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kingofbodyrolls · 8 months ago

Text

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

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

🐴Chapter title: Broken Dreams

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

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

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

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

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

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

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 14.4k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pregnant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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#jimin x reader #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #my heart's home series #reader: female #au: cowboy #au: ranch #au: soulmates #au: childhood friends #au: friends to lovers #au: slice of life #theme: summer #vibe: smutty #vibe: romcom #vibe: angst #vibe: fluffy

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theschizotypalsolilquy · 4 months ago

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🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

What are you saying you dumb fuck ?

Why do you want him to be straight so badly?

Says someone who pathetically wants him to be gay and ships him with his bandmate who's also straight. Jiimin himself saying he asking HER out.. it's all needed to prove he's into women. While it's YOU who wants him to be gay so badly.

It's cuz you think you'd have a chance with him if he was.

Aigoo don't worry about me. 90% of JM stans hope JM finds a beautiful kind girl for himself and be happy. Btw you can't have a chance with him in your big age anyway so are you a fetishist who use JK as a vessel to project your feeling towards Jimin ? You know he don't want you nor JK. But you keep on saying Jk is his partner as if he said that to you personally.

YOU GAY SHIPPERS NEVER WANT TO GET OUT OF YOUR FANTASIES EVEN IF THE PART OF YOUR SHIP EXPLAINS THE REAL MEANING BEHIND HIS SONGS AND HOW HE WANTS A FREAKING GIRL FRIEND. HE WANTS A WOMAN, A PUSSY, A WIFE, MOM OF HIS KIDS.

I want him to be gay?

I do?

Wow. And here I thought I was just going by what those two kinky fuckers have been saying and showing us for over 10 years.

Yall always come on here saying that we are discounting what he says and blah blah blah

When yall have been ignoring the rainbows those two have been dropping for years.

I want JK??? Huh??

Where? When? Why? What?

Awwww....and you tried to make a dig about my age. Is me being a mature woman with an extremely active love and sex life supposed to be a bad thing? Am I supposed to sob in a corner cuz some young thing thinks I give a fuck what they think about anything that I post on my blog?

I respond to these not because I think you're worth my time.

It's cuz yall are so easy to fuck with in believing that I take anything yall say seriously

#jimin #jungkook #jikook #park jimin #kookmin #jeon jungkook

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goldenhickeysandramen · 2 years ago

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Well, we can't ask for more from the day, listen!

We have a date for the release of Jiimin's album! March 24th! Hooray!

And today….well, today we had jikook sprawled on the floor, fighting/hugging each other....

In the middle of a very competitive match, these guys show up and start ….jikooking?

All very normal 😌

Not to mention the number of times that JK has spank Jimin's ass (aka jibooty)

(the editors could no longer explain what jikook was doing)

All very normal 😌

I leave you the whole scene... because this one will go down in everyone's memory!

#kookmin #jikook #mingguk #jikook kookmin #jimin and jungkook #minkook #jikook kookmin jinkook jiminshiii jk

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btsqualityy · 1 year ago

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hi there 💘 could i make a parks fluff request where mama park overhears noey and jimin talking about how much they miss her when she goes to work 🥹

Noah is 3 in this!

You stepped inside of your house, softly shutting the door behind you before you slowly took off your jacket and shoes. You had had an insanely long shift at work, where it seemed like everything that could go wrong did and you were more than happy to finally be home with your husband and son.

Once your things were off, you padded up the stairs and went straight to your bedroom. As you got closer to the door, you heard the voices of your husband and son and you looked through the crack in the door, smiling at what you saw.

Jimin was sitting up against the headboard, his arms wrapped around Noah as Noah laid snuggled into his father's side. One of Noah's hands were tangled in Jimin's shirt and one of Jimin's hands was softly carding through Noah's hair.

"I miss Mommy," Noah pouted.

"I know mini me, I do too," Jimin agreed.

"Why can't Mommy stay home with us all the time?" Noah wondered. "I like it when she's here."

I do too but Mommy likes her job," Jimin told him. "She likes helping people."

"Why?"

"Because Mommy's heart is super big and she cares a lot for people, even if she doesn't know them," Jiimin explained and you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face. "You know how you like helping people? Mommy is where you get it from."

"Mommy said I got that from you," Noah replied and Jimin laughed loudly.

"Of course she did," he nodded. "I guess you got it from both of us then."

"What else do I have from Mommy?" Noah asked and Jimin smiled widely.

"Well, you have a big heart like her, you love people a lot, you're very smart, and you're nice to everyone, even if they're not nice to you sometimes," he told him. "All of that, you got from Mommy."

"I like being like Mommy," Noah murmured. "She's my favorite person."

"Mines too mini me," Jimin said, and you could feel the tears well up in your eyes. "Mines too."

#btsqualityy drabbles 2 #drabble day 3

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aajjks · 1 year ago

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bunny!jungkook hey baby i’m home! ah you’re all dressed up! you look so handsome… what’s the special occasion, hm… a birthday dinner? ah i can’t wa- what? your friends birthday dinner? so it’s his birthday today huh… just your friends birthday? oh okay… well go have fun baby…

me and jiimin are birthday twins 🥹

“HEY NOONA! Yes, I am dressed up. It’s for a special occasion after all thank you I really do? Well whenever you compliment me I feel so good about myself, so thank you for that. Yeah it’s a birthday dinner? you know it’s jimin hyungs birthday dinner- yes you seem shocked- today feels like a really special day. I feel like I’m forgetting something but it’s probably nothing. Why did your smile fade? OH SHIT, I JUST REALIZED. OH NOONA IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY TOO… HAHA I AM KIDDING. I KNEW IT WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY AND I HAVE PREPARED EVERYTHING I WAS JUST PRANK YOU COULD YOU EVEN THINK THAT I WOULD FORGET SUCH A SPECIAL DAY? This is the most blessed day in the history universe, because you were born on this day. Happy birthday my love. I love you more than you could ever know.”

#ask: bunny!koo #SO LUCKY #HAPPY BIRTHDAY UWU MAY YOU HAVE THE BEST DAY EVER BECAUSE YOU DESERVE IT

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vlovers19 · 2 years ago

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So you are basically saying, v didn't like jimin's album and so he didn't post about it. Some bestfriend huh. Doesn't he have some courtesy to encourage and wish well for his friend even if he didn't like it. He is obviously able to post for suga. Its clear he doesn't respect or appreciate jiimin anymore. He clung to him when he was sad and wanted someone. I m glad jimin seems happy and unbothered.

I told you it's my opinion he didn't like Jimin's song. Of all the things I said, that was the only thing you were able to grab. Obviously, you are a solo and I don't blame you for having your own opinions. Ask yourself what could be the reason for Taehyung's silence regarding Jimin? Ego, jealousy of Jimin? Please.

Taehyung recently allowed people listen to a jazz music he sang and produced himself. When people asked if he would release it, he replied he would do so in ten years. Imagine the clownery. That is to say, releasing his album isn't such a big deal to him. He merely sang that song out of habit. Taehyung at the moment is probably more interested in his variety shows and perharps acting career in the future considering he has more actor friends than idols.

No one knows what could really be going on between them and like i mentioned before if Taehyung and Jimin cared so much about what people thought, they would have done something by now. Taehyung hasn't publicly interacted with Suga in a long time. Yet no one cared about it because somehow, we all know at the back of our minds that they have no problem with each other but with Jimin, he must prove they are close! If he doesn't, he hates him.

I doubt they care what we think. it's almost like when they both promised they would do a live together but never did. That did not in any way stop them from being close. They probably did not feel the need to be in our faces. Anyway, this is my opinion. It's triggering to a lot of people but Jimin and Taehyung's interactions have always been like this hot and cold over the years. Unpredictable, nothing at all like the standard ship where everything is like milk and honey in their relationship. The couple involved in the ship never fight, never break up and enjoy a happy smooth relationship when in truth, that is far from reality. Anyway, congratulations to Suga. I hope his album does well!!!

#Vmin #Bts #Taehyung #Jimin

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the-matte-blvck · 2 years ago

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come back home.

chapter i.

type: series

pairing: jiimin x yoongi

genre: angst, drama, romance, action

⚠️ tw: abuse (mental/emotional), homophobia, ...

⚠️ this story is still developing, so many trigger warnings may not be considered until future chapters. there's a lot that will be written about; please message me before reading to ask about specific warnings. all warnings in each current chapter will be stated. I'm not too familiar with trigger warnings, so please message me respectfully, and I will gladly add them and apologize ⚠️

word count: 3023 words

summary: a smart, goody-two-shoes momma's boy is sick and tired of being treated like a child and runs away from home, right into extremely dangerous gang territory. With a gun pointed at his head, all he could think was how hot someone could look when they are threatening to kill you.

a/n: i've had this story sitting in my drive for awhile waiting to see the light of day again. if you think you've read it before, i have revamped and rewrote a lot of it so please take a chance on me once more.

» i take requests for just $1 for published oneshots, and $2 for personal oneshots. message me for details, conditions may apply «

The feeling of isolation has been present for some time now. Everyone close to Park Jimin disowned him, and the only people who could have helped him from his despair disappeared before the fallout of being outed to an unsupportive family.

Every day he feels a mixture of anger and self-loathing, wondering why his life had to turn out this way. He used to have many panic attacks and manic episodes; after a while, they grew farther apart until they disappeared. He had grown numb in his solitude, waiting for the day he could escape.

“Please, Taehyung,” Jimin pleaded, curling up onto his bay window with his phone loosely held up to his ear and cheek. “You have to come and visit soon…I miss you like crazy.”

“I will get the time off work as soon as I can. And then we can spend time together just like we used to, I promise.” His best friend replied, his tone conveying positivity to uplift the younger’s spirits.

“You are always working, Hyung. You barely have enough time to call me anymore.”

Jimin’s best friend, Kim Taehyung, had moved away almost a year ago across the country. He relayed to the younger that he was forced to work at one of his father's hotels after graduation. But Mister Kim pulled him out of school before the ceremony. So Jimin was left to spend his last year of schooling alone because other kids and adults publicly shamed him for his homosexuality.

He has always planned to move to America with Taehyung. The intention was to attend the same college and dorm together. Jimin knew they would be happy together, as friends or even more, if Taehyung allowed it. The younger knew Taehyung was the reason he was sexually attracted to men. After all, he was the one that introduced Jimin to the idea of same-sex couples.

Jimin’s mother was super religious, and things got worse after her husband died, Jimin’s father. The relationship was strained after the tragedy; she never understood her son like her husband could. They were always so close, and it was the end of the world when he passed. She had to learn to properly take care of her son for the first time since he was an infant.

“I know, I know…I’m sorry, Jiminnie,” Taehyung sounded sincere in his apology. “This job is demanding and worsens the longer I’m here.”

“Why? Isn’t your uncle that hotel’s manager? Can’t he cut you a bit of slack?”

“It’s not that simple. There’s too much on the line. So many…”

“Why did you say it like that?”

Jimin straightened up his body as he tried to focus. Background noise started to grow louder. He could hear men talking and then shouting. It got even louder, he had to take his phone away from his ear, and even then, he could still hear them. They sounded like the voices of all older people, and Taehyung began to yell in turn. When Jimin brought the phone back to his ear to listen in curiosity, Taehyung was frantic and trying to end the call immediately.

“I’m sorry, Jiminnie, something has come up, and it’s an emergency. I-I’ll call you back as soon as I can this week.”

The phone line went dead, and the feeling of loneliness quickly returned. Tears streamed down his face as he stared at his phone. Jimin missed his best friend tremendously; he was the only person there for him after his father died. He was the only one left he felt understood him. The younger had longed to see Taehyung. He was happiest most when they were together.

He tossed his phone onto his bed and brought his legs up onto the window sill. He rested his head on his knees and closed his eyes, quietly sobbing. The conversation ended awkwardly and abruptly in every phone call. He felt like he was drifting away from his friend faster than he could process this.

He looked out the window into the backyard of what used to be the Kim Family house. An older woman was outside fixing her garden after the winter ruined the greenery. The sky was a beautiful blue filled with fluffy white clouds. The clouds brought infinite images of beauty, and the trees budded with new leaves fresh for spring.

Jimin wasn’t allowed outside anymore. His mother had grown overprotective in that she didn’t want people to be reminded of who her son was. She pulled him out of school to finish high school from home. She does all the grocery shopping alone, and if Jimin ever needed anything, he had to make a list or get permission to make online purchases.

Maybe the seventeen-year-old wouldn't feel so lonely if his mother hadn't captivated him inside his own house. But instead, after he came out and told his mother about his sexual preferences, she was even more strict about what her son could do. It started after his father died and worsened once Jimin announced he was gay.

Jimin hated how his mother treated him now, knowing he was "different”. However, he was still the same, just with a new-found fascination with men. However, she didn't see it this way and made a huge deal about it. There was endless arguing about how it was only a phase and how Jimin was only confused. But no matter how often he denied these accusations, she didn't want to listen to him. He lied and told her he was bisexual to try and gain some of her respect, but it didn’t work as well as he had hoped. She now considers her son “only half broken” and tries to sway Jimin to like women, so he’s “not on the fence anymore.” She thought her son still had hope of being "normal" again. He knows all she wants is for him to find the perfect girl to marry and have children with, but he knows this is impossible from the bottom of his heart. Jimin felt comfortable talking to Taehyung about this stuff because he always knew he would listen. And now? Now he's trying to understand why they keep contact with each other if he's going to be abandoned. It's become even clearer recently that the elder was always too busy to continue a conversation. As much as Jimin hated to think he was boring his best friend, it was times like this when he felt outcasted and mistreated and needed Taehyung's support the most. But he never stayed to listen. Jimin didn't want to sound clingy towards Taehyung, so he didn't complain all that often aloud. Unlike himself, his friend had a life he needed to maintain. He understood the elder had more important things that were a higher priority than him. He wouldn't have a problem with this if he didn't make everything sound like a lie. Thoughts rolled in and out of his mind. He wanted to talk to someone. Someone other than his mother or Taehyung. Someone who he feels will listen and not pretend to make him happy. Someone who will be able to accept him for who he is as a person and not what their expectations were. But where would he find such a person if his mother controlled his life?

Jimin heard a door slam shut outside; when he looked out, he saw his mother’s small green sedan had pulled into the driveway. He jumped up from the window sill and panicked slightly. He made the room look like he had been working on schoolwork the entire time. He staged notebooks, pens, and sticky notes across his bed after he messily made it first. The old dinosaur of a laptop he was given for school purposes was in his hands as he crossed his legs and placed them in his lap.

Footsteps eventually made their way up the stairs. The louder they got, the deeper Jimin’s stomach sunk. He was afraid of getting shouted at and degraded. He closed his eyes tight and said a little prayer under his breath.

Miss Park called out for her son before knocking and opening the door to the bedroom.

“What?”

"Is that how you talk to me?" She snapped at him, causing her son to straighten himself up awkwardly. He apologized and answered her correctly. "I thought I said I wanted this laundry folded by the time I got back." Instead, she dropped a basket full of clean clothes onto his bed, crushing all his stuff. "What is this still doing in the laundry room?" "But mom, you said after I finished my homework-" Jimin's mother walked out the door, leaving him mid-sentence. He sighed and bit back his tongue. He was not in any mood to fight back. No, not today. After he put the basket onto his floor, he gathered enough courage to follow her out of the room.

The two of them made their way into the kitchen, she had left the few bags from the market on the counter, and Jimin rushed passed his mother to put them away. His mother walked deeper into the kitchen and towards the sink. She let out a heavy breath and hummed aggressively. Jimin knew she was about to complain about something else.

"And these dishes aren't done either." She said, slamming her hand on the counter. "You mean to tell me you were upstairs this entire time doing schoolwork?"

“It’s just a plate and fork,” The seventeen-year-old stated questioningly, wondering if his mother was crazy. “I was going to wait until after dinner to put all the dishes in the dishwasher.”

She disappointedly shook her head and began unloading the market onto the counter and throwing the plastic bags all over the floor. Jimin was frantically trying to pick them up and run around the kitchen putting things away before she started complaining again. He attempted to think of a way to change the subject, but he didn't know what to say.

“I…uh…I got a call from Taehyung today,” He started cautiously, side-eyeing his mother as he walked by. “I-it was a quick call…as I…had to hang up to finish school work.”

She became idle as she turned slowly to turn toward her son. The woman scrutinized Jimin with the intense stare of a stranger who had no regard for trying to mask their unfriendliness or judgment. Miss Park added her son’s words to the metaphorical algorithm she created to criticize him and form opinions.

"You're always on that damn phone." Miss Park complained. "Why don't you get off your dang electronics and do something for once?" "So…should I take this as my permission to go out?" "No." She sternly replied without skipping a beat. “Why don’t you start by doing that laundry I told you to do hours ago?”

Jimin sighed and rolled his eyes. He was annoyed by the way his mother was treating him. It was always like this; her snippy attitude undermined his every word and action. It would be best if you did what she tells you; it's her way or no way, and if you don’t like it, you might as well leave.

“Yes, ma'am,” Jimin huffed in response and sulked his way out of the kitchen.

Jimin was glad she didn’t mention that a boy had called. It must’ve been because she knew Taehyung and his family. And his best friend was also still in the closet before he left. Miss Park doesn’t know that Taehyung is bisexual. She doesn’t know it's his fault Jimin is attracted to men.

He mentioned turning Jimin into his secret “occasional sex partner” before he left. The elder attempted to teach him some things and did him a favor in providing experiences and a good time. However, they only got so far into their relationship before Mister Kim took his first real crush away. Jimin’s stomach started to flutter, and his face began to redden.

Taehyung doesn’t talk about it anymore, so he tries not to think about it often.

“And make sure you finish that reading I assigned to you. I’m quizzing you first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Mmhmm, you got it,” Jimin replied, slowly returning to Earth.

When he was out of sight, Jimin booked it up the stairs. He couldn’t wait to get away from all the negative energy that stained the kitchen. Plus, he didn’t want it to clash with the sudden intrusive thoughts about Taehyung. It wasn’t worth having his mother ruin a fond memory for him with her hostility and pessimism.

The young boy shuffled his way toward his room, not looking forward to having to fold his clothes. If it were up to him, he would throw them into the drawers haphazardly, but then they would be too wrinkled, and his mother would be even more upset with him. But, on the other hand, he didn’t know why it wasn’t like anyone would ever see him and his apparel anyways.

Jimin sat on his messy bed, proceeding to do his chore. He knew that it should’ve been done about an hour ago or so, but when you have more important things to worry about, the annoying chores can and will slip your mind. He tried to ignore the fact that his mother was harsh towards him. Everyone knew she makes and puts on the most significant shows about minor things. The best thing he could do now was to go along with it. He was still living under his mother's roof, therefore having to follow her word. Even if he didn't agree with her or her rules, he still had to respect his mother. No matter how close she drives her son toward the brink of insanity.

He wishes they would finally see eye to eye about everything happening. Or at least respect each other's feelings, choices, or preferences. Jimin admits that he doesn’t understand his mother’s “religious nut” side or that she never seemed to take his father's death as hard as he did. But his judgment upon her was far less extreme than hers was towards him. Folding the clothes calmly, Jimin hummed a song as he worked. He began to think about what life would've been like if his father had still been around. Would he have let his son go out and explore the world? Would he be so hard on Jimin as his mother was when he came out? Instead, he was a fantastic man, quite the opposite personality compared to Miss Park. He was so cheerful, caring, and very friendly. He could talk about anything and everything for hours, never refused to help, and always encouraged an optimistic lifestyle.

Maybe that's why Jimin stayed for so long. Perhaps he believes that there's hope that his mother will come around eventually. He hopes his mother realizes that the relationship she could have with her one and only son isn’t worth losing over her religious beliefs and blatant homophobia.

Just as he finished folding that last article of clothing, Jimin grabbed his phone from under his pillow and leaned back onto the bed. He mindlessly scrolled his way through the social media accounts his mother doesn’t know he had. He never posted photos of himself or his life anyways, as he was too self-conscious to put himself out there due to his mother’s constant demeaning comments toward him.

His feed and timeline consisted of positive quotes and pictures of animals, delicious-looking foods, and famous people. Nothing that exciting, but it helps him get through his rough days. Jimin’s finger, though, brought him to Taehyung’s profile. He hasn’t posted in a while, though, hasn’t even shown him as active online, either.

While not even thinking, Jimin was now finding himself about to leave a message to his friend. “Hey, I would like to talk to you again soon!” he wrote. He couldn’t even fathom why he wrote it or why he was about to consider sending it. It wasn’t like Taehyung would read it, and he would only call when available. Which, according to past experiences, could take weeks.

Jimin’s bubble popped when he heard his mother yelling for him from downstairs. He carefully got up from his bed so as not to knock down the piles of clothes he had just a moment ago messily folded. Then, with the door opened, he shouted back toward her.

“Yes, mom?”

“Make sure you take a bath before dinner." The mother yells from the kitchen. "We have company coming over, so please dress nicely as well." Company? Who in their right mind would want to come here? Jimin was curious and hurriedly made his way down the steps, planning to head into the kitchen to question his mother. The last guests visiting them were when the Kims still lived next door. Almost a year without anyone over; why the sudden change of heart?

It was very puzzling indeed, and Jimin wanted to find out why.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Can you repeat that? "I invited a friend from the church over for dinner. Please get ready and make yourself look presentable." His mother continued to keep her attention on the dinner she was preparing, not even once glancing at her son. "Then why do I have to get dressed if it's your guest? Can't I eat in my room?" Jimin whined, hoping that maybe one time he could get his way. "Stop being rude." She demanded. "I promise it won't be as bad as you might think."

Jimin let out a huff louder than he had intended; he knew this was not true. His mother turned toward him and shot him angry daggers. Her eyes shouted, “you ungrateful brat,” and Jimin knew that was his cue to leave.

Dysfunctional families can be made functional. Jimin has always held onto hope that this was true. Maybe he left room for his mother to self-reflect and improve and realize there had to be adjustments in this household to heal. Her allowing people into the house was a step forward. At least, that's how Jimin sees it.

0 notes

btscontentenjoyer · 2 years ago

Note

This was so emotional and raw and... heartbreaking. There were so many beautiful but hard-hitting lines in here that just made me stop reading and I had to take a deep breath before I could continue. Absolutely stunning honestly.

"And his face. Hells, his face is devastating. Siren eyes staring at him, sucking the breath from Yoongi as he gazes and gazes and gazes. He could stare into Jiimin’s eyes forever, falling head over heels into their bottomless depths as he loses sense of the world." This story starts off just as captivating as Jimin is and stays that way the entire time. I was just drinking every single line in and feeling completely immersed.

And the way you managed to put in so much world building and exposition in such a short time without it ever getting overwhelming or annoying is just so amazing to me. Even just in relatively small glimpses, you made the world sound so interesting.

"Yoongi feels the space between them so much at these times. The first few minutes of seeing him again are always the worst to navigate. Sometimes Jimin is so full of hate that there’s no crossing the rough waters between them. Sometimes Jimin is so full of grief that Yoongi capsizes in the storm." Beautiful! And the many complex and conflicting feelings were described so well that I'm left at a loss for a way to describe the way reading this made me feel as well.

"Love could not have been responsible for Yoongi condemning Jimin to a life of recurring pain. To agony. All for one week of time with him. A single blip in the endless abyss of their lives." </3

"But Yoongi is bad at magic and didn’t realize he bound Jimin to the earth. Not to Yoongi. So Jimin would live on in this hellish cycle even without Yoongi." Seriously this is just heartbreaking 😭😭😭

"It is in his blood, this craving for Jimin. This need, this desire, this unhinged aching feeling that claws at Yoongi’s belly. The same insanity that drove him to destroy Jimin for a single sliver of time and tie him to the mortal world." Gorgeous!!!!!

"When they were just Yoongi and Jimin, not meeting in this weekly cycle of endless misery that he has signed them up for." 😭😭😭😭😭

"Yoongi is left alone and waiting for Jimin’s next visit. For the next time that Jimin is dragged from where he lay flayed, only to exist in the samsara Yoongi has shackled him to." I feel so bad that I can't come up with better words than stunning and heartbreaking but that's all that comes to mind because I'm genuinely at a loss for words. Just know that I really really loved this.

Hello my lovely friend 😌 I’m so so so proud of you and all that you’ve accomplished this past year! And thank you for letting me be a small part of your time here 💜

Also pls give me some unhinged urban fantasy Yoonmin to feed my sick soul 🙏🏽 I love you 😈 보라해

→ Pairing: Half-demon!Yoongi x Demon Lord!Jimin

→ Summary: samsara [sɘm-sӓr-ɘ](noun) : the indefinitely repeated cycles of birth, misery, and death caused by karma. OR: Yoongi has made a terrible mistake that has bound Jimin to a life of endless grief.

→ Word Count: 4,060

→ Type: Request fill for my milestone/anniversary event

→ Genre: Urban fantasy, angst, smut, lovers to not?

→ Main Masterlist: here

→ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

→ Warnings: Vague world-building, mention of guns and Yoongi is restrained the entire time, angst!!!!, Yoongi has fucked over Jimin, references to Christian theology, mentions of scars, Jimin is mean, sexually explicit content including light blood play, restraints, spit play, no anal prep or foreplay, unprotected sex (anal penetration), ONE kiss even though I wanted to write more, very disconnected/angry sex, no aftercare, Yoongi and Jimin are fucking sad!!!! And distant!!!! Not a happy ending really? Just vague.

→ A/N: Jai thank you so much for trusting me to write this for you. I know that the original picture is a little bit more … unhinged and I was planning to go far more unhinged with this, but somehow the poem really made me more angsty and I loved the bit about two-hundred and ten million years of desire wash through me and I really tried to channel that here. I at least still have the image of Yoongi being tied up with Jimin on top of him with a gun lmao. Thank you for being here and making me love writing in this community so much. ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST MEMBER X MEMBER FIC I’VE EVER WRITTEN SO BE FUCKING NICE TO ME PLEASE I’M VERY FUCKING SCARED RIGHT NOW.

Thank you @here2bbtstrash for beta reading and making this perfect ily and I love our totally legit monogamous relationship

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Published: Saturday, April 1

Yoongi might be having a bad night. Really, he knows that it’s fifty-fifty. He can feel the weight of drugs making him sluggish, eyes too heavy to open. There’s a tight squeeze around his arms, which are pinned to his body. When he squirms, he feels the constriction of what he thinks are ropes or cables - it’s hard to tell through the leather of his jacket.

There’s definitely pain blooming from his skull, a throb that beats in time with his heart. It’s part of the reason why he keeps his eyes closed as he tries to suss out the rest of his scenario, tied up and drugged as he is. He can smell the sheets - his own, for sure. That’s his sage shampoo he smells and the soft rub of jersey knit against his cheek.

Tied up, drugged, and in his own bed.

It’s definitely fifty-fifty where this is going to go. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s been drugged and tied up only to receive the best orgasm of his life. However, he has also had his ass beat after fucking up a contract for Hoseok, starting in this exact scenario.

Someone moves in the room. Yoongi keeps his breathing even and soft, feigning sleep as he listens. His hearing is sharper than most, but the footfalls of the other person are inaudible to him. When he hears a sound again, it’s something like a scoff. Purposeful.

They know he’s awake, and they know he’s listening.

Still, Yoongi’s captor doesn’t say anything. The bed dips near Yoongi’s feet. Not significantly, indicating his kidnapper is smaller- can he be kidnapped if he’s home? The soundless way they move rules out humans. Yoongi can’t even hear them breathe as they crawl up his legs, the sound of material scratching against material the only thing he can make out.

Fuck. They’re dressed, which leads Yoongi to believe this isn’t the kind of restraint that leads to fun. He’s a little disappointed, sagging into the bed as the weight of a person - or creature - settles on his waist.

He doesn’t move, waiting for them to make the first move. Yoongi runs through a list of enemies and internally winces. It’s long, and so many of them are recent that he thinks the weight sitting on top of him could be there to collect any number of debts.

Cold metal kisses Yoongi’s cheek. He shivers in response immediately, gut flipping as goosebumps break out up and down his arms. As a half-demon, he’s not as susceptible to temperatures as full humans are, and he’s not invulnerable like a full-blooded demon. But the metal against his skin tingles, vibrating at a frequency that he can barely detect.

Brimstone.

Fuck. The list of enemies that own a gun made with brimstone alloy grows shorter, but Yoongi is none the wiser.

“Come on,” the voice urges, barely above a whisper. “You gonna fucking look at me or what?”

That voice pulls Yoongi’s eyes open immediately, his head turning to blink away the swimming colors and whirling lights as his vision melts into place. His mouth falls open slightly as he looks up to see Jimin peering down at him, head cocked and frowning.

Yoongi’s heart thunders in his chest as he fights between trying to find something to say and drinking in the vision that is Jimin. He looks a little bit different. His hair is longer than it was last time, shorter on the sides than in the back, almost in a mullet but not quite. He’s a slip of a thing but heavy, indicating there’s weight on his wiry frame.

And his face. Hells, his face is devastating. Siren eyes staring at him, sucking the breath from Yoongi as he gazes and gazes and gazes. He could stare into Jiimin’s eyes forever, falling head over heels into their bottomless depths as he loses sense of the world.

Jimin smirks and presses the gun in his hand to Yoongi’s cheek hard enough that the metal is pushing uncomfortably against his cheekbone. Yoongi doesn’t care, gaze sweeping over the rest of his captor. Smug, full lips that are always a natural shade of rose, narrow nose with the perfect rounded tip, and an angry scar that vanishes into the collar of Jimin’s black jacket.

Yoongi turns his attention from the scar before thinking about it and then looks again, not wanting Jimin to notice.

But it’s Jimin. One of the many Lords of Hell. He notices, and the gun digs in a little deeper as Jimin’s face morphs from beautiful to terrible. “What?” Jimin seethes. “Don’t like seeing your work? You should admire it, Yoongi. True fucking art isn’t it?”

“You’re beautiful.” His voice comes out hoarse from disuse. He licks his lips which are dry and cracked. “With and without it.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

Yoongi feels the space between them so much at these times. The first few minutes of seeing him again are always the worst to navigate. Sometimes Jimin is so full of hate that there’s no crossing the rough waters between them. Sometimes Jimin is so full of grief that Yoongi capsizes in the storm.

They are best in the middle. Somewhere between hate and want.

“Why am I all tied up?” He wiggles at the rope. He’s starting to lose feeling in his arms, a soft tingle settling from his elbows to fingers. He looks down at the gun - a pistol, dark black and buzzing with the energy of a Hell-made weapon. “And why is there a gun pointed at me?”

“I thought about killing you.” There’s no sign on Jimin’s face as to whether he means it or not. “Didn’t want to do it while you were asleep, though.”

“A weapon like this would do it.” Yoongi feels his breath catch as something angry flickers in Jimin’s eyes and he feels the need to add, “Permanently. This would kill me permanently.”

“I know.”

It hangs in the air between them, the finality of Jimin’s admission. That he thought about killing Yoongi. Not for the first time over the years they have been playing this game. Sometimes, Jimin even conceded to killing Yooongi. Small deaths. Minor deaths. Impermanent. The kind that sends Yoongi to the edge of Hell where he at least gets to see Namjoon occasionally.

Those meetings are always awkward when the Guardian of Hell sees Yoongi standing in the corner, alone and not in line with others waiting to be sorted. Namjoon always gives him the same smile and pat on the back.

“It’s nice to see you,” Namjoon always says. “Alas, this one isn’t permanent. I’ll see you next time he sends you, yeah?”

Sometimes Yoongi just nods, toeing his boot in the gravel before Namjoon’s eyes go white with light and Yoongi is flooded with blinding pain as he’s sent back topside. Other times, he’s more talkative.

Now, Yoongi stares down the barrel of something that wouldn’t send him to Namjoon. It would send him straight to Seokjin, who has an empty cell waiting for Yoongi.

“Well,” Yoongi murmurs. He looks up to see Jimin watching him. He’s no longer expressionless. There is pain in those eyes - eons of it. Yoongi tries to figure out how to get Jimin away from his grief, how to walk him back toward the safe zone between hatred and… something else. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did it.”

“It wouldn’t fix this.” Jimin’s hand comes up to the rough scar on his neck, jagged and knotted red. “It wouldn’t fix me.”

It’s true. What Yoongi did to keep Jimin will never let him go, even if Yoongi dies. It had been done out of… desire, out of want, out of something that was so confused with love that Yoongi had sacrificed Jimin’s free will to keep him bound to earth, year after year, decade after decade. At the time, Yoongi thought that the word was love. He did it out of love.

Now he knows that love could not do something like this. Love cannot be responsible for Yoongi taking the knife to Jimin’s neck, spilling his blood over the sacred ground to taint it and make it an anchor point. Love could not have driven Yoongi, half-assed in magic, to bind Jimin to earth for longer than he was allowed.

Love could not have been responsible for Yoongi condemning Jimin to a life of recurring pain. To agony. All for one week of time with him. A single blip in the endless abyss of their lives.

Lords cannot walk topside, Jimin had gasped, that wet, death-rattle sound. You cannot undo this.

As a Lord of Hell, Jimin’s time allotted on earth was only snippets of hours. Too powerful to walk the earth, he and the others are only given tiny moments to walk among the living, to see the vitality of life pulsing through the streets.

Punishment for anything longer than that is endless torture at the end of Belial’s fiery whip. It is eons of time passing between eternal lashes and the snatch of one week that Jimin is bound to exist on earth.

It only took a collection of hours for Yoongi to want Jimin - for he cannot call it love, now. Stolen moments pressed so firmly behind Yoongi’s eyes when he sleeps that it makes him dizzy. Makes him sick, to feel and relive the memories.

But Yoongi is bad at magic, and now Jimin is bound to a week on earth once every year. Beyond his allotted limit. Beyond what is allowed. And thus, the cycles of Jimin’s life have been secured: A week on earth between years and years of punishment in Hell for breaking the rules. Eons of time passing differently from that on earth, with Jimin suffering for Yoongi trying to steal more than hours with Jimin.

But Yoongi is bad at magic and didn’t realize he bound Jimin to the earth. Not to Yoongi. So Jimin would live on in this hellish cycle even without Yoongi.

“I should do it,” Jimin murmurs. His eyes are distant and Yoongi knows that Jimin is weighing the consequences.

For one week, he gets to stay here. To do what he wants with his time. Sometimes he spends his week never leaving Yoongi’s bed. Sometimes he spends it inflicting as much pain and suffering on Yoongi as he can. Sometimes, he spends it trying to find a way out from Yoongi, from this.

“But I’ve been living this curse for this long with you. Perhaps I could do it a little longer.”

The words aren’t romantic, but Yoongi’s heart flutters. He watches as Jimin heaves a sigh, pulling the heavy weight of the gun from Yoongi’s cheek. There is a dull throb there, his sensitive skin bruising already as Jimin leans, shifting his weight to put the gun on the table.

Jimin’s movement creates friction against Yoongi’s crotch and his stomach flips, arousal shooting straight to his cock. He hates it, that something as simple as this with Jimin can have that effect. He feels flushed as Jimin settles his weight back on Yoongi, sitting directly on his dick where the blood starts to flow.

Yoongi’s fingers flex, needing to squirm somewhere. He doesn’t dare move his hips, but he needs to move, needs to fidget as the feeling sinks deeper into his stomach.

Jimin looks down at him and it’s the most beautiful thing Yoongi has ever seen. He wouldn’t mind if it were Jimin who sent him to that permanently reserved spot in Hell for him. Yoongi deserves it and has been evading permanent death for almost two hundred years now, as befits the bastard son of Hell’s prince.

Only Jimin can send Yoongi to that place forever, now. Only Jimin has the power and pull to do it without Yoongi’s sire stepping in.

Stupid boy, the Prince of Hell had whispered when Yoongi admitted it to his father, that Wednesday it was raining some time ago. Anchoring a Lord to this mortal plane. I will not let him go unpunished. Not for you, not for him. He will suffer like the others, and so will you, should he decide he’s had enough of you and your endless folly.

Yoongi always wonders when Jimin will decide he’s had enough. He hopes it’s not tonight, though. Not with the way Jimin’s face has softened, finally drifting away from grief and despair to something else.

“I’m tired,” Jimin admits. He drops his hands to fiddle with the hem of Yoongi’s shirt. Delicate fingers brush against hot skin and Yoongi can’t help but wiggle his hips this time. He lets out a sound between a sigh and a whine and the corner of Jimin’s mouth lifts as he watches Yoongi through half-lidded eyes. “Alright, then.”

Shadow fills the room. Yoongi looks to see that night has blocked out the window. Inside his room, it’s just Jimin’s pressing shadow and a single lamp glowing over by the door. Somehow, Yoongi feels comforted by the throbbing of Jimin’s shadow magic and the way that Jimin’s hands drift to unbutton his jeans.

Yoongi’s breath is stuck in his chest as Jimin’s small fingers work the zipper. Jimin has always been small, but mighty. A force to be reckoned with, a shadow storm beneath skin. It’s what Yoongi loved - admired - most about Jimin. How he moves through the world unchallenged and respected. How he loves when Yoongi fights him, challenges him, and questions him as no one else dares.

Now, Yoongi doesn’t think Jimin admires Yoongi’s challenges. It was Yoongi’s challenge to rules and fate that got them into this reincarnated week of hell.

Whatever was between them had died a long time ago. But there is still want, and as Yoongi’s jeans scrap down his thighs and he shivers when Jimin nips at his knee, the want is all he can think about.

It is in his blood, this craving for Jimin. This need, this desire, this unhinged aching feeling that claws at Yoongi’s belly. The same insanity that drove him to destroy Jimin for a single sliver of time and tie him to the mortal world.

Jimin doesn’t untie Yoongi. It makes Yoongi a little dizzy as Jimin shucks his jeans all the way off, leaning forward to bite savagely into the meat of Yoongi’s thigh. He cries out, both in pain and a bolt of pleasure. He’s hard now, cock throbbing as Jimin’s breath ghosts over Yoongi’s thighs. Jimin leans back, eyes locking on Yoongi as he sheds his clothes.

It’s a sight to see. Jimin had been an angel once, before that long one-trip fall. He can see the grace in Jimin’s beauty. Soft cheeks and lips, supple thighs and ass, ribbon curves like a dancer. But there’s shadow too, the hard cut of Jimin’s jaw, the sharpness of his eyes as they land on Yoongi, the powerful muscle corded in his compact body.

Yoongi very much feels like prey as Jimin kneels on the bed, naked. He’s beautiful, a rendition of Michaelangelo’s David but with a much bigger cock, thick and brown at the tip, dripping beads of precum. Yoongi makes a needy sound. He doesn’t mean to, but it comes out when he sees how hard Jimin is.

“Shut up,” Jimin bites out and Yoongi bites his lip hard. Doesn’t make a sound, though his feet dig into the bed and he’s hot all over, suffocating as he’s naked from the waist down and trapped in a jacket and shirt. He wants Jimin to take the rest off, to feel Jimin’s skin. “Don’t be a whore.”

Yoongi is dizzy. He wants to be a whore, if it gets him closer. If he has to act like one to get the damn clothes off, he thinks he just might. But he gets distracted, watching as Jimin fists his cock, pumping leisurely and tilting his head back, golden lamplight painting him, making him glow.

Golden boy, so full of pain.

Jimin stops stroking himself to crawl up Yoongi’s body. Yoongi holds his breath as Jimin cages him in, leaning forward so their noses are almost touching. Yoongi searches for softness in Jimin’s eyes, but there is none. Not for him, not anymore. Want, sure. Desire, sure. But nothing more than the craving for Yoongi in Jimin’s blood.

Jimin’s cock brushes against Yoongi’s and even the barest hint of skin on skin sends a zap of pleasure down his spine and he bites his bottom lip, trying to keep quiet like asked. He tastes metal and salt in his mouth, lip bleeding from the force of his bite.

“Just one,” Jimin says, more to himself than to Yoongi.

And then Jimin kisses him and nothing else matters.

Jimin’s tongue tangles with Yoongi’s in a lick of warmth and blood. Yoongi’s world spins as their mouths melt together, slow and heated. There’s no air in his lungs and he doesn’t care, lifting his head, sucking Jimin’s tongue into his mouth.

Yoongi’s neck and chest feel hot and the room is tilted on its axis when Jimin rolls his hips against Yoongi’s. He moans into Jimin’s mouth, his skin tingling as pleasure curls through him, cock leaking and sticky against Jimin’s as he continues to devour Yoongi’s mouth.

It feels like he’s in a shitty hotel room stealing a moment with Jimin again, frotting against one another in a rush of heat and borrowed time. He wiggles his arms, trying to free himself, trying to grab a hold of Jimin and feel him. He wants so badly to-

Jimin pulls away and Yoongi’s eyes snap open. Blood is smeared across Jimin’s mouth and he’s not looking Yoongi in the eye.

“Jimin-”

“No,” he answers, not looking up. He spits in his hand, fluid tinged pink from Yoongi’s blood in his mouth. He closes his eyes and leans back, stroking himself a few times with one hand as he pushes Yoongi’s thighs open with another. “I said one.”

Yoongi realizes what he meant now. One kiss. It was all he was allowing Yoongi to have. Or perhaps, all he was willing to take.

Grief threatens to take away the vibration under Yoongi’s skin from the feeling of Jimin against him, but he ignores it in favor of squirming when Jimin grabs his cock and prods Yoongi’s tight rim. He grinds his teeth, realizing Jimin isn’t going to prep him or stretch him wide before fucking him. Yoongi deserves the pain, he supposes.

Instead of begging Jimin to wait, Yoongi opens his legs wider. Doesn’t complain that he’s still tied up for Jimin to do what he wants, still half-clothed and unable to feel anything except the pulsing throb of his cock and Jimin’s tip breaching the tight ring of Yoongi’s ass.

The burn is intense. Yoongi holds his breath and squeezes his eyes shut, unable to think beyond the ringing in his ears and the way Jimin pushes into him. Yoongi tries to relax but can’t, his body shivering as it flips between pain and pleasure. Jimin is at least slow, the push of his cock against Yoongi’s tight walls both delicious and terrible all at once.

Yoongi’s vision dances in front of him, pulses black at the edges. He gasps, suddenly remembering to breathe as Jimin bottoms out, holding all of his weight where his hips rest against Yoongi’s ass, waiting and letting Yoongi spasm around him. His walls hug Jimin’s cock tight. His muscles twitch and scream at the intrusion.

It hurts but Yoongi doesn’t care. It’s good - better than good. He is so so full, Jimin buried inside of him, and he’s kicking his feet on the bed, needing more, wanting more. He doesn’t know if he says it or if Jimin is done waiting because he pulls back, cock dragging against Yoongi and he nearly passes out with relief.

Yoongi is seeing stars, fingers gripping the bottom of his shirt as Jimin starts to fuck him in earnest. Yoongi’s breath punches out of him with every snap of Jimin’s hips, as though the Lord of Hell can fuck the oxygen from his lungs. It feels like he is, hitting deep inside Yoongi where he swears only Jimin can reach.

Jimin is vicious, hands clawing the sheets as he leans forward and slams into Yoongi, the smacking of his hips drowning out Yoongi’s gasping breath. He feels like he’s being driven to the edge of madness, tight rim swallowing Jimin’s cock whole.

Shadows dance around Jimin. They curl at his collarbone, hiding his scar from Yoongi. They drift around his arms, and ghost over his flexing stomach. Both Jimin and his shadows don’t touch Yoongi though, and if he wasn’t so fucked out from the feeling of finally having Jimin back, he might cry.

Maybe he will later.

The burn lessens as Jimin jostles Yoongi suddenly. The contact is brief and cold - he realizes Jimin moved him with his shadows rather than with his hands. He swallows hard as Jimin pushes his sweaty hair back with one hand, never stopping the fluid roll of his hips fucking into Yoongi. Yoongi’s mind turns to white noise at the sight.

He goes to reach for Jimin and remembers he’s tied up. Yoongi notes he has no feeling in his arms but he doesn’t care, not when Jimin adjusts his stroke and fuck. His cock hits Yoongi just right, pressing against his prostate and Yoongi starts to babble.

This time, Jimin doesn’t tell Yoongi to shut up. He lets the slurred string of noises leave Yoongi’s mouth as Yoongi starts to go slack under Jimin, letting the pleasure drag him under. He feels lost in it, swimming in this feeling that ebbs and ebbs and ebbs until it’s a pulsing inferno that feels like it's going to corrode him from the inside out.

“Come on,” Jimin grunts, teeth clenched. “Come for me. Just like you know how to.”

Just like you know how to.

Suddenly, Yoongi is back to before.

When they were just Yoongi and Jimin, not meeting in this weekly cycle of endless misery that he has signed them up for.

When Jimin would catch Yoongi late at night, slipping in with his shadows to wake Yoongi up.

When Jimin would fuck Yoongi to desperation, sweaty chests pressed together and moving in the moonlight coming in from the window.

When Yoongi would come, cock pressed between the two of them, sticky and messy, and mouth tangled with Jimin, the slow push of Jimin’s cock making Yoongi insane.

Yoongi’s eyes flutter open. He wants to see Jimin. He knows he’s about to come, that fire inside of him ready to unleash. But he wants to see Jimin as he does it. As if that will make it better, this detached, feral thing that exists between them.

Jimin is a vision. He hovers over Yoongi, a being of shadow and light, stuck somewhere in between. He is so beautiful and impermanent. Yoongi only gets these moments in flashes, when their paths cross inevitably. When Jimin comes to find him, that one week of the year.

There is salt on Yoongi’s tongue when he comes with Jimin’s name shaped in his mouth. He realizes he’s crying. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last. Jimin doesn’t notice or doesn’t say anything, chasing his high with a furious snap of his hips and a snarl on his face.

Yoongi fades. His eyes roll back as he drifts somewhere else, letting Jimin use him for his orgasm. He hears him growl once, slamming into Yoongi so deep that it pulls him just a little from the dreamless, listless haze of his comedown.

At some point, he thinks he falls asleep. Or maybe something like sleep, because he vanishes from the room, but he feels Jimin pull out. Feels the wet gush of his hole, feels the afterburn of Jimin’s visit.

But when he opens his eyes, there’s no one there. There are no shadows, there is no Jimin. The illusion of being able to have anything with Jimin shatters. Yoongi knows it will keep shattering, a mirror broken in an endless cycle of misfortune.

Yoongi is left alone and waiting for Jimin’s next visit. For the next time that Jimin is dragged from where he lay flayed, only to exist in the samsara Yoongi has shackled him to.

#wow!#yoongi fic recs #jimin fic recs #mem x mem recs #ivi reads

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