#reader: female

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

🐴Chapter summary: You haven’t talked to Jimin in months— he has been successful in avoiding you since he saw Yoongi kiss you. But when a charity gala forces you together, will you erupt like an active volcano? 🐴Chapter title: Take the Rain Away 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: yelling and curse words 🤭 Jin’s pink slipper is finally here (though it’s not him wielding it lol) 🩴 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 8.2k

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

🛑 psa to all you lovely people on the taglist, I’ve seen that some of you aren’t interacting… I’m wondering if you’re still reading or not— do you wish to be removed from the taglist? It’s okay if you don’t like it anymore, I can remove you if you want to 🛑

🐴Now playing 💿 “Take the Rain Away” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: can you tell I wrote this chapter while severely depressed (as I did the previous)? 🥲 But, it was very easy to channel all my feelings into it, so I wrote it in like a day while crying most of the time. But here it is! Also, again I’m sorry. I’m really going through it and dealing with my depression, so I’m sorry if I take longer to reply… I do look at your messages though! I don’t know, life is hard and I’m waiting to get a referral from my doctor… all that shit takes such a freaking long time! But yeah, I’m still struggling, but I’m doing my best to hang in there; bad days and a few good days finally. Thank you all so much for reading and for sticking with the story, tbh there were a few times in the latest chapters where I just wanted to delete it all and stop posting.. But yeah, thank fuck🫂 Also… I really hope you’ll love the next chapter and please don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts in either a comment or a reblog ☀️💦 🐴Author’s note #2: I'm sorry… today I'm feeling extremely emotional and anxious. It’s making me cry and my head is so heavy with a lot of thoughts… I hope you still like the chapter, right now I’m afraid it’s crap, so I’ll go hide (don't mind me, this is 50% my anxiety speaking). See ya on Thursday lovelies!

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

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

“Take the rain away Take the rain away Give me hope Give me love Make it sweet from above Take the rain away Oh take the rain away Give me praise Give me heart Take the rain away”- ‘Take the Rain Away’ by Rebecca Lavelle

The rain pelts on your windows, a rhythmic symphony against the glass that serves as the melodic backdrop to your dance with the paintbrush. Each stroke elicits a clench in your heart, a poignant harmony with the emotions that escape onto the canvas. Despite a tear finding its way down your cheek, you persist. The canvas becomes a vibrant tapestry, weaving through an array of red hues, from the delicate blush of pink to the profound richness of vermillion. In this intimate dance, you surrender to the guidance of the brush, allowing the strokes to tell a story only your heart understands.

The paintbrush becomes the voice of your unspoken thoughts, an ethereal extension of your mind that guides you through an escape. It whisks you away to an alternate reality, a place where joy and serenity prevail. Yet, as you gaze upon your canvas, the illusion shatters – a mosaic of red tones, a stark reflection of your inner turmoil. You’re aware of the truth it conceals, reluctant to acknowledge the lingering ache for a man who remains silent, a man whose choices have been clear and that choice wasn’t you. But why the heck would he decide to date someone that looks like you?

The baffling revelation still eludes you, a persistent enigma that has gnawed at your thoughts for days since the girls disclosed it. The meaning behind it remains a puzzle, and you find yourself grappling with the uncertainty. There’s an urge to confront Jimin, to seek answers, but the apprehension holds you back. 

Instead, you retreat to the solace of your bedroom, losing yourself in the strokes of your paintbrush. Each canvas becomes a testament to your emotional turmoil, saturated in shades of red that echo anger and sadness. The thought of whether anyone would buy these artworks fades into insignificance; the therapeutic process takes precedence, offering a semblance of peace in the midst of your inner storm.

For a solid week, the relentless rain has played its melancholic symphony, a constant companion to your shifting moods. While you don’t inherently despise the rain, its prolonged presence begins to cast a subtle veil of gloom. The weather, once a neutral backdrop, now becomes a weight on your shoulders, a persistent force tugging at the edges of your mind, leaving a trace of subtle melancholy in its wake.

Perhaps a twinge of bitterness creeps in, accompanied by an admission of jealousy as you observe Jungkook becoming a frequent overnight guest. Their shared moments are anything but discreet, the resonance of their love making echoing through the walls. You’ve mastered the art of drowning out those sounds, resorting to nocturnal strolls when needed. In the depths of your heart, you yearn for the same intimacy, but with Jimin. 

You sigh, feeling utterly deflated. Life never goes the way to want it to. Why can’t you just have something good happening for once?

In the dead of night, raindrops patter on your skin as you venture out once more for a solitary walk. The rhythmic percussion of raindrops becomes a welcome reprieve, drowning out the less-than-subtle sounds emanating from your sister’s room. Ugh. it’s just great— now you can’t stand people in love anymore! Despite your genuine happiness for your sister and Jungkook, witnessing their affectionate gestures becomes a bitter pill to swallow. The kisses, the embraces, the whispered words—all of it, a poignant reminder of what you yearn for with Jimin. 

If only you could have that.

You know that jealousy is a nasty feeling and it leaves you feeling bitter inside.

The rain penetrates your jacket, seeping through to your skin—a subtle reminder of your lack of preparation. Cursing under your breath, you navigate through the yard, each step burdened with the weight of your drenched attire. As you reach one of the paddocks, darkness envelops you, the atmosphere dense and humid, mirroring the warmth and heaviness echoing in your chest. Yet, you yearn for this feeling to dissipate, much like the wishful thought that the rain will cease, allowing the sun to once again cast its hopeful rays upon you.

Lifting your gaze to the sky, the night sky unfolds above you, a vast canvas adorned with innumerable stars shimmering in their cosmic dance. A sigh escapes your lips, a blend of appreciation and melancholy. The celestial display, though undeniably beautiful, carries a bittersweet weight tonight, stirring emotions that twirl like distant constellations in the vast expanse above.

With the rain as your shield, you ponder whether it’s safe to return inside again or not. Opting to let the rhythmic dance of raindrops cloak you further, you choose the soothing drumbeat of rain over the potential moans echoing through the walls. It’s better to give them more time to finish whatever they are doing, instead of going back and having to listen to it.

As the rain clings to your clothes and skin, an uncomfortable yet strangely welcomed sensation, you yearn for more than just the soothing touch of the downpour. Hoping against hope, you wish the rain could wash away the turmoil in your chest, or perhaps, deliver to you the one thing you crave and need the most—love. 

Jimin.

In the recesses of your heart, the truth echoes loudly— he is the one meant for you, and the regret gnaws at your soul for not confessing your feelings earlier. The fear of disrupting and jeopardizing his current relationship hangs heavy, a bitter pill you swallow. His decision is made, and you must bear the weight of it. 

Frustration clenches your hands as you yearn for a conversation, a connection—anything to breach the walls he’s created, leaving you to wonder why he’s avoiding you or won’t acknowledge you at all.

As your breath quickens, tears intertwine with the raindrops on your cheeks, a blurred fusion where your own sorrows become indistinguishable from the weeping sky.

Your clothes cling to you, saturated by the persistent rain, and you decide it’s time to retreat from the star-studded night. With a silent farewell to the celestial display, you make your way back into the house, yearning for the solace of a quiet room, and silently hoping your sister and Jungkook have concluded their love making.

As you open the door and traverse the hallway, the muffled exchange of hushed voices reaches your ears, causing your heart to sink. Determined, you press on and step into your bedroom, conveniently situated next to your sister’s. Lately, you’ve cursed this proximity, contemplating the idea of seeking refuge downstairs in the guestroom.

The rhythmic creaking of the bed and muted moans persist, making you release a weary sigh, hastily snatching your pillow to shield your ears from the intimate sounds infiltrating the air.

Morning arrives, and you’re weary, having fallen asleep with the pillow cocooned around your head. Your once-neat hair now resembles a bird’s nest, and your body, feeling rigid and sore, yearns for the elusive embrace of a restful night’s sleep.

Fatigue clinging to every step, you drag your weary body to the bathroom, performing the mundane rituals of brushing teeth and washing your face. The mirror mercilessly reflects the under-eye bags, taunting reminders of restless nights. A scoff escapes your lips as you splash water on your face, a futile attempt to shake off the lingering exhaustion and rouse yourself from the morning haze.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Jungkook steps out of your sister’s room, wearing a sheepish yet gentle smile. Weariness etched on your features, you respond with a weary nod, acknowledging his presence.

Apology etched in his expression, he inquires, “Did we disturb your sleep?” 

Concern lines his face, yet beneath the surface, a subtle smirk plays on his lips as his eyes sweep over your tired form.

“It’s fine,” you sigh, the weight of exhaustion evident in your voice, though deep down, you acknowledge that ’fine’ is a distant echo from the truth. 

“We’ll keep it down,” he assures, a warm smile gracing his features as he absentmindedly scratches his head. A soft chuckle escapes you, an acknowledgment of the genuine sweetness and kindness that radiate from him.

“Jungkook, really, you don’t have to worry. I’ll grab some earplugs or whatever,” you laugh, the sound devoid of true joy. Despite your attempts at humor, each forced smile or chuckle only serves as a reminder of the hollowness and sorrow settling in your chest.

Jungkook gives you a reluctant nod, a silent acknowledgment of your weariness and the deflated emotions you carry. With a heavy heart, you retreat into your room to get dressed, the weight of the morning and the unresolved thoughts lingering in the air.

As you descend and enter the kitchen, the comforting aroma of Ha-rin’s nearly finished breakfast fills the air. Offering a hand, you assist her in setting up the table in the cozy dining room. The rarity of having everyone gather for a meal is not lost on you; usually, you’re consumed by solitary, hurried bites as the demands of the ranch beckon. However, today unfolds differently, marked by an unusual slowness in the rhythm of ranch life.

“You look tired,” she observes with a gentle concern in her voice as the two of you collaborate in setting the table. A soft chuckle escapes you, a mixture of acknowledgment and self-deprecating humor. It’s as if they’ve pointed out the obvious—yes, you’re aware you don’t look your best, but must they bring attention to it?

“Thanks. Jungkook and Jessi kept me up again,” you respond with a weariness that seeps into both your voice and posture, a tiredness underscored by a stifled yawn.

As you turn your head, Jungkook and Jessi stand in the doorframe, wearing apologetic expressions that mirror the remorse evident in their eyes.

“We’re sorry,” your sister offers a sincere smile as she pulls out a chair, settling down. Jungkook follows suit, immediately diving into the meal with an eagerness that hints at his hunger.

“It’s fine,” you brush off their apologies with weary eyes and a nonchalant wave. “At least you’re getting some,” you jest, but an awkward hush descends upon the room. The atmosphere turns dense, and their uncertain expressions reveal they’re unsure how to react. “Don’t mind me; I’m just... frustrated. Not at you, though!” you quickly reassure them, taking a seat and joining in the meal.

For a few minutes, an uncomfortable silence descends, wrapping around the room like an unwelcome guest. It’s the kind of awkward stillness that feels stifling and peculiar, and you find yourself yearning for someone to break it, to utter anything to shatter the tension lingering in the air.

“We actually have something to tell you,” your sister begins, and as you meet her eyes, you notice a sparkle of excitement, maybe even love, dancing in them. Her happiness is contagious; a radiant smile graces her lips, and a delicate pink hue adorns her cheeks, complementing her beautifully. It’s a sight that warms your heart, pulling a genuine smile from you in return.

Jungkook gently moves his hand over Jessi’s, giving it a tender squeeze, and his eyes gleam with a radiant light, an unmistakable shimmer of affection, you presume. Their laughter dances in the air, and their shared smiles are like a silent declaration of the love that binds them.

“We’ve been meaning to share something with you,” your sister begins, her voice laced with a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Jungkook and I are dating,” she announces, and you can’t help but feel your smile broaden. You observe the subtle exchange of glances between them, a blend of happiness and nervousness, as if unsure of how you’ll react to this newfound chapter in their relationship.

Your eyes glisten with unshed tears, and you can’t help but beam, your emotions laid bare. “That makes me so happy to hear!” A single tear escapes, and you playfully scold yourself, but deep down, you’re overwhelmed with joy for your sister and Jungkook.

Your sister’s concern deepens as she leans in, her eyes reflecting worry. “Are you okay with this? You seem a bit sad…”

With tear-streaked cheeks, you point to your clearly emotional face, chuckling through the joyful tears. “This? I’m just thrilled for you. I just... wish I had that too. But I’m genuinely happy for you.” Sniffling, you manage a smile, though your plate is nearly obscured by your overwhelming emotions.

Jungkook, your sister, and Ha-rin exchange concerned glances, but wisely refrain from prying further. You believe they’ve caught on; your weeks of moping and the emotional rollercoaster have left little room for secrets. It’s ridiculous, you scold yourself internally, navigating the intricate maze of your own emotions. The irony of grieving a relationship that never truly existed weighs heavy on your chest, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow for what could have been.

Genuine happiness radiates within you for their newfound relationship, and you don’t perceive it as strange. Sure, there was a fleeting encounter with Jungkook, as Jessi pointed out, but it was just that—a passing moment. You never harbored romantic feelings for him; your joy stems from seeing them genuinely happy together. Yet, an undeniable pang echoes in your heart, a yearning for that elusive connection you witness in them, to have that special someone— and that someone is Jimin.

Caught in the whirlwind of conflicting emotions, you grapple with the uncertainty of your feelings for Jimin. Every attempt to navigate this emotional maze has hit a dead end – avoiding him, attempting conversations that fall on deaf ears, and even embracing silence only to be met with his intense gaze. 

The enigma that is Jimin remains beyond your comprehension. Your desire for him lingers, leaving you in a perplexing predicament with no clear path forward.

“Relax your shoulders,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the rhythmic sounds of hooves against the earth, offering guidance as a fiery-red mare gracefully circles you in the pen. Perched atop the fence, Yoongi, accompanied by Hoseok, shares his insights. Lately, with the challenging task of taming wild horses, Hoseok has become an invaluable ally, contributing his skill and energy to the shared pursuit.

His involvement extends beyond mere assistance; he actively contributes to the preparations, occasionally joining your rides and, on other occasions, simply sharing moments as you engage in the day’s tasks. Today, he observes with keen interest, his presence an unspoken support in the rhythm of your work.

You attempt to find your focus, and you let your shoulders sag, reminding yourself of the importance of a calm and clear mind in handling the unpredictable nature of the horses. Despite your efforts, stress and frustration linger, making the task more challenging. Today seems particularly difficult. Your gaze repeatedly drifts toward Yoongi and Hoseok, seated closely. The air between them carries a subtle tension, Yoongi fidgeting with his shirt, an uncharacteristic unease marking his demeanor. It’s funny how being around someone you like can change the way you behave.

You let out a soft chuckle, finding Yoongi’s crush on Hoseok endearing. The uncertainty of whether Hoseok reciprocates, or even what his preferences are— if he’s into men, women or both. You have no clue, but you genuinely hope that Hoseok shares Yoongi’s feelings; knowing that Yoongi could use a guy like Hoseok in his life.

The red mare’s whinny echoes through the air as it breaks into a wild gallop, gracefully navigating the pen with powerful bucks. This one, a recent addition, demands more patience than its counterparts. However, you embrace the challenge, recognizing that each horse is unique, and you’re willing to invest the time needed to build trust and understanding.

You let the spirited mare run around the pen, attempting to divert your attention from its antics. Instead, your gaze returns to the two men on the fence. They’re engaged in casual conversation, possibly about work, but the genuine smile on Yoongi’s face has an inexplicable effect on your heart. Hoseok’s eyes light up at every word from Yoongi, and it feels as if your heart could burst into a garden of blossoming flowers. In that moment, you yearn for a connection as beautiful and captivating as the one unfolding before you.

As your gaze drifts, it travels up to the yard, settling on the house that holds the thoughts of the man who occupies your every waking moment—Jimin. The silence between you two persists, leaving you in a state of anticipation. Every now and then, you catch glimpses of him with Deiji, their laughter echoing through the air. Despite the small flower in your chest withering at the sight, you remind yourself it’s okay, even though anger still lingers.

“Watch out!” Hoseok shouts, leaping down from the fence with Yoongi in tow. Before you can react, you find yourself sprawled on the ground with a thud. A frustrated groan escapes your lips as you rub your back, rolling over to your side.

You spot Yoongi approaching the red mare, hands raised in the air, skillfully redirecting its attention away from you. Meanwhile, Hoseok is already down on his knees beside you. As your eyes flutter open, a wave of confusion washes over you.

Concern fills Hoseok’s voice as he asks, “Are you okay?” 

Your gaze meets his, lingering confusion evident. Meanwhile, Yoongi persists in his attempt to soothe the red mare, now employing a gentler approach, his words whispered in a hushed tone.

Your eyes lock with Hoseok’s as you ask, “What happened?” 

His outstretched hand becomes your anchor, pulling you up into a sitting position, your fingers instinctively rubbing your sore back again.

His words hit you, “The horse ran you over,” accompanied by a subtle chuckle. Yet, his eyes reveal a deeper concern as he carefully scans you, ensuring that you’re genuinely okay.

You glance around in confusion at the sandy expanse of the pen. 

“It did?” you inquire, perplexed, your gaze shifting down to the ground where you find yourself. You must have blacked out or something. You assess your body, feeling a general lack of pain, at least not as much as you expected.

“I think I’m fine,” you assure Hoseok, allowing him to help you up as you stand. You dust off the sand from your pants and shirt, trying to regain a sense of composure.

Yoongi, having calmed the mare, walks over to you. “Are you sure you’re fine?” he asks, raising a brow as he looks you up and down. You chuckle, dismissing any concern with a wave of your hand. There’s no need for a fuss over a simple fall.

“I’m fine. I was just pushed. No biggie!” you declare, gesturing with your hands to reassure them that everything is under control.

“Maybe we should take a look at you at the house?” Hoseok suggests, and you instantly flinch, a wave of apprehension washing over you.

“Oh god no. I’m fine, and I really don’t want to go in there,” you state firmly, a pressed smile on your face. The last thing you need is to see Jimin with Deiji again; better to stay clear of them, as you’ve been doing recently. Both Yoongi and Hoseok laugh, and you notice the way they look at each other, as if there’s something you’ve missed. For a split second, you feel left out before joining in the laughter yourself.

You ask Yoongi to finish working on the red mare while you and Hoseok take a seat on top of the fence. From there, you observe him letting the horse run about, much like you did earlier. Yoongi always appears so relaxed when he’s working. His ability to keep his mind sealed off and clear during tasks is incredible. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for you or Hoseok. The dynamic between the three of you is unique, each with your own way of approaching the work at hand.

The happy-go-lucky man next to you appears captivated by watching Yoongi work; his eyes shine as bright as the sun. The way he holds his breath, as if the air is too thick with something, sparks a glimmer of hope within you. Perhaps it’s because he might harbor feelings for Yoongi.

You meticulously apply eyeliner and mascara, ensuring you look flawless. Returning to your room, your eyes fall upon the elegant purple satin gown laid out on your bed. The floor-length attire boasts a sweetheart neckline, perfectly complemented by a pair of carefully chosen low heels that you gracefully slip into.

Before stepping out, you steal a moment to gaze at your reflection in the mirror, and what stares back at you is nothing short of captivating.

As you step outside your door, you encounter your sister, adorned in a floor-length gown of deep blue that borders on the verge of velvety blackness.

“Wow, you look stunning,” you compliment your sister, and she responds with a soft smile, her fingers nervously dancing with the edges of her purse.

“Thanks, you look incredible too,” she smiles warmly, and together you descend the stairs to join the other girls.

Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin await you downstairs, adorned in stunning gowns for the night’s gala in town. The charity event, featuring an auction, aims to raise funds for the local hospital’s children’s ward. Ara stuns in a radiant red dress, Soo-ah elegantly dons baby blue, prompting you to ponder if it’s her favorite color, and Ha-rin exudes sophistication in a black gown. The quartet, a vision of beauty, gathers in the kitchen, the air buzzing with excitement for the glamorous night ahead.

“Ready for an enchanting evening, everyone?” you inquire, casting a smile across the group, your eyes dancing with anticipation.

“Yeah!” Soo-ah cheers with infectious joy, and without a second thought, you all rush to the door, hitch up your dresses, and dash into the yard, the relentless rain already kissing your gowns with its playful touch.

You hastily hop into the car, and Jessi swiftly ignites the engine, reversing out of the yard. The rain’s symphony dances on the windshield, while the sun gracefully sets, painting the sky in captivating shades of gold and pink.

Jessi navigates the road with precision, and the group settles into a comfortable ease. Casual conversations and light-hearted jokes fill the air, yet your mind strays elsewhere, tethered to thoughts of Jimin. Anticipating his presence at the gala, you resolve to keep a careful distance, aware that the crowd might offer a shield for the avoidance you seek.

Navigating the rain-drenched roads adds extra time to your journey into town, but finally, you pull up in front of City Hall. The building itself seems to have donned its best attire for the occasion, adorned with banners and a vibrant red carpet that unfurls invitingly through the grand entrance.

As Jessi skillfully parks the car, you hastily step out, seeking refuge under the overhang of the building to escape the relentless rain. A quick scan of the parking lot reveals the presence of Jimin and Jungkook’s trucks, instantly causing a pang in your chest. The prospect of encountering Jimin tonight tightens your heart, and you brace yourself for the emotional storm that might follow.

“Ugh I fucking hate the rain,” Soo-ah groans beside you, her disdain for the downpour resonating with your own sentiments. Your chuckle, a small escape from the damp reality, lingers in the misty air.

Ensuring everyone is prepared, you lead the way into the grand hall. The opulence hits you instantly – a symphony of golds and reds creating a lavish spectacle. The vast space is adorned with small, round tables draped in rich red cloth, each topped with flickering candles. Towards the front, a podium commands attention, surrounded by carefully curated art pieces. Among them, proudly displayed, are a couple of your own paintings, awaiting their moment in tonight’s charitable auction.

Approaching the guys, you’re met with a sight to behold—Jungkook impeccably clad in a black tux adorned with subtle stripes, while Yoongi and Hoseok exude charm in their tuxedos, each strand of hair meticulously styled. Embracing them warmly, your attention shifts to Jimin, not far off, accompanied by his stunning girlfriend. The duo radiates elegance, and you can’t help but curse Jimin silently for his undeniable allure— his ass looks so good in those pants. His tux drapes his frame flawlessly, accentuating every curve, and you catch yourself practically drooling before quickly averting your eyes.

Spotting his gaze directed your way, you respond with a silent nod. Despite your desire to keep your distance, you choose the path of politeness, offering this small acknowledgment in the crowded elegance of the gala.

The room swells with a mix of familiar faces and strangers. Across the expanse, you catch sight of Namjoon and Seokjin at a neighboring table. With a warm smile, you extend a friendly wave in their direction.

As the auction commences, you navigate through the crowd toward a table, silently grateful for opting for low heels to spare your feet. A glass of champagne in hand, you join Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, and Ara at a table. Meanwhile, Ha-rin has engaged in a lively conversation with Namjoon and Seokjin across the room, their friendship evident even from a distance.

Jessi and Jungkook are stationed at a table alongside Jimin and Deiji, and a scoff escapes you when your gaze lands on Jimin. The silence between you two remains, a lack of surprise settling in as a familiar companion at this point.

He appears incredibly alluring, like a full-course meal, and something stirs within your veins—a concoction of anger and jealousy, perhaps. The desire to speak to him, to feel his touch, clashes with the urge to tear him apart. Later, the thought of dancing with him lingers, but the awkwardness stemming from his radio silence and the undeniable truth that he isn’t yours keeps you at a wary distance.

The auctioneer’s voice becomes a distant murmur, his words lost in the whirl of paintings and various items on the stand. Your attention, however, is not tethered to the auction; instead, it’s ensnared by the intensity in Jimin’s gaze. The way his eyes lock onto yours mirrors a familiarity, reminiscent of the look he gave you weeks ago during Jessi’s cast celebration dinner. The unspoken depth in his eyes unsettles you, inducing a subtle sweat, nervous energy, and an involuntary gulp.

With no refuge in sight, you attempt to anchor yourself in the rhythm of your heartbeat, a desperate bid to quell the storm of emotions swirling within you.

Indeed— sin personified gazes your way, but what does it matter? His silence, his refusal to engage, grates on your last nerves. You know you’re at an auction right now, and it would be weird to talk at this event, but dammit, he could just come over and ask you for a talk, pull you off to another room. Anything, really. 

A sly smile graces your lips as Yoongi playfully nudges your shoulder, and you, in turn, lean into the comfort of his presence. A subtle shift in Jimin’s gaze doesn’t go unnoticed, the intensity of his eyes deepening as the unspoken tension weaves through the air.

Hoseok playfully nudges you as your vibrant red painting graces the auction stage. Surprisingly, an elegant elderly lady becomes enamored with it, bidding generously and claiming it as her own. Gratitude swells within you, knowing that the proceeds will contribute to a worthy cause.

Jimin’s unwavering gaze continues to linger on you, an irritation bubbling within. You question why he can’t redirect his attention to his girlfriend or, at the very least, the ongoing auction.

The auction unfolds in the background, but your focus remains unyielding to the bidding, stolen by the persistent gaze of the blonde man. His intense gaze feels like he’s stripping you down with his eyes. Yet you remain nonchalant, indifferent to his silent advances.

During a brief respite, as delectable appetizers circulate the room, you discreetly savor the miniature delights, determinedly diverting your attention from Jimin as per your original strategy.

Abruptly, you interject into the group’s conversation, “Is there something on my face?” Their perplexed gazes pivot towards you, uncertain of the sudden inquiry.

As you munch on a bite of food, you nonchalantly toss in, “Jimin keeps giving me these intense stares, and I just don’t get it.”

Yoongi and Hoseok share a knowing chuckle, their eyes reflecting a camaraderie that Soo-ah and Ara immediately catch onto, shooting you looks of playful understanding.

“No, there’s nothing on your face,” Soo-ah says with a teasing smile, her words dripping with a playful undertone.

“Maybe you should talk to him?” Ara suggests, her voice carrying a gentle note of encouragement, like a flicker of a candle in the dim room of uncertainty.

“He doesn’t want to talk, and I hardly think this is the place for it…” you say, the words hanging in the air like a fleeting sigh, drowned out by the buzz of conversations around you as you take a thoughtful sip of your champagne.

You redirect your attention to the auctioneer, a black vase taking center stage this time. As the bidding unfolds, you indulge in another sip of champagne, feeling the effervescent bubbles dance teasingly across your tongue, a subtle distraction from the tension in the room.

As the final gavel falls, signaling the end of the auction, a wave of relief washes over you. The speakers come alive with soulful melodies, casting a warm ambiance over the room. To your surprise, the atmosphere becomes infectious, and you observe couples from other tables swaying to the rhythmic tunes. A chuckle escapes you, realizing you’ve never been one to dance at such formal events. Nevertheless, the music’s allure beckons, and you find yourself succumbing to the rhythm, ready to embrace the unexpected joy of the night.

Yoongi seizes your hands, whisking you onto the dance floor in a whirl of laughter and joy. The dance is a delightful blend of fun and friendship, his every move resonating with an infectious rhythm. As you twirl under the dazzling lights, you catch Hoseok’s gaze fixed on Yoongi. Leaning in, you share a whispered observation, “Hoseok’s eyes are practically glued to you, you know?”

His laughter reverberates through the air, a melody that resonates with a warmth you find comforting. “I know,” he chuckles, the sound a harmonious note in the symphony of the evening.

As he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes, you can’t help but reciprocate with a grateful smile. He twirls you around, a dance of understanding, letting you sway out of his embrace only to draw you back in. Oh, the dance you share with him is a temporary refuge, a wishful escape from the reality you yearn to change. However, your joy falters as you catch Jimin’s gaze; his eyes, far from angelic, hold a mysterious intensity that pierces through the rhythm of the music.

With a chuckle, Yoongi leans in, “Jimin’s got his eyes on you too.”

“I’ve felt his eyes on me since we walked through that door,” you admit with a sigh, your gaze wandering over the dance floor where your sister twirls with Jungkook, and Ha-rin gracefully dances with Seokjin.

“You should consider talking to him,” he suggests again, but you dismiss the idea with a subtle shake of your head.

“I doubt it would make any difference, honestly,” you laugh, pressing your body into Yoongi’s. His warmth envelops you, and for a brief moment, in his embrace, everything feels like it might just be okay.

Taking a step back from Yoongi, you express the need for a break. As you make your way back to the table to sip on more champagne, you observe Yoongi inviting Hoseok to dance, a proposal met with a willing agreement. Soo-ah joins you at the table, casting a gentle gaze in your direction.

“You danced with Hoseok?” You inquire, your gaze softened with curiosity.

“I did,” she admits with a smile. “He’s a really nice guy.” You nod, acknowledging her words. However, you can’t shake the understanding that someone in your circle might end up with a bruised heart, considering both Yoongi and Soo-ah have affections for Hoseok.

As you watch Hoseok and Yoongi gracefully moving on the dance floor, impressed by Hoseok’s skilled control over his body, a genuine smile plays on your lips. However, that fleeting moment of joy is interrupted as you sense the weight of brown eyes piercing into your back. Turning around, you find Jimin dancing intimately with Deiji, the intensity of his gaze making your smile fade.

You observe Jimin and Deiji dancing cheek to cheek, their bodies pressed tightly together, making you scoff and redirect your attention to Soo-ah. Just as you try to shake off the unsettling sight, a tap on your shoulder interrupts your thoughts. You turn around to find Hoseok, his bright smile inviting, “Do you want to dance?”

You seize his hand, allowing him to whisk you onto the dance floor, reminiscent of how Yoongi did earlier. Hoseok effortlessly twirls you around, evoking laughter that bubbles up from deep within. Knowing you’re not the most adept dancer, you surrender to his guidance, and he proves to be exceptionally skilled at leading you through the dance.

Amid the enjoyment, a surge of audacity overcomes you, prompting an uncharacteristic move. “What do you think about Yoongi?” The words spill out unexpectedly, catching Hoseok off guard, a reaction vividly displayed on his face. A chuckle escapes you as you revel in the spontaneity of the moment.

“What do you mean?” he asks, catching off guard. 

Unable to contain your mischievous grin, you lean in and tease, “You know he likes you, right?” As the words escape your lips, you’re conscious of the trust you might be breaking but convinced that mingling is the key to any potential connection. Hoseok, though initially shocked, isn’t repulsed as you feared. Instead, his eyes widen, and a subtle pink tint adorns his cheeks, leaving you wondering how he’ll respond.

“He does?” Hoseok stammers, caught off guard and missing a beat. Your chuckle only intensifies as you nod in confirmation. The revelation lingers in the air, and you sense that you might not have to do much more to set things in motion.

As you continue to dance, a comfortable silence envelops you both before Hoseok breaks it, his words hanging in the air, “You know Jimin likes you too.”

You roll your eyes, well aware of the situation. “Yeah, not much to do about it when he has a girlfriend,” you admit with a wry smile. Despite Hoseok’s good intentions, you’ve firmly decided not to act on your feelings while Jimin is still in a relationship. It’s a line you won’t cross.

You dance a little longer until Yoongi is at your side again, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his embrace. He wears a curious smile as he asks, “What were you talking about with Hoseok?”

You chuckle softly, “I told him.”

He glances at you, a puzzled expression on his face, “Told him what?”

“That you’ve got a crush on him,” you declare, matter-of-factly, in a hushed tone meant just for the two of you. However, with the rain tapping on the roof and the music playing, it’s a challenge to catch every word.

Yoongi’s expression doesn’t exactly radiate joy, but there’s a subtle softness to his features, an almost-relaxed demeanor. He releases a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through his hair in apparent exasperation.

“I’m sorry. I know it isn’t my place to say anything. But he actually seemed intrigued!” You share, your words riding the rhythm of the music as you sway with Yoongi. His tension eases, and he responds with a soft expression, a subtle acknowledgment of the revelation.

“It’s okay,” he breathes out, “it wasn’t your place, but it’s fine.” 

You lean into him, embracing him gently and offering a reassuring pat on the back. In that moment, you catch Jimin’s gaze fixed on you once again. The repetitive stares leave you puzzled. Why is he focused on you instead of his girlfriend?

You feel your heart quicken, your nostrils flare, and your hands clench around Yoongi’s back. He pulls you away, confusion etched on his face, questioning what’s wrong. But you see red. It’s reached a boiling point. The anger simmers inside you, consuming every inch of your being, and with determination, you let go of Yoongi and stride purposefully over to Jimin and Deiji.

Standing before them, you take a deep inhale, a turbulent storm of emotions brewing beneath your skin. “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?” Your voice slices through the ambient sounds, a piercing question that fractures the comfortable cocoon around Jimin and Deiji. Jimin slowly turns to face you, his expression shifting from surprise to a somber acknowledgment, as if he’s been caught in the act of something he’d rather keep hidden.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” you hiss, your hands tightly clenched at your sides, radiating with anger.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” you raise your voice, the anger boiling so fiercely within you that you feel breathless as you unleash your words.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab your finger accusingly at her, and she flinches, uncertain about how to react. Jimin simply gazes at you, as though you’ve lost your marbles—and maybe you have, because the words keep pouring out.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You huff, the waves of anger radiating from your body. The sudden realization hits you that the entire room is now fixated on the spectacle, and an eerie silence envelops the space, punctuated only by the intensity of your heated words.

Yoongi steps up beside you, a silent force attempting to ground you, but you refuse to yield. The torrent of anger surges within you, and with an accusatory finger, you unleash your fury on Jimin.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” Your words, laden with venom, spill from your lips in a torrent of conflicting emotions. You seethe, feeling strangely lighter, though the room spins around you. Yoongi releases your arm, his face a mix of shock, and confusion mirrors the peculiar glances from those around you, leaving you wondering why everyone is now looking at you even more strangely than before.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you hiss at Jimin, catching him off guard. Deiji wears a displeased expression, and Jimin’s features soften in a way that leaves you utterly bewildered. 

Deiji appears visibly irritated, and you’re left wondering if her frustration is directed at you or if she shares your exasperation for Jimin. As the tension simmers, Jimin unexpectedly breaks into laughter, his audacity fueling the fire of your anger. The laughter grates on your nerves, aggravating you further. Why on earth is he finding amusement in this situation? There’s nothing remotely funny about it, intensifying the blaze of your already fiery emotions.

You jab your accusatory finger at him once more, your voice cutting through the tension, “Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!”

Your voice may carry the tone of an angered child denied its desires, but you couldn’t care less. In this moment, you’re finally confronting Jimin, even if the conversation seems to be one-sided.

You observe as he parts his lips, ready to utter words that you don’t wish to hear.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” You hiss in frustration, ready to pivot away from the awkward situation, aware of the collective gaze of all the guests upon you. As you start to turn, Jimin’s firm grip on your wrist stops you, compelling you to face him again.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” You shriek, wrenching your arm free, and storming out of the building. The erratic thumping of your heart resonates like a dissonant ringing in your ears, mirroring the chaos within.

Gasping frantically for air, your breath catching in turbulent spasms, you step outside, feeling as if your body is unraveling at the seams. Collapsing on the stairs, you surrender to the tremors of anger pulsating through you. Attempting to regain composure, you strive to slow your breath, but the task proves as challenging as holding back a tempest.

Regret floods your senses, a torrent of remorse for every word unleashed in the heat of anger, half of them lost to the haze of fury. The weight of all eyes fixed upon you, their gaze searing into your soul, amplifies the desire for the ground to open up and engulf you whole. 

What transpired in that room, and how did it all spiral into such chaos?

A symphony of hooves shatters the tranquility of your peaceful slumber, jerking you awake. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you hurry to the window to witness the commotion outside. In the distance, a captivating spectacle unfolds — a wild herd of horses, led by the majestic brown stallion, thundering across the landscape. These creatures have become frequent visitors, drawing nearer to the ranch with each passing day. Curiosity grips you; what secrets do these untamed spirits carry, and why do they venture closer to your haven?

With a contented sigh, you wearily make your way back to your bed, sinking into its welcoming embrace. A spontaneous yawn escapes, accompanied by a luxurious stretch that sends waves of relaxation through your well-rested body. The simple joy of a peaceful night’s sleep settles over you, like a comforting blanket enveloping your weary soul.

Entering the bathroom, you brace yourself for the day ahead. Under the rejuvenating spray of a quick shower, you allow the cascading water to serve as a cleansing force, washing away not only yesterday’s mistakes but also the lingering regret that clings to your every thought. The steam clouds your reflection, a metaphorical veil between the past and the potential for a better today.

The bracing cold water jolts you into wakefulness, a refreshing prelude to the day ahead. As rivulets of water cascade down, you ensure every trace of sleep is banished, emerging invigorated and ready for the rigors of another day on the ranch. Donning a weathered shirt, worn-in pants, and your trusty boots, you complete the ensemble with the signature hat that shields your face from the sun’s relentless gaze. Descending the stairs, you find Ara in the kitchen, skillfully crafting a sandwich for her morning appetite.

“Hey there!” you chirp, a grin lighting up your face, buoyed by the rare joy of a restful night’s sleep. A subtle acknowledgment forms in your mind—thankful for your sister and Jungkook opting for a night at his place, granting you the serenity that fueled the upbeat mood.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Ara inquires, her attention focused on putting away the butter, as if carefully choosing the moment to meet your eyes.

“Actually, leave it out. I could use one too,” you interject, and Ara obligingly retrieves the butter, finally meeting your gaze. “As for how I’m doing—just fine.”

She hands you the butter and a knife, a wry smile playing on her lips, “Some party, huh?”

She chuckles, and you roll your eyes. The weight of her laughter only intensifies your embarrassment, a vivid reminder of the scene you created at the gala. You find yourself wishing for the ground to open up and spare you from the aftermath of your emotional outburst. Why did you have to make such a spectacle?

Damn you and your relentless emotions. Now the whole world, or at least everyone at the gala, knows the depth of your disdain for Jimin, you assume. You bury your face in your hands, releasing a frustrated grunt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to create such a spectacle.”

Ara’s laughter rings out, much to your dismay, intensifying the furrow in your brow. You don’t see the humor; you’ve practically made a fool of yourself in front of everyone.

“Well, we all had a blast,” she laughs, a beautiful smile playing on her lips, “I’m sure Jimin is having a good laugh about it too.”

You roll your eyes once more, highly skeptical. After all, you called him so many terrible names, didn’t allow him a word in, and basically told him to stick it in his ass.

Wonderful. Great. Peachy. Words that utterly fail to capture the chaotic storm of emotions swirling within you at this very moment. The vivid memories of your passionate outburst yesterday haunt you, casting a shadow over any semblance of composure. There’s a lingering wish to escape the possibility of encountering Jimin and his girlfriend again, but deep down, you acknowledge that luck doesn’t favor you so generously.

You hastily slather butter onto your bread, devouring it in its pure simplicity. The imminent need to depart gnaws at you; the day awaits, beckoning you to gallop over to the Bell ranch, where the untamed spirits of the wild horses entwine with the shared endeavors of you and Yoongi.

“I have to go,” you declare, snatching the bread in your mouth, and dash outdoors toward the barn. The sun, now radiantly shining, bestows a sense of hope upon your day, propelling you forward with anticipation.

As you saddle up Marshmallow and guide him outdoors, a faint sound begins to patter on the roof—a soft, rhythmic reminder of the rain.

Out in the open, the rain embraces you in seconds, a relentless downpour that draws a scoff. Undeterred, you plant your foot in the stirrup and swing the other leg over, urging Marshmallow into a full gallop. The rain pelts your face, but you ride on, indifferent to the weather’s challenge.

As you ride, thoughts of Jimin’s expression at the gala linger in your mind. Despite his initial composure, his face betrayed offense and anger, as if restraining the urge to shout back. He stood there, his girlfriend by his side, absorbing every word you hurled at him. Regret tugs at you, but the words are irreversible, a turbulent exchange you can’t undo, even if you wished otherwise.

A yearning lingers within you, hoping that Jimin would have retorted, engaged in a verbal sparring, or at least defended himself. However, his silence echoes louder than any words, leaving you to ponder the significance of his unspoken response.

You sense that words were poised on the tip of Jimin’s tongue, ready to spill out, but a conscious decision to shield yourself from his potential revelations compelled you to shut down any communication before it began.

The peculiar weather paints a contradictory scene: raindrops cascade, yet the sun defiantly radiates its warmth, creating a surreal ambiance. In the midst of this meteorological paradox, a double rainbow graces the distant horizon. The sight, both enchanting and whimsical, elicits a genuine smile, urging you to spur Marshmallow into an even faster gallop. Each rhythmic beat of his hooves seems to synchronize with the cadence of your heart, a determined attempt to outride the persistent thoughts of Jimin that linger in your mind.

As the ranch emerges on the horizon, a welcoming sight after the turbulent events, you guide Marshmallow down to the pen where Yoongi and Hoseok eagerly await your arrival. Skillfully securing Marshmallow to the fence, you exchange greetings with the two men, the atmosphere pregnant with anticipation for the day’s tasks on the ranch.

Hoseok’s laughter greets you even before you utter a single word, prompting an eye roll from you in response.

As Yoongi dedicates himself to the fiery-red mare once more, you find your way to the fence, settling in next to Hoseok with a sense of camaraderie.

“Nice gala, huh?” Hoseok teases, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggests he’s well aware of the evening’s drama. You respond with a loud groan, wondering why people find the need to rub your failures in your face.

“Shit. I regret how I behaved. It’s so embarrassing,” you confess, closing your eyes as if wishing to erase yesterday from existence.

“I understand. But it was fun to watch,” he laughs heartily, his entire being pulsating with mirth.

You shift your gaze downward to Yoongi in the pen, “Have you noticed the herd of wild horses getting closer?”

Yoongi nods knowingly, “Yeah.”

You observe the mare’s lively movements before turning your attention back to Yoongi, “What do you think it means?”

Yoongi looks up from the mare, his expression serious, “Nothing good.”

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

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

[kingofbodyrolls]

This is a beast. A brilliant beast! And an emotional roller-coaster of a read 🥹 loved it though! I'm still rather speechless 🥹💜

a thousand reasons why | jjk (m)

Summary: “And if all of this experience was indeed a dream, you chose to stay just a little longer.”

After leaving to work towards his dream rather than the bonds that shackle him to home, you didn’t expect to see Jungkook again years later at your best friend’s wedding. And even less, for love to rekindle at second glance.

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: f2l; fluff, angst, smut, crack

warnings: a whole laundry list tf: (past) minor character death, somewhat toxic parents, (mentions of) gambling, blond & then 5th muster pied piper (fuckboy) jk lol, this jimin, jealousy, alcohol consumption, unrequited love (not between jk & oc), friends fighting; explicit multiple (2) sex scenes that include: dom & big dick!jk, light hair pulling, marking, tiddie sucking/breast play, clit pinching, pussy slapping, soft & rough sex, praising, biting, some spit ig, oral (f. & m.), fingering, handjob, consent <3, cockwarming, squirting, oversensitivity, multiple orgasms, mouth fucking,… uhh, consensual drunk sex, protected & unprotected sex…. yeah

word count: 43.1k (i sincerely apologise <3)

credits: such a beautiful banner by my lovely @taemaknae​​ <3 !! beta’d by @bangtanhome​​​ @hobiandsprite​​ & @missgeniality​​ - your brains are exquisite and this fic would be NOTHING without you !! & parts read by @hantaev​​ ILY ALL <3

a/n: i’m honestly SORRY for the wc lol pls still read tho, i worked so so hard on it :’) based on the 2013 movie YJHD! and a belated love letter to one of my favourite people in this world - happy birthday, jeon jungkook. i’ll always be inspired by your words and admire you forever <3

uploaded to AO3, too (for those who prefer pdfs or mobile readings!) + the fic is split in ‘Before’ & ‘Now’ - that way, you can read it in 2 sittings if you’d like <3

➳ listen to the (collaborative!) ATRW playlist for the full experience!

MASTERLIST | WIPs

The slowly vanishing light of the sun bathes the room in a golden glow when you close the door to your apartment behind you.

Coming home feels different today. With the boxes under your arms, you feel the weight of the postcards and invitations heavier than usual. After letting Dia ramble about the plans for the next few days, dreamy eyes drifting off now and then, you’ve grown increasingly tired this evening. And yet, you can’t wait to send off the cards that remain before the big day breaks in.

You lift the sunglasses from your eyes and place them on your head, not bothering to change your clothes before you sit down at your desk and start putting the invitations into envelopes. You wait and read with a thumping heart, fingers working through the pile quickly until you finally see it.

Keep reading

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

🐴Chapter summary: When Mikrokosmos goes missing, you don’t know what to do and when Jimin suddenly starts talking to you, wanting to help find your horse, you’re not sure if you should accept or not. When you can’t find Mikrokosmos and have to spend a night with Jimin in the wide open land, will old feelings bloom? 🐴Chapter title: The First Touch 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: explicit smut in the form of unprotected sex; sex in public (they are outside in nature by themselves), oral (both male and female receiving), very very brief anal play (female receiving), nipple play, hair pulling, sweet/dirty talk, pet name (babe), cock warming, multiple orgasms, a loooooooot of kissing (so much that it should be illegal), just very slow and tender love making. Jimin is very gentle, but he is also a devil 👿 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 16.4k (whoopps, but it’s smut!)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For some inexplicable reason, a blush graces your cheeks, a subtle yet undeniable testament to the torrent of emotions swirling within you. It’s a curious juxtaposition, considering the uninhibited pleasures you’ve shared thus far. Yet, amidst the intoxicating haze of desire, there’s a deeper sensation stirring within you—a profound sense of being utterly and unequivocally full, not just of passion, but of an overwhelming and boundless love.

“Can I make love to you?” he asks, his voice a tender whisper that reverberates through the charged air between you. As his eyes search yours, a silent plea etched into their depths, his breath washes over your face, carrying with it the intoxicating scent of him—sweet and musky, a heady blend that envelops you in a cocoon of desire and longing.

“God, yes!” you moan fervently, your voice a breathless plea that echoes in the heated space between you. With an instinctual urgency, you open your legs wider, a silent invitation that beckons him closer, drawing him into the intimate embrace of your pussy with an irresistible pull.

He lays you down gently on a fragrant bed of bluebonnets, their sweet, flowery scent wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, infusing the night air with a delicate fragrance that speaks of love and serenity. As you pant softly, your eyes drink in the sight of Jimin poised above you, a vision of strength and vulnerability intertwined. His scars, a testament to his journey, only add to his allure, while his tender gaze holds you in a spellbinding trance. With deliberate movements, he hovers closer, his hand stroking his dick.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He asks, a note of realization creeping into his voice as he acknowledges the crucial detail he nearly overlooked. 

You shake your head, a sense of disappointment washing over you like a wave crashing against the shore. Despite the nagging concern for safety, your desire burns fiercely, eclipsing rational thought with an unyielding craving for closeness. 

“No, I don’t. I’m on the pill and I’m clean, are you?” You inquire, your voice laced with a mixture of longing and urgency, a silent plea for reassurance amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

He chuckles softly, the sound a mixture of amusement and apprehension. “Yeah, I usually always wear protection too, but I really didn’t plan on this happening tonight,” he admits, his words tinged with a hint of uncertainty. “You’re okay without it?” He asks, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt, his concern for your well-being evident in the furrow of his brow.

“I’m good, just fuck me, Jimin,” you pant, your voice trembling with a raw mixture of desire and urgency. With a fervent desperation, you spread your legs even wider, your glistening pussy shimmering in the moonlight, a beacon of temptation that beckons him closer. The sight leaves him licking his lips in unadulterated lust, his gaze fixated on you with a hunger that mirrors your own.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he strokes his dick once more, a silent promise of the pleasure to come. Aligning himself with your eager entrance, he begins to push his cock into your welcoming embrace, each inch a tantalizing reminder of the intimacy you’re about to share.

As he enters you, a surge of sensation washes over you, and you’re struck by the realization that he’s thicker than you anticipated. A fleeting moment of panic flits through your mind as you remember that he didn’t stretch you beforehand, but to your surprise, the slickness of your arousal makes the slide effortless. There’s no discomfort, only a delicious feeling of fullness that leaves you breathless with pleasure.

He reaches the deepest recesses of your being, his balls grazing your folds, and a primal moan escapes your lips as he ignites a firestorm of sensation within you. 

Every inch of him stretches you to your limits, leaving you feeling gloriously full and alive with desire. With each withdrawal, a shiver races down your spine, only to be replaced by an electrifying jolt of pleasure as he thrusts back in. 

The intensity of it all is overwhelming, sending you spiraling into a frenzy of ecstasy that surpasses even your most vivid fantasies. It’s everything you’ve ever imagined, and yet, so much more—so much better than your wildest wettest dreams.

You revel in the sensation of his dick twitching inside your pussy, a primal confirmation of his arousal that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. With each powerful thrust, the simplicity of the missionary position becomes a conduit for profound intimacy, every movement drawing you closer together in a passionate dance of desire. You’re soaking wet, to be honest, you’re dripping. His cock feels like a revelation, igniting flames of ecstasy that consume you wholly, leaving you utterly lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your passion.

His hands, initially anchored on either side of your hips, move across your trembling form. Each caress leaves a trail of tingling sensations in its wake, electrifying your senses with a fervent urgency. As his fingers glide over your curves, they pause upon the soft swell of your breasts, lingering there with an almost reverent touch. With a gentle tug on your nipple, he elicits a fervent moan of pure pleasure from your lips, each sensation unraveling you further in the throes of unabashed ecstasy.

As he continues to thrust deeply into you, his fingers teasing your sensitive nipple, you find yourself drawn to the raw intensity etched across his features. His expression, a captivating blend of desire and longing, captivates your gaze, his furrowed brow a testament to the depth of his passion. His eyes, wide and dilated with arousal, hold you in their hypnotic gaze, each glance igniting flames of longing within your core. His plush, red lips beckon to you with an irresistible allure, stirring an overwhelming urge to taste him once more, to lose yourself in him.

“Kiss,” you pant, your voice a desperate plea that hangs heavy in the air, and he chuckles softly at your fervent request. Without hesitation, he leans down to meet your lips, his kiss a fiery collision of passion and need, even as he continues to drive his dick into your heated depths with unwavering intensity. 

Each brush of his lips against yours sends shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body.

“Fuck, you’re amazing babe,” he groans, his voice laced with a mixture of awe and desire, as he drives himself into you with a fervent urgency tempered by tender affection. Each powerful thrust is a testament to his adoration, his movements a symphony of passion and intimacy that leave you breathless with longing.

“Jimin, I—” you gasp, the words caught in your throat as he delves deeper into your depths, a surge of pleasure coursing through you as he gathers your legs and presses them against his shoulders, driving himself even further into your pussy.

Your gasping, overwhelmed by the depth of sensation as he plunges into you, exploring places you never knew existed, igniting sparks of pleasure that ripple through every fiber of your being. It’s as if he’s reaching parts of you that have long remained dormant, his every movement sending shockwaves of ecstasy cascading through your body, leaving you teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion.

When he delivers a particularly powerful thrust, you surrender to the overwhelming wave of emotions coursing through you, your heart soaring as you release the words that have been simmering within, “I love you.”

With a husky grunt, he responds, his voice a low rumble filled with an undeniable tenderness, “I know, babe.”

Gazing at him through a veil of desire, your breath ragged with anticipation, you press him for clarity, your voice trembling with curiosity, “What do you mean, you know?”

A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he withdraws completely, leaving you with a sense of emptiness that mirrors the sudden absence of his presence within you. “You told me at the gala,” he explains, his voice carrying a hint of amusement and fond remembrance, casting a glow of warmth over the memory.

Your expression morphs into a puzzled question mark once more, prompting another bout of laughter from him as he teasingly teases at your entrance once more.

“When you told me you hated me, you also said you love me,” he reveals, his voice laced with a mixture of humor and desire, before driving his dick back into you with an intensity that leaves you gasping, your cries of pleasure echoing in the night, mingling with the sounds of nature around you. You’re almost afraid you might startle the horses with all your noises.

“Fuck, I did?” you gasp incredulously, your voice tinged with disbelief and arousal, feeling the powerful grip of your pussy tightening around his cock, as if it’s instinctively pulling him deeper, craving the connection with an intensity that matches your own desire.

“Yeah. It was actually really hot. Do you know how sexy you are when you’re mad?” He leans down, gently pressing your thighs against your stomach, drawing you into an intimate embrace as he lowers his lips to your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, “I love you too.”

You’re consumed by a surge of sensation, questioning whether he’s grown larger or you’ve become tighter, the intense throbbing and twitching of his dick inside you driving you to the brink of madness. Every nerve in your body is alight, ablaze with desire, leaving you gasping for breath as if on the verge of spontaneous combustion.

As he ascends, his hand resumes its gentle ministrations on your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. The intensity is overwhelming, pushing you to the brink of release once more. Every fiber of your being is electrified, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. You feel like you could come at any moment now.

Despite the exhaustion that blankets your body with the way that he fucks you, you’re enveloped in a whirlwind of love and desire that leaves you feeling utterly spent yet infinitely fulfilled.

“Ahhh, fuck!” You cry out, the sensation of him delving so deep sends shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through every nerve ending, igniting a kaleidoscope of sensations that leave you seeing stars and unraveling at the seams.

“That’s it, babe. You’re taking me so well,” he pants, his voice thick with desire and need, echoing the frantic rhythm of your own breathless gasps. “I’m almost there. Are you close?”

“Yes,” you moan, elongating the word as if savoring its taste, your voice a symphony of pleasure and desire. Every nerve in your body ignites with a fiery intensity, fueled by the intoxicating sensations Jimin evokes. His touch, his presence, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, a blissful surge that consumes your very being.

As Jimin’s pace intensifies on your clit, perfectly synchronized with the depth of his thrusts, you surrender to the torrent of sensations cascading through your body. 

Every touch, every movement, sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, a culmination of the emotions that have been simmering beneath the surface for months. With each exquisite moment, you release the pent-up tension, allowing yourself to be consumed by the raw, unbridled passion between you and Jimin— you simply let go.

“Jimin!” The cry tears from your lips like a primal invocation as you spiral into your third orgasm, a deluge of ecstasy flooding around his throbbing cock. 

You’re left panting, a disheveled portrait of desire, as your core tightens around him, pulsing with each wave of release, coating his dick in a glistening sheen of your arousal.

“Fuck!” His voice is a raw mix of frustration and longing, his body trembling as your insatiable pussy seems to draw him deeper into your depths, culminating in a primal moan of your name as he spills his essence inside you.

You’re both left breathless, your bodies suffused with a warmth that courses through every inch of your skin, igniting a tingling sensation that dances along your nerves. It’s not just the aftermath of passion; it’s a shared ecstasy that leaves you both on the brink of shivering, though not from the chill of the night air.

As you ride out the waves of your climax, he continues to thrust inside you, his warmth flooding your depths, and you revel in the raw intimacy of it all. Even as his dick gradually softens, he remains nestled within you, both of you panting for air.

Droplets of sweat trickle down from his forehead, teasing your breasts with their warm caress. Despite the exhaustion etched on his face, he still radiates a captivating allure that leaves you breathless.

You feel the warmth of his semen trickling out of your pussy, tracing a tantalizing path down to your ass, leaving you feeling both sticky and sweaty.

You gently lower your legs from his shoulders, allowing them to find solid ground beside him. Gasping for air, a wide grin spreads across your face, punctuated by playful giggles. Jimin leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss that elicits a soft moan from you. Breaking away, he grins, revealing his endearingly crooked teeth—a sight that never fails to warm your heart. Damn, you love this man.

You lose track of time with him nestled on top of you, his warmth enveloping you as he remains inside your pussy. The gentle thud of his beating heart against your chest creates a soothing rhythm, one that seems to sync perfectly with your own. 

In that moment, entwined together, it feels like your souls are dancing to the same beautiful melody.

As he withdraws from you, he gracefully shifts onto his side, beckoning you to join him on his sleeping mat. You comply eagerly, settling yourself beside him, relishing the warmth of his body against yours. With a tender gesture, he draws both blankets over your entwined forms, cocooning you both in a comforting embrace against the night’s chill.

Entwined in each other’s arms, you drift into slumber, lulled by the rhythmic cadence of his heartbeat, a comforting lullaby in the stillness of the night. With your head nestled against his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing beneath you, you find solace in the intimacy of the moment. Your fingertips trace delicate patterns on his pectorals. As you lie there, embraced by the tender embrace of nature, the symphony of the wilderness envelops you, a melodic harmony of chirping crickets and dancing fireflies. Above, the celestial canopy twinkles with a myriad of stars, casting a celestial glow upon your sanctuary, a sanctuary where time stands still and love knows no bounds.

As the first light of dawn paints patterns of gold through the foliage, coaxing you from slumber, you awaken beside Jimin, cocooned in the warmth of his presence. Stretching languidly, you feel the gentle weight of his body beside you, a comforting anchor in the hazy morning. Nestling closer to him, you bury your face into the curve of his chest, savoring the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. With a contented sigh, you greet the new day softly, your voice a whispered melody against the tranquil stillness, “Morning.”

He stirs beneath you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, a sound that resonates deep within your core. His gentle touch traces the curve of your spine, sending shivers cascading down your skin, igniting a familiar heat within you. The memory of last night dances at the edges of your consciousness, teasing and tantalizing, as his fingers linger on the curve of your ass, coaxing your body to life with every caress.

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” His voice, warm and inviting, rouses you from the haze of sleep, like the first light of dawn piercing through the darkness. You blink away the remnants of dreams, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. His laughter, a melody of morning, dances in the air, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. As he opens his eyes, you find yourself captured by the depth of his gaze, a silent exchange of morning greetings between two souls entwined in the quiet serenity of dawn.

“Amazing,” you exhale the word against his chest, the warmth of your breath mingling with the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Soft kisses pepper his skin, each one a testament to the tenderness between you, yet there’s a playful edge as your teeth graze his flesh, drawing forth a soft chuckle from him, like music to your ears, a sweet symphony of affection.

He moves with a fluid grace, rolling you over and settling above you as the weight of his presence envelops you once more. His lips meet yours in a gentle caress, carrying the essence of dawn itself, a blend of morning flowers and the earthy musk of the forest. You inhale deeply, savoring his scent as it ignites a primal longing within you, tightening your core with desire. With a soft moan, you surrender to his kiss, your hands pulling him closer, as if trying to meld your beings together in a timeless embrace, unable to quench the thirst for his lips.

You sense the subtle twitch of his cock against your crotch. The warmth of his skin against yours reignites the embers of desire, and you become acutely aware of your nakedness, a lingering sensation from your passionate sex last night, that you still feel wet from. The memory of his touch lingers, and your body responds instinctively, still tingling with the echoes of pleasure. As your mind drifts, envisioning how easy it would be for him to slip right into your walls again, a shiver courses through you, your breath catching at the mere thought, while your core instinctively clenches, yearning for his familiar touch.

“Are you okay, babe?” Concern colors Jimin’s voice as he notices the faint furrow of frustration on your brow. 

You offer him a soft smile, your fingertips tracing the contours of his cheeks with affectionate tenderness. “I’m absolutely wonderful, Jimin,” you confess, your voice laced with longing and a hint of playful desire. “I just miss you and I want you inside of me again already.”

“Oh, yeah?” His teasing tone sends a shiver down your spine as he playfully grinds his cock against your drenched pussy. You gasp at the sensation, overwhelmed by the flood of arousal coursing through your veins. How could you still be so wet, so ready for him, even after everything? 

It’s like your body has a mind of its own, craving his touch with an insatiable hunger.

His dick presses against you, throbbing with anticipation, and as he eases his fully erect cock between your slick folds, a rush of pleasure surges through you, igniting every nerve ending. Your moans escape in soft gasps, lost in the bliss of his touch, as you feel the heat of his dick melding perfectly with your own.

Each movement of his cock inside you feels like a divine symphony, a perfect rhythm that resonates through your entire being. With each deep thrust, he fills you so completely, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. Your breasts sway in tandem with his movements, a visual testament to the intense pleasure he’s giving you, each pull and thrust sending you spiraling into euphoria.

As your hands find their way to his back, you grip onto him with a fervor you didn’t know you possessed, the intensity of pleasure coursing through you like electricity. Then, as you tilt your head to the side, your eyes catch a glimpse of it— Mikrokosmos.

“Jimin-ah!” You pant urgently, your voice breaking the rhythm of your thrusts. When he catches sight of your startled expression, he halts his movements, his gaze instantly flooded with concern.

“What’s wrong, babe?” His voice carries genuine concern, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

“It’s Mikrokosmos!” You exclaim, a mixture of awe and urgency in your voice as you tear your gaze away from Jimin to focus on the majestic sight. Sensing the shift in your demeanor, Jimin withdraws from your folds and joins you, his eyes following your gaze to where your black horse grazes lazily nearby.

You rise to your feet, embarking on a quest for your scattered garments, your fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties, eliciting a frustrated groan. Resolving to not put them on, you swiftly opt for your pants, slipping into them with haste. With determination, you locate your bra and shirt, swiftly adorning yourself in a flurry of movements. Meanwhile, Jimin is engaged in a similar pursuit, his efforts mirroring yours as he hastily dons his own attire. 

Amidst the shared chaos of dressing, your laughter fills the air, a delightful symphony blending with the rustle of fabric and the gentle morning breeze.

As you don your attire with practiced efficiency, you slide your boots on, the leather molding comfortably around your feet. With deliberate steps, you approach Mikrokosmos, the ground yielding softly beneath your weight. Jimin shadows your movements, his presence a reassuring anchor amidst the morning serenity. Each stride brings you closer to the majestic creature, your heart echoing the rhythm of hoofbeats as you draw near.

“Come here, girl,” you murmur, your hand extended like an open invitation. Mikrokosmos raises her head, her gaze fixated on you, a mysterious glint dancing in her eyes, elusive yet captivating. 

With measured steps, she saunters toward you, a graceful dance of trust unfolding with each stride. As her velvety muzzle meets your outstretched hand, a surge of warmth envelops you, a sense of belonging washing over your soul. With a gentle whinny, she nuzzles against your palm, a silent affirmation of the bond between kindred spirits. “Good girl,” you whisper, your voice a tender melody amidst the tranquil embrace of nature.

You pivot slowly, no halter, no rope, no nothing, your gaze fixed ahead with quiet determination, “Let’s go home.”

Mikrokosmos follows your lead with unwavering trust, her hoofbeats falling into rhythm with your purposeful strides. Jimin’s eyes reflect admiration as he watches your natural affinity with the majestic creature. Returning to the other horses, you secure a rope around Mikrokosmos’s head, just in case she should get any ideas of leaving again, before tending to your belongings with practiced efficiency.

You saddle up Marshmallow, feeling the familiar comfort of the leather beneath your hands. Leading Mikrokosmos by the rope, you guide her onto the path, her presence beside you a reassuring anchor amidst the vast expanse of wilderness. 

The serendipitous encounter with Mikrokosmos fills you with an indescribable joy, as if destiny itself had intervened to bring you together. With each step, your heart swells with gratitude and happiness, a feeling that courses through your veins like a warm embrace.

As the trail meanders homeward, you turn to Jimin, a soft smile gracing your lips. “Thank you, Jimin,” you whisper, the words carried away on the gentle breeze, a heartfelt acknowledgment of his unwavering support. 

His warm smile washes over you, and you feel a rush of gratitude for his understanding. “No problem at all. I’m just glad to be here and help,” he murmurs, his eyes reflecting the same tenderness that fills your heart. Drawing closer, you intertwine your fingers with his, the simple act weaving a thread of intimacy between you. In that moment, riding side by side, the world fades away, leaving only the comforting embrace of each other’s presence.

His question catches you off guard, but the warmth in his voice draws you in. “Do you remember your fifth birthday?” he asks, a playful glint in his eyes, as if unraveling a cherished memory. His lips, so inviting and tender, curve into a smile, inviting you to journey back to that moment in time with him.

You chuckle softly, because you do remember, the memory flooding back like a cherished melody. You recall the innocence of that day, the laughter shared between you and Jimin as you played hide and seek, weaving tales of fantastical adventures. In that moment, surrounded by the whispers of childhood dreams, you realize the depth of your love with Jimin, sensing that perhaps there’s more to your bond than just friendship. It’s a realization that tugs at the strings of your heart, igniting a spark of hope for something more.

“Do you remember when you told me that guys couldn’t be friends with girls, that you’d get boy-lice or something?” he grins, his voice laced with nostalgia as he squeezes your hand gently. You roll your eyes playfully, the memory sparking a smile on your lips, because yes, you remember that too.

“I know I was insufferable back then,” you confess, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you wave off the memory.

“You weren’t. But you were oblivious to the fact that I had feelings for you back then, weren’t you?” He chuckles again, his laughter like a sweet melody that resonates deep within you, leaving you longing for more.

“I honestly didn’t. I just thought you were being a typical boy. But hey, I was five—how was I supposed to grasp the concept of love at that age?” You laugh lightly, a soft smile playing on your lips as you reminisce about the innocence of childhood.

He chuckles softly, his gaze holding a hint of curiosity, “It doesn’t matter now. But I was wondering…”

You find yourself lost in his hazel brown eyes, their warmth enveloping you, as you’re drawn to his captivating smile. With a soft breath, you respond, “Yes?”

With a tender gaze, he lays his heart bare before you, his words echoing with sincerity and vulnerability. “If you want to be my girlfriend. I don’t want to waste anymore time. I love you and I want us to be together,” he asks, his voice tapering off, a hint of uncertainty creeping in. Yet, you offer him solace, intertwining your fingers with his, leaning into his side, and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, affirming your affection without words.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Jimin.”

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

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

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

🐴Chapter summary: You’re back in the city, but it doesn’t really feel like home— nowhere has felt like home since you were a child. When Jimin suddenly shows up unexpectedly at your apartment, you’re left wondering the depth of his feelings. 🐴Chapter title: It Comes to This 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: mentions of not eating because of sadness, mention of past infidelity (parents), mention of past character death (parents). It’s fluff season y’all! 😍 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 7.5k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld,

*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 💿 “Locked Inside My Heart” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: okay so this is a short chapter, but it’s mainly oc and Jimin and it’s mainly talking, like backstory and feelings– it’s fluffy! But damn I loved writing this chapter. You’re in for a ride!!!

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

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

“I don't pretend the choice is easy I can't pretend I really know I don't believe that you can have it both ways Do you stay or do you go?” - ‘It comes to this’ by Rebecca Lavelle.

Several weeks have elapsed since your departure from the ranch, affording you the time and distance to gain some perspective. Though readjusting to city life is easy, a persistent ache in your heart testifies to the yearning for the open fields, the friendship of the girls, and even the complicated bond with your sister that you left behind.

However, you find solace in immersing yourself in your work, channeling your emotions onto the canvas with each stroke. As you complete yet another painting, a genuine smile graces your lips, proud of the creation that has sprung from the depths of your heart. 

Yet, when your gaze shifts to the collection of paintings surrounding it, each depicting the rustic charm of a ranch, horses, and idyllic countryside scenes, a chuckle escapes you. 

The truth is undeniable – the ranch is a constant muse, an ever-present thought that refuses to release its hold on your mind.

From the days of childhood at the ranch, where painting was a shared joy with your sister, to the present hustle of city life, your artistic passion has seamlessly evolved. Initially, it was a cherished hobby, but as the city years unfolded, it transformed into a profession. While you may not boast fame, your paintings enjoy a steady demand, affording you a comfortable life in the bustling heart of the city.

The soft vibration of your phone interrupts the creative dance of your brush against the canvas. Another painting takes shape – a girl riding her horse, an embodiment of carefree spirit with wind-kissed hair. 

A sigh escapes you; these motifs only deepen the yearning for the ranch. Retrieving your phone, a message from a friend awaits, a lifeline momentarily pulling you from the realm of memories and strokes.

Minji [13.34]: GIRL, get your ass down to the cafe I miss your ass 😏

A burst of laughter escapes you at Minji's characteristically whimsical message. Swiftly, you respond, your fingertips adorned with dried paint, dancing effortlessly across the screen, assuring her that you'll join her in a heartbeat.

After rinsing your pencils and setting them out to dry, you meticulously cleanse the remnants of paint from your hands. Swiftly grabbing your handbag, you step out of your apartment, ready to face the world beyond your creative sanctuary.

In just a few steps, you find yourself at the familiar cafe where you meet Minji. Her radiant face stands out, seated outside, waving at you with infectious enthusiasm. Her ever-changing fiery red hair, a testament to her vibrant personality, frames her face elegantly. Today, she opts for glasses – bold, cat-eyed frames that add a touch of sophistication to her usual look. A departure from her usual contacts, she's adorned in a striking green sundress, perfectly complementing the vivid hue of her hair.

As you reciprocate Minji's enthusiastic wave, settling into your seat, she promptly slides a refreshing glass of iced coffee across the table to you.

“Oh, thanks.”

“No problem. Is it good to be back in the city?” Minji inquires, her bright smile accentuated by the sun's playful dance on her face, a subtle gesture accompanying her sip of iced coffee.

You respond with a nonchalant shrug, “It's fine, I guess,” the uncertainty lingering in your voice, a subtle reflection of the mixed emotions swirling within you.

Her smile falters slightly, and she leans in, eyes searching yours, “You miss it, don't you?” 

The question hangs in the air, laden with understanding and curiosity.

You nod in acknowledgment, sinking into your seat as your fingers trace the rim of the glass. A frustrated sigh escapes your lips, “I do... more than I thought I would.”

Her chuckle fills the air, and she offers you a soft, reassuring smile. “Maybe it's time to go back?” she suggests, her eyes holding a glint of encouragement.

You ponder her question for a moment, though you've wrestled with this very dilemma countless times. “I don't think I can,” you admit, the words carrying the weight of your internal struggle.

Leaning in, she bridges the gap between you two, her eyes searching yours, “Why?”

You release another heavy sigh, frustration echoing in the air as you lift the glass of ice coffee to your lips. “First, my sister hates me; she made it clear she doesn't want to see me again,” you confess, the memory of your strained departure from Jessi lingering. “Second, I believe I royally messed up by sleeping with the wrong brother.”

Minji's eyes widened in shock, her curiosity instantly piqued. “You never mentioned this! Spill the details!”

You release another exasperated sigh. “Yeah, well, I met Jungkook at the party, and he's ridiculously good-looking, you know?” Minji nods knowingly, urging you to continue. “So, I ended up sleeping with him at the party, and later I discover that Jimin is his brother.”

Minji's eyes widen once more, and her mouth drops in shock at your revelation. “Jimin? The same Jimin you had a crush on when you were a kid?!”

“Yes, that Jimin,” you groan, taking a longer sip of your ice coffee. The cold liquid provides a welcome contrast against the warmth of the sun caressing your skin.

“Do you see my dilemma now?” you sigh dramatically, a huff punctuating your frustration.

“Not really,” she chuckles loudly, her laughter echoing with contagious joy. You gaze at her, curious about the cryptic message in her amusement.

“You fucked him once right? It's not like you were in a committed relationship or anything, and people make mistakes,” you look at her, waiting for her to finish her thought. “I don't see it as a problem. You didn't know they were brothers; it's not like you intentionally sought out his brother. I think you're overthinking it. Sometimes life just throws these curveballs at us.” She shrugs her shoulders with a reassuring smile, trying to convey that she doesn't see this situation as problematic, unlike how you perceive it.

“Do you have any idea if Jimin has a thing for you?” She inquires with a mischievous smirk, playfully emphasizing her question with a sly raise of her eyebrow.

“I'm not sure, but according to Jungkook, he does. Jimin's been giving me these intense stares, and it's starting to feel like he's been studying me,” you confide in her. It's a relief to finally share the thoughts that have been swirling in your head over the past few weeks.

“Girl, you should totally jump his dick!” Minji exclaims, her voice escalating in excitement, drawing glances from other tables. A blush creeps up on your cheeks as she practically shrieks the suggestion, and you quickly hush her, “Aish, keep it down.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, “You don't have to alert the whole neighborhood, you know.”

“Ah, sorry. I got overexcited. But it sounds like Jimin likes you,” she teases, giving you a smirk. “If he does, I don't think he sees it as a problem that you had sex with his brother once.”

“Half brother,” you add, and her eyes practically sparkle with intrigue at this new piece of information.

“I say go for it,” she leans back into her chair, sipping on her iced coffee proudly. “Also, I think you should go back and mend things with your sister.”

You groan at the thought, envisioning a scenario that seems destined for disaster. Shaking your head, you can't fathom how it would unfold positively.

“Bitch, take a good look at your paintings lately. Every piece you've shared in our chat revolves around ranches or horses. If that's not your heart screaming out what you truly desire, you must be blind.” She laughs as you furrow your brow, but in your heart, you acknowledge the undeniable truth in her words.

For weeks, your heart has been instinctively immortalizing the place you've desperately yearned for and at the same time desperately tried to erase from your thoughts. Each stroke of paint on canvas was a poignant reminder of the struggle to suppress those nostalgic pangs.

For the remainder of your coffee date with Minji, you delve into the intricacies of her life, relishing the distraction it provides. It's a welcome reprieve to immerse yourself in someone else's narrative, if only momentarily, allowing you to temporarily set aside the weight of your own troubles.

As the coffee date concludes, you bid Minji farewell with a heartfelt hug and a gentle kiss on the cheek. The warmth of her gesture lingers, accompanying you on the walk back to your apartment, a comforting echo in the quiet corridors of your thoughts.

Returning to your apartment, you scavenge the fridge for any remnants of a meal, opting for a quick reheat in the microwave. The familiar routine finds you on the couch, mindlessly consuming your food while the television blares, its content serving as mere background noise to the symphony of your contemplations.

In the last few weeks, nourishment has been an elusive companion, and the reason echoes within the recesses of your consciousness. Since bidding farewell to the ranch, your attempts at a hearty meal have been feeble at best. Despite your earnest endeavors, the appetite that once danced with enthusiasm seems to have deserted you entirely.

As you sigh, the rhythm of your fork against the plate harmonizes with the contemplation swirling in your mind. 

Two diverging paths lay before you, each demanding consideration - to stay or to go? 

Simultaneously, the looming question of the inheritance casts its shadow, forcing you to grapple with the decision to sell or keep it?

As uncertainty clouds your thoughts, a myriad of possibilities unfold before you. Returning to the ranch might mean facing your sister's wrath once more, while selling your share could sever ties irreversibly. 

Yet, holding onto your stake without a return holds the promise of avoiding immediate consequences. 

Startled by an unexpected knock on your door, you briefly contemplate ignoring it. However, the persistent tapping forces you off the couch, curiosity and caution intertwining as you approach to unravel the mystery at your doorstep.

Swinging the door open, your astonishment peaks as you come face to face with none other than Jimin, a soft and warm smile gracing his features.

His unexpected presence leaves you momentarily speechless, your mouth falling open as you drink in the sight of him. Clad in a loose-fitted shirt, denim pants, and those boots that never fail to catch your eye, he exudes an effortless charm. His tousled hair adds to the allure, making him nothing short of breathtakingly handsome.

A sense of amazement causes your eyes to flutter, leaving you standing there like a floundering fish caught off guard. His chuckle breaks the moment, and you realize you haven't even managed to say a simple ‘hi’.

“Jimin?” You inquire, quickly scanning your surroundings to ensure there's no one else lurking behind, ready to spring a surprise on you.

He runs a hand through his tousled hair, a warm smile playing on his lips. “Hey,” he greets with a hint of shyness.

“Come in,” you invite, your voice carrying a mix of curiosity and anticipation. As he enters, his eyes wander around the compact hallway, absorbing the essence of your two-bedroom sanctuary. It might not be a sprawling space, but it's a reflection of you – a place where every corner holds a piece of your story.

He chuckles nervously, a melody that dances through the room as he slips off his shoes. The familiar sight of them, adorned with the remnants of mud, speaks of untold adventures and stories etched in every speck of dirt.

“What brings you here, Jimin?” you inquire, fixing him with eyes filled with curiosity and anticipation, silently urging him to reveal the purpose behind his unexpected visit.

“I came here because there's something I wanted to talk to you about,” he begins, strolling deeper into your apartment. As he glances around, you can't help but feel a twinge of self-consciousness, as if he's peering into your soul, carefully examining every painting, lamp, and piece of decor that surrounds you.

“Do you paint?” he inquires, his gaze drawn to the easel tucked in the corner of your living room, surrounded by a towering collection of finished paintings. Intrigued, he moves closer to your creative space. His eyes sweep over the current painting on the easel – the one capturing a girl on her horse, wind tousling her hair – and then shift to the array of your ‘country’ collection resting against the walls.

“These are stunning. I had no idea you were an artist,” he remarks, his eyes lingering on the paintings, and he turns to you with a wide, appreciative smile.

“Thank you,” you reply, a touch of embarrassment coloring your cheeks, as compliments have always had a way of making you a bit bashful.

“I really hope these paintings find their way into the world, they're exceptional!” he exclaims, his eyes drawn to the one capturing a ranch perched on a hill, surveying a paddock filled with graceful horses.

“Actually, it's my livelihood, so yeah,” you respond with a soft smile, a mix of embarrassment from his praise and a sense of pride for your craft.

“That's incredible,” he remarks, shifting his body towards you, his gaze traveling from your head to your toes.

“You mentioned wanting to talk?” His gaze feels like a gentle but persistent probing, causing you to fidget nervously with the hem of your sundress.

“Sure, let's go to a cafe and have that talk,” he suggests, a glimmer of anticipation in his eyes.

“Absolutely, there's this adorable cafe nearby with the most delightful desserts. What do you think?” you suggest, a smile playing on your lips. Despite your efforts to downplay it, the word 'date' echoes in your mind, and your heart betrays your intentions, quickening its pace at the mere thought.

“Lead the way,” he nods, accompanying the words with a casual stroll back to the hallway.

Silently, you both slip into your shoes, you secure your purse, and step out of your apartment, descending the stairs to the lively streets below. As you navigate the urban buzz, your mind races at a million miles per hour, anticipation building as you wonder about the conversation he's eager to share.

The dessert cafe you're aiming for is a bit of a trek compared to the one you frequented with Minji. The silence between you and Jimin persists, almost becoming stifling as your curiosity intensifies. You can't help but wonder, could something significant have occurred involving Jessi?

The café looms into view, and a surge of anticipation prompts you to quicken your steps. Anxious to unravel the mystery of Jimin's conversation, you settle into an outdoor seat, basking in the warmth of the sun as you eagerly peruse the menu.

Curiosity dances in your eyes as you look up from the menu, questioning, “What do you want to get?” Your intrigue extends beyond the dessert options, yearning to discover the nuances of Jimin's taste in sweets.

A tender smile graces his lips as he places his order, “Just a chocolate cake and a strawberry bubble tea is fine.” You find his simplicity endearing and decide with a chuckle, “I'll have the same then.”

Making your way to the counter, you confidently order the tempting treats, savoring the anticipation. After settling the bill, you return to your seat, careful not to spill a drop of the deliciousness awaiting you in those cups.

You dismiss his attempt to split the bill with a warm smile, insisting that it's your treat. As you explain, a gentle generosity glows in your eyes, emphasizing your delight in sharing this small but delightful moment with him.

As you raise the fork, poised to indulge in the decadent chocolate cake, your gaze locks onto his enchanting brown eyes. With a flicker of curiosity, you inquire, “So, what's on your mind?”

A nervous chuckle escapes him, and he shields his smile with a hand, his eyes betraying a hint of unease. 

“It's about you actually,” he admits, his words hanging in the air with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

Your eyes widen, and your parted lips reflect the shock of his revelation. The mere idea that he wants to talk about you sends your heart into a frenzied rhythm. His gaze, soft as clouds, envelops you, and you can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in the depths of your chest.

Your eyes widen, and you question him with a mixture of surprise and nervousness, “Me?” The fluttering sensation in your stomach intensifies, and your hand hovers over the plate of decadent chocolate cake, dessert forgotten in the wake of unexpected revelation.

He starts, sipping through the straw of his strawberry bubble tea, “We miss you.”

You eye him, the flutters in your stomach intensifying—what does he mean by ‘we’?

“Everybody back home,” he smiles, his eyes crinkling with joy, yet a subtle twinge of sadness lurks beneath the surface, like shadows in the sunlight. You find yourself drawn to the complexity of his emotions, wondering what lies behind the façade of happiness.

You exhale, a heavy sigh carrying the weight of memories and emotions. “That place isn't my home anymore,” you confess, shoulders tensed against the flood of sentiments rushing back.

A subtle flinch in his eyes, a pang of hurt in his gaze—it leaves you questioning whether his sadness is somehow tethered to you. But that couldn't be true, could it?

“It could be,” he says, his eyes softening into a small smile, “everybody misses you, even your sister.”

At this, you arch an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief coloring your expression. “That doesn't sound like Jessi,” you laugh, though the sound is forced and choked.

“Well, she does. She feels bad for how she treated you,” he begins, and the tinge of sadness creeps back onto his face.

“Did Jessi send you here?” you question with a watchful and stern eye, not appreciating the unexpected turn in the conversation.

“No! Absolutely not!” he defends vehemently in mere seconds, sounding almost disgusted that you've even entertained the thought.

“I came here for me. Well, mostly for you,” he grins again, a warm and inviting smile that makes his wonderful brown eyes disappear, and you can't help but reciprocate with a smile of your own.

“I want you to reconsider coming back,” he adds, finally poking at his dessert. You look at him cautiously. “When you left the first time, it made me really sad,” he takes a bite of his cake before speaking again, “and when you left this time, it made me really sad again. The ranch isn't the same without you.”

You give him a contemplative smile, truly empathizing with his feelings, but you remain uncertain about returning to the ranch. The internal struggle weighs on your expression, caught between the desire to make him happy and the uncertainty that lingers within you.

“I'm sorry, Jimin. It's just... I'm not sure if returning is what I want,” you express, lifting the fork to your mouth, savoring the delicious cake. The sincerity in your apology mingles with the rich taste of dessert, creating a bittersweet moment.

“I noticed those paintings in your room. Are you sure you don’t want to come back?” he challenges, his gaze intense. An airy laugh escapes you, acknowledging the truth. Logic may dictate one thing, but your heart whispers another, a silent yearning for what once was.

Jimin leans in, a trace of chocolate on his lips captivating your attention, but you resist the urge to interrupt as he continues, “The ranch belongs to you just as much as it does to your sister.”

You nod in acknowledgment, grappling with the weight of truth in his words. The decision about your share of the ranch hangs in the balance, a pivotal choice between holding onto it or following through with your initial plan to sell.

“I know Jessi can be stubborn,” he remarks, and you burst into laughter, the shared recognition of your sister's stubbornness creating a light-hearted moment that echoes with his laughter.

His laughter fades, and he continues, “You can always return and hold onto your share of the ranch. That place is your home.”

You allow his words to linger within you for a moment, your gaze briefly captivated by the small piece of chocolate on his lips. A smile plays on your lips as you lick your finger, reaching out to his face. With a gentle swipe, you remove the tiny morsel of chocolate from his mouth. In that instant, his eyes widen slightly, yet he remains still, observing your every movement with a hawk-like intensity.

He grins warmly, releasing an airy chuckle that dances through the air. You lean back in your chair, savoring the sweet notes of your bubble tea as you both share a moment of easy laughter.

Appreciation colors your voice as you express your gratitude, genuinely thankful for his words and the warmth of his company today. “I'll give it some thought,” you add, leaving the door open to the possibility he's presented.

As the last bites of cake vanish, and the lingering taste of bubble tea fades, Jimin breaks the companionable silence with a suggestion that catches you off guard, “How about some shopping?” The invitation hangs in the air, carrying the promise of a new adventure.

His unexpected proposal catches you off guard, and you almost choke on the lingering taste of your drink. Despite the surprise, you find yourself nodding in agreement, silently marveling at the surreal nature of this man before you.

In the heart of the city, Jimin sweeps you away on an impromptu shopping spree, indulging your every desire to explore the stores. Patiently, he waits as you try on different outfits, offering his honest opinions on each. The experience is surprisingly intimate, radiating a domestic charm that lingers in the air. Though it simmers with the essence of a date, you resist delving too deeply into that notion, attempting to soothe the fluttering butterflies and the electrifying sensation that accompanies each of his glances.

“This is really nice,” Jimin remarks with a soft smile as the two of you stroll down the bustling street. After spending a few delightful hours shopping, you're en route back to your apartment when a captivating dress in a window display captures your attention. Jimin notices your gaze fixated on the black, flowery dress with its gracefully flowing skirt. “Do you want to try it?”

“Ah, but I'm getting tired,” you confess, allowing your body to sag against his, savoring the reassuring firmness of his shoulder. His touch sends sparks coursing through your entire being. You're keenly aware that Jimin must be weary too; his limp has become more pronounced, hinting at potential fatigue or pain from too much walking. Despite your concern, you hesitate to pry, choosing to respect his privacy for now.

“Humor me,” he chuckles, playfully guiding you into the store. Together, you locate the dress effortlessly. Fingers grazing the hangers, you zero in on your size and confidently snatch it. 

Making your way to the dressing rooms, you draw the curtains, stepping into the private space. Stripping off your clothes, you prepare to slip into the alluring fabric of the dress.

As the dress drapes over your silhouette, you gaze at your reflection in the dressing room mirror. There's an immediate sense of admiration, an unspoken agreement between you and the dress. You don't need to analyze it; the feeling of confidence envelops you. The heart-shaped neckline accentuates your collarbones, and the dress gracefully reaches your knees, a perfect harmony of style and comfort.

Parting the curtains, you step out, adorned in the black flowery dress, and as Jimin's eyes land on you, his pupils dilate, capturing a moment of speechlessness. A playful chuckle escapes you, and, reveling in the newfound confidence, you gracefully twirl in the dress, the fabric swirling around you like a dance partner.

You wear the dress with an air of effortless elegance, and as Jimin utters his compliment, a warm smile graces his lips, “You look really good in that dress.” 

However, when you meet his gaze, you're drawn into the depth of his eyes – dark and possessive, a captivating intensity that sparks a desire to unravel the mysteries concealed within them, as if they hold secrets worth exploring for hours.

Gratitude colors your words, “Thank you. I really like it too,” as your fingers caress the soft fabric of the dress. The tactile sensation adds to the pleasure, leaving you appreciating not just the appearance but the luxurious feel of the material.

“I'll get it for you,” he insists with a warm smile, brushing off your attempts to protest. Despite your insistence that you can purchase it yourself, he remains resolute. 

“Consider it a gift,” he adds, turning a simple shopping moment into a gesture of unexpected generosity, leaving you both touched and perplexed by his insistence on making your day a little brighter.

Opting not to pry further, you offer him a soft, sweet smile, your heart fluttering erratically within your chest. “Thank you,” you express with genuine gratitude, appreciating the gesture and the unspoken connection between you two.

Once you've changed back into your familiar attire, Jimin accompanies you to the cashier, graciously settling the bill for the dress. As you both exit the store, a shared secret wrapped in the fabric of the new dress, you stroll back to your apartment in a comfortable silence, the anticipation of unspoken feelings lingering in the air.

You opt for takeout, a ritual of comfort that usually involves lounging on the couch, indulging in a feast of flavors while the TV bathes the room in a soft glow. Surprisingly, Jimin embraces the laid-back ambiance, seamlessly blending into the familiar routine as if he's been a part of it all along.

As the meal unfolds, a symphony of flavors dancing on your taste buds, the room is graced with a comfortable silence occasionally interrupted by snippets of conversation. After savoring the last bite and clearing away the remnants of your feast, you gravitate back to the inviting embrace of the couch, sinking into its cushions.

Nestled side by side, your arms subtly entwined in a delicate dance of proximity, you both sink into the plush cushions of the couch, the gentle hum of the TV providing a soothing backdrop to the quiet intimacy shared in the room.

“Hey, considering it's getting late, how about crashing here tonight? I wouldn't want you navigating the midnight roads,” you suggest, extending a warm invitation, while your hands effortlessly choreograph a symphony of comfort by fetching drinks for both of you.

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to,” he grins, settling into your couch as if it were a familiar embrace, a subtle warmth filling the room.

“I actually wanted to tell you something else too,” he confesses, the air thick with anticipation as you turn your gaze fully on him, hanging on to every word like a secret waiting to unfold.

“I wanted to tell you about what happened after you left, all those years ago, when your father took you away,” he begins, drawing in a deep breath that elevates his chest, momentarily diverting your gaze to his well-defined pectorals.

“Okay, I'm all ears,” you respond, shifting your body towards his, allowing your knee to lightly brush against his thigh, a subtle shiver coursing down your spine.

“Well, shortly after you left, my mother passed away,” he begins to share, the weight of sorrow evident on his face, his hands involuntarily clenching as he revisits the painful memory.

“I'm truly sorry to hear that,” you express sympathetically, your hand instinctively finding its way to his thigh. Offering a gentle squeeze, a soft, almost inaudible moan escapes from him, revealing the vulnerability beneath his tough exterior.

“It's alright, it happened a long time ago,” he reassures, his hand covering yours on his thigh, a warm and comforting presence. Returning the sentiment with a smile, you encourage him to continue, sensing the weight of his past experiences.

“Well, we had the whole funeral thing and all that,” he sighs, a hint of deflation and bitterness in his hazel eyes, “but my dad remarried two months after.”

Your mouth falls open, and you gape at him, a strange gasping sound escaping. “Fuck,”" is all you manage to say. The revelation hits you hard, and you can't believe it. “He really remarried two months after your mother died?” Your voice carries a mix of surprise, hurt, and confusion, echoing the shock that reverberates through your thoughts.

“Yep. That's my dad for you,” he jokes and laughs, yet the lingering hurt is evident in his eyes. “The man couldn't be alone, you know. Some people just can't be alone. So he got in touch with one of his ex-girlfriends,” Jimin's eyes soften as he speaks, but a touch of sadness still shadows his gaze.

“And that's how I found out I had a half-brother,” he exhales, sinking back into the couch. You gape at him, utterly surprised by his revelation, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

“So you had no idea about Jungkook at all?” you ask, your hand instinctively covering your mouth. He shakes his head, a silent confirmation of the tangled web of secrets unraveling before you.

“No. My dad never told me. He admitted he knew immediately when he got Jungkook's mother pregnant. He paid her to stay away, and then, when my mother passed away, he promised her anything and everything she desired.” He clenches his hands, attempting to steady his breath. Despite his efforts, you can sense the struggle, prompting you to squeeze his thigh in reassurance, hoping to anchor him to the present moment.

“But Jungkook is younger than you, right?” you question, trying to reconcile the timeline in your head.

“Oh, yeah. My dad cheated on my mother with Jungkook's mother,” he says, running his hand through his hair, a pained expression crossing his face as he seeks solace in the reassuring grip of your hand.

“The whole thing was really hard on me as a kid, and accepting Jungkook as my brother was a struggle. We fought a lot, you know, all the typical sibling stuff,” he chuckles, the sound carrying a sense of relief and maturity, as if the weight of the past has lightened with time. You can sense they've come a long way since their childhood conflicts, now being grown men.

“What about your dad and Jungkook’s mom?” The question slips out, and you realize that neither Jimin nor Jungkook has spoken about their parents, especially considering you haven’t seen them on the ranch at all.

He takes a deep breath before responding, “They both died in a car accident a few years ago.”

“Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!” you exclaim, berating yourself for asking such a thoughtless question. You don't want to deepen his sorrow any further.

“Oh, it's okay. It happens, people die—that's partly why I just want to live my life to the fullest, you know?” The sadness lingering in his eyes persists, but now you can discern flickers of something more, a burning passion he talks about, the determination to embrace life to its fullest.

Under your hand on his thigh, you can feel his leg shake, and you're left wondering whether it's nervousness or somehow related to his limping. Now that he's shared such personal details, you contemplate whether it's the right moment to broach the subject and inquire about the cause of his limp.

“Jimin, there's something I've been wanting to ask you ever since I returned,” you confess, a twinge of nervousness coursing through you. The question is deeply personal, and you're aware that he might not be comfortable answering. Nonetheless, you're determined to respect whatever choice he makes.

He inches closer, his body melding with yours, the shared warmth creating an intimate cocoon. “What's been occupying your thoughts?” he asks, his voice a gentle invitation.

The words tumble out, a torrent of concern escaping your lips, “Why are you limping?” 

The raw honesty hangs in the air, and you wince, wondering if your directness was too much. You cringe internally, hoping your curiosity doesn't come off as intrusive.

The softness in his gaze is accompanied by a profound sadness in his eyes, tugging at your heartstrings and making you ache to envelop him in a comforting embrace.

The revelation unfolds like a carefully guarded secret, his voice carrying the weight of past pain and bitterness. “I was in a riding accident as a teenager. The horse crashed down on my right leg, crushing it. I couldn't walk, underwent surgery, and then grueling therapy to reclaim my mobility. But,” he adds with a hint of lingering hurt, “I'll always have this limping gait.” The anguish in his tone resonates, painting a vivid picture of a tumultuous journey.

Emotion wells up within you, threatening to spill over, but you muster the strength to keep it in check. “Does it ache when you walk for extended periods or ride?” 

The concern in your voice echoes the silent understanding that you share this moment, grappling with the reality of his persistent pain.

He graces you with a tender smile. “Yes, it does hurt, but I've grown accustomed to the pain,” he admits with a quiet resilience, revealing a depth of strength beneath the surface.

As you smile, a wave of empathy washes over you, a bittersweet blend of happiness for his strength and sorrow for the pain he endures. Deep down, an earnest wish stirs within you — a longing to ease the burden he carries, if only you could find a way.

“Does it hurt right now?” Concern colors your voice as you inch closer, your question laced with genuine worry. Leaning in, you search his eyes, silently hoping to catch a glimpse of the pain he might be hiding behind that soft smile.

His nod carries the weight of unspoken battles, each subtle movement a testament to the persistent ache he endures, “It does.”

Your hand, poised on his thigh, ventures boldly along the contours of his powerful leg. Locking eyes, you witness the subtle shift in his gaze, growing more intense with each upward movement of your hand. As your fingers edge perilously close to his crotch, you pause, your touch transforming into a soothing massage. A question lingers in the air, “Is this okay?”

“Y-Yes,” he breathes, the sound carrying a breathless quality, reminiscent of a soft moan. You decide not to dwell on that, focusing instead on the intent behind your actions. If your touch can alleviate even a fraction of his pain, you're determined to offer him the relief he deserves.

Your hand tightens its grip on his thigh, and you observe the way he nervously bites his lip. As you massage his thigh, your movements tracing a path from his knee to his crotch and back up, you become aware of the building tension in the room. Your hands start to feel clammy, mirroring the quickening pace of Jimin's breath, matching the rhythm of your own. It dawns on you that, in the process, you're unintentionally exploring intimate territories, practically groping him and feeling him up!

Your hands retreat as if recoiling from a burn, a sudden surge of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. “I'm sorry,” you utter, the words stumbling out, attempting to cloak the awkwardness that now hangs in the air between you two.

A rush of heat floods your cheeks, a vivid blush that likely extends to your ears. You curse your hands for their wanderings and your horny mind.

“It’s okay,” a reassuring chuckle escapes him, though the aftermath of your touch lingers in his eyes, a subtle impact you can't ignore. The flutters in your stomach take flight once more, swirling in a dance of unspoken tension.

“Would you be up for a movie?” you propose, attempting to redirect the conversation and steer clear of the tantalizing thoughts that have momentarily consumed your mind.

“Sure.” He says with a smile, sinking into the comfort of the couch as you scroll through movies on your phone. With a seamless connection, you stream a quirky rom com from your phone to the TV - a foolproof choice for a laid-back evening.

As the movie unfolds its scenes, Jimin gradually inches closer until your bodies meld together; his warmth envelops you, a comforting shield against the world. Drowsiness creeps in, causing your body to lean against Jimin's solid frame. The rhythmic thud of his heartbeat, resonating beneath your ear on his firm chest, creates a soothing lullaby. Oblivious to the movie's narrative, you succumb to a cascade of yawns, surrendering to the peaceful pull of sleep.

Wrapped in Jimin’s embrace, he becomes a haven of security and comfort, a living embodiment of home. In his presence, your tense muscles unwind, and your heartbeat harmonizes with his, creating a comforting rhythm. As relaxation unfurls through your being, your head descends, settling into the warmth of his lap. Unbeknownst to you, soft breaths escape your lips as sleep claims you, while Jimin, tenderly stroking your cheek and hair. Little do you know, three words escape his lips, destined to alter the course of your life.

In the morning, you gradually rouse to the sensation of something firm pressing against your face, yet there's an unexpected tenderness, a gentle caress against your skin. Your pillow, typically mundane, now cradles your head in an oddly satisfying manner, prompting you to nuzzle into it, seeking additional solace. A contented murmur escapes your lips in fatigue as you attempt to stretch your limbs, only to discover the subtle ache that permeates your entire body.

Wait.

Your eyes snap open in realization. This isn't the familiar embrace of your bed, and the comforting pillow beneath your head is anything but ordinary. A surge of awareness courses through you as you come to terms with an unexpected reality – you're sprawled across Jimin's thigh. 

More precisely, you’re nestled against his groin, where you abruptly discover the undeniable evidence of his morning arousal.

You spring to attention, the warmth of embarrassment coloring your cheeks, heart racing like a runaway train against your ribcage. In the hazy glow of early morning, you fumble for the most sincere apology you can conjure, breathlessly exclaiming, “Oh, goodness! I'm so sorry!”

As you settle onto the couch, your gaze locks with his still sleepy and drowsy eyes. The realization hits that you both must have drifted off in this intimate position, with you cradled in the warmth of his inviting lap.

Jimin's chuckle resonates like a melodious tune in the early morning, a soothing sound that plays a soft serenade to your ears. Despite your efforts to steady your heartbeat and contain the fluttering sensations, his laughter creates a symphony that dances through the awakening air.

“It's okay. I just woke up,” he rises and stretches, a lazy yawn escaping his lips. Why does he have to look this enticing? His blonde locks cascade in unruly curls, framing a face that's both soft and slightly puffy from sleep. Those pink lips, as if kissed by the night, slightly nibbled, beckon dangerous thoughts. As he stretches, biceps tensing and shirt teasingly riding up, a glimpse of his happy trail emerges, a sight your eyes try to resist but fail. Damn it, you scold yourself, but then his armpit becomes visible, and even that seems inexplicably appealing.

Oh, he smells divine—powdery softness, a hint of sweetness, warmth, and richness all mingling to craft an intoxicating musky scent. It envelops you, leaving your entire being tingling with an irresistible allure.

Jimin appears entirely unfazed, but you're left feeling utterly flustered, convinced your cheeks must be ablaze. “I'm so sorry for dozing off on you. I meant to offer you my bed, but I guess I fell asleep before I could say anything,” you chuckle, trying to shake off the lingering traces of sleep from your weary body.

A sudden realization strikes you like a bolt of lightning. 

Oh my god. If you’re sore, Jimin must be too! You practically slept on his injured leg!

“I apologize for your leg—I can't believe I slept on it. I might have undone all the massage from yesterday,” you groan in frustration, scolding yourself for your apparent weakness for this man. He's your childhood friend, the one who came and told you that you belong— at the place you once called home, reigniting something dormant within you, a feeling that has slumbered for centuries, now awakening and blossoming slowly.

“It's really okay,” he assures you with a soft squeeze to your leg. His hand feels firm and warm, mirroring his comforting presence. You realize a desire for more, but you tread carefully on dangerous waters, doing your best to keep your more horny thoughts in check.

“I'll have to head back soon,” he says, punctuating his statement with another heartfelt yawn, a languid stretch emphasizing the inevitable departure.

“Do you like pancakes? I could whip up a batch before you head out,” you suggest, caught between the genuine desire to treat him to a hearty breakfast and the subtle hope that it might extend his stay, sparing him the long drive on an empty stomach.

“Absolutely,” he responds, his soft smile revealing a glimpse of those charmingly crooked teeth. As you rise from your seat and head into the kitchen to whip up the pancakes, a subtle urgency whispers in your mind, warning that if you linger too long, keeping your hands to yourself might become an increasingly challenging feat.

With a culinary flair, you whip up the pancakes in record time, the aroma of warm batter filling the air. As you both settle around the small dining table, the atmosphere is filled with the comforting clinks of cutlery against plates. Amidst bites of fluffy pancakes, Jimin unveils the captivating tale of wild horses roaming the ranch, a narrative that unfolds with tales of Yoongi's quest to tame these untamed spirits, turning them into dependable companions through a gentle, patient approach. 

Fascinated, you ponder the intricacies of Jimin's story. “I had no idea such a thing was possible,” you muse, savoring a sip of water as if to quench not just your thirst but also your curiosity.

“Yoongi has a real knack for gentling horses, it's like second nature to him,” he shares, his smile lighting up the room as he effortlessly joins you in tidying up after the meal.

As the moment lingers, a subtle sense of farewell hovers in the air, but you're not quite ready to part ways with Jimin. The warmth of his company, the echoes of the past, all make you wish he didn't have to leave just yet.

Gratitude colors his words as he stands in the hallway, boots on, ready to step out into the world again. “Thank you for having me over,” he expresses, his gaze carrying a blend of sincerity and a hint of reluctance.

“No problem,” you respond with a soft smile, “having you here was truly enjoyable.”

“I hope to see you again, maybe back home?” His gaze lingers in your eyes for what feels like an eternity. There you stand, like a lovestruck fool, anticipating the one thing your brain has been yearning for since you glimpsed his softly bitten lips in the morning. The hope in his voice resonates, causing your heart to beat erratically in your chest once more.

Your gaze rises to meet his, and as he strides closer, his eyes lock onto yours. The proximity is electrifying; you sense his warm breath teasing your face, and anticipation builds as he leans in, closing the space between you.

You surrender to the moment, shutting your eyes as his warm hands cradle your cheeks. A delicate touch, his nose brushes against yours, setting off a delightful jolt that courses through your entire being. Then, in a tender ascent, his plush lips descend upon your forehead, leaving an imprint of warmth that lingers.

Instinctively, your fingers tighten around his biceps, a reflexive response to the unexpected closeness. A soft chuckle escapes your lips as the realization dawns – he's kissing your forehead, a gentlemanly gesture that leaves a trail of warmth lingering on your skin.

He withdraws, and as you open your eyes, his warm, smiling face is the last thing you see. “See you at home,” he whispers, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a lingering promise in the air.

As he gracefully exits the room, descending the stairs with an effortless charm, your heart beats wildly, a flutter of butterflies threatening to carry you away. Your entire being tingles, breath caught in a sweet suspension. A lovestruck smile plays on your lips, lingering like the echo of his presence.

Home.

He wants you to come home.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog (a reblog would really help getting the story out more), and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy, so please don’t be a silent reader 💜

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

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

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

🐴Chapter title: Broken Dreams

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

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

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

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

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

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

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 14.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pregnant. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

🐴Chapter summary: Jimin thinks back on all this bad decisions, and how much he has truly hurt you. He loves you, and he wants you back, but unable to articulate his feelings properly, he finds himself writing a letter to you. 🐴Chapter title: Love Letter

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

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

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

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

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

🐴Chapter warnings: low self-esteem, low confidence, hurt, sadness, overthinking, destructive thoughts, Jimin’s POV, angst, mention of sex.

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 13.4k

🐴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 💿 “Love Someone” by Lukas Graham. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: this is entirely from Jimin’s POV. Both OC and Jimin have been through a lot, and they have both hurt each other in different ways (but mostly it’s been Jimin hurting her 😭). In this chapter, we will get better insight into Jimin’s thoughts and his feelings all the way from the beginning! I really hope you like it— please let me know. I know Jimin has been behaving horribly, and I’m not excusing his behavior with the chapter, I’m simply saying that he is a flawed human like the rest of us, and no, we might not all agree or even understand his behavior, but.. 🥹 And if you don’t like these kind of chapters/stories were the story is essentially being retold from another character’s point of view, it’s fine, you are welcome to skip it, but if you want to know why Jimin has been acting like a douche, this one’s for you. Also, there are a bit of new stuff in here too, but it’s mostly just Jimin thinking about his bad behavior, lol, so it’s quite sad too 😭

🐴Author’s note— extra: I’m almost finished with writing the series and I got this cute idea to do a Q&A with the characters (questions for me is also okay). So, you can already send in your asks (could also be a comment/reblog, though I think asks are easier for me to keep track of). I’ll turn on anon asks, so if you prefer that, there’s that option. But please, be nice, okay? (not that I don’t expect that of you, I’ve just gotten nasty asks before). You can ask anything, to the characters, like why the behaved/thought/said something or what they didn’t say or do 🤭 You can also ask me about the story, the process or anything like that. As I said, the asks for the characters will be included in the Epilogue (I’ll also reply to the asks, I won’t reply right away, but keep them until the Epilogue will be released!)

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*

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

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

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

“We have enough to guide usWe have enough to lastWe’re not aloneWe never wereYou and I aren’t lostOh hold me very tightlyHold me fast and strongI am your loveWon’t stray from youYou and I belong” ‘My Heart is Like a River’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Fuck.

This was the last thing he expected. 

He never envisioned this moment, the one where you’d walk away, leaving him shattered and angry. He didn’t want this. Not in the slightest. Yet here he is, consumed by a turbulent mix of sorrow and self-directed fury, haunted by a year’s worth of regrettable decisions. He’s unable to find sleep, which is why he sinks into the couch at night, his knuckles white with tension as he grips a pen, its tip poised over the stark emptiness of the paper laid out before him.

He grasps the reasons behind your decision to end things, but the ache it leaves behind is unbearable. It’s a raw, searing pain that gnaws at him relentlessly. Understanding that he’s the architect of his own misery only compounds the agony. How does he begin to convey the depth of his remorse, the magnitude of his love for you? Every mistake he’s made weighs heavily on his conscience, a burden he’s not sure he can ever fully unburden. The prospect of reaching out to you now feels daunting, uncertain. He can still vividly recall the anguish etched across your face as you uttered those words, and the thought of adding to your pain is unbearable. For too long, he’s been a source of hurt, and the realization cuts him to the core. 

He despises himself for causing you so much pain.

Lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts, he grapples with the enormity of his love for you and the depth of his remorse. Words, he knows, can only scratch the surface of what he truly feels. How does one encapsulate a torrent of emotions in mere letters? Yet, he resolves to try, to lay bare his heart in this letter, hoping that somewhere amidst the ink-stained pages, you’ll find a glimmer of understanding, a shard of forgiveness.

As he traverses the hallway, the resonating clinks of heels guide his steps, drawing him towards the kitchen like a siren’s call. Entering, he beholds a vision: a woman, clad in a summer dress that dances with every step, her attire an incongruous yet captivating sight against the rustic backdrop. A wry smile tugs at his lips as he observes her, her presence a curious enigma, tinged with a hint of déjà vu. Could it be? Has he crossed paths with her before, or is she merely a figment of his imagination, conjured from distant memories?

“Can I help you?” He ventures, his tone a blend of curiosity and a subtle undercurrent of intrigue. His gaze lingers on you, tracing the contours of your form, an unspoken question hanging in the air between you. Yet, met with silence, he repeats his inquiry, his voice carrying a note of gentle persistence.

“I’m so sorry,” you stammer, the nervous energy palpable in your voice as you fidget with the folds of your dress, “I’m looking for Jessi?”

He chuckles warmly, a playful glint in his eyes as he flashes you a disarming smile. “Who are you?” His curiosity piqued, he leans in slightly, intrigued by your unexpected presence.

“I’m Jessi’s sister,” you declare confidently, your arms folding beneath your chest. As the realization dawns on him, he’s flooded with a mix of surprise and nostalgia. Of course, you’re Jessi’s sister! How could he have missed it? Memories come flooding back, of days spent playing together as children, and he can’t help but feel a rush of warmth at the sight of you, his childhood friend. A hint of that old crush resurfaces, sending his heart racing in his chest.

His cheeks warm with a blush, though he fights to keep it concealed. Admitting that his crush on you never waned might be too much, too soon. “You don’t remember me?” He ventures, a flicker of hope in his eyes, yet tinged with apprehension. The thought that you might not recall him is unsettling; after all, he had his own struggles recognizing you, despite the unmistakable familiarity.

As you simply stare at him, he adds, “It’s me, Jimin,” a hint of self-realization accompanying his words. It dawns on him that he never properly introduced himself, contributing to the confusion.

“Park?” You echo, incredulity weaving through your voice as you study him, and a soft chuckle escapes him, granting you a moment to recollect the countless hours spent playing together.

“Yeah! Don’t you remember? We played together when we were kids,” he chuckles warmly, gently nudging your memory in the hope of rekindling the moments of your childhood, now flooding vividly back to him.

You were such a vibrant and spirited girl back then, and you’re just as captivating now. You used to play games with him and your sister, embarking on countless adventures around your ranch and his parents’ property.

As recognition dawns upon you, he observes the tension in your features melting away, replaced by a sense of familiarity. Gesturing for you to take a seat, he retrieves a glass of water, all the while marveling at your presence. You look breathtaking, and the realization that you’re back hits him like a tidal wave. It’s been two decades since he last saw you, yet the memories flood back with a vengeance, reigniting the flames of that childhood crush in his heart.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” he offers his condolences, aware of the complexity of losing a parent, especially considering the strained relationship you’ve had with her for years, details he gleaned from your sister. Your expression shifts into one of pain, but you quickly dismiss it with a “It’s whatever,” though he senses it's anything but. Respectful of your boundaries, he refrains from probing further, though he silently wishes you’d open up. If ever you needed someone to talk to, he’d be there in a heartbeat, ready to lend a listening ear and a comforting shoulder to cry on, no matter the hour.

He offers you a warm, reassuring smile, a gesture he knows he can manage in times like these. Just then, he hears the familiar footsteps of your sister approaching, “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Her usual nagging about work trailing behind her like a persistent echo. But sometimes, he thinks, a brief respite is necessary before diving back into the grind. With a chuckle, he bids you farewell, promising to return to his tasks shortly. As he returns to his work, a contented smile graces his lips, though beneath the surface, his heart races with an unexpected flurry of emotions, stirred up by your unexpected presence.

As the barn party kicks off, Jimin finds himself consumed by thoughts of you, his mind drifting back to the encounter in the kitchen. It’s a strange sensation, akin to the giddiness of a schoolboy harboring a secret crush—except in this case, it's not just a youthful infatuation; it’s a reunion with someone from his past. When you and your father left the ranch, he never imagined seeing you again, the sudden departure leaving him with unspoken feelings he couldn't articulate at the time. He regrets not expressing his affection for you back then, but in hindsight, he knows you were both just kids, and such declarations might not have been taken seriously anyway.

Now that you’ve returned and his dormant feelings have resurfaced with a vengeance, Jimin feels an urgent need to express himself. He’s torn between the desire to reconnect with you as friends or dare to hope for something more. As he attempts to rein in his racing thoughts, he realizes just how awkward he can be around women, especially you, whom he holds in such high regard. But despite his nervousness, his affection for you outweighs his fear of awkwardness, propelling him to seek a meaningful connection with you once more.

The barn pulses with the rhythm of the music, matching the frantic beat of Jimin’s thoughts. He caught a glimpse of you earlier, but amidst the sea of people, he’s lost sight of you. The desire to reconnect with you burns fiercely within him, igniting the hope of perhaps mustering the courage to ask you out on a date. As he navigates through the crowd, he can’t shake the anticipation building in his chest, eager to find you and seize the opportunity to reignite your friendship.

As Jimin steps outside into the darkness, his heart races with anticipation, but what he encounters crushes him like a ton of bricks. His eyes land on you, pinned against the wall by his own brother, Jungkook, their heavy breaths echoing in the night. The sight drains the color from his world, leaving him feeling hollow and breathless. It’s a visceral punch to the gut, witnessing you entangled with his brother in such an intimate embrace. He can’t bear to look, the sickness rising in his throat threatens to overwhelm him. With a quick turn, he retreats back inside, his heart heavy with sorrow, his body trembling with a coldness that belies the heat of the barn.

Your eyes, reflecting surprise and sorrow, haunt his thoughts relentlessly. Jimin’s anger simmers beneath the surface, fueled by the sight of you with his brother. Jungkook’s magnetic charm is a curse Jimin knows all too well. It’s a pattern he’s witnessed countless times— his dates inevitably gravitate towards Jungkook’s allure, leaving Jimin feeling like a mere shadow in comparison. The pain of this familiar betrayal cuts deep, gnawing at his insides. He curses himself for his own hesitance, wishing he had seized the chance to connect with you before Jungkook’s spell took hold. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t be entangled with his brother now.

His chest tightens with a mix of fury and resignation. Rationality tells him you owe him nothing, yet the sting of rejection cuts deep. It’s a bitter pill he’s swallowed before, a recurring cycle of dashed hopes. Jungkook’s effortless allure always casts a shadow over Jimin’s prospects, leaving him feeling like fate’s perpetual underdog. The injustice of it all boils within him, a potent blend of anger and despair.

The weight of disappointment crushes his spirit, suffocating any semblance of enjoyment. What’s the point of staying at the party when the sight of you with his brother taints every corner of the barn? It’s a bitter pill to swallow, realizing he’s become a mere spectator in the game of love, always on the sidelines while Jungkook effortlessly steals the show. With a heavy heart, he contemplates leaving, unwilling to dampen the festivities with his darkening mood.

Jimin’s heart clenches at the mere thought of encountering you again, knowing all too well the anguish that awaits him in your eyes. Since witnessing you with his brother, he’s been ensnared by a whirlwind of hurt and resentment, emotions he’s been struggling to untangle. Your return, alongside your sister, feels like a cruel twist of fate, forcing him to confront the turmoil bubbling within him. Avoiding your gaze has become his coping mechanism, a feeble attempt to shield himself from the raw vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. Deep down, he still harbors affection for you, but the shadow of your entanglement with Jungkook looms large, casting doubt on any potential future between you. He doesn’t think you’ll ever be satisfied with him, now that you’ve been with his brother. The bitter realization gnaws at his soul, threatening to consume him whole. Yet, he knows dwelling on such thoughts serves no purpose, only deepening the wounds already etched into his heart.

“Where’s Kook?” Your sister’s inquiry cuts through the heavy silence, offering Jimin a fleeting respite from the tumult of his emotions. Grateful for the distraction, he exhales a silent sigh of relief, seizing the opportunity to avert his gaze from you, if only for a moment longer.

“In the barn fixing his bike, I’ll get him,” he responds with a forced smile, determined to maintain a facade of composure despite the turmoil within. As he strides past both of you, he catches the subtle shift in your gaze, but he refuses to acknowledge it, steeling himself against the flood of emotions threatening to engulf him. Ignoring you feels like self-preservation, a necessary shield against the ache in his heart.

Jimin locates his brother, and together they make their way back to where you and your sister stand. Jungkook, ever the cocky one, can’t resist a jab, his smirk evident as he quips, “Back for round two?”

Jimin scowls at his brother’s remark, finding him insufferable as usual. Anger bubbles within him, exacerbated by the widened shock in your eyes, as if they might pop out of their sockets at any moment. With an exasperated eye roll, Jimin brushes off Jungkook’s comment.

“No, thank you,” you sputter, and Jimin can’t help but feel a glimmer of relief, sensing that you’re not interested in his brother’s crude advances.

“You’re welcome anytime, babe,” his brother teases, winking at you, and Jimin suppresses a sigh. Jungkook’s flirtatious nature is no secret, but at this moment, Jimin can’t help but feel a twinge of irritation at his brother’s antics.

“Enough of that,” your sister declares, her interruption a welcome relief from the tension swirling in the air. Jimin exhales slowly, grateful for the distraction, as the mere thought of you and Jungkook ignites a fiery surge of jealousy within him. He knows delving into the depths of his unresolved emotions would only unravel him further, and he’s not ready to confront that turmoil just yet.

He catches the subtle glances you steal in his direction, but your eyes dart away the moment they meet his. It’s a confusing dance of fleeting interest, leaving Jimin bewildered and uncertain. After all, you’ve been intimate with his brother, so why would you show any interest in him? The ambiguity of your gaze sends his thoughts spiraling, unsure of what to make of the situation. Deciding it’s best to avoid further speculation, Jimin opts to keep his gaze lowered, wrestling with the tumult of emotions churning within him.

The bar door swings open, and there you are, clad in nothing but pants and a bra. His gaze darts to your anxious eyes, taking in the tremble of your body as you and your entourage make your way over to their table.

“Did you lose a bet or something?” Jungkook’s voice rings out, accompanied by a sharp whistle and a burst of laughter. Jimin rolls his eyes, frustration bubbling up at his brother’s relentless teasing of you.

He watches as you effortlessly roll your eyes at his brother’s teasing remark, your composure unshaken as you confidently take a seat.

“Well. Someone doesn’t share clothes. Apparently.” You quip with a hint of playful spite, directing your gaze at your sister, and he can’t help but chuckle, hastily concealing it behind a hand pressed to his lips.

You’re introduced to Yoongi and Hoseok, and Soo-ah hands you a beer, initiating conversation. Jimin finds his gaze lingering on your exposed skin, noticing the goosebumps forming and wondering if you’re feeling the chill.

“Aren’t you cold?” He notices how you bite your lip, but you merely shrug in response. Jimin considers offering you his shirt, though he’s unsure of how you’d react. Despite being comfortable sitting shirtless himself, he contemplates making the gesture anyway—

“Here. You can have my shirt,” his brother beats him to it, and Jimin grumbles, clenching his hands under the table in frustration. Damn it. He had wanted to offer you his shirt, but now he’s too late because he hesitated and over-thought the situation. Again. 

God, sometimes Jimin really despises his brother.

“Well, look who’s playing the gentleman,” Yoongi teases with a playful smack to Jungkook’s chest, and Jimin can’t help but roll his eyes once more. He’s well aware that his brother always has an agenda, always.

“Easier to pick up the ladies like this, anyway,” Jungkook remarks with a smirk, confirming Jimin’s suspicions. Jungkook may not be aiming to win you back, but he’s always on the lookout for the next pretty face. It’s moments like these that remind Jimin just how shallow his brother can be, always thinking with his dick instead of his brain.

As the table empties out, leaving just you and Jimin, a palpable tension lingers in the air, thickening with each passing moment. He can sense your uncertainty, and it mirrors his own nervousness. The weight of the unspoken words between you feels heavy, almost suffocating. Jimin shifts uncomfortably, unsure if he should break the silence or let it linger, unsure if his words will only add to the tension.

“I’m sorry if I did something wrong,” your hesitant voice cuts through the tension like a knife, breaking the suffocating silence that had settled between you. With a nervous expression, you fidget with your beer, your eyes betraying a mixture of apprehension and genuine concern.

His breath catches in his throat, surprised by your unexpected apology. Nodding gently, he gestures for you to elaborate, his mind racing with a blend of curiosity and cautious apprehension. Though uncertain of the reason behind your apology, he’s prepared to listen, his thoughts swirling with tentative guesses.

“I’m sorry I slept with your brother…” Your words cut through the air like a chilling breeze, each syllable heavy with the weight of regret. In a hushed confession, you lay bare the source of your apology, and he feels his chest tighten in response. His facade wavers momentarily, a flinch betraying the torrent of emotions raging within him. Beneath the veneer of composure, a tempest of anger swirls, threatening to engulf him in its fiery grasp.

“Why apologize for that?” His voice carries a hint of curiosity, a mask for the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. With a casual sip of his beer, he studies you intently, his eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. You’re allowed to fuck whoever you want, he acknowledges inwardly, but the bitterness lingers, souring the taste of his thoughts. It’s not so much the act itself that stings, but the circumstances surrounding it—his brother, the witness to your intimacy. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, and he can’t help but lament the unfortunate twist of fate.

“It just seems like you’re angry with me… or something,” you add tentatively, your words laced with apprehension. He notices the nervous edge in your voice, the subtle tremor betraying your uncertainty, and how you avert your gaze, as if unable to meet his eyes.

“Look,” he starts, leaning in slightly over the table, his voice measured yet tinged with underlying emotion, “I’m not really angry. Maybe I’m more disappointed?” Despite his attempt at rationalizing his feelings, he knows deep down that anger brews within him, though its target remains elusive—whether directed at you or his brother, he’s unsure. After all, they’re all adults here, and dwelling on this resentment won’t change anything. Deep down, he knows he’s harboring a sense of anger, not necessarily at you, but at the recurring pattern where his brother always seems to come out on top. It’s a feeling of disappointment that runs deeper than just this one incident—it’s a narrative that’s unfolded over years, leaving him questioning his own worth. And he recognizes, it isn’t your fault; you’re just caught in the crossfire of a longstanding dynamic.

“You are, of course, allowed to sleep with whoever you want to. It’s just… it’s always him.” His words carry a raw edge, laced with a palpable mix of frustration and resentment. Jungkook’s recurring presence in such situations gnaws at him, a constant reminder of his brother’s tendency to overshadow him. Yet, even amidst his own turmoil, he realizes the futility of roping you into their tangled sibling rivalry. It’s an unhealthy dynamic, one he knows all too well, and he doesn’t want to drag you into its murky depths.

He watches as a wave of realization washes over your features, but he feels compelled to add more. “All women are drawn to him. He’s always fucking around. Not that I’m saying I want to be like that, but sometimes, it would be nice to feel noticed, you know?” Damn it. He said too much. Did he have too many beers? No, he’s barely finished his first bottle, and yet here he is, pouring out truths from the depths of his heart.

Damn it, why did he say that? He curses inwardly, realizing he’s delving into territory he’d rather avoid. He desperately needs to steer the conversation elsewhere, pronto.

“You know… When I saw you that day in the kitchen after all those years,” he starts tentatively, hoping to shift the focus away from his raw emotions.

He rakes his fingers through his hair, a gesture betraying the turmoil within. “I never thought I would see you again when you and your father left,” he confesses, a mixture of longing and regret bubbling beneath the surface, camouflaged by a forced chuckle.

His nerves prickle like a live wire, urging him to speak, even as his mind screams caution. “Did you know,” he blurts, the words tumbling out despite his better judgment, “I had a crush on you when we were kids?” His throat tightens with apprehension, berating himself internally for the sudden confession. Was it just one beer he had? Because why on earth would he reveal this now?

“I had no idea,” you reply, your voice laced with surprise and regret, your features softening with an apologetic expression. “I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he chuckles, though the tension in his voice betrays his true feelings. His heart races with nervousness, cursing himself for his lack of restraint in revealing his past crush. But there's a deeper secret he keeps buried: his current feelings for you, perhaps even love. It's a precarious balance between wanting to confess and fearing rejection. He prays his mouth won’t betray him again, divulging more than he’s ready to admit.

Sensing the danger of delving further into emotions, he swiftly changes the topic, opting for safer conversational waters. Offering to fetch another round of beers, he steers the discussion towards lighter subjects. Yet, beneath his composed facade, he finds himself unnerved by you. There’s an undeniable allure to your demeanor— a blend of nervousness and confidence that both intrigues and intimidates him. He’s drawn to your self-assuredness, yet fears the intensity of his own feelings, wary of pushing you away with his overwhelming emotions.

“I’ve been considering heading back home. It just feels like I mess everything up…” You confess, your words tinged with uncertainty, and he feels a surge of emotion. Panic grips him at the mere thought of you leaving. No. No. He can’t bear the idea of you walking away, of missing out on the potential moments you could share together. Despite his internal conflict, a selfish desire whispers in his heart, urging you to stay, if only for a little while longer.

“No, no, you shouldn’t give up. Please, give it some more time,” he urges, his voice laced with genuine concern. Each word carries the weight of his longing, a silent plea for you to stay. Memories of his childhood flood his mind, reminding him of the warmth you brought to his heart. He can’t bear the thought of losing you again, not when he feels a flicker of hope reignite in his heart at your return.

Jimin has been surreptitiously observing you as you sort wool with Yoongi, stealing glances whenever he can muster the courage. Each time your eyes meet his, it sends a flutter through his chest, a silent reminder of the unresolved emotions swirling within him. He grapples with the realization that perhaps he’s been too quick to let his insecurities dictate his reactions, especially when he witnessed you with his brother. Yet, amidst the tangled mess of doubts and hopes, one thing remains clear—he still harbors feelings for you. With each passing moment, he wrestles with the notion of reaching out, of bridging the gap that has formed between you. Could there be a chance to mend what’s broken, to transcend the shadow of past misunderstandings? As he contemplates these questions, he can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there’s a glimmer of mutual interest between you two. But how does one navigate the delicate dance of reigniting a connection fraught with uncertainties? Jimin finds himself at a loss, grappling with the complexities of his own heart as he yearns for a sign, a signal that could pave the way for a new beginning.

Caught off guard by the sudden outburst, Jimin’s thoughts scatter like startled birds as your sister’s sharp reprimand slices through the air. He can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for you, knowing firsthand the intensity of Jessi’s temper. Watching your gaze falter, retreating from the accusatory finger jabbing in your direction, he senses your discomfort like a palpable wave washing over the scene. A surge of concern floods Jimin’s chest as he worries about the impact Jessi’s harsh words might have on you. Could this tirade be the final straw, driving you away for good? The fear gnaws at him, a silent plea echoing in his mind for some semblance of peace to return to the tense atmosphere.

As you take a hesitant step backward, Jimin’s heart clenches with concern, his grip on the clippers loosening as he watches you dart towards the door. Without a second thought, he abandons the tools and bolts after you, propelled by a surge of urgency to catch up and ensure you’re okay.

“Please come back,” Jimin’s plea is tinged with desperation as he watches you retreat towards the house. His heart races with a sense of urgency, knowing he can’t let you leave without offering some comfort. He longs to reassure you that your sister’s harshness doesn't define your worth, that everything will eventually fall into place.

As you pivot, a look of anguish etched across your features, you confess, “I fuck everything up Jimin.” His heart aches at your admission, wondering what else burdens your mind. “I feel utterly useless on this ranch,” you add, your voice heavy with self-doubt. Jimin's resolve strengthens, determined to offer you the solace and encouragement you desperately need.

“It’s to be expected. You’ll get better,” he reassures you, his voice laced with sincerity. Despite his efforts to comfort you, he notices how you’ve withdrawn into yourself, lost in your own thoughts.

“Do you think I belong here?” Your question catches him off guard and he gapes at you, but he already knows the answer to your question, so it’s easy.

“I do,” he says, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that belies the simplicity of the words. It’s a plea, a fervent wish whispered into the air, a silent urging for you to see what he sees – that this place, this ranch, is where you truly belong. Deep down, he knows it’s selfish, but damn it, he can’t bear the thought of you leaving.

“I believe you just need time,” he offers with a gentle smile, though beneath it, he can feel the weight of your uncertainty. It’s a small offering of solace, but he knows words alone can’t ease the turmoil brewing within you.

“I don’t think I fit in, and I feel like an imposter,” you confess, your voice carrying the weight of uncertainty. Each word strikes a chord within him, a pang of sadness laced with determination. He can’t bear the thought of you feeling out of place, not when he envisions you finding your footing here, becoming a part of this place he calls home. He believes in you, in your ability to belong, and he’s willing to give you all the time you need to see it too.

One thing is a childhood crush, but delving into the depths of who you are now, the adult version of you, that’s what he craves. He yearns to unravel the layers, to discover if there’s a deeper connection waiting to be unearthed between you two, something more profound and meaningful than just fleeting feelings from the past.

As the rain cascades down upon both of you, Jimin’s attention isn’t on the weather, but on you, on your emotions. “We should get back” he suggests, aware that the rain shows no signs of relenting. Yet, amidst the downpour, he seizes a moment of boldness, reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. “You belong here,” he affirms, his touch conveying a silent plea for you to stay, to weather the storm together, not just the rain outside, but the uncertainties within.

He prays silently that his words and gestures are enough to anchor you here, but deep down, he understands he can’t dictate your choices. The decision to stay must be yours alone, driven by your own desires and dreams. Yet, a fervent longing swells within him, an unspoken wish that you’ll choose to remain, not for his sake, but for your own. Oh, how he yearns for you to stay.

You left. It’s a twist he didn’t see coming, yet somehow, it makes sense. Your sister’s relentless demands and the weight of your own insecurities pushed you away. He empathizes; Jessi’s temper can be overwhelming, and she hasn’t exactly rolled out the welcome mat for you. And your self-doubt about your skills on the ranch? He gets it. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and he certainly wasn’t a master of everything from the get-go either. Improvement comes with time, and he believes in your potential to thrive.

Why does he find himself standing in front of your city home, heart pounding against his ribcage like a caged bird? He knocks, and when the door swings open, you greet him with a mix of surprise and puzzlement, yet your smile, soft and tender, ignites a wildfire of hope in his chest.

“Jimin?” Your voice carries a blend of curiosity and caution, eyes darting around to confirm his identity, a flicker of uncertainty dancing in their depths.

“Hey,” he greets you with a hint of shyness, his voice slightly uneven as if your mere presence has the power to stir up a whirlwind of emotions within him. You have this uncanny ability to make his heart flutter and his nerves dance, rendering him almost breathless in your presence.

“Come in,” you invite, and as he steps across the threshold, his senses are immediately greeted by the cozy compact hallway, each corner whispering tales of your daily life within the confines of your two-bedroom apartment.

“What brings you here, Jimin?” You inquire, your eyes sparkling with curiosity and a hint of anticipation, inviting him to share the purpose of his unexpected visit. His heart races with the weight of unspoken words, debating whether to reveal the depth of his feelings, to confess how much he misses you and yearns for your return. Yet, he hesitates, fearing that such raw honesty might overwhelm you, opting instead to tread lightly into the depths of the conversation.

“I came here because there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he starts, his gaze wandering around your apartment. An easel catches his eye, displaying a painting in the corner. He hadn’t realized you painted. Memories of your childhood passion for art resurface, but he hadn’t expected you to continue. Your dedication surprises and impresses him. As he admires the artwork, he can’t help but think how much it reflects your beauty and depth, a reflection of the intricate layers of your soul.

“You mentioned wanting to talk?” You inquire, drawing his attention away from your paintings. There’s a hint of curiosity in your voice, and he notices the way your eyes search his face, as if trying to decipher his thoughts. He feels a sudden rush of nerves, realizing the weight of the conversation he’s about to embark upon.

“Sure, let’s go to a cafe and have that talk,” he proposes, a spark of anticipation igniting in his eyes, his heart quickening with the prospect of finally opening up to you.

You suggest heading to a nearby café, and he readily agrees, the anticipation building as you walk the short distance together. Your demeanor betrays a hint of anxiety, and he can’t blame you—after all, he did show up unannounced, eager to talk. Arriving at the café, you both place your orders, and Jimin can feel the nervous energy coursing through him at the thought of opening up to you. But as he steals glances at your radiant smile, he knows he needs to gather his thoughts and make this moment count.

As you dig into your chocolate cake, you turn to him with a curious glint in your eyes. “So, what’s on your mind?” you inquire, your voice carrying a mix of anticipation and intrigue.

He can’t help but chuckle nervously, a subtle tremor in his voice betraying his unease as his hand moves to shield his smile. “It’s about you actually,” he confesses, his gaze lingering on you, as if searching for the right words to convey the weight of his thoughts.

He watches intently as your eyes widen, your lips parting in shock. “Me?” You echo softly, the word hanging in the air, laced with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

He feels his heart quicken its pace, his palms moistening with nervousness. “We miss you,” he admits, his voice a blend of longing and reluctance. Jimin knows he shouldn’t reveal too much, shouldn’t tell you how much he misses you. Yeah, the other’s miss you too and your sister actually regrets how she had been treating you. The words are close to spill out anyway. He can’t help it. Your puzzled expression prompts him to elaborate, “Everybody back home.”

The words sting him like a slap in the face. “That place isn’t my home anymore,” you declare, and each syllable feels like a dagger to his heart. He knows deep down that your old home could be your sanctuary once more, if only you’d give it another chance.

“It could be,” he responds softly, his words laden with unspoken longing. He wrestles with the urge to confess how much he aches for your presence, but he reins it in, wary of overwhelming you. Yet, glimpsing your paintings in your apartment, he discerns a silent yearning for the ranch.

“Everybody misses you, even your sister,” he adds, hoping to bridge the chasm between your worlds.

You scoff at that notion, momentarily entertaining the idea that your sister orchestrated his visit. He almost finds it amusing. Sure, Jessi might regret her actions, but her pride likely won’t allow her to apologize. He came here of his own volition, driven solely by his feelings for you. And as he gauges your response, he wonders if your sentiments mirror his own. He longs for certainty before taking the next step, eager to discern if your heart echoes his.

You spend the remaining time engaged in conversation about his heartfelt conviction that you belong on the ranch. He earnestly endeavors to sway your decision, silently yearning for your return—not just to the land, but to him. Yet, he hesitates to voice these sentiments, aware of the weight they carry. It pains him to witness your despondency, your yearning for the solace of a home—a comfort he believes he could offer, if only you desired it. Eventually, you concede to mull over the prospect of returning, a small glimmer of hope that lifts his spirits.

He’s reluctant for the day to draw to a close, even after both of you have polished off your cakes. So, he proposes a shopping excursion, and as you amble down the bustling street, he revels in the simple joy of your company. Witnessing you try on various dresses fills him with delight, but it’s the moment you find one that makes you radiate with confidence that truly captivates him. As you stand before the mirror, the dress hugging your curves in all the right places, he’s struck by the desire to gift it to you. Your surprised reaction to his offer, accompanied by a blush that tinges your cheeks, only serves to further enchant him.

As you return to your apartment and settle in to order food, Jimin realizes he’s extending his stay beyond his initial intentions. He’s wary of overstaying his welcome, yet he finds himself relishing every moment spent in your presence. Together, you indulge in a satisfying meal, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. With appetites sated, you delve into a conversation that spans the years since you departed from the ranch. Each shared anecdote and exchanged experience bridges the gap of time, weaving a tapestry of shared memories and newfound connection.

As he opens up to you, Jimin shares the tumultuous story of his family, particularly focusing on his father’s betrayal and subsequent remarriage shortly after his mother's passing. Recounting these painful memories is a struggle for him, as he harbors deep-seated resentment, especially towards his father for his infidelity. To Jimin, loyalty is paramount, and the thought of betraying a loved one is unfathomable. He reflects on the challenging dynamic with Jungkook, his stepbrother thrust into his life against his wishes. Initially resistant to the idea of a new sibling, Jimin grappled with conflicting emotions, navigating the complexities of familial relationships with grit and resilience.

He notices your curious gaze, fixated on the subtle limp in his stride, a constant reminder of a past he’d rather forget. Jimin understands the unspoken question lingering in your eyes, the same one that everyone seems eager to ask about. It’s a topic he loathes discussing—the limp, the accident, and the haunting scar etched into his flesh. Yet, he opens up to you, albeit selectively, glossing over certain details. He shields you from the raw emotions that still cling to the memories, like the overwhelming fear that consumed him in the aftermath, or the excruciating pain that once threatened to steal his mobility forever. Despite the physical healing, the pain persists, a relentless echo of the trauma that reshaped his life.

As if drawn by an invisible force, your hand ventures to his thigh, your touch igniting a cascade of sensations that electrify his senses. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through him, coaxing his heart into a frantic rhythm matched only by the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind. His body responds eagerly to your touch, craving more, yearning for the warmth of your hand in places where desire simmers just beneath the surface. Jimin knows he shouldn’t entertain these forbidden thoughts, but the allure of your touch is intoxicating, tempting him into a realm of pleasure he’s desperate to explore. With each passing moment, your hand inches closer to his dick, and he's powerless to resist the magnetic pull drawing him toward the world of lust.

“Is this okay?” Your gentle inquiry sends a surge of electricity through the air, and Jimin feels a wave of apprehension wash over him. He’s caught between the desire to surrender to the intoxicating allure of your touch and the fear of crossing a line he might not be able to uncross. Yet, despite the tumult of emotions raging within him, he manages to croak out a strained “yes,” his voice betraying the depth of his longing and the intensity of his arousal.

God damn it, he curses inwardly as a surge of desire courses through him, causing his body to react involuntarily. He shifts uncomfortably, prompting your hand to retreat apologetically as you murmur, “I’m sorry.”

He reassures you with a strained “it’s okay,” but inside, he’s reeling from the lingering sensation of your touch. Your hands had worked wonders, but it’s not just the massage that’s setting him alight; it’s the mere contact with you, igniting a dangerous blaze of desire within him.

He’s acutely aware of the charged atmosphere between you, a palpable tension that threatens to unravel with every passing moment. Seeking respite, you suggest watching a movie, and he agrees, grateful for the distraction. As the film unfolds, he finds himself more captivated by the way your eyelids flutter and eventually succumb to sleep, your head gently resting against his chest. With tender care, he brushes away the stray strands of hair that caress your face, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of you in such peaceful repose. He realizes, in that moment, the depth of his feelings for you—love, pure and unadulterated. Yet, the weight of uncertainty presses upon him like a heavy burden. Should he confess his love, risking the fragile bond of friendship that now exists between you both? Or should he continue to cherish these stolen moments, content in the knowledge that you’re by his side, even if only as friends?

“I love you,” he murmurs softly, the words slipping from his lips like a secret confession, a whispered promise to the sleeping form nestled against him. In the hushed stillness of the room, he finds solace in the act of vocalizing his feelings, the weight of his emotions easing with each syllable uttered. Though he knows you’re unaware of his declaration in your slumber, he takes comfort in the notion that the words hang in the air, a silent testament to the depth of his affection for you. Yet, as the echoes of his confession fade into the night, he realizes that his journey towards vocalizing his love has only just begun—a journey he’s determined to embark upon, armed with nothing but his unwavering devotion and the courage to speak his heart when you’re awake, ready to hear his words.

He hadn’t intended on staying the night, but your gentle slumber on his lap had rooted him in place. He couldn’t bear to disrupt your peaceful rest, and truth be told, he relished the sensation of your weight against him. He couldn’t recall when your head had found its way to his thighs, but the warmth of your presence was a comfort he couldn’t deny. However, the unwelcome arousal pressing against his jeans was a stark reminder of his body’s betraying response to your innocent proximity. Your soft murmurs and endearing sighs had stirred something primal within him, leaving him unable to conceal the undeniable evidence of his desire.

“Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, scrambling to sit upright, cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. He can't help but chuckle at your flustered reaction, finding your genuine concern endearing.

“It’s okay. I just woke up,” he assures, though it’s not entirely true. He’s been awake for a few moments, captivated by the peaceful sight of you sleeping. Is it a bit creepy? Perhaps. But at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

You end up apologizing profusely for inadvertently resting on his injured leg, but he reassures you, insisting it didn’t hurt much. Suddenly, you offer to whip up some pancakes, and the idea sounds heavenly to him. He realizes how hungry he is, so the prospect of food is more than welcome.

He realizes he should head back home soon. Yesterday, he left without a word to his brother, and he certainly didn’t mention staying the night elsewhere. Jungkook might be in a panic by now, given the flurry of missed calls on his phone. Oops.

The pancakes you’ve whipped up are simply divine, and for a fleeting moment, he entertains the idea of staying here with you indefinitely. But reality pulls him back to the ranch, his responsibilities tugging at his heartstrings. Deep down, he yearns for you to join him there, to make the place feel complete once more. Yet, he knows he can’t impose such a request on you. Your decision to return must stem from your own desires. As the time draws near for his departure, he lingers a bit longer, subtly conveying how much he’ll miss you if you choose not to come back.

“I hope to see you again, maybe back home?” His gaze lingers on you, a silent plea echoing in his eyes. In that suspended moment, he senses a subtle transformation within you, a shift in the air that ignites a blush on your cheeks. And in that shared vulnerability, he feels his own heart quicken its pace, a silent testament to the magnetic pull you exert on him with each passing moment.

As you remain silent, he gathers his courage, emboldened by the delicate flush on your cheeks. Closing the gap between you, he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. A playful grin tugs at his lips, betraying the nervous flutter in his chest; he can feel the warmth rising to his cheeks, but he couldn’t resist the urge to express his longing in that fleeting touch.

“See you at home,” he whispers, the words carrying a weight of anticipation as he descends the stairs. His heart thunders in his chest, a symphony of excitement and nerves that threaten to overwhelm him. Despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins, a wide grin splits his face, a telltale sign of the emotions bubbling within him. In that moment, he feels like a fool — a foolish, lovesick fool.

You’ve returned, and it’s like a missing piece of his world has finally clicked back into place. Since his visit to the city, everything between you seems to hum with a new energy, a subtle shift that he can’t ignore. The air crackles with anticipation, and he can’t help but notice the lingering glances, the charged moments that pass between you. He senses the attraction growing, weaving its way between you like a delicate thread. Perhaps it’s time to take the next step, to ask you out on a proper date. But first, there’s the matter of moving your belongings from the city back to the ranch, a task he embraces eagerly, knowing it’s a chance to be by your side once more.

He chuckles at the sight of neatly packed boxes, already lined up and ready to go. He had braced himself for a lengthy packing session, but you’ve surprised him with your efficiency. With everything neatly organized, the task ahead seems much simpler. Now, all that’s left is to lift and load the boxes onto the truck and trailer, and you’ll be ready to roll.

Despite the weight of the boxes and the growing ache in his leg, he soldiers on without complaint. He refuses to let you see the strain he’s under, determined to make this transition as smooth as possible for you. Together, you lift and carry furniture, ensuring that nothing is left behind. Finally, you slide the key into the landlord’s mailbox, marking the end of an era and the beginning of a new chapter.

As you navigate the road back home, he catches your gaze drifting to his leg, a subtle twitch betraying the discomfort he’s trying to conceal. Despite his efforts to mask the pain, he can tell you’ve seen through his facade.

“Does your leg hurt?” Your concern is palpable in the gentle tone of your voice. He hesitates, debating whether to offer a reassuring lie or admit to the discomfort gnawing at him. Ultimately, honesty wins out. “Yeah, a bit,” he confesses, unable to shield you from the truth.

Your hand ventures across the center console, landing on his thigh with a gentle, reassuring pressure that sends a jolt through him. As your fingers begin to work their magic, tracing soothing circles over his tense muscles, he feels his defenses weakening. Like an inferno ignited, desire surges within him, rendering him powerless to resist. A soft moan slips past his lips, betraying the overwhelming effect of your touch, and he knows he’s in trouble, especially while navigating the road ahead.

His mind is a whirlwind of forbidden desires, each touch of your hand stoking the flames of his longing. With every inch your hand inches closer, his body responds eagerly, aching for your touch. Yet, amidst the overwhelming urge, a voice of reason echoes in his mind, reminding him of the danger of indulging in such desires while driving. Despite the throbbing need coursing through him, he fights to suppress his carnal urges, knowing that some pleasures are too risky to pursue in the heat of the moment.

“Please stop,” his voice, a blend of desire and restraint, breaks the tension-filled silence, pleading for respite from the intoxicating allure of your touch. As your hand halts its tantalizing caress on his thigh, a palpable tension hangs in the air, his body yearning for the forbidden pleasure yet tempered by the awareness of the dangers lurking on the road ahead.

“I might lose focus on the road if you keep that up,” he confesses, his tone laced with a blend of restraint and longing, revealing the precarious balance between desire and responsibility. With each passing moment, the tantalizing temptation grows stronger, stirring a primal urge within him. For a fleeting instant, he entertains the reckless notion of pulling over, and just fucking you, like he really wants to do.

Jimin is rendered speechless as you glide through the doors, clad in the dress he picked out for you. The sight of you steals his breath away, igniting a fire within him that he struggles to contain. Your radiant smile lights up the room, and as your eyes meet his, it’s as if the world fades away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in an electric moment.

You take in the surroundings of the house, every detail seemingly more enchanting with Jimin by your side. As he gracefully pulls you into a slow dance, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in a timeless embrace. The warmth of his hand in yours and the genuine smile on your face envelop him in a sense of serenity, and for a moment, he’s lost in the beauty of the moment, captivated by the sight of you.

You sway together in the gentle rhythm of the music, but beneath the surface, a tempest of emotions rages within Jimin. With every step, he feels the magnetic pull towards you intensify, igniting a wildfire of desire that threatens to consume him whole. The urge to whisk you away upstairs, to pour out his heart, to share every secret and desire, is almost overpowering. Yet, in the midst of this intoxicating whirlwind, fear gnaws at him. This unbridled attraction, so fierce and undeniable, terrifies him in its intensity, for it’s unlike anything he's ever experienced before, and it’s already reshaping the very fabric of his emotions.

As his brother, Jungkook, sweeps in to ask you for a dance, Jimin’s eyes roll with a mix of amusement and mild annoyance. Reluctantly, he steps aside, letting you be whisked away into the arms of his sibling, though a flicker of jealousy ignites in his chest. As you twirl away with Jungkook, Jimin can’t help but feel a pang of insecurity, wondering if he’s made a mistake by relinquishing your presence, even if only for a dance.

Meanwhile, Jimin gracefully makes his way to the piano, a glint of determination in his eyes. He settles onto the bench, his fingers poised over the keys with a mixture of nerves and excitement. With a soft, thoughtful expression, he adjusts the volume of the music, letting the melody fill the room with a gentle ambiance. As he begins to play, his heart pours into the music, each note resonating with a depth of emotion that only he can truly understand. With a voice rich with sincerity, he sings a love song, his eyes flickering over to where you stand, hoping that you’ll appreciate the gesture.

In the midst of the music, Jimin wrestles with his own conflicting emotions. He knows he should muster the courage to express his feelings directly to you, to tell you that he’s head over heels in love. Yet, fear grips him, the fear of rejection, of vulnerability. Despite the undeniable connection he feels between you, he hesitates, unsure of how you’ll respond.

Instead, he lets the melody speak for him, allowing the heartfelt lyrics to convey the depth of his affection. With each tender note, he silently hopes that you’ll understand the message hidden within the music, the silent plea for your reciprocation.

Your expression betrays a mixture of surprise and curiosity as Jimin finishes his serenade. Without a word, he rises from the piano bench, his hand outstretched towards you, a silent invitation in his gaze. “Please, come with me,” he implores softly, his voice laced with an urgency that belies the calm exterior he tries to maintain. With a gentle yet firm grasp, he leads you towards the door, a sense of purpose driving his movements.

As he leads you outside, Jimin can feel the weight of anticipation hanging heavy in the air. This could be the moment, he thinks, the moment he finally lays his heart bare before you. Or perhaps he should start with something simpler, like asking you out on a date. But with every step that brings you closer to the secluded spot he has in mind, his mind races with a whirlwind of emotions, leaving him uncertain of where to begin.

Now, with the night sky stretching out above you and the soft glow of moonlight casting shadows across your face, he finds himself unable to resist the pull of desire. With a sudden surge of courage, he pins you against the wall, his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt.

His mind races like a speeding train, thoughts colliding and scattering in all directions, leaving him grasping for a coherent sentence. “Brothers talk,” he blurts out, cursing himself inwardly the instant the words leave his lips. Jungkook’s words about you after that night echo in his mind, a bitter reminder of a conversation he never wanted to have— he didn’t like hearing his brother talk about you like that. He wishes desperately to erase those words from his memory, to banish them to the darkest corners of his mind, but they linger like a stubborn stain, impossible to scrub away.

“I know you slept with Jungkook,” he murmurs into your ear, feeling the slight tremor that runs through your body. The tension crackles between you, a silent dialogue of unspoken words and hidden desires. He prays silently that you don’t harbor any strange fascination with brothers, because if you do, you’re in for disappointment. That’s not his thing.

“And I don’t mind. I like you,” he confesses, his words tinged with a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity. Despite the discomfort of knowing about your past with his brother, he’s willing to look beyond it because his feelings for you outweigh any resentment. The image of you being reduced to a mere conquest by Jungkook leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but he’s determined to move past it for the sake of what he feels for you.

“I like you too, Jimin,” you confess, and the weight of those words sends a surge of excitement through him. Finally, the confirmation he’s been yearning for, the green light to express what’s been building inside him for weeks. As he leans in to kiss you, anticipation electrifying the air, the door beside you swings open, and out steps his brother, wearing that infuriating grin. Damn it, Jungkook always manages to ruin the moment, the ultimate cock blocker.

You’ve been putting in long hours at the ranch alongside Yoongi, and he’s observed how effortlessly you’ve adapted to the work. He doesn’t mind the time you spend with Yoongi; after all, cultivating friendships here is important, and he’s glad to see you forming bonds in your new environment.

As he makes his way over to where you’re taming the wild horses, Jimin feels a surge of confidence coursing through him. Today feels like the right moment to finally muster the courage and ask you out on that long-awaited date.

He approaches, anticipation bubbling within him, but Jimin’s heart sinks like a stone at the sight before him. His steps falter as he witnesses your lips meeting Yoongi’s in an unexpected embrace. Shock and hurt intertwine within him, shattering the fragile hope he held of something blossoming between you both. It’s a painful echo of the moment he caught you with his brother, a wound reopened. With a heavy heart, he silently retreats, the weight of disappointment pulling him away.

Caught in the whirlwind of emotions, Jimin did notice the shock etched on your features. But confusion battles with hurt within him, a tumultuous storm raging in his heart. Was it betrayal he saw in your eyes? Or was it simply his own shattered illusions playing tricks on him? The thought gnaws at him—had you been toying with his feelings all along? 

The memory of you with his brother burns like a brand, leaving him grappling with a cocktail of emotions, unable to discern truth from illusion. 

You fucked his brother, maybe you want to fuck Yoongi too?

Though he hears your hurried footsteps behind him, he refuses to turn back, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. Anger simmers within him, intertwined with a thread of sorrow, a tumult of emotions threatening to consume him. Frustration gnaws at him — frustration at you, frustration at himself for allowing himself to fall under your spell. For he realizes now, with painful clarity, that you hold the power to shatter his heart. And he can’t bear the thought of enduring such agony. It’s a bitter realization, but he knows he must protect himself. It’s better to walk away now, before the pain deepens any further.

“Jimin!” Your voice echoes urgently behind him, but he’s already near the door, his resolve hardening with each step. Maybe he can simply shut you out, ignore whatever explanation you might offer. He doesn’t want to entertain the possibility of hearing you out, even as you grasp his arm, pleading, “Jimin, it’s not what it seems—I need to explain!”

He doesn’t want to hear it. There’s a strange ringing in his ears, drowning out your words. It’s as if his mind is adrift in a sea of chaos, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Anger simmers beneath the surface, a volatile brew threatening to boil over. With a clenched jaw, he turns to face you. “You kissed Yoongi.” The words cut through the deafening silence like a knife, sharp and accusatory.

“No, I didn’t! He kissed me, and I didn’t want that. It meant nothing, okay?” Your words pierce through the heavy silence, but he’s not sure if he wants to believe them. He’s built a fortress around his heart, shielding it from any more pain. Watching you with his brother was hard enough, and now this? It’s not just the kiss itself that bothers him; it’s the unsettling feeling that you might be interested in anyone but him.

Since that kiss with Yoongi, he’s been nursing a hurt that gnaws at him relentlessly. Though he’s avoided speaking to you, he’s watched from a distance. Your once vibrant spirit now wears a cloak of sadness, but in Yoongi’s presence, you light up. It’s a comfort to see you finding solace, yet a pang of envy grips him. Watching you two together twists something deep inside him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Amidst the ache in his heart, he’s found himself seeking solace in familiar connections, even replying to texts from his former physiotherapist, Deiji.

Despite the gnawing guilt, he finds himself unable to bridge the growing chasm between you. The pain of witnessing your closeness with Yoongi ignites a jealousy that eclipses all rational thought. It’s not just about liking or loving you anymore; it’s about the exhausting cycle of feeling perpetually overlooked. He’s tired of being picked last.

Perhaps that’s why he extended the invitation to Deiji, fully aware that you and Yoongi would be there. In his mind, it’s a feeble attempt to feign indifference, a facade of moving on. He’s well aware of the pettiness of his actions, yet he’s powerless against the torrent of bitterness coursing through his veins.

He catches the glimmer of sadness in your eyes as they meet his across the bar, and a pang of unease twists in his stomach, a blend of hurt and confusion. He’s at a loss to comprehend why your gaze holds such sorrow when you’re evidently entwined with Yoongi. The sight of him enveloping you, a shield against the world, ignites a storm of resentment in Jimin’s gut.

Despite being officially with Deiji, a decision he’s uncertain about and made more out of a sense of emptiness than genuine interest, Jimin finds himself questioning his own actions. He doesn’t understand why he acquiesced when she asked to make things official; perhaps it was the notion that having someone, anyone, was better than facing the void alone. But the truth is, he doesn’t harbor strong feelings for Deiji. Aware of the wrongness of the situation, Jimin feels a gnawing guilt deep within him, a sense of moral turmoil that he can’t shake off. 

And with every stolen glance in your direction, a reminder of his divided attention, he's torn between appeasing Deiji and grappling with the realization of what he truly desires.

Each day, you faithfully show up for work, your presence a constant in the familiar routine of taming the wild horses alongside Yoongi. Yet, with every shared moment you spend with him, Jimin can’t help but feel a surge of spite and jealousy coursing through him. Despite his best efforts to suppress it, the sight of you engrossed in your tasks, your laughter echoing in the stables, stirs up a tempest of conflicting emotions within him. It’s true, you appear happy, your smiles lighting up the barn, but beneath the surface, Jimin senses a lingering sadness, a hidden ache that eludes his understanding.

Even amidst the swirling chaos of his emotions, Jimin finds himself unable to muster the courage to speak to you. The turmoil within him is relentless, leaving him uncertain if he even wants to engage in conversation with you anymore. His feelings are a tangled web of confusion, rendering him utterly lost within himself. It’s as if he’s been thrown into a storm of his own making, unable to find solid ground amidst the tempest of his conflicted heart.

Even his own brother, in a rare moment of clarity, has acknowledged the messiness of the situation and urged him to confront it. Yet, Jimin finds himself grappling with the futility of such a conversation. What words could possibly bridge the chasm between you when you’re with Yoongi and he’s with Deiji? It’s a tangled web of relationships, each strand pulling them further apart with every passing moment.

Recently, Jimin has found himself consumed by jealousy, a venomous emotion that twists his thoughts and clouds his every interaction. He’s engulfed by an unrelenting anger — directed at you, at himself, at the cruel hand fate has dealt. Walking about with a perpetual scowl, he broods in silence, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of longing and resentment. Forced to collaborate with you by Jungkook, he remains mute, the weight of unspoken words suffocating him. Jimin, once eager to engage, now fears the irreparable chasm that has formed between you, the inevitable drift driving a wedge deeper with each passing day.

For reasons unbeknownst to him, your sister insists on throwing a party to mark the cast coming off. This entails a dinner, an event Jimin dreads. The thought of facing you, knowing Yoongi will also be present, fills him with apprehension. It’s been weeks, perhaps even months, since he’s exchanged a word with either of you, and the prospect of reconnecting amidst the festivity feels daunting.

He’s been avoiding you for what feels like forever, yet here he is, standing in your house with his girlfriend, desperately trying to hide the turmoil churning inside him. It’s not a physical demise, he knows he’s being overly dramatic, but the emotional anguish feels suffocating, overwhelming every inch of his being.

He stands there, silently seething as he watches Yoongi envelope you in his arms, whispering about how much he’s missed you. Anger courses through him like a torrent, mixing with a bitter taste of something unpalatable, leaving him with a nauseating sensation, as if he could vomit at any moment.

He averts his gaze, sensing the sudden fury emanating from you, though the reason eludes him. Desperately, he attempts to divert his attention to Deiji, but it’s futile; he can’t shake the feeling of longing for you, despite the turmoil raging within him. Every glance towards you is a reminder of the pain of seeing you with Yoongi, of his own inadequacy to confront or resolve the situation. He feels trapped in a cycle of longing and self-loathing, unable to break free from the grip of his own childishness.

You glide into the charity gala, a vision of elegance and grace that steals his breath away. He shouldn’t be captivated by you, shouldn’t be allowing his gaze to linger when he should be focusing on his date. Yet, Deiji’s waning interest in him is palpable, a silent testament to the growing chasm between them. He knows their relationship is crumbling, and he can’t blame her for growing weary of his constant pining for someone else. The truth is, he was never truly invested in Deiji; she was merely a placeholder, a feeble attempt to fill the void left by your unattainability. Now, as he watches you from across the room, radiant and out of reach, he realizes the magnitude of his mistake.

Despite dancing with his girlfriend, his eyes are drawn irresistibly to you, tracing every step you take as you glide across the dance floor with Hoseok, then Yoongi. Each moment is like a dagger to his heart, yet he can’t tear his gaze away. It’s masochistic, really, subjecting himself to the exquisite agony of watching you in Yoongi’s embrace, but he’s transfixed, unable to look away.

Without warning, your expression morphs into one of raw anger, fury emanating from every pore as you stride purposefully towards him. Your voice, sharp and cutting, pierces through the music as you demand, “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?”

Startled and taken aback, his heart skips a beat as your sudden outburst catches him off guard. Beneath the surprise, a tinge of sadness tugs at his heartstrings. He realizes he shouldn’t be so transfixed on you, yet despite his best efforts, he finds himself unable to tear his gaze away.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” Your words cut through him like a knife, and the accusation stings. He feels a knot of sadness twist in his stomach, grappling with confusion as to why you've suddenly turned hostile.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” Your voice crescendos, cutting through the air like a sharp blade. Jimin feels a pang of shame, wanting to shrink away from your justified anger. You’re hitting too close to home—he knows he should have approached you like a mature adult.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab a finger in Deiji’s direction, her displeasure evident, but Jimin can’t muster any concern for her feelings. His heart thuds erratically, a tumult of emotions swirling inside him, each one adding to the chaos. He knows you’re right, and it cuts him deeper than he’d like to admit—yeah, he’s a coward.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You unleash your frustration at him, each word a sharp jab, and he flinches involuntarily. Deep down, he knows you’re right, but the weight of the misunderstanding presses heavily on his shoulders. He just doesn’t understand the situation. Yoongi steps in beside you, attempting to diffuse the tension, but Jimin feels his heart plummet to the floor nonetheless.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” You unleash a torrent of emotions, your words cutting through the air like knives, and his eyes widen in shock. His heart races erratically, his confusion mirroring yours. Why would you confess your love for him while Yoongi stands right beside you? It’s madness, and he feels like he’s drowning in a sea of uncertainty and conflicting emotions.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you spit out, catching him off guard once more. Despite the tension, he can’t help but burst into laughter. It’s wrong, he knows, but there’s something absurdly amusing about the situation. As you glare at him, he can’t shake the thought that you look oddly cute when you’re angry.

“Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!” You stamp on the ground, your frustration palpable. Jimin feels a surge of conflicting emotions, his laughter fading as he clings to the weight of your confession. What does this mean? He longs to ask you why you’re unloading on him, but you refuse to let him get a word in edgewise.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” With a sharp spin, you pivot away, leaving Jimin in a whirlwind of confusion. Desperate to understand your sudden eruption, he reaches out, his hand grasping for an explanation amidst the chaos.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” With fire in your eyes, you unleash the words directly into his face before storming out, leaving Jimin to face the fallout of your wrath. As the tension thickens in the air, all eyes turn to him, conveying their disapproval like daggers. Even Jimin finds himself grappling with the weight of his actions, acutely aware of the discord he’s sown.

Yoongi strides up to him, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “You know you’re a real dick right?”

Jimin’s jaw drops, the shock of Yoongi’s words reverberating through him like a sudden bolt of lightning. Never before has he witnessed this side of Yoongi, and the revelation leaves him utterly stunned, his mind reeling with disbelief.

“Why don’t you scuttle off to your precious girlfriend?” Jimin’s words slice through the air like venom, his anger bubbling to the surface with an intensity that threatens to consume him entirely.

Yoongi scoffs incredulously, “Girlfriend?” His steps carry him closer to Jimin, his voice dripping with a mix of disbelief and frustration. “You really think she’s my girlfriend, huh? Is that what’s been fueling your jerkish behavior?”

Jimin’s lips part, ready to offer a retort, but before he can utter a word, Yoongi closes the distance between them until their breaths mingle in the charged air. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he declares, his voice low and tinged with frustration, “I’m gay, you fucking idiot.”

Jimin’s eyes widen in disbelief as Yoongi’s words hang heavy in the air. Then, as Yoongi exits, a whirlwind of emotions sweeps through Jimin’s being, leaving him teetering between confusion and a surge of unexpected elation.

But hold on, that means that all this while he thought you were together with Yoongi, you were in fact mad at him? 

Fuck.

Deiji ended things with him, and he can’t blame her. He realizes now that he wasn’t truly invested in her or the relationship. In hindsight, it’s clear that it was the right decision for both of them.

He’s made an absolute mess of things, and now he’s left with the daunting task of picking up the shattered pieces and piecing them back together again.

He realizes the first step towards redemption is owning up to his missteps and extending genuine apologies for the havoc his actions have caused.

Your expression betrays confusion when he offers to aid in the search for Mikrokosmos, yet deep down, he yearns for the chance to finally unravel the tangled threads of misunderstanding between you. He carries the weight of knowing he should have initiated this conversation long before, but he’s here now, determined to mend what’s broken and bridge the chasm that’s formed between you.

He’s overwhelmed with gratitude as you lend him your ear, and when you extend an apology for your own actions—a gesture he feels unworthy of—he’s humbled. He recognizes he was the one in the wrong, and while he does offer his apologies, he feels they fall short of expressing the depth of his remorse. He struggles to find the words to convey just how profoundly sorry he is. In your presence, he’s painfully aware of his own shortcomings, yet he’s also grateful for the stark contrast of your unwavering kindness, a stark reminder of the person he aspires to be.

As you tenderly trace the lines of his scars with reverence, he feels something inside him fracture, but it’s not pain—it’s the barriers he’s built around his heart, crumbling in the face of your genuine affection. Never before has anyone shown such care and admiration for him in this intimate way. In that moment, his heart swells with a love so profound it threatens to overflow. In your presence, he finds a sense of completeness he’s never known before. Truly, you are the embodiment of sweetness and kindness, and he’s endlessly grateful to have you in his life.

He’s acutely aware that you deserve far better than him. In your unwavering sweetness and kindness, you shine as a beacon of light in his tumultuous world. Despite the countless times he’s put you through turmoil, you continue to stand by his side, unwavering in your commitment. A part of him struggles to comprehend why someone as remarkable as you would choose to be with someone as flawed as him. He can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t deserve a woman of your caliber.

As the blissful days turn into months and the connection between you deepens, it feels as though you’ve been together for a lifetime. It’s this profound sense of certainty that drives him to purchase a ring for you, a symbol of his unwavering devotion. From the depths of his childhood dreams, he’s always known, without a shadow of doubt, that you were the one meant for him.

Fucking hell.

Just when everything seems to be falling into place, Deiji unexpectedly resurfaces, bearing news that shatters the delicate balance of his newfound happiness—she’s pregnant. The weight of her revelation hits him like a ton of bricks, threatening to unravel the life he’s worked so hard to build. While she insists the child is his, he’s consumed by doubt, unable to find any concrete evidence to support her claim. Yet, in the midst of his turmoil, his gaze is drawn to you, and the anguish etched on your face speaks volumes. Despite the chaos swirling around him, he can’t ignore the palpable pain this situation is causing you.

He longs for the prospect of fatherhood, but the thought of having children with Deiji is a nightmare he can’t bear to entertain. If he were to embark on the journey of parenthood, he envisions it with you by his side. Yet, he’s keenly aware of your own hesitations or perhaps lack of desire for children, and he deeply respects your stance on the matter.

Damn, this just became a whole lot more complicated. But amidst the chaos, his resolve remains unwavering—he’s determined to be present for his child, and for you, no matter what. With every update Deiji shares, whether it’s pictures or ultrasounds of the baby, he makes a conscious effort to include you, recognizing the importance of keeping you informed and involved every step of the way.

However, he can’t help but notice the growing distance between you, and it’s a pain that cuts him to the core. The dilemma gnaws at him relentlessly—he’s torn between wanting to cherish both you and his impending child, yet he’s at a loss as to how to navigate the chasm that’s formed between you.

“I really think it’s best to break up,” you repeat, and he’s gripped by a suffocating sense of disbelief, as if trapped in a nightmare he desperately wishes to escape. How can you say this? The love he feels for you surges through him like a relentless tide, and the mere thought of breaking up is unbearable. Doesn’t your heart ache at the idea of leaving? Doesn’t love still reside within you?

“But I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he pleads with a raw desperation, his heart laid bare before you. Every fiber of his being is consumed by love for you. Can’t you see? Can’t you feel the weight of his devotion?

“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,” your voice cracks, and his heart shatters into a million fragments. Both of you are unwilling to part ways, yet he's come to recognize the toll his situation with his child has taken on you, perhaps far more than he initially comprehended. Ultimately, he realizes he can't compel you to remain by his side, even as the agony of separation tears him apart.

“If that’s truly what you want,” he says, his voice strained with emotion as he struggles to form the words, “then I... I understand.” Each syllable feels like a weight upon his chest, threatening to suffocate him as he resigns himself to the heartbreaking reality of your decision.

“It is,” you confirm with a heavy finality, and in that moment, his heart shatters into a million irreparable fragments, scattered across the floor like the remnants of a shattered dream as you walk away.

Ever since you broke up, a sickness gnaws at him, but he desperately clings to the impending arrival of his child as a beacon of hope. Yet, intertwined with the anticipation is a bitter realization—he’s lost you, and it leaves a repugnant taste lingering in his mouth. He never wanted to be forced into a choice, yet it seems he inadvertently prioritized his impending fatherhood over you, a decision that fills him with self-loathing. Deep down, all he truly yearns for is to be by your side once more.

Every time his gaze falls upon you, your face is etched with profound sadness, and he’s torn between offering you the solace of space or the comfort of his presence. Though you still exchange words sporadically, the connection you once shared feels like a distant memory, a mere echo of what once was.

The ache of missing you consumes him, a relentless longing that claws at his heart. He yearns for nothing more than to be reunited with you, to reclaim the bond you once shared. But the weight of the situation crushes him under its unbearable pressure. Should he forsake his child for the chance to have you back? The mere thought is agonizing, a cruel dilemma tearing him apart at the seams. He’s trapped in a labyrinth of pain, unable to discern a way out of the turmoil engulfing him.

Fuck.

Reflecting on the myriad mistakes he’s made sends a searing pain coursing through his heart, each misstep a haunting reminder of the turmoil he’s inflicted upon you. The weight of his transgressions feels crushing, almost unbearable, yet amidst the wreckage of his past, one truth remains steadfast—you loved him, despite it all. Perhaps you still do, but the uncertainty gnaws at him like a relentless beast. Yet, in the depths of his remorse, his love for you burns bright and unwavering. He’s determined to find a way to convey his unwavering desire to win back your love, to fight for the chance to make things right and rebuild what was once lost.

That’s precisely why tears cascade down onto the paper as he pours his heart out in the letter destined for you.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

🐴Chapter summary: Life on the ranch is hard and you keep fucking everything up with stupid mistakes.  🐴Chapter title: It's a Long Road 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: mention of past character death (parents) 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 9.1k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog @kiki-zb @babejinnie @ownthesunshine @allie-is-a-panda @glllhjh @bergandysam @13-manggaetteok

*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 💿 “Common Ground” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note (1): I really enjoy writing this so far. But this idea has been stuck in my head for months, so it feels wonderful to finally get it out! I’m still not sure if anyone would read this– but it’s already a gem to me. Thank you for reading!

There’s a scene in here that my lovely and wonderful friend @letjungcoook7 give me the idea to (it has something to do with clothes 🤭). Thank you so much for that Lua, I think it added some more fun to it ✨

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

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

“Common ground, find common ground It is out there, it can be found Many chances, many ways Common ground, the road is laid”  - Common Ground by Rebecca Lavelle

Your original plan was to leave… But reality has a way of unraveling even the best-laid plans. Now, here you are, a week after that steamy romp with Jungkook, still in need of Jessi's elusive signature.

Surviving on the ranch proves challenging, and while your farming skills leave much to be desired, strangely, they seem to bring a spark to Jessi's mood. Amidst the hardships, you're learning to cut yourself some slack.

Calling in a favor from a city friend, a bundle of your wardrobe arrives at the ranch, despite the fact that most of your outfits are far from farm-friendly. However, you find solace in the timeless pairing of jeans and shirts—pieces that work in any setting.

However, when it comes to footwear, you find yourself lacking the rugged, durable boots that the others sport. Your feet continue to be clad in sneakers, a clear misfit in this sea of robust workwear. Despite the glaring contrast, the idea of venturing to a store to purchase a pair is pushed aside; after all, you'll be returning home soon, won't you?

As you strive to lend a hand around the ranch, the sense of being more of a hindrance than assistance creeps in, casting a shadow on your enthusiasm. It's disheartening, but you persevere, masking your frustration with a determined smile. 

The blueprint to win Jessi's favor unfolds gradually. Tempted by the notion of pestering her into signing the paper, a more rebellious approach, you ponder the likely outcome – perhaps just another swift dismissal. 

Thus, opting for a strategic route, you resolve to stay, contribute, and gradually earn your place in her good graces.

Yet, reality proves to be more intricate than anticipated. Earning Jessi's trust unfolds as a formidable challenge. Fortunately, the camaraderie with the girls injects a daily dose of humor, infusing a much-needed levity into the demanding rigors of ranch life. Their presence becomes a driving force, propelling you through the grueling tasks with shared laughter and a sense of solidarity.

But that thing with Jungkook and Jimin? 

It’s a perplexing puzzle that haunts your thoughts. Grateful for the absence of both men since that eventful barn party, you find yourself at a loss. Jimin's wounded expression lingers in your mind; his unexpected hurt leaves you questioning the depth of his emotions. 

Why does it matter to him so much, and what, if anything, should you do about it?

Jungkook's reputation as a flirtatious charmer precedes him—undeniably a heartbreaker and a fuckboy. The logical part of you suggests steering clear of him altogether, yet you can't deny the undeniable truth—he delivered an unforgettable night that still lingers in your memory.

Jimin's piercing gaze remains etched in the recesses of your thoughts, tempting you to unravel the mystery behind his somber expression. A nagging curiosity creeps in—was it solely witnessing you with his brother, or does it delve into uncharted territories? 

Frustration mounts as you find yourself pondering over these unresolved questions, all while diligently shoveling manure in the dim-lit barn.

The relentless echo of Jimin's haunting gaze has dominated your thoughts throughout the week, a relentless presence that might easily dissipate with a simple conversation. Yet, the prospect of confronting those melancholic, deep brown eyes sends shivers down your spine, and your stomach churns with trepidation each time the memory of his gaze resurfaces.

You know you shouldn't dwell on thoughts of the Park brothers, especially after learning the intricacies of their familial ties. The revelation that they are half-brothers, sharing the same father, doesn't diminish the complexity of their relationship. They are still bound by blood, and the complications of their connection linger in your mind, tempting you into a web of contemplation you desperately try to escape.

You're drawn from your thoughts by the gentle whinny of a horse, and as you glance up, you're captivated by the majestic creature in its stall. 

While your knowledge of horses is limited, the rugged breed before you exudes a unique beauty, its pristine white coat and matching mane captivates you.

Memories of your childhood flood back when you used to ride horses on this very ranch. The nostalgic recollections evoke a sense of longing. However, the prospect of mounting a horse now appears somewhat daunting; these majestic creatures seem even more substantial and imposing as an adult.

Soo-ah's words echo in your mind, urging you to reclaim the reins and saddle up if you truly wish to contribute on the ranch. 

Contemplating the idea, you sense a growing determination within, a readiness to embrace the challenge and reconnect with the equestrian world you left behind.

Jessi's voice cuts through the rhythmic clatter of your stall-cleaning routine, a sudden burst of urgency that startles you. She barrels into the barn with a sense of urgency, proclaiming, “Hey! We've got to head to Park's ranch!” 

The abrupt interruption leaves you momentarily shaken from your chores.

Your shoulders slump as you mope and question, “Now?” 

The unfinished tasks nag at you, a testament to the never-ending workload on the ranch. The sense of wanting to complete your current chore before diving into the next one hangs heavy in your voice, and the realization dawns on you that the work on a ranch is an ever-flowing river, each completed task replaced by another in an endless stream.

“Yes, come on!” Her enthusiastic insistence echoes through the barn, and with a determined grunt, she secures a saddle and snatches up a bridle, cradling them with purpose under her arm. 

As you set the shovel aside, your eyes widen in disbelief. “Aren't we taking the car?” you inquire, puzzled by the sudden need for saddles and bridles, questioning the unconventional choice of transportation for this mysterious journey to Park's ranch.

Her response is resolute, accompanied by a hint of laughter underlying her words. “No. The horses are just as fast,” she asserts, the firmness in her voice accompanied by a playful chuckle, revealing her persistent agenda to get you back in the saddle since the day you committed to assisting on the ranch. You can almost visualize the sly curve of her smile.

Shivers of both excitement and nervousness run down your spine. It's happening – you're about to mount a horse for the first time since childhood. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. Yes, you're ready. Absolutely ready!

Jessi swings open the stall door, revealing the majestic white horse inside. 

She affectionately pats its head, and it responds with a gentle whinny, as if appreciating the attention. With practiced ease, she adorns the horse with a saddle and bridle. 

Stepping out with the horse in tow, she introduces, “Meet Marshmallow. Not only is he a serene and calm companion, but he's also perfect for beginners like you – friendly and patient.”

She hands you the bridle, a tangible connection to the upcoming adventure. As you cradle it in your hands, your gaze fixes on the magnificent white horse before you. A closer look reveals delicate gray spots adorning its coat, like nature's artistic brushstrokes enhancing its beauty.

Jessi tends to another horse, a rich brown beauty, securing a saddle and bridle. With graceful strides, she leads the horse towards you, introducing him with pride, “This is my horse, goes by the name Cinnamon.”

“I’ll help you up on your horse if you need that?” She chuckles, a teasing glint in her eyes, as if you've never mounted a horse before. 

“No, I'm perfectly capable. Thanks.” You retort, a tinge of frustration in your voice. You take a moment to gather the reins and locate the stirrup. The choice of a western saddle suddenly becomes a blessing, its size and comfort bringing a sense of familiarity and reassurance.

You stretch your left leg up, slotting your foot into the stirrup, and then firmly grasp the horn atop the saddle. Marshmallow remains remarkably still, a paragon of patience as you haul yourself up, swinging your right leg over his substantial white frame. A surge of triumph floods through you as you mount successfully, a proud smile illuminating your face as you glance over at your sister.

Her laughter rings out in congratulation as she mirrors your movements, executing them with a finesse that far surpasses your own. With a gentle push of her legs and the subtle click of her tongue, she effortlessly guides Cinnamon forward, setting a fluid and harmonious rhythm into motion.

Emulating your sister's skilled maneuver, you replicate the actions with Marshmallow, coaxing him to step leisurely out of the expansive brown barn.

Eyeing Jessi's brown hat, you playfully remark, “Hey, I need a hat like yours.” Her laughter rings out, and she quips, “I don't think it will suit you.”

Pouting slightly, you reluctantly admit she might be right. Hats have never been your forte. Meanwhile, Jessi rocks the rancher's look effortlessly with her boots, jeans, shirt, and the hat, completing the ensemble perfectly.

Her laughter echoes through the air as she nudges Cinnamon into a trot. Catching her infectious joy, you mimic the motion, urging Marshmallow to pick up the pace. The rhythmic sound of hooves on the ground makes your heart flutter.

As you navigate the trot, the uncertainty of your riding technique leaves you in an amusing predicament. Unsure whether to sit or stand in the saddle, you find a comical middle ground, hoping Marshmallow isn't too bothered. 

Jessi, catching sight of your improvised riding style, bursts into laughter.

“Are you sure this is as fast as the car?” Expressing your skepticism, you grumble while attempting to sync with Marshmallow's trot. The rhythmic clip-clop of hooves echoes around you, and you can't help but question if this equine journey rivals the speed of a car. Jessi glances at you with a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying your equine adventure.

In the midst of Marshmallow's trot, Jessi reassures you, “In trot, it's not. But if we gallop, it's just as fast.” 

As you ponder her words, it occurs to you that despite her initial urgency to reach the Park's farm, she's taking a leisurely pace, perhaps out of consideration for your riding abilities. Despite the dread of facing the Park brothers, a part of you yearns to arrive sooner, to get this over with as soon as possible.

“Let’s gallop then,” you declare, urging Marshmallow to quicken the pace by pressing your legs against his sides. However, to your surprise, nothing happens, leaving you in a momentary standstill of awkward anticipation.

“You have to sit down in the saddle, all your weight in your ass, and then press a little more with your legs,” Jessi advises, demonstrating the technique on Cinnamon. She adds a few clicking sounds with her tongue, coaxing him into a slow gallop that brings a newfound sense of excitement to the ride.

Following your sister's instructions, you concentrate your weight in your seat, anchored firmly in the saddle. As you press your legs gently, finally, Marshmallow responds, bursting into a slow gallop. The increased speed causes your hair to whip around your face, prompting you to make a mental note to braid it next time for a more practical riding experience.

Together, you and Jessi gallop through the paddocks, surrounded by the mesmerizing landscape of trees and bushes. The natural beauty here is breathtaking, a stark contrast to the towering buildings of the city. Vast open spaces stretch for miles, inviting you to lose yourself in the expansive, untamed wilderness.

As you ride, the motions become second nature, and memories flood back as if the years haven't passed. In just ten minutes, you reconnect with the familiarity of being in the saddle, as though the skill never left you.

Choosing to unleash a faster gallop, you and your sister give your horses the freedom to surge ahead across the lush green expanse. 

The wind caresses your face, setting your hair adrift like a carefree banner. In that exhilarating moment, a surge of childlike joy courses through you, reminiscent of carefree days filled with love. Memories of running in fields, playing hide and seek, and riding ponies with your sister flood your mind. The sheer nostalgia brings tears to your eyes, but you're grateful for the wind whisking them away before your sister can catch a glimpse.

As you approach what initially seemed like a quaint ranch in the distance, the truth unfolds—a vast expanse unfolds before you. The grandeur of the estate becomes apparent, with a towering two-story main house, a dedicated stable for horses, a barn housing machinery, and a sprawling structure that you suspect might be living quarters for the stable hands. The scale of the property dwarfs your own, leaving you in awe of its sheer size and splendor.

As you approach the ranch, an undeniable sense of dread takes residence in your body. 

The looming encounter with Jungkook and Jimin fills you with apprehension. Questions swirl in your mind, pondering how they perceive you – perhaps as the ‘once and done’ kind of girl. It's a misconception, not reflective of who you truly are, yet the complexities of forming a connection with someone like Jungkook, an apparent playboy living miles away, make you hesitant to dive into a relationship.

As you reach the fence, Jessi graciously swings open the gate, and you guide your horse, trotting the final stretch towards the big main house.

Dismounting gracefully, you secure the reins to a sturdy tree post, glancing at the trio of Ford Rangers nearby – a vivid blue one, a sleek black model, and a pristine white vehicle adorned with the distinctive ‘Bell Ranch’ logo. What a weird ranch name.

You stride towards the main house, ready to knock on the front door in a show of politeness. However, Jessi displays the familiarity of a long-time resident, confidently navigating the premises as if it were her own. Faced with an unanswered door, Jessi takes matters into her own hands, her voice echoing through the surroundings, “Kook! Where are you at?”

You roll your eyes, your tolerance for waiting a few moments longer evident, but you surmise this is the country way—or maybe your sister is just exceptionally impatient. Either way, you decide to go along with the local rhythm.

Your gaze locks onto a mop of blonde hair, and an instant wave of regret and uneasiness sweeps through your stomach. A dry lump forms in your throat as your eyes meet Jimin's. His smile, initially bright for your sister, fades into a closed-off expression the moment his gaze lands on you.

Impatience radiates from your sister as she taps her feet against the dirt, demanding answers. “Where's Kook?” she questions Jimin once more, her tone laced with urgency.

“In the barn fixing his bike, I’ll get him.” Jimin responds with a smile, swiftly moving past both of you. As he walks away, you can't help but admire the dirt clinging to him—oddly, he looks enticing covered in the grime. Despite his disheveled appearance, with every speck of dirt, there's an inexplicable allure. You ponder on his hands, dirty and rough, a stark contrast to how you saw him last at the party. He limps as he walks away, and you turn to ask your sister about it, but before you haven’t even spoken the words before, Jimin emerges from the barn with Jungkook at his side.

Jungkook strides purposefully, a confident spring in his step. “Back for round two?”

Your eyes widen, feeling like they might bulge out of their sockets, and a dry lump forms in your throat, making it hard to breathe. Desperately gasping for air, you fumble for words, all while witnessing Jessi and Jimin exchanging eye rolls, and Jungkook indulging in a hearty laugh that echoes from the depths of his chest.

“No, thank you,” you sputter, attempting to regain composure while a storm of emotions swirls within.

“You're welcome anytime, babe,” he teases, winking playfully. Jessi swiftly cuts in with a dismissive wave, “Enough of that,” she declares, clearly accustomed to Jungkook's flirtatious antics.

“We're here to discuss the cattle grazing in the north-east paddock. With the grass running thin, it's time to consider relocating them. How about we join forces and move them to one of your paddocks?” She crosses her arms, her business demeanor impressing you; there's an air of determination that makes you wonder if you could learn a thing or two from her.

“Oh, already? They must be hungry,” Jungkook chuckles, his hands smeared with grease and oil as he absentmindedly wipes them on his jeans.

“We're ready to lend a hand whenever you say the word,” Jimin interjects, his straightforward demeanor becoming more apparent with each word.

“I'm aiming for next Friday, sounds good to you?” She directs her question with a warm smile at Jimin, playfully scolding Jungkook with a friendly slap on the shoulder for his playful banter as he keeps making eyes at you.

“Yes, that works for us.” Jimin responds with a smile, though it isn't directed at you, and a sense of unease settles in. Is it regret, perhaps? You entertain the idea of saying something, but the setting doesn't feel right, so you choose to stay silent.

As the true purpose of this trip dawns on you, you can't help but question Jessi's impatience, especially when she's making plans for something scheduled next week. You initially thought it was an urgent matter, leaving you wondering if impatience is a constant trait in her character.

Jessi claps her hands with genuine excitement. “Great, thank you!” With goodbyes exchanged, you both stride back to your horses, mounting up and steering them towards home.

Ara sighs in exasperation, pointing at the feed packages. “You used the wrong one again!” 

One is adorned in green with crisp white text, while the other flaunts a snowy white exterior with vibrant green letters. It shouldn't be this hard, but somehow, it manages to confuse you every time. It’s a white bag with green text! Why do you keep mixing them up?

“I’m so sorry!” Apologies spill from your lips in frustration. This marks the second time, and you scold yourself silently. How could you make the same mistake again? The weight of responsibility hangs heavy; after all, it's not just about feed but the well-being of the cattle. Grateful relief washes over you, realizing that, so far, your blunders haven't harmed the animals.

As she gathers her brown hair into a playful ponytail, she throws a suggestion your way, “How about a trip into town? We're running low on feed, and I could do with some company.”

“Sure!” Your response carries a cheerful tone as you eagerly agree, taking charge of the kitchen cleanup after Ha-rin has whipped up breakfast for the whole crew.

“Perfect, we'll head out once you’re done here.” Her words float in the air as she exits the kitchen, leaving you with the remnants of breakfast to tidy up.

As you complete the cleanup, you step into the crisp outdoors to join Ara. Soo-ah has also gathered with her, forming a trio headed towards the ranch's pick-up truck—a simple white vehicle adorned with the ranch logo. “Bora Ranch?” you muse aloud, the words escaping your lips and drawing the curious gazes of the two girls.

“Yeah, you didn’t know the name of the ranch?” Ara asks you curious.

“Honestly, I've been so immersed in learning the ropes and surviving the ranch life that I overlooked the name. But hey, now I do!” With a decisive shake of your head, you grasp the door handle, swiftly pulling it open to slide into the car. 

“Wasn’t the ranch called Bora when you were a kid?” Soo-ah inquires, turning around in the front seat to catch your response.

“Nope, can't recall what it was called back then, if anything at all,” you chuckle, settling into the car seat.

The engine purrs to life under Soo-ah's control as she expertly maneuvers the car, guiding it through the ranch's vast expanse along the winding dirt road.

The two-hour drive into town becomes a delightful journey of shared stories and laughter, weaving a stronger bond between you, Soo-ah, and Ara. In those moments, you discover the genuine sweetness that resides within both of these girls, making the passage of time feel like a fleeting friendship blossoming on the open road.

As you pull into town, the anticipation builds, and the car finds its spot next to the feedstore. Ara eagerly guides you through the intricacies of the new feed brand, making a vivid presentation to ensure there's no room for confusion between it and the previous one.

As you load the pick-up truck with feed, your gaze wanders across the quaint town. It's remarkably small, dominated by a main road adorned with a handful of establishments — the feedstore, a chic salon, a boutique showcasing fashionable attire, and a charming corner cafe. Amidst these, the bar captures your attention. Its size is impressive, boasting a spacious parking lot, and despite the midday hour, a growing lineup of cars hints at its popularity. However, what truly stands out is a black Ford Ranger, its exterior, though smeared with mud, commanding attention amidst the other vehicles.

Soo-ah and Ara catch your gaze and follow your line of sight, their eyes locking onto his car. A shared look of sympathy reflects in their eyes as they turn to you. Confusion reigns for a brief moment until your eyes lock onto Jungkook, seated outside the bar, his lips murmuring something into the ear of an eager woman. In that instant, reality crashes down on you like a ton of bricks. Their pitiful expressions make sense now—he is, without a doubt, a notorious fuckboy.

A furrow forms on your brow, a moment of fleeting confusion, but then the realization hits—you and Jungkook aren't a thing. A single night together doesn't forge a relationship. You're not staking any claim, nor do you desire to. Yet, buried in the depths, a twinge of discomfort surfaces as you witness him flirt so effortlessly.

Soo-ah's comforting words echo in your ears as her gentle pat on your back serves as a reassurance. 

“Just forget him,” she advises, and you try to let those words act as a soothing balm for the unexpected sting in your chest.

A chuckle escapes your lips, a spontaneous reaction to the absurdity of the situation. The notion of dating him had never crossed your mind, making the surge of unexpected emotions puzzling. “I will,” you affirm, determined to sweep away any lingering thoughts of Jungkook with the winds of laughter.

Ara's voice carries a weight of revelation as she completes her circle around the car, dropping a bombshell about Jungkook's romantic history. “He's never been in a relationship. It's always a quick pickup, a couple of encounters, and that's the end of it,” she discloses, leaving you to digest the surprising insight into Jungkook's love life.

Her revelation lingers in your thoughts, and as you mull it over, a resolution forms in your mind: Jungkook, with his transient affairs, aligns with the rumors. You decide to tread cautiously, steering clear of any emotional entanglements that might lead to a broken heart once more.

“Let's get out of here.” Soo-ah's words cut through the tension, and she pounds on the car to redirect your attention away from the spectacle of Jungkook's seduction. You avert your gaze, feeling a mix of relief and discomfort, and climb back into the car. 

As Soo-ah drives you away from the scene, your mind races at a million miles per hour.

You draw in a deep breath, steeling yourself for the impending conversation. The rhythmic thud of your heart echoes in your ears, and your fingers tremble with nervous anticipation as you traverse the hallway towards Jessi's office. The closed door looms ahead, and you muster the courage to knock, the sound echoing your internal turmoil as you await her response.

“Yes?” 

Her voice resonates with stern irritation, and the meager courage you had gathered begins to wane. Nevertheless, you persist, pushing the door open and stepping into her office. The room is dimly lit, the yellow light flickering ominously. A sense of impending darkness hovers, and you suspect the light bulb may surrender to its fate soon. Papers and clutter cover the desk and floor, creating a chaotic tapestry. Amidst the disorder, a few paintings of landscapes with gazing horses hang on the walls—childlike in their execution. 

You can't help but wonder if Jessi crafted these artistic expressions all those years ago and if, deep down, she still finds solace in the strokes of a paintbrush, much like you do.

Jessi is laser-focused on her laptop, her gaze oscillating between the glowing screen and a stack of papers nearby. It occurs to you that she might be immersed in the daunting task of managing bills, and it strikes you that this might not be the ideal moment to disturb her. Despite this realization, you've already crossed the threshold, determined to make another attempt at securing her signature.

“I was wondering if I could get your signature…” Your sentence hangs in the air, unfinished, as she abruptly turns her head to gaze at you. The movement is so swift, you half expect her to suffer whiplash. An air of anger envelops her expression, and though you can practically predict her response, you stand there, waiting for her to articulate the inevitable refusal.

“No.” The word is a sharp, decisive blade cutting through the air. She meets your gaze with a frustrated expression, sighing as if weary from the mere thought. “Look, I know you want to sell your share. But that’s just not gonna work for me.”

You exhale a frustrated breath, irritation evident in your voice. “Can't we find some middle ground or work out a solution?”

You attempt to plead your case, but she remains steadfast, refusing to entertain your appeals. It doesn't catch you off guard, but the refusal still grates on your nerves. Why can't she just sign the damn paper?

“I've already made it clear. I don't want strangers to buy my ranch,” she declares bluntly, her voice laced with venom. Your anger intensifies as you sense the injustice of the situation. You're not interested in a share of the ranch; you just want the damn money and to move on. Why can't she simply grant you that?

“Can't Soo-ah, Ha-rin, Ara, or you just buy me out?” you vent in frustration, the anger escalating within you. This isn't unfolding as you planned—yet again.

Jessi's laughter cuts through the air, a menacing tone clinging to it. “They don't have the money. And I don't have the money for that either. Don't you think I thought of that already?” she retorts, words spat out like venom, her breath quickening from the tension in the room.

“Can’t you just loan some money from the bank and buy me out?” you plead with her in frustration. She rolls her eyes at your seemingly childish behavior, “This is a ranch. The bank is not going to loan me more money. I'm already in debt there,” she retorts, a hint of exhaustion in her voice.

Your mouth falls open in shock. The intricacies of running a ranch, especially the financial aspects, had never crossed your mind before, but now it hits you that it isn't a cheap endeavor. Exhaling in frustration, you start pacing around in front of her imposing wooden desk.

“It's clear we've reached an impasse,” she declares with venom in her voice, slamming the laptop shut. As she rises from her chair, the veins in her arms become visible, pulsating with the tension in the room.

“You might as well go, because I'm not changing my mind.” She points sternly at the door, and you can feel the anger bubbling inside you, your blood reaching a boiling point.

“Why can’t you be a good sister and let me have this?”” you ask, your anger surfacing as you clench your hands at your sides, teeth biting into your lips, desperately trying to contain words that might lead to regret.

“A good sister?” She spits back in your face, her voice dripping with venom, eyes as cold as ice. “Who the fuck are you to speak about being a good sister!” Her volume rises, accusing finger pointing at you. “I haven’t heard from you in twenty fucking years! And when I invited you to mom’s funeral, you didn’t even reply or get back to me! Some ‘good sister’ you are.” She’s almost panting as she spits rapid fire from her mouth.

You feel the urge to lash out, anger filling you to the brim, but with nowhere for it to go, it erupts as tears streaming down your face. Control slips away the longer you stand here. “I know I didn’t call you or anything. And I’m really sorry about that.” Clenching your hands, you let the tears fall freely.

It doesn’t seem to faze Jessi; she just huffs in annoyance, as if your apology holds no significance for her.

“I had my own stuff to focus on…” You begin to sniffle as you reflect on the events of just a few months ago. The pain still lingers within you, causing a visible tremor to shake through your frame.

“What could be more important than the death of your mother?” She spits back at you, her eyes piercing into the depths of your soul.

“My dad died of cancer!” You yell in her face, tears streaming down, heartbeat thumping with anger. Despite your efforts to dry your tears, it's futile. You retreat from the desk, overwhelmed by memories of your ailing father—frail, immobilized, his eyes devoid of life. It's too much, and you storm out, oblivious to the sadness etched on Jessi's face as you leave.

You dash out of the house, ending up in front of a gate leading to one of the paddocks. The need to clear your head drives you to open the gate, and you start walking, still overcome with sobs. Climbing over the hill, you notice a cluster of trees in the distance. Despite the darkness enveloping the surroundings, their presence is unmistakable.

As you tread the path, the weight of your father's recent death and the distant memories of your mother resurface. The choice between their funerals wasn't made lightly. Yet, in the end, it was clear – your dad, a constant presence throughout the years, deserved your presence more than the woman who had been a stranger for two decades.

Your tears persist, an endless stream down your face. The length of your walk is uncertain, but when you glance back, the ranch appears as a mere speck on the vast horizon, a distant point in a landscape now overshadowed by the weight of your emotions.

You discover a substantial tree log and settle down, planting yourself on it. Alone amidst the expansive embrace of nature, you surrender to the waves of sorrow, allowing the vastness around you to become a silent witness to your emotional unraveling.

For what felt like an eternity, it was only you and your father. The day he took you away from the ranch, from your sister's embrace, it left your heart in shards. Despite numerous inquiries, he kept the reason veiled until the very day he drew his last breath. With a fragile whisper, he beckoned you closer, he shared in hushed tones the painful revelation behind your abrupt departure years ago. He had unearthed the heartbreaking truth that your mother had been unfaithful, a betrayal repeated countless times despite his pleas for fidelity. It was the final, unbearable straw that fractured the fragile bonds holding your family together.

Lost in the vast expanse of time, you eventually lift your gaze, captivated by the celestial display overhead. The stars twinkle in a cosmic dance, their brilliance far removed from the city's suffocating glow. The beauty of the night sky resonates with you, prompting a twinge of sorrow. This rural haven has grown on you, its tranquility a stark departure from the chaos of the city. A sense of foreboding creeps in as the prospect of returning to the city looms, leaving you conflicted and uneasy.

Torn between the serene allure of the countryside and the harsh reality of unresolved issues, you grapple with conflicting emotions. The idyllic surroundings clash with the palpable tension between you and Jessi. Her apparent disdain and refusal to facilitate the sale of your share leave you caught in a tumultuous predicament, akin to being trapped between a rock and a hard place.

The symphony of crickets reverberates in the bushes, and as the chilly air seeps into your bones, a decision crystallizes within you – it's time to reluctantly return to the ranch.

“Get up you fool!” Jessi's voice pierces through your dreams as she yanks the covers off your still-drowsy form. Startled, you jolt upright, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You mumble through a yawn, not quite fully awakened to handle your sister's early morning energy. Your eyes, still puffy from the tears shed yesterday, bear witness to the emotional turmoil that led you to cry yourself to sleep. You had purposely avoided any conversation with Jessi upon your return, convinced that the words exchanged would only add more weight to the heavy air lingering between you two.

“The cattle are loose!” 

Her urgent cry jolts you awake, prompting a hasty scramble to throw clothes over your drowsy form. “Get up and help!” The command echoes through the house, accompanied by the chaotic symphony of hurried footsteps. The urgency compels you to leap out of bed, hastily pulling on the jeans Jessi tossed your way, followed by a shirt and your sneakers in rapid succession. The echo of multiple footsteps thundering through the house only intensifies the sense of impending chaos.

You dash outside to find a bustling scene in the yard—cattle meandering at a leisurely pace, a few grazing on the lawn, and mischief-makers having ventured into the vegetable garden, creating a lively and chaotic spectacle.

Under Jessi's brisk command, you, along with Soo-ah, Ha-rin, and Ara, embark on the mission to corral the wayward cows and guide them back to the paddock. The endeavor unfolds as a symphony of teamwork, with shouts and laughter echoing through the air. It's an hour of spirited effort before the last stray bovine is safely enclosed within the fence, the collective achievement ringing with a sense of accomplishment.

Jessi forcefully shuts the gate, her exasperated exhale slicing through the tension in the air. “Who left the damn gate open?” 

Her gaze sweeps across the group, sharp and accusatory. The realization hits you like a bolt – yesterday's walk. Anxiety gnaws at you as her eyes narrow, pinpointing your guilt. 

“Fucking useless,” she mutters, striding away with an air of frustration, leaving a lingering sense of failure in her wake.

Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin surround you, their words a comforting chorus dispelling the air of failure. 

“Anyone could have slipped up; it was just a simple mistake,” they assure you, attempting to soothe the lingering tension. With their encouragement, the weight of the mishap eases, replaced by a collective understanding that, in the end, all the cattle were safely corralled back in.

A gnawing sense of inadequacy settles in your chest, a relentless reminder of perceived shortcomings. It's not just about the occasional missteps—whether in riding, feed, or even a simple tire change. Or the way you seem to get on your sister’s nerves everyday. Each incident, a haunting echo of ineptitude, leaves you questioning your worth in this environment. perhaps you're the one who's out of place here, incapable of getting anything right. The thought of returning home starts to linger, a tempting escape from a seemingly never-ending string of blunders.

Despite pouring your feelings of inadequacy to the girls, their reassurances haven't managed to erase the heavy weight on your shoulders. The elusive signature from Jessi seems like a distant dream, and the strained relationship with her intensifies your desire to leave. 

Yet, when the girls invited you to the local town bar before your departure, you agreed. It's a farewell tinged with uncertainty, a bittersweet blend of camaraderie and the looming decision to walk away from the ranch.

As you rummage through the clothes in the guest room, seeking the perfect outfit for the evening, Ha-rin's advice echoes in your mind – nothing too fancy, just a simple shirt and jeans. 

Yet, your hands, tangled in the fabric of uncertainty, grapple with the realization that the perfect shirt is elusive. Did you run out, or is it merely camouflaged within the folds of your wardrobe, playing a coy game of hide-and-seek?

As the realization dawns that your entire collection of shirts is held hostage in the laundry's cleansing embrace, a dilemma unfolds before you. 

The prospect of trudging to the distant cottages to borrow a shirt from the girls seems an arduous task. Instead, a mischievous thought tiptoes into your mind – borrowing a shirt from Jessi. It's just a shirt, a fleeting thought whispers, and she probably wouldn't even notice, right?

Stepping away from the chaos of your disheveled room, you ascend the staircase, guided by the thought of borrowing a shirt from Jessi. With the certainty of her absence, you boldly push open the door to her room, revealing a sanctuary of simplicity. The regal expanse of the king-sized bed commands attention, accompanied by sparse embellishments – a poignant photograph capturing Jessi with your mom and her loyal companion, Cinnamon. A modest dresser stands sentinel next to the door, holding its silent vigil over the room.

With a hesitant curiosity, you breach the privacy of Jessi's dresser, a repository of her sartorial choices. 

Rows of jeans, shirts, and blouses reveal a spectrum dominated by natural and earthy hues – an insight into her affinity for the subtle tones of nature. A twinge of guilt flickers within you, acknowledging the intimacy and impropriety of this clandestine exploration. Despite the internal conflict, your quest for the perfect t-shirt propels you deeper into the folds of her wardrobe.

As your fingers graze the various textures, you're captivated by the softness that beckons your touch. A distinctive fabric captures your attention, and you pull out a grunge-inspired t-shirt—its black canvas adorned with shades of gray, embellished by the iconic AC/DC logo. A chuckle escapes you, a silent agreement with your choice. 

Closing the dresser door behind you, you return to your room, adorned in the rebellious elegance of your discovery, finalizing your look with a touch of light makeup.

You slide into a zip hoodie, a borrowed shield from Jessi's collection, the fabric embracing you in warmth against the crisp night air. Stepping out to the pickup, you find the girls patiently waiting, and even Jessi stands there but she doesn’t spare you a look.

You settle into the car, the engine's hum creating a rhythmic melody as Ha-rin skillfully navigates the night roads. The world outside blurs in shades of darkness, dirt dancing against the windows like fleeting shadows. Ha-rin has cranked up the heat, prompting you to unzip your hoodie.

As the car inches closer to town in the dimness, you feel the proximity of civilization, and just then, Soo-ah interjects, snapping you out of your contemplation, “Who's taking the wheel on our way back?”

A collective gaze circulates among you, and you break the silence, declaring, “I'll take the wheel. I don't plan on indulging much tonight, anyway.” 

As Jessi turns her gaze toward you from the passenger's seat, her eyes lock onto the fabric hugging your frame – a subtle frown etching across her features. “Is that my shirt?” she questions, the tone a blend of curiosity and a hint of something else.

“Yeah, is it okay—,” you begin, but she cuts you off with a scoff. “Take it off,” she demands, leaving you staring at her in disbelief. Surely, she can't be serious!

“All my shirts are in the laundry. I hoped it was okay…” you mope, a pout forming on your face as you cross your arms. The prospect of having to take it off leaves you in a momentary dilemma.

“Well, you didn't ask if you could wear it. So, take. It. Off. Now,” she punctuates sternly, leaving you gaping in disbelief.

“What am I going to wear at the bar then?” you question her with genuine worry. “I can't walk in there without anything on, for heaven's sake!”

“You're wearing a bra, right?” She asks, matter-of-factly, and you nod in confirmation.

“Then you're fine. You won't be the first to walk around in a bra in that place.” Your mouth falls open. You can't believe what you're hearing, and the realization that you're about to walk around there half-naked sinks in.

“I won't take it off,” you huff, crossing your arms tighter around your body, defiance etched across your face.

“If you don't take it off yourself, I'll pull it off you when we arrive,” she threatens, her tone stern and ominous. A nervous trickle of sweat trails down your back; you know your sister well enough now to recognize the determination in her voice. If you don't shed the garment now, she'll simply rip it off you, and with a bigger audience, no less.

“No thank you.” With a sigh, you peel the hoodie off, followed by the t-shirt, leaving you momentarily exposed. Just as you're about to tug the hoodie back over your torso, relishing the thought of having at least that to cover yourself, Jessi interrupts with a deadpan stare.

“That’s my hoodie too, isn’t it?” Her voice, stern and eyes shooting daggers at your skin, catches you off guard. Damn, she noticed that too. It seems you can’t get anything past her watchful gaze.

Reluctantly, you surrender both the t-shirt and the hoodie. A frown etches itself across your face. Here you are, left with nothing on your upper body except for a simple blue bra.

Gratitude tinges her voice as she accepts the returned clothing with a simple, “Thank you.”

You wear a pouty expression, sulking in silence, as the rest of the car bursts into laughter at the spectacle of your misfortune.

As Ha-rin effortlessly maneuvers the car into the bar's parking lot, you all disembark, greeted by a chilly breeze that sends shivers down your spine. Eagerly, you rush toward the entrance, craving the warmth that lies within.

Soo-ah swings open the door, ushering everyone into the bar, and immediately, the inviting warmth envelops your skin. The crowded room turns heads, eyes fixating on your unconventional attire. Whistles from a few men pierce the air, including Jungkook, causing a tinge of discomfort, but with determination, you forge ahead, blending into the lively atmosphere with your group.

Jessi guides you to a table occupied by the Park brothers and two other captivating men. The allure emanating from the group leaves you wondering – why does everyone here seem irresistibly attractive?

Jungkook whistles once more, his laughter echoing through the bar. “Did you lose a bet or something?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You roll your eyes, unfazed by Jungkook's comment, though you catch Jimin stealing a glance at your breasts. The attention makes you feel exposed, but with a hiss, you stride forward, the amused chuckles from the other girls trailing behind you. Soo-ah takes charge, heading to the bar to order drinks and offering a brief respite from the sea of eyes fixated on you.

“Well. Someone doesn’t share clothes. Apparently.” You remark with a hint of spite, directing your gaze at Jessi. She remains unfazed, nonchalantly pulling out a chair beside one of the unfamiliar men. The air thickens with tension, your words hanging in the atmosphere like a challenge.

You settle into the chair, and Soo-ah returns with a round of beers for everyone. Then, a realization dawns on her. “You haven't met Hoseok and Yoongi, have you?” she says, a spark of excitement in her eyes as she introduces you to the two unfamiliar faces at the table.

As you shake your head, laughter escaping your lips, Yoongi and Hoseok extend their hands in a friendly greeting. Introducing themselves as the reliable stable hands for Jungkook and Jimin, their warm smiles put you at ease in the lively atmosphere of the bar.

Yoongi, with his silver hair, wears an expression that hints at a perpetual lack of sleep, his tired eyes meeting yours. Clad in a simple black shirt, he offers a gentle smile while nursing his beer. On the other hand, Hoseok radiates energy, his bright smile beaming at you. His soft brown hair frames his face, falling effortlessly as he strategically averts his gaze from your bra.

You seize the beer Soo-ah passes you, savoring the first sip as the effervescent bubbles dance on your tongue. It's your one indulgence, a calculated choice, knowing you'll be the designated driver on the way back.

Hoseok's infectious chuckle accompanies his question, “How do you find ranch life?” You hesitate, torn between the weight of your struggles and the desire to keep the atmosphere light.

Opting for the lighter choice, you respond with a smile, “It’s exciting.”

But even as the words leave your lips, you recognize the mask in your tone. Hoseok, however, doesn't press for more information; he simply smiles back at you, leaving the unspoken conversation hanging in the air.

You catch Jimin staring at you again, and a subtle shiver of uneasiness trails down your spine. The intensity in his gaze leaves you questioning: Why does he keep fixating on you like that?

“Aren’t you cold?” A sudden chill envelops the air as Jimin turns his attention to you, his question hanging in the quiet intensity of the moment. Uncertain why, a shiver dances down your spine as his eyes lock onto yours. You bite your lip, offering a nonchalant shrug in response.

With a confident grin, Jungkook peels his shirt off, instantly attracting glances from a few ladies at a nearby table. “Here. You can have my shirt,” he declares, flexing his muscles proudly. Eye rolls ensue, both from Jimin and the rest of the table. Nevertheless, you accept the offered shirt with gratitude, navigating the amusing spectacle with a polite thank you.

You slip into Jungkook's shirt, instantly feeling a wave of comfort and security wash over you. It smells musky, like him.

Grinning, Yoongi playfully smacks Jungkook's chiseled chest, remarking, “Well, look who's playing the gentleman.” 

Nonchalantly, Jungkook quips, “Easier to pick up the ladies like this, anyway,” as his laughter echoes through the bar. While he scans the crowd for his next conquest, you remain indifferent, content just to have a shirt on.

Jungkook's attention quickly shifts as he spots an intriguing woman across the bar, prompting him to rise from the table and saunter over to her, leaving your group behind.

While Yoongi and Hoseok engage in conversation with Soo-ah and Ha-rin about a plan to play pool, they eventually depart, leaving you, Ara, Jimin, and Jessi to hold down the fort at the table.

Her eyes plead with you as she asks, “Is it okay if I head up to the bar? I spotted some of my friends there. I know we were supposed to have fun together, but…” The appeal is directed more towards you than Jessi, and you nod in understanding. The rest of your group has already scattered, so you don't mind her branching out.

Jessi takes a deliberate sip of her beer, her eyes scanning the crowded bar. “Actually, I see someone I need to talk to too.” With a firm grip on her beer, she strides away, leaving you alone with Jimin amidst the lively atmosphere of the bar.

You offer him a tentative smile, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. In response, he mirrors the gesture, raising his beer to his lips with a hint of intrigue.

The atmosphere feels tense, and it hits you that you haven't had a proper conversation with him since the incident at the barn party. Unsettled by the lingering tension, you take the initiative to break the ice. Nervously turning the beer between your fingers, you offer, “I'm sorry if I did something wrong.”

Jimin's eyes meet yours, a gentle intensity in his gaze, and he nods, encouraging you to continue.

In a hushed tone, you admit, “I'm sorry I slept with you brother…” His reaction is immediate, a visible flinch, and suddenly the pieces of the tension between you fall into place.

“Why apologize for that?” he questions, sipping his beer with a curious glint in his eyes.

“It just seems like you're angry with me... or something,” 

He observes, his eyes penetrating yours. You look away, unable to meet the intensity in those brown orbs that seem to be searching for something, and you're not sure if you're ready to confront whatever it is.

“Look,” he starts, leaning over the table, “I'm not really angry. Maybe I'm disappointed?” It's unclear if it's a question or a statement, but you choose to lean in, meeting his bold gaze head-on.

“You are, of course, allowed to sleep with whoever you want to. It's just... it's always him.” The words sound gritty, leaving his mouth with a hint of anger. Not directed at you, though. There's a sibling rivalry in his voice, a trace of jealousy that you can't ignore.

A realization hits you like a lightning bolt – is he jealous? Jealous of his own brother?

“All women are drawn to him. He's always fucking around. Not that I'm saying I want to be like that, but sometimes, it would be nice to feel noticed, you know?” His eyes carry a touch of sadness, and you offer him a sympathetic smile. It's evident this bothers him, and you're at a loss for words to comfort him.

As you wonder why he doesn't feel noticed—after all, the man is undeniably attractive—your comforting words hover on the tip of your tongue. Just as you're about to speak, he lets out a deep exhale, as if releasing pent-up emotions.

“You know… When I saw you that day in the kitchen after all those years,” He begins to say as he leans back into the chair, absently scratches his head, a gesture that hints at a blend of frustration and contemplation.

An awkward chuckle escapes him, his upper body swaying with a mix of nerves and genuine amusement. “I never thought I would see you again when you and your father left,” he admits, his laughter carrying the weight of unexpected reunions.

He fidgets with his beer, a bashful admission lingering in the air. “Did you know,” he confesses, “I had a crush on you when we were kids?” A nervous gulp follows, as if drowning the remnants of an old, unspoken secret.

The revelation hits you like a sudden storm. You had no idea. Is this the underlying reason for his jealousy?

You gaze at him with a soft intensity, a hint of nervousness in your own eyes. “I had no idea,” you confess, unraveling another layer of the complex emotions between you.

“I'm truly sorry,” you utter once more, the sincerity echoing in your voice. The unexpected entanglement with his brother wasn't part of any plan, and you hadn't anticipated him witnessing the intimate moment.

“It's fine,” he chuckles, though the sincerity in his tone remains uncertain. The curiosity nags at you, urging you to delve deeper into the past: Does he still harbor that childhood crush?

“Do you want another beer?” he queries, noting the emptiness of his bottle. You decline with a shake of your head, stating, “No, thank you. I'm the designated driver.” He comprehends, lifting himself from the chair to make his way to the bar. Returning with a fresh beer, he resettles in front of you.

“So, what's your honest take on this place?” he inquires with a chuckle, clearly aware that your response to Hoseok's previous question may not have been entirely truthful.

You release a sigh of frustration, sinking back into the chair. “It's tough. I seem to get on Jessi's nerves constantly, and I manage to mess up everything,” you admit, earning a chuckle from him at your candidness.

“Years have passed since you were last here. Getting back into the groove will take time, and she should understand that,” he remarks, sipping his beer. His gaze softens, and you find reassurance in his words. Talking to him feels comforting, and the strange tension that lingered before has dissipated.

Inhaling deeply, you confess, “I've been considering heading back home. It just feels like I mess everything up…”

Jimin dismisses your thoughts with a fervent shake of his head, “No, no, you shouldn't give up. Please, give it some more time.”

A contemplative smile tugs at your lips as you ponder Jimin's words, uncertain whether to heed his advice and give it more time. You're caught in the crossroads of uncertainty, lacking a solid reason to stay, yet finding a growing appreciation for the vast open spaces and the embrace of nature that surrounds you on the ranch.

A nostalgic warmth envelops the conversation as Jimin recalls a shared childhood memory. “Do you remember when we were kids and Jessi took your favorite bunny and hid it?” His laughter echoes through the reminiscence, and a vivid image of the past floods back to you. 

“Yeah! You helped me find it,” you respond, a genuine smile playing on your lips. The memory resurfaces, the two of you embarking on a bunny-rescue mission for hours, Jessi withholding the secret of its hiding place. A chuckle escapes you as the camaraderie of that moment echoes in the present.

“Jessi was so mean,” you chuckle, a playful glint in your eyes, “still is,” you add, the laughter intensifying as the enduring nature of her mischief becomes a source of amusement.

Engaging in conversation with Jimin feels remarkably effortless. The dialogue unfolds organically, and you find yourself wondering why you hesitated to talk to him sooner. It seems foolish now, realizing there was no need to be afraid of facing him.

“That she is.” He joins in the laughter, and you catch a glimpse of his slightly crooked teeth. 

As you take a moment to study him again, really taking him in this time, you notice the fullness of his lips, the endearing crinkle of his eyes when he laughs, and the way he uses his hands to cover his laughter. He looks good—no, more than that, he's attractive. His sweetness, reminiscent of the kid you remember from years ago, now magnified in the man before you. Doubt creeps in, and you begin to wonder if sleeping with Jungkook was a colossal mistake.

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

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

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

🐴Chapter summary: You arrive back at the ranch, a place you used to call home as a child. But it doesn’t hold the same meaning anymore. With the passing of your mother, you stand to inherit part of that very ranch– and you don’t want it. Only problem, your sister doesn’t want to give you her signature for you to sell your share. 🐴Chapter title: Inheritance 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: mention of past character death of parents, exhibitionism, explicit smut in the form of protected sex, quick and dirty sex, doing it against a barn, creampie, nipple play, clit play. Doing it in public / outside. Mention of past infidelity (of parents). Spoiler ahead!!! Jungkook and Jimin are (half) brothers and reader sleeping with JK is necessary to happen for the sake of the plot 🥲 It sucked to write that part, and if you feel like the smut if ‘eh’ it’s because it was written that way because reader isn’t meant to be with JK! So, please, don’t let that discourage you from reading it, the rest of the story is really good and MC realizes she’s made a mistake… anyway the smut with Jimin when it eventually happen, is just 🥵🥵🥵 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 8.2k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog @kiki-zb @babejinnie @ownthesunshine @allie-is-a-panda @glllhjh @bergandysam @13-manggaetteok

*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 💿 “Theme from McLeod’s Daughters” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: this story has been in my head forever, and I’ve spent months outlining it and planning it– so I’m so stoked to finally post it! 🥳 I love both McLeod’s Daughters and BTS, so why not combine it?? I am not sure anybody will read this story, but if you do, thank you! It truly means the world to me. 

I also want to give a very big thank you and shout out to my dear friend, Lua, for reading it while I worked on it, hyping me up and giving me such fucking wonderful feedback 😭✨ Thank you so much @letjungcoook7 💖🥹

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

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

“I said, I wanna touch the earth I wanna break it in my hands I wanna grow something wild and unruly I wanna sleep on the hard ground In the comfort of your arms On a pillow of bluebonnets In a blanket made of stars Oh, it sounds good to me I said, cowboy take me away Fly this girl as high as you can into the wild blue Set me free, oh, I pray” - “Cowboy Take Me Away” by The Chicks

The tires of your car dig into the unforgiving dirt road with a tenacious grip as you navigate the rugged terrain. A symphony of sand and dust dances before the windshield, yet your focus remains unyielding. The landscape is open and inviting, yet there’s tall mountains in the distance framing the idyllic nature. 

The pulsating beat of the music reverberates through the vehicle, echoing the determination coursing through your veins. Your fingers tighten around the wheel, your resolve unshakable. 

Amidst the chaotic whirlwind outside, you're on a singular quest: to get your sister’s signature to sell your share of the ranch.

You yearn to sever all ties with the place. 

It's not a matter of hatred, per se, but rather an aversion steeped in memories you'd rather forget. 

The grounds echo with a tapestry of recollections, most of which cling like shadows to the recesses of your mind—a gallery of moments you're desperate to erase from the canvas of your past.

The passing of your mother, a woman absent from your life for over two decades, casts a melancholic hue over this reunion, that leaves much to be desired.

Separated by the passage of years, your sister remains a distant specter on the horizon of your past. A chapter of familial connection was abruptly closed when your father took you away from the ranch during your formative years, the sprawling fields replaced by the relentless rhythm of the city. 

The city, with its towering structures and ceaseless energy, has woven itself into the fabric of your existence. Amidst the hustle, the stress, the eclectic cafes, and the teeming crowds, you've found a peculiar treasure trove of experiences that pulse through your veins like a vibrant heartbeat. The city's flaws, laid bare like urban scars, only deepen your affection for its complex tapestry, making each chaotic street corner and neon-lit club a cherished fragment in the mosaic of your life.

As an undesired song infiltrates your playlist, you find yourself questioning its very existence on your curated soundtrack. 

Swiftly, you dismiss its intrusion, replacing its notes with the growling intensity of a much angrier anthem. 

The need for focus on this mission is paramount, an unyielding commitment that not even the persuasive tones of Jessi, with all her influence, can sway or alter.

A familiar sign with your family’s last name emerges on the horizon, unleashing a flood of memories from an idyllic childhood—filled with the echoes of hide-and-seek, the warmth of love, and the harmonious symphony of laughter—that paints both your irises and your heart in hues of nostalgia. 

Yet, as your fingers instinctively clench around the steering wheel, you staunchly refuse to be swayed by the emotional undertow. Determination courses through your veins, a steadfast resolve not to let sentiment cloud the clarity of your purpose.

With a resolute spirit, you navigate the winding road that leads to the ranch. 

As the familiar landscape unfurls before you, a creeping uneasiness takes root within the recesses of your being. Despite the passage of two decades, the ranch appears frozen in time, an unchanged picture that sends shivers down your spine. The unsettling familiarity of the place only amplifies the weight of the past, casting a shadow over your determined journey back to a place that seems to have resisted the relentless march of time.

Bringing the car to a halt before the imposing main house, you silence the engine with a decisive twist of the key. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, mingling with the weight of anticipation that hangs in the air. Inhaling deeply, you draw in the essence of the moment, your fingers betraying a nervous rhythm as they tap anxiously against the steering wheel. 

The stillness belies the turmoil surging within, as you ready yourself to encounter the ghost of your past.

A mere thirty minutes— an hour at most, and you'll resume your journey on the open road, bound for the comfort of home in the city. 

Determination courses through your veins, intertwining with the staccato rhythm of your anxious heartbeat, the pulsations reverberating so forcefully that you can sense them echoing all the way to the depths of your ears. 

The moment your car door swings open, a subtle shift in the wind whispers a tale of transformation. The landscape may echo familiarity, but an intangible alteration lingers in the air, an elusive metamorphosis that leaves you questioning the very essence of this place. Is it a mere illusion, or has something truly shifted, perhaps within the confines of your own soul? 

Navigating the uneven terrain in heels proves to be a challenge, but undeterred, you conquer the dirt road and arrive at the tall front door. It stands before you, a sentinel of memories, somehow appearing taller than in recollection. The weathered, dark-red wooden door remains stoically unchanged, a silent witness to the passage of time. 

Two deliberate knocks break the stillness, and you retreat a step, a reverberation of anticipation coursing through the air as you stand on the threshold of both the past and the unknown.

The door frame, once pristine in its white coat, now bears the scars of time, its paint chipped and revealing glimpses of the weathered wood beneath. 

Stationed in front of the door, you endure a suspenseful five minutes, an eternity compressed into every passing second, yet the silence remains unbroken. Undeterred by the absence of response, a resolute determination guides your actions as you seize the handle. With a deliberate press, the handle yields, surrendering to your resolve and releasing a cacophony of creaks—a symphony of protesting hinges announcing your entrance into the realm of memories.

“Hello?” 

Your voice, tinged with uncertainty, dances into the air as you cautiously poke your head through the threshold, a hesitant entry into the familiar realms of the house. 

A gentle warmth envelops you, tenderly kissing your skin and infusing an instant sense of calm. The scent, aged and rich, swirls around you like a tangible embrace of wood and cherished memories from your childhood. The hallway stretches out before you, adorned with snapshots frozen in time—images of you and Jessi playing in the fields, your first pony, and a cherished trio with your mom. Each picture pulses with the erratic beat of your heart, echoing the palpable journey down the corridor of reminiscence. Amidst this gallery of the past, you navigate the tapestry of nostalgia, your destination set on what memory deems to be the kitchen.

The staccato clank of your heels resonates boldly against the unpolished hardwood floor, a deliberate announcement of your presence that reverberates through the silent expanse as you press deeper into the heart of the kitchen. Despite the resounding echo, a mysterious absence lingers, the emptiness amplifying the solitude within the room, a poignant contrast to the persistent cadence of your steps.

Surveying the scene, your eyes capture the delicate dance of white curtains adorned with lace, their elegance offering a stark contrast to the weathered state of the kitchen. Time has etched its story on the cabinets, pleading for a rejuvenating touch—perhaps a cleansing and a new coat of color to breathe life into the tired, faded cream. A wistful smile graces your lips, an emotive response to the tactile connection forged as your fingers trace the countertop. The surface, a touch dusty yet evocative, sparks an odd familiarity, transporting you to a realm of forgotten times and the comforting essence of what was once home.

A sudden voice startles you from your reverie, its unexpected presence slicing through the air like a well-timed interruption in the symphony of memories. 

“Can I help you?”

A jolt courses through your body, a startled response to the abrupt intrusion of the voice, yet you pivot on your heels, meeting the owner of the enigmatic, yet somehow airy, tones. 

In the face of the unexpected presence, you lock eyes with the source, a meeting that feels like a convergence of past and present, each heartbeat resonating with the electric charge surging through your body.

A nervous chuckle escapes you, the residue of your earlier determination dissipating in the charged air as you assess the man standing before you. 

His eyes, a deep and authoritative brown, lock onto yours, unraveling a silent narrative in their depths. Blonde and untamed, his long hair falls with a disheveled grace, framing a face that exudes both strength and mystery. His slender physique conceals well-defined, lean muscles beneath the snug embrace of a gray shirt, each contour subtly hinting at the strength within. Clad in blue denim jeans with artful rips at the bottom, and adorned with chunky western boots boasting intricate ornaments, he carries an aura of rugged elegance. 

“Can I help you?” he repeats, the query hanging in the air like an unspoken challenge. 

Crossing his arms over a torso that amplifies the definition of his biceps, his deliberate posture commands attention, drawing your gaze to the undeniable display of strength.

“I’m so sorry,” you quip nervously, a hint of self-awareness coloring your tone. Inwardly, you curse the fact that you were caught in the act of checking him out, and you’ve yet to acknowledge the man properly. “I’m looking for Jessi?”

A low, rumbling chuckle escapes the man, accompanied by a soft smile that carries a subtle mystique, rendering his eyes nearly elusive. 

“Who are you?” he inquires, his arms still defiantly crossed, and a flicker of realization dawns upon you—this interaction holds a peculiar tension. The awareness sets in that, in essence, you are an intruder, a stranger trespassing into the intimate space of a home that isn’t yours anymore. 

“I'm Jessi's sister,” you declare, a succinct introduction that hangs in the air. His response is a simple “Oh,” a word that resonates with a spectrum of unspoken sentiments. 

As his arms fall to his sides, his posture eases into a more relaxed stance, and his gaze, now unhindered by the barricade of crossed arms, traverses the contours of your figure. Your choice of attire—heels and a summer dress that daringly grazes your thighs—doesn't escape his notice. 

You sense his eyes lingering on your exposed legs for a beat longer than societal norms might deem appropriate.

You find yourself unapologetically appreciating his attractiveness, recognizing the allure that binds both of you in a silent dance of mutual fascination.

“You don't remember me?” 

His question pierces through the air, catching you off guard, and instinctively, you lean back against the countertop. A subtle shake of your head accompanies the inquiry, and as you witness a shadow of sadness flicker across his eyes, an unexpected weight sinks into the chambers of your heart. The unspoken question lingers—should you know this man?

“It's me, Jimin,” he asserts with a voice steeped in pride and certainty, a declaration that sets your mind into a whirlwind of attempted recollection. His name resonates with a familiarity that dances on the periphery of your memory, like an elusive wisp slipping through the cracks of forgotten moments. 

“Park?” 

You question with a voice that wavers in uncertainty, the mere utterance of the name carrying the weight of a fragile hope. As the word escapes your lips, you cling to the fragile threads of memory, desperately seeking confirmation that you've pieced together the puzzle of identity correctly.

“Yeah! Don't you remember? We played together when we were kids,” he chuckles warmly, the nostalgia of shared memories evident in his eyes.  

With a warm gesture, he invites you to take a seat, a silent acknowledgment of the intricacies of your shared history. As he crosses the room to the sink, a subtle limp marks his stride—a detail you keenly observe as you pull out a chair. Your curiosity about his altered gait tugs at your thoughts, begging for expression, yet you restrain the impulse, deeming it too forward. Silently, you observe him reaching for a glass from the overhead cabinet, pouring water with a practiced ease. 

“Here you go,” he offers, placing the glass before you. As you take it, your fingers brush momentarily, and an unexpected electric jolt courses through your body. You respond with a sheepish smile, expressing gratitude for the simple gesture. “Jessi is out riding; she'll be back soon.” 

You nod, the cool touch of the glass against your lips serving as a momentary distraction from the impending wait. As you take a measured sip of water, the realization sinks in — a quiet acknowledgment that the road back home may stretch longer than initially anticipated.

“I'm sorry about your mom,” he offers his condolences, and a palpable pain reflects in his eyes. The depth of his empathy hints at a connection with your mother that might surpass your own or perhaps, he carries the weight of loss in his own experiences. Regardless, you express gratitude, but as you do, a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders accompanies your words. “It's whatever,” you say, attempting to downplay the complexity of emotions that linger beneath the surface, yet the weight of grief echoes in the unspoken spaces between you.

He offers a minuscule smile, a mere flicker that fails to reach the depths of his eyes, and a subtle shift in the atmosphere becomes palpable. A quiet tension weaves through the kitchen, the air thickening with unspoken complexities. It's as if the very walls themselves have become sentient, closing in with a slow and deliberate intent, creating an immersive sense of confinement that mirrors the unexplored territories of emotions lingering between you and Jimin.

The rhythmic clank of boots announces her arrival before she materializes in the doorway — Jessi, a force of raw determination, a cascade of muttered curse words trailing in her wake. 

With an aura of purpose, she strides into the kitchen, a whirlwind of energy that disrupts the tension-laden air.

“Aren't you supposed to be working?” she demands, a subtle undercurrent of anger weaving through her voice as her gaze fixes on Jimin. 

You sense that you've slipped beneath her radar for now. Jimin responds with a casual chuckle, turning his head in your direction. In that moment, you feel the weight of her steel gaze bore into you.

You observe the subtle tensing of her body, her gaze meticulously scrutinizing every inch of you. Arms crossed defensively, she acknowledges your presence with a guarded stance. 

“Long time no see. What do you want?” The words, delivered with an edge that slices through the air, reverberate with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, embodying the complex web of emotions that intertwine your shared history.

Your lips involuntarily tighten, the already tense atmosphere escalating to an almost suffocating degree as Jessi's presence intensifies. A rhythmic tapping of her foot reverberates through the room, an erratic metronome that hints at a cocktail of emotions—perhaps nervousness, perhaps anger, the fine line between the two eluding your understanding. 

“The inheritance,” you utter, and a visible transformation sweeps over Jessi. Her countenance, already frosty, plunges into an even colder abyss. The pallor that washes over her skin accentuates the darkness of her brown, curly hair, transforming it into a cascade that seems to absorb the shadows of her perturbed soul.

A nervous gulp echoes in the charged silence, your attempt to fortify a wavering resolve. The mission is clear — secure her signature, liberate yourself, and sever the lingering ties. The weight of unspoken history and familial complexities hangs in the air, urging you to complete this fraught encounter, hoping that once the ink meets the paper, you’ll leave and never bother her again.

“I want to sell my share of the ranch. I just need your signature.”

The declaration hangs in the charged air, a revelation that sends a ripple through the room. Jimin tenses visibly, gaping in clear surprise at your bold proclamation. Your sister, on the other hand, is barely faring any better. The undercurrents of anger surge to the surface, a tempest of emotions that bobs precariously, threatening to breach the veneer of composure that barely holds. 

She hisses, the sound cutting through the charged silence like a serpent's warning, and grinds her teeth together with a simmering intensity. “You're not getting that,” she declares with a venomous resolve, the words laced with an unmistakable determination that resonates with the unyielding clash of wills in the room. 

The sternness and anger in her voice reverberate through the room, creating an invisible barrier. Undeterred, you summon a quiet resolve and press forward, attempting to cut through the emotional tempest that surrounds her. “I just need your signature, and then I can go,” your words, a delicate plea amidst the tumultuous clash of emotions, hang in the air, a fragile bridge between the chasm of familial discord and the resolution you seek.

She strides purposefully towards you, anger etching furrows into her brows. Coming to a halt just before your seated form, she looms over you with a fiery intensity in her eyes. 

“No. Get the fuck out,” she commands, the force behind her words reverberating in the charged space between you. The air crackles with the energy of unresolved conflicts, and her words hang in the air like a proclamation, leaving no room for negotiation.

Jimin's expression no longer holds surprise, his features now marked by a disapproving shake of his head. As Jessi retreats from you, turning with a storm brewing in her wake, the kitchen becomes an echoing chamber of unresolved tensions. She storms out, leaving you and Jimin in the wake of her departure, the remnants of conflict lingering in the air like an unspoken presence that refuses to dissipate. 

You clench your hands into tight fists, the physical manifestation of the internal turmoil that courses through you. The realization dawns, like a belated epiphany, that her vehement reaction was all but predictable. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, and you slump back into the chair, the weight of disappointment settling upon you like a shroud. This isn't unfolding as you had envisioned.

The wind whips through, mercilessly tossing your hair into a chaotic dance across your face. Grumbling, you navigate the exterior of the main house, entering a realm where nature and grandeur coalesce. The yard unfolds before you, a testament to meticulous care, stretching expansively with paddocks extending for miles. To the left, a substantial stable stands as a regal sentinel, while to the right, three cottages punctuate the landscape.

Your gaze sweeps across the panoramic expanse, capturing the undulating beauty of the paddocks that cascade over the hills while the sun slowly sets. Cows and horses graze lazily, mere dots in the vast canvas of the countryside. The scene unfolds before you like a living painting, each blade of grass, each creature contributing to the symphony of nature. Amidst this serene image, you find yourself standing at the crossroads of contemplation, pondering the labyrinth of decisions that now lay before you.

Jessi won’t give you her signature, and you need her damn ink on that paper to be able to sell your share of the ranch.

Maybe if you get on her good side, she’ll reconsider? It’s worth a try at least.

“Hi,” a lilting female voice disrupts the current of your thoughts, a melodic intrusion that yanks you back from the recesses of contemplation. Your pivot is swift, attention now redirected to the stranger who has materialized behind you.

Her hand extends gracefully towards you, a gesture that transcends the usual formalities. “I'm Soo-ah, one of the stable hands here,” she introduces herself with an easy confidence, her words resonating with a sense of belonging and familiarity within the expansive realm of the ranch.

“Ah, hi,” you muse with a soft smile, extending a handshake that bridges the gap between stranger and newfound acquaintance. Her stature is modest, a curvature of curves, with a disarming smile that reveals a charming imperfection in the form of endearing crooked teeth. Clad in short denim shorts adorned with delicate white lace on the trim and a pink tank top, she exudes an aura of comfort and warmth. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of blue, gleam with a radiance that speaks of love and hope, amplified by the contrast against her sun-kissed tan skin.

“Your trip didn't go according to plan?” she inquires, the gentle cadence of her question accompanied by the sweep of a hand, gracefully gathering her long blonde hair away from her face. 

A chuckle escapes you, accompanied by a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders, as you confess, “Not really.”

“You know, this place means a lot to Jessi. It's her home. She wouldn't want you to sell your share for some random people to buy it or worse, use the land for housing or something.” Her eyes mirror the softness of her words, and a gentle smile graces her lips, a gesture that carries an unexpected soothing effect on your conflicted heart. 

The weight of her words settles on your conscience, a realization you had secretly dreaded. You grasp the depth of your sister's emotional connection to this land, an affection you once shared but have since outgrown. The prospect of selling your share, allowing strangers to lay claim to the cherished homestead, unfolds before you, and you acknowledge why Jessi vehemently opposes it. Yet, your heart remains indifferent to the sentimental ties that bind others to this place. It ceased being home long ago, and the notion of it ever regaining that status in your life appears as elusive as a distant memory fading into the horizon.

“Say what. It's late, and dinner's almost ready. Why don't you come eat with us and meet the rest of the gang? After that, I'll show you one of the guest rooms!” Her invitation resonates with a contagious enthusiasm, her voice exuding a warmth that almost verges on giddy. The surge of energy she emanates feels almost overwhelming, a stark contrast to the subdued atmosphere that has accompanied your arrival.

“I haven't packed anything. I didn't plan on staying…” you mumble, your words trailing off into the evening breeze. Despite your half-hearted protest, she seizes your hand and playfully pulls you towards the main house. Reluctance threads through your steps, a tangible resistance to the unexpected detour that fate seems to be orchestrating. 

“There's a guest room in the house, and you can borrow some clothes from Jessi or me. Those heels and that dress aren't exactly farm-friendly attire.” She laughs, a melody of warmth that resonates through the short walk to the house. Soo-ah guides you to the guest room where you'll be spending the night, and then you both make your way to the kitchen. 

There, you encounter another enchanting presence—a statuesque woman, tall and slender, her ebony hair culminating at her neck. Her eyes, a captivating shade of incredibly dark brown, bordering on obsidian, stand out against her lovely fair white skin. Clad in a simple yet elegant ensemble of a dark t-shirt paired with dark blue denim jeans, she moves gracefully around the kitchen, orchestrating what appears to be a culinary feast in the making. 

“I'm Ha-rin.” A casual wave accompanies her introduction, a seamless dance of gestures as she deftly grabs a handful of vegetables with the other hand.

“This is Jessi's sister,” Soo-ah introduces you with a warm smile, and Ha-rin nods in a gesture that suggests a preexisting understanding. “How can we help?” she inquires, her words carrying a blend of genuine curiosity and an unspoken readiness to extend hospitality. 

“You can set the table. I'm almost done with the food,” she declares, seamlessly transitioning to the task of cutting carrots with a professional speed that leaves you duly impressed.

Soo-ah guides you to the location of plates and glasses, and in a synchronized dance, you both embark on setting the table in the dining room. The collaborative effort carries an unexpected warmth, a departure from the solitary routine you've grown accustomed to. The act of sharing this communal task conjures a sense of nostalgia; it's been a long time since you've partaken in such simple yet meaningful rituals. Your dining experiences have often been solitary, occasionally shared with a partner, although those instances are rare occurrences in the tapestry of your solitary meals.

In no time, Ha-rin completes the culinary masterpiece, presenting a spread of oven-cooked chicken, a colorful assortment of vegetables, and tantalizing kimchi. The table becomes a canvas adorned with the promise of a delectable feast. As you all take your seats, another presence joins the gathering—Ara, a tall woman with big brown eyes and chocolate-brown hair cascading gracefully over her shoulders. Her curves and paler skin distinguish her from Ha-rin, yet she radiates the same warmth that characterizes the group. 

The door swings open, and into the room strides your sister, a pronounced frown etching lines of disapproval on her face the moment her sharp eyes lock onto your figure seated at her dining table. 

“Didn't I tell you to leave?” Her voice cuts through the air, laden with an undeniable tension that hangs like a storm cloud, casting a shadow over the gathering. 

With an exasperated roll of your eyes, you confront the directness that has always characterized Jessi, even if it doesn't always come across as nice. “It's getting dark, and Soo-ah graciously provided me with a room for the night. I'm not leaving until I get your signature,” you assert, the declaration hanging in the air like an unyielding challenge. 

Jessi's voice carries a distinct air of deflation, and it becomes evident that obtaining her signature won't be a victory achieved tonight, if at all. Resigned, she takes her place at the head of the table, a silent acknowledgment of the impasse. 

A stretch of silence envelops the dining room as everyone engages in the act of eating, a temporary truce. However, the calm is shattered as Jessi, unable to contain her emotions any longer, erupts like a dormant volcano. “Why can't you just keep your share of the ranch, huh?” Her words punctuate the air, each question a stab to the atmosphere, accentuated by the forceful plunge of her fork into the unfortunate chicken.

“Honestly?” You draw in a deep breath, preparing for the verbal fallout, fully aware that you've stepped into a minefield. “I just need the money.” The words hang in the air, a stark admission that lays bare your motivations. Jessi's frown deepens, her disapproving expression not eliciting the slightest surprise from you. 

“Why can't you just buy my share?” The words escape you in a frustrated huff, irritation building with each passing moment. Jessi's ability to get on your nerves becomes increasingly evident, a skill she's always excelled at. 

“I don't have the money to buy you out,” she states bluntly, her voice carrying a mix of blankness and anger, turning the tension at the table sour. Your plate, once adorned with the delicious offerings crafted by Ha-rin, now sits neglected, the food losing its appeal in the wake of the strained conversation. What a shame, you think, as the beautifully prepared meal becomes a casualty of the familial clash, and your appetite dissipates like the vanishing aroma of an abandoned feast.

“Why are you so mad at me?” you sputter out in frustration, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to pull at your hair in exasperation. The room echoes with a tense silence, interrupted only by the subtle sound of your sister's scuff, a precursor to the deep inhale that precedes the unleashing of her fury upon you.

“I haven't seen you in twenty years. You stomp in here, wanting to take my home away from me. And you didn't even attend Mom's funeral. Some balls you have.” Her voice is stern, each word laced with venom, and her glare cuts through you like a knife. To punctuate her disapproval, she slams her hands down hard on the table. “I'm going to bed. Goodnight.” 

Then she stomps off. At least she has some manners, you think, acknowledging the begrudging ‘goodnight’ she offered. Nevertheless, you sigh, the rest of the girls casting pitiful glances in your direction.

You lean back in the chair, contemplating the daunting challenge of ever getting on your sister's good side. The prospect seems as elusive as catching a shooting star, an almost impossible mission. Just as you sink into the depths of your thoughts, Ara shatters your contemplation with a beaming smile. “We're having a party tomorrow. Won't you stay for that?”

You take a few seconds to mull over her offer: a party in the countryside does sound intriguing, but the prospect of extended time with a sister who harbors animosity towards you gives you pause. Soo-ah, sensing your hesitation, steps in with a persuasive grin, “There'll be hot men!”

Then, in an instant, thoughts of Jimin flood your mind, and the prospect of his presence at the party becomes a tantalizing factor. A glimmer of optimism flickers; perhaps attending won't be as unbearable as you initially thought. Contemplating the possibility of a good time, you decide, “Who can say no to that?”

A forced laugh escapes your lips, but within it, there's a hint of genuine enjoyment. Sometimes, you remind yourself, you have to fake it until you make it.

The barn pulsates with the rhythm of the music, a lively mix of country tunes, not exactly your preferred genre, yet the melodies weave seamlessly into the rustic ambiance. Couples and friends sway to the slow beats on the dance floor, creating an intimate atmosphere that, despite your initial reservations, feels oddly fitting. Most attendees linger along the walls engaged in conversation, and as your eyes scan the scene, you notice a handful of men. The girls weren't exaggerating – the company includes some undeniably attractive men.

The majority of women sport casual dresses, much like the one you've borrowed from Ha-rin. Clad in a long black lace dress that subtly accentuates your curves, you navigate the sea of familiar and unfamiliar faces. In stark contrast, Jessi's attire veers towards practicality – shirt, jeans and boots, a reflection of her enduring tomboyish nature. While you entertain a fleeting thought about the silliness of her choice for a party, a deeper understanding dawns. She’s always been more practical, and her choice of clothes tonight might align with that too. 

Surveying the lively scene again, your eyes lock onto your sister, deeply engrossed in a conversation with Jimin, an interaction that sparks both curiosity and a twinge of apprehension within you. 

As Ha-rin diligently tends to the culinary offerings, ensuring a variety of light snacks for everyone, Soo-ah and Ara steal the spotlight on the improvised dance floor. Their laughter echoes through the barn, a harmonious blend of joy and camaraderie, and you can't help but be drawn into the dynamic and diverse interactions unfolding around you.

Turning on your heels, a craving for the crisp embrace of fresh air seizes you. Opting for the subtlety of a quiet exit, you make your way toward the back door of the barn. The metallic touch of the door handle graces your palm with a forgiving chill, a stark departure from the warmth and vibrancy pulsating within. Pushing the door ajar, the night air rushes to greet your face, prompting a sigh of contemplation. 

However, as you step outside, your serenity shatters with a startle – a towering, muscular figure leans against the barn, arms crossed, waiting in the shadows of the night.

A startled yelp escapes your lips, accompanied by an inadvertent inhalation of lingering smoke in the air. The features of the stranger remain elusive, shrouded in the haze, as they release a deep and resonant chuckle in response to your momentary disarray. 

“Scaredy-cat?” he teases, the resonance of his laughter causing an animated jiggle through his entire upper body. Your gaze inadvertently drifts to his well-defined pectorals, emphasized by the snug fit of his ripped tank top. The exact hue of the fabric eludes you in the dim light, a mysterious darkness with a hint of, perhaps, deep blue.

You approach him, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance, though inwardly acknowledging the undeniable truth – you are indeed a scaredy-cat. Closing the distance, your eyes trace a path from his broad shoulders down his right arm, a canvas adorned with a full sleeve of tattoos. Among the intricate designs, some manifest in striking black and white, while others burst forth with vivid splashes of color, each telling a silent tale waiting to be unraveled.

Approaching him, you realize you've left his question hanging in the air. Coming to a halt in front of this enigmatic figure, you find yourself captivated by his deep, dark brown eyes. In the obscurity of the night, tiny glints of light echo the stars above, gleaming in his gaze. His pitch black long hair, with small curls at the end, frame his handsome face. Contrary to the rugged bulk of his body, his facial features exude a surprising softness. Thick, black eyebrows frame his expressive eyes, while a slim, pointed nose adds to the symphony of features. A sharp, defined jawline contrasts with the plushness of his rosy lips, gently circling a half-smoked cigarette.

“Jessi’s sister, huh?” He inhales deeply from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke that dances in the air beside you. 

“Y-Yes,” you stammer nervously, a feeble symphony to the deep timbre of his laughter. Nonetheless, you summon the courage to introduce yourself, your name a tentative melody lingering in the night air.

“I'm Jungkook.” He announces, the remnants of the cigarette meeting its demise beneath the sole of his boot, extinguishing any lingering embers. A subtle caution against the spark that could set the night ablaze.

“You look hot. Want to make out?” His gaze boldly traces over you, and a sudden self-consciousness grips you in the delicate embrace of your lace dress. Your cheeks ignite in a bright red flush, caught off guard by the unexpected boldness of his proposition.

Your flabbergasted expression seems to amuse him, and his laughter echoes, revealing an endearing smile that prompts a soft, airy chuckle to escape your lips in response.

“I'm serious, you know,” he says, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. Another blush creeps up on you at his bluntness. Initially thinking he was joking, you now realize he's actually serious. As you assess him, you can't deny his incredible attractiveness, coupled with a nice smile and soft eyes. Perhaps he can't be all bad, right?

You saunter closer, conducting a swift yet thorough assessment of him. With a teasing lick of your lips, you signal that you're up for the game. “Sure.”

In a bold surge, he captures your lips, biting down on your lower lip as if seeking entrance. Yielding to the magnetic pull, your tongues engage in a fiery dance. His hands firmly grip your shoulders, giving a reassuring squeeze before deftly maneuvering you against the wall.

In a ravenous and swift embrace, his lips claim yours, leaving you breathless when he breaks away, his gaze smoldering with a lustful intensity that ignites a fiery sensation beneath your skin. Though not one to engage in impulsive encounters, the intoxicating allure of the moment fans the flames of excitement within you. Reminding yourself of the imminent departure tomorrow, you boldly lean in, craving another taste, and surrender to the intoxicating dance of desire.

As the kiss deepens, his demeanor doesn't exude sweetness or tenderness, and strangely, you find solace in that. After all, tomorrow marks your return home. The intensity of his kiss, possessive and profound, spirals you into a mindless whirlwind, your thoughts dissipating into nothingness, overwhelmed by the feeling of his rugged frame pressed firmly against yours.

His gravelly voice breaks the kiss momentarily as he breathlessly declares, “Your lips are so damn soft.” 

Locking eyes with you, he plunges back into the intoxicating exchange, this time with an urgent and fervent intensity that mirrors his escalating desire, leaving little room for restraint.

Your fingers dig into the firm contours of his hips, tracing an electrifying path along the sculpted landscape of his toned body. The rhythmic play of his muscles beneath your touch is a tactile symphony, every ridge and sinew a testament to his strength, creating an intricate dance beneath the fabric of his shirt.

His lips embark on a tantalizing journey, lingering on your cheek with teasing kisses before reaching your ear. A low, guttural growl escapes his lips as he presses his pelvis against you, sending a bolt of electricity through your body. The warmth of his breath against your ear ignites a wildfire of sensations, and the undeniable presence of his arousal is impossible to ignore. Control slips away like sand through your fingers, and you find yourself succumbing to the irresistible pull of desire.

You bite down on your lips, the struggle to suppress a moan palpable. Despite the lively party unfolding just a breath away, Jungkook possesses an uncanny ability to whisk you into a world of his own creation, making the chaotic celebration fade into insignificance.

His hands explore the contours of your breasts, coaxing a soft moan from your lips. The absence of padding in your bra leaves your nipples immediately responsive to his teasing fingers. Sensations surge through you, and as your panties cling uncomfortably, an urgent desire to shed them intensifies.

His breath hot against your ear, he whispers, “I want to fuck you so bad, can I?”

The firm squeeze on your breasts sends a wave of desire through you. Fuck. The craving intensifies, and the anticipation of being with him grows insatiable. It's been an eternity since you felt this desire, and you're already on the edge, yearning for his touch.

Your response escapes in a breathy whisper, “Hell yes.” 

Your fingers find purchase on the contours of his chest, seeking stability amid the whirlwind of desire that envelops you both.

The symphony of desire crescendos as you catch the melodic jingle of his belt being undone, the tantalizing slide of metal against leather, and the whisper of a zipper surrendering its secrets. Soon, his jeans cascade down, pooling around his knees.

Your curiosity takes over, compelling you to cast an audacious gaze downward, and even through the fabric of his underwear, the impressive outline of his arousal is undeniable. The undeniable bulge hints at a restrained intensity, and summoning your courage, you boldly cup him, your touch sending a low, guttural groan reverberating through the charged air.

“Are you good to go without any prep?” His question, a tantalizing whisper in your ear, sends shivers down your spine, and the resonant, lust-laden timbre of his voice resonates deep within you. 

Nodding in affirmation, you can't help but bite your lip, feeling the promise of an exhilarating encounter ahead. “Yes,” you murmur, a breathy admission to the impending intensity.

As he lowers his underwear, his dick is unleashed, an impressive display of length and girth, veins tracing its sculpted form. The engorged head, flushed and intense, undergoes a few suggestive strokes from his skilled hands, droplets of precum glistening as they descend to the ground below.

His touch is commanding, fingers tracing a path down the contours of your dress, gathering the fabric in his strong grip. Swiftly, his hands venture beneath, reaching the apex of your panties. In one bold motion, he removes them, allowing them to cascade to the ground as you gracefully step out, shedding inhibitions along with the delicate undergarment.

Unexpectedly, he seizes your hips, effortlessly lifting you into the air. As you leap, your legs instinctively wrap around his tiny waist, aligning your bare core with his throbbing dick, a subtle gasp escaping your lips as your wetness coats his cock.

A soft moan escapes your lips at the tantalizing contact, and Jungkook, seizing the opportunity, grips your supple curves, pressing you firmly against the wall for stability. Skillfully, he produces a condom out of thin air, wraps his cock with it and positions his dick at the entrance of your eager pussy. Your hands instinctively clutch his neck, a mixture of anticipation and desire written across your face as you brace yourself for the impending ecstasy. With a devious smile playing on his lips, he tantalizingly teases the velvety folds of your cunt with the head of his cock. But the pretense of gentleness is short-lived, as he discards any lingering pleasantries and thrusts his dick into your warm and eager core in one seamless motion.

A gasp escapes your lips as an exquisite stretch engulfs you, momentarily testing your limits. Yet, the generous coating of your arousal ensures that the discomfort swiftly transforms into an intoxicating wave of pleasure, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake.

He moves with an urgency that suggests an impending deadline, setting a pace that mirrors a sense of immediacy, as if time is a luxury he can't afford. The reasons behind his haste remain a mystery, and in this moment, you find yourself indifferent to the ticking clock, wholly absorbed in the intensity of the present.

“Mmmhh. You’re so tight.” 

You gasp at the force of his thrusts, feeling the impact resonate through your body as your back collides with the wall. The slight discomfort is eclipsed by the overwhelming pleasure, and his raspy pants only intensify the raw, visceral connection between you, each movement a symphony of pleasure and urgency. He thrusts forcefully, plunging into the depth of your pussy.

Wrapping your legs around him, you greedily pull him closer, breathless huffs escaping your lips with each relentless thrust. “Yes! Right there!” The pleasure becomes almost blinding as he unerringly targets that sweet, sensitive spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure that build an exquisite tension, promising an impending climax that pulses in the depths of your core.

“Shit.” He pants huskily into your ear, a shiver running down your spine in response. The intensity of his thrusts is unparalleled, each powerful movement leaving an indelible mark on your senses. The realization hits you that tomorrow might bring soreness, but in the heat of the moment, with a dick this good, you decide it's a price worth paying.

Your moans have evolved into uninhibited symphonies, each thrust hitting that exquisite spot that sends shockwaves through your body. The coil in your tummy tightens, ready to snap, just waiting for that final nudge to propel you over the edge. “I’m so close.”

Jungkook's grip on your ass tightens, but with skilled precision, he frees one hand and navigates it down the narrow space between your bodies. Despite the limited room, his large hand finds your clit and begins to rhythmically rub it to the beat of his thrusts. The sensation is mind-blowing. Every rub and thrust unravel your body, sending waves of ecstasy through every inch of your being.

Then he leans in, his hot breath grazing your ear, and he moans, pushing you right over the edge, “Come on my cock, pretty.”

“Jungkook!” You pant his name erratically as the coil inside snaps, and you release your fluid over his cock, synchronized with his relentless thrusts. You gasp for air, momentarily feeling your vision blur as your orgasm surges through your spent body.

He keeps thrusting into you, and you feel utterly spent, so you’re just hanging on and clinging to him for dear life. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, closing your eyes as he relentlessly fucks you, searching for his own sweet release.

At a particularly hard thrust, you open your eyes, and they collide with a figure standing in the shadows. 

Brown eyes and blonde hair meet yours. 

You gulp, feeling your core clench instinctively. 

It's Jimin. 

His eyes reflect a mix of sadness and disappointment as they lock onto yours for a few lingering moments. He turns away and retreats back into the lively party. You don’t appreciate the unsettling expression on Jimin’s face, but there’s little you can do about it now. A strange and disconcerting feeling settles in your stomach.

“Fuck, you just got tighter, babe. I’m almost there.” His hands tighten their grip, his biceps flexing as he pulls you closer, syncing your movements with the intensity of his thrusts.

You sense Jungkook's thrusts growing more erratic, a telltale sign he's close. Despite his exhaustion, he strives to give his all in those final fervent moments, and you feel the warmth of his release filling the condom inside you as his pace slows. He's visibly breathless, and you empathize; after all, he exerted himself, utilizing every ounce of strength to keep you elevated. In his position, you'd likely be a panting mess on the ground.

“You good?” He inquires, scrutinizing your expression. Whether he discerns the melancholy etched on your face or not, he doesn't comment. Gently withdrawing from you and discarding the condom, he steadies you on shaky legs. You respond with a pensive smile and a nod. The night was undeniably enjoyable, yet Jimin's forlorn gaze lingers in your thoughts, casting a shadow over the post-passion atmosphere.

“I had a good time, thank you.” You muster a smile, though it feels a bit strained. Whether he perceives it or not is uncertain, and even if he does, you doubt it holds much significance to him.

“Same here. Thanks, babe.” His laughter rumbles as he rights himself, adjusting his underwear and fastening his pants. As he tends to his attire, you scan the floor for your abandoned panties.

As you retrieve them, you notice the dirt clinging to the delicate fabric, deciding against putting them on. Instead, you allow them to slip from your grasp, figuring you'll retrieve them tomorrow for a wash. The last thing you want is to flaunt dirty underwear at the party.

Jungkook strides confidently back into the lively party, and you trail closely in his wake, anticipation and a lingering heat coloring the air around you.

As you reenter the vibrant party scene, a sudden hush falls over the crowd, and the weight of all eyes on you feels like an invisible spotlight, making you wish for a momentary escape beneath the ground.

As you scan the crowd for Jimin, your gaze briefly collides with his, only to witness him quickly diverting his eyes elsewhere. 

A perplexing mix of emotions lingers in his gaze—perhaps hurt or frustration. Puzzled, you question the impact of your intimate encounter outside, contemplating why he might be affected when, by all accounts, you share no significant ties.

As you enter the dining room, the tempting aroma of Ha-rin's carefully prepared breakfast envelops you, offering a flavorful farewell before you embark on your journey back to the bustling city.

As you approach the table, a surprising sense of harmony fills the room, with everyone already seated, including Jessi, who appears to be in higher spirits—perhaps fueled by the knowledge that she’s getting rid of you today.

Soo-ah's eyes sweep the table, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she starts, “ I discovered a pair of lacy red panties outside the barn this morning.”

You nearly choke on your food, a sudden realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. “Shit. Those are mine. Completely slipped my mind. My bad.”

All eyes suddenly fixate on you, their curiosity palpable. Soo-ah's gaze is practically bulging out of her eyes, Ara looks equally stunned, and Ha-rin can't help but release an amused ‘ooohh.’ Even Jessi, with her usual nonchalant demeanor, can't completely hide the flicker of intrigue in her eyes as she rolls them at the unfolding gossip.

Curiosity and a mischievous glint spark in Ara's big brown doe eyes as she leans forward, her cheeks tinted with a hint of red, and pops the question, “Who did you fuck?”

Between casual bites of scrambled eggs, you drop the bombshell, “A guy named Jungkook. You know him?” The nonchalance in your tone does little to mask the intrigue dancing in your eyes, leaving the table hanging on your every word.

A heavy hush descends upon the table, and you scan the faces around you, perplexed by the sudden silence. Disapproval lingers in Jessi's slow shake of the head, while the exchange of disconcerting glances among the girls hints at a shared, unspoken concern.

“What’s wrong?” Concern etches your voice as you inquire, the subtle panic seeping through, unable to grasp the sudden tension enveloping the table.

Soo-ah leans in dramatically, her words hanging in the air like a heavy secret. “You fucked Jungkook,” she drawls, the gravity of her statement sinking in, and a chill coursing through your veins. “The same Jungkook who's been with half the town—Park Jungkook.” The weight of his name leaves you wide-eyed, a sinking feeling settling in your gut.

Your jaw practically hits the floor, or it would if that were humanly possible. Park? Jungkook and Jimin are brothers?

Fuck.

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 💜

Omg 🫢 How did you like the ending??? I hope you won’t be too mad… The fling with Jungkook only happens this one time, but necessary to happen for the rest of the story to make sense 🥲

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

[kingofbodyrolls]

Funny and smutty! Also, what is it about office romance that just hits differently? 🥵

good girl | kth

summary⇢ you don’t really know much about kim taehyung. what you do know is that he’s your handsome coworker and that, since you just accidentally sent him a nude, you’re good and royally fucked. pairing⇢ taehyung/reader word count⇢ 3.5k rating⇢ 18+ genre⇢ smut | office!au  warnings⇢ sexual content, pwp, dom!tae, taehyung wearing ties and glasses and just basically looking like a whole entire all-you-can-eat buffet, rough sex, cumplay, hair pulling, panty stuffing, improper tie use, i have no excuse for any of this except i was thoroughly in my feelings 😔

a/n⇢ maybe one day i’ll expand on this and make it an actual thing but right now i have no!!!patience for any sort of plot, i gotta get this outta my system 😭i apologize for this 😭mood is this song 😭

Keep reading

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

🐴Chapter summary: The wild horses are captivating creatures. You and Yoongi work together on gentling some of the wild horses, but when Jimin sees something that is truly harmless, but takes it the wrong way… well everything goes to shit.  🐴Chapter title: Wild Horses 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: hahahah, I’m sorry but we’re now approaching angst territory 🥲 This chapter is a lot about Yoongi, because he’s very important (as is almost every character in the story lol, but you’ll understand why later). And something happens that you’re probably gonna hate me for lol. I’m sorry in advance, but stuff has to happen this way for the good stuff to carry weight later (please trust the process!) ✨ 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 11k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld,

*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 💿 “Wild Horses” by Natasha Bedingfield. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: this chapter was tough for me to write, mostly because of the angst. I’m not that good with that, but I’m really trying to do better with angst. Something happens in this chapter that I think you won’t like, but please remember that Jimin and reader are the main pairing and I have promised a happy ending, okay? There’s just gonna be some angst along the way lol, I’m preparing you now, so buckle up! I really hope you still like it! 💜 

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

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

“Wild horses I want to be like you Throwing caution to the wind, I’ll run free too Wish I could recklessly love like I’m longing to I want to run with the wild horses Run with the wild horses” - ’Wild Horses’ by Natasha Bedingfield

As you race across the expansive field, the towering mountains providing a breathtaking backdrop, the thrill of galloping with the wind in your hair never fails to captivate you. En route to the Bell Ranch to speak with Yoongi, you grant Marshmallow the freedom to sprint at full gallop, hooves digging into the earth, creating a dust storm that billows in your wake.

Marshmallow’s powerful gallop sets the rhythm for your heart, the exhilaration of freedom courses through your veins. The wind becomes a playful dance partner, tousling your hair and causing it to cascade behind you, yet obediently secured under the brim of your trusty cowboy hat. 

The expanse between the Bora Ranch and the guys’ territory proves surprisingly brief as always, and the vibrant landscape of their ranch unfolds before you. 

Urging Marshmallow into a spirited gallop, you cover the ground swiftly, drawing nearer to the bustling yard. The rhythmic gallop propels you towards the lively scene in the yard, where Yoongi is engrossed in his work with a horse in a pen. As Marshmallow intuitively senses the approaching enclosure, his pace decelerates, and a soft whinny escapes him, signaling a seamless transition from a spirited gallop to a gentle, deliberate walk.

Bringing Marshmallow to a halt, you gracefully swing your leg over his back and plant your feet firmly on the ground. With practiced ease, you secure the reins, fastening them securely to the fence surrounding the pen where Yoongi is deeply engrossed in his work.

“Hey, Yoongi!” you call out with a bright smile, waving enthusiastically as you drape yourself over the fence, captivated by the sight of him completely absorbed and engrossed in his work.

He acknowledges you with a subtle nod, a gentle smile playing on his lips as a majestic brown horse gracefully circles him, moving with a natural grace, all without a halter to guide its steps.

You linger there, a silent observer to his craft. The rhythmic dance between Yoongi and the horse unfolds before you—the majestic creature, occasionally curious, edges closer to him, a testament to the unspoken bond between man and horse.

In a mesmerizing dance of trust and connection, the horse inches ever closer to Yoongi, a silent understanding weaving between them. The minutes pass, and you find yourself breathless as the magnificent creature, once wary, now stands still before him, its head bowed low in quiet reverence. The profound bond between man and horse unfolds before your eyes, leaving you spellbound by the unspoken language they share.

In a breathtaking display of trust, the horse tenderly presses its head against Yoongi’s chest, a profound connection resonating in the air. A deep exhale escapes the majestic creature, harmonizing with the gentle strokes of Yoongi’s hand as he caresses its forehead, forging a silent pact of understanding and companionship.

Mesmerized by the enchanting dance between Yoongi and the horse, you can’t help but release a soft “Wow.” 

His ability to forge a profound connection with the majestic creature leaves you in awe, a silent yearning echoing within you, wishing you possessed such profound skills.

His eyes twinkle with a warm smile, a shared moment of understanding passing between you two. A gentle chuckle escapes his lips as he leads the horse effortlessly towards the gate, the majestic creature following his every step willingly, a testament to the remarkable bond they share. The word incredible echoes in your mind, witnessing Yoongi’s innate connection with these magnificent animals.

Breaking the serene atmosphere, he finally speaks when he reaches you, his voice carrying a subtle warmth, “Hi.” 

With practiced ease, he opens the gate, guiding the horse out as if orchestrating a dance between man and horse.

As he strides past you, effortlessly guiding the brown horse toward the barn without a tether, he casually mentions, “I’ll be back in a moment.” Acknowledging him with a nod, you divert your attention to Marshmallow, tenderly patting his neck while observing Yoongi’s innate connection with the majestic creature.

With the horse comfortably settled in its stall, Yoongi strides back towards you, donning his cowboy hat and sturdy boots, a subtle swagger in his step that mirrors the newfound confidence you’ve gained since acquiring your own pair of boots.

Yoongi leans casually against the fence, his gaze meeting yours as he asks, “What’s up?”

Your eyes widen with fascination as you inquire, “Was that a wild horse?” Your curiosity about his intriguing line of work reflects in both your voice and expression.

His eyes light up with pride as he responds, “Yeah, I’ve been working on her for some time; she’s almost ready to become a stock horse.” 

You join him in turning around, casting your eyes over the paddocks where the cattle graze, sharing in the satisfaction of a job well done.

“Why do you catch wild horses? I’ve been curious about that ever since Jimin mentioned it,” you ask, your words tumbling out a bit hastily. A touch of nerves lingers, although you can’t quite fathom why. After all, it’s just Yoongi.

He offers a slight smile. “They’re a menace,” he shrugs nonchalantly, and you shoot him a quizzical look. How can he label those magnificent creatures as anything other than beautiful?

He chuckles at your slightly frantic state. “For one, they have a knack for wreaking havoc on the property, and two, the stallions occasionally swoop in, daringly stealing our mares.”

You give him a nod, feigning understanding of the issue, yet deep down, you’re puzzled. Your sister has never shared this concern before. Could this be the reason they don’t let the wild horses roam freely?

“So we catch some of them and gentle them into reliable working horses,” he explains with an enigmatic gleam in his eyes, as if his gaze conceals something profound, yet elusive, leaving you intrigued but uncertain about the hidden depths.

“That’s fascinating. Do Jimin or Jungkook ever lend a hand with your wild horse endeavors?” you inquire, a lively grin accompanying your question as you pivot to affectionately pat Marshmallow once more.

“Ah, they’re usually tied up with their own stuff. Although, Hoseok does jump in from time to time,” he replies with a grin, and there’s a subtle flicker in his eyes when he mentions Hoseok.

“Too bad they’re busy, but I’ve been thinking, maybe I could lend a hand. It looks like a fascinating and enjoyable experience,” you offer with an eager smile, despite your lack of knowledge about wild horses and the process of taming them.

“You’re welcome to help me. We can even go for a ride right now and see if we can find the herd, just to look at them. No catching today,” he says, chuckling. As his warm brown eyes twinkle with an indescribable gleam, you feel a magnetic pull toward the upcoming adventure.

“Absolutely!” you exclaim with excitement, swiftly unfastening Marshmallow’s reins from the fence. You join Yoongi, walking in tandem towards the barn where he prepares a horse for the upcoming adventure. The air is charged with anticipation, and the rhythmic sounds of hooves echo the promise of a thrilling ride.

You stride into the barn with Marshmallow, the atmosphere filled with the earthy scent of hay and the distant sounds of horses. Observing Yoongi, you note his skilled selection of a brown horse adorned with a sleek black mane and tail. With fluid precision, he secures a saddle and bridle, effortlessly mounting the horse. His actions exude a quiet confidence, leaving you eager to embark on this equine adventure with him.

“Let’s go then,” he muses, a twinkle of anticipation in his eyes. You smoothly mount Marshmallow, ready to join him in a rhythmic trot around the expansive North paddock of the Bell Ranch. 

The air carries the promise of adventure, and the rhythmic hoofbeats echo a harmonious melody, creating an atmosphere filled with the thrill of the unknown.

Atop the hill, you unleash your horses into a spirited gallop, immersing yourself in the breathtaking beauty of the land. The lush green grass stretches beneath you, while majestic hills and distant mountains paint a picturesque panorama. The rhythmic beat of hoofs kissing the grass orchestrates a symphony that resonates in your ears, and your heart dances with exhilaration, each thud echoing the thrill of the moment.

Allowing Yoongi to take the lead, you entrust him with setting the pace, confident in his knowledge of where the elusive herd of wild horses is likely to roam.

“This way. This is where I spotted them last,” he deftly guides his horse to the right, and you follow suit in a slow, measured gallop, the anticipation building with each stride.

After a bit more riding, you reach a clearing through some bushes, and there, before you, the herd of wild horses comes into view. They look absolutely magnificent and exude a magical aura that captures your breath.

They graze casually, and both you and Yoongi have brought your horses to a slow walk, now standing still, fully immersed in the captivating sight of the wild horses before you.

“They’re so beautiful,” you murmur in a hushed tone, captivated by the scene unfolding before you. Yoongi, sharing in the enchantment, nods silently with a smile gracing his lips.

Then, amidst the grazing herd, you catch sight of it—a pitch-black horse, its coat glistening like obsidian in the sunlight. Its eyes, as dark as the night, reflect an ethereal beauty. The sun’s rays play upon its sleek coat, turning it into a cosmic spectacle that leaves you in awe. 

Wow, it’s beautiful.

An inexplicable yearning stirs within you, drawn to that singular horse. Amidst the entire herd, none captivates your attention like the majestic black horse. 

“The black horse is absolutely stunning,” you murmur in a breathless voice, utterly mesmerized by its beauty.

“It is a stunning mare indeed,” he smiles and adds, “maybe we can catch it next time.”

You return his smile, uncertainty lingering within you. The notion of capturing such a majestic creature tugs at your conscience – after all, aren’t wild horses destined to roam the vast expanse of freedom?

As the sun sets on another day, you find yourself back at the Bell Ranch, ready to lend a hand to Yoongi’s tireless efforts in transforming wild spirits into reliable working companions.

It’s enthralling to observe his technique; he operates in silence, an oasis of calm, patiently anticipating the horse’s subtle cues, waiting for that moment when it chooses to connect with him willingly, without coercion.

“Do you want to come and try?” His unexpected question catches you off guard, but a nod of agreement escapes your lips. You gracefully climb over the fence into the pen where he’s immersed in his work, ready to try your hand at the artistry of connecting with these untamed creatures.

Your voice carries a hint of nervous excitement as you inquire, “What should I do?” 

The untamed beauty of a wild horse gracefully circles the outer ring of the pen, seemingly oblivious to your presence, and you can’t help but feel a surge of anticipation for the challenge ahead.

As Yoongi imparts his wisdom, he stresses, “The key is earning the horse’s trust. You have to show it that you’re trustworthy.” Absorbing his words, you nod in agreement, ready to embark on the journey of building a connection with the wild creature before you.

“How?” you question, a spark of wonder in your eyes, acknowledging the challenge that lies within the seemingly simple yet profound advice.

“You just have to be consistent in your actions. Don’t let nerves or fear cloud your presence. Be calm, attentive, and just exist in the moment,” he imparts, a casual shrug underscoring the simplicity of his advice, though the weight of its truth lingers in the air.

You observe the horse gracefully navigating the pen, its pace gradually easing into a leisurely stroll.

“I believe in patience and presence. I dedicate substantial time to be with the horse, letting it get to know me, building trust,” he remarks, his gaze fixed on the horse. “There’s a considerable investment in time before I even think about introducing a saddle to the equation.”

Nodding in agreement, you consciously steady your heartbeat. His advice echoes in your mind, urging you to shed the lingering nervousness, and you make a conscious effort to dismiss the slight unease settling within.

As he imparts his wisdom, Yoongi gestures toward the chestnut horse leisurely strolling within the pen, a familiar presence from his earlier endeavors. “I prefer letting the horse choose to come to me, to form that crucial connection. Once it ’joins up,’ a silent understanding unfolds, a testament to the trust we’ve built. Only then do I progress to more intricate training,” he reveals, his eyes focused on the equine companion he’s guided through this intricate dance before.

“I’ve devoted considerable time to this mare,” Yoongi shares, casting a fond gaze at the equine companion that has shared in the nuances of their bond. “Even though she has joined up with me multiple times, I find solace in revisiting the fundamentals.” He gestures toward the mare, a living canvas of equine tranquility. 

As you observe, the horse moves with an easy grace, its body language a symphony of relaxation and curiosity. At times, it directs a glance in your direction, an unspoken invitation to engage, before returning to a rhythmic exploration along the fence line. 

The overall demeanor is one of serene calm, a testament to the enduring connection fostered through patient dedication.

Your eyes gleam with newfound understanding, a smile playing on your lips as you seek clarification. “So the secret is to patiently wait for the horse to come to you?”

He chuckles, his laughter carrying the warmth of shared wisdom. “Not much of a secret, but it all boils down to patience, trust, and a bit of loyalty,” he confesses.

You flash a smile his way. “So, how long does it typically take for you to work your magic and gentle a horse?”

He lifts his hat, running a hand through his silver hair before settling it back in place. “Each horse is a unique case, so I don’t measure success by the clock. Some might quickly ’join up’ with me, while others are more complex. Horses, like humans, have their distinct personalities.”

You nod in agreement, recognizing the intricate nature of horses, almost as complex as humans. A soft chuckle escapes you, appreciating the way Yoongi speaks of the wild horses, as if they’re cherished friends in his world.

Your gaze shifts to the brown mare, curiosity lighting up your eyes. “Since you’ve already ’joined up’ with this one, what’s the next step in her training?” you inquire, eager to delve deeper into the fascinating world of horse gentling.

His eyes gleam with anticipation as he outlines the next steps in the horse’s training journey. “After establishing trust, I’ll gradually introduce her to the ranch environment—ropes, familiar noises, and gear on her back through gentle massages,” he explains, his voice tinged with hope. “Once she’s comfortable, I’ll proceed to the saddle and bridle, paving the way for the ultimate test—riding. But only when I’m certain she’s fully prepared.”

As you observe the mare approaching, curiosity twinkling in her eyes, you can’t help but smile. “It sounds like quite a journey, but I sense it’s a rewarding one,” you remark, your voice filled with genuine curiosity and anticipation, mirroring the mare’s gradual approach.

His words resonate with a warmth that matches his infectious smile. “You gain a friend for life,” he shares, his gummy grin embodying the depth of connection forged through this intricate process.

As the mare inches closer, a magnetic connection pulls you both into a silent communion. You turn your head slightly toward Yoongi, watching in awe as the graceful creature approaches him, gently resting its head against his back. 

A deep sigh escapes the mare, and with a deliberate nudge, it pushes Yoongi forward, creating an unspoken bond that transcends the boundaries between man and horse.

Chuckling softly, he remarks, “She’s feeling a bit playful,” and turns around to tenderly caress the brown mare’s forehead.

As laughter escapes you, you marvel at the scene unfolding before you— the horse nuzzling deeper into Yoongi’s embrace. The profound trust and loyalty displayed in that simple gesture brings a radiant smile to your face.

As the distant sound of hoofbeats serenades your ears, your attention subtly shifts towards the source. A thrilling anticipation grips you, and even before your eyes meet the approaching spectacle, an instinctive certainty tells you—the wild horses are drawing near.

In their untamed grace, those wild horses emerge on the horizon, a breathtaking tapestry of freedom. Their beauty, an untethered symphony, etches itself into your soul. Despite Yoongi’s pragmatic warnings of their wild nature, your heart steadfastly champions their unrestrained beauty and the allure of their untamed spirit.

As the majestic herd gallops across the distant hill, your eyes are drawn to the obsidian grace of the black mare. Strange flutters of anticipation dance within your stomach, and Yoongi catches your gaze, sensing the magnetic pull that the mysterious creature exerts on your senses.

With a glint of curiosity in his eyes, Yoongi continues to tenderly pat the brown mare, and he turns to you with a question that sparks excitement, “Do you want to try and catch the black mare?”

Your gaze locks onto Yoongi, eyes widening with unbridled enthusiasm. Is it even a question?

The desire to capture that elusive black mare courses through your veins, even as a part of you acknowledges its wild spirit. There’s an inexplicable connection, a yearning in your heart for a creature that defies easy description. 

It beckons to you, and you’re eager to answer its untamed call.

“We can certainly try,” you declare in a breathy voice, uncertainty mingling with excitement. The prospect of capturing that magnificent black mare hangs in the air, and though doubts linger, the anticipation of a thrilling ride fuels your determination.

With practiced finesse, Yoongi guides the brown mare out of the pen, seamlessly maneuvering it into its stall within the barn. Meanwhile, he deftly prepares his own horse, his movements deliberate and skilled, as you eagerly saddle up on Marshmallow, ready for the adventure.

Side by side, you and Yoongi charge towards the spot where the wild horses disappeared, the thundering hooves creating a symphony of freedom. The wind playfully teases your hair beneath your hat, adding a touch of exhilaration to the chase. Each gallop echoes with the rhythm of nostalgia, transporting you back to carefree days of childhood joy, and you wholeheartedly embrace the familiar melody of hoofbeats resonating through the hills.

Swiftly closing the distance, you and Yoongi seamlessly join the graceful dance of the wild horses, riding in tandem as if becoming one with the spirited herd.

“We’ll try and separate the black mare from the rest, okay?” Weaving through the thundering hooves, Yoongi’s voice pierces the rhythmic beat of galloping, a plan forming between you as you both flank the herd, aiming to isolate the enigmatic black mare from the wild symphony surrounding her.

Navigating the thundering hooves, your focus sharpens on the elusive black mare, a dance of determination and wild grace. As the herd courses through the terrain, a corridor of trees emerges, and with a masterful maneuver, Yoongi surges ahead, skillfully severing the ebony beauty from the chaotic canvas of the herd.

Now, in the quiet aftermath of the thundering herd, the black mare stands solitary between you and Yoongi, a majestic silhouette against the fading echoes of the retreating wild horses. The air is charged with a sense of captured freedom, and you can feel the pulse of anticipation building between you and the untamed beauty before you.

Amidst the stillness, Yoongi’s voice cuts through like a soothing melody, “Steady.” 

His hands move with practiced precision, gliding down to the rope coiled at his saddle. In a fluid motion, he unfastens it, the rope dancing gracefully in the air above the ebony beauty standing before you.

In a surprising dance of trust, the mare offers only mild resistance as the rope gracefully settles into a loose circle around its neck. With a calm assurance, Yoongi guides his horse to a halt and approaches the black mare from horseback, step by deliberate step.

His soothing words weave through the air as Yoongi approaches the black mare, a promise of care and understanding. “It’s alright,” he assures, the resonance of his voice echoing a commitment to nurture and protect the newfound connection with the wild beauty before him.

Spellbound by Yoongi’s expertise, you marvel at the seemingly effortless capture of the black mare, a moment etched with both surprise and admiration for his skill in bridging the gap between untamed freedom and the prospect of gentle companionship.

Grinning with a mix of disbelief and triumph, you exclaim, “Well, that felt surprisingly easy,” relishing the moment where the reality of capturing the wild black mare settles in, leaving you in awe of your own accomplishment.

Guiding his horse into a slow trot, Yoongi glances at you and adds, “It isn’t always this smooth,” as he skillfully leads the black mare by the rope, a testament to the unpredictable nature of working with wild horses.

As you ride back to the Bell Ranch at a leisurely pace, the black mare in tow, anticipation courses through you. The prospect of working with the wild beauty, attempting to forge a connection as Yoongi does, fills you with eagerness and a hopeful determination. The challenge ahead, mingled with the thrill of the unknown, propels you forward.

As the ranch unfolds before you, Yoongi guides you to a spacious paddock. “We’ll release her here, let her experience a taste of freedom within these boundaries,” he explains. 

“We can commence our efforts to connect with her tomorrow or the day after. Allowing her this time will help her acclimate.” 

The thoughtful approach to the black mare’s transition into her new surroundings speaks volumes about the patience and care that defines Yoongi’s approach to his work with these wild spirits.

As Yoongi opens the gate to the paddock, you nod in understanding. Approaching the black mare, he expertly removes the rope from its neck with a gentleness that seems to convey a silent understanding. The mare remains serene throughout the entire process, a testament to the trust beginning to bloom between human and horse, captivating you with its silent beauty.

“Go on,” encouragingly, Yoongi gestures to the horse, and with a sudden burst of energy, the black mare leaps into a swift gallop. It bucks playfully, its powerful strides carrying it effortlessly towards the awaiting company of horses within the enclosure, a breathtaking display of freedom and untamed spirit.

Gratitude fills your voice as you express, “Thank you for capturing it.” You turn toward Yoongi, a warm smile of satisfaction lighting up your face. The joy of successfully corralling the black mare radiates from you, making the moment even more meaningful.

“No problem,” his response carries a friendly assurance, accompanied by a smile that lingers in the air. Together, you pivot, ensuring the gate clicks shut behind you, sealing in the triumphant atmosphere of your joint accomplishment.

As you savor the refreshing embrace of ice-cold water on the terrace, your sister joins you, gracefully claiming the adjacent chair.

You meet her gaze, an unspoken tension lingers in the air, and you instinctively adjust your posture in the chair, sitting taller, ready to listen to the words she’s about to share.

Her fingers thread through the tousled strands of her hair, a subtle sign of unease that sends a ripple of tension through the air. A thoughtful expression crosses her face as she breaks the silence, delving into the delicate topic. “I’ve been thinking about the inheritance,” she begins, and the gravity of her words hangs in the air. “You considered selling it for financial reasons, right?”

Her unexpected revival of the topic catches you off guard, and your eyes widen imperceptibly. “You’re right,” you admit, a touch of vulnerability in your voice. “Financial strain was indeed a factor in considering the sale.”

Her inquiry is direct, and you can sense the underlying concern in her eyes. “So, what’s the situation now? Do you still find yourself in need of money?” she leans in, her expression tinged with a hint of discomfort, acknowledging the sensitivity of the topic.

“No, I actually don’t,” no longer tethered by financial constraints, you respond with a reassuring smile, gently tracing the rim of your chilled cup. The unrelenting heat persists, making the solace of ice-cold refreshments all the more enjoyable.

Her expression morphs into one of confusion, a visible question mark etched on her face, signaling her inability to grasp the underlying meaning of your words.

Chuckles escape you as you take a refreshing sip of water, then leaning in across the table, your eyes alight with excitement. “I’ve been selling my paintings,” you reveal, the joy evident in your voice. “Capturing the essence of the ranch and the breathtaking nature around it has sparked a high demand. Surprisingly, I’ve raked in a considerable sum even before returning to the ranch.”

Jessi’s jaw drops momentarily, but soon her features transform into a mix of astonishment and pride. “Wow, I’m genuinely proud of you!”

Gratitude fills your smile as you respond, “Thank you,” basking in the warmth of her compliment.

A shadow of concern lingers in her eyes as she confesses, “I was getting worried you might still sell your share due to money problems…” Her gaze briefly drops to the ground before lifting, locking onto yours. “But I’m relieved that isn’t the case.”

You shake your head, a determined smile playing on your lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll never sell it. We agreed to do this together, right? Sisters running the ranch and all. Our legacy, our story.”

Her face lights up, a radiant smile stretching across her features as she emphatically nods in agreement, a silent understanding passing between you.

In the realm of childhood dreams, this reality surpasses every fleeting vision. Rediscovering the bond with your sister, the slow unraveling of shared memories, has proven to be an unexpectedly enchanting journey, far beyond the scope of your youthful imagination.

“Ease into the moment, let the rhythm of patience guide you,” Yoongi murmurs, a soft smile playing on his lips. As the ebony mare gracefully weaves circles around you in the pen, he offers sagely advice, “Today may not be the day of readiness, but that’s part of the journey. Stand your ground, let her spirit unfurl, and witness the magic unfold,” he continues, standing by your side in silent camaraderie.

Implementing Yoongi’s wisdom proves to be a formidable challenge; impatience pulses through your veins as you yearn for an instantaneous connection with the mare. Despite the echoing reminder that patience is the key, a fervent desire to befriend her lingers within you, creating a delicate dance between restraint and eagerness.

As the mare gracefully trots around, a surge of connection prompts you to share, “I’ve given her a name.”

His chuckle resonates beside you as he inquires, “You’ve already given her a name?”

With unwavering certainty, you announce, “Yeah. I’m calling her Mikrokosmos,” your voice carrying a trace of affection for the newfound companion.

Curiosity lighting up his eyes, he inquires, “That’s a cool name, what made you think of that?”

“I just thought she looked like the deep black night sky and space, as if she’s her own universe,” you muse, a small laugh dancing in your voice.

He smiles warmly and chuckles, “Well, it’s cute.”

You chuckle, feeling the impatience gradually dissipate, your shoulders easing into a more relaxed state. Mikrokosmos continues her lively dance, her nose flaring as she snorts audibly, thoroughly examining the fence and her surroundings with a mix of curiosity and untamed energy.

Yoongi pivots to meet your gaze, his expression a curious blend of emotions—is it pain or something else? Without a clear answer, he leans in, encroaching upon your personal space. Surprisingly, you don’t mind; after all, you’re friends. 

Your attention shifts beyond him, catching sight of Jimin strolling from the ranch. A smile graces his lips as he approaches, and you reciprocate with a soft smile, a sense of giddiness washing over you at the prospect of reconnecting with him after a few days of silence.

Your assumption that Yoongi is leaning in for a friendly hug causes you to gradually envelop him in your arms. Unexpectedly, his face inches closer to yours—not in the platonic manner of a hug. 

Suddenly, his lips meet yours, jolting you into a state of bewilderment, shock, and momentary paralysis.

Shock floods your widened eyes, and Jimin’s gaze mirrors the distaste and anger you feel. Hurt emanates from his eyes, causing your heart to plummet. The ground beneath seems to liquefy, dragging you into a pool of dismay. Yoongi’s unexpected kiss is not welcomed, not when you don’t harbor romantic feelings for him. Reacting swiftly, you push him away, your own eyes revealing a mix of hurt and anger. But as you prepare to address the situation, you catch Jimin turning away, retreating towards the ranch.

Fuck.

Jimin’s displeasure is palpable, a mirrored reflection of your own sentiments. Desperate to convey that the unexpected kiss held no significance, that it wasn’t your intention, your legs propel you toward the fence. Scaling it with urgency, you leave Yoongi and Mikrokosmos to their own devices, racing after Jimin. The wind whistles in your ears, and your heart pounds, driven by the fervent need to bridge the gap between you and Jimin, to unravel the misunderstanding that threatens to shatter the fragile threads of whatever you had going between you.

“Jimin!” Your plea slices through the air, racing to catch up with him. The yard looms ahead, but he remains elusive, navigating the space on his limping leg. Each step feels like a chasm widening between you, a silent testament to the unintended chaos wrought by an unwelcome kiss. 

Breathless, you catch up with him, seizing his strong arm and urgently turning him toward you. “Jimin, it’s not what it seems—I need to explain!” The words tumble out, a cascade of sincerity, as you strive to convey the complexity of the moment, hoping to bridge the gap that has abruptly widened between you.

He halts abruptly, an aura of seething anger radiating from him like palpable waves of heat. His voice drips with venom as he accuses, “You kissed Yoongi.”

Your desperate explanation spills forth, the words rushing out like a cascade of untamed emotions. “No, I didn’t! He kissed me, and I didn’t want that. It meant nothing, okay?” Your heart pounds fiercely, echoing the thunderous hooves of a thousand wild horses. It’s suffocating; each breath feels like a struggle. 

You yearn for Jimin to grasp the misunderstanding, to understand that you’re as bewildered as he is. The haunting question lingers in your mind: Why the fuck did Yoongi kiss you?

He’s a stark contrast to his usual self; anger consumes him, his breaths quick and labored, and every muscle in his body appears ready to burst with tension.

In those silent moments, he stands like a formidable statue, his thoughts shrouded in mystery. The air around him crackles with anger and disappointment, emotions that hang heavily between you, palpable yet elusive.

Exhaling a deep and frustrated sigh, he visibly attempts to ease the tension in his body, his words carrying an air of indifference, “I don’t care.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief; this wasn’t the reaction you anticipated. While understanding his anger, you had hoped for a chance to discuss it. His face reflects a mix of pain and fury, prompting you to reach out for his arm again. However, the moment your fingers make contact, he flinches, taking a step back as if your touch stings.

It feels as though your touch seared him, igniting a reaction that sends a pang of guilt through you. Desperate to convey that it meant nothing, you yearn to reassure him, yet his unwillingness to listen leaves you grappling with the weight of unspoken words.

His words cut through the air, laden with a hurt that goes beyond the surface. “You’re always into everybody else. It’s never me. I’m never the one,” he utters, his voice heavy with a profound ache. Each word feels like an anchor, dragging you into a sea of emotional turmoil, where you’re left drowning in the depths of his unspoken pain.

The ache lingers, his words a sharp sting that resonates through your being. In that poignant moment, you find yourself paralyzed, the words you long to express caught in the web of your emotions. You yearn to convey that he is the one, the orchestrator of the symphony that makes your heart resonate with love and purpose. Yet, the words remain elusive, trapped within the confines of your unspoken sentiments. 

Why won’t they surface when you need them the most?

A torrent of tears threatens to spill from your eyes, and an overwhelming urge to scream builds within you as you witness him walking away, heading towards his house. Yet, your legs betray you, frozen in place as if your feet have fused with the very ground beneath you, rendering you immobile in the wake of your tumultuous emotions.

In a desperate attempt to bridge the widening gap between you, your hand stretches out, aching to grasp onto him. Your voice, a strangled plea, escapes your lips, echoing through the thin air, while tears carve rivers down the contours of your cheeks.

As he reaches for the doorknob, a profound moment unfolds. His gaze, once filled with a lively spark, now appears vacant. His complexion pales, a deep frown etches his features, and the hurt in his eyes sends unsettling tremors through your stomach, as if threatening to unleash a wave of nausea.

The door slams shut, echoing a resounding finality that leaves you hollow. 

Your heart constricts, a blend of hurt and sadness flooding through you. Each breath feels slightly labored as you gather the strength to decide whether to confront Jimin once more or turn to Yoongi, demanding an explanation for what the fuck that kiss was about.

You comprehend Jimin’s anger and hurt, yet it was merely a kiss, and you’ve conveyed this to him. Why won’t he lend an ear to your explanation? It’s just a damn kiss. Why does this particular incident shatter him, especially when he’s aware of your past involvement with his brother?

Sensing Jimin’s reluctance to engage in conversation, you let out a sigh, realizing it might be wiser to allow him some time to cool off before attempting to discuss the matter further. Despite having emphasized to him that the kiss was not intentional and stemmed from a misunderstanding, you can’t help but wonder if he truly absorbed your words.

As you release another heavy sigh, the weight on your shoulders seems to lift slightly, and you turn your body toward Yoongi. In this moment of emotional turbulence, with your world feeling like it’s flipped upside down, you resolve to address the issue with Jimin later, once he’s had time to cool off. There’s a determination in your heart to explain, to make him understand that he is undeniably the one who holds a special place in your heart.

Returning to the pen with Mikrokosmos and approaching Yoongi, there’s a palpable tension in the air, both within you and emanating from him. As you ascend the fence, gracefully landing on the sandy ground of the pen, Mikrokosmos continues her playful trot around. You decide to let her roam freely for the moment, turning your attention to the visibly apprehensive Yoongi.

Your hand shoots up, accusatory finger pointed directly at Yoongi. “What on earth was that, Yoongi?” The words carry a mix of frustration and confusion, your voice demanding an explanation for the unexpected kiss that has left you reeling.

Fury courses through you as you confront him, your eyes ablaze with anger. “I can’t believe you did that, Yoongi. What were you thinking?” His pained expression hints at something deeper, and a momentary wave of confusion washes over your anger.

“I’m so sorry, I–,” he stammers, his shoulders slumped, an apologetic look in his eyes that matches the turmoil you feel inside. His deflated demeanor echoes your own, both marred by the chaos of emotions.

You brace yourself, waiting for his words, and he releases a heavy sigh. “Fuck. I’m so sorry,” he admits, absentmindedly kicking up the sand beneath his restless feet.

“I...I…” he stammers, and frustration builds within you as the seconds tick away, leaving you increasingly agitated by his apparent reluctance to offer an explanation for why he unexpectedly kissed you.

“I think I’m gay,” he suddenly blurts out, and you’re taken aback. Confusion clouds your expression as you blink, trying to reconcile this revelation with the unexpected kiss, leaving you grappling with a puzzle that refuses to neatly fit together.

He gazes at you, and it’s as if he can decipher the thoughts racing through your mind. Despite the lingering pain etched on his face, a genuine sorrow and deflation accompany his words, “I kissed you because I needed to know if there was a spark between us, as a man and a woman.”

You nod in a semblance of comprehension, though his reasoning feels like a puzzle missing a crucial piece, leaving you with an unresolved sense of confusion.

“For a while now, I’ve found myself drawn to men, but it feels... weird, you know? I thought, perhaps, your sweetness and kindness could kindle a spark of interest in women for me, but it’s all so confusing.” He casts his gaze downward, releasing a sigh of frustration, and you meet his troubled eyes with a profound sense of empathy.

“Oh, Yoongi. Why didn’t you tell me?” you sigh, reaching for his arm and offering a reassuring stroke.

“It wasn’t cool of you to kiss me,” you begin in a soft voice, searching for his gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of confusion and understanding.

“There wasn’t even a spark,” he confesses, his voice hiccuping, tears streaming down his face, a raw vulnerability in his eyes that leaves you both exposed and connected in that fragile moment.

You envelop him in a comforting embrace, his tears dampening your shoulder. Despite the lingering frustration over his impulsive kiss, you can’t help but feel a surge of empathy. He’s navigating uncharted emotional waters, and you sense the vulnerability in his tears, making you momentarily set aside your own turmoil.

“I’m sorry. It’s just... I don’t know what came over me. I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers into the fabric of your shoulder, each word carrying the weight of regret, his tears leaving a palpable mark on your shirt.

“Yoongi, it’s okay,” you comfort him with a reassuring pat on his back. Mikrokosmos stands still opposite you both, a silent observer in the emotionally charged moment.

“Listen, you shouldn’t have kissed me. What you’re going through, you should’ve talked to me about it. And, please, there’s nothing wrong with liking men, okay? You can like whoever you want,” you assert, taking a step back to meet his eyes. “It’s going to be okay.”

Even through his tears and sobs, he looks at you with a puzzled expression. “Even with Jimin?”

Honestly, you don’t have all the answers, but you cling to hope. With a reassuring nod, you assert, “Jimin will come around.”

Days have passed, and the rift between you and Jimin remains unhealed. Every attempt to bridge the gap with words has been met with his silent retreat, leaving your pleas hanging in the air, unanswered.

Every passing day, the weight on your heart intensifies as Jimin continues to evade you. Returning to the ranch, the familiar routine with Yoongi feels strange, not because of any discord between you and him – you’ve reassured each other that everything is fine – but the unspoken tension with Jimin casts a shadow over the otherwise familiar landscape.

Diving into the world of wild horses with Yoongi acts as a soothing balm for your restless thoughts though, granting a momentary reprieve from the constant echoes of Jimin in your mind.

Today unfolds with a familiar dance between you and Mikrokosmos, each step a delicate negotiation of trust. Yoongi’s words echo in your mind, a reminder that forging a connection with her is a patient journey, a symphony of moments yet to be composed.

As Mikrokosmos gracefully weaves through the pen, Yoongi perches atop the fence, his keen eyes tracing the intricate dance between you and the wild mare, a silent maestro orchestrating a ballet of trust and understanding.

“Feel the rhythm of the moment, ease into it, and keep that calm composure,” he encourages, affirming your efforts with a reassuring nod.

“How have you been since last time?” you inquire, alluding to that unexpected moment when everything seemed to pivot with that unexpected kiss.

He wears a deflated expression, exhaling a sigh, “I’m still sorry for kissing you.”

“It’s fine. But I’m here for you. It seems like you could use somebody to talk to, don’t you think?” you inquire, wearing a soft smile.

He manages a small smile, though it’s faint. “Yeah, I haven’t really talked to anybody about it. It’s embarrassing,” he admits, his eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and relief.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of. There’s nothing wrong with liking men, women, transgender persons, non-binary persons, or none at all,” you reassure him with a warm smile, your attention divided between the conversation and the subtle progress with Mikrokosmos inching closer to you.

“A gay cowboy, that ain’t gonna be an easy trail to ride,” he sighs deeply, a sense of deflation settling over him once more.

“I understand, but I believe you’re being too hard on yourself,” you say with a gentle voice, aiming to provide reassurance.

“Is there anyone catching your eye?” you inquire, a note of hope in your voice, as you witness his eyes light up with a sudden sparkle, gradually breaking into a warm smile.

“There is, but I don’t think he reciprocates,” he confesses, a sense of deflation in his tone contrasting with the bright shimmer in his eyes.

“Have you asked him, or shared your feelings with him?” you inquire, turning your gaze toward Mikrokosmos. She ambles around, occasionally snorting at the soft sand.

“No! I’m too afraid to tell him. I don’t want things to change between us because of my feelings,” he confesses, the words tumbling out in an almost frantic shout, briefly startling Mikrokosmos.

You give him a sheepish smile; you truly understand his hesitation. It’s hard putting your heart and feelings on a platter. You don’t know if the other person feels the same or if your heart is going to get scattered. But, deep down, you believe it’s worth putting your heart out there. 

Sometimes, the risk is what makes the reward extraordinary.

“When you’re ready, I believe you should tell him,” you say, infusing your words with the hope that resides within you, a hope that everything will unfold into something beautiful.

You sense an additional presence behind you, and as you turn around, you catch Yoongi fixedly gazing at something—or someone—over your shoulder. Intrigued, you pivot to find Jimin leaning against the fence, his gaze locked onto Yoongi.

Jimin’s voice slices through the air, a sharp edge to his tone that matches the intensity etched on his face. “I need you to drive into town and buy some new feed for the horses,” he instructs, the anger palpable in his words and expression.

“Sure boss,” Yoongi responds with a crisp nod, his acknowledgment carrying an undercurrent of tension, an unspoken acknowledgment of the brewing storm between you and Jimin.

Yearning for a chance to talk, you tentatively approach Jimin, hope lacing your voice as you softly inquire, “Hey, Jimin, can I talk to you?” 

Your attempt at a warm smile hangs in the air, but he remains distant, his gaze piercing through you as if you’re invisible. Silence greets your plea, his lack of response a profound dismissal as he pivots away, retreating to whatever occupied his attention before.

Stunned and disheartened, you linger in disbelief, the weight of Jimin’s blatant disregard settling heavily on your shoulders. An unsettling sensation creeps in, the palpable silence amplifying the sinking feeling in your chest. Kicking at the sand with your boots, a surge of deflation courses through you, leaving you stranded in a sea of unanswered questions and unspoken tensions.

A somber expression clouds Yoongi’s face as he inquires, “He still hasn’t talked to you?” 

Your head shakes in response. 

The mystery of Jimin’s continued silence baffles you, each attempt to bridge the gap met with indifference. Despite your persistent efforts, he remains resolute in his avoidance, a clear indication of his desire to keep his distance.

You release a heavy exhale, frustration etching into your words. “It’s as if he’s deliberately ignoring and avoiding me.”

“Do you want me to talk to him? Clarify that the kiss meant nothing, and apologize for my mistake?” Yoongi offers, his willingness to step in as a friend evident. However, you hesitate, not wanting him to fight your battles. You’re convinced that Jimin simply needs more time to come around, right?

“No. I doubt it would make a difference anyway. I’ve already assured him that it was meaningless, so I don’t understand why he’s still so angry…” Your words trail off, spoken in a hushed tone, carrying the weight of your frustration and confusion.

Yearning for a breakthrough, you contemplate slipping into the dress Jimin gifted you back in the city. Maybe, just maybe, it will catch his eye and pave the way for the conversation you so desperately crave. 

The unanswered questions weigh on you, leaving you bewildered as to why he won’t grant you a chance to clarify things.

Draped in the dress Jimin gave you, you delicately apply a touch of makeup, accentuating your features according to your own personal style. The anticipation lingers in the air, a silent plea for this subtle effort to break through the walls Jimin has erected.

As you finish preparing, you join the other girls outside the yard. Their outfits exude comfort and beauty, each reflecting their unique styles. Ara’s curly hair complements a simple shirt and knee-length skirt, paired with low heels. Ha-rin gracefully dons a sleek, figure-hugging dress. Your sister embraces a casual vibe with a shirt and jeans, a choice you appreciate. Meanwhile, Soo-ah stands out in a vibrant blue dress, accentuating her blonde hair. It’s just a casual outing to the bar, but the simplicity carries an understated elegance among the group.

Jessi confidently takes the wheel, her hands gripping it with purpose as you all pile into the car. With a decisive turn of the key, the engine roars to life, and she skillfully guides the vehicle down the dusty road, steering towards town. 

As the car glides through the landscape, your gaze fixates on the passing scenery outside the window. The lively chatter of the other girls becomes a distant murmur as your thoughts wander into the realm of introspection. The vibrant colors of the world blur into a kaleidoscope, your mind lost in contemplation, oblivious to the conversations swirling around you.

Suddenly, a gentle poke interrupts your introspection, and you pivot to find Soo-ah’s cerulean gaze locked onto yours. Her concern echoes in the soft curve of her brows as she delicately inquires, “What’s troubling you?”

As you release a heavy sigh, frustration coursing through you like an electric current, you run your fingers through your hair. The tangled web of untold secrets and unspoken emotions weighs on your shoulders. The girls remain oblivious to the unspoken turmoil – the unexpected kiss from Yoongi, the revelation of his sexuality, Jimin’s furious reaction, and the ensuing silence that has settled between you and him like an unbreachable chasm.

“Jimin is mad at me,” as the words escape your lips, a heavy admission lingering in the air, you allow your body to slump against the car seat, a profound sense of deflation settling over you. This situation with Jimin is a bitter pill, a taste of discontent that lingers on your tongue.

This sucks.

Soo-ah’s gaze, a curious blend of concern and confusion, locks onto you as she poses the question, “Why is he mad at you? I thought everything was well since their party.” 

“He saw Yoongi kiss me,” you sigh, the weight of frustration evident in the sound. A collective hush descends upon the car as the gravity of your revelation captures the attention of the rest of the girls.

“Wait, you kissed Yoongi?” Ha-rin’s eyes widen in surprise, her tone revealing a mixture of shock and curiosity.

“No, I didn’t kiss him. He kissed me. There’s a big difference!” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest with a frustrated huff.

Ara’s voice comes from the front passenger seat, cutting through the tension, “Oh. Do you like Yoongi now, then?”

“No! I still like Jimin. But he doesn’t want to talk to me since he saw that kiss. I tried to explain to him that it meant nothing, but he didn’t want to listen and slammed the door in my face…” you lament, the frustration evident in your voice.

“So he knows it didn’t mean anything?” Soo-ah inquires, her eyes probing for the truth.

“Yeah. I told him,” you respond with a nonchalant shrug, a mix of frustration and resignation lingering in your voice.

Your sister’s soft voice breaks the tension, drawing your attention. “Jimin is a very sensitive guy, you know?” she remarks, her words carrying a touch of understanding for both you and Jimin.

“I’m beginning to understand that, yeah…” you mutter, releasing another heavy sigh that echoes the weight of the situation.

“He’s quick to feel jealousy, especially when it involves his brother,” Jessi chimes in, her gaze fixed on the winding road ahead.

“But it was Yoongi, not Jungkook. I can’t wrap my head around why he’s upset about this but not when I slept with Jungkook,” you express, genuine confusion evident in your words.

“I believe he took time grappling with the fact that you were involved with Jungkook. It hurt him deeply. They have a competitive relationship, and if he can overcome that, it shows he truly cares for you,” your sister suggests, her voice carrying a hopeful tone.

“But why won’t he talk to me then?” Frustration seeps into your voice. All you yearn for is a conversation with Jimin, to express that you desire him, that you need him in your life.

“Did he say anything else?” Soo-ah inquires, her mind working to find a solution that might aid you.

Your mind races, and then it clicks— he did say something! “He did say: ‘You’re always into everybody else. It’s never me. I’m never the one’,” you share, the weight of those words lingering in the air.

A shared understanding seems to envelop everyone else, leaving you on the outskirts as they exchange knowing glances with one another.

“What is it?” you inquire, eager to unravel the undisclosed facets of Jimin’s life that have eluded you.

“I think he’s hurt,” Ara shares, causing you to roll your eyes. The frustration mounts as the question still persists: Why won’t he talk to you?

“Every time Jimin’s been in a relationship, they’ve always left him, whether for his brother or someone else. He’s never the one they pick,” Jessi shares, her voice tinged with sadness. She looks at you through the rearview mirror, her eyes holding a depth of understanding. “I think he’s hurt too, by always being picked last.”

Your heart plummets. 

He did express that he’s ’never the one’, but in your heart, he’s ‘the one’ for you. 

The realization hits you hard; you didn’t assure him of this crucial truth when he needed to hear it the most. If only you had voiced those feelings, perhaps you wouldn’t be grappling with this gut-wrenching sensation in your stomach.

“But he is the one for me,” you murmur in a hushed and almost imperceptible tone, yet the gravity of your words resonates clearly with the girls.

“Then tell him that,” Soo-ah urges, her hand offering a supportive squeeze on your arm.

You nod, grateful for the girls’ advice and your sister’s insights into Jimin’s past relationships. Determination courses through your veins as you clench your hands. Tonight, you’ve decided, you will talk to Jimin and bare your feelings to him.

How he’s the one who has held a special place in your heart since childhood, a crush that has only deepened with time. You yearn to confess that he’s the one you desire, envisioning a dance of closeness, where his arms envelop you, and your embrace reciprocates the warmth you’ve always craved.

You can do it. Tonight is the night.

As Jessi skillfully parks the car next to Jimin’s unmistakable blue truck, your heart quickens its rhythm. The sight of his vehicle acts as a silent cue, summoning the courage that has been building within you. Tonight, in the embrace of the bar’s glow, you are determined to release the words that have lingered in the depths of your heart, ready to unfold your emotions to Jimin.

Upon entering the bar, the lively scene unfolds before you: Jungkook and Yoongi engage in a fierce game of pool, drawing a crowd that includes Hoseok, Namjoon, and the mysterious guy from the party.

Meanwhile, at the bar, your eyes lock onto Jimin, seated intimately with a woman. Her laughter dances in the air as she leans into his touch, playfully twirling a strand of hair around her finger, while her hands find their way to his biceps, giving a teasing squeeze. 

A vice tightens around your heart, squeezing it within the confines of your chest. It plummets, dragging you into an emotional abyss. The sensation is akin to a dizzying free fall, the room spinning uncontrollably before your eyes.

The girls sense your frozen reaction and swiftly grab your arm, forcibly steering you away from the heart-wrenching scene. Your body feels immobilized, as if they need to physically drag you away from the emotional vortex that threatens to consume you.

They usher you towards the pool table, where the mysterious guy introduces himself as Seokjin. As you make eye contact with Yoongi, his expression reflects both concern and sadness. The other guys share similar sentiments, but it’s Jungkook who breaks the silence, his voice heavy with regret, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he would bring a date…”

You feign a smile, attempting to conceal your true emotions behind a façade of forced cheerfulness, though you suspect everyone can easily discern the charade. Yet, you couldn’t care less about that.

Hoseok wraps you in a comforting embrace, whispering reassurances, “It’s gonna be okay.”

However, the words fall on deaf ears as a storm of emotions brews within. Far from feeling okay, you sense a hollowness. The night intended for expressing your feelings to Jimin has taken an unexpected turn, leaving you questioning if he’s truly moved on.

Your voice barely above a whisper, you cautiously inquire, “Is he dating her?” 

The vulnerability in your tone reflects the internal struggle, torn between the desire for truth and the fear that it might shatter the fragile pieces of your heart. Despite the apprehension, you steel yourself for the reality you might have to face.

A heavy sigh escapes Jungkook’s lips as he confirms, “He is. It happened only a few days ago.” His words carry the weight of empathy, and his eyes convey a shared sorrow, understanding the depth of the wound that’s just been exposed.

“It’s Deiji, his old physiotherapist.” Jungkook adds with a heavy voice as he lets Yoongi have a turn at the pool table. His eyes reflect a genuine sadness, as does the whole group.

Your heart plummets into an abyss of confusion and hurt. Instead of choosing to communicate with you, he sought solace in someone else’s company. The ache in your chest deepens as you grapple with the unfathomable question of why he couldn’t have just spoken to you, choosing connection over the cold distance that now separates you both.

Your heart clenches, threatening to suffocate you with an overwhelming surge of nausea. 

The sight of Jimin and his newfound companion engrossed in tender exchanges and affectionate gestures feels like a relentless assault on your senses. The lovey-dovey expressions, the sweet whispers shared in each other’s ears, and their gentle caresses become an unbearable spectacle, driving you to the edge of discomfort. 

Ugh, you can’t take it.

Yoongi steps closer, intertwining his fingers with yours, prompting you to release Hoseok. His words carry a glimmer of hope, “Perhaps he just needs a bit more time to come around?”

Doubt seeps into your thoughts like a bitter poison. His swift transition to move on, without allowing you to explain or talk leaves you with a void, a concoction of sadness and a smoldering ember of anger burning within.

“I don’t think so,” a heavy sigh escapes your lips as you divert your gaze from the sight of Jimin and his new companion at the bar. Nausea knots your stomach, a visceral reaction to the realization that being in this room, in Jimin’s presence, is now a painful experience. The intention to confess your feelings replaced by the stark truth that his heart has found a different destination.

As the guys attempt to lift your spirits with a game of pool and some beers, the once familiar taste of the brew now carries a strange bitterness, unlike its usual comforting flavor. Your focus wavers, and it feels as though you’re observing the scene through distorted glasses, the world around you losing its usual vibrancy.

You believed that you and Jimin shared something unique—sure, you weren’t officially an item, but you were inching your way there, weren’t you?

Once more, you find yourself submerged in the vast ocean of your own emotions. If only you had proclaimed to Jimin that he was the one for you. If only you hadn’t frozen on that fateful day! 

’What ifs’ echo loudly in the chambers of your heart.

Your fists tighten involuntarily, the bitter taste in your mouth mirroring the ache within. The past is immutable; all you can do is forge ahead. If Jimin has chosen to let his feelings for you fade, perhaps it’s time to release your own grip and move forward. 

Easier said than done, as you find yourself hesitant to relinquish the tether to your emotions, unwilling to surrender to the prospect of letting go.

Throughout the remainder of the night, the guys make a genuine effort to lift your spirits. The once familiar taste of beer now repulses you so much, rendering you the designated driver. As a result, the girls indulge in even more libations, their laughter and banter echoing against the backdrop of your own subdued thoughts.

Amidst the melancholy, you find solace in witnessing their joy, and a genuine laugh escapes you when Yoongi triumphs over Jungkook at the pool table.

Despite the fragility of your heart, you can’t help but steal glances toward Jimin, engrossed in his conversation with this Deiji girl. A conflicted part of you contemplates confessing your feelings, but the shattered remnants of your confidence hold you back. After a week of deliberate avoidance, you doubt he would even spare you a glance.

As Jimin engages in conversation, the subtle traces of irritation etched on his face catch your notice, leaving you with a sinking realization that you might be the source of his vexation.

As you chauffeur the girls home that night, their laughter resonates within the car, yet your heart doesn’t resonate with the joy. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, your fingers mirror the clenching ache in your heart, and the darkness of the night reflects the shadows looming over the what-could-have-been with Jimin.

Engaging in work becomes your refuge, a distraction from the constant reverie of Jimin that clouds your thoughts. Despite your concerted effort, escaping his presence proves challenging, especially on his sprawling property. His distinctive soft locks and infectious laughter ripple through the yard, infiltrating the serene atmosphere where you and Yoongi diligently toil with the wild horses.

The sight of Jimin reveling in happiness with someone else ignites a bitter flame within you, a bitter concoction of disappointment and self-blame. As the waves of resentment crash against your emotional shore, you grapple with the realization that, perhaps, Jimin’s inability to engage in a mature conversation has tarnished the pedestal on which you once held him.

You and Yoongi dedicate your efforts to the brown mare, a patient companion in need of trust. Observing Yoongi’s skilled hands, you witness the delicate dance between man and horse unfold. His fingers caress the mare’s neck, traverse its sturdy body, and gracefully navigate down its legs, weaving a tale of connection and understanding through the language of touch.

With a practiced finesse, he shifts his hands back to the mare’s back, deftly applying his body weight as though securing an invisible saddle. The mare, a silent witness to this equine ballet, stands unperturbed, a testament to the trust forged between horse and human through the gentle language of handling.

“Calling it a day with this one,” he declares, a self-assured grin lighting up his face, even as the horse affectionately nudges his shoulder, sealing the unspoken bond formed in the tranquil dance of understanding.

Turning his attention towards you, he leads the brown mare away into the nearby paddock, asking, “Do you want to work on Mikrokosmos?”

Grateful for the distraction, you nod and reply, “Yes, that would be nice.” 

Together, you walk back to the stables, anticipation building as you prepare to face the untamed spirit of Mikrokosmos.

With a sense of accomplishment, he entrusts you with the task. 

Gently, you open her stall, and to your delight, Mikrokosmos willingly follows your lead. Lately, her trust in you has grown, allowing you to guide her without the need for a halter or a lead rope. Together, you stroll down to the pen, opening the fence and stepping inside, a testament to the bond you’ve formed.

Yoongi secures the gate behind you, swiftly leaping up to perch on the fence, his eyes keenly fixed on your every move as you begin your task.

As Mikrokosmos ambles around you in a deliberate circle, the rhythmic sound of her snorts fills the air, her curiosity piqued by the familiar scent of the weathered fence.

As Mikrokosmos gradually inches closer, a palpable sense of anticipation builds within you. Your desire for her to ‘join up’ intensifies, a connection you’ve been yearning for, still elusive in her hesitant movements.

Yet, in an unexpected shift, she retreats, leaving you with a subtle sense of deflation. The proximity you felt, a fleeting promise, slips away, and a tinge of disappointment lingers in the air.

From his perch atop the fence, Yoongi’s voice floats down, breaking the quiet, “Relax. Are you stressed or nervous?”

As the realization dawns, a mix of stress, irritation, and sadness swirl within you. A tumultuous cascade of emotions that might not be the best companions when seeking a horse’s trust.

Your head bobs in agreement. “I think I need to clear my head,” you admit, the weight of unspoken turmoil palpable in the air.

Understanding seems to pass silently between you and Yoongi. He gracefully hops down from the fence, offering a reassuring nod and a faint smile as you trudge back to the gate, unlocking it with a heavy heart.

You stride purposefully to where Marshmallow is tethered. Swiftly unfastening him, you deftly place your foot in the stirrup and swing your leg over the saddle. With a gentle kick to his sides, you urge him into a spirited gallop, the wind whipping through your hair as you both charge forward.

Without a word to Yoongi, you let Marshmallow take charge, giving him free rein to gallop ahead, the rhythmic beat of hooves on the earth harmonizing with the rush of wind in your ears. 

As the wind weaves through your hair, the rhythmic gallop of Marshmallow beneath you becomes a soothing cadence, drowning out the tumultuous thoughts of what could have been with Jimin. Instead, you choose the liberating path of a blank canvas, letting your mind mirror the pristine slate before the stroke of a paintbrush. The open expanse before you becomes a metaphorical canvas for new possibilities, each hoofbeat a brushstroke on the masterpiece of your own journey.

Underneath Marshmallow’s rhythmic hooves, you traverse hilltops, wind through enchanting forests, and traverse expansive open lands. The beauty around you serves as a healing balm for your heart. 

In the distance, a wild herd of horses captures your attention, prompting you to guide Marshmallow into a steady walk. In silent reverence, you approach, not wanting to disrupt the natural dance of the herd, but to observe them silently.

Before you, the wild horses grace the landscape with their untamed beauty, a sight that never fails to captivate. Gazing upon them, an unspoken yearning echoes within you — a desire to emulate their unbridled freedom, devoid of obligations, untouched by pain, liberated from the weight that burdens your gut.

Your hand gently strokes Marshmallow’s neck, a tender connection in the midst of your emotions. Tears trace silent paths down your face, and the horse, ever understanding, carries you through the ebb and flow of your heartache.

Oh, the weight of regret settles on your heart as you yearn for the courage to have confessed your feelings to Jimin on that fateful day when Yoongi kissed you. 

If only the hands of time could rewind, granting you a chance to rewrite the narrative of your heart.

The pang of regret lingers, a bitter aftertaste staining your every thought.

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

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

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

🐴Chapter summary: You return home to the ranch, and finally get to call it home again. Jimin helps you move your stuff and you gradually feel yourself fall more and more for him.  🐴Chapter title: Our Home, Our Place 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: fluff with fluff on top 🤭 Also, there’s a piano that deserves a warning 👀 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 11k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld,

*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 💿 “This is Home” by Kate Voegele. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: MWAH! There’s just so much sexual tension in this, it is so damn fluffy and I loved writing it!! The tension was so palpable that I was so fucking close to giving in and let them have some well needed fun and a release (read= smut)— but no!!! Not yet 👿 I really hope you like this one!! Please let me know, okay? 🥹✨

Also, I am fully aware that this isn't Monday (at least in my timezone), but I just really wanted to post it and I've been thinking about changing the post days...

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

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

“Don't give up Try one more time We won't give up Let me help you Let me care Walk beside me I'll be there So don't give up Don't walk away” - ‘Don’t Give Up’ by Rebecca Lavelle

The tires of your car dig into the sandy dirt road with an unwavering resolve, each groove in the rugged terrain a testament to your journey. Your hands firmly clasp the steering wheel, the same determination coursing through you as it did months ago, yet this time, the air is charged with a different energy. You traverse the landscape, carrying not burdens but tidings of joy, and the road ahead unfolds like a welcoming embrace.

The sand and dust perform an ethereal dance before the windshield, a choreography of particles that somehow feels like nature's celebration. As you welcome the familiar landscape with open arms, the mountains maintain their majestic stance in the distance, towering sentinels against the canvas of the sky.

The car becomes a rolling symphony, pulsating with happy melodies that mirrors your newfound joy. An upbeat song reverberates through the vehicle, harmonizing with the rhythm of your contentment. 

Yet, beneath the surface of your happiness, there's a current of nervous anticipation, a symphony of emotions playing as you approach the threshold of home.

Anticipation tightens its grip on your heart as you ponder the impending reunion with Jessi. 

Will she swing the door open with open arms, or will it slam shut in rejection? The possibilities dance like shadows in your mind — a kaleidoscope of emotions waiting to unfold. 

Will her reaction be a thunderous scream, a fiery expulsion, or a demand to go, leaving the echoes of your past behind?

You fervently pray that won't be the case, your fingers tightening around the steering wheel as if clinging to the last shreds of hope. The grit in your resolve intensifies, bolstered by the weight of the positive news you carry back with you. 

In your heart, the fervent wish lingers: that this return won't be met with closed doors but with the open arms of a hopeful tomorrow. You reassure yourself, whispering to the wind, that the news you bear will be the bridge to mend fractured ties.

You cling to the steering wheel, fingers entwined, desperately yearning for Jessi to embrace your decision with the same warmth that radiates in your heart. 

As you drive, the memories encircle your mind like cherished echoes, their weight lifting off your shoulders. These fleeting recollections become comforting companions, guiding you home with a gentle embrace.

Your car, crammed to the brim with suitcases and bags, feels like a mobile vault of memories and possibilities. The notion of retrieving the rest of your belongings, perhaps with the help of a horse trailer, because you sure do have a lot of stuff!

The sign with your family name emerges like an old friend, triggering a cascade of memories that swirl around you – the carefree days of childhood, laughter echoing with your sister, the enduring camaraderie shared with Jimin, and the intricate tapestry of your adult life woven with triumphs and missteps, a testament to the journey of growing up and finally finding your place on the ranch.

As you draw near to the ranch, a hint of uncertainty flits through your thoughts, but amidst it, a resolute confidence surges within – you reassure yourself that not only can you navigate this return, but everything will unfold seamlessly, and everything will be fine.

Fueled by unwavering determination, you approach the ranch with a mindset that Jessi, with all her emotions, won't sway your resolve. This time, there's no room for surrender; you've learned from past experiences, and the echoes of your previous retreat will not repeat. You're here to stand firm and face whatever challenges lie ahead.

Embracing a resolute spirit, you skillfully guide your car along the serpentine path that descends towards the heart of the ranch.

As the well-known scenery unfolds before you, a subtle unease snakes through your veins. Jessi once demanded you to depart; will she repeat the gesture? 

Yet, your heart clings to the hope that this time, the news of your decision regarding the inheritance will elicit a different reaction, one of understanding and happiness.

The ranch stands unchanged, a testament to time, yet this visit, the burden of yesteryears no longer drapes over you. Instead, a vast sea of possibilities stretches before you, offering a chance to forge a new life, to reconnect with your roots, and to weave a reconciliation with the chapters of your past.

Bringing the car to a halt before the main house, you silence the engine with a decisive twist of the key. A nervous and heavy sigh escapes your lips, intertwining with the palpable anticipation that hangs in the air. Inhaling deeply, you draw in the essence of the moment, your fingers clenching determinedly against the steering wheel. 

This is your moment, and you can do it.

This time, you don't linger in the car to muster your determination. Swiftly, you swing the car door open and inhale the familiar scent of the land you once called home, hoping it will embrace you again. 

Your heart quickens its pace as your sneakers connect with the rugged ground. This is your chance to reclaim what was lost. 

You can do it.

Trekking the uneven terrain in your sneakers becomes a seamless journey. Approaching the imposing front door, you assertively deliver a knock as a polite gesture. However, unlike before, you don't linger in anticipation, choosing instead to take charge of the moment.

With a confident grip on the handle, you assertively push your way into the familiar space, a subtle declaration of ownership echoing in your every step. After all, this is rightfully yours now.

As you stroll down the corridor, a nostalgic echo of your arrival weeks ago, you casually poke your head into the kitchen. To your surprise, Ha-rin is diligently at work, and your sudden appearance startles her, causing a mix of both surprise and curiosity to dance across her features.

An eruption of excitement escapes Ha-rin as she exclaims, “Oh my god! You’re back!” 

Giggles and near-screams accompany her joyful dance, abandoning whatever task held her attention. In an instant, she abandons her work, rushes toward you, and engulfs you in a warm, hearty hug. The embrace becomes a haven, her familiar scent working its magic to soothe your jangled nerves. As you reciprocate the hug, her ebony locks playfully tickle your cheeks, creating a comforting cocoon of familiarity.

Her voice echoes with genuine joy, “We missed you! The others are gonna be so happy to see you back!” Each word resonates with enthusiasm, and she steps back to survey you. Dressed for ranch life, not like you were weeks ago, no heels this time, just your trusty sneakers. Jeans and a shirt complete the ensemble, a departure from the dresses of yestertime, signaling a readiness to embrace the authenticity of ranch living once again.

“Even Jessi?” An arched eyebrow accompanies your question, a low chuckle escaping your lips. You inquire, teasingly probing for details about the reception awaiting you from your sister.

“Yeah!” Her affirmation resonates with genuine warmth, and she continues, “She actually wanted to call you, but I guess she was too stubborn…” 

Ha-rin rolls her eyes as she shares this tidbit, and you feel a subtle acceleration in your heartbeat. Could it be that your sister has genuinely missed you?

Before you can linger on that intriguing piece of information, Ha-rin eagerly ushers you outside, pulling you along as she navigates the yard in search of the rest of the girls.

Ha-rin practically yanks you towards the stables, and as you step inside, you discover Soo-ah and Ara diligently tending to the horse stalls. At the sound of your entrance, they abandon their shovels, rushing towards you with shouts of your name echoing through the stables.

“I hoped you'd be coming back!” Soo-ah exclaims, enveloping you in a warm and tender hug, and Ara follows suit, creating a trio of affectionate embraces. Laughter bubbles up as the three girls express their joy at your return.

Anxiety courses through your veins as you inquire, “Where's Jessi?” 

The anticipation hangs heavy in the air, and you're eager to confront this part of your return.

“I think she’ll be back soon. She’s with Jungkook,” Ara informs you, and Soo-ah and Ha-rin exchange amused glances, their mischievous smiles leaving your face a silent question mark.

Sensing your silent inquiry, Ha-rin shakes her head, “Not like that.”

Not that you mind if that happened. After all, you have no claim over Jungkook, nor do you want one. Your interests and heart lie elsewhere. Still, you'd be genuinely happy for them if they ever get together—though you highly doubt it given how similar they seem, and the fact that she’s currently with Namjoon.

As your laughter resonates through the barn, the rhythmic beat of hoofbeats draws near. Before long, Cinnamon and your sister appear at the barn doors. Jessi's hat sits atop her head, and her brown curls cascade gracefully as she guides Cinnamon to a gentle walk and then a complete stop.

Her eyes fix on you, and an unexpected vulnerability creeps over you, as if you're laid bare for inspection, wondering how she'll respond. However, her gaze remains silent, devoid of anger, and a hint of happiness even appears to dance in her eyes.

Dismounting Cinnamon with effortless grace, she leads him into the barn, drawing closer to you. “Hi,” she greets with a simple nod, her actions speaking louder than words as she proceeds past you, focused on the task of untacking her horse.

“Hey,” you greet, a touch of nerves in your voice despite your determination. 

“I was hoping we could talk?” 

The request hangs in the air, your attempt at steadiness wrestling with the nerves coursing through your veins.

“Absolutely, I'd like that,” she replies, focused on removing Cinnamon's bridle. “I just need to put Cinnamon out in the pasture, and then we can grab a beer on the terrace. You go ahead, I'll join you in a moment.”

“Alright, sounds good,” you reply, a wave of relief washing away most of the nervous tension. You give a friendly wave to Soo-ah and Ara, leaving them to complete the stall cleaning as you and Ha-rin make your way back to the house.

“Jessi seems happy,” you start the conversation while descending towards the house, and Ha-rin glances at you with a warm smile. “I told you she’s been missing you. She’s happy to see you,”  she shares as both of you step into the kitchen.

“I just thought she hated me,” you confess, your voice wavering slightly as you locate and retrieve two beers from the fridge.

“Can't vouch for the past, but ever since you left, she's been doing a lot of thinking about you,” Ha-rin confides with a gentle gaze, returning to her food preparations. You offer her a grateful nod before making your way out to the terrace.

The red-brown wood deck of the terrace is adorned with inviting lounge chairs, and a spacious table surrounded by eight chairs sits proudly in the backyard. A metal wind chime dangles from the ceiling, silent in the absence of wind.

Seated on the terrace steps, you patiently await your sister's return. Your eyes wander across the backyard, where a myriad of bushes and trees creates a captivating display of lush greenery. Amidst the natural beauty, you ponder on how she will respond to your news. A mix of hope and uncertainty lingers in the air. Despite her earlier demeanor, you find solace in the belief that, at the very least, she may not react negatively.

Jessi emerges into view, the glistening beads of sweat on her forehead bearing witness to the exertion from the stables. You extend the cold beer to her, and she grabds it graciously, taking a seat beside you on the terrace. 

As the refreshing hiss of opened beers fills the air, you gather your courage and broach the topic, “There's something important I've been wanting to discuss with you—about my inheritance.”

A fleeting tension tightens her shoulders momentarily, a subtle reaction not lost on you. Yet, she eases into a composed stance, nodding in silent permission for you to proceed.

“I've had a change of heart about selling it,” you start, a newfound lightness pulsating through your chest. “Keeping the ranch feels right, and…”

“Can I make a home on the ranch, if you'll have me?” The words tumble out, a mix of question and declaration. Nervousness creeps back as she gazes at you, caught off guard by the weight of your words.

She exhales, shoulders dropping, “I'm relieved you're not selling your inheritance,” she says. The rhythm of your heartbeat pounds in your ears, and your eyes widen. The tone in her voice leaves you uncertain; it doesn't sound like an invitation for you to stay.

“And this place is as much yours as it is mine. So, of course, you can stay,” she offers a soft smile, and all her features seem to relax, a stark contrast to how you've seen her before during that time you spent here last.

You feel a flood of reassurance washing over you, her words finally reaching you. “I want you to stay too,” she adds before you can finish your thought, and a big smile creeps onto your face. You can't help it, just like you can't help the tears that threaten to escape.

“I've genuinely missed you,” she admits, her words accompanied by the subtle gesture of bringing the beer to her lips for a sip.

Your heart swells with affection and love, and you open up, saying, “I’m so sorry about how I behaved last time— all those times I fucked up, and how I mishandled the situation with the inheritance.”

You savor a sip of the beer, relishing the moment as the warmth of the conversation with your sister pairs perfectly with the soothing hues of the sunset in the background.

“It’s fine. And it’s natural to mess up, and I’ll try to be better at not grilling you for your mistakes. And you really shouldn’t feel so bad when you make them,” her words offer a refreshing breeze, a promise of understanding, and the teasing pat on your shoulder feels like a gentle reminder that even in the realm of mistakes, there's room for laughter and forgiveness.

“We’re sisters, you know? We should stick together and help each other. Not bring each other down,” as the sun dips lower, casting hues of warm orange across the sky, her words resonate like a melody of reconciliation.

“That would be nice,” your voice carries a wistful tone as you express the longing for the dream of sisterhood to become a reality. The prospect of working together, mending what was once broken, tugs at the strings of your heart, echoing the echoes of a childhood dream that's now within reach.

“I’m also sorry for how I behaved,” in that moment, the sincerity in her gaze is palpable, and as she gently clasps your hands, a shared understanding seems to bridge the gap between past regrets and present reconciliation. 

“I’m happy you didn’t give up on this place or on me.”

As joyous tears cascade down your cheeks, her words resonate with a profound truth that rekindles the warmth of a long-lost friendship. Squeezing her hand in a shared moment of understanding, you draw her into a heartfelt embrace. The sensation is transformative, a healing balm for the wounds of time, and an assurance that, from this point onward, things can only evolve for the better.

As you prepare to meet up with the guys at the local bar, a sense of relief washes over you. This time, you're comfortably clad in your own clothes, steering clear of any daring ventures into your sister's wardrobe. You vividly remember what went down when you borrowed her clothes— and you certainly don’t want a repeat of that!

Jessi takes the wheel, embarking on the two-hour journey, the atmosphere inside the car is charged with contagious laughter and joyful giggles that resonate throughout the entire ride.

Soo-ah's eyes sparkle with anticipation as she inquires, “Do you think Hobi will be there?” 

Ara, turning around with a sheepish look, responds with a hint of playfulness, “Why wouldn't he be?”

“I don’t know,” Soo-ah chuckles nervously, uncertainty lingering in her eyes. You offer a reassuring squeeze to her leg and assure her, “He'll be there, don't worry.”

As you pull into the bar's parking lot, the sight of both Jungkook and Jimin's pickup trucks quickens your heart. The vibrant blue hue of Jimin's truck captures your attention, and an unexpected wave of nervousness causes your palms to sweat. You subtly fidget, praying that Soo-ah beside you remains oblivious to the sudden surge of emotions.

Entering the bar, the boisterous laughter of the guys instantly guides your gaze to a larger table, where they've gathered. A symphony of hearty laughs reverberates through the room, and as you approach, you can't help but notice their hats carefully placed on the table. A warm smile spreads across your face, ready to join the camaraderie.

As your sister claims a chair beside Jungkook and Soo-ah smoothly secures a seat next to Hoseok, Ara and Ha-rin settle in beside Yoongi. With a subtle gesture, Jimin deftly pulls out the empty chair next to him, a silent invitation for you to join the circle.

“Thank you,” gratitude colors your words as you offer a soft smile, yet beneath the surface, your heart quickens in the magnetic pull of Jimin's presence, settling into the chair with a hint of anticipation.

“Welcome back,” Hoseok quips, a playful smile lighting up his face as he raises his beer in a toast to celebrate your return. The others swiftly join the gesture, already having ordered a beer for you in anticipation. A chuckle escapes you, appreciating the friendship, and you seamlessly join in with your own beer.

“You know, you really should be thanking Jimin,” you remark after taking a sip, directing your gaze toward him with tender eyes and a soft smile. 

The others exchange curious glances, signaling that they might not be aware of Jimin's visit to the city—an aspect you assumed was common knowledge.

A blush creeps up on your cheeks, and all eyes, except Jimin's, fixate on you with expectant curiosity. In a hushed tone, you confess, “Jimin came to visit me in the city.” The revelation resonates loudly, met with gasps of ‘oh's’ that hang in the air.

“So that's where you went,” Jungkook teases with a sly smirk, raising his eyebrows suggestively. A synchronized eye-roll between you and Jimin follows, a silent agreement against the mischievous banter.

You catch Soo-ah whispering to Hoseok, disbelief evident in her hushed tones. A chuckle escapes your lips, finding amusement in their reactions.

You turn to face Jimin, his cheeks adorned with a subtle blush, his soft features inviting and his plush, slightly chapped lips capturing your attention. “Thank you, Jimin, for bringing me back,” you express, your voice carrying a weight of affection and gratitude. In those words, you hope he senses the depth of your appreciation for his kindness and the significant impact it had on you.

He grins, a warm and expansive smile that causes his eyes to disappear into the contours of his cheeks. 

“Anytime. I'm glad you came home,” he replies with genuine warmth, his words echoing the sincerity that radiates from his expression.

“Yeah, I'm glad I came home too,” you murmur in a breathy tone, the air heavy with unspoken emotions. For a moment, it feels like an intimate exchange, a shared secret between just the two of you, the world narrowing into tunnel vision. Reality snaps back, and you remember you're not alone, the rest of the group observing you with curious eyes.

“Well, let's toast to that too then!” Hoseok exclaims with infectious mirth, prompting the group to raise their glasses for another sip of beer. 

You shift your gaze back to the table, yet the sensation of Jimin's eyes on you persists. His stare carries an inviting warmth, and a longing tugs at you, wanting you to plant your head on his shoulders, reminiscent of the moments in your apartment when you leaned into his sturdy frame. You remember how your heart echoed the rhythm of his, creating a sense of belonging and familiarity that made you feel truly at home.

Laughter swirls around you, but your thoughts orbit in a distant realm. As you attempt to refocus on the conversation, a peculiar dynamic unfolds between your sister and Jungkook. Their interactions carry a subtle awkwardness, an unspoken occurrence concealed beneath forced smiles. Tension simmers between them, an invisible thread tying knots of secrecy, yet the exact nature eludes your grasp.

Averting your gaze from the enigmatic exchange, you catch the collective scrutiny of the girls fixed upon you. A blush ignites your cheeks, and you involuntarily inhale sharply. Their sly smiles and approving glances make your embarrassment intensify, and you find yourself momentarily breathless, struggling to swallow even a sip of your beer.

As the liquid spurts out, leaving you panting for air, Jimin swiftly places a warm hand on your back, sending an electrifying jolt through your entire body. 

In that moment, you feel like you're both on fire and gasping for breath, a peculiar combination of sensations that leaves you caught in an unexpected whirlwind. 

Great, you think, struggling to regain your composure amidst the chaos.

Concern etches his features as he anxiously inquires, “Are you okay?” 

Your breath continues to dance erratically against his palm, the warmth of his touch providing a comforting anchor in the midst of your momentary struggle to regain composure.

As you finally regain control over your breath, a self-deprecating chuckle escapes your lips, a feeble attempt to divert attention from your momentary lapse. The group seamlessly resumes their conversations, allowing you a moment to collect the tattered shreds of your dignity. 

Why does it always seem like you're destined to make a fool of yourself?

Jimin's touch lingers on your back, a tantalizing journey that ventures perilously close to the curve of your ass, sending a subtle shiver down your spine.

Jimin's warm smile graces his face as he extends an invitation, “We're throwing a party at our place in a few days, and you're all invited.” Meanwhile, his hand continues its subtle dance, now gently rubbing your lower back, creating a magnetic connection that adds an intriguing layer to the invitation.

No. No. That’s dangerous to think about, you reprimand yourself.

His touch, gentle and warm, sends a wave of sensations through you, igniting a rush of memories and desires. The mere brush of his fingers on your skin catapults your mind into overdrive, recalling the comforting closeness you shared. Your thighs involuntarily clench as you silently curse the intensity of your own lingering thoughts. 

Damn it.

Suddenly, he withdraws his hand, leaving an unexpected chill in the space it once occupied. The absence of his touch sends a subtle shiver down your spine, a stark reminder of the warmth you had grown accustomed to in that fleeting moment.

“Absolutely, count us in!” Jessi exclaims, her face lighting up with enthusiasm, and she dives back into conversation with Jungkook, the topic eluding your grasp.

Your thoughts are a whirlwind of Jimin—his gentle tousled blonde locks, the memory of his firm thighs, how both strong and inviting they felt—and you snap back to reality, realizing you might be wearing your infatuation like a neon sign. 

Damn it.

Pull yourself together; you can't afford to be practically drooling in front of everyone.

Summoning determination, you refocus on Jimin. “Jimin, there's something I want to ask you,” you start, a soft smile masking the nervousness that makes your palms slightly sweaty.

He responds with a smile and a chuckle, clearly aware of your flustered state. “Go ahead, ask anything,” he encourages, his warmth providing a comforting backdrop to your nervousness.

Your gaze meets his, hopeful and sincere, as you muster the courage to pop the question. “I was wondering if you could lend me a hand moving all my stuff from the city back home to the ranch?” The subtle widening of his smile and the softening of his eyes tell you that your request has found a welcome place in his heart, and he leans in.

“Do you need a pair of strong hands to lift heavy furniture?” His playful tease sends a flush of embarrassment to your cheeks, your mind racing with thoughts of his strong biceps and thighs. 

Chuckling at your reaction, he leans in, making your heart race even faster. 

Gathering your composure, you respond with a playful retort, “Well, I do have a lot of stuff, and I need you to drive with a horse trailer. Your muscles would be a huge bonus.” The words tumble out in a rush, a mix of nervousness and a desire to keep the conversation between just the two of you.

His laughter fills the air, clearly enjoying the playful banter. “Absolutely, I'm in. Just let me know when you want to get the show on the road,” he says with a grin, his willingness to help evident in his warm and teasing tone.

As you exhale, returning your attention to the group's conversation, a sudden surge of warmth envelops your thigh. Your breath catches in anticipation, your body responding to the gentle caress as if it were a spark igniting a flame.

As Jimin navigates his blue truck down the rustic dirt road, a horse trailer trailing behind, he turns to you with a warm smile. Leaning comfortably against the seat, one hand effortlessly steering, the other casually resting on his thigh, he inquires, “How much stuff are we bringing back?” 

His eyes twinkle with a mix of curiosity and readiness for the adventure ahead, as if the journey is not just about transporting belongings but weaving a story between two souls on the open road.

Oh heavens. Your gaze unintentionally lingers on Jimin's dangerously enticing thighs, you inwardly scold yourself—those legs are a hazard, a potential downfall for you at any moment. A shaky breath escapes you, a silent reminder that Jimin is awaiting your response to the question he posed.

Your smile holds a mix of determination and anticipation as you respond, “All of it. I've canceled my lease on the apartment, so everything needs to come with us back home.” 

As the cold air from the conditioning unit gently tousles your hair, you welcome the refreshing breeze, a stark contrast to the heated and lingering thoughts that play provocatively in your mind.

“Cool,” he says, a charming smile gracing his lips, yet his gaze lingers a moment too long, a silent undercurrent of unspoken words hanging between you two, before he diverts his attention back to the winding road ahead.

You've sensed his lingering gazes for weeks, and there's a magnetic pull that suggests his childhood crush may not have faded. The feeling is mutual— oh boy do you feel it, your heart echoes his sentiments. Does he sense your reciprocation? Uncertain, you contemplate subtle ways to convey your emotions, crafting a silent symphony that resonates without uttering the words aloud.

As your gaze involuntarily drifts to his thighs once more, a daring notion plays in your mind—should you dare to venture a touch? 

Lost in contemplation, you're oblivious to his subtle amusement until his hand, warm and reassuring, lands on your thigh. His chuckle, a shared secret between you, unfolds a world of possibilities along the open road.

In a heartbeat, a cocoon of warmth engulfs you, igniting a familiar flame within. His touch possesses an enchanting power, a spell that renders you warm, giddy, and teetering on the edge of desire every single time.

With a sheepish smile, you gently place your hand over his calloused one, settling back into your seat. In this moment, everything feels just right.

The remainder of the lengthy drive unfolds in a serene silence, allowing both of you to bask in the comforting presence of the other, not needing words. There's a certain beauty in the simplicity, especially with his warm hand resting so reassuringly on your thigh.

As the towering cityscape looms into view, a nostalgic pang tugs at your heart. This bustling metropolis has been your home for countless years, a backdrop to the chapters of your life. Now, faced with the daunting task of packing up, you're about to embark on a journey back to your roots. The skyscrapers and imposing buildings seem to reach new heights on the horizon, and with precision, Jimin expertly navigates the road to secure a parking spot right outside your apartment complex.

Exiting the truck, you're greeted by a wave of stifling, humid air that carries the city's unique blend of pollution. The atmosphere seems almost suffocating as you make your way back to the trailer. There, Jimin is already in action, deftly opening it and lowering the ramp, setting the stage for a smooth and efficient loading process.

“Ready?” Jimin's infectious smile lights up the moment as you approach your apartment, your heart pulsating with anticipation, matching the rhythm of each step you take together.

With a sense of purpose, you had pre-packed your belongings in sturdy boxes before your return to the ranch, fueled by a fierce determination to make it your permanent home. Now, alongside Jimin, the only task at hand is to efficiently load the carefully packed boxes and furniture into the waiting horse trailer.

Amidst the sea of packed furniture and boxes, Jimin shoots you a bemused look, his chuckle echoing through the apartment. “Did you expect that Jessi would say yes to let you stay at the ranch, before you came back?” he teases, his eyes dancing with amusement.

Smirking playfully, you retort, “Well, I like to be prepared. If Jessi had told me to leave, I would've just unpacked it all.” A chuckle escapes your lips, accompanied by a nonchalant shrug as you snatch a box.

His eyes playfully twinkle as he suggests, “You grab all the small boxes, and let me do all the heavy lifting, okay?” His gaze surveys the cluttered space, finally settling on your substantial couch.

You nod in agreement, a subtle pang of guilt flickering in your chest. The thought crosses your mind that he might exhaust himself, particularly his right leg. Perhaps you can repay the favor with another leg massage later?

In just a few hours, you manage to load the trailer and Jimin's pickup truck with all your belongings. As you lock the door to your apartment, the weight of finality settles in. With a click, the door is secured, and you slip the key into the mailbox for the landlord.

Jimin's voice carries a comforting warmth as he suggests, “Let's head back home,” wrapping his arms around you in a tender embrace. Inhaling his musky scent, memories flood back from the night he stayed over. A hopeful anticipation lingers, wishing for more moments like those to come.

Jimin ushers you back to the truck, courteously opening the door for you. You offer him a soft smile as you slide into the seat. Observing him as he circles the vehicle, his worsened limp catches your attention. 

The realization sinks in—Jimin pushed himself too hard, his usual grace overshadowed by the toll of exertion, all for your sake, and a gentle frown forms on your face.

Jimin secures the trailer with a confident click, then slides into the driver's seat. A warm smile graces his lips as he turns the key in the ignition, setting the engine humming to life. With a smooth shift into first gear, he directs the car forward, his eyes meeting yours in a silent promise of the journey ahead.

As the soft strains of music fill the car, a subtle unease creeps over you. Anxious thoughts dance in your mind, a symphony of guilt echoing within, knowing that Jimin might be in pain, all because of you.

“Does your leg hurt?” 

Biting your lip, you seek reassurance, even though the truth is already etched in the lines of his face. 

“Yeah, a bit,” he confesses, briefly straightening his leg before a fleeting pause on the gas pedal. A momentary interruption in his driving, a subtle acknowledgment of the pain he endures. The rhythm of the road resumes, but you sense the underlying strain in his voice, a melody of discomfort beneath the surface.

Slowly, your hand ventures across the center console, finding its place on his solid thigh. His surprise is evident in the brief flicker of his gaze, but he remains silent as your fingers press and massage, the rhythmic motion a silent dialogue between you. His eyes fixate on the road ahead, while your touch weaves its soothing spell on the taut muscles beneath your fingertips.

You playfully prod your fingers into the fabric of his denim, kneading his thigh as though sculpting a pliable material. A subdued moan escapes him, and you catch the sight of him nibbling on his lower lip, a subtle sign of the sensations your touch ignites.

Your hand glides with a purpose up and down his sturdy thigh, sensing the subtle tension in his muscles. With each ascent, you feel the clenching response beneath your touch. 

Moving higher up his thigh, his breaths become shallower, a rhythm resembling both panting and anticipation.

He shifts his gaze toward you, a mixture of plea and vulnerability in his eyes. 

“Please stop.”

As if seared by an invisible flame, your hand freezes in place, but you resist pulling it away immediately. There's a silent plea in his eyes, and you sense there's more beneath the surface, waiting to be revealed.

He exhales a prolonged moan, his voice carrying a hint of urgency, “I might lose focus on the road if you keep that up.”

Your gaze lingers on the subtle bulge in his pants, eliciting a gasp that quickly turns into a relaxed smile as you recognize his pleasure. With one last tantalizing squeeze, you withdraw your hand, offering him a soft, knowing smile, your eyes revealing the unmistakable presence of desire.

His laughter fills the air as he acknowledges your efforts, “Your massage worked wonders. I must admit, I do enjoy your touch,” a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

You accept the compliment with a subtle grin, savoring the fact that he's visibly affected. There might be a chance to pick up where you left off later, but for now, he needs to concentrate on the road.

“This is seriously not ranch wear!” 

Protesting against the impracticality of your footwear, you let out a groan as your sneakers get swallowed by the soft earth, your feet sliding uncomfortably inside them.

Amidst the shared laughter, Soo-ah's hands expertly reinforcing the fence with a tool, she suggests with a playful grin, “Perhaps it's high time for a trip into town to snag yourself some proper boots?”

“Absolutely,” you confirm, gripping the fence firmly as she expertly weaves in fresh wire to mend the spots where the cattle had left their mark.

“We can go town later, yeah?”

You watch the beads of sweat cascade down her forehead as she channels her strength into securing the wires to the fence. You nod in agreement, realizing the practicality of having a sturdy pair of boots, especially considering your decision to make this place your home.

Soo-ah takes charge of the heavy lifting, skillfully securing the wires while you provide the essential support by steadying the fence posts. Together, you form a seamless partnership, ensuring the fence's resilience under the weight of teamwork.

“Let’s head back home, I’m tired,” exhaustion paints Soo-ah's words as she catches her breath, prompting the decision to retreat home. You both make your way back to the horses, gracefully mounting them before embarking on the journey back to the ranch, where the promise of rest and respite awaits.

After dismounting the horses and securing them in the stable, a parched sensation lingers in your throat, coaxing you towards the house in pursuit of a refreshing gulp of cold water. The relentless heat persists, a reminder that perhaps bringing water along during the fence repair would have been a wiser choice.

Announcing your need for a wardrobe change, you declare, “I have to swap this drenched shirt,” and with purpose, stride towards your room—the guest room that has cradled you since your arrival months ago. However, upon entering, an uncanny realization dawns—your belongings have vanished. 

Surveying the room, the neatly made bed flaunts unfamiliar sheets, an unsettling cleanliness pervades the space. Panic prickles as you frantically wonder, where's your stuff?

As you retrace your steps to the terrace where Soo-ah is seeking solace from the sweltering heat, you can't help but voice your growing concern, “Do you have any idea where my belongings are? My room is stripped bare.” 

The words hang in the air, and as you glimpse a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, an unsettling curiosity tightens in your chest.

Her words leave a trail of mystery in the air, and you feel a surge of anticipation. “Head upstairs and check the room next to Jessi's,” she suggests, a knowing smile playing on her lips, her fingers delicately pressing the cold glass of water against her flushed face. 

With a mix of curiosity and apprehension swirling within you, you follow Soo-ah's suggestion and ascend the staircase. Navigating through the familiar halls, you finally reach your sister's room and, with a tentative breath, reach for the handle of the door adjacent to it. The wood creaks softly as you push it open, revealing a room transformed, yet oddly familiar.

You slide into the room, and your jaw practically meets the floor at the sight that unfolds before you; every piece of your belongings thoughtfully arranged in the space, a harmonious blend of familiarity and newfound warmth. A cream-colored box takes center stage on the bed, bearing the elegant letters ‘Ariat,’ and you can't help but feel a rush of intrigue coursing through you.

As you lift the lid, a pair of exquisite brown boots adorned with intricate stitching and a touch of regal purple captures your gaze. Instantly, a wellspring of emotion threatens to spill over, and you find tears welling up in your eyes as your fingers delicately trace the supple contours of the leather.

The unexpected gift of boots sends your heart into a joyous swell, an exquisite gesture that leaves you touched. Overwhelmed with gratitude, you make your way downstairs, only to discover your sister and Soo-ah sharing the terrace.

“You got these for me?” Clutching the boots in your hands, you can't help but show them to your sister and Soo-ah, your face adorned with tears of pure joy. 

Soo-ah and your sister share conspiratorial smiles as Jessi unveils not just the boots but also a classic dark brown cowboy hat. “Now that you live here, you need those, and also this,” Jessi declares. You accept the hat, its simplicity resonating with you, and a genuine smile spreads across your face as you hold it in your hands.

Overwhelmed, you stammer through your gratitude, “This is too much. It’s not even my birthday. And you did all this for me? Also my room?” 

A choked sob escapes, your emotions a mix of gratitude and sheer happiness.

“Yeah. You deserve a bigger room too!” Your sister exclaims, pulling you into a tight hug that feels like a warm embrace of love and acceptance.

Overwhelmed by the unexpected warmth of their gesture, you can hardly believe the kindness and thoughtfulness they've poured into making you feel at home.

As you and your sister embark on a journey to the paddock near the Bell Ranch, the air is filled with a sense of purpose, the truck's engine humming in harmony with the anticipation of nourishing the cattle with extra hay.

As you draw near, the figures of Jungkook and Yoongi come into focus, silhouetted against the backdrop of the sprawling ranch. The boundary fence becomes a canvas for their hard work, their foreheads glistening with sweat and hats serving as valiant protectors against the relentless assault of the scorching sun.

You bound out of the car, adorned in your newfound boots and hat, the sensation of the leather against your skin adding a touch of invincibility to your step. The prairie wind whispers around you, playing with the edges of your hat, as if welcoming you into this new chapter of ranch life.

Observing the unspoken tension between Jessi and Jungkook, a myriad of questions flutter in your mind, but you resist voicing them just yet. 

Your sister redirects your focus, breaking the silent inquiry with a practical suggestion, “I'll take the wheel while you stand in the load of the truck, guiding the hay distribution. Deal?”

You agree to your sister's plan, a subtle unease crawls over you, intensified by the lingering gazes of Yoongi and Jungkook. 

A fleeting concern flits through your mind – is there a flaw in your attire that's drawn their attention?

“Nice boots and hat!” Jungkook's enthusiastic shout reaches you from the fence, accompanied by a sly smirk and an appreciative lift of his eyebrows. Yoongi, on the other hand, acknowledges you with a subtle nod, his gaze holding a mysterious intensity that leaves you intrigued and slightly puzzled.

“Thank you,” gratitude echoes from your lips as you balance atop the car, skillfully pushing chucks of hay out while your sister maneuvers the truck with deliberate precision. 

Jungkook's voice carries over the sound of hammering as he secures a fence post into the ground, his biceps flexing beneath the snug fabric of his t-shirt, “Are you joining the party tomorrow?” 

“You bet!” Your sister's voice resounds from the car, the windows rolled down, carrying her enthusiasm through the sun-soaked air.

As you prepare for the party at the guys' ranch, your hands eagerly discover the lovely dress that Jimin gifted you during his visit to the city. You pull it out, your fingers delicately tracing the intricate flowers adorning the fabric, knowing instinctively that this is the perfect choice for tonight.

In no time, you transform into a vision of elegance, applying a subtle, natural layer of makeup that enhances your features. A pair of low heels elegantly complete the ensemble, adding a touch of grace to complement the beauty of your chosen dress.

You step out into the yard to join your sister and the girls, all of you radiating a collective aura of elegance. Jessi stuns in a baby blue summer dress, a perfect match for her vibrant personality. Soo-ah confidently rocks a short, red mini dress that accentuates her curves with subtle allure. Ara's tall figure is accentuated by a flowing, regal purple satin dress. Ha-rin opts for a chic midi-length black dress, exuding a timeless charm. Together, you form a stylish and captivating ensemble ready for the night ahead.

“Is everyone set?” 

Your sister's anticipation fills the air as she swings open the car door, taking command of the driver's seat. The excitement is palpable as you and the others pile into the truck, eagerly embarking on the journey toward the Bell ranch.

As you pull up, a sea of cars and pickups fills the yard, resonating with the lively hum of distant music and the chatter of the party. The festive ambiance hits you the moment you swing open the car door, setting the stage for a night of celebration.

Anticipation courses through you as you approach the lively gathering, eager to unravel the mysteries of the party unfolding. Yet, amidst the pulsating music and animated crowd, it's the mere prospect of locking eyes with Jimin that quickens your heartbeat, infusing an electrifying rhythm to your excitement.

You step into their abode, a wave of conviviality envelopes you, the air resonating with the symphony of laughter. Jungkook, Jimin, Yoongi, and Hoseok form a relaxed quartet, engaged in easy banter, their beers in hand. 

Your eyes catch the vet, Namjoon, accompanied by a stranger with shoulders broad as mountains, his laughter infectious. Amidst the female company, drawn close to Jungkook, the atmosphere pulsates with an undeniable magnetism.

As your gaze collides with Jimin's, a soft and profound smile graces his lips, causing an inexplicable flutter within you. It's astonishing how this man effortlessly wields the power to turn your insides into a tender mush with just a simple yet enchanting smile.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” Jimin's warm voice resonates as he clasps your hand, a surge of electric energy coursing through your veins. You return his gaze with a smile, grateful for the invitation and the electrifying connection that lingers between you both.

“Oh, you're wearing the dress. You’re stunning,” he appraises you, his gaze tracing the contours of your figure, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. A subtle lick of his tongue adds a hint of mischief. Your legs momentarily waver, yet determined, you stride beside Jimin, delving deeper into their vibrant home.

The room exudes warmth, a comfortable fusion of wood and inviting furniture strategically placed. A sprawling couch beckons, adorned with a small table, a TV nearby. A grand round dining table, surrounded by wooden chairs boasting vibrant red upholstery, catches your eye. 

As you take in the scene, a piano near the couch intrigues you, sparking a curiosity you're eager to explore. 

Before you can inquire, the music volume surges, inundating the room with lively beats, setting the tone for the night.

As the lively tunes envelop the room, a spontaneous dance floor emerges, and Jimin gracefully sweeps you into a slow dance. Despite any reservations about your dancing skills, Jimin effortlessly dissolves them with his reassuring presence. His own mastery on the dance floor is evident, accentuated by the perfect fit of his pants and the tantalizing view offered by a slightly unbuttoned shirt, teasingly revealing his collarbones. 

In the rhythm of the music, you find yourself lost in the enchantment of the moment, guided by Jimin's skillful moves and the magnetic connection between you both.

With a deft twirl, he sends your dress swirling around you, a kaleidoscope of colors catching the ambient light. As you gracefully land in his arms, his hands intuitively find their place on your hips, guiding and swaying your body in perfect harmony with the pulsating rhythm of the music. 

As the music envelops you both, your heart races in tandem with the intoxicating rhythm. 

Jimin is so close that his scent permeates the air, clouding your senses and setting your mind and body ablaze. Desires surge within you, an undeniable yearning that intensifies with every breath, a silent plea echoing in the pulsating energy of the moment. 

You crave him, an insatiable hunger burning through your veins.

You nestle against his shoulder, inhaling the heady essence that is uniquely Jimin, an electric current courses through you, awakening a primal desire. His intoxicating scent envelops your senses, igniting a passionate flame that flickers within the deepest recesses of your being down to your core. 

A soft, involuntary moan escapes your lips, a testament to the overwhelming allure he holds over you.

In this enchanting moment, cocooned in the tender embrace of Jimin, it's as if the world has melted away, leaving just the two of you in a dance of intimacy. Yet, the pulsating energy of the party swirls around you, and as you lift your gaze from Jimin's shoulder, you catch a glimpse of your sister entwined in a dance with Jungkook. Their connection is palpable and sparks igniting an unspoken dialogue between them, drawing your attention to them.

You nestle your head into Jimin's chest, seeking refuge in the cocoon of warmth and strength that surrounds you. The rise and fall of his pectorals and shoulders provide a comforting rhythm, his touch on your hips guiding your every move with a gentle precision. With each sway, you're attuned to the reassuring thud of his heart, a steady drumbeat against your face.

This is pure bliss, a moment suspended in time where the world fades away, leaving only the warmth of Jimin's embrace cocooning you. In his arms, everything feels perfect, an oasis of serenity where the outside world ceases to exist. The notion of staying like this forever whispers through your mind, tempting you with the idea that in this moment, nothing else matters.

An unexpected interruption pulls you from the enchanting dance with Jimin as you feel a gentle poke at your shoulders. Raising your eyes from the comforting haven of Jimin's shoulders, you discover his brother, Jungkook, extending his hand toward you. 

A soft smile graces your lips as your gaze momentarily lingers on Jimin before shifting back to Jungkook, acknowledging his presence with a subtle nod.

“May I have a dance?”Jungkook extends a hand toward you. Raising an eyebrow, you chuckle at the unexpectedness of the situation. Jimin, rolling his eyes playfully, releases his hold on your hips. The absence of his touch sends a chill through you, making you realize how accustomed you've become to his warmth. 

Despite the surprise, you accept Jungkook's invitation, placing your hand in his with a playful grin.

You allow him to whisk you into the swirling throng of dancers. A swift glance around the room reveals Jimin now twirling your sister on the dance floor, and Yoongi seated at a table observing Soo-ah's graceful moves as she dances with Hoseok.

“Beautiful dress,” Jungkook's compliment resonates as he gracefully twirls you around, mirroring the enchanting moves Jimin bestowed upon you moments before.

Gratitude colors your smile as you share, “Thank you. Jimin got it for me.” 

Pressed against Jungkook's chest, you sense the rapid thud of his heart beneath your hands, leaving you curious about the unspoken rhythms pulsing through him.

“He has good taste. I actually wanted to ask you something,” his words drip with a blend of confidence and mischief, the edges of his smile flirting with a smirk. Tingling sensations cascade through your body as he hints at something more, leaving you on the precipice of anticipation.

“How’s Jessi been?”

His unexpected question catches you off guard, and as you pull away, you're momentarily flabbergasted. The realization of why he's asking dawns on you, and a laugh escapes your lips, dancing with a mix of surprise and amusement.

“Happy,” happiness fills your voice as you whisper the word, swaying in rhythm with him to the beat of the music.

“Good. I talked to her after you left, you know?” His words hang in the air, and you catch a mischievous glint in his eyes. He smiles, chuckling softly, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine as he leans in, speaking softly into your ear after dropping the bombshell.

He did? You didn’t know that. Surprise colors your voice as you inquire, leaning in slightly to catch every detail. 

“What do you mean you talked to her?” You press, your curiosity piqued, eager for him to unravel the mystery he's hinted at.

“I just told her she shouldn’t be so hard on you and that you’re sisters and that’s important, you know?”

Heartwarming warmth floods your chest at his words, and you find yourself captivated by his genuine concern for your relationship with Jessi. His comforting smile, revealing a hint of sincerity, assures you that he genuinely cares about the bonds that connect you both.

“Ah, so you’re the one I should thank,” amused by the unexpected ally, you laugh, realizing Jungkook's subtle intervention played a part in smoothing things over.

“No, I just—” His words hang in the air, but you swiftly interject, unwilling to let him complete his sentence. 

“You've been spending more time with Jessi, haven't you?” You pry, a knowing smile playing on your lips. It's amusing how effortlessly he crumbles, a subtle dance of emotions flickering across his face. He tries to conceal it, but the transparency of his expressions betrays a tale he's unwilling to share.

He appears to be fumbling for words, caught in the delicate dance of secrecy. Perhaps he's reluctant to share, so you playfully add, “I've noticed you haven't batted an eye at any other girls at this party,” a teasing smile dancing on your lips. His reaction is priceless, a momentary lapse where he feels laid bare and exposed.

Silence hangs in the air, and you decide to let him off the hook, allowing him a moment of peace. However, you can't help but find it endearing that your sister wields such a powerful influence over him. There's a touch of amusement in the revelation, a whimsical twist in the dynamics that brings a smile to your lips.

Abruptly, the music mellows, drawing your focus to the soulful melody of a piano gracefully dancing through the air.

Unexpectedly, the enchanting notes of a piano fill the air, and you're startled to discover that Jimin is the maestro behind the captivating melody. His fingers delicately caress the piano keys, producing a hauntingly beautiful melody that captivates the entire room. 

The lively dance floor comes to a hushed standstill as the mesmerizing notes draw everyone toward chairs and the couch, creating an impromptu audience enchanted by Jimin's musical prowess.

His fingers glide with exquisite grace across the keys, coaxing a melody that feels both familiar and utterly enchanting. Drawn to the magnetic pull of the music, you find a seat on the couch, positioning yourself close to Jimin, eager to immerse yourself fully in the magic he's weaving with each delicate keystroke.

As he plays, he transcends the ordinary, bathed in an ethereal glow, his tousled blonde hair cascading gently around his face. With closed eyes, he immerses himself in the music, fingers gracefully pirouetting on the keys. A nervous nibble on his lip is followed by a rhythmic sway of his head, perfectly attuned to the piano's cadence. 

Then, with a voice as soft as a whispered secret, he begins to sing, weaving familiar lyrics into the air, each note carrying a tender reassurance that wraps around you like a warm embrace.

A hushed reverence blankets the entire room, each note from the piano and every word that escapes Jimin's lips a mesmerizing symphony, weaving a spellbinding silence that captivates the collective breath of everyone present.

In the tender embrace of the piano's melody, Jimin serenades the room with the soulful lyrics of a John Legend song, each word an intimate confession that resonates with the universal longing for acceptance and love. 

“‘Cause all of me loves all of you. Love all your curves and all your edges. All your perfect imperfections. Give your all to me, I’ll give my all to you,” his voice, a velvet caress, turns the lyrics into the very essence of romance materialized, casting a spell on every heart in the room.

Your heart dances to an erratic rhythm within your chest, intoxicated by a flood of emotions that defy definition, a kaleidoscope of love and sentiments swirling through your being.

He effortlessly continues to serenade, his voice a sublime melody that transcends beauty. Each note carries the weight of raw emotion, a soulful outpouring that echoes the depths of his soul and leaves you spellbound, as if he's baring his heart for the entire world to witness.

Emotion swells within you, threatening to spill over in the form of glistening tears, yet you valiantly resist the urge, determined to savor every precious moment of Jimin's soul-stirring performance. 

His voice, a gentle caress, and the delicate piano notes intertwine, creating a tapestry of emotions that resonates deep within your being.

As the final notes gracefully fade into the air, a thunderous applause erupts, reverberating through the room like a shared heartbeat. The resounding cheers and admiration affirm what you already knew — Jimin's musical prowess is a revelation, an ever-unfolding enchantment that leaves everyone, including yourself, captivated and yearning for more.

Jimin rises from the piano, the resonance of his final chord lingering in the air like a sweet melody. He strides purposefully toward you, his fingers gently entwining with yours. A magnetic pull between your hands beckons you to a silent adventure, and as your eyes lock onto the point where your skin meets his, he murmurs, “Please, come with me.”

With a determined grip, he whisks you away into the cool night air, attempting to drown out the exuberant hollers and shouts of the gathering behind. Despite your efforts, a subtle blush creeps onto your cheeks, responding to the playful symphony of sounds that trails behind you.

Beyond the backdoor, on their terrace, he envelops you, arms forming a gentle yet assertive barrier against the wall, creating an intimate space where the world outside ceases to exist.

Your breath quickens, and your thoughts race to catch up with the whirlwind of sensations. Time seems to accelerate as his lips draw near—is this the moment he's about to capture you in a kiss?

His scent, intoxicating and divine, envelops you as his lips playfully graze your cheek. A breathy sigh escapes your lips as he leans in close, his voice a tantalizing murmur in your ear, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

“Brothers talk,” his hushed words in your ear send an electric jolt through your entire body. Your mouth falls agape, a rush of warmth flooding your core, and your heart races at a dizzying 200 beats per minute. Wait— did he just say that?

The air outside suddenly feels stifling, as if the temperature has spiked, and every breath you take is saturated with Jimin's intoxicating musky scent, leaving you deliciously dizzy and struggling to catch your breath.

His words hang in the air, a provocative challenge that leaves you breathless. The danger of his statement lingers, creating a charged atmosphere filled with uncertainty and anticipation.

“I know you slept with Jungkook,”  as his words caress your ear, you remember the look on his face when he saw you pressed up against the barn with Jungkook’s dick deep inside your cunt, and the thought sends a jolt through your entire being. Somehow you feel guilty, you don’t know if it’s because he witnessed something he definitely shouldn’t have or because you just shouldn’t have slept with Jungkook in the first place. 

His figure presses against you, and you struggle to maintain composure, your heart's rapid beats echoing the intensity of the moment. The fine line between vulnerability and acceptance blurs, and you grapple with the consequences of his whispered revelation.

He positions one of his solid thighs between yours, applying a subtle yet deliberate pressure against your core, causing an involuntary gasp to escape your lips. The electric tension in the air intensifies, as you find yourself ensnared in the grip of a desire that threatens to unravel all sense of restraint.

And in a breathy whisper, he confesses in your ear, “And I don't mind. I like you.” 

His words, a symphony of desire, reverberate through your being, finally acknowledging the unspoken connection that has woven its way between you.

With a tender touch, you draw his upper body back, craving an unhindered view of his face. Your eyes lock with his, passion swirling in those blown-out orbs. The perfection of this man captivates you. 

“I like you too, Jimin,” you confess in a breathless murmur, your words tinged with a subtle lick of anticipation.

In the charged silence, your eyes lock in an unspoken understanding, the air thick with desire that could be sliced with a knife. 

You find yourself entranced by the sight of his soft, plush lips, and he mirrors the sentiment, slowly closing the gap between you. Inch by agonizing inch, the magnetic pull intensifies, promising a moment of electric desire. However, the spell is abruptly broken as the door swings open, startling you both and freezing his movements in their tracks.

Jungkook's eyes widen in surprise as he catches sight of you, a sheepish chuckle escaping his lips. “Oops, my bad,” he admits, an apologetic smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

As the tension dissipates into laughter, the night seems to lighten around you. Jimin's laughter intertwines with yours, creating a symphony of joy. In the darkness, his eyes sparkle with mirth, and Jungkook, making a swift exit, leaves you and Jimin bathed in the glow of shared amusement.

“Should we go back inside?” 

Jimin's gaze lingers on you, his question hanging in the air like a promise. His soft smile invites you to rejoin the lively atmosphere inside, and with a subtle step back, he extends a hand, a silent invitation that speaks volumes, allowing you to catch your breath in the sweet aftermath of intimacy.

You draw in a breath, letting the weight of the night settle on your shoulders before exhaling a sigh of surrender. 

“Yeah,” you respond, the word carrying the echo of unspoken thoughts and the unexplored tension lingering in the air.

You're gearing up Marshmallow for a ride with Jessi, the anticipation building between you two as you prepare for a sisterly escapade, just the rhythmic sounds of hooves and shared laughter ahead.

Jessi swiftly readies Cinnamon, her determination matching the spirited horse, while you expertly secure the bridle on Marshmallow. Together, you step outside the barn, ready for the open trail that awaits, the promise of adventure lingering in the air.

“I’ll show you a river that’s close by,” your sister's eyes light up with excitement as she swings her leg over Cinnamon's sleek body, her enthusiasm contagious. Eagerly, you mirror her actions, mounting Marshmallow with a sense of anticipation, ready to discover the hidden wonders she promises by the nearby river.

Your horses pound the ground beneath them as you gallop together, the exhilarating rush of wind tousling your neatly braided hair. 

The rhythmic percussion of hoofbeats serenades your ears, echoing amidst towering trees that frame the distant silhouette of majestic mountains. Following Jessi's lead, the breathtaking revelation of a picturesque river emerges, its beauty captivating your senses with an awe-inspiring allure.

The expansive river unfolds before you, adorned with subtle cliffs in the distance. As you guide your horses down to the water's edge, the radiant sun bathes you in its warm embrace. Dismounting, you find a peaceful spot on the grass, surrounded by the tranquil symphony of nature's melody.

Jessi turns to you, her eyes filled with warmth, and confesses, “I’ve really missed you, you know?”

You respond with a gentle smile, “I’ve missed you too.”

As she absentmindedly picks at the grass, the horses peacefully grazing nearby, she continues, “Not just since you came back. I've missed you since your dad took you away.”

Her words tug at your heart, resonating with the pain you've long carried since your dad took you away. It's a shared ache, a silent acknowledgment of the wounds that time couldn't completely heal.

In a tender embrace, you whisper through tear-filled eyes, “But we're together now,” sealing the unspoken promise of shared moments, mending the fragments of time lost.

Her smile brightens as she leans into your sideways hug, asking, “Yes. I was actually wondering if there's any project on the ranch you'd like to take on. Anything that sparks your interest and passion?”

Excitement bubbles within you as you pull away from her, sharing, “Oh, yeah, there is something. Sometime ago, Jimin mentioned those wild horses Yoongi's working on. I think that could be a fascinating project.” Your smile radiates with genuine enthusiasm.

Your sister returns your smile, saying, “Yeah, just talk to Yoongi, and when the wild horses come back, you can go with him.”

“I also long for our time together, just staying close and catching up,” you express with tears welling in your eyes, your voice carrying the weight of genuine emotion.

“I’d like that too,” she responds warmly, enveloping you in another heartfelt hug.

Time seems to waltz away as you sit in companionable silence beside your sister, the rhythmic grazing of your horses creating a soothing melody. It's only when Jessi finally breaks the tranquil stillness that you realize how deeply immersed you both were in the moment.

A knowing smile plays on your lips as Jessi gently broaches the subject, “I noticed you and Jimin,” she starts, and you respond with a subtle nod.

A playful poke to your shoulder accompanies Jessi's words, “He's genuinely into you,” she declares, her smile carrying a warmth that hints at her approval of whatever there’s blossoming between you and Jimin. 

With a light laugh, you confess, “I like him too,” accompanied by a gentle rub to the spot on your shoulder where Jessi playfully poked you.

“But it's still kind of strange, you know? I mean, I slept with his brother. Won't it just make things awkward?” You sigh, laying bare the complexities of your thoughts. As much as you're drawn to Jimin and appreciate his assurance that it doesn't bother him, the idea of ‘brothers talk’ lingers in your mind— whatever that means. You're determined to avoid any comparisons, not just for their sake but for yours as well.

Jessi bursts into laughter, her high, infectious giggles prompting you to turn your head toward her. “Okay, I partly understand. But come on, they're only half-brothers. We're all just people here; it's not like it's something incestuous or anything.”

You sigh, conceding that she might be right. 

Then, you catch on to her words. ‘We’re all people here,’ you repeat, leaning in closer to her. 

“You and Jungkook?” You inquire, a glint of understanding in your eyes, and she responds with a knowing smile, “We’re just friends though. I’m still seeing Namjoon.”

“So you don’t think it’s weird that I slept with Jungkook?” You inquire, genuine curiosity lacing your words.

“No. Jungkook has slept with so many people, why would I care?” Jessi laughs, and after a moment of contemplation, you offer a nonchalant shrug, conceding that she might have a point.

Nestling into her embrace, a gentle sigh escapes your lips, “Thank you.”

Her gaze meets yours, confusion etched across her features, “What for?”

A gentle chuckle escapes your lips, and a surge of warmth fills your chest, “For being my incredible sister.”

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

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

[kingofbodyrolls]

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

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

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: pet names, unprotected sex; public sex (they do it in a cattle truck parked at the side of the road), oral: blowjob, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, breast play, nipple play, a lot of kissing, creampie, cockwarming, hair pulling, marking, a lot of sexual tension again, praise kink, dirty talk and fluff. 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 14.4k 🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

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

🐴Now playing 💿 “Say You’re Mine” by Kate Voegele. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: as I’m writing this note, I’m going to post chapter 6. I still feel very discouraged to post… I love the few of you who have taken time out to comment and reblog with nice words— truly 🥹 but the engagement (notes/kudos) are just not what they used to. I’m at that place where I’m thinking about not posting anymore, at all. Like posting gives me this horrible feeling? Like seeing 30 notes, when I used to get 200-300 😭 I know I’m complaining, and I don’t usually do this, but I’m gonna address it. I’m a firm believer in, if something doesn’t give you something good, but instead something bad, drop it. So, there’s a very high chance that this series will be my last in a while. I can’t speak for the future— I’m still gonna write, because that truly gives me so much joy, I’m just not gonna share it (at the moment). Maybe later, when I feel better about it. And maybe I’ll change my mind, who knows? But right now, I don’t feel good about posting this series, and it’s hard, because I love it so fucking much, but I know it’s not for everyone… but yeah, anyway, I’ll crawl back to the whole I came from. Happy reading! 🌸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, of course.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jimin-ah!”

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

Jimin’s groan vibrates against your chest, igniting a firestorm of desire within you. With a primal cry, you throw your head back, surrendering to the overwhelming tide of lust threatening to consume you, its intensity nearly palpable in the charged air between you.

Your breaths come in erratic bursts, your voice strained with the intensity of your arousal. “I’m so close,” you gasp, the words escaping between ragged breaths like a desperate plea for release.

His lips part from your breast with a soft, wet sound, only to enclose around the other nipple, his warmth enveloping you in a delicious sensation. A high-pitched moan escapes your lips, the sound echoing in the confined space.

With every roll of your hips, the coil tightens, drawing you closer to the edge until it finally snaps, sending a surge of pleasure coursing through your body. 

As you press your core against his thigh, the warmth spreading, you feel the liquid of your orgasm staining your panties. Panting and frustrated, you huff, the intensity of the moment leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Jimin releases your breast, urgency in his movements as he dives in for a kiss, his hands eagerly pulling your body closer to his, seeking deeper connection and intimacy.

“You’re breathtaking, my love. Watching you lose yourself like that—it’s pure magic,” he whispers, his gaze locked with yours as you catch your breath, cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, a radiant glow emanating from your flushed skin.

With a playful grin, you trail your lips along his neck, leaving a mark of your passion on his warm skin. His laughter mixes with a soft hiss of pleasure, and when you draw back, a crimson imprint adorns his neck.

You lock eyes with him, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper, “Jimin, I want to suck your dick.”

He rakes a hand through his tousled hair, a mix of frustration and desire evident in his gaze. You, with your tempting proposition, ignite a fire within him that he struggles to contain. With a bitten lip, he observes as you gracefully lower yourself into the cabin of the truck, the anticipation palpable in the air. It’s so spacious, so you have no trouble fitting down there.

You watch with a hungered gaze as he spreads his thighs invitingly, a silent invitation you’re more than eager to accept. 

Your fingertips trace the contours of his thighs, feeling the tension beneath his skin, eliciting soft moans from his lips. Your eyes flicker downward, drawn irresistibly to the prominent bulge straining against his pants.

You tease him through the fabric, reveling in the way his body responds to your touch. With a sly grin playing on your lips, you deftly unbuckle his belt, eagerly anticipating the sight that lies beneath. As you unzip his pants, his form is revealed clad in sleek black boxers, igniting a primal desire within you. The hunger to taste him, to feel him against your tongue, intensifies with each passing moment, fueling your anticipation to devour him once more.

With a heated gaze, he eagerly lifts his hips, granting you easier access to unveil his eager cock. You swiftly guide both his pants and boxers down his strong thighs, all the way down to the floor of the truck.

You trace the contours of his scars with tender fingers, your voice barely above a whisper as you admire each mark etched into his skin. “Still so beautiful,” you murmur, your breath mingling with the heated air between you.

His dick springs to life, the head flushed red, proudly standing tall with veins tracing a map of desire on his creamy skin. You lick your lips in anticipation, locking eyes with him as you inch closer to his cock, your gaze ablaze with unmistakable lust.

You tease him with the tip of your tongue, while your hand wraps around the base of his dick. As your tongue makes contact with the sensitive head of his cock, a deep, guttural moan escapes his lips, his hands tangling in your hair, gripping you with urgency and desire.

With a lustful and mischievous glint in your eyes, you envelop him with your mouth, tracing circles around the sensitive head of his dick with your tongue. The taste of his precum teases your senses, urging you to take him deeper. Giving head isn’t usually your favorite, but there’s something undeniably alluring about Jimin’s cock—it’s not just his physical beauty, but the way he responds to your touch, igniting a fire within you that compels you to pleasure him with every ounce of your being.

You dive into your task with fervor, enveloping him with your warmth and intensity, all while maintaining an unwavering gaze that locks you in a fiery lust. His eyes, deep pools of desire, reflect back at you, almost black with longing, his breaths growing deep and quick as his fingers instinctively grasp at your hair, gently pulling you closer, urging you on in encouragement.

“Fuck. You’re so good, babe,” he hisses through gritted teeth as you create a delicious vacuum with your mouth, humming softly around him, each vibration sending electric waves down his spine, igniting a fire of pleasure that consumes him.

The sweet ache of his praise fuels you, igniting a fierce determination to please him even more, to push the boundaries of ecstasy and leave him breathless with desire.

With deft fingers, you caress his balls, feeling the twitch of his dick in your mouth, and god you love it. You love watching him like this.

With a satisfying pop, you release his dick, leaving Jimin breathless and utterly entranced as his gaze locks with yours, ablaze with an intensity that ignites your own desire. Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips, a tantalizing prelude to what's next as you eagerly plunge back down on his cock, lost in the electric rhythm of your desire.

With an insatiable hunger, you engulf him, channeling every ounce of your desire into each fervent suction, tracing delicate patterns with your tongue along his sensitive head, and on the slit, eliciting a symphony of shivers cascading down his body.

Despite the strain building in your jaw and the fatigue creeping into your muscles, your determination to please him fuels your every movement. 

You sense the telltale signs of his impending release, the subtle twitching of his muscles, the urgent grip on your hair. “I don’t want to come yet,” he pleads, his voice tinged with desperation. 

Responding to his plea, you halt your ministrations abruptly, withdrawing from him entirely, your tongue sweeping across your lips in anticipation of what’s to come.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” he pleads, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that mirrors your own desire. The raw hunger in his gaze ignites a primal longing within you, an ache that only he can satisfy. Fuck, that’s what you want too.

With a sense of urgency, you maneuver within the confines of the cattle truck, swiftly shedding your pants and panties, casting them aside in a rush of desire. 

“Fuck, Jimin, I want you to fuck me too,” you declare, your hands tenderly cradling his flushed cheeks as you settle back onto his lap, your pussy tantalizingly close to his cock.

You employ one hand to deftly guide his dick to your sobbing wet entrance, the anticipation sending shivers down your spine. With a deep breath, you lower yourself onto him, relishing the exquisite sensation of being filled as he too releases a throaty groan of ecstasy, captivated by the sight of you taking him in.

“Fuck,” you pant, your gaze fixated on the point where your bodies meld together, before shifting to meet Jimin’s gaze—his expression, a symphony of desire and ecstasy, ignites a primal hunger within you. Without hesitation, you plunge into a fervent kiss, pouring every ounce of longing and passion into the connection. As your lips mesh, you begin to undulate your hips, riding him with a rhythm born of pure sin, reveling in the exquisite sensation of his cock stretching you to the brink.

“You’re perfect, so good,” he pants, his words a raspy chorus of admiration and pleasure, his eyes tracing the elegant movements of your body with awe. “You’re taking me so well,” he adds, his voice strained with the overwhelming sensation of being consumed by your warm walls.

His praise reverberates through your core like a symphony, igniting every nerve ending and sending shivers of ecstasy down your spine. With each word, your inner walls contract around him, essentially hugging his dick tighter.

Your fingers trace the lines of his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt, as if mapping the landscape of his body. Gripping his pecs, you find stability in his strength, grounding yourself in the heat of the moment.

Your breath quickens as you trail kisses along his neck, each bite leaving its mark. His moans fuel your desire, igniting a primal need within you. As he thrusts up into you, your bodies synchronize in a dance of pleasure, even though you’re beginning to feel tired.

Your voice trails off, a whisper against his skin as fatigue begins to weigh on your limbs. You lean into his warmth, seeking solace in his embrace. “Jimin,” you murmur again, your breath mingling with his, a plea for rest and intimacy intertwined.

As his fingers trace gentle patterns on your hips, you feel his warm breath against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

“What do you need, baby?” he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet intimacy of the moment, his words a promise of comfort and understanding.

You lock eyes with him, your gaze filled with raw desire and an unmistakable urgency. “I want you to fuck me,” you confess, your voice laced with a mixture of longing and anticipation, your words a plea for him to consume you completely with his passion and desire.

A devilish smirk graces his lips as his hand trails up your spine, sending shivers of anticipation down your body. 

“I am, baby,” he murmurs huskily, his voice dripping with promise, igniting a fire of desire that consumes you entirely.

You melt into his embrace, the heat of the moment fueling your desire. “Fuck me harder,” you breathe against his lips, your voice a sultry whisper laced with determination. “I won’t break.”

His chuckle sends a delicious shiver down your spine, the vibration echoing in every fiber of your being, igniting a wildfire of desire within you.

“Shit, okay,” he breathes, his voice a husky whisper that stirs the air around you. With a firm grip on your hips, he guides you down onto him, then surges up, driving into you with an intensity that steals your breath away. A deep, primal moan tears from your lips as he plunges deep inside, igniting a frenzy of sensation that leaves you gasping for more.

He continues, each powerful thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you, your head nestled against his shoulder as you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his movements.

He breathes heavily against your ear, his voice a husky whisper as he drives into you with unrelenting force, each thrust igniting a new wave of ecstasy. 

“Like this?” He asks, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Fuck, yes!” You plead, your voice a needy whisper against his skin, your nails digging into his back as you arch into his every thrust.

With a low chuckle that resonates through your intertwined bodies, he drives into you with unrestrained fervor, each powerful thrust a testament to his primal desire, relishing the intoxicating blend of your scent and the tight embrace of your walls.

You’re lost in the moment, engulfed by the overwhelming pleasure he brings, his presence inside you sending ripples of ecstasy through every fiber of your being. The sensation of his cock sliding against your walls is pure bliss, akin to the smooth caress of silk.

As he continues to delve deep into you, each thrust ignites a wildfire of sensations, intensifying the pleasure building within. With each rhythmic motion, your body responds eagerly, the telltale signs of an impending climax looming ever closer.

With a longing gaze, you tilt your head, locking eyes with him in a silent exchange of desire. Without hesitation, you immerse yourself in another passionate kiss. The taste of him floods your senses, a tantalizing blend of minty freshness and the delicate essence of roses, leaving you intoxicated with longing.

“Jimin,” you gasp, unable to contain the impending wave of pleasure, “I’m gonna come.” His every thrust plunges you into a depth of sensation that sends shivers coursing through your entire being, curling your toes in exquisite anticipation.

“Come on my dick, baby,” Jimin’s voice rumbles with urgency, sending a surge of desire through your veins. With a primal hunger, he lifts your shirt, exposing your breasts again, and his mouth envelops your nipple, igniting a fiery response deep within you. 

As you clench around him, a symphony of sensations reverberates through your core, eliciting a guttural groan from deep within his chest.

With a few more primal thrusts into your eager pussy, you finally surrender to the electric ecstasy, releasing around him in a deluge of passion. Your liquid coats his dick, creating a slick and intoxicating friction that amplifies the intensity of the feeling of him inside you. The rhythmic collision of skin on skin fills the confined space of the truck, echoing like a symphony of desire. As the air thickens with raw anticipation, you find yourself gasping for breath.

As your body succumbs to the aftershocks of your orgasm, he continues his primal rhythm, holding you firmly by your hips, anchoring you to his powerful embrace even as you collapse against his unyielding frame.

“So fucking pretty,” his husky voice whispers in your ear, igniting a cascade of tingles down your spine, as you involuntarily clench around him once more, teetering on the edge of overstimulation from his intoxicating praise and relentless ministrations.

He releases your breasts, his lips finding solace on your neck, sinking into your flesh with a gentle bite, followed by the tender caress of his tongue. A guttural moan of his name escapes your lips, a symphony of pleasure and desire echoing in the confined space.

“I want you to fill me up, Jimin,” you whisper into his neck, your voice a delicate plea amid the haze of passion and exhaustion.

He responds with a low, guttural hum beneath you, driving into you with an intensity that surpasses anything before, each thrust echoing with a primal need, punctuated by his passionate moans.

You sense his breath quickening, a crescendo of desire matching the urgency of his thrusts. Feeling his movements intensify, you summon your last reserves of energy, rising to meet him with a determination born of desire. As you lock lips once more, then trail kisses down his neck, sinking your teeth in gently, he responds with a sharp hiss, a symphony of passion between you.

“Fuck!” His voice breaks with ecstasy as he calls out your name, surrendering to the waves of pleasure crashing over him. With each pulse of his release, he fills you with his warm seed, your teeth sinking into his neck as you share in his ecstasy. The sensation of him spilling into you sends shivers of satisfaction through your body, fulfilling a craving you’d longed for.

You both pant heavily, the truck filled with the sound of your ragged breaths as you continue to move yourself on him, savoring every lingering tremor of his climax. His spent dick still twitches inside you, a testament to the intensity of his release, fueling your desire to prolong the shared ecstasy.

“Jimin—,” you gasp out his name, feeling the weight of his presence beneath you as you settle onto him, completely immobile, savoring the intimate connection. He responds with a low moan, his lips finding your cheek in a tender kiss, his hand tracing soothing circles down your spine, reassuring and comforting.

Gradually, you feel him soften inside you, a gentle ebb of warmth as his essence melds with yours, mingling intimately. Sensations ripple through you as your own liquid trickles down, probably trailing down to his balls and the seat.

He catches his breath, his gaze lingering on your satisfied expression before diving in to claim your lips. The kiss is fervent, filled with a hunger born from the depths of desire.

You draw back, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you behold the canvas of his neck, now adorned with the marks of your affection.

His chuckle mingles with the remnants of heavy breaths, a playful glint in his eyes as he meets your gaze, “What’s so amusing?”

“You’re a canvas of desire,” you murmur, tracing the love marks with your fingertips, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes, “And I couldn’t resist leaving my mark.”

But you feel sorry, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Yours isn't any different, and I adore every mark you’ve left on me,” he reassures, his words wrapped in warmth as he leans in for another passionate kiss, sealing your love with unspoken desire.

You feel how he’s gone completely soft inside you and you recognize the need to return to reality — to the road ahead or the ailing truck waiting for attention. With a mixture of reluctance and responsibility, you extricate yourself from his embrace, retrieving your garments and draping them over your sated form before making your way back to your seat.

As Jimin hastily pulls up his boxers and pants, the urgency of the moment seems to dissipate, replaced by a shared gaze out the window. The swirling plumes of smoke that had once billowed ominously from the truck’s hood have now vanished, leaving behind a sense of relief.

“I’ll take a look at the engine,” he declares, leaping down from the truck with a determined air, muscles flexing as he pops open the hood. With practiced hands, he swiftly identifies the issue before returning to the cabin, his movements purposeful as he rummages for supplies. “It’s low on radiator fluid,” he announces upon finding the elusive bottle tucked behind the seats. Stepping back outside, he replenishes the tank with focused precision before securing the hood once more. Finally, he re-enters the truck, his expression a mix of satisfaction and determination.

“This should be enough to get us to the auction, then we’ll take it to a mechanic when we get home,” he reassures you with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting a mix of determination and affection as he turns the key in the ignition, the engine purring to life under his expert touch.

“Cool,” you say, a smile playing on your lips as your hand finds purchase on his sturdy thigh, the warmth of his skin beneath your touch reassuring as he navigates the road ahead.

Jimin and Jungkook have been toiling away in their kitchen, conjuring up a tantalizing feast for you and your sister. As the aroma of their culinary efforts wafts through the air, you can’t help but feel a surge of anticipation. So far, this double date is shaping up to be quite the culinary adventure, you chuckle to yourself, eager to see what delights await.

You find yourself perched comfortably in a chair, positioned strategically in the heart of the bustling kitchen. From this vantage point, you observe with growing admiration as the brothers, Jimin and Jungkook, seamlessly collaborate, their movements synchronized like a well-rehearsed dance. Across from you sits Jessi, a fellow spectator to this culinary spectacle. Both Jimin and Jungkook insist that you take a seat and unwind, assuring you that they have everything under control as they labor over the stove, intent on crafting a memorable dinner for all.

Silence reigns in the kitchen, broken only by the rhythmic sounds of knives slicing through crisp vegetables, the gentle hiss of steam rising from pots on the stove, the tantalizing aroma of spices mingling in the air. With each passing moment, the symphony of culinary creation crescendos, from the sizzle of something tantalizing on the grill to the comforting hum of the oven at work. The scent wafting through the kitchen is nothing short of intoxicating, teasing your senses and igniting a fierce hunger within you. Anticipation mounts as you eagerly await the unveiling of the culinary masterpiece being crafted before your eyes, your stomach growling in eager agreement.

“Almost done, you can set up the table,” Jimin’s voice cuts through the bustling kitchen, the heat from the stove causing beads of sweat to glisten on his brow like tiny jewels. With determination etched on his face, he expertly tends to the simmering pots, his culinary prowess on full display. Acknowledging his command, you exchange a nod, your eyes alight with excitement as you and your sister swiftly move to prepare the table, gathering plates, glasses, and utensils with purposeful efficiency. Each clink of silverware against porcelain resonates with anticipation, a prelude to the feast that awaits.

As Jimin and Jungkook enter the room bearing platters of steaming, aromatic dishes, your anticipation peaks, heightened by the mouthwatering scents wafting from the kitchen. With the table meticulously set, every place arranged with care, you eagerly settle into your seat, the air buzzing with the promise of culinary delights. 

You find yourself seated next to your sister, a comforting presence by your side as you engage in this delightful double date. Across the table, Jimin’s warm gaze meets yours, his eyes sparkling with shared excitement for the evening ahead. Jungkook’s presence beside your sister adds to the lively atmosphere, his easy going demeanor balancing the dynamic of the group.

You dine in a symphony of flavors, the tantalizing aromas wafting from the dishes crafted by the skilled hands of Jimin and Jungkook. Conversation takes a backseat to the feast laid before you, each bite a delicious revelation that dances on your taste buds. With every savory morsel, you find yourself drawn deeper into the culinary masterpiece, savoring each moment of culinary bliss crafted by the talented duo.

As the final bite of the delectable meal settles in your stomach, a satisfying fullness envelops you, as if the flavors will linger within you for days to come. With meticulous care, Jungkook and Jimin sweep away the remnants of the feast, gracefully tidying the table and expertly storing the remaining culinary treasures in containers, preserving the essence of the unforgettable meal they’ve crafted.

With a refreshing clink of glass, Jimin hands you a cold beer, his eyes sparkling with warmth as you exchange smiles. As you settle back into your seats at the table, the chilled beverages offer a welcome respite, inviting a relaxed atmosphere to linger a little longer in the company of good food and even better company.

“So how is it going with you and Jimin?” Jungkook’s question hangs in the air, laden with curiosity and a hint of playful mischief. You catch Jimin's gaze briefly before responding, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, the sound blending seamlessly with the warmth of the moment. Jimin’s hands reach out across the table, seeking yours, and as your fingers intertwine, a silent exchange of affection passes between you. 

“Absolutely perfect,” you murmur, your gaze locking with his in a shared understanding that transcends words.

With a tender expression, Jimin’s lips curve into a gentle smile, radiating warmth that fills the room. In response, you tighten your grip on his hand, fingers intertwining in a silent promise of support and affection.

Turning your attention to Jungkook, you inquire with genuine curiosity, “And how about you? Is it getting serious between you two?”

Your sister’s laughter dances beside you, punctuating the air with warmth, while Jungkook’s sudden blush betrays a hidden truth, his gaze averted as though guarding a secret. It’s a departure from his usual confident demeanor. Eventually, it’s your sister who breaks the silence, her voice brimming with happiness, “It definitely is.”

It warms your heart to hear their confirmation. As you take a sip of your beer, you catch Jimin’s gaze fixed on you, a silent question lingering in his eyes. There’s a tension in the air, a question begging to be asked, yet he remains silent, his thoughts concealed behind an enigmatic expression.

“Is there something on my face, babe?” You inquire playfully, your eyes meeting your boyfriend’s as he responds with a gentle chuckle.

“Ah, no. I was just thinking, since Kookie is heading over to your sister’s place, would you like to sleep over tonight?” he asks, shooting a playful scolding glance at Jungkook, who finally seems to snap out of whatever reverie had held him before.

He laughs heartily, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Yeah. We won’t disturb you!”

A flush of warmth spreads across your cheeks as you chuckle softly. “I’d absolutely love that, Jimin.”

His smile widens, his eyes reflecting the depth of his love for you.

You savor the last sip of your beer, relishing the cold it brings as you enjoy the company of your boyfriend, Jungkook, and your sister. Laughter fills the room, weaving through conversations about everything under the sun. Surprisingly, this double date has been more than enjoyable—it’s been a blast. Yet, as the evening draws to a close and farewells are exchanged, anticipation bubbles within you. You can hardly wait to slip into Jimin’s embrace, where the night holds promises of passionate lovemaking until dawn.

Honestly, he really wanted to go to the city, because his girl deserves the best. Yet, here he is, strolling through the quaint streets of the local town, drawn to a shop unknown to him until now. He has never visited this shop before, but now that he has you, everything feels different, better— well, you’ve changed him, made him remember who he is, and now that you’re finally back where you belong, his soul feels complete. The depth of his love for you knows no bounds, a force so powerful it compels him to stand within the walls of the local jewelry store, seeking a symbol of eternity to adorn you with.

Navigating the unfamiliar terrain of the store, he feels like a lost puppy amidst a sea of glittering treasures. Just as he’s pondering his next move, the store lady, with an air of gentle curiosity, approaches him, her presence a beacon of guidance in this maze of possibilities. “Do you need any assistance?” she asks, her voice a soothing melody in the otherwise silent space.

“Yes,” he responds with a chuckle, a nervous energy dancing in his movements as he scratches his head, “I’m looking for the perfect ring for my girlfriend.”

The lady’s smile warms her entire face, her eyes sparkling with understanding. “Ah, of course,” she says gently, “I’d be delighted to assist you in finding the perfect ring for your girlfriend.”

She leads him to the grand displays adorned with a dazzling array of jewelry: rings of all styles, necklaces that shimmer like moonlit waves, earrings that sparkle like stars, and even tiaras fit for a queen.

As he gazes at the stunning array of jewelry, a wave of uncertainty washes over him. Panic begins to gnaw at his insides. Fuck, he realizes he doesn’t know your preferences, and the pressure mounts with each passing second.

“Do you know what she likes?” The lady asks, her voice gentle and understanding. He shakes his head, his brows knit with worry, feeling a pang of guilt for not knowing your preferences.

“You could always go with something classic,” she suggests, her fingers delicately gliding over the gleaming display of timeless engagement rings, each one whispering tales of everlasting love and devotion.

He doesn’t like what he sees; they seem way too classic and basic for you. The ring needs to encapsulate the depth of his undying love for you, to be as unique and extraordinary as you are to him. His gaze wanders across the display until something glimmers and grabs hold of his heartstrings.

A purple gem—amethyst, glinting in the store light, captivating him with its ethereal beauty. 

That’s it. 

That’s the one. 

It feels almost magnetic, drawing him in, as if it's meant for you and you alone. The ring, delicate yet radiant, adorned with a single purple gem set in gold, seems to whisper your name. He’s certain you'll adore it. With unwavering determination, he points to the ring and declares, “That one.”

The lady’s smile widens as she retrieves a key from her pocket, unlocking the front of the glass display with a sense of excitement. “Do you know her ring size?” she asks, her voice brimming with anticipation.

As the store lady hands him the ring, he hears the gentle ding of the door, but he doesn't bother to turn around, his attention fully captured by the gleaming piece in his hand. Taking the ring delicately between his fingers, he turns it around, studying every detail with a mix of admiration and reverence. 

It’s perfect. Just like you.

“Yeah,” he nods, retrieving a slip of paper from his pocket, on which a number is scrawled hastily. He hands it over to the store lady, a silent plea evident in his eyes.

She takes the slip of paper from him, her eyes scanning the number with a gentle smile. “We have this ring in her size out back, just a moment,” she assures him, disappearing momentarily into the depths of the store.

As he waits for the lady to retrieve the ring, he finds himself drawn deeper into the mesmerizing allure of the jewelry before him. Each facet of the ring seems to hold a story untold, its sparkle casting a spell that captivates his senses. Lost in contemplation, he feels a presence at his side, and without turning, he subtly shifts to make room, inviting the stranger to share in the enchantment of the display.

“Jimin?” Jessi’s voice cuts through the air, almost startling him as he stands there, the ring gleaming between his fingertips. Her wide-eyed astonishment mirrors his own, catching him off guard in the midst of his silent contemplation.

“What are you doing here?” The simultaneous inquiry from both him and Jessi fills the air, followed by a burst of laughter that breaks the tension.

“I’m picking up my earring that broke some weeks ago, you?” Jessi’s voice carries a curious undertone, her gaze still fixed on his face, searching for answers.

As her gaze travels downward and lands on the ring in his hand, Jessi’s eyes soften, and she tilts her head ever so slightly. “Is that for my sister?” She asks, her voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and warmth, as if she already knows the answer but wants to hear it from him.

Just as the conversation with Jessi begins to deepen, the store lady returns, cradling a wooden box in her hands. “Here it is,” she announces, breaking the momentary silence with a gentle smile.

As the store lady passes the box to him, retrieving the ring from his grasp, her gaze flits between him and Jessi, a hint of curiosity flickering in her eyes, puzzled.

Jimin gingerly opens the box, unveiling a ring even more captivating than the one he had admired earlier in the display. Jessi leans in, her curiosity piqued, to steal a glance at the exquisite piece nestled within. “It’s stunning,” she murmurs, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

Jimin’s voice carries a hint of uncertainty as he gazes at the ring, seeking reassurance from Jessi. “Do you think she’ll love it?” he asks, his nerves palpable despite his conviction that this ring is the perfect choice.

Jessi’s voice is filled with unwavering certainty as she nods emphatically. “Jimin, trust me. She’ll absolutely love it.”

A sense of urgency colors Jimin’s voice as he pivots to address Jessi directly, his eyes pleading for her understanding. “Promise me, Jess. You can’t breathe a word of this to your sister, okay?”

Her laughter dances in the air, but her promise is firm, wrapped in the sincerity of her smile. “I won’t say a thing,” she assures, her eyes glinting with mischief and excitement.

With anticipation coursing through his veins, he settles the transaction with the store lady, the weight of the ring box in his hand a tangible reminder of his love and commitment. Now, all that’s left is to orchestrate the perfect moment to present it to you, a moment he imagines with fervent hope and longing.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

[kingofbodyrolls]

Such a beautiful love story 🥹😭

I loved everything about it, how oc was not giving a shit about Taehyung, and how that in fact drew him in 🥰✨

And damn the ending, I loved it so much 🥹💜💯

waterloo || (M)

Taehyung is a famous but pessimistic art prodigy who doesn’t believe in love. You are an art student studying in Paris, who sees the world through rose-colored lens and is a certified cheesy romance film enthusiast. And this is your love story.

Or, “Well, it is the city of love. Maybe you just need to fall in love.“

pairing: art prodigy!taehyung x art student!reader

word count: 13k

genre: FLUFF, angst, light tasteful smut

warnings: slow burn, tae kinda sucks at first, I wrote this before my Paris trip, so sorry for any lack of accuracy in describing la ville de l'amour ;)

A/N: inspired by the Mamma Mia 2 & @mylovertaehyung’s submitted prompt!

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

There was a murmur among the lecture hall, you noted, as you sat down in your usual seat, just to the right of your friend Jennie. 

It wasn’t that your contemporary art lecture was usually quiet before your professor arrived, but there was something collective about their words as if everyone was talking about the same thing.

"What’s is everyone talking about?” You pondered to Jennie, eyeing the lovely black and white blouse she had on today. Jennie, unlike you who studied studio art, was a fashion major. There was hardly a day where she didn’t look put together, a hard contrast from you and your usually paint stained clothes.

Back when you first moved to Paris, Jennie had been the first person you had found a friend in. The two of you shared an English class and from then on had managed to have at least one class together per semester.

It had been two years since that first class with her and you were still grateful that circumstance had brought the two of you together. After landing a once in a lifetime scholarship to École Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts de Paris, you feared that you would struggle all alone in the new country but Jennie was in the same boat you were, having moved to Paris all by herself as well.

“Kim Taehyung is a guest speaker today, remember?” She enthused, flashing you an excited smile.

Keep reading

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | seven

🐴Chapter summary: Your heart aches and you feel like you see Jimin everywhere you turn, it feels suffocating. When you suddenly get a call from your sister’s doctor saying that she never made it to her appointment, dread fills your bones. 🐴Chapter title: We Got it Wrong 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: car accident and bleeding from a head wound (I’m sorry 😢), OC is just very sad and angry, there’s a lot of angst and stupidity (thanks to the stupid misunderstanding last chapter), lol. It will get better! But not right now 🥲 And if you feel like you need a reminder where the story is heading, read this spoiler 🫶 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 9.5k 🐴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 💿 “We Got it Wrong” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: in true ‘McLeod’s Daughters’ style, we open up for all the angst in this chapter! It was tough to write, and it was hard not to cry at the end. It’s more on the sad side, but the sun will shine again— don’t you worry! ☀️

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

“Tears for all the damage Tears for all the joy Out in the dark, alone and lost I’ll try not to destroy Any more of what we had Because we got it wrong” - ‘We Got it Wrong’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Despite the persistent yearning for Jimin that echoes in your heart and mind, the refuge you find in your work with the wild horses becomes a haven for forgetting. In their presence, you master the art of maintaining a clear mind and keeping your emotions in check.

Otherwise, the delicate dance of gaining their trust remains elusive, and your efforts to gentle them might as well be in vain.

But sometimes maintaining a clear mind becomes a challenge, especially when the echoes of Jimin’s laughter reverberate from his house.

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips, catching Yoongi’s attention as he glances your way from his perch on the fence.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Yoongi advises, enveloping you in a comforting sideways hug to emphasize his point.

You pout, your bottom lip jutting out, eyes imploring with a softness, “Easy for you to say.”

You sigh once more, a heavy breath escaping, and a profound sense of deflation washes over you. Is this truly the path your life is destined to take?

“He’ll open up to you in due time,” he reassures, and you can’t help but erupt into a manic chuckle, a blend of frustration and disbelief escaping your lips.

“You can’t be serious. It’s been weeks, and he still hasn’t uttered a word to me. I doubt that’s going to change anytime soon,” you express with a mix of disbelief and resignation.

Yoongi relents to your sour mood, descending gracefully from the fence with a resigned sigh, his boots meeting the sand with a soft thud.

Putting your lunch away, you gracefully descend, ready to immerse yourself once more in the comforting distraction of work, hoping to reclaim a few precious hours without the weight of Jimin occupying your mind.

As you stroll alongside Yoongi, you make your way back to the stables, anticipation bubbling within you to witness the progress on the chestnut mare he’s been tirelessly dedicating nearly a month to.

The expansive stable beckons, its generous proportions dwarfing yours, illuminated by a pristine, white light that banishes the garish yellow hues of your own barn. The stalls, noticeably more capacious, could easily accommodate two fully grown horses, prompting an eye roll at the absurd fixation on size—typical men.

With a swift yet gentle command, Yoongi effortlessly guides the mare out of her stall, relying solely on his body language and the cadence of his voice, a testament to the unspoken connection he shares with the spirited creature. “Come.”

His ability to command the horse without the need for a halter or rope leaves you in awe, like witnessing a magician performing an extraordinary feat. As he imparts his tricks to you, you’ve ventured to try them yourself with Mikrokosmos, turning the experience into a magical and exhilarating connection between you and the spirited mare.

Yoongi guiding the brown mare alongside you, you exit the expansive stables and make your way back down to the pens, the rhythmic echo of hooves on the stable floor harmonizing with the subtle sounds of nature surrounding you.

Your gaze shifts to Yoongi, a spark of curiosity brightening your eyes, “Have you thought of a name for her yet?”

A soft chuckle escapes him as you approach the pen, his hand reaching for the gate, “Holly.”

With the gate ajar, Yoongi ushers Holly into the pen with a deliberate calmness. In the center, she stands like a picture of patience, anticipating his gentle approach.

“That’s a cute name,” you remark, a genuine smile playing on your lips as you savor the sweet sound of the horse’s name.

You gracefully ascend, perching on the fence as if it were your throne, offering an unrivaled view of Yoongi’s equine magic.

“What are you gonna do with Holly today?” You inquire with genuine interest, your eyes fixed on the unfolding scene before you. Yoongi approaches Holly with a gentle touch, his hands navigating the contours of the horse like an artist sculpting a masterpiece, eliciting a contented whinny that adds a musical note to the serene atmosphere.

“I’m going to ride her today,” he declares with unwavering assurance, the timbre of his voice resonating with a mix of competence and excitement. As he applies gentle pressure on Holly’s back, the horse remains still, her tail swaying lazily to ward off an annoying insect.

With a graceful ease, Yoongi begins to mount Holly, his movement akin to an acrobat suspended in mid-air, creating a whimsical and amusing spectacle. He’s not fully astride her yet, more like a playful dance over her back, a sight so unique that it tugs at the corners of your lips, tempting a restrained laugh. It’s a display of horsemanship that you’ve never encountered before, leaving you both entertained and captivated.

Holly maintains her poise as Yoongi gracefully hovers on her back, and then, in a seamless motion, he descends to the sandy ground, his landing executed with a finesse that mirrors the effortless connection he shares with the gentle mare.

He recreates the move, elevating himself further on Holly’s back, until he dangles with his head swaying on the opposite side. Your grin widens, and though you’re tempted to burst into laughter, you restrain yourself, not wanting to disturb Holly’s tranquil demeanor.

He glides down once more, approaches her head, and caresses her with a tender touch. The whole interaction exudes a gentle harmony. Returning to her side, he pulls himself up onto her back, effortlessly swinging his leg over her body, finally settling into a comfortable seat.

You’re tempted to applaud, but you resist, not wanting to startle the horse. Yet, your admiration is palpable. This marks Yoongi’s inaugural ride on Holly, a momentous achievement that leaves you thoroughly impressed!

Yoongi stretches over her withers and strokes her neck affectionately, whispering, “Good girl.”

With a subtle click of his tongue and a gentle nudge of his legs, he guides her into a slow walk around the pen, no saddle, bridle, or halter in sight. 

Color you thoroughly impressed.

You watch in silent awe as he maneuvers around the pen, his presence commanding such tranquility that you’re hesitant to disrupt the serene atmosphere by uttering even a breath.

In a breathtaking display, Holly transitions from a slow trot to a graceful canter, and Yoongi remains a steady figure atop her back. His legs maintain a gentle connection with her sides, while his hands rest calmly on her withers. A moment of pure trust unfolds as he releases his grip, extending his arms outward, allowing Holly to dance freely in circles within the pen.

Yoongi embodies the essence of liberation, and a yearning grows within you to share a similar bond of freedom with Mikrokosmos. His infectious smile meets your gaze as Holly releases a resounding snort, prompting a heartfelt chuckle to escape your lips.

Allowing Holly to race freely, Yoongi skillfully guides her by exerting a gentle pull on her withers, coaxing her spirited gallop into a graceful deceleration, transforming the wild rhythm into a serene and controlled stroll.

The distant rumble of an approaching car draws your attention away from the serene scene in the pen, and you reluctantly shift your gaze towards the source. To your dismay, Jimin’s girlfriend arrives, her car pulling up with an elegance that seems to mirror her captivating allure. Ugh. Why does she have to look that good? And why does she look so familiar?

You scrutinize the unfolding scene, watching with a mix of bitterness and resentment as she gracefully emerges from her car. Jimin, despite his limp, crosses the distance to warmly embrace her. The sight sends a surge of conflicting emotions through you – your heart tightens, your blood simmers, and your hands involuntarily clench, the tension palpable as your teeth grind together in silent frustration.

A whirlwind of emotions engulfs you, an uncontrollable storm raging within. The intensity of your feelings is staggering – a deep-seated resentment towards Deiji, a lingering hatred for Jimin himself, yet paradoxically, a persistent love that refuses to fade. The turbulence within you paints an intricate mosaic of conflicting emotions, leaving you helplessly caught in the tumultuous crosscurrents of your heart.

As Jimin leans in to bestow a chaste kiss upon her cheek, bitterness seeps through your veins, staining your soul with an ominous shade of black. Above you, an unseen tempest brews, dark clouds of despair hanging heavily, casting a shadow over your heart.

Time, instead of healing, has only fueled the flames of pain, hurt, anger, and sadness within you. Over two weeks have passed since the last encounter with Jimin and his girlfriend, yet the agony persists, as raw and piercing as if it were yesterday. Rather than easing, the passage of time seems to stoke the embers, transforming your emotions into a relentless storm of fury and jealousy that intensifies with each passing day.

Suppressing the bitterness welling up within, you shift your focus back to Yoongi and Holly. Dwelling on Jimin, the man who once went out of his way for you, retrieving you from the city, proves too agonizing for your fragile heart. 

The nagging question persists: why won’t he engage in conversation, fight for you, like he did then?

“.... Mikrokosmos?” You snap back to the present, catching the tail end of Yoongi’s question. Offering him an apologetic look, you realize you’ve been lost in your own thoughts, missing every word he carefully uttered.

You pivot to fully engage with Yoongi, deliberately tuning out the sight of the content couple in the background. “I’m sorry, I got lost in my own world. What were you saying?” you inquire with a sheepish smile, noting that Yoongi has dismounted Holly and is now giving her affectionate pats.

Yoongi draws in a breath before repeating himself, his gaze fixed on you. “I asked if you want to work on Mikrokosmos?”

With a released breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you offer him a nod. Working on Mikrokosmos is exactly what you need. As you descend from the fence, Yoongi swings open the gate, leading Holly to a paddock where she joins the other horses, letting you both focus on the task at hand.

You stride purposefully into the stables, the familiar scent of hay and warm wood enveloping you as you approach Mikrokosmos, peacefully resting in her stall.

You swing open the stall door, the hinges creaking softly in the quiet stable. With a warm smile and a voice that echoes genuine affection, you greet Mikrokosmos, “Hi Kosmos.”

Mikrokosmos ambles over, her velvety nose brushing against your outstretched hand, and she playfully nibbles, almost giving it a gentle lick. Your laughter fills the air as you shift to pat her neck. Stepping back, she follows, and you guide her down to the pen. With a practiced motion, you swing the gate open, and as she steps inside, you secure it, sealing the quiet world between you and the rest of the bustling stable.

Perched atop the fence, Yoongi assumes his vantage point, keenly observing your every move with Mikrokosmos, a silent maestro overseeing a harmonious dance between human and horse.

You guide Mikrokosmos around the pen, allowing her to explore the boundaries with curious sniffs and gentle trots. Positioned in the center, your anticipation grows as you await the elusive connection, the ’join up’ that has eluded you thus far. A subtle worry creeps in, questioning if this profound bond will ever materialize between you and the majestic creature.

“Relax and let her come to you,” Yoongi advises from his perch on the fence, a keen awareness of the frustration simmering within you.

Another sigh escapes you, a gentle release that carries your thoughts through your body and spills out through your fingertips. Surrendering to the moment, you embrace the idea that sometimes losing control is the only way to regain it. With a deliberate clearing of your mind and a slow, calming breath, you reassure yourself that everything will indeed be fine.

You surrender to the quietude, closing your eyes as you inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. 

As you focus on Mikrokosmos with closed eyes, the subtle rustle of something against the fence flares your senses. Internally cursing Yoongi for disrupting your concentration, your heightened hearing captures the gradual crescendo of hoofbeats, a rhythmic melody slowing to a gentle cadence.

The hoofbeats draw nearer, and your heart matches their slow, rhythmic approach. A mysterious sensation caresses your back, creating an anticipation that hangs in the air like a delicate promise.

With a resounding whinny, Mikrokosmos echoes her presence against your back, a triumphant melody of connection. Pride surges through you like a victorious anthem. Overwhelmed with joy, you pivot slowly, locking eyes with your equine companion, and tenderly pat her forehead, sealing the bond that has blossomed between you.

As Mikrokosmos revels in her joined connection with you, a swell of pride, you become aware of Yoongi’s gratified grin. Yet, amidst the shared triumph, your eyes catch another figure— Deiji, leaning casually against the fence, her smile mirroring the prideful moment as an unexpected witness to your accomplishment.

“That was amazing!” Her voice practically squeaks with amazement, prompting an eye roll from you.

She glances between you and Yoongi, her voice carrying a sweet and eager tone as she proposes, “I was wondering if I could assist you with the horses?” Despite her happy demeanor, you can’t quite shake off the underlying discomfort you feel in her presence.

You don’t want her help. Refusing her offer with a swift and almost brusque retort, “No.” The refusal spills from your lips with an unintended edge, its abruptness catching even Yoongi off guard. He arches an eyebrow at your firm response, a smirk playing on his lips as he finds amusement in your conviction.

Undeterred by your rejection, Jimin’s girlfriend gracefully accepts your refusal, her smile unwavering. “Okay. Please let me know if I can help you somehow,” she offers, her kindness contrasting with the tension lingering in the air.

With a hint of sarcasm, you snide at her, the forced smile on your face barely concealing the complex emotions within. You nod in acknowledgement, and as she releases her grip on the fence, she retreats gracefully towards the house, leaving you with a bittersweet taste in the air.

You stand firm in your independence, a resolute desire echoing in your mind — you don’t want assistance, especially not from her.

Yoongi gracefully descends from the fence, his presence blending seamlessly with the rhythmic strokes of your hand against Mikrokosmos, creating a moment where time seems to pause, encapsulating the essence of your shared connection with the wild horses.

“Did you really have to be so rude to her?” Yoongi chuckles beside you, his laughter a dissonant melody to the tension in the air, and you can’t help but mutter a few choice words under your breath, realizing the complexity of your emotions.

You pivot towards him, a tempest of frustration swirling in your gaze. “She is the enemy!”

His laughter persists, revealing the expanse of his gums. You exhale sharply. “I can’t have her clouding my thoughts while I’m trying to find solace in my work.”

He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Nah, I get it. You’re just yearning for that Park dick to fill you up,” he teases, winking playfully.

Your face heats up, a crimson blush spreading across your cheeks, and you shoot Yoongi an indignant glare. In a hushed tone, laced with irritation, you hiss, “Yoongi!” — wary not to disturb Mikrokosmos with your sudden outburst.

“Are we going on another epic grocery haul?” you tease with a laugh, watching Ara expertly navigate the car towards town. The anticipation builds as you approach, eager to snatch up all the essentials Jessi has meticulously scribbled down on her ever-growing list.

The town unfolds on the horizon, and a surge of excitement bubbles within you. It’s peculiar how a routine grocery trip can evoke such giddiness. Perhaps it’s the prospect of escaping the looming presence of Jimin and Deiji that adds an unexpected thrill to the mundane task.

So far, you’ve become a master of avoiding the couple. If Jimin harbors no desire for conversation, you find yourself questioning the necessity of extending the courtesy to him or his girlfriend.

Admittedly, you’re toeing the line of childish behavior, but damn it, it’s hard to resist. The complexity of your feelings for Jimin unfolds like a tangled web. While you harbor genuine affection, it feels like your chance slipped away, and he’s unwilling to grant you the opportunity to clarify or even listen. You grasp the sting of being picked last, yet you can’t help but wonder – did you fail to convey your feelings clearly enough for Jimin to comprehend?

Damn it, you wish Yoongi never kissed you. Then this wouldn’t be happening. 

In a moment of exasperation, a heavy sigh escapes your lips. Despite the internal mandate to banish thoughts of Jimin from your mind, his presence permeates your thoughts once more, defying your attempts at self-control.

Ara skillfully guides the car into a coveted parking spot near the grocery store carts, strategically positioning you for an efficient grocery haul. The convenience of proximity promises a seamless transfer of bags from store to car, sparing you unnecessary hassle in loading up your supplies.

“I’ll go grab a cart,” you declare, pushing the car door handle. Ara, Soo-ah, and Ha-rin follow suit, emerging from the vehicle with shared anticipation for the shopping expedition.

As your fingers inch toward the cart handle, your attention is abruptly drawn to a familiar figure across the street.

Park Jimin.

Jimin and Deiji share a moment across the street, his whispered words causing her to blush and giggle. Even though their conversation is out of earshot, the infectious sound of her laughter echoes in your mind. With a scuff, you finally grasp the handlebar of the cart, but your attention remains fixed on Jimin.

He seems happy, a devilish smile gracing his lips, and you yearn for that happiness to be aimed in your direction. His fingers play through Deiji’s hair in a seductive dance, and the sight of her biting her bottom lip, restraining a moan you presume, ignites a surge of anger within you. Red dots line your vision as Jimin’s hand trails down to the small of her back, and all you can see is an intense shade of red.

“What’s the holdup?” Soo-ah quips from behind, but met with your silence, she traces the direction of your gaze instead.

“Oh no, sweetheart…” she murmurs, her voice tinged with sadness, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. A stifled sniff escapes you, tears threatening at the edge of your waterline. 

No, crying is the last thing you want to do now. Hold it in.

Your gaze remains fixated on Jimin’s intimate gestures with Deiji, and a suffocating sensation grips your chest. It’s as if the air has grown thin, and a nauseating wave washes over you, threatening to spill an unsettling mix of emotions.

The other girls gather around you, creating a supportive barrier on either side, momentarily diverting your attention from the magnetic presence of Jimin. Their friendship acts as a shield against the emotional turmoil, offering a brief respite from the intense gravitational pull of Jimin’s figure.

“I just don’t understand,” you mumble, your gaze fixated on the ground, a wave of queasiness washing over you. As you lift your eyes, they inadvertently meet Jimin’s across the road in the parking lot. The irresistible brown orbs lock onto yours, causing your breath to hitch, and your body freezes. His expression is a tumultuous mix of anger and spite, a hurtful glare that pierces through you. A small voice in your mind begins to wonder if this spiteful display is born out of pettiness, and the question lingers – would he truly be so petty?

Your heart clenches, and your hands tighten their grip on the cart’s handlebar. Will this overwhelming ache ever dissipate, or are you destined to carry this horrible feeling forever?

Soo-ah and the rest of the girls guide you away from the cart station, gently urging you into the store. Everything inside becomes a blurry haze. A strange ringing noise echoes in your ears, its origin unclear. Your heart aches with an intensity you’ve never felt, and you start to question if you’re beginning to get sick.

“Can you manage the rest? I’m not feeling well…” Your voice carries a low, deflated tone, and the sensation of your vision spinning intensifies, leaving you dizzy. The unfamiliar feeling bewilders you. The girls nod, concern evident in their eyes, yet they allow you to leave their company.

You navigate your way out of the grocery store at a deliberate pace, locate the car, unlock it, swing the door open, and plop down in the seat. Leaving the door ajar, you take in the fresh air, hoping it might provide some relief.

Exhaling deeply, you sense your heartbeat gradually slowing down, but a nagging question lingers in your mind. Is illness creeping in, or is it the persistent ache in your chest that intensifies every time Jimin comes into view? The unexplained heaviness remains, leaving you searching for answers amid the uneasy beats of your heart.

As the girls return with a brimming cart full of groceries, you muster a wry smile. Once the car is loaded, they encircle you, offering tender hugs that carry warmth and reassurance, their silent promise echoing that, despite the current storm, everything will eventually find its way to calm waters.

You secure the seat belt, and Ha-rin takes the wheel, steering you homeward. Your head finds a resting place against the window, and you gaze out with a distant stare. The scenery, painted in hues of green, blue, and gentle yellows, unfolds like a soothing watercolor, gradually lulling your weary mind into a momentary state of tranquility.

Against the cool window, you surrender to the embrace of sleep, only to find yourself entangled in dreams where deep brown eyes pierce through you with a spiteful glare, carrying the weight of disappointment. Haunted by strands of blonde hair, your heart clenches, and amidst the fragments of slumber, you grapple with the question of how things went so awry between you and Jimin.

Every time you’re working with the wild horses, the world fades away. Jimin’s laughter, and the image of his overly joyful girlfriend, lose their vividness in the company of these majestic creatures. You don’t understand how a person can be so happy, it’s like a mystery you can’t unravel. Maybe it’s because your own mood mirrors the darkness of obsidian, overshadowing any hint of joy.

Perched atop the fence, your gaze follows Yoongi’s skilled hands at work on Holly. Today’s session involves a saddle on her back and a bridle, and you can’t help but marvel at the seamless harmony between them. Holly responds with grace, a testament to Yoongi’s expertise. In this transformative process, she inches closer to the coveted status of a fully trained stock horse, a journey Yoongi confidently assures you she’s on the brink of completing.

Your eyes trace Yoongi’s every move as he guides Holly in a mesmerizing gallop around the pen. The atmosphere is charged with a sense of calm, an unspoken understanding between rider and horse. Holly’s spirit, once untamed, now dances gracefully under Yoongi’s expert guidance, creating a scene that is both captivating and harmonious.

Yoongi’s question slices through your contemplation, catching you off guard like a sudden gust of wind. “Do you want to go for a ride?” His words, a tempting invitation, hang in the air, coaxing you to escape the confines of your thoughts and embrace the freedom that awaits on horseback.

Your eyes widen as his proposition sinks in, but you respond with a subtle nod, your silent agreement carrying the weight of anticipation.

As Holly gradually slows to a trot and then eases into a lazy walk, Yoongi reveals, “This is the final test for Holly.”

With a thoughtful expression, Yoongi shares his plan to test Holly’s adaptability in the wild. Intrigued, he proposes, “Why not venture out and seek the herd of wild horses again?” 

It might just be the escape you need from this ranch and its owner, who continues to stir uncomfortable feelings within your now delicate heart.

Jumping off the fence with a renewed sense of purpose, you stride towards the gate. As Yoongi gracefully maneuvers Holly out of the pen, you secure the gate behind you. Your journey continues with determined steps, leading you to where Marshmallow patiently awaits, reins neatly fastened to the fence.

You gently release the reins, your fingers caressing Marshmallow’s neck, eliciting a contented whinny. Placing your foot in the stirrup, you effortlessly swing your leg over his sturdy white frame. The moment you settle into the saddle, a profound sense of belonging washes over you, soothing your restless soul. The inexplicable bond between you and horses never fails to astound you, creating a sanctuary of comfort with every ride.

With a tender smile, your heart lightens, and you delicately urge Marshmallow into a trot by applying subtle pressure with your legs. As you follow Yoongi, the rhythmic beat of hooves creates a symphony that resonates with the newfound tranquility within you.

Embarking on a journey over the rolling hills, the grass beneath remains an enchanting green, bathed in the warmth of lingering summer. A gradual canter carries you through the landscape, your thoughts dissipating, leaving space for the soothing breeze to play with your hair, accompanied by the rhythmic pulse of hooves that mirrors the cadence of your own heart.

Lost in the passage of time, the duration of your ride eludes you, the profound silence between you and Yoongi accentuating the harmony of nature. The mountains, standing proud and towering in the distant horizon, seem to extend warm embraces, enveloping you in a sense of belonging to this picturesque landscape.

As you traverse the landscape, the familiarity of the woods, the serene lake where laughter once echoed with Jessi, and the expansive paddocks that seem to stretch endlessly into the horizon become a poignant backdrop to the rhythm of your horse’s hooves.

The wind tousles your hair, and there’s a fleeting sense that, perhaps, everything is gradually finding its way to being alright.

Lost in the vast expanse, you ride on, the anticipation building within you, wondering if today will be another day the wild horses grace you with their presence. The landscape sprawls before you, an unfamiliar tapestry of nature’s secrets waiting to be unveiled.

As you speak, a soft melancholy smile graces your lips, “I don’t think we’ll see them today, Yoongi.” Despite the disappointment, you hold onto the hope that eluded you, a silent acknowledgment that not everything unfolds as desired—recent events serving as a poignant reminder of life’s unpredictable nature.

“I don’t even know where we are,” you sigh, bringing the horses to a gentle trot. Your gaze sweeps across the expansive landscape, a moment of shared uncertainty between you and Yoongi. 

“I know where we are, don’t worry,” Yoongi assures you, confidence lacing his voice as you both come to a full stop before a vast and lush forest. 

You release the reins, allowing Marshmallow to lower his head and graze on the lush grass, while Holly follows suit. Holly’s remarkable behavior on this ride surprises you; her wild and untamed nature seamlessly hidden beneath a calm exterior. If it weren’t for her untamed origins, she could easily pass as a seasoned stock horse, blending effortlessly into the peaceful scenery.

While allowing Marshmallow and Holly to graze peacefully, their heads suddenly snap up, ears perked forward in unison, attuned to a sound that hasn’t yet reached your own ears. Then, like a wave crashing over you, the familiar rhythm of hooves pounding against the earth becomes clear – a wild and untamed symphony echoing through the air.

As the herd of wild horses materializes in the distance, a charismatic dark brown stallion commands the front, orchestrating the untamed ballet of freedom. They present a majestic spectacle, embodying the essence of the wild – eyes reflecting untold stories, a blend of soulful wisdom and mischievous spirit. With a profound exhale, you find yourself immersed in a deep appreciation for these creatures and the untamed nature that surrounds you.

Holly stands poised, her gaze locked onto the passing herd, perhaps recognizing the familiar faces of her once-wild family. Despite the untamed energy coursing through the herd, she remains steadfast, mirroring your own stance, both of you immersed in silent observation.

The sight of the wild horses in full gallop is nothing short of breathtaking, and as they surge across the landscape, a surge of emotion tightens your heart in your chest, leaving you captivated by the untamed beauty unfolding before your eyes.

In a hushed and reverent tone, you marvel, “They are so beautiful,” your words barely more than a breath, yet carrying the weight of admiration. A subtle nod from Yoongi acknowledges the shared appreciation of the magnificent spectacle before you.

As your heart swells with longing, a sense of crushing desire envelops you, wishing for the freedom these majestic horses possess—to express your truth and embrace the things you yearn for in life. The ache intensifies, a silent plea echoing in the vast expanse of the open landscape.

Your hands clutch the reins, and a damp sensation draws your attention. Glancing down, you discover small droplets of water clinging to your skin. A subtle sniffle escapes you, and it dawns on you—tears cascade down your cheeks, marking your hands with the tangible evidence of your silent emotional storm.

A constriction tightens your chest, and you draw in a deep breath, hoping to ease the pressure, only to release it in a slow exhale. The rhythm of your breath echoes the emotional turbulence within.

Yoongi’s gaze gently turns in your direction, his expression a silent symphony of understanding. No words escape his lips, yet the warmth of a caring smile lingers, offering a comforting embrace in the quietude between you.

You lift a trembling hand to your face, attempting to quell the rebellious tears that seem to have a life of their own. Your breath quickens, a desperate effort to steady your heart and rein in the tumultuous tide of emotions.

With a tear-streaked face, you turn to Yoongi, your eyes carrying the weight of a profound sadness. “Have you ever loved someone so much, it feels like you’re suffocating?”

Your heart carries the weight of your confession, a mix of both burden and liberation. The unspoken truth finally escapes your lips, echoing in the quiet spaces of your soul. Your feelings for Jimin, profound and unyielding, create a storm within, rendering you incapable of coherent thought, drowning in irrationality and a bitter sea of jealousy.

“Yeah,” he utters with a weighted exhale, the weight of that single syllable hangs thick in the air, a tangible presence in the shared space between you. Compassion wells up within you, not just for him, but for your own tender heart. Silent tears continue their descent, accompanied by a subdued sniffle that punctuates the shared vulnerability in the moment.

“I’m so sorry.”

Grumbling under your breath, you meticulously tend to the veggie garden, methodically extracting weeds and inspecting the plants for any sign of ripe fruit. Kneeling on a plush mat to provide respite for your beleaguered knees, your hands adorned with protective gloves, ensuring that both your hands and fingers remain shielded as you immerse yourself in the nurturing care of the flourishing garden.

Amidst the monotony of this laborious task, you find yourself immersed in the meticulous chore of weeding, the unfortunate bearer of the short straw today. Rows of carrots and potatoes bear witness to your diligent efforts as you navigate through the verdant expanse, determined to extract every intrusive weed that dares encroach upon the fertile soil.

Lost in contemplation, the rhythmic cadence of footsteps stealthily closes in on you, their approach unheard in the sanctuary of your introspective musings.

“Hi, I’m going into town,” your sister’s sudden announcement startles you from your gardening reverie. As you look up, her intent gaze meets yours, a tapestry of confusion woven into your expression.

“Why are you heading into town? Weren’t you supposed to tackle the tax today?” you inquire, your hands continuing their task of pulling stubborn weeds from the soil.

“I have that doctor’s appointment, remember?” Her raised eyebrow prompts a silent scold for forgetting such an important detail.

Panic flickers in your eyes as you abruptly halt your weeding, staring at your sister with genuine concern. “When did you mention the doctor’s appointment? Is everything okay?” Worry lines crease your forehead, a mix of surprise and anxiety clouding your expression.

With a light chuckle, she tries to alleviate your concerns, “Just a routine checkup, no big deal!” Her laughter carries a reassuring tone, and as she waves, the softness in her expression mirrors the warmth that envelops you.

You return her smile, your gaze lingering as she strolls away toward the yard, where the cars patiently wait.

“See you later,” she calls with a wave. From your perch in the veggie garden, you observe her unlocking the car, slipping into the driver’s seat of the pickup truck. The tail lights illuminate briefly, transitioning to brake lights before shifting to the soft glow of white. Jessi maneuvers in reverse, the wheels crunching on the dirt road as she disappears toward town.

As you return to the arduous task of pulling weeds, you find yourself grappling with the relentless tendrils of frustration, a silent curse escaping your lips like a rebellious whisper. Resigned to the fate of having drawn the shortest straw, you navigate through the sea of stubborn greenery, each tug of resistance echoing the monotony of your predicament.

Beneath the blazing midday sun, gratitude washes over you for the protective refuge of your hat, casting a welcomed shadow upon both your face and neck. Yet, despite this shield, beads of perspiration dance down your forehead, a testament to the unexpected physical rigor of the task at hand. The sheer demand of the job dawns upon you, surpassing your initial expectations. 

Anticipating the aftermath, you realize the likelihood of waking up tomorrow with sore arms, an inevitability intensified if you neglect the crucial post-labor ritual of stretching your fatigued muscles.

Emerging victorious from your laborious undertaking, you navigate your way into the kitchen, a sanctuary promising respite in the form of an icy glass of water. As the fridge door swings open, a cascade of cool air envelops your sweat-drenched face, offering a fleeting reprieve before you reluctantly seize the chilled jug. Your quest for relief continues as you reach for an overhead cabinet, extracting a glass that promises salvation. The sensation of the glass against your palms is a prelude to the ecstasy that follows as you pour the water, savoring its frosty embrace. With each indulgent gulp, the frigid liquid becomes a balm, soothing the searing heat that has claimed your body in this relentless weather.

Savoring the rejuvenating coolness, you lean leisurely against the countertop, the glass of water a welcome oasis in your hands. Just as the refreshing liquid begins to work its magic, Soo-ah strides into the kitchen, her expression twisted into a weird frown.

Your discerning gaze sweeps over Soo-ah’s form, a subtle intuition whispering that something is amiss, yet the unspoken question lingers on your lips. Before you can voice your inquiry, she breaks the pregnant silence, her words hanging in the air like a cryptic prelude. “Have you seen Jessi?”

A subtle tremor courses through your being as you dismissively shake your head, “She’s in town for a doctor’s appointment.” 

A shadow of concern paints Soo-ah’s features as she deftly retrieves her phone from the depths of her pocket, her eyes flicking to the screen with a mixture of urgency and unease. “How long has she been gone?”

A ripple of disquiet snakes its way through you, fueled by Soo-ah’s restive demeanor. Methodically, you rewind the clock in your mind, tallying the hours since Jessi’s presence graced your sight. “About five hours,” you declare, the admission carrying a weight that coils into an unsettling sense of foreboding.

Weariness etches itself deeper into Soo-ah’s countenance, her features now a canvas painted with both fatigue and concern. Your heartbeat quickens, a subtle but undeniable jolt, as the realization takes hold—this is not merely a cause for concern, but an ominous sign that tightens its grip around your heart, intensifying the ominous gravity of the moment.

A sudden, piercing ring shatters the stillness, and your gaze instinctively darts towards the source—a resonating chime from the landline. The air tightens around you, your heartbeat accelerating into a rapid cadence, each breath shallow and tense. A palpable wave of dread courses down your spine, a cold shiver that heralds an impending revelation. Locking eyes with Soo-ah, both of you stand frozen, caught in the ominous limbo between the echoing ring and the unknown that awaits on the other end of the line.

You should pick it up dammit! A stern scolding echoing in your mind, compelling your body into animated motion that seems detached from your own will. With a sense of urgency, you traverse the space to the countertop, your hand stretching out towards the ringing phone. As your fingertips make contact with the cream-colored plastic, a surge of anxiety courses through them, a prelude to the unknown that awaits on the other end. The plastic yields beneath the pressure of your grip, and in the hushed anticipation, you lift the receiver, your voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of tension. 

“Hello, Bora Ranch. How can I help you?”

The voice on the other end of the line weaves a narrative that acts like a chilling undertow, dragging your heart into an abyss of despair. Your hand involuntarily tightens around the phone, a desperate grip as if it were your sole connection to a vanishing lifeline.

The voice on the other end, that of the doctor’s receptionist, cuts through the air, delivering news that lands with a disconcerting weight. 

“We’re calling to let you know that Jessi missed her appointment today, and we wanted to know if she wants to reschedule another one?” 

You then realize that weird feeling you’ve been having— this isn’t good.

A furrow etches itself onto your brow, the cord winding around your other hand as if trying to anchor you in a moment slipping out of your control. “She hasn’t come home yet. Can I get back to you?” 

The words hang in the air, delivered with a voice that quivers with a blend of unease and uncertainty, as you begin to grasp what this means.

The receptionist’s agreement is a somber symphony in your ears before bidding goodbye. With a heart weighed down by the gravity of the call, you delicately place the receiver back in its cradle. As your eyes shift back to Soo-ah, her visage mirrors your own unsettled state, her features etched with a shared tension, a palpable reflection of the worry that swirls between you like an unspoken storm.

A thick silence hangs in the air, pregnant with unspoken fears. 

Soo-ah, unable to bear the weight any longer, shatters the tension like fragile glass. “Well, what is it?” Her words cut through the quiet, a desperate plea for answers.

You’re afraid.

Dread coils around your words, a vice grip on your throat as you grapple with the weight of unspoken fears. The hesitation lingers, but the urgency pushes you to break the silence. “Jessi never made it to her appointment…” 

You observe the subtle transformation in Soo-ah’s face, a haunting dance between anguish and concern. 

“Well, where is she then?” Soo-ah demands, her voice betraying an unsteady cadence that mirrors the delicate balance of the unspoken question hanging in the air, as if the answer hinges on your words. Your gaze reflects uncertainty, exhaling a breath heavy with the weight of the unknown.

“I think something bad has happened to her,” your voice wavers, the admission reluctant and laden with a vulnerability that you wish could be erased. The words, heavy with an unwelcome truth, carry the weight of a foreboding certainty that reverberates deep within your bones—an ominous resonance that refuses to be silenced.

Soo-ah, with her once sun-kissed complexion drains of its warmth, now veering into an eerie, almost gray pallor. A whisper of worry taints her words as she utters, “We should call Jungkook.” 

With a solemn nod, you reach for your phone, fingers betraying a subtle tremor as you punch in Jungkook’s number. As you raise the phone to your ear, the weight of the impending conversation echoes in the hollow space between each ring.

Holding your breath, time stretches into an agonizing eternity as you strain to listen to each ring, each heartbeat resonating in the charged stillness. The suspense tightens like a coil around your chest until, finally, a tremulous exhale escapes as Jungkook’s voice breaks the silence.

“This is Kook.”

An instant paralysis grips your vocal cords, a sudden constriction that renders your throat a silent battleground, incapable of surrendering even a solitary word. 

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook’s inquiry pierces the heavy silence, his voice carrying a note of concern that seems to reverberate through the unspoken void on the other end of the line.

A glacial stillness descends upon you, an icy grip that renders you immobile. 

Words, elusive and stubborn, refuse to surface. Soo-ah’s worried gaze lingers on you, but in a decisive sweep, she snatches the phone from your ear, her move cutting through the stasis like a sudden gust of wind disrupting a frozen landscape. 

“Hi, it’s Soo-ah. We need your help,” her voice, a steady prelude to the storm brewing beneath the surface, carries the weight of urgency as she unfolds the crucial details. “Jessi left for a doctor’s appointment, but she never made it, and it’s been five hours now. We’re afraid something has happened… Will you help us search for her?”

The murmur of Jungkook’s response on the other end remains elusive to your ears, but Soo-ah, in a breathy exhale that holds a universe of gratitude, utters a heartfelt, “Thank you.” She returns your lifeline– the phone, with a subtle yet meaningful gesture, restoring it to your hands as if passing the torch for the impending journey into the unknown. 

“He’ll be here in 10 minutes to pick you up,” she discloses, the gravity of her concern etching deeper creases onto her forehead. 

“What are you gonna do then?” The words burst from you, riding the crest of a wave formed by a potent mix of frustration and worry, their resonance echoing in the room. 

“I’m going to stay here… In case she comes home,” she reveals, her commitment to a vigil laden with unspoken hope. But then, almost as an afterthought, she adds, “or if the hospital calls.” 

The weight of her last admission sends a sinking feeling through your chest, an acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. Understanding settles in, and you offer a solemn nod, bracing yourself for Jungkook’s imminent arrival as the silent countdown to unravel the mystery begins.

Before the sleek silhouette of his black pickup truck materializes, the air is sliced by the cacophony of tires screeching—a desperate symphony of grip and resistance against the unforgiving dirt, an audible testament to the urgency that propels Jungkook towards the yard.

You dash outside, the urgent thud of your footsteps aligning with the accelerating heartbeat of the moment. Jungkook hurtles down the driveway, a kinetic force in his speeding vehicle that screeches to a dramatic halt before you. The window rolls down, revealing a face etched with determination, and he hollers, “Get in.” 

Obediently following his command, you seize the door handle, leaping into the truck with a hurried intensity. The door barely has time to shut before Jungkook slams his foot on the accelerator, leaving a swirling cloud of sand in the wake of the roaring vehicle. 

Worry etches deep lines into his face, transforming his normally composed features into a tapestry of concern. His lips press into a stern line, and his eyes, laser-sharp, pierce through the windshield, scanning the road ahead. The white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel betrays a tension that courses through him, turning his knuckles into pale anchors of anxiety. 

“What the hell happened?” The words slice through the air, dripping with a demanding tone that carries an undertone of a hiss, a viper’s sharpness in each syllable. 

Turning toward him, you admit with a meekness that hangs in the air, “I don’t know.” Your voice, a delicate whisper, contrasts with the clenching of your hands over your pants, while your bottom lip falls victim to the anxious bite of nerves. Fuck.

The weight of hope and fear interlaces in your thoughts—desperately wishing Jessi is safe, yet haunted by the gnawing question of why, if she is, hasn’t she reached out? 

Jungkook maneuvers the vehicle like a man possessed, hurtling down the lone road that unravels into town with a velocity that borders on recklessness. This is Jessi’s path, the very route she would undoubtedly have traversed. 

Your heart orchestrates a frenzied symphony of worry and fear, its rapid tempo matching the breakneck speed at which Jungkook propels the truck forward. 

The uneven terrain jolts beneath the truck’s tires, a relentless assault on the vehicle as it hurtles down these rugged, neglected roads. The coarse reality of the battered path becomes starkly apparent with every bone-rattling bump, each pothole a testament to the less-than-ideal conditions. 

“Slow down unless you want us to crash!” You warn him in a stern voice as desperation fuels your words and you clutch the handle at the top of the truck, your knuckles turning white as you seek stability amid the turbulent velocity. 

He merely huffs, an audible dismissal that betrays the resilience of his determination. It’s evident that your words struggle to penetrate the thick armor of his focus. However, your own concerns take precedence, and the prospect of a car accident looms like an ominous specter in the midst of your search for Jessi. 

“Fucking slow down or let me drive!” The urgency in your yell slices through the truck, a desperate ultimatum that demands immediate action. A tangible flinch from Jungkook, beside you, signals the impact of your words. With a reluctant release, he eases his right foot off the gas pedal, and the once-roaring speed of the vehicle unravels into a gradual deceleration. 

“Thank you,” you declare with a furious edge, your gratitude tinged with the lingering urgency of the search.

Jungkook skillfully guides the turn with a precise speed, threading the needle between velocity and caution. As the vehicle emerges from the curve, the truth unravels before your eyes. 

A sight that sends your heart plummeting, and an unspoken pact of dread settles between you and Jungkook, a bone-chilling silence that engulfs the interior of the truck. 

There it is, the all-too-familiar white pickup truck, an unexpected apparition right before you, nestled on the side of the road. It’s not parked; it’s crumbled against a tree. 

Jungkook wrenches his truck to a sudden halt, the engine silenced with a precision that echoes the urgency of the moment. In a flash, he bolts out of the car, a whirlwind of determination propelling him towards the scene. You trail closely in his wake, the echoes of your pounding heart reverberating alongside a disorienting ringing in your ears.

You sprint towards the crumpled wreckage, the front of the car wedged against the unforgiving tree. Panic fuels your frantic search for your sister amidst the twisted metal. Jungkook beats you to the driver’s side, and in a desperate attempt to catch a glimpse, you tiptoe over his shoulders. 

The chilling reality reveals itself—blood stains the window, and Jessi’s head, eyes closed, rests against it in an unsettling image. 

Fuck.

“Jessi!” The desperate cry erupts from deep within you, a primal howl behind Jungkook, and you resort to clawing at his back in a futile attempt to let you pass. However, he remains an immovable barrier, unyielding in his protective stance. 

His hand extends, a forceful gesture that wards you off, and his demanding tone slices through the charged air, declaring, “No, let me.”

You cease your futile attempt to scratch through the barrier of Jungkook’s back, relinquishing control to his judgment. Your gaze fixates on the unfolding scene as he seizes the door handle, pounding on the window while the fervent echo of your sister’s name reverberates through the stagnant air. 

A leaden weight settles upon your heart, dragging it down to depths unknown, and you slump to the unforgiving ground beside the truck. The haunting question hangs in the air, an unspoken fear clawing at your consciousness—could she be dead?

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, a poignant manifestation of your helplessness, as you watch the scene unfold. The overwhelming sense of uselessness engulfs you like a suffocating shroud because Jungkook, with his determined insistence, bars you from contributing to the unfolding crisis. 

Jungkook channels every ounce of his strength into wrenching the door handle, a Herculean effort that, to your dismay, yields no success. Undeterred, he pivots, striding purposefully around the car to attack the problem from the passenger’s side. The moment of truth arrives as the door finally acquiesces to his relentless determination, swinging open with a sudden release of pent-up tension. Jungkook, caught off guard by the door’s sudden compliance, is propelled backward, almost airborne, a visceral testament to the raw force he exerted in the pursuit of accessing the vehicle’s interior.

With a determined crawl into the cabin, Jungkook bridges the agonizing gap between hope and despair, finally reaching your sister. The urgency in his voice echoes through the air as he commands, “Call an ambulance!”

You rise from the unforgiving ground, a determined surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. With swift precision, you extract your phone, fingers dancing with urgency as you dial those three critical numbers. 

“Is she alive?” The question hangs in the air, a fragile whisper that dares not disturb the gravity of the moment. Holding your breath, you await his answer, the air thick with the weight of an impending revelation that could reshape the contours of your reality. 

“She’s breathing,” Jungkook exhales, his voice carrying the weight of relief, a momentary respite from the tension. You approach the driver’s window, eyes fixed on your sister’s form. The sight of her chest rising and falling in a slow, deliberate rhythm becomes a visual anchor, a palpable reassurance that she clings to life. 

Well, that’s good.

Cradling the phone to your ear, you navigate the urgent conversation, orchestrating a plea for the ambulance to converge on your dire location. The proximity of the ranch intensifies the raw reality—you aren’t that far away. A sinking feeling grips your heart as you grasp the cruel expanse of time she’s endured out here, alone and injured. 

Jungkook delicately prods Jessi’s arm, a gesture pregnant with hope, yet the anticipated response remains elusive—a disheartening void that echoes the uncertainty of the situation. 

“I know it looks bad, but we shouldn’t move her. It’s best to wait for the paramedics,” Jungkook utters reluctantly from the passenger’s seat.

You acknowledge the truth in his words, but your gaze lingers on Jessi, a silent witness to the vivid evidence of her injuries—blood seeping from her head. The unsettling unknown looms large, a haunting question mark etched across your thoughts—what other wounds might she be concealing beneath the shadows of her stillness? 

The wait for the ambulance unfolds like a nightmarish blur until the air is pierced by the sound of a low voice. Both you and Jungkook pivot, your gazes converging on your sister, a crescendo of fear and anticipation reaching its zenith. 

Jessi stirs, her murmurs threading through the air, but the coherence of her words eludes understanding. As her eyes tentatively flutter open, a feeble attempt to articulate follows, yet the utterances emerge as a nonsensical cascade, the syllables twisted into a form of gibberish. 

“It’s okay. You’ve been in a car accident, and the ambulance is on its way,” Jungkook reassures, his words a tender balm delivered with a gentle caress on your sister’s cheek. Tears shimmer in his eyes, a raw display of his emotional turmoil, as his calloused fingers delicately trace the curve of her cheekbone.

Her head pivots towards you, eyes finally unveiling an unspoken distance, their luster dimmed. A pang reverberates through your chest as you meet her gaze—her eyes, once vibrant, now bear the weight of an unspoken ordeal. The visceral urge to pull her from the confinements of the wreck claws at your heart. Oh, why can’t you just extract her from this damn car, ensuring her safety and whisking away the haunting uncertainty that clings to the moment? 

“It’s going to be okay,” Jungkook utters, his voice quivering with a blend of reassurance and uncertainty that reverberates through the air. His attempt at strength is palpable, yet the vulnerability seeps through the cracks as tears cascade down his face.

Yet amidst the chaos, a fervent hope takes root within you, a beacon amid the storm of uncertainty. A silent plea echoes in the depths of your being, transcending mere optimism, as you yearn—truly, desperately, for everything to unfold in a way that defies the ominous shadows cast by the present.

The wail of the ambulance siren pierces the air, heralding the arrival of salvation, and it swiftly aligns next to Jungkook’s car. A flurry of activity ensues as paramedics spill out, each armed with purposeful bags. Amidst the orchestrated urgency, some of them extract a stretcher from the belly of the ambulance.

Jungkook emerges from the car, gracefully ceding the realm to the paramedics, and approaches your side. His arm envelops your trembling frame, a silent reassurance amidst the tumult. No words pass between you as the paramedics meticulously cut the seatbelt, delicately affix a collar around Jessi’s neck, their movements choreographed in a synchronized ballet of urgency. 

Within the orchestrated chaos, a paramedic deploys a machine, its mechanical whir echoing through the night, to pry open the driver’s door. Simultaneously, another paramedic stands sentinel, ensuring Jessi remains securely in place, a guardian against the imminent void that will unfold once the door is relinquished.

The scene is gruesomely vivid, and an involuntary welling of tears clouds your vision as the brutal reality sets in. Leaning into Jungkook’s unwavering presence, you find solace in the haven of his steady frame, though your sniffling breaths betray the emotional maelstrom within. As your tears mingle with his on the fabric of your shirt, a silent communion of shared vulnerability takes root.

With meticulous care, the paramedics lift Jessi from the driver’s side, each movement deliberate and measured as they lay her down on the stretcher. The air hangs heavy with collective breath, your own held in a suspended moment of agonizing anticipation. The constriction in your chest intensifies, a sensation of breathlessness seizing you. Seeking an anchor in the chaos, you find Jungkook’s hand, fingers interlocking in a tight, desperate grip—a physical manifestation of the silent plea echoing within as you navigate the precipice of uncertainty.

“We’ll transport her to the hospital in town. You can follow us if you want,” one of the paramedics offers, their words a lifeline in the tumultuous sea of emotions. Gratitude courses through you, and you manage a nod of appreciation, though the knot in your throat constricts your ability to voice your thanks. 

Your gaze lingers on the departing ambulance, the doors sealing your sister’s fate within its sterile embrace. A quiet sniffle punctuates the lingering echoes of the departure. When you turn to Jungkook, his face bears the marks of tear-streaked sorrow, a testament to the profound love he harbors for your sister. The depth of his emotions mirrors the tumult within you, both bound by an unspoken yearning for everything to be right—for the fractures to heal and the shadows to dissipate in the face of an uncertain journey that now stretches before you.

The ambulance departs, leaving a gritty trail of dirt in its wake, a visual metaphor for the unsettling uncertainty now etched into your reality. Your gaze lingers on the vacated space it once occupied, a void that echoes the fear reverberating within. The future looms before you, an ominous terrain shrouded in ambiguity, and you grapple with the unrelenting questions that cast shadows on the path ahead.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | fifteen

🐴Chapter summary: A bushfire threatens to turn your home to ashes— will the fire consume everything in its wake? Can you manage to get out before it’s too late?

🐴Chapter title: Did I Tell You?

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: angst (is this really a surprise at this point?), fire, almost dying (but no one dies!), a secret that finally gets the light of day, revelations, smut in the form of unprotected semi public sex (indoors in a stable); neck biting and kissing, handjob, clit play, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, marking, hair pulling, pussy rubbing, praise kink, slight exhibitionism (Jimin just doesn’t care, lol).

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 13.7k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267, *tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Did I Tell You?” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: okay, I promise this is the last of the horrible angst— there’s still a tiny bit of drama left, but it’s not really angsty, just drama lol 😆

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜* *for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue💜

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

“You burn like fire Burn like ice Your heart tears, your heart tears You be strong and hold it in But your heart still cares” - ‘Never Enough’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Your eyes gradually flutter open, and a sense of unease settles over you, the heaviness of your head serving as a stark reminder that it’s the dead of night. Yet, something feels off—there’s an eerie whooshing sound permeating the air, accompanied by an unexplained warmth that seems to linger oppressively. Each breath you draw feels laborious, as if the atmosphere itself has thickened, suffocating and dense, leaving you struggling to fill your lungs with the heavy, stifling air.

As you groggily open your eyes, a sense of disorientation washes over you, prompting you to sit up on the bed and plant your feet firmly on the familiar, yet unexpectedly warm, wooden floor. Confusion gnaws at your mind—why is the floor emitting heat, a sensation so out of place in the chill of the night?

The eerie creaking noises echoing through the darkness send a shiver down your spine, an unsettling sensation creeping over you like a shadow in the night. With each step, the unexpected warmth of the wooden floor sears against the soles of your bare feet, intensifying the sense of unease that coils within you.

You approach the door, your hand instinctively reaches for the handle, only to recoil at the unexpected warmth that radiates from its surface. Ignoring the discomfort, you grip the handle once more, determined to open the door, but it stubbornly refuses to yield. Panic mounting, you hasten to the window, drawing back the curtains, and are met with a terrifying sight: flames, fierce and unrelenting, dancing in the distance beside the house. Your heart lurches into a frantic rhythm, adrenaline flooding your veins as you rush towards the wall shared with your sister, desperate to ensure her safety.

“Jess!” Your voice echoes with frantic urgency, reverberating through the walls as you pound on them with growing desperation. “There’s a fire!” Each word is punctuated by the thunderous pounding of your heart, the gravity of the situation propelling you into action.

Your heart sinks as the silence from the other side of the wall persists, your pounding growing more frantic with each passing second. With a growing sense of dread, you turn back to the door, only to find the handle searing to the touch, its heat now unbearable. It’s in that moment of realization, as the reality of the situation sets in, that the horrifying truth dawns upon you— the fire is inside the house. 

As panic grips you tightly, you frantically scan the room, your senses heightened by the thickening, suffocating air. Each breath feels like a struggle, the oppressive weight of the atmosphere pressing down on your chest.

Amidst the chaos, a melody of distant voices pierces through the haze of panic, drawing your attention to the window. With trembling hands, you fling it open, revealing the familiar faces of Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin standing outside below. Tears blur your vision as relief floods your senses, grateful beyond measure to see them safe and unharmed amidst the chaos that surrounds you.

“Guys!” Your voice echoes with desperation as you lean out the window, your heart pounding in your chest. “There’s a fire and Jessi isn't responding. I’m scared,” you cry out to them, tears streaming down your cheeks in a torrent of fear and helplessness. The urge to escape and just crawls out the window grips you fiercely, but the height of your window serves as a cruel reminder of the perilous predicament you find yourself in.

“Yeah, we can’t get into the house, the fire’s too intense,” Soo-ah’s voice quivers with despair, her anguished expression striking you to the core. A chill runs down your spine as the weight of her words sinks in, dashing any hopes you had of imminent rescue.

“We’ve already called the fire station, they’re on their way!” Ha-rin’s voice cuts through the chaos with palpable frustration, her words offering a glimmer of hope amidst the despair.

“You need to find something to cover your mouth with and close the window tight. We’ll figure out a way to reach you and Jess,” Ara’s voice quivers with urgency, tears streaking down her cheeks as she pleads with you, her desperation mirroring your own.

“Why should I close the window? I can barely breathe in here,” you gasp, your words punctuated by labored breaths as you cling to the fleeting sensation of fresh air flooding in.

“I know it seems counterintuitive, but keeping the window open will only feed the fire more oxygen, making it worse. You have to close it and find a way out, and we’ll do everything we can to reach you,” Ara insists, her brow furrowed with worry as she implores you to heed her advice.

You gulp down your rising panic and shut the window, the gravity of the situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. Rummaging through your dresser, you snatch up a scarf to cover your mouth, desperate for even a shred of relief from the stifling air. Returning to the door, you try everything—pushing, kicking, pleading—but it remains stubbornly sealed shut, mocking your futile efforts. Exhaustion creeps in like a heavy fog, clouding your thoughts as the acrid stench of smoke fills your lungs, each breath a struggle against the oppressive atmosphere. The distant roar of flames outside serves as a grim reminder of the encroaching danger, fueling your mounting dread. Has the fire reached your floor? Is that why the air feels so unbearably hot and thick? Panic grips you tighter, uncertainty gnawing at your resolve as you brace yourself for the worst.

Desperation claws at your insides, urging you to reach your sister’s side, yet with each passing moment, your body feels as if it’s succumbing to an invisible weight, dragging you down with relentless force. Defeated, you shuffle back to your bed, the searing heat of the floorboards scorching your bare feet with every agonizing step.

The weight of exhaustion presses down on you like a leaden blanket, dragging you tiredly towards the comforting embrace of your bed. As you sink into its welcoming embrace, your gaze drifts upwards, the once-clear ceiling now obscured by billowing clouds of smoke, a grim testament to the encroaching danger. Frustration and helplessness surge within you, a primal scream of defiance rising in your throat at the merciless grip of the bushfire wreaking havoc on your home.

Tears cascade down your cheeks, mingling with the sweat and soot that stains your skin, as you feel the tendrils of consciousness slipping away, consumed by the suffocating grip of smoke and heat. Gasping for air, each breath a desperate struggle, you’re overcome by a sense of utter helplessness. In the suffocating darkness, a chilling realization dawns upon you—this may be the end, this is how you die.

As darkness encroaches upon your consciousness, a kaleidoscope of memories floods your mind like a relentless tide. Childhood days spent playing with your sister, laughter echoing through the air; stolen moments with Jimin, each glance a silent confession of your affection. Regrets and what-ifs swirl together in a maelstrom of emotion, a poignant reminder of the preciousness of time. Thoughts of Jimin linger like a lifeline, a beacon of hope in the encroaching abyss. Despite your reluctance to surrender to the void, exhaustion weighs heavy upon your weary soul, leaving you with little strength to fight.

The air grows thick with suffocating heat, enveloping you in an oppressive embrace as darkness threatens to consume you whole. Despite the sweltering temperature, shivers wrack your trembling frame, tears mingling with sweat upon your cheeks in a testament to your despair. A profound sense of isolation descends upon you, a heavy cloak of loneliness in the face of impending doom. Panic claws at your chest, a desperate plea echoing in the recesses of your mind—no, you’re not ready for this, not yet. 

But in the blink of an eye, the world fades into an abyss of darkness, swallowing you whole.

Without warning, Jimin awakens in the dead of night, a strange sensation coursing through his body, disrupting the peaceful slumber he usually enjoys. His eyes flutter open, his mind unexpectedly alert, an oddity at this late hour. Running a hand through his tousled blonde locks, he senses the futility of attempting to return to sleep. With a resigned sigh, he resolves to quench his newfound thirst, navigating his way down to the kitchen in the darkness, the silence of the night shrouding his solitary journey.

Descending the stairs with deliberate steps, Jimin navigates his way through the dimly lit house and into the kitchen, where he fills a glass with water. As he takes a sip, his gaze absentmindedly drifts towards the window, only to be arrested by a peculiar sight outside. With a furrowed brow, he pulls back the curtain, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of flames licking the night sky, casting an ominous glow over your residence.

A surge of dread washes over him, gripping his heart with icy fingers as he beholds the inferno raging outside your home. His breath hitches in his throat, a strangled gasp escaping his lips, as the glass slips from his trembling fingers, shattering upon impact with the unforgiving floor. Water spills like tears, mingling with the shards of glass.

Heart pounding with urgency, he races up the stairs, his feet pounding against the floor with frantic intensity. Bursting into his brother’s room, he flings the door open with a resounding crash. 

“Jungkook! Wake up!” he cries out, his voice laced with urgency and fear. “There’s a fire at Bora ranch!”

Startled from slumber, Jungkook bolts upright, his eyes wide with confusion and sleep-induced disorientation. “What’s going on?” he demands, his voice tinged with a mix of alarm and bewilderment.

“Get the fuck up! We need to make sure they’re okay!” Jimin’s voice cracks with urgency, his words laced with a potent blend of fear and determination. With a swift tug, he yanks the duvet off Jungkook’s body, his movements urgent and decisive. Jungkook springs into action, propelled by his brother’s urgency, scrambling to grab some clothes as adrenaline courses through his veins.

In a sudden rush of realization, Jimin’s eyes widen as he registers his scant attire, clad only in his boxers. With a sense of urgency coursing through his veins, he dashes back into his bedroom, his movements swift and purposeful as he hastily throws on some clothes, his mind racing with the need to act swiftly in the face of impending danger.

“Should we get Yoongi and Hoseok?” Jungkook’s voice rings out amidst the chaos, his words punctuated by the thunderous rhythm of their footsteps as they hurtle down the stairs, snatching up their boots in a frenzied haste.

“Yeah, we need all the help we can get!” Jimin’s agreement echoes through the tumult, his heart hammering against his ribs with a frantic urgency— you have to be okay. With determination driving him forward, he sprints towards the cottages where Yoongi and Hoseok are sleeping. Bursting into Yoongi’s room without a preamble, he finds the poor man groggy and disoriented, his yells initially falling on deaf ears amidst the haze of sleep.

Suddenly, Hoseok materializes in Yoongi’s doorway, his voice tinged with disbelief and concern. “A fire?” His words hang heavy in the air, cutting through the haze of confusion and sleep like a beacon of clarity amidst the chaos.

Jimin simply nods, a whirlwind of panic swirling in his eyes, each frantic heartbeat urging them to hasten their efforts. With a bush fire, time is a merciless adversary, and he knows they must act swiftly to ensure your safety.

With urgency coursing through his veins, Hoseok rushes to Yoongi’s side, his hands grabbing hold of his weary form and shaking him awake. “Wake up, babe!” He exclaims, his voice trembling with urgency and fear. “There’s a fire!”

Yoongi jolts upright, his eyes scanning the room in a frantic search for signs of fire, only to find none. A wave of relief washes over him, his tense muscles gradually easing. Yet, as he catches sight of Jimin’s startled expression, a sense of unease creeps back into his veins, dispelling the fleeting comfort.

“The fire’s raging at Bora ranch,” Jimin urges, his voice urgent as they hastily don their clothes. “We need to move—now,” he insists, his words a fervent plea propelled by the gravity of the situation.

With synchronized determination, they burst outside, their feet pounding against the ground as they rush towards their vehicles. Jungkook’s truck roars to life, its engine already purring with readiness as they pile in, their hearts racing in tandem with the accelerating beat of the engine. Tires screech against the dirt, leaving behind a trail of urgency as Jungkook accelerates out of the yard, the weight of their concern propelling them forward towards your home.

The atmosphere inside the truck is suffocating, weighed down by an oppressive silence that hangs thick in the air. Jimin can hardly take it, the tension gnawing at his nerves like a relentless predator. But as they approach your house, its silhouette shrouded in towering flames, a surge of dread courses through him. Outside, chaos reigns as stable hands dart about in a frenzy of panic, their frantic movements a stark contrast to the engulfing inferno.

Jimin leaps out of the truck, his heart pounding with a desperate urgency as he makes a beeline for Soo-ah amidst the chaos. “Where is she?” He demands, his voice a raw mix of fear and determination, his eyes searching hers for any sign of reassurance.

Soo-ah’s sorrowful expression sends a shiver down Jimin’s spine, a cold knot of dread forming in the pit of his stomach. He glances over at his brother, Jungkook, who stands beside him, his chest heaving with adrenaline-fueled urgency. Together, they share a silent understanding—a silent vow to do whatever it takes to ensure your safety amidst the engulfing inferno.

“They are both stuck inside, they can’t get out and we can’t get in,” Ara’s voice trembles with tears, her words cutting through the chaos like a knife. Hoseok rushes to her side, a pillar of strength amidst the turmoil, his arms encircling her trembling form in a comforting embrace, as they both grapple with the overwhelming fear and helplessness of the situation.

“Have you called the firemen?” Yoongi’s calm demeanor belies the urgency of the situation, his voice steady as he takes charge amidst the chaos. Jimin struggles to comprehend Yoongi’s composure, his own heart threatening to burst from his chest with worry for you. Each passing second outside feels like an eternity wasted, a precious moment lost in indecision—Jimin knows they can’t afford to delay any longer, action must be taken, and fast.

He has to do something!

Restlessness consumes him, an urgent energy coursing through his veins as he clenches his fists at his sides. The weight of inaction pulls down on him like a heavy burden—he can’t simply stand idly by while you’re in danger. Every fiber of his being screams for action, for a chance to reach you, to pull you from the engulfing flames. The thought of you trapped inside ignites a fiery determination within him—he refuses to entertain the notion that you might be suffocating in there, not while there's still a chance to save you.

His body moves with an instinctual force, propelling him towards the main door in a surge of determination. The cacophony of voices around him fades into insignificance—he hears their warnings, their pleas for caution, but he cannot heed them. Time is slipping away, and he refuses to stand idle while you remain in peril. The urgency to ensure your safety eclipses all other considerations. He must find you, reassure himself of your well-being, and bring you to safety, no matter the risk.

The oppressive heat of the engulfing flames envelops him as he stands in the doorway, a stark reminder of the danger that looms within. Despite the overwhelming odds stacked against him, he knows he must make the attempt, no matter how reckless it may seem. Desperation fuels his actions as he improvises a makeshift barrier for his mouth with the edges of his shirt, a feeble attempt to shield himself from the searing heat and choking smoke. Surveying the inferno that surrounds him, he struggles to push aside the paralyzing fear gnawing at his core. Thoughts of your potential whereabouts flash through his mind—maybe you’re still asleep in your room, blissfully unaware of the imminent danger, or worse, trapped and helpless amidst the relentless blaze. Yet, he refuses to entertain the latter possibility, not yet—not until he’s exhausted every ounce of effort to find you and bring you to safety.

As he stands amidst the flames, grappling with the enormity of the task before him, a familiar presence materializes at his side. 

With a swift turn of his head, he locks eyes with his brother, a silent exchange of determination passing between them. Without a word spoken, they share a nod—a silent agreement to face the inferno together. 

In perfect synchrony, they steel themselves against the searing heat and billowing smoke, and with unwavering resolve, they plunge into the heart of the raging blaze, their footsteps echoing amidst the crackling of flames.

Amidst the oppressive heat and acrid stench of burning wood, the air thick with the suffocating smoke of a fire run rampant, Jimin’s senses reel with the intensity of the fire. The stairs before them lie engulfed in a writhing sea of flames, a daunting obstacle that threatens to thwart their desperate bid for rescue. 

Yet, driven by a fierce determination, Jimin and his brother press onward, their footsteps echoing against the backdrop of crackling fire. With adrenaline coursing through their veins, they ascend the staircase with swift determination, their breaths ragged and labored as they navigate the treacherous terrain. As they reach the top, their chests heave with exertion, the searing heat seeping through their clothes and scorching their skin. His heart pounds in his chest as they exchange a wordless glance, a silent reassurance passing between them in the face of unimaginable peril.

With purposeful strides, Jungkook moves towards Jessi’s door, his hand poised to turn the warm handle, but it refuses to yield. Jimin follows suit, his trembling fingers grappling with the warm doorknob of your room, yet despite his efforts, it remains steadfastly locked. 

Panic threatens to consume him as he grapples with the realization that their path to safety has been obstructed, the flames of despair licking at the edges of his consciousness.

Locked in a desperate race against time, their shared determination ignites a surge of adrenaline as they exchange a resolute glance. Without hesitation, they channel their combined strength into a synchronized assault on the stubborn barrier before them. With a primal roar of exertion, they unleash a barrage of powerful kicks, the thunderous impact reverberating through the air as their boots collide with the sturdy wooden door.

Driven by an unwavering resolve to reach you, to ensure your safety at any cost, they pour every ounce of their being into the relentless assault. And then, in a moment of sheer defiance against the encroaching flames, the door yields to their collective might, splintering open with a deafening crack as the barrier between them and their objective shatters into a shower of wooden fragments.

As he storms into your room, a tempest of urgency swirling around him, his heart skips a beat at the sight of you, cocooned in the midst of chaos. With gentle yet determined hands, he reaches out, his fingers threading through your hair in a tender caress, seeking to anchor you in the tumultuous reality. 

“Love?” His voice, a lifeline amidst the turmoil, carries a blend of concern and relief, each syllable imbued with an unspoken plea for your response, a desperate hope that you’ll awaken from the grasp of slumber and reassure him that you’re safe.

An eerie silence blankets the room as his call goes unanswered, a chilling reminder of the precariousness of the moment. His heart lurches with a primal fear, the stillness of your form casting shadows of doubt in his mind. Uncertainty claws at his senses, a relentless adversary threatening to overwhelm him in the face of the unknown.

Reluctantly, he inches closer, his trembling hand hovering over your chest, a hesitant gesture born of equal parts dread and determination. With bated breath, he seeks solace in the rhythmic cadence of your heartbeat, a fragile melody that whispers tales of life amidst the chaos. As the reassuring thud beneath his palm registers, a flood of relief washes over him, a torrent of gratitude cascading through his veins. In that fleeting moment of reassurance, he offers a silent prayer to the heavens, a fervent plea for your continued safety.

Yet, the sight of your motionless form sends a shiver down his spine, a sobering reminder of the perilous precipice upon which you both stand. Though your breaths may still dance in the realm of the living, you seem to be unconscious, which isn’t good either, but he reckons it’s better than being dead.

Gently, he gathers your weight into his arms, cradling you against his chest with a tenderness that belies the urgency of the situation. As he lifts you, he can’t help but notice the telltale traces of dried tears etched upon your cheeks, each mark a silent testament to the fear and despair that had gripped you in his absence. His heart twists with a fierce pang of guilt, knowing that you had endured this terrifying ordeal alone, trapped within the suffocating embrace of the inferno. The realization tightens his throat with a knot of anguish, exacerbated by the acrid tendrils of smoke that coil around him, assaulting his senses with their noxious grip.

With each step towards safety, his arms cradle you protectively, a shield against the relentless onslaught of danger. Despite the weight of your unconscious form pressing against him, he carries you with unwavering determination, his every movement fueled by a desperate need to ensure your survival. With each step, he navigates through the swirling chaos of flames, his senses heightened to the crackling roar of the inferno that threatens to consume everything in its path. It’s a testament to his quick thinking and reflexes that he’s managed to evade the licking tongues of fire thus far, emerging unscathed from the fiery labyrinth that surrounds him.

As he emerges from your room, a flicker of relief washes over him at the sight of his brother, bearing your sister in a similar protective embrace. Their eyes meet in silent acknowledgment, a shared understanding passing between them that you both are now out of immediate danger. It’s a fleeting moment of reassurance amidst the chaos, when he realizes they have the task of maneuvering back to the safety of the outdoors.

As they descend the stairs, the cacophony of splintering wood and the ominous crackle of flames grow louder, echoing through the crumbling structure like a sinister symphony of destruction. Jimin’s eyes dart frantically around the deteriorating surroundings, a surge of urgency coursing through him as he watches sections of the building succumb to the merciless fire. His heart pounds in his chest as he realizes the gravity of their situation. Each passing second brings them closer to the brink of catastrophe, the looming threat of imminent collapse hanging heavy in the air like a palpable menace. With a gut-wrenching sense of dread gnawing at his insides, Jimin knows that they can’t afford to linger a moment longer.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible above the tumultuous roar of the blaze. 

Every fiber of his being screams at him to flee, to escape the clutches of the encroaching flames before it’s too late. They have to get out now, he realizes with chilling clarity, their very lives hanging in the balance as the once-familiar surroundings crumble into ash and dust around them.

As Jimin descends the stairs, his senses heightened by the chaos engulfing the building, a faint sound cuts through the roaring inferno—a whisper, barely audible amidst the crackling flames. His gaze flickers downward, drawn to your motionless form cradled in his arms.

Despite the pallor of your skin and the stillness of your body, your lips tremble with a silent plea, forming words that dance on the edge of his consciousness. With bated breath, he strains to decipher the murmured syllables, his heart hammering in his chest as he strains to catch every fleeting whisper amidst the cacophony of destruction.

As Jimin descends the stairs, your faint voice reaches him through the thick veil of smoke, each syllable a fragile thread binding his heart to yours. “Jimin, I…” you whisper, your words a haunting melody amidst the chaos of the raging fire. His name on your lips is both a plea and a promise, a reminder of the unbreakable bond that binds you together.

His chest constricts with emotion as he hears the tremor in your voice, your body frail and vulnerable in his arms. Every fiber of his being yearns to shield you from harm, to banish the fear and uncertainty etched upon your face. In that fleeting moment, amid the swirling inferno, he vows to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

Jimin and Jungkook descend the stairs, navigating through the billowing smoke and collapsing debris with a sense of urgency. As they reach the bottom, the sight of the main entrance consumed by a wall of flames sends a surge of panic through their veins. With no way out in sight, they exchange a silent glance, their determination unyielding in the face of adversity.

Turning away from the inferno blocking their path, they set their sights on the back entrance, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. Their boots pound against the scorched floorboards as they dash toward the exit, each step fueled by the instinct to survive. Amidst the crackling of flames and the roar of destruction, they press forward, driven by a singular purpose: to escape the clutches of the fire and emerge unscathed into the cool embrace of safety.

Gasping for breath, their lungs craving the cool kiss of fresh air, Jimin and Jungkook burst through the back entrance, their bodies trembling with exertion and relief. Collapsing onto the ground, their chests heave with the weight of their harrowing escape, sweat mingling with soot on their skin as they bask in the newfound freedom from the raging inferno behind them.

Coughing violently, Jimin gently lowers you to the ground, your figure appearing eerily motionless against the backdrop of chaos. Yet amidst the turmoil, the subtle rise and fall of your chest offer a glimmer of hope, a fragile reassurance that despite the devastation surrounding you, life still stubbornly persists within your fragile frame.

As he cradles you close, he feels the rhythmic thud of your heartbeat beneath his trembling palms, a fragile reassurance amidst the devastation. His yearning intensifies, desperate for the solace of your gaze to pierce through the suffocating haze. A solitary tear breaks free, tracing a path down his soot-stained cheek, as he leans over you, his silent sobs mingling with the crackle of the flames.

He surveys your form, clad in nothing but your short pajamas, and his heart aches at the sight of ashes smudging your delicate features and clinging to your body, while your bare feet carry the painful marks of the searing heat. Unable to stem the tide of tears cascading down his cheeks, he's overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions, his anguish mirrored in the devastation that surrounds you. Fuck, now he can’t stop crying.

“What happened?” As he lifts his gaze, his eyes meet those of your sister, cradled in his brother’s arms, her coughs echoing the struggle for breath that they all share. Amidst the billowing smoke and crackling flames, her bewildered expression speaks volumes, silently questioning the chaos that has thrust them into the cold night air.

Jungkook gestures toward your engulfed home, and a wave of sorrow washes over her features, etching lines of despair onto her once hopeful face. But then, her gaze flits between Jungkook, you, and Jimin, her eyes widening with realization like a sudden crack of lightning in the darkness. With a desperate urgency, she squirms in Jungkook’s arms, a silent plea echoing in her frantic movements to reach you both.

“She’s not waking up. But she’s breathing,” Jimin murmurs, his voice tinged with a mixture of concern and frustration as he seeks to comfort your sister. Yet, deep down, he knows his words offer little solace, for the absence of your consciousness weighs heavily on them all.

Tears cascade down Jessi’s cheeks as she seeks solace in Jungkook’s comforting embrace, her sobs muffled against his chest, her entire frame trembling with fear and anguish.

The urgent rhythm of footsteps echoes across the scorched ground as Yoongi, Hoseok, Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin converge on the terrace where Jimin and the others are gathered, their faces etched with concern and their eyes wide with fear, their collective breaths held in anticipation of the unfolding tragedy.

Relief washes over Soo-ah’s face as she collapses beside you, her eyes darting between your still form and Jimin’s tear-streaked face, her heart pounding with a mix of fear and gratitude, thankful for the sight of you both amidst the chaos and devastation of the fire.

“What happened?” Yoongi’s voice breaks through the tension, his concern palpable as he approaches, seeking answers amidst the swirling emotions and charred remnants of the night's events.

“Come on, wake up love,” Jimin’s voice quivers with desperation as he tenderly strokes your hair, his silent plea echoing in the night air. The weight of everything you’ve endured hangs heavy in the atmosphere, urging him to pray with all his might for your return to consciousness.

“I think she’s unconscious,” Jimin’s voice trembles with emotion, tears streaming down his cheeks as he struggles to maintain composure. The touch of Yoongi’s hand on his back offers a brief moment of solace amidst the chaos, a silent reassurance that they’re all in this together.

“Maybe she inhaled too much smoke,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the tension, laden with concern as he offers a possible explanation for your unconscious state. With the others drawing nearer, their collective worry hangs heavy in the air.

“I just want her to be okay,” Jimin’s voice breaks with emotion, each word heavy with the weight of his fear and love. His hiccups betray his struggle to contain his anguish, tears streaming down his cheeks to cascade onto your face, a silent plea for your recovery.

“She’ll be okay,” Yoongi’s voice is a soothing whisper against the backdrop of chaos, his hand a gentle anchor on Jimin’s trembling back. Yet, despite his attempt to reassure, the pain in Jimin’s chest refuses to subside, a relentless ache echoing the uncertainty of the moment.

As the piercing wail of sirens fills the air, Jimin’s tense muscles finally relax with a sense of relief—help has arrived. The firemen swiftly leap into action, their trained movements a dance of efficiency as they unleash torrents of water and foam, battling the voracious flames that threaten to devour everything in their path. Amidst the chaos, Jimin’s eyes catch sight of another vehicle approaching, its flashing lights casting an eerie glow over the scene. Recognizing it as an ambulance, his heart leaps with a mix of hope and apprehension. Two paramedics rush to his side, their urgent footsteps echoing his own racing pulse as they settle beside him.

A burly fireman strides over, his expression etched with urgency as he scans the group for any sign of distress. With a grave nod, he inquires if anyone else remains trapped inside the fire. Heads shake in unison, a collective silent plea for everyone’s safety. Satisfied with their response, the fireman retreats to join his comrades, a determined glint in his eye as they continue their battle against the encroaching blaze.

Their gaze shifts from the firefighter to you and your sister, where the paramedics are now attending to your needs. With a practiced eye, one paramedic assesses your condition, expressing confusion at your unconscious state despite outward signs of normalcy. Assuring you’ll be taken to the hospital for further evaluation, he seems baffled by the inexplicable situation. Meanwhile, Jessi vehemently refuses assistance, insisting on remaining at the scene rather than being whisked away to the hospital.

The paramedics emphasize the standard protocol following exposure to a fire, urging Jimin and his brother to accompany them. “It’s crucial we assess you for any potential smoke inhalation effects,” they explain, gesturing towards both of them.

As Jimin and Jungkook nod, relinquishing control to the paramedics, they witness the swift actions unfold. You’re carefully placed on a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance. Meanwhile, another ambulance arrives, from which a fresh team of paramedics rushes to attend to Jessi. Jimin observes Jungkook’s steadfast support, walking alongside her, holding her hand tightly. Despite her protests about the ordeal’s necessity, she's more concerned about your well-being, and Jimin's heart swells with gratitude for your unwavering bond.

You’re gently loaded into the ambulance, and Jimin’s heart weighs heavily with worry. The paramedic gestures for him to join you, and he settles beside you in the cramped space, sandwiched between the paramedic and you. Oxygen masks are swiftly placed over both of your faces, and Jimin’s gaze remains fixated on you as the paramedic meticulously examines you for any signs of damage from the fire—cuts, burns, anything that might indicate the extent of the ordeal you’ve endured. Jimin's breath catches in his throat, his fingers trembling with anxiety as he waits for reassurance that you’ll be okay.

The ambulance lurches into motion, and Jimin feels every jolt and bump along the road, a stark contrast to the stillness within the vehicle. Through the small windows, he glimpses your home, a haunting silhouette against the backdrop of flames and the cascading spray of water and foam. A queasy sensation churns in his stomach, and he coughs softly, his eyes fixed on your serene but fragile form as the paramedic diligently tends to you. In the midst of chaos, his focus remains solely on ensuring your safety, his heart aching with the weight of uncertainty.

Fuck, he hopes with every fiber of his being that you’ll be okay.

You feel a comforting warmth against your hand, a reassuring presence that eases the ache in your body. Slowly, you register the weight of a head resting gently on your shoulder. With a soft groan escaping your lips, the pressure shifts, a gentle response to your discomfort.

Your eyes flutter open, and a dry, scratchy sensation grips your throat. You cough softly, squinting against the assault of the room’s yellow fluorescent light. Where in the world are you?

As you turn your head, your eyes adjusting to the harsh light, they land on something beautiful: Jimin. Your heart quickens its pace, and a smile blooms on your lips as you take in his presence, though his expression carries the weight of worry.

“Hi, my love,” he whispers, his voice dripping with love and longing, yet tinged with a hint of sorrow. The sound of his voice washes over you like a comforting wave, and you eagerly intertwine your fingers with his, seeking solace in his touch.

“How are you feeling?” His gaze, filled with an ocean of love, meets yours, yet there’s a subtle furrow in his brow that unsettles you. Despite the warmth in his eyes, that furrow hints at a worry you wish you could erase.

You cough again, the rasp in your throat a reminder of the ordeal you’ve been through. “Okay, I think,” you manage, your voice a whisper against the backdrop of beeping machines and sterile hospital air.

He strokes your hair again with a tenderness that soothes your frazzled nerves, his touch tracing a path of reassurance down to your cheek. As you lean into his caress, a sigh escapes your lips, enveloped in the warmth and comfort he offers.

With Jimin’s hand firmly clasped in yours, determination fuels your efforts as you struggle to sit up. Against the backdrop of beeping machines and the sterile surroundings of the hospital room, you finally manage to rise, albeit slowly. Your gaze sweeps over the array of medical equipment surrounding you, noting the IV drip connected to a port in your hand, a tangible reminder of the ordeal you've endured.

As the door creaks open, a figure clad in a white coat strides in, their demeanor exuding both professionalism and concern. The doctor’s presence commands attention as they approach your bedside, their eyes scanning you with a practiced scrutiny. With a gentle yet probing inquiry, they delve into your well-being, seeking reassurance amidst the lingering aftermath of the fire. Despite your efforts to convey resilience, your voice betrays the strain.

“That’s to be expected with all the smoke you inhaled. And you’ve been unconscious for a few days, so that might not help the itchy feeling you have in your throat,” The doctor’s words hang in the air, punctuated by the gravity of your realization. Unconscious? For days?

The revelation hits you like a wave, washing over you with disbelief and a sense of disorientation. You exchange a bewildered glance with Jimin, your mind struggling to reconcile the lost time with the present moment. The doctor’s explanation offers a semblance of understanding, attributing your hoarse throat to the lingering effects of smoke inhalation and the prolonged unconsciousness. 

As you meet Jimin’s reassuring gaze, a silent understanding passes between you both, anchoring you in the present moment despite the disorienting haze of recent events. His nod offers a steadying presence, a silent promise that you’re not navigating this uncertainty alone. Returning your attention to the doctor, her words linger in your mind like an echo, a gentle reminder of the fragility of your body and the importance of self-care in the aftermath of such trauma.

“Rest,” she advises, her tone a blend of professionalism and empathy, “and we'll monitor your progress closely.” With a final sweep of her gaze, she withdraws from the room, leaving you and Jimin enveloped in a cocoon of quietude.

Turning towards Jimin, you feel the weight of the recent ordeal pressing down on your shoulders like a heavy burden. “There was a fire... in my house,” you utter, each word a struggle against the vivid memories clawing at the edges of your consciousness. As the recollection floods your mind, your voice wavers, threatened by the surge of emotions threatening to engulf you. Yet, despite the turmoil within, Jimin remains a steadfast presence by your side, his silent solidarity a lifeline in the midst of chaos. Feeling his gentle touch, a comforting reassurance amidst the turmoil, you find solace in the warmth of his fingers rubbing soothing circles on your hand.

“I thought I was gonna die,” you confess, the words tumbling from your lips laden with raw emotion, each syllable a testament to the terror that gripped your heart during those harrowing moments. As you speak, you feel the jagged edges of fear still lingering in the corners of your mind, a sharp reminder of the perilous brush with mortality you’ve just narrowly escaped. “But then you came and saved me, didn’t you?” You continue, your voice trembling with gratitude and vulnerability. Turning your gaze towards Jimin, you meet his eyes, the intensity of your unspoken emotions reflected in the shimmering pools of unshed tears that threaten to spill over. In that moment, a surge of longing washes over you, an overwhelming desire to envelop him in a tight embrace, to seek solace in the shelter of his comforting presence.

He nods solemnly, his gaze mirroring the tumultuous whirlpool of emotions churning within you. With a gentle yet unwavering grip, his hand remains intertwined with yours, serving as an anchor amidst the tempest of emotions threatening to engulf you. In his touch, you find solace and strength, a silent promise of unwavering support and companionship through the darkest of storms.

You vividly recall the sensation of sturdy, familiar hands enveloping your body, anchoring you amidst the chaos. Amidst the acrid stench of burning wood that filled the air, his scent, musky and robust, wafted around you like a reassuring embrace, calming your frayed nerves even in your unconscious state. In the firm grip of his hand, you found sanctuary, a refuge from the turmoil, a silent assurance that in his presence, everything would ultimately be alright.

As memories of that harrowing night flood your mind, tears cascade down your cheeks, each droplet a testament to the fear and relief etched in your heart. Drawing solace from his presence, you instinctively pull yourself closer to him, yearning for the warmth of his embrace. With a gentle gesture, you pat the space beside you on the bed, silently beckoning him to share in the solace of your sanctuary. Obliging your unspoken invitation, he rises from the chair with utmost care, mindful of the tangle of wires that tether you to the machines. As he settles beside you on the bed, his comforting presence envelops you like a protective shield, igniting a flicker of warmth that kindles a fire within your soul, banishing the lingering shadows.

You turn to him, your gaze tender as you witness the silent testament of his emotions, a few tears tracing their path down his cheeks. With heartfelt sincerity, you express the depths of your gratitude, your voice soft yet laden with profound meaning. “Thank you, Jimin, for saving me,” you whisper, each word a poignant acknowledgement of the profound impact of his selfless act.

You observe as a cascade of tears continues to journey down his captivating face, each drop a testament to the depth of his emotions. Without hesitation, you lean closer, seeking solace in the rhythm of his heartbeat, nestling your head into the sanctuary of his neck. In his embrace, you find refuge from the turmoil of the past, finding peace amidst the storm of emotions.

“You don’t have to thank me love, I would do anything for you,” he murmurs tenderly, intertwining his fingers with yours once more, his touch a gentle reassurance.

“Are you alright, though? You went into the fire to save me... Are you hurt?” you inquire, gazing up at his face, tracing the contours of his razor-sharp jawline, the delicate arrangement of moles adorning his neck, and the trio of moles gracing his forehead. He’s so breathtaking.

His chest is a comforting support, and you can feel the gentle vibrations as he speaks. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just worried about you,” he assures, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet hospital room.

You smile against his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace enveloping you. “I’m alive thanks to you,” you whisper softly, the words carrying the weight of your gratitude. In this moment, you’re overwhelmed by the flood of emotions coursing through you—love, gratitude, and a profound sense of being alive. You’re grateful for his heroic actions, for the precious gift of life he’s given you. Because in that harrowing moment, when flames threatened to engulf everything, you were certain it was the end. Yet here you are, with him by your side, and there’s a world of possibilities waiting to be explored together. You're filled with a deep appreciation for every moment, every experience yet to come, with him as your steadfast companion. As you bask in the warmth of his love, you feel your heart brimming with an overwhelming abundance of affection, ready to overflow at any moment.

You squeeze his hand gently and lift yourself up a bit, yearning to lock eyes with him. His gaze meets yours, and you can see the remnants of emotion lingering in his eyes. “Jimin,” you start, your hand finding its place over his heart, feeling its steady rhythm beneath your touch. As you look up at him, his hazel eyes capture yours, and a tender smile graces his lips, revealing his endearing crooked teeth. 

“Did I ever tell you how much I love you?” The words spill from your lips, carrying with them the depth of your affection, the intensity of your feelings for him.

His eyes soften, and with a gentle touch, he traces the curve of your cheek, his fingers lingering on your lips. As his touch glides over your bottom lip, a wave of tingles dances down your spine, and an involuntary moan escapes your lips, soft and breathy.

“You have told me. And I love you too,” he reassures, his voice a soft caress against your lips. With a surge of affection, you lean in, pressing your lips against his, savoring the softness and warmth that only his kisses bring. It's a tender embrace, each moment stretching as if time itself pauses, conveying the depth of your love and gratitude in the gentle meeting of your lips.

“Jimin,” you murmur, the weight of your words heavy with emotion, as you draw in a deep breath, feeling the electric hum of love coursing through your veins. “I don’t want to waste another moment. I want to spend every heartbeat, every breath, with you—for all eternity.”

You observe the shift in Jimin’s expression, his eyes widening like saucers, and a flicker of uncertainty dances across his features. Did you overstep? You quickly reassure yourself—it’s not a proposal, merely a declaration of your unwavering devotion. You just want him to understand that you're in this for the long haul.

“Don’t you want that?” You inquire, peering into his eyes, hoping to decipher the unexpected silence that now envelops him.

“Are you proposing to me?” He queries, a perplexed furrow forming on his brow, and you respond with a gentle smile.

“No, I just want to let you know that I want to be together forever. Not that I’m opposed to marriage or anything,” you clarify, your voice soft with affection, and you offer a reassuring smile. As you observe his expression easing, a warm chuckle escapes your lips.

“Also,” you begin earnestly, meeting your boyfriend's gaze, “I want you to know that I’m okay with Deiji, too. I’m ready to help take care of your child as if they were my own.” You grip his hands gently, acknowledging the complexity of the situation. You realize you haven’t fully addressed the challenges of his impending fatherhood and the presence of his ex, and you want to make amends.

His expression shifts, a subtle blend of emotions crossing his features—sadness, maybe regret. It’s a moment of vulnerability that you can’t quite decipher, leaving you feeling unsettled and curious all at once.

“What’s wrong?” you inquire, your voice soft but laden with concern as you peer deeply into his eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the turmoil brewing within him.

He releases a heavy sigh before mustering the courage to speak. “It turns out the baby isn’t mine,” he reveals, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and resignation, his eyes searching yours for understanding.

Your eyes widen, the realization sinking in like a heavy stone dropped into a tranquil pond. Weeks of intuition, of silent doubts, now confirmed in a single sentence. Yet, amidst your own turmoil, you ache for him, realizing the depth of his happiness at the prospect of fatherhood, now shattered by this revelation.

“Deiji lied,” he exhales, his voice carrying a mix of resignation and acceptance. Despite the gravity of the situation, there’s an odd calmness in his demeanor, tinged with a hint of subdued sorrow, as if he’s come to terms with the betrayal.

“Wait, that means…” You pause, the realization dawning on you slowly, each piece falling into place like a puzzle.

“Yeah, she cheated on me,” he utters, his voice laced with a complex blend of anger and sorrow, the betrayal still fresh in his mind.

Tenderly, you cup his cheek, your touch conveying volumes of empathy. “Jimin, I’m so sorry,” you whisper, your voice a soft balm to his wounded heart.

He shakes his head gently, a weary smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice carrying a quiet strength despite the storm raging within him.

You shake your head adamantly, the weight of his pain echoing in your heart. “No, it’s not. Cheating is never okay,” you assert, your voice firm with conviction. “And I know how much you looked forward to becoming a father.”

You envelop him in a tight embrace, seeking solace in each other’s arms. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your words laden with empathy and understanding, as if trying to absorb his pain into your own being.

His hands find your back, his touch gentle yet seeking solace in the familiarity of your embrace. It's a moment of silent understanding, where words aren’t needed, just the reassurance of each other’s presence.

He draws back, his gaze sincere as he speaks, “It’s okay. I never wanted her. It’s always been you, and I know I’ve made mistakes in the past, dating her just to spite you. I’m sorry for that. But you’re the one who matters to me.” His words hang in the air, heavy with honesty and a newfound clarity.

As his bottom lip quivers, you draw him closer, pressing your lips against his in a reassuring kiss. “It’s okay, Jimin,” you murmur softly against his mouth. “I forgive you, okay?” The warmth of your embrace envelops him, offering solace in the midst of his turmoil.

Tears glisten in his eyes as he sniffles, his nod a silent acknowledgment of your forgiveness. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “With how I behaved, I know I don’t deserve your love. But I’m grateful to have it.” His admission lays bare his vulnerability, underscoring the depth of his appreciation for your understanding and acceptance.

You tenderly stroke his head, guiding him into the embrace of your chest, finding solace in the warmth of each other’s presence. Both of you have your share of mistakes, and it’s not solely his burden to carry. You’ve reconciled before, acknowledging past errors, and now, in this intimate moment, you reaffirm your forgiveness. As you hold him closer, you silently convey reassurance, promising that together, you’ll weather any storm that comes your way.

You linger in that comforting embrace for what feels like an eternity, finding solace in each other’s presence amidst the tumult of emotions. However, as the minutes pass, your mind drifts back to the charred remnants of your home, now a haunting memory etched in the flames’ aftermath. The uncertainty gnaws at your heart, casting doubt on the notion of having a place to call home, leaving you grappling with a profound sense of loss and displacement.

As you hold Jimin close, seeking comfort in the warmth of his presence, a pressing question weighs on your mind like a heavy stone. “Jimin?” you murmur, feeling the subtle shift of his movements against you. “How badly... how badly was the ranch burned?” The words hang in the air, laden with the weight of uncertainty, echoing the flickering flames that devoured everything in their path, leaving behind a trail of destruction.

As Jimin eases back, his eyes meet yours, revealing the toll of the recent turmoil etched upon his features. “Almost the entirety of the house is gone,” he confesses, his voice carrying the weight of sorrow, “but everything else remains unscathed.”

Your heart plummets, and the once bright smile on your face fades into a grim realization. It's the nightmare you dreaded, the cherished sanctuary of your childhood now reduced to ashes, swallowed by the unforgiving flames.

“So I have nowhere to live?” You voice the question, its timidity echoing in the sterile confines of the room, laden with uncertainty and a hint of despair.

“You’re welcome to stay with me. All of you,” he offers, his voice a comforting embrace, as soothing as a summer's night. The words wash over you, a balm to your uncertainty, and you find solace in the idea of sharing a home with your boyfriend, if only temporarily while your beloved ranch is rebuilt.

“I’d love that, thank you,” you beam at him, drawing close for another kiss. As his arms envelop you, you feel a rush of warmth, reassurance flooding your senses. In that moment, locked in each other’s embrace, you realize with certainty that amidst the ashes of your past, a new beginning awaits, and everything, somehow, will be alright.

You, your sister, and your stable hands have all relocated to Jimin and Jungkook’s ranch while yours undergoes reconstruction. Several months have passed, and living in your boyfriend’s abode has proven to be a delightful experience. Jimin has effortlessly woven you into the fabric of his life, making you feel cherished and embraced at every turn. Together with Jungkook, they’ve played the role of hosts and chefs, dishing out delicious meals that have become cherished memories, a testament to the warmth and hospitality that permeate every corner of their home.

It’s as if you’ve found your true home, and you start to wonder if maybe home isn’t defined by a location, but by a sensation, a warmth nestled within your heart. It’s the feeling that envelops you when you’re surrounded by those you hold dear, a sense of belonging that transcends physical boundaries.

Despite the comfort and warmth you’ve found in this temporary haven, your heart yearns for the day your own ranch will be restored to its former glory. With just a month or two remaining until completion, the anticipation bubbles within you like an eager child awaiting Christmas morning.

“Do you look forward to moving back home?” Jimin’s voice breaks through the tranquility of the moment, drawing your attention away from the serenity of the couch. His fingers intertwine with yours, a gesture so familiar and comforting. His question hangs in the air, stirring something within you as you ponder the imminent return to your beloved ranch.

You shift your focus to him, your eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions. A soft smile graces your lips as you wrestle with your thoughts. “It’s a bit of a mixed bag,” you confess, your tone tinged with uncertainty.

You nestle closer to him, your gaze drifting down to his velvety lips, tempting and inviting. “I’ve grown to love it here,” you murmur, your voice soft with affection. “It feels like home, with you.” 

Pausing, you meet his gaze again, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Yet, there’s a different kind of warmth waiting for me back at our ranch. I miss that familiarity too.”

As he nods, his gaze deepens, hinting at unspoken desires. Drawing closer, your lips meet in a passionate embrace, igniting a rush of sensations. You press into the kiss, a hunger driving you to explore deeper, to savor the intoxicating taste of him. His tongue envelops you, a blend of sweetness and longing, leaving you craving more with each kiss of his soft lips.

With a shared laugh, you both pull back, locking eyes filled with a mix of affection and mirth. The moment lingers, a silent understanding passing between you as you bask in the warmth of each other.

“I’m thrilled you feel at home here. Having you by my side every night is beyond amazing,” he confesses, his eyes shimmering with adoration, his smile speaking volumes. You're drawn to him like a magnet, leaning in for another kiss. While you’ll miss the nights spent together, there’s comfort in knowing you have a few more months to cherish these moments before returning home.

Amidst the kiss, he chuckles softly and breaks away, “As much as I’m loving this, we’ve got work to do. Remember we have to put hay into the stalls while the horses are out?”

You chuckle, realizing you've been indulging in too much couch time, wrapped up in kisses and embraces rather than tending to your responsibilities. “You’re right,” you agree, rising from the couch. “Time to get back to work. Let’s do it.”

You both stand up, Jimin's hand fitting perfectly into yours as you stride out of the house together, heading towards the expansive stables. 

Amidst the rustic charm, you locate the towering stacks of hay tucked at the back. With a shared glance and a silent agreement, you both dive into the task, filling your wheelbarrow with fragrant hay. Laughter bubbles between you, turning the chore into a playful competition, each of you determined to fill the wheelbarrow faster than the other.

With a victorious grin, you complete the task first, playfully teasing Jimin by sticking your tongue out as you seize the wheelbarrow and start pushing it down the aisle of the barn. Jimin, undeterred, swiftly grabs another wheelbarrow, determined to catch up, his movements swift and purposeful as he gathers hay, his competitive spirit ignited by your playful challenge.

In the bustling aisle of the barn, he leaps into action beside you, tossing bundles of hay into each stall with practiced ease. Amidst the flurry, a clump of hay finds its way into his blonde locks, prompting a mischievous glint in his eye as you yelp, attempting to evade him. With a playful smirk, he retaliates, clutching a sizable heap of hay and closing in on you, his laughter blending with yours in the echoing space of the barn.

“No, no, babe!” You giggle, attempting to evade Jimin’s playful assault with the hay, but he’s determined, closing in on you until you’re backed into a corner. 

With a mischievous grin, he launches the hay into the air, creating a whimsical downpour that envelops you like a gentle rain shower. As the golden strands settle around you, you’re captivated by the intensity in his eyes, darkened with desire. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, sending a shiver down your spine as he presses his thigh against your core, eliciting a sharp intake of breath.

He stands before you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, as if he’s just sprinted a marathon, yet you both know he hasn’t moved a muscle. His proximity is suffocatingly close, his breath warming your skin, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, teasing but not quite touching. 

You seize his chiseled jaw with an urgency born of desire, yanking him down towards you, your lips crashing together in a fervent collision of passion. The kiss is fierce, a whirlwind of hunger and longing, leaving no room for hesitation or restraint. Each movement is charged with an intensity that sets your senses ablaze, as if you’re trying to convey a lifetime of love and longing in that single, electric moment.

As you delve deeper into the kiss, a surge of arousal courses through your veins, electrifying every inch of your being. His responding moan resonates within your mouth, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a firestorm of passion within you. It’s as if you’re suspended in mid-air, enveloped by the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours, lost in a realm where time stands still and the world fades away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a symphony of desire.

“You taste so damn good, always,” he pants between heated breaths, his fingers entangled in your hair, sending shivers down your spine with each gentle stroke. His gaze is intense, brimming with an insatiable hunger that mirrors your own, igniting an inferno of desire that threatens to consume you both. Every fiber of your being aches for him, your body responding eagerly to his touch, anticipation coursing through your veins like wildfire. It’s a testament to his prowess, his ability to awaken your senses with just a glance, leaving you trembling with longing and your desire pooling in your panties, aching for his touch.

“You too,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, the words laden with unspoken longing and affection as you rest your hands on his sturdy chest. His black t-shirt clings to his muscles in all the right places, accentuating every contour and ripple, and you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from the tantalizing sight. As your eyes wander downward, you can’t help but notice the subtle bulge straining against the fabric of his pants, igniting a fierce heat within you that threatens to consume your every thought.

“Jimin, I…” you gasp for breath, your chest heaving with desire as your eyes lock with his, burning with an intensity that mirrors the inferno raging within you. Every fiber of your being aches with longing, your body yearning for his touch, his embrace, his everything.

With a silent understanding passing between you, he nods knowingly, seizing your hand and pulling you with a sense of urgency back down the aisle, toward the towering haystacks. Each step quickens your pulse, anticipation electrifying the air as you follow him into the room with the hay, ready to lose yourselves in the haystacks and each other.

Amidst the scattered hay surrounding the towering bales, Jimin guides you down into the soft bed of straw, eliciting giggles as you sink into its fluffy embrace. Though the itch of the hay tickles your skin, it’s a minor nuisance compared to the thrill of Jimin’s weight pressing down on you, his lips tracing a fiery path along your neck. Each kiss and gentle nip leaves a tantalizing mark and you can’t help but giggle beneath him.

His thigh presses firmly between your legs, teasingly close to where you ache for him most. A soft whimper escapes your lips, a symphony of desire harmonizing with each tender caress of his mouth against your neck.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as your hands glide over Jimin’s hips, deftly unfastening his belt, your fingers trembling with anticipation. With each movement, you feel the urgency building within you, a primal need igniting every nerve ending. His low moan reverberates against your skin, sending shivers down your spine, and you can’t help but reciprocate, your name escaping his lips like a whispered prayer. As he grinds against you, your gaze locks with his, a silent promise of desire burning between you.

The intensity of your desire surges through every fiber of your being, igniting a primal hunger that demands to be satisfied. With trembling fingers, you tease at the waistband of his boxers, the anticipation electrifying the air between you. “Jimin,” you murmur, your voice thick with longing, “I want you to fuck me. I need you so bad.” Each word drips with urgency, a fervent plea for the release of the burning desire that consumes you both.

As he withdraws from the tender caress of your neck, his eyes lock onto yours, capturing the raw intensity of your lust. The delicate skin of your neck, adorned with the marks of his fervent affection, serves as a testament to the passion that courses between you. A deep, guttural groan escapes his lips, echoing the primal yearning that consumes you both.

His gaze mirrors your own urgency, reflecting the unbridled desire that courses through both of you. With a fervent hunger burning in his eyes, he reaches up, his touch gentle yet charged with longing, as his fingertips trace the contours of your cheek. “Fuck, yes,” he breathes, his voice thick with anticipation and longing.

Your fingers deftly navigate the fabric, eagerly removing any barrier between you and him. As his boxers pool around his knees, his hardened dick springs free, standing proudly before you, a tantalizing promise of pleasure. The sight of him, flushed and ready, sends a surge of desire coursing through you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” you murmur, your voice husky with desire, as you admire his girthy and veiny cock; the head is red and glistening with precum. The thought of feeling him inside you again ignites a fire within you, fueling your craving for him even more.

As your fingers stoke his dick, eliciting a gratifying hiss from Jimin, he reciprocates the fervor by deftly undoing your pants. Sensing the urgency in his touch, you relinquish your hold on him, allowing him to eagerly strip away the barriers between you. With a sense of urgency, he slides down your pants and panties.

“Babe, you’re already dripping,” his voice, a husky whisper, sends shivers down your spine as his eyes widen with desire. The intensity of his gaze ignites an inferno within you, fueling your longing for him. Unable to contain your desire any longer, you arch your hips upward, a silent plea for him to fulfill your burning need.

“Yeah. I just want you so bad,” you murmur between desperate kisses, your fingers curling into his shirt as you draw him closer. A surge of longing courses through you as you feel his dick pressing against your heated pussy. With each tantalizing movement of his hips, his cock brushes against your sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. Your grip on his arms tightens, your nails digging into his skin, as you lose yourself in the ecstasy of his touch.

“Fuck that’s good,” you gasp, your breath hitching with each delicious stroke of his cock against your folds and clit. Every movement sends electric currents of pleasure coursing through your body, igniting a fire of desire within you. Your senses are overwhelmed with the intoxicating blend of arousal and anticipation, leaving you trembling with need. As much as the friction against your most sensitive areas drives you wild, the ache for him to be inside you grows stronger with each passing moment.

His touch sends shivers down your spine as his fingers glide over your cheek, the intensity of his gaze reflecting the hunger coursing through him. 

“So wet,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp, filled with desire and need.

Your breath hitches as you spread your legs wider, offering yourself fully to him amidst the scattered hay, the remnants of clothing forgotten in the heat of the moment. Jimin'’s relentless grinding ignites a fervor within you, eliciting desperate cries of pleasure. But as your senses reel, you seize his movements, locking eyes with him in a primal plea. “Jimin,” you gasp, urgency lacing your voice, “I need you inside me—right now.”

His chuckle dances in the air, teasingly playful, as he savors your eagerness. “So impatient. But I want to take my time with you,” he muses, his voice a velvet caress that stirs desire. His playful pout almost breaks your resolve, but the ache between your thighs demands satisfaction. Your core pulses with anticipation, craving the exquisite fullness only he can provide; you need him to fill you up, feel the stretch of him, the tingles he gives you, oh so fucking delicious.

“You can take your time, once you’re inside me my love,” you murmur, your voice a seductive whisper that ignites a fire in his eyes. Cupping his cheeks, you draw him into a passionate kiss, your urgency urging him to fulfill your craving. He nods, his desire mirroring yours as he relinquishes the teasing of your clit, his focus shifting to the imminent union of your bodies.

His cock glistens with the slickness of your arousal, from all the rubbing he did to your clit. With a hand, he guides his dick, teasing your entrance with its velvety heat, each touch sending a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins.

“Jimin,” your breath catches in your throat as he teases your entrance again, your voice a soft warning in a hiss, urging him to take you fully. His chuckle, accompanied by that endearing display of crooked teeth you adore, is all the reassurance you need before he presses into your welcoming warmth, sending a shiver of pleasure coursing through your body.

Gradually, he eases himself into you, each inch a tantalizing stretch that sets your nerves ablaze. Your arousal has left you slick and ready, no sting, only the exquisite sensation of being completely filled. When he finally reaches the hilt, his disheveled hair framing his face in a tantalizing manner, he already appears thoroughly ravished by the desire coursing through him.

His breath hitches as he withdraws entirely, the intensity of his desire evident in the way he swiftly realigns and thrusts back inside you with force.

You moan his name, fingers digging into his biceps as you plead, “Harder, babe.”

Jimin complies, but his pace remains deliberate. He did say he wanted to take his time with you. Each thrust is deliberate, unhurried, yet filled with a sensuality that drives you relentlessly toward the edge of ecstasy.

With every thrust, he emits a low grunt, his nose scrunching in concentration, a sight that makes you smile because you think it looks so damn cute and it makes your heart flutter with love.

An incessant itch prickles at your back, a reminder of the hay strewn beneath you. You silently thank the fabric of your shirt for shielding you, sparing you from the discomfort that would surely ensue if it weren’t there. 

In the silence that envelops you both, your eyes lock in a wordless exchange brimming with intimacy. No words are needed as you bask in the profound connection between you. His presence alone speaks volumes, echoing the depth of your union. Each of his deliberate thrusts plunges you into a realm of ecstasy, delving deeper until he finds that sweet spot, igniting sensations that curl your toes and leave you gasping for more.

His breaths come in ragged pants, matching the rhythm of his deliberate thrusts—each one deep, hard, and achingly slow. You sense his awareness of the way your walls clench around him, urging him on. With a voice strained with desire, he murmurs, “Are you close?”

“Yeah,” you gasp, the word barely escaping your lips as your body writhes beneath him, consumed by the intoxicating rush of pleasure.

His fingers dance over your pulsating clit, each stroke synchronized perfectly with his deep, rhythmic thrusts, sending electrifying waves of pleasure coursing through your body. With every delicate touch on your small bundle of nerves, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of a climax as your breath quickens.

“Come on my cock,” he urges, his voice a husky command that sends shivers down your spine. With a firm grip on your throbbing clit, he intensifies his movements, his eyes ablaze with desire as he implores you to let go, to surrender to the pleasure coursing through your body.

His image is a sinful delight, with his tousled blonde locks framing his sweaty face, his dick lodged inside you electrifying, and his skilled fingers orchestrating ecstasy on your throbbing clit. It’s overwhelming, the sensation building inside you, simmering for what feels like an eternity until you finally surrender. With a primal whimper, you give in to the release, your body convulsing in pleasure as you climax around his cock.

“Fuck,” breathless and trembling, you pant, feeling him withdraw his fingers from your throbbing clit, yet continuing his languid, deep, and unhurried thrusts. Every movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. Despite your disheveled state, he chuckles softly, but you find solace in his amusement, knowing that in this moment, nothing else matters.

Lost in a haze of lust, you fail to register the creak of the door opening until it’s nearly too late.

“I just have to find my jacket, I think I left it here somewhere,” your heart skips a beat as Hoseok’s voice echoes through the stables, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps. Wide-eyed, you let out an involuntary moan, still gasping for air, and your gaze shoots to Jimin, his girthy cock still buried deep inside your pussy.

You witness the panic reflected in Jimin’s widened eyes, attempting to push him away in haste. But before you can utter a word, he leans in closer, applying gentle pressure to silence you, his hand enveloping your mouth as he breathes a hushed “Shhh.”

As the tension thickens, you wonder if Jimin truly grasps the gravity of the situation. The sounds of Hoseok and Yoongi echo through the stables, each footstep amplifying your anxiety. The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine – the potential fallout from such an encounter is enough to make your heart race. Yet, amidst the turmoil, Jimin remains a statue beside you, his presence a reassuring anchor in the storm of uncertainty. Together, you hold your breath, silently praying for the imminent danger to pass unnoticed.

He stills inside you, not moving an inch. All you can do is hope that they don’t notice you and that they find Hoseok’s jacket fast.

The tension mounts as Hoseok’s voice draws nearer, his words cutting through the air like a blade. “Why is there hay scattered everywhere? And the wheelbarrows out on the aisle, that ain’t safe,” his mumble sends a chill down your spine, amplifying the urgency of your predicament. 

Each step he takes feels like a countdown to potential disaster, and you find yourself holding your breath, praying for a miracle to spare you from discovery.

“Are you sure you left it here?” Yoongi’s voice carries a hint of irritation, slicing through the tension like a knife. 

Despite the gravity of the situation, a chuckle escapes you, a tiny spark of levity in the midst of chaos. But that innocent sound proves costly, as Jimin’s dick shifts inside you, coaxing a soft moan from your lips, muffled by his warm and gentle hand. 

Then, as if time itself holds its breath, silence descends like a heavy shroud, enveloping you in a suffocating embrace. You hold your own breath, a silent prayer echoing through the chambers of your mind, pleading with the universe to spare you this embarrassment. The only sound is the frantic thud of your heart, each beat a drumroll of impending doom. You strain your ears, every nerve on edge, listening for the slightest hint of movement. Finally, the faint shuffle of feet reaches your ears, a symphony of relief as the danger retreats, leaving you trembling in its wake.

Jimin’s lips descend upon your neck, his touch both urgent and tantalizing, while his hand remains firmly pressed against your mouth, stifling any sound that threatens to escape. Each kiss, each nip sends a jolt of electric pleasure coursing through your veins, even as your mind races with the intensity of the situation. Fuck. Is he serious? Does he want to be found fucking you?

A mixture of a rush of lust and adrenaline rushed through you and you don’t know what to do. 

Are they gone?

You squirm beneath him, his touch is delicious and igniting a wildfire within you. His dick still rests inside you, not moving, the sensation is nice, and fuck you love it.

“I think it’s over here,” as Hoseok’s voice draws nearer, your heart races like a stallion thundering across open plains, each beat echoing in your ears like a drumroll of impending doom. You strain against Jimin’s firm grip, your breaths coming in ragged gasps that threaten to betray your hidden rendezvous. With every step they take, the weight of the moment presses down on you like a heavy bale of hay, the urgency of silence now a lifeline you desperately cling to. Thank god Jimin is covering your mouth, because you’re not being silent at all.

“Hobi. Let’s go,” Yoongi’s voice slices through the air like a whip crack, sharp and commanding, sending a jolt of apprehension coursing through your veins. It's the sound of authority, the kind that brooks no argument, and you hold your breath, willing the seconds to stretch into eternity, praying they won’t uncover your hidden embrace.

“Why? I have to find my jacket,” Hoseok’s plea rings out, laden with urgency, but it’s futile against the force of Yoongi’s insistence. There’s a tug-of-war in their voices, a battle of priorities playing out in the dimness of the stable. You shift slightly, granting Jimin more access to your neck, and your eyes dart around, landing on a jacket nearby. Fuck. It’s a stark realization—it’s likely Hoseok’s, the very item he’s desperately searching for amidst the scattered hay.

“We can find it later,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the tension like a sharp blade, its edge honed with unwavering resolve. 

“But babe, I think I left it by the hay, I’ll just grab it real quick,” he tries to plead again, his voice carrying a hint of desperation, a last-ditch effort to salvage his misplaced belonging.

“No. We can get it later. I have to show you something outside,” he says, his voice carrying an air of urgency, a mysterious promise laced within his words. It sounds like Hoseok finally relents, abandoning his search for the jacket.

Exasperated, he grumbles, “I don’t get why I can’t get my jacket, but fine,” as their footsteps gradually fade into the distance.

Jimin’s teeth graze your neck, igniting a surge of electric desire that courses through every fiber of your being.

As the door clicks shut, Jimin releases his grip on your mouth, allowing you to draw in a long-awaited breath, relief washing over you like a wave.

Breathless with adrenaline, you exclaim, “Damn, that was too fucking close!” 

Playfully smacking his chest while your heart still races, you chuckle. Despite the tension, a smile tugs at your lips as he runs a hand through his tousled hair, his bitten lip betraying a hint of mischief.

With a low chuckle, he leans in to capture your lips in a hungry kiss before resuming his rhythmic movements, each thrust deeper than the last, sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body.

He withdraws slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he teases, “Bet you’re grateful for keeping quiet now, aren’t you?”

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you retort, “Were you aiming to get caught? Is that a kink of yours?”

His laughter resonates, a rich blend of depth and sweetness, as he utters your name with a fervent moan, “I couldn’t care less.”

With a gentle stroke of your hair, he whispers, “You were so good at being silent babe. Where do you want me to come?”

You bask in the warmth of his praise, reveling in the intoxicating feeling of being praised. His thrusts become more urgent, yet he maintains a deliberate pace, each movement driving you closer to your orgasm. With a sense of urgency in his rhythm, you know he’s on the brink of release. Breathlessly, you reply, “Inside me.”

“Fuck. Do you think you can come again?” His question hangs in the air, charged with anticipation, his gaze smoldering with devilish intent. The tantalizing nip of his lip sends shivers down your spine, a thrilling danger you can’t resist. With a fervent nod, you invite the challenge. As his finger finds its way back to your clit, a primal moan escapes your lips, surrendering to the electric sensation.

Every touch, every caress, every moment with him is an intoxicating blend of ecstasy and longing. He fills you, surrounds you, consumes you in the most exhilarating way possible. You’re insatiable for him, craving his presence with a hunger that can never be fully satiated.

“You’re taking me so good, babe,” His voice, a husky rasp, sends shivers down your spine as he praises you again. You can’t help but admire the way his jaw clenches in pleasure, god he’s breathtaking.

His breaths come in ragged gasps as he increases the tempo, driving deeper and faster into you. The sensation is electrifying, sending you spiraling closer to the edge once more, your body teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

“Jimin, I’m gonna come again,” gasping his name, you lock eyes with Jimin, your plea echoing in the intensity of your gaze as he expertly pinches and pulls at your clit. A symphony of sensations overwhelms you, and you’re unable to contain the loud moans escaping your lips, your hand instinctively seeking to stifle them. Despite your efforts, ecstasy washes over you once more, your body convulsing in pleasure amidst the prickly embrace of the hay, as Jimin relentlessly propels you through the waves of your climax.

“Shit, so fucking pretty babe,” his words, dripping with raw desire, ignite a fire within you as he showers you with praise once more. The intensity of his admiration sends a surge of both love and lust coursing through your veins, causing your inner walls to pulsate with a primal need that only he can satisfy.

His hands assertively grip your hips, drawing you into him, while your fingers clench his sturdy biceps, anchoring yourself in the electrifying moment. His parted lips and rapid breaths synchronize with the rhythmic thrust of his hips, each movement a testament to his escalating desire. The friction of his dick against your walls elicits a delicious sensation, a prelude to the impending climax. You watch, captivated, as he nears the edge, pleasure etching across his features—his furrowed brows, scrunched nose, and the tightening grip of his hands on your hips. With a primal grunt, he releases his warm essence deep inside you, punctuating the moment with the fervent utterance of your name.

With a few final, fervent thrusts, he drives into you, while a mixture of both your juices spills out of your spent pussy and trails down to the hay. Gasping for air, chests rising and falling with the intensity of your shared ardor, you both revel in the aftermath of your ecstasy. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he leans in to capture your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

As he moans your name, the sound reverberates through your body, sending intoxicating shivers cascading down your spine. Your body responds instinctively, pulsating around him with an undeniable fervor. 

He withdraws slightly, trailing his lips down to your neck, where he plants soft, lingering kisses before tracing a path upward to your ear. The warmth of his breath caresses your skin, sending delightful shivers coursing through your body as you quiver beneath him. Though his words are whispered, they echo loudly in the depths of your being, “I love you.”

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | eight

🐴Chapter summary: with Jessi in a wheelchair you’ve taken on every task around the ranch, and finally realize how hard it is to run. But it’s a welcomed escape from Jimin, though it doesn’t help when Jungkook tries to push you two together again. 🐴Chapter title: Love You, Hate You 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: mention of blood from a head wound, some blood from a cow giving birth and otherwise the standard angst and angriness. Yep, sorry again 😭 Things will somewhat start to look up in the next chapter!! ☀️ And if you feel like you need a reminder where the story is heading, read this spoiler 🫶 🐴Status: completed 🥳 🐴Word count: 9.5k

🐴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 💿 “Love You, Hate You” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: I really feel like I’m putting my characters through hell 😂 I really do feel bad for Jimin and MC — but we’re almost there!!!! (also, when do you think one of them will snap and finally talk to each other???). 

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there. Wanna see the book cover?

wanna read a teeny tiny teaser for the next chapter? [here]

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →

“Hate you, love you, want you and I need you It’s not easy It makes me cry Need you, want you, hate you Love you, need you, want you Gotta go, say goodbye, say goodbye” - ‘Love you, Hate you’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Once more, Jungkook propels the car with an urgency that flirts with recklessness, yet you refrain from voicing concern. The unspoken agreement between you acknowledges his competence behind the wheel. Witnessing the transformation, his tears replaced by a steely resolve as he assumes control, leaves you in awe. The shift in his focus is palpable, a laser-sharp intensity that cuts through the emotional haze.

The familiar road unravels beneath the wheels, leaving a veil of dust in the truck’s turbulent wake. Your gaze fixates on the passing landscape, a silent witness to the gravity of the night. The realization dawns that informing the girls is not just a practical idea; it’s a lifeline to assuage their likely anguish. Retrieving your phone from the snug pocket of your jeans, you declare your intention, fingers poised to bridge the distance between uncertainty and reassurance. “Just gonna inform the girls.”

Jungkook nods, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on the road ahead. You embark on a mission, fingers dialing Soo-ah’s number with a determined precision. The phone ascends to your ear, the ensuing silence pregnant with the unspoken gravity of the message you’re about to deliver. 

The moment Soo-ah’s voice resonates through the phone, an undertone of anxiety and fear punctuates the connection, mirroring the collective uncertainty that binds you all. “Jessi’s been in a car accident, and we’re en route to the hospital,” you disclose, your voice carrying the weight of recent tears. However, amid the distress, you impart a tentative reassurance, “She’s alive, but there’s something off—her words were slurred. I think she hit her head. But we will know more when we get to the hospital.” 

Turning to Jungkook, you observe the fierce determination etched in the pallor of his knuckles, a testament to the vice-like grip on the wheel. Traces of dried tears mar his cheeks, a visual echo of the emotional tempest that has swept through him. In that moment, a palpable lump lodges itself in your throat, an involuntary response to the profound vulnerability laid bare in the silent interplay of clenched fists and tear-stained faces. 

The remainder of the journey unfolds in stifling silence, the cabin suffused with an unspoken tension that hangs thick in the air. The specter of fear, like an insidious intruder, stealthily reclaims its place within the confines of your bones. 

Anxiety courses through you—for Jessi’s well-being, for the unknown revelations awaiting, for the uncertain terrain that stretches beyond. The all-encompassing fear becomes an insidious force, its weight rendering the atmosphere within the confined space utterly paralyzing.

The hospital materializes on the horizon, a beacon of both hope and trepidation. Jungkook, propelled by urgency, deftly navigates the maze of parking spaces, abruptly silencing the truck’s ignition before catapulting out of the vehicle with a sense of purpose. 

In tandem, you and Jungkook storm into the emergency department, urgency pulsating with every step. As you approach the desk, a receptionist greets you with a smile—her eyes, pools of warmth and empathy, mirroring the softness of her welcoming expression. 

“We’re looking for Jessi,” Jungkook declares, a pillar of tension leaning against the elevated desk. 

The receptionist’s nod is both swift and affirmative, a reassuring beacon in the sea of apprehension. “Room 134340,” she utters, the numeric sequence hanging in the air like a lifeline. 

In unison, you and Jungkook practically bolt towards the imposing doors, a shared urgency propelling you forward. The corridor becomes a labyrinth of tension as you navigate the sea of room numbers, each passing moment marked by the thunderous cadence of your hearts echoing within your chests. 

Please let her be okay.

At last, the numbers the receptionist shared come into view, and with a delicate touch, you ease the door open, unveiling a serene image—Jessi, reclined on the bed in peaceful sleep. Your gaze lingers on her slumbering form, taking in the telltale signs of the ordeal she endured—bandages encircling her head, a cast cradling her right arm, and another enveloping her left leg. 

The scene before you paints a grim reality, a tapestry of injuries that whispers tales of struggle. Yet, in the midst of this stark portrayal, the ember of relief flickers—she’s alive. 

A lump lodges in your throat once more, and with teardrops poised in the corners of your eyes, you approach your sister. Jungkook follows in your wake, settling on the bed. Leaning in, he tenderly caresses her cheek, mirroring the gentle touch that first bridged the gap between his fingers and her skin at the scene of the accident. 

Your gaze lingers, capturing the rivulets of tears tracing Jungkook’s expressive contours once more. In the soft luminescence of the room, his eyes shimmer with a profound mixture of emotion, fixated on your sister. 

A hush descends as the door swings open, ushering in a figure clad in the sterile garb of a doctor. Your attention pivots, fixating on this harbinger of information. 

“Hello. Are you Jessi’s family?” The doctor’s gaze oscillates between you and Jungkook, and your response is encapsulated in a silent nod. Words seem to elude you once more.

“Yeah, This is her sister, and I’m her friend,” Jungkook affirms, his voice carrying a burdened undertone that hints at the unspoken complexities and tensions simmering beneath the surface—an emotional undercurrent that has woven its threads through the past weeks. 

The doctor’s nod carries a weighty reassurance as he imparts the diagnosis. “Alright. Jessi has a minor concussion; the impact against the steering wheel caused some bleeding. She’s also dealing with a broken arm and leg, along with a few bruised ribs. Thankfully, that’s the extent of her injuries,” he imparts. 

“When can she come home?” Jungkook’s voice, simultaneously textured with rough edges and a tender timbre, resonates in the room. He reaches for Jessi’s hand—the one untouched by the cast—infusing the question with an unspoken urgency and a touch of vulnerability. 

“As a precaution due to the concussion, we’d like to keep her under observation for a day or two. After that, you can take her home. However, she’ll need to use a wheelchair, and rest is absolutely crucial,” the doctor informs you, leaving a weighty prescription for recovery in the air. With that, he departs, leaving the two of you alone with Jessi, still in the embrace of a healing slumber. 

Your gaze locks onto Jungkook, and as Jessi’s fingers stir against his, a soft gasp escapes you. Jungkook, attuned to the subtle movements, shifts his attention to your sister’s face. Her eyes, a slow dance of reawakening, flutter open, and she casts a weary but genuine smile at both of you. “Hi,” she utters, and the simplicity of that greeting carries a profound weight, a testament to resilience and the indomitable spirit that endures even in the face of adversity.

A shared chuckle resonates between you and Jungkook, but he takes the lead, concern etched in his question, “How are you holding up?” 

“Everything fucking hurts,” she confesses, the words escaping through gritted teeth, and a wince that lingers in the air. 

As you observe, her speech is no longer marred by slurs, and a glimmer of hope flickers within you. Offering a gentle smile, you cling to this positive sign, a fragile beacon of recovery in the aftermath of the accident. 

“We were worried there for a second,” you admit with a smile, your heart still tethered to the lingering uneasiness. 

“I’m fine. I’m gonna be fine,” she reassures with a languid smile, her eyes retaining a drowsy allure. 

Jungkook continues to tenderly stroke her hand, a lone tear betraying his emotion as it slips from the corner of his eye. 

“Why are you crying?” Jessi inquires in a weary tone, her question carrying a subtle mix of curiosity and fatigue. The fatigue in her tone, juxtaposed with the curiosity in her eyes, creates a moment of vulnerability and curiosity, inviting the reader to delve deeper into the emotional intricacies of the scene.

“Because you look so bad,” he chuckles through a teasing sob, a bittersweet smile dancing on his lips as he attempts to lighten the heavy atmosphere with a touch of humor. 

Jessi scuffs, “If I could slap ya, I would,” she drags out, a playful smirk tugging at her lips, “Sis, can you do it for me?” 

You shake your head, a fond smile playing on your lips as you observe their usual teasing banter. Despite the ordeal, the fact that she can still summon her playful spirit brings a sense of relief, a small but reassuring glimmer in the midst of uncertainty.

Your laughter lingers in the air, but a subtle sadness creeps into your voice as you inquire, “What happened?” 

She groans, eyes rolling in frustration as she recounts, “There was this red car that appeared out of nowhere in the turn, driving on the wrong side of the road.” 

Your eyes widen with concern, a gasp escaping your lips. “What happened to the red car? Did it just drive off?” 

“Managed to dodge the car, but ended up colliding with a damn tree instead,” she says, a hint of frustration in her tone. 

“And to top it off, the guy just speeds away like nothing happened!” she scoffs, her irritation palpable and echoing the injustice of the situation.

“Do you have any idea who that was?” Jungkook demands, a mix of curiosity and sternness in his gaze, his fist clenching at his side as if ready to confront the reckless driver.

“Some arrogant city slicker. Never seen that car around here. Clearly not a local,” she scoffs, disdain dripping from her words as she curses the reckless driver.

“Can you call Namjoon for me?” she suddenly requests, locking eyes with you. You find yourself curious about why she specifically wants to talk to Namjoon at this moment.

When you shoot her a quizzical look, she adds, “I want to tell him something.”

“Can’t it wait?” you counter, not quite grasping why it’s so urgent for her to speak with Namjoon right now.

“No.” 

Fine. You reluctantly pull out your phone and dial Namjoon. Describing the situation, you implore him to come as soon as possible, and he assures you he’ll be there swiftly.

As the minutes tick by in the hushed room, the tension thickens, yet an unspoken understanding binds you, Jessi, and Jungkook together. Silence reigns, pregnant with the weight of shared concern, creating a strangely comforting atmosphere.

The hospital doors burst open, revealing a disheveled Namjoon sprints in, clutching a bouquet of flowers. His eyes scan the room, taking in the sight of your sister lying on the bed, and his breath catches in a mix of relief and worry.

His voice laced with concern, Namjoon places the bouquet on the bedside table, his eyes fixed on your sister. “It looks bad. Are you okay?” he inquires, his worry echoing in the sterile hospital room.

“Fuck you. I’m fine,” she retorts, a smirk playing on her lips. The room fills with laughter, and seizing the moment, you gesture to the couch on the other side of the room, silently signaling to give Jessi and Namjoon some space. Jungkook rises from the bed, joining you on the couch.

Without a hint of preamble or consideration for the weight of her words, Jessi suddenly declares, “I want to break up.” Her words echoing through the room with a weight that sends a jolt through both you and Jungkook. You exchange a glance, realizing you’ve stumbled upon a moment too intimate for your presence.

Namjoon wears a puzzled expression, questioning, “Are you sure about this? Is it the concussion talking?” 

Definitely, she shakes her head.  “No, my mind is crystal clear.”

Regret lingers in her eyes as she confesses, “I’m sorry, but I can’t be with you anymore. I want to break up.” Her gaze, tinged with sadness, speaks volumes as she nervously bites her lip, the weight of her decision palpable in the room.

Namjoon nods thoughtfully, “Okay. No hard feelings. I understand.” His gaze shifts to Jungkook, a hint of unspoken understanding passing between them. “You can always call me—whether it’s just to talk or if one of the animals gets sick. Friends?” The air seems to lighten with the sincerity of his words.

“Friends,” she breathes out, the words carrying the weight of a burden lifted from her heart. Her gratitude spills forth, a sincere “And thank you, Namjoon,” echoing in the room.

She shares a smile with him, and his response mirrors the sentiment. From your perch on the couch, the intimacy of their moment feels oddly intrusive, and you can’t shake the sense of being an unintended witness to the delicate unraveling of their relationship.

Namjoon pivots, offering a parting nod and a soft farewell before gracefully exiting the room.

As his presence fades, you exhale the breath you’d been clutching, the room finally free from tension. “Well, that was uncomfortable.”

Jessi chuckles, seemingly unfazed by the awkwardness you just witnessed, her laughter echoing through the room.

You rise to your feet, stretching your tired body, and with a gentle tone, you ask, “Do you want to head home now, Kook?”

Jungkook remains seated on the couch, exchanging a meaningful glance with your sister. “I was actually thinking about staying and bringing her home tomorrow,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet determination.

Your eyes flicker open, but you quickly compose your expression, offering them both a gentle smile. “I’ll call Soo-ah to come pick me up then,” you say, your voice carrying a mix of understanding and reassurance.

Jessi doesn’t possess a single bone wired for relaxation. Despite the doctors’ earnest advice to take it slow and steady, does she heed it? Absolutely not.

With determined grit, she maneuvers the wheelchair around the house with one hand, attempting to shoulder every task single-handedly, only to find herself faltering at each turn.

In her quest for a simple glass of water, disaster struck – the glass slipped from her grasp, dancing precariously on the edge of destruction before miraculously escaping the fate of shattered fragments.

Your sister’s unwavering stubbornness has sparked numerous discussions, leaving you weary from the incessant cycle of repeating yourself.

“Why can’t you just stay put and let me handle it?” you groan at her futile attempt to set the dinner table. Exasperated, you snatch the plate from her hand and expertly arrange it on the table.

You’ve relocated all her belongings to the guest room, a practical move given her current inability to navigate the stairs. It’s a convenience for everyone, yourself included.

Exasperated, you burst out, “Sit your ass down!”

Her laughter rings through the room as she retorts, “I am sitting.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at her playful defiance.

Kneeling down, your eyes lock onto hers, a plea in your gaze. “I can take care of everything for you. Pushing yourself too hard will only slow down your recovery. Is that what you really want?”

Her gaze shifts away, words escaping in a soft mumble, their meaning lost in the air between you.

“What was that?”

Her response is a defiant whisper, almost a rebellion against her own vulnerability. “No. I don’t want that. Fine. You can do everything. It’s just not in my nature to let everybody do everything for me.”

When you told your sister you could handle everything on the ranch, little did you anticipate the relentless demands that awaited. Now, sweat beads roll down your hairline, and sticky shirts cling to your fatigued body—your new normal. Soreness and exhaustion threaten to overcome you, yet you persist. The unwavering support of Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin becomes your lifeline, and you find yourself profoundly grateful for their presence. Without them, the daunting tasks ahead would be impossible.

Despite the relentless physical and mental demands, there’s an undeniable love that fuels your every effort. It’s in the rhythmic cadence of working with the horses, the joy of discovering ripe veggies in the garden, the satisfaction of feeding the cattle and horses. Cleaning the stable, tending to the yard, and meticulously fixing the fences become more than just chores—they’re threads woven into the tapestry of a passion that now defines you.

As if the outside challenges weren’t enough, the list of tasks inside the house seems never-ending—cleaning, organizing, tackling taxes, and conjuring up dinners that dance on the taste buds. The sheer magnitude of it all makes you marvel at Jessi’s ability to juggle these responsibilities, leaving you to wonder how she navigates this intricate dance without succumbing to the relentless rhythm of exhaustion.

In the whirlwind of responsibilities, Jungkook offers to lend his hands in fixing one of the fences on your property.

The anticipation of Jungkook’s assistance becomes a beacon of relief in your hectic schedule, and a mischievous thought flits through your mind—wondering if you could sweet-talk him into tackling the entire task, granting you a rare and much-needed moment of respite.

In the driver’s seat of your brand-new pickup truck, a lustrous shade of dark purple that gleams in the sunlight, you reflect on its arrival, replacing the ghost of the white one marred by Jessi’s unfortunate accident. The former wreck, irreparably damaged, made way for this sleek, modern model, boasting enhanced comfort that transforms every drive into a genuine pleasure.

As you turn the key in the ignition, the hum of the engine beneath you, and shift the truck into first gear, anticipation courses through you. The Eastern paddock awaits, its fence in need of repair, and Jungkook has promised to join you. The radio provides a lively soundtrack, and you find yourself singing along with joy, only to fall into a hushed silence as the familiar silhouette of a blue truck comes into view, neatly parked beside the fence.

Cursing under your breath, frustration seizes you as you realize Jungkook— that damn traitor, has sent his brother to handle the job he promised to do. 

The betrayal stings, especially considering the current strained terms between you and Jimin. Anger simmers within, escaping in a low, gritted scoff as you pull your car up beside Jimin’s.

Jimin dives into the task at hand, effortlessly measuring wire lengths and expertly cutting them to fit the fence. There’s no denying it, not that there ever was – Jimin is undeniably attractive. As you observe from the comfort of your car, your gaze lingers on his sweaty forehead, his biceps flexing beneath the rolled-up shirt. Another curse slips from your lips; why does he have to look this good?

A whirlwind of emotions courses through your veins – desire entangled with frustration. Jimin’s effect on your mind is infuriating. Yes, you still crave him, but the bitterness lingers. He chose someone else without engaging in a conversation about what transpired, a choice that feels painfully immature.

Relaxing your crossed arms, you swing the door open and step into the sweltering air. You circle the car to grab your tools and approach Jimin, who doesn’t bother to cast even a fleeting glance your way.

You scoff and roll your eyes. No greeting? This is a new low. You expected, at the very least, a bit of small talk. Seems like even that was too much to ask for.

“Hey, Jimin,” you say, attempting to mask the tension growing thick in the air. He remains silent, his focus fixed on his strong and calloused hands diligently working on the fence.

At least you’ve chosen to be the bigger person, maintaining your politeness. You dive into the task at hand, assisting him in measuring, cutting, and applying the new wire. The absence of conversation hangs heavy, a stifling silence that feels more like a heavy weight on your chest. It’s uncomfortable, this void between you two, and you can’t help but despise it with every fiber of your being.

In the suffocating silence, you realize that attempting conversation is futile, as he remains resolute in ignoring your every plea. Determined to endure the unbearable tension, you find yourself silently cursing Jungkook in your mind for orchestrating you into working with Jimin. There’s no question about it— you’ll have a serious talk with him later about this stupid plan of his!

Your hands accidentally collide with Jimin’s a few times, and the contact sends a jolt through you, a sensation you hastily withdraw from as if burned. The lingering touch awakens something buried deep within, a sentiment you’re determined to suppress. Those residual feelings must be banished, relegated to the recesses of your heart.

You can’t help but notice Jimin’s persistent gaze fixed upon you, and it’s disconcerting. The emotions swirling in the air are indescribable, leaving you puzzled about the cause of his intense scrutiny. Yet, the expression etched on his face is far from one of happiness or satisfaction; instead, it bears the weight of pain and unresolved sentiments.

The realization hits hard—there’s no denying it now. You and Jimin let your moment slip away, a truth that’s crystal clear now.

As a heavy sigh escapes your lips, you find yourself yearning for a past rewritten, a canvas of memories painted with different hues.

“It’s official!” 

In an exuberant burst of joy, you proclaim the moment, your voice echoing in giddy celebration as you sit on the grass. Beside you, Yoongi chuckles, and the tranquil scene unfolds with Holly and Marshmallow leisurely grazing on the grass.

Ecstatic, he declares, “We’re in business, baby!” His laughter resonates, and his radiant smile competes with the brilliance of the sun. You join in the laughter, though the pet name doesn’t quite sit right with you.

Playfully, you groan, “God, please don’t call me ’baby’,” as laughter continues to ripple between you. His response is a simple, hearty chuckle.

As the sun dips below the horizon, a serene quiet blankets the hilltop, providing a perfect backdrop to absorb the significance of the moment. You and Yoongi, now proud business owners of a wild horse gentling venture, revel in the excitement of the journey ahead. The prospect of working with more horses and bringing joy to people through these extraordinary animals fuels your anticipation.

With a hint of emotion in his voice, a touch of longing, Yoongi shares, “I’ve already found our inaugural customer.” Intrigued, you turn to face him, your eyes prompting him to reveal more about this exciting news.

With a weighted voice, laden with deep emotions, Yoongi reveals, “There’s a guy not far from us. He’s taken an interest in Holly.” Your gasp resonates with the dread that settles in—oh no, not Holly.

“But isn’t she yours to keep?” you ask, a tinge of sadness reflected in your eyes. Expectations of Yoongi keeping Holly for himself, the first horse you both worked on, echo in your question. The bond he shares with her seems uniquely special, so why part with her?

“I truly adore her, but she’s just a horse. And this is business,” he sighs, his voice carrying the weight of the decision as he gazes at the sunset. A lump forms in your throat, and tears well in your eyes. The thought of selling Mikrokosmos, your horse, feels almost impossible. She’s not just a business asset; she’s a part of you, and the idea of parting with her is heart-wrenching.

“Well, I hope she’ll love her new home,” you say with a bittersweet smile, gently shoving him playfully on the shoulder. The mixture of emotions swirls between you two, acknowledging the business aspect while secretly hoping Holly finds as much happiness in her new home as you both found in each other’s company.

“I hope so too,” he murmurs, his lips pressed into a tight line. The deep affection he holds for the horse is evident, and you sense the internal struggle he’s facing. This decision weighs on him, and you find yourself sharing in the silent understanding of the emotional complexity tied to their parting.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting hues of warm orange and pink across the sky, you remain on the hilltop, sharing the tranquil moment with your horses grazing beside you. In the company of Yoongi, your best friend, you reflect on the genuine bond that has grown between you. His presence is a comforting constant, a reliable listener, and a confidant you deeply appreciate.

In a moment of vulnerability, you confess, “You know... I’ve never really felt at home anywhere since I left the ranch.” The weight of emotions settles over you, and tears threaten to escape. 

Sensing your need for comfort, Yoongi turns to you, wrapping you in a gentle hug that speaks volumes without uttering a single word.

Amid the hues of the setting sun, Yoongi poses a poignant question, his voice laden with a mix of emotion and weariness. “Do you feel at home now?” he asks, and a soft chuckle escapes your lips, a response teeming with a complex blend of gratitude, uncertainty, and the subtle realization that ’home’ might be more than a physical place.

“I actually do.”

Words tumble from your lips as you gaze over the ranch from the hilltop, the golden glow of the sun casting a warm aura. “I never thought I would feel at home again. But this place has a way of working its magic on everything,” you confess, a testament to the transformative power your surroundings have woven into the fabric of your heart.

His smile echoes the sentiment, and he envelops you in a tight hug, as if the embrace itself is a testament to the enchantment this place has cast upon your lives. 

“That it sure does,” he murmurs, a shared acknowledgment of the profound connection you both feel to the land beneath your feet.

In the vast expanse of uncertainties, you shudder at the mere thought of navigating through the challenges without Yoongi by your side, a reliable anchor in the unpredictable sea of life. The gratitude for his friendship lingers in your heart, a sentiment too profound to be expressed in mere words.

“Will you come over tomorrow? The guy that wants to buy Holly will come and pick her up in the morning…” You discern the unspoken plea in his eyes, and with a tender smile, you draw closer, seeking solace in the warmth of his presence.

“Of course I’ll be there, Yoon.”

After the sun’s final bow, Yoongi rides back to the Park ranch, and you descend the hill towards your home. The term ’home’ once felt foreign, but now it wraps around you like a familiar embrace, an unwavering truth – your refuge, always and forever.

The next day, fueled by a hasty breakfast, you dash to the stables, the eager anticipation of your visit to Bell Ranch propelling you forward. Your task at hand: preparing Marshmallow for the journey ahead.

In the quiet embrace of the barn, you exchange a warm greeting with Marshmallow, ushering him into the center of the space. There, you deftly equip him with a saddle and bridle. As you guide him outside, the crisp morning air envelops you, and the gentle caress of the early sun bestows warmth upon your skin. A deep inhale fills your lungs, and with a graceful exhale, you mount Marshmallow. With a subtle nudge, you prompt him into a rhythmic gallop, traversing the lush expanse of green that unfolds before you.

The journey feels fleeting, far too brief for the solace it provides. Arriving at the stables, you swiftly dismount and tenderly remove Marshmallow’s tack. Leading him to one of the paddocks, you release him to the embrace of the open space, allowing him a well-deserved respite while you prepare to work with Yoongi.

You make your way to the pen, where Yoongi bids farewell to Holly. His arms envelop the brown mare’s neck in a tight embrace, soft pats accentuating the silent conversation between man and horse. Tears trace a path down his cheeks, and unexpectedly, you find your own emotions stirred, empathizing with the bittersweet parting, even though Holly isn’t your horse.

You acknowledge him with a quiet nod, hesitant to disrupt the tender moment between him and Holly. Leaning against the fence, you observe the heartfelt exchange. Holly emits a deep, resonant whinny, and for a fleeting moment, it feels as though she comprehends the impending separation.

As the sound of a truck pulling a trailer draws near behind you, the realization dawns—it’s time. Yoongi lifts his head from its resting place on Holly’s neck, offering her a final, affectionate pat before reluctantly stepping away.

With a heavy heart, Yoongi guides Holly towards the waiting trailer in the yard. The man has preemptively opened the trailer door, and as Holly steps inside, Yoongi closes the latch with a palpable reluctance. Standing on the sidelines, you observe the exchange—the man handing Yoongi some money, their handshake resonating with unspoken emotions. As the man returns to his car and drives away, Yoongi walks over to you, a profound sadness etched on his face.

“It’s okay,” you offer a comforting reassurance to Yoongi, wrapping him in a gentle hug.

He shares a bittersweet acknowledgment, a tinge of sadness coloring his smile, as both of you reluctantly shift your focus away from the departing car.

“Do you want to work on Mikrokosmos? I feel like I need something to do to keep my mind off Holly,” his request hangs in the air, laced with a subtle vulnerability as he looks at you with a sheepish smile. A shared understanding passes between you, and you nod in agreement, both silently making your way toward the stables, seeking solace in the comforting routine of working with Mikrokosmos.

With a confident stride, you retrieve Mikrokosmos from her stall, guiding her down to the pen without the need for a rope or halter. Yoongi walks beside you, a wistful smile playing on his lips.

Swinging the gate wide, you usher Mikrokosmos into the pen, her graceful steps echoing within the enclosure. Yoongi assumes his customary perch atop the fence, his observant eyes tracking the movements of the spirited mare.

Allowing Mikrokosmos to explore your scent, you initiate a tactile connection by stroking her forehead, tracing the path down her elegant neck, and along the sinewy contours of her shoulders. As your hands ascend to her back, you apply a gentle yet firm pressure, echoing the techniques you observed from Yoongi weeks ago, establishing a silent rapport with the magnificent mare.

Feeling the mare’s ease under your touch, you gradually increase the pressure, traversing her back with a comforting rhythm. When your eyes seek Yoongi’s for guidance, a silent understanding passes between you. Without a spoken word, he reads your unspoken query. “She’s ready,” he asserts with unwavering confidence, his voice a testament to the bond you’re building with Mikrokosmos.

Emboldened by Mikrokosmos’ serene response to your touch, you decide to take a daring leap, mimicking Yoongi’s approach with Holly. With a sense of excitement and trepidation, you pull yourself up onto her back. To your delight, she remains unfazed, allowing you to settle in, planting your bum securely on her back. It’s a moment of triumph, a testament to the trust building between you and the spirited mare.

In a breathless moment, Mikrokosmos stands still, and then, breaking the silence, she releases a soft whinny. Your heart swells with a mix of wonder and joy. As you pat her neck, a gentle coaxing with the press of your legs encourages her to move. Together, you embark on a slow journey around the pen, a newfound connection unfolding beneath you. From atop the fence, Yoongi grins widely, witnessing the magical communion between rider and horse.

A surge of pride and accomplishment courses through you. It’s a defining moment, a testament to the progress made. Confidence radiates from your every move as you navigate the pen on horseback, a triumphant smile adorning your face.

As a sudden pressure builds in your bladder, frustration wells up internally. Of all the moments, it has to be now. Succumbing to the inevitable, you voice your discomfort, “I need to use the restroom. Can you look after Mikrokosmos until I return?”

Yoongi acknowledges with a nod, and you smoothly descend Mikrokosmos’ body, grounding your feet in the sand. With a burst of energy, you vault over the fence, sprinting all the way up to the main house.

You forgo the courtesy of knocking, opting to swing the door wide open as you make a beeline for the bathroom.

As your fingers extend toward the door handle, it unexpectedly swings open, catching you off guard and sending a jolt of surprise through you.

As the door swings open, you’re met with the unexpected sight Deiji, draped only in a towel. Her damp hair and glistening skin hint at a recent shower, and the small droplets of water sparkle in the light. A startled shriek escapes her lips as her gaze locks with your equally surprised and wide eyes.

Panicking, you blurt out, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Your words stumble over each other as the sound of approaching footsteps from upstairs adds to the awkward tension in the air.

Down the stairs descends Jimin, clad in nothing but a pair of snug grey joggers, his feet bare, hair wet, and your jaw practically hits the floor.

“What’s the matter, babe?” He queries, running a hand through his damp hair. His eyes find your startled form, and he instantly eases into a more relaxed demeanor.

You’re caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Your heartbeat skyrockets, and you’re torn between the urge to look away and the magnetic pull keeping your gaze fixed on Jimin. Every contour of his physique, from well-defined pectorals to a happy trail of natural brown hairs leading down to his crotch, leaves you both captivated and flustered. He is everything you imagined and more. 

A sudden wave of heat engulfs the room, making you feel as if you’re suffocating. You become acutely aware that you might have been staring for too long, as both Jimin and Deiji shoot you concerned glances, their eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin inquires, casually flexing his abdominals with a smirk playing on his lips. It’s a dirty move, and he knows it. Why does he have to look so devilishly good, practically flaunting something you can’t have? It’s not fair—Park Jimin is a temptation, and you can’t help but feel he might be your downfall.

As realization dawns, you suddenly recall the purpose of your intrusion. “I have to pee,” you blurt out, a mixture of embarrassment and urgency in your tone.

Amused laughter fills the room, and Deiji graciously clears some space, saying, “You can use it; I’m done anyway.”

Nodding, you flash her a grateful smile, a strange mix of nerves and curiosity swirling within you. As you pass her, a trail of her sweet floral scent lingers, enveloping you. Just before slipping into the bathroom, you steal a glance at Jimin. His face wears a smirk you can’t decipher. 

Suddenly, it dawns on you - this is the first time he has spoken to you in weeks.

Basking in the midday sun, a gentle breeze toys with your hair, allowing its tender touch to dance across your neck as you gallop through the undulating hills astride Marshmallow.

Thundering across these expansive landscapes, a spirited gallop grants temporary solace to your heart, momentarily eclipsing the tumult within. Damn Park Jimin and his angelic and devilish looking face. The ache intensifies witnessing him with his infuriatingly perfect girlfriend; a pain that lingers, leaving you uncertain if you’ll ever get over him.

Granting Marshmallow unrestrained freedom, you traverse diverse landscapes—dense forests, the serene lake, and finally, the ranch’s Eastern expanse. Yet, an unsettling discord interrupts the tranquility, an eerie cry that echoes of an animal’s distress. Tensing the reins, you guide Marshmallow toward the source of the ominous noise.

Arriving at the scene, your eyes widen at the sight of a cow standing in the paddock, its posture awkward, and a pair of feet protruding from its laboring form. A gasp escapes you as the realization dawns – the cow is giving birth.

Dismounting from Marshmallow, urgency propels you toward the struggling cow. The rhythmic movement of the legs suggests the birthing process, something doesn’t seem right and you don’t know what to do. In a quick reflex, you pull out your phone, dialing the only person you know what to do.

The ringtone echoes anxiously, each second an eternity as you plead silently for the familiar voice to answer. The urgency in your chest intensifies with each passing ring. Please, just pick up, dammit!

Relief floods over you as Namjoon’s voice resonates through the phone, a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. “This is Namjoon,” he declares, and in that instant, it’s as if the universe aligns to bring order to the chaos around you.

“Thank god! Can you come and help? There’s a cow giving birth in the Eastern paddock, and it sounds like she’s in distress!” Your urgent plea pierces through the phone, echoing the distress emanating from the laboring cow.

“You know these animals can handle calving by themselves, right?” He chuckles on the line, and you roll your eyes, dismissing the notion with a hint of impatience. There’s no time for a history lesson; immediate action is what you need.

“The baby cow’s legs are moving back and forth—is that normal?” Your voice carries a hint of sternness, convinced that this situation isn’t within the realms of normalcy. Silence greets you on the other end, and for a brief moment, you fear he might have hung up.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible!” His voice, once calm, now carries a sense of urgency and stress, and in that moment, you grasp the gravity of the situation.

“Try to see if you can pull the calf’s legs out until I arrive, okay?” His urgent plea echoes in your ears, mingling with the distant sound of a car door opening and closing on the line, signaling hope that he’s racing to your aid.

“Pull its legs out?” Your frantic voice echoes into the void as the call disconnects. A heavy sigh escapes you as you gaze at the distressed cow. Uncertainty clings to you like a shadow; you’re torn between the fear of causing harm and the weight of Namjoon’s expertise urging you to act. He’s the vet, after all, and if he says it’s the necessary step, you steel yourself for what needs to be done.

Rolling your sleeves up, you step forward, determined to help the distressed cow. Your hand rests gently on its back, employing the same calming touch you would use with a wild horse. Slowly, your hand traverses down its body to its hindquarters where the legs protrude awkwardly. With a careful grip, you attempt to pull, but to no avail. It becomes apparent that the helpless calf is firmly lodged inside, presenting a daunting challenge.

Beads of sweat mingle with the dust on your brow, the relentless struggle to free the trapped calf becomes a desperate dance. The distant hum of an approaching engine brings a surge of hope, and relief washes over you as Namjoon’s truck roars to a halt behind you. Oh thank god!

With a swift, purposeful stride, Namjoon emerges from his truck, the familiar cadence of urgency echoing in each step. In his firm grip, the vet bag swings like a lifeline as he hastens toward you and the distressed cow.

Apologies linger in Namjoon’s voice as he swiftly dons a pair of absurdly long, cerulean gloves from his well-stocked bag. His keen eyes scan the scene, assessing the situation as he poses a question that cuts through the tense air, “It’s still not out?”

Retreating to give Namjoon the space he needs, you watch in awe as he envelops the tiny legs with his gloved hands, channeling the strength of his entire body into each determined pull.

“It normally doesn’t take this long to birth a calf…” sweat beads on Namjoon’s forehead as he exerts more effort, a hint of concern in his voice. With a final determined tug, the calf emerges, first the legs, then the head and the rest of its body. Namjoon carefully lowers it to the ground, leaving the newborn covered in a mixture of slime and blood.

Namjoon discards his gloves into a wash bag, his eyes shifting from the exhausted cow to the newborn calf finding its bearings on the grass. “Calling me was the right move; it didn’t appear the cow could manage to push the calf out on her own,” he remarks, a touch of relief in his voice.

Gratitude fills your words as you express, “Thanks for rushing over and handling everything – I mean, doing the heavy lifting for me.” A soft chuckle escapes your lips, acknowledging the reality that pulling out a calf was far beyond your strength.

“No problem,” his response is accompanied by a warm, bright smile, radiating reassurance. As he stows away his bag in the truck, he turns to you, locking eyes with you.

“How’s Jessi doing?” His question comes with a warm smile, yet beneath it, a subtle dance of curiosity and nervousness in his browline. A soft chuckle escapes you as you contemplate the enduring care he holds for Jessi, even after the end of their relationship. It’s nice that they are able to stay friends and still care for each other like this.

Your smile mirrors his, genuine and bright. “She’s holding up well, still bossing everyone around. Though she’s confined to crutches for now, the silver lining is that the casts are scheduled to come off in just a few days.”

His smile widens, and he nods appreciatively. “Well, that’s a relief to hear.”

You chuckle again, the sound echoing in the air. Namjoon, a genuinely good guy, radiates warmth, and it’s a bittersweet realization that things didn’t work out between him and your sister. Deep down, you silently wish him a future where he finds someone who can fulfill the desires that shimmer in his eyes – a quest you sense he’s earnestly pursuing.

“I’ll get going then. Everybody needs my help today.” He chuckles, his robust frame resonating with the warmth of his laughter, and Namjoon announces his departure. Acknowledging his unwavering commitment to helping others, you nod in farewell, watching as he steps into his truck and drives away.

You return to Marshmallow, your hand gently caressing his neck in appreciation before seamlessly mounting him. With a swift swing of your leg over the saddle, you guide him on the journey back home.

“Why are we subjecting ourselves to this culinary chaos again?” you groan, placing yet another dish onto the grand table in your dining room, glancing at Jessi for an answer.

Jessi gracefully moves around the table, lending a hand in setting up while ensuring everything is perfectly in place. “It’s all in celebration of liberation from the cast!” She jubilantly shakes her once-encased arm and leg, now liberated. You can’t help but roll your eyes; your sister’s idea of a celebration might be a bit eccentric, but it’s her party after all.

In the bustling kitchen, Ha-rin and Ara work tirelessly to craft an array of delectable dishes, infusing the house with a symphony of tantalizing aromas. Meanwhile, you, Jessi, and Soo-ah engage in a meticulous dance, setting the table with precision and placing each carefully prepared dish, allowing wisps of steam to rise and tantalize the senses.

As the feast approaches, your sister has extended invitations far and wide, and that inevitably includes Jimin and his girlfriend. The mere thought of encountering him again prompts a preemptive groan, and you find yourself yearning for a way to evade the impending interaction. Alas, with him being your neighbor and frequent collaborator on ranch-related endeavors, avoiding him proves to be a challenging feat. You scuff at the predicament, silently longing for a different reality.

With an audible clunk, you assertively place the plates on the table, the reverberation echoing the intensity of your emotions.

“Easy there!” Your sister scolds, her tone a playful warning, as she delicately places the glasses in front of the plates.

You chuckle, a lightness returning to your mood, and set the plates down with a flourish before heading into the kitchen to collect the utensils.

Anticipation gnaws at you as you set the table, a desire to get through this dinner quickly, fueled by the looming presence of Jimin. His silence has become a heavy weight, and ever since that unexpected glimpse of him almost naked, unwanted thoughts and vivid images intrude your mind. You scold yourself, reminding that he isn’t yours to entertain such thoughts about. It’s not fair to him or Deiji, and you need to push these images aside.

As you mope around the dining room, preparing for the gathering, the atmosphere shifts with the arrival of guests. Jungkook bursts in, enveloping your sister in a warm embrace before turning his attention to you. His hug is almost too tight, prompting a small squeak to escape your lips, and he responds with hearty laughter that fills the room.

As Jimin and Deiji make their entrance, you acknowledge them with a subtle nod, instinctively creating a bit of space between you. The air seems to tighten with unresolved tension, and you navigate the space carefully, aware that every step brings you closer to a rendezvous with emotions you’d rather keep at bay.

Hoseok strides into the room, with Yoongi next to him, he’s the first to envelop you in a warm embrace, a radiant smile on his face. He peppers you with questions about how you’ve been, and with a reassuring nod, you assure him that everything’s going well. Then, seamlessly, Yoongi joins in, encircling you with his arms, a reassuring and tight embrace that momentarily eases the complexities lingering in the air.

“Missed you,” he chuckles, his arms refusing to release you as you playfully roll your eyes. Amidst the friendly banter, you can’t help but notice Jimin’s intense gaze fixed on you. His eyes darken, and the once bright smile on his face transforms into a subtle frown, leaving you with a sense of unease.

Your heart sinks, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. Does Jimin not know that Yoongi is gay, and that his kiss was merely his attempt at figuring out his sexuality? It occurs to you that he probably doesn’t. After all, Yoongi hasn’t openly shared his sexual orientation, and you’ve kept it confidential as well. The pieces start falling into place, and you comprehend the anger simmering in Jimin’s eyes. If he assumes that you and Yoongi are a couple, it would explain the tension and frustration etched on his face.

How do you convey to Jimin that your relationship with Yoongi is nothing more than a deep, platonic friendship, without revealing Yoongi’s sexual orientation?

And in the grand scheme of things, does any of this even hold weight now? With him having a girlfriend, laying the truth bare seems futile. Why would confessing change a thing? He’s maintained radio silence for months, a streak of silence that shows no signs of breaking, so why break it now?

Yoongi releases you, and you respond with a playful slap on his shoulder. As he steps back, falling in line behind Hoseok, you can’t help but catch the subtle way his gaze traces Hoseok’s figure.

As you glance over, you spot Namjoon and Seokjin in the hallway, each holding a bottle of wine. A smile plays on your lips as they make their way toward you, meticulously placing the bottles on the table before joining in the gathering.

Namjoon envelops you in a warm, tight hug, his curious voice breaking through the buzz of the room. 

“How’s that calf doing?” he inquires, while Seokjin raises an intrigued eyebrow at him.

Gratitude warms your voice as you assure Namjoon, “He’s doing fine with his mother and the rest of the herd. Thank you so much for helping.” A warm smile accompanies your words, and you motion for them to take a seat.

“That’s great,” he remarks, pulling out a chair and settling in beside Seokjin.

Ha-rin and Ara make their entrance into the dining room, their foreheads glistening with the sweat earned from their hard work in the kitchen.

You take your seat beside Yoongi and Soo-ah, casting a glance across the table where Jimin and Deiji have settled. Jessi and Jungkook, positioned next to each other, are engaged in a playful banter that echoes the dynamics of a married couple, the subject revolving around trucks and bikes. Despite your eye roll at their antics, a sweet smile tugs at your lips, warming your heart with the familiarity of their friendship.

Ha-rin’s exhausted yet earnest voice scolds gently, pointing with pride at the array of delectable dishes that have emerged from the depths of her labor in the kitchen throughout the day. “Please, eat your heart out. I’ve practically lived in that kitchen to create this feast,” she urges, her eyes reflecting the passion poured into every culinary creation with the assistance of Ara.

Expressions of gratitude fill the air as your entire group starts delving into the carefully crafted dishes before you. The aroma is irresistible, and your anticipation intensifies as you eagerly anticipate the first savory bite, your hungry stomach protesting its emptiness.

Savoring the heartiness of the meal, you indulge in a bit of everything, each mouthful a symphony of delectable flavors. A wave of gratitude washes over you for having Ha-rin on the ranch, as her culinary skills elevate the dining experience, compensating for your own culinary shortcomings.

Seokjin, caught in the rapture of each bite, pauses to express his culinary admiration. His eyes gleam with appreciation as he licks his lips, savoring the flavors. “Ha-rin, this is truly incredible. Would you mind sharing the recipe later? I don’t want to miss out on a single secret behind this delightful feast.”

Ha-rin’s laughter, a melodic accompaniment to the clinking of cutlery, fills the room. A subtle blush tints her cheeks, and a bashful yet confident smile reveals her teeth. “Thank you,” she responds graciously, “I can send you the recipe later, no problem.”

You can’t help but chuckle, observing her graceful gesture of tucking a strand of short, black hair behind her ear. Her eyes, adorned with a spark of admiration, linger on Seokjin as he savors every bite.

As you glance around the table, a warmth spreads through you, witnessing everyone relishing the moment. Namjoon gracefully pours wine for those seeking a more refined sip, while others opt for the familiar companionship of beer or the simple refreshment of water.

You relish a small glass of red, a rare indulgence that harmonizes beautifully with the culinary symphony on your plate, you’re about to shift your attention back to the feast when you feel the weight of Jimin’s gaze. His eyes pierce through the air, intense and fervent, as though etching a connection with the depths of your soul.

A nervous gulp courses through you, a fleeting warmth that fans the flames of self-consciousness. Your throat tightens imperceptibly, a subtle reminder of the unspoken tension in the air. Summoning courage, you lock eyes with Jimin, your gaze unwavering. The question lingers in the charged atmosphere – why is he studying you with such intensity?

Deiji’s laughter echoes, a stark contrast to the storm brewing in Jimin’s eyes. With narrowed gaze, you shoot back a piercing stare, mirroring the frustration and pain you’ve bottled up. Unnoticed, your fingers tighten around the utensils, and red begins to flare behind your eyelids.

“Calm down,” as frustration tightens your grip on the utensils, Yoongi’s calming whisper in your ear nudges you back from the edge. With an exasperated huff, you release your clenched hands. Jimin’s persistent gaze lingers, a puzzle you can’t decipher. Annoyed, you shoot him a furrowed frown, determined to focus on your meal. If he has something to say, he can use words instead of cryptic glances. You refuse to grant him more of your time without a proper conversation.

You practically spear the defenseless food on your plate, the residual anger simmering within. Beside you, Yoongi chuckles, a sound that offers a glimmer of solace. In the midst of your inner turmoil, it’s a relief to know someone can find enjoyment in this tense dinner.

Throughout the remainder of the dinner, laughter dances in the air alongside light-hearted conversations, a melody you struggle to fully engage with. Purposefully steering clear of Jimin, you catch his occasional glances in your direction, each one like an unspoken question lingering in the room.

As the final bites are savored and the dinner concludes, a collective effort ensues to tidy up the remnants of the feast. While some bid their goodbyes and disappear into the night, a handful remain, drawn to the allure of the terrace to indulge in leisurely drinks before ending the day’s festivities.

Soo-ah, Ara, Ha-rin, Yoongi, and Hoseok gravitate towards the terrace, creating a lively ensemble beneath the canvas of a sky painted with the remnants of a sunset that bid its farewell just hours ago. The air, now a gentle embrace, cradles the warmth of the departed sun, fostering an ambiance ripe for drinks and smalltalk.

You cradle the red wine in your hands, the rich hue mirroring the depth of your thoughts. It’s only your second glass, but who’s keeping track anyway?

You exhale with a profound sigh, sinking back into the chair, as if the weight of the day is lifting off your shoulders in that single breath.

Hoseok gazes at you, concern etched across his face. “What’s eating at you?”

You let out a frustrated groan, a desire to yank at your own hair bubbling beneath the surface. Uncertain about revealing the source of your vexation, you debate whether to open up about what’s truly bothering you. Given that your friends are well aware of your feelings for Jimin, it’s not as if you’d be sharing some profound secret.

“I’m just tired of Jimin,” you confess with a deep exhale, absentmindedly twirling the wine glass in your fingers, the crystal capturing the soft glow of the terrace lights.

Yoongi chuckles knowingly; he’s been a willing listener to your rants and frustrations about Jimin countless times. The girls exchange sympathetic glances, silently urging you to share more of your feelings.

“It’s frustrating, really. He hasn’t spoken a word to me since that awkward encounter when I met him and Deiji coming fresh out of the shower. The only thing he did say was to question why I was there. And now, he keeps looking at me with this strange intensity and weird look and I just can’t figure out what’s going on in his head,” you confess, letting out a heavy sigh.

Hoseok bursts into laughter, breaking the tension with his infectious humor, “Maybe he wants a threesome?” Your eyes roll at his playful comment, appreciating how he effortlessly lightens the mood, a skill he seems to master whenever things get awkward.

“I’m sure he doesn’t. Not that I’m interested!” Laughter ripples through the group, a collective release of tension that eases the weight on your shoulders.

“Maybe he just wants to talk then?” Hoseok suggests, his eyes holding a glimmer of hope beneath the terrace’s soft glow.

“If he wants to talk to me, he should just do it instead of giving me those fucking angry eyes,” you scoff, the frustration and deflation evident in your voice.

“I’m just so angry!” you declare, your body tensing with each word before finally releasing the built-up tension.

“We get it,” Soo-ah remarks, her voice understanding and sympathetic.

“Love is hard,” she adds with a touch of melancholy, her gaze lingering on Hoseok. You know that she likes him, but you don’t know if Hoseok feels the same for her. 

You let out a bitter, angry chuckle, the sound escaping from deep within as a manifestation of the frustration and tension bubbling inside you.

“By the way, does his girlfriend look familiar to any of you?” you inquire, turning to face them, only to be met with a chorus of laughter. Their unexpected reaction leaves you bewildered and searching for answers.

Ara quirks an eyebrow, suppressing a smile behind her delicate hand, and gently teases, “You haven’t realized yet?”

You shake your head. Realized what?

“She looks like you.” Ha-rin’s revelation is like a sudden thunderclap in the midst of a quiet storm, her words hanging in the air with a weight that sends a shiver down your spine. 

She looks like you? 

Every fiber of your being comes alive, reigniting the small fire you had extinguished for Jimin. The embers, once dormant, now glow and dance, casting an unexpected warmth that spreads through the chambers of your heart. The uncanny resemblance between you and Jimin’s girlfriend becomes a flickering flame, illuminating the shadows of your emotions and casting doubt on the carefully constructed walls you’ve built around your feelings.

Could this mean what you think it does?

Fuck.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →