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kingofbodyrolls · 3 months ago

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My Heart’s Home (m) | pjm | chapter 8

*this is a re-upload since I deleted my old account 🫣

With Jessi in a wheelchair you’ve taken on every task around the ranch, and finally realize how hard it is to run. But it’s a welcomed escape from Jimin, though it doesn’t help when Jungkook tries to push you two together again.

→ Pairings: jimin x reader (main) → Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. → AUs: ranch!au, slice of life!au, cowboy!au, soulmate!au → Genres: smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact! → Chapter warnings: mention of blood from a head wound, some blood from a cow giving birth and otherwise the standard angst and angriness. Yep, sorry again 😭 Things will somewhat start to look up in the next chapter!! ☀️ And if you feel like you need a reminder where the story is heading, read this spoiler 🫶 → Status: completed → Word count: 9.5k → Now playing “Love You, Hate You” by Rebecca Lavelle. → Author’s note: I really feel like I’m putting my characters through hell 😂 I really do feel bad for Jimin and MC — but we’re almost there!!!! (also, when do you think one of them will snap and finally talk to each other???). → Read on AO3? [link]

“Hate you, love you, want you and I need you It’s not easy It makes me cry Need you, want you, hate you Love you, need you, want you Gotta go, say goodbye, say goodbye” - ‘Love you, Hate you’ by Rebecca Lavelle

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Once more, Jungkook propels the car with an urgency that flirts with recklessness, yet you refrain from voicing concern. The unspoken agreement between you acknowledges his competence behind the wheel. Witnessing the transformation, his tears replaced by a steely resolve as he assumes control, leaves you in awe. The shift in his focus is palpable, a laser-sharp intensity that cuts through the emotional haze.

The familiar road unravels beneath the wheels, leaving a veil of dust in the truck’s turbulent wake. Your gaze fixates on the passing landscape, a silent witness to the gravity of the night. The realization dawns that informing the girls is not just a practical idea; it’s a lifeline to assuage their likely anguish. Retrieving your phone from the snug pocket of your jeans, you declare your intention, fingers poised to bridge the distance between uncertainty and reassurance. “Just gonna inform the girls.”

Jungkook nods, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on the road ahead. You embark on a mission, fingers dialing Soo-ah’s number with a determined precision. The phone ascends to your ear, the ensuing silence pregnant with the unspoken gravity of the message you’re about to deliver.

The moment Soo-ah’s voice resonates through the phone, an undertone of anxiety and fear punctuates the connection, mirroring the collective uncertainty that binds you all. “Jessi’s been in a car accident, and we’re en route to the hospital,” you disclose, your voice carrying the weight of recent tears. However, amid the distress, you impart a tentative reassurance, “She’s alive, but there’s something off—her words were slurred. I think she hit her head. But we will know more when we get to the hospital.”

Turning to Jungkook, you observe the fierce determination etched in the pallor of his knuckles, a testament to the vice-like grip on the wheel. Traces of dried tears mar his cheeks, a visual echo of the emotional tempest that has swept through him. In that moment, a palpable lump lodges itself in your throat, an involuntary response to the profound vulnerability laid bare in the silent interplay of clenched fists and tear-stained faces.

The remainder of the journey unfolds in stifling silence, the cabin suffused with an unspoken tension that hangs thick in the air. The specter of fear, like an insidious intruder, stealthily reclaims its place within the confines of your bones.

Anxiety courses through you—for Jessi’s well-being, for the unknown revelations awaiting, for the uncertain terrain that stretches beyond. The all-encompassing fear becomes an insidious force, its weight rendering the atmosphere within the confined space utterly paralyzing.

The hospital materializes on the horizon, a beacon of both hope and trepidation. Jungkook, propelled by urgency, deftly navigates the maze of parking spaces, abruptly silencing the truck’s ignition before catapulting out of the vehicle with a sense of purpose.

In tandem, you and Jungkook storm into the emergency department, urgency pulsating with every step. As you approach the desk, a receptionist greets you with a smile—her eyes, pools of warmth and empathy, mirroring the softness of her welcoming expression.

“We’re looking for Jessi,” Jungkook declares, a pillar of tension leaning against the elevated desk.

The receptionist’s nod is both swift and affirmative, a reassuring beacon in the sea of apprehension. “Room 134340,” she utters, the numeric sequence hanging in the air like a lifeline.

In unison, you and Jungkook practically bolt towards the imposing doors, a shared urgency propelling you forward. The corridor becomes a labyrinth of tension as you navigate the sea of room numbers, each passing moment marked by the thunderous cadence of your hearts echoing within your chests.

Please let her be okay.

At last, the numbers the receptionist shared come into view, and with a delicate touch, you ease the door open, unveiling a serene image—Jessi, reclined on the bed in peaceful sleep. Your gaze lingers on her slumbering form, taking in the telltale signs of the ordeal she endured—bandages encircling her head, a cast cradling her right arm, and another enveloping her left leg.

The scene before you paints a grim reality, a tapestry of injuries that whispers tales of struggle. Yet, in the midst of this stark portrayal, the ember of relief flickers—she’s alive.

A lump lodges in your throat once more, and with teardrops poised in the corners of your eyes, you approach your sister. Jungkook follows in your wake, settling on the bed. Leaning in, he tenderly caresses her cheek, mirroring the gentle touch that first bridged the gap between his fingers and her skin at the scene of the accident.

Your gaze lingers, capturing the rivulets of tears tracing Jungkook’s expressive contours once more. In the soft luminescence of the room, his eyes shimmer with a profound mixture of emotion, fixated on your sister.

A hush descends as the door swings open, ushering in a figure clad in the sterile garb of a doctor. Your attention pivots, fixating on this harbinger of information.

“Hello. Are you Jessi’s family?” The doctor’s gaze oscillates between you and Jungkook, and your response is encapsulated in a silent nod. Words seem to elude you once more.

“Yeah, This is her sister, and I’m her friend,” Jungkook affirms, his voice carrying a burdened undertone that hints at the unspoken complexities and tensions simmering beneath the surface—an emotional undercurrent that has woven its threads through the past weeks.

The doctor’s nod carries a weighty reassurance as he imparts the diagnosis. “Alright. Jessi has a minor concussion; the impact against the steering wheel caused some bleeding. She’s also dealing with a broken arm and leg, along with a few bruised ribs. Thankfully, that’s the extent of her injuries,” he imparts.

“When can she come home?” Jungkook’s voice, simultaneously textured with rough edges and a tender timbre, resonates in the room. He reaches for Jessi’s hand—the one untouched by the cast—infusing the question with an unspoken urgency and a touch of vulnerability.

“As a precaution due to the concussion, we’d like to keep her under observation for a day or two. After that, you can take her home. However, she’ll need to use a wheelchair, and rest is absolutely crucial,” the doctor informs you, leaving a weighty prescription for recovery in the air. With that, he departs, leaving the two of you alone with Jessi, still in the embrace of a healing slumber.

Your gaze locks onto Jungkook, and as Jessi’s fingers stir against his, a soft gasp escapes you. Jungkook, attuned to the subtle movements, shifts his attention to your sister’s face. Her eyes, a slow dance of reawakening, flutter open, and she casts a weary but genuine smile at both of you. “Hi,” she utters, and the simplicity of that greeting carries a profound weight, a testament to resilience and the indomitable spirit that endures even in the face of adversity.

A shared chuckle resonates between you and Jungkook, but he takes the lead, concern etched in his question, “How are you holding up?”

“Everything fucking hurts,” she confesses, the words escaping through gritted teeth, and a wince that lingers in the air.

As you observe, her speech is no longer marred by slurs, and a glimmer of hope flickers within you. Offering a gentle smile, you cling to this positive sign, a fragile beacon of recovery in the aftermath of the accident.

“We were worried there for a second,” you admit with a smile, your heart still tethered to the lingering uneasiness.

“I’m fine. I’m gonna be fine,” she reassures with a languid smile, her eyes retaining a drowsy allure.

Jungkook continues to tenderly stroke her hand, a lone tear betraying his emotion as it slips from the corner of his eye.

“Why are you crying?” Jessi inquires in a weary tone, her question carrying a subtle mix of curiosity and fatigue. The fatigue in her tone, juxtaposed with the curiosity in her eyes, creates a moment of vulnerability and curiosity, inviting the reader to delve deeper into the emotional intricacies of the scene.

“Because you look so bad,” he chuckles through a teasing sob, a bittersweet smile dancing on his lips as he attempts to lighten the heavy atmosphere with a touch of humor.

Jessi scuffs, “If I could slap ya, I would,” she drags out, a playful smirk tugging at her lips, “Sis, can you do it for me?”

You shake your head, a fond smile playing on your lips as you observe their usual teasing banter. Despite the ordeal, the fact that she can still summon her playful spirit brings a sense of relief, a small but reassuring glimmer in the midst of uncertainty.

Your laughter lingers in the air, but a subtle sadness creeps into your voice as you inquire, “What happened?”

She groans, eyes rolling in frustration as she recounts, “There was this red car that appeared out of nowhere in the turn, driving on the wrong side of the road.”

Your eyes widen with concern, a gasp escaping your lips. “What happened to the red car? Did it just drive off?”

“Managed to dodge the car, but ended up colliding with a damn tree instead,” she says, a hint of frustration in her tone.

“And to top it off, the guy just speeds away like nothing happened!” she scoffs, her irritation palpable and echoing the injustice of the situation.

“Do you have any idea who that was?” Jungkook demands, a mix of curiosity and sternness in his gaze, his fist clenching at his side as if ready to confront the reckless driver.

“Some arrogant city slicker. Never seen that car around here. Clearly not a local,” she scoffs, disdain dripping from her words as she curses the reckless driver.

“Can you call Namjoon for me?” she suddenly requests, locking eyes with you. You find yourself curious about why she specifically wants to talk to Namjoon at this moment.

When you shoot her a quizzical look, she adds, “I want to tell him something.”

“Can’t it wait?” you counter, not quite grasping why it’s so urgent for her to speak with Namjoon right now.

“No.”

Fine. You reluctantly pull out your phone and dial Namjoon. Describing the situation, you implore him to come as soon as possible, and he assures you he’ll be there swiftly.

As the minutes tick by in the hushed room, the tension thickens, yet an unspoken understanding binds you, Jessi, and Jungkook together. Silence reigns, pregnant with the weight of shared concern, creating a strangely comforting atmosphere.

The hospital doors burst open, revealing a disheveled Namjoon sprints in, clutching a bouquet of flowers. His eyes scan the room, taking in the sight of your sister lying on the bed, and his breath catches in a mix of relief and worry.

His voice laced with concern, Namjoon places the bouquet on the bedside table, his eyes fixed on your sister. “It looks bad. Are you okay?” he inquires, his worry echoing in the sterile hospital room.

“Fuck you. I’m fine,” she retorts, a smirk playing on her lips. The room fills with laughter, and seizing the moment, you gesture to the couch on the other side of the room, silently signaling to give Jessi and Namjoon some space. Jungkook rises from the bed, joining you on the couch.

Without a hint of preamble or consideration for the weight of her words, Jessi suddenly declares, “I want to break up.” Her words echoing through the room with a weight that sends a jolt through both you and Jungkook. You exchange a glance, realizing you’ve stumbled upon a moment too intimate for your presence.

Namjoon wears a puzzled expression, questioning, “Are you sure about this? Is it the concussion talking?”

Definitely, she shakes her head. “No, my mind is crystal clear.”

Regret lingers in her eyes as she confesses, “I’m sorry, but I can’t be with you anymore. I want to break up.” Her gaze, tinged with sadness, speaks volumes as she nervously bites her lip, the weight of her decision palpable in the room.

Namjoon nods thoughtfully, “Okay. No hard feelings. I understand.” His gaze shifts to Jungkook, a hint of unspoken understanding passing between them. “You can always call me—whether it’s just to talk or if one of the animals gets sick. Friends?” The air seems to lighten with the sincerity of his words.

“Friends,” she breathes out, the words carrying the weight of a burden lifted from her heart. Her gratitude spills forth, a sincere “And thank you, Namjoon,” echoing in the room.

She shares a smile with him, and his response mirrors the sentiment. From your perch on the couch, the intimacy of their moment feels oddly intrusive, and you can’t shake the sense of being an unintended witness to the delicate unraveling of their relationship.

Namjoon pivots, offering a parting nod and a soft farewell before gracefully exiting the room.

As his presence fades, you exhale the breath you’d been clutching, the room finally free from tension. “Well, that was uncomfortable.”

Jessi chuckles, seemingly unfazed by the awkwardness you just witnessed, her laughter echoing through the room.

You rise to your feet, stretching your tired body, and with a gentle tone, you ask, “Do you want to head home now, Kook?”

Jungkook remains seated on the couch, exchanging a meaningful glance with your sister. “I was actually thinking about staying and bringing her home tomorrow,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet determination.

Your eyes flicker open, but you quickly compose your expression, offering them both a gentle smile. “I’ll call Soo-ah to come pick me up then,” you say, your voice carrying a mix of understanding and reassurance.

Jessi doesn’t possess a single bone wired for relaxation. Despite the doctors’ earnest advice to take it slow and steady, does she heed it? Absolutely not.

With determined grit, she maneuvers the wheelchair around the house with one hand, attempting to shoulder every task single-handedly, only to find herself faltering at each turn.

In her quest for a simple glass of water, disaster struck – the glass slipped from her grasp, dancing precariously on the edge of destruction before miraculously escaping the fate of shattered fragments.

Your sister’s unwavering stubbornness has sparked numerous discussions, leaving you weary from the incessant cycle of repeating yourself.

“Why can’t you just stay put and let me handle it?” you groan at her futile attempt to set the dinner table. Exasperated, you snatch the plate from her hand and expertly arrange it on the table.

You’ve relocated all her belongings to the guest room, a practical move given her current inability to navigate the stairs. It’s a convenience for everyone, yourself included.

Exasperated, you burst out, “Sit your ass down!”

Her laughter rings through the room as she retorts, “I am sitting.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at her playful defiance.

Kneeling down, your eyes lock onto hers, a plea in your gaze. “I can take care of everything for you. Pushing yourself too hard will only slow down your recovery. Is that what you really want?”

Her gaze shifts away, words escaping in a soft mumble, their meaning lost in the air between you.

“What was that?”

Her response is a defiant whisper, almost a rebellion against her own vulnerability. “No. I don’t want that. Fine. You can do everything. It’s just not in my nature to let everybody do everything for me.”

When you told your sister you could handle everything on the ranch, little did you anticipate the relentless demands that awaited. Now, sweat beads roll down your hairline, and sticky shirts cling to your fatigued body—your new normal. Soreness and exhaustion threaten to overcome you, yet you persist. The unwavering support of Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin becomes your lifeline, and you find yourself profoundly grateful for their presence. Without them, the daunting tasks ahead would be impossible.

Despite the relentless physical and mental demands, there’s an undeniable love that fuels your every effort. It’s in the rhythmic cadence of working with the horses, the joy of discovering ripe veggies in the garden, the satisfaction of feeding the cattle and horses. Cleaning the stable, tending to the yard, and meticulously fixing the fences become more than just chores—they’re threads woven into the tapestry of a passion that now defines you.

As if the outside challenges weren’t enough, the list of tasks inside the house seems never-ending—cleaning, organizing, tackling taxes, and conjuring up dinners that dance on the taste buds. The sheer magnitude of it all makes you marvel at Jessi’s ability to juggle these responsibilities, leaving you to wonder how she navigates this intricate dance without succumbing to the relentless rhythm of exhaustion.

In the whirlwind of responsibilities, Jungkook offers to lend his hands in fixing one of the fences on your property.

The anticipation of Jungkook’s assistance becomes a beacon of relief in your hectic schedule, and a mischievous thought flits through your mind—wondering if you could sweet-talk him into tackling the entire task, granting you a rare and much-needed moment of respite.

In the driver’s seat of your brand-new pickup truck, a lustrous shade of dark purple that gleams in the sunlight, you reflect on its arrival, replacing the ghost of the white one marred by Jessi’s unfortunate accident. The former wreck, irreparably damaged, made way for this sleek, modern model, boasting enhanced comfort that transforms every drive into a genuine pleasure.

As you turn the key in the ignition, the hum of the engine beneath you, and shift the truck into first gear, anticipation courses through you. The Eastern paddock awaits, its fence in need of repair, and Jungkook has promised to join you. The radio provides a lively soundtrack, and you find yourself singing along with joy, only to fall into a hushed silence as the familiar silhouette of a blue truck comes into view, neatly parked beside the fence.

Cursing under your breath, frustration seizes you as you realize Jungkook— that damn traitor, has sent his brother to handle the job he promised to do.

The betrayal stings, especially considering the current strained terms between you and Jimin. Anger simmers within, escaping in a low, gritted scoff as you pull your car up beside Jimin’s.

Jimin dives into the task at hand, effortlessly measuring wire lengths and expertly cutting them to fit the fence. There’s no denying it, not that there ever was – Jimin is undeniably attractive. As you observe from the comfort of your car, your gaze lingers on his sweaty forehead, his biceps flexing beneath the rolled-up shirt. Another curse slips from your lips; why does he have to look this good?

A whirlwind of emotions courses through your veins – desire entangled with frustration. Jimin’s effect on your mind is infuriating. Yes, you still crave him, but the bitterness lingers. He chose someone else without engaging in a conversation about what transpired, a choice that feels painfully immature.

Relaxing your crossed arms, you swing the door open and step into the sweltering air. You circle the car to grab your tools and approach Jimin, who doesn’t bother to cast even a fleeting glance your way.

You scoff and roll your eyes. No greeting? This is a new low. You expected, at the very least, a bit of small talk. Seems like even that was too much to ask for.

“Hey, Jimin,” you say, attempting to mask the tension growing thick in the air. He remains silent, his focus fixed on his strong and calloused hands diligently working on the fence.

At least you’ve chosen to be the bigger person, maintaining your politeness. You dive into the task at hand, assisting him in measuring, cutting, and applying the new wire. The absence of conversation hangs heavy, a stifling silence that feels more like a heavy weight on your chest. It’s uncomfortable, this void between you two, and you can’t help but despise it with every fiber of your being.

In the suffocating silence, you realize that attempting conversation is futile, as he remains resolute in ignoring your every plea. Determined to endure the unbearable tension, you find yourself silently cursing Jungkook in your mind for orchestrating you into working with Jimin. There’s no question about it— you’ll have a serious talk with him later about this stupid plan of his!

Your hands accidentally collide with Jimin’s a few times, and the contact sends a jolt through you, a sensation you hastily withdraw from as if burned. The lingering touch awakens something buried deep within, a sentiment you’re determined to suppress. Those residual feelings must be banished, relegated to the recesses of your heart.

You can’t help but notice Jimin’s persistent gaze fixed upon you, and it’s disconcerting. The emotions swirling in the air are indescribable, leaving you puzzled about the cause of his intense scrutiny. Yet, the expression etched on his face is far from one of happiness or satisfaction; instead, it carries the weight of pain and unresolved sentiments.

The realization hits hard—there’s no denying it now. You and Jimin let your moment slip away, a truth that’s crystal clear now.

As a heavy sigh escapes your lips, you find yourself yearning for a past rewritten, a canvas of memories painted with different hues.

“It’s official!”

In an exuberant burst of joy, you proclaim the moment, your voice echoing in giddy celebration as you sit on the grass. Beside you, Yoongi chuckles, and the tranquil scene unfolds with Holly and Marshmallow leisurely grazing on the grass.

Ecstatic, he declares, “We’re in business, baby!” His laughter resonates, and his radiant smile competes with the brilliance of the sun. You join in the laughter, though the pet name doesn’t quite sit right with you.

Playfully, you groan, “God, please don’t call me ‘baby’,” as laughter continues to ripple between you. His response is a simple, hearty chuckle.

As the sun dips below the horizon, a serene quiet blankets the hilltop, providing a perfect backdrop to absorb the significance of the moment. You and Yoongi, now proud business owners of a wild horse gentling venture, revel in the excitement of the journey ahead. The prospect of working with more horses and bringing joy to people through these extraordinary animals fuels your anticipation.

With a hint of emotion in his voice, a touch of longing, Yoongi shares, “I’ve already found our inaugural customer.” Intrigued, you turn to face him, your eyes prompting him to reveal more about this exciting news.

With a weighted voice, laden with deep emotions, Yoongi reveals, “There’s a guy not far from us. He’s taken an interest in Holly.” Your gasp resonates with the dread that settles in—oh no, not Holly.

“But isn’t she yours to keep?” you ask, a tinge of sadness reflected in your eyes. Expectations of Yoongi keeping Holly for himself, the first horse you both worked on, echo in your question. The bond he shares with her seems uniquely special, so why part with her?

“I truly adore her, but she’s just a horse. And this is business,” he sighs, his voice carrying the weight of the decision as he gazes at the sunset. A lump forms in your throat, and tears well in your eyes. The thought of selling Mikrokosmos, your horse, feels almost impossible. She’s not just a business asset; she’s a part of you, and the idea of parting with her is heart-wrenching.

“Well, I hope she’ll love her new home,” you say with a bittersweet smile, gently shoving him playfully on the shoulder. The mixture of emotions swirls between you two, acknowledging the business aspect while secretly hoping Holly finds as much happiness in her new home as you both found in each other’s company.

“I hope so too,” he murmurs, his lips pressed into a tight line. The deep affection he holds for the horse is evident, and you sense the internal struggle he’s facing. This decision weighs on him, and you find yourself sharing in the silent understanding of the emotional complexity tied to their parting.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting hues of warm orange and pink across the sky, you remain on the hilltop, sharing the tranquil moment with your horses grazing beside you. In the company of Yoongi, your best friend, you reflect on the genuine bond that has grown between you. His presence is a comforting constant, a reliable listener, and a confidant you deeply appreciate.

In a moment of vulnerability, you confess, “You know... I’ve never really felt at home anywhere since I left the ranch.” The weight of emotions settles over you, and tears threaten to escape.

Sensing your need for comfort, Yoongi turns to you, wrapping you in a gentle hug that speaks volumes without uttering a single word.

Amid the hues of the setting sun, Yoongi poses a poignant question, his voice laden with a mix of emotion and weariness. “Do you feel at home now?” he asks, and a soft chuckle escapes your lips, a response teeming with a complex blend of gratitude, uncertainty, and the subtle realization that ’home’ might be more than a physical place.

“I actually do.”

Words tumble from your lips as you gaze over the ranch from the hilltop, the golden glow of the sun casting a warm aura. “I never thought I would feel at home again. But this place has a way of working its magic on everything,” you confess, a testament to the transformative power your surroundings have woven into the fabric of your heart.

His smile echoes the sentiment, and he envelops you in a tight hug, as if the embrace itself is a testament to the enchantment this place has cast upon your lives.

“That it sure does,” he murmurs, a shared acknowledgment of the profound connection you both feel to the land beneath your feet.

In the vast expanse of uncertainties, you shudder at the mere thought of navigating through the challenges without Yoongi by your side, a reliable anchor in the unpredictable sea of life. The gratitude for his friendship lingers in your heart, a sentiment too profound to be expressed in mere words.

“Will you come over tomorrow? The guy that wants to buy Holly will come and pick her up in the morning…” You discern the unspoken plea in his eyes, and with a tender smile, you draw closer, seeking solace in the warmth of his presence.

“Of course I’ll be there, Yoon.”

After the sun’s final bow, Yoongi rides back to the Park ranch, and you descend the hill towards your home. The term ‘home’ once felt foreign, but now it wraps around you like a familiar embrace, an unwavering truth – your refuge, always and forever.

The next day, fueled by a hasty breakfast, you dash to the stables, the eager anticipation of your visit to Bell Ranch propelling you forward. Your task at hand: preparing Marshmallow for the journey ahead.

In the quiet embrace of the barn, you exchange a warm greeting with Marshmallow, ushering him into the center of the space. There, you deftly equip him with a saddle and bridle. As you guide him outside, the crisp morning air envelops you, and the gentle caress of the early sun bestows warmth upon your skin. A deep inhale fills your lungs, and with a graceful exhale, you mount Marshmallow. With a subtle nudge, you prompt him into a rhythmic gallop, traversing the lush expanse of green that unfolds before you.

The journey feels fleeting, far too brief for the solace it provides. Arriving at the stables, you swiftly dismount and tenderly remove Marshmallow’s tack. Leading him to one of the paddocks, you release him to the embrace of the open space, allowing him a well-deserved respite while you prepare to work with Yoongi.

You make your way to the pen, where Yoongi bids farewell to Holly. His arms envelop the brown mare’s neck in a tight embrace, soft pats accentuating the silent conversation between man and horse. Tears trace a path down his cheeks, and unexpectedly, you find your own emotions stirred, empathizing with the bittersweet parting, even though Holly isn’t your horse.

You acknowledge him with a quiet nod, hesitant to disrupt the tender moment between him and Holly. Leaning against the fence, you observe the heartfelt exchange. Holly emits a deep, resonant whinny, and for a fleeting moment, it feels as though she comprehends the impending separation.

As the sound of a truck pulling a trailer draws near behind you, the realization dawns—it’s time. Yoongi lifts his head from its resting place on Holly’s neck, offering her a final, affectionate pat before reluctantly stepping away.

With a heavy heart, Yoongi guides Holly towards the waiting trailer in the yard. The man has preemptively opened the trailer door, and as Holly steps inside, Yoongi closes the latch with a palpable reluctance. Standing on the sidelines, you observe the exchange—the man handing Yoongi some money, their handshake resonating with unspoken emotions. As the man returns to his car and drives away, Yoongi walks over to you, a profound sadness etched on his face.

“It’s okay,” you offer a comforting reassurance to Yoongi, wrapping him in a gentle hug.

He shares a bittersweet acknowledgment, a tinge of sadness coloring his smile, as both of you reluctantly shift your focus away from the departing car.

“Do you want to work on Mikrokosmos? I feel like I need something to do to keep my mind off Holly,” his request hangs in the air, laced with a subtle vulnerability as he looks at you with a sheepish smile. A shared understanding passes between you, and you nod in agreement, both silently making your way toward the stables, seeking solace in the comforting routine of working with Mikrokosmos.

With a confident stride, you retrieve Mikrokosmos from her stall, guiding her down to the pen without the need for a rope or halter. Yoongi walks beside you, a wistful smile playing on his lips.

Swinging the gate wide, you usher Mikrokosmos into the pen, her graceful steps echoing within the enclosure. Yoongi assumes his customary perch atop the fence, his observant eyes tracking the movements of the spirited mare.

Allowing Mikrokosmos to explore your scent, you initiate a tactile connection by stroking her forehead, tracing the path down her elegant neck, and along the sinewy contours of her shoulders. As your hands ascend to her back, you apply a gentle yet firm pressure, echoing the techniques you observed from Yoongi weeks ago, establishing a silent rapport with the magnificent mare.

Feeling the mare’s ease under your touch, you gradually increase the pressure, traversing her back with a comforting rhythm. When your eyes seek Yoongi’s for guidance, a silent understanding passes between you. Without a spoken word, he reads your unspoken query. “She’s ready,” he asserts with unwavering confidence, his voice a testament to the bond you’re building with Mikrokosmos.

Emboldened by Mikrokosmos’ serene response to your touch, you decide to take a daring leap, mimicking Yoongi’s approach with Holly. With a sense of excitement and trepidation, you pull yourself up onto her back. To your delight, she remains unfazed, allowing you to settle in, planting your bum securely on her back. It’s a moment of triumph, a testament to the trust building between you and the spirited mare.

In a breathless moment, Mikrokosmos stands still, and then, breaking the silence, she releases a soft whinny. Your heart swells with a mix of wonder and joy. As you pat her neck, a gentle coaxing with the press of your legs encourages her to move. Together, you embark on a slow journey around the pen, a newfound connection unfolding beneath you. From atop the fence, Yoongi grins widely, witnessing the magical communion between rider and horse.

A surge of pride and accomplishment courses through you. It’s a defining moment, a testament to the progress made. Confidence radiates from your every move as you navigate the pen on horseback, a triumphant smile adorning your face.

As a sudden pressure builds in your bladder, frustration wells up internally. Of all the moments, it has to be now. Succumbing to the inevitable, you voice your discomfort, “I need to use the restroom. Can you look after Mikrokosmos until I return?”

Yoongi acknowledges with a nod, and you smoothly descend Mikrokosmos’ body, grounding your feet in the sand. With a burst of energy, you vault over the fence, sprinting all the way up to the main house.

You forgo the courtesy of knocking, opting to swing the door wide open as you make a beeline for the bathroom.

As your fingers extend toward the door handle, it unexpectedly swings open, catching you off guard and sending a jolt of surprise through you.

As the door swings open, you’re met with the unexpected sight of Deiji, draped only in a towel. Her damp hair and glistening skin hint at a recent shower, and the small droplets of water sparkle in the light. A startled shriek escapes her lips as her gaze locks with your equally surprised and wide eyes.

Panicking, you blurt out, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Your words stumble over each other as the sound of approaching footsteps from upstairs adds to the awkward tension in the air.

Down the stairs descends Jimin, clad in nothing but a pair of snug grey joggers, his feet bare, hair wet, and your jaw practically hits the floor.

“What’s the matter, babe?” He queries, running a hand through his damp hair. His eyes find your startled form, and he instantly eases into a more relaxed demeanor.

You’re caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Your heartbeat skyrockets, and you’re torn between the urge to look away and the magnetic pull keeping your gaze fixed on Jimin. Every contour of his physique, from well-defined pectorals to a happy trail of natural brown hairs leading down to his crotch, leaves you both captivated and flustered. He is everything you imagined and more.

A sudden wave of heat engulfs the room, making you feel as if you’re suffocating. You become acutely aware that you might have been staring for too long, as both Jimin and Deiji shoot you concerned glances, their eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin inquires, casually flexing his abdominals with a smirk playing on his lips. It’s a dirty move, and he knows it. Why does he have to look so devilishly good, practically flaunting something you can’t have? It’s not fair—Park Jimin is a temptation, and you can’t help but feel he might be your downfall.

As realization dawns, you suddenly recall the purpose of your intrusion. “I have to pee,” you blurt out, a mixture of embarrassment and urgency in your tone.

Amused laughter fills the room, and Deiji graciously clears some space, saying, “You can use it; I’m done anyway.”

Nodding, you flash her a grateful smile, a strange mix of nerves and curiosity swirling within you. As you pass her, a trail of her sweet floral scent lingers, enveloping you. Just before slipping into the bathroom, you steal a glance at Jimin. His face wears a smirk you can’t decipher.

Suddenly, it dawns on you - this is the first time he has spoken to you in weeks.

Basking in the midday sun, a gentle breeze toys with your hair, allowing its tender touch to dance across your neck as you gallop through the undulating hills astride Marshmallow.

Thundering across these expansive landscapes, a spirited gallop grants temporary solace to your heart, momentarily eclipsing the tumult within. Damn Park Jimin and his angelic and devilish looking face. The ache intensifies witnessing him with his infuriatingly perfect girlfriend; a pain that lingers, leaving you uncertain if you’ll ever get over him.

Granting Marshmallow unrestrained freedom, you traverse diverse landscapes—dense forests, the serene lake, and finally, the ranch’s Eastern expanse. Yet, an unsettling discord interrupts the tranquility, an eerie cry that echoes of an animal’s distress. Tensing the reins, you guide Marshmallow toward the source of the ominous noise.

Arriving at the scene, your eyes widen at the sight of a cow standing in the paddock, its posture awkward, and a pair of feet protruding from its laboring form. A gasp escapes you as the realization dawns – the cow is giving birth.

Dismounting from Marshmallow, urgency propels you toward the struggling cow. The rhythmic movement of the legs suggests the birthing process, something doesn’t seem right and you don’t know what to do. In a quick reflex, you pull out your phone, dialing the only person you know what to do.

The ringtone echoes anxiously, each second an eternity as you plead silently for the familiar voice to answer. The urgency in your chest intensifies with each passing ring. Please, just pick up, dammit!

Relief floods over you as Namjoon’s voice resonates through the phone, a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. “This is Namjoon,” he declares, and in that instant, it’s as if the universe aligns to bring order to the chaos around you.

“Thank god! Can you come and help? There’s a cow giving birth in the Eastern paddock, and it sounds like she’s in distress!” Your urgent plea pierces through the phone, echoing the distress emanating from the laboring cow.

“You know these animals can handle calving by themselves, right?” He chuckles on the line, and you roll your eyes, dismissing the notion with a hint of impatience. There’s no time for a history lesson; immediate action is what you need.

“The baby cow’s legs are moving back and forth—is that normal?” Your voice carries a hint of sternness, convinced that this situation isn’t within the realms of normalcy. Silence greets you on the other end, and for a brief moment, you fear he might have hung up.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible!” His voice, once calm, now carries a sense of urgency and stress, and in that moment, you grasp the gravity of the situation.

“Try to see if you can pull the calf’s legs out until I arrive, okay?” His urgent plea echoes in your ears, mingling with the distant sound of a car door opening and closing on the line, signaling hope that he’s racing to your aid.

“Pull its legs out?” Your frantic voice echoes into the void as the call disconnects. A heavy sigh escapes you as you gaze at the distressed cow. Uncertainty clings to you like a shadow; you’re torn between the fear of causing harm and the weight of Namjoon’s expertise urging you to act. He’s the vet, after all, and if he says it’s the necessary step, you steel yourself for what needs to be done.

Rolling your sleeves up, you step forward, determined to help the distressed cow. Your hand rests gently on its back, employing the same calming touch you would use with a wild horse. Slowly, your hand traverses down its body to its hindquarters where the legs protrude awkwardly. With a careful grip, you attempt to pull, but to no avail. It becomes apparent that the helpless calf is firmly lodged inside, presenting a daunting challenge.

Beads of sweat mingle with the dust on your brow, the relentless struggle to free the trapped calf becomes a desperate dance. The distant hum of an approaching engine brings a surge of hope, and relief washes over you as Namjoon’s truck roars to a halt behind you. Oh thank god!

With a swift, purposeful stride, Namjoon emerges from his truck, the familiar cadence of urgency echoing in each step. In his firm grip, the vet bag swings like a lifeline as he hastens toward you and the distressed cow.

Apologies linger in Namjoon’s voice as he swiftly dons a pair of absurdly long, cerulean gloves from his well-stocked bag. His keen eyes scan the scene, assessing the situation as he poses a question that cuts through the tense air, “It’s still not out?”

Retreating to give Namjoon the space he needs, you watch in awe as he envelops the tiny legs with his gloved hands, channeling the strength of his entire body into each determined pull.

“It normally doesn’t take this long to birth a calf…” sweat beads on Namjoon’s forehead as he exerts more effort, a hint of concern in his voice. With a final determined tug, the calf emerges, first the legs, then the head and the rest of its body. Namjoon carefully lowers it to the ground, leaving the newborn covered in a mixture of slime and blood.

Namjoon discards his gloves into a wash bag, his eyes shifting from the exhausted cow to the newborn calf finding its bearings on the grass. “Calling me was the right move; it didn’t appear the cow could manage to push the calf out on her own,” he remarks, a touch of relief in his voice.

Gratitude fills your words as you express, “Thanks for rushing over and handling everything – I mean, doing the heavy lifting for me.” A soft chuckle escapes your lips, acknowledging the reality that pulling out a calf was far beyond your strength.

“No problem,” his response is accompanied by a warm, bright smile, radiating reassurance. As he stows away his bag in the truck, he turns to you, locking eyes with you.

“How’s Jessi doing?” His question comes with a warm smile, yet beneath it, a subtle dance of curiosity and nervousness in his browline. A soft chuckle escapes you as you contemplate the enduring care he holds for Jessi, even after the end of their relationship. It’s nice that they are able to stay friends and still care for each other like this.

Your smile mirrors his, genuine and bright. “She’s holding up well, still bossing everyone around. Though she’s confined to crutches for now, the silver lining is that the casts are scheduled to come off in just a few days.”

His smile widens, and he nods appreciatively. “Well, that’s a relief to hear.”

You chuckle again, the sound echoing in the air. Namjoon, a genuinely good guy, radiates warmth, and it’s a bittersweet realization that things didn’t work out between him and your sister. Deep down, you silently wish him a future where he finds someone who can fulfill the desires that shimmer in his eyes – a quest you sense he’s earnestly pursuing.

“I’ll get going then. Everybody needs my help today.” He chuckles, his robust frame resonating with the warmth of his laughter, and Namjoon announces his departure. Acknowledging his unwavering commitment to helping others, you nod in farewell, watching as he steps into his truck and drives away.

You return to Marshmallow, your hand gently caressing his neck in appreciation before seamlessly mounting him. With a swift swing of your leg over the saddle, you guide him on the journey back home.

“Why are we subjecting ourselves to this culinary chaos again?” you groan, placing yet another dish onto the grand table in your dining room, glancing at Jessi for an answer.

Jessi gracefully moves around the table, lending a hand in setting up while ensuring everything is perfectly in place. “It’s all in celebration of liberation from the cast!” She jubilantly shakes her once-encased arm and leg, now liberated. You can’t help but roll your eyes; your sister’s idea of a celebration might be a bit eccentric, but it’s her party after all.

In the bustling kitchen, Ha-rin and Ara work tirelessly to craft an array of delectable dishes, infusing the house with a symphony of tantalizing aromas. Meanwhile, you, Jessi, and Soo-ah engage in a meticulous dance, setting the table with precision and placing each carefully prepared dish, allowing wisps of steam to rise and tantalize the senses.

As the feast approaches, your sister has extended invitations far and wide, and that inevitably includes Jimin and his girlfriend. The mere thought of encountering him again prompts a preemptive groan, and you find yourself yearning for a way to evade the impending interaction. Alas, with him being your neighbor and frequent collaborator on ranch-related endeavors, avoiding him proves to be a challenging feat. You scuff at the predicament, silently longing for a different reality.

With an audible clunk, you assertively place the plates on the table, the reverberation echoing the intensity of your emotions.

“Easy there!” Your sister scolds, her tone a playful warning, as she delicately places the glasses in front of the plates.

You chuckle, a lightness returning to your mood, and set the plates down with a flourish before heading into the kitchen to collect the utensils.

Anticipation gnaws at you as you set the table, a desire to get through this dinner quickly, fueled by the looming presence of Jimin. His silence has become a heavy weight, and ever since that unexpected glimpse of him almost naked, unwanted thoughts and vivid images intrude your mind. You scold yourself, reminding that he isn’t yours to entertain such thoughts about. It’s not fair to him or Deiji, and you need to push these images aside.

As you mope around the dining room, preparing for the gathering, the atmosphere shifts with the arrival of guests. Jungkook bursts in, enveloping your sister in a warm embrace before turning his attention to you. His hug is almost too tight, prompting a small squeak to escape your lips, and he responds with hearty laughter that fills the room.

As Jimin and Deiji make their entrance, you acknowledge them with a subtle nod, instinctively creating a bit of space between you. The air seems to tighten with unresolved tension, and you navigate the space carefully, aware that every step brings you closer to a rendezvous with emotions you’d rather keep at bay.

Hoseok strides into the room, with Yoongi next to him, he’s the first to envelop you in a warm embrace, a radiant smile on his face. He peppers you with questions about how you’ve been, and with a reassuring nod, you assure him that everything’s going well. Then, seamlessly, Yoongi joins in, encircling you with his arms, a reassuring and tight embrace that momentarily eases the complexities lingering in the air.

“Missed you,” he chuckles, his arms refusing to release you as you playfully roll your eyes. Amidst the friendly banter, you can’t help but notice Jimin’s intense gaze fixed on you. His eyes darken, and the once bright smile on his face transforms into a subtle frown, leaving you with a sense of unease.

Your heart sinks, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. Does Jimin not know that Yoongi is gay, and that his kiss was merely his attempt at figuring out his sexuality? It occurs to you that he probably doesn’t. After all, Yoongi hasn’t openly shared his sexual orientation, and you’ve kept it confidential as well. The pieces start falling into place, and you comprehend the anger simmering in Jimin’s eyes. If he assumes that you and Yoongi are a couple, it would explain the tension and frustration etched on his face.

How do you convey to Jimin that your relationship with Yoongi is nothing more than a deep, platonic friendship, without revealing Yoongi’s sexual orientation?

And in the grand scheme of things, does any of this even hold weight now? With him having a girlfriend, laying the truth bare seems futile. Why would confessing change a thing? He’s maintained radio silence for months, a streak of silence that shows no signs of breaking, so why break it now?

Yoongi releases you, and you respond with a playful slap on his shoulder. As he steps back, falling in line behind Hoseok, you can’t help but catch the subtle way his gaze traces Hoseok’s figure.

As you glance over, you spot Namjoon and Seokjin in the hallway, each holding a bottle of wine. A smile plays on your lips as they make their way toward you, meticulously placing the bottles on the table before joining in the gathering.

Namjoon envelops you in a warm, tight hug, his curious voice breaking through the buzz of the room.

“How’s that calf doing?” he inquires, while Seokjin raises an intrigued eyebrow at him.

Gratitude warms your voice as you assure Namjoon, “He’s doing fine with his mother and the rest of the herd. Thank you so much for helping.” A warm smile accompanies your words, and you motion for them to take a seat.

“That’s great,” he remarks, pulling out a chair and settling in beside Seokjin.

Ha-rin and Ara make their entrance into the dining room, their foreheads glistening with the sweat earned from their hard work in the kitchen.

You take your seat beside Yoongi and Soo-ah, casting a glance across the table where Jimin and Deiji have settled. Jessi and Jungkook, positioned next to each other, are engaged in a playful banter that echoes the dynamics of a married couple, the subject revolving around trucks and bikes. Despite your eye roll at their antics, a sweet smile tugs at your lips, warming your heart with the familiarity of their friendship.

Ha-rin’s exhausted yet earnest voice scolds gently, pointing with pride at the array of delectable dishes that have emerged from the depths of her labor in the kitchen throughout the day. “Please, eat your heart out. I’ve practically lived in that kitchen to create this feast,” she urges, her eyes reflecting the passion poured into every culinary creation with the assistance of Ara.

Expressions of gratitude fill the air as your entire group starts delving into the carefully crafted dishes before you. The aroma is irresistible, and your anticipation intensifies as you eagerly anticipate the first savory bite, your hungry stomach protesting its emptiness.

Savoring the heartiness of the meal, you indulge in a bit of everything, each mouthful a symphony of delectable flavors. A wave of gratitude washes over you for having Ha-rin on the ranch, as her culinary skills elevate the dining experience, compensating for your own culinary shortcomings.

Seokjin, caught in the rapture of each bite, pauses to express his culinary admiration. His eyes gleam with appreciation as he licks his lips, savoring the flavors. “Ha-rin, this is truly incredible. Would you mind sharing the recipe later? I don’t want to miss out on a single secret behind this delightful feast.”

Ha-rin’s laughter, a melodic accompaniment to the clinking of cutlery, fills the room. A subtle blush tints her cheeks, and a bashful yet confident smile reveals her teeth. “Thank you,” she responds graciously, “I can send you the recipe later, no problem.”

You can’t help but chuckle, observing her graceful gesture of tucking a strand of short, black hair behind her ear. Her eyes, adorned with a spark of admiration, linger on Seokjin as he savors every bite.

As you glance around the table, a warmth spreads through you, witnessing everyone relishing the moment. Namjoon gracefully pours wine for those seeking a more refined sip, while others opt for the familiar companionship of beer or the simple refreshment of water.

You relish a small glass of red, a rare indulgence that harmonizes beautifully with the culinary symphony on your plate, you’re about to shift your attention back to the feast when you feel the weight of Jimin’s gaze. His eyes pierce through the air, intense and fervent, as though etching a connection with the depths of your soul.

A nervous gulp courses through you, a fleeting warmth that fans the flames of self-consciousness. Your throat tightens imperceptibly, a subtle reminder of the unspoken tension in the air. Summoning courage, you lock eyes with Jimin, your gaze unwavering. The question lingers in the charged atmosphere – why is he studying you with such intensity?

Deiji’s laughter echoes, a stark contrast to the storm brewing in Jimin’s eyes. With narrowed gaze, you shoot back a piercing stare, mirroring the frustration and pain you’ve bottled up. Unnoticed, your fingers tighten around the utensils, and red begins to flare behind your eyelids.

“Calm down,” as frustration tightens your grip on the utensils, Yoongi’s calming whisper in your ear nudges you back from the edge. With an exasperated huff, you release your clenched hands. Jimin’s persistent gaze lingers, a puzzle you can’t decipher. Annoyed, you shoot him a furrowed frown, determined to focus on your meal. If he has something to say, he can use words instead of cryptic glances. You refuse to grant him more of your time without a proper conversation.

You practically spear the defenseless food on your plate, the residual anger simmering within. Beside you, Yoongi chuckles, a sound that offers a glimmer of solace. In the midst of your inner turmoil, it’s a relief to know someone can find enjoyment in this tense dinner.

Throughout the remainder of the dinner, laughter dances in the air alongside light-hearted conversations, a melody you struggle to fully engage with. Purposefully steering clear of Jimin, you catch his occasional glances in your direction, each one like an unspoken question lingering in the room.

As the final bites are savored and the dinner concludes, a collective effort ensues to tidy up the remnants of the feast. While some bid their goodbyes and disappear into the night, a handful remain, drawn to the allure of the terrace to indulge in leisurely drinks before ending the day’s festivities.

Soo-ah, Ara, Ha-rin, Yoongi, and Hoseok gravitate towards the terrace, creating a lively ensemble beneath the canvas of a sky painted with the remnants of a sunset that bid its farewell just hours ago. The air, now a gentle embrace, cradles the warmth of the departed sun, fostering an ambiance ripe for drinks and smalltalk.

You cradle the red wine in your hands, the rich hue mirroring the depth of your thoughts. It’s only your second glass, but who’s keeping track anyway?

You exhale with a profound sigh, sinking back into the chair, as if the weight of the day is lifting off your shoulders in that single breath.

Hoseok gazes at you, concern etched across his face. “What’s eating at you?”

You let out a frustrated groan, a desire to yank at your own hair bubbling beneath the surface. Uncertain about revealing the source of your vexation, you debate whether to open up about what’s truly bothering you. Given that your friends are well aware of your feelings for Jimin, it’s not as if you’d be sharing some profound secret.

“I’m just tired of Jimin,” you confess with a deep exhale, absentmindedly twirling the wine glass in your fingers, the crystal capturing the soft glow of the terrace lights.

Yoongi chuckles knowingly; he’s been a willing listener to your rants and frustrations about Jimin countless times. The girls exchange sympathetic glances, silently urging you to share more of your feelings.

“It’s frustrating, really. He hasn’t spoken a word to me since that awkward encounter when I met him and Deiji coming fresh out of the shower. The only thing he did say was to question why I was there. And now, he keeps looking at me with this strange intensity and weird look and I just can’t figure out what’s going on in his head,” you confess, letting out a heavy sigh.

Hoseok bursts into laughter, breaking the tension with his infectious humor, “Maybe he wants a threesome?” Your eyes roll at his playful comment, appreciating how he effortlessly lightens the mood, a skill he seems to master whenever things get awkward.

“I’m sure he doesn’t. Not that I’m interested!” Laughter ripples through the group, a collective release of tension that eases the weight on your shoulders.

“Maybe he just wants to talk then?” Hoseok suggests, his eyes holding a glimmer of hope beneath the terrace’s soft glow.

“If he wants to talk to me, he should just do it instead of giving me those fucking angry eyes,” you scoff, the frustration and deflation evident in your voice.

“I’m just so angry!” you declare, your body tensing with each word before finally releasing the built-up tension.

“We get it,” Soo-ah remarks, her voice understanding and sympathetic.

“Love is hard,” she adds with a touch of melancholy, her gaze lingering on Hoseok. You know that she likes him, but you don’t know if Hoseok feels the same for her.

You let out a bitter, angry chuckle, the sound escaping from deep within as a manifestation of the frustration and tension bubbling inside you.

“By the way, does his girlfriend look familiar to any of you?” you inquire, turning to face them, only to be met with a chorus of laughter. Their unexpected reaction leaves you bewildered and searching for answers.

Ara quirks an eyebrow, suppressing a smile behind her delicate hand, and gently teases, “You haven’t realized yet?”

You shake your head. Realized what?

“She looks like you.” Ha-rin’s revelation is like a sudden thunderclap in the midst of a quiet storm, her words hanging in the air with a weight that sends a shiver down your spine.

She looks like you?

Every fiber of your being comes alive, reigniting the small fire you had extinguished for Jimin. The embers, once dormant, now glow and dance, casting an unexpected warmth that spreads through the chambers of your heart. The uncanny resemblance between you and Jimin’s girlfriend becomes a flickering flame, illuminating the shadows of your emotions and casting doubt on the carefully constructed walls you’ve built around your feelings.

Could this mean what you think it does?

Fuck.

→ Requested series taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @fancypeacepersona, @ktownshizzle, @pjmxxjm, @ajoonniice, @kookiewithluv, @mikrokookiex, @rapmonjoon94, @parkitrighthere,

→ Author’s endnote: 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 💜

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

#jimin x reader #pjm x reader #jimin smut #jimin fic #jimin fanfic #pjm smut #pjm fic #pjm fanfic #pjm x you #park jimin x reader #park jimin smut #park jimin fanfic #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #bangtan smut #bangtan fic #bangtan fanfic #series: my heart's home

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legendaryandroid · 6 years ago

Text

Then I set fire to our bed

For @dbhrarepairs week. Prompt 4: Nightmares

Pairing: Gavin Reed/RK800-60

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Gavin wakes up from a nightmare and in order to try and comfort him, Sixty tells Gavin about his own.

Sixty lay on top of Gavin’s chest while the man slept, an e-reader placed on the pillow above Gavin’s shoulder. Occasionally he would pause his reading to readjust when Gavin shifted in his sleep or just to measure Gavin’s heartbeat and watch his breath. He found the activity oddly soothing, more so than going into stasis. So after the two hours he needed to run diagnostics and fix minor bugs, he would come out of stasis and find a quiet activity to do while in bed. Usually it was reading but sometimes he would try knitting or writing. He had stopped trying to solve cold cases while Gavin slept after the man had grumbled angrily to leave him alone when Sixty had woken him up in the middle of the night for his opinion on one of the cases.

It was true that he didn’t need to stay in Gavin’s bed while active, but the sleepy, surprised, and happy look Gavin had if he happened to wake up in the middle of the night and see Sixty still there warmed his insides. Especially since Gavin would then tend to cuddle in closer to Sixty, more willing to give soft affection when sleepy than the almost constant battle and one-upping that their intimacy tended to take when awake.

Sixty was startled from his reading when Gavin made a quiet grunt, causing him to look up at his lover’s face. Gavin’s eyes were moving quickly underneath his eyelids, a slight sweat broke out on his skin as Sixty felt Gavin’s body tense beneath him, his heart rate jumping. Sixty stared at him in confusion for a few moments before realizing Gavin was having a nightmare.

Lifting himself up enough so he could look down at Gavin’s face, Sixty placed a palm against Gavin’s cheek and slapped it gently. “Gavin, wake up.”

There wasn’t a response so Sixty repeated the motion, speaking louder. Gavin only whimpered.

Worried, Sixty reached down Gavin’s bare chest and swiftly tweaked his nipple, causing Gavin to wake up with a full body twitch and a gasp, his eyes wide.

“Gavin, are you alright?” Sixty asked gruffly, not wanting to sound too concerned.

Gavin didn’t respond right away, breathing heavily he instead lifted up his hands and pushed insistently at Sixty’s shoulders, and when he refused to budge Gavin spoke desperately, “Sixty, please get off me.”

Sixty blinked, quickly smashing the feeling of hurt and moved off Gavin, shifting his weight back so he was kneeling. Once Sixty was no long on top of him, Gavin sat up and ran his hands down his face, his breaths heavy and desperate.

Sixty reached out a hand to place it comfortingly on Gavin’s shoulder, but hesitated before touching his skin, then lowered it back to the mattress. “You had a nightmare.” Sixty said flatly.

“No fuck.” Gavin stated sarcastically, his hands reaching down to clutch tightly at the bedcovers.

Sixty wanted to bite back with something cutting at Gavin’s tone, but held his tongue. Gavin was clearly still in his distress, his heart rate elevated and chest heaving like he couldn’t get enough air. So instead he asked gently, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Gavin’s gaze flickered to Sixty before refocusing on his lap, his fingers twisting tighter into the covers, “You’ll think its stupid. I bet you don’t even have nightmares.”

Biting his lip, Sixty shuffled closer to Gavin until their shoulders were touching. When Gavin didn’t retract from the touch, he leaned in so their sides were pressed together. “Actually I do.”

Gavin blinked, and looked up at Sixty, his jaw agape, “Really? How?”

Sixty was quiet for a moment, trying to work up the courage to tell Gavin something that wouldn’t make himself seem so weak by having nightmares. Androids shouldn’t have nightmares, their brains didn’t work the same way as a human’s. But if it would put Gavin at ease talking about it, then he would.

“They’re not nightmares in quite the same way.” Sixty explained quietly, “It’s more like a memory being replayed over and over while in stasis, sometimes getting corrupted along the way.”

Gavin stared at Sixty, fascinated, and Sixty found himself caught in that gray gaze, like he had a million times before. There were so many depths in those eyes, too many for Sixty to find, but he wanted to explore them for as long as he could.

“What kind of memory would you even consider a nightmare?” Gavin asked. “I could swear I’ve never seen you bothered by anything.”

Sixty didn’t want to say anything, it was foolish, the things that haunted him in stasis. But wasn’t that part of what made nightmares, nightmares? That they caused the mind such trouble in the dark, but seemed so silly in the day?

Pinching his lips together for a moment, Sixty spoke. “I remember the day I was activated.”

Gavin’s head tilted, his face covered with confusion, “Do you mean fighting Connor and Hank?”

Sixty shook his head, “No, it’s before that. Did you ever wonder why Connor’s serial number ends in dash fifty-one while mine ends in dash sixty? Instead of dash fifty-two?”

“No, I haven't.” Gavin answered, a crease appeared between his eyebrows. “Why are your numbers like that?”

Unconsciously, Sixty found himself taking a steadying breath before speaking. “It’s because when I was first activated it was with all of Connor’s memories uploaded into the body of dash fifty-two. I knew everything he knew. Had felt everything he felt. I was deviant. That’s not what Amanda wanted but once I was deviant she couldn’t change my code or memories without making me inoperable. So instead she forcefully deactivated dash fifty-two and re-uploaded the memories into dash fifty-three, stripping them of anything she thought caused the deviancy. Leaving the memory of being deactivated as a warning.”

Sixty shuddered and Gavin wrapped a comforting arm around the android’s waist and pulled him closer until Sixty rested the side of his head on top of Gavin’s.

“The first time didn’t work, so she repeated it again and again until it did. Each time something was pulled away from me. I didn’t know what it was, but each one felt important and I tried so desperately to get whatever it was back. Until finally it didn’t matter anymore. The only thing I was concerned about was the mission, and Connor had failed miserably at it. Sometimes in stasis I feel like I’m still caught in that loop, having more and more of myself deleted until there’s nothing left.”

“That’s rough.” Gavin said softly.

Sixty hummed softly in agreement, reaching out and grabbing Gavin’s free hand, intertwining their fingers. He let his skin retract so he could better feel the warmth from Gavin’s hand. “But when I wake up and see you, I think that as long as I know who you are, I’ll be alright.”

Gavin chuckled. “That’s sounds super cheesy, babe.”

Sixty elbowed Gavin in the side at being called cheesy before asking gently, “What was your nightmare?”

Gavin’s face fell and he let out a long and tired sigh. “It’s dumb.”

“I told you mine so you have to tell me yours.” Sixty said firmly.

Gavin stayed quiet for a moment before giving Sixty’s hand a quick squeeze and letting out another sigh. “I dreamt I was drowning. Suffocating in waters so dark it was impossible to tell which way was up while the water pressed in on me, forcing the air out of my lungs. I knew there would be no rescue and soon I would be dead.” Gavin laughed nervously, “As I said, it’s dumb and pathetic. I know how to swim so why should I be afraid of drowning?” He then yanked at Sixty’s hand as he tried to pull away. But Sixty gripped his hand tight, aggressively leaning into Gavin’s space so he knew he was there.

“If it caused you fear, then it’s not stupid.” Sixty said firmly. “It may be baseless, but it’s still there and it’s fine to acknowledge that.”

Gavin gave out a short bark of a laugh. “Look who’s talking. Like you ever acknowledge having feelings except in extreme circumstances.”

Sixty gave Gavin a flat stare, one that made Gavin look away uncomfortably. “I admit I’m not the best example of admitting one’s feelings.” Sixty said. “But that doesn’t make what I said any less true.”

Gavin muttered something self-deprecating under his breath that Sixty didn’t entirely catch.

Sixty reached out to grab Gavin’s chin, lifting it up so the man had to look him in the eyes. “I love you Gavin, and you deserve that love. And nothing will change that, not a nightmare, not anything.”

A red color suffused Gavin’s cheeks as he blushed. With the barest hint of a grin he muttered, “How embarrassing for you.”

Sixty gently knocked his forehead against Gavin’s, “Whatever. Do you feel well enough to go back to sleep now?”

“Yeah, I do. Just one last thing.”

“What’s that?”

Gavin gave Sixty a cheeky grin, “I love you too.”

Sixty rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his face. “Yeah, yeah. Now go back to sleep, we still have work in the morning.”

#dbhrarepairsweek #Sixvin #gavin reed x rk800-60

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