#I’m very thankful for all those kudos

[coneygoil]

when you open the notification email from A03 to see all your kudos and none of them are for the fanfic you are currently working on

[metalcorebarbie]

I'm watching The Martian and I started to wonder why I randomly thought of you. And then it hit me... SEBASTIAN! 😂🌷

Haha glad that he’s still part of my Brand™️

[vicartless-bowuigi-space-au]

Space AU Update !! 🛸

I’ve got good news and “bad” news:

Good news—Space AU will be back to updating starting July 21st @7:30PM EST !!! 💙

I know that’s a while away, (& I do apologize for how long of a hiatus I’ve been on; it’s been driving me nuts, too) but I want to make sure I can consistently update for at least a few chapters !!

“Bad” news—I’ve converted all of my AO3 works to be accessed by Registered Users Only.

@dragon-creates shared their tweet about a bot specifically scraping AO3 works for AI. (I’ve attached the original screenshots under Keep Reading).

Until there’s any news announcing the removal of such bots, my works will remain accessible by Registered Users only.

I know this is inconvenient, and AO3 invitations take a long time. I’m so sorry about this!! But my writing is very dear to me & there’s no way I’m letting AI get a hold of my work!

💙 Again…

I just want to give a big thank you to those of you who’ve continued to support me despite my lack of updates; it seriously means a lot.

I am so grateful for every comment, kudo, and interaction with me outside of my AO3. Without your support, I wouldn’t have been able to return to this story—really !!! /gen 💙💙💙

I can’t guarantee that updates will be as consistent as they were when I first started, but I assure you this is a story I want to get to the finish line !! <3

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑯

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, comfort

word count: 2.5k

summary: joel brings you a care pack Maria gave him and you find a razor inside but when you confess your insecurities around the topic, Joel offers to help you out.

warnings: oral (receiving), reader having body hair and mentions of people nagging her about it pre-outbreak, joel trimming and shaving you, very domestic and soft joel

a/n: this is very self-indulgent babes, very soft joel, very domestic joel. I just want that big gruff man to take care of me thank you very much.

You still love the rain.��

It didn’t matter if you were out under a tent, didn’t matter if you were huddled with Joel in a cave—you still loved it all the same. The sound of thunder, the cold water drops against your skin, the smell. 

God, the smell of wet soil, the freshness of it swirling in your lungs. Observing the gray sky, the moving clouds, and the peaks of the mountains hidden beneath them, you’re in love with it all. Even on days when you were frustrated, angry, bloody, and bruised, the rain seemed to wash that all away without even touching your skin. 

You smile underneath the heavy downpour of the steaming shower. Your bones ache tenderly, muscles turning to shapable clay underneath waterdrops. It’s heavenly. You don’t even remember the last time you felt warm water sliding down your body. Even after giving Tommy an earful about not letting Joel know he was alright, you have to give him kudos for building a life for himself. Jackson seems like the perfect community; there was food, hot water, homes—and most importantly, safety. 

Turning off the water, you step outside. It almost feels like the old days. Your mirror is fogged up, the steam clinging to your softened skin. Wrapping a towel snugly around your body, you wonder what Joel is up to. 

Tommy and Maria had prepared you two separate rooms. It wasn’t needed, but you kept your mouth shut at the time. It’s still hard to know what Joel would be comfortable with. Maybe he preferred to sleep alone, you didn’t want to force him into anything he didn’t want to. He hadn’t said anything to that, he just placed a hand over your thigh, squeezing it tenderly from underneath the table. His gaze never left Tommy’s when he did, the conversation still flowing effortlessly. 

When you step out of the bathroom, the steam shadowing your steps, you’re surprised to find Joel on the bed. 

His gaze slowly moves up, a smile blossoming on his lips. You had dubbed that smile of his his “half-smile”. Happy but unsure if he should be. 

“Lookin’ good,” he murmurs, soft browns raking up and down your body. “Fresh as a daisy.” 

You grin and, lifting the bottom of your towel slightly, give him an unbalanced bow. “Why thank you, kind sir.” 

His smile widens and you practically melt under his gaze. Without saying another word, he throws a small bag toward you. Nearly falling, you catch it and peek inside. It’s a menstrual cup, a half-decent razor, and a small pair of scissors. You shoot him a quizzical look. 

“From Maria,” he says. “I have no idea what’s in it.” 

“Nothing important. A menstrual cup and a razor.” you exhale. 

“Then why are you actin’ as if she gave you a severed finger? Aren’t those…good things?” 

“It is. Just, I don’t know. It’s good.” 

He raises to his feet and a second later two strong arms wrap themselves around you. You lean into him without a second thought, if water is seeping through his shirt, he doesn’t say a word. Joel’s thumbs move in circles above the towel. You let out a sigh. 

“I’m not good at it,” you say hoping that he’ll just understand. 

He doesn’t.

“Not good at what?” 

You really hate this. It’s a stupid thing to worry about but your inability to properly shave had always proven to be an issue before the outbreak. Men scrunching up their noses, friends commenting you should get it removed, professionals claiming it’s “dirty” when realistically speaking it wasn't. 

Then the outbreak happened, and even though it was the end of the world, at least you didn’t need to worry about body hair. A bit of a heartless thought, you realize, but your brain still whispers gratitude from time to time. 

Joel didn’t mind, or just didn’t say anything. He held you all the same, fucking himself deeper with every thrust, holding you tight enough that you were convinced he’d never let you go. He starved for you. Some days he tasted you until you felt raw and overwhelmed. He never said anything. Why would he when the both of you were just trying to survive? 

But now that was different. You had a temporary home, warm water. 

A bed. 

It just feels silly to admit this insecurity now. He’s already seen it all, felt it all, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to tidy yourself up a bit. You have the time after all. God knows when you’ll get a chance like this again. 

Joel’s arms tighten around you and you feel his chapped lips against your neck. You’ve been silent for too long. 

“Tell me.” 

You swallow. “Shaving.” you answer. “I’m not…I’m not good at it. Always miss a spot especially—” 

“Especially?” 

You hear the blood rush in your ears, your heart beats in your throat. Your lips are sealed shut, a thin line refusing to break. When his hand slides down your stomach you look down, your legs already shaking. His lips touch your ear. 

“Show me.” 

Covering his hand with your own, you guide him down until it’s resting on your mound. His fingers gently press down, he feels the fabric of the towel and his lips brush the side of your chin. 

“Do you want me to help?” his breath feels heavy and warm against your skin.

“You’d…” you lick your lips. “You’d want to do that?” 

“Only if you want me to,” he answers, large hands gripping your hips. “You don’t have to do it, of course. I mean, you don’t have to shave if that’s not your thing.” 

You turn within his arms and cradle his face with both hands. You feel light as a feather, soft tears building in your eyes as you smile. Joel must’ve seen the extra shine because he leans in to kiss you. It’s not a consuming kiss but a comforting one. You take deep breaths as those same pair of lips travel down the column of your throat, his kisses wet when he reaches your shoulder. He gently nudges you towards the bed. 

“Lay down the towel, get comfortable.” you feel his lips one more time before he parts away. “I’ll be back in a minute.” 

You do as you’re told. Laying down the towel, you swallow how nervous you are. The coolness of the room chills your skin but your insides are boiling hot. You feel like you should do more than just laying down on a towel, like you should prepare more thoroughly. But you’ve already taken a shower. Not really much else you can do but that right? 

Your fingers twitch over the bed sheets and stare blankly at the ceiling. This is awkward. You should’ve said no, you should’ve—

“Breath in, sweetheart,” Joel says standing at the door with a small bucket and another towel. He sighs when you give him a look of—what you assume—absolute horror. 

The bed dips as he takes a seat at the end. Placing the bucket full of water down, he skims your leg with the tips of his fingers. 

“We can stop whenever you want to,” he reminds you. “I promise to be careful.” 

You mutter alright and as soon as you do his hand moves to the inner section of your leg, heat gathers at the base of your spine, you let out a breath. 

“Part you legs for me, honey.” 

The pose alone feels uncomfortably familiar. You remember the days you would have to get waxed, how it would hurt and how you would just stare at the ceiling thinking that it’d be over soon. You press your sweaty hands into the sheets, a slight termble to your thighs as Joel comes closer. His hand finds the dip of your waist, his touch feather light, moving up your body and resting right under the swell of your breast. The gesture sooths you like it would a wounded animal. You let out a breath. 

Your gaze drops to look at him and he holds your gaze, squeezing your flesh tenderly before pulling back his hand. He raises his brows and you nod at his silent question. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. And when your head falls back into the pillows you’re smiling, the tension drained away from your muscles. 

You never thought that this would be the type of comfort you would be receiving during the ends of the earth. Joel is gentle, precise. He’s a man that’s good with his hands and it shows. His thumb moves between your folds, when you let out a sharp sigh, he repeats the movement and his lips curl with amusement. 

“You like that?” 

You hum. “It feels good.” 

“I’ll make you feel even better in a bit.” 

First he trims down the hairs, then he dabs your mound with the water he brought and begins shaving you. It doesn’t hurt, and it’s oddly soothing. His fingers move over the places that are freshly shaved, a soft hum echoing from his throat at a job well done. He takes his time. And whenever you look down you notice the swirl of emotion in his eyes that he’s enjoying doing this for you. The crease between his brows softens, the tip of his tongue snug between his lips as he continues. It’s nice. 

“You enjoy this?” you ask, it sounds louder in the silence of the room. 

Joel takes a moment to wet the razor again, cleaning the access.  When he looks up to you, you can’t help but press your knee into his cheek. He leans into the contact, lips finding the slope and leaving a tender kiss. 

“I enjoy that you trust me,” he murmurs. “I enjoy takin’ care of you.” 

“That’s a relief,” you answer, your head falling back down. You shudder as you feel his lips once more, then he spreads your legs again. “And for the record I do like…being taken care of.” 

“You don’t need to be shy about it,” he drawls. “I know.” 

Your heart skips a beat, blood pools under your nails. “You do?” 

“I mean…yeah?” he chuckles. “We’ve been together for a while, you and I, and I think by now I know a thing or two of what you like. I love it when you cling to me when I’m inside you, the way you mutter for me to hold you and go harder,” his voice drops a beat, his breath hot and heavy as it fans over your sex. Slick pools between your legs. “I know it wasn’t always good with me but I’m glad to be the person you turn to.” 

“Joel…”

Before you can say anything, he presses a towel against your core and wipes you down. He doesn’t look back at you as he does so. You know that it’s hard for him to say that. To confess something he hadn’t even confessed to himself for years. 

“All done.” he says, throwing the razor into the bucket and the towel to the floor. Joel doesn’t move away, and neither do you. Your breathing grows heavy, your chest stuttering with every exhale. He comes closer and guides your legs above his shoulder. You feel his breath, his heat, his gaze. 

He kisses the skin right under your pubic bone, he holds your gaze as he moves up, his lips tender against your folds. 

“Can I?” he whispers, the need of his tone sending shudders up your spine. 

“Go ahead.” 

Joel’s tongue dips between the lips of your cunt, his lips moving the same way it does when he presses them onto your mouth. His fingers bite into your skin, the movement of his tongue more eager as he tugs you further down and into his mouth. Joel savors the taste as moves he long and slow. You feel the flat of his tongue, the trembling of his chest as he groans into you. Without thinking you jerk towards his mouth, his lips too sinful, too good for you to stay still. You thread your fingers into his hair and pull him closer. 

A moan part your lips as he parts your folds and flicks his tongue over your clit. A sharp feeling of pelasure courses through you, too sudden to be described as a wave, too overwhelming and lingering to be described as a jolt of electricity. He’s the only one to make you feel like this. He laves at the sensitive bundle fo nerves, pursing his lips around the nub and swirling his tongue around it. You chase the feeling, grinding up into him until he pins your hips down and inhales you. 

“Stay still,” he groans. “You taste so good, honey. Could live out the rest of my days spoilin’ this perfect cunt.” 

He sloopily laps at your cunt and sucks at the clit, the pads of his fingers draw circles over your aching hole before sliding two in. Your eyes snap open, your jaw dropping nearly all the way to your chest. 

“Shit—” you choke out, your hips trembling. “Shit, shit, shit. Joel, please—” 

“Love it when you get all needy for me,” he says, licking a stripe up between your folds as he rocks his fingers deeper into you. “My sweet girl, can’t even as what she wants. You want me to make you come, sweetheart?” 

“Yes,” you cry out. “Yes, yes, please make me come. Please—you feel so good, Joel.” 

He nips at the inside of your thigh before coming back to your sex, his fingers are knuckle deep and you see white when he curls them. Every nerve is burning with want, with need. Your stomach tightens, your skin prickling with everything he does. You can barely breathe, suffocating and swallowing down your bated breaths. 

He takes his time, pulling his fingers out before plunging them back in, pushing you to the very brink. You shudder, your body trembling with pleasure as he laps and suckles at your sweetest spots. His tongue moves in circles and swirls, flicking and rubbing against your clit as he increases the tempo. His fingers work in tandem, thrusting deep inside you, his other hand holding you firmly in place. 

Your body is consumed by him, your mind spinning from the intensity of it. Joel doesn't let up, his movements becoming more and more frenzied as he brings you to the edge of oblivion. You can feel your orgasm building inside you, and as it reaches its peak you break down, letting out a cry as you gush around his fingers and drench his lips. You grip at Joel's hair as your body is rocked by wave after wave of pleasure, your hips bucking wildly against his face as your orgasm takes full control. 

Joel holds you close, his fingers still inside you as your orgasm slowly subsides. He kisses your stomach, and you feel a warmth spread through you.

He pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean before moving up your body and pulling you into a tight embrace. There’s something incredibly vulnerable about you being completely in the nude while he’s compeltly clothed. You curl into a ball, he pulls you closer. 

“I think I need another shower,” you grin, looking up. “You made a mess of me, Joel Miller.” 

“Up to you,” he murmurs and presses his lips to your forehead. “But this time I’m joining you.” 

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in August 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup [ @1dmonthlyficroundup ] which you can find here!Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #65 |  ko-fi | fic recs

- Louis / Harry -

🌤️Your A-Team, Your Endgame by @silverkiiwii

(E, 70k, reality show au) a Next In Fashion au where Louis and Harry are partnered in the competition but they do not get along when they have to if they want to win. Full of fashion, banter, misunderstanding and a whole lot of making each other blush.

🌤️ Groupie Love by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry

(E, 45k, m/f) In other words, Louis is a rock star on a world tour and Harry is a regular attendee. They could never work.

🌤️ But I know you by Thingssicant / @slowlyseducedbycurls

(NR, 26k, space) Harry is a journalist, Louis is an astronaut, but it's way more complicated than that

🌤️ You Can't Change The Rolling Tide by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove

(M, 24k, summer) Louis lives on a tiny island off the coast of England and runs a sailboat touring company. When Niall is sidelined for the summer after his knee surgery, Louis needs a temporary new partner. Who better to fill that role than Harry, recently returned to the island after five years away?

🌤️ At your service, for your usage (series) by @holdingontochaos

(E, 16k, sex work) Louis is a doctor who works so much that he has barely any time to himself for pleasure, let alone to clean his house so he hires Harry as his naked maid and kills two birds with one stone.

🌤️ the past might be painful, but i’m in love with our future by localopa / @voulezloux

(T, 10k, part 2 of trans Louis verse) it takes a lot of convincing for louis to let harry take him to his first pride. harry understands his worries and fears. really, he does. he just wants to show his boyfriend that he doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

🌤️ never just the tip by journeytothepast / @suckerforhome

(E, 6k, omegaverse) Harry believes alphas can't control themselves. Louis proves him wrong.

🌤️ You Put the Boom Boom Into My Heart by @kingsofeverything

(T, 5k, historical) Harry's been trying all summer to come up with a way to show Louis how much he means to him before he leaves for college. Or five times Harry fails to win Wham! tickets and one time he succeeds.

🌤️ The Island by @jaerie

(E, 5k, part 2 of The Wilds) Researchers plucked some of them from their secluded island and transplanted them into an enclosure against their will like a bunch of zoo animals. But they weren't animals and they all had a story of how they got here.

🌤️ Dear Louis by callmenine

(E, 5k, famous/not famous) The one where Harry is a popstar having an existential crises and writes a song for his high school ex-boyfriend Louis after more than ten years of no contact.

🌤️ Let the Feeling Last by @allwaswell16

(T, 5k, unhinged pet fic) Omega Harry thinks the alpha at the grocery store buying a cart full of vegetables must be an amazing chef. He doesn't know that Alpha Louis is feeding all those vegetables to his pet pig.

🌤️ Stars over Amsterdam by @hellolovers13

(T, 4k, exes) Fate in form of Eras Tour tickets forces Louis to meet up with his Ex. Hopefully soon to be Ex-Ex.

🌤️ (on the edge until) you pull me in by @justanothershadeofblue

(E, 3k, fantasizing) His dick is not about to fall off, thank you very much, Niall, but it has been a while since he’s had time for a wank. 

🌤️ i'm going out tonight by @disgruntledkittenface

(M, 3k, established relationship) Louis hasn’t been appreciating his boyfriend Harry. He only realizes it when Harry takes matters into his own hands.

🌤️ I just wanna be yours (wanna be yours, wanna be yours) by @dreaminrainbows

(E, 3k, pwp) Harry studies his sixteen year old self’s face for a long moment and it's truly pathetic how in fourteen years nothing has really changed.

🌤️ the sign on your heart (it's reserved for me) by moon_rose25 / @darkinfinity

(G, 3k, kid fic) The one where Louis Tomlinson is a single dad and is finally allowing himself to start dating. Insert Harry Styles, a charming coffee shop owner who sweeps him off his feet.

🌤️ HOT TO GO! by @allwaswell16

(T, 2k, famous/not famous) When Harry does something weird at the barricade, he leaves Louis’ show devastated and hoping he can somehow make things right. Or the accidental pervert fic

🌤️ Gotta Feeling by @allwaswell16

(T, 2k, tour guide Louis) When Harry's life in Manchester isn't turning out the way he thought it would, he decides to visit his best friend in Mexico City. Maybe Niall can convince him to move halfway around the world.

🌤️ Ice, Ice, Baby by cherrylarry / @beelou

(G, 1k, meet cute) Figure skater Harry takes Louis out on the ice for the first time

- Rare Pairs -

🌤️ Like A Force Of Nature by @reminiscingintherain

(T, 30k, Zayn/Liam) the Heartstopper AU no one asked for.

🌤️ The Grundy County Drag Show Incident by @haztobegood

(T, 3k, Zayn/Liam) Holding a wireless mic in her gloved hand, Veronica Stardust owned the stage. She was one of the most vocally talented drag queens in the Midwest. Part 2 of Grundy County Incidents

[enjoythesilentworld]

more than just a minute

in honor of 500 (!!) kudos on one of my favorite things I've ever written, just if for a minute, aka the fake marriage-friends to lovers au, here's a short little drabble I wrote about what those two (not) fake married boys are up to now 💜 and thank u so much for 500!!! wtf!!!

“Baby?”

Simon’s voice comes back slightly muffled from across the apartment, “Yeah?”

“Have you seen that blue button up of mine?” Wille calls back, shuffling through their mess of a closet. “The nice one with the stripes?”

There’s a pause, then Wille hears a loud sigh and the quiet pat-pat-pat of Simon’s socked feet on hard wood. One moment later, the exasperated face of his darling husband — husband! — appears in the doorway.

“Wille,” Simon says softly, as if speaking to a naughty child. “Darling. Light of my life. It’s a beach vacation. Grab two pairs of swim trunks and call it a day.”

“It’s not just a beach vacation,” Wille pouts.

With another small sigh and fond shake of his head, Simon steps fully into the room and loops his arms around Wille’s neck. Though Wille is still pouting slightly, it’s mostly for show, and his hands find their place on Simon’s waist, thumbs slipping under his sweater to rub small, gentle circles into warm skin.

“You’re right,” Simon nods, tucking his face into Wille’s neck. “It’s not just a beach vacation. But seeing as it is our honeymoon, that makes clothes even less of a necessity.”

The teasing tone in Simon’s voice and small nip of teeth on the sensitive skin under his ear pulls a giggle from Wille, and he buries his face in Simon’s curls, inhaling the calming scent.

Two months. Two months since their wedding, which had started out fake and very nearly been a total disaster but was saved at the last minute by a long-overdue (and luckily mutual) love confession. Two months since their wedding, which is altogether not very long at all, in the grand scheme of things, even if they had technically been in love with each other for the past few (many) years.

As such, the fact that Wille is standing here, in the bedroom of their shared apartment—shared before but is now shared in a wholly different way—with Simon, his husband, all wrapped up in his arms still makes his head spin. And, technically, it’s their second bedroom, formerly Simon’s bedroom which is now more of an office space—also, the very handy storage place for summer clothes while they’re in the thick of Swedish winter.

The words husband and shared and honeymoon swirl around in Wille’s brain as Simon wiggles out of his arms and turns to search for the shirt Wille’d asked about. Simon is right, it’s a beach vacation, and though they have been married for two months, the holiday season has been a whirlwind, and Wille has not been able to have Simon all to himself as much as he’s wanted to. This honeymoon will finally allow them to have that, a week and a half in the sun and sand, clothing optional.

“Did you pack that new sunscreen I bought today?”

“Oh, so I’m not allowed to bring clothes, but you can bring seven tubes of sunscreen?” Wille teases, following Simon as he slips out into the hallway and across to their bedroom, with their bed, that they sleep in every night together. His husband.

“The fact that you’re not allowed to bring clothes,” Simon retorts, “is the reason for all the sunscreen, Dracula.”

“Hey!” He pinches at Simon’s hips, then gets tackled back onto the bed in retaliation.

They roll together over the winter quilts, laughing and wriggling fingers under sweaters to tickle at soft spots of skin. Simon yelps when Wille gets him on the bum and quickly manages to win the wrestling match, pinning Wille back to the bed, wrists over his head and pressed into the pillows. He hovers over Wille, cheeks flushed pink and chest heaving, a big, proud grin on his face.

Wille smirks at him. “This is not the win you think it is,” he says, glancing down at where Simon has settled into this lap.

Fondly, Simon scoffs and rolls his eyes, starting to move away, which simply won’t do. Using his newly freed wrists, Wille loops his arms around Simon’s waist and flips them, wrapping himself around his husband like a koala.

“Wille!” Simon squeals, squirming and giggling. “We’ve got to finish packing! Our flight is in the morning!”

The last few words get partially cut-off by breathless laughter, but he stops trying to get away when Wille murmurs, “Just a minute or two more,” into the skin on Simon’s neck, nuzzling his face there.

They’ll probably stay there a bit longer than a few minutes, but they don’t mind. Simon is right, anyway; it’s their honeymoon, being clothed is way further down on the list than just being in each other’s arms as much as possible.

[mylittleredgirl]

while we’re having the endless debate about sorting by kudos or not on ao3, i have to stump for my personal favorite way to find fics:

i basically always go straight to the “bookmarks” page for whatever pairing/tag i’m reading rather than the “works” page, and i literally just realized why: it lights up the same parts of my tumblr gremin brain as my dash does.

content hand-selected by people who are bookmarking shit for their own reasons entirely unknowable to me, so it’s a mix of quality peer review and user xyz’s to-read list

if you keep going back to it there’s a repetition over time as new people bookmark old fics. as a tumblr girlie my brain enjoys seeing Thing I Recognize

brand new fics often show up there if they’re good!! (equivalent: new posts tagged “investing at 5 notes”)

a lot of the top kudos fics keep showing up too because so many people sort the works page that way (equivalent: heritage post)

but so much random stuff shows up too that i would otherwise never find, thanks to the hardworking folks out there sobbing into the bottom of the tag at 4 am (equivalent: those posts with 56 notes from 2011 that somehow?? end up on your dash like bestie how did you even find that)

sometimes there are 30 bookmarks in a row by the same person who has a new hyperfixation and you get to think “good for them”

sometimes you get to recognize a username as someone having good or seriously bad taste

sometimes i see my own fics in the mix!! and get that little hit of positive attention (or neutral attention i guess, when people add a bookmarker tag like “it’s about [my fave character] but it’s ok”)

yeah! people can add bookmarker tags and their own notes! so sometimes people rec fics or add marginalia and their own sortable tags (but most people don’t)

there’s always that one fucking harry potter crossover fic with 194 tags in the mix (equivalent: manscaped ads you can’t escape). not saying this is a plus, but scrolling past the same long post you hate for the dozenth time is also an essential part of the tumblr experience.

re: that last bullet point, the one downside of the bookmarks page is that the filtering isn’t quite as robust as on the works page. you do have all the usual include/exclude filter options, but the very last section of filtering (crossovers, WIPs, word count, date range) is not available. (@ ao3 coders please i’m begging 🥺🙏)

anyway i’m sure the bookmarking economy is different across fandoms, but this will give you a semi-randomized feed of the tag, weighted toward new and popular fics (and, for better or worse, unfinished multi-chapter works and megafandom crossovers). it’s probably a good place to start for people who long for an algorithm, but unlike the usual user-targeted panopticon experience it’s more like the chance to rummage through strangers’ junk drawers for fic. tumblr vibes. you get me.

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2023 Day 31: Spookycorp

It's been a busy month and I didn't get to do as many of these as I have in previous years but I've really missed writing supercorp and this month has been fun. I really appreciate all the support through likes and reblogs (and comments and kudos on ao3), I would not have written as many as I did without you guys.

Enjoy this final prompt (even if it is something silly) and thanks again for reading :)

ao3 fic link. series link.

---

Kara is dressed as a banana. And Lena thinks she might be in love.

“What do you think?” Kara asks, a stupidly beautiful grin on her face. 

Yep, Lena’s definitely in love.

“I think you’re by far the brightest person in the room,” Lena comments. They both glance around and Lena is right, there are a range of different costumes around the room but Kara’s is, by far, the most eye-catching costume.

Kara grins again. “Alex bet me five sticky buns I wouldn’t wear this tonight, but guess who is going to have a delicious breakfast tomorrow morning?”

Lena’s not sure how one person can eat so much but there is no doubt in her mind that Kara will eat them all tomorrow. “I’m guessing you?”

Lena’s not sure how she does it, but Kara’s grin gets even brighter. She really is like the sun, bright and beautiful, drawing Lena in like no one else has before.

“It’s going to be so good,” Kara says. “She’ll also owe me a carton of ice cream if I can do five costume changes this evening.”

Lena takes a moment to process what Kara has said, thinking she’s heard her wrong. “You’re not going to wear this all night?”

“You think I’d come to a fancy party just dressed like a banana?”

“Honestly? Yeah. Somehow, this is very you,” Lena says, gesturing to Kara’s body.

“I don’t know what that means but I’m taking it as a compliment.”

Lena’s not quite sure what it means either. “You should. What other costumes do you have to wear?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Kara winks, and Lena’s knees go weak.  “I better go, I have lots of outfits to wear tonight if I want that ice cream.”

---

The next time Lena sees Kara is not long later, but it takes her a moment to realise it’s her because she has in fact changed costume. Lena has to take a breath before she makes her way towards Kara.

“I see you’ve changed,” Lena says, trying to keep her eyes from the distracting view of Kara’s now bare legs. She’s wearing a skirt, but it’s a short one.

“What do you think?” Kara asks, swinging the tennis racket she’s holding up to rest of her shoulder. She’s dressed all in white. White shirt, white skirt, white shoes, and even white sweat bands around her wrists and forehead. “Think I’d make a good tennis player?”

Lena has to take another breath, because this is a look she never expected to see on Kara, but one she knows will now be burned in her brain.

“I’m not sure, maybe we should play some time and find out?”

Kara’s eyes light up, which Lena is pretty sure is just the competitive nature in her.

“Deal.”

---

Lena spots the Scooby-Doo costume from across the room, the head towering over most people, and she doesn’t need to get closer to know that it’s Kara.

“Why are you dressed like a dog?” Lena asks when she does get closer. Because how can she stay away from Kara? Even if she does look a little ridiculous right now.

She’s drawing attention from other partygoers, clearly not used to people like Kara. But that’s the rich for you.

“I’m not just any dog, I’m Scooby-Doo.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “I know, because you made me watch both of those movies.”

“This was part of Alex’s bet, I think she’s trying to embarrass me.”

That sounds exactly like Alex. Lena presses her lips together, trying not to laugh. “I think you look cute,” Lena comments. “But I think you made a cute tennis player and a cute banana too.”

The costume hides half of Kara’s face, but Lena’s pretty sure Kara is blushing. Or maybe she’s just hot from the full body suit.

---

Lena hadn’t realised it was something she’d wanted to see until the next outfit Kara appears in is a Supergirl costume.

Kara looks incredible. She has a similar build to Supergirl, so from a distance, no one could be blamed for mistaking her for Supergirl.

Actually, close up, she wouldn’t blame someone for confusing the two either. The blonde hair definitely helps, so do the sharp blue eyes that Lena finds herself lost in thought about far too often.

“What brings you here tonight, Supergirl?” Lena asks, eyes dropping of their own accord. Lena knows Kara is quite muscly under her usual blouses and sweaters, but it’s something else seeing her in a suit like this. Lena’s pretty sure the suit isn’t padded, that it’s all Kara.

Another short skirt isn’t helping Lena’s attention either.

“A Luthor party is always a target, I thought I should stop by to make sure everything was ok,” Kara smiles.

Lena’s actually surprised the real Supergirl hasn’t stopped by, she usually does to any L-Corp event. Most times, just a visit from her is enough to deter any possible threats.

Lena smiles, still playing along. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

“Anytime. I better check the perimeter, make sure there’s nothing I’ve missed. Have a good evening, Miss Luthor.”

“You too, Supergirl. Stay safe.”

Lena’s about to break character (though she’s technically playing herself) but she’s cut off when Kara floats off the ground and then disappears into the air, leaving a very surprised Lena in her wake.

---

Kara’s next costume is an angel, which goes well with Lena’s devil outfit (which consists of a black dress and horns on her head) but Lena can’t even admire that, not when her whole world has been rocked.

She wonders for a moment whether she’d just gotten the two confused, but there was no doubt in her mind before that she was talking to Kara.

Kara is Supergirl, and she’s not sure how she didn’t see it before, she’d even just thought about how similar they both look, and she still didn’t make the connection.

At least Kara’s hurried excuses to leave when they’re together make sense now but still, she’s smart, she should have figured it out.

Now here she is, not sure what to do with the information. Or she does. The answer is nothing, she’s not going to tell anyone. And she wants Kara to know she can trust her too.

(And part of her can’t help but wonder why Kara hasn’t told her yet. She thought they were friends. Thought they were best friends but it turns out Kara has been lying to her this whole time).

“Looks like you’ve won your carton of ice cream,” Lena says.

There’s no time like the present.

Kara frowns. “No, that’s only four.”

“No, that’s your fifth outfit.“ Lena holds up a fist, raising a finger as she counts each one. “Banana, dog, tennis player, angel and…”

Lena trails off, for a moment wondering if she should just keep quiet. But they’re alone near the food table, no one close enough to hear them. And she wants Kara to know that she knows.

Before Kara can cut in, Lena holds up her last finger. “And Supergirl makes five.”

Kara freezes, Lena can see her processing what she’s just said. Lena’s not sure what she’ll do if Kara denies it.

Kara glances around, voice quiet when she finally speaks. “How did you know it was me?”

Relief washes over Lena, she’s not sure what she would’ve done if Kara had denied it.

“The better question is, how did I not see it before? You don’t even wear a mask. But tonight I was watching the crowd, waiting for you to appear. I think I saw you before I realised what you were wearing.” Lena shakes her head. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it, you literally look the same.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, no one sees it.’

“But I’m your best friend, I should have known.”

“I think I should counter that with, you’re my best friend, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Kara reaches out, takes Lena’s hand. “I promise, it was me and not you. I trust you, I just didn’t know how to tell you with all the history between you and Supergirl. Or you and me, I guess. I just didn’t want to risk losing you.”

Lena squeezes Kara’s hand. “You’re never going to lose me, I promise. But no more secrets, okay?”

Lena feels like a bit of a hypocrite asking that, when she’s hiding a secret herself. But baby steps, she can work up to telling Kara she’s in love with her another time.

“No more secrets,” Kara nods. “I promise. After the party, do you want to come over? I can tell you everything.”

Lena swallows down the emotion that rises in her throat. “I’d like that.”

The moment lingers and Lena finds herself caught in blue eyes she’s often distracted by.

She breaks the moment, she has to, before she does something stupid. “So, tell me, if Supergirl wasn’t your fifth costume, then what is it?”

“You’re just going to have to wait and see. I still need that fifth costume change because I cannot tell Alex one of them was Supergirl and that’s how you found out or she’d kill me. She already thinks I’m not careful enough, next she’ll make me wear a mask or something.”

Lena laughs. “Your secret is safe with me.” She pauses. “All of them.” Kara needs to know she won’t tell anyone either.

Kara smiles, tangling their fingers together again. This time she doesn’t let go. “I know.”

[seekforwarmth]

hello and welcome to the june fic rec featuring my favourite works i read during the past weeks. as always, please check tags before reading. if you liked the fics please reblog their posts, leave kudos and write a nice comment. happy reading! (and happy pride month!) rec tag | more rec lists

— harry/louis —  

໑ Don’t Embarrass Me, Motherfucker by @allwaswell16 (T, 1.4k, established relationship, time stamp, professor harry, pets) Harry comes home from work to find Louis and their parrot are up to something.

A Darcy the Parrot time stamp

໑ All My Life by wanderlou (NR, 5k, established relationship, marriage proposal, humour) The four times Harry tries to propose and the one time he gets it right (or does he?)

໑ Take My Hand, Dumbass by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup (G, 6k, enemies to lovers, a/b/o college au, roommates, touch depri) There's only alpha dorms at university, and Louis Tomlinson, omega, refuses to pay the exorbitant fees to live off campus. So, four years pretending to be an alpha it is! That'll be easy.

And maybe it would be easy, if not for the depri and the annoying alpha roommate and the fact that Louis is, honestly, a bit too stubborn for his own good.

໑ Little Love by GoldenSunflouervol6 (NR, 8.7k, friends to lovers, a/b/o au, fbi, homelessness) Written for the Omegaverse fic fest for prompt: 205. L & H are FBI/CIA/MI6/whatever agents and best friends. L goes on a mission without H (they’re partners, so they usually go together) and he doesn’t return. 2 yrs later he returns to the agency after escaping from wherever he was (maybe he was kidnapped, experimented on, etc., can be up to the author!). H tries to get L to talk about why he was gone/what he went through, but L isn’t ready. They continue to go on missions, but L is falling apart. Maybe he’s having nightmares, flashbacks, etc. Whoever held L captive ends up finding him again and takes him back. He either escapes again or H finds him. The author can obviously add stuff! This is more like an outline, maybe? Preferably omega L & alpha H, but ultimately up to author. Would love to see the other boys in it too, but that’s up to the author as well! [possessive & jealous h, sassy & tough l] L can be feminized, but preferably not too much.

໑ the past might be painful, but i’m in love with our future by localopa / @voulezloux (T, 10k, established relationship, pride, time stamp) it takes a lot of convincing for louis to let harry take him to his first pride. harry understands his worries and fears. really, he does. he just wants to show his boyfriend that he doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

a don’t be afraid to love (and love again) time stamp.

໑ Louis and the Very Terrible, No Good Sleep by Stria / @nooradeservedbetter (E, 10k, roommates, a/b/o au, insomnia, 5+1 things) Louis had always been used to sleeping in a puppy pile back home. It was something that just happened, with all of his siblings being omegas, they just ended up in a giant nest all together, and Louis loved to cuddle in the warmth, and breathe in the familiar scent of home. He hadn’t thought much about it when, after graduating from the local uni, he got a job offer in Brighton and had to leave the family den.

Or, Louis is insomniac. Follow him in his quest to fall asleep.

໑ You Just Be Yourself by @lululawrence (NR, 13k, strangers to lovers, a/b/o au, kid fic, 5+1 things) “Thanks, Mom.”

Louis’ breath was knocked right out of him at those words, and Grey froze. They then immediately pulled out of Louis’ arms and scurried out of sight before either Harry or Louis could respond.

“Shit,” Harry cursed quietly, looking between Louis and where Grey had disappeared.

“I…” Louis blinked and looked down at the boxes still scattered on the floor. By the time he had gathered them back up, Harry was also gone.

Or five times Harry's daughter claims Louis as her mother, and one time Louis claims them both as his too.

໑ back where we belong by Ashisinlove (NR, 15k, exes to lovers, a/b/o au, college/university au, lack of communication, omega drop, read tags and author’s note) an exes to lover university!au where louis did not know how to express his concern in the relationship and harry did not know his omega was feeling this way.

໑ Ugly love by Hazzaslittle28 (E, 16k, kind of established relationship, governor harry, prostitute louis, accidental pregnancy) And Louis knew one thing as he stares at the dark sky and trees, the town moving away from his vision that he's never going to let his child feel the betrayal and hurt and all the hardships he went through.

He's going to give his baby enough love to fill the absence of her father. The ring in his fingers burn, there was rage inside Louis but most of all resided a boy who was still in denial that one day, one day his love would return back to him. Hold him and they'll stay happy as ever.

Or

The 1860s Au where Louis is a prostitute and Harry's a governor, they both are in love until they aren't.

໑ frightened by the bite, no harsher than the bark by localopa / @voulezloux (T, 21.6k, strangers to lovers, a/b/o au, rockstar louis, bodyguard harry, touch deprivation) louis loves going to the barricade during his shows. if it’s because he’s got a bit (lot) of touch deprivation and is using it as an excuse to have his big alpha bodyguard, harry, touch him, well, that’s a secret he doesn’t need to tell.

໑ Scarred by @allwaswell16 (E, 23k, enemies to lovers, soulmates, a/b/o au, sick fic, touch deprivation, soul bond, scars, read tags) As a male omega, Louis has learned to live with disappointment and rejection, but he dreams of the day he finds his soulmate. When Harry inadvertently rejects him as his soulmate, Harry has no idea he's doomed Louis to a slow, painful death.

Pride doesn't keep Louis from telling Harry the truth. But love does.

— rare pairs —

໑ It's You by @allwaswell16 (louis/louis, T, 2.7k, a/b/o university au, clones, 5+1 things) Five times alpha Louis talks to omega Lou and one time he admits he wants more from his omega clone

໑ The Tiniest Moves by @allwaswell16 (louis/nick grimshaw, T, 1.5k, getting together, famous/non famous au) Coffee shop owner Nick Grimshaw may or may not have come to work on his day off in the hopes that fresh-off-his-world-tour Louis Tomlinson might stop by.

[laura1633]

i need to say this somewhere and i hope you won’t mind if i send this “rant” here. bc this is just a stupid smut pet peeve that i let annoy me so much.

but anyway every time i go to the lestappen tag i get really disheartened bc there is such a imbalance. there is so much bottom charles and omega charles and charles being loved and worshiped and i honestly wouldn’t mind that at all but the number of fics where max gets the same are pretty much nonexistent compared to charles-centric fics like there are bottom max fics but they get drowned out. pretty much all the popular fics that have thousands of kudos and that ppl recommend to everyone are bottom charles. seriously i saw a rec list once where the few bottom max fics had the fact that they are bottom max mentioned in the same manner as content warnings for some other fics. it was super weird but maybe the person who made that didn’t think it would come across like that.

i know there are lots of bottom max fics (i’ve probably read them all lol) and ppl who like both, like you. i’m happy about the ppl who comment on bottom max fics those fics still get a lot of love even when it seems so little in the grand scheme of things. but i’m just annoyed and a bit confused that it’s so disproportionate. probably bc charles is more popular than max and bottom charles has gotten so popular ppl are inclined to it and it's "safe" and gets more love.

then again there’s so much talk about omega max on tumblr and then none of that shows on ao3 weirdly. (except maybe on the maxiel side i literally became a maxiel shipper bc i wanted more omega max lol) some ppl on here who say they’re bottom/omega max “truthers” have like several top max fics on their account and no bottom max fics which literally not that deep everyone should write what they want and what they are inspired to write but not practicing what you preach confuses me a bit not gonna lie haha. i’ve written my own fics which are pretty much premises i want to desperately read but no one has written them (like fine i'll do it myself) and i've gotten a good response but i’m a slow writer so i haven't written everything i want to write. thank you for everything you’ve written laura!

I don't mind at all anon, I have added your second ask too <3 Sorry this ended up being a lengthy reply. I love that we can yap about the bottom or omega Max agenda though 😂

I started writing maybe about two years ago and at the time a lot of the Lestappen stories were definitely bottom Charles and omega Charles. I started writing because a little bit like yourself there was some stuff I wanted to read that didn't exist so I just wrote it myself. At the time I had no clue how to write but I have hopefully improved over the past couple years! I was just desperate for there to be some more soft Max or Max being looked after and cared for. I just think Max doesn't get enough love and there can never be enough fics where it's pointed out just how hot he is!

I also like the idea of sexy, hot alpha Charles and think it's fun to not always see him in that 'babygirl' role if that makes sense. Although I can see why he ends up in that role a lot, he is also very pretty

I used to read a lot of Maxiel for the same reason as yourself, in fact I do still read Maxiel because of that reason and also because there are some very talented writers writing it. (although I also think of Daniel as being quite omega like!)

I definitely agree that there is a lot more bottom and omega Max within the lestappen tag now compared to a couple of year ago.

For me, I like to swap it around. I like to write soft alpha Max and even bottom alpha Max. The main thing for me is that the dynamic works for the story I want to tell. I have started leaning more towards omega Max though because I know that there is plenty of omega Charles out there and there are plenty of people who can write omega Charles much better than I can!!

You are absolutely correct about the comments and kudos thing. Firstly I should say that there are some amazing writers writing some amazing bottom and omega Charles fics that deserve all the love in the world and I am not for one second suggesting that they only have so many responses because of the dynamic but (at least to start with) I found that my omega Charles fics got more kudos than the omega Max ones. That might have just been a coincidence but when I start writing a story I know it will get more attention if I write it with the omega Charles dynamic. I'm not for one second suggesting that that is what people are thinking about btw, it's just a fact I have noticed with my own work. These days I just write what I like and hope some other people like it. If I ranked my fics by kudos they definitely wouldn't be in quality order so I don't worry about that now 😂

Like you have said, everyone should write what they like as it's all for fun. I am just glad there are other people out there reading and writing bottom/omega Max or even just Max getting the love and attention he deserves.

I will read top Max and I enjoy top Max. The only Max fics I don't like are where the writer clearly doesn't like Max and is making him unnecessarily aggressive or just making him the butt of the joke in a mean way. I prefer to read Lestappen when I can tell that the writer likes both of them if that makes sense (obviously people have a favourite but that's different. )

The content warning for the bottom Max fics made me giggle. I don't know what context that was in as I didn't see the post but it definitely made me laugh. Maybe it needs a content warning because its likely to alter your brain chemistry and you'll not be able to see him topping again 😂

I will always write some bottom Charles and some omega Charles because it just works in certain contexts for me but I have felt myself leaning more towards the other dynamic. Hopefully most people don't mind because there are so many Lestappen writers these days so there is definitely plenty of omega Charles to chose from.

I am shocked there is not more Omega Max x Omega Charles though as that seems to fit quite well.

Sorry, I totally rambled there but I am a huge lover of omega and bottom Max and always will be. I am also a huge lover of Max being treated nicely and softly and getting all the attention and affection in the world.

[sakascal]

All Love's Luxuries

It's finally here! I did it! I finished my first E rated story and posted it. Yesterday, in fact, but then I ran out of time and couldn't blog about it anymore.

This is a direct follow-up to With Her as Our Witness.

Summary: Aziraphale is back from Heaven, and they had finally had a good talk. And made out in the Bentley. But the Bentley really isn't the place for a good first time, especially not when you've been waiting for thousands of years and - okay, so Crowley would have been fine with the Bentley. But Aziraphale wants to go somewhere more comfortable, and if there is one thing Crowley always tries to do, it's to give Aziraphale whatever he wants.

CW/tags: smut, fluff, explicit sex, some snake traits (hissing, teeth), Crowley POV

17k words (all in one chapter, because I couldn't find a good point to split it into two chapters), all of it fluff, banter and smut. This one definitely earned its E rating!

Appreciation/Thank yous: A big thank you to you lovely people of Whickber Street Writer's Association (@whickberstreetwriters, love you people!) and especially my lovely beta readers who really helped me polish this up and made it so much better than it would have been otherwise: @playdohangel, @azeutreciathewicked, @springofviolets, @angie-words, @rofell.

Also, thank you, @ines2925, for your wonderful feedback and insight when I asked for help with my very first cover!

As always, kudos, comments and shares are very welcome and appreciated!

Excerpt

“Not here.” Crowley snorted and grabbed Aziraphale by the waistband, pulling him along. “Come with me.”

He led him through the plant room and took a left to his bedroom.

“Glass wall? Where is the door?” came the incredulous voice from behind.

“It’s stylish, angel.”

“It’s also very… open.”

“We made out in the Bentley.” He chuckled as he pulled Aziraphale to stand at the foot of the bed. “Bit late for this now. And there’s no one here but us.”

“The plants are here.”

“Sit.” Crowley lifted an eyebrow in disbelief and pushed Aziraphale to sit down. “The plants can’t see.”

“They can hear.”

“As can the Bentley,” he said with a huff, and pushed Aziraphale’s legs apart with his foot. “As I remember, we were making some quite lewd noises earlier.”

Oh, this time he could watch the blush spread down his chest. How adorable. And hot. And yet he knew that the smile that was spreading over his face - against his wish - was nothing but adoring.

He held Aziraphale’s face gently in his hands and placed a soft kiss on those stunned lips.

“Look, I’m sure she didn’t care. Didn’t she try to encourage us to continue? And the plants are used to all kinds of noises from me,” he told the angel pointedly.

“Oh.” Aziraphale looked around as if he was only properly seeing the bedroom now. Crowley watched with interest as his fingers slid over his sheets, feeling them. “You have– uh, in here?”

“Just this morning.” Crowley sank to his knees and winked at his angel. “Thinking of you.”

Read on AO3

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

🐴Chapter summary: Everything is good, you and Jimin are happy, and you finally have everything you’ve always dreamed of. 🐴Chapter title: This Perfect Day 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: pet names, unprotected sex; public sex (they do it in a cattle truck parked at the side of the road), oral: blowjob, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, breast play, nipple play, a lot of kissing, creampie, cockwarming, hair pulling, marking, a lot of sexual tension again, praise kink, dirty talk and fluff. 🐴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 💿 “Say You’re Mine” by Kate Voegele. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: as I’m writing this note, I’m going to post chapter 6. I still feel very discouraged to post… I love the few of you who have taken time out to comment and reblog with nice words— truly 🥹 but the engagement (notes/kudos) are just not what they used to. I’m at that place where I’m thinking about not posting anymore, at all. Like posting gives me this horrible feeling? Like seeing 30 notes, when I used to get 200-300 😭 I know I’m complaining, and I don’t usually do this, but I’m gonna address it. I’m a firm believer in, if something doesn’t give you something good, but instead something bad, drop it. So, there’s a very high chance that this series will be my last in a while. I can’t speak for the future— I’m still gonna write, because that truly gives me so much joy, I’m just not gonna share it (at the moment). Maybe later, when I feel better about it. And maybe I’ll change my mind, who knows? But right now, I don’t feel good about posting this series, and it’s hard, because I love it so fucking much, but I know it’s not for everyone… but yeah, anyway, I’ll crawl back to the whole I came from. Happy reading! 🌸

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

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

“This day, this perfect dayPeace, peace at lastLove blurs, love blurs my eyesAnd my heart is in your hands” - ‘This Perfect Day’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Everywhere you turn, the faint scent of roses dances in the air, infusing your senses with a vitality that makes you feel truly alive. Vibrant hues burst forth like a kaleidoscope, saturating both your canvas and the world around you. Everything feels harmoniously perfect, as if the universe itself is painting a masterpiece just for you.

Jessi has outlined the urgency of relocating the cattle to a more accessible paddock closer to home, which is essential before they’re auctioned off in just a few days. You’re gearing up for a daunting cattle muster that she warns could stretch into days of hard work. Uncertain of the necessities for an extended cattle drive, you pack cautiously, opting for practicality with spare underwear and shirts. The thought of wearing the same attire doesn’t bother you, so long as you can avoid the sweat and grime that comes with the task ahead.

Ha-rin whirls around the kitchen, a flurry of activity as she ensures there’s ample sustenance for the journey ahead. With a mix of urgency and precision, she assembles sandwiches, packs canned goods, and meticulously stores vegetables in containers and bags, her determination evident in every swift movement. As Ha-rin meticulously organizes the provisions, the rest of your group converge in the barn, your footsteps echoing against the wooden floor as you prepare the horses for the journey ahead. With a shared sense of purpose, you check the gear, tighten the saddles, and ensure each steed is ready for the long ride ahead.

You step into Mikrokosmos’ stall, enveloping her in a heartfelt embrace, relieved beyond measure to have her safely back in her stall. Gratitude wells up within you for Jimin’s unwavering assistance in locating her, a debt you can never fully repay. The day after you got Mikrokosmos home, Jessi and Jungkook went out and collected the rest of the horses safely back home.

“Hey girl, we’re going out for a ride for a few days,” you murmur softly to Mikrokosmos, your touch reassuring as she responds with a gentle whinny, conveying her understanding. Guiding her out of the stall, you lead her into the heart of the bustling barn, each step resonating with the anticipation of the journey ahead. Alongside Ara, Soo-ah, and Jessi, you all prepare your trusted companions for the expedition, a united front in ensuring Ha-rin’s horse is also equipped for the ride too.

“Ah, these long cattle drives are pure magic,” Ara exclaims, her voice dancing with infectious enthusiasm, as if her joy is a melody eager to be sung.

Soo-ah trails behind, her voice edged with a hint of disdain. “I swear, these drives are a literal pain in the ass. Who wants to endure days of saddle soreness? Not me, that’s for damn sure.”

You chuckle, a shared understanding passing between you and Soo-ah. Memories of your last cattle drive flood back, the discomfort of countless hours in the saddle still fresh in your mind.

With an exaggerated eye roll, Jessi strides out of the barn, leading Cinnamon by the reins. Meanwhile, the rest of you hustle to prepare your horses for the cattle drive ahead.

Efficiently, you outfit Mikrokosmos, ensuring she’s well-prepared for the trek ahead with saddle bags stocked full of essentials. As you complete the task, you notice Ara and Soo-ah wrapping up their own preparations. With your horses in tow, including an additional one for Ha-rin, you step outside to rendezvous with your sister.

As the four of you guide your horses down to the house, eagerly awaiting Ha-rin’s arrival with provisions to load into your saddle bags, anticipation thrums in your veins, heightened by the prospect of reuniting with Jimin soon. You’ve all agreed to lend a hand, recognizing the value of teamwork when it comes to managing the cattle. Just the thought of Jimin’s presence sets your heart aflutter – his warm brown eyes, his infectious smile, and the reassuring strength of his frame. Your mind drifts to his robust physique, envisioning the comforting embrace of his arms, the definition of his biceps, the warmth of his hands, and—

“Voila!” Ha-rin bursts out of the house, her arms laden with bags brimming with an assortment of provisions. With a cheerful efficiency, she distributes the supplies among the group, and you deftly pack the essentials into the two saddlebags snugly nestled beneath Mikrokosmos’ saddle.

With a synchronized grace, you each swing into the saddle and set off in a spirited gallop towards the Bell Ranch. The journey, though brief, is a symphony of exhilaration, the wind tousling your hair as if in playful dance, while the sky overhead paints a magnificent canvas of fiery reds and warm golden hues, igniting the landscape with a vibrant energy.

As the ranch emerges into view, your gaze fixates on the figures in the yard, each poised atop their horses. Yet amidst the group, your attention is magnetically drawn to Jimin. Clad in his signature simplicity—a crisp white t-shirt, weathered denim trousers, and beloved boots—he exudes a rugged charm that’s both timeless and alluring. But it’s his eyes that hold you captive, sparkling with a depth of emotion, perhaps even a hint of desire, while his smile, radiant and genuine, seems to illuminate the entire landscape, a beacon of warmth and affection reserved solely for you.

As you approach him astride Mikrokosmos, you offer a warm greeting, “Hey there.”

You lean in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss, momentarily oblivious to the playful banter and catcalls from the others, a shared chuckle escaping both of you amidst the uproar.

“Hey, babe,” he breathes out, his voice breathless and his gaze lingering on your lips. You can’t help but nibble on your own, a nervous habit in the wake of his overwhelming presence. It’s astonishing how effortlessly he stirs something deep within you with just a simple kiss. Memories flood your mind, recalling the intense moments shared with Jimin during your recent escapade in the wilderness. Now, amidst the chatter of friends and the anticipation of another adventure, you can’t help but wonder if this time will be different, if the chemistry between you two will ignite once more, maybe with less action, because that would truly be weird in front of everybody.

As your horses amble lazily forward, Jimin’s hand finds yours, fingers intertwining seamlessly. The simple act sends a jolt of warmth coursing through you, a silent promise of companionship amidst the vast expanse of the open landscape.

“Are we all ready?” Jessi’s voice cuts through the anticipation, her gaze sweeping over the assembled group, met with a chorus of affirmations.

“Alright, team. Remember the drill: keep it smooth and stress-free,” Jessi’s voice rings out with authority, her grip tightening on the reins as she guides Cinnamon into a purposeful trot. “Our herd’s a day’s ride east-west from here. Let’s make it count.”

With a silent nod to Jimin, you release his hand, urging Mikrokosmos into a spirited gallop. Together, you and Jimin form the rear of your group, a silent understanding passing between you. As you ride, you catch sight of Yoongi and Hoseok up ahead, their easy friendship evident in their smiles and hushed conversation. Mental notes flutter through your mind, a reminder to inquire about their date with Yoongi later on.

As the sun climbs to its zenith, you ride on until the familiar call for a break echoes through the air, signaling a pause for rest and sustenance. Settling down beside Jimin, his presence a comforting anchor beside you, you lean gently into the solidity of his frame, finding solace in the warmth he radiates.

The horses graze on the tender grass, luxuriating in their well-deserved respite, and you take a moment to replenish yourself with cool water and nourishing sustenance, feeling the energy seep back into your weary limbs with each sip and bite.

“How are you feeling?” Jimin’s gentle inquiry envelops you like a warm embrace, his eyes brimming with genuine concern and a flicker of something deeper, stirring a flutter of desire in the pit of your stomach.

You chuckle softly, the sound mingling with the refreshing gulp of water as you tilt the bottle to your lips. “My ass might be protesting a bit,” you admit with a grin, “but I’m holding up just fine.”

His laughter rumbles through the air, deep and rich, setting off a cascade of warmth in your chest. As you nibble on your food, you find yourself drawn into his orbit, the rest of the world fading into the background. In that moment, it’s just you and Jimin, lost in your own little universe.

With satisfied bellies and renewed spirits, you mount your horses once more, urging them into a swift gallop that carries you over hills and across vast stretches of open land towards the waiting cattle. The wind whips through your hair, and the rhythm of your horse’s hooves against the earth is like a steady drumbeat propelling you forward.

As the sky transforms into a mesmerizing palette of pinks and purples, resembling a scene straight from your own paintings back home, you can’t help but marvel at nature’s artistry. Despite the long hours in the saddle and the fact that your ass is sore as hell, your determination fuels your journey, and at last, you catch sight of the cattle grazing on the horizon. Relief washes over you like a gentle breeze, a welcome respite after a long day’s journey in the saddle.

With the sun dipping low and casting long shadows, Jessi’s voice cuts through the rustle of hooves and the low murmurs of the cattle. “That’s it for today. We’ll set up camp and drive them back tomorrow,” she announces firmly, reining Cinnamon to a halt near the herd before dismounting gracefully. Her words signal the end of the day's journey, a welcome respite from the endless expanse of the range. As she steps down, the rest of the group follows suit, each rider swinging their legs over their horses and joining her on solid ground.

Unrolling your sleep mat and spreading out your blanket, you relish the freedom of sleeping beneath the vast expanse of the open sky. Tents seem suffocating in this sweltering heat, offering little respite from the relentless sun. Out here, under the celestial canopy, you feel a connection to the land and the stars above, finding solace in the simplicity of nature’s embrace.

Nestling your sleeping mat beside Jimin’s, you relish the closeness, finding comfort in the warmth of your boyfriend. Nearby, the others spread out their mats, creating a sense of friendship beneath the sprawling sky. Jungkook and your sister, too, opt for closeness, aligning their mats side by side, fostering bonds in the quietude of the outdoors.

Your group settles in for dinner, and Soo-ah interjects with a playful yet stern warning, her laughter echoing through the gathering. “If I hear so much as a moan from any of you guys,” she jests, brandishing her flashlight like a beacon of authority, “I’ll expose you with my flashlight!” Her eyes twinkle mischievously as she scans the circle, her tone a blend of admonition and amusement.

“I swear on every star in this sky, I would never do that!” You practically shriek, your voice rising in horror, eliciting a hearty laugh from Jimin beside you. His touch on the small of your back sends a wave of warmth through you, grounding and reassuring as you banter with the group.

Soo-ah’s stare pierces through the playful banter, her eyes holding a hint of mischief and warning. “It’s not you I’m worried about,” she says with a sternness that cuts through the laughter.

Her gaze shifts to Jungkook and your sister, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes, and suddenly they both burst into laughter, their voices echoing in the evening air like a chorus of mischief.

“He totally doesn’t have any problem with public indecency!” Soo-ah playfully accuses, her finger jabbing in Jungkook's direction amidst his relentless laughter, echoed by your sister’s giggles.

“I’m sorry. I’ll keep it in my pants,” Jungkook quips, his laughter infectious as you share a playful eye roll with your sister. The idea of anything intimate happening out here in the open under the stars, right next to your friends, feels more gross than enticing. No thank you.

Amidst the laughter and banter, you all finish your meal, casting playful glances at Jungkook, who feigns innocence with a grin. With the sky now a canvas of darkness, sprinkled with the brilliance of a thousand stars, you prepare to surrender to the embrace of sleep, a well-earned respite under nature’s celestial canopy.

You glance around, and you notice the girls forming their own cozy enclave, their mats nestled together, sharing whispered secrets and giggles. Yoongi and Hoseok, not too far away, seem to have formed their own pact, their mats positioned snugly side by side. With a gentle distance between each group, the night air is filled with the soft murmur of conversation and friendship. Your sister and Jungkook have already settled down, their figures outlined by the fading light. You shift your focus to Jimin, his presence beside you a comforting anchor amidst the quietude of the night.

You chuckle softly, meeting his expectant gaze as his crooked grin lights up his face. “No funny business,” you playfully jab a finger at his chest, a smile dancing on your lips, the warmth between you palpable in the starlit night.

He chuckles softly before leaning in to kiss you, his lips full of desire, love, and a hint of the roses that aren’t even nearby. His tongue dances with yours, igniting a familiar fire within you. But the reality of your surroundings pulls you back; you’re outside, among friends and family. With a reluctant sigh, you pull away, planting a tender kiss on his cheek before turning around, inviting him to spoon you under the canopy of stars.

You nestle deeper into his embrace, playfully wiggling your hips against his, eliciting a soft chuckle from him. You sense the subtle response of his body against yours, his dick twitching against your ass. His arms envelop you, drawing you close, and you relish in the warmth of his embrace. As his head finds its place in the curve of your neck, you’re enveloped in the comforting scent of his presence, his breath a gentle caress against your skin. A sense of security washes over you as he wraps a leg around your hips, pulling you into an intimate embrace that speaks volumes of love and care.

You drift into slumber cradled in Jimin’s arms, his steady breaths a comforting lullaby against your ear, sending gentle shivers down your spine with each warm exhale. 

As consciousness gradually returns, you blink away the remnants of sleep, greeted by the sight of Yoongi and Hoseok nearby, their figures illuminated by the soft glow of dawn.

“Morning,” Yoongi greets you, a weary smile gracing his lips as he waves a hand in your direction, his silver locks tousled from a night spent under the stars. With a hint of fatigue in his eyes, he absentmindedly runs his fingers through his hair. Hoseok follows suit with a wave, attempting to suppress a yawn behind his hand, signaling the slow transition from sleep to wakefulness.

The girls stir from their slumber, and you glance over to catch your sister and Jungkook sharing soft laughter, still nestled in their blankets. Returning your focus to your boyfriend, a fond smile tugs at your lips as you watch him peacefully asleep, admiring the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest with each steady breath.

With a stretch and a yawn, your sister breaks the morning silence. “Morning, everyone. Let’s grab some breakfast and get to it,” she suggests, her voice carrying a hint of determination.

You nod in agreement, your focus shifting to the still-sleeping Jimin beside you. Gently, you lay a hand on his chest, giving him a soft nudge, urging him to wake up and join the day’s activities.

He slowly stirs beneath you, his eyes fluttering open, he greets you with a warm, sleep-laden smile. “What’s up, love?”

With a tender smile, your cheeks tinged with a hint of pink, you reply, “We have to get to work, but food first.”

He rises from his slumber, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the sun-drenched landscape, basking in the warmth of the morning sun.

Amidst fatigue, you rally, rummaging through your saddle bags to retrieve the sustenance you stashed away. With weariness tugging at your limbs, you replenish your energy reserves, fortifying yourself for the task ahead: herding the cattle back home.

Swiftly devouring your meal, you swiftly equip your horses once more, preparing for the labor ahead. With practiced efficiency, you and your friends align, forming a protective barrier around the cattle, guiding them homeward with a synchronized grace.

As you ride alongside Jimin, your eyes playfully dart towards each other, sharing secret smiles amidst the task at hand. A gentle chuckle escapes your lips as you catch sight of Yoongi up ahead, with Soo-ah accompanying him, their friendship evident even from a distance.

“I need to have a word with Yoongi. I’ll be back in a moment,” you inform Jimin, urging your horse forward to catch up with Yoongi. As you draw near, Yoongi’s eyes meet yours, a welcoming smile gracing his lips, signaling his readiness to listen.

“Hey there,” you greet them with a chuckle, offering a nod to both Yoongi and Soo-ah.

“You just couldn’t wait any longer, could you?” He teases with a laugh, his tone carrying a playful undertone.

“Nope, couldn’t wait a second longer,” you reply with a grin, your curiosity piqued. “So, spill it. How did the date go?” You flash a knowing smile, eager for all the juicy details, your excitement barely contained.

As his laughter fills the air, you catch the subtle shift of Soo-ah’s attention, her gaze now fixed on your exchange, her curiosity piqued by the laughter.

“It went well. We have another date next week,” he replies, his smile adorned with a hint of bashfulness, the faint flush on his cheeks betraying his otherwise cool demeanor.

“I knew it. I knew Hoseok liked you!” You exclaim gleefully, punctuating your words with a playful smack on his arm, teasing him with a grin. Soo-ah, beside Yoongi, appears taken aback by the sudden revelation.

“Hoseok?” Soo-ah’s voice wavers, tinged with a hint of sadness. It hits you like a ton of bricks — fuck, you'd forgotten that she harbored feelings for him too.

“Wait, you went on a date with Hoseok?” Soo-ah’s voice quivers with disbelief, her tone laced with a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

Yoongi simply nods, his expression weary, as if he’s exhausted from the weight of hiding his emotions for so long.

Soo-ah’s shoulders sag with disappointment, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. However, her expression quickly shifts, and she manages to muster a bright smile for Yoongi. “Well, I’m genuinely happy for you,” she says, her voice masking any hint of her inner turmoil.

“Any details you want to share?” You prod, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you nudge him playfully.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Sorry to disappoint you, but it was pretty tame. Just dinner and a beer, nothing juicy to share,” he replies with a grin.

You chuckle softly, noticing the subtle blush coloring his cheeks. Despite his reluctance to share, you offer a supportive nod, respecting his privacy. After all, some stories are meant to be savored in silence.

“I’ll head back to Jimin,” you announce with a grin, earning a playful eye roll from Yoongi, accompanied by his laughter.

You bring Mikrokosmos to a stop, patiently waiting for Jimin to catch up. As he approaches, his hand instinctively seeks yours, and he leans in, stealing a swift yet tender kiss.

“Yoongi told me his date with Hoseok went good,” you share with a wide grin, still basking in the lingering sweetness of Jimin’s kiss.

His voice filled with a tender mix of love and adoration, he asks, “Hm. That’s good. Do you want to go on a date with me next week?” Your heart swells as you can’t help but smile, nodding your head eagerly. 

“Yes, of course.” 

“What’s all this about a date?” Jungkook suddenly appears beside you, causing you to chuckle at his unexpected arrival.

“How about a double date at our place?” Jungkook suggests, his smirk stretching wide across his face. You roll your eyes at his typical suggestion, knowing that he’s always one for a group outing. It’s not that you’re opposed to the idea of a double date; it’s just that you were hoping for some alone time with Jimin.

Jimin remains silent, his eyes fixed on you, waiting for your reaction, his gaze a mixture of anticipation and curiosity, silently urging you to respond.

“Alright, we’re in,” you agree, albeit reluctantly, to Jungkook’s proposal, offering a small smile that masks your slight disappointment at the change of plans. Nevertheless, you reassure yourself that it might turn out to be enjoyable after all.

“Cool, I’ll tell Jessi,” he remarks with a grin before trotting off toward Jessi, who’s leading the cattle atop Cinnamon, their faithful horse.

You spend the ride beside Jimin, hand in hand, lost in each other’s company until the midday sun prompts a well-deserved break for nourishment. Time flies by, and soon you find yourselves back on Mikrokosmos, herding the cattle homeward once more, the day slipping away in the rhythm of hoofbeats and love.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you find a spot close to a lake to set up camp once more. Dinner is shared, laughter exchanged, and as night falls, you nestle into Jimin’s warm embrace, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a soothing lullaby that guides you into a peaceful slumber.

The morning light filters through the trees, illuminating the campsite, and you’re greeted by the sight of Jimin’s tousled blonde locks, wild and carefree. Your heart dances at the sight, and a tender smile graces your lips as you admire his peaceful slumber. Unable to resist, you lean down and plant a gentle kiss on his cheek, eliciting a soft, contented murmur from him. “Wake up, Jiminie,” you whisper, your voice laced with affection, coaxing him from his dreams.

His eyelids flutter open, and he rubs them gently, allowing the golden rays of the morning sun to filter through and illuminate his irises like shards of amber. Slowly, his gaze shifts, finding you amidst the soft glow of dawn.

“Morning, my love,” he murmurs, lifting himself to meet your lips in a tender embrace, the warmth of his affection melting away the remnants of sleep.

“Morning, babe,” you reply, returning his kiss with equal fervor. Laughter from behind catches your attention, and you glance over to see the girls teasingly sticking out their tongues, playfully mocking your affectionate display. Ignoring their antics, you smirk and pull Jimin in for another kiss, this time with an added hunger, relishing in the closeness you share.

As you part for a breath of air, your sister strolls past, offering a cheerful good morning and casually grabbing some food from one of the saddlebags.

You stretch your arms, letting out a deep yawn. “I really need a shower,” you groan, feeling the stickiness of sweat and dust clinging to your skin after spending over a day in the same clothes. You have a spare set packed away, but it feels inadequate against the persistent grime that seems to have settled into your pores.

“I can fix you a shower,” Jungkook suddenly offers, and you turn your head to look at him in disbelief, surprised by his unexpected suggestion.

“I can make a makeshift shower over that tree. The lake is just over there, so it’s easy to grab water from there,” Jungkook explains casually, his suggestion igniting a spark of excitement in your eyes. You notice the girls also showing interest in the idea, their curiosity piqued by Jungkook’s proposal.

“Count me in too,” Ara chimes in eagerly, stretching her arms over her body as if to emphasize her desire for a refreshing shower.

“Awesome, leave it to me,” Jungkook declares, rising from his sleeping mat with purpose. He swiftly dresses himself and strides over to the nearby tree, where he begins fashioning a makeshift shower using nothing but rope and a tarp, his movements confident and efficient.

After nearly half an hour of focused effort, Jungkook completes the makeshift shower. Its walls are ingeniously constructed from tarp, creating a semblance of privacy amidst the wilderness. The crowning achievement is a homemade bottle with a spraying function rigged overhead—an unexpected touch of luxury in the great outdoors. You can practically feel the anticipation bubbling within you, yearning to shed the grime from your skin beneath the revitalizing cascade of water.

“Done,” Jungkook declares triumphantly, the sound of his hands coming together echoing through the tranquil air as he strides back to join the rest of the group.

“I’ve got first dibs!” You exclaim eagerly, springing to your feet and darting towards the makeshift shower. With a swift motion, you shed your clothes, tossing them aside without a second thought. As you glance around, a moment of uncertainty washes over you, pondering the logistics of obtaining water for your much-needed shower.

“Need water?” Jimin’s voice cuts through the air, his hands deftly carrying a brimming bucket that he expertly empties into the makeshift shower's overhead spray. The frigid cascade catches you by surprise, eliciting a startled shriek as the chilly droplets dance across your skin. Yet, amidst the shock, there’s an immediate sensation of refreshment as the cleansing streams wash away the grime, leaving you feeling revitalized and invigorated.

Jimin’s laughter fills the air, warm and inviting. 

“Mind if I join?” He teases, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he edges closer to the makeshift shower.

With a coy smile, you welcome Jimin into the makeshift shower, relishing the warmth of his gaze on your bare skin. As you part the tarp to invite him in, his eyes flicker with desire, and he sheds his boxers without hesitation.

As the water envelops both of you, your arms wrap around his waist, drawing him nearer. His lips meet yours in a tender kiss, igniting a passionate flame within you. Your bodies meld together seamlessly, your curves pressing against his firm form, sending waves of desire coursing through your veins.

You sense the growing hardness of his dick with each kiss, sending a surge of desire coursing through you. Your fingers itch to explore him, to feel him completely. A soft moan escapes your lips, mingling with a playful chuckle, as the intensity between you builds with each passing moment.

“We can hear you, and we can also see your legs,” Soo-ah’s playful voice interrupts, snapping you both back to reality. You share a knowing chuckle with Jimin, exchanging soft glances as her words burst your intimate bubble.

“Sorry!” You giggle, the lingering cold of the shower contrasting with the warm breeze on your skin as you step out, reaching for the towels Jimin has laid out on the grass. With a shared smile, you both quickly dry off, the urgency fueled by the anticipation of the day ahead, and eagerly slip into fresh clothes.

As the rest of the gang takes their turn in the makeshift shower, you all gather around to enjoy a quick meal before gearing up once more, ready to mount your horses and continue your journey.

You and Jimin reclaim the rear position, and you deliberately allow your horses to amble along, relishing the chance to intertwine your fingers while riding. His touch is reassuringly warm, his grip firm yet gentle, each calloused fingertip igniting a trail of desire along your skin, teasing your imagination with the countless ways he could use those hands to explore your body’s every curve and contour.

Despite the lingering soreness in your ass from the cattle muster, you eagerly swing onto Mikrokosmos’s back, feeling the rush of adrenaline as you urge her into a spirited gallop toward Bell Ranch.

As the relentless heat of summer refuses to bid farewell, the sun’s gentle embrace envelops your skin, warming you as Mikrokosmos dashes freely across the undulating hills, her hooves kicking up dust in her wake.

You guide Mikrokosmos into the yard with a sense of exhilaration, her powerful strides carrying you effortlessly forward. As you approach, your eyes fixate on Jimin, completely absorbed in his task within the barn where they store their heavy machinery. There he is, amidst the rustic charm, skillfully maneuvering the circular wood cutting machine wearing a white tank top and jeans, each motion a testament to his craftsmanship and dedication.

You rein in Mikrokosmos, bringing her to a graceful halt, and swiftly dismount, securing her reins to a nearby post. With purposeful steps, you make your way across the yard, drawn like a magnet to Jimin’s industrious figure within the barn’s dim confines.

You step into the barn, silently observing Jimin as he remains absorbed in his task, oblivious to your arrival. Beads of sweat glisten on his honey-toned skin, tracing a path down his taut muscles, each drop a testament to his exertion. His movements are fluid, almost mesmerizing, as he deftly handles the wood, cutting with precision and ease. With each motion, you find yourself drawn deeper into his world, captivated by the rhythm of his work and the raw strength he exudes. With a deft hand, he seizes a piece of wood, his movements graceful yet powerful as he guides it to the cutting blade. With a swift and practiced motion, he slices through the wood, the sound of the machine blending with the rhythm of his actions. Discarding the finished piece, he seamlessly transitions to the next, the cycle repeating in an entrancing dance of productivity and precision.

As you approach him, his focus shifts from the task at hand to your presence, his head lifting abruptly to meet your gaze. In an instant, his expression softens, a warm smile spreading across his face, like the sun breaking through clouds. With a click, he switches off the wood cutter, his attention now fully on you.

“Hi, babe,” he greets, his voice a soft melody that reaches you even before your arms encircle him. Drawing near, you feel the warmth of his embrace, pressing your cheek against his shoulder and collarbones, inhaling deeply, the musky scent of him enveloping you, stirring something deep within.

His tank top clings damply to his skin, evidence of his hard work, but you pay it no mind, only seeking to hold him closer against you, craving the comfort and intimacy of his embrace.

“Hi, love,” you whisper, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze, your heart fluttering at the sight of his deep, soulful brown eyes—fuck, you’ll never get enough of those. Each glance a magnetic pull, drawing you in deeper with every heartbeat.

He leans in, his lips tenderly meeting yours in a sweet, lingering kiss that ignites a fire within you, every touch of his breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. As he pulls back ever so slightly, you let out a soft moan of contentment, the taste of him still lingering on your lips. With a gentle touch, he brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face, his eyes locking onto yours with a depth that speaks volumes without a single word.

“What are you doing here?” His voice carries a note of curiosity as he brushes away another stray lock of hair, eliciting a soft chuckle from you as his fingertips dance lightly across your skin, sending delightful tingles down your spine.

“I just came to see how you’re doing,” you tease, punctuating your words with a playful tongue poke, earning a smirk from him in return.

“You could have just called, you know,” he chuckles, stepping back from your embrace and reaching for another piece of wood, his grin playful yet warm, inviting you into his world of labor and laughter.

“But then I wouldn’t get to see you, dummy,” you retort, sticking your tongue out again, your playful banter punctuated by a mischievous grin. Jimin, with a smirk dancing on his lips, saunters over to you, his gaze locking onto yours, and as he nears, he moistens his lips in anticipation.

“Did you just call me ‘dummy’?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement, one eyebrow arching in playful disbelief as he stands mere inches from you, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, creating an intimate closeness that sends another shiver down your spine.

You nod your head, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you tease him further, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip in a playful gesture, daring him to respond.

He groans softly, his hands finding your hips before boldly trailing down your back, his fingers gripping your ass firmly. “Sweetheart, do I need to teach you a lesson on manners?” He murmurs into your ear, his warm breath sending delightful shivers down your spine, a rush of desire flooding through you, making your panties damp with lust. Fuck.

You bite down on your lip, attempting to stifle a moan, but it escapes nonetheless, betraying the intense desire coursing through you. Jimin’s chuckle only adds fuel to the fire, and as he withdraws from your trembling figure, you’re left practically quivering with need. Damn it, you want him so badly that your entire body feels like it’s on the verge of trembling apart.

“But not now. I’m working,” he adds, and you feel a wave of disappointment wash over you, visible even in the slight slump of your shoulders. When he notices, a chuckle escapes him, softening the blow of his refusal with his infectious laughter.

“I’m building a new shed to store more wood outside. You can help if you want, or I could teach you how to do it?” He offers, a glint of excitement in his eyes, eager to share his passion with you and maybe steal a few moments of closeness amidst the work.

You’ve never built anything like that, and the thought of handling power tools sends a thrill of nervous excitement down your spine. The challenge looms large, but so does the opportunity to learn and share this experience with Jimin. It’s a leap into the unknown, but one you’re willing to take.

“You don’t have to,” he reassures you, his focus shifting back to the piece of wood he’s positioned in front of the cutter. You observe intently as he maneuvers the machine with practiced precision, the rhythmic hum of the cutter filling the air, the noise is loud, but not deafening. With each measured movement, he effortlessly shapes the wood, a testament to his skill and familiarity with the task at hand. As the newly cut piece falls to the ground, he seamlessly transitions to the next, measuring and drawing a cutting line, and methodically repeating the process. Despite the noise, it's a symphony of craftsmanship, captivating you in its symmetrical dance of creation.

As you watch him work, a sense of admiration washes over you. His movements, though skilled, seem approachable, almost inviting. You find yourself considering the possibility of trying your hand at it too. After all, he did offer to show you the ropes, and the task appears deceptively simple. Perhaps it's time to step out of your comfort zone and give it a shot.

“I wanna try,” you announce as he reaches for another piece of wood. His smile widens, and with a playful glint in his eye, he retrieves something from his back pocket.

“Here, put these on,” he says, offering you a pair of light blue working gloves. You slip them on, feeling a sense of readiness as you prepare to tackle the task ahead, your hands now shielded from the rough wood.

With a gentle yet firm grip on your hips, he guides you to stand in front of him and positions you facing the wood cutting machine, strategically placed atop a trailer.

With his warm, perspiring body pressed against your back, your heart races at the proximity, urging you to concentrate. Keep your mind on the task at hand, you remind yourself, feeling the electric charge between you intensify with every passing moment. Fucking focus!

“See, I’ve already drawn the cutting line,” he explains, guiding your hands to rest firmly on either side of the wooden plank. His touch is reassuring, his voice steady as he ensures each step is understood. “Place your hands here and here,” he continues, his fingers gently aligning yours with precision, emphasizing the importance of proper positioning for a precise and level cut.

His warm breath tickles your neck, sending shivers down your spine, igniting a fiery desire within you. His closeness is intoxicating, drawing you further into the moment as he instructs you on the next steps. “Then,” he murmurs softly, his voice sending ripples of anticipation through you, “lift your right hand from the wood, place it on the machine, and push in those two buttons.”

You shoot him a quizzical glance, uncertain if you’re meant to activate the machine at this moment. His gaze meets yours, reassuring and confident, urging you to trust in the process.

“Go ahead,” he encourages, his voice a gentle nudge to embolden your actions. You tentatively raise your hand, fingers hovering over the buttons as you absorb his instructions. With a steady resolve, you press both buttons simultaneously, unleashing the machine’s mechanical symphony. The blade whirls into action with a powerful hum, its motion mirroring the adrenaline coursing through your veins. In that moment, you’re not just operating a machine; you're wielding a newfound sense of capability and strength. As you release the buttons, the machine obediently falls silent, echoing the ebb of your exhilaration.

“Wow, that was fun,” you exclaim, your voice infused with a newfound zest. The rush of operating the machine courses through your veins, leaving you feeling invigorated and empowered.

“Try cutting the wood then,” he whispers in your ear, his hands still gently resting on your hips. With a determined nod, you place your hand back on the machine’s handlebar, feeling a surge of confidence. You press the buttons to activate the machine, and then, with a steady hand, you guide the blade down into the piece of wood, slicing through it effortlessly.

Amidst the noisy whirl of the blade slicing through the wood, you maintain focus, feeling a thrill as the machine swiftly does its work. With unpracticed precision, you raise the blade back up, releasing the buttons as the machine powers down, leaving behind a cleanly cut piece of wood.

“I did it!” You exclaim triumphantly, spinning around, your heart dancing with the joy of your small victory. Jimin doesn’t hesitate; he pulls you close, his kiss both fervent and hungry, brimming with unbridled passion. His tongue intertwines with yours, igniting a fiery dance that sweeps you away, your body yielding to his tender embrace.

He then draws back, fixing you with an intense gaze that sends a surge of electricity through your veins. “Fuck. My girlfriend is hot,” he breathes out, his words laced with raw desire.

You chuckle softly, feeling the warmth of his lips pressing urgently against yours, his hands guiding you back against the trailer. With a gentle thud, the piece of wood falls to the ground behind you, forgotten in the heat of the moment.

“You’re distracting me,” he chuckles, his lips still grazing yours as he tries to steal more kisses, his desire evident in the urgency of his touch.

You chuckle, feeling lightheaded and dizzy with love, “My bad,” you reply, unable to suppress the grin spreading across your face.

You pull away from him, a spark of determination lighting up your eyes, “Mind if I give it another shot?”

He chuckles softly, stepping aside to let you take the lead. You position yourself in front of the machine, eager to try again. As you secure a new piece of wood, you reach for the ruler, a glint of determination in your eyes. “Any specific length for this one?”

“250 centimeters,” he replies, his hands finding their place on your hips once more, offering both guidance and support. With a pencil in hand, you prepare to mark the wood, a shared moment of collaboration and trust unfolding between you.

With meticulous care, you measure and mark the wood, ensuring precision with each stroke of the pencil. Placing the piece under the blade, aligning it precisely with the drawn line, you're poised for a flawless cut, a testament to your growing confidence and skill.

With a firm grip, you engage the machine, its hum filling the air as the blade descends upon the wood with controlled force. A surge of exhilaration courses through you, an electric thrill as you master the machinery. Discarding the severed wood, your gaze finds Jimin, his eyes reflecting admiration and pride in your newfound prowess.

His lips find yours again, igniting a fiery hunger that blazes between you. In the heat of the moment, your senses heighten, and you feel the undeniable urgency in his kiss. As you deepen the embrace, your attention is drawn to the subtle bulge pressing against his pants.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes flickering open with a mix of frustration and desire. A frustrated hiss escapes his lips as he runs a hand through his tousled hair, a telltale sign of his inner turmoil. “I can’t focus on work when you look this fucking sexy while handling power tools,” he admits, his voice laden with longing and a hint of exasperation.

You burst out laughing, unable to contain the warmth that floods your cheeks at his compliment. “Me? Sexy?” you tease, though his words ignite a flutter of excitement within you. Without hesitation, you pounce on him, straddling his waist, and eagerly capturing his lips in a passionate kiss, the intensity of your desire palpable in the air.

He embraces you fiercely, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that mirrors your own. Every touch, every kiss, ignites a fire within you, a burning desire that consumes your thoughts. You ache for him with an intensity that borders on desperation, fuck, you just want him so fucking bad.

“You know this is dangerous, right?” His words cut through the haze of desire, injecting a note of caution into the charged atmosphere. Confusion clouds your features as you meet his gaze, searching for understanding in the depths of his eyes.

“For me. Watching you work. It’s better if I work and you watch me. You can hand me wood,” his words carry a hint of playful warning, a reminder of the tantalizing allure between you, tempered by the practicality of safety. His touch, firm yet tender, ignites a playful spark as he teases, his fingers tracing the curve of your ass and giving it a soft squeeze, eliciting a laugh from deep within you.

You mull over his words, acknowledging the undeniable heat between you, the pulsing reminder of his erection against your pussy. It's a tantalizing distraction, one that could compromise the task at hand. Yet, a mischievous thought flits through your mind—perhaps a break wouldn’t hurt, a stolen moment to quench the fiery desire that simmers between you.

“Sounds like a good idea. But don’t you think you deserve a break?” You tease, puckering your lips and fluttering your lashes, a playful pout softening your features. His laughter ripples through the air, but beneath it, you sense his internal tug-of-war, caught between yielding to temptation and persevering with the task at hand.

“Babe, I really want to take a break, but I really need to get this done,” he confesses, his eyes holding a hint of regret, yet his smile remains as radiant as ever. Unable to resist, you lean in, your lips seeking solace in the warmth of his, a silent reassurance of your unwavering support amidst his obligations.

Somewhat disappointed, yet empathetic, you release a soft sigh. “I understand. I can always ravish you later. Let me lend a hand with the wood. Perhaps we’ll finish faster that way, right?” You offer with a playful grin, eager to ease his burden while secretly anticipating the reward awaiting you both.

“Yeah, thank you,” he murmurs appreciatively as you hop down from his waist, returning to your position behind Jimin to assist with the wood. A twinge of sadness pricks at your heart, knowing he’s pushing through his arousal, but you respect his decision nonetheless.

You two make a seamless team, with you swiftly grabbing pieces of wood for him, Jimin expertly measuring and cutting, and then passing the cut wood to you. This rhythmic dance continues until every plank is neatly sliced, a testament to your combined effort and harmony.

Exhaling with a mix of exhaustion and amusement, you reach for Jimin’s water bottle resting on a nearby bench, taking grateful swigs of the refreshing liquid. “Phew, this is hard work,” you chuckle, wiping the sweat from your brow as you catch your breath.

Jimin’s laughter resonates beside you, his eyes dancing with lust and amusement as he observes a few stray water droplets trickling down your throat, bypassing your eager lips.

“Now I get why you’re so muscular,” you remark with a playful chuckle, reaching out to give his taut biceps a playful squeeze.

His laughter fills the air, infectious and heartwarming, much like the man himself.

As the dust kicks up behind you, you’re grateful for Jimin’s company on this journey to the auction to buy new cattle. Though the cattle aren’t his, he’s by your side, sharing in the excitement and anticipation. You navigate the rented cattle truck together with Jimin at the wheel, the road stretching out before you.

“Do you know what kind of cattle you want to buy?” Jimin’s question cuts through the rumble of the truck’s engine, his eyes fixed ahead on the dusty road, but his attention fully on you.

“I’ve got this note from Jessi,” you confess with a chuckle, glancing at the scribbled instructions in your hand. “Honestly, I’m clueless about cattle, so I’m just sticking to this note.” As the trees blur past, a plume of smoke billows from the hood of the truck, and you shoot Jimin a concerned look. “Uh-oh. That can’t be good.”

The truck hiccups and sputters, its engine protesting with a throaty growl, while tendrils of smoke dance across the windshield, blurring your vision like ominous shadows creeping in.

Jimin’s frustration echoes in his groan as he runs a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling in the strands like threads of worry. “The engine’s overheating,” he mutters, his voice tight with annoyance, as if he’s grappling with the machine's stubborn defiance.

You pivot towards Jimin, urgency creasing your brow. “Can you fix it? We can’t afford to miss the auction,” you implore, the weight of the situation pressing down on your words like an anvil.

“I’ll check the radiator fluid once the engine cools down,” Jimin replies, his tone laced with frustration as he guides the truck to the roadside and switches off the engine.

“Shouldn’t we pop the hood or something? Let some steam out?” You suggest, recalling scenes from movies where characters dealt with overheating engines. You wonder why he’s just sitting there, doing nothing.

He shakes his head firmly. “No, that’s a bad idea. The steam can scald you; it’s scorching hot. We’ll wait for the engine to cool down, then we can safely pop the hood and take a look,” he explains, his tone laced with concern for your safety.

“How long should we wait then?” You ask, turning your head to face him fully, a tinge of frustration creeping into your voice. The urgency of reaching the auction on time weighs heavily on your mind, each passing second feeling like a missed opportunity.

“Hmm. About 15 to 30 minutes,” he responds, reclining in the seat, resigned to the unavoidable wait as there’s nothing else to do but watch the clock tick away, each passing minute feeling like an eternity.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and lean in closer to him. “I know what we can do while we wait,” you whisper seductively, your voice dripping with desire as you elongate your words, your eyes locking onto his with a mischievous glint, teasing him with a suggestive raise of your eyebrows.

He chuckles, his gaze already smoldering with desire as he licks his lips hungrily. Following suit, he unbuckles his seatbelt, his anticipation evident in the way his chest rises with each breath. Without hesitation, you climb over the center console, straddling his welcoming thighs. Settling onto one, you press your hands firmly onto his shoulders, locking eyes with him. With a subtle bite to your bottom lip, you release a soft moan, the heat between you palpable as you slowly roll your ass against his thigh.

He emits a low, primal grunt, his gaze a potent mix of adoration, love, and raw desire, his eyes already dilated to their fullest extent.

You press yourself against his thigh with increasing fervor, every movement accompanied by soft, needy sounds escaping your lips, lost in the sensation of seeking out friction and pleasure.

The sensation is exquisite, the fabric teasing your sensitive clit, igniting a primal need for more. Though you crave deeper intimacy, this slow burn is amazing, setting the stage for what’s to come. Your breaths grow ragged, consumed by desire as you lean in for a kiss. It’s a collision of passion, each touch lingering and heavy with longing. As you part for air, a glistening thread of saliva bridges the gap between you.

His gaze is a symphony of longing and adoration, a testament to his insatiable desire for you, mirrored in your own yearning for him. Each glance is a silent declaration of love— you can never get enough of each other.

You plunge into another fervent kiss, your lips melding with his as you continue to undulate your hips against his firm, commanding thigh. The sensation of his muscles flexing beneath you intensifies the already exquisite friction, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. Fuck, this is heaven.

As you throw your head back in ecstasy, your breasts tantalizingly close to his face, a fervent cry escapes your lips, “Fuck, Jimin!”

His hands, once anchored on your hips, now explore the curves of your breasts, their warmth seeping through the fabric of your shirt. “Babe, you’re so hot,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

You moan unabashedly, surrendering to the urgent rhythm, each movement of your hips igniting a wildfire of sensation coursing through your body. With every grind against his thigh, you feel the tension coiling tighter within your core, a symphony of pleasure burning with each passionate roll.

You press your pussy down harder against his thigh, seeking deeper friction, every movement a testament to the raw desire pulsating between you. “Shit, Jimin,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need, “I love you.”

He chuckles softly, his eyes alight with a mix of amusement and adoration as he observes the desperation etched across your face, your lips bitten in fervent desire. With each moan escaping your lips, you seek solace on his thigh, yearning for release. He leans closer, his breath warm against your skin, and gently nips at the sensitive skin of your neck before soothing it with tender licks. Moving to your ear, he whispers in a voice husky with longing, “I love you too.”

As you grind against his thigh, he skillfully teases and caresses your breast, his touch igniting a fiery need within you. Each kiss is passionate, fervent, mirroring the intensity of your desire. Yet, despite the fervor, it’s not enough. You crave more, yearning for every sensation, every moment shared with him, consumed by an insatiable hunger for his touch.

With a flicker of determination, your fingers deftly navigate the clasp of your bra, releasing it with a satisfying click. Jimin’s eyes darken with desire as the fabric falls away, revealing the curves of your bare breasts. Eagerly, he pulls your bra down, his touch igniting sparks of electricity across your skin, before lifting your shirt to expose your naked form.

You tease him, pressing your breasts against his face, feeling the warmth of his breath as he exhales against your skin. With a bold move, he flicks his tongue out, tracing a delicate path along one of your erect nipples. The sensation sends a rush of heat coursing through your body, pooling at the bottom of your panties.

His lips envelop your nipple, creating a tantalizing sensation that ignites every nerve ending in your body. Meanwhile, his deft fingers caress and roll your other nipple, sending electric currents of pleasure coursing through you. The world around you blurs as desire consumes your senses, leaving you feeling feverish and desperate for more. Lost in the intoxicating haze of the moment, you grind your hips against his thigh, seeking greater friction and release. With a breathless moan, you call out his name, your voice laden with longing and desire.

“Jimin-ah!”

You feel so fucking wet and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve soaked through the denim of your pants. But in the heat of the moment, such concerns fade into insignificance, drowned out by the primal urge driving you to grind against him with increasing fervor. 

Jimin’s groan vibrates against your chest, igniting a firestorm of desire within you. With a primal cry, you throw your head back, surrendering to the overwhelming tide of lust threatening to consume you, its intensity nearly palpable in the charged air between you.

Your breaths come in erratic bursts, your voice strained with the intensity of your arousal. “I’m so close,” you gasp, the words escaping between ragged breaths like a desperate plea for release.

His lips part from your breast with a soft, wet sound, only to enclose around the other nipple, his warmth enveloping you in a delicious sensation. A high-pitched moan escapes your lips, the sound echoing in the confined space.

With every roll of your hips, the coil tightens, drawing you closer to the edge until it finally snaps, sending a surge of pleasure coursing through your body. 

As you press your core against his thigh, the warmth spreading, you feel the liquid of your orgasm staining your panties. Panting and frustrated, you huff, the intensity of the moment leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Jimin releases your breast, urgency in his movements as he dives in for a kiss, his hands eagerly pulling your body closer to his, seeking deeper connection and intimacy.

“You’re breathtaking, my love. Watching you lose yourself like that—it’s pure magic,” he whispers, his gaze locked with yours as you catch your breath, cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, a radiant glow emanating from your flushed skin.

With a playful grin, you trail your lips along his neck, leaving a mark of your passion on his warm skin. His laughter mixes with a soft hiss of pleasure, and when you draw back, a crimson imprint adorns his neck.

You lock eyes with him, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper, “Jimin, I want to suck your dick.”

He rakes a hand through his tousled hair, a mix of frustration and desire evident in his gaze. You, with your tempting proposition, ignite a fire within him that he struggles to contain. With a bitten lip, he observes as you gracefully lower yourself into the cabin of the truck, the anticipation palpable in the air. It’s so spacious, so you have no trouble fitting down there.

You watch with a hungered gaze as he spreads his thighs invitingly, a silent invitation you’re more than eager to accept. 

Your fingertips trace the contours of his thighs, feeling the tension beneath his skin, eliciting soft moans from his lips. Your eyes flicker downward, drawn irresistibly to the prominent bulge straining against his pants.

You tease him through the fabric, reveling in the way his body responds to your touch. With a sly grin playing on your lips, you deftly unbuckle his belt, eagerly anticipating the sight that lies beneath. As you unzip his pants, his form is revealed clad in sleek black boxers, igniting a primal desire within you. The hunger to taste him, to feel him against your tongue, intensifies with each passing moment, fueling your anticipation to devour him once more.

With a heated gaze, he eagerly lifts his hips, granting you easier access to unveil his eager cock. You swiftly guide both his pants and boxers down his strong thighs, all the way down to the floor of the truck.

You trace the contours of his scars with tender fingers, your voice barely above a whisper as you admire each mark etched into his skin. “Still so beautiful,” you murmur, your breath mingling with the heated air between you.

His dick springs to life, the head flushed red, proudly standing tall with veins tracing a map of desire on his creamy skin. You lick your lips in anticipation, locking eyes with him as you inch closer to his cock, your gaze ablaze with unmistakable lust.

You tease him with the tip of your tongue, while your hand wraps around the base of his dick. As your tongue makes contact with the sensitive head of his cock, a deep, guttural moan escapes his lips, his hands tangling in your hair, gripping you with urgency and desire.

With a lustful and mischievous glint in your eyes, you envelop him with your mouth, tracing circles around the sensitive head of his dick with your tongue. The taste of his precum teases your senses, urging you to take him deeper. Giving head isn’t usually your favorite, but there’s something undeniably alluring about Jimin’s cock—it’s not just his physical beauty, but the way he responds to your touch, igniting a fire within you that compels you to pleasure him with every ounce of your being.

You dive into your task with fervor, enveloping him with your warmth and intensity, all while maintaining an unwavering gaze that locks you in a fiery lust. His eyes, deep pools of desire, reflect back at you, almost black with longing, his breaths growing deep and quick as his fingers instinctively grasp at your hair, gently pulling you closer, urging you on in encouragement.

“Fuck. You’re so good, babe,” he hisses through gritted teeth as you create a delicious vacuum with your mouth, humming softly around him, each vibration sending electric waves down his spine, igniting a fire of pleasure that consumes him.

The sweet ache of his praise fuels you, igniting a fierce determination to please him even more, to push the boundaries of ecstasy and leave him breathless with desire.

With deft fingers, you caress his balls, feeling the twitch of his dick in your mouth, and god you love it. You love watching him like this.

With a satisfying pop, you release his dick, leaving Jimin breathless and utterly entranced as his gaze locks with yours, ablaze with an intensity that ignites your own desire. Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips, a tantalizing prelude to what's next as you eagerly plunge back down on his cock, lost in the electric rhythm of your desire.

With an insatiable hunger, you engulf him, channeling every ounce of your desire into each fervent suction, tracing delicate patterns with your tongue along his sensitive head, and on the slit, eliciting a symphony of shivers cascading down his body.

Despite the strain building in your jaw and the fatigue creeping into your muscles, your determination to please him fuels your every movement. 

You sense the telltale signs of his impending release, the subtle twitching of his muscles, the urgent grip on your hair. “I don’t want to come yet,” he pleads, his voice tinged with desperation. 

Responding to his plea, you halt your ministrations abruptly, withdrawing from him entirely, your tongue sweeping across your lips in anticipation of what’s to come.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” he pleads, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that mirrors your own desire. The raw hunger in his gaze ignites a primal longing within you, an ache that only he can satisfy. Fuck, that’s what you want too.

With a sense of urgency, you maneuver within the confines of the cattle truck, swiftly shedding your pants and panties, casting them aside in a rush of desire. 

“Fuck, Jimin, I want you to fuck me too,” you declare, your hands tenderly cradling his flushed cheeks as you settle back onto his lap, your pussy tantalizingly close to his cock.

You employ one hand to deftly guide his dick to your sobbing wet entrance, the anticipation sending shivers down your spine. With a deep breath, you lower yourself onto him, relishing the exquisite sensation of being filled as he too releases a throaty groan of ecstasy, captivated by the sight of you taking him in.

“Fuck,” you pant, your gaze fixated on the point where your bodies meld together, before shifting to meet Jimin’s gaze—his expression, a symphony of desire and ecstasy, ignites a primal hunger within you. Without hesitation, you plunge into a fervent kiss, pouring every ounce of longing and passion into the connection. As your lips mesh, you begin to undulate your hips, riding him with a rhythm born of pure sin, reveling in the exquisite sensation of his cock stretching you to the brink.

“You’re perfect, so good,” he pants, his words a raspy chorus of admiration and pleasure, his eyes tracing the elegant movements of your body with awe. “You’re taking me so well,” he adds, his voice strained with the overwhelming sensation of being consumed by your warm walls.

His praise reverberates through your core like a symphony, igniting every nerve ending and sending shivers of ecstasy down your spine. With each word, your inner walls contract around him, essentially hugging his dick tighter.

Your fingers trace the lines of his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt, as if mapping the landscape of his body. Gripping his pecs, you find stability in his strength, grounding yourself in the heat of the moment.

Your breath quickens as you trail kisses along his neck, each bite leaving its mark. His moans fuel your desire, igniting a primal need within you. As he thrusts up into you, your bodies synchronize in a dance of pleasure, even though you’re beginning to feel tired.

Your voice trails off, a whisper against his skin as fatigue begins to weigh on your limbs. You lean into his warmth, seeking solace in his embrace. “Jimin,” you murmur again, your breath mingling with his, a plea for rest and intimacy intertwined.

As his fingers trace gentle patterns on your hips, you feel his warm breath against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

“What do you need, baby?” he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet intimacy of the moment, his words a promise of comfort and understanding.

You lock eyes with him, your gaze filled with raw desire and an unmistakable urgency. “I want you to fuck me,” you confess, your voice laced with a mixture of longing and anticipation, your words a plea for him to consume you completely with his passion and desire.

A devilish smirk graces his lips as his hand trails up your spine, sending shivers of anticipation down your body. 

“I am, baby,” he murmurs huskily, his voice dripping with promise, igniting a fire of desire that consumes you entirely.

You melt into his embrace, the heat of the moment fueling your desire. “Fuck me harder,” you breathe against his lips, your voice a sultry whisper laced with determination. “I won’t break.”

His chuckle sends a delicious shiver down your spine, the vibration echoing in every fiber of your being, igniting a wildfire of desire within you.

“Shit, okay,” he breathes, his voice a husky whisper that stirs the air around you. With a firm grip on your hips, he guides you down onto him, then surges up, driving into you with an intensity that steals your breath away. A deep, primal moan tears from your lips as he plunges deep inside, igniting a frenzy of sensation that leaves you gasping for more.

He continues, each powerful thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you, your head nestled against his shoulder as you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his movements.

He breathes heavily against your ear, his voice a husky whisper as he drives into you with unrelenting force, each thrust igniting a new wave of ecstasy. 

“Like this?” He asks, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Fuck, yes!” You plead, your voice a needy whisper against his skin, your nails digging into his back as you arch into his every thrust.

With a low chuckle that resonates through your intertwined bodies, he drives into you with unrestrained fervor, each powerful thrust a testament to his primal desire, relishing the intoxicating blend of your scent and the tight embrace of your walls.

You’re lost in the moment, engulfed by the overwhelming pleasure he brings, his presence inside you sending ripples of ecstasy through every fiber of your being. The sensation of his cock sliding against your walls is pure bliss, akin to the smooth caress of silk.

As he continues to delve deep into you, each thrust ignites a wildfire of sensations, intensifying the pleasure building within. With each rhythmic motion, your body responds eagerly, the telltale signs of an impending climax looming ever closer.

With a longing gaze, you tilt your head, locking eyes with him in a silent exchange of desire. Without hesitation, you immerse yourself in another passionate kiss. The taste of him floods your senses, a tantalizing blend of minty freshness and the delicate essence of roses, leaving you intoxicated with longing.

“Jimin,” you gasp, unable to contain the impending wave of pleasure, “I’m gonna come.” His every thrust plunges you into a depth of sensation that sends shivers coursing through your entire being, curling your toes in exquisite anticipation.

“Come on my dick, baby,” Jimin’s voice rumbles with urgency, sending a surge of desire through your veins. With a primal hunger, he lifts your shirt, exposing your breasts again, and his mouth envelops your nipple, igniting a fiery response deep within you. 

As you clench around him, a symphony of sensations reverberates through your core, eliciting a guttural groan from deep within his chest.

With a few more primal thrusts into your eager pussy, you finally surrender to the electric ecstasy, releasing around him in a deluge of passion. Your liquid coats his dick, creating a slick and intoxicating friction that amplifies the intensity of the feeling of him inside you. The rhythmic collision of skin on skin fills the confined space of the truck, echoing like a symphony of desire. As the air thickens with raw anticipation, you find yourself gasping for breath.

As your body succumbs to the aftershocks of your orgasm, he continues his primal rhythm, holding you firmly by your hips, anchoring you to his powerful embrace even as you collapse against his unyielding frame.

“So fucking pretty,” his husky voice whispers in your ear, igniting a cascade of tingles down your spine, as you involuntarily clench around him once more, teetering on the edge of overstimulation from his intoxicating praise and relentless ministrations.

He releases your breasts, his lips finding solace on your neck, sinking into your flesh with a gentle bite, followed by the tender caress of his tongue. A guttural moan of his name escapes your lips, a symphony of pleasure and desire echoing in the confined space.

“I want you to fill me up, Jimin,” you whisper into his neck, your voice a delicate plea amid the haze of passion and exhaustion.

He responds with a low, guttural hum beneath you, driving into you with an intensity that surpasses anything before, each thrust echoing with a primal need, punctuated by his passionate moans.

You sense his breath quickening, a crescendo of desire matching the urgency of his thrusts. Feeling his movements intensify, you summon your last reserves of energy, rising to meet him with a determination born of desire. As you lock lips once more, then trail kisses down his neck, sinking your teeth in gently, he responds with a sharp hiss, a symphony of passion between you.

“Fuck!” His voice breaks with ecstasy as he calls out your name, surrendering to the waves of pleasure crashing over him. With each pulse of his release, he fills you with his warm seed, your teeth sinking into his neck as you share in his ecstasy. The sensation of him spilling into you sends shivers of satisfaction through your body, fulfilling a craving you’d longed for.

You both pant heavily, the truck filled with the sound of your ragged breaths as you continue to move yourself on him, savoring every lingering tremor of his climax. His spent dick still twitches inside you, a testament to the intensity of his release, fueling your desire to prolong the shared ecstasy.

“Jimin—,” you gasp out his name, feeling the weight of his presence beneath you as you settle onto him, completely immobile, savoring the intimate connection. He responds with a low moan, his lips finding your cheek in a tender kiss, his hand tracing soothing circles down your spine, reassuring and comforting.

Gradually, you feel him soften inside you, a gentle ebb of warmth as his essence melds with yours, mingling intimately. Sensations ripple through you as your own liquid trickles down, probably trailing down to his balls and the seat.

He catches his breath, his gaze lingering on your satisfied expression before diving in to claim your lips. The kiss is fervent, filled with a hunger born from the depths of desire.

You draw back, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you behold the canvas of his neck, now adorned with the marks of your affection.

His chuckle mingles with the remnants of heavy breaths, a playful glint in his eyes as he meets your gaze, “What’s so amusing?”

“You’re a canvas of desire,” you murmur, tracing the love marks with your fingertips, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes, “And I couldn’t resist leaving my mark.”

But you feel sorry, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Yours isn't any different, and I adore every mark you’ve left on me,” he reassures, his words wrapped in warmth as he leans in for another passionate kiss, sealing your love with unspoken desire.

You feel how he’s gone completely soft inside you and you recognize the need to return to reality — to the road ahead or the ailing truck waiting for attention. With a mixture of reluctance and responsibility, you extricate yourself from his embrace, retrieving your garments and draping them over your sated form before making your way back to your seat.

As Jimin hastily pulls up his boxers and pants, the urgency of the moment seems to dissipate, replaced by a shared gaze out the window. The swirling plumes of smoke that had once billowed ominously from the truck’s hood have now vanished, leaving behind a sense of relief.

“I’ll take a look at the engine,” he declares, leaping down from the truck with a determined air, muscles flexing as he pops open the hood. With practiced hands, he swiftly identifies the issue before returning to the cabin, his movements purposeful as he rummages for supplies. “It’s low on radiator fluid,” he announces upon finding the elusive bottle tucked behind the seats. Stepping back outside, he replenishes the tank with focused precision before securing the hood once more. Finally, he re-enters the truck, his expression a mix of satisfaction and determination.

“This should be enough to get us to the auction, then we’ll take it to a mechanic when we get home,” he reassures you with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting a mix of determination and affection as he turns the key in the ignition, the engine purring to life under his expert touch.

“Cool,” you say, a smile playing on your lips as your hand finds purchase on his sturdy thigh, the warmth of his skin beneath your touch reassuring as he navigates the road ahead.

Jimin and Jungkook have been toiling away in their kitchen, conjuring up a tantalizing feast for you and your sister. As the aroma of their culinary efforts wafts through the air, you can’t help but feel a surge of anticipation. So far, this double date is shaping up to be quite the culinary adventure, you chuckle to yourself, eager to see what delights await.

You find yourself perched comfortably in a chair, positioned strategically in the heart of the bustling kitchen. From this vantage point, you observe with growing admiration as the brothers, Jimin and Jungkook, seamlessly collaborate, their movements synchronized like a well-rehearsed dance. Across from you sits Jessi, a fellow spectator to this culinary spectacle. Both Jimin and Jungkook insist that you take a seat and unwind, assuring you that they have everything under control as they labor over the stove, intent on crafting a memorable dinner for all.

Silence reigns in the kitchen, broken only by the rhythmic sounds of knives slicing through crisp vegetables, the gentle hiss of steam rising from pots on the stove, the tantalizing aroma of spices mingling in the air. With each passing moment, the symphony of culinary creation crescendos, from the sizzle of something tantalizing on the grill to the comforting hum of the oven at work. The scent wafting through the kitchen is nothing short of intoxicating, teasing your senses and igniting a fierce hunger within you. Anticipation mounts as you eagerly await the unveiling of the culinary masterpiece being crafted before your eyes, your stomach growling in eager agreement.

“Almost done, you can set up the table,” Jimin’s voice cuts through the bustling kitchen, the heat from the stove causing beads of sweat to glisten on his brow like tiny jewels. With determination etched on his face, he expertly tends to the simmering pots, his culinary prowess on full display. Acknowledging his command, you exchange a nod, your eyes alight with excitement as you and your sister swiftly move to prepare the table, gathering plates, glasses, and utensils with purposeful efficiency. Each clink of silverware against porcelain resonates with anticipation, a prelude to the feast that awaits.

As Jimin and Jungkook enter the room bearing platters of steaming, aromatic dishes, your anticipation peaks, heightened by the mouthwatering scents wafting from the kitchen. With the table meticulously set, every place arranged with care, you eagerly settle into your seat, the air buzzing with the promise of culinary delights. 

You find yourself seated next to your sister, a comforting presence by your side as you engage in this delightful double date. Across the table, Jimin’s warm gaze meets yours, his eyes sparkling with shared excitement for the evening ahead. Jungkook’s presence beside your sister adds to the lively atmosphere, his easy going demeanor balancing the dynamic of the group.

You dine in a symphony of flavors, the tantalizing aromas wafting from the dishes crafted by the skilled hands of Jimin and Jungkook. Conversation takes a backseat to the feast laid before you, each bite a delicious revelation that dances on your taste buds. With every savory morsel, you find yourself drawn deeper into the culinary masterpiece, savoring each moment of culinary bliss crafted by the talented duo.

As the final bite of the delectable meal settles in your stomach, a satisfying fullness envelops you, as if the flavors will linger within you for days to come. With meticulous care, Jungkook and Jimin sweep away the remnants of the feast, gracefully tidying the table and expertly storing the remaining culinary treasures in containers, preserving the essence of the unforgettable meal they’ve crafted.

With a refreshing clink of glass, Jimin hands you a cold beer, his eyes sparkling with warmth as you exchange smiles. As you settle back into your seats at the table, the chilled beverages offer a welcome respite, inviting a relaxed atmosphere to linger a little longer in the company of good food and even better company.

“So how is it going with you and Jimin?” Jungkook’s question hangs in the air, laden with curiosity and a hint of playful mischief. You catch Jimin's gaze briefly before responding, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, the sound blending seamlessly with the warmth of the moment. Jimin’s hands reach out across the table, seeking yours, and as your fingers intertwine, a silent exchange of affection passes between you. 

“Absolutely perfect,” you murmur, your gaze locking with his in a shared understanding that transcends words.

With a tender expression, Jimin’s lips curve into a gentle smile, radiating warmth that fills the room. In response, you tighten your grip on his hand, fingers intertwining in a silent promise of support and affection.

Turning your attention to Jungkook, you inquire with genuine curiosity, “And how about you? Is it getting serious between you two?”

Your sister’s laughter dances beside you, punctuating the air with warmth, while Jungkook’s sudden blush betrays a hidden truth, his gaze averted as though guarding a secret. It’s a departure from his usual confident demeanor. Eventually, it’s your sister who breaks the silence, her voice brimming with happiness, “It definitely is.”

It warms your heart to hear their confirmation. As you take a sip of your beer, you catch Jimin’s gaze fixed on you, a silent question lingering in his eyes. There’s a tension in the air, a question begging to be asked, yet he remains silent, his thoughts concealed behind an enigmatic expression.

“Is there something on my face, babe?” You inquire playfully, your eyes meeting your boyfriend’s as he responds with a gentle chuckle.

“Ah, no. I was just thinking, since Kookie is heading over to your sister’s place, would you like to sleep over tonight?” he asks, shooting a playful scolding glance at Jungkook, who finally seems to snap out of whatever reverie had held him before.

He laughs heartily, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Yeah. We won’t disturb you!”

A flush of warmth spreads across your cheeks as you chuckle softly. “I’d absolutely love that, Jimin.”

His smile widens, his eyes reflecting the depth of his love for you.

You savor the last sip of your beer, relishing the cold it brings as you enjoy the company of your boyfriend, Jungkook, and your sister. Laughter fills the room, weaving through conversations about everything under the sun. Surprisingly, this double date has been more than enjoyable—it’s been a blast. Yet, as the evening draws to a close and farewells are exchanged, anticipation bubbles within you. You can hardly wait to slip into Jimin’s embrace, where the night holds promises of passionate lovemaking until dawn.

Honestly, he really wanted to go to the city, because his girl deserves the best. Yet, here he is, strolling through the quaint streets of the local town, drawn to a shop unknown to him until now. He has never visited this shop before, but now that he has you, everything feels different, better— well, you’ve changed him, made him remember who he is, and now that you’re finally back where you belong, his soul feels complete. The depth of his love for you knows no bounds, a force so powerful it compels him to stand within the walls of the local jewelry store, seeking a symbol of eternity to adorn you with.

Navigating the unfamiliar terrain of the store, he feels like a lost puppy amidst a sea of glittering treasures. Just as he’s pondering his next move, the store lady, with an air of gentle curiosity, approaches him, her presence a beacon of guidance in this maze of possibilities. “Do you need any assistance?” she asks, her voice a soothing melody in the otherwise silent space.

“Yes,” he responds with a chuckle, a nervous energy dancing in his movements as he scratches his head, “I’m looking for the perfect ring for my girlfriend.”

The lady’s smile warms her entire face, her eyes sparkling with understanding. “Ah, of course,” she says gently, “I’d be delighted to assist you in finding the perfect ring for your girlfriend.”

She leads him to the grand displays adorned with a dazzling array of jewelry: rings of all styles, necklaces that shimmer like moonlit waves, earrings that sparkle like stars, and even tiaras fit for a queen.

As he gazes at the stunning array of jewelry, a wave of uncertainty washes over him. Panic begins to gnaw at his insides. Fuck, he realizes he doesn’t know your preferences, and the pressure mounts with each passing second.

“Do you know what she likes?” The lady asks, her voice gentle and understanding. He shakes his head, his brows knit with worry, feeling a pang of guilt for not knowing your preferences.

“You could always go with something classic,” she suggests, her fingers delicately gliding over the gleaming display of timeless engagement rings, each one whispering tales of everlasting love and devotion.

He doesn’t like what he sees; they seem way too classic and basic for you. The ring needs to encapsulate the depth of his undying love for you, to be as unique and extraordinary as you are to him. His gaze wanders across the display until something glimmers and grabs hold of his heartstrings.

A purple gem—amethyst, glinting in the store light, captivating him with its ethereal beauty. 

That’s it. 

That’s the one. 

It feels almost magnetic, drawing him in, as if it's meant for you and you alone. The ring, delicate yet radiant, adorned with a single purple gem set in gold, seems to whisper your name. He’s certain you'll adore it. With unwavering determination, he points to the ring and declares, “That one.”

The lady’s smile widens as she retrieves a key from her pocket, unlocking the front of the glass display with a sense of excitement. “Do you know her ring size?” she asks, her voice brimming with anticipation.

As the store lady hands him the ring, he hears the gentle ding of the door, but he doesn't bother to turn around, his attention fully captured by the gleaming piece in his hand. Taking the ring delicately between his fingers, he turns it around, studying every detail with a mix of admiration and reverence. 

It’s perfect. Just like you.

“Yeah,” he nods, retrieving a slip of paper from his pocket, on which a number is scrawled hastily. He hands it over to the store lady, a silent plea evident in his eyes.

She takes the slip of paper from him, her eyes scanning the number with a gentle smile. “We have this ring in her size out back, just a moment,” she assures him, disappearing momentarily into the depths of the store.

As he waits for the lady to retrieve the ring, he finds himself drawn deeper into the mesmerizing allure of the jewelry before him. Each facet of the ring seems to hold a story untold, its sparkle casting a spell that captivates his senses. Lost in contemplation, he feels a presence at his side, and without turning, he subtly shifts to make room, inviting the stranger to share in the enchantment of the display.

“Jimin?” Jessi’s voice cuts through the air, almost startling him as he stands there, the ring gleaming between his fingertips. Her wide-eyed astonishment mirrors his own, catching him off guard in the midst of his silent contemplation.

“What are you doing here?” The simultaneous inquiry from both him and Jessi fills the air, followed by a burst of laughter that breaks the tension.

“I’m picking up my earring that broke some weeks ago, you?” Jessi’s voice carries a curious undertone, her gaze still fixed on his face, searching for answers.

As her gaze travels downward and lands on the ring in his hand, Jessi’s eyes soften, and she tilts her head ever so slightly. “Is that for my sister?” She asks, her voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and warmth, as if she already knows the answer but wants to hear it from him.

Just as the conversation with Jessi begins to deepen, the store lady returns, cradling a wooden box in her hands. “Here it is,” she announces, breaking the momentary silence with a gentle smile.

As the store lady passes the box to him, retrieving the ring from his grasp, her gaze flits between him and Jessi, a hint of curiosity flickering in her eyes, puzzled.

Jimin gingerly opens the box, unveiling a ring even more captivating than the one he had admired earlier in the display. Jessi leans in, her curiosity piqued, to steal a glance at the exquisite piece nestled within. “It’s stunning,” she murmurs, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

Jimin’s voice carries a hint of uncertainty as he gazes at the ring, seeking reassurance from Jessi. “Do you think she’ll love it?” he asks, his nerves palpable despite his conviction that this ring is the perfect choice.

Jessi’s voice is filled with unwavering certainty as she nods emphatically. “Jimin, trust me. She’ll absolutely love it.”

A sense of urgency colors Jimin’s voice as he pivots to address Jessi directly, his eyes pleading for her understanding. “Promise me, Jess. You can’t breathe a word of this to your sister, okay?”

Her laughter dances in the air, but her promise is firm, wrapped in the sincerity of her smile. “I won’t say a thing,” she assures, her eyes glinting with mischief and excitement.

With anticipation coursing through his veins, he settles the transaction with the store lady, the weight of the ring box in his hand a tangible reminder of his love and commitment. Now, all that’s left is to orchestrate the perfect moment to present it to you, a moment he imagines with fervent hope and longing.

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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[hunterevie]

Once in a while somebody will ask if there is a way to remove kudos on Ao3 on the subreddit and that normally leads to people putting their opinion across about whether we should be able to remove kudos from stories. Whether this is because they’ve accidentally pressed the button; they’ve found the author has some troubling views or they got to the end of the story and decided they didn’t like it.

Of course I am very anti this idea because Ao3 is not social media. It’s an archive for people to put their stories out for all to enjoy regardless of the content. A kudos is just a way of somebody saying ‘I’ve perceived this, and at that moment I liked it.’

But it’s deeper than that. It’s about how this function can be used to run authors out of a fandom. Either because they’ve upset a BNF and that person wants to get revenge, or because they’ve written something problematic a lot of the fandom don’t agree with. Essentially, it’s about brigading.

Whenever I put this view across. I’m told I’m being too sensitive. Or I’m overreacting. And all I can think is, well isn’t it nice you’ve never been attacked on social media and didn’t almost stop doing something you loved due to the actions of others?

From my perspective, I can easily see how a remove kudos function can be used to completely destroy the reputation of authors. And that is just because of my experience on Twitter.

Because my profile wasn’t just outed to 6000 people because I happened to say something a highly aggressive BNF believed was aimed at her. No, it went further than that. She actively told people to block and unfollow me. How do I know this? Because I still have friends in that fandom who told me.

People I respected and thought were decent didn’t allow me to put my story across and decided to do exactly that, block and unfollow me. Because her ‘receipts’ included something anonymously sent to her, and something I wrote on my account that was vaguely similar. I mean anybody who can’t work out I wouldn’t say something on my account and then attack a person anonymously isn’t worth my time anyway.

But I digress.

Imagine you had the ability to remove kudos from a story on Ao3, and that person knew I was a fanfic writer and knows my profile on Ao3? (Which they do because I used the same username). That co-ordinated attack could leak over onto Ao3. They could ask anybody that’s ever read my work to remove their kudos so that my stats go down and it looks like my stories are more unpopular than they really are.

Sometimes people filter by most kudos. They may decide that a story with 15k hits and 50 kudos because of a co-ordinated attack isn’t worth their time. Because ultimately that person doesn’t know why the author has so low kudos. It could be because the quality of their work is bad? Which means they may skip over it.

And yes, whilst we are told as authors to ‘write for ourselves’ we don’t upload to Ao3 for fun. We do it because we do like the engagement with others and we do want to share our stories. So imagine how demoralising it would be to see stats go down just because somebody decided they didn’t like you?

Basically if this ever happened to me I’d never write again and I would just remove all my stories. Which would be a loss to me, and those who do like my stories. Because they’d be left with no answers on my current WIPs.

And I can see many authors taking the same course of action if a ‘remove kudos’ button was ever added. Because it’s an easy way to trash the reputation of an author, and it’s naive of people to think it wouldn’t be used as a tool for attacking others.

Anyway, enough of that. Thanks for coming to my TED talk about Ao3 kudos and here’s Jensen and Misha as a reward for sitting through it.

[randomimaginesideas]

Let me rage part 2

Summary; Finally reunited Valtor and (Y/n) can get back to conquer the magic dimension. (Y/N) gets to meet the Trix and shows why she is Valtor’s right hand. Deciding to infiltrate Alfea she meets the Winx, and becomes an important player in this battle. 

This work is also published on AO3 under my username Acourtoffanficsandfeelings, if you prefer to read it there.

Continuation of Together again, and second part of let me rage.

A/N; First, I am incredibly sorry for the delay. I was having an intense writer's block for a certain part in this chapter and didn’t really know how to continue.

It seems that to this day Valtor is still a beloved character, and this fic still gets kudos, and comments. And that motivates me to write. So even if it has taken a while I hope I’ve managed to write a chapter you’re all very happy to read, as I did my best to make it as long as possible to make it up to you guys. While writing this chapter I concluded that this part of the series will be 3 chapters instead of the original two, as I felt it would have the story flow more. 

Also because I hope this way to fetch out the character of the reader more, to give her some emotions, and struggles, while still remaining an badass amazing villain lover. And to show you some more moments between Valtor and (Y/N).

So I want to thank everybody again for sticking around,and reading this after my long absence, and if you just found the fic and this was already out when you found my fic, I hope you also enjoy everything that I’ve written so far.

Monday morning. Idle chatter could be heard filling the classroom as some of the Alfea students were waiting for their new teacher to make an appearance. A teacher who was ten minutes late. When the wooden doors started to creak, and announced the arrival of somebody the chatter slowly faded out, and silence filled the room.  “Sorry class, I know I’m late, but as I’m sure some of you would agree with me, this school can be quite a maze.” The students, including the famous Winx, watched as the new teacher made her way towards the desk, and placed her bag on it before turning around to face her students. “Hello class, I’m Professor Whiteshade, and I am your new teacher specialized in Enchantix.”

While she was introducing herself (Y/N) could feel the eyes of the students observing her. They took in the white floor length dress that she wore, with the black belt across her waist. She could feel their eyes looking at her blond hair that was so pale it almost looked white when the lights hit it in a certain spot. It had been pulled into an intricate bun to keep the hair out of her face. (Y/N) didn't like the look she had currently on, but there have been worse faces she had turned into.

One of the students raised her hand, gaining (Y/N)’s attention who smiled at her. “Yes,-” She glanced down at one of the papers on her desk, pretending not to have seen Bloom before. Valtor had shown her some of the winx in his scrying orb and explained the most important facts she needed to know: like the fact that Bloom was the fairy of the dragon flame. “Bloom, is it?” The red head nodded, before asking her question. “Not to be rude professor, but why are we now suddenly getting this extra class in our curriculum?” 

“Not rude at all, and an understandable question at that. I understand you’re not looking forward to more homework, so I will try to keep it at a minimum. As you all are well aware there is a new threat trying to conquer the magic dimension.” (Y/N) voice got serious as she looked across the room, seeing multiple defeated faces of the fairies who’s home had been affected by Valtor. A good person would have felt bad when she looked at those faces, but (Y/N) knew that sometimes things had to be destroyed for a new world to rise again. A world in which she and Valtor ruled the magic dimension.

“Headmistress Feragonda has asked me to come to Alfea, and teach and guide you students as you learn more about Enchantix in these troubling times. From the information I’ve gotten, two of you have already received your Enchantix.” (Y/N)’s eyes found those of Aisha and Stella, whom she gave a reassuring smile. “You should be proud of yourselves for earning your Enchantix, despite how grave the situation was in which you’ve gotten them.” (Y/N) focused on the class again. Aisha’s and Stella’s expression grew dark as (Y/N) could see the memories of those moments come back to the girls.

“Enchantix isn’t easily gained, it requires great sacrifice. I know of fairies who’ve nearly died in their efforts to earn their Enchantix. And sometimes you need to sacrifice your own happiness and choose to do what’s right because not everything that makes you happy is right.”

~~~

“Are you sure this is the only way?” (Y/n) asked as she looked at the beaten and locked up form of professor Whiteshade, who was currently lying unconscious on the floor. “You know that there is nobody I trust more with this than you.” (Y/N) felt Valtor place his hands on her shoulders as he stood behind her. The two of them were standing in front of Whiteshade’s cell, which was located one floor above Griffins, where Valtor had told her his plan regarding Alfea. “We need to have an inside source, and find the hall of enchantment. They will notice if I or the Trix slip by but they won’t notice you.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, knowing he was right, but not really agreeing with the plan.

“I’ve only just returned to you, and you wish to have me leave again.” She muttered, feeling rejected. Valtor quickly turned her around, guiding her by her shoulders. One of his hands grabbed her chin gently between two fingers, and tilted her head up. “That is a cruel thing to say, for you know that is not my intention. I’ve missed you with all my heart, and I dislike this plan as much as you do, but there is nobody I trust more with this than you. And the sooner this is over with, the sooner you can return to me.” Valtor said as he looked into her eyes, and pressed a brief kiss on (Y/N)’s lips. 

A sigh left her lips afterwards as she enjoyed the closeness between them for a moment, knowing that she would have to part from it again so soon, and then she relented. “Alright, I’ll do it.” Valtor smiled at her as he slowly released her from his hold. (Y/N) turned to look at the real professor Whiteshade again, as she whispered a spell, closing her eyes. As soon as the spell had crossed her lips the shadows around them in the room seemed to twist and turn as they started to glide across her body. Through the glimpses of shadow Valtor could see her clothing change from the black dress she wore to a red sundress. Her (Y/H/C) turned into the lightest of blondes. And when the shadows moved away, and (Y/N) opened her eyes, even her eye color had changed. 

She looked almost identical to the professor Whiteshade in the cell, only the trained eye would spot the differences. A mole that wasn’t there where it usually was, a scar that wasn’t there, perhaps a bit more weight on the arms or legs.  (Y/N) had always been able to manipulate the shadows, to make things seem different from what actually, but only small things like books, trinkets or furniture. But during her years with Valtor he had taught her to think bigger, to practice her spells, and now she was almost able to place the spell on almost anything. For everything in the shadows is not what it seems.

~~~

It had been two weeks since (Y/N) had arrived at Alfea and she was annoyed. She knew she was doing important work for Valtor, passing along information from the room of enhancement to Valtor, but those types of things took time. It turned out that Alfea had finally invested in a librarian who took her work seriously. Although it wasn’t difficult for (Y/N) to charm Barbatea, and learn all about the library. But it also meant that Barbatea  knew every nook and cranny, and would know it if things disappeared. So (Y/N) was forced to make copies of some of the lesser important spells, and tried to find substitutes for the more important books and scrolls. (Y/N) was particularly proud of the erotic romance novel she had managed to look like an ancient spell book. Now she just hoped that nobody would open the book. 

After spending seventeen years as a statue, her powers were still on the weaker side. Each week she felt her power grow, and Valtor had helped her by sharing his power. But from the moment she had woken up she had used her magic continuously. Pretending to be Griffin when anybody would try to contact her to keep up the appearance that Cloud Tower was still standing. Or that one time they had intercepted a call from Feragonda to King Radius to ask how things were regarding the fountain, and King Radius had replied that; everything was quiet but they would keep an eye out for anything strange and notify her when they did. And now, (Y/N) had to continue to keep up the appearance as professor Whiteshade, and keep the illusions of the books going even if she wasn’t anywhere near them.

And on top of all that she had to actually teach the students something about Enchantix. The first couple of days (Y/N) had mostly placed the focus on introductions in the class, and to Enchanctix, telling what she knew of Enchantix, but she was running out of information. So one day she had made a parkour course for her Enchantix students, before letting them race the others. To make the students see how much stronger they would become if they earned Enchantix, and why it came with such a heavy price.

But the thing that kept (Y/N) going was the fact that she knew Valtor was growing stronger every time she sent him something through the shadows. And Valtor also seemed to know when to say something to her, even when he couldn’t speak with her.

~~~

It was dark in the library, most of the Alfea students were in bed, as were most of its teachers. Barbatea had just wished (Y/N) goodnight, after (Y/N) had promised the librarian she would lock up behind her, but just wanted to research one more thing before her class tomorrow. (Y/N) had turned off the lights, preferring the light from the moon shining through the windows. (Y/N) always waited half an hour after everybody had left to make sure that Barbatea wouldn’t just reappear. 

When the half hour had passed (Y/N) slowly rose from the chair she had been vacating, and she closed the book she had been reading. From her bag, which was filled with her students' homework to keep up appearances, she grabbed a gardening book that she had taken from the greenhouse earlier today. After placing it on the table right next to the one she had been reading previously, she placed her hands on top of the books, one on each. (Y/N) closed her eyes, and tried to focus. “Mirror image.” She whispered as she felt her magic move beneath her hands. The headache that had been slowly growing bigger these past week, grew stronger with the new spell she casted. 

When (Y/N) opened her eyes she let out a sigh of frustration. It almost looked like the spell had only taken half effect. The title of the spellbook had been transferred to the gardening book, but the flowery cover could still be seen underneath.

(Y/N) lifted her head to look at the ceiling as she took another deep breath, trying to soothe the headache, and focus on the shadows she was already controlling. Her image of professor Whiteshade, and covers of around fifteen books she was trying to keep up, while focusing on creating a new one. If she focused, she could feel the shadow connecting the books together, although weak as it was, it was there. (Y/N) tried to imagine Valtor standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders, placing a kiss on her lips as she had her head tilted backwards. And his words he had whispered to her long ago that fateful day; that she was strong, that she was capable of anything, as long as she remained by his side. 

“I miss you.” (Y/N) confessed to the quiet library, with only the moonlight and the shadows as her company. It had been two weeks of no contact with either Valtor or the Trix. And after only a week with Valtor,before she had gone to Alfea, after being stuck in stone for seventeen years felt like a short time to be together again. But (Y/N) also knew that they would have all the time in the world together once Valtor and her conquer the magic dimension. 

Thinking with their end goal in mind (Y/N) returned her attention back to her task at hand. “Mirror image.” She said again, and this time when she opened her eyes, she had two identical books. Or at least when you didn’t look too closely. Perhaps a tear wasn’t in the place it always was, and maybe the letter R was a different font but didn’t look out of place at first glance. 

(Y/N) stood up and placed the duplicate copy back in the place it belonged, before grabbing the original and walking to a shadowed corner of the library, a place where the moonlight didn’t reach. (Y/N) squatted down and waved her hand, the shadows twisting underneath into a calm whirlpool of shadows. She imagined Cloud Tower, more specially Valtor’s desk, next to the scrying orb as she pushed the book into the shadows, and dropped it. 

(Y/N) stood back up again, and went to turn around when she heard a small thunk, and something hitting her ankle. The shadows had gone quiet again, no longer moving as their mistress had no longer any use of them. But that wasn’t what caught (Y/N)’s attention, for she had expected them to be quiet. No, on the ground near her ankle she saw a small circle with something sticking out of it. 

After picking it up, (Y/N) made her way towards the window. In the moonlight she saw she was holding onto a ring with a small note attached to it. Before (Y/N) studied the ring she opened up the note. It was a small letter, one that would sometimes have been tied to the foot of a bird. The only message on it was; As promised. Two days.

(Y/N) turned her attention towards the ring. It was a ring that was on the wider side. The first thing that caught her attention was how blue it was. When she looked closer she recognized the blue to be some type of coral, from andros more specifically. The whole inside of the ring was made of polished blue coral, the sides inlaid with gold to give it a more delicate effect. A smile came on (Y/N)’s face as she brought the ring to her chest and held it there for a moment. 

Seventeen years ago Valtor had promised her all the jewelry her heart desired when they were rulers of the magic dimension. (Y/N) had mentioned how her sister had gotten a ring from Andros, which had used coral instead of diamonds, and how she had always wanted a ring like that. And how some corals from Andros were worth more than some of the most expensive diamonds. So that was why her sister only had one small part of her ring infused with the coral. In response Valtor had promised she would have the most beautiful ring of Andros one day, even prettier than her sisters. 

(Y/N) remembered how Aisha hadn’t been in class today as there was another attack on Andros. Seemed like Valtor had remembered his promise. With a smile (Y/N) placed the ring around her, or rather professor Whiteshade’s, finger. She tore up the paper and threw it in the trash, making sure nobody would be able to read it, and even then it couldn’t be traced back to her. With renewed strength (Y/N) made her way out of the library, and towards her bedroom.

~~~

That had been two days ago. It was now Saturday, and everybody, teachers and students, were free to do as they pleased today. But (Y/N) had been on edge the whole day, just waiting for something to happen. She kept herself busy by making sure all her shadows were still where she needed them to be, and keeping her head ache to a minimum. But she did all that from the solitude of her bedroom. (Y/N) was in the habit of keeping her curtains almost closed, not a fan of the burning daylight. 

Her attention was pulled when the small streak of light that came from the crack in between the curtains turned dark. Opening her curtains she could see storm clouds gathering above Alfea as it started to rain. If (Y/N) hadn’t suspected something was amiss, the fact that the magic barrier was going up was a definite sign.

Relief and excitement coursed through (Y/N)’s body. Relief that her stay in Alfea would finally be over, and excitement to know the future that will be waiting for them. (Y/N) stepped out of her room and ran into professor Palladium and professor Wizgiz who had also been residing in their chambers. The tree of them ran up towards one of the rooftops, knowing that Faragonda had gone there to activate the barrier. “Miss Faragonda!” Professor Palladium called out to her, gaining her attention.

“Brace yourself. The lighting is bewitched, and clearly the work of Valtor.” Faragonda warned them as she turned to look back in the sky. Up in the storm clouds the mark of Valtor had appeared, whenever the lighting struck it grew brighter. Faragonda turned her attention back to the professors at her side. “Keep your eyes open, be prepared,-” “Look, he’s using the witches from Cloud Tower.” Professor Wizgiz said, pointing towards the storm cloud. Professor Wizgiz was right. From the storm clouds, they’re hands outstretched came the lighting that had previously been in the clouds. The lighting struck the magical barrier, and with Valtor controlling them the magic of the witches was a lot stronger than they’d normally had, making the barrier fall apart.

Faragonda turned back around to face her colleagues. “Alright, get the girls. They’ll need our help, and we’ll need theirs.” Faragonda said with confidence before she was hit with lighting from behind. Luckily with everything going on it just seemed like professor Whiteshade stepped away from the blast to protect herself, and certainly not because she didn’t feel the need to catch the headmistress. (Y/N) had to give credit where credit was due, and Faragonda quickly got back up again. “Alright, you two,-” Faragonda looked in the direction of the professor's Palladium and Wizgiz. “Gather all the fairies and prepare for battle.” The two professors ran off as the barrier fully broke, and tiny glittering pieces fell down the sky. 

Then Faragonda looked professor Whiteshade in the eyes. “Go to the library and don’t let any of the information get into the wrong hands.” (Y/N) turned to walk towards the library when she heard Faragonda call out her lover’s name, which made her stop in her tracks. Faragonda was way too focused on Valtor who came down from the sky to notice that she had stopped.

Valtor landed with two feet on the ground, arms folded together in front of his chest. “We meet again, Faragonda, it has been a while.” Valtor smiled as he tilted his head slightly sideways, almost as if he pitied the woman standing in front of him. “You’ve grown old.” He added chuckling. For the briefest of moments (Y/N) saw his eyes go over Faragonda’s shoulder in her direction, before returning towards the furious headmistress.

“You’ve bewitched the girls from Cloud Tower.” She accused before throwing a spell at him in her anger. Valtor managed to easily catch the spell with his hand, before throwing it back in Faragonda’s direction, which managed to hit her in the chest. Faragonda flew backwards towards the edge of the roof, hitting the brick wall. She landed close to (Y/N), who was now calmly inspecting the spectacle. Now that Faragonda could see that professor Whiteshade had remained standing, (Y/N) could see the clogs in her head turning. “I’ve always been known to be rather persuasive.” Valtor said, walking closer towards them as (Y/N) slowly started to make his way towards him. “No, no!” Faragonda muttered, almost shocked, as realization slowly started to dawn on her.  “Or should I say, we are very persuasive.” 

“I suppose we are.” (Y/N) chuckled, as she let herself drop the image of professor Whiteshade for a moment. With each blink of Faragonda’s eyes a different person was standing next to Valtor. One moment in her place stood the professor, then Griffin, and then King Radius , and with the next blink shadows circled around the woman standing next to Valtor, revealing the woman lying behind the shadows, beneath all the false faces she created. A smile on her lips that Faragonda knew all too well from many years ago, then the professor was back in place but the smile still remained. “Well, as fun as this little reunion is, I was under strict orders to make sure the information in the library would not fall under the wrong hands.” (Y/N) told Valtor, who matched the smile on her face. 

“Well then, you better get going. Faragonda and I have a lot of catching up to do anyway.” 

[katnissmellarkkk]

Yall I did it!!! I actually finished the chapter! Okay so now I was thinking seriously of splitting this chapter in two parts but in the end, I couldn’t find a good, satisfying place to break them in half so… here’s a really long chapter! Hopefully you guys don’t mind 🩷🩷🩷🩷

Okay well anyways, God bless all of you and thank you so much for continuing to read my stuff, following my page here, giving me kudos and especially all the really nice, wonderful comments! Those are like instant serotonin to my brain 🤍.

Anyways hope you enjoy!

-

It doesn’t take long for Peeta to arrive home. After our call ended, with me tearfully proclaiming I need you, all I could manage to do was stare at the clock. Stare at it and count the minutes until my husband was here with me and not lingering in town, vulnerable and unaware of the most recent turn of events.

Not lingering in town, where Vulcan could find him and follow through with his threat to take Peeta’s life.

I almost choke as the possibility dawns on me. For some reason, in the hours since I awoke, the prospect of Vulcan the Stalker harming Peeta had yet to even cross my mind.

And my head wound throbs and my side aches something awful as the image fills my mind. The image of the person I love most in the world, lying in a pool of his own blood, slowly dying from a wound inflicted by a monster, who for some deranged reason chose me to be the object of his affection. My chest hurts at the very concept that Peeta could be gravely injured and I would be none the wiser. The mere idea quite literally takes my breath away.

The mere idea that what happened to me could happen to Peeta makes my eyes fill up, and I wonder if I begin to hyperventilate how much it’ll damage the stitches in my side. How much can I move before I damage the seams holding my hip together and keeping me from bleeding out all over the bed.

But — thankfully — I don’t have time to find out. Because before I can have a full meltdown, much like the one I already had upon waking up and finding myself stitched together like one of Prim’s old rag dolls, my husband’s stomp booms as he comes up the stairs, apparently taking them three at a time.

And I’ve never been so grateful for his gait. I’ve never been so grateful that he’s as loud as a bear on a wild chase.

I only wish we could be alone. I wish we could just have a moment to ourselves. But there’s still Enforcers in our hall, conferring quietly among themselves, with no end to their visit in sight. Actually, it’s not just the hall. There is still Enforcers everywhere on our property.

On our lawn, in our kitchen, on the porch, in the living room, the office, the backyard, down the road.

And especially in the spare room where I painted the floor scarlet with my blood. They’ve all been taking turns rotating in and out of that room for as long as I’ve been coherent.

One of the Enforcers — a younger male, who I haven’t had to personally speak to — attempts to stop Peeta as he rushes to get to me, his eyes dark and wild and intense.

“Sir, I’m sorry,” the young lawman says, his tone all business and detached. Like my near death experience is nothing but a bore to him. “This whole house is a crime scene. You can’t be in here-”

“She’s my wife,” Peeta simply states, as if that changes everything.

Because it does. To me and to him.

Because for as long as that handcrafted ring is on my finger, wherever I am, he belongs too. There’s nowhere I could be that Peeta wouldn’t follow. There’s nothing that could keep me away from him.

Read The Rest On AO3

[alexandra-emerson]

Some Thoughts

(For readers horrified by what’s been going on in fandom who want to help)

Twats

I’m sad that some authors have been pulling their works from AO3, though I totally get it. But I’m not going to add to the “don’t sell fanfics” commentary much. I’m working with a lawyer to get mine taken down from Etsy, and it sucks, but I think this is an opportunity to talk about the fandom community as a whole. Specifically, what you can do to keep it alive and healthy.

I think it’s easy to sit at home, read about this illegal fanbinding drama with interest, run to AO3 to mass download your favorite fics, pat yourself on the back for not buying or selling fics illegally or not adding them to Goodreads, then move on with your life. But I would argue this passive attitude is just as harmful to the community, in some ways.

The Criticism Ratio

You all have probably heard that you’re supposed to deliver compliments and criticism with a ratio of 5:1. This is because negative comments stick in our heads more, so even if you were balancing the good and bad, or giving twice as many good comments as bad ones, the bad ones carry so much weight, they still seem to be winning.

With writing, I would argue this ratio is probably more like 10:1. Because it’s so personal. And most of us are so new to it. And it’s so much freaking work. I timed it once, and one chapter typically takes me 12 hours to write. That doesn’t include editing, or the hours my beta puts into editing. Then, to float all that work out into the world and get negativity back … oof, it makes embarking on the next 12 hours, and the next and the next VERY difficult.

My Experience

I’ve been an author of some popular fics in both the Harmony and Dramione spaces. On the Harmony side, I’ve dealt with personalized attacks, not just against my stories but against me as a person. And when that was going down, there weren’t a ton of fans speaking up on my behalf. I got a lot of DMs telling me those bullies were just the “loud minority” but from my point of view, with my supporters sounding like crickets, they felt like a majority. 

(Quick note to my Harmony readers: No I’m never writing Harmony again, get over it, and stop following me to every work I write next to ask me when I’m writing Harmony again. You had your chance to support me, and you fucking missed the boat.)

On the Dramione side, the public spaces are more moderated (thank God) so I’m less likely to stumble upon downright bullying. But this space is overwhelming in how BIG it is and how much conversation goes on about my fics. I always feel like the last to know when there’s some big Tik-Tok boom happening with one of my stories, when a story gets added to Goodreads, when there’s a reddit thread discussing the flaws in ‘Timeless’, when it gets posted for sale on Etsy, when someone popular binds it. It’s very hard to keep up with this giant fandom and it’s too much to handle at times. Which means if people don't send us things directly, we don't see it.

I also get this thing in Dramione that I didn’t get as much in Harmony where people act afraid or embarrassed to reach out to me. They’ll say things like, “I’m so sorry to bother you…” or “I’m sure you hear this all the time, and I know you don’t need to hear it from me too, but your works are great…” I think in Dramione people assume because it’s so big, other people are taking care of things, but that’s not the case. There is a lot of activity, for sure, but not much of that is making it back to the author.

My Ask

So anyway, think about the role you play in fandom. Are you contributing to the compliment bank, or the criticism one? (Remember, abstentions go with the majority. And in this case, every negative experience holds x10 weight).

Good things can be as simple as sending a quick note like, “Just letting you know I thought about your story today” or “Here’s another kudos because I just reread this gem!” It can be correcting a negative comment or review you see out in the wild, so that if the author ever stumbles across it, they see that their people are out there, sticking up for them. Ten people can instantly negate a bad comment with ten positive ones. Then if the author ever finds it, no harm done.

We all know the bad things that harm fandom, so there’s no need for me to rehash them here. But don’t forget that the passive things can be just as harmful. Things like: Rating a fanfic on Goodreads, because it’s already there, and you really want it to count towards your goal. Downloading a story, loving it, and never letting the author know. Reading rude comments online, complimenting yourself for not being that mean, then scrolling to the next thing.

My challenge to fandom is this: Let’s fill that compliment and support bucket so full that when an author does encounter a negative experience with one of their fanfics, they have a giant, fluffy pillow of endless love to fall back on. Let’s make those rare moments of nastiness truly feel like a minority to our creators. It’s not a ton of work. Our fandom is so flipping large, it just takes a tiny comment from each person to keep our community feeling like a fun, positive place to play.