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#talking with zb
dykexenomorph · 2 months
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i hate to be the bear of bad news i think hazbin is just gonna become more mainstream and normal gradually. i had straight friends recommending me it cause they watched the entire thing. like something abt it has a large population in a choke hold :( save fags from bad musical shows and movies
TOP TEN MOST SICKENING, FRIGHTENING, AND HOPE DESTROYING ASKS OF ALL TIME.........don't say this to me.....we can defeat it if we just try hard enough......please god........
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theoniprince · 1 year
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Es ist seit Anbeginn der Zeit ein guter Ratschlag, sobald man Teil eines fandoms wird, keine zu hohen Erwartungen gegenüber den Verantwortlichen zu haben. Das ist legitimer Selbstschutz.
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rickybaby · 2 months
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I’ve been trying to upload a video for the past 30 mins. Thoughts and prayers if it ever gets uploaded 🙏🏽
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danthropologie · 11 months
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yeah bestie but when they say they wouldn't bet on checo keeping his seat they definitely mean l**** would be taking it, not daniel :(
based on literally what bestie 😭 the conversation was about daniel choosing red bull because while checo's done a pretty good job at securing his position within the team, he's done it more or less without being challenged and daniel wants to be that challenge. there was no mention of any other driver whatsoever 😭
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sephirothmon · 9 months
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Um . I
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apfelhalm · 2 years
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Vorhin auf der Autofahrt übrigens eine Rezension zum kommenden Tatort Dresden (?) gehört und da wurde als positiver Punkt hervorgehoben, dass das Privatleben der Ermittlerinnen da nicht zu sehr überhand nimmt. Bzuh?!?!? Excuse me sir, wenn ich meine Charaktere lieber etwas dreidimensionaler habe als die üblichen Pappaufsteller.
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beeribas · 1 month
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I feel incredibly bitchy today y'all
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stray-dude · 11 months
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i wonder if the people finding my stray art know. i wonder if they know just how gender he is. i wonder if they know i am he.
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literally me
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ingravinoveritas · 2 months
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Michael on the Zoe Ball Show this morning talking about David at the BAFTAs and I am dying. Notable excerpt:
ZB: "Ah, Michael Sheen, must say, well done to your mate DT at the BAFTAs." Michael: "Ohh, he did good. The boy did good!" ZB: "He did so good!" Michael: "And he looks good in a kilt as well, doesn't he?"
So...ten seconds into Michael's appearance on the show and David comes up (on St. David's Day, no less). And apropos of absolutely nothing, Michael brings up David looking good in that kilt. Unprompted. For no reason whatsoever. I need to lie down...
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kingofbodyrolls · 26 days
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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | ten
🐴Chapter summary: When Mikrokosmos goes missing, you don’t know what to do and when Jimin suddenly starts talking to you, wanting to help find your horse, you’re not sure if you should accept or not. When you can’t find Mikrokosmos and have to spend a night with Jimin in the wide open land, will old feelings bloom? 🐴Chapter title: The First Touch 🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc 🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters. 🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst 🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
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🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 🐴Chapter warnings: explicit smut in the form of unprotected sex; sex in public (they are outside in nature by themselves), oral (both male and female receiving), very very brief anal play (female receiving), nipple play, hair pulling, sweet/dirty talk, pet name (babe), cock warming, multiple orgasms, a loooooooot of kissing (so much that it should be illegal), just very slow and tender love making. Jimin is very gentle, but he is also a devil 👿 🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!) 🐴Word count: 16.4k (whoopps, but it’s smut!)
🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,
*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.
🐴Now playing 💿 “The First Touch” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?] 🐴Author’s note: hello, how are you doing? After weeks of leaving you high and dry and potentially crying, I finally come bearing a gift in the form of slow and sensual smut. I really hope you love it, otherwise, shame on you (I’m sorry I just really love it, and it will get dirtier later (yes, that was more smut promised!)). This chapter was so fucking fun to write, and can you belive I wrote it in a day? The last three previous chapters have been harder to write, because they were more angsty, but this, oh dear god, when I write smut and fluff, the words just flows differently 🥰 So I really hope that you enjoy this, I ended up turning myself on with the smut, so yeah… I hope that means that it is good, please let me know okay???
And I am so sorry for all the angst I put you through, if you need therapy like me, send me the bill, okay? 🥹 We also finally get some answers to Jimin’s behavior the last chapters!! I really hope you enjoy, and I hope you haven’t given up on this series 😭
PSA! For the ultimate reading experience, I recommend grabbing a warm blanket and something nice to drink (whatever you like; water, tea, cocoa etc) 🫂
It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.Wanna see the book cover?
← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →
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“When I finally touch you Soft upon your skin You travel to the heart of me And so it begins” - ‘The First Touch’ by Rebecca Lavelle
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You find yourself yearning for the ground to swallow you whole. The aftermath of the gala weighs heavily on your mind, and you’ve been evading Jimin ever since. Anger still lingers, but embarrassment overshadows it. Why on earth did you let yourself unleash such a torrent of emotions on him?
You release a frustrated groan, urging Marshmallow to stretch his stride, his powerful hooves churning up the earth beneath. The wind whips through your hair, carrying with it the anticipation of your imminent arrival at Bell Ranch.
Praying to avoid any encounter with Jimin or his undoubtedly furious girlfriend, you navigate the winding path to Bell Ranch with a knot of apprehension in your stomach. The thought of further embarrassment looms over you like a storm cloud, urging you to keep a low profile and escape unscathed.
Marshmallow ambles toward the pen, Yoongi immersed in his labor. Presently, his focus is on a horse adorned with a tapestry of brown and white spots, each stroke of his skilled hands an intimate dance with the wild spirit captured within the creature’s untamed gaze.
You bring Marshmallow to a stop, securing the reins to the fence, before settling into your customary perch. From this vantage point, you observe Yoongi, his hands orchestrating a ballet with the untamed energy of the horse.
Suddenly, a stir in the vicinity of the house catches your attention, prompting you to shift your gaze. There, you spot Jimin making his way toward you, an unusual limp in his stride suggesting he might have overexerted himself today. Despite the evident fatigue, he’s adorned in a button-down shirt, sleeves casually rolled up, revealing the golden hue of his skin and the well-defined contours of his biceps. A gentle breeze plays with his blonde locks as he traverses the yard.
A curiosity nags at you as you observe Jimin’s solitary figure, wondering about the absence of Deiji and the distant expression etched across his face, brows knit in contemplation. The air seems to carry the weight of his thoughts, leaving you to ponder what might be troubling him. Just as you’re caught in this web of speculation, the abrupt roar of an engine pierces the air, drawing your attention. Swiftly, Jimin mounts his blue dirt bike, tearing out of the yard with an intensity that propels him over hills and into the expanse of a distant paddock.
He’s likely headed off to some task, a sentiment that resonates with your own responsibilities awaiting attention. A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you shift your gaze back to Yoongi, his tender gestures toward the spotted horse capturing a moment of tranquility amidst the ranch’s bustling routine.
Yoongi’s playful grin widens as he teases, well aware that your attention involuntarily drifted towards Jimin once more. “How are you doing?”
A light chuckle escapes you. “Well, hanging in there. Just grappling with the lingering sense of embarrassment, you know?”
He erupts into laughter, the kind that reveals his gums and sets his chest into a hearty jiggle. “Got it. I heard Jimin’s girlfriend was less than thrilled with your little performance at the gala.”
You scoff, indifferent about his opinion. Regret lingers for your harsh words, a realization that an apology is overdue—a bridge you’ve yet to cross.
“I understand, but I was just so mad, and I couldn’t hold back,” you admit, your scuffed tone matching the internal storm that rages within, hands tightly clenched atop your legs.
“It’s alright. I don’t think Jimin minds. You’ve given him plenty to ponder,” he mentions, continuing to pat the spotted horse. Your raised eyebrow prompts him to elaborate.
“What do you mean?” you ask, curiosity sparking in your eyes, eager to understand his insinuation.
“The house has been unusually quiet since the gala. Maybe Jimin has taken your words to heart?” he suggests, eyebrows dancing in speculation. You scoff, skeptical of such a notion.
“Let’s shift the conversation, shall we? I’m done with Jimin,” you declare, though a part of you acknowledges that you’re far from finished with the unresolved tension. Uncertain whether you should approach Jimin – preferably without yelling this time – or wait for him to make the first move, you consider extending an apology to both him and Deiji.
Yoongi chuckles, orchestrating a rhythmic dance with the spotted horse as they traverse the pen at a leisurely pace. “Sure,” he replies with a hint of amusement in his voice.
A heavy sigh escapes you, and a pregnant pause lingers, only to be broken by Yoongi’s next words.
“I have a date with Hobi,” he announces, a radiant smile gracing his face, yet beneath the joy, a subtle tremor betrays a touch of nervous anticipation in his voice.
A grin spreads across your face, mirroring your genuine excitement. “That’s fantastic!” 
Your enthusiasm bubbles over, revealing just how genuinely thrilled you are for him.
Your eyes light up with genuine joy as you congratulate him, “I’m so happy for you, Yoon.” Your smile reflects the warmth and sincerity of your words.
A playful glint in his eyes, he teases, “Thank you, I’ll tell you how it goes.”
Anticipation bubbles within you, eager to hear the tales of their date, whenever they get to have it. As your thoughts wander, a silent wish lingers in the recesses of your mind—hoping for a touch of joy not just for Yoongi but for yourself as well, because you both deserve it, dammit.
“Are you ready to get Mikrokosmos home?” Yoongi’s question jolts you from your daydreams, nudging your focus back to reality. You silently curse yourself for entertaining thoughts about how their date would go and then your mind instantly wanders to sex. Damn, you really need to get laid. Why does your mind always have to go there?
You laugh nervously, your excitement bubbling to the surface. “Absolutely! I can’t wait to welcome Mikrokosmos home at last.”
“I’ll wrap things up here, and then we can ride her home together, sound good?” he suggests, a hopeful smile lighting up his face. You eagerly nod; a ride with the wind in your hair always has a way of soothing your heart.
As Yoongi wraps up his work with the spotted horse, coaxing it into accepting the halter, you watch attentively. Once done, he opens the gate, guiding the horse into a paddock. Together, you make your way to the stables to saddle up Mikrokosmos.
With unwavering patience, you nuzzle Mikrokosmos gently as you expertly fit the bridle and saddle onto her. Leading her out of the barn, you make your way down to the pen where Marshmallow awaits, tethered to the fence.
“Mind if I take Marshmallow? Later, Soo-ah or Ara can give me a ride home,” he proposes, deftly unfastening the reins from the fence. With a fluid motion, he swings one leg over Marshmallow’s sturdy back, securing himself in the saddle.
With a nod, you replicate the motion with Mikrokosmos. Grasping the stirrup, you press your weight onto your foot, smoothly swinging your body over the black mare’s back. A soft, airy whinny escapes her as you settle into the saddle.
“Let’s go!” you exclaim with enthusiasm, gently pressing your legs against Mikrokosmos’s side. She eases into a lazy canter before bursting into a steady gallop. Yoongi follows in your wake, and together, you ride over the hills, the sun casting a warm glow on your skin. In companionable silence, you savor the moment, connecting with nature and the rhythmic pulse of the horses beneath you.
Your heart races within your chest as you revel in the sensation of riding Mikrokosmos. Her movements feel like a dance, as if she’s carrying you to extraordinary places. Today, that destination is home. The anticipation builds as you look forward to having your horse with you at last. Countless hours of hard work have led to this moment, and the thought of bringing her home fills you with excitement and satisfaction.
The wind gently tousles your hair as you grip the reins, relishing the familiar sensation of freedom while riding. There’s a profound joy in being so intimately connected with nature. This feeling, the rush of wind, the rhythmic gait of the horse—it’s something you’ve truly missed. Since your dad took you away from the ranch, you’ve felt the absence keenly. Now, as you ride, you’re determined to reclaim everything you lost, to rediscover the simple yet profound joys that the ranch offers.
In no time, you and Yoongi arrive back at the familiar embrace of home. Guiding your horses up to the barn, you expertly stow them away, each finding comfort in their respective stalls.
As you and Yoongi make your way to the house, the air is suddenly pierced by the thunderous roar of an engine. Turning, you spot Jungkook’s sleek bike charging into the yard, your sister snugly positioned behind him. With a smooth halt, he steadies the bike, kicking the stand into place and plants his boots on the ground, unveiling his disheveled black hair as he removes the helmet. Following suit, Jessi frees her own brown locks, letting them playfully dance around her face in the breeze, a tandem display of casual grace as the bike’s engine settles into a quiet hum.
Your hand rises in a friendly wave, reciprocated by the warm smiles adorning both Jungkook and Jessi’s faces as they draw near.
“Hi,” resonates in perfect harmony from both, your sister’s fingers intimately intertwined with Jungkook’s. A twinge of happiness for them pulls at your heart, yet it’s hard not to let a tinge of personal sadness creep in as well.
Yoongi strolls up to Jungkook, nodding toward the bike, “Mind if I borrow that to ride home, in case you’re crashing here?”
Jungkook laughs and gives a casual nod, “Sure thing. Jessi’s playing chauffeur for me tomorrow.”
Yoongi grins with satisfaction, sharing a quick hug and bidding you farewell. He hops onto the dirt bike, revving the engine to life, the sound echoing through the air.
You stand there, watching as Yoongi rides off into the distance, a cloud of dust rising in his wake, the roar of the engine gradually fading into the peaceful surroundings.
“I’m going to grab a quick snack before dinner, do you want some?” You cast a casual glance toward your sister and Jungkook as you leisurely make your way toward the house.
“As long as it’s a sandwich, count me in,” Jungkook chuckles, with your sister in tow. The duo follows you into the house and converges in the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you survey the available ingredients for sandwich-making. Jungkook and Jessi settle at the small table on the side, eagerly anticipating the creation of the culinary delights.
You retrieve the bread, butter, and a medley of ham and cheese from the fridge. Your hands move with a rhythmic grace, deftly assembling the ingredients, all the while humming the sweet melody of a love song that resonates in the air.
“Have you talked with Jimin since the gala?”Jungkook’s question punctures the air, shattering the peaceful rhythm of your sandwich-making. The ingredients lay untouched as you turn your attention to him, his words echoing in the kitchen.
Without turning away from the task at hand, you respond to Jungkook’s inquiry, your voice laced with a mix of uncertainty and a tinge of regret. “No, and I’m not sure he even wants to talk to me after everything that happened.”
As you continue working, your back facing Jungkook and your sister, you sense his understanding nod and his voice carries a gentle insistence. “I really think you should talk to him this time.”
You pivot, your eyes locking onto Jungkook, a giant question mark etched across your face. 
“Why?” You inquire, curiosity and a hint of reluctance evident in your expression.
A sly smirk lingers on his lips, aggravating you further. The infuriating knowledge he possesses irks you to no end. “I think he has something to tell you,” he teases, and you find yourself caught between irritation and curiosity. A sarcastic chuckle escapes your lips as you refocus on the sandwiches, allowing the knife to slice through them, the sharp blade echoing your conflicted emotions.
“Here,” you offer, presenting Jungkook with a plate laden with half a dozen sandwiches, though your sister politely declines any.
You snatch one for yourself, shooting a casual yet meaningful glance back at them, “Enjoy.”
Savoring each bite of the sandwich, you ascend the stairs to your bedroom, where your eyes linger on the canvas mounted on the easel. The palette has shifted, with softer tones emerging – hints of pink intermingling with delicate whites and purples, forming a composition reminiscent of a blossoming cherry tree.
Sinking into the soft embrace of your bed, a cascade of thoughts floods your mind. The weight of an overdue apology to Jimin and his girlfriend hangs over you, a lingering echo from the turbulent gala. Yet, Jungkook’s mysterious hint at something he knows adds an intriguing layer to your contemplation. Recognizing the need for resolution, you resolve to extend the olive branch of an apology first, aiming to pave the way for a more composed and genuine conversation with Jimin. The anticipation of what both interactions might unveil stirs within you, pushing you to take the first step towards reconciliation.
In an unexpected twist of events, you drift into an unplanned slumber, the embrace of sleep enveloping you so thoroughly that dinner becomes a distant echo. No one ventures to rouse you, and you awaken later on your bed, a half-eaten sandwich still clutched in your hand. The rhythmic resonance of hooves reverberates, drawing you to the window. A herd of wild horses, led by the imposing brown stallion, unfolds in the yard, remarkably close. Its flaring nostrils and challenging hoof scratches paint a vivid picture of defiance. Despite the intriguing spectacle, weariness tugs at you as you wearily retreat to your bed.
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A disquieting sensation grips you, seeping into the very marrow of your bones and settling like a heavy stone in the pit of your stomach. An unsettling intuition whispers that things are amiss, and you can’t shake the ominous feeling that something, somewhere, has gone terribly wrong.
Emerging from your bed, your hair a tousled bird’s nest, you scan the room, finding the familiar unchanged. In the bathroom, the routine of brushing your teeth provides a momentary distraction as foam swells in your mouth, only to be expelled and washed away. The warm shower cascades over you, but an indefinable unease persists. Hastily drying off, you return to your room, donning a shirt and pants with urgency. Boots secured, hat in hand, you bound down the stairs, a sense of urgency propelling each step.
Entering the kitchen, a picture of concern greets you — Jungkook, your sister, Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin all wear furrowed brows, leaving you bewildered as to the unfolding situation.
“What’s happened?” You urgently inquire, your voice tinged with a mix of apprehension and foreboding, a silent acknowledgment that your unsettling intuition might have been onto something significant.
“The herd of wild horses were here last night,” Jungkook informs, a flicker of annoyance crossing his gaze as it shifts from your sister to you.
“Half of the horses are missing,” she exclaims, her voice tinged with frustration, a deep sigh escaping her. You stand there, gaping at them, a sinking feeling settling in. Half of the horses gone? The implications of this revelation weigh heavily on your mind, leaving you bewildered and searching for answers.
“How in the world are half of the horses missing?” you demand, furrowing your brows in disbelief. Nausea churns in your stomach as you contemplate which horses might be gone, a sense of urgency and worry gripping your every thought.
In a calm voice, Ha-rin explains, “It was the stallion. He kicked down the fence, and the horses bolted…”
You nod solemnly. Yoongi’s cautionary words about the troublesome stallion echo in your mind.
Your voice trembles with fear as you ask, “Which paddock?”
Jessi’s voice drops, “The East paddock,” she says, her anger seeping into every word as she sinks into a chair.
Realization crashes over you like a tidal wave. After stalling Mikrokosmos for the night, you released her into that same East paddock for some freedom—whatever freedom a fenced enclosure could offer. Oh, no. Could Mikrokosmos be among the missing horses?
“Mikrokosmos?” The word escapes your lips, a desperate plea wrapped in the echo of your worst fears. You don’t need them to confirm it; the sinking weight in your chest tells you everything. The truth is etched across their faces, mirroring the dread that’s settled in your bones since you woke up.
Fury courses through Jessi’s words as she spits out the painful truth, “She’s gone too, along with some of the other mares.” Her hand crashes down on the table, a symphony of anger and frustration. Jungkook steps in, his calming touch a feeble attempt to soothe the storm unleashed.
Hatred drips from Jessi’s words like venom as she rages, “That’s why I hate those damn wild animals! Always stealing our horses. That stallion probably wanted Mikrokosmos back…” Her words pierce the air, causing an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. Is she implying this is somehow your fault?
You begin to protest, “I didn’t have anything to do with this,” but Jessi dismisses your words with a quick and dismissive wave.
“I don’t think you did. I’m not blaming you. I’m just furious at that wretched stallion,” she explains, her anger palpable and raw, but there’s a softer edge to her words too.
It’s a relief to know she doesn’t pin this on you, that you’re not burdened with the blame. A soft sigh escapes your lips.
“So, what’s the plan then?” You inquire, scanning the faces in the crowded kitchen, a sense of urgency in your voice.
“We need to mend that fence, Jungkook, can we count on you for help?” Your sister implores, turning to him with a hopeful expression. He responds with a firm nod and a reassuring grip on her shoulder.
“Of course.”
“Feel free to track down the wild horses and check if you can locate them. Unfortunately, we’re short-handed today,” your sister suggests, rising from her seat and gazing out the window.
“No worries. I’ll head over to Yoongi and see if he can spare some time to join me,” you assure them with a gentle smile. Beneath the surface, a mix of sadness and frustration bubbles as you long for Mikrokosmos to return.
With determined steps, you rush out of the house and bound up to the stables, the urgency echoing in your every movement. In the quiet embrace of the stable, Marshmallow awaits, his presence a comforting balm to your racing thoughts. Swiftly, you open the door, embracing him in a soft hug before gearing him up with a bridle and saddle. Together, you emerge from the barn, and with a decisive leap, you saddle up, urging Marshmallow into a gallop, heading towards the Bell ranch with determination in your heart.
The wind tenderly weaves through your hair once more, a melancholic symphony echoing the turbulence within. Fueled by a potent mix of sorrow and frustration, your heart clenches with a resolute desire to reclaim what’s rightfully yours. Your grip tightens around the reins, a silent vow etched in your clenched fists, urging Marshmallow to race faster, the earth stirs in a tumultuous dance beneath his thundering hooves.
The pen materializes on the horizon, and there, amidst the rhythmic ballet of wild horses, you spy Yoongi immersed in his labor. Urging Marshmallow to a thunderous gallop, you charge towards the pen. With an abrupt tug on the reins, the air fills with the gritty harmony of skidding hooves as Marshmallow halts, an abrupt punctuation that seizes Yoongi’s attention. Descending from Marshmallow, you plant your feet on the ground with a flourish, the dust settling around you like a curtain call.
“What’s wrong?” He queries, a flicker of concern lighting up his features, as your uncharacteristic entrance sends ripples of tension through the air. 
“The damn stallion,” you seethe, your breaths punctuated with fury, “he’s run off with Mikrokosmos.”
Yoongi’s eyes widen in shock, but without hesitation, he declares, “I’ll help you search for her.” You nod in gratitude as he leads his brown horse out of the pen, and you guide Marshmallow to the stables, anticipation coursing through both of you.
Prepared and determined, you and Yoongi lead your horses by the reins out to the yard, a shared sense of urgency fueling your quest to find Mikrokosmos.
Yoongi gathers the reins in his hand and directs your focus to the task at hand, “We’ll start looking at the Eastern paddock, okay?” Just as the urgency builds, Jimin emerges from his house, adding an unexpected twist to the unfolding events. You shoot him a questioning look as he stands before you, curiosity and apprehension blending in your gaze.
“What are you up to?” Jimin questions, catching both you and Yoongi off guard. The unexpectedness of his inquiry leaves you standing there, dumbfounded, your shared silence reflecting the tension that lingers between you and Jimin.
“The wild stallion snatched Mikrokosmos last night; we’re going to search for her,” Yoongi explains, his voice filled with urgency, his movements swift as he places his foot in the stirrup and gracefully swings his body over the horse’s back. The gravity of the situation hangs heavy, and you can feel the collective determination to retrieve your horse cutting through the morning air.
“I can help,” Jimin offers, his voice carrying a light and airy tone that catches you off guard. You stare at him, momentarily questioning your senses—did he really just say that? The unexpected offer hangs in the air, and you’re left wondering what might be going on in his mind.
Yoongi and you both fixate on him, and Jimin responds with a soft chuckle, the contours of his chest subtly moving beneath his shirt.
“I can assist. That way, Yoongi can focus on his tasks,” he suggests, approaching Yoongi and motioning for him to dismount so they can swap positions. Yoongi glances at you, seeking approval for the change. Meanwhile, you continue to stare blankly at both Yoongi and Jimin. The situation feels oddly surreal—Jimin offering to help you search for your horse, especially considering the tense silence since the heated exchange at the gala. This ride might just turn out to be the most awkward one of your life.
“Sure,” Yoongi concedes, dismounting from the horse. He hands the reins to Jimin, who skillfully collects them in his hands. With a swift motion, Jimin places his boot in the stirrup and swings his body over the horse, mirroring Yoongi’s earlier move.
Silent as a shadow, you remain grounded, words held captive within the walls of your thoughts.
With a subtle tug on the reins, Jimin redirects the horse, casting a teasing glance your way, “Are you coming or what?”
Jimin’s playful remark snaps you back to the present, and without a second thought, you slip your foot into the stirrup, effortlessly swinging your leg over Marshmallow’s back.
You trail behind Jimin, bidding farewell to Yoongi, who lingers with a knowing smile. Silently cursing him for abandoning you in the company of Jimin, you brace for the imminent awkwardness. Despite the uncertainty, the urgency of finding Mikrokosmos eclipses any reservations—you’re grateful for any help that might lead to her return.
Jimin confidently guides his horse, setting the pace as you both return to your ranch. The eastern paddock looms ahead, where Jungkook and Jessi ardently mend the broken fence. Their curious gazes lock onto you, expecting Yoongi but finding Jimin at your side instead.
Venturing deeper into the forest, the towering trees cast a verdant embrace around you. Silence hangs heavy between you and Jimin, a palpable tension that begs to be shattered. It dawns on you that speaking up might be the only way to dispel this awkward atmosphere before it becomes a permanent fixture.
Amidst the rustling leaves and dappled sunlight, you finally muster the courage to break the awkward silence. “I’ve been meaning to say, I’m sincerely sorry about the gala. I hope my words didn’t cross a line with you or upset Deiji too much,” you confess, your gaze sweeping through the foliage in search of any sign of the elusive wild horses.
His laughter dances through the air, a warm melody amid the rustling leaves. “It’s fine. Did it feel good getting off your chest?”
A subtle blush graces your cheeks, and you admit, “It did. I’m still sorry, though. Sorry that your girlfriend had to hear that, and for pointing at her like that.”
You release a soft sigh, reminiscing about the regrettable way you conducted yourself.
He laughs again, the sound echoing like sweet melodies in your ears, yet the mystery behind his continuous laughter leaves you utterly perplexed.
“She did not like it,” he starts, weaving his words with the rustling leaves as you venture into uncharted territory beneath the expansive canopy of a towering, ancient tree.
“I deeply regret my words and actions,” you offer in earnest, the weight of remorse evident in your voice.
“It’s fine. We actually broke up,” his words hang in the air, a revelation that jolts you, and you swivel your head towards him so swiftly you fear a case of emotional whiplash.
Your words tumble out rapidly, laced with uncertainty, as you press him for answers, “You broke up? Why?” The shifting dynamics between you two send your heart racing, and the reins in your sweaty palms seem to tighten with anticipation.
In a hushed tone, he reveals, “She was tired of being compared to you.” 
His voice carries a soft, steady cadence, devoid of anger, as though he’s entrusted you with a profound secret. He turns to face you, a gentle smile playing on his lips, revealing his slightly crooked teeth. His eyes disappear behind lowered eyelids as he adds, “She isn’t you.”
A suspended moment, as if time itself hesitates, your heart momentarily halts its rhythmic dance within your chest. Breath catches, and for a beat, you’re left in breathless suspension—did he truly utter those words? The weight of his revelation seeps into your weary frame, and a blossoming warmth unfurls within your chest. The air lightens, the sun bestows its gentle touch on your skin, and you find yourself smiling at him, words caught in the surge of emotions.
“I also had a conversation with Yoongi,” he reveals, and you find yourself gaping in astonishment. The horses have settled into a leisurely walk, a welcome reprieve as you grapple with the influx of information, making it nearly impossible to focus on the ride.
“He mentioned the kiss,” he confesses, and you detect a glimmer of pain in his eyes. Yet, it doesn’t weigh as heavily as it once did; there’s a newfound lightness in his demeanor as he continues, “Yoongi explained that he’s gay, and that the kiss was merely a friendly gesture.”
You nod, each word he utters peeling away layers of weight from your shoulders. It’s precisely the message you’ve been struggling to convey all along. However, you hesitated to betray Yoongi’s confidence by revealing it. Yet, confessing to Hoseok about Yoongi’s feelings for him seemed to work wonders, paving the way for their upcoming date.
“That’s what I desperately wanted to convey that day, you know... but you slammed the door shut in my face,” you confess, a tinge of sorrow sweeping over your heart at the memory of the pain etched on Jimin’s face that day. While you comprehend the source of his hurt and anger, the lingering confusion remains about why he refused to engage in conversation or hear your side of the story.
“I’m sorry. I was just so hurt at the time. Later, when I noticed how close you were to Yoongi, I jumped to conclusions and assumed you were dating him,” he chuckles, the sound carrying a tinge of sadness as he reminisces about the past. “Fortunately, he clarified things for me, assuring me that you two are just friends and always have been.”
“That’s right. We’re just best friends. Honestly, he’s like the annoying brother I never asked for,” you chuckle, a weight lifting off your shoulders. Yet, an indescribable sensation begins to bloom within your chest, a mix of warmth and tingles, leaving you intrigued by its unfamiliar presence.
“I’m so sorry. I really should have talked to you and listened. I’m so sorry.” As Jimin utters his apology, his voice echoes with remorse, a melody of regret that resonates within you. It’s a bittersweet symphony, soothing to finally hear, yet you ponder the missed opportunities for dialogue that could have averted the storm unleashed by this stupid mistake and now your recent outburst. The apology, though overdue, forms a bridge between you, and you find solace in the fact that, at last, you stand on the same side of understanding. 
“I had hoped for you to listen back then as well. But, let’s leave the echoes of the past behind, shall we?” Your suggestion carries the weight of anticipation, a sense of hopeful exploration into uncharted territories. He nods in agreement, yet a palpable silence, thick with the unsaid, envelops you both. The journey continues in quietude, but within that stillness, you sense the unspoken words echoing in the lingering gaze of his brown eyes, a silent conversation that paints the canvas of possibility.
As twilight descends and the hours in the saddle accumulate, your fatigue is etched into the soreness of your seat. The weariness must surely weigh on Jimin too, his body silently protesting the prolonged ride. Amidst the encroaching darkness, Mikrokosmos remains elusive, a mystery yet to unfold, and the elusive presence of the wild horses eludes your diligent search.
Frustration settles over you like a heavy cloak, and an audible sigh escapes your lips, carrying the weight of your disappointment. Just as the gloom threatens to deepen, a rebellious rumble emanates from your stomach, capturing Jimin’s attention and coaxing a playful laugh from him.
“Hungry?” His question, a beacon of concern, draws a nod from you, and you respond by absently rubbing your stomach as if coaxing it to silence the persistent growls of hunger.
As the undeniable pangs of hunger echo through your stomach, you admit with a rueful tone, “I forgot to eat before we left,” the regret audible in your voice.
In a gentle yet scolding tone, he remarks, “That’s not good, you know. It’s important to eat.” Leaning towards you, he suggests, “I think we should call it a day and head back. It’s getting late anyway.”
As you nod, a flicker of disappointment crosses your face. The elusive search for Mikrokosmos remains unfulfilled today. Yet, a spark of hope ignites within you as you remind yourself, there’s always tomorrow, right?
“Then you can get something to eat, a good night’s sleep and then I’ll pick you up tomorrow and we can continue the search?” His soft smile and warm, glowing brown eyes captivate you, quickening your heartbeat. With a hopeful nod, you sense something stirring deep within your stomach — a sensation that goes beyond hunger, something akin to the birth of hope.
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The rhythmic tapping on your door pulls you from slumber, and you respond with a drowsy yet receptive, “Yes?”
You emit a groan of protest as the door inches open, revealing a fully alert Jimin. Clad in a snug white tee, its slight transparency inadvertently exposing the soft hue of his pink nipples, you chide yourself for letting your gaze linger. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you note his dark blue jeans, strategically torn at the knees, leaving you curious if it’s a deliberate fashion choice or a result of untamed adventures. His hands nonchalantly find refuge in his pockets, drawing your attention to the pronounced veins that traverse his arms, subtly visible in the soft light of dawn.
As you rise from your bed, a sudden awareness floods your mind, recalling the choice of your sleepwear—a camisole paired with shorts that might be deemed too short for comfort. Hastily, you reach for the duvet, intending to conceal a portion of your body, only to inadvertently accentuate the contours of your chest. The fabric presses against your breasts, and you can’t help but notice the subtle shift in his gaze, his eyes lingering on the unintended display of cleavage.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he chuckles, advancing deeper into your room. His gaze sweeps across the array of your personal belongings, lingering on the easel in the corner adorned with a painting bursting with vibrant hues— a stark contrast to your previous, darker works. Despite your eye roll, you pull yourself out of bed, allowing the duvet to cascade from your body. In that moment, you sense his eyes tracing every contour of your nearly naked form.
“Just a minute,” you reply, swiftly retrieving a t-shirt and pants from your closet, tossing them onto the bed. Jimin’s gaze lingers on you, a subtle intensity that sets your hair on fire, the air thick with an indescribable energy. “Mind if I take a shower first?” you ask, breaking the charged silence.
He chuckles, running a hand through his tousled blonde hair. “No time for that. Besides, you already smell nice.” His playful demeanor adds a spark to the moment, making you smile in spite of the urgency.
A blush tints your cheeks. Did he just say you smell nice? You did take a bath yesterday after dinner, but you’re not entirely convinced you actually smell nice. Nevertheless, he’s spot on about time slipping away – you can’t afford to lose daylight like you did yesterday.
“Fine,” you hiss, the word escaping through a playful smirk. Chuckling softly, you grab your clothes from the bed and dash out of your room, disappearing into the bathroom. 
Returning to your bedroom, you discover Jimin holding a photograph featuring the three of you. His smile reflects the captured moment as you take the frame from his hand. “I found it a few weeks ago. Isn’t it just adorable?” The warmth of nostalgia floods the room, threading through the air as the image triggers shared memories.
A smile graces your face as you gaze at the photograph capturing the innocence of childhood, featuring you, your sister, and Jimin at the tender age of eight. Bright, childish smiles illuminate the image, with chubby cheeks and round faces. You and your sister playfully squish Jimin in the middle, a moment frozen in time that radiates cuteness. Reflecting on it, you marvel at the transformation; once adorable, Jimin now exudes a different allure, an almost dangerous charisma, akin to the allure of sin.
“It was good times,” nostalgia colors his words as a warm smile graces Jimin’s lips. Without a word, he walks past you, hand reaching out to intertwine with yours, a gentle pull guiding you downstairs to the kitchen. In that touch, echoes of good times and cherished memories bridge the gap between past and present.
“Here you go,” Ha-rin offers you a bundle of carefully prepared food, a thoughtful gesture that instantly makes you feel cared for. Simultaneously, Jimin secures water bottles, gearing up for the day’s journey. The barn becomes a hub of activity as his sleek black horse stands poised, laden with sleeping mats and saddlebags filled with provisions. The air buzzes with anticipation as you prepare for the adventure ahead.
“You’re really prepared,” amused by the thorough preparations, you share a light chuckle while heading into the stable to retrieve Marshmallow, your trusted companion for the impending journey.
“Yeah, that way, if we still don’t find her, we can just sleep out there instead of having to ride all the way back and start over again tomorrow.” His practical explanation resonates with you as you prepare Marshmallow, donning him with a bridle and securing the saddle. Anticipating the possibility of an extended search, you fasten saddlebags, graciously accepting the additional supplies from Jimin, ensuring you’re well-equipped for the journey ahead.
His strategic approach resonates, and you nod in agreement, a surge of determination coursing through you as you gear up for the mission to locate Mikrokosmos.
Guiding Marshmallow from the stable into the morning sunlight, you revel in the warmth that has lingered for months. With reins in hand, boots in the stirrups, and a shared determination with Jimin, you swing into the saddle, urging your horses into a brisk trot toward the Eastern paddock.
The silence becomes a tangible presence, weaving an awkward tapestry around you. Armed with the knowledge of Jimin’s recent breakup, a peculiar tension lingers. He’s now within reach, available, and your desire for him simmers beneath the surface. The challenge lies in navigating this uncharted territory, uncertain of how to bridge the gap between longing and action.
After a few hours in the saddle, you take a well-deserved break, replenishing your energy with a quick snack and a sip of water. The brief pause allows you to catch your breath, fortifying yourself before embarking on the ongoing quest to find Mikrokosmos.
Between bites of the delicious sandwiches Ha-rin crafted for you, you cast a concerned glance at Jimin. 
“Are you okay?” Your attention focuses, especially on his leg, as you inquire about his well-being.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he reassures you, as though casually dismissing the likely pain he’s enduring.
“I know that long rides can strain your leg, and I don’t want you to push yourself too hard,” you express with concern, your voice softening. The last thing you want is for him to endure any pain because of you.
“It’s okay,” despite his soft smile and dismissal, you can’t shake the feeling that he’s in pain. It reflects in the furrow of his forehead and the way he favors his left leg, dragging his right leg more than usual. Stubborn, you think, as you let him have his way, but deep down, you know he’s masking the discomfort.
As you take a sip of water, you gently probe, “I remember you telling me about your accident, but what was it like for you afterward?”
With a gentle smile, he begins, “As I told you earlier, I underwent surgery after the accident. It lasted for hours, leaving me with numerous scars on my hip. I despise them; they keep reminding me of that day,” his voice resonates with a mix of sadness and lingering anger. “It happened when I was alone, unable to move or feel my legs. My foot was trapped in the stirrup, the horse struggling to rise immediately after the fall.”
Empathy wells up within you as he recounts the harrowing details. It sounds truly dreadful. Reflecting on the first time he mentioned the incident, you realize he held back so many of these distressing details.
As he exhales, a poignant mixture of sadness and defeat tinges his voice. “Finally, the horse got up and ran off, presumably back home. A few hours later, Jungkook found me and took me to the hospital,” he shares, his recollection carrying the weight of a painful memory.
“Learning to walk again was also pretty hard. But I managed,” he confides, a resilient smile lighting up his eyes. In that moment, you find yourself smiling back, realizing the depth of his strength. Despite the pain, he’s willingly embarking on this quest with you—a testament to the extraordinary kindness that defines this man. He is truly too kind for his own good.
“I’m so sorry,” you utter, a genuine ache in your voice, yearning to alleviate even a fraction of the pain etched across his features.
“It’s life, I guess,” he murmurs with a touch of vulnerability, his shoulders lifting in a nonchalant shrug as he concludes his sandwich, deftly stowing away the remnants into the saddlebags.
“Ready to continue?” He inquires, rising to his feet and dusting off his pants. Following suit, you tidy up, brushing away the dirt from your clothes. Grabbing the reins of Marshmallow, you mount him once more. With the sky shifting from orange to purple in the approaching dusk, the urgency propels you to search fervently for Mikrokosmos.
You’re hit with a wave of disappointment as the realization sinks in that Mikrokosmos won’t be found today either. Frustration knots in your stomach, and a heavy sigh escapes, echoing your dejected feelings.
“We will continue tomorrow,” under the star-studded sky, Jimin’s comforting words envelop you like a gentle embrace. The vast expanse of the open land, with trees and mountains on the horizon, hints at the distance you’ve covered—perhaps even farther than the previous day. Tomorrow holds the promise of a new search, a fresh chance to reunite with Mikrokosmos.
“Fine.”
Resigned, you dismount Marshmallow, carefully removing his bridle and saddle, placing them on the ground with a sense of weary determination. Jimin mirrors your actions with his own horse, unfurling sleeping mats that create a makeshift bed beneath the starlit sky. Blankets join the ensemble, and side by side, you both recline, gazing upward. The stars, like distant diamonds, twinkle in the vast canvas of the night sky, creating a breathtaking image of beauty.
As you lay there, surrounded by the gentle rustling of grass and the fragrant whispers of wildflowers, a part of you can’t help but believe that this is the stuff dreams are made of. The soft earth cradles you, a natural mattress beneath the vast expanse of the cosmos, each star above a guardian in the nocturnal symphony orchestrating your descent into slumber.
The night breeze plays a gentle melody around you, and you sense Jimin shifting beside you. Your eyelids flutter open, and you gracefully turn your head to meet his presence in the tranquil darkness.
“You know that brother’s talk…” in the hushed embrace of the nocturnal wilderness, Jimin’s voice resonates like a sacred incantation. He breaks the silence with a low, calm tone, his words weaving through the night’s symphony of your shared breaths, distant crickets, and the flickering dance of fireflies.
His words, like an unexpected gust of wind through the serene night, jolt you awake. Tension grips your body, and a nervous gulp escapes your throat, shattering the fragile cocoon of impending sleep.
His words cut through the tranquil night, each syllable heavy with the weight of his vulnerability. In the dimness, his eyes lock onto yours, revealing a hurt that lingers like a shadow, haunting the depths of his gaze. “It really hurt... seeing you with Jungkook,” he confesses, laying bare the ache that still throbs within him.
As your heart sways with remorse, your hand moves instinctively, bridging the gap between you and Jimin. Gently, your fingers trace the contours of his cheek, a silent apology etched in the tender gesture. “I’m so sorry. Both that it happened and that you had to see it,” your words hang in the night air, a delicate offering of regret that seeks solace in the quiet.
Jimin’s hand intertwines with yours, and his touch becomes a comforting anchor in the obsidian night. “It’s okay. Stuff happens. I just like you so much, it made me really angry,” his words, a vulnerable confession, echoing beneath the starlit canopy. 
“I’m sorry. I really like you too. And I didn’t know he was your brother at that time, I’m sorry.” The apology lingers in the night air as you gravitate closer to Jimin. His breath, a gentle caress, plays on your skin. Proximity tightens the space between you until your noses almost touch. A symphony of rapid heartbeats reverberates in the silence. 
An electric charge courses through you as Jimin cups your cheek, his gaze penetrating into the depths of your soul, intertwining two fates under the starlit embrace.
A subdued moan escapes your lips as his touch fans the flames within, setting ablaze the desires you’ve long suppressed. It’s that magnetic pull, the sensation lingering each time Jimin’s presence envelops you, a denial unraveling at last. The tension snaps, akin to a taut elastic band reaching its limit. Eternity seems to pass as you lock eyes with him, noses grazing. Inevitably, his plush, inviting lips find yours. Your hands eagerly cup his cheeks, drawing him closer, intensifying the kiss—a convergence of longing and surrender, an electric union that transcends mere touch.
His lips, plush and tender, evoke the sensation of cotton candy—irresistible, almost ethereal. 
In this stolen moment, the kiss becomes an endless dance, a rhythmic exchange that could easily stretch into eternity. A dormant ember within you, quiet for far too many moments, now kindles to life. The realization floods your senses, a surge of awareness that travels down to where desire ignites. Your panties dampen, awakening the passion swirling between you and Jimin.
Jimin expertly rolls you over, maintaining the unbroken connection of your lips. As he gracefully assumes the position above, a tantalizing dance ensues. The subtle pressure of his hips against your crotch sends shivers through your being. You can feel his erect cock, concealed beneath denim, pressing fervently against you. In a harmonious rhythm, he grinds down, a symphony of need escaping him, as he moans into your mouth.
You gasp for breath, the air thick with lust, your eyes locking onto Jimin’s, both sets heavy-lidded and pupils dilated, mirroring the intoxication that courses through your veins. It’s a heady sensation, a collision of longing and desire that feels almost surreal but undeniably right. Your fingers find his cheeks once more, a possessive urgency guiding your movements as you draw him down towards you. As your lips meet in a fervent kiss, the hunger between you intensifies, a voracious yearning that’s been building for months. Each brush of your lips against his is a moment suspended in time, where your need is laid bare, and the surreal truth of it all leaves you breathless – a fantasy finally materializing into reality.
Jimin gently pulls away, a glistening strand of saliva lingering between your parted lips like an invisible tether, a tangible testament to the magnetic force pulling you both back. His breath hitches, a raw intensity in his eyes as he utters, “Fuck. I want you so bad.”
He exhales, a tangible wave of frustration emanating from him as he plunges back into another searing kiss. His tongue, a silent plea, prods at the barrier of your lips, and in a breathless agreement, you grant him entry. Tongues entwined, a passionate dance ensues, heightened by the rhythmic grind of your core against his. The ache of desire consumes you, a primal need that has been dormant for what feels like an eternity. It’s a shared hunger, an unspoken acknowledgment of mutual longing, as if both of you are starved for each other’s touch.
His hands travel down, tracing the contours of your stomach beneath the fabric of your shirt. A soft, involuntary giggle escapes your lips, betraying the ticklish sensation that dances across your skin. His touch ventures further, slipping beneath the shirt, and you’re met with a surge of anticipation. The warmth of his palms cups your breasts, the delicate barrier of the bra heightening the sensory encounter. A moan escapes into the heated exchange of the kiss, the responsive melody to his skilled touch, as your nipples respond, hardening within the confines of your bra.
You reluctantly part, the air charged with desire, and you confess breathlessly, “I want you so bad too, Jimin.”
Your fingers glide along the contours of his snug shirt, tracing the rhythmic dance of his abdominal muscles beneath the fabric. The aftermath of your prolonged kisses paints his lips a tantalizing shade of red. His tousled, golden locks only add to the captivating disarray of his appearance, a visual symphony that threatens to engulf your senses. Rising with a newfound determination, you assertively push him away, breaking the intoxicating proximity. “I need that shirt off,” you declare, a hunger lingering in your eyes, aching to explore the canvas beneath.
You eagerly tug at his shirt, a silent invitation that he willingly accepts, lifting his arms in a seamless motion to unveil his honey-colored, velvety skin. As your hand grazes over his pectorals, the rhythmic pulse beneath your fingertips resonates with the accelerated beat of his heart—mirroring the anticipation that courses through your own veins. Your gaze traces a tantalizing descent, capturing the sculpted landscape of his face, collarbones, and the inviting expanse of his stomach, where a subtle trail of brown hair beckons you further. The air is charged with desire as your fingers deftly find his belt, unbuckling it, each deliberate motion a step closer to unraveling his dick hiding in his pants.
A throaty moan escapes him, a vulnerable symphony of desire, as you expertly undo his belt. Returning to him, your lips meet in a kiss, the touch soft and tender, like an intimate promise whispered between you two. In the gentle exchange, he tastes like a blend of love and flowers, a heady combination that lingers in the air. Brimming with anticipation, your hands deftly navigate the delicate task of unbuttoning and pulling down his pants, a challenging feat in the confined space of your current sitting position.
Your hand boldly cups his cock, the fabric of his underwear the only barrier between your skin and the pulsating dick beneath. A soft hiss escapes his lips, a symphony of pleasure and anticipation, as you sense the subtle twitch, a physical manifestation of the intensity building between you. The desperate yearning within you intensifies, aching for him with every heartbeat, and as you explore the contours of his cock, the undeniable thickness in your grasp fuels the flames of desire, leaving you breathless with need.
Breaking away from the intoxicating exchange of kisses, you lock eyes with his nearly obsidian orbs, the depth of his gaze holding a universe of unspoken desires. 
“Can I touch you, Jimin?” you inquire, the words charged with both vulnerability and a raw, palpable need.
His teeth capture his bottom lip, a silent struggle playing out as he releases a frustrated exhale. Finally, with a resolute nod, “Fuck, yeah.” 
He raises his hips in anticipation, granting you the freedom to skillfully peel away both his pants and underwear, leaving them discarded somewhere behind you in a forgotten tangle. In this suspended moment, you revel in the sight of him, completely exposed in all his naked glory—an embodiment of your deepest, most intimate fantasies. His beauty surpasses even the vivid images painted by your most explicit dreams. With unabashed admiration, your eyes roam over his form, settling on the scars that grace his hips, perilously close to his crotch. A particularly long one commands attention, stretching from the pinnacle of his hip and tracing a courageous journey downward, almost reaching his knee. Your fingers delicately follow the path of this scar, a silent tribute to the tales etched into his skin.
As your touch navigates the landscape of his scars, you witness the subtle interplay of tension and release in his body, a testament to the vulnerability that accompanies such intimate revelations. His cock responds with a telltale twitch, betraying the electric charge that courses through him in response to your every caress. 
Among the prominent, sprawling scar that graces his hip, you notice a constellation of smaller, shorter scars, each telling its own story. With a delicate touch, your fingertips embark on a tender exploration, tracing the intricate map of his history etched into his skin. 
Meanwhile, his eyes remain hooded, a veil of pleasure shrouding them, while his head arches backward, supported by his hands resting behind him. The cadence of his breath is a slow, deliberate rhythm, accentuating the intimate atmosphere that envelops you both. His teeth find refuge in his bottom lip once more, a silent testament to the waves of sensation cascading through him at your every touch.
“My scars are ugly, don’t look at them,” he confesses, his voice carrying a weight of vulnerability, as if he bears the weight of shame. The realization hits you like a wave—perhaps no one has ever taken the time to remind him that, even adorned with scars, he is undeniably beautiful. Gazing into his eyes, you speak with a gentle resolve, “You are beautiful, and so are your scars.”
With tender determination, your fingers resume their exploration, tracing the intricate paths of his scars. The touch is a reassurance, a gentle affirmation of his worth, and as your fingertips dance along the imprints of his past, a ripple of shivers courses through him. In response, an involuntary twitch emanates from his cock between his legs.
He dismisses your words with a subtle shake of his head, skepticism clouding his expression, but you’re determined to rewrite the narrative etched into his self-perception. He needs to understand the depth of his beauty and uniqueness. Your fingers resume their tender dance, tracing teasingly along the ridges of his scars, each touch carrying the weight of your conviction. “These scars,” you affirm, “they tell your story, a story of resilience and strength. And, my god, they are beautiful, just like you.” 
The words hang in the air, a testament to your unwavering belief in the profound beauty etched into the very fabric of his being.
Witnessing the softening of his gaze, a solitary tear breaking free from the confines of his eyes, you seize the poignant moment to plunge back into a kiss with his lips—soft and plush, like a velvet haven. It’s a moment that transcends time, and in those stolen seconds, you realize you could lose yourself in the artistry of his lips for an eternity.
Heaving with the weight of shared intimacy, his breaths resonate with depth and intensity. As he withdraws, the shadows of his eyes glisten with unshed tears in the night. With a voice that trembles with sincerity, he utters, “Thank you,” a phrase that echoes with layers of gratitude and vulnerability.
Gazing into his eyes, you observe a vulnerability that renders him utterly exposed, laid bare before you. In the depth of his gaze, a profound mixture of emotions surfaces, the hues of desire and longing mingling with the rich brown of his eyes. Embracing him, you pull him into the sanctuary of a hug, your lips brushing against his ear as you murmur, “I’ll keep telling you forever, because I feel like you need to hear it.”
Gently trailing your hand down the terrain of his stomach, your fingertips navigate the uncharted territory until they encounter his neglected cock. The moment your touch cradles him, a guttural groan, steeped in the heady brew of desire, escapes him, echoing in the charged air around you. Your fingers embark on a careful exploration, appreciating the girth and thickness of his dick, veins almost popping out of the poor thing. The flushed redness of the head and a delicate sheen of precum only intensify the allure. Licking your lips in anticipation, you lower yourself. Your lips encircle the engorged head, and in response, a deep, primal moan reverberates from him, resonating with the harmonious dance between pleasure and need that binds you together.
Reclining amidst the soft embrace of grass and wildflowers, you have somehow trailed off your sleeping mats, but you don’t care. Your tongue embarks on an intricate exploration, tracing a sinuous path along his cock, each lick an artful dance that circles around him with an unspoken promise of ecstasy. You’re drooling, and your saliva runs down your cheeks, down his cock and down to his balls.
His dick fills your mouth with a perfect fullness, a tangible overflow of desire. The parts that don’t fit in your mouth are skillfully tended to by your left hand, ensuring no inch of him is left untouched. His legs, betraying the intensity of the sensations, exhibit a subtle yet enticing twitch as you move rhythmically, a symphony of pleasure in every rise and fall.
Your devoted attention centers on his frenulum, a delicate dance of your tongue that elicits the softest, most melodic moan you’ve ever been privy to. The sound, a harmonious melody that resonates like a sweet lullaby, fuels your determination to continue this enraptured dance, even as your eyes threaten to mist with water. The need for air tugs at the edge of your consciousness, yet the ethereal music of his moans compels you to keep sucking.
The air is punctuated by squelching sounds, an audible testament to the fervor with which you suck him, utilizing every ounce of your skill. His hand, a gentle guide, finds solace in the maze of your hair, fingers intertwining as you diligently navigate the rhythmic ascent and descent along his pulsating dick. Sensing the subtle tension beneath your touch, you discern the hastened cadence of his breath, a telltale sign that he might be close.
You surface from the intoxicating depths of his crotch, parting from his cock to catch a breath of much-needed air. In that fleeting moment, as your eyes lock with his, you’re ensnared by the sinful intensity of his gaze. It’s a look so profoundly wicked, so enticingly feral, that you sense the very essence of your being might either melt into a puddle or evaporate into the charged air. 
Pooling a teasing amount of saliva in your mouth, you audaciously release it onto his dick, eliciting a surprised yet lustful chuckle from him. As your mouth envelops him once more, you revel in the tangible connection, savoring the unique sensation he offers. Yet, the sensation also sparks a cascade of anticipatory thoughts, your mind drifting to what it will feel like with his cock deep inside your pussy, and you feel it clench pathetically around nothing. Oh, god, you’re so wet already, it’s like a waterslide in your panties.
In rhythmic harmony with your measured breaths through flared nostrils, you descend along the full length of his dick. The audible moans that escape him blend with the sensation of his fingers tensing in your hair, creating a symphony of pleasure. Gradually, you sense him responding, pushing up into the warmth of your mouth with a deliberate slowness, each controlled thrust an exquisite dance. You relax your jaw and let him thrust into your warm walls. It’s slow and tender, like he’s very mindful not to hurt you.
In a breathless maneuver, you inhale deeply, creating a vacuum of anticipation as you envelop him in the suction of your mouth. A subtle, resonant hum reverberates against his pulsating dick, a seductive melody that prompts a tantalizing twitch within him. His fingers assertively tug at your hair, commanding a release that you give in to. With a sensation-laden pop, you surface from his cock, leaving an electrifying echo of desire lingering in the charged air.
“It’s so fucking good. But you have to stop. I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he pants, his voice a raw fusion of vulnerability and urgent need. As he leans up, the desperation in his tone intensifies, “I want to come inside you.” 
You might as well be surrendering to the abyss, for the power this man holds over you is staggering. The softness in his eyes is laced with an intoxicating lust, and the sly smirk he graces you with sends an electric current straight to your pussy. The dampness between your thighs becomes an undeniable testament to the effect he has on you, as his mere expression ignites a storm of arousal, leaving you helplessly entrapped in the spell he effortlessly casts.
With a firm yet gentle pull, he elevates you into a seated position, an unspoken desire lingering in the air. Urgently, he tugs at your shirt, mirroring the unveiling you orchestrated for him. As the fabric succumbs to gravity, revealing your form, he takes a moment to appreciate the canvas before him. His fingers trace a tantalizing path from your collarbones, across the curve of your breasts, and down to the waistband of your pants. Eyes locked with yours, he skillfully unzips your trousers, teasingly patting your ass before lifting them and guiding the denim down your legs.
The night air caresses your bare skin, its touch not a chill, but a soothing embrace. Despite the darkness that cloaks the surroundings, the lingering warmth from the day creates an intimate ambiance, allowing the freedom of being naked outside to feel not only acceptable but almost cocooned in a sensual comfort.
“Babe,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping between your open legs, a single finger delicately tracing the contours of your pussy, “You’re soaked.” 
You bite down on your lip, a flutter of lust coursing through you, as his finger skims the exterior of your panties, causing them to uncomfortably adhere to the contours of your folds. The urgency intensifies, a palpable desire radiating from your core, a silent plea echoing in your mind—you need them off, and you need it now.
“No need to silence yourself; it’s just us beneath the open sky,” he gently reminds you. With his reassuring words, you liberate your teeth from the captivity of your lips, allowing the unabashed moans of pleasure to cascade freely from your mouth, blending with the nocturnal symphony surrounding the two of you.
His fingers dance over your clit through the fabric of your panties, coaxing a guttural groan from the depths of your stomach. The subtle tremor of your thighs betrays the exquisite intensity of the sensation, a response that echoes through the sultry night air like a secret shared only between you two.
A smug smirk graces his lips, a silent promise of the pleasures yet to unfold, as his hands maneuver deftly up and behind your back, skillfully releasing the constraints of your bra. It cascades down to your lap, unveiling your liberated tits that eagerly spring forth. His hands, warm and purposeful, eagerly grope the newly revealed treasures, gently massaging your boobs.
Diving in with hunger, he presses kisses atop them, an unhurried descent leading him further down and to the left. His plush lips encircle a pert nipple, initiating a sensory dance that sends ripples of ecstasy through you.
“Fuck,” escapes your lips in a resonant moan, a symphony of pleasure commencing as he avidly sucks at one nipple while his fingers skillfully engage with the other. The sensation is beyond exquisite, a tidal wave of arousal surging through you. A fleeting realization of your panties still sticking uncomfortably to your skin. Yet, the relentless attention he bestows upon your breasts holds you captive, rendering you powerless to do anything but surrender to the intoxicating pleasure.
And take it you do, as his tongue deftly laps at your nipple, each stroke a rhythmic dance that occasionally escalates into a teasing bite, sending electric sparks that illuminate your vision with stars. Simultaneously, his fingers tug at the other nipple, orchestrating a symphony of pleasure that resonates through your body. As his exploration continues, you feel the warmth of his saliva tracing a tantalizing path down your breasts, descending over your stomach like a sensual cascade. The molten trail reaches the brink of your panties, a frustrating barrier to the carnal desire that courses through you.
With a tantalizing pop, he releases your left nipple, ascending to your mouth for a kiss that’s both needy and all-consuming, as if he can’t satiate his hunger for you. The fervor in his lips translates into an intense connection, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. 
Descending once again, his focus shifts to the other nipple, where he wraps his lips around it, initiating a dance of sucking and biting that elicits unrestrained moans from deep within you. Simultaneously, his fingers weave an intricate symphony on the previous touched nipple, propelling you into a realm of uncharted pleasure. The crescendo builds, and you moan unabashedly, teetering on the edge of an orgasm, the anticipation of release hanging in the charged air.
He persists in his relentless assault, biting and pulling with an intensity that coils a spring deep within your stomach. As the tension reaches its zenith, the spring snaps, unleashing a torrent of arousal that surges through you, adhering to your panties in a sticky testament to the powerful release. The realization hits like a thunderbolt – you just came without the direct touch on your clit. The sheer amazement washes over you, compounded by the rhythmic pants for air, transforming the aftermath into a heady cocktail of astonishment and unbridled ecstasy.
He relinquishes his hold on your breasts, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as if savoring a delectable feast. With a hungry gaze, he looks at you, and you can almost feel the intensity of his desire – as if he’s contemplating devouring you whole. 
His tongue darts out to lick his lips, a prelude to a ravenous declaration, “I want to taste your pussy too.” The words hang in the air, charged with a primal hunger that echoes the undeniable craving between you.
Your pussy continues to pulsate, a rhythmic echo of the recent orgasm, its clenching sensation persisting even in the absence of direct touch. Biting your lip, you nod your head in silent agreement. The desire intensifies, a relentless ache for the magic of his lips and the dance of his tongue on your pussy.
His fingers trace a tantalizing path to your hips, teasingly tugging at the edge of your panties. With deliberate intent, he pulls them off, a gentle yet purposeful maneuver that leaves your arousal adhering to the fabric, forming a glistening string of liquid in its wake. 
His gaze lowers between your legs, and he licks his lips with a deliberate slowness, an anticipation building with every inch he descends towards the place you ache for his touch. But just before he immerses himself in your pussy, he looks up, locking eyes with you. In that fleeting moment, he bestows upon you the softest look, so angelic and innocent, creating a deceptive contrast to the sinful delights you know he’s about to unleash upon you. 
As the first tantalizing touch of his tongue graces your folds, an instantaneous moan escapes your lips, and a kaleidoscope of stars seems to burst behind your closed eyelids. His tongue skillfully dances across your lips, a deliberate sweep that not only dissipates the lingering echoes of the previous orgasm but also revels in the unique taste of your essence. 
His tongue, a sinful indulgence, possesses a length that seems to explore the depths of your walls with deliberate precision. The unhurried entrance sends shivers through your core, each languid movement a seductive dance that unfurls the layers of pleasure. 
He fervently licks at your folds, savoring every essence, his tongue a relentless tide that laps up the intoxicating cascade of your juices. As you lean back on your arms, the anticipation of a new orgasm steadily builds within the depths of your stomach. Suddenly, a finger makes contact with your clit, and a moan of desire escapes your lips. Panting and gasping, your naked chest rises and falls above him, caught in the rhythm of a primal dance, as he devours you with the hunger of a man starved.
His skillful touch initiates a hypnotic dance, tracing sensuous circles around your clit. 
“Fuck, Jimin, I’m—” you begin to say amidst breathy pants, and suddenly, a new sensation courses down your ass. The realization hits— it’s one of his slickened fingers, probing at the hole there. 
Gradually, he eases his finger inside, and an involuntary clenching reaction coupled with erratic breaths engulf you. Thoughts scatter, the intensity of this entirely new sensation overwhelming your senses. It’s foreign, yet undeniably not unpleasant; in fact, it’s oddly good, a revelation that surprises you. As his finger delves a bit deeper, you feel the subtle stretch, accompanied by a moan that weaves into the midnight air.
“You said I should stick it up my ass. How does it feel with my finger up yours?” he taunts, his voice laced with a provocative edge that sends a shiver down your spine. As you clench around his invading finger, a surge of arousal releases a trickle of liquid from your pussy. The sensation is overwhelming, igniting a primal heat that consumes you entirely. Fuck, why is this so hot?
With deliberate tenderness, he eases his finger into your hole, maintaining a steady rhythm that tantalizingly grazes the threshold of previous depths. The sensation is nothing short of exquisite, sending ripples of pleasure cascading through every fiber of your being. But as quickly as the euphoria engulfs you, he withdraws his finger, leaving you to groan in a poignant emptiness that echoes through the night air. 
He lifts his head, locking eyes with you, his gaze penetrating the depths of your blown-out eyes. “You liked that, huh?” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that reverberates with a potent mixture of satisfaction and desire. The intensity of his stare ignites a fire within you, each word laden with the weight of pleasure and unspoken longing.
You bite your lips, a fleeting moment of hesitation passing through your mind as you contemplate the truth. But the honesty between you is palpable, a silent understanding that binds you together in this intimate moment. “I did,” you confess, your voice carrying the weight of undeniable desire, a raw admission that lays bare the depths of your longing.
“That’s good to know,” he chuckles, the sound reverberating through the night like a whispered promise. With a hunger that borders on desperation, he kisses you again, his lips consuming yours in a full embrace that tastes of your essence. It’s a kiss that’s wet and sloppy, needy and unapologetic, yet every sensation only serves to deepen the flames between you. And as you savor the taste of his lips against yours, you’re reminded of the intoxicating allure that drew you to him in the first place, igniting a flame that burns brighter with each passing moment.
He returns to your pussy with a hunger that borders on obsession, his lips eagerly tasting every inch of you while his skilled fingers tease your clit with a maddening precision. His tongue, devilishly good, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, compelling you to arch your back and press your core deeper into his face. The sight of his glistening cheeks, adorned with your essence, ignites a primal urge within you, a visceral desire to consume and be consumed in return. With his head between your legs, he becomes a vision of untamed passion, his devotion to your pleasure evident in every caress and every lingering kiss.
With the skill of a master, he works his fingers over your clit in a mesmerizing dance, tracing circles that send sparks of ecstasy coursing through your veins. His touch is both gentle and assertive, at times pulling on your sensitive nub, eliciting a chorus of moans that echo in the heated air around you. Each movement sets your body ablaze with a searing intensity, every sensation heightening your arousal until you feel like you’re consumed by a blazing inferno of desire.
As he continues his relentless assault on your senses, you feel the coil of desire winding tighter and tighter, on the verge of unraveling at any moment. The dual sensation of his sucking at your clit while his finger expertly rubs it pushes you over the edge, and with a primal cry, the coil inside you finally snaps. 
A powerful wave of liquid cascades over his face, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you. Gasping for air, your vision momentarily blurs, spots dancing before your eyes as the intensity of the moment washes over you. You feel the liquid trickling down your folds, leaving a trail of evidence on the grass or flowers beneath you.
As Jimin continues to lick and coax you through the euphoric waves of your orgasm, you ride out the intense sensations until you gently tug on his blonde hair, a silent signal that it’s becoming too much to bear. Sensing your need, he obediently returns, his lips meeting yours in a modest kiss that speaks volumes of his reverence for you. 
“You’re so hot, you know that?” he murmurs against your lips, his words laced with genuine admiration and a hint of awe, leaving you with a lingering warmth.
For some inexplicable reason, a blush graces your cheeks, a subtle yet undeniable testament to the torrent of emotions swirling within you. It’s a curious juxtaposition, considering the uninhibited pleasures you’ve shared thus far. Yet, amidst the intoxicating haze of desire, there’s a deeper sensation stirring within you—a profound sense of being utterly and unequivocally full, not just of passion, but of an overwhelming and boundless love.
“Can I make love to you?” he asks, his voice a tender whisper that reverberates through the charged air between you. As his eyes search yours, a silent plea etched into their depths, his breath washes over your face, carrying with it the intoxicating scent of him—sweet and musky, a heady blend that envelops you in a cocoon of desire and longing.
“God, yes!” you moan fervently, your voice a breathless plea that echoes in the heated space between you. With an instinctual urgency, you open your legs wider, a silent invitation that beckons him closer, drawing him into the intimate embrace of your pussy with an irresistible pull.
He lays you down gently on a fragrant bed of bluebonnets, their sweet, flowery scent wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, infusing the night air with a delicate fragrance that speaks of love and serenity. As you pant softly, your eyes drink in the sight of Jimin poised above you, a vision of strength and vulnerability intertwined. His scars, a testament to his journey, only add to his allure, while his tender gaze holds you in a spellbinding trance. With deliberate movements, he hovers closer, his hand stroking his dick.
“Do you happen to have a condom?” He asks, a note of realization creeping into his voice as he acknowledges the crucial detail he nearly overlooked. 
You shake your head, a sense of disappointment washing over you like a wave crashing against the shore. Despite the nagging concern for safety, your desire burns fiercely, eclipsing rational thought with an unyielding craving for closeness. 
“No, I don’t. I’m on the pill and I’m clean, are you?” You inquire, your voice laced with a mixture of longing and urgency, a silent plea for reassurance amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.
He chuckles softly, the sound a mixture of amusement and apprehension. “Yeah, I usually always wear protection too, but I really didn’t plan on this happening tonight,” he admits, his words tinged with a hint of uncertainty. “You’re okay without it?” He asks, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt, his concern for your well-being evident in the furrow of his brow.
“I’m good, just fuck me, Jimin,” you pant, your voice trembling with a raw mixture of desire and urgency. With a fervent desperation, you spread your legs even wider, your glistening pussy shimmering in the moonlight, a beacon of temptation that beckons him closer. The sight leaves him licking his lips in unadulterated lust, his gaze fixated on you with a hunger that mirrors your own.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he strokes his dick once more, a silent promise of the pleasure to come. Aligning himself with your eager entrance, he begins to push his cock into your welcoming embrace, each inch a tantalizing reminder of the intimacy you’re about to share.
As he enters you, a surge of sensation washes over you, and you’re struck by the realization that he’s thicker than you anticipated. A fleeting moment of panic flits through your mind as you remember that he didn’t stretch you beforehand, but to your surprise, the slickness of your arousal makes the slide effortless. There’s no discomfort, only a delicious feeling of fullness that leaves you breathless with pleasure.
He reaches the deepest recesses of your being, his balls grazing your folds, and a primal moan escapes your lips as he ignites a firestorm of sensation within you. 
Every inch of him stretches you to your limits, leaving you feeling gloriously full and alive with desire. With each withdrawal, a shiver races down your spine, only to be replaced by an electrifying jolt of pleasure as he thrusts back in. 
The intensity of it all is overwhelming, sending you spiraling into a frenzy of ecstasy that surpasses even your most vivid fantasies. It’s everything you’ve ever imagined, and yet, so much more—so much better than your wildest wettest dreams.
You revel in the sensation of his dick twitching inside your pussy, a primal confirmation of his arousal that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. With each powerful thrust, the simplicity of the missionary position becomes a conduit for profound intimacy, every movement drawing you closer together in a passionate dance of desire. You’re soaking wet, to be honest, you’re dripping. His cock feels like a revelation, igniting flames of ecstasy that consume you wholly, leaving you utterly lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your passion.
His hands, initially anchored on either side of your hips, move across your trembling form. Each caress leaves a trail of tingling sensations in its wake, electrifying your senses with a fervent urgency. As his fingers glide over your curves, they pause upon the soft swell of your breasts, lingering there with an almost reverent touch. With a gentle tug on your nipple, he elicits a fervent moan of pure pleasure from your lips, each sensation unraveling you further in the throes of unabashed ecstasy.
As he continues to thrust deeply into you, his fingers teasing your sensitive nipple, you find yourself drawn to the raw intensity etched across his features. His expression, a captivating blend of desire and longing, captivates your gaze, his furrowed brow a testament to the depth of his passion. His eyes, wide and dilated with arousal, hold you in their hypnotic gaze, each glance igniting flames of longing within your core. His plush, red lips beckon to you with an irresistible allure, stirring an overwhelming urge to taste him once more, to lose yourself in him.
“Kiss,” you pant, your voice a desperate plea that hangs heavy in the air, and he chuckles softly at your fervent request. Without hesitation, he leans down to meet your lips, his kiss a fiery collision of passion and need, even as he continues to drive his dick into your heated depths with unwavering intensity. 
Each brush of his lips against yours sends shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body.
“Fuck, you’re amazing babe,” he groans, his voice laced with a mixture of awe and desire, as he drives himself into you with a fervent urgency tempered by tender affection. Each powerful thrust is a testament to his adoration, his movements a symphony of passion and intimacy that leave you breathless with longing.
“Jimin, I—” you gasp, the words caught in your throat as he delves deeper into your depths, a surge of pleasure coursing through you as he gathers your legs and presses them against his shoulders, driving himself even further into your pussy.
Your gasping, overwhelmed by the depth of sensation as he plunges into you, exploring places you never knew existed, igniting sparks of pleasure that ripple through every fiber of your being. It’s as if he’s reaching parts of you that have long remained dormant, his every movement sending shockwaves of ecstasy cascading through your body, leaving you teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion.
When he delivers a particularly powerful thrust, you surrender to the overwhelming wave of emotions coursing through you, your heart soaring as you release the words that have been simmering within, “I love you.”
With a husky grunt, he responds, his voice a low rumble filled with an undeniable tenderness, “I know, babe.”
Gazing at him through a veil of desire, your breath ragged with anticipation, you press him for clarity, your voice trembling with curiosity, “What do you mean, you know?”
A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he withdraws completely, leaving you with a sense of emptiness that mirrors the sudden absence of his presence within you. “You told me at the gala,” he explains, his voice carrying a hint of amusement and fond remembrance, casting a glow of warmth over the memory.
Your expression morphs into a puzzled question mark once more, prompting another bout of laughter from him as he teasingly teases at your entrance once more.
“When you told me you hated me, you also said you love me,” he reveals, his voice laced with a mixture of humor and desire, before driving his dick back into you with an intensity that leaves you gasping, your cries of pleasure echoing in the night, mingling with the sounds of nature around you. You’re almost afraid you might startle the horses with all your noises.
“Fuck, I did?” you gasp incredulously, your voice tinged with disbelief and arousal, feeling the powerful grip of your pussy tightening around his cock, as if it’s instinctively pulling him deeper, craving the connection with an intensity that matches your own desire.
“Yeah. It was actually really hot. Do you know how sexy you are when you’re mad?” He leans down, gently pressing your thighs against your stomach, drawing you into an intimate embrace as he lowers his lips to your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, “I love you too.”
You’re consumed by a surge of sensation, questioning whether he’s grown larger or you’ve become tighter, the intense throbbing and twitching of his dick inside you driving you to the brink of madness. Every nerve in your body is alight, ablaze with desire, leaving you gasping for breath as if on the verge of spontaneous combustion.
As he ascends, his hand resumes its gentle ministrations on your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. The intensity is overwhelming, pushing you to the brink of release once more. Every fiber of your being is electrified, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. You feel like you could come at any moment now.
Despite the exhaustion that blankets your body with the way that he fucks you, you’re enveloped in a whirlwind of love and desire that leaves you feeling utterly spent yet infinitely fulfilled.
“Ahhh, fuck!” You cry out, the sensation of him delving so deep sends shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through every nerve ending, igniting a kaleidoscope of sensations that leave you seeing stars and unraveling at the seams.
“That’s it, babe. You’re taking me so well,” he pants, his voice thick with desire and need, echoing the frantic rhythm of your own breathless gasps. “I’m almost there. Are you close?”
“Yes,” you moan, elongating the word as if savoring its taste, your voice a symphony of pleasure and desire. Every nerve in your body ignites with a fiery intensity, fueled by the intoxicating sensations Jimin evokes. His touch, his presence, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, a blissful surge that consumes your very being.
As Jimin’s pace intensifies on your clit, perfectly synchronized with the depth of his thrusts, you surrender to the torrent of sensations cascading through your body. 
Every touch, every movement, sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, a culmination of the emotions that have been simmering beneath the surface for months. With each exquisite moment, you release the pent-up tension, allowing yourself to be consumed by the raw, unbridled passion between you and Jimin— you simply let go.
“Jimin!” The cry tears from your lips like a primal invocation as you spiral into your third orgasm, a deluge of ecstasy flooding around his throbbing cock. 
You’re left panting, a disheveled portrait of desire, as your core tightens around him, pulsing with each wave of release, coating his dick in a glistening sheen of your arousal.
“Fuck!” His voice is a raw mix of frustration and longing, his body trembling as your insatiable pussy seems to draw him deeper into your depths, culminating in a primal moan of your name as he spills his essence inside you.
You’re both left breathless, your bodies suffused with a warmth that courses through every inch of your skin, igniting a tingling sensation that dances along your nerves. It’s not just the aftermath of passion; it’s a shared ecstasy that leaves you both on the brink of shivering, though not from the chill of the night air.
As you ride out the waves of your climax, he continues to thrust inside you, his warmth flooding your depths, and you revel in the raw intimacy of it all. Even as his dick gradually softens, he remains nestled within you, both of you panting for air.
Droplets of sweat trickle down from his forehead, teasing your breasts with their warm caress. Despite the exhaustion etched on his face, he still radiates a captivating allure that leaves you breathless.
You feel the warmth of his semen trickling out of your pussy, tracing a tantalizing path down to your ass, leaving you feeling both sticky and sweaty.
You gently lower your legs from his shoulders, allowing them to find solid ground beside him. Gasping for air, a wide grin spreads across your face, punctuated by playful giggles. Jimin leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss that elicits a soft moan from you. Breaking away, he grins, revealing his endearingly crooked teeth—a sight that never fails to warm your heart. Damn, you love this man.
You lose track of time with him nestled on top of you, his warmth enveloping you as he remains inside your pussy. The gentle thud of his beating heart against your chest creates a soothing rhythm, one that seems to sync perfectly with your own. 
In that moment, entwined together, it feels like your souls are dancing to the same beautiful melody.
As he withdraws from you, he gracefully shifts onto his side, beckoning you to join him on his sleeping mat. You comply eagerly, settling yourself beside him, relishing the warmth of his body against yours. With a tender gesture, he draws both blankets over your entwined forms, cocooning you both in a comforting embrace against the night’s chill.
Entwined in each other’s arms, you drift into slumber, lulled by the rhythmic cadence of his heartbeat, a comforting lullaby in the stillness of the night. With your head nestled against his chest, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing beneath you, you find solace in the intimacy of the moment. Your fingertips trace delicate patterns on his pectorals. As you lie there, embraced by the tender embrace of nature, the symphony of the wilderness envelops you, a melodic harmony of chirping crickets and dancing fireflies. Above, the celestial canopy twinkles with a myriad of stars, casting a celestial glow upon your sanctuary, a sanctuary where time stands still and love knows no bounds.
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As the first light of dawn paints patterns of gold through the foliage, coaxing you from slumber, you awaken beside Jimin, cocooned in the warmth of his presence. Stretching languidly, you feel the gentle weight of his body beside you, a comforting anchor in the hazy morning. Nestling closer to him, you bury your face into the curve of his chest, savoring the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. With a contented sigh, you greet the new day softly, your voice a whispered melody against the tranquil stillness, “Morning.”
He stirs beneath you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, a sound that resonates deep within your core. His gentle touch traces the curve of your spine, sending shivers cascading down your skin, igniting a familiar heat within you. The memory of last night dances at the edges of your consciousness, teasing and tantalizing, as his fingers linger on the curve of your ass, coaxing your body to life with every caress.
“Good morning, did you sleep well?” His voice, warm and inviting, rouses you from the haze of sleep, like the first light of dawn piercing through the darkness. You blink away the remnants of dreams, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. His laughter, a melody of morning, dances in the air, wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. As he opens his eyes, you find yourself captured by the depth of his gaze, a silent exchange of morning greetings between two souls entwined in the quiet serenity of dawn.
“Amazing,” you exhale the word against his chest, the warmth of your breath mingling with the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Soft kisses pepper his skin, each one a testament to the tenderness between you, yet there’s a playful edge as your teeth graze his flesh, drawing forth a soft chuckle from him, like music to your ears, a sweet symphony of affection.
He moves with a fluid grace, rolling you over and settling above you as the weight of his presence envelops you once more. His lips meet yours in a gentle caress, carrying the essence of dawn itself, a blend of morning flowers and the earthy musk of the forest. You inhale deeply, savoring his scent as it ignites a primal longing within you, tightening your core with desire. With a soft moan, you surrender to his kiss, your hands pulling him closer, as if trying to meld your beings together in a timeless embrace, unable to quench the thirst for his lips.
You sense the subtle twitch of his cock against your crotch. The warmth of his skin against yours reignites the embers of desire, and you become acutely aware of your nakedness, a lingering sensation from your passionate sex last night, that you still feel wet from. The memory of his touch lingers, and your body responds instinctively, still tingling with the echoes of pleasure. As your mind drifts, envisioning how easy it would be for him to slip right into your walls again, a shiver courses through you, your breath catching at the mere thought, while your core instinctively clenches, yearning for his familiar touch.
“Are you okay, babe?” Concern colors Jimin’s voice as he notices the faint furrow of frustration on your brow. 
You offer him a soft smile, your fingertips tracing the contours of his cheeks with affectionate tenderness. “I’m absolutely wonderful, Jimin,” you confess, your voice laced with longing and a hint of playful desire. “I just miss you and I want you inside of me again already.”
“Oh, yeah?” His teasing tone sends a shiver down your spine as he playfully grinds his cock against your drenched pussy. You gasp at the sensation, overwhelmed by the flood of arousal coursing through your veins. How could you still be so wet, so ready for him, even after everything? 
It’s like your body has a mind of its own, craving his touch with an insatiable hunger.
His dick presses against you, throbbing with anticipation, and as he eases his fully erect cock between your slick folds, a rush of pleasure surges through you, igniting every nerve ending. Your moans escape in soft gasps, lost in the bliss of his touch, as you feel the heat of his dick melding perfectly with your own.
Each movement of his cock inside you feels like a divine symphony, a perfect rhythm that resonates through your entire being. With each deep thrust, he fills you so completely, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. Your breasts sway in tandem with his movements, a visual testament to the intense pleasure he’s giving you, each pull and thrust sending you spiraling into euphoria.
As your hands find their way to his back, you grip onto him with a fervor you didn’t know you possessed, the intensity of pleasure coursing through you like electricity. Then, as you tilt your head to the side, your eyes catch a glimpse of it— Mikrokosmos.
“Jimin-ah!” You pant urgently, your voice breaking the rhythm of your thrusts. When he catches sight of your startled expression, he halts his movements, his gaze instantly flooded with concern.
“What’s wrong, babe?” His voice carries genuine concern, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.
“It’s Mikrokosmos!” You exclaim, a mixture of awe and urgency in your voice as you tear your gaze away from Jimin to focus on the majestic sight. Sensing the shift in your demeanor, Jimin withdraws from your folds and joins you, his eyes following your gaze to where your black horse grazes lazily nearby.
You rise to your feet, embarking on a quest for your scattered garments, your fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties, eliciting a frustrated groan. Resolving to not put them on, you swiftly opt for your pants, slipping into them with haste. With determination, you locate your bra and shirt, swiftly adorning yourself in a flurry of movements. Meanwhile, Jimin is engaged in a similar pursuit, his efforts mirroring yours as he hastily dons his own attire. 
Amidst the shared chaos of dressing, your laughter fills the air, a delightful symphony blending with the rustle of fabric and the gentle morning breeze.
As you don your attire with practiced efficiency, you slide your boots on, the leather molding comfortably around your feet. With deliberate steps, you approach Mikrokosmos, the ground yielding softly beneath your weight. Jimin shadows your movements, his presence a reassuring anchor amidst the morning serenity. Each stride brings you closer to the majestic creature, your heart echoing the rhythm of hoofbeats as you draw near.
“Come here, girl,” you murmur, your hand extended like an open invitation. Mikrokosmos raises her head, her gaze fixated on you, a mysterious glint dancing in her eyes, elusive yet captivating. 
With measured steps, she saunters toward you, a graceful dance of trust unfolding with each stride. As her velvety muzzle meets your outstretched hand, a surge of warmth envelops you, a sense of belonging washing over your soul. With a gentle whinny, she nuzzles against your palm, a silent affirmation of the bond between kindred spirits. “Good girl,” you whisper, your voice a tender melody amidst the tranquil embrace of nature.
You pivot slowly, no halter, no rope, no nothing, your gaze fixed ahead with quiet determination, “Let’s go home.”
Mikrokosmos follows your lead with unwavering trust, her hoofbeats falling into rhythm with your purposeful strides. Jimin’s eyes reflect admiration as he watches your natural affinity with the majestic creature. Returning to the other horses, you secure a rope around Mikrokosmos’s head, just in case she should get any ideas of leaving again, before tending to your belongings with practiced efficiency.
You saddle up Marshmallow, feeling the familiar comfort of the leather beneath your hands. Leading Mikrokosmos by the rope, you guide her onto the path, her presence beside you a reassuring anchor amidst the vast expanse of wilderness. 
The serendipitous encounter with Mikrokosmos fills you with an indescribable joy, as if destiny itself had intervened to bring you together. With each step, your heart swells with gratitude and happiness, a feeling that courses through your veins like a warm embrace.
As the trail meanders homeward, you turn to Jimin, a soft smile gracing your lips. “Thank you, Jimin,” you whisper, the words carried away on the gentle breeze, a heartfelt acknowledgment of his unwavering support. 
His warm smile washes over you, and you feel a rush of gratitude for his understanding. “No problem at all. I’m just glad to be here and help,” he murmurs, his eyes reflecting the same tenderness that fills your heart. Drawing closer, you intertwine your fingers with his, the simple act weaving a thread of intimacy between you. In that moment, riding side by side, the world fades away, leaving only the comforting embrace of each other’s presence.
His question catches you off guard, but the warmth in his voice draws you in. “Do you remember your fifth birthday?” he asks, a playful glint in his eyes, as if unraveling a cherished memory. His lips, so inviting and tender, curve into a smile, inviting you to journey back to that moment in time with him.
You chuckle softly, because you do remember, the memory flooding back like a cherished melody. You recall the innocence of that day, the laughter shared between you and Jimin as you played hide and seek, weaving tales of fantastical adventures. In that moment, surrounded by the whispers of childhood dreams, you realize the depth of your love with Jimin, sensing that perhaps there’s more to your bond than just friendship. It’s a realization that tugs at the strings of your heart, igniting a spark of hope for something more.
“Do you remember when you told me that guys couldn’t be friends with girls, that you’d get boy-lice or something?” he grins, his voice laced with nostalgia as he squeezes your hand gently. You roll your eyes playfully, the memory sparking a smile on your lips, because yes, you remember that too.
“I know I was insufferable back then,” you confess, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you wave off the memory.
“You weren’t. But you were oblivious to the fact that I had feelings for you back then, weren’t you?” He chuckles again, his laughter like a sweet melody that resonates deep within you, leaving you longing for more.
“I honestly didn’t. I just thought you were being a typical boy. But hey, I was five—how was I supposed to grasp the concept of love at that age?” You laugh lightly, a soft smile playing on your lips as you reminisce about the innocence of childhood.
He chuckles softly, his gaze holding a hint of curiosity, “It doesn’t matter now. But I was wondering…”
You find yourself lost in his hazel brown eyes, their warmth enveloping you, as you’re drawn to his captivating smile. With a soft breath, you respond, “Yes?”
With a tender gaze, he lays his heart bare before you, his words echoing with sincerity and vulnerability. “If you want to be my girlfriend. I don’t want to waste anymore time. I love you and I want us to be together,” he asks, his voice tapering off, a hint of uncertainty creeping in. Yet, you offer him solace, intertwining your fingers with his, leaning into his side, and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, affirming your affection without words.
“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Jimin.”
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Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜
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theharrowing · 8 months
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White Lies
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Yoongi is everything you could ask for. He is attractive, confident, and smart. And his partner Taehyung is as possessive as he is beautiful. Too bad a relationship would be a major conflict of interest.
You need to have them, at all costs.
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🤍 Yoongi x Female Reader x Taehyung
🤍 word count: work in progress (currently 10.5k words) + images of social media posts & text conversations
🤍 college au, partial social media au with a lot of written story, strangers to lovers & established relationship, yandere, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, angst, slash, poly, minor character injury & death, graphic violence, nsfw, 21+.
🤍 warnings: 🕊 dead dove 🕊. toxic relationships (dishonesty, jealousy, yandere behavior); ACAB includes our MC, sorry you found out this way; corrupt policing. more specific warnings coming soon, pending the release of each chapter.
🤍 part 2 of the Rose-Tinted Obsessions series
🤍 this is a sequel to Boy Blue! i highly recommend that you start at the beginning to fully understand the the dynamic & history between Yoongi & Taehyung. there will be a lot of references to Boy Blue; this fic will spoil the shit out of it. this includes some major character deaths!!! this MC/reader character is not the same MC/reader character from Boy Blue.
🤍 note: all detective work and cop jargon in this fic is either made up on the spot or comes from years of watching/listening to true crime media. i have no credentials in this field and i do not claim to know what i am talking about. for the sake of simplicity & also my sanity, all dialogue that is written and spoken is going to be in English. characters are from Korea and living/working in the US, and we can fill in the gaps between what language they are speaking in which context. also, although i try to keep the mc's physical description vague, i will refer to her as having curves and having hair that can be gripped onto. length and texture will be left vague. places mentioned are completely made up. i may be using actual city and neighborhood names to make it feel real, but every school, bar, etc. is fake and any similarities they have to real places is coincidence.
🤍 also note: this fic is going to be extremely contrived and dramatic, just like its predecessor was. we are not here for award winning story telling; think of it like a trashy daytime soap opera and a gore porn horror film had a baby. obviously, i do not condone the behaviors in this story; it is a work of fiction.
🤍 written parts beta read by @neoneunnajimin
🤍 check out the playlist!
🤍 posted nov. 2023 - present | read on ao3
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INDEX
0: Introductions | 0 words + screencaps
1: Do not, under any circumstances, become emotionally attached to either of these men | 2.9k words + screencaps
— TaeGi POV 1: What the fuck is this??? | 0 words + screencaps
2: Sleep sweet, pretty | 7.4k words + screencaps
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tag list: @aidam9911 @andrea613 @bangtan-tee-86 @ffion451 @fluffybuns69 @here4kpopfics @icedtaericano @iloverubberduckiez-blog @kiki-zb @lovemeforeternity @mgthecat @moonleeai @mother2monsters @neoneunnajimin @oceansmerchild @unsureofwhathappens 🤍 by asking to join this tag list, you are agreeing that you are at least 18 or older and that you are comfortable engaging in dead dove content. please tell me at any time if you would like to be removed and i will be happy to pull you off.
White Lies copyright 2021-2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved. No translations or reposts are allowed!
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snezario · 3 months
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Technical Difficulties; Vo//x
A/N: The Ha/zb/in Hot/el hyperfixation continues... For the longest time, I struggled with how snz with a television screen for a head would even work but @stormyweaver solved that instantly ty friend (I don't even talk abt it in this fic lol)... Anyways I'm throwing this out into the world and hibernating for the next year!! Here's some very self-indulgent tv demon Suffering
You’ll have to try harder than that next time, old pal.
Alastor’s last words to him play again in his mind. The pompous freak. Which brings Vox to his current situation, standing in front of the stained glass doors of the Hazbin Hotel. He straightens his bowtie and raps on the door three times. Charlie opens the door just as his hand lifts from the third knock. Her shock at seeing one of the Vees at her doorstep is quite apparent. Vox smiles widely and extends his hand.
“Your majesty, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Vox, head of VoxTe-”
“YOU! You gotta lotta fucking nerve coming here!” Before Vox can finish, Angel Dust appears by Charlie’s side stabbing an accusatory finger towards him. Ah yes, Val’s favorite little whore. Almost immediately after, Vaggie is also standing before him, scowling. Vox maintains his sharp grin despite the intrusion and scoots away from Angel’s finger.
“I sincerely apologize for our previous interaction, Princess. Val, Velvette, and I have given it some thought and we were hoping to develop a mutually beneficial relationship. You see, the whole reason we even sent Pentious is because of your current sponsor-”
“Alastor?” Charlie interrupts, tilting her head.
Just the mention of his name is enough to send a volatile surge of electricity through his circuitry. Vox quickly unfurls the fist he unconsciously made and smiles.
“Yes, we seem to have got off on the wrong foot so to speak. Alastor (Vox says his name with such venom that Charlie shrinks back slightly), and I haven’t always quite seen eye-to-eye, but that’s no reason for the two of us to have any quarrel. In fact, we have a few ideas that we’d like to run by you and modernize what you’ve got here.”
Little Miss Bleeding Heart’s eyes light up, her positivity and compassion almost makes him fucking vomit, were he capable of such human vulnerabilities.
“Ohmygod, we would LOVE to have more Overlords on board with the Hazbin Hotel. Come in, come in! Let me show you around,” She beckons him in while Vaggie continues to glare at him suspiciously as he steps over the threshold, pointing her spear at him.
“One wrong move and I’m shoving this spear through your chest,” she threatens.
This is actually the first time he’s stepped foot in the building. It’s not nearly as hi-tech as his VoxTek building, probably that radio fucker’s influence. Husk flips him off from the bar in the back. A small black cat weaves between his legs, purring before settling in on a nearby couch.
Before he can comment on anything, an unmistakable shadow glides along the floor before his rival manifests in front of him. Vox’s blood pressure spikes as he stands face to face with Alastor. The radio demon is wearing his almost patented grin (the smiling freak), seemingly unperturbed by the Vox’s presence at the hotel.
“Ah, if it isn’t my so-called ‘rival.’ Trying your hand at redemption?” Alastor smirks, twirling his staff nonchalantly. Vox’s hypnotic eye swirls with momentary fury. He takes a deep breath and instead of rising to the barb, Vox flashes his own demonic fangs.
Charlie begins the tour in the foyer, showing him every minute detail. Of course, he’s not really listening at all. His attention is momentarily diverted when he feels an unusual tingling in the back of his screen. It passes just as quickly as it appeared. Not giving Vox much time to contemplate it, Charlie drags him off to another room in the hotel.
As they walk around, Princess Morning Star continues chattering excitedly about having sappy conversations in the parlor. Despite Alastor’s insistence that he has better things to do than babysit his media rival, Vox can feel him following close behind them. Not only that, but it’s becoming more clear to him that something is wrong. The fuzzy feeling is starting to become more than just a minor inconvenience. He tries to ignore the rising wave of panic in his chest. He just updated his software not too long ago.
“Soooo what did you think?” Charlie’s looking at him with puppy-dog eyes. He looks around and realizes that they’re back in the lobby. Apparently they made an entire loop of the hotel and now Charlie is expectantly awaiting a response. He opens his mouth to speak but it’s at this moment that the fuzzy feeling becomes outright unbearable. And, unfortunately for him no amount of ignoring it seems to do the trick. The buzzing sensation crests and the veneer of self-control crumbles. His screen glitches out as his body snaps forward as he is overcome by the feeling.
hh’ZZZSHH’uhh!
The hotel lights dim during Vox’s expulsion, causing the residents to glance around in confusion. As the lights flicker back on, Vox realizes that the hotel has fallen completely silent. He finds that he’s also teleported 5 feet from where he was previously standing. Everyone is staring at him, their facial expressions a mix of annoyance, bewilderment, and amusement (from Alastor, the bastard). Angel is the first to speak.
“What the fuck just happened?”
Vox mentally repeats the same question to himself. What the fuck did just happen? Did he just… sneeze? He didn’t even think it was possible, at least not in his new form.
“Seems like our little video friend is experiencing some *technical* difficulties.” Alastor chimes in, the pleasure he seems to have derived from Vox’s predicament is quite apparent. Smug piece of shit. What he wouldn’t give to punch him in his perfect teeth.
His resolve wavers as he senses another prickle at the back of his head. Sparks generate along his frame as Vox tries to fight another surge of the unwanted feeling… to no avail. Vox’s screen dims as he involuntarily sucks in a sharp breath.
hh’zZZSHh! ihh..ihh’ZZSSHhoo!
The outburst causes another surge of electricity in the hotel, as well as leading a couple of the overhead light bulbs to explode. By the time he straightens up Niffty has already sprung into action, sweeping up the shards of glass that now litter the hotel floor.
“WHATTHEFUCK,” he spits out, unable to maintain his composure despite the fact that he had an audience.
“Hmm, persistent,” Alastor muses, thoughtful tapping his slender fingers on the top of his staff. While everyone else is still processing the most recent events, Alastor surveys the damage to the hotel. As scans the lobby, his gaze falls on KeeKee. Realization dawns on him. Ohoho, this could be quite entertaining, best he keep this bit of information to himself for now.
“I– ihh… I have to go,” Vox manages to say through clenched teeth. The less he said the better his chances were if he were going to keep the feeling at bay. He prepares to teleport out, but not before the sneeze he was so desperately trying to hold back, slips out.
ih’ITZZSSHhh! Godfuckingdamnit. To save himself what little dignity Vox has left, not that there’s much remaining at this point, he departs in a flash of light.
“Talk lat-” Charlie trails off as she realizes that Vox has already electorported out of the hotel.
“Well that was quite interesting,” Alastor spins his staff around before magick-ing it out of existence. He seems to have something on the tip of his tongue, but ultimately decides to keep the thought to himself, humming nonchalantly as he walks away.
Sitting on his couch, Vox groans and flops back. Well not only did that fail miserably, Vox embarrassed himself in front of the entire Hazbin Hotel family. He sinks deeper into the couch cushions as the entire fiasco plays in his head. His rumination is interrupted by a straggling tickle.
huh’zZZCCHh!
Dragging a hand down his screen, he sniffles (really?! this just got better and better) and sighs. This was quite an unpleasant experience, one he would not like to deal with again anytime soon. Somehow he felt this was Alastor’s doing, no he knew the radio demon fuck definitely had something to do with it.
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mantisgodsart · 3 months
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THE WORLD'S MOST DATING POLL
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As Kabbu's birthday rolls around, the internet turns pink, and people talk about "love" and "romance" and other things like that. Very ironic, considering the man is aroace, but in accordance with the season, we have assembled some very viable bachelors to... date, probably. Dating profiles below the cut, but you can choose from cliff notes if you want, we guess, this is just so the post isn't ABSURDLY long.
Bau (short for Bauplan) - They/any - Dune Cricket - 18-21 (varies based on fic, generally tied to Vi's age) - Bi/pan
When it comes to a date, you can't do better than Bau! Though dune crickets are normally more than a bit antisocial (and cannibalistic), Bau is an exception! Terminally friendly, great at parties, and unendingly loyal - they'll do anything for a friend, and if you can get friendly with them, they'll be more than happy to date if you ever pop the question! You'll have to compete with other friends, of course - not to mention other partners, and their criminal entanglements as a Bandit that often operates as an intimidation detail but really, is it that much of a downside?
Jask - He/they - Ashy gray lady beetle - Late 20s - Gray-ace
If you want level-headed, Jask is your bug! A bandit medic with years of expence under his belt, Jask is well experienced with taking care even the most dangerous of bugs - his boss, for example. Sure, he's a bit busy with patients - but there's a tender heart hiding under that tough exterior. You just have to stick around for... what, five months? Ten?
...more?
...you'll figure it out, we're sure.
Zoza - Whatever the bandits come up with that isn't immediately veto'd (usually she/her) - Damselfly - 70+ - None of your business
The Bandits' second-in-command, a feisty old damselfly with more than a few tricks up her sleeve. She's a bit old to be dating around like you young'uns, but this old woman can still be a loving partner - prove you can contribute to the Bandits, prove that you're strong enough to not die horribly on your first outing, and manage to build enough of a rapport with her despite her many, many vital duties, and you might have a chance... if you're into grandmothers, of course.
(...is GILF a thing? GMILF? Hold on, we need to do some research...)
Marigold - She/her - Death's Head Hawk Moth - 30s - Married to her job
The most eligable bachelor on this list by far, judging by how people have reacted to her! Marigold is a charmsmith with a good, stable job, a good, stable personality, and only a little bit of active torture going on in her basement! We, uhh... aren't entirely sure how you're planning on getting her out of her lab and into the dating scene, seeing as she hasn't really been anywhere near the zone of "dating" since she was... what, sixteen? But we're sure you can figure it out.
Agapanthus - Variable (genderfluid) - Orchid mantis - Older than you'd think - Pan
A waiter(and sometimes waitress) at Club Maenad, this mantis knows exactly how to show you a good time. Charming and attractive, even if they've been banned from bartending for the forseeable future, and flexible for nearly anything you might need in a partner, if you slip in the right compliments between rounds, you might very well have a shot! Just... keep in mind the waiver you signed at the door, and please remember that this is a bar for parasitoids and bugs of species prone to eating their mates.
ZM-32 - It/they - Io moth/cordyceps - 100+ - Fungus
Bugaria's most eligable bachelor! Everyone wants a piece of this, and for good reason! It'll be fierce competition, but maybe, just maybe, if you can evade the deadly lasers and circumvent the persistent hatred for the living that tormented it and its colony for years on end... you could win its heart.
Chips - He/they - Two-striped grasshopper - ??? - Has Better Things To Worry About
Green is in this year - and so are grasshoppers. This one is dateable! Probably. Just be sure to cosy up with him before his gambling debts do, or he might get eaten by a large praying mantis before you get the chance.
ZB-162 - It/its - Cordyceps symbiote - 100+ - Switchboard Operator
...are you into responsible bugs? Are you into fungi? Do you enjoy dating people who are preoccupied with regulating and operating the communication network used by an entire cordyceps colony? Well, ZB-162 might be the bug for you? Though, uhh, often occupied with its job, ZB-162 is a fine specimen of the cordyceps species, and certainly very attractive if you... if you...
...okay, we won't lie to you, this one's a bit of a fixer-upper. Not sure how you're going to drag them away from the communication channels long enough for
The Wraith - ??? - ???????????? - Reported active since Elizant 1's reign - ???????????
Mysterious figure from the Ant Kingdom's criminal underbelly. Married, but you can still shoot your shot, we guess...???
Marble - she/they - Wasp - late 20s - It's In There
…didn't this one get blown up? We're pretty sure this one got blown up. If you pick this one, you have to take mandatory bomb safety courses, we think.
Unit of Radioactive Decay - They/it - Iterator - First activated in late Gen 1 era - Aroace
This is... a building, but you can still give it a try, we guess? Honestly, we have no clue how you found this one. We're pretty sure it's not even a bug.
L2tM & Enot - Any u can call us anything u want bb <3 - Former iterator & karmic wyrm slugcats - Gen 1 & ageless wouldnt u like to know - yes
Why are you two here?! Get out of our fucking poll!!!
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evilbiomes · 6 months
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new 2hnb guy!!! one of three main antagonists the 2hnb gang has to beat up before talking to Da Devil Himself.. more about him below
he hosts a gameshow!! its doing sort of badly tbh but he wants it to get popular SOOO badly
one of the devil’s three highly trusted/powerful demon/imp guys to torture people. aster himself isnt as dangerous/violent as the other two guys hes just kind of weird to be around + his gameshow kills people sometimes
seems very confident but in reality hes kind of a pathetic guy tbh. he loses his composure very easily if things don’t go his way (though he tries so so hard to keep himself acting Normal.. hes not very good at it though)
pretty much a Slightly Worse version of roy..
speaking of roy he really REALLY wants to get him + the rest of the main gang on his shitass gameshow (purely bc theyve been causing a lot of trouble in hell and he thinks getting some guys that are Sort Of Well Known in tha underworld could get more people watching his show)
you know that one tumblr sexyman from that webseries that rhymes with bazbin botel? yeah astor is sort of a parody of that guy (i dont like h*zb*n h*tel that much ok) (also i purposefully made him to be tumblr sexyman bait sorry)
i forgot to put this in his ref but hes a bard/symphonic weapon main!! the mic on his tail is just the microphone weapon from thorium (YES i know he isnt actually a thorium playthrough character i just wanna put other classes from different mods as lil subclasses in perraria lore)
physically cannot stop smiling
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danthropologie · 1 year
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that anon being pressed because daniel left the team is HILARIOUS because everyone at red bull is happy to see him back? from max and checo to horner to marko? there's no hard feelings? daniel HIMSELF said no one ever mentioned his first stint when he was negotiating for that role they created for him?
you can have your faves and you can stan them but to disrespect daniel like that over a kid that's never driven an f1 competitively is so condescending and mean
also these weirdos love to forget adrian newey himself has praised daniel's feedback when it comes to talk about how the car feels and how it does so what's even the point of that tone? you don't see daniel back on the grid, that's fair but to disrespect his work because you're pissed is a reach and a half
on the topic of adrian newey specifically, we have to remember that not only has he praised daniel's feedback and approach to debriefs, he was literally doing that shit LAST YEAR, completely unprompted (link).
it's so exceedingly clear that everyone in the team not only loves him as a person but also highly values the contributions that he brings. to act like that's not the case is just delusion (derogatory)
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genosigned · 1 month
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nine favorite albums in no particular order !!
tagged by @timbitshockey and @simmyfrobby thank youuuu
1. DeAnn x Zach Bryan - not gonna lie folks it could be any zb album depending on the day. making this post in the uber from airport in dc where I am going to a zb concert monday !!!
2. Live on Red Barn Radio I&II x Tyler Childers - Tyler also hard to pick album but shake the frost charleston girl & follow you to virgie all on one album ?????
3. Badlands x Halsey - slip gently into a 2010s tumblr vibe… im so tortured and so are my love interests…
4. Red x Taylor Swift - again depends on the day but red most consistently ranks. 1989 vault tracks making a bid though.
5. Blue Neighbourhood x Troye Sivan - in college I worked in the law library and I spent sooo many hours taking the thinnest pages known to man out of giant binders and replacing them like two pages at a time and this was my soundtrack.
6. Brand New Man x Brooks & Dunn - the soundtrack of my youth was 90s country and there’s no voice like ronnie dunn. this one really showcased their full range from neon moon to boot scootin boogie.
7. Stick Season (We’ll All Be Here Forever) x Noah Kahan - you’re gonna go far x sid edit my best fandom contribution to date. Also this album is abt me (from vermont)
8. Rolling Up the Welcome Mat x Kelsea Ballerini - divorce album my beloved. forced my sister to listen to this on repeat before I knew she was considering a divorce sorry k love you
9. Double Live x Garth Brooks - visiting my dads family we always reached a point where the radio went out and it became garth brooks live cd time. I tried to learn the fiddle part of much to old and failed miserably.
i have been tuned out for a couple days so I don’t know who has done it but I think I have seen most people already tagged (my mutuals are my mutuals mutuals you know…) so open tagging anyone who wants to talk music!!
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