to gently rock your hips, coaxing another shiver from him, lost in the lingering sensations of bliss.

“Babe, it’s too much,” his breath comes in ragged gasps, his hands gently restraining your fervent motions. Looking into his eyes, you’re met with a torrent of desire, the heat of his gaze mirroring the flush that paints his cheeks. 

“Let me wash you up and take care of you,” his voice, a soft whisper against your ear, promises comfort as he retrieves the soap, its fragrance mingling with the warmth of the water. With practiced hands, he massages the lather onto your back, each stroke a tender caress that elicits a contented moan from your lips.

You let him massage you with the soap all over your body, all while he stays deep inside your pussy. Occasionally you feel the twitch of his dick and you realize he hasn’t gone fully soft yet, and now you can just feel him getting harder again.

He washes the soap off your body and you feel so nice, so cleaned and cared for.

“I want to return the favor,” you say, a soft smile gracing your lips as fatigue begins to settle in. Despite the weariness weighing on your body, the desire to care for your boyfriend burns brightly within you, compelling you to offer this small gesture of love.

You slide off his lap and reach for the soap, lathering it in your palms before trailing your hands over his body, mirroring the care he bestowed upon you. With each stroke, he emits soft moans of pleasure, surrendering to the sensation of your touch. His physique is a masterpiece of strength and grace, every muscle defined under your fingertips. As you work your way across his body, his biceps bulge with strength, his abdominals ripple beneath your touch, and he melts into your hands like pliable clay, yielding to your every caress.

“Babe, this is so nice,” his voice, a husky whisper, caresses your ears as he savors the sensation, lost in the bliss of your ministrations. With a tender smile, you rinse away the soap, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. Drawn to him like a magnet, you lean in, capturing his lips in a kiss filled with affection and desire.

“This was such a good idea, Jimin. I loved it and I love you,” with a contented sigh, you express your gratitude, nestling into his embrace. The soft glow of candlelight flickers around you, casting playful shadows as you lean in for another lingering kiss, sealing your words with an affectionate embrace.

“Yeah. I love you too.” His voice, filled with warmth and sincerity, reverberates through the room as he gazes into your eyes, where he finds solace and home. In that moment, he realizes the depth of his feelings, the unspoken promises whispered between your shared glances. Perhaps it’s time to let the symbol of his devotion, the ring he’s carried for months, find its rightful place on your finger.

You linger in the embrace of the warm water, savoring the intimacy shared in those precious moments, until the realization of time nudges you both back to reality. Reluctantly, you rise from the soothing depths, cocooned in the lingering affection of the bath. With gentle care, you tenderly dry each other off, the soft caress of the towels becoming a silent exchange of love and tenderness.

The comfort of spending the night at Jimin’s embraces you like a warm blanket, lingering even as the morning unfolds into a delightful breakfast shared together. With hearts light and minds focused, you dive into the tasks of the day, knowing that the warmth of your shared moments will linger like a sweet whisper in the air.

The gentle breeze caresses your skin, carrying the scent of blooming flowers, while the sun bathes everything in a golden glow, infusing you with an invigorating energy that seems boundless. In this moment, with the world painted in hues of warmth and possibility, you feel an unstoppable surge of euphoria coursing through you, propelling you forward on the wings of boundless optimism.

You’re idly gazing out the window when the distant rumble of an approaching car catches your attention. As it draws nearer, a sense of unease prickles at the edges of your consciousness. Then, recognition dawns like a lightning bolt striking through the air. It's Deiji’s car— Jimin’s ex. The sight sends a ripple of uncertainty coursing through you, stirring up a flurry of thoughts and emotions.

As you watch the car pull up, curiosity interlaces with a thread of apprehension. You feel compelled to step out into the yard, a sense of obligation mingling with a twinge of discomfort. Greeting her with forced politeness, you battle the tide of memories that surge forth with her presence. It’s not that you hold anything against her personally, but her arrival serves as a stark reminder of a painful chapter— a time when Jimin's silence cut deeper than words.

You step into the sunlight, its warmth caresses your skin, momentarily blinding you as you squint against its brilliance. Deiji emerges from her car, her form obscured by the glare, until you draw nearer and discern the telltale curve of her belly. 

Pregnant. 

The realization washes over you, mingling with a spectrum of emotions, from surprise to a begrudging twinge of hurt. Good for her, you think, though beneath the surface, a ripple of complex feelings threatens to surface.

“Hey,” Deiji greets you with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes as you draw nearer. “Is Jimin around? I really need to talk to him.”

You nod in acknowledgment. “He’s inside,” you reply, gesturing towards the house.

“Cool,” she replies, her voice tinged with a hint of discomfort, her hand instinctively cradling her swollen belly. With a slight waddle, she makes her way towards the house. You follow closely, holding the door open to usher her inside.

As you step into the house, you find Jimin, who’s visibly taken aback by Deiji’s unexpected presence beside you.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin’s voice is tense, his gaze flicking towards the elephant in the room: her swollen belly.

As she gently caresses her belly, her words hang heavy in the air. “I came to tell you something,” she begins, her voice trembling slightly. “This baby... it’s yours.”

Your jaw practically hits the floor, and you can feel your heart somersaulting in your chest, threatening to burst out like a cartoon character. Glancing at Jimin, you see his shock mirrored in his wide-eyed expression, a reflection of your own disbelief.

“But we used a condom?” He blurts out, the disbelief and irritation palpable in his voice. It's as if he's trying to grasp at any rational explanation for the bombshell Deiji just dropped, his tone a mix of incredulity and denial.

“You know, sometimes accidents happen…” She utters those words with an infuriating calmness, her hand caressing her belly once more, a gesture that grates on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Every fiber of your being rebels against the notion that she’s carrying Jimin’s child. It feels surreal, like a nightmare you can’t wake up from, as if the ground beneath your feet is shifting and you’re teetering on the edge of a dizzying precipice. In the midst of your own tumultuous emotions, you can’t help but wonder what Jimin is feeling, how he’s processing this bombshell that threatens to upend your world.

Jimin stands before you, an image of stunned disbelief etched into every line of his face.

“And you came here for what, money?” Jimin’s voice trembles slightly, his words laced with a mix of anger and confusion.

A peculiar mix of emotions swirls within you, a tumultuous blend of anger and sadness that leaves you feeling unsettled.

“No. I just wanted to let you know. I know how important family is to you,” she starts, her voice tinged with sincerity as she settles onto a nearby stool.

You’re still standing there, dumbstruck, your emotions swirling like a turbulent storm. Deiji’s words echo in your mind. Jimin values family. Could it be that he wants to be a part of this child’s life?

“Can we get a paternity test, I’d like to be sure, if you don’t mind?” His voice quivers with uncertainty, his gaze flickering between Deiji and you. Despite the tremor in his voice, there’s a glimmer in his eyes, a hint of hope. You can sense it, that if this child is indeed his, he’s ready to embrace it. You just know.

Despite having rarely broached the topic of children and family, you’ve been unequivocal about your stance: kids aren’t part of your immediate plans, perhaps not even in the distant future. Yet, as you observe Jimin’s gaze, tinged with uncertainty, it's evident he’s treading carefully, mindful of your feelings.

“Yes, we can do a paternity test,” she responds, her hand instinctively drifting to her swollen belly once more, a gesture that feels almost possessive.

Jimin exhales deeply, his frustration palpable. “If this child is indeed mine,” he begins, his voice tinged with both uncertainty and a glimmer of resolve, “I want to be involved. I want to be there for them.”

His words hit you like shards of glass, each one piercing deeper than the last. You anticipated his decision, yet the reality of it cuts through you, leaving a raw ache in your chest.

“Great,” she replies with a smirk playing on her lips, as if she’s just achieved her ultimate goal with ease, leaving you feeling like a pawn in her twisted game.

Jimin scratches his head, a nervous habit you’ve noticed before, and turns to you, his expression torn between concern and uncertainty. You find it hard to meet his gaze, your own emotions swirling in a tumultuous storm. This situation feels overwhelming, like a weight you’re not prepared to bear. You're not ready to take on the role of someone's stepmother, to navigate the complexities of raising a child. It's all too much, too soon, and you're not sure how to process it all.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” she says, her tone dripping with faux innocence. As she looks between you, her eyes betray a subtle flicker of mischief. Even through the haze of your sadness, you can’t help but notice it, prompting a flicker of suspicion. What could she possibly be up to?

You’re enveloped in a storm of emotions, each one crashing against you with relentless force. This isn’t how it’s supposed to unfold, not in the grand narrative of your life. It feels like the carefully crafted script has been torn apart, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainty and dismay.

As Deiji departs, she leaves behind a lingering tension, promising to return with the verdict of the paternity test. In her wake, she leaves you and Jimin standing amidst the shattered remnants of what was once your certainty, the world around you now feeling as if it’s tilted on an unfamiliar axis.

In the abrupt aftermath of Deiji’s revelation, it’s as if an unbridgeable chasm has opened up between you and Jimin, leaving you stranded in a silence fraught with uncertainty. Each passing moment stretches like an eternity, filled with the weight of unspoken words and uncharted emotions, leaving you grappling for the right thing to say.

“I’m sorry,” as the tension hangs heavy in the air, Jimin’s voice breaks through the silence like a fragile whisper, laden with the weight of regret and uncertainty. His hand finds yours, offering a gentle reassurance amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions swirling around you both.

A cold numbness settles over you like a heavy shroud, dulling your senses to the world around you, even to the touch of Jimin’s hand clasping yours. Words elude you as you meet his gaze, lost in the hollow void of your own emotions, feeling hollow and devoid of purpose.

“It’s… okay. I know how important family is to you,” you murmur, your voice barely a whisper, drained of its usual warmth and vitality. Each word feels heavy on your tongue, laden with the weight of resignation and sorrow. You force a semblance of understanding into your tone, masking the turmoil brewing within. Yet, beneath the surface, you’re crumbling, feeling like a mere echo of yourself, hollowed out and devoid of the vibrant spirit you once possessed.

“Do you think we can do this?” he implores, his gaze probing yours with a desperate intensity, as if seeking a lifeline in the depths of your soul. Yet, you can’t meet his eyes fully, for fear that he’ll uncover the barren expanse where hope once flourished. In the silence that follows, the weight of uncertainty hangs heavy between you, casting a shadow over any flicker of optimism that might have remained.

“I...,” you start, your voice quivering with emotion as tears threaten to spill from your eyes and your throat constricts with the weight of unspoken fears. 

“I don’t know,” you finally admit, the words hanging in the air like a heavy fog, obscuring any clarity or certainty that might have once existed.

After about a week, Deiji returned with the results of the paternity test, confirming that the child was indeed Jimin’s. It felt as though the ground had shifted beneath your feet once more, leaving you reeling in the aftershocks of this irrevocable revelation.

Since then, you’ve thrown yourself into anything and everything to keep busy, desperate to avoid encountering Deiji altogether. But it seems like she’s practically moved into Jimin's place, and every time you catch a glimpse of them together, it's like a knife twisting in your gut. They’re playing house, oblivious to the turmoil they’ve caused you, and it's tearing you apart inside.

Jimin has been making an effort to keep you in the loop, updating you on the baby’s progress. He tells you that Deiji is now seven months pregnant, and it’s a girl. But with each piece of news, it’s like a dagger to your heart. Part of you doesn’t want to hear it anymore because it’s a constant reminder of the life you never signed up for, the pain you never asked to endure.

It’s not entirely Jimin’s fault; accidents can happen even with precautions. He’s made sincere efforts to include you, but despite his attempts, you can’t shake off the growing chasm between you. It’s like watching two continents slowly drift apart, unable to bridge the gap that keeps widening with each passing day.

Every time Deiji crosses your path, she exudes an aura of radiance, almost as if she's dipped in the fabled glow of pregnancy. You can’t help but notice the adoring glances she casts at Jimin, the lingering touches that seem to extend beyond mere familiarity. It's a bitter pill to swallow, witnessing these subtle gestures, and you wonder if Jimin perceives them as you do. Yet, you’ve kept your silence, letting the unspoken tensions simmer beneath the surface.

Confronting Jimin feels like stepping into a storm, knowing the tempest of emotions brewing within you. It's a conversation you know you should have, to lay bare the tumultuous whirlwind of feelings raging inside. Yet, the words stick in your throat, heavy with uncertainty and fear. How do you articulate the overwhelming doubt, the gnawing apprehension that this path isn't meant for you? 

The thought of navigating this intricate web of emotions with Jimin and Deiji looming in the background feels suffocating, like grappling with shadows that threaten to swallow you whole.

The prospect of parenthood is daunting enough on its own, a weighty responsibility you don’t feel prepared to shoulder. Yet, the thought of co-parenting with another woman adds a layer of complexity you can scarcely fathom. While you acknowledge that blended families are a reality for many, you struggle to envision it as your own. The mere idea of navigating this uncharted territory feels like venturing into a labyrinth with no clear path forward, leaving you grappling with uncertainty and a profound sense of unease.

The green-eyed monster rears its head within you, its claws sinking deep into your heart every time you witness Deiji’s presence beside your boyfriend. Watching her cozy up to him feels like an intrusion, a relentless assault on the sanctuary of your relationship. With each stolen glance and tender touch, it's as if she’s encroaching on sacred ground, threatening to snatch him away from the haven of your love.

You’ve been drifting apart from Jimin, caught in a whirlwind of avoidance and busy distractions. Despite his efforts to reach out and bridge the growing chasm between you, you’ve been hesitant, grappling with conflicting emotions. However, when he extends the invitation, promising to cook for you, you find yourself unable to resist the pull any longer. It’s a chance to reconnect, to confront the mounting tension between you, even if it means braving the storm of uncertainty that awaits.

As you pull into the familiar driveway of his ranch, the weight in your chest seems to grow heavier with each passing second. Dread coils around your heart like a suffocating vine, yet you know deep down that this conversation, however daunting, is inevitable. You sit in the car for a moment, grappling with the turmoil within, torn between the comfort of avoidance and the necessity of facing the truth head-on. With a resigned sigh, you steel yourself for what lies ahead and step out into the uncertain terrain of your emotions.

As you swing the door open, a tantalizing aroma envelops you, weaving its way through the air and tickling your senses. Stepping into the kitchen, your eyes meet Jimin’s, and though he greets you with open arms and a warm embrace, the sweetness of his gesture fails to penetrate the thick fog of your unease. His lips press against yours in a tender kiss, but the connection feels hollow, as if the weight of unspoken words hangs heavy between you.

With a gentle gesture, he pulls out the stool for you, a silent invitation to join him. As you settle onto the seat, your gaze falls upon the meticulously arranged plate of food before you. Despite the rumbling of hunger in your stomach, an invisible barrier seems to stand between you and the meal, rendering it unappetizing despite its savory allure.

“How are you doing, babe?” He inquires, settling into the chair opposite you. With a tender gesture, he reaches for the water pitcher, his eyes never leaving yours as he fills your glass, a silent act of care amidst the weight of unspoken emotions.

Your gaze remains fixed on the plate before you, yet your mind races like a frantic symphony, each thought clamoring for attention amidst the chaos. Your heart quickens its pace within your chest, a drumbeat of apprehension echoing in the silence. Your palms grow clammy with the weight of unspoken words, and your head spins with the tumult of emotions swirling within.

“Babe?” His voice, soft yet insistent, pulls you from the depths of your swirling thoughts. Leaning in, his eyes search yours, brimming with concern, a silent plea for understanding in the midst of your internal storm.

“I...,” your voice falters, tears threatening to spill anew, a familiar ache settling in your chest. “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” the words tumble out, heavy with the weight of uncertainty and fear. As you speak, each syllable feels like a burden, your body tensing, constricted by the weight of your emotions. It’s as if your heart is trapped, pounding relentlessly against the confines of your ribs, suffocating in the tightness of the moment, each breath a struggle against invisible restraints.

“What do you mean?” His voice carries the weight of concern, etched with worry lines that deepen with each passing second. His eyes, a mirror to his troubled mind, search yours for answers, pleading for clarity amidst the fog of uncertainty.

“It’s tearing me apart, Jimin,” you confess, the words tumbling out in a rush, as if trying to escape the weight of your emotions. “Seeing you and Deiji together, it’s like a constant reminder of what I’m not ready for. I can’t handle it—I’m not prepared to step into that role, especially not with someone else’s child.” The heaviness in your chest threatens to suffocate you, each syllable a battle against the turmoil within.

Despite the softness in his gaze, your mind is too consumed by turmoil to fully register it. “I’m sorry, babe,” Jimin murmurs, his voice laced with genuine concern, but it feels distant, overshadowed by the weight of your confession.

His words, though well-meaning, falter as they leave his lips, carrying a hint of uncertainty that mirrors your own inner turmoil. “I’ve been trying to include you in everything... it’s going to be alright. I think we can do it together,” Jimin says, his voice wavering slightly, echoing the uncertainty that looms over your shared future.

With a heavy heart and trembling resolve, you muster the courage to speak your truth. “That hasn’t really helped me... and,” you draw in a deep breath, steeling yourself for the words to come, “I want to break up.” As the weight of your decision hangs in the air, you can almost hear the echoes of your heartbeat, each pulse a reminder of the profound shift unfolding between you.

His face registers the shock of your words, a flicker of hurt crossing his features as though caught off guard by the abruptness of your revelation. The surprise in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent testament to his obliviousness to the silent turmoil brewing beneath the surface for weeks. Amidst the whirlwind of impending fatherhood, perhaps your distress remained invisible, eclipsed by the overwhelming anticipation of a new chapter. It’s a bitter realization, yet you find no solace in casting blame; after all, his preoccupation was understandable given the circumstances.

His words tremble with uncertainty, mirroring the quiver in his voice that betrays a vulnerability you hadn’t fully anticipated. As his gaze meets yours, laden with a blend of confusion and desperation, you grasp the gravity of your decision. His untouched meal sits forgotten, a testament to the weight of your revelation. “You... you want to break up with me?” The question hangs heavy in the air, laced with a rawness that pierces through the silence. “I don’t want us to break up. I love you.” Yet, amidst the turmoil, his declaration of love resonates, a fragile plea tethered to the hope of salvaging what remains of your bond.

With a silent nod, you feel the lump in your throat constricting, stifling the words that threaten to spill forth, and tears blur your vision like unbidden raindrops on a windowpane.

“But I can’t do this anymore, Jimin. I love you deeply, I really do. But this… it hurts me so much, I can’t take it,” you express, your fingertips tracing a path along your arm as tears carve rivulets down your cheeks, your voice quivering with emotion and your breath hitching with each sniffle.

“Babe, I’m truly sorry. I had no idea you were carrying this weight and feeling like this,” his voice drips with sorrow, each word heavy with remorse, and it only amplifies the ache in your chest, pulling you deeper into the vortex of sadness.

“It’s okay. I should have talked to you sooner, it’s just been so hard. A lot has happened and you’re going to be a father and that’s great!” You force enthusiasm into your voice, the artificiality of it chafing against your soul, leaving a bitter aftertaste that lingers uncomfortably.

A furrow deepens upon his brow, betraying the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. His lips, usually so quick to speak, now maintain an uneasy silence, concealing the torrent of thoughts and feelings poised to spill forth.

“I really think it’s best to break up,” you reiterate, sensing a fleeting calm settle over your racing heart.

“But I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he pleads, his voice cracking, tears glistening in his eyes. It’s agonizing. You tighten your grip, desperately searching for any semblance of resolve.

“I know, I don’t want to lose you either. But as much as it pains me, I can’t go on like this. I need to break up,” you say, trying to hold firm, though every word feels like a jagged shard piercing your heart.

“If that’s truly what you want,” his voice barely audible, almost drowned in the weight of the moment, “then I... I understand.” 

“It is,” you respond, the finality of your decision echoing in the stillness of the room.

Tears cascade down both your cheeks, reflecting the pain and sorrow shared between you. With a heavy heart, you rise from the stool, your voice quivering with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Jimin.”

His gaze averts from yours, perhaps overwhelmed by the weight of the moment. You share the sentiment; the intensity is almost suffocating, tears obscuring your vision like a torrential downpour.

“Thank you for dinner. I’m sorry I couldn’t eat, and I’m sorry it had to end like this,” you manage through tears as you step out of the house. Each word feels like a boulder on your chest, weighing you down with the enormity of the situation. Behind you, Jimin’s sobs echo in the air, tugging at the fraying edges of your resolve. You yearn to turn back, to embrace him, and promise that somehow, everything will be alright. But deep down, you know that this pain is inevitable, and your heart, already fractured, can’t bear any more.

As you park your car at home, the weight of the evening’s emotional storm presses down upon you. Tears blur your vision as you lean back in your seat, surrendering momentarily to the overwhelming tide of sadness. Suddenly, a soft knock on your window breaks through the solitude. Startled, you glance over to find your sister standing there, her concerned eyes peering in through the glass, offering a glimmer of solace in the darkness of your despair.

You attempt to staunch the flow of tears with the rough fabric of your sleeve, and you take a deep breath and gather your courage before opening the door and stepping out into the cool night air.

Her eyes widen with concern, scanning your face for clues to the turmoil within. “What happened?” she asks, her voice laced with apprehension, mirroring the anxious furrow of her brow.

You collapse into her embrace, tears flowing freely as you surrender to the weight of your emotions. “I broke up with Jimin,” you confess, your voice choking with sorrow and regret.

She envelops you in a comforting embrace, whispering soothing words into your ear as her gentle hand traces comforting circles on your trembling back, offering solace in the warmth of her presence.

The solace she offers feels like a balm to your wounded soul, a fleeting moment of respite amidst the storm of emotions raging within you.

As she absorbs your tears with her embrace, she gently queries, “Why did you break up with him?” Her voice carries a blend of concern and curiosity, inviting you to share the weight of your heartache.

Amidst your tears and sniffles, you pour out your heart, “I don’t want kids and I can’t be in a relationship with Jimin and Deiji, because she’ll always be there now.” The weight of your words carries the burden of your decision, punctuating the depth of your emotional turmoil.

With gentle reassurance, she guides you across the yard, her comforting touch a lifeline in the storm of your emotions. Though your steps falter, you find solace in her presence as she leads you back into the sanctuary of the house, your tears mingling with the memories of what once was.

“I’m so sorry,” with heartfelt sincerity, she utters words of empathy, her voice a soothing balm to your wounded spirit. As you both settle onto the familiar embrace of the couch in the living room, she enfolds you in her arms once more, offering solace in the warmth of her embrace.

“Me too,” you manage between choked sobs, the ache in your chest palpable with each word. “I still love him so much. It fucking hurts!” Your voice rises, echoing the turmoil within, tears streaming down your face unabated. As your body trembles with emotion, you wonder if this pain will ever relent, if time will ever heal this shattered heart.

“It’s going to be alright, sis,” she murmurs, her voice a soothing balm against the storm raging within you. With gentle strokes, she caresses your hair, guiding your head to rest against her chest. In the warmth of her embrace, you find a fleeting solace, a momentary respite from the tempest of emotions tearing you apart.

“I don’t know, Jess…” You manage between hiccups, the weight of your words heavy with sorrow. “Jimin is the love of my life. I’m just not ready for kids... and I…” Pausing to gather the fragments of your shattered heart, you let the raw ache of longing spill forth. “I can’t do it. I feel jealous all the time. And now he’s going to be a dad?” Each syllable quivers with the agony of uncertainty, a plaintive cry echoing the turmoil within.

She gently pats your head again, a soothing rhythm against the tempest raging within you, yet the storm of emotions refuses to settle.

“I hate myself for feeling like this. For not being ready to have kids… but I just can’t,” you confess, your tears flowing erratically, echoing the tumultuous turmoil within.

“Perhaps my love isn’t strong enough,” you suddenly ponder aloud, lifting your gaze to seek solace in your sister’s eyes, hoping for clarity amidst the storm of doubts swirling within.

“I believe you love Jimin with every fiber of your being. But sometimes, prioritizing your own well-being is necessary. If you can’t fully commit, it’s better to step away before you’re consumed by the pain,” she offers, her words a balm to your wounded heart. Despite the anguish tearing you apart, her reassurance provides a glimmer of clarity, even though the thought of moving on from Jimin feels like an insurmountable task— and deep down you know that you’ll never get over 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 💜

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[ddjsocxcanonrambles]

A list of Platonic F/Os me and my OC share:

(Heads up this will feature the main cast only because it will make things easier for you guys. Enjoy 😊)

Hazbin Hotel (For Spunky) ( Main Cast Only):

Angel Dust: Platonic Big Brother like Big brother little sister relationship while having same sense of dark humor. Sometimes will bicker and fight like siblings do, but will make up after.

Charlie: Indifferent but mutual due to her being overly nice to her. Charlie isn’t afraid to call Spunky out for being a jerk to her.

Vaggie: Salty Frienemies that would bicker and roast eachother. But sometimes Vaggie will be the voice of reason to help redirect Spunky (since she’s cognitively disabled/Autistic) even if she can be very stubborn but then will admit her faults.

Niffty: Fast BFFs, think of Spongebob and Patrick

Sir Pentious: Mesmerized by his steampunk technology even though she can be a tsundere/grump around him since he is a lovable dummy.

Husk: Bugs and Daffy Frienemies, will steal some booze from his bar and sometimes ruthlessly roast each other (But Spunky and Husk will eventually like eachother since “Big Bro” has a crush on him)

Cherry Bomb: Huge Fan to friends later on. Spunky sees her as an inspiration of being not giving two sh*ts and a badass girl (also why she [Spunky] uses fireworks as her weapons of choice).

One Piece (Mostly focusing on the StrawHat crew):

Luffy: Funny Buddy and respected captain, is also the kindest person ever

Zoro: At first intimidating but is actually a pretty cool dude, even if sometimes he gets lost. Also great gym buddy.

Nami: Platonic kinning sisters (Since were both temperamental orange blondes), will tag team each other if Brook asks for a certain garment to get a rise out of us. But sometimes will sibling fight about who’s the more stingiest LOL

Ussop: Art and comedic buddy. As in showing doodles and art trades as well as making jokes.

Sanji: Only likes him for making me food, not when he’s ogling and nose bleeds while he enables Brook’s naughty behavior as well as Brook enables his. (This is where Nami helps to keep things under control)

Chopper: Respects him as a doctor and knows he’s a reindeer (not a Tanuki/raccoon dog). Candy pals and emotional support buddy.

Robin: Thinks she’s the coolest person ever, more like big sister figure (even if we’re around the same age). Also shares the same dark sarcasm humor.

Franky: Big Brother figure, and loves to share Dr. Pepper with the guy. Thinks he’s, well, SUPER

Jinbe: Best Father figure ever, gives great advice. Also, great meditation buddy.

[clonesupport]

OC Aesthetics: Voidpunk Edition

thank you @socially-awkward-skeleton for tagging me for this!

bold: always, italics: sometimes, strikethrough: never

Biblically-Accurate Angel: Wears brighter colours than most of the other options, Has way too many eyes, Kind and Friendly but a little Aloof, Obsessed with vaguely religious imagery even if they’re not actually religious, Freckles covering their shoulders and arms, Artist Vibes, Chaotic Good, Unassuming but always Underestimated, Definitely the type of kid to close their eyes on a swing set and pretend they’re flying, Just really liked Good Omens tbh, Book lover, Loves the feeling of sunlight

Old Forest God: Definitely listens to Hozier, Extremely cheap when it comes to money, Probably owns a lot of denim, Just wants to get lost in the woods as an escape from modern capitalism, Foggy Mountains, Lanterns glowing in the fog of dusk, Binges Lotr & The Hobbit whenever they feel sad, Loves watching the sunrise, Says weirdly cryptic but incredibly wise shit all the time, Gives really good advice, Just wants to lie down in a patch of moss and decay, Not really bothered by death honestly, Has worn this same sweater for the past 3 days

Object Head: Old-School or Vintage Aesthetic, Extremely specific Special Interests, Probably waxes poetically to themself every night, Galaxy Print everything, Probably owns way too many jackets, Wise beyond their years, Excellent sense of humor, Probably really into embroidery or knitting, Theatre kid, Just really tired tbh, Would probably punch god right now, So stressed they’re actually calm, Keeps way too many journals and diaries, Terrible memory for basic tasks, Needs a lot of physical pressure to feel comfortable or sleep

Robot: Intentionally tacky fashion sense, Patterned Button-ups for Days, Their wardrobe looks like the floor of an 80s arcade, Cold Hands, Very poor social skills, Feels feelings in their own unique way that nobody understands, Hates when people pity them, Rarely ever understands jokes and honestly doesn’t want to, Is actually doing pretty well with online learning tbh, Tech savvy, Probably had a Goth phase in Middle or High School, Loves to keep collections of really hyper specific things, Excellent memory

Cryptid: Can recite both the entire X-Files and Gravity Falls theme songs, Has fully embraced the term “feral”, Likes to visit animal shelters and play with the puppies and kittens a lot, Just wants fangs man, Obsessed with Mythology, Honestly wouldn’t really mind being feared by some, Really morbid interests, Definitely liked crawling up onto the roof as a kid, Wanderer, Likes to explore a lot, Talk to the moon when they need to vent, Likes nesting in blankets and pillows

Alien: Obsessed with Buzzfeed Unsolved, Shane Madej Vibes, That holographic material that’s silver and shines rainbow is their peak aesthetic, Acts like they’re studying humans even though they’re a part of the same species (or are they???), Obsessed with space, Feral Scientist vibes, Just really wants to learn everything they can, Owns way too much NASA Merch, Pastel Shades, Can still recite their childhood lullabies word-for-word, Philosophy Nerd

Vaguely Humanoid Shaped: Quiet Kid who’s always underestimated, Gave up on the perception of self 12 years ago, Maladaptive Daydreamer, Listens to older styles of Music, Goes all-out for Halloween, Has a lot of dysphoria, Craves Human Contact so much dude, Hates online learning with a fiery passion, Obsessed with the Magnus Archives, A Crybaby but in a good way, Loves taking things apart and putting them back together again, Gifted Kid Burnout™, Obsessively researched and infodumps about their special interest(s), Has very few friends unfortunately, Always sits in the very back of class

Oh God wtf is That: Wild Overly-Saturated Colors, Gets personally offended if they ever fit in with the majority, Likes being weird and fully embraces it, Probably had that phase where they were really interested in studying Serial Killers for some reason, Definitely a Chaotic Neutral, Visual Stims a lot, Unintentionally ends up staring at people because they’re zoning out, Buries their issues under a thick blanket of memes and funky music, Vents their emotions through their art or writing or whatever artform they choose

Biblically-Accurate Angel: Wears brighter colours than most of the other options, Has way too many eyes, Kind and Friendly but a little Aloof, Obsessed with vaguely religious imagery even if they’re not actually religious, Freckles covering their shoulders and arms, Artist Vibes, Chaotic Good, Unassuming but always Underestimated, Definitely the type of kid to close their eyes on a swing set and pretend they’re flying, Just really liked Good Omens tbh, Book lover, Loves the feeling of sunlight

Old Forest God: Definitely listens to Hozier, Extremely cheap when it comes to money, Probably owns a lot of denim, Just wants to get lost in the woods as an escape from modern capitalism, Foggy Mountains, Lanterns glowing in the fog of dusk, Binges Lotr & The Hobbit whenever they feel sad, Loves watching the sunrise, Says weirdly cryptic but incredibly wise shit all the time, Gives really good advice, Just wants to lie down in a patch of moss and decay, Not really bothered by death honestly, Has worn this same sweater for the past 3 days

Object Head: Old-School or Vintage Aesthetic, Extremely specific Special Interests, Probably waxes poetically to themself every night, Galaxy Print everything, Probably owns way too many jackets, Wise beyond their years, Excellent sense of humor, Probably really into embroidery or knitting, Theatre kid, Just really tired tbh, Would probably punch god right now, So stressed they’re actually calm, Keeps way too many journals and diaries, Terrible memory for basic tasks, Needs a lot of physical pressure to feel comfortable or sleep

Robot: Intentionally tacky fashion sense, Patterned Button-ups for Days, Their wardrobe looks like the floor of an 80s arcade, Cold Hands, Very poor social skills, Feels feelings in their own unique way that nobody understands, Hates when people pity them, Rarely ever understands jokes and honestly doesn’t want to, Is actually doing pretty well with online learning tbh, Tech savvy, Probably had a Goth phase in Middle or High School, Loves to keep collections of really hyper specific things, Excellent memory

Cryptid: Can recite both the entire X-Files and Gravity Falls theme songs, Has fully embraced the term “feral”, Likes to visit animal shelters and play with the puppies and kittens a lot, Just wants fangs man, Obsessed with Mythology, Honestly wouldn’t really mind being feared by some, Really morbid interests, Definitely liked crawling up onto the roof as a kid, Wanderer, Likes to explore a lot, Talk to the moon when they need to vent, Likes nesting in blankets and pillows

Alien: Obsessed with Buzzfeed Unsolved, Shane Madej Vibes, That holographic material that’s silver and shines rainbow is their peak aesthetic, Acts like they’re studying humans even though they’re a part of the same species (or are they???), Obsessed with space, Feral Scientist vibes, Just really wants to learn everything they can, Owns way too much NASA Merch, Pastel Shades, Can still recite their childhood lullabies word-for-word, Philosophy Nerd

Vaguely Humanoid Shaped: Quiet Kid who’s always underestimated, Gave up on the perception of self 12 years ago, Maladaptive Daydreamer, Listens to older styles of Music, Goes all-out for Halloween, Has a lot of dysphoria, Craves Human Contact so much dude, Hates online learning with a fiery passion, Obsessed with the Magnus Archives, A Crybaby but in a good way, Loves taking things apart and putting them back together again, Gifted Kid Burnout™, Obsessively researched and infodumps about their special interest(s), Has very few friends unfortunately, Always sits in the very back of class

Oh God wtf is That: Wild Overly-Saturated Colors, Gets personally offended if they ever fit in with the majority, Likes being weird and fully embraces it, Probably had that phase where they were really interested in studying Serial Killers for some reason, Definitely a Chaotic Neutral, Visual Stims a lot, Unintentionally ends up staring at people because they’re zoning out, Buries their issues under a thick blanket of memes and funky music, Vents their emotions through their art or writing or whatever artform they choose

[noctisfishing]

To me, Digimon fanfiction is Home.

Don't forget to check out the #fanfic tag for @digiweek! :)

Writing fic is awesome. There can be moments of feeling stuck, and trying to figure out how this scene should go or how that part should be worded, but being able to write out my ideas for characters I love and then being able to read them later is so comforting!

You've seen me reblog my own works over the last 6 days, but for the final day of this event, and in honor of Odaiba Day, I wanted to celebrate the works of other fanfic writers. The fics I'm sharing are for Digimon Adventure, and these fics were previously included in my #NoctIsReading lists, meaning I've read them all and LOVED them!! Although, to stay in the spirit of Digiweek, I will be listing the fics that have a rating up to T (so, no M or NSFW here!).

The list is long, so to make it easy, I will include them under the cut. They will be divided into sections, with the first one as General (no ship focus) and the ones following alphabetically by ship name.

Here's what you can expect - each section & their fic counts:

General x 11

Jyoura x 2

Koumi x 5

Michi x 1

Sorato x 5

Taiora x 12 + Taiora Week 2020

Taiyama x 14

Takari x 2 + Takari Week 2020

I hope you find something that catches your eye, and I'd love for you to give these talented writers some love, especially if you end up enjoying their works, too!

Happy Reading, and Happy Odaiba Day!

General

[01 Digidestined] - The Tamer - A Digimon Adventure (Longfic - Completed) // T // @the-digimon-tamer // Action/Adventure

[Hikari] - Ringing in the New Year // @digitalworldbound

[Joe/OC] - Imaginary Girlfriend // arpulver @firstagent // Angst/Romance

[Ken & Takeru] - “I think my moral compass is on vacation” // @tangledupblue // Hurt/Comfort/Friendship

[Ken & Takeru & Yamato (& Iori?)] - the crux // @earlgreymon // Hurt/Comfort/Friendship

[Ken & Osamu & Ryo] - The Other Three // Settiai // Adventure

[Sora] - “Grief” // @uniarycode // Angst

[Tai] - “I may be stupid but I’m not an idiot” // @stoppingtosmelltheflowers

[Tai] - Tai’s Little Girly Nightmare // J13579 // Humor

[Tai & Kari & Matt] - Circuits (Longfic - Completed) // T // Sweet Cari // Sci-Fi/Hurt/Comfort

[TK / Past Takari] - Lost Magic // G // Sadie Dragonfire // Drama

Jyoura

“I would’ve never thought that I could lose my mind for you” // T // tangledupblue // Romance

Steep, Sip, Savor // T // @scripturienss // Past Romance

Koumi

Bette Davis eyes // K+ // Lovestra // Romance/Humor

Between Dusk and Dawn (Longfic - In Progress) // T // stoppingtosmelltheflowers // Adventure/Drama

Chessboards and Rainbows // T // @renchan7 // Romance/Hurt/Comfort

Hello // stoppingtosmelltheflowers

“I love you to the Moon and Saturn” // stoppingtosmelltheflowers

Michi

Proust // T // @piedrpiper // Friendship/Humor

[yeeaahh Noct should be reading more of this ship ;P ]

Sorato

Can I Keep You? (Longfic - Completed) // T // renchan7 // Romance/Drama

Daikon // K // @lexlexafanfiction // Romance

Warm Greys // T // objectivity @patamon-ears // Friendship/Romance

When A Man Loves A Woman // T // renchan7 // Romance

When the universe is in your wrist // K // @skuag // Romance/Hurt/Comfort

Taiora

Chocolate-Covered Croissants // T // renchan7 // Friendship/Romance

Fate // T // garudamon // Friendship

I Will Always Find You (Longfic - Completed) // T // renchan7 // Romance/Adventure

Iridescent Sugar Clouds // T // earlgreymon // Fluff/Romance

Of balls and other dramas // K // @gossipchii // Friendship

Playground // T // stoppingtosmelltheflowers // Romance/Friendship

Some kind of love // T // tangledupblue // Friendship

Summer Lovin’ // T // calamansifresh // Fluff

sunflowers // T // earlgreymon // Fluff/Romance

That Crazy Little Thing // G // katsumi // Romance

The Documentary // T // @dutchforstrangers // Humor/Romance

Wedding Dance // K //  dutchforstrangers // Friendship/Romance

Taiora Week 2020

Click to read Courage and Love Through the Years from @snarkyredvelvetlover

Click here to read from EveandJohnny @rockthistowninsideout

Click here to read from @squitayumin

TaiYama

A Particular Type of Friendship // K+ // smartalec121 // Friendship

And They Met Over a Jar of Peanut Butter // G // zanarkand // Crack/Romance (<1K)

Beginning’s End // G // wingsofvalor // (Good Omens AU) (!!!)

Between bars and other things // G // @misslouder // Romance/Angst

Ferris Wheel // T // @sakurarebin // Romance/Humor

I’d walk through fire for you, just let me adore you // T // SweetVeganCheese // Friendship/Romance hints

Inconceivable // T // Osidiano // Friendship/Angst

Miso Soup & You // T // @nihilbliss ​ // Romance/Friendship

[ Music-Inspired Summer Prompts 3 x 4 x 7 x 22 ] // tangledupblue // Angst

Sleeping Angels // G // rubychan05 // Romance/Fluff (<1K)

September 7th // T // tangledupblue // Romance/Friendship

Straight as a Straw (Longfic - In Progress) // T // frozencharisma // Romance/Drama

“Well, you’re coming home with me….” // stoppingtosmelltheflowers // Romance/Fluff

“You know me better than I give you credit” // tangledupblue // Romance/Fluff

Takari

Changing Course // T // stoppingtosmelltheflowers // Friendship/Romance

Holy Darkness (Longfic - In Progress) // T // stoppingtosmelltheflowers // Adventure/Angst

Takari Week 2020

Fics by stoppingtosmelltheflowers

Fics by @digitaldreams0801

Fics by digitalworldbound

Fics by earlgreymon

Fics by tangledupblue

Fics by uniarycode

[justbecausewhynot]

Lady Of Sun and Shadows Part 8 {Azriel x Reader/OC}

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8

After a long week of rest (and not rest wink wink) and relaxation from both sides of the couple, Aurora was beginning to see the bright side of her situation. Sure, her whole life had crumbled down to ashes in under a day, what was her home only two weeks ago was now a place that she could never go back to and she had just lost the one thing that had comforted her for months on end, but Aurora felt like she was under a spell. She couldn’t help but smile and feel giddy whenever the prospect of a new life popped into her head. A life specifically with her new mate, one that had nothing to do with Helion and the horrible life she tried to forget. 

“Why are you so smiley?” A groggy Azriel asked, laying across from Aurora on the bed. The sunlight was streaming in through the open window, and there was a peaceful aura to the room. 

“I just feel like I’m dreaming” Aurora replied. “I feel as if I’ll wake up and all this will be gone, so I have to enjoy it as much as possible while I am still here.” 

Azriel reached out and pulled Aurora’s body flush against his. He slowly kissed her on the forehead and wrapped his hands to hug her. 

“Well…” Azriel whispered in her ear “If I wake up and find out I was dreaming, I would storm Helion’s mansion to find you. And If you weren’t there, I would search the ends of the earth to find you.”

“Well what if you made me up? What if I’m just a figment of your imagination?” Aurora mused.

“My mind is not imaginative enough to envision an angel such as yourself my dear.”

“You sure know how to romance a girl.”

“I’ve had more than enough time to practice.” 

“So… what’s next? As much I would love to stay in this cabin forever with you, I’m sure you have all sorts of super secret shadowsinger things to do back in the night court.”

“Well, we could start by flying back to our home.”

“Our?” Aurora whispered, tearing up. 

“That’s right, now that I have you, I refuse to separate from you once.”

“Oh Azriel.” She cried, burying her face into his chest. “Let’s go home.”

*Time Skip*

After gathering everything from the small cabin, Azriel grabbed up his mate and winnowed his way to the house of wind. “Don’t worry. You’ll love it.” He whispered in Aurora’s ear just before they landed in a bedroom of the house. 

“I’ll let you get settled in and changed.” Azriel said, holding Aurora’s hands. “I’ll be waiting downstairs when you’re ready to meet everyone. 

Azriel made his way down to a waiting Rhysand. “How is she?”

“Better than I anticipated.” Azriel said, 

“100 gold pieces” Cassian call out, walking up to the pair.

Confused, Rhysand says “What are you going on about now Cassian?”

“I bet both of you 100 gold pieces… that Nesta rips Aurora to shreds.”

“Do you understand what she has been through?” Rhysand lectures, throwing his hands up in the air. “Go tell Nesta to be nice.”

“200 that Aurora wins.” Azriel jumps in, smirking at Cassian. “You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

“What is the matter with both of you?!” Rhysand bellows

“What is it this time?” Feyre calls walking in with Amren. 

“They’re betting on Nesta vs Aurora!” Rhysand explains “Unbelievable am I right?”

“Put me down for Nesta.” Amren says “Poor girl, she is going to be in tears before she can even say hello.”

“Well I have faith in Aurora. She’s tough.” Feyre adds.

“You too?!” Rhysand shakes his head.

“Oh loosen up Rhys, she’ll love it here. Stop worrying.” Feyre says as she takes Rhysand’s hand and moves him next to her. 

Aurora was in her room, looking at herself in the mirror. The night court’s colours looked good on her, and she finally felt at home. Pushing down, her nervousness on meeting everyone, she stepped out of the room and began down the large staircase. Azriel was at the bottom smiling at her, together with her new family. 

Once she got down to the bottom, Azriel gave her a quick kiss and pulled her waist against his. “Aurora, you already know Cassian, Rhysand and Feyre.” Azriel said as she gave each person a hug. “This is Amren. The second-in-command.”

“Nice to meet you. I was always curious what Azriel’s mate would be like. I hope you have a better sense of humor than him.” She said nudging Azriel.

“I’d like to think so.” Aurora said laughing at her mate’s rolled eyes. “I talk more than him if that’s a bonus,”

“Definitely.” Amren said before Nesta walked in.

“What’s going on? She coldly said. “Cassian told me to come down. This better be important”

“We’d like you to meet Aurora, Azriel’s mate.” Rhysand announced. 

Nesta looked Aurora up and down, slowly walking towards her with a stern look.

“Here it comes.” Cassian muttered, earning a subtle pinch from Feyre.

“Hello.” Aurora said, not quite sure how to approach the disdainful woman. “I’ve heard so much about you from Feyre. It’s so great to finally meet you.”

“Hmm.” Nesta simply murmured. 

“I’ve heard the library here is quite extensive. I’m excited to see it.” Aurora said, trying to relieve the tension.

“Come with me, I’ll show you where it is.” she said before walking away. Not waiting to see if Aurora was following. 

“Well I guess I’ll see you guys later.” She said, separating herself from Azriel, giving him a kiss on the cheek and speeding after Nesta.

“What just happened?” Cassian asked dumbfounded.

Chuckling, Azriel patted him on the back. “Looks like none of us won.” He said and walked away. 

“I think that’s the most positivity that I have ever seen in Nest at once.” Feyre said, still amazed at what just happened. 

“If Nesta likes her, that’s a good sign… right?” Amren said

“Azriel sure met his match.” Rhysand said before they all separated.

Tag List (open, send me a message if u want in)

@theimaginehotspot

@moonlit-stardust

[joyful-soul-collector]

10 Songs Tag

rules: put your playlist on shuffle and list the first ten songs.

Thanks for tagging me @ambivalentmarvel! I’m gonna have some fun with this one and put it on my Pearl Thief playlist (playlist for my original story), and then tell you all why that song reminded me of Pearl Thief and I decided to put it on the playlist!

1. Pittsburgh (No Intro) by The Amity Affliction. I put this one on the list because it reminds me a lot of Tatum, and how he feels angry and lost and depressed, but that he keeps going for his baby bother. That and all the words about “water in my lungs” definitely gives my ocean vibes. My favorite part though is when it sounds like a crowd is singing, and that makes me picture all the other characters singing with him. 

2. Ninja Archer by Luke Cyrus. This song was reccomended to me by @tracle0 (as a lot of the songs on this playlist are lol) This song is on here because it reminds me of Loch, who’s my little four year old OC and Tatum’s baby brother! It just reminds e of how silly and happy he is, and how he would 100% pretend to be a Ninja Archer like the song talks about. 

3. We All Lift Together (From “Warframe”) by Keith Power. This gives me general dystopian vibes, and how everyone is kinda fuckin miserable and the people are just trying to survive. The line that said “And we all lift / And we’re all adrift together / Together” really gives me PT vibes and how the main characters feel lost, but at least they’re lot together. 

4. Doctor by Truslow. Another rec from @tracle0! Full of good songs that one. Anyway this song reminds me of the insanity of the a lot of the syreni. They’re just insane and practically zombie-like, if zombies often talked and had strategy to their attacks haha. 

5. Isabella’s Lullaby (From “The Promised Neverland”) by Miura Jam. This song doesn’t actually have words that tie into the story, or words at all, but lullabies are a bit of a thing in Pearl Thief, as Tatum sometimes sings Loch lullabies. Also the themes in the actual tv show this song is from, The Promised Neverland, are definitely similar to those in PT, things like living in a dystopian world and trying to escape form it are bi in both stories. 

6. Still Though We Should Dance by Radnor & Lee. Another one from @tracle0, thank you for that my friendo. This song reminds me of Tatum and Art! Tatum and Art are in love, but they weren’t fans of each other at first, and the line “I really wanna hate you but my case is thin” reminds me of that. The general tune and vibe also reminds me of the happy, bouncy feeling they feel for each other, as well as how they want their future to be, even if right now it’s not exactly jaunty haha. 

7. Your Guardian Angel by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. This song is definitely a Tatum & Loch song. I think it’s originally meant to be a romantic love song, but 99% of the lyrics can be interpreted as platonic/familial love, which is obviously the type of love Tatum feels for Loch. It also isn’t supposed to be a lullaby, but I can totally see Tatum singing this song quietly to Loch as a lullaby. The line “I’ll be there for you through it all, even if saving you sends me to heaven” is extreme Tatum & Loch vibes haha. 

8. Aloy’s Theme (feat. Julie Elven) - Part 1 - Motherland by Joris de Man. This is just PT vibes man. I like to think that this is what syreni music sounded like before their society collapsed and people stopped playing instruments and singing in groups like this. 

9. G.O.A.T. by Polyphia. Another just PT vibes one. This one has a specific amv that plays in my head whenever I hear it that unfortunately is classified as I can’t install a projector in my brain and show you all. But it’s mainly a Tatum-ish song, with a little bit of Nessie in there too. 

10. SAD (Clap Your Hands) by Young Rising Sons. ONCE AGAIN thank you @tracle0 for sending this on over. They had thought it’d be a Tatum song at first, but it’s a bit too jaunty for him. So, obviously, it became a Seven song, as Seven is also sad like Tatum, but unlike him, they’re coping mechanism is humor and not anger haha. 

Imma tag: @tracle0 @baloobird @mysterycheerio @superherotiger (dw you guys don’t have to do the same thing I did with doing it with a wip playlist and typing it out the reasons, you can just do the normal game if you prefer lol) as well as anyone else who wants to play!

[pengychan]

[Coco] Nuestra Iglesia, Pt. 14

Title: Nuestra Iglesia Summary: Fake Priest AU. In the midst of the Mexican Revolution, Santa Cecilia is still a relatively safe place; all a young orphan named Miguel has to worry about is how to get novices Héctor and Imelda to switch their religious vows for wedding vows before it’s too late. He’s not having much success until he finds an unlikely ally in their new parish priest, who just arrived from out of town. Fine, so Padre Ernesto is a really odd priest. He’s probably not even a real priest, and the army-issued pistol he carries is more than slightly worrying. But he agrees that Héctor and Imelda would be wasted on religious life, and Miguel will take all the help he can get. It’s either the best idea he’s ever had, or the worst. Characters: Miguel Rivera, Ernesto de la Cruz, Héctor Rivera, Imelda Rivera, Chicharrón, Óscar and Felipe Rivera, OCs. Imector. Rating: T

[All chapters up are tagged as ‘fake priest au’ on my blog.]

A/N: Hey, remember when I said this story was going to be about 90% humor? Good times, man. Good times. Art by Senora_Luna. [There is some somewhat graphic violence described, and brief mention of past sexual situations with dubious consent at best. Just a heads-up.]

***

Padre Fernando Mendoza did not like Americans.

It was nothing personal - he’d met a few decent ones - but as a whole, he suspected his country and arguably most of the continent would have fared much better without them. Even so, the telegram that reached them that morning had been entirely unexpected. 

Americans attacked Veracruz. Battle ongoing. 

It was all everyone in the Archdiocese was talking about, and it had taken precedence over everything else, because of course the last thing Mexico needed at the moment was hostility from a foreign power and the attack could not be ignored. However, not everything could come to a standstill, and Padre Fernando was expected to deal with menial tasks. 

Which included replying to a letter that had just arrived from Sant Cecilia. And, ironically enough, it came from an American. That American. 

Fernando had groaned when he’d opened it to see the signature. He didn’t much like that gringo; truth be told, even among clergy few people appreciated the foreigner who kept telling them at every turn how they were doing things wrong, bemoaning the persistence of pagan fetishes in Mexico like they were not already aware of it, muchas gracias. 

But he had been sent in good faith, and he did uphold the Catholic Church’s official position - not realizing that the Vatican was, quite literally, an ocean apart - so they had to support him. He’d even had the blessing of their own Archbishop Eulogio Gillow y Zavalza, who’d had to flee Mexico and had found refuge in San Antonio first, then in Los Angeles.

“I am loath to offend traditional sensibilities,” he'd written. “It might turn people away from the Church rather than towards it. But I am concerned idolatry and too rampant religious disorder might weaken faith. This young man is eager to prove himself - it is fair to give him a chance.”

The letter didn’t add ‘if an American causes offense it won’t be on us’, but it may as well have. So far, it seemed that the one to truly take offense at… everything was the gringo himself. And it seemed that the sun and heat had gotten to his head, judging from the contents of the letter Padre Fernando was reading now. 

“... Lastly, I find the new parish priest to be, quite bluntly, severely lacking. I do not question his faith, but his methods are concerning - likely due to inexperience, as perhaps the seminary did not adequately prepare him for his first task as a man of God. I will gladly assist however I can, but I would suggest you consider sending a more experienced priest…”

Ay, he’d lost it, hadn’t he? Fernando had been present when news had come of Padre Edmundo’s death, and when his replacement had been chosen. He’d never met Padre Joaquín, but had only ever heard good things about him. What was the gringo going on about?

Normally, he might have handed the letter to someone above him for consideration; but right there and then, with everyone busy discussing the possible ramifications of a conflict with the very country their Archbishop was currently living in, he felt it would be a waste of their time. So Padre Fernando sighed, took pen and paper, and took it upon himself to write a response to that idiota, who thought he was smarter than anybody else but was so up his high horse he couldn’t even tell a parish priest from a novice.

With all due respect, we believe - as certainly you have by now realized - that you’re mistaken. Padre Joaquín is no novice, his seminary days far behind him. He was highly recommended for his strong leadership, a very important asset in such turbulent times, when faith is tested. Is there a possibility you met one of the novices instead? Language can be a barrier…

***

“Hola, Juan! How’s your back?”

“GAH!”

All right, maybe Ernesto should have knocked before throwing the door open and calling out, but to be fair he was rather nervous for what was most likely going to be a very awkward meeting. And to be honest, considering his track record when it came to making wise choices, this wasn’t even the worst. This time, he hadn’t even patted him on the back as-- wait, what had he just dropped?

“F-father Ern-- what-- what are you doing here?” 

Juan very nearly shrieked, getting Ernesto’s full attention before he could try to get a closer look at what looked like a handful of pieces of paper on the ground next to the bed. The wounds on his back were beginning to heal, most having scabbed over, but he was still on his stomach on the mattress, sheets up to his waist. At his sight, he seemed to be trying to shrink. Not a very successful attempt. 

Ernesto smiled the way you would at a man who has absolutely not been whipping himself raw in sheer horror at his own desire to fuck you, and held up the tray. “Lunch,” he said lightly.

“But why you!” Padre Juan choked out, only to catch himself when Ernesto raised an eyebrow. His face began turning red almost immediately. “I-I mean, I-- I mean no disrespect but usually… the sisters…

“They were busy, and asked me to do this on their behalf,” Ernesto said, and went to put the tray down on the nightstand. Juan quickly reached down to pick up whatever it was he’d been looking at when Ernesto had come in.

“Wait, I’ll pick that for yo--”

“No!” Juan almost screamed. “No, I-- I got it, I got it, no need--” He snatched everything up quickly, but not so quickly that Ernesto couldn’t see it was photographs… and get a glimpse at his own face, smiling at the camera. “This is just-- these are just-- bad photos, the ones I couldn’t mail out, I was… I was…”

Juan stammered, and Ernesto couldn’t help but feel some pity for him. “Trying to figure out how you can take better ones next time?”

Juan gave him a look of pure relief. “I-- yes, of course. Yes,” he said, shoving the photographs under the pillow. His face was almost purplish. “Practice makes perfect a-and… I can’t say I aim for perfection, only God is perfect, but--”

“But you wish to properly portray His wonders, I am sure?” Ernesto said, feeling just a little smug. That, however, went well over Juan’s head: he just nodded, and cleared his throat. 

“I… thank you for the meal.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, and smiled, sitting on the chair. Juan stared at him, then at the door, then at him again. Ernesto leaned back, still smiling. The hopeful look on Juan’s face faded, replaced by utter confusion and some desperation. 

“Aren’t you-- leaving?”

Ernesto raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“I-- it would be best for us both.”

“Oh?”

“As a matter of… of safety. Your safety,” he added quickly, and looked down. His voice was quieter, weaker; his shame evident, plus something else that was a lot like fear. 

Ernesto’s smile faded; it wasn’t much fun, all of a sudden. “I think I’m perfectly safe, Juan.”

“You are not. I am... grateful that you have told no one of my sins. But I fear you don’t quite grasp-- I desire you, and the devil is in me,” he choked out, blinking back tears. “I heard things in the seminary - I heard confessions in my journeys - such heinous crimes on unwilling victims. I am terrified of what it would make me do if I drop my guard for only one moment.”

Well, now it was... no fun at all. Ernesto almost pointed out that Juan couldn't overpower him if he tried with all his might, but he paused, knowing full well that was… not the real issue.

Don't think about the barracks, he told himself. Don't think about the barracks. Don't think-- ah, too late for that, wasn't it? He couldn't not think about the barracks, about what men who live and breathe war will do once the lights are off and they're so far away from everyone they care about. Anything for some relief, anything not to think for only a few minutes. A toss of the coin and maybe you were lucky - if not, you had to grin and bear and hope to be the lucky one next time.

Pray to be the lucky one next time because ah, it could hurt.

"... You wouldn't," Ernesto found himself saying; his voice sounded distant to his own ears. Juan seemed too lost on his anguish to notice.

"You are kind, but naive. You don't know that. The Devil--"

"Forget the devil, never met him. I know you. You would never."

Juan blinked, taken aback. Some tears fell down his cheeks; his lips were pulled in a tight line, but oh, there was just a hint of hope that maybe that odd priest might be right. Ernesto could see it for a moment before it was squashed and the gringo spoke again. “The things I’ve heard-”

“I have seen what you have only heard of,” Ernesto cut him off, without thinking. It wasn’t a smart thing to say, for a man who wished to leave his past unknown, but it only occurred to him after it left his lips and ah, it was late. He cleared his throat and straightened himself, staring back at Juan, whose eyes were suddenly wide, mouth slightly agape.

“I have met men like that, Juan,” he said. Somewhere in the back of his mind, there were screams of women. Men were not the only ones who had reason to fear soldiers when they came swarming, after all; officials turned a blind eye, and… and so did he. What else could he do? Confront them and risk being shot dead? He wanted to survive that war, and surviving is easier when you mind your own business.

Nevermind that now, in Santa Cecilia, he had ended up making everybody’s business his own. 

“You have?” Juan asked, his voice barely audible, like old paper.

"Sí.”

“When-- where…?”

The truth - the army - was not an option. “Seminary,” Ernesto said instead, causing Padre Juan to pale.

“Were you… were you hurt?”

“... That doesn’t matter,” he said, voice dry enough to discourage further questions. “I’m not naive as you believe. I have seen more than you think."

Juan swallowed. "Then you should know how… how dangerous those like me--" 

"None of them was like you. You would never," Ernesto cut him off, with the certainty of a man who's stating the tenets of the universe. Juan… stared, hope a little more plain on his face now. Ah, that was… sad. Just plain sad. 

"You... truly think what you're saying?"

"I do."

Juan blinked again, and more tears spilled out. This time he acknowledged them, and reached up to wipe his eyes. "Ah, I-- my apologies. I just… that is not… do I not disgust you?"

“... No.”

"I harbor an unholy desire for you."

"Well, that's rather flattering."

There was a choked-back noise that was almost, almost a laugh. Juan wiped his face again, smiling faintly, and he even managed to chide him. "Heh. Pride."

"None of us is free of sin, no?" Ernesto grinned a little. The faintest smile curled Juan's lips, but ah, it was so bitter.

"My father feared I would taint my younger brother, when he cast me out. I never would have, I couldn't even imagine, but… it haunted my dreams, the idea that I would turn into-- that-- if I failed to rid myself of this sickness."

“That was never going to happen.”

“... That’s what my mentor said. Father Joseph - he was kind, too kind, he called me son and I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t listen to him. I was so sure-- what my father said, and the letter...”

Ah, right. The letter - Sofía had mentioned that, but of course Ernesto had to pretend not knowing what he was talking about. “A letter?”

“Yes. I wrote to my family when I was about to take my vows - I told them I had converted, that I planned to remain celibate and dedicate my life to God. I hoped for their blessing. But my father wrote back to tell me to never contact them again. And so I didn’t. They told my siblings I was dead.” A pause, then a sigh. “Michael was so young, I don’t know if he even remembers me. I don’t even know if they’re all still alive. It’s been so long.”

Ernesto paused to think of his own parents, back in his hometown in the middle of assfuck nowhere. He hadn’t seen them since he’d been drafted; he had no idea how they were faring. Not a huge loss when it came to his father, but… he would have liked to have some news of his mother. “I see.”

“I hoped that if I could make a name for myself… become someone important, perhaps even a Bishop, then maybe they’d hear about me. Maybe they’d…”

“Want you back.”

A sniffle, and Juan simply nodded, shutting his eyes. “I told you and… and myself that I was here to do God’s work here in Mexico. I do hope I have done good, but what I really wanted was to leave a mark. So that I could become someone my family could be proud of again, and… and go home. I could go back, to visit - they could tell my siblings that I was disowned for converting to Catholicism, but that all was forgiven.”

“... I see.”

Juan stayed silent a moment, then finally looked up. He looked immensely sad, but the tears were gone. “That’s never going to happen, is it? No matter what I do, I can never go home.”

"Well… it's their loss.” Ernesto reached over to pat his bare shoulder, noticing all too well the small but sharp intake of breath at the touch. “We’ve got you now. You can stay here.”

“I… I truly can’t.”

“Why not? No offense, but I think you’re going to stay a maricón regardless of where you are.”

He half-expected fury at the statement, but no such thing happened. Juan just blushed furiously. 

“You know why I shouldn’t be in your presence, Father Ernest. This is still a-- a sin, something I need to cure. Or if Father Joseph was right, then… then it is a cross I must bear. But I should avoid all temptation. I will leave as soon as I can travel.”

Ah, damn, and there he’d hoped he could convince him to stay that easily. Holding back a sigh, Ernesto raised an eyebrow. “Am I that tempting?” he asked. Maybe he could, after all, use that to make him stay in Santa Cecilia. 

Padre Juan’s blush grew redder. “W-well, I-- I--”

“The suggestion to help is still up,” Ernesto pointed out, and Juan suddenly choked.

“F-father Ernest!” He stammered, eyes wide as saucers. “I could never-- you should never-- that suggestion was outlandish even when you thought it was Gustav I lusted after, but yourself-- surely you jest!”

“I am perfectly serious.”

“It is a sin, Father Ernest!”

“No worries, I got everything covered.”

“What?”

“Once the deed is done, I can absolve you and you can absolve me. Easy.”

“That’s… not how it works.”

“Oh, come on. That is exactly how it works.”

“W--well, regardless, I...I…”

Ernesto shrugged, leaning back against the seat. “It might turn out you despise it,” he said, knowing full well that was impossible as long as he was involved - no matter what Sofía said. “And in that case, the urge might be gone for good.”

Juan swallowed, barely daring to look up. “And if I, God help me-- if I enjoy it?”

“Then you’ll at least know something about yourself. And I’ll still absolve you,” Ernesto added quickly. Hell, maybe he’d pushed too far, maybe it was too early to bring up that suggestion again. He braced himself for refusal, trying to think up of more rebuttals… but Padre Juan just fell quiet, and lowered his gaze again. When he spoke again, it was in a whisper as he stared at the pillow.

“I… need time to think,” he managed. Ernesto - who counted the fact he had not ran off screaming a success - supposed it was the closest to a ‘yes’ he could get out of him at the moment, and mentally patted himself on the back. 

Not that he was that eager to do this, because Juan would probably turn out to be a pain in the ass in bed and for all the wrong reasons, but with some persuasion he could just be able to convince him to stay and not wander across Mexico, telling all the wrong people about one Padre Ernesto from Santa Cecilia. And by the wrong people, he meant specifically the Archdiocese.

And besides, he did sleep better with someone sharing his bed.

“Of course. No pressure.” Ernesto said lightly, and stood. “Might want to eat your stew before it goes cold-- er. Colder.”

“Ah. Of course.” John moved as though to sit up, but he paused, clearly uncomfortable. Ernesto took it as his cue to leave.

He suspected that was about as far as he could push it in one go.

***

“WE CAN’T WITHSTAND ANOTHER ASSAULT! WE’RE SPREAD TOO THIN!”

“Let’s get back in the Academy! We can barricade in!”

“Where the hell is Maass?”

“Fucked off to Tejería with his soldiers!”

“Not all of us!”

“Great, so there’s what, fifty of you left?” 

The cadet’s laugh, a mixture of horrible amusement and just plain horror, was barely audible through the sound of cannon fire, but still enough to make Santiago’s blood boil. He could have gone to Tejería with Maass and most of his comrades, away from the fight and keeping his own ass safe, but he’d chosen not to - how much was it was desire to help and how much a thirst for blood was hard to tell - and that was the thanks he got?

“Be thankful we stayed behind then, cabrón!” he snapped, grip on his rifle tightening. 

“Stop arguing-- Chago, for fuck’s sake, stop arguing and keep shooting!” Nando screamed somewhere on his left. On his right a man - a civilian who’d probably never used a gun before that day - was struck by something and fell back, blood splattering across the ruins of what had been a house until minutes ago. Everything around him was gunfire, screams, dust. 

“Pier Four is lost!” someone was screaming. “It’s crawling with gringos!”

“Fall back! Fall back! In the Academy! We can shoot them from above-- José! Come here!”

“I’ll stay here, I’ll use the machine gun! You go in! I’ll cut them down!”

Nando reloaded his rifle, lips pressed together in a thin line. “We stay outside, too?”

“We stay outside. Let’s move someplace high up, we’ll do better shooting from a distance. The muchacho with the machine gun has better chances here, ” Santiago confirmed, wiping the dust off his brow. Nando groaned, and followed him in a side street. 

“It’s not looking good.”

“We’re fucked. But we can take as many as we can down with us.”

A sigh. “I don’t know what else I expected from you,” Nando muttered, and gave a slightly unhinged laugh. “I’m almost out of ammunition, too. Guess I can use it this thing as a club.”

“And be shot dead before you can approach a single gringo?” Santiago reloaded his own rifle, and lifted it up. It was hard to see a thing; dust covered the sun, it covered them, it covered everything. “Once we’re out, we’ll fall back towards the deposits and see what we can find. Don’t waste bullets. Only shoot if you can see them clearly.”

And it worked, for a time: the few cadets left and civilians were a lot more helpful shooting while barricaded inside, especially with the enemy stupidly advancing in formation… to be met by heavy machine gun fire. The young man manning it - Commodore Azueta’s own son, Santiago would know later - was brave almost to the point of insanity, and kept firing and firing despite being hit several times… but he eventually collapsed, and had to be taken away. 

And then came the heavy artillery, again. It was aimed at the Naval Academy. It hit the building they were on first. With a deafening noise Santiago would never forget.

“Mierd--”

“Move move move move!”

Half the building collapsed immediately, in a sea of dust and debris, the roar of the cannons barely covering the screams. Santiago fell, hit something and rolled in the remains of a broken-down wall, and came to a rest on his stomach. He lifted his head, coughing up dust. His ears rang, his side hurt from hitting something hard, and he had to blink several times before he could see a thing. A few feet before his face, there was an arm. Only an arm, the rest of the man buried in rubble, but what Santiago’s eyes paused on - all he could see - was the watch.

He knew that watch, he’d watched Nando win it at a card game. 

“Nando?” He coughed again, and threw his rifle aside. Around him it was chaos, but he barely heard it. Gringos could be coming gun in hand, and he wouldn’t have known: he focused on digging through the debris, trying to pull out his friend - the only friend he had left, now.

Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead.

But of course he was dead. Santiago knew Nando was gone before he even saw the faraway look in his eyes and the caved-in skull, the blood coming out in rivulets from his head and nose and mouth to mix with the dust. He felt it in the heaviness of his limbs, the complete limpness as he pulled him out from beneath the debris and lifted him in his arms. 

He had done the same for Alberto when he’d found him, that day in the desert. But Beto had been stiff, and what blood he had left in his body had set; he barely bled at all anymore, lying face down in red sand. But Nando was still warm; he still bled, turning Santiago’s uniform red.

When he’d found Beto, Nando had been there. Telling him to let go of the body, helping him up, holding him up when Santiago’s knees threatened to give in. Now, there was nobody standing by him. Nobody to help him up. 

He had to get up on his own, and he did. He leaned Nando down, stood slowly, and walked away through the dust and the debris and the screaming, trapped men. Somewhere in the distance, there was an explosion he barely reacted to. His ears still rang, his gait uneven, his mind a blur. What snapped him out of it was the outline of a man running through the dust, towards him. Santiago raised his rifle without thought, as practiced countless times, and the man threw up his arms with a cry.

“Don’t shoot! I’m a civilian, I live here! Don’t shoot!” he cried out, almost sobbing. He stepped closer, hands raised; he was covered in dust, blood on his face his tears couldn’t manage to wash off. Not an inch of his skin was visible and his Spanish was perfect, but his accent gave him away - he was American, one of those who’d made themselves a life in Veracruz, who called it home. 

Do rats call the house they infest their home, too?

“Please, help me,” the man choked out, stepping closer still. “My-- the building was hit-- my family is trapped, please--”

Santiago pulled the trigger, and the man’s face exploded into a fine mist of blood, brain matter and bone. He fell back with a thud Santiago did not hear: he was already turning his back to the body, reloading the rifle, looking through the dust for more enemies to appear. Soldiers or not, it made no matter now. They were enemies. 

With Alberto’s death, he had one man to blame; one man he’d hunt down and kill someday, somehow. But for Nando, there was no individual to blame - so he blamed them all. Invaders, every one - who did they think they were? What right did they have to intrude in their war, to kill the only friend he had left as easily as you’d swat a fly?

He’s started out that war thinking he had something to defend. Now he had nothing left. 

Traitors and invaders. They have no mercy. They deserve no mercy. 

Santiago Hernández narrowed his eyes, lifted his rifle, and kept on fighting.

***

News of the occupation of Veracruz were no longer that new by the time they reached Santa Cecilia. With no telegraph line yet, they mostly relied on letters - and they travelled slowly - or occasional visitors for most news from the outside world. The visitor in question was a travelling leatherworker little cart from San Luz to offer his services and, most of all, the stunning news that American forces had attacked and occupied Veracruz.

The man, who was a mediocre leatherworker at best, had probably never received so much attention at once; within an hour of arriving, he was in the middle of the plaza, surrounded by people who had all but forgotten the market stalls around them… merchants included.

“Wait, what?”

“What do you mean, Americans? What do they have to do with… with anything?”

“So Veracruz is lost?”

“It is. They attacked on Tuesday. I heard that by Friday, all fighting had ceased. The gringos have occupied it."

“... What, the entire State?”

“No, idiota, only the harbor.”

“Haven’t they had enough of our land? Wasn’t taking the north enough for them?”

There was a lot of talking, a lot of speculation, and Miguel could barely understand a lot of it. Most of all, he couldn’t understand why Americans had suddenly decided to invade one of their harbors. But he wanted to know, so he’d done what seemed the most logical thing to do: ask the only American he knew. 

It occurred to him just a moment too late, after knocking and then stepping in, that he wasn’t supposed to see or know anything about the wounds on his back. Thankfully, he didn’t have to pretend to be seeing them for the first time: at the wounds must have mostly healed, because while he rested still on his stomach, reading the Bible, Padre Juan did have a blanket on him.

He smiled when he saw Miguel walking in. “Oh, Miguel. It’s nice to see you again.”

Miguel managed to smile back, like he didn’t know what his back looked like under that blanket, like he didn’t know he had done that to himself for some reason he couldn’t begin to imagine. “You look better,” he said.

“... I do feel remarkably better.” Padre Juan closed the Bible, and put it down on the nightstand. “Sister Sophie told me you asked about me. It was very thoughtful of you. I do appreciate it,” he said, and he sounded so sincere Miguel felt rather bad for him. It occurred to him that he was probably the loneliest man he’d ever met. “She didn’t quite keep me up to date with the latest in town, however. How are things going? How do you like Héctor’s Latin class--”

“Americans attacked Veracruz,” Miguel said, and Padre Juan fell silent, staring at him like he’d just spoken in a foreign language to him. Well, technically he was, but… like he’d just spoken in a foreign language he didn’t understand all that well. 

“The city with the harbor, Veracruz,” he repeated, hoping he could give him some insight to the actions of his country. “Americans took it. They attacked last Tuesday. Why did they do that?”

Padre Juan stared at him for a few more moments, seemingly stunned. Finally, he shook his head. “I am afraid I have no clue, Miguel,” he said slowly, and immediately sat up, blanket around him. “... I need to talk to Father Ernest,” he added. Miguel chose not to point out that they did, by the way, have a mayor.

Everyone he always turned to the priest first, anyway.

***

“This could be a good thing--”

“It’s never a good thing!”

“He’s right,” Ernesto spoke up, causing the other three to pause in their discussion and look at him. “Huerta counted a lot on that harbor to receive supplies. And now that route is gone.” 

“Are we supposed to believe they did it out of the goodness of their heart? To help?” Sofía asked, sounding all the world like she was asking him if he really believed El Sombrerón was real, or that size did not matter.

He shrugged. “Of course not. But however you look at it, this is a blow to Federales. Veracruz was of huge strategic importance. And the enemy of my enemy… you know.”

He had… a point, Imelda had to concede. Still, it all felt wrong. “Only because they’re accidentally useful for once, it doesn’t mean we have to appreciate another country occupying our land. And God knows if they even are going to leave once this is all over.”

“That makes two of us,” Ernesto conceded. “Dealing with one gringo is enough of a hassle. I’d sooner stick my hand in a wasp nest than deal with more, believe me.”

Sofía shrugged. “I doubt you’re the only ones to think that way. I expect any gringo currently in Mexico is going to have a much harder life from here on. Huerta won’t take it well. Nor us. Let’s be honest, no one is happy.”

“But there could be a silver lining to this, if it weakens Huerta,” Héctor said, and sighed. “I guess we can only hope that’s worth the trouble, at least.”

“We can hope, I guess. Hey, what about our resident gringo? What are the odds someone is going to take it out on him?”

Imelda, Héctor and Ernesto exchanged a glance. “... They wouldn’t,” Héctor finally said, sounding nowhere as certain as he wished to. “He’s a priest, after all. People respect priests.”

Ernesto raised an eyebrow, glancing towards Imelda and Sofía. “With how I’ve been treated, I beg to diff-- ow!”

“You don’t count,” Imelda informed him, digging her heel into Ernesto’s foot another moment for good measure before pulling back, ignoring his complaints. Within moments, he would be very grateful she hadn’t said anything more specific aloud. “Someone should tell him what his countrymen have done. Just so he knows it’s in his best interest not to be too annoying.”

“Duly noted,” a very familiar, rather dry voice rang out. All three of them turned to the door to see Juan, of course, wearing the cassock again although the collar was missing. His hair was still ruffled from the pillow. 

Sofía raised an eyebrow. “That’s not a promising start.”

“A promising start for what?”

“Being less annoying.”

An unimpressed look, and Padre Juan’s gaze turned Héctor and Ernesto. It was funny how he was still under the delusion it was them to take all decisions. It was annoying, but Imelda knew she had to pick her battles, and at the moment that wasn’t one she had time to pick. 

“I believe you should try command more respect in the sisters, Father Ernest,” he said. “I don’t think they show you the reverence a parish priest deserves.”

… Come to think of it, what she was going to pick was an empty bottle to smash over his head. Her hand moved towards it, only for Sofía to grasp her wrist. She glanced at her sideways. 

I hate him, she tried to communicate through her eyes alone.

Who doesn’t, Sofía somehow managed to respond without a single word. 

Across the table, Ernesto was clearing his throat. “Ah-- well-- emotions are running high. I don’t know if you heard the news, but--”

“I have,” Padre Juan replied, his voice quiet again. “I promise you, I… I knew nothing of it.”

“None of us is so stupid to think an obscure priest would be informed on the decisions of his country’s government,” Imelda said, her voice cold as frost. She expected a retort, but the gringo just seemed to flinch at the remark, eyes still on Ernesto - whose expression became unreadable for a few moments before he spoke. 

“What Ime-- Sister Gisela means is, we know you had nothing to do with this.”

“We’ll make sure that’s clear to everyone,” Héctor added quickly. Padre Juan gave a weak smile, but it did not reach his eyes. 

“I have no intention to cause trouble. I did plan on leaving once I was better, so--”

“Too dangerous,” Ernesto shut him down quickly, causing Imelda to raise an eyebrow. He was a good actor, she had to give him that; if she didn’t know he had less than selfless reasons to keep the gringo in Santa Cecilia for the foreseeable future, she might have even believed he was concerned for his safety. It made her feel… slightly less foolish for falling for his priestly act

She didn’t notice how Sofía, sitting at her right, was very obviously biting the inside of her cheek in an attempt at keeping her expression neutral. Neither did Padre Juan who, unaware of it all, tried to argue. “I am no stranger to the dangers of travel. If God wills it, I will be safe.”

Ah, if not for the fact he might end up exposing Ernesto, Imelda might have wholeheartedly and loudly agreed, encouraging to leave Santa Cecilia as soon as possible. She really, really hoped the idiota currently posing as their parish priest knew and appreciated how much of an effort it took her to keep quiet.

“This is out of God’s hands,” Ernesto muttered, unaware of her thoughts. To his credit, the gringo flinched but did not launch into a full lecture on why what he’d just said was sacrilegious. He listened, eyes wide, as Ernesto went on. “Things are going to get more complicated for Americans in Mexico. Huerta will be pissed because they took an important harbor from his grasp, so you’ll have to watch out for Federales. And everyone will just be pissed because… well, come on. You-- they invaded us. We like it better when the States don’t do that.”

Padre Juan hesitated, gaze shifting from Ernesto to Héctor, who smiled. “We’d love you to stay,” he said, purposely avoiding to look over at Imelda and Sofía, who had raised an eyebrow each in perfect synchronicity. “People know you here. You’ll be safe.”

“And besides, we didn’t go through all this trouble to bring you back from the brink to watch you head out and commit suicide,” Sofía added, a seraphic smile on her face. Imelda held back a smile. Ernesto gave her an exasperated look. 

“We might still need your help,” he spoke up quickly. “If this, uh, development makes it harder for resources to come from the States, we will need you to put in a good word for us.”

That seemed to hit a chord, and after a long moment Padre Juan gave a nod that was more of a bow of his head. “... I understand. Thank you. I will stay, if… if you want me to.”

As Imelda bit her tongue to hold back a retort, Ernesto smiled at him. When he spoke, his voice sounded startlingly sincere. “We do,” he said quietly. “I do.”

Juan was very quick to mumble his thanks and leave the room - giving Imelda no time to notice the sudden redness spreading on that pale, tired face.

***

Twenty-one dead. Twenty-two, if you counted the idiota who drowned while trying to get on land. 

Twenty-two dead American soldiers, and they still couldn’t put a number to the Mexicans who had died in the attack. Some said two hundred, some said three hundred; it was hard to tell if civilians were included in the count, because they had taken up arms, too. 

Soldiers probably accounted for at least half of the total. One-hundred and fifty at the very least. One-hundred and fifty like Nando, and the gringos had only lost twenty-two. And he had perhaps killed… one or two. Or maybe he had only wounded them, impossible to know. The only man he knew for sure had died was the civilian who’d had the galls to turn to him for help.

Not enough to avenge Nando. Not nearly enough, but oh had he tried.

They outgunned us. If not, we would have killed them one by one. Have they already counted Nando among the dead? Have they found him? Has he already been buried? He should be buried. He deserves it. I need to write to his family. If only I could tell them I have avenged him...

Resting on his back on a bed, his right leg ablaze with pain, Santiago shut his eyes not to see the cracked ceiling above. Somewhere on his left, a young man whined about not feeling his legs anymore. Somewhere on his right, a woman was talking. 

“... Commodore Azueta’s boy was so brave. The American admiral with that funny name wanted to visit, but he said, ‘if the American enters my house, I will either kill him or me’. Doctor Xicoy said-”

“Good answer,” Santiago rasped, staring at the ceiling. It caused the nurses fall silent, turning to him. He barely noticed them. “Shame he passed up the chance to actually do it.”

“Oh, you’re awake.” One of the women walked up to his bed, tall and somewhat imposing. She looked tired, but managed a smile. “We took the bullet out of your leg. Nothing broke. You’ll walk again and probably won’t even limp. Now we only need to keep your wound clean, and then we’ll send you home.”

Wait-- what? “Home? I can’t go home. I’m in the army.”

“You don’t have to. You fought bravely and were wounded. You earned an honorable discharge.”

No, no, no, no, no. “I have to rejoin my battalion. The 19th Infantry. I have--”

“They’ll have been moved somewhere else by the time you recover, and--”

“Then I’ll join another,” Santiago snapped, making an effort to sit up and causing her to recoil. “I am not done with this war.”

She stared at him a few moments, stunned, then slowly her expression turned bitter. “You mean this war is not done with you.”

“I don’t care how you put it. I’ll recover and return to duty. I’ll join another battalion - any battalion,” Santiago snapped, and turned towards the wall. He kept silent for the rest of the evening, gaze fixed on a corner where a few uniforms had been thrown, drenched with blood. His own was among them, probably, stained with Nando’s blood as well as his. 

There was barely any blood on Beto’s. The sand soaked up it all.

I never avenged him. I couldn’t avenge Nando. What am I still alive for?

Ah, but he could still do something, couldn’t he? He had one man only to blame for Beto’s death. One target only, and the last thing he knew was that he’d gone south, towards Oaxaca. So, once his leg had healed, he’d join any battalion heading there. He’d find him, make him pay. He’d see his blood run down his hands and all light go out of his eyes, he thought, and the idea was so soothing. 

When the nurse returned to check on him Santiago was asleep, a serene smile on his lips.

***

“So. How is the seduction plan going?”

“There is no seduction plan and I’d really appreciated if you stopped blabbing about it where anybody walking in would hear you. We only talked. I made an offer. Up to him whether to take it or not. He’s staying in Santa Cecilia, anyway, so--”

“He was turning red when you said you want him to stay here yesterday.”

“So what? We know it’s me he wants. Unsurprisingly.”

“... You thought it was Héctor.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“You thought it was Gustavo, too.”

“That was, er… last week. He turned out to have better taste than I anticipated, is all.”

“Well. I guess he could have made worse choices.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. But really--” A knock at the door of the sacristy, and Sofía fell into blessed, blessed silence. Ernesto breathed out a sigh of relief, and turned to the door. 

“Come in!” he called out. The door opened, and… well, speak of the gringo. 

“Father Ernest - Sister Sophie,” John Johnson said, his voice quiet, and stepped in. He was almost back to normal, if… quieter than ever before. “I was wondering if I could have a word with you, Father,” he added, eyes resting on just about… anything across the room except them. Which was a good thing, really, because Sofía did precisely nothing to hide the grin that spread across her face. Not until Ernesto elbowed her, anyway. She recoiled. 

“Oh! Of course! I was just leaving,” she exclaimed, sounding much too chipper, and walked past Padre Juan to the door. She turned on the doorway, with the expression of someone who is about to eavesdrop on every single word, and made a rather explicitly gesture from behind the gringo’s back. Ernesto held back from rolling his eyes.

“Close the door behind you. Gracias,” he droned instead. As the door shut - undoubtedly with her ear pressed on the other side - Ernesto turned back to Juan with a smile. “Can I help you?”

Padre Juan seemed to… well, shrink. He kept staring at the floor now, hands folded anxiously in front of himself, face quickly going from white to increasingly bright pink. “I have… thought about what you suggested. Long and hard. If you’re… still willing… if you’re certain…”

Ernesto bit the inside of his cheek not to make a ‘long and hard’ joke, laugh, or a combination of both. Through a supreme effort of will, he kept his expression neutral. He could easily imagine Sofía on the other side of the door, stuffing a fist in her mouth to keep quiet. “I am,” he said.

Padre Juan swallowed, his skin now red. Ernesto suspected it would feel burning hot to the touch. “I have… fought my urges for my entire life. I hadn’t felt a thing for a long time, I thought-- I thought I was rid of it. Until I came here and… and…” he swallowed again, and finally dared to peer up at his face. “Is it possible I will-- if I try-- hate it, and never long for it again?”

Well, now that would be a blow to his pride. Still, he wasn’t bothered. “... It is. You never know.”

“I might-- not hate it-- but then I’d know, I suppose--” he paused, and drew in a long breath. “You’d absolve me. And I’d absolve you. Right?”

“... Yes.” Not that Ernesto’s absolutions meant anything, but he didn’t need to know that. “I will.”

A sharp intake of breath, and Padre Juan gave him a quick nod before staring back at the ground, uncharacteristically silent. He hardly spoke to anyone for the rest of the evening. 

And when Ernesto came to his room that night, he let him in without a word.

***

In case you're wondering how the night goes, here you go. Mind the rating.

***

[Back to Part 13]

[On to Part 15]

[lesceriises]

[ 🍒 ]  — gracing the tags with my presence before i go work on replies. hi. i’m elle. i’m mostly here for mxf shipping tbh, but i love platonic/family plots too. i have adhd which means i like jumping into things and figuring out what works and doesn’t without beating around the bush. send me memes!! send me ideas!! i love brainstorming. i have a bunch of muses right here & you can check out my open starters here. 

if you’re curious about what fcs i like + what types of plots i’m interested in, click the read more.

come write with me!!!

🍒  FCS I WANT TO WRITE AGAINST 🍒 

alfonso herrera, alvaro rico, chris pine, dacre montgomery, david giuntoli, edgar ramírez, jake gyllenhaal, kit harington, luke pasqualino, michiel huisman, oliver jackson-cohen, oscar isaac, ryan guzman, santiago cabrera, sean tealea, simon baker, tom ellis, tommy martinez, tyler hoechlin, zane holt, alicia vikander, alycia debnam carey, eleanor tomlinson, gugu mbatha-raw, imogen poots, johanna braddy, lupita nyong'o, margot robbie, oona chaplin, poppy drayton, ruth negga, saoirse ronan, shelley hennig, shannon purser, zendaya, zoey deutch.

🍒 PLOTS I’M INTERESTED IN: GENERAL VIEW 🍒

drama, over-the-top drama, cheesy drama, angst, romance, manipulation, lying, cheating, pregnancies, horror, supernatural, ghosts, historical, crime, royals, modern royals, fake relationships, unrequited feelings, bad timing. you can check a few plots i’d like to do here.

🍒 PLOTS I’M INTERESTED IN: SPECIFIC 🍒

if fandom isn’t your thing, i’m also v interested in rl / historical plots. you can find a list of those here.

CHOICES GAME APP & STORYSCAPE: plots based on: titanic, the perfect match, rules of engagement, desire & decorum, the royal romance, and the elementalists. we don’t have to play the “main” characters or follow the original storylines tho.

TITANIC/1900s: legit just... any and all dynamics lmao the list is infinite there’s so much potential. if you’re familiar with the game i’m looking for something taken from storyscape like matteo x adele dynamic (long-story short, matteo is a valet for a wealthy man and adele is someone who is being blackmailed by said wealthy man) or charlie x adele (charlie is a steward who befriends adele, helps her navigate her situation, and the two become very close - esp interested in a dynamic post-titanic too where he's trying very hard not to hold things against her but is struggling tremendously with guilt, ptsd, and his idealism) or a dynamic based on zetta x adele (zetta is famous and adele's employer, and adele is being blackmailed into ruining her engagement - but it'd have to be an mxf one because that's the only kind of romantic pairings i write).

THE HUNGER GAMES: capitol citizen x capitol citizen, mentor x mentor, victor x dead tribute’s sibling/dead tribute’s best friend, literally any other combO!! smth with spies would be great too like spy rebel working a the capitol x capitol staff.

VIDEO GAMES: plots based on until dawn!!!!!!!!! which is one of my favs tbh (there’s SO MUCH POTENTIAl but i’m particularly weak for “we had a ‘opposites attract, will they don’t they’ thing going on and smth was about to happen between us at the cabin but then my sibling/best friend vanished and everything went to shit and we haven’t spoken in a year even though we miss each other dearly”.

HARRY POTTER:  

workaholic diplomats with a fuckton of baggage and personal struggles who are really good at their jobs and always butting heads… falling in love (bonus: maybe one of them is a squib)

pureblood order member is essentially kidnapped by their own elitist family and has their memory tampered with, meaning they now believe they’ve always just been a spy for the death eaters. they’re engaged and their significant other starts to notice little things that feel odd and unusual. 

i muggleborn who started lying about her blood status and is passing as elitist pureblood who ends up getting engaged to a pureblood.  

before the first wizarding war, two purebloods get married. it wasn’t an arranged marriage and for all their differences they brought out the best in each other. their families were iffy about each other but they made it work. she remained mostly a housewife, enjoying the work and taking care of the children. things were good until the war rolled around and slowly, gradually. it became clear that his family (and he himself) were prejudiced against muggles and muggleborn. in the end they end up on opposite sides of the war, and it gets ugly.

arranged marriage between two people. he’s a widower and a grump, no one really finds him good company and on top of that his wife died in questionable circumstances (everyone thinks he did it, but it was actually his parents). his parents picked her because she seems easy to manipulate and air-headed. they never thought they would end up gradually growing very fond of each other to the point of love - they have the same humor, he helps her try not to please everyone and she helps him allowing himself to be himself - and that he’d start standing up to his family.

ANGELS / DEMONS / NOT FANDOM SPECIFIC: angel x fallen angel (please. think of all the pain and angst) or demon x redeemed demon or smth of the sort (the betrayal!!!)

X-MEN: literally too many possible combos to list and i want them all!!! the angstier/messier the better.

THE MUMMY: doesn’t have to be based on the movie, i’m going for the ~vibes~ here. we can do: explorer/archaeologist x non-explorer, explorer/archaeologist x journalist, explorer/archaeologist x doctor, explorer/archaeologist x explorer/archaeologist…. they can be any age too! even exs with children, the options are endless.

PACIFIC RIM: trainee x trainee, pilot x scientist, pilot x pilot, doctor x pilot

OUTLANDER/TIME-TRAVELLING IN GENERAL: could be intentional, accidental, to the future or the past, etc so many options!! we can mix time-travelling with other fandoms too!!

TOMB RAIDER: feel free to make suggestions but here are some ideas: (a) and (b) have a long history (platonic, romantic, siblings, idc). they’re both explorers who for the most part have been on the same side. two peas in a pod. two sides of the same coin. etc etc. while trying to put together a mystery, and trying to beat the “bad guys” to it, they realise the object they are looking for can change the past or bring the dead back to life…. this is where (b) turns against (a), who, unlike them, wants to take the object and keep it safe inside a vault.

STAR WARS: literally too many options to list but i’ll try: “jyn” x “cassian”, spy x traitor, pilot x spy doctor, former stormtrooper x spy, former stormtrooper x regular person, spy x regular person, diplomat x pilot, diplomat x former stormtrooper, idk there’s so many possible dynamics i couldn’t list them all legit anything in this universe im begging lmao!

STRANGER THINGS: so many possibilities?? could be set at any point in time too… and/or make our characters older and have them revisit things that happened to them in the past.

MARVEL/MCU: superhero x human , superhero x superhero, hero x law enforcement, a verse where heroes are “banned” (think incredibles 2)… all of these could go in so many ways?? the sky’s the limit. reminder that i don’t write canons but i don’t mind writing against them!! 

ANASTASIA: lost princess/prince x kitchen boy/girl turned con-person who is at first using them for money but ends up falling in love with them and oops turns out they are the real deal.

THE LITTLE MERMAID: mermaid x prince, mermaid x human, mermaid x pirate, “ursula” x “eric”

ALADDIN: “i pretended to be a rich prince/princess to impress the their/heiress to the throne bc i’m poor as hell and i just want to stop being poor lmao … but oh boy i’ve fallen in love…….”

FROZEN:   “hans” x “anna” or “hans” x “elsa” (i just think “hans” is a great character and there’s a lot we could do with him tbh) oc guard or commoner x “elsa” “anna” and “kristoff” but their relationship isn’t working out the dynamic between “anna” and “elsa” bc i’m a sucker for sibling dynamics we could also explore the relationship of anna and elsa’s parents!!!  

[javocjovian]

The Road So Far...

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Sarasaurussex’s Masterlist

• Bingos • Bangs • Holiday Events • Other Works • Art

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Bingos:

2019

A Supernatural Menagerie A collection of short smutty Supernatural stories! Mostly for Kink and ABO Bingo, plus a few requests. | Chapter | Title - Ship , Kink/Tag/Prompt | ʟɪɴᴋs | Ch 1 | Dress for Success - Destiel, Clothing Sharing | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 2 | Work, Work, Work - Sabriel, Rimming  | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 3 | Bondage Therapy - Wincest, Bondage | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 4 | Fully Loaded - Sabriel, Breeding Kink (non-ABO) | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 5 | Two Feet Under - Sastiel, Footfetish/Breathplay | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 6 | Blood and Flesh, Mind and Soul - Mooseley (Sam x Crowley), Coming Untouched | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 7 | Sensory Overload - Sastiel, Scent Kink | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 8 | How To Make Sammy Sleep - Wincest, Domestic Kink | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 9 | Two Veils To Hide My Face - Wincest, Scent Marking (ABO) | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 10 | Wet Dreams May Cum - Debriel, Sleeping/First Times | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 11 | Getting To Know You - Sketch (Sam x Ketch), Friends to Lovers/Face Fucking | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 12 | An Angel and Demon In Us All - Meg!Sam x Castiel | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 13 | Exorcising Those Demons - Balthazar x Rowena, Fake Relationships | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 14 | Heaven and Hell - Megstiel, Squirting | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 15 | The Trap - Destiel, sub!Dean/Sex Pollen | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 16 | Ride ‘Em Cowboy - Destiel, Sexuality Crisis | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 17 | Ramble On - Destiel, Oral | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 18 | How To Train Your Demon - Dain (Dean x Cain), Caning | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 19 | Natural Born Leader - Calthazar, Societal Role Reversal (ABO) | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 20 | Whiskey and Spice - Dean x Ketch, Tattoos/Accidental Scent Bond (ABO) | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 21 | You’re Mine - Wincest (Demon!Dean x Boyking!Sam), Teasing | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 22 | Blueberry Pie - Wincest, Restraints (ABO) | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 23 | Down Boy - Wincest, Petplay | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 24  | It’s A Farcical Life - Sabriel, Sam Wesson | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 25 | Table Manners - Wincest, Voyeurism (ABO) | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 26 | Saving Grace - Castiel/Michael/Lucifer | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 27 | First Blood - Demon!Dean x Boyking!Sam, Bloodplay (Freespace) | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 | Ch 28 | BONUS | Dress For Success with Art by Purgatory-Jar! | ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ | ᴀᴏ3 |

A Close Shave | tumblr | AO3 | Square: Orgasm Denial Ship: Michael!Dean x Sam, implied Wincest Rating: E Word Count: 5,803 Tags: Orgasm Denial, Forced Orgasm, Aphrodisiacs, Multiple Orgasms, Edging, Teasing, Denial, Oral, Anal, Bondage Summary: Michael!Dean returns to his prisoner and has some fun. Part I not necessary.

Wherever I May Roam | tumblr | AO3 | Square: Roleplay Ship: Destiel, Cockles, Dean Winchester x Misha Collins Rating: E Word Count: 11,432 Tags: Angst, Hurt, Comfort, Heartbreak, Idiots to Lovers, Relationships, Emotional Sex, Realism, Condoms and Lube, Caught in the Act, Jensen & Misha & Dean & Castiel, Jared & Sam, Rejection, Arguments, First Time sex, Happy Ending, Fluff Summary: Sam and Dean get sent to another TV Land that’s slightly different than the last. In this version, Jensen and Misha are dating. Can Dean keep it together long enough to be rescued and avoid ruining his precariously platonic relationship with Castiel? (cue Sam laughing in the background)

Show Me Your Moves - sequel in progress | tumblr | AO3 | Square Filled: Neighbors Ship: Destiel (18yo!Dean x hunter!Castiel) Rating: E Word Count: 12,436 Tags: Top Cas/Bottom Dean, technically legal, age gap, enthusiastic consent, porn with plot, hand jobs, blowjobs, rimming, anal, fun positions, coming too early, multiple orgasms, cum licking, mentions of masturbation, lots of lube usage, horny teen Dean, mentions of abusive John, angst, apologies, Castiel is bad at talking, protective lil Sam, after-care, comfort, fluff Summary: While on a hunt, Castiel the slightly-OCD hunter keeps running into a cocky, sarcastic, drop-dead gorgeous eighteen-year-old named Dean Winchester. Turns out the kid is pretty good at punching ghouls, eating all of Castiel’s food, and getting dirty ;D Also appearing:sassy teen Sam (who volunteers at an animal shelter), Ellen and Jo, and a bunch of dogs. Mentions of John, Mary, Bobby, and Castiel’s angel family. 

| SPN Kink Bingo Masterlist (ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ) | SPN ABO Bingo Masterlist (ɪɴ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴇss) |

Bangs:

2019

Catch the Wind - Wincest Big Bang 2019 | tumblr | AO3 | WBB post | Ship: Teencest, Wincest, Wincestiel (at the end) Rating: E Word Count: 21,521 Tags: Flashbacks, Timetravel, Action, Angst,  Hurt/Comort, John Winchester, OC villain, Choices, the Butterfly effect, Changing the past, Wound Care, Making out, Don’t wake dad, Guilt, Healing Sex, Threesome Warnings: Teenaged Wincest (Sam16, Dean20), canon level gore/violence, emotional parental abuse Summary:  When a rogue angel Castiel once spared begins murdering angels on the West Coast, Sam and Dean help Castiel hunt the angel down once and for all. Along the way they find themselves in a place, they stayed in as teenagers. It brings back memories of Sam’s 16th birthday when he was being hunted by a delusional friend of John’s who was determined to stop the next King of Hell. Unbeknownst to Sam, Dean, or Castiel, the past and present are inexplicably intertwined, and sparing the angel in the past has unfathomable consequences for Sam and Dean’s future. Fate, chance, and redemption must all be confronted for the trio to move on.

Lost and Found - Supernatural Trope Celebration 2019 | tumblr | AO3 | STC post | Ship: Sastiel Rating: M Word Count: 12522 Tropes: Amnesia/Memory Loss, Reverse Sex Pollen, Deathbed Confessions Warnings: Mental Heath Issues, Mention of Suicide, AKF Summary: When Sam starts acting strange, Dean’s faith in his brother comes undone, and after a bad fight causes Sam to leave the bunker for good it seems impossible they’ll ever be able to reconcile. But Castiel suspects something more is going on. He finds Sam, only to discover his worst fear: Sam is not himself, and it might be too late to save him. Castiel enlists Rowena to help solve the mystery of Sam’s condition, cure him, and reunite the Winchesters.

Red and Gold - SPN Canon Big Bang 2019 | tumblr | AO3 | CBB post | Ship: Sabriel , Crowbriel (GabrielxCrowley), Crowsabriel (SamxGabrielxCrowley), background Destiel Rating: E Wordcount: 25,906 Warnings: Dub-con Summary: Back from the dead and acting strange, Gabriel finds himself in debt to Crowley. In order to free himself he must fulfill a contract by spying on the Winchesters, who are trying to shut the Gates of Hell. But after Sam catches Gabriel spying on him in the shower (naturally), the contract is voided and Gabriel finds himself enslaved to Crowley as payment. Sam figures out Gabriel’s deal with the devil and tries to help, but ends up caught up in it himself. Eventually, Sam and Crowley discover the cause of Gabriel’s strange behavior, and the unlikely trio of heroes and villains come together to save their favorite feathered frenemy from an even greater threat.

Black Mountain Side - Team Free Will Big Bang 2019 | tumblr | AO3 | TFW post | Ship: Wincestiel, Wincest Rating: E Wordcount: 7,792 Summary: Castiel gets injured on a hunt, causing tension between himself and Dean. Sam is forced to play mediator, but even he can’t predict how the night unravels. Held up in a shack in the mountains, the trio discovers how far they’ll go for each other.

Holiday Events:

2019

Chill Me, Thrill Me: A Supernatural Halloween Story Supernatural Trope Celebration (Halloween Edition) | tumblr | AO3 | Rating: T Trope: For Halloween, I’m Going as Myself Tags: Halloween Party, Costumes, Mystery, Monsters, Hunting, minor Sam Winchester/OC, Making Out, Humor, Holidays Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester get invited to a party on Halloween night, but they have no idea what kind of tricks and treats are in store for them.

What Really Matters Galentine’s Day Fic for @mrswhozeewhatsis​ | tumblr | AO3 | Ship: Castiel x Dean x Reader Rating: E Tags: Grace Healing, BAMF Castiel, Vulnerable Dean, Protective Dean and Cas, Bunker sex, Threesome, Dean in the middle, Sub Dean, Top Castiel, Power-Bottom Reader, Humor, Fluff, Smut Summery: Dean blames himself when you get injured in a fight. Luckily, you and Castiel know just how to bring him around.

2018

A Very Supernatural Christmas Party | AO3 | Ship: Destiel, Sabriel, mild Crowlthazar Tags: Christmas Smut, Destiel Angst (with a Happy Ending), Humor, Pranks Rating: E Summery: Gabriel and Castiel need dates to Metaron’s annual Christmas party. 

Secret Santa Illustrated Fic | AO3 | Rating: G Summery: Crowley comes across a certain celebrity soul in Hell. Written for a fan.

Guess Who’s Coming to Thanksgiving Dinner | AO3 | Rating: G Summery: Sam, Dean, and the gang hit a roadblock on their way to Jody’s for Thanksgiving

Other Works:

Wet Dreams May Cum Debriel Creations Challenge @debrielcc​ | tumblr | AO3 | February Theme: First Times My Prompt: Sleep/Sleeping Ship: Debriel (Dean/Gabriel, Dean/Gabriel/Dream-Gabriel) Rating: E Tags: Somnophilia, masturbation, wet dreams, embarrassment, first time anal (Dean), hand jobs, prostate milking, wings, consensual, mild pain enjoyment, grace sex, grace bondage, induced sleep, bondage via induced sleep, soul fucking, dream control, dream sex, mind-reading, time-loop Summary: Dean has a wet dream about Gabriel, so Gabriel turns it into reality.

The Angel Who Would Be Human | AO3 | Ship: Gabrizar (Balthazar x Gabriel) Kinks: Shower Sex, Bath Sex, Blow Jobs, Sass Rating: E Summery: Balthazar becomes human for a week. Gabriel give shim a place to stay.

It’s Not Gay If You Don’t Hold Hands | AO3 | Ship: Mooseley, Destiel Kinks: So many. Crowley addicted to Sam’s blood, BDSM, Bondage, Shibari Rope, Cock Cages, Destiel Angst, Wing Kink Rating: E Summery: Set in an alternate universe following the conclusion of Season 9, Sam finds Crowley before he joins up with a newly awakened demon!Dean, and Castiel finds Dean before he can run off on his own.  Note: This is my most popular SPN Fic from a few years ago, it’s an unfinished RP

Supernatural x Marvel Mini Bang | AO3 | Rating: T Summery: Mobster AU Crossover featuring the Family Business (Supernatural), the Avengers Assembly (the Avengers/Spiderman), and the L.A. Guardians (Guardians of the Galaxy). Also, Deadpool shows up uninvited.

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Art:

Withheld - DeanCas Reverse Bang Art Withheld - DeanCas Reverse Bang Master Post

I’ll Always Be There - Wincest Reverse Art I’ll Always Be There - Wincest Reverse Master Post

Snowbound - Wincest Reverse Art Snowbound - Wincest Reverse Master Post

The Good, the Bad and the Fluffy - Wincest Reverse Art The Good, the Bad and the Fluffy - Wincest Reverse Master Post

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[deadly-dearie-moved]

updated faq and taglist

question: who or what are you? answer: i’m celia ernestine. some people call me ernie. i have no favored pronouns, you may refer to me as whatever you like, but i generally go by female/she/her. i run this multimuse roleplay blog, and all my muses are also my c'kins/c'links.

question: what’s a c'kin/c'link? answer: coping kin, or coping link, c'kin/c'link for short, are kins used to cope with mental illnesses or personality disorders.

question: what’s the purpose of this blog? answer: for me to have fun, find peace, cope with my illness and relax. i post the things i love and find cute. sometimes i post nsfw and pretty intense themes too, so i’d rather have you be at least 16 years old. but who am i to tell you anything, i’m not your mum.

question: you mentioned you use this blog to ‘cope with your illness’. what illness? answer: i have borderline personality disorder, impulsive type, and antisocial personality disorder, covetous type. please look it up when you’re interested in what it is.

question: is there something i should avoid when getting it contact with you? answer: please read my rules before interacting. please use trigger warnings for graphic descriptions or pictures. if we never talked before and i don’t reply within two days, i’m probably not around, please be a bit more patient. if i’ve already given you a heads up before, or just don’t feel comfortable with you or your muse(s) to the point i don’t want to interact anymore, i most likely deleted your message. re-sending a message or nudging me to reply won’t make me reply faster, it will only piss me off, and when i’m pissed off, there is a good chance that i will maybe not talk to you for even longer, so please just be patient and wait until i reply. you can ask me if the message even arrived, though, because sometimes it just gets lost on the way. also, please keep your hate, muse bullying and spamming to yourselves; life is hard enough without anyone getting on my nerves anyway.

question: do i need to be afraid of you because of your kins and illness? answer: not at all, darling. despite the personality disorders, my kins/muses are all pretty chill. xibalba might be a bit uncomfortable sometimes because he kind of gives me a holier-than-thou attitude and makes me feel divine, but it’s also a pretty fun shift, with lots of dark humor, sarcasm and innuendos. same with lucifer, actually, but he’s a bit more pained and perverted. the ernesto shift is the shift i experience the most, it’s the most similar to my actual personality. he’s a funny guy, very talkative and outgoing and protective most of the time, but he can also have his… phases. tharja shifts are very uncomfortable, i mostly get them when i’m very angry or very sad; she hates people, she hates existence itself and wishes to destroy everything and everyone. luckily, it passes rather quickly. the shift i experience the least often is camilla, but she’s very warm and loving, a soft and kind soul most of the time.

question: what else is there to know about you? answer: i can be a tad childish sometimes and like to give myself and others cutesy nicknames, please bare with me. i use endearing pronouns and heart emojis a lot. i looove getting to know people, so don’t be shy, you can talk to be about anything you want and i’ll be sure to answer when i can!

tag list

xibalba - posts about xibalba.

ernesto - posts about ernesto de la cruz.

camilla - posts about princess camilla of nohr.

tharja - posts about tharja.

lucifer - posts about lucifer.

the book of life/tbol - posts about the book of life in general.

coco - posts about coco in general.

fire emblem fates/conquest/birthright - posts about fire emblem fates in general.

fire emblem awakening - posts about fire emblem awakening in general.

lucifer series - posts about the lucifer series in general.

nsfw ...ish - posts that contain slight nsfw.

nsfw - posts that contain nudity or sexual themes.

yandere/yande.re/obsessive/possessive - posts that contain unhealthily obsessive or possessive themes.

mi amor - posts about la muerte.

beloved - posts about héctor rivera.

dearest - posts about benny.

sweetie - posts about ignatius.

wifey - posts about sartana of the dead.

curse magnet - posts about virion.

angel - posts about chloe decker.

charlotte - posts about charlotte de la cruz (adopted daughter/oc).

machete - posts about machete, son of sartana (adopted son).

django - posts about django, son of machete (adopted grandson).

camila - posts about camila, wife of machete (adopted daughter-in-law/oc).

gravepainters - muse shipping, xibalba/la muerte.

ernector - muse shipping, ernesto/héctor.

benilla - muse shipping, benny/camilla.

virja - muse shipping, virion/tharja.

sarnesto - muse shipping, ernesto/sartana.

deckerstar - muse shipping, lucifer/chloe.

bpd/actuallybpd/beingbpd/tw bpd - posts about borderline personality disorder. aspd/actuallyaspd/beingaspd/tw aspd - posts about antisocial personality disorder.

ask/answered/unanswered - answered or unanswered asks (duh).

ask/rp/not rp/rp related - whether an ask is an rp ask, rp related or not (duhh).

reply/continued - continued rp by reblog.

headcanon/my post/mine - i think you can imagine what this means.

any other tags are mostly self explanatory.

sucess doesn’t come for free (positivity) - cute, friendly or helpful ernesto answers.

el mundo es mi familia (family) - ernesto’s family members

he’s a threat (negativity) - sad, triggering or hurtful ernesto answers.

seize your moment (nsfw) - nsfw ernesto answers.

much needed advice - advice from ernesto.

you’re so cute (positivity) - cute, friendly or helpful camilla answers.

sorry darling (negativity) - sad, triggering or hurtful ernesto answers.

no matter where you are i’ll be there (family) - xibalba’s family members. how about a wager? (positivity) - cute, friendly or helpful xibalba answers. you cheated - again! (negativity) - sad, triggering or hurtful xibalba answers.

will keep this list updated.

[lesceriises]

hello tags here i am gracing you with my presence once again. bellow are a bunch of plots i’d love to have in my life. these are all fandom-centered based on games (such as until dawn), app games (choices, storyscape), movies/books (thg, hp, x-men, the mummy, etc), and animated movies (like disney). if you’re interested in writing any of the bellow, let me know so we can get plotting (you can like this post and i’ll find you)!! i only ask that you read my rules first.

if fandom isn’t your thing, i’m also v interested in rl / historical plots. you can find a list of those here.

CHOICES GAME APP & STORYSCAPE: plots based on: titanic, the perfect match, rules of engagement, desire & decorum, the royal romance, and the elementalists. we don't have to play the "main" characters or follow the original storylines tho.

TITANIC: i'm looking for something a lil more complex than a rose x jack dynamic though. if you're familiar with the game i'm looking for something like matteo x adele from storyscape (long-story short, matteo is a valet for a wealthy man and adele is someone who is being blackmailed by said wealthy man). if that sounds interesting lmk!!!!! i'd also be down for other dynamics tho please feel free to suggest them!!

THE HUNGER GAMES: capitol citizen x capitol citizen, mentor x mentor, victor x dead tribute’s sibling/dead tribute’s best friend, literally any other combO!! smth with spies would be great too like spy rebel working a the capitol x capitol staff.

VIDEO GAMES: plots based on until dawn!!!!!!!!! which is one of my favs tbh (there’s SO MUCH POTENTIAl but i’m particularly weak for “we had a ‘opposites attract, will they don’t they’ thing going on and smth was about to happen between us at the cabin but then my sibling/best friend vanished and everything went to shit and we haven’t spoken in a year even though we miss each other dearly”.

HARRY POTTER:  

workaholic diplomats with a fuckton of baggage and personal struggles who are really good at their jobs and always butting heads… falling in love (bonus: maybe one of them is a squib)

pureblood order member is essentially kidnapped by their own elitist family and has their memory tampered with, meaning they now believe they’ve always just been a spy for the death eaters. they’re engaged and their significant other starts to notice little things that feel odd and unusual.

arranged marriage where they hate each other at first but grow to be fond of each other

i muggleborn who started lying about her blood status and is passing as elitist pureblood who ends up getting engaged to a pureblood. (prefer to play the muggleborn)

before the first wizarding war, two purebloods get married. it wasn't an arranged marriage and for all their differences they brought out the best in each other. their families were iffy about each other but they made it work. she remained mostly a housewife, enjoying the work and taking care of the children. things were good until the war rolled around and slowly, gradually. it became clear that his family (and he himself) were prejudiced against muggles and muggleborn. in the end they end up on opposite sides of the war, and it gets ugly.

arranged marriage between two people. he's a widower and a grump, no one really finds him good company and on top of that his wife died in questionable circumstances (everyone thinks he did it, but it was actually his parents). his parents picked her because she seems easy to manipulate and air-headed. they never thought they would end up gradually growing very fond of each other to the point of love - they have the same humor, he helps her try not to please everyone and she helps him allowing himself to be himself - and that he'd start standing up to his family. 

ANGELS / DEMONS / NOT FANDOM SPECIFIC: angel x fallen angel (please. think of all the pain and angst) or demon x redeemed demon or smth of the sort (the betrayal!!!)

X-MEN: literally too many possible combos to list and i want them all!!! the angstier/messier the better.

THE MUMMY: doesn't have to be based on the movie, i'm going for the ~vibes~ here. we can do: explorer/archaeologist x non-explorer, explorer/archaeologist x journalist, explorer/archaeologist x doctor, explorer/archaeologist x explorer/archaeologist.... they can be any age too! even exs with children, the options are endless.

PACIFIC RIM: trainee x trainee, pilot x scientist, pilot x pilot, doctor x pilot

OUTLANDER/TIME-TRAVELLING IN GENERAL: could be intentional, accidental, to the future or the past, etc so many options!! we can mix time-travelling with other fandoms too!!

TOMB RAIDER: feel free to make suggestions but here are some ideas: (a) and (b) have a long history (platonic, romantic, siblings, idc). they’re both explorers who for the most part have been on the same side. two peas in a pod. two sides of the same coin. etc etc. while trying to put together a mystery, and trying to beat the “bad guys” to it, they realise the object they are looking for can change the past or bring the dead back to life…. this is where (b) turns against (a), who, unlike them, wants to take the object and keep it safe inside a vault.

STAR WARS: literally too many options to list but i'll try: "jyn" x "cassian", spy x traitor, pilot x spy doctor, former stormtrooper x spy, former stormtrooper x regular person, spy x regular person, diplomat x pilot, diplomat x former stormtrooper, idk there's so many possible dynamics i couldn't list them all legit anything in this universe im begging lmao!

STRANGER THINGS: so many possibilities?? could be set at any point in time too... and/or make our characters older and have them revisit things that happened to them in the past.

MARVEL/MCU: superhero x human , superhero x superhero... all of these could go in so many ways?? the sky's the limit. reminder that i don't write canons tho!! idea 1) hero x law enforcement: where they kind of bumped into each other and started casually sleeping together just to blow off some steam... but then it turned into proper dating. the hero is super friendly and open, the law enforcement is more of a grump and doesn't trust easily.... the law enforcement also doesn't know the hero is a hero, and they are very much against heros in general as they feel like they put more people at risk. they more less move in together and that's when things get bad for the hero because now they constantly hear the law enforcement complain about heros... so the hero ends things.... but they find their way back to each other bc they really do love each other.... and then one day, the law enforcement catches the hero w/o their mask and orders them to turn around...  

ANASTASIA: lost princess/prince x kitchen boy/girl turned con-person who is at first using them for money but ends up falling in love with them and oops turns out they are the real deal.

THE LITTLE MERMAID: mermaid x prince, mermaid x human, mermaid x pirate, "ursula" x "eric"

ALADDIN: “i pretended to be a rich prince/princess to impress the their/heiress to the throne bc i’m poor as hell and i just want to stop being poor lmao … but oh boy i’ve fallen in love…….”

FROZEN:   "hans" x "anna" or "hans" x "elsa" (i just think "hans" is a great character and there's a lot we could do with him tbh) oc guard or commoner x "elsa" "anna" and "kristoff" but their relationship isn't working out the dynamic between "anna" and "elsa" bc i'm a sucker for sibling dynamics we could also explore the relationship of anna and elsa's parents!!!