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nevadancitizen · 4 months

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do you think you could write something where könig and/or ghost (separate) were nearby or watched reader try to participate in a conversation but constantly got ignored or talked over to the point where they just kinda go silent and walk away? they end up comforting the reader and just trying to be a shoulder to cry on while they talk about their frustrations because this is something that always happens to them <\3

it doesn’t have to be too long and you don’t have to worry about getting to this request too quickly!! thank u for reading anyways :3

-> THE SOCIAL WEAK LINK

synopsis: rookies and debriefings are pains in both you and ghost's asses. rich people fail the turing test while interacting with you and könig.

word count: 2.2k (~1.1k each)

characters: ghost, könig, awkward! reader (lol)

notes: (rings dinner bell) hey friend.. this req has been sitting since september.. im so sorry (ಥ﹏ಥ)

-> GHOST:

Debriefings were always boring. Everyone was tired, sweaty, and just wanted a cold shower and a warm bed. But what else encompasses the military so eloquently except unnecessary misery?

And to add to the misery, some rookies had tagged along to the mission. “On-the-job training,” Price had prattled off as he read the mission statement. He had given you and the rest of the 141 an exaggerated look that screamed If these rookies compromise the mission I’m going to tear the Lieutenant Colonel a new one.

The rookies (with callsigns Quest and Cable) were nice enough. They weren’t given the opportunity to burn off their energy on the mission like the 141 – they’d stayed behind as backup while the 141 went in to deal with the bad guys. As a consequence, now they’re in the debriefing room, chattering away like parrots.

Ghost could fall asleep in the chair he was in, if Cable and Quest were a little quieter. He looks at the next spinny chair over, where you’re sitting. You’ve got your knees tucked to your chin and are silently tracing the patterns in the wood table with a fingernail. Every now and again, you glance at the rookies, but ultimately turn your eyes away.

You were always just a bit too awkward to fit in with the rest of the military. Either too quiet or too loud; you rambled too often and your voice cracked when you did. You slipped through the cracks, into the quiet background with Laswell and Shepherd. You’re one of the powerful hands that move the pieces on the chessboard, but not a well-recognized one. Well-recognized within the 141, yes, but not on a wider scale.

Ghost can tell how you’re feeling by the obvious emotion on your face. It’s yearning – an emotion Ghost knows well.

His eyes sweep the rest of the table. Gaz is fucking around on his phone, probably making a new Pinterest board, while Soap leans over his shoulder and watches him. Price is in another room, talking to someone important. Ghost couldn’t really bring himself to care about who.

The entire room is bogged down with an unmistakable tiredness that goes right over Quest and Cable’s heads. Really, the only sound in the room is their voices and, intermittently, yours as you try to inject yourself into their conversation. Each attempt is met with pursed lips that barely count as smiles and something along the lines of “Yeah. Anyway…”

Eventually, Price pops in, leaning his head on the doorframe. The brim of his hat crinkles and his nose wrinkles up in disdain. He sighs. “Everyone out. Lieutenant Colonel wants this meeting room for herself. We’ll debrief later.”

Quest and Cable pop up like excited teenagers and head for the door, continuing to talk. “I’m soooo goddamn hungry. Hopefully the mess hall has something good…”

“Hey!” You practically jump from your chair, your eyes on the rookies. “Um, I heard that they just restocked the vending machines? Do you wanna maybe chick – I mean, check – them out with me? They’re just down the hall.”

They both tense, and Quest looks over their shoulder. They smile awkwardly and exchange a look with Cable. “Uh… maybe another time?”

You visibly deflate and rock back on your heels. “Yeah, totally. See you later.”

They both nod tersely and exit. You take a deep breath and let out a long sigh. You sit back in the spinny chair and it wheels backwards from the force.

Gaz shuts his phone off and groans while Soap sucks air through his teeth.

“Not your best effort,” Gaz says.

“I know,” you say.

“Maybe you’re not just compatible with rookies?” Soap tries.

You roll your head back against the back of the chair and stare at the ceiling. “I know.”

You sink further into the chair, then stand. “Whatever. Let’s clear out. Price will have our heads if we don’t.”

Ghost tails you out the door. You don’t acknowledge him, but you know he’s there (even if his footsteps are extraordinarily light for a man of his stature).

“Pompous pricks, ay?” Ghost says.

You stick your hands in your pockets, hiking your shoulders up by your ears. “Wish they were a little more personable. Wish I was a little more personable.”

“Why, you’re plenty personable.” Ghost laughs gruffly at his own joke as he nudges your shoulder with his.

“Asking to go ‘chick out’ the vending machines is a personable interaction?” You relax your arms and knock your elbow against Ghost’s.

“I thought it was funny,” Ghost says. “Even if it was just a slip-up.”

You sigh, but keep up with Ghost as he walks. “If it was funny, then why didn’t they laugh?”

Ghost thinks for a second. “Maybe they just don’t have a sense of humor?”

“You don’t have a sense of humor,” you jab.

Ghost scoffs. “Of course I do.”

“Then make me laugh,” you say. “Make me laugh right now.”

Ghost breathes in and exhales slowly through the fabric of his mask. “Well… do you know why the Cold War was called the Cold War?”

“The supernations fought using proxy wars,” you say. “America and the USSR never really went head-to-head.”

Ghost sighs pointedly. “Yes,” he says, “but also because of the icy-BMs.”

“The what?”

“The Cold War?” Ghost repeats. “Icy?”

“ICBM stands for Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles.” You stop midstep, looking at Ghost with a disbelieving smile. “Ghost, don’t tell me you don’t know what ICBM stands for?”

“No, it –” Ghost sighs. “Icy sounds like IC? Icy-BMs?”

You burst out laughing, waving Ghost away like he was some form of stupid. “Ghost, seriously? You don’t – oh my God!”

“I’m not a fucking knob, I know what…”

Ghost can’t bring himself to correct you as he watches you laugh like that. It’s a bit too loud and there’s a snort in there somewhere, but it rings true and warms Ghost’s heart. He doesn’t mind being seen as dumb for a minute if you’re able to warm his heart with a sound as nice as that.

-> KöNIG:

König nearly always hates going undercover.

More often than not, the higher-ups stick him in some ill-tailored enemy armor and send him in with nothing but a less-than-encouraging slap on the ass. They know he’ll make it out alive.

On this mission, he feels a little more comfortable. It’s more than obvious you’re not.

You and König are camped out on the edge of a ballroom, sitting together at a small table. You’re dressed in a fancy outfit that just screams decadence, and it fits your role well – the adult child of some rich, cigar-chomping tech baron. König is playing the role of your bodyguard, dressed down from his usual military garb in a plain black suit (with kevlar padding) and a balaclava.

You cross one leg over the other at the knee and look down at your flute of champagne as you swirl it. The bubbles rise to the surface and pop as the pale liquid settles.

“I hate this,” you say under your breath, just loud enough for König to hear.

He nods along, but straightens up when a small group of people approach the table. There’s an older woman, a middle-aged man, and a girl, maybe fifteen.

“Hi, sweetheart!” An older woman croons at you. “You’re Bohumil Silvester’s youngest, right?”

“Oh!” You sit up straighter and put the champagne flute on the table. “Yes, I am. And, um – and who might you be?”

“I’m Laila Matthews.” Laila checks over her shoulder at the people accompanying her. “This is my daughter, Adine, and this is my husband, Keaton.”

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You smile politely, but König can scope out of the corner of his eye that you’re gripping a bit of the fabric of your too-fancy outfit like you’re meaning to rip it off. You spout your fake name to Laila with a cheeky “But you know that already, right, ma’am?”

Laila is utterly delighted with your carefully constructed persona. She throws her head back and laughs, one hand on her chest and the other finding Keaton’s shoulder. “Oh, Lord. Aren’t you just your father’s child?”

You nod and, once again, smile politely while exchanging side-eye glances with König. He’s just as confused as you are.

As soon as Laila recovers, she’s talking again. She gestures vaguely in König’s direction. “And who is this? Security, for this casual meeting?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” you say. “You can never be too careful these days, with all the laws about concealed carry and everything.”

“Well, I’m 57, and I’ve only had security for a few occasions,” Laila says.

“You’re 57?” You bark, a little too loud. You can feel a few heads turn your way and Laila’s stare turns withering. König’s shoulders shake as he coughs into his fist.

“I mean, um, you’re 57?” You try again, quieter. “Because you don’t look it. Like, at all. Ma’am.”

Laila’s tone is flat when she speaks. “Right.”

“I meant, um, you look younger? Uh, anyway.” You smile nervously, then pick up your champagne flute and take a sip. “I love your family’s outfits! And the, uh, the way they match.”

Keaton leans in and grabs a hold of Laila’s shoulder. He gets up on his toes to whisper something in Laila’s ear. It’s hard to hear over the ambient noise of the ballroom. Laila nods and Keaton continues to whisper.

“Um, Laila? Mrs. Matthews?” You try to get her attention, to no avail. She keeps nodding to Keaton’s words like you’re not even there.

You stand and turn to Adine. “Adine, right? Tell your mother it was nice speaking to her.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Adine nods absently, her eyes somewhere else on the ballroom floor.

You toss the rest of the champagne in the flute down like it’s a shot and stand from the table. You make eye contact with König and nod towards the French doors that lead towards the balcony.

People don’t notice as you and König step out. The sky is clear, yet the night is still young enough to be starless.

“Christ, I hate rich people,” you mutter under your breath.

König moves and leans his back against the wrought iron of the railing. His eyes sweep across the small area, then he nods. “Yes. That interaction was less than pleasant.”

You lean against the railing next to him. “Why was she even talking to me? And what did she mean, ‘Aren’t you just your father’s child?’ Like, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I am… not sure,” König says. “Maybe it’s part of rich people code?”

“Yeah, maybe.” You huff out a laugh, then sigh. “I really wasn’t the best pick for this mission.”

“What do you mean?” König asks. “You are perfectly capable of fighting.”

“No, the, like…” you sigh again. “The talking part? I’m not fit for that. Never been a good conversationalist, never will be.”

“You are conversing with me right now, no?” König gestures between you and him. “This is a conversation. You are doing fine.”

“Yes, but…” you trail off. “You saw me. I shouted her age out in front of everyone.”

König hums. “To be fair, it was a bit of a shock.”

You glance up at him and laugh, a pretty smile gracing your features. “Shut up.”

“But it was!” König insists. The fabric of his balaclava puffs out as he laughs. “I had to cough to cover up my laugh. I nearly had to excuse myself.”

“Yeah, sure.” You shove his shoulder half-heartedly as you turn and look out over the railing, at the courtyard. König follows your gaze.

The courtyard is illuminated by ambient lamps. Paths are laid with bricks, with neatly trimmed grass in between each one. Exotic plants from every corner of the globe line the pathways, some of their flowers closed for the night. A fountain is in the middle, with water spouting out of the trumpet of a cherub statue. A few people surround the fountain, talking quietly with drinks in their hands in the low light.

You lean close to König and point at one of the people – a man in a navy suit. “That’s the target. Mister T. Kilgore.”

“So he is,” König says. He pats under his armpit, checking his sidearm. “We need to get moving. I do not like the way Laila’s husband was talking to her. Suspicious.”

You nod and send König a small smile. “We’re still going with the plan, right? I’m going in and playing drunk?”

“Of course.” König mirrors your smile even though you can’t see it. “Besides, it’ll give you an opportunity to practice your conversation skills.”

You scoff, but you’re still smiling. “Yeah, if I’m planning on interacting with everybody as a drunk idiot for the rest of my life.”

“I’m serious!” König insists. “More likely than not, you’ll never see these people again.”

A beat of silence.

“You’re right.” You knock your elbow against König’s. “Let’s give them a show.”

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coconutbabydoll · 9 months

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⋆.ೃ࿔*:･- abby with a black gf hc’s

paring: abby anderson x fem!black!reader

warnings: smut if you squint, barely proofread, that’s it lol!!

summary: abby with black gf hc’s because i’m black and i feel like it.

a/n: obviously so rushed omg, if there are any grammar,punctuation, spelling mistakes let me know. inspired by whoever did this first but i lost their username!! likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated but not mandatory as always :)

ꕤ lovesss when you wear your hair in it’s natural afro, seriously she compliments you every chance she get.

ꕤ likes your hair when it’s straighten also, but likes your afro better.

ꕤ helps you on your wash day, it’s quicker when she does it because her hands are bigger and she’s so gentle with you.

ꕤ helps you clean up the bathroom too, this girl is very fastidious.

ꕤ always with you when you make a trip to the hair store, just following you around like a lost puppy.

ꕤ you could be looking for a mielle shampoo and oil and abby would pick up an cantu shampoo bottle and be like “baby what about this, it says cleansing cream.” she doesn’t get it but shes trying.

ꕤ no matter how much you beg her not too, she pays for everything you get at the hair store.

ꕤ get anxious every time you get braids because it takes soooo long and she wants to make sure your okay and safe. constantly checking your location while your getting your hair done.

ꕤ the first time you went to get some fulani braids in your relationship she thought you were cheating, she didn’t realize you would take so long. two hours in she kept sending you texts asking if you were okay, three hours in she facetime you until you were done.

ꕤ she get sooo horny when she doesn’t see you for hours, like right after you get home from your hair appointment she wants to have sex but you’re usually so tired and tell her after your nap.

ꕤ after you wake up she’s hitting it from the back she gets so into it and accidentally pulls your hair forgetting you just got it done. you’re obviously quite irritated because it hurts and she feels horrible, “i’m so sorry,baby” just spilling out of her mouth.

ꕤ she just makes you cum by eating you out instead.

ꕤ usually doesn’t pay for your hair but if you ask her too she won’t hesitate.

ꕤ loves your family cookouts/gatherings but your parents kinda of intimidate her, she so convinced they don’t like her but you reassure her every time that’s just their demeanor they act like that around everybody.

ꕤ obsessed with your family’s food, especially on thanksgiving. she gets almost everything on her plate. her favorites are greens, ham, macaroni, and stuffing.

ꕤ and of course the famous sweet potato pie, that you make every year.

ꕤ she always tells you to make her an second plate cause she doesn’t wanna seem greedy.

ꕤ “baby can you pleasssee go make me another plate, i don’t wanna them to think i’m greedy.”

ꕤ usually just sits in the foldable baseball chair in the corner while your chatting it up with everybody.

ꕤ only person she really talks to in your family is your granddad (aww), you always wonder what they are talking about and why she seems so engaged in the conversation.

biggest baby ever omg i need her so bad :(((

#abby anderson #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝓶𝓲𝓪 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮𝓼 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆#abby x you #abby headcanons #abby tlou #abby the last of us #support pls #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction

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juyeonszn · 7 months

Text

REFLECTIONS

PAIRING jacob bae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 2.07k

GENRES smut lol

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, fawn writing about jacob bae yet again but i swear this time was necessary!!!, porn without plot but also if u squint there’s a little bit of plot, roommates/best friends with mutual pining, i mixed so many tropes in here tbh, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (pls be safe), mirror sex, soft? dom!jacob, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY the two times jacob bae derails your saturday night plans.

MORE FAWNTOBER DAY 2 IS A GOOOOO 😈 i’m actually doing pretty well timing wise and as far as im concerned, i’ll actually pull this thing off 😭 anyways.. enjoy!! pls remember to reblog if u liked what u read! and stay tuned for the rest of the fics coming out this month <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble

If it were up to you, you would just stay home for the evening. You’d kick your feet up into the ottoman and put on a random movie, latched onto Jacob’s side like a little leech. You were lucky your roommate was just as much of a cuddler as you were. It’d be kind of awkward if he wasn’t.

Unfortunately, your Saturday night plans would have to be postponed.

“It’s gonna be fun, N/N, I promise,” he tries to convince you, hands clasped together. “Sangyeon even said he’d pay your tab.”

“But I’m tired, Cobie,” you pout, knowing full well that your puppy dog eyes would always be his weakness, even if he’d never admit it to himself. “I don’t wanna go out tonight.”

He must’ve really been looking forward to going out and meeting up with the guys if not even your guilt-tripping face worked on him. He goes off on a tangent about how you always stay in, and despite loving that to an extent, sometimes he wants to enjoy a night out. You were still confused as to why he didn’t just go by himself. Why did he have to bring you along with him?

It’s not like you were dating or anything. You were just roommates. Really close roommates. Roommates who cuddled every other night. Roommates who often found themselves sleeping in the other’s bed rather than their own. Roommates who were so undeniably attracted to each other but masked it by pretending they weren’t.

Couldn’t you have been sucked into a different trope?

“I just think you’re not giving the idea enough credit,” he raises his hands in surrender. “Besides, wouldn’t you feel left out? Wouldn’t you get major FOMO?”

You sigh. He had a point. Even if you didn’t really want to go clubbing, knowing all of your friends were there without you would make you sad. Imposter syndrome came way too easily for you. “Fine, I guess I’ll go.”

Jacob fist bumps the air, dragging you from the couch to your bedroom so you could start getting ready. He knows you take a while and the arranged meet up time was two hours from the current time. You move as quickly as you can, because even if you were only interested half heartedly, you didn’t want to be late. Especially because Jacob had a knack for constantly being punctual.

You kiss your teeth as you stare at your closet after you’ve finished showering and doing your hair and makeup. You felt like there was nothing good enough to wear. This wasn’t just a bar that you usually frequented, so you couldn’t dress casually. But it also wasn’t so fancy that you had to go over the top either. And for some reason, none of your clothes could fall into the perfect in-between category.

There was one dress.

You hadn’t worn it in a while, mostly because you never found the occasion to and it brought bad memories. It was a confidence booster, that was for sure. A tight black dress that stopped just below your ass and showed the perfect amount of cleavage. The moment you put it on, it’s like you’re a new person.

Staring back at you is someone you haven’t seen in a couple years, someone you shoved into the recesses of your subconscious. She used to party every night until she was black out drunk, making out and sleeping with random strangers until she was satisfied. She was stuck in a loop until she became friends with Jacob Bae, eventually moving in to get away from that lifestyle.

You never tell him how grateful you are. Part of you wishes to keep your past buried, hidden from the light of day so you never have to face your mistakes again. But at the same time, you could never tell him thank you enough. For saving you in a way, for helping you close that chapter of your life.

There’s a knock at your door, and you call out a “Come in” before your brain catches up with you. You make eye contact with Jacob in the mirror, watching his expression shift slightly. It wouldn’t have been noticeable if you were anyone else, but you knew him almost as well as you knew yourself. Maybe better.

He walks up behind you, brushing your hair behind your shoulder with a featherlight touch. “I haven’t seen this one on you in a long time.”

He’s so close to you, it’s kind of driving you crazy. You bite the inside of your lip, trying to keep your voice steady. “Should I wear it?”

His fingers start at your waist, trailing down to the hem of your dress. His knuckles skim across the bare skin of your exposed thigh, provoking your body to shudder. “Hmm, I’m not too sure,” Jacob rests his chin on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirror. “Seeing you in this is making me rethink going out tonight. Kinda wanna keep you here, all to myself, like that night at Hyunjae’s party.”

Okay, so perhaps you might’ve skipped a tiny detail in the retelling of your first encounter with Jacob Bae.

The reason you two became friends was because he actually happened to be one of those random strangers you slept with. It was a stroke of luck that you kept in contact with him after that night, considering he was supposed to be nothing more than a nameless face. But he was cute and he was funny, so when he asked to hang out a few days later you couldn’t help but cave in.

“Jacob…” You breathe, chest rising and falling rapidly. “D-Don’t you wanna see the boys?”

His lips press to the juncture between your neck and collarbone, a soft kiss that already packs your head with cotton. He hums into your skin, hands bunching up your dress around your hips. Someone was impatient. “Not important. We can reschedule.”

You didn’t want to reschedule. You wanted to get out of this apartment, fully clothed, with an excuse to ignore the hammering of your heart in your rib cage and the fluttering down there. If you stayed here any longer, Jacob would successfully charm his way into your pants. (Dress?) And you didn’t want to think about the consequences that may come with.

But it’s not like he gives you much of a choice, invading your headspace with every nip and suck of your jugular and jaw. His slender fingers run a line down the front of your panties, a small groan leaving the back of his throat when he feels how wet you are for him. With heavy eyelids, you watch the entire thing in the mirror, lips parting with a gasp at the sight.

“Fuck, baby,” he curses in your ear, pulling you backward so the two of you are sitting on the edge of your bed, still facing your mirror. “You want me just as bad don’t you?”

You whine, squirming as he dips his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, collecting your slick and smearing it all over your lower lips. He helps you shimmy out of your panties and dress, leaving you completely nude for him. His fingers resume their previous activities, easily pumping the ring and middle digits in and out of your cunt. His free hand grips your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on his movements.

“Cobie,” you whimper, spreading your legs wider to give both of you a better view. “Feels so good…”

His thumb circles your clit, mouth beside your ear to whisper all the filthy things he wants to do to you. Your toes curl at the same time his fingers do, brushing that sweet spot in your pussy. A strangled moan escapes you as you hit your climax, walls tightening around his fingers and back arching into his chest.

“That was so hot. You did so well for me,” he praises, thumb rubbing lazy patterns into your clit to bring you back down. “I just need you to do that on my cock. Can you do that for me, baby?”

“Mhm,” you nod, hands reaching behind yourself to free him from his jeans, fumbling with the button and zipper in your haste. “Need you inside of me already.”

You hope Jacob doesn’t have high expectations for you since you came so quickly with just his fingers. You’re not sure if he’s anticipating you to last longer with his cock. From what you remember, he wasn’t the longest, but he was definitely the thickest, and that’s what scared you the most. You were afraid of how full he’d make you feel.

Once the clothes from his bottom half are removed, you risk a glance at his dick in the mirror, your pussy clenching around nothing. Despite not knowing if you’d be able to take him without turning into a blubbering mess, you really wanted to try. You wanted him to fill you up like a plug in a bathtub drain.

He takes his girth in one hand, sliding his dick through your folds languidly, lubricating himself with the wetness of your cunt. He groans in your ear again, squeezing your hip to steel himself. “You ready for me?”

Your head bobs up and down quickly, patience wearing thin. He chuckles before impaling you on his cock, both of you moaning from the feeling of one another. The stretch burns, but it’s fucking heavenly, your pussy feeling so stuffed you can barely think. (Not that your thoughts were coherent beforehand anyway.)

“You’re— oh god, Jacob— you’re s-so deep,” you mewl, hands supporting yourself on his thighs. “I feel so full.”

He keeps his grip on your waist, fucking up into you as slowly as he can as to not disrupt your adjustment to his cock. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder, lips parted with a gasp every time he thrusts into your tight pussy. He shakes his head, urging you to stay upright.

“I need you to keep your eyes on the mirror, baby. Watch me fuck you until you can’t take it anymore.” Jacob commands, voice as deep as his dick inside of you.

You comply, hooded eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head when you take in the sight of him bouncing you on his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, lip splitting from the force in which you’re biting it. He looks so hot, focused on getting you both to that peak you desperately need to reach.

It’s such a stark contrast to the sweet Jacob Bae you’re used to, this one pounding into you without mercy, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. That first time you had sex, years ago, was pretty vanilla thanks to you both having a little too much to drink that night. You don’t even think you remembered most of it. Had you known he was such a freak, maybe you wouldn’t have pretended your attraction to him was nonexistent. Maybe this would’ve happened a lot sooner.

You don’t dwell on that regret much longer, Jacob yanking your attention back in by rubbing your clit with his middle finger. The amount of overstimulation fogs your vision, voluminous, pornographic level moans reverberating around the room. The words bubbling past your lips don’t make any sense, reduced to babbling until an encouragement is uttered into your ear.

“Cum on my cock, sweetheart,”

A cry is ripped from your vocal cords, your body writhing above him and continuing even after he’s orgasmed inside of you, fucking his cum into your cunt as he calms you down. You whimper when he grasps your jaw once more, egging you on to stare at the mixture of your cum running down your legs.

You both look absolutely feral, skin sticky with sweat and chests heaving up and down as if you’d ran a marathon. Jacob makes no move to pull out, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck, back and shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut as a wave of exhaustion rushes over you.

“I think you’re pretty close to succeeding in your mission,” you say hoarsely. “I can hardly function right now.”

He laughs, such a melodic sound it almost doesn’t belong in your current setting. “Yeah? Do you wanna help me pass it?”

And in spite of being on the brink of passing out, who are you to deny such a promising offer?

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz jacob #tbz jacob #jacob bae x reader #jacob bae smut #jacob x reader #jacob smut #juyeonszn #fawntober.2023🎃

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httpjungkookcom · 1 year

Text

Wobbly Legs | JJK (m)

Pairing | Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 7K-ish

Genre | Idol! Jungkook x "Man Eater”! Reader, Established Relationship Now (Excitinggg!!!)

Summary | Jungkook's never shy when asking you to try new things because he knows you'll never judge him, never laugh at him. (With malicious intent anyways.) That doesn't mean he's not nervous, hiding and ducking his head the entire time with a giant blush spread across his face while he's asking. With a bit of coaxing, Jungkook finally spits it out. Unknowingly, he's more in for it than he even realizes.

Index | pegging!!!, sexual content, dirty talking, Jungkook still gets praised a lot, fingering (male and female receiving), oral (male receiving), sub! Jk, bottom! jk, overstimulation, hair pulling, jungkook is still shy and flustered around the reader, jungkook in love like never before, makes sure his sweet gf cums like a good little bf, my personal bias for Jungkook’s nose (sue me lol), Reader is feral by the end of this lmao

A/N | Based off of my previous post, Man Eater Hunting. It's a long one, so I'll give you the general gist of it. Jungkook has a fat crush on the reader who happens to be Namjoon’s best friend, the reader thinks he just wants in her pants so she teases him for a while, pinning after each other for 40k words, and eventually proclaim their undying love for one another. In a secure, happy relationship by the end :) (A lot of fucking in between.) If you’d like to read it, it’s still pinned on my blog I believe.

Ever since the both of you’ve gone public with your relationship, Jungkook has been happier than ever. He gets to hold your hand in public, kiss your forehead, hug your waist, and do everything else under the sun without the worry of your lecturing. Your identity is still private, and most media respect it enough to at least not post an unblurred photo of your face. There are still plenty of photos of the both of you unblurred, but you try hard to look on the bright side. While being public means stress and worry for you in terms of media and cameras, seeing Kook be so happy makes the familiar warm feeling when you’re with him spread throughout your chest. The members are also all very supportive, their youngest visibly cheerier even on days he’s tired, worn down, or even lost a Mario Cart round against Taehyung.

You, Namjoon, and Yoongi still have your little group inside the larger group, one that Jungkook’s been trying to invade for the last 3 months. Yoongi constantly kicks him out of your studio, producing party, whatever you wanna call them, nights, claiming it’s a “no boyfriends allowed,” party. Jungkook then gets your favorite food or drink and pouts outside the studio door until you’re all done. Tae and Jimin still take stabs at you and Kook every so often, just enough to start a playful banter but never enough to actually hurt your feelings anymore. Jin has always been supportive and still is if not more. And Hope still takes jabs when he can, more so at Jungkook just to get him going than you. And lastly, Jungkook’s still Jungkook, just as needy as the night you’d met at Joon’s party.

Date night today, mine or your place?

Jungkook’s notification flashes across your screen, phone resting on the kitchen island as you cook dinner. A giant smile spreads across your face before you can even think to stop it, rushing to text him back. You type back with your pinky, other fingers too dirty from the ingredients.

Mine, I’m cooking already :)

Be there in 15.

He’s over in 10 minutes max, softly knocking on your front door. You open it with your elbows, hands held away from anything that doesn’t need seasoning smeared against it. Quickly, you dodge the embrace that you know happens when Jungkook steps into your apartment, hurriedly running off back to the kitchen. “I don’t wanna get your nice shirt all dirty,” You justify your retreat before he even has a chance to ask, you already know it's coming from the soft exhale you just barely caught while running for security.

“That doesn’t mean run away from meeee,” Kook whines back, following your warpath to the kitchen as he wraps his arms around your frame. He’s careful to keep his fingers away from any hot surfaces, taking the opportunity to place his palms on your chest without lecture. Besides that, he’s gone to the world as his face buries itself into your shoulder. “How’s your new job going?” He mumbles against your skin, causing goosebumps to shoot down your spine. Feeling the smirk from him on your skin, the little shit knows exactly what he’s doing. ”My little lead director of communications.”

(Namjoon swears he didn’t put in a good word for you at his company regarding the application, but you’re almost 99% positive he did. You reassure yourself that you deserve to be there by saying the interview went well at least.)

“Everyone’s so nice, you know?” You begin, trying to fight off the laugh that threatens to overflow. “My new nickname is The girl Jeon Jungkook picks up after work, in the office. And sometimes it’s, Doesn’t he have a girlfriend? Is he having an affair?!!” You joke dryly, looking over your shoulder at him. “Because there’s no way we could everrr be in a relationship in this universe.” You chuckle.

At this, Jungkook tries hard not to laugh at your dismay. He doesn’t try very hard, eventually cracking up. “Hey, what can I say? I’m popular.” He cracks, earning him a soft elbow in the ribs that quickly makes him retreat away from you. “Sorry! Sorry! Do you want me to talk to them, and tell them it’s not cool? Or have a staff meeting about bullying and gossip?”

Jungkook is lucky he’s so pretty, you think. This only makes your dismay worse, corners fighting hard to not tug up in a smile at how ridiculous he sounds. “That would make it worse, mom.” You finally crack into a smile, “If you were to go in there and tell them off like I’m 5 years old, I’d put in my two weeks immediately.” You laugh, putting the food onto plates before heading into the living room. This part of your and Jungkook’s routine is almost solid without how many date night-ins you’ve had in recent months. Kook goes for the drinks and utensils before joining you on the couch, clicking on the television.

You can almost hear the cogs turning in his brain. “Or, I can send a strongly worded email.” He adds, sitting down before pulling your legs over his lap. “No, no. I leave a voicemail. that’ll really get ‘em.”

“Koookkk.” Groaning, you can’t help but begin to laugh by the end of it. “I think, and hear me out, don’t get going just yet.” Your hands are held out in front of you. “Maybe, you don’t have to pick me up at my office every day when we leave the building. Maybe we can just meet in the garage or something. That way it’ll slowly die out of the conversation.” Jungkook’s almost offended by your words, dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if you’d shot him.

“That's the best part of my day, not happening.” Jungkook gives one hard shake of his head, a definitive no before he resumes eating.

“The best part of your day can be me walking to you in the parking garage instead.” You shoot, watching as Jungkook pretends to think hard about it. The final verdict is another hard shake of his head, signaling no. “Ugh, fine how about the cafeteria?” Another no. “Breakroom?” Another no. “Common areas?” Another no. “Jungkookkkk, work with me,” You complain, pointing at him threateningly with your chopsticks as you drive your foot into his abdomen.

“I like picking you up at your office.” He shrugs as he sets his food aside, going to grab your foot in his hold. The last time this happened, jungkook tickled you half to death, eventually earning him a hard kick to the temple. (You felt horrible, and he couldn’t shoot content for a week.) Immediately, you make your foot retreat in fear of his safety. He completely ignores the next train of complaints from you. In retaliation, you crumple up a napkin and bounce it off of his head, which he still doesn’t acknowledge.

“I can’t be called The girl Jungkook picks up, at my job. I really can’t Kook.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Jungkook finally gives in. “Fine, we can meet at the cafeteria.” He almost whines, pinching your calf lightly to display his grievances. After your mini celebration that Jungkook mopes throughout, the both of you get comfortable with just eating and watching the show as it fills the silence. Jungkook’s finished eating much faster than you are, waiting impatiently for you to be done. As soon as your plate hits the coffee table, he’s pulling you closer. “I miss you.” He starts, laying back and dragging you along with him.

“You see me every day.” You genuinely laugh, cuddling close to him as you continue to watch the show, cheek squished on his chest.

“It’s just not the same.” He's never satisfied. “When you’re working you’re all dressed up, and put together, and have your little bag filled with papers and fuck knows what else.” You chuckle softly, glancing up at him. “I miss just hanging out, watching tv, wearing pajamas, and you making fun of my toe socks which are very comfortable, FYI. We’ve been so busy recently.” At that, he holds you just the smallest bit closer. Your arms wrap around him in return, hands pancaked in between his back and the couch cushions. Glancing up, Jungkook’s soft gaze meets yours, a small smile spreading across his face. You return the smile, reaching up to hold his cheeks in your palms.

“First of all, the socks are atrocious. I only put up with them because it’s you.” You laugh loudly.

“Awwwww.”

“Secondly, you remind me of your younger self, Kook. It’s like I can still see him in you.” You smile hard, rubbing along the bridge of his nose with your pinky. If you were anyone else, Jungkook would tell you off for pointing out his nose, maybe even cuss a bit. But it's you, and he knows how much you rave about how cute you think it is, so he lets you slide your finger across. “So loving, so sweet Jungkook.” You can’t help but grin, moving to softly pink his cheeks in between your thumbs and index fingers. His teeth show slightly from the stretch, making you beam back at him. “My sweet boy.” You coo, finally releasing him as you lay back on his chest. Jungkook holds you even closer after that.

Jungkook’s fingers absentmindedly scratch along your back, every now and then rubbing the goosebumps that sprout up in their wake. You’re more focused on the movie than anything, brows furrowed together slightly as you listen closely to the dialogue to not miss a single detail. Jungkook, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. It’s already been an hour, you’re paying little to no attention to him and he’s growing impatient. The innocent scratches turn into heavy petting, eyes glued only to your frame, as his hips constantly readjust in their own accord. Trying to be subtle, Jungkook does his best to slowly hike your top up to get his hands on your bare skin. You’re more than aware of it, purposely ignoring him as you’re dead set on finishing up the stupid murder mystery, clue reminiscent, movie where you have to find out who the killer is. “Kook, go rub one out or something. I have 30 minutes left.” You complain, swatting away his hands as they begin to trail further underneath your shirt.

“No, it’s not the same.” He immediately whines, curling up more to you, face burying itself in your neck as he sits up slightly. You can feel the soft kissing, leaving light marks on your skin that he soothes with his tongue. “Do you remember when we were in my studio for the first time?” Jungkook almost shutters as he lays under you. So much for movie night and cuddles. “And you hit my prostate? I wanna do that again-“ He whines, burying his face in your chest in embarrassment. Your attention is finally diverted from the movie now, glancing down at him. You can only see the tips of his ears, burning a bright red that you can only guess is also spread across his cheeks. “But more.” He adds.

“You want me to fuck you? Is that what you’re saying?” Your voice drops, Jungkook immediately perking up at the tone with a small smile. “My boy, you want just my fingers, or you wanna be fucked?” Your hands come up to gently hold his head in them, fingers rubbing along his cheeks. Jungkook naturally leans into your touch, smiling softly as he deliberates.

“I want you to fuck me.” Jungkook finally states, nodding to solidify his statement. His words are booming in your otherwise quiet apartment.

“Oh shit.” You chuckle, his tone catching you slightly by surprise. At the small laugh, Jungkook’s face falls. “No, no I just laughed because it was so blunt and loud. Not at you, Kook.” You're quick to reassure, leaning forward to place a kiss on his forehead. “I think I may have a strap-on from-“

“You have a strapon?!?!” Jungkook interrupts you, shock and jealousy coursing through his voice, making you laugh.

“Listen! It was a gag gift from my friends in college, it’s not even used.” You roll your eyes, watching as he calms down. “You never let me finish my sentences.” You laugh, sitting up on his lap. He’s quick to follow, lurching into a seated position to meet you. “When bun?” His brow immediately creases.

“Today? Maybe?” The smirk that grows on your face is cheek aching, hands holding his face in your palms. Your thumbs gently brush his cheekbones, making him instantly melt in your hold.

“You’re cute, Kook.” You grin hard, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his nose. “Of course, I’ll fuck you bun. Happily. C'mon, to the bedroom.” You lightly slap his shoulders, encouraging him up. In a flurry, he’s hoisting the both of you from the couch in a millisecond, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. (He’s almost running into the bedroom, your legs wrapped tightly around him.) Jungkook wastes no time, allowing himself to fall backward onto the bed.

You land with a huff, Jungkook quickly situating you on his lap. “Alright, alright, I’m ready.” He smiles hard, ripping a laugh from your throat. “Do your worst.” It’s comfortable, the way your bodies easily fit together with one another, lips slotting together. You can taste the strawberry chapstick he wears so often, and smell the subtle citrus perfume that he always puts on when it starts to wear off. As always, Jungkook is easy to rile up. Slow kisses, pulling on his hair, slipping your hand underneath his shirt, and he’s already in over his head.

“You’re too easy, Kook.” You smile up at him softly, biting the soft skin on his neck as a dark mark begins to show. “I really hope you’re not always like this, with all your other girlfriends.” You tease him, knowing just how much he hates it. (He really does hate it, how could he want anyone else when he has you?)

“Y/nnnnn,” He complains, hands squeezing your thighs on either side of his waist hard, leaving small bruises in their wake. “You know I’m only this easy for you, always only you.”

“Hmmm, I don't know. Mr big league, international idol.” You continue to press all of his buttons, fighting back the smile as you look for the expression you already know he’s wearing. It finally makes you crack, cheeks hurting from how hard the smile is. Your hands slip underneath his ridiculously sized T-shirt, cold hands leaving goosebumps in their path as he involuntarily flinches away from them. You bunch it in your hands, peeling it off and over his head. “What was that one show you had recently, all sold out? How man fans did you-”

“You know that’s inaccurate,” Jungkook states immediately, dead serious which makes you laugh out loud.

“Alright, alright. Just getting you all bothered, bun,” The whine Jungkook lets out as you jokingly flick a nipple makes you ache, snapping you back into the reality of what the two of you are actually doing. “Fuck, bun. You gonna let me play with your pretty tits, hmm?” His fluffy hair bounces from how aggressively he shakes his head. You groan back, experimentally taking a nipple in between your teeth, harshly running your tongue over it.

“Feels good, feels good.” Kook whines, hips involuntarily grinding up against you. A small yelp unconsciously falls from him as you bite, one of his hands coming up to press firmly along your shoulder. “Biting? You just bit me!” He whines loudly, rubbing his chest. It makes you laugh.

“You bite me all the time without realizing it.” You counter, softly pulling his hand away by his wrist. Your tongue meets his chest once more, soothing over the mark before harshly licking, sucking, and biting once more. “You’re also always so rough with me, bun. Are you gonna let me be rough with you?”

“If you ever get there, sure. Seems like you’re stalling, you scared beautiful?” It’s taunting, finally his turn to push your buttons as he smirks down on you.

“We’ve gotta get you prepped Kook, otherwise you’ll be no fun to play with.” Once again, another tease meant to rile him up. Jungkoko groans just from your words, hands pulling your hips closer. Before he has a chance to counter, you’re moving down to meet his waistband, tugging on the sweatpants. Your thumbs hook underneath, catching both his underwear and tugging them off in one easy swoop. He’s rock hard, his cock hitting his lower stomach. “Can you reach over and grab the lube?” The bedside table is being slung open in two seconds flat, everything slapping against the front. Jungkook avoids the look you give him.

“Shut up, I don't wanna hear it.” He chuckles, handing it over after fishing around for it. “So how do you? How do we uh? Fit it in.”

Your heartbeat catches for a moment, glancing up and catching the slight nerves on his face before they disappear. “Kook.” You smile gently, a fond feeling in your chest. “We start slowly, Kook. We definitely don’t have to rush and if you want to stop we can always have a raincheck.” Jungkook listens intently, eyes wide as he takes everything in. Slowly. he nods as you finish up your speech. “So, we start slow.” You give him one last reassuring smile before you take the lube from him, being extremely generous as you apply it to your fingers.

His hips jerk into your hold as you take his aching cock with a soft fist, nerves making him jumpy. “Bun, relax. You know I’ll take care of you.” You coo to Jungkook, a blush flushing across his entire face.

“I know, I know you always do.” Jungkook nods, coaxing himself to relax as he lays down rather than resting on his elbows. You see part of his face, eyes screwed shut as he focuses on your touch. His breath sucks in as the cold lube meets his skin, legs tensing around your body where you sit between them.

“You have to relax, Kook.” You reiterate once more, sliding down slightly as your lips brush against his head. “You’ve been here before, bun.” You giggle, taking his head in your mouth as you focus on distracting him. He’s distracted easily, one hand reaching down to run his fingers through your hair, gently pulling at the strands. You allow him, sinking down slowly as you gauge his reaction.

“Feels good.” You can vaguely hear him whine, head pushed back into your pillow as he tries his hardest to focus on your mouth. As his legs relax around your body, losing himself in the pleasure, you easily slip your middle finger into his ass. “Fuck me!” He whimpers, clamping down around your finger.

“You’re okay, bun. You’re okay.” You reassure, glancing up to catch his expression. After he relaxes a bit, you sink onto his cock once more, not yet moving your finger. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze burning into your skin, watching intently as your nose brushes his abdomen. Experimentally, your finger draws out before easily sliding back in, pulling the smallest whine from the very back of his throat. Sinking back down onto his cock, you fight the gag off as he grinds into you, finally allowing the pleasure to wash over him again.

“Fuck! Is this what it feels like?” Jungkook whines loudly as you slip another finger in, gently pressing against his prostate as his hips readjust on their own.

“Feels like when what?” You draw before sinking back down onto him, your tongue harshly against rubbing the underside of his cock.

“When we fuck, when I’m in you.” It’s whiny and slightly breathless as he bites back his moans. Jungkook flushes a bright red across his chest and face, breath uneven as his chest rises and falls with heaves.

“Not at all, you’re way bigger than my fingers, bun.” It’s a boost in his confidence, immediately vanishing as one of your hands meets the back of his thighs. “Up Kook, just a bit so I can work you open,” He whines, so deep and guttural that you almost want to whine back. You're at three fingers when you actually start, beginning to fuck into him with your fingers, curling them to hit his prostate. His poor cock sits untouched on his abdomen, softly dripping precum onto his stomach from your touch.

Jungkook knows he’s in for it as you shuffle around in between him, climbing to your knees as his legs rest around your waist. It’s a change in your recent dynamic for sure, but he can't help the way his cock throbs the whines that slip past his bright red, bitten lips. Your free hand runs along his thigh, pulling it up slightly more as you push his hips into the mattress, fingers working him open and closer to his end.

“Kook?” You call softly, earning you a small hum in return. “You gonna be good for me, cum from my fingers?” Truthfully, he doesn’t know if he can but he trusts you enough to take him there. He nods quickly, bangs falling into his face. You pull another whimper just from changing your position, leaning over him slightly to watch all of his expressions. Taking his cock into one hand to push him closer, the other fucking him open, your body pressing him into the mattress, his mind just melts. His body feels hotter than humanly possible, mind reeling from all the sensations at once.

“Good boy Kook, my good boy.” Cooing, your lips meet his jaw as you gently kiss his hot skin.

“Close, really close.” Jungkook doesn’t quite understand the feeling that grows in his abdomen, only that it’s continuing to build as your fingers press harshly into him. He barely registers the feeling of your hand leaving his aching cock, mind too preoccupied with the incoming orgasm. “Coming.” His entire body shakes, hands searching for any sort of contact as they wrap around your body, pulling you closer to him. Jungkook’s sure he’s never experienced something like this before, sure he’s never come this hard in his entire life.

“Easy, Kook. It’s okay.” You help him through it, milking it for the most pleasure you can give him. Slowly easing your ministrations to a stop, you plant kisses around his face. Jungkook cums harder than you’ve ever seen, thighs still shaking against your body as he rides it out. “You okay?” He looks like he’s just run a marathon, chest heaving as he comes back.

“Yeah, yeah.” Kook huffs, flushed bright red underneath you.

“I’ll be right back? Okay?” He nods, allowing you to slip from his legs and instead begin to rummage through your bedside dresser. His eyes burn into your skin as you finally find it, the overly realistic strap-on held in place by a leather harness. “You still sure about this, bun?” You have to fight to untangle it, embarrassment following across your cheeks as you work on putting it on over your lace panties. Jungkook doesn’t even register your struggle as he watches.

“Yeah, yes. Please, Y/n.” Jungkook whimpers, cock throbbing as it slaps against his stomach. Nervousness sets in as you resume your spot in between his legs, hands rubbing along his thighs as they tense beneath your touch. “You’ll be gentle, right? Please?” He whimpers, taking one of your hands in his own.

“I’ll be as gentle as you are with me.” You giggle, slowly pushing his thighs back up to press his hips into the mattress. “Kidding, of course, I’ll be gentle, Kook,” You reassure, finally dropping the small nag as you once again fish for the lube. Jungkook fights the whimper that threatens to fall past his lips as he watches you lube yourself up, eyebrows scrunched together. “Ready bun?”

His lips are caught between his teeth as he nods, one of his hands meeting your own that holds his knee back. Leaning forward, you offer a quick kiss before starting. It’s slow, his chest heaving as you slowly allow the head to slip inside.

“You’re okay, bun.” You hum, redirecting a free hand to slowly jerk his cock. Sliding in slightly further, a loud moan slips past his lips as you brush along his prostate, cock throbbing in your hold. You have to talk him through it, sliding in inch by inch and allowing him to readjust each time. Rocking your hips slightly, Jungkook slowly takes the last inch before you’re fully inside, the base of the strapon grinding slightly against his skin. “You alright bun?” You coo, gently pulling an arm away from his flushed face.

Jungkook’s eyes are slightly watery, lips shining and bright red from how much he’s bitten down on them. Allowing him to adjust, you lean down to kiss him, lips sliding against one another as you grind against him. With a small nod from Jungkook, he encourages you back up.

“You’re so deep.” He whimpers as a response, clenching and unclenching around you. If only you could feel it, you’re sure you’d go insane. Seeing him so fucked out, pinned underneath your hold, whimpering and crying as he takes it., and being able to feel it? You’re bordering insane already. “Move, please.” Jungkook whines, so genuine that it causes you to clench around nothing.

“So good for me, Kook.” You praise, sliding out and easily pushing in in one swift thrust. The sound it makes is absolutely lewd, adding to your insanity.

“Fuck! Fuck!”

“So whiny, crying and I’ve barely started bun. Barely even moving right now.” You tease, watching as his cock bounces with each taunt. You can’t help but grind against him, feeling the faint warmth of his skin on your lower stomach.

“Yeah? Thought you wanted to be rough with me?” Jungkook knows what he’s doing, knows how much he’s essentially fucking himself over with his words, but he doesn’t care. He’s in trouble as you hike his thighs up with ease, pinning him to the bed how he pins you constantly. Vulnerability spreads throughout his entire body, open wide in front of you before you’re following, thighs pressed against the curves of his ass.

“Bun, be careful with your words.” You tease, giving him one hard snap of your hips to prove your point. It gets it across easily, forcing a moan past his lips which you swallow in a sloppy kiss. Jungkook’s burning up from the inside out, watching as your chest bounces each time you rock your hips into him, feeling the warmth of your skin each time you bottom out. His legs are hiked up higher than he’s ever been, knees almost touching the bed beside his torso as you fold him in half. “You alright, bun?” You ask, not paying much attention as your mind is focused on wedging your hands in the folds of his knees better.

“Yeah, yeah. I just didn’t know this would feel so intense?” He mumbles, hands reaching around his legs to hold your forearms in his palms. Moans fill your bedroom, Jungkook unable to hold back a single one. “Vulnerable? Feel this good? I don’t know which term I’m looking for.”

“Vulnerable? You feel vulnerable Kook? Do you want me to slow down-”

“No! No, I don’t feel vulnerable with you.” Jungkook wears a soft smile across his face, quickly broken as you rock harder into him. “The position is just…compromising I suppose.”

You can’t help but giggle at him. “Good, bun. I’m glad.” Grinning, you catch his lips in a quick kiss before pulling away once again. To get more leverage, (you’re going off of stuff you’ve seen Jungkook do,) you push yourself up onto your feet. “Being so good, taking me so well.”

“Are you, fuck fuck ah,” He whines, clenching around you as you’re able to finally set a steady pace, using your legs as leverage. “Are you mating pressing me right now?” Jungkook cracks in between moans, trying his hardest to maintain his composure. His brows are scrunched together, lips bit bright red as his lids struggle to stay open, completely and utterly fucked out. There’s a thin layer of sweat slowly building, making his skin shine prettily.

“Wish I could feel you Kook, wish I could.” You ignore his previous comment, eyebrows scrunching together as you focus on your movements. In any other context, Jungkook would coo at you and rub the small wrinkle that forms out with both thumbs, place a kiss there maybe. But in this context, with the concentration you’re giving him, it’s a scary one.

“Fuck, don't say that. Don't know how I’d react if I was able to feel you.” He reaches, teasingly pulling you in by your hip and throwing off your balance.

“I’m about to slip a fucking sleeve over your cock so you stop being such a smartass, bun.” You growl, snapping hard into him. It’s the whinest moan you think you’ve ever heard from Jungkook since you’ve met him, cock jumping at the threat. “Such a whore, Kook.” You can’t help but quip, watching as he stifles the moan that threatens to spill out.

“Think I’m gonna cum again,” His hands move to rest on his forehead, covering his face from you.

“Uhh uhh, you know better than that bun.” The smugness drips from your voice, one of your hands coming to pin Jungkook’s hands away from his red face. “C'mon, don’t make me punish you, cum for me like a good boy.” There’s a feral-ness in your voice, wanting to see him squirm underneath you, cry for you as he cums. Your hips snap on their own accord, watching as his soft pink lips part with each moan you work out of him.

“Fuck, Kook. So beautiful underneath me feels like I’m gonna die,” You complain with a smile, leaning over his body to bite softly into his chest. And you move to nip his neck, then the very base of his jaw, before moving back to his chest again to mark him. “Can't take it, how good you are.” You praise more, watching as he teeters on the very edge of his orgasm. His brain genuinely melts, jaw falling slack just the slightest bit as he full-body cums again, legs shaking around your waist. Jungkook breaks your hold on his arms, pulling your body close as he kisses you, sloppy and needy. Your palms trail along his skin, offering comfort to his shaking thighs and heaving chest as you slowly soothe them. “Easy, bun, easy.” You coo in between kisses, eventually slowing the needy kisses down to gentle and slow to help him catch his breath.

“Holy shit,” He finally offers, making you chuckle as you softly smooth his messy hair, pushing his bangs away from his sweaty forehead.

“You’re making such a fucking mess, bun. Just fuckin oozing everywhere like a whore, can't help it huh?” Teasing, you swipe at his abdomen to collect some of it, showing it off on your fingers. Jungkook can't help but tremble, whines spilling past his lips from your teasing. “You okay? Wanna take a break?” You check in after dropping your teasing tone, sitting up a bit on your heels to assess him. There are way more bite marks than you remember giving him, some showing the indents of your teeth in his flesh. It makes your cheeks warm, thumbs swiping the bite marks gently to try and smooth them out (it doesn’t work at all.)

“No, no, I think I have one more in me at least. God, pretty girl, fuckin feral huh?” Jungkook smiles, rubbing over the bite marks himself. Embarrassment overcomes you, cheeks reddening as all you can do is smile. “I like it.”

“What can I say, gotta mark what’s mine.” You offer cheekily, leaning in for one last kiss before resuming. “You think you can take it on your knees?”

“Oh fuck,” It’s more of a whimper than anything, Jungkook knowing this is, in fact, going to be the last one before his mind melts entirely. “Think I might die if I take it on my knees.” He offers, whimpering as you slide out of him to allow him to move. If Jungkook was luckier, you suppose you’d go easier on him, maybe whisper sweet nothings into his ear as you give him back shots. As he flips over, ass waving in the air, you feel as if you’ve been starved for the last year. His waist looks smaller than normal like this, shoulder muscles flexing as he rests on his arms, thighs shaking just the slightest bit from his previous 2 orgasms.

Definitely not going to be gentle, you discern. Your hands instinctively reach for his ass, lightly slapping this skin underneath your palms to test his reaction. He offers a muffled groan, pushing his ass back into you. Slapping slightly harder, his skin begins to redden into a faint handprint. “My little whore.” You can't stop yourself, Jungkook pushing himself back once again. Pushing yourself up onto your knees, you easily slip in the head, earning a throaty groan from Kook. “God, bun.” Is all you can manage, reaching over into your bedside drawer to fish out another toy. “Be good and get this wet for me, alright?” You almost purr, a giant smile spread across your face as you hand him the fleshlight.

You slide into him with a wet shhlickk, humming softly as your hips meet his soft skin. Glancing around to the best of your ability, Jungkook’s obviously conflicted as he steals glances at the bottle of lube that sits near him. “Bun, I said wet it.” You drawl, leaning over his body to reach, Jungkook letting out a whine from how deep you are. You take it from his stilled hands, his mind too preoccupied with the way your hips press into his ass. “Cum a couple of times and can’t think, huh?” You tease, pushing the toy up to his lips, grinding it against him as he begins eating it out.

Jungkook groans, so deep and throaty that you would've sworn he just came without even being stimulated, mind beginning to catch up to all the sensations. “Please, move Y/n. Can’t take it, too deep.” Kook whimpers, pushing his ass harder into your hips. Death grip still around the toy, you're unmoving.

“Bun, cmon. Be good for me, this is the first thing I've asked of you this entire time.” It’s a sight for your sore eyes, pink tongue slipping into the clear center as his eyebrows form that familiar crease between them with concentration. The hand not holding the toy slides around his torso, gently rubbing over his sensitive chest and nipples to give him some sort of touch. You can't help but clench around nothing, watching as his jaw flexes and tenses with each movement. Pulling it away, you're almost drooling with desire. “You gonna let me be rough with you, bun?” You tease, easily sliding the toy partially over him.

He just shakes underneath you, absolutely quivers as he sinks into the toy. “Yes, please. Please be rough, be mean,” He whines, biting down hard on his lower lip as you rock into him, forcing him to rock into the toy in turn.

“See Kook? I move, you move.” You can’t help but smile, chest still flush against his back as you allow him to get used to it. Both hands find his chest, squeezing, pinching, and rubbing wherever they can. Jungkook’s basically panting underneath you, abs clenched hard in concentration as he tries not to cum embarrassingly early. “Gonna move now, alright?” He offers a nod as an answer, eyes screwed shut and lips bit down.

You force a deep moan out of him with the very first thrust of your hips, not only hitting his prostate but forcing him completely into the clear toy underneath him. “Gonna cum early Kook? Feels too good, huh? Just so many different sensations happening at once.” You tease him. Reaching forward, you pull hard on the back of his hair, Jungkook’s being forced up onto his hands.

“Feels good, really good. Too good.” He almost babbles, making the heat in your abdomen pool. “Don't wanna cum yet, but might.” He whimpers, mouth falling open as you snap your hips hard into him. Without even thinking, you allow your fingers to slip into his mouth, pressing down hard on his tongue. Jungkook genuinely drools, coating your fingers and creating a string that falls onto the covers. “Lemme cum, wanna cum, bad.”

“You have to ask nicely.” You grit, grinding into him. One of your arms wraps around his torso, holding him close. Your lips meet his shoulder, biting down slightly on the warm skin.

“Please lemme cum.” It’s the best you’re going to get in his current state, mind seconds from leaving his head completely.

“Go head bun, come hard for me.” You coo, keeping your antics up to the best of your ability given the exhaustion slowly creeping up on you. (You’re older than Kook, give yourself a break. You don’t have as much stamina as the boy.) “Be good and let me hear you, bun.” You could cum just from listening to him, whining, moaning, and borderline crying as he cums for the last time of the night. His thighs shake against yours, hands creating fists around the covers as his knuckles go white. “Easy, Kook. Easy, you’re okay.” You help him through it, hands roaming his body to help ground him with your touch. Slowly, you maneuver him back down to his elbows to rest. “Gonna slide out, okay, I’ll be careful.” Talking him through it, you help him onto his back, tossing the toys aside to be cleaned.

“Holy fuck.” Jungkook whines, covered in his own fluids as he finally rests entirely. There’s drool covering his chest, absolutely lewd as he peers up at you with half-open eyes. “Gonna have to do that again, sometime.”

“You okay, Jungkook?” You ask gently, taking him into your arms as your lips meet for the millionth time that night.

Jungkook beams at you, the widest and most cheesy smile you’ve seen in a while. “Of course, babe. More than okay, thank you for doing that with me.” He grins, cupping your face in one hand as he kisses you.

“C'mon, let’s go take a bath. I don't think your legs could stand long enough for a shower.” You tease. He knows you're right, but he profusely denies it in an attempt to prove you wrong and show just how strong he is. (He needs your help walking to the bathroom, wobbly legs himself.) You allow him to keep his dignity, not bullying him too much on the way to the tub.

“Wait, you didn’t cum did you?” Jungkook makes the sudden revelation in the bathroom, pulling you close to his chest. Your hands meet his biceps, small smiles spreading across both of your faces.

“No, but it’s okay I- KOOK!” He catches you off guard as he easily dips a hand into your panties, fingers immediately slipping through your folds from how wet you are. “It’s okay, I enjoyed seeing you like that for me regardless, I don't have to cum to enjoy things you know?”

“Hmmm, but it’d make me feel a lot better.” Jungkook cheekily smiles, already working you up as he slots his thigh in between your own. “Please cum for me, just once. I’ll lend you my fingers, please cum on my fingers.” He’s basically begging, waiting for you to nod before moving his hand anymore. It's hotter than you would've thought, you riding his fingers while standing, sloppily making out as he swallows your moans with soft groans, bodies held close together, warm skin against warm skin. “Sound so pretty, angel. These sounds just for me, all mine,” He mumbles against your lips, making you clench hard around him.

“Just a bit more, Kook. Almost there,” You whine loudly, grinding against him.

“I’ve got you, bun’s got it.” Jungkook easily takes you there, basically knows your body like the back of his hand. Your knees part more to allow his hand to move more freely, legs shaking slightly as you stand on your toes.

“Cumming Kook.” Eyebrows scrunching together, the pool that’s been hot in your stomach finally overflows, your poor cunt aching as you cum. Jungkook does his best to ride you through it for as long as possible, milking it for all it’s worth. “Too much, hurts.” You whimper against Jungkook’s neck, softly grabbing his wrist.

“I love you. I fucking love you so much.” Jungkook removes his hand as quickly as he shoved it in your panties, pulling you close as he kisses you.

“Oh my god! Get in the tub, we’re going to be fucking in my bathroom if we keep this up.” You giggle, softly pushing him toward the already-filled tub.

“Fine, even though that seems like a fun time too,” Jungkook complains, climbing in. His eyes never leave your frame as you take off your panties, dropping them in the laundry before slipping in behind him. “Hot.”

“Kook, shhhhhhhh.” The both of you laugh, Jungkook moving to rest against your torso. Placing a hand on his forehead, you softly pull his head back to rest it on your shoulder. “I love you too, Jungkook. Always have.” You kiss his cheek softly, hands coming to hold his head gently as you do. Jungkook pretends to hate it, jokingly pulling away from your lips as you kiss him multiple times. You’re sure he’s blushing, but he ferociously avoids looking at you as you try to see his cheeks better to tease.

He’s 100% blushing as he sits up away from you, you're sure of it. He offers a “nuh uh” before you're slapping a hand across his eyes, yanking him down once more. It makes the both of you laugh loudly, water sloshing against the tub walls. Finally, he gives in. “Fine, whatever. Love you too.”

“Love you more, wobbly legs.”

If you have any comments, feedback, etc, please let me know in the tags or comments! I always love to hear from readers and listen to your thoughts! Thank you for reading.

Love, G <3

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sorchathered · 2 months

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Don’t take the girl

Pairing- Rhett Abbott x reader

Summary- the after effects of Perry and Royal killing the Tillerson boys brings more trouble and heartache into Rhett’s life, can he keep what he holds most dear or will he lose it all?

Warnings- language, violence, mentions of death, smut.

A/N- I meant to put this out months ago but never did, hopefully y’all like it! It’s a rewrite of one of my first fics and I still don’t know if I like it but I’m putting it out into the tumblr-verse anyway lol.

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“I called my firm in Cheyenne, and they said they could get my position back for me by the end of next week, I-I think it’s the best option right now.”

Rhett reels back from you like he’s been slapped, furiously shaking his head eyes full of venom.

“Don’t you get tired of it? Constantly running from your problems?”

You give him an incredulous look, clearly he’s not going to let this go quietly like you’d (foolishly) hoped.

“I’m not running! It’s self preservation Rhett! For both of us! We can’t just dilute ourselves into thinking we could weld ourselves back together, we’re completely different people now and I love you- God I love you more than anything and always will-“

“Don’t, you don’t get to use that on me when clearly you and I have different ideas of what love is.” He looks absolutely disgusted now, you can barely stand to look at him, it brings tears to your eyes to even think you’re hurting him again.

“That’s not fair and you know it-“

“Not fair?! You wanna know how many girls I’ve slept with since you?”

“Don’t” you reply weakly

“At least a hundred, maybe more I don’t even see their faces anymore Y/N. I haven’t had a single relationship that lasted more than a month since you left, I can’t even try to make it work. I got with Maria trying to feel something, anything but I couldn’t get serious, she knew I’d never be over you and I hate that she was right. Because when I’m fucking some buckle bunny or one night stand you’re the only face I see. You came home and it was like a sign, I could get my second chance and get my shit together, be the man you deserved. But there’s something broken in you, you can’t just let me love you.” He looks into your teary eyes and shakes his head, “I refuse to be the reason we fell apart. You turn your back on me now and that’s it darlin’ don’t ever think I’ll let you in again.”

He turns on his heel and slams your front door, rattling the windows with the force of it. You want more than anything to run after him, beg him to listen but you know he’s right. You are scared; Perry and Amy were missing, Trevor and Billy were dead and Rhett had barely made it out unscathed. The Tillerson’s were still circling like vultures, Perry had admitted to murdering Trevor before he disappeared but they wanted retribution and they’d take a pound of Abbott flesh to settle the score. Dropping to your knees in your family’s home you sobbed, you knew you’d fucked up again but you didn’t know any other way but to save yourself when things got tough.

You and Rhett had fallen in love overnight it seemed, your mother’s had been attached at the hip all your lives and to say the two of you tolerated each other was an overstatement. Junior prom seemed to change everything, he asked Maria and she turned him down cold, and your boyfriend dumped you the week before so of course your parents suggested you go together. Rhett couldn’t think of anything more painful in his life, but he knew better than to question Cece so off he trudged in his suit jacket, wranglers and best pair of boots to pick you up. When you crossed the threshold it was like he’d never seen you before in his life, you’d always been one of the boys to him but in your baby blue dress and hair all curled he swore you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid eyes on. You had been inseparable from that night on, always holding hands and stealing kisses; Perry attempting to take the piss out of you at every opportunity but it never phased you.

When you’d been accepted to college in another state Rhett felt like his whole world collapsed. You both promised you’d make it work and stay together but the distance became too much and before you knew it 6 years had passed between you. You’d seen each other in passing over holidays but he was jaded from the heartbreak and you knew better than to push him. Your mother had passed at the beginning of the year and you made the trek back to Wabang to settle her affairs, but ended up getting a job with the local law firm and before you knew it months had passed and you’d fully integrated yourself back into the community.

Stepping into the pit bar that summer night had changed everything, he’d been drinking with his buddies and you had let an old high school girlfriend convince you that drinks and line dancing were the cure for your melancholy. Some guy got a little too handsy, Rhett came out of nowhere and knocked him on his ass and just like that the two of you were making out like teenagers in the front of his old pickup. You’d picked right back up where you left off, and then everything went to shit that fateful fall night when Perry took Trevor’s life.

Rhett was seething as he drove back to the ranch, he felt like his skin was on fire and couldn’t stop the tears from spilling as he violently shook. How was he supposed to go without you again? He’d been patched up with tape and glue for years, just trying to make a name for himself in the pbr circuit and drowning his sorrows in beer and pussy. He’d become a shell of who he was without you, a version of himself he hated. You’d come back into his life and for once he had hope for a future outside of just surviving. He knew you were scared but damnit so was he! His family was unraveling at the seams and he couldn’t do anything to stop the onslaught of troubles that ravaged everything he held dear. He slammed the truck to a stop, tears blinding his eyes as he began to hyperventilate, sobs wracking his body and he let it all wash over him. Didn’t know how long he’d sat there until he was startled by his phone ringing, pulling himself together to see who the hell needed him this late at night.

“Rhett! Rhett please- I need you to listen-“

You sobbed into the phone, something was wrong; you hadn’t been the number on the screen when he answered, and he heard a thud and a scream from you on the line as someone else took over the call.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a dilemma Abbott, both my brothers are dead and there’s no one to pay the price for the sins your family committed. So it looks like your sweetheart will have to do.” Luke Tillerson laughs darkly as he drags you out to his truck by your hair, Rhett can hear your sobs through the phone and he nearly blacks out from the anger coursing through him.

“Luke if you hurt her-“

“Aht Aht let’s not make empty threats Rhett, you know I hold all the cards right now. You want to see her alive? Trade yourself for her, you’ve got twenty minutes.” The line goes dead and the phone lights up again with a text. With shaking hands Rhett opens the message, blood splattered across your beautiful face as you lay slumped in the bed of Luke’s truck. Coordinates for a location and a countdown pop up next, and Rhett has to wrench the door of the cab open to throw up. He unlocks his phone again and dials Sheriff Joy, he doesn’t know how to fix this but he’ll give himself up, let Luke torture him until his last breath if it means keeping you safe.

Against the sheriff and his father’s wishes Rhett is speeding down the highway, gps taking him towards the location Luke sent him. His shotgun that normally lay under the bench seat of his truck was in his lap now, knowing he would do what was needed if it meant keeping you alive; even if that meant Wayne Tillerson would bury all three sons in the span of a month.

Joy had begged him to wait for them to get there first, but he knew at the first sign of police presence Luke would do something drastic and he couldn’t take that risk. He shut off his headlights as he turned into the drive near the tiny shack the directions had led him to, putting the truck in park a couple hundred feet away. He still had a good ten minutes to spare maybe if he could get the upper hand he could subdue Luke and get you both out of this unscathed.

Creeping up towards the old building he could see a light and hear voices, as he peered into the window he found Luke pacing the floor with you tied to a chair. Bruises were blooming across your cheekbone and your nose was bloody, tears pouring from your eyes as you begged him to let you go. You catch movement in the window, his eyes meeting yours in that moment you know you need to create a diversion if you want to keep the both of you alive.

“Luke you don’t have to do this, you know Rhett isn’t responsible for what happened! You can still walk away from this, I won’t press charges and we can let this go.”

He cocks his head to the side, appraising you, something dark behind his eyes that causes a shiver to run down your spine. He shoves himself off the rickety table he was perched on, kneels down in front of you and places his hands on either side of your duct taped calves.

“Oh y/n you sweet little thing. I’m not blind you know, I’ve noticed you over the years; you grew up to be quite the woman. Accomplished lawyer, definitely more than just a pretty face and it kind of makes me wonder why the hell you’ve been wasting your time on Rhett. He’s small time darlin’, never gonna be anything more than a glorified ranch hand, constantly chasing after his daddy’s approval. Tsk tsk if your parents could see you now, all the time and money they wasted to get you out of this piece of shit town and here you are repeating your mistakes all over again.”

He’s taunting you, just looking for a fight; any excuse to take out some of the aggression that has sat under the surface as his whole world fell apart. You could give him what he wanted, go head to head and maybe keep him distracted while the clock runs out, but really you would just be prolonging the inevitable. He wanted someone to pay for what had been done to him, and you knew he’d get it. So you looked at him with the sweetest smile you could muster and spit directly into his face. While he was distracted you pushed your chair forward to land on top of him, hoping to disarm him as the gun slides across the floor. He lets out a shriek, hauling you back up by the hair just as Rhett quietly steps through the door behind him. Luke raises his open palm to strike you and as he does Rhett slams the butt of his shotgun against the back of Luke’s head, rendering him unconscious. He steps over his body as he rushes for you, your body shaking as he looks you over, making sure all your injuries are superficial.

“Baby girl look at me, you’re ok y/n. Don’t panic, this isn’t over yet.” He leans down to kiss you and you nod frantically, you know he needs to subdue Luke before he comes to and tries to attack again. Tucking the pistol Luke was carrying into his waistband he hauls his unconscious body off the floor and begins taping his arms and legs together. Flashing lights and sirens fill the quiet and you let out a sob, everything is going to be ok, you two are finally safe.

After nearly an hour of questioning and prodding from the paramedics you are finally free to go, gently placed in Rhett’s truck and tucked inside his arm as he drives you back home. Luke had been arrested, no bail was set and a protective order would be put in place to keep the two of you safe from what was left of the Tillerson family.

You’d let Rhett carry you inside and up the stairs to your room with no complaint, normally you’d fuss at him for babying you but after the events of the night you needed him close.

As he began to remove your shoes you were overcome with emotion, tangling your right hand in his hair and letting out a sob. He startled at the outburst, surging forward to pull you back into his arms, cradling you in his lap and he tried to calm your tears.

“It’s alright sug, just let it out baby I’m right here I got ya.” He was pressing kisses to the side of your head and you didn’t know what was coming over you as you quickly grasped his face and slotted your lips against his. You needed him to be closer, shivering in his arms as you began to yank at his clothes, trying to curl yourself in on him. He tried to pull back to make sure you were really up for what you were asking but you wouldn’t let him, rubbing your clothed core along his ridiculous gaudy belt buckle and sucking his tongue. Giving in to you was as easy as breathing, if he was honest he needed this as much as you the fear of losing you had shaken him to his foundation, if he could convince you to stay he’d make sure you got everything you dreamed of.

Finally stripped bare you lowered yourself onto him, tears still silently spilling from your eyes as you kissed him, the thought that you’d almost given this up mere hours ago was unimaginable. He let you take the lead, grinding down on him and letting his pubic bone catch your clit with each thrust, head thrown back in pleasure as he sucked marks all over your chest. It was pure need thrumming through you both as you cried out and reached your orgasm, whispered I love yous against each others skin while he let you ride it out. Flipping you on to your back he began to chase his own release, wrapping his rough hand around your throat and pulling you into a passionate kiss, he groaned deep into your mouth and came inside you, the heat flooding your abdomen bringing another climax of your own as you both collapsed to the floor a tangle of sweaty limbs.

You must’ve fallen asleep like that because you woke to the sun peering through your window still tangled up in Rhett’s warm embrace on the bedroom rug. You nuzzled into his neck and pressed kisses to his jaw as you felt him stir beside you.

“Wake up sleepy head, need to get us both cleaned up and fed” you cooed at him and he grinned underneath his arm, laugh rumbling through his chest and against yours at the realization that you two hadn’t even made it to bed. He let you haul him up and drag him to the shower, what should have been an innocent soaping up of bodies became a heated affair with you pressed against the shower wall as he fucked you hard until you both were spent and starving.

He knew you still had a lot to talk about, what had happened before your abduction still wasn’t resolved but he didn’t press it, content to just spend the day wrapped up in you. Cece had called you both over a dozen times, full of worry after Royal had come home to tell her what happened. You rang her after breakfast and promised everyone was ok, agreeing to come have dinner later in the week after you’d rested. You knew you’d have to field questions from most everyone in town in the aftermath but you couldn’t bring yourself to reply to any texts or messages on social media; just the thought made you nauseous all over again, memory of the feeling of Luke’s hands brutalizing you making you drop the mug in your hands shattering on the ground and making you jump.

Rhett was there in an instant to help you clean it up, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself and tossing the remnants in the trash. You looked up at him letting out another sob, since when had you become such an emotional wreck?! You couldn’t seem to keep it together as you began to apologize over and over, Rhett scooping you up into his arms and placing you on the counter to hug you close.

“Hey, hey none of that ok? You didn’t do anything wrong, you knew this shit would happen and tried to make a clean break; goddamnit I should have let you then I could have kept you safe from all of this.” He felt wretched, he’d blown you off when you said the Tillerson’s would look for revenge and then been forced to watch as you were nearly taken from him as a result of his family’s sins. You shook your head violently now, trying to force the words out because if he blamed himself for one more minute you may explode.

“I shouldn’t have tried to leave Rhett! If I hadn’t run you off last night Luke would have never been able to take me, and we wouldn’t have gone through all this!” You wailed and stuttered as you tried to continue, needing him to understand what had been consuming your thoughts all day. “I don’t ever want to be without you again, I was so scared he’d hurt you or me and we’d never get a future together. You deserve everything baby, I promise I won’t ever leave again just please don’t blame yourself for this anymore.” He couldn’t stop the tears now, didn’t know where yours began and his ended but he pressed himself to you and poured all the love he had into kissing you.

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*1 year later*

Rhett was exhausted. He’d finished up last years circuit in first place, made the finals and won those as well, catching the eye of scouts who signed him immediately for a professional team. Since then he’d been touring and riding in competitions, in and out of hotels but always on the run to get back to you. The season was finally over and he was bone tired, but he drove all night to make it home to your little homestead in Cheyenne in the wee hours of the morning. Moving out of Wabang had been a breath of fresh air, the two of you were thriving in your careers and had bought a small farm on the outskirts of the capital city, a new start just what you both had needed. He trudged up the steps now, quietly trying to enter your house not wanting to wake you so early. But as he entered the living space he saw the bedroom light on and heard soft cries flowing down the hall. There in the warm glow of your shared bedroom was his beautiful wife and 1 month old baby girl, you were singing softly to her as you rocked her in your chair, attempting to soothe the little one back to sleep. His heart swelled at the view, drinking both of you in as he leaned in the doorway, completely enamored.

You looked up at him, sensing his presence from his gaze and cooed down at the baby in your arms. “Look what we have here my sweet little angel, daddy is finally home.”

He crossed the room to gather you both in his embrace, he’d gotten everything he ever wanted.

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Tagging- @attapullman @bobgasm @sebsxphia

#rhett outer range #rhett abbott x reader #rhett #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott #outer range fanfiction #outer range

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snarky-art · 1 month

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I swear I dont wanna be mean but why does everyone keep making stella fat. Why is it that the most attractive character, whom everyone finds beautiful inside the show, is the one who is always turned fat. Like... No one would find her attractive if her canon design was like that. I promise im not being mean but I feel like the artists are always projecting themselves onto Stella and wanting to be loved like she is, cause usually the ones making her fat are fat too, like I saw your selfies and you're a bit curvy. I promise im not being mean im just curious.

For starters, send me more fat Stella’s if you can I haven’t seen that many made and would love to see more varied takes on her appearances in redesigns.

Secondly, I made her fat because I think it’s nice to have the character that’s canonically considered to be the most beautiful girl in all of magix, a fashion icon in the magical dimension, a very celebrated trendsetter, be something other than the stereotypical concept of socially acceptable fashion tropes. She isn’t an hourglass, she has cellulite and stretch marks, she’s super pear shaped, and that can be and should be considered something to be normal, since they are, and shouldn’t be seen as things that need to be hidden. Having that put on a loud and proud fashion girly seems good imo and it can only really contribute to good stuff for body image stuff and representation. I did it so people like you could reconsider that beauty is something that comes in multiple forms and shouldn’t have to fit one type of standard. If we wanna get super technical too those standards also very from culture to culture and I image that’s extended even further in Winx club.

The girls are all aliens from different worlds. There’s bug people. There’s a lady in the miss magix episode that has tentacle hair, a blue body, and tentacle hands and feet. I highly doubt beauty standards in canon would be the same as what you’re saying, ie that no one would consider her beautiful. As if people who look like her irl also would inherently be considered not beautiful too. I know lots of people who have people that think they’re the hottest thing ever and they have all sorts of different body types and traits. Lets just call it realism lol

I’m not really projecting any of my physical stuff on her also, outside of I guess stretch marks and cellulite?? But I put those on other characters too so I don’t really think that holds up. I actually put my old body type on Flora since she’s my favorite, but now I’m way more midsized, like a slightly thinner Bloom from my stuff (love this unit of measurement gonna start using the gorls as a reference point for my appearance going forward lol). I’ve always had the “socially acceptable” fat type of body, ie hourglass with even proportions and a super snatched waist. I just think it’s tired and trite to constantly reenforce the idea that “the hot fashion one” needs to be tall and thin all the time, and if she is made fatter, that she needs to look like I did ie not much of a tummy with super equal proportions, big boobs, and a big ass.

Kinda related to that also, I made a post about a lot of character design “rules” too that I think are kinda outdated and annoying, at least to me, since I’ve seen them a million times. We all have. So I decided to do something different that I think would be good for normalizing traits outside of what we consider typically acceptable for that kind of character.

I’m already very loved also and don’t need to project anything on Stella lmaooo

I got multiple partners, great friends, do modeling, and am slaying with my own fashion and appearance stuff outside of that too. That’s all independent of whatever I’m doing with her physical body type when I draw her.

Gonna level with you also, you going “I’m not trying to be mean” doesn’t erase how weird this ask is. Sounds like you have your own gripes that you need to work through. Like, if you consider those traits on Stella ugly, that means you definitely have some internalized hatred for fatness, skin blemishes, scarring, and other peoples’ general appearances if they don’t fit some specific molds that aren’t realistic for the majority of people. Even if it is just genuine curiosity, being aware of this stuff going forwards and reevaluating how you view beauty standards and bodies in general would do you a great benefit imo.

Thanks for going through my old selfies tho it was pretty weird of you but at least make sure to leave a like on them. I looked hot when I was fatter and I look hot now too sharing this with the world is the least I can do💕✨💕✨

#winx club #winx #asks #normalize other body types being considered hot because that’s just how it is irl too outside of what magazines and movies might tell you #people fall in love with all kinds of people or think all sorts of people that aren’t models are hot #and they’ve got bodies like hers #it’s just realistic if you wanna get technical lol

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kingofbodyrolls · 18 days

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

🐴Chapter summary: After breaking up with Jimin, you realize how much you love him, and that maybe that love should be enough to carry you through your new life— being a parent, for someone else’s child.

🐴Chapter title: I Wish the Past was Different

🐴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?), mention of pregnancy (not oc!!!), a riding accident, a lot of thinking and overthinking, sadness and angst, jealousy, working through feelings.

🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!)

🐴Word count: 10.5k

🐴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 💿 “Time Turn Over” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: OC is being very Bella Swan in this chapter, I’m sorry again 😭 BUT!!! The angst goes away in this chapter too, because I just wouldn’t do it (I’m tired of the angst, lol). Because of said angst, it was tough for me to write and I actually ended up asking my husband for advice because I was stuck, not meeting my own word length deadline and because I just felt stuck in general 🥲 But alas, he gave me a good idea, and I went with that! There is very minimal angst going forward from this chapter, like it’s so minor compared to all the rest, so I hope you’ll enjoy mostly unicorns and rainbows after this chapter ☀️

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?

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“And oh, I wish the past was different And oh, I wish it wasn’t so But in the end, because I’m here now In the end, I think you know I can’t say it and you can’t feel it but I can not let it go And oh, I wish the past was different And oh, I wish it wasn’t so” ‘I Wish the Past Was Different’ by Rebecca Lavelle

You’ve thrown yourself into your work with the wild horses, seeking solace in their untamed spirits. Yet, the bittersweet reality of having to work at Jimin’s place constantly tugs at your heartstrings. Each encounter with him reignites the longing to be wrapped in his arms, to find solace in his embrace, and to believe in a future together. But then you catch sight of Deiji, and the floodgates of jealousy and insecurity and self doubt burst open once more, drowning you in feelings of inadequacy and unpreparedness for the daunting prospect of motherhood, especially when it's someone else's child at the center of it all.

Why does life have to twist and turn in such cruel ways? The weight of this pain is crushing, dragging you down with each passing moment, threatening to shatter you into irreparable fragments.

You find yourself yearning for an alternate reality where Jimin never crossed paths with Deiji, where their relationship was just a figment of imagination rather than a painful reality. The ache in your chest resonates with the desire to assign blame, to point fingers at anything but your own heart for walking away. It’s easier to lay fault at the feet of Deiji and Jimin than to confront the agonizing truth of your own decision to part ways.

You scuff, a tempest of anger and sorrow swirling within you, each emotion battling for dominance, leaving your stomach tied in knots. Amidst this tumult, focusing on the wild horses becomes a difficult task, prompting Hoseok to step in and assist Yoongi more frequently while you remain perched atop the fence, a silent observer of the scene below.

The love between the two men is palpable, their synergy evident as they collaborate seamlessly. Yet, as you observe them coaxing a once-wild gray horse into submission, a bittersweet symphony plays in your heart. Their laughter, like tinkling bells, fills the air, but with each shared chuckle, a pang of longing grips your soul. You can’t help but notice the gentle caress of Hoseok's hand on Yoongi’s arm, the way their eyes meet with an unspoken understanding, and their voices, light and airy, carrying the melody of their affection.

Their effortless relationship is both heartwarming and gut-wrenching to witness. You adore them both and revel in their happiness, yet a pang of envy lingers as you yearn for a similar bliss with Jimin. The prospect of parenthood looms over you like a daunting storm cloud, and you're lost in a tempest of uncertainty, unsure of how to navigate the tumultuous waters ahead.

Hoseok’s hands caress the sleek coat of the gray horse, his touch a delicate dance of reassurance and patience. The majestic creature stands serene under his guidance, a testament to their bond of trust and understanding.

Yoongi pivots, his keen eyes catching the shadow of sorrow that’s cloaked you for days, casting a solemn hue over your features.

He strides over, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of your storm. Perching beside you on the fence, he offers a reassuring pat on your shoulder. “It’s going to be alright,” he assures, his voice a soothing balm to your troubled soul.

You highly doubt it. You replay the choices in your mind like a broken record, each decision leading you to this moment of heartache. You could have chosen to stay with Jimin, to endure the pain silently, but the weight of it all felt unbearable. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the turmoil within.

You turn your gaze towards Yoongi, the question burning on your lips, a mixture of curiosity and longing swirling in your chest. Despite knowing you shouldn't pry, your heart yearns for a glimpse into Jimin’s world. “How’s Jimin holding up?” you inquire, your voice tinged with a fragile hope, betraying the emotions you've been grappling with.

Yoongi’s eyes meet yours, a silent plea evident in their depths, urging you to reconsider your question. His expression carries a weight of concern, as if he’s shielding you from the painful truth that might follow.

As the silence lingers, you press further, your voice a whisper weighted with apprehension. “Is he... back with Deiji?” The words hang heavy in the air, fraught with a mix of dread and longing for a truth you're not sure you're ready to confront.

Yoongi’s features contort into a mask of sorrow, his gaze drifting downward to the grains of sand within the pen, as if seeking solace in the mundane. “You shouldn’t hurt yourself with questions like this,” he murmurs, his tone heavy with empathy and resignation. “But no, Jimin is still very single.”

The revelation doesn’t exactly lift the weight from your heart, though it's a relief knowing he’s not rushing back into Deiji’s embrace. Still, a melancholic ache persists, knowing that things have unfolded this way.

Yoongi’s words land like a gentle breeze, stirring a mix of emotions within you. “You know,” he confides, his tone carrying a thread of hope. “Jimin misses you a lot. He talks about you everyday. He wishes that you’ll change your mind and come back home.” As his gaze meets your weary eyes, a glimmer of optimism dances in his own.

Tears have become an unwelcome companion, tracing silent rivers down your cheeks, staining your pillow with the remnants of your sorrow. Night after night, you find solace in the lullaby of tears, until even your sister’s concern casts a shadow upon your weary soul. Your eyes, once bright with laughter, now betray the weight of your heartache, swollen and heavy with the burden of your grief. Yet, in the face of it all, you couldn’t summon the energy to care.

You draw in a shuddering breath, grappling with the tempest of emotions swirling within you. “I miss him too,” you admit, your voice quivering with raw honesty. “But I can’t bear the thought of being in a relationship with him, not with his child on the way with another woman.”

You release a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of exhaustion and emotional turmoil. Every task seems monumental, even the simplest ones, and just coaxing yourself out of bed feels like an uphill battle. A tear teeters on the edge of your waterline, a silent testament to the inner turmoil gnawing at your soul. Desperate to divert your thoughts from Jimin's memory, you draw in a deep breath and pivot the conversation. “You and Hoseok seem really happy,” you remark, attempting to steer the dialogue towards a lighter topic.

A gentle chuckle ripples from Yoongi’s lips beside you, a soothing sound amidst the heaviness of your emotions. He senses your need for a reprieve and graciously allows the shift in conversation. “Was that a question or a statement?” he quips, his laughter like a beacon guiding you away from the shadows of sadness, urging your weary spirit back towards the light.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, a brief respite from the weight of your thoughts. “Definitely a statement,” you reply with a hint of self-awareness, the sound of your laughter mingling with the breeze, carrying a fleeting moment of lightness through the heavy air.

“We are happy,” Yoongi affirms, a genuine smile spreading across his face, revealing the warmth in his eyes. Together, you observe Hoseok’s movements with the gray horse below, the sight of him successfully saddling the animal a testament to his skill and patience.

“That’s great. I’m so happy for you, Yoongi,” you express, mustering a smile, though it lacks the usual sparkle that once defined it.

“Thank you. But I can see it’s tough for you,” he starts, his gaze probing yours, seeking something elusive, something you're not quite sure of.

You brush off his concern with a casual flick of your hand. “I put myself in this situation,” you say, the weight of your words heavier than you intended.

You slump further against the fence, sinking into the sanctuary of your own fragile thoughts.

Hoseok remains focused on the horse, his movements fluid and purposeful, while Yoongi stands steadfast beside you, his arm enveloping you in a comforting embrace, a reassuring anchor amidst the tumult of your thoughts.

“Thank you Yoongi,” You express your gratitude to Yoongi with a heartfelt whisper, leaning into his comforting presence. His embrace is a sanctuary, enveloping you in warmth and the refreshing scent of mint, a soothing balm to your troubled soul.

“What for?” With a soft chuckle, Yoongi queries, his voice laced with genuine curiosity.

“For always being there for me,” You utter, your voice laced with profound gratitude. The weight of your words hangs in the air, a testament to the depth of your appreciation for his unwavering friendship.

The relentless sun beats down upon you as you toil alongside Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin, laboring to scrub clean the water trough for the cattle in a distant paddock. Beads of sweat form rivulets on your brow, and you futilely attempt to brush them away with the hem of your shirt, but the relentless heat refuses to relent.

The scorching heat bears down upon you relentlessly as you vigorously scrub away at the trough, determined to rid it of its slimy residue, accumulated grime, and encrusted grease. Each stroke of the brush is a testament to your commitment, knowing full well the vital importance of this cleaning ritual to ensure the cattle’s access to pristine water during their time in the paddock.

“Don’t you think it’s time to move on?” Ara’s words pierce through the haze of your thoughts, jolting you out of the cocoon of self-pity you’ve wrapped yourself in.

Beside you, Soo-ah and Ha-rin exchange startled gasps, their synchronized reaction prompting you to arch an eyebrow in curiosity, silently urging Ara to continue.

“That’s so inconsiderate of you to say, Ara!” Soo-ah’s reprimand cuts through the air, her words laced with a protective edge, while Ha-rin’s support echoes her sentiment, amplifying the intensity of the moment.

“What? But she seems so miserable, Jimin too, why don’t you just work it out?” Ara’s voice carries genuine concern, wrapped in a gentle tone, yet it strikes a nerve within you. You sense her good intentions, but the thought of rehashing your struggles yet again feels draining. With a heavy exhale, you opt for silence, allowing your frustration to seep out in a weary sigh.

“Don’t you think she would work it out with him, if she wanted to?” Ha-rin’s words cut through the humid air, laced with a hint of frustration as she vigorously scrubs the steel trough. It’s a valid question, one that resonates with the unspoken doubts lingering in your mind. You ponder her inquiry, the rhythmic sound of metal against metal providing a backdrop to your internal turmoil.

It’s a surreal sensation, like eavesdropping on a conversation about your own life from a distance. Their words hang heavy in the air, echoing the unspoken complexities of your situation. You stand there, a silent observer to your own narrative, grappling with the strange disconnect between your presence and their discussion.

Ara’s voice rises, her words infused with a desperate plea for understanding. But like, last time they didn’t talk for months and it was just a stupid misunderstanding,” she insists, her eyes searching for empathy among her companions.

Soo-ah interjects with a firm tone, “Do you even comprehend the sheer effort it takes to raise a child?” she questions, her gaze piercing. “If she’s not prepared for that responsibility, then she’s simply not ready.”

It feels funny, how they are talking about you and Jimin, you might as well say something.

The scrubbing of the trough halts abruptly as you pivot towards Ara, your expression a mix of vulnerability and resolve. “It’s not that we aren’t talking,” you begin, your voice carrying the weight of your emotions. “We still communicate, but it’s the sight of Deiji that stings the most. Knowing they’re expecting a child together... it’s hard not to feel consumed by jealousy,” you confess, the words heavy with raw honesty.

Ara’s eyes soften with understanding, her nod a silent acknowledgment of the tumult of emotions you're navigating. “It sounds like you want a child of your own, with Jimin,” she ventures, her words carrying a gentle empathy that resonates with your innermost desires and fears.

Ha-rin’s reaction is a blend of admonishment and hushing as she playfully nudges Ara’s arm, silently urging her to tread carefully while also chiding her for broaching a sensitive topic.

“I’m not entirely certain about having children,” you start, your words measured and tinged with uncertainty, “but raising someone else’s child is certainly not what I imagined or wanted to do.”

Soo-ah and Ha-rin exchange understanding nods. “Do you think you might change your mind later?” Ha-rin inquires gently, her voice carrying a tone of empathy as she continues with her task.

You pause, mulling over her question for a moment, before responding thoughtfully, “I’m not entirely sure... perhaps. It’s just... I can’t quite envision how it would all come together, you know?”

“I just... when I envision Jimin embracing fatherhood, cherishing that little girl of his soon entering the world, it’s her child, not mine,” you sigh in frustration, yet oddly finding a glimmer of relief in the honesty of your words.

“So you’re jealous that it’s not going to be your child?” Ara teases beside you, prompting a scolding glare from Soo-ah.

“You just said you didn’t want kids, but now you say you do... make up your mind,” Ara adds, rolling her eyes in a playful yet challenging manner.

“She doesn’t want Deiji’s kid, can’t you get that?” Soo-ah says, coming to your defense once more, her voice firm with conviction.

“Guys! I’m just not sure I want kids, period. Why can’t I be undecided on this?” Your words hang heavy in the air, a plea for understanding, as you return to the task of scrubbing the trough with a vigor that betrays your inner turmoil.

“Yeah. Let’s not badger her, okay?” Ha-rin’s voice cuts through the tension like a soothing balm, her gentle plea for empathy echoing your own sentiments. You catch her soft gaze, a silent acknowledgment of her understanding, offering a momentary respite from the probing questions.

“But can I say something?” Her demeanor shifts with a mix of hesitance and determination, her gaze seeking reassurance before she speaks. You offer a nod, granting her the space to voice her thoughts, curious about what might follow.

“You still love Jimin and he still loves you— don’t you think you could focus on that, and just like, not focus on the kid?” Her words hang in the air, a delicate plea woven with threads of hope and uncertainty. You feel a pang of longing as she speaks, her sincerity piercing through the heaviness of the situation. Despite the weight of her suggestion, you can't help but consider the possibility buried within her question.

As her words sink in, you find yourself grappling with a newfound perspective. The idea of focusing on your enduring love for Jimin rather than fixating on the looming presence of a child is both liberating and daunting. It’s a notion you’ve never entertained before, a ray of light piercing through the clouds of uncertainty that have engulfed you. Could it be that the solution to your turmoil lies in embracing the love that binds you, rather than allowing fear to drive you apart?

Each stroke of the brush across the canvas feels like a dance, a rhythmic movement driven by the whirlwind of thoughts swirling through your mind. Jimin’s presence looms large in your thoughts, refusing to be ignored or pushed aside. Ha-rin’s words echo in your ears, a gentle reminder to reconsider your perspective. As you ponder the notion of shifting your focus away from Jimin’s impending fatherhood, you can’t help but feel a glimmer of hope flicker within you. Could it be that amidst the chaos of uncertainty, there lies a path illuminated by the enduring flame of love?

You remain ensnared in the labyrinth of uncertainty, grappling with the weight of your emotions and the intricacies of your relationship. The truth is a bitter pill to swallow: Jimin’s impending fatherhood would inevitably redefine the contours of your relationship, demanding a portion of his time and attention that you would never begrudge. Yet, amidst the tangle of doubts and fears, a flicker of understanding begins to dawn. Perhaps, in the vast expanse of love, there exists room for compromise, for navigating the labyrinth together, hand in hand.

The question lingers in the depths of your soul, a haunting refrain echoing through the corridors of your mind: are you truly prepared for it all?

Ready to become someone’s mother. Step mother?

Ready to raise a child?

Yet, can you truly provide a nurturing environment for a child if one of the adults harbors resentment towards their presence?

You understand it’s not the child’s fault, but the mere thought of it being Deiji’s offspring churns your stomach. You harbor an intense dislike for her, and a nagging suspicion still lingers, whispering that she’s up to something.

You’ve never laid eyes on any proof of the paternity test, and the unsettling thought lingers: did Jimin even ask to see it? Perhaps it's time to broach that topic with him.

As you reminisce about the warmth and intimacy you once shared with Jimin, a wave of melancholy washes over you, leaving you adrift in a sea of longing. Doubts creep in, questioning the wisdom of your choices. Should you have held onto what you had with him, despite the challenges?

The canvas before you mirrors the tumult within, a chaotic blend of muddy hues—gray, brown, beige, and dark blue—an unexpected abstraction of your inner turmoil. It’s a reflection of your tangled thoughts, much like the surprise abstract painting that has emerged from your brush. Yet, beneath the layers of color, a longing persists. You ache to create something different, something infused with the joy of yesteryears—perhaps the serene landscapes that once graced your canvas. Yet, as you realize nearly a year has passed since your return to the ranch, a flood of memories rushes in, dominated by thoughts of Jimin.

Oh, how you wish things were different.

On an unassuming day, bathed in sunlight, you find yourself quietly eating breakfast in the kitchen, lost in your own solemn musings. Suddenly, the tranquility is shattered as Jungkook steps into the room, jolting you out of your reverie.

You’re acutely aware that since parting ways with Jimin, you’ve been teetering on the brink of depression. It was a painful but necessary decision to safeguard your shattered heart. Yet, despite your efforts to protect yourself, you’re haunted by the gnawing realization that no matter what path you choose, your heart remains irreparably broken.

“Hey,” he greets you with a warm smile, but as you return the gesture, your own smile falls short of matching his infectious happiness. Your gaze lingers on him, curiosity piqued as you notice something clutched in his hand. Why is he carrying a letter?

“How are you doing?” he inquires, and you respond with a bitter chuckle. Can’t he see how you’re doing? You’re well aware of your appearance, having been reminded by your sister that you look like a mess. The truth is, you’re consumed by a constant sadness, and you’ve exhausted all your energy trying to conceal it.

“I feel like shit,” you admit, opting for raw honesty because pretending otherwise seems futile. Jungkook knows you well, understands the depth of your pain stemming from the breakup with his brother.

He offers you a reassuring smile, closing the distance between you as he gently places the white envelope on the table. Your eyes drift down to it, and you immediately recognize your name scrawled across it in familiar handwriting—it’s Jimin’s.

“This is from my brother,” he murmurs, his nerves palpable as he scratches the back of his head, causing you to shift your gaze between him and the letter, your mind racing with anticipation. What could possibly be contained within? Will it offer solace or inflict further pain? The uncertainty grips you tightly, leaving you on edge.

“Can’t he speak for himself?” You question, a hint of frustration seeping into your voice as your fingers hover over the letter, finally grasping it to inspect its contents.

“He’s torn about whether to give you space or not,” Jungkook confides, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “And he has no idea that I snatched the letter.”

Your eyes widen as you fix your gaze on him. “Are you sure I should read this then?” You inquire, a hint of apprehension creeping into your voice. “Maybe Jimin doesn’t want me to read it.”

Jungkook offers you a gentle smile. “It’s fine,” he reassures, his tone laced with determination. “If he gets mad, it’s on me. But you need to read it. I’m tired of seeing you both suffer like this.”

With those words, he leaves you to grapple with your thoughts and the letter, its edges slightly crumpled, a testament to the turmoil it contains. Your heart pounds in your chest, your mind weighed down by a heavy burden, and your eyes dry from the countless tears shed. You resolve to open the letter, sliding it out slowly; its handwritten contents are adorned with dried tears, each smudge a poignant reminder of the emotions woven into every word. Even before you begin to read, a lump forms in your throat, and your vision blurs with the tears welling up in your eyes.

Despite your trembling hands and the overwhelming emotions coursing through you, you summon every ounce of courage within you. With a determined resolve, you steady your gaze and immerse yourself in every heart-wrenching word penned by Jimin in his letter.

My love,

You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you more than words can express, and the ache of missing you is a constant companion. I’m deeply sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. No apology could ever capture the depth of my remorse for hurting you repeatedly. My heart weighs heavy with regret, and I want you to know how truly sorry I am. I wish I could undo the hurt I’ve caused. I understand that you may not be ready for motherhood, and I would never want to pressure you into anything. But I hold onto hope that we can find our way back to each other. I love you endlessly, and the thought of being apart is unbearable. I know I don’t deserve your kindness and forgiveness, but please, consider giving me another chance. You are my everything, and I long for us to be reunited.

With all my love and remorse,

Jimin

As your tears mingle with Jimin’s on the page, your heart aches with a poignant mix of love and pain. Despite the hurt he’s caused, your love for him remains unwavering, yet it’s accompanied by the uncertainty of whether you’re prepared for motherhood. However, amidst the turmoil, a flicker of hope ignites within you—perhaps, just perhaps, you can find the strength to be ready for that journey with him.

You sense the weight of your thoughts pressing down, suffocating you. There’s an urgency to clear your mind, to escape the labyrinth of your own making. And you know precisely what remedy awaits: a ride. Out onto the sprawling expanse of land surrounding your ranch, where the wind whispers secrets and the horizon stretches endlessly. It’s your sanctuary, your refuge from the turmoil within—a chance to lose yourself in the rhythm of hoofbeats and the vastness of the world beyond.

Typically, when you saddle up, the chaos in your mind settles, and you allow yourself to sink into the serenity of the natural world, letting the rhythm of hoofbeats replace the cacophony of thoughts.

That’s why you find yourself in the barn, carefully saddling Mikrokosmos, feeling the familiar weight of the leather in your hands, the comforting scent of hay and wood surrounding you. With each buckle tightened and each strap secured, a sense of anticipation builds within you. Leading Mikrokosmos out of the barn, you’re eager to immerse yourself in the healing embrace of nature, seeking solace in the rhythmic cadence of hoofbeats and the whispering winds.

With a steady breath, you slide your foot into the stirrup, feeling the familiar weight of your body settling into the saddle. As you swing your leg over, a surge of anticipation courses through you, mingling with the raw energy emanating from Mikrokosmos. With a gentle nudge of your heels, you coax her into motion, feeling the power of her muscles ripple beneath you as she eagerly responds to your command, propelling both of you forward into the boundless expanse of the open land.

With each rhythmic beat of Mikrokosmos’ hooves against the earth, you surrender to the wild abandon of the ride, seeking solace in the untamed beauty of the landscape unfurling before you. Away from the suffocating grip of memories and uncertainties, you allow the wind to carry away the weight of your burdens, embracing the freedom of the open horizon as you ride further into the unknown.

As the wind weaves through your hair, its gentle touch whispers a symphony of freedom, entwining with the rhythmic melody of Mikrokosmos’ hooves tearing through the earth. With each stride, she paints the landscape with her fervent dance, sending plumes of dust swirling into the air. In the harmony of nature’s cadence, your spirit soars, liberated from the weight of doubt and longing. Each thunderous beat of her hooves resonates with the pounding rhythm of your heart.

Surrendering to the rush of wind and the pounding of hooves, you relinquish the burdens that have tethered your soul, allowing them to scatter like leaves in the breeze, if only for a fleeting moment.

As the sky transforms from serene blue to ominous gray, then to the cloak of night pierced by flashes of lightning, you sense the electricity in the air mirrored by Mikrokosmos’ subtle twitch, a silent acknowledgment of nature’s impending fury.

As the thunderclouds gather with ominous intent, you’re acutely aware of the danger of being caught in the open during a storm. Lost in the vast expanse, you realize with a sinking feeling that you’ve ventured too far to return before the tempest strikes. Yet, the urgency to seek shelter pushes you onward, driven by the instinct to find safety amidst the approaching chaos.

Amidst the dense foliage, you urgently guide Mikrokosmos, a steadfast companion in the tumultuous terrain. Suddenly, a deafening rumble ruptures the air, and the heavens ignite with a blinding flash. Your loyal steed startles, veering sharply as a nearby tree becomes a target for the furious lightning. With lightning’s crackle still echoing, Mikrokosmos rears in panic, jolting you from the saddle. You plummet to the earth, pain searing through your body upon impact, a harsh reminder of nature's unforgiving power. Fuck it hurts.

Mikrokosmos, wide-eyed and trembling, lingers by your side, almost like she wants to make sure you’re okay. You extend a trembling hand in reassurance, craving the solace of her presence, but as another deafening thunderclap reverberates through the sky, she recoils in terror. With a swift and panicked motion, she breaks away, vanishing into the wilderness, leaving you alone amidst the storm’s fury.

“Mikrokosmos, come back!” Your voice echoes through the wilderness, a desperate plea swallowed by the roaring tempest. With each strained syllable, you feel the weight of your fear and frustration, your heart racing in sync with her retreating hoofbeats. As you struggle to rise, the sting of pain ignites along your spine, a harsh reminder of your vulnerability amidst nature's fury. Damn it - you should have prepared her for moments like these, should have been more vigilant in her training with sudden loud noises. Now, your failure looms large, a bitter taste of remorse in the storm's relentless assault.

As the rain pours down in relentless sheets and the sky is intermittently illuminated by flashes of lightning, she finds herself lost in worry. Hours have slipped by since her sister embarked on her ride, and with each passing minute, concern gnaws at her like a persistent ache. In the midst of such tumultuous weather, her sister should have returned by now.

Where could she be? What if something has gone wrong out there in the storm’s fury?

Anxious tendrils grip her as she leans in closer to Jungkook, her voice trembling with concern. “Kook, I’m really worried about my sister. She should have been back by now,” she confides, her words laced with a sense of urgency. Jungkook’s eyes widen in alarm, his grip tightening on the beer bottle as he absorbs her distress.

As she gazes out the window, her heart lurches at the sight of a panicked Mikrokosmos darting around the yard. “Mikrokosmos is running wild out there, but still no sign of my sister. This can’t be good,” she murmurs, urgency coloring her voice as she hastily slips into her boots and jacket. Sensing the gravity of the situation, Jungkook is right by her side, his expression mirroring her concern as they prepare to investigate.

Jessi manages to soothe Mikrokosmos, her fingers gently curling around the reins. “Easy, girl,” she murmurs, her voice a soft reassurance in the midst of the storm.

She strokes Mikrokosmos’ mane, her touch a comforting anchor in the chaos of the storm. “Easy, girl,” she whispers, her voice a soothing melody amidst the thunderous symphony. “Steady, now,” she repeats, her words a gentle plea for calmness.

She whirls around to face Jungkook, urgency etched across her features. “This isn’t good. Where’s my sister?” Her voice quivers with worry, each word punctuated by the pounding rain outside, echoing the frantic beat of her heart.

Jungkook pivots, his eyes widening at the sight of Soo-ah hurtling from her cottage. “What’s Mikrokosmos doing here alone?” His voice is laced with concern, mirroring the panic in Soo-ah’s expression.

Jessi relinquishes the reins to Soo-ah, her voice trembling with worry. “I think something has happened to my sister, otherwise Mikrokosmos wouldn’t be here alone. Can you please take her into the stables, calm her down, and we’ll search for my sister?”

Soo-ah seizes the reins with determination and offers Jessi a firm nod, leading Mikrokosmos over to the stables. Jessi’s expression is etched with concern as she turns to Jungkook, her brow furrowed in deep distress.

“Let’s go look for her, she shouldn’t be out in this weather,” With urgency etched in his voice, he clasps her hand firmly, a silent promise of support. Together, they hustle to his truck, determination fueling their actions as they race back to Bell Ranch, intent on rallying more help to find you.

They dash through the rain-drenched yard, urgency in each step as they burst into the house where Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi lounge in front of the TV, oblivious to the mounting concern etched on Jungkook and Jessi’s faces.

Urgency floods Jungkook’s voice as he interrupts their tranquility. “Guys, Jess’ sister is missing. We need your help to find her,” he implores, his words slicing through the calm of the room like a thunderbolt.

Jimin’s muscles tense, his expression darkening with concern as his heart quickens its pace. Yoongi springs from the couch with such urgency that he should feel lightheaded. In a synchronized rush, the trio leaps into action, snatching up their boots and jackets.

The weather outside is relentless, the midday darkness accentuated by the unyielding rain and gray skies, enveloping everything in a shroud of cold, damp chill.

Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension, his hand already reaching for the keys to his truck. “Should we split into groups of two or three?” he suggests, urgency lacing his words like a silent plea for swift action.

Jessi’s voice holds authority, her words cutting through the air like a command. “I think two are fine,” she concedes, her tone firm and resolute. “But you’re not driving.” Her finger jabs towards Jimin, swiftly snatching the keys from his grasp and passing them to Yoongi with an unyielding resolve.

Jimin’s expression shifts from disbelief to begrudging acceptance as he grapples with Jessi’s unexpected assertion. Despite his initial astonishment, a flicker of understanding ignites within him, and he obediently trails after his brother and Jessi, braving the torrential rain outside.

Yoongi and Hoseok climb into Jimin’s trusty blue truck, equipped with a walkie-talkie in hand, their fingers poised to establish a connection with Jungkook, Jimin, and Jessi in the other vehicle. As they settle in, the anticipation in the air is palpable, their shared determination driving them forward into the unknown.

Yoongi’s voice crackles over the walkie-talkie, edged with concern, as he asks, “Do we have any idea which direction she might have gone?” His words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of uncertainty, echoing the urgency of their search.

Jessi’s voice crackles with determination over the line as she directs the plan, “We’re clueless about her direction. Let’s split up – you take the eastern side, we’ll cover the western.” Meanwhile, Jungkook twists the key in the ignition, setting the window wipers to a frantic rhythm. Jimin, gripped by worry, perches on the edge of his seat in the back, craning forward over the center console to scan the rain-soaked landscape ahead.

They embark on their respective routes, traversing the treacherous terrain of the rugged hills. The landscape is unyielding, but the sturdy trucks with four-wheel drive prove to be invaluable companions. Jungkook guides their vehicle with practiced precision, a stark contrast to the frantic urgency of their previous search when Jessi was missing. This time, he maneuvers cautiously, each movement deliberate, mindful of the perilous conditions and determined to avoid any mishaps.

Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension in the truck's cabin, his impatience palpable. “Can’t you drive faster?” he urges his brother from the back seat, his anxiety mounting with each passing moment.

Jungkook’s tone carries a hint of frustration as he scuffs, “No, this terrain isn’t really made for fast driving. And relax. We’ll find her,” his words a gentle reassurance amidst the mounting worry.

Jimin huffs impatiently in the back seat, realizing there’s nothing much to do but wait until they find you. Each passing moment heightens his concern, hoping against hope that you’re safe amidst the storm and uncertainty.

Jessi turns to Jimin, her voice cutting through the tense atmosphere in the truck. “That ring you bought a while back, is it just collecting dust, or do you plan on giving it to her soon?” Her directness adds another layer of urgency to the situation, hinting at the unresolved emotions lingering between him and you.

Jungkook chuckles beside her, a brief moment of lightness amidst the tension, yet his gaze remains fixed on the rugged path ahead, emphasizing the gravity of the situation they’re in.

Jimin stumbles over his words, his voice strained with uncertainty. “I just don’t think now’s the right time,” he admits, his words tinged with the weight of recent events. “This whole thing with Deiji and then your sister breaking up with me, I don’t think it would be appropriate.” His voice trails off, the unfinished sentence hanging heavy with unspoken emotions.

She scoffs, her tone laced with incredulity. “Appropriate?” Her disbelief echoes through the cabin, challenging Jimin’s hesitation with a raw intensity.

She turns her whole body in her seat to face Jimin, her eyes ablaze with urgency. “I’m sorry, but this whole thing with Deiji is hella suspicious. And you love my sister, right? She loves you too. She’s almost sick, because she broke up with you, did you know that?” Her words hang heavy in the air, charged with a blend of concern and accusation, demanding a response from Jimin.

Jimin’s eyes widen at her words, a mix of surprise and guilt flashing across his face, but he remains silent, his thoughts swirling like a tempestuous sea, grappling with the weight of her accusations.

“She doesn’t eat properly anymore. She’s lost weight, she’s not sleeping— shall I keep going?” She crosses her arms, her voice edged with a mixture of concern and frustration. This whole thing just makes her mad. She hates seeing her favorite people hurt like this, consumed by a storm of emotions that threatens to engulf them both.

“Oh, did you know she cries herself to sleep every night?” she adds, her voice trembling with a mix of hurt and vulnerability, as if she’s revealing a secret that should have remained buried.

Jimin’s breath catches at her revelation, his eyes widening in shock. “I didn’t know,” he admits, his voice tinged with guilt and regret.

“Listen, I don’t know why she can’t talk to you,” Jessi continues, her tone a blend of frustration and concern. “But having Deiji around makes it incredibly tough for her— and I’m not suggesting you abandon her or your future child. However, finding a balance that allows space for my sister without causing her this kind of pain might be worth considering.”

“But she’s made it clear she’s not ready for kids,” Jimin murmurs, his voice barely audible over the increasingly rough terrain.

“It’s not just any kid, Jimin, it’s hers, for heaven’s sake! Can’t you see the weight of that?” she practically scolds him, her voice firm and resounding with frustration.

Jimin is rendered speechless—his mind swirling with conflicting emotions, leaving him utterly at a loss for words.

“You really hurt her when you started dating Deiji, you know. When you shut her out, assuming she was with Yoongi,” she adds, her voice laced with a raw intensity, fighting for you, voicing the unspoken turmoil you’re grappling with. “She loves you deeply, but I’m certain Deiji triggers memories she’d rather bury.” She pivots back, her tone searing with frustration. “And why the fuck would you do that? Why couldn’t you just talk to her?”

Jimin’s gaze locks onto hers, his eyes widening with a mixture of remorse and vulnerability, as if on the brink of tears. “I know I behaved poorly. I—I don’t know, I was just consumed by jealousy. I know I was petty.”

Jessi nods, her expression softening with empathy. “See, you were jealous and didn’t speak to her. Now she’s jealous and doesn’t speak to you. Do you see a pattern here?” Her words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of truth, urging Jimin to confront the echoes of his own actions.

Jimin nods, his heart heavy with a mix of gratitude and remorse, appreciating both the insight and the gentle reprimand from Jessi.

“Now. If you don’t get your shit together and talk to her, I’m going to ask your little brother to beat your ass up,” she teases, a playful grin lighting up her face. Her hand finds its way to his thigh, a reassuring squeeze emphasizing her point. “But seriously, she’s going to be alright, and you’re going to talk to her.”

Jungkook’s laughter fills the truck cabin, and Jimin nervously bites his lip, but he nods in acknowledgment to your sister’s words. He’s well aware that he needs to have that conversation with you, even though attempts in the past have been met with avoidance on your part. It’s clear that seeing Deiji has been a trigger for you, and the realization hits him hard. He's caused you so much pain, put you through hell, and it's a weight he can't bear. This isn’t how it should be, and he knows he needs to find a way to make things right.

As the rain continues to pour relentlessly, the passage of time becomes a blur, lost in the rhythm of the storm pounding against the truck's windshield.

“Have you had any luck?” Jessi’s voice crackles through the walkie talkie, a lifeline in the storm, as she eagerly seeks any sign of hope or progress.

“Not yet.” Yoongi's voice cuts through the static, tinged with a hint of frustration, indicating the ongoing struggle and the uncertainty of the situation.

Suddenly, Jimin’s voice crackles with urgency, breaking the tension in the truck. “I think I see something—over there, by that bush!” His finger jabs towards a dark figure, barely discernible amidst the downpour, a beacon of hope in the relentless storm.

Jungkook steers the truck towards the figure, the engine growling with determination. As they draw nearer, their headlights cutting through the rain, the silhouette resolves into a familiar form—there you are, huddled against the elements, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, each tremble echoing their worry.

With a surge of relief, Jessi flips on the walkie talkie, her voice slicing through the storm like a beacon of hope. “We’ve found her!” Her words, charged with emotion, resonate through the static, breaking through the tension like a ray of sunlight through dark clouds.

Yoongi’s voice carries a wave of relief, cutting through the tension like a soothing melody. “Thank god,” he exhales, his words echoing the collective sentiment of the group, a chorus of gratitude amid the storm’s fury.

Despite the lingering heat, your body trembles, a stark contrast to the relentless downpour that now subsides, replaced by a calm silence broken only by the soft patter of raindrops.

In the distance, headlights cut through the gloom, bouncing over the rugged landscape, gradually growing larger and clearer. As the familiar black truck draws near, a wave of relief floods your weary and trembling form, soothing your frayed nerves.

The truck grinds to a halt just a stone’s throw away, and in an instant, three figures spill out onto the rain-soaked earth: Jungkook, your steadfast sister, and Jimin, his urgency palpable in every stride.

Jimin sprints to your side with an urgency that echoes his concern, his strides propelled by an undeniable determination. His embrace envelops you, a reassuring anchor amidst the storm. “How are you holding up?” he implores, his voice a blend of worry and relief. You offer a nonchalant shrug, masking the turmoil within. “Could be worse,” you reply, your words betraying the weight of your ordeal.

Your sister’s gaze scans you intently, her eyes mapping every contour, searching for any sign of harm. “What happened?” she inquires, her voice edged with concern. “Mikrokosmos returned without you.” Her words hang in the air, punctuated by the gravity of the situation, each syllable laden with the weight of unanswered questions and looming danger.

“The thunder spooked her and I fell off,” you explain, feeling Jimin’s firm hand pulling you upright. The words spill from your lips, mingling with the pattering rain as you recount the moment of panic and disarray.

“Any injuries?” He inquires, his eyes scanning you with the same meticulous care as your sister had done moments before. Yet, to your relief, there isn’t a single scratch or bruise to be found on your body.

“I-I just feel sore,” you manage, your voice tinged with discomfort, the chill of the rain making your words stutter slightly. Jimin immediately envelops you in his arms once more, leading you gently towards his brother’s truck. Your sister, too, lends her support, her gaze fixed on you with concern. As you glance down, you catch a glimmer from her left hand, and there, amidst the rain, you spot something sparkling.

“What’s that?” You inquire, your voice a mixture of curiosity and exhaustion as they guide you back towards the truck, their arms offering steadying support.

“What?” your sister inquires, her brows furrowing slightly as she holds the door open for you to climb into the backseat.

“That ring on your finger,” you observe, noting the flush creeping up her cheeks. She attempts to conceal her hand, but it’s too late—you’ve already caught sight of it. With gentle insistence, you grasp her hand and bring it closer for inspection. A delicate gold band adorned with a simple white stone gleams in the dim light, its beauty striking you. Glancing at Jungkook, you’re met with a tender expression, silently affirming the significance of the moment.

“You proposed to her?” You inquire, your voice catching on the brink of tears, emotions swirling within you—a mix of overwhelming joy and heartfelt sentiment.

His laughter dances in the air as he admits, “I did,” his grin radiating warmth, all while your sister playfully attempts to wrest her hand from your firm grasp.

“When did this happen?” Inquisitively, you pivot between them, anticipation lacing your voice. Their eyes momentarily break contact, drawn down to the damp earth beneath them, as if searching for the right words amidst the glistening droplets.

“A week ago,” Her admission comes in a hushed tone, tinged with a hint of regret, the weight of secrecy palpable in the air. It's as though the words have been lodged in her throat for days, finally finding release, yet carrying with them the burden of silence she bore for an entire week.

“And you didn’t tell me?” You exhale a mix of disbelief and hurt, your incredulous gaze bouncing between them like a pinball in motion. Reluctantly, you yield to Jimin and your sister's gentle insistence, allowing them to guide you into the shelter of the backseat, away from the relentless downpour. With a comforting presence, Jimin settles beside you, while your sister and Jungkook join you in the truck, cocooning you in a blend of warmth and unspoken apologies.

“We wanted to tell you,” your sister starts, her voice carrying a blend of sincerity and hesitation, mingling with the hum of the engine as Jungkook maneuvers the truck down the hill, steering back towards home.“We just didn’t want to make you sad, so I didn’t wear the ring, until today…” she continues, her eyes betraying a sadness mirrored in your own conflicted emotions. You wrestle with the complexity of her consideration, torn between gratitude for her sensitivity and the ache of your own hidden sorrow. After all, shouldn’t you be thrilled for them? Yet, beneath the surface, your heart echoes with a quieter, more personal ache, one that whispers of your own unspoken battles with sadness and despair.

“Why would you make me sad? It makes me sad that you’ve been hiding it from me,” you lament, a tinge of frustration coloring your words as you grapple with the chill seeping through your sodden attire, clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Each droplet feels like a weight, echoing the heaviness of the withheld truth, leaving you to mire in a mix of emotions, neither warm nor settled.

Sensing your shivers, Jimin swiftly sheds his jacket, enfolding you in its warmth with a tender gesture, a shield against the biting cold that had crept beneath your skin.

“I only wanted to spare you from pain,” your sister’s voice softens, regret lacing each syllable as she meets your gaze, her words heavy with remorse. “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

You nod, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Despite the sadness clouding your heart, you grasp onto the flicker of happiness for your loved ones. It sucks that she didn’t tell you, but you do understand why she did it.

Your gaze shifts to Jimin, a whirlwind of unspoken words swirling within you, a thousand thoughts clamoring for attention. Each thought jostles for prominence, yet amidst the chaos, you find yourself lost in the labyrinth of your own mind, grappling with the weight of unsaid feelings, uncertain where to begin or how to articulate the storm raging within.

“Thank you for the jacket,” Gratitude tumbles from your lips for the jacket, a feeble attempt to bridge the chasm of silence that has grown between you, though its weight feels heavier with unspoken tension. There’s an unfamiliar air, thick with unresolved emotions, a palpable unease that lingers like an unwelcome guest. You’ve been avoiding him, grappling with the aftermath of your decision to end things, haunted by the specter of his past relationship and the fragility of your own heart, torn between the longing for reconciliation and the fear of further heartbreak.

“You’re welcome. And I’m sorry,” Jimin murmurs, his gaze a tender caress as he studies you intently, as if attempting to decipher the intricate layers of your being. You can’t help but wonder if he notices the shadows beneath your eyes, heavier now than before, or if he sees the telltale signs of your daily tears etched upon your swollen, puffy face. Does he perceive the subtle changes in your physique, the way your clothes hang looser, mirroring the weight of your burdened heart? In the depths of his gaze, you question if he glimpses the essence of your soul, the silent yearning for his touch, for the rekindling of his boundless love that once enveloped you in warmth and security.

“What for?” You inquire, a soft sniffle punctuating your words, yet your gaze remains unwavering, locked onto the depths of his captivating brown eyes. In that moment, a wave of longing washes over you, the realization of your own foolishness crashing against the shores of your consciousness. You’ve yearned for him in his absence, now understanding the foolishness of your pride. Love pulses within you, a beacon amidst the stormy seas of doubt, begging the question: shouldn't love be reason enough? Isn't it the only thing that truly matters in the end?

“For treating you so poorly. For every misstep, every hurtful word, every moment of silence that drove a wedge between us, for dating Deiji, for not realizing how much it all has hurt you,” he confesses, his voice a fragile whisper teetering on the edge of remorse. Tears glisten in his eyes, a testament to the depth of his regret. His trembling hand finds solace in the curve of your cheek, tenderly cupping it as if to anchor himself amidst the tempest of his emotions. You yield to his touch, the warmth and softness of his hand a balm to your wounded soul, melting away the barriers that had stood between you, allowing you to surrender to the familiar comfort of his embrace.

“I’ve been unbelievably foolish, and I’m utterly sorry,” his voice catches in his throat, the weight of his remorse evident as a tear breaks free from his lashes, tracing a silent path down his cheek. “I never meant to hurt you like this,” he confesses, each word heavy with regret. “I love you so much,” he whispers, the depth of his affection echoing in the tremor of his voice, a testament to the sincerity of his devotion.

“I know you broke up with me because you’re not ready to have kids, and I completely understand that,” his hand intertwines with yours, a lifeline in the tumult of emotions that swirl between you. His gaze searches yours, seeking understanding, seeking reassurance, perhaps seeking forgiveness. “But I can’t shake the feeling that we belong together— I want you back,” he confesses, his voice a soft plea tinged with hope. “I love you, and I believe in us. I never imagined this path for us, but I truly believe we can navigate it together,” he asserts, his grip on your hand tightening as if to anchor his resolve. “And the child, she’ll have her own home with Deiji,” he adds, a note of reassurance in his voice, as if to alleviate any concerns that lingered in your heart.

“I got your letter,” you murmur, your tone laden with emotion, observing the shock that washes over his face.

“How?” His voice quivers slightly, betraying the turmoil raging within him, and a pang of guilt washes over you as you realize you probably shouldn’t have read the letter, especially since he didn’t give it to you personally.

Your gaze shifts towards Jungkook, and Jimin instinctively follows the direction of your eyes, noting the scuffs, before returning his attention to you. “I meant every word I wrote in it,” he declares, his tone unwavering despite the vulnerability in his eyes.

As you nod, waves of his love wash over you, intertwining with your own affection and flooding your veins with a warmth that knits together the fragments of your once-scattered heart.

Your heart flutters within its cage of ribs, caught in a dance of uncertainty and longing. His words resonate with you, stirring a flicker of hope in the depths of your soul, yet doubt lingers like a shadow at dusk. You’re torn, teetering on the precipice of indecision, but amidst the turmoil, one truth remains steadfast: your love for him burns unwaveringly, an eternal flame that illuminates the darkness of doubt. And in that flicker of certainty, you find solace, trusting that love, in all its complexities, will guide you through the labyrinth of uncertainty.

“Okay.” The word escapes your lips like a fragile whisper, hanging in the air like the delicate balance of a teetering scale. In the ensuing silence that envelops the truck, you observe the shift in Jimin’s expression, his features morphing into a silent query, a question mark etched upon his face, seeking to decipher the weight of your response and the myriad emotions swirling within you.

“What do you mean?” Jimin’s voice breaks the silence, tinged with confusion, his brows furrowing in bewilderment at your curt response. His inquiry hangs in the air, an invitation to unravel the enigma of your brief words, beckoning you to delve deeper into the intricacies of your thoughts and feelings.

“I want us to be together again,” you confess, your gaze locked with his, the shimmer of tears mirroring the depth of his remorse. Yet amidst the regret, his love for you radiates like a beacon, casting aside the shadows of doubt. You can’t deny the intensity of your own affection, a love that courses through your veins, unwavering and undeniable. It’s as if destiny itself has woven your souls together, an unbreakable bond that transcends time and distance, a truth you've known since the moment your eyes first met after all those years apart.

Without hesitation, Jimin closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a fervent embrace. The kiss is hurried, tinged with the salt of his tears, yet you savor every moment, for his touch ignites a fire within you, reigniting the vibrant hues of your world. In the warmth of his embrace, you feel the dull ache of sadness dissipate, replaced by the kaleidoscope of emotions that accompany the return of his affection. It’s as if life’s dull monochrome has been replaced with a symphony of colors, painting your world anew.

Rekindling your relationship with Jimin has been more than just good—it’s been a revival of your soul. With him by your side, you feel whole once more, the missing piece of your heart seamlessly slotting back into place. Despite the challenges that still loom on the horizon, you find solace in the simple truth that you have each other to rely on, to support and uplift in times of need.

As two full moons have passed, the looming prospect of Deiji’s imminent labor hangs heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the complexities that have woven themselves into your life. Despite the passage of time, your disdain for her remains unyielding, fueled by a nagging sense of distrust that refuses to be quelled. You’ve voiced your suspicions to Jimin, laying bare the unsettling behaviors that gnaw at your conscience—her reluctance to reveal the results of the paternity test, the cryptic details surrounding her medical appointments, the sudden refusal to allow Jimin to accompany her, especially after your request to see the test results. With each revelation, Jimin’s eyes begin to open to the unsettling truth lurking beneath Deiji’s facade.

A creeping suspicion takes root within you, whispering the unsettling possibility that Deiji’s claims may be nothing more than elaborate fabrications. The thought lingers like a shadow in your mind, casting doubt upon the foundation of your reality. While a part of you entertains the notion that perhaps she never carried Jimin’s child at all, the implications of such deceit weigh heavily upon your conscience. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, the idea that unraveling her web of lies could potentially simplify your life, yet the thought of the devastation it would bring to Jimin is a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between truth and consequence.

In the face of adversity, you and Jimin are actively striving to strengthen your communication skills, recognizing the tendency to retreat into your own worlds when challenges arise. Both of you understand the paramount importance of articulating your thoughts and feelings openly and honestly, realizing that true connection and understanding can only flourish in the fertile soil of effective communication.

And so, you find yourself once more within the comforting confines of his home, the tantalizing aroma of dinner wafting through the air, stirring your appetite and igniting a sense of eager anticipation. As hungry as you were during your previous visit, this time the atmosphere is charged with a newfound warmth and intimacy, infusing the meal with an extra layer of significance. With each bite, you’re not only nourishing your body but also savoring the love and care that your boyfriend has poured into the culinary creation before you.

“Jimin, this looks absolutely mouthwatering,” you exclaim, your fork poised eagerly above the food, ready to indulge in the culinary masterpiece before you.

“Thanks, I hope it tastes as good as it looks,” he replies, a radiant smile gracing his features as he joins you in savoring the meal he's prepared with care.

The first bite is an explosion of flavors on your palate, a symphony of tastes that dance and mingle, leaving you craving more. It’s a culinary masterpiece, each ingredient harmonizing perfectly to create a sensation that delights every sense. This incredible man’s cooking never fails to amaze, leaving you in awe of his talent and grateful for the privilege of tasting his creations.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” he interjects between bites, his expression thoughtful as he pauses to address the topic weighing on his thoughts.

Locked in a gaze brimming with boundless affection, you find yourself lost in the depths of his eyes, a silent exchange of love and understanding passing between you. With a gentle nod, you encourage him to continue, your heart swelling with anticipation for the words he’s about to share.

“I’ve been thinking about the arrival of the baby,” he begins, his eyes alight with curiosity, sparking a smile to bloom across your face in response. “Do you think we should prepare a special room for her? And where do you think she should be sleeping?”

“I believe she should start off in our room, close to us, but later she can get her own room” you propose, a smile gracing your lips as you envision the cozy arrangement.

“Hmm. Good idea. Thank you for being so cool about it and wanting to do it with me,” he expresses, his eyes shimmering with affection as he extends his hand across the table, silently inviting you to join him in this journey.

You cover his hand with yours, gently tracing circles on his skin as you speak softly, “I don’t know if I’d call it being cool, but I’m doing my best to navigate this new territory.” Despite the uncertainty looming ahead, you offer him a reassuring smile, knowing that embarking on this co-parenting journey will undoubtedly present challenges. Yet, with Jimin by your side, you feel a sense of strength and reassurance, a reminder that together, you can weather any storm.

“Well, thank you. It means everything to me,” he murmurs, his voice laden with gratitude as he leans across the table, closing the gap between you to plant a tender kiss on your lips.

You draw back slightly, your hands tenderly cradling his face, locking eyes with him as you whisper, “I love you, Jimin,” the words carrying the weight of your devotion and the promise of forever.

A warm smile graces his lips in response to your declaration, a silent acknowledgment of the deep love you share. Returning to your meal, a comfortable silence descends upon you both, enveloping you like a soft embrace, a tranquil refuge from the chaos of the world outside.

Raising your gaze, you wait patiently for his eyes to meet yours, the urgency of your words evident in your expression. “I truly believe you need to have a conversation with Deiji,” you urge, a sense of unease settling in your stomach. “There’s something off about all of this, something I can’t quite decipher,” you add, your voice laced with concern and the unspoken weight of intuition.

Jimin nods solemnly, his brows furrowing in concern. “You’re right. It’s been bothering me too. She’s been unresponsive to my texts lately,” he admits, his voice tinged with apprehension and a growing sense of unease.

“Perhaps it’s time to pay her a visit and have a heart-to-heart conversation,” you propose, a gentle smile gracing your lips.

“That sounds like a good idea,” he responds eagerly, his eyes alight with determination. With a renewed sense of purpose, you both continue to savor the meal, engaging in light-hearted conversation as you contemplate the impending discussion with Deiji.

For an entire week, communication between you and Jimin has been scarce, lost amidst the whirlwind of chores and responsibilities that accompany life on your respective ranches. From dawn till dusk, your days blur together with the relentless tasks of sheep shearing, cattle herding, and countless other duties demanding your attention. Exhaustion seeps into your bones, leaving little energy for anything beyond the essential exchanges of ‘goodbye’ and ‘good morning’ shared over the phone, a stark reminder of the physical and emotional toll of your demanding lifestyles.

Tonight is one of those nights when every muscle in your body aches with weariness, longing for the soothing touch of Jimin’s hands to unravel the knots of tension and stress that cling stubbornly to your frame. The thought of sinking into the warm embrace of his oversized bathtub offers a glimmer of solace amidst the weariness, a sanctuary where the trials of ranch life can be temporarily forgotten. Despite feeling battered and bruised, the exhaustion of the day weighs heavy upon you, dragging you into the welcoming arms of sleep within mere minutes.

You’re unsure of how long you’ve been lost in slumber, but a peculiar scent and an eerie sound stir you from your rest. As consciousness slowly returns, your head feels heavy and your senses are muddled, the faint aroma of something resembling a campfire teasing your nostrils. The source of the scent eludes you, shrouded in the fog of fatigue that clouds your mind, as the haunting creak of wood contracting fills the air, sending a shiver down your spine.

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 ❣️

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