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kingofbodyrolls · 9 months

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Stuck in a Snowstorm (m) | pjm

You don’t know how you ended up here. Stuck with your mortal enemy, Park Jimin, in you car – in a fucking snowstorm.

→ Pairing: Jimin x female reader → AU + genres: enemies to lovers, pwp (very little plot – let me be honest, it’s just pure smut). Humor/crack, smut. → Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 - this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact. → Word count: 6,1k → Warnings (general) + triggers: Jimin is just a mean jerk and reader is a brat 😂 Lots of banter, crack and anger towards each other. → Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex, dirty talk, orgasm denial/delay, hair pulling, oral (female and male receiving), breasts and nipple play. Also, use of a tie 👀 → Author’s note: This is actually a story that I planned to write all the way back in 2017 – better late than never, right? 😂 I had only made the plot with some outline, so I basically started from scrap. But it had been stuck in my mind since FOREVER and now I just miss Jimin a shit ton, so I made this. I hope you enjoy it! Also, it shouldn’t be taken too seriously, it’s just smut with minimal plot and don’t question the characters bad actions or some minor plot holes 😂 (Also, I did not proofread this, just because). Also, merry Christmas / happy holidays – this is my gift to you wonderful people out there 💜AND are you guys looking forward to Jimin’s ‘Closer than This’ tomorrow???? 💜

If you prefer to read on AO3 you can read it here 😀

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a mini series ‘The Winter Collection’, but it can be read as a stand alone (as can all the installments in the series).

“I can’t believe this…” in disbelief, you mutter, your voice tinged with uncertainty, while you desperately activate the windshield wiper, yearning for even a fleeting glimpse through the thick curtain of falling snow.

“I can,” Jimin declares from his spot beside you in the passenger seat. His playful critique follows swiftly, delivered with a pout and a firm voice, as he shakes his head in mock disbelief, “You're a terrible driver.”

“Am not!” you retort defiantly, your voice cutting through the air, even as your unwavering gaze remains fixed on the snowy expanse ahead.

A curtain of thick snow descends, veiling everything in an opaque white shroud. The road ahead is swallowed by the relentless onslaught, turning visibility into an elusive challenge.

Your hands clench the wheel with a vice-like grip, the strain evident as your knuckles whiten under the pressure. The tension in your entire body is so palpable that it hurts to fucking drive.

Exhaustion weighs on you heavily, a relentless burden, yet the realization hits that you're only halfway to your friends' Christmas party. Two more hours loom ahead, a daunting stretch of time spent in the company of Park Jimin, your sworn enemy.

The decision to share a car ride is a mystery even to yourself; perhaps it was a fleeting concern for the planet, a noble intention to save fuel by consolidating into one vehicle. Yet, as the journey unfolds, the real reasons behind your choice become an enigma.

Regret courses through you like a bitter undercurrent as you ponder the altruistic intentions behind considering the planet and the environment. The thought of advising Jimin to take his own car nags at you, a missed opportunity for a peaceful solo drive. In a self-cursing moment, you rue your own kindness.

“Let me drive; I’m a better driver than you anyway.” Jimin declares with casual confidence, his tone carrying an air of nonchalance.

“Fuck off, Jimin!” you hiss, frustration dripping from your words like venom.

You squint against the relentless assault of heavy snow, the world outside morphing into an indistinct blur as visibility dwindles.

Your pace is deliberate, a cautious dance with the road, but after several minutes, you relent, succumbing to the inevitable by slowing down even further.

“Fine!” you declare, seizing the steering wheel in a determined clench, bringing the car to an abrupt halt.

You pivot your gaze towards Jimin, the words cutting through the tension, “You fucking drive then.”

Shifting the car into park, you unclip your seatbelt with a determined click, swing the door open, and brave the biting embrace of the freezing snowstorm outside.

In synchronized movements, Jimin mirrors your actions, and together, you step out into the frigid air. The two of you converge outside, a silent agreement palpable in the crunch of snow beneath your feet, as you navigate around the car, preparing to swap seats.

“If you crash my car, I’ll kill you.” you menace, venom seeping through your words as you stride past him, positioning yourself in front of the vehicle.

He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, a smug satisfaction evident in his demeanor, relishing the fact that you've conceded to let him take the wheel.

Jimin confidently eases his plump figure into the driver's seat, and you avert your gaze (definitely not looking!). With a self-assured demeanor, he expertly adjusts the seat to accommodate his frame.

You attempt to thaw your chilled hands under the blast of hot air from the air conditioner, the sour mood hanging heavy around you as you settle into the passenger seat, donning a visible pout.

“Relax, I’m not gonna crash your precious car,” he teases, the playfulness evident in his voice, just before smoothly shifting the car into gear and forging ahead.

In response, a huff escapes your lips, arms instinctively crossing in a silent declaration of your lingering displeasure.

You surrender to a sense of ease as Jimin takes the wheel, his deliberate pace aligning with caution. It's a mutual understanding — in this snow-laden terrain, slow and steady becomes a shared creed for safety.

The once teasing atmosphere now gives way to palpable tension, the air thick with the weight of swirling snow that has intensified. Jimin, too, struggles visibly against the heavier onslaught, the challenge of navigating through the snow turning the car into a place of shared unease.

Your gaze fixates on Jimin, observing as his fingers clench the steering wheel with a tension mirroring your own, and his shoulders stiffen in sync. A chuckle escapes you, unexpectedly audible, as you notice the ironic similarity between his reaction and your earlier demeanor.

“What’s so funny?” Jimin spits, the tension reverberating unmistakably in his voice, each word a note in the symphony of strained emotions.

“Your driving,” you start to chuckle, the amusement laced with a hint of mischief.

“You're not exactly outclassing my skills,” you declare, sinking into the seat with a self-assured smirk, relishing the satisfaction of your own driving prowess.

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” he seethes, the words charged with anger, his gaze sharply turning towards you, locking onto your eyes.

Despite Jimin's cautious speed, the car subtly veers, casting doubt on whether you're still on the road or lost in the oblivion of the thick snow. The blinding white landscape offers no clarity, leaving you uncertain and immersed in a disorienting wintry haze.

“I can’t see fucking shit!” he exclaims, abruptly bringing the car to a halt and cutting the engine in an instant, plunging you both into an eerie silence amid the obscured surroundings.

Your gaze locks onto him, urgency etched across your face. “What are you doing? We've got Seokjin's Christmas party in less than an hour!” The frustration in your voice reverberates, a ticking clock amplifying the stakes of the impending deadline.

“It’s not safe to drive in this freaking snowstorm!” he bellows in response, frustration escalating in his voice, punctuated by the sharp flick of the hazard warning lights, signaling the urgency and danger of the situation.

“I just want to get there already. I'd rather not be stuck with you,” you seethe, teeth gritted, a visible huff escaping in a cloud of anger. The tension hangs heavy, fueled by the biting words that linger in the now frosty air.

“Like I'd willingly be stuck with your sour attitude,” he retorts, his gaze sweeping you from head to toe for some inscrutable reason. “I don't even like you,” he declares, the words loaded with an unspoken tension that hangs in the frosty air between you two.

You gape at him, the bitter truth resonating in the air—an unspoken agreement that neither of you harbors any liking for the other. The animosity between you has solidified into a hostile dynamic, despite the shared circle of friends that consistently throws you together, much to your enduring displeasure.

Jimin exudes an infuriating level of cockiness, ceaselessly pushing your buttons and expertly tapping into the art of annoyance until it feels like your nerves are unraveling at his mere presence.

You'd willingly brave the biting cold rather than endure the prospect of an unpredictable future confined with him inside the car. Fate seems to revel in mocking you, as the car rapidly succumbs to the encroaching chill, each passing minute intensifying the unwelcome cold that now permeates the confined space.

You clutch your arms tightly around your body, desperately running your hands up and down in a futile attempt to gather some warmth. A curse slips from your lips as you question your own sanity—why in the world did you take off your jacket for the drive? Now it's trapped in the damn trunk, and the thought of braving the freezing cold to retrieve it is utterly unappealing.

“Cold?” he chuckles, the sound carrying an edge of amusement that only amplifies the chill sinking into your bones.

You nod your head.

“Well, I’m not giving you my jacket,” he states matter-of-factly, cocooning himself in the evident warmth of his puffer jacket. Damn Park Jimin and his infuriating nonchalance, he's truly a master of being a jerk!

“Can't even manage a simple act of kindness,” you mutter with disdain, the words escaping in a sharp hiss, a low and almost grumbling tone, accompanied by a dismissive eye roll.

“What's that?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips, relishing the snug warmth of his jacket while you shiver in the cold.

“Fuck you, Park!” you shout directly in his face, your words laced with frustration. Instead of a retort, he just chuckles, the sound taking on a manic edge that lingers in the frosty air, leaving an unsettling resonance to your heated exchange.

An indeterminate amount of time slips away, lost in the relentless snowfall that shows no sign of relenting. Frustration building, you reach for your phone and decide to text Seokjin, realizing that this damn snow isn't planning on letting up anytime soon.

You [15.42]: Stuck in a snowstorm with fucking Park Jimin. I don’t know when we’ll arrive 🙄

Jin [15.48]: Just stay safe 😂

Fuck Seokjin! You’re convinced that he’s somewhere enjoying a good laugh at your misfortune.

A surge of realization hits you like a bolt of inspiration—there's a blanket tucked away in the backseat. Swiftly moving up, you make your way to the center console.

“What’re you doing?” Jimin questions, his curiosity evident in the quirk of his eyebrow as you navigate over the center console, leaving him bewildered by your sudden, mysterious movements.

“There's a blanket back here,” you announce triumphantly, finally laying hands on the sought-after comfort. With a satisfying plop into the seat, you tug the blanket snugly over your cold body, a gesture that transforms the atmosphere within the car from chilly discomfort to a brief oasis of warmth.

After a few contemplative minutes, Jimin breaks the silence with a question that hangs in the air, “Mind if I join you?”

Your mouth falls agape, and your eyes widen in astonishment at his unexpected question. Collecting yourself, you respond with a hint of sarcasm, “You weren't keen on sharing your jacket with me. What makes you think I'd be willing to share my blanket with you?” The tension between you and Jimin escalates with each word, hanging palpably in the cold air.

Without a pause for your response, he defies the silence, navigating over the center console with the same determined crawl you had exhibited moments before. The unspoken tension between you both amplifies, turning the confined space into an arena of silent rivalry.

Seated beside you, he makes a grab for the blanket cocooning your shivering form. Resolute, you refuse to surrender it, your hands engaging in a tug of war with him.

“Share, you brat,” he hisses with a mix of irritation and amusement, his determination evident in the forceful tug at the blanket.

“No!” you hiss back defiantly, the word laced with a stubborn refusal as you hold your ground.

With a forceful yank, he wrenches the blanket from your grasp, and in the struggle, he ends up with it draped across his lap. The victorious outcome of the skirmish leaves a charged atmosphere between you and Jimin, the warmth of the blanket now a coveted prize in his possession.

A triumphant smirk plays on his lips as he envelops himself in the captured blanket. His eyes lock onto your moping expression before descending further, a mischievous gleam indicating that his victory goes beyond the simple conquest of the blanket.

“I can totally see your nipples,” he chuckles.

You glance down, and sure enough, your nipples stand out against the satin material of your dress. Swiftly, you react, pressing your hands over your breasts in a sudden move to conceal their visibility.

“Why the fuck are you look at my tits?” you yell at him, your frustration audible, but he merely chuckles in response.

“You must really be freezing, huh?” he observes, and you simply nod in agreement, a silent acknowledgment of the biting cold that permeates the confined space.

“I can warm you up,” he suggests with a playful wink, both eyes and eyebrows conspiring in unison. The underlying implication of his words hangs in the air, and you instantly grasp the nature of his playful proposition.

“I'm not that desperate, Park,” you scoff with a hint of disgust, the rejection laced with a prideful undertone. In response, he simply chuckles, finding amusement in your candid dismissal.

Following his suggestive remark, an electric charge seems to surge through the atmosphere in the car. Your mind involuntarily races, envisioning the prospect of warming up next to him, his hands tracing every contour of your body, his di—

Stop. You admonish yourself sternly, a mental command to cease the vivid thoughts involving him. He's your enemy, you remind yourself, emphasizing the intense dislike you harbor for Park Jimin. The internal conflict heightens, the struggle between attraction and animosity weaving a complex web within your mind.

His chuckle resonates beside you, a sound that grates on your nerves. Irritation mounts, and you sharply turn your head towards him, your annoyance evident in the flicker of your gaze.

“Need help?” he inquires, his gaze suddenly deepening, the darkness in his eyes unveiling a subtle intensity that lingers in the air.

“With what?” you spit back at him, the confusion evident in your tone.

“You're grinding against the seat,” he bluntly points out, his gaze fixed on your crotch. You glance down, discovering your unconscious movement against the fabric of the seat. A sudden realization dawns, and an expletive slips from your lips.

A wave of discomfort washes over you, an intense desire to squirm and disappear into the ground, engulfed by the embarrassment that now saturates the air. The profound sense of shame hangs heavy, making the moment so excruciatingly humiliating.

You inhale sharply, drawing in a breath that seems to shudder through you, and with a deliberate move, you roll your hips once more.

“No…” you murmur, the word escaping with a shaky uncertainty that even your own ears can detect.

Jimin scoots closer to you, the warmth radiating from his body sending sparks that seem to dance through yours.

He leans into you, his mouth dangerously close to your ear, and in a breathy whisper, he offers, “I can help you with that.”

His words alone send a jolt through your body, a sudden tightening that ignites a fiery sensation. Damn it. The internal conflict and desire entwine, creating a tumultuous storm within you in the presence of him. It's undeniable—your entire being yearns for the touch you never thought you'd crave.

His warm hand finds its way to your thigh, and a low moan escapes your lips at the contact. Fuck.

His hand ventures down to the hem of your dress, grabbing and pulling it back to expose more of your thighs. A shiver runs down your spine as the cold air embraces your newly exposed skin, and a hiss escapes your lips. However, the sensation is quickly replaced by a different kind of warmth as his hand cups your clothed core. A breathless expletive escapes your lips, leaving your mind in a blissful blank state.

Instantly, you feel the warmth of his hand intimately against you, and your head falls back against the seat involuntarily. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you respond to the touch, unable to resist rolling your hips into the sensation.

“You’re needy,” he breathes against your ear, the words carrying a provocative weight that reverberates through you.

His warm breath sends a cascade of shivers down your spine, clouding your thoughts in a haze of desire. The desire for release intensifies, eclipsing any reservations you may have about seeking it from your mortal enemy.

“Shut up and just touch me,” you utter in frustration, the words punctuated by the deliberate grind of your hips into his hand, a desperate quest for any kind of friction. You're acutely aware of the desperation seeping through your actions, but at this moment, you don’t give a fuck.

And touch you he does. His fingers begin to rub your clit over the fabric of your panties, and you don't hold back your moans.

Your hips gyrate, a rhythmic dance in pursuit of your impending orgasm. The sensation builds rapidly, a cascade of pleasure on the brink. The question lingers in your mind—why does your body respond so eagerly to his touch?

He tugs your panties to the side, his touch on your clit eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. The warmth of his fingers against your skin amplifies the sensation, and you're already soaked.

“You're so wet already,” he chuckles against your ear, his lips teasingly grazing your skin. The desire to retaliate surges within you, but then, with a sudden and deliberate movement, one of his fingers enters your pussy, stealing your breath away.

He skillfully fingers you with one finger, the motion of his wrist simultaneously stroking against your clit, creating a sensation that's nothing short of delicious. The desire for more intensifies, an insatiable craving building within you.

“More,” you breathe, your voice escaping chapped and laden with a raw, lustful edge.

Jimin adds one more digit, and you relish in the precision with which he finds your soft spot, hitting it perfectly.

“Are you gonna come on my fingers?” he whispers in your ear, the suggestive question sending an instant jolt through your body, a yearning for more.

A throaty moan escapes your lips as you willingly spread your legs wider, granting him more space.

He deftly introduces a third finger into you, and you feel yourself losing control, swept away by the overwhelming pleasure. It's already so good—how is he so skilled with his fingers?

The way he skillfully uses his fingers inside you while simultaneously rubbing your clit with his wrist propels you relentlessly toward the precipice of climax. The knot in your stomach tightens, and you're on the verge of that intoxicating release.

“Jimin, fuck. I'm gonna come soon,” you pant, the urgency in your voice underscored by the rhythmic grind of your pussy against his hand.

He accelerates the pace of his fingers inside you, bringing you to the brink, but just as your body teeters on the edge of release, he abruptly withdraws his fingers and hand altogether.

His fingers and hand vanish, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. The abrupt absence intensifies the frustration and desire you feel surge through your body. Fuck!

Your legs tremble beneath you, and a frustrated hiss escapes your lips as you pant for breath.

“You didn't want to share the blanket,” he spews, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your evident frustration.

You're on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger. The desperate desire for release compounds the emotional turmoil within you. The audacity of him! The frustration boils over, cementing Jimin as nothing short of a fucking jerk in your mind.

“I'm not letting you come unless you beg for it,” he adds in a smug voice, a smirk playing on his lips as he purposefully puts some distance between you.

You can't believe him. The brink of pleasure was within reach—just a few more rubs and you would have unraveled on his fingers. The yearning is palpable, a frustrating ache that intensifies with each passing moment.

You growl at him, caught in a heated internal debate about whether to plead with him or not.

Your pussy clenches around emptiness, a visceral reminder of your desperation.

“Please, Jimin. Please let me come,” you implore, locking eyes with him and turning your body toward him. The desperation in your gaze is palpable. Almost inadvertently, you press your chest closer, your stiff nipples drawing his gaze downward.

He licks his lips teasingly, a wicked glint in his eyes, before seizing your hips and drawing you irresistibly toward him. With a swift yet controlled motion, he manipulates your body, guiding you to lie on the seat. As you settle into the unexpected position, he chuckles at the genuine confusion etched across your face.

“Because you asked so nicely,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and in a bold move, he shoves your dress up to your stomach. With swift precision, he snatches your panties, sliding them down your legs. “I'll give you what you want.”

He discards your panties with a deliberate flick, his focus unwavering as he plunges down to your throbbing pussy. There's no hesitation; he immediately delves into licking at your folds and clit with a hunger that matches your own.

Your body instinctively arches off the length of the seat, a wave of pleasure coursing through you. It feels unbelievably good. In the heat of the moment, your hands find his hair, fingers gripping and pulling at the strands, eliciting a guttural groan from him.

Your muscles tighten, and the echoes of the previous orgasm, forcefully ripped from you, return with an intensity that feels tenfold. Each breath is a furious pant as he continues to lap at your folds, the relentless pleasure building and intertwining with your gasps.

Then, with a skillful touch, he adds a finger to your clit, rubbing it in tantalizing circles. Your senses heighten, and just as you succumb to the pleasure, he skillfully continues to ravish your entrance with his tongue.

“Jimin!” you scream his name, a raw and unrestrained cry escaping your lips as you reach the peak of ecstasy on his tongue. Your body tightens, toes curling, and you involuntarily hitch your heels against his legs. In the throes of pleasure, your vision blurs, and you fight for air.

He chuckles, a throaty sound that reverberates in the aftermath of your high. Not giving you a moment to fully come down, he skillfully inserts two of his fingers inside you, drawing a hiss from your lips at the touch—your body rendered oversensitive.

He extends his fingers, proudly displaying them, glistening with your intimate juices. A wicked glint in his eyes, he issues a command, “Clean them.”

You meet his gaze defiantly, a spark of challenge in your eyes, before obediently rising to carry out his command. Taking hold of his hand, you sensually draw his slick digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them like a provocative dance. Your eyes lock onto his, witnessing the raw desire in his gaze as you release his fingers with an audible ‘pop’.

“I hate you,” you declare, breathless, the words carrying a mixture of frustration and desire. His response is a low chuckle, his perceptive gaze catching the teasing glint in your eyes.

He leans back, a provocative smirk playing on his lips, and starts palming himself through his dress pants. Your eyes involuntarily follow the movement of his hands, and a jolt of desire courses through you as you realize he's already rock hard. The unmistakable bulge strains against his pants, a visual testament to the arousal simmering between you two.

“I can help you with that,” you purr, a sultry promise lingering in your eyes, eager to reciprocate the pleasure.

He chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and smoothly turns his body to fully face you. With a teasing smirk, he unzips his pants, skillfully pulling down both his trousers and underwear enough to liberate his hardened dick.

His cock springs free, defiantly brushing against the bottom of his loosened tie, a sight that's undeniably tantalizing. Perfectly sculpted, it's veiny and slightly flushed at the tip, mirroring the allure of every inch of him. A surge of conflicting emotions overwhelms you – the hate, the desire, the acknowledgment of his undeniable appeal. You despise how effortlessly good-looking he is, from the tousled blonde locks to those lips you now crave to taste.

However, your gaze returns to his dick, noting its average size but with a satisfying girth that catches your attention. A subtle hint of anticipation flickers in your eyes, and your tongue instinctively darts out to moisten your lips.

“Then get to work,” he pants, a breathy command, as he sensually spreads his legs, creating an inviting space for you.

You descend eagerly, ensuring your mouth is generously coated with saliva before you engulf him, starting with just the tip.

He hisses the moment your lips meet his dick, his head instinctively colliding with the window behind him, an involuntary exclamation escaping, “Ah, fuck.”

You engulf more of him, your mouth descending entirely, and the sound of his primal moan reverberates in response. You add a sultry hum, a note of satisfaction coursing through you.

You initiate a slow, deliberate pace, skillfully sucking him off, and anything beyond your mouth's capacity, you sensually stroke with your hand.

His hands seek out your hair, effortlessly capturing the neatly arranged high ponytail that he grasps with a possessive confidence.

You revel in the subtle tension, accelerating your descent on him with a newfound urgency. Your tongue skillfully traces intricate patterns, dancing across his tip and the sensitive folds of his frenulum.

He moans in ecstasy as you withdraw with a satisfying ‘pop,’ only to treat the head of his throbbing dick like a tempting lollipop, your tongue swirling around it with deliberate sensuality.

As you glance up at him, he appears utterly lost in the moment. His eyes, once vibrant, are now dilated orbs of desire, his parted lips releasing audible breaths. The state of bliss enveloping him transforms his features into a breathtaking display of vulnerability and beauty.

You envelop him once more, relishing the subtle tremor that courses through him, a tangible response to the sensations you're skillfully orchestrating with your lips and tongue.

He yanks you away from him, his voice a raw whisper laden with desire, “I want to fuck you.”

You prop yourself up, captivated by the transformation before you. The usual arrogant Park Jimin is replaced by this vulnerable, needy version, and against your better judgment, a desperate craving for him builds inside you. You ache for him to consume you entirely.

A mischievous smirk plays on your lips as you echo his earlier taunts, “Beg for it,” you challenge, aware of the palpable tension between you, a shared desire pulsating in the charged air.

A low, throaty chuckle escapes him as his fingers glide through the tousled strands of his blonde hair, a mixture of frustration and amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re really a fucking brat,” he hisses, a smirk playing on his lips.

He sits up, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he sheds his open jacket, the confined warmth of the car now turning uncomfortably sweltering. You can't help but acknowledge the irony; at least you're not freezing anymore, which, after all, was the primary objective of this unexpected detour, wasn't it?

“Please let me fuck you,” his plea hangs in the air, a desperate echo of your own request, and you can't help but chuckle, slowly crawling closer to him.

“Turn around, let me straddle you. Leaning against the headrest will give us more space,” you suggest, and he shifts in an instant, his arousal evident in the casual sway of his dick with each movement.

Then you confidently straddle him, your hand instinctively reaching for his dick, guiding him to align perfectly with your eager entrance.

Before you lower yourself onto him, you sensually trail his dick through your wetness, relishing in the intimate friction. A moan escapes your lips as you then descend onto his lap in one smooth, sultry motion.

The exquisite stretch sends a shiver down your spine, and he effortlessly glides in, eliciting a breathless ‘Fuck!’ from your lips.

As your hands find their place on his shoulders for support, his eyes, now hooded, follow your every movement as you begin to ride him with a rhythm that echoes the passion pulsing between you.

You pant furiously, your breath hot against his face. The sensation of him inside you is nothing short of heavenly, an electrifying connection that feels as if every contour of him aligns perfectly with every curve of your pussy.

“Ah,” ecstasy courses through you with each fervent bounce on his throbbing length, a harmonious rhythm of pleasure escaping your lips in breathless gasps.

“You’re so tight,” his ragged breaths synchronize with the rhythmic clench of your walls, his hands anchoring to your hips, adding an electrifying intensity to each blissful plunge into your velvet warmth.

Between gasps, you manage to growl, “Fuck. I hate you,” only to be met with his deep, throaty chuckle as he continues the relentless rhythm of his thrusts, each one a tumultuous clash of conflicting desires.

Amidst heavy breaths, he accuses, “I know you're lying,” his words punctuated by the rhythmic tempo of his panting. Undeterred, he leans in for a searing kiss, his lips caressing yours with a softness akin to pillows. Your defenses crumble as you melt into his touch, tongues colliding in a fervent dance that defies the lingering tension.

“Why is it that you feel so damn good?” you gasp, interrupting the kiss only to plunge back into its intoxicating depths. Each moment spent in his embrace feels like a surrender to a passionate whirlwind. His every thrust reverberates through you, sending electrifying shivers down your spine, an exquisite dance of pleasure and desire that you find impossible to resist.

“Perhaps I should prolong your climax, just as you did to me?” you purr with a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, resurrecting the playful brat within you.

He chuckles, his hands leaving the curve of your hips to gracefully undo his tie at his neck. Your gaze fixates on him, observing each deliberate move as he frees himself from the constriction of the tie, all while you continue to ride him with an unabashed hunger.

“You really are a fucking brat,” he mutters, the corners of his lips quirking into a sly smile as he pulls off his tie. “Now, shut up,” he commands, silencing any potential retorts by expertly stuffing the tie into your open, protesting mouth.

You yield to the makeshift gag, sinking your teeth into the fabric, muffling the symphony of your own desperate moans.

A smirk plays on his lips as his hands reclaim your hips, commanding, “Now take it like the fucking brat that you are.”

His movements become a relentless rhythm, thrusting deep inside you. All you can do is cling to his shoulders, swept away by the force of his desire.

Ecstasy courses through you, and you can't help but moan into the fabric of his tie. It feels too damn good to contain.

His voice drips with satisfaction as he senses your walls tightening around him, and a smug grin plays on his lips. “You like that, huh?”

A guttural moan escapes your lips in response, the crescendo of pleasure building, and you sense the impending climax drawing near.

“Fuck yourself on my dick,” his command hangs in the air, thick with desire, as his hands abandon your hips, embarking on a journey down your back. With a swift motion, he unzips your dress, letting it cascade down your shoulders.

Your naked breasts dances to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, an erotic ballet of passion and desire.

“Fuck. You’re not wearing a bra, just like I thought,” his eyes widen in delighted surprise, a devilish grin playing on his lips. His hands eagerly exploring the contours of your exposed tits.

His words hang in the air, sending a shiver down your spine. “Your tits are beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns around your stiffened nipples. Your body reacts instinctively, a primal moan escaping through the tie as desire courses through you.

Every grind and movement becomes a challenge as he expertly tweaks and pulls at your nipples, sending waves of pleasure and distraction through your body. You fight to maintain a rhythm, desperately trying to pleasure yourself on his dick amidst the electrifying sensations dancing across your chest.

As your walls clench around him, a whirlwind of sensations floods your body, signaling that the peak of pleasure is just a breath away. Every nerve is on edge, and the anticipation of an imminent climax tingles through you, a storm about to erupt.

As he skillfully massages your tits, he breathlessly teases, “You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” his words send shivers down your spine, intensifying the pleasure that's building within you.

With a fervent nod, you surrender to the sensations, your muffled moans echoing through the tie as pleasure courses through every inch of your being.

As he plunges into you, he urges you with a guttural command, “Cream my cock, brat.” The raw desire in his voice fuels the intensity of your connection, igniting a blaze of passion.

Overwhelmed by desire, his dick finding every exquisite spot within you, you unleash a guttural moan, your pleasure echoing into the fabric of the tie as you climax on his pulsating cock.

Jimin's fingers twist around your hardened nipples, sending electric shocks of ecstasy through your body. A guttural exclamation escapes your lips, muffled by the tie, as pleasure courses through every fiber of your being.

He pounds into you relentlessly, the rhythm building towards an intense climax. His hands firmly grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he desperately seeks his own release.

He reaches the peak of ecstasy, his body shuddering with the force of his release as he spills into the warmth of your pussy.

Heaving for breath, the silence between you two speaks volumes, a shared understanding lingering in the air as you descend from the euphoric heights of your climaxes.

Collapsing onto his chest, you revel in the soothing aftermath, liberated from the restraint of his tie. As his body relaxes within you, the intimacy lingers, a tangible connection forged in the heat of passion.

His lips graze your neck with a gentle touch, igniting a cascade of thoughts about the significance behind this tender gesture.

As laughter fills the air, shattering the lingering tension, your attention shifts to the foggy windows and the oppressive heaviness in the car, making each breath a deliberate act.

As you hastily redress, Jimin slips into his jacket and steps out of the car, retrieving your coat from the trunk. With a gentle handoff, he passes it to you, and you quickly slip into its comforting warmth.

“Thank you,” your gratitude escapes in a hushed whisper, laden with a touch of bewilderment. The encounter, while undeniably electrifying, leaves you grappling with conflicting emotions. It's Park Jimin, your sworn adversary, and the intensity of the shared moment hangs between you, a paradox of pleasure and rivalry.

“You’re welcome,” his response carries a self-assured smirk, echoing the lingering traces of the shared intimacy. As he confidently returns to the driver's seat, you mirror his actions, settling into the passenger's seat, both enveloped in a charged silence that speaks volumes.

The snowfall has eased, no longer as relentless as before. A subtle nostalgia creeps in as you reflect on his desire to keep you warm. The gentle flakes now fall, leaving you yearning for the lingering warmth of his touch.

As he revs the engine to life, a gust of chilly air sweeps through the car, causing you to emit an involuntary grunt. His chuckle fills the cabin, accompanied by a smirk and a teasing wink. “I can warm you up anytime,”

You shoot him a moping gaze, wondering if he has a knack for deciphering your thoughts. Can he sense the magnetic pull, the unspoken attraction that mirrors your own inner turmoil?

You return his smile, a silent agreement resonating between you as he steers the car forward, setting the wheels and unspoken possibilities in motion.

Three hours fashionably late, you finally arrive at Seokjin's Christmas party. The distant hum of music greets you as you step out of the car, signaling that the celebration is already in full swing.

As you rap your knuckles against the door, you steal a glance at Jimin who's busy adjusting his attire. His fingers deftly tighten the knot of his tie, and his pants get a quick, inconspicuous tug into place.

As Seokjin swings the door open, a tantalizing waft of mouthwatering aromas envelops your senses, instantly sparking a smile on your face.

Seokjin's laughter echoes as he playfully accuses, “You fucked Jimin!” and your jaw drops in disbelief to the floor.

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devotedfem · 2 months

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→ Kitty Gang

Synopsis: Kitty gang Jimin thought you were the cutest detective to ever exist. You really think you can caught him? He was just playing mind games with you, after all, you're his little mouse, the prey who's being played before being swallowed whole.

Park Jimin x f. reader

Genre: criminal au | yander-ish

Tags: criminal Jimin, detective reader, chasing, violence, yandere Jimin, fierce reader, slutty Jimin, power play, running from the law.

From the series masterlist; The chasing.

You groaned tired of the chase, the government doesn't pay you good enough to deal with this headache named Park Jimin, or kitty gang for the people of the streets.

At first it was thrilling, this sick game of cat and mouse. You were craving the feeling of putting that criminal behind the bars, that narcissistic cunt that think he's better than everyone else, and you almost fell by his angelic and "innocent" appearance when you met him for the first time, alone in a warehouse where he had hostage your coworker, but when you saw his sadistic smile and glinted eyes while torturing your friend, you knew he was a psycho who hides behind a pretty face.

It's been six months since the first time you met him, and since he killed your coworker, thence you swear to catch that sicko and put him in his place. You never failed a target, until him.

He always led you to fake clues, and you always took the bait, to your annoyance. And you were getting tired of him, of his baits and his arrogant smirks as if he was so above you. You hate him.

"..Y/n.." Jimin singsong somewhere in the dark. You couldn't find him, and you felt his piercing gaze on you.

"Why are you hiding Jimin-ssi? Are you afraid of me?" You mocked him, squinting your eyes to try to see better in the dark.

An airy chuckle sound very close to you, so close to your back.

You freeze in your place, your hand on your pistol. You won't turn back, yet.

"My dear y/n, you're the one who should be afraid." A hot whisper in your ear made you jump, ready to point your weapon at him, but he stopped you by grabbing your arms with one of his hands, while the other wrapped tightly around your neck.

This was the first time he got so close to you, and you can't help but feel a little afraid. This was unpredictable, this was new. And you didn't like it at all.

"Are you finally going to kill me?" Your voice sounded strangled by his grip, but you won't let him know that you're afraid. And if this is your last night alive, then so it be, but you won't go without a fight.

The grip around your neck tighten a little making you whimper, and Jimin's hot breath brushed your cheek, the front of his body is now all over your back.

"Watch your mouth detective, you're in no place to talk back to me. It's time you know your place," he warned lowly, with his lips brushing your jaw and cheek.

Your heart beat was wild against your ribcage, the adrenaline running hot in your veins. You didn't know what was happening, or what will happen to you, but you were feeling scared, trapped, angry and aroused, all at the same time.

"What do you want from me? Are you enjoying this? I bet you are sicko," you spat the last word. And you knew you hit a nerve.

The next thing you know, is that your back was crashed roughly against the wall, with Jimin's body pinning yours to it. You can feel his fury bursting from his body, wrapping you both. His breath was agitated and hot against your face, and you were drinking in it, dizzy from everything.

But then cold fear freeze your body when you felt both of your wrists being handcuffed, widening your eyes with anxiety.

Jimin grabbed your jaw roughly to make you look up at him, and that sadistic smile showed in his face.

"I think it's time for your punishment detective, I've been too soft on you," your breath hitch with fear at his words, "you know how good i'm with torturing people, you could ask your friend if he were still alive," he mocked cruelly, and your gaze blurred by your tears.

"Oh, don't cry my y/n, i promise to be nice to you. After all, your punishment will be special," he whispered the last word, like a mischievous oath.

You were so fucked up.

@demonshauntingthedoves

#bts jimin #bangtan fanfic #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere x reader #yandere jimin #x reader #bts imagines #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin x oc #jimin x y/n #jimin x you #yandere x you #yandere kpop #jimin scenarios #jimin oneshot #fanfic

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erotica-ficx · 2 months

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Magic Hands

Pairing : Boyfriend!Jimin x Girlfriend!Reader.

Genre : Soft!Boyfriend au, Smut au.

Summary : Where you can't help but melt and twitch everytime his hands touch you.

Warning(s)! : Teasing, groping, caressing, kisses, fingering (in front of the mirror), overstimulation, crying, smacking (once? ig), petnames (darling), dom!mc x sub!oc (that's all ig).

The soft and gentle feeling of your boyfriend's cold fingers brushing against your skin causes you to shiver, making your back arc. His not so huge yet soft hand caresses the inside of your right thigh, squeezing it lightly.

You let out a breathy whimper as his fingers reach your center, tapping your nub, and your muscles tense up.

With your eyes shut close and right hand covering your mouth to stop your pleasurable noises from escaping, your other hand clutches his left bicep, your body shaking.

"Relax, darling. Open your eyes and see how beautiful you're looking right now." His breathy and gentle voice reaches your ears, his warm breath hitting the side of your face, fanning your skin, and the blush on your cheeks deepens.

You're so damn aware of the body length mirror standing right in front of you, which is the reason why you've your eyes shut tight, not wanting to witness the erotic view ahead.

Of course you're too embarrassed to watch yourself sitting on the edge of the bed in your boyfriend's lap with your legs wide open, your bottoms gone with his magic hands doing wonders on your body.

"J-Jimin-ah..!" His name escapes your lips as a oh so pretty moan, and the said person feels butterflies erupting in his stomach, a smile creeping on his lips as his heart flutters.

"Yes, darling?" His voice gets huskier as you keep wriggling in his arms, causing him to tighten his hold on the side of your waist.

"I-I can't...!" You cry, the overstimulation causing your clit to throb, body trembling hard.

"Oh, yes? I'll stop and give you what you want once you open your eyes for me, darling." A breathy chuckle leaves his lips at your whiny self, and he plays with your throbbing center, teasing you more.

You know how demanding he can be in bed, no matter soft or rough, so you do your best to force your eyelids open because you know he won't stop playing around with you unless you don't do as he pleases.

As your eyes flutter open, your blurry vision doesn't allow you to see properly, so you blink your eyes a few times to clear your vision, which was a mistake.

As soon your view gets clear, your eyes travel to the mirror right in front of you, and you can see everything, literally everything.

Throw your eyelashes, you can see how his fingers dance over your skin, playing with your outer folds and teasing them, overstimulating you further while his other hand massages your inner thigh, squeezing it from time to time.

You let out a loud moan as his middle and ring finger press against your gaping entrance before sliding in oh so easily through your pretty little slick walls.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the sensation and you clutch his bicep tighter, toes curling up at the delicious feeling of his fingers massaging your gummy walls as your back arcs, sensitive moans falling from your lips.

Your eyes prick with tears as his first two fingers hit your sensitive spot in one go, slowly and steadily abusing it, making you see literal stars.

Your breathing remains ragged as his other hand slides up from your bare belly, traveling up to grope your clothed breast, massaging it in his palm while giving it moderate squeezes from time to time.

"J-Jimin-ah, I-I can-n't! I'm gon-na-" Your sentence gets cut off in the middle as he slides out his fingers from your tunnel, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness.

"Why-..!!" The whine leaves your lips before you could stop it, and the very next moment, a smack echoes throughout the four walls of the bedroom, followed by your loud cry of pain as his hand comes down to your thigh with great force.

The tears that had consumed your eyes earlier now fall down your rosy cheeks freely, your sobs turning to hiccups, the skin hot and burning with his red handprint.

"Aww, did I hurt you, darling?" Jimin's voice comes from the side of your face, and your head moves on it's own, the nod confirming his assumption, and the chuckle that rumbles from his chest causes you to tremble, a shudder going down your spine before you feel his hot breath fanning your side, deep, husky voice filling your ears.

"But we haven't even started yet, darling. Trust me, the night is still young, and we've a long way to go~"

(this smut is from my Instagram, don't know why but I just felt like posting it here ◜◝⁠ )

Requests Are Open!

Follow @erotica-ficx on Tumblr or @/bangtanerotica on Instagram for more! Make sure to check out @erotica-ficx 's writings on Wattpad! (Wattpad ID - @/BangtanErotica)♡

NOTE : Requests will be taken for both BTS and Anime, so make sure to drop your fantasies! ;)

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts jimin #bts #bts fanfction #bts jimin smut #park jimin #jimin smut #bts jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #jimin x oc #jimin x reader #jimin x reader smut

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7waystreet · 2 months

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dirty confessions | park jimin

This BTS 18+ explicit series will include 7 diary entries (one from each of the bangtan boys) confessing to the dirty thoughts they have about (y/n) and the sinful sexual acts they've part taken in during their lives.

I kindly ask the reader to start with pt.1 and end with pt.7 since it's a series and will contain overlapping scenarios and characters ♡

✬ foreword pt. 1 — seokjin pt. 2 — yoongi pt. 3 — namjoon pt. 4 — hoseok pt. 5 — jimin pt. 6 — taehyung pt. 7 — jungkook

pt. 5 — jimin

My dear diary ❀

I have a confession to make. I've always had a deep rooted fantasy about watching my gf (y/n) pleasuring both me and Taehyung together... you know, just like an extra step to solidify our '95 liner soulmate status. And I'm so fucking thrilled to report to you that it finally happened.

Taehyungie doesn't even have to say any words for me to already know how he's feeling... he's a part of me, after all. My intuition that he had the hots for my lovely (y/n) proved to be right when I finally confronted him about it while we were all piss drunk at the karaoke bar last week. I caught him staring at my baby's ass and biting his lips so I light heartedly whispered in his ear if he wanted a piece of that delicious booty, only for him to sloppily slur back "Hell yeah Jiminah, I'd tear her pussy right up like you do every day, you lucky fuck."

Little did he know how hard my cock instantly got listening to his dirty wishes aligning with mine.

Now that I knew Taehyungie was excitedly on board, it felt like a big mission to also convince (y/n) to join in on the fun. Her and I have been together for so long, and I'm grateful to have found someone who makes me feel this comfortable and happy. You already know I've written pages and pages of how much she means to me... which is exactly why I didn't even feel nervous proposing my deepest desire to her. But I was certainly taken aback by the way she reacted to it when I'd asked her.

"What do you think of Tae? Would you be down for a threesome with you, me and him?" I'd proposed while we laid cuddled up in each other's arms on our soft, comfy bed together.

The words "I'm down" popped out of her pretty lips quicker than her fine ass had made me cum the first time we had fucked... quicker than a fucking second, that is.

At first I was confused by her enthusiasm... I didn't understand whether she'd been secretly lusting for Taehyung and was just desperately waiting for this opportunity to spring up. But then again, even if she did, I know for a fact she never cheated on me and went for him behind my back. Sure, he's the most handsome and fuckable man I've ever met, but she loves me too much and I love her and trust her fully. Besides, I was the one desiring this too, so who am I to blame her for wanting the same?

I felt like a damn manager trying to set up a hangout between us three for this heated session to go down, but despite the effort, I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat. I'll never forget that night.

I'd succeeded in getting all three of us settled on the couch in my apartment while we played a movie in the dark and sipped on some wine to ease ourselves in. Of course we all knew what we'd gathered there for, which was a steamy fuck fest, and it was a bit awkward at first, but my brave (y/n) made the first move by placing her pretty palms on each of our thighs as she sat in between the boys. My spine felt a tingle watching her run her hand up and down my shorts, a soft gasp escaping her lips when she saw my milky thigh twitch underneath her touch, all while his other palm smoothed out the wrinkles in Tae's gray sweatpants as she rubbed his thigh in an arousing way.

Her gaze remained on me even though both her hands moved up towards our dicks, her ability to simultaneously massage our hard ons making me fall in love with her all over again. I could hear Tae starting to taking deeper breaths and with one glance at him, I saw his eyes closed and head rolled back into the cushion as he took the feeling of my gf stroking his cock in the darkness, just like she was sexily doing it to me. My loyal (y/n) leaned into me for a kiss but I shook my head... "Go to him" I told her with a smirk and she smiled right back with a nod, giving me a peck before turning her back to me.

God, she's even perfect from the back.

She sat in between us with knees folded up now, leaning into Tae and slowly placing a kiss on his neck, which got him shuddering, his eyes opening up in a flash to observe (y/n) was solely giving him her attention. His first instinct was to shoot me a concerned look, as if he was asking for my permission, but I gave him a go with a nod and he instantly pulled her closer for a deep kiss. Seeing them swapping spits in a steamy makeout started to get me even harder, and my hands just naturally gravitated towards (y/n)'s perfect ass, which was facing me. I squeezed her ass cheeks through her tiny shorts and she whimpered from my touch, slowly crawling back and bending in her knees to angle her ass up in my face more, all while she leaned down and helped Tae take his pants off for a suck.

I just watched for a while... watched the content look on Tae's face as (y/n) took his throbbing cock into her beautiful mouth, his head flopping back into the pillow again as his eyes trailed down at her choking on his length. "Just like that baby" he kept whispering while holding her hair back in a fist, my own arm reaching over to run my fingers through Tae's black curly hair as he sat there throat fucking my gf. I didn't even care about how he kept calling her baby... how could I get mad about my baby calling my baby, baby?

My needs were growing by the second though and now I just had to pull down (y/n)'s shorts for a taste of her pussy, my thick lips attaching to her folds as I laid on the couch and angled myself underneath her, her back arched up until it almost broke. My tongue on her clit and her moaning in reaction got Tae aroused even more, the faster my mouth played around with her sweet pussy the more my best friend's chest kept rising and falling in heaves.

I couldn't take hearing both Tae and (y/n) moaning so loudly so I gave her clit a good suck and flick with my tongue before getting up on my knees and removing my shorts, my boner slapping up just ready to be stuffed inside my gf's tight little pussy. And the room was now filled with all three of our moans when I slid my length in (y/n)'s pussy from the back, the view of her ass jiggling against my stomach while I slammed my cock into her cunt and spanked her ass cheeks immaculate, all while Tae fucked her throat, a sight I'll never forget.

(y/n) was increasingly getting wet, my cock slipping in and out of her while I grunted from the way her walls gripped me, but I was distracted when Tae whined out "I want to taste her pussy". And I happily let him. We easily switched things up, the harmony between our motions almost suspiciously smooth, as if we were all meant to make this happen... hopefully more than this one time.

Tae disappeared in between (y/n)'s thighs when she laid on her back on the couch, her face turned to the side to allow my cock to slide into her mouth as I stood by the couch near her face. God, it felt so great watching Tae eat her out while digging his nails into her thighs, her legs flailing about and throat pulsating from the muffled out shrieks, my cock hitting the back of her mouth and fully nestled inside like a glove. My fantasy was indeed finally my reality, and I came straight down (y/n)'s throat after I reached that intense high which I'd dreamed about for so long. My bub swallowed my load of cum all at once like the good little girl she is, and Tae looked up to take a note of this after hearing my satisfied sigh. It was his turn to enter her all over again.

Tae fucked (y/n) straight to the heavens to say the least, living his own fantasy himself while I leaned down and sucked on (y/n)'s perky tits to up her sensitivity. I know my baby needs that extra kick to reach her orgasm and I was going to help her achieve that like I always do, right as Taehyungie gave her the pounding of her life. I'd already seen his cock since we've showered together in our dorm bathroom before, but never have I ever seen it so rock hard and erect, the veins running down his length making my eyes pop out. I stared at him entering in and out of my girlfriend's pussy while my lips sucked on (y/n)'s puffed out nipples.

She suddenly pulled the hair on the back of my head and made me come up to her lips, her deep desire to kiss me making me feel wanted and needed. It was a boost to my ego knowing Tae was dicking her down but she still wished for my lips to be sealed with hers and that's exactly what we did... my tongue mingling with her squishy one as she desperately panted for a breath, my fingers still pinching her nipples while we continued to make out with a crazy burning passion. Tae's thrusting pace got faster and (y/n) finally let go, her entire body tensing up and freezing as she orgasmed, my lips placing a soft kiss on her lips as she let out a shaky sigh, her chest then collapsing down and her back sinking into the couch.

Tae let out a groan and finally came into my gf as I coaxed sweet words into her ears, a smile curling up her lips even though her eyes were closed since she likes the praises I give her. I told her I love her and she said it back within a flash of a second, her grin widening up after she opened her eyes and locked them with mine.

The best part was cleaning up and going back straight into watching the movie together, all three of us cooled down and comfortable right back on the couch we'd just fucked on. Taehyungah ended up sleeping with his head on (y/n)'s lap while she tucked her face in my chest, my eyes drooping shut with a deep content feeling as I watched the two people I care about the most rest close to me with a new found appreciation and respect for each other.

I fucking love my life.

a/n ♡

i imagined jimin wanting to experiment with his best friend and his gf, his appreciation for both showing throughout his confession. the way he loves them is different; he's more possessive about (y/n) but not in a toxic way since he's willing to share her. and he's in pure awe of tae but doesn't neglect his gf or makes her feel less wanted despite this

— he treats his diary like a friend: says "my dear diary", "report to you", "you know i've written pages and pages" as if he's having a convo with his journal

— his romantic side: he always says "my (y/n)" and calls her lots of endearing words like lovely, brave, pretty, stunning, etc.

— his needy side: when (y/n) expresses she wants intimacy with him, his ego is boosted bcuz he loves to feel wanted. jimin acts this way around the members all the time, being needy for their attention

— his will to put his desires aside to watch the enjoyment on tae and (y/n)'s faces: jimin's a giver and he always puts his members first so it's no shock he's willing to let (y/n) go to tae first before he dives in

#jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin fic #jimin au #jimin oneshot #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #jimin x oc #boyfriend jimin #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #방탄소년단 #dirtyconfessions #7waystreet

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piedinthepiper · 5 months

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Disease ˖ ⊹

Doctor!Jimin x fem!reader

Summary: You’ve had a sore throat for months now, good thing Doctor Jimin has a cure.

Warnings: dark content, dubcon ish, corruption, smut, mention of bullying, yandere?

Wc: 2.3 k

A/n: wrote a little something based on this request! Reader is innocent in the beginning, but throughout you will discover that she’s not innocent at all, but not in a sexual way… This is a great concept, but this is just so unserious. But I had to! It was right in front of me and I had to!

Another A/n: This is also written based on my firm belief that all doctors were pretentious nerds in high school. Because no one gets grades like that from actually having a life.

This can be read as both a pt. 1 or a pt. 2 to before: disease. They can also be read separately, you decide!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I’m not a doctor, everything is off Google! Some technical terms might me wrong, don’t sue me! Also it’s a really stupid story, it’s pure fiction! If any doctor or medical personnel ever does this to you it’s not ok! Ok?

“Y/n y/l/n.”

Your name was heard throughout the waiting room. You smiled at the woman in scrubs, getting up from your seat to follow her. You clutched your bag to your side. Anxiously walking down the hallway.

“Dr. Park will be with you in a minute.”

She smiled as she stopped, holding the door open for you. You walked into the empty doctor’s office. She closed the door behind you, leaving you alone. You sat down in the chair, placing your purse carefully in your lap. You let out a deep breath. Being in a doctor’s office was just scary. You knew it was safe and all that. It was just something about giving a random person information about yourself that made you nervous. The sterile room that so many people had received bad news in. You were dreading the thought of you also receiving such news in that room. The possibility of not knowing if you’re terminally ill or if you just have a flu. Well, that was why you were there in the first place. The door opened, and your face turned in its direction.

“Good morning, ms. y/l/n, right?”

A sweet calming voice erupted from the man. You nodded and stood up to shake his hand. He sat down opposite of you, starting to click and type on his computer. You nervously looked down at your hands, waiting for him to talk again.

“I see you’ve had a sore throat for quite some time now. Is that the reason you’re here today?”

You looked back up at him again. He was leaning forwards on the desk on his elbows. His hands neatly put together.

“Yes, it’s like I’ve had a cold for months now. It just won’t go away.”

He nodded and typed something on his computer.

“Have you noticed any swelling in your lymph nodes?”

He asked still focused on the computer screen. You thought for a second.

“I don’t know, I haven’t checked.”

He nodded at your answer.

“Any peculiar or ugly coughs? Like slime coughs or even blood?”

“There was this one time where there were a little blood.”

He looked back at you, clearly concerned about what you told him.

“How much?”

You shook your head.

“Very little, it was more the taste of blood. Nothing visible.”

He went back to typing.

“And it was only once.”

You added, trying to make the whole situation sound a little better. It wasn’t even that bad, it was probably just because you had been coughing so much that day, your throat was so sore that a little cut appeared. But it was the reason you decided to go to the doctor in the first place.

“Ok, are you ok with me examining you a little?”

He asked calmly, his full attention back to you. You sighed but nodded. He got up from his chair and pointed to the bed looking thing with a long sheet of paper on it. You got up as well and followed him, jumping slightly to get up on it. You wiped your clammy hands on your jeans, trying your best to calm down. He put on white latex gloves and came over to you, positioning himself between your legs. You straightened your back a little.

“Look up for me.”

You did as asked and looked up at the ceiling. His gloved hands immediately went to your neck. Slightly pushing on the sides of it.

“Does this hurt?”

He asked and you nodded slightly.

“Your lymph nodes are quite swollen actually. It’s weird that you haven’t noticed.”

He said as he quickly moved to your stomach. Your back quickly straightened even more at the sudden contact.

“Just relax for me, I don’t bite.”

He jokingly said. You let out a small laugh and tried your best to relax. He put pressure on your waist.

“Does this hurt?”

He asked and looked you directly in your eyes while his hands roamed your waist. You shook your head, not trusting your voice. He stopped.

“Do you mind taking your sweater off?”

He asked calmly, looking down at where his hands were seconds ago. You panicked for a second, not knowing what to answer.

“Your sweater is quite thick, it’s purely so I can examine you correctly, ms. y/l/n.”

You nodded and started taking off your sweater.

“Of course.”

You mumbled as you pulled it over your head, leaving you in just a black bra. Goosebumps littered your skin at the sudden contact with the cold air. For a second you saw him looking at you, mouth slightly open. It made you uncomfortable, the look was not a professional one.

“Amazing.”

He said and licked his lip slightly before finding your waist again. You tried your best not to freak out at how close he was now. You felt so much more vulnerable now that you were half naked.

“Does it hurt now?”

He asked and did the same motion he did earlier. You shook your head again.

“Can you turn to the side for me?”

He almost whispered. You turned to the side, placing one leg at the floor for stability. You felt his hands slide up your back, pushing at some spots and asking if they hurt. You suddenly felt the cold touch of a stethoscope on your back.

“Breathe slowly in for me.”

You took a deep breath.

“Keep going, keep going for me, y/n.”

You breathed out once those words escaped his mouth. He didn’t say it like a doctor would. There was something behind it you couldn’t put your finger on.

“Try again.”

He uttered and you did. You managed to hold your breath.

“Good girl.”

He said as you breathed out again, making you cough.

“That cough doesn’t sound very good.”

He said as he stepped back into your view. You positioned yourself fully back on the bed.

“I’ll examine your mouth now, ok? Tell me if anything feels too uncomfortable.”

You nodded.

“Open up.”

You did as he commanded. He put two of his gloved fingers flat on your tongue.

“Wider, please.”

You opened your mouth as far as you could. He pointed a flashlight down your throat. Tears started forming in your eyes as his fingers almost choked you.

“Looks like you got some tonsils down there.”

His fingers slowly slid out of your mouth and you closed it and swallowed whatever spit had occurred during the examination. He started removing his gloves, throwing them in the nearest bin. He came back to you and placed himself close to you again. So close that it would be awkward to reach for your sweater that had fell to the floor.

“They’re not big enough to remove just yet. They might shrink if you do the right things.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to get a little bit of modesty.

“What do you recommend?”

You asked him.

“Take cough syrup and cough drops, drink as much warm beverages as possible.”

You sighed.

“But I’ve been doing that for months now, and it hasn’t helped as far as I’m concerned.”

You said and looked down, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him that close. He hummed in understanding, stepping slightly away. You took the chance to reach for your sweater again. But his arm stopped you. You sat back up, looking at him confused.

“There is another solution. It’s a bit- well. Unorthodox.”

“What?”

You asked, willing to do whatever he told you. You didn’t want to walk around with a constant sore throat for the rest of your life.

“Do you have a partner?”

He asked. You shook your head, still confused about where he was going with this.

“That’s a shame. You see, recent research has found out that fresh and warm semen can do wonders for a sore throat.”

You swallowed feeling the saliva sting your sore throat. You knew what he was aiming at, you weren’t dumb. Or at least you didn’t think so.

“Really?”

You asked, not convinced that he was actually asking you to blow him.

“Yeah, I’m a doctor, you can trust me.”

You nodded and stepped off the bed, hearing the thin sheet of paper slightly rip. You looked him in the eyes as you sunk down to the floor. Letting your hands drag down his body.

“Woah ok. Didn’t know you were that desperate.”

His hand went to your face as you positioned yourself on you knees.

“I’m just doing this to get better, alright?”

“It’s ok, baby. I’ll help you.”

He was quick to answer, almost eager. You started working on his belt, trying to get it done as quick as possible. Maybe you were dumb, maybe he tricked you to give him a blow job. The thought definitely crossed your mind. But like he said, he was a doctor, he knew this better than you. And after months of trying everything to cure your throat, you were willing to try just one more thing.

You pulled his half hard dick out, giving it a few pumps. It was a good size, even at its half hard stage. You were about to put your lips to it, but his hand reaches your forehead.

“Haven’t you forgotten something?”

He asked with a sly grin. You looked confused at him. He clicked his tongue, hissing slightly.

“Well, I don’t offer this to every patient that comes in with a sore throat. Maybe a thank you, a little begging for my help would work?”

You mentally cursed yourself, but you were too far in to back out now. You let one of your bra straps fall down your shoulder as you looked up at him with doe like eyes. Your hand started jerking him slowly.

“Please, Dr. Park. Please let me suck your cock. You’re the only one that can help my sore throat.”

His eyes changed from slyness to horniness at your words.

“Good girl, you deserve a cure for that throat.”

You kissed his tip.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Park.”

You said before your mouth covered his tip. You started sucking on it watching his face twist in pleasure.

“That’s it.”

He whispered as you swallowed his cock. His head turned to the ceiling, as a moan escaped his lips. You started bobbing your head up and down, not wasting any time and keeping a steady rhythm. His hands reached your hair, grabbing a fistful. He didn’t force you to go deeper, he just held your hair as some sort of stability for himself.

“I always knew you were a little slut. Sucking me dry in my office with other patients waiting outside.”

He started talking dirty once the initial pleasure wave was over. Swearing in between his words.

“I’ve waited for this for so long. Fuck- Ever since I first saw you I’ve wondered what those lips looked like around my cock.”

You choked at his sudden comment, his hand in your hair stopping you from removing yourself of said cock. You started going faster instead, wanting this to stop so you didn’t have to listen to his creepy speech.

“You remember me from high school right?”

You now realised you were very very dumb, as your mind raced through your memories from high school. Park Jimin, the nerdy weirdo in science class. You would always catch him stare at you, but you couldn’t remember ever speaking to him. Well, except for when you and your friends would call him names and break his glasses. He pushed his hips forward, making you choke again.

“Of course you don’t. You were too popular. But- shit. Look at me now.”

You looked up at him with teary eyes. His hand went from your hair to your cheek, and caressed it carefully.

“I made a shit load of money to have you sucking my dick today. Shit- I have the most gorgeous girl from high school blowing me right now. Finally.”

He started moving his hips, you knew he was close.

“Fuck- you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

He moaned as you felt the warmth of his seed fill your mouth. You waited for it all, not wanting to have any of it actually hit your skin. You swallowed, before you got up again. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, giving him a deadly look.

“I remember you, you little freak. You were disgusting back then and you still are to this day.”

You erupted adjusting your bra strap back over your shoulder.

“There you are, that’s the y/n I remember. Always something mean to say.”

He said as he tucked himself back, that sly look creeping back onto his face.

“Who’s the bully now, y/n?”

You snarled at him and turned around to get your sweater from the floor. You were ready to leave and change doctors immediately. But before you could get up again you felt his body crash into yours, pushing you up against that bed thing. He bent you over it, whispering in your ear.

“You were always the meanest. And I loved it. I loved you so much. I practically worshipped you.”

His groin was pushed up against your butt. You felt his bulge growing by the second as he took a deep sniff of your hair.

“Please, let me go. I’m sorry, I’m sorry ok?!”

You practically screamed, now afraid of the boy you never thought would be able to overpower you. But that was in high school. He was a man now.

“I will let you go, y/n. I’m not like you.”

But before he did as promised he got a good grip of your tits. Letting out a satisfied moan.

“Even better than I thought they would feel.”

He whispered before stepping away from you slowly. You immediately got away from him, quickly throwing the sweater back on your body.

“Remember that I had the power today, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes and walked towards the door. You stopped, and didn’t speak before your hand was placed firmly on the handle.

“Whatever you fucking weirdo.”

You said and opened the door, not looking back. You regretted being this fucking dumb. Falling for his trick, thinking that he had good intentions. The worst part was that it didn’t even get any better.

——————————————————————————

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blueberryarchive · 1 year

Text

pink lemonade˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ (pjm)

You were finishing painting your nails, a delicate pink covering every single one, frost decorating the tips. You looked at yourself for the umpteenth time in the mirror: your hair was perfect, your makeup shined with the stifling sunlight that came through your window; the heat forced you to wear the shortest skirt in your closet and the small top that looked like a strip of fabric covering your nipples.

Jimin loved seeing you in that skirt. He adored taking you out in it, that you would bend down to tie your heels, and he could see the small bulge of your tight pussy in your pink thong. He would smile slyly and then make you his in the first alley he found, leaving his princess to moan so loudly while he ruined her mascara.

Your flip phone vibrated on the table, and you grabbed it as delicately as possible so as not to ruin the varnish on your nails.

JM: R8 outside bby.

You smiled and opened the door to your bedroom. Today, your roommate went home on vacation, which meant Jimin arrived every time he got off work.

"You came," you shrieked, hugging him around his neck, feet on tiptoe.

"I promised, didn't I?" His voice was foxy, soft, like your cat's purr.

His hands approached your bare waist, and he turned you around, taking you to the mirror where upon finding your reflection and his, you smiled; you knew you were beautiful, and he knew what he had, the way he bit his lips, the hands that explored your figure, every curve, every accessory. He adored and drowned in pride, as he could say he got the sweetest piece of cake in college.

“I like the new piercing,” he murmured, running a finger over the jewel in your navel.

"Don't you think it's too much?" you leaned forward to fix your lipstick, the roundness of your ass rubbing against Jimin's baggy jeans. He denied seeing the skirt decorated with butterflies, so slutty and adorable.

"Come here," his fingers opened to lift up your top, leaving your nipples in the air; a hiss as he watched how they bounced.

"My favorite whore." he laughed, grabbing your hair that took you an hour to fix.

You bit your lower lip covering a laugh, because you were doing it for him, a small gift for him to enjoy and grope every time he arrived. Leaving you with NARS Roman Holiday lipstick smeared all over your cheeks and his cock.

Park dragged the stool from your dresser and sat with his legs open, his pants covered his strong thighs, but when his hand guided your body to sit your pussy on one of them, you felt every muscle under the rough fabric.

"Minnie," you whined, arching your back.

“Mm-mm, let your Minnie do everything,” Jimin pushed his black hair back and turned his eyes to you for affirmation. You nodded. "You don't want to ruin your nails before they dry." He purred in your ear, placing both of your hands behind your back.

"No." you stammered as you felt his leg bounce beneath you, your body starting to bounce with him.

“Your little fingers will look so cute around my cock when the polish dries,” he bit your collarbone, leaving a mark that you squealed at. "What's the name of the color? You haven't used this before."

"Pink Lemonade." You stammered.

Your eyes closed as you felt how the fabric of the lower pockets of his jeans deliciously caressed your clit with every little jump. The knuckles of Jimin's hand behind you touched your anus from time to time, and you felt like you were seeing stars around him.

He loved when you turned stupid, your lips hanging low, letting out babbling that Jimin didn't understand a damn. He didn't give a fuck what you said. either. Your tits were in the air, your hair floating with that intoxicating vanilla smell.

He nimbly put your chest on his other knee, hands still tied with his fingers behind your back. A single finger was enough to lower the thread that you were graciously using to cover your pussy.

His silver-decorated fingers grazed your anus, spitting directly into the pulsing hole.

"Leave your hands behind, princess," Jimin ordered, finally letting go of your hands.

A spanking, so sudden that you could only squeal and moan, the sweet juice coating your thighs at this point. One, two, three, four spanks in a row, alternating until your skin felt the stinging that you love so much. While all this was happening, the bouncing of his leg did not stop, it was so irregular and exquisite.

"Another, ah!" you screamed as you felt four more, Jimin's nose wrinkled, enjoying every bounce of your buttocks. How did all that fit into that short skirt?

"Is my princess going to cum on my fingers? God, you look just about good enough to eat."

Your head nodded fervently, the small nub beginning to swell under the dampness of the jeans. You had such a delicious urge to urinate that you could only whimper.

Jimin's fingers entered all at the same time, forcing your pussy open to let his digits in, the skin around it turning red with each in and out.

His four fingers pumped your fluids and brushed against the gummy walls of your pussy.

At one point, his fingers arched, and your tongue came out in a gasp. Jimin took the opportunity to put your mouth to good use.

"Open wide for me," two of his rough fingers played with your mouth as you sucked automatically. "You're the most beautiful babe in this fucking city."

Your stomach clenched as the bouncing became faster and more even. You bit Jimin's fingers as you came, the fabric of Jimin's jeans getting soggy and hot with the torrent coming out of your messy, red pussy. The aftershocks left you a whimpering chaos.

"Agh, whore." Jimin hissed in pain as you bit his fingers harder, your body shaking on top of him like a leaf. And to think he was just getting started. You laughed as he saw the marks of your teeth on his fingers.

"Let's see the polish," he grabbed your hands. They were perfect.

"Do you like them, Minnie?"

Your Minnie nodded, smiling sweetly.

"Now do your job," he ran his wet fingers over his tongue, the acrid taste and wetness leaving his fingers pruned. "Minnie wants to see you use those pretty hands to please me."

Still in the clouds, you kissed him and smiled. You loved being Jimin's princess, the most beautiful girl in the fucking city, his most delicate and slutty doll.

#bts #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x oc #park jimin #bimbocore #y2k minnie✧⁠*⁠。#bimbo bunny.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

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kookssin · 2 years

Text

[1:58am] | park jimin

PLAY I WANNA BE YOURS BY THE ARCTIC MONKEYS

genre: established! relationship, fluff, smut, soft sex, love, affection, bathtub sex, physical touch, feels

wordcount: 2.1k

✩ !!note: requests for drabbles are open!!✩

it was late at night, 1:58am to be exact. you were laying in jimins bed, watching him as he sat on his desk, working on correcting an essay. he had told you an hour ago he would be done soon and join you in bed, but he was still working and refused to stop working. you were slowly growin impatient since you wanted to spend time with him.

you sighed and rolled off the bed, tiptoeing over to his desk where you pulled on the sleeve of his hoodie. "jimiiiin" you whined, making him hum in response, not looking up from what he was writing "it's been an hour, for how long do you want to continue working on that damn essays? you can just finish it tomorrow"

"an hour? oh shit" he widened his eyes as he looked at the clock on his phone "just a little bit longer baby, you can sleep if you want" he looked up at you, caressing the small of your back as you pouted. "i won't go to to sleep without you, plus i'm not tired yet" "okay, then just wait a little longer alright?" you huffed out, turning around and stomping back to bed. out of the corner of your eye you saw him look at you but turned around as soon as you were on his bed.

you laid on your back and looked at the ceiling, thinking about how you would get him to spend time with you. after a few minutes of thinking, you grinned to yourself, knowing how you would get jimin to spend time with you. you got up from the bed once again, but instead of walking to him, you took off your clothes, only leaving your white lacy undewear on, his favourite.

"babe, what are you doing" he murmured, looking at your figure with hooded eyes as he must've heard you taking off your clothes since he was turned around now. "i'll go and take a warm bath" you innocently smiled at him before walking across his room to the door that led you into his master bathroom, which you were glad at the moment he didn't share with one of the others.

you turned on warm water to fill the big bathtub, smiling to yourself as you lit the scented vanilla candles around the tub. you added some soap to create bubbles before you turned off the lights, the moonlight shining brightly into the big window next to the bathtub, a starry night.

you smiled as you heard jimin entering the bathroom, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed a tender kiss on your neck "you know this is my favourite one" he breathed against you neck, playing with the waistband of your panties, you nodded and bit your lip, holding back a smile "let's turn on some music, hm?" you nodded and let him go over to music box where he connected his phone. you grinned brightly as you heard the bass of the first song filling the bathroom. do i wanna know.

jimin knowingly smirked at you, placing his phone on the counter before he walked back to you, taking off his shirt in the meantime. the tub was still filling up with water as he wrapped his arms around your waist once again, facing you with a soft smile.

"i'm sorry that i took so long with work" he spoke softly, in loosing your bra and taking it off of you. "it's okay" you smiled at him, now you were the one playing with the waistband of his pants. he giggled at that, cupping your face and pulling you into a gentle kiss. you melted into his body, your hands wrapping around his wrists, down his forearm "let's get into the water" he mumbled against your lips, both of you quickly taking off your remaining clothes before you both went into the tub, turning off the water as you both let yourselves relax.

"come here" jimin made grabby hands in your direction, making you smile as you sat on his lap, chest to chest as his arms wrapped around your waist. you wrapped your arms around his neck, biting back a grin as you felt his half hard dick on the inside of your thigh. "what?" he smirked, pressing you harder down agaisnt his dick as he bit his lip. you giggled, falling against his chest as it vibrated under you. "cute" he mumbled, pecking your head before he tilted your chin upwards, connecting your lips into a passionate kiss.

you softly moaned into his mouth as he started massaging your breasts, your hips automatically grinding down on him "mhm, good girl" he spoke against your lip, gripping your waist a little harder, fully hard under you now as your wet slick folds rubbed up and down on him.

"ahh- jimin" you whimpered out, eyes shut as his length perfectly stimulated your clit. "what is it, angel?" he smirked, nipping at your jaw as your head was tilted back "are you gonna cum from just humping me?" he teased, giving your waist a firm squeeze as you nodded, whimpering out"please"

"go on then, cum for me when you're ready baby" he continued kissing your neck, he himself groaning as you moved up and down on him, precum leaking onto his tummy in the process, the water around you making some noises as it hit the walls. "i'm gonna cum" you whined, gripping his shoulders tightly as you moaned out his name, praised leaving his mouth as he held you in his arms, helping you riding out your high as your movements faltered a little.

"such a good girl" he murmured, kissing your lips passionately as you slowly came down from your high. your tongues were messily dancing with each other, the sound of no. 1 part anthem playing in the background. "wanna ride you minie" you breathed against his lips, earning a groan from him as you felt him twitch for a second. "you want to ride me?" he smirked, pulling away from the kiss to look you in the eyes with a cocky look on his face "then do it"

you bit your lip at that, lifting your self up a bit to wrap your fingers around his dick to align it with your entrance, earning a soft moan from him as you pumped his shaft a bit before sinking down on him. "mhmm" he hummed, letting his head fall back against the edge of the tub, eyes closed as you slowly let yourself down on him completely, a whimper escaping your mouth "you feel so good" he praised "keep going angel" his hands comfortingly caressing your sides and back up and down as you adjusted to his size.

after a few moments you were relaxed enough to move; your hands placed against his chest as you slowly began moving up and down on him "mhm~ just like that" he groaned as you rolled your hips against his, a loud moan escaping your mouth as his tip brushed your gspot. you started bouncing again, his dick finding your gspot everytime that you couldn't help but fall onto his chest, continuing your movements as good as you could as he chuckled breathlessly, easily helping you move up and down with his hands on your butt "feels good, doesn't it?" he firmly squeezed your butt, wanting you to answer as you only nodded your head in response, your fingers crawling into his skin as you heavily breathed "feels so g-good" you mumbled out, hoping it was enough for him and it was.

you walls clenched around him as you were nearing your second orgasm, he himself groaning deeply as he was close too. you went slack in his arms as he lifted your butt up and started pounding into you repeatedly, hitting the spongy spot inside you perfectly. "are you gonna cum for me again baby? hm?" he breathed right into your ear, the bathroom filled with the sounds of wet skin slapping, both your moans and the am album playing in the back ground "yes!" you moaned out, clenching around him tightly as you came undone "there you go" he groaned, spilling his cum right into you as he came seconds after you "thaaaats it"

you trembled in his arms from over stimulation as he came deep inside you, both of you moaning loudly.

"you feel incredible" he heavily breathed into your ear, holding you tightly onto him as you gasped for air, slowly but surely coming down from your high "my good little girl"

both of you stilled, heavily breathing as each of you calmed down. you were still laying on his chest when he made the move to pull out of you, but you stopped him before he could do that "stay in me" you mumbled, earning a soft and tried smile from him as he nodded "you did so good baby" he praised, kissing your forehead.

you looked out of the window, staring into the night sky and admiring the stars as you felt his steady heart beat under you, his hands caressing up and down your back as you softly played with his locks, each other's touch relaxing both of you.

you smiled and closed your eyes as you heard the next and last song on the album playing.

i wanna be yours.

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathing in your dust

I wanna be your Ford Cortina

I will never rust

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

You call the shots, babe

I just wanna be yours

I wanna be your setting lotion

Hold your hair in deep devotion (I'll be)

At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean

Now I wanna be yours

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

you turned your head to him as the melody came to an end, finding him already looking down at you with a gentle smile, his eyes shining in the moonlight. it felt magical as everything else was compelty quite, feeling as if just you and him were in the world. you were sure your heart was running a mile as he brought his hand up to tuck your probably completely messy hair behind your ear, his palm sliding down to caress your cheek.

"i love you jimin" you sincerely spoke, voice not louder than a whisper as you stared into his eyes, a smile of love and adoration on your face. "i love you" he whispered back, eyes shining with the same amount of love and adoration as yours.

you smiled even wider after that, leaning in for a chasteful kiss, putting all your love into it. both of you pulled away to look into each other eyes again, giggling as neither of you wanted to look away.

"we should head to bed" jimin softly spoke, caressing your head as you see already half asleep on his chest. "hm? o-oh yeah" you mumbled, sitting up to carefully let him slip out of you, some more of his cum dripping into the already dirty water in the process. he helped you clean yourself real quick and cleaned himself too before getting out of the tub and lifting you out of it too.

it was a comfortable silence as he opened the door to his room to let some light shine in, both of you wrapped in fluffy towels as he let the water out of the tub and you blew out the candles.

after both of you had put on some clothes, you were cuddled up against each other in his bed, the clock on. his nightstand showing 3:47 am.

"good night baby" he whispered, kissing your forehead as you were already drifting into a deep and calm sleep in his hands, happy

✩!!as already mentioned in the top, feel free to leave requests for drabbles in my inbox!!✩

©kookssin 2023

#bts ff #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts jimin #bts fic #bts series #bts scenarios #bts au fic #bts fluff #bts angst #jimin smut #jimin aesthetic #jimin x you #jimin x oc #jimin x reader #park jimin imagine #bts imagines #jimin imagine

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muniimyg · 6 months

Text

𐙚₊˚⊹ best friend!jimin ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist request: closed

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @kekerrreke @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

jimin has always found you pretty.

the day you announced to be best friends with him, he quickly accepted his fate and pushed the idea of being with you aside. it didn't matter to him back then. he was just happy to be yours.

but it's different now.

after a long internship abroad, you've finally returned home. he picked you up from the airport and if he could live through the moment where your eyes met in the crowd again—he would.

it was the way your eyes lit up when he found yours.

it was the way he pushed through the crowd to reach for you again.

it was the way you smiled as he pulled you in by your waist, resting your chin on the crook of his neck, murmuring; "god, i missed you."

during the drive back to your place, he asks about your flight. to his dismay, you talk about something else.

someone else.

there's an unsure feeling that forms in the pit of his stomach. it could be jealousy. it probably is jealousy.

you tell jimin about the boy you met during your internship. how he treated you well in the beginning and even considered sleeping with him. how natural it was for you and the other guy to bond. jimin feels sick with every word about him that escapes your mouth. was he replaced? was that why you barely called? was that who you were with and posting in a soft-launch style? oh, his blood boils.

when you arrive at your place, jimin helps you carry your suitcases to your room. but before that, he greets everyone in your family. they waited for you too. they missed you too.

in your bedroom, you immediately fall to your bed. you take a deep breath and stare at the ceiling as jimin sets your suitcases aside. you pat the space beside you and jimin mimics your fall to join you. now, in the silence, you two let your thoughts consume you.

he should say he missed you. he should say he missed you more than you missed him. he should... say something, right? confess or whatever? he isn't sure. all he knows is that he's happy you're back and doesn't think he could do this again.

he can't be without you again.

"___, can i—"

"i think i'm over love," you sigh, turning to your side and facing him. you reach for his hair and play with a few strands. "he was so nice in the beginning. i thought i was going to bring him home and introduce you to him... but it didn't last. why doesn't it ever last?"

jimin's throat goes dry.

"feels like i went to hell and back with him," you admit. "was i always bound to be with guys like him? i've had enough. from here on out, i'm going to commit to the cat lady thing."

he laughs. "really, now? the cat thing? you're allergic."

you huff. "i'll replace you with yoongi. he's a cat. same shit."

jimin pouts.

you laugh and apologize.

"not all guys are like him, ___. you know that." he attempts to comfort you. "i'm not like that."

you smile and nod in agreement. "i know... it's just... what ever happened to love letters? to fresh flowers and picnics by the lake?"

jimin squints at you. "you hate the lake. you say the ground is too mushy and the ducks are scary."

you shrug. "i want to go on a row boat ride. like allie and noah from the notebook or something... you know? i want romance."

"knowing you... you'd fall into the water."

"well, then that's his cue to save me."

"what if he doesn't know how to swim?"

"then he's not the one."

a beat.

"i'm a good swimmer."

you blink at him.

before you can reply, jimin continues. "you seem to be flip-flopping between wanting to love and wanting to be loved. which is it, really?"

you think.

"both," you answer. "how romantic would it be if it was both?"

jimin doesn't answer you.

instead, he looks at you in a way you've never noticed he has. it makes your heart beat faster. it makes you forget to breathe in. you hiccup, he laughs, and suddenly you two feel at ease again.

then, he reaches for your hand.

gently, he intertwines your fingers together. you gulp, unsure if you should say something or move... you figure not to. instead, you lay there and stare at your ceiling. jimin does the same.

in a split moment, you hold your breath. you didn't expect this. neither did he. but it happens. he says something that changes everything between you two forever. from friends to lovers; in between is romance.

this moment is your in-between.

this is romance.

"to love and to be loved," jimin breathes, "... is to be with you."

#bts fanfic #jimin scenario #jimin friends to lovers #bts f2l #bts imagine #jimin imagine #jimin x oc #bts jimin x yn

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badbtssmut · 1 month

Note

Jimin and YN are models during a live painting class (you know the ones where they use people as models on the spot), the class is called "sexual anatomy 101" so they have to be basically fucking? i mean doing sex poses? but just posing (but he has his cock inside her), not moving so they are horny af , so as soon as the class is finished, they go at it like crazy (hehe do you get the reference???) while people are still packing up their things

Admin note: so so so sorry for the long wait anon ❤️ also “Students” are all adults!!

—

The students’ pens scribbled over the paper hastily, drawing out lines and shapes and colours over their easels. You and Jimin were surrounding by the artistic adults, who had signed up to do the Sexual Anatomy class. You were on all four, and Jimin was behind you, his cock deep into your pussy. Your fingers were intertwined together as you held the pose, waiting for the time to tick by.

Your body felt hot— today was the first time you were posing with Jimin, and you couldn’t help but notice how hot he was when you entered the room, and truthfully you couldn’t keep your eyes off him.

“Let’s wrap up, all.” The teacher clapped her hands, signalling the end of the class. You felt the students packing their things, and your body relaxed a bit as the teacher went around to look at their work.

“You know, we can stay like this.” You heard Jimin whisper.

“What do you mean?” You knew what he meant… but you needed to hear him say it.

He chuckled softly.

“You don’t think that…” His hips pressed up against yours, his cock going deeper. “I wouldn’t notice how soaking wet you are?”

You couldn’t deny that.

When the arts room was nearly empty, you felt his hips pull away from you, his cock slowly moving in and out. Jimin’s pace was slow and steady, making you feel every inch of his cock.

“Yes…” You whispered, closing your eyes as you lowered your upperbody, your ass up as he started to pick up the pace. “Wanted this cock the moment it was in…” You admitted.

His hands held your hips, pulling you back against him.

You were a moaning mess, as his cock hit every right spot.

“I knew I wanted this pussy the moment it took me in so well.” Jimin responded, eyeing how your ass bounced against his hips. “Fuck, nice ass.” He growled, and his hand spanked against your skin.

You yelped, surprised at the spank. But you liked it.

The last adult students were wrapping up and leaving the classroom.

Jimin didn’t care if they were watching or not, he was enjoying this way too much. His cock was already throbbing, wanting to reach his high.

“Right there…” You whimpered, at which Jimin leaned forward and wrapped his fingers around your throat, pulling your upper body back, your back now pressed against his chest.

“Take it.” Jimin groaned, his hips picking up the pace and fucking into you harder. Your pussy clenched around him and your hands held onto his firm forearm.

"Ah, ah, ah’” You nearly drooled at the sensation, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt him thrust harder.

The door of the room closed, the final adult student gone.

His fingers around your neck tightened, and your hips were pushing back, meeting his hard thrusts. Jimin fucked you so well, he made your body shake and then you came. Your mouth was open, trying to form words as your pussy clenched around his cock but you could only leave out a series of whines.

Jimin was groaning, feeling your pussy clench around him, riding out his errection on the waves of your orgasm, only halting when you stopped.

#bts smut #bts x reader #bts requests #bts smut requests #bts fanfic #bts smut fanfic #jimin x female reader #Jimin x yn #jimin x y/n #jimin x you #jimin x oc #jimin x reader #jimin x female

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kingofbodyrolls · 2 months

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Whalien52 (m) | pjm

you’ve been working for the New World Order as an assassin for years, guarding secrets without batting an eye or asking questions. But when a striking pink haired man shows up at the headquarters stealing information, he makes you question everything. With all of humanity at stake, what will you do?

→ Pairing: Jimin (kitty gang!jimin) x reader (female) → Genres/AUs: apocalyptic, survival, dystopian + angst, fluff and smut. → Tropes: strangers to lovers → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 10.6k → Warnings + triggers: changing povs (between reader and Jimin), action, weapons, guns and swords, blood (it’s not in extreme detail or anything, but blood is mentioned a few times), death (people are dying, but no important character dies!!!), wounds, shooting, self defense, m*rder in self defense, sickness (cancer due to radiation), mention of a cure and treatment for said cancer. Explicit smut in the form of unprotected sexy, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, degrading names, multiple orgasms, creampie, kissing. → Author’s note(1): okay, so I’ve been struggling a lot with this one too, lol. I miss writing sappy romance I think. This isn’t sappy, and I’ll hardly call it romance, well, it’s in there, but there’s honestly so much action in this one, compared to the Yoongi one. It’s also more fast paced, and shorter. I hope it’s alright! It was fun to write, even though I know nothing about writing action, I hope I did it well! And to everyone who’s scared or reluctant to read it because there’s angst and it’s kinda heavy/dark themed— IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING. There, I spoiled the ending for you 😇 + This story is a gift for my friend @remmykinsff! Thank you so much for sharing your Kitty gang Jimin folder with me, and letting me use you for motivation and inspiration to get out of my writer’s block 💜 → Read on AO3? [link]

[navi]*: end of the world // end of the world: a flickering hope // shower drabble // whalien52 // end of the world: epilogue *this story is technically a stand alone one-shot (and can be read just as is), but it is also a spin-off from another one-shot (that got a sequel, so a two-shot?). The characters and the story are the same, but the first two stories takes place before this one, and it’s with Yoongi x reader (not the same reader though).

It’s raining again. Lately, it’s always raining. The rain is everlasting, it seems, drenching the city in a ceaseless, oppressive downpour. The Capital is perpetually shrouded in darkness and gloom, a place where the sun is a distant memory. You’ve grown accustomed to it, ever since you were recruited by The New World Order to guard their secrets. You’ve been trapped in this godforsaken city ever since. Do you like it? Not really, but it’s a job that pays well. They give you a roof over your head and enough to survive—luxuries in this ravaged world.

You came from nothing, clawing your way up since the war began, fighting for every scrap of existence until The New World Order caught you. They gave you a choice: die or work for them. You chose to live, naively hoping that working for them wouldn’t be so bad. But it turns out, it can be quite bad. You’ve done unspeakable things to keep their secrets safe. You’ve killed for them, just as you had killed for yourself before they found you. Now, you don’t even flinch when you have to eliminate someone who gets too close to the truth. Part of you wonders what these secrets are, but you’re not interested. It’s just a job, nothing more.

Tonight is another shift. You head to the New World Order building, ready to patrol the city under the cover of darkness. First, you gear up: leather pants, a basic white shirt, and a black leather biker jacket. A belt around your waist for support, with a strap around your thigh that holsters your gun. A small knife is sheathed at your back, just in case.

You glance out the window. The world outside is as bleak as ever; night has fallen, and the rain taps a morose melody against the glass. You sigh, watching the neon signs flicker, casting a purple and blue glow that dances across your room. Grabbing your keys, you lock the door behind you and sprint down the stairs. This apartment is nothing special, but it’s a step up from the streets where you once lived before the war. It’s a small comfort in a world gone mad.

The rain soaks your skin, but you don’t bother with an umbrella. It’s just rain. You run down the dimly lit main street, the few wandering souls avoiding eye contact as they scurry to obey The New World Order’s curfew. Your boots splash through rain puddles on the unpaved, muddy road. It doesn’t take long to reach the towering New World Order building—its looming presence still sends a shiver down your spine, but you step inside anyway. Scanning your security card, you brace yourself for another night of duty.

You start your shift monitoring security cameras and patrolling the eerie hallways for any sign of suspicious activity. As you return to the front desk, you catch sight of a man attempting to bypass the card reader.

“What are you doing here?” you growl, your hand instinctively hovering near your gun.

The man fumbles with the machine, clearly lacking a security card. Desperation edges his voice as he yells, “I want the data that The New World Order is keeping from us!”

“You’re not getting that,” you reply coldly, assessing the intruder. He seems harmless, more frustrated than dangerous, so you relax, slightly.

“Do you even know what it is that you’re protecting?” he spits, abandoning his futile attempt to climb the machines as the alarm blares. The piercing sound echoes through the corridor, and you quickly pull out the phone issued by the New World Order to silence it.

“I don’t care what I’m protecting. You’ve got no business here. Now leave,” you say through gritted teeth.

“You shouldn’t be so blind to the secrets you’re safekeeping for them,” he hisses, making another hopeless attempt to scale the security machines.

His efforts are laughable, a pathetic display of defiance. A dark chuckle escapes your lips. “Leave, or I’ll shoot you.” This is his final warning. If he doesn't heed it, he’ll meet the cold, indifferent justice of your gun. So be it.

He freezes, uncertainty flickering in his eyes as he gauges your resolve. Your unwavering stare breaks his spirit, and he quivers in fear before backing off. Without a word, he turns and bolts, likely retracing his steps. Fool, you think, watching him flee.

The encounter leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s not the first to suggest you should question your work and the secrets you guard. Maybe you should. But you know the moment you do, you’re dead. You’ll lose everything you’ve achieved and everything you hold dear. That fear keeps you in place, and you reckon that’s the point of it all—the New World Order instills fear in everyone, ensuring their control remains absolute.

“Are you sure you’re okay to go in there alone?” Bora asks, her voice tinged with unease. It’s understandable—years of meticulous planning and reconnaissance are culminating in this moment. Whalien52 is about to attempt the impossible: stealing the cure for cancer that The New World Order keeps hidden away.

Jimin isn’t scared. He’s accustomed to these kinds of missions, though this will be his most significant one yet. A good kind of nervousness tingles through him, a mix of excitement and determination. “Yeah, Hobi’s done plenty of research. I know exactly which room to hit,” he says, flashing Bora a reassuring smile.

He gets why she’s scared. Bora and Yoongi have been through hell, and with both of them sick, finding the cure is personal. Yoongi’s condition has worsened over the years, a stark reminder of the injustice that The New World Order perpetuates by hoarding the cure while people die from radiation-induced cancers. The thought makes Jimin’s blood boil.

It’s this anger that led him to join Whalien52 after meeting Jungkook in the wasteland, a desolate remnant of what the bombings and wars left behind. The new government organization threatens to transform the remnants of humanity into a dystopian nightmare—if it hasn’t already.

Jimin thrives as an assassin, driven by a relentless quest for truth. The thrill, the chase, the stealth—it’s all part of the adrenaline rush he lives for. But beneath the excitement lies a deep-seated hatred for the rich elites who hid in their bomb-proof bunkers, safeguarding their technology, only to reemerge and rebuild a civilization for themselves amidst the ruins. Their swift reconstruction of the Capital stands as a bitter reminder of their enduring power.

The injustice has turned him bitter. It’s why he’s vowed to do everything in his power to change the world, to help Whalien52 make knowledge free and accessible to everyone, not just the rich. The gap between rich and poor has become a chasm, with only the vetted elite allowed to live in the Capital. The rest of humanity is left to fend for themselves, struggling for survival in a world that hopes they’ll destroy each other.

Jimin won’t stand for it. This mission isn’t just about stealing a cure, or getting data on possible treatment—it’s about justice, about leveling the playing field, about giving hope to those left in the dark. And he’ll see it through, no matter the cost.

Yoongi comes up to him, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m serious. You don’t have to do this for me,” he coughs, his voice so raspy it sounds like he’s been smoking forever.

Jimin places a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, his gaze shifting briefly to Bora before settling back on Yoongi. “We are doing this for you. But I’m also doing this for everyone else,” he begins, his voice thick with emotion and a glimmer of hope. “You’re not the only one suffering from cancer because of the radiation. We want to help everyone; we can’t just let people die.”

Yoongi flashes a soft smile and sits down to rest, the effort of standing too exhausting for him now. Jimin will do this for him, for Bora, and for the rest of humanity. He doesn’t mind risking his own life in the search for a cure—he might need one later himself.

“I’ll go get ready,” he says, turning away from Bora and Yoongi. He walks past Jungkook and Taehyung in the dimly lit hideout and heads into his room. He pulls on his leather pants, a white shirt, and then his favorite leather bomber jacket, adorned with pink, silver and purple sparkles. The jacket complements his pink fluffy hair perfectly. He retrieves his gun, tucking it into his back pocket—risky, he knows. Then he picks up his katana, swinging it over his back into its sheath. The sword, his preferred weapon, feels reassuringly familiar.

Now he’s ready. Ready to infiltrate the fortress of secrets and retrieve the cure. Ready to fight for a future where knowledge and healing aren’t hoarded by the few. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the mission ahead, a mission that could change everything in this dystopian nightmare they call life.

He says goodbye to everyone, hugging each of them tightly, aware that any moment could be his last. This mission is perilous, and while he has infiltrated The New World Order before without getting caught, this time is different. He will be venturing deeper into their stronghold than ever before.

After bidding farewell to his friends, Jimin strides outside to his motorcycle. The powerful machine, stolen from the Capital, gleams with a sleek, futuristic design. Its pale metal body has an industrial look, and its size dwarfs Jimin as he mounts it. Neon lights flicker to life as he revs the engine, the bike purring beneath him. With a flick of his wrist, he speeds towards the Capital, sand flying from the back wheel.

He knows he must be cautious once he enters the city. Stealth is crucial to avoid detection and successfully infiltrate The New World Order’s building. Failure means everything will have been for nothing.

The rain is endless, a perpetual downpour that defines the Capital. He doesn’t know why it always rains here, only that it does. The empty streets are illuminated by the neon signs adorning the various buildings, casting a colorful glow in the darkness.

He parks his motorcycle near the New World Order building, at the secluded back entrance where security is minimal. This is his best chance.

Taking a deep breath, he opens the door.

It’s all or nothing.

It’s getting late, and the monotony of patrolling the building is wearing you down. The nights are usually quiet, save for the occasional curious stranger trying to access the information you guard. You sigh and head back to the surveillance room, your eyes scanning the screens for anything unusual. Suddenly, you spot a figure moving on one of the monitors. A shot of adrenaline surges through you, breaking the dullness of the night.

The absence of triggered alarms tells you the intruder is a professional. No amateur could bypass the sophisticated security systems. The thought excites you, your heart rate spiking as you dash through the corridors, your hand hovering near your gun. You search each room hastily, growing more anxious with every empty space, until you reach the final room—the one that holds the most guarded secrets.

You pause outside the door, peeking in cautiously.

Inside, a well-defined man with pink, fluffy hair, leather pants, and a sparkly bomber jacket stands with his back to you, working at one of the computers. This is the information hub, where all vital data is stored. This is bad, but you have the element of surprise. Steadying your breath, you draw your gun and step into the doorway, your voice commanding, “Freeze!”

The man doesn’t freeze. Instead, you watch as he swiftly pulls a USB drive from the computer, moving with a grace that is almost dance-like. Before you can react, he glides across the floor and stands before you, a sword at your throat. A thrill of excitement runs through your body.

You stand still, a smile twisting on your lips, locked in a standoff with the pink-haired intruder. He’s chosen the wrong weapon to threaten you with. “You brought a sword to a gunfight?” you laugh, despite the blade pressing against your throat, your gun aimed at his chest. Who really has the upper hand here?

“Oh, I have a gun too,” he smirks, his voice sweet but laced with danger.

“What are you doing here?” you seethe, standing your ground.

“Getting information,” he replies matter-of-factly, not even breaking a sweat.

“You’re stealing. I can’t allow you to leave,” you spit, but he doesn’t flinch.

“Do you even know what kind of information you’re guarding?” he challenges, his words striking a chord. He’s not the first to ask you this today, and it makes you pause. “I know nothing, and I don’t care,” you respond after a moment’s thought.

“You really should,” he says, stepping closer until your gun is pressed against him. He doesn’t seem afraid, almost as if he’s an adrenaline junkie like you. But no, he’s not scared. He’s reckless. Your finger hovers near the trigger, but something makes you hesitate. You don’t know what it is, and you don’t like it.

His eyes, dark pools of obsidian, glint with amusement. He chuckles, and before you can react, his boot slams into your stomach, sending you sprawling to the cold, hard floor. Your gun slips from your grip, clattering away.

The man towers over you, his boot pressing down on your pussy, the katana poised at your throat, its cold blade grazing your skin. You raise your arms in a defensive pose, trapped and weaponless. He smirks, waving your gun tauntingly.

“You’re guarding information that can save humanity. What you’re doing is sick,” he spits, pressing his boot harder into you. Why does that feel hot? Why do tingles shoot through your body? Damn it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you growl back, genuinely confused. Your mind feels hazy with adrenaline and something else.

“The cure for cancer,” he snarls, his anger palpable.

Your eyes widen. The cure for cancer? You’ve heard whispers, but you didn’t know that’s what you were guarding. You know there’s treatment, but the New World Order has been hoarding those as well, making treatment inaccessible for the common people.

He presses his boot into you even more, a mix of pain and pleasure surging through your body.

“Oh my god. Are you getting turned on right now?” His voice drips with dark amusement, mocking you.

“Fuck no!” you yell, even as your body betrays you, responding to the pressure of his boot. You know you’re aroused, but you refuse to let him have the satisfaction of knowing that.

“I can smell you from here. There’s no point in lying,” he chuckles, lifting his boot from your crotch, though his sword remains at your throat.

You hate how observant he is, and you need to change the subject, to find a way out. You growl, “I’m not. And you’re not getting away. I don’t care if it’s the cure for cancer or whatever you’ve stolen.”

“I have my katana at your throat. I’m sure I’ll make it out just fine,” he replies, his dark chuckle sending shivers down your spine. “I’ve got what I came for,” he says, smirking down at you. “I’m flattered you’re turned on. Maybe if we met under different circumstances,” he adds, his eyes glinting with dark lust. “You should look into the secrets you’re guarding,” he says, withdrawing his katana and retreating, tossing your gun far out of reach.

You scramble to your feet as soon as he’s gone, snatching up your gun and bolting after him through the corridors. He’s silent, almost ghost-like, but you chase him nonetheless. He can’t leave with the vital information. The New World Order will have your head if they find out. You hear the click of a door—it’s the backdoor. You rush outside, the heavy rain stinging your face as the neon lights flicker on the deserted street. You catch sight of his motorcycle’s tail light disappearing into the rain.

Fuck.

As soon as he crosses the threshold between the Capital and the dystopian suburb, the rain ceases abruptly. He twists the throttle of his motorcycle, speeding through the desolate landscape back to the hideout. His heart pounds, but he doesn’t look back. He doubts he’s being followed.

The journey back is swift. As the hideout comes into view, he decelerates, parking his bike with a sense of triumph. He’s relieved not to return empty-handed and, more importantly, to have survived the mission. Reflecting on the encounter, a smirk forms on his face. You were easier to deceive than he anticipated. A part of him hopes to see you again, intrigued by your reaction to seeing him.

He wonders if he could sway you, make you see the truth about the secrets you’re guarding for The New World Order. Could he enlist you in his cause? The thought intrigues him, though he doubts it. You seemed too ignorant, too indifferent to the atrocities made by the regime.

The night is still young as he dismounts his bike and strides toward the door. It opens easily—unlocked, as usual. They really should lock it; you never know who might come by.

He’s greeted by a flurry of curious eyes as his friends jump up, their eagerness palpable. “Relax,” he gestures, “sit down.” Reaching into the pocket of his leather pants, he pulls out the USB drive. The tiny piece of tech holds the key to saving the world— the cure for cancer. Something they had all doubted, but had uncovered through relentless investigation, exposing the dark secrets of The New World Order.

He strides over to Namjoon, whose eyes glitter with excitement, his fingers itching to grasp the device and run an analysis. Jimin hands him the USB drive with a proud smile. “Here,” he says, “I hope everything’s on there. I was interrupted while pulling the data.”

“Thank you,” Namjoon responds, already heading into a back room, eager to delve into the contents.

Jimin collapses onto the spot Namjoon vacated, feeling the weight of their stares.

Bora clears her throat. “You said you were interrupted?”

“Ah, yeah,” he chuckles, revealing his crooked teeth. “A security guard. But she was easy to handle.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Yoongi grunts, his voice strained and raspy.

“It was,” Jimin shrugs, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. In truth, it had been almost too easy. He can’t shake the thought: had he overlooked something, or was fate simply on his side this time?

Jungkook’s questioning stare pierces through Jimin, but he doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t want to share how you made his blood boil with adrenaline and lust. He doesn’t even know your name, but you ignited something within him, a cocktail of emotions in mere moments. He’s both intrigued and captivated by you.

Time blurs as Jimin waits, lost in his thoughts until Namjoon reenters the living room. The look on Namjoon’s face is enough: it’s not the cure.

“This data isn’t complete,” Namjoon groans, frustration etched across his features as he waves the USB drive. He paces anxiously, “It has some information on cancer treatment, but the data on the cure is fragmented. Jin, can you take a look at it? All I see are molecules. I don’t know what to make of it,” he adds, his voice tinged with nervous laughter and defeat.

Jimin’s stomach sinks, a heavy weight of disappointment and anger settling in. He had hoped to secure all the needed information, but now they’re still unable to help Bora, Yoongi, and countless others suffering from the cancer that The New World Order likely caused. The thought sickens him. It wouldn’t surprise him if they were behind everything—the war, the slaughter of mankind. Sometimes it feels like The New World Order is playing a sick game of battle royale with the world’s population. People fight desperately, both for information and survival, in a world where information and treatment are hoarded like treasures.

Jimin’s mind races, thoughts swirling with the grim reality: when people are dying and sick, they become desperate, willing to do anything to stay alive. He feels a bitter mix of anger and sadness, questioning if he was delusional to think it would be easy to obtain the cure or even secure vital treatment information. The hope that things could change for the better feels like a distant dream.

Jin takes the USB drive, slipping it into his pocket, and gives Jimin a reassuring pat on the shoulder before heading to his patient and study room. Jimin feels a gnawing sense of inadequacy, berating himself for getting caught and distracted by you. He wonders if he should attempt to sneak back into the New World Order building, determined to obtain the missing data they desperately need.

“I’ll go back and see if I can get the remaining data in a few days,” he declares, his voice tinged with deflation but underpinned by a strong current of willpower. He can’t afford to fail again. The mission is too important, the stakes too high.

It’s been a few days since the pink-haired guy infiltrated the New World Order building undetected, slipping through your fingers like sand. The incident has left you feeling weird and anxious. You expected The New World Order to contact you, reprimand you, or worse, eliminate you. But there’s been nothing—no messages, no ominous visits. Maybe they don’t know about your slip-up yet? Or perhaps they’re biding their time.

Your phone, a sleek piece of tech courtesy of The New World Order, vibrates in your hand. You unlock it, and a text message glares back at you.

New World Order: Come to the headquarters in 15 minutes.

That’s all it says, nothing more, nothing less. You gulp, feeling your palms grow sweaty. This is it. This is how you die. Thrown off the tall building. You’ve heard stories, and they’re not nice. The tales of disappearances and silent executions run through your mind, making you shiver with nerves.

You lace up your boots with trembling hands, each loop a countdown to your potential demise. Trudging down the stairs of your dark apartment, you step into the rainy street. The city around you is a dismal sprawl of neon lights and shadows, a perfect reflection of your inner turmoil. You try to calm your racing heart, but it’s a futile effort. Every step feels heavier, every breath more labored as you make your way to the New World Order headquarters, fearing that this is the end.

You reach the New World Order headquarters, a monolith of cold steel and glass looming above the city. For a moment, you let the rain caress your face, cleansing you of your sins. Maybe they won’t mention anything? Clenching your fists, you walk into your workplace, passing through the security scanners, the impassive front desk, the sterile halls, and finally to the elevators. You step into one, the doors closing with a cold finality. The elevator ascends, a silent reminder of the 30 floors that separate you from potential death should you be pushed out. You close your eyes, banishing the thought.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open, revealing an amble-lit hallway adorned in red and gold. The color scheme feels both luxurious and ominous, a blend of future opulence and ancient dread. The red rug underfoot seems out of place, a relic amidst the high-tech surroundings. It suddenly hits you—it might be there to hide a certain color of liquid. No, you shouldn’t think about it. Nothing’s going to happen to you.

Each step down the hallway feels like walking through a graveyard at midnight, the silence thick and oppressive. Your breath quickens, your hand hovering over the handle of the door at the end. This is it. Just get it over with.

With sweaty hands, you push open the door and step inside. A tall man in a black suit stands with his back to you, staring out of the tall windows. The view overlooks the bleak, rainy city, a desolate wasteland stretching to the horizon. The room is deathly silent, save for the patter of rain against the glass. You feel a shiver run down your spine.

He doesn’t turn to acknowledge you, his presence as cold and unyielding as the cityscape beyond. You gulp, your heart pounding in your chest, waiting for him to speak, waiting for your fate to be decided.

You clear your throat, the sound echoing in the tension-filled room. The man’s attention snaps to you, and he turns on his heels with a sinister smile. “Y/N!”

The way he says your name sends shivers down your spine, raising the hairs on your body. An urge to flee or jump out of the window floods your senses, but you force yourself to steady your resolve.

You recognize him as the head of the organization, though his name remains a mystery, like everyone else’s in this godforsaken place. Faces are familiar, but names are a dangerous luxury.

“Glad you could make it. Take a seat,” he gestures to the chair in front of his imposing wooden desk, an artifact of richness you could never dream of affording.

You gulp, a slight ringing in your ears accompanying your erratic heartbeat. Your palms are slick with sweat as you move to sit down.

“Nervous?” he asks, his voice calm and commanding as he paces the room.

“Yes,” you manage to say, gulping again as you track his movements.

“Good,” he replies, looking down at you with a predatory glint in his eye.

“I saw the surveillance footage from the break-in a few days ago,” he begins, his eyes boring into you with an unsettling intensity. Fear knots in your stomach, paralyzing your muscles as you brace yourself for whatever comes next. You remain silent, too scared to speak, knowing that he already knows everything that happened.

“You’ve gone soft. If this happens again, shoot the intruder, or you’ll be the one staring down the barrel of a gun,” he says, his voice sharp and precise, each word like a blade against your throat. A chill runs through you, and you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. You’ve messed up, but somehow he’s letting you off with a warning—something you didn’t expect. A small part of you dares to breathe a little easier.

“Now leave before I change my mind,” he hisses. You flinch, your body reacting instinctively as you rush to the door. Bowing quickly, you slip out without a word. Outside, you realize you’ve been holding your breath and you gasp for air, your hands trembling.

You know you have to do your job better if you want to survive. The threat lingers in your mind, and you can’t help but wonder about the secrets you’re guarding. What could be so important? Maybe it’s time to investigate—time to find out if this job is truly worth risking your life for.

Your boss won’t find out, right? You gulp, pushing the thought away. You need to know. You’ve done your job blindly for so long, but the time has come to uncover the truth. You know the higher-ups won’t give you any information, even if you asked, which is why you find yourself downstairs in the control room.

You locate the computer you usually use, turn it on, and log into the company drive. Your fingers tremble as you navigate through multiple folders, delving deeper into the rabbit hole. You uncover information you never imagined existed. Details about how and why the war started shock you—who knew a failed peace treaty could lead to such global devastation? The realization hits you hard: the war was actually orchestrated by a few countries aiming to seize power when the peace treaty collapsed. Those people now form The New World Order. A chill runs down your spine.

You stumble upon a folder detailing the side effects of radiation, studies on various cancer treatments, and ultimately, a cure for cancer. Disbelief floods your mind as you stare at the words on the screen. You blink, hoping the text will change, but it remains. The next document reveals their sinister plan: to keep this life-saving information hidden, ensuring only the rich survive while letting the rest of humanity rot and die.

This is what the pink-haired man wanted you to know. Regret and anger churn in your gut—you should have listened, should have questioned everything from the start. You feel sick, overwhelmed by the weight of the truth. You close the computer, resolve hardening within you.

As you leave the control room and head home, your mind swirls with thoughts. You need to figure out what to do with this explosive information before your shift tonight. The rain continues to fall, each drop a reminder of the world’s decay. You realize now that your role in The New World Order’s scheme is far more sinister than you ever imagined.

Jimin has to obtain the missing piece of data his group needs for the cure for cancer, or at least information to develop new treatments. Ever since the war started, all research and treatment for cancer have been inaccessible. Late at night, at their hideout far from the Capital, Jimin prepares for his mission. He looks at Bora and Yoongi—Yoongi, in particular, has deteriorated, and Jimin fears he doesn’t have much time left. The urgency gnaws at him; failure is not an option.

He doesn’t know whether he hopes to meet you at the New World Order headquarters or not. The thought of you makes his heart race, but he knows that if you get in his way, his mission might fail. He sighs, waving goodbye to the group, then steps outside. The night is oppressive, the air thick with the scent of decay and rain. He puts on his helmet, the world narrowing to the visor’s view, and straddles his bike. The engine roars to life, vibrating through him, merging with the adrenaline surging in his veins.

It’s now or never.

He twists the accelerator, the bike surging forward into the darkness, toward the lifeless, desolate Capital. The neon lights flicker ominously as he speeds into enemy territory, a lone figure against the backdrop of a crumbling dystopia.

The room is dark—just the way you prefer it. Your eyes, adept at seeing through the gloom, catch every detail, including the pink-haired intruder hunched over a computer terminal, stealing vital information from your employer. Silently, you watch him, observing his methodical movements as he navigates the screen. The monitor casts a ghostly blue light, making his hair shimmer with a surreal purple hue. You can’t deny he looks striking.

Tonight, you decide not to intervene. After your own clandestine investigation into your employer, you understand why he’s after the data—why so many risk everything to steal it. The New World Order’s secrets are dark and twisted, and the pink-haired man’s quest suddenly seems justified.

Minutes tick by in silence, the intruder’s focus unbroken. His sparkly bomber jacket gleams faintly in the dim light. Finally, he seems satisfied, pulling a USB drive from the terminal. The moment he turns around, you flick on the lights.

Yellow fluorescent tubes flicker to life, bathing the room in a harsh, sickly glow. He freezes, one hand instinctively hovering over the katana strapped to his back, the other gripping the USB drive.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you smirk, leaning casually against the wall by the exit, blocking his escape.

He hisses, scanning you up and down before his features relax into a smirk. “Where’s your gun? Aren’t you gonna try to stop me again, pretty?”

Your eyes sparkle at the compliment, much like his jacket, and you chuckle softly. “Nah,” you shrug, but straighten your posture, exuding confidence.

He quirks an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Why?”

You take in his appearance—black leather pants hugging his thick thighs, lace-up military boots, and that unmistakable sparkly bomber jacket. With a soft, yet sultry smile, you reply, “I finally opened my eyes to what’s really going on. What’s truly been happening, and I don’t like it one bit.”

His shoulders relax further, and his hands withdraw from the katana and the gun stashed behind his back. He eyes you with a mixture of caution and intrigue, seemingly pleased by your revelation.

“So, you’re just gonna let me go?” he asks, ensuring he hasn’t misheard.

“Yeah. But actually…” you begin, drawing out your words to capture his attention as you step closer, batting your eyes at him. “I have more information back at my apartment that you might want to see. I can take you there. Show you.”

You can’t help the way your body responds to him—you want him, and you want him bad. It’s true, you do have valuable information at your place, but your ulterior motives are undeniable. The risk is immense. The moment you make this move, you’ll become a wanted criminal, hunted by the New World Order. But the thought of remaining complicit in their schemes sickens you. You crave freedom, and he might just be the key to it.

For a flicker of a second, you catch him stuttering, but he quickly collects himself, smirking back at you. His pink tongue darts out to wet his lips in a teasing move, and you feel a tingle between your legs.

“Let’s go then,” he says, brushing past you and out the door. You follow closely, aware of the cameras tracking your every move, but you don't care. Time is short; the New World Order will come after you soon, so you need to be quick.

The pink-haired man leads the way through the dim, familiar halls to the back door. The green emergency light flickers ominously overhead. He pushes the door open, and the bleak night greets you with flickering neon lights. His sleek silver bike stands nearby. As you approach, he hands you his helmet and lets you straddle his bike, taking the place behind you. His body presses close against your back, and a surge of arousal courses through you.

You turn the bike on, and it roars to life. With a swift movement, you speed through the empty, rain-soaked streets back to your apartment. His arms wrap securely around your torso, and it feels nice. His head rests against your shoulder, and you catch a whiff of his scent—like fresh cotton on a summer's breeze, something you haven’t smelled in a long time. You long for it.

It doesn’t take long to reach your apartment. You turn off the bike, parking it out of sight from prying eyes. He gets off first, then you remove the helmet and jump down. Neither of you speaks as you walk up the stairs to your first-floor apartment. You quickly unlock the door and push into your dark space. The lights are off, and the place is messy with clothes strewn about, but you don't care. The apartment is a tiny one-bedroom, an open space where the kitchen, living room, and bedroom blend together. It’s small, but it’s home.

“Welcome,” you whisper, closing the door behind you, sealing both of you in a cocoon of secrecy and danger.

The tension between you feels thick as you make your way inside, heading straight to your desk and rummaging for the flash drive you’ve hidden. The man’s eyes follow your every move as you open a drawer and pull out the drive, smirking as you wave it in the air. “This has more information on it that I think you’ll need.”

He stalks closer, his smirk widening. In the minimal light, he seems even more predatory than before. The look in his eyes suggests he wants to devour you right then and there.

“What’s in it for you?” he asks, standing mere millimeters from you, your noses almost touching. His warm breath fans your ear and neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“Take me with you,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. His eyes roam your body, lingering on your eyes, cheeks, nose, lips, and collarbone.

“Hmm,” he hums, his hands landing on your hips. You feel the warmth of his fingers through your leather pants.

Your breath quickens, and you feel like you’re crumbling beneath his stare, utterly aroused for this man whose name you still don’t know. The mixture of arousal and adrenaline makes you feel almost high.

You close the gap between you and kiss him. It’s quick and needy, and he responds immediately, pressing his body hungrily into yours, his fingers digging into the bare skin of your waist above your pants. His lips are soft, but his moves are hard and hungry.

He moves his lips to your ear, kissing and licking it, then trailing down to your neck. He marks it with his teeth, eliciting a needy moan from you. The world outside your darkened apartment fades away, leaving only the desperate, electric connection between you.

“You’re really something,” he pants into your ear, his breath sending tingles down your spine and all the way to your core. “I want to taste you, and I don’t even know your name.”

You chuckle, the sound strained and laden with lust. “It’s Y/N,” you manage between pants. “What’s yours?”

“I’m Jimin,” he murmurs, his tongue tracing your neck before biting gently.

Fuck.

“I want you, Jimin,” you groan as he pulls back slightly, his pupils blown wide with desire.

“But we don’t have much time,” you say breathlessly, the urgency of your situation seeping into your voice. “The New World Order will be looking for me soon.” You fumble with your pants, dragging them and your panties down to expose yourself to the cool air of the apartment.

In one fluid motion, Jimin drops to his knees, looking up at you with a teasing lick of his lips. “No worries, I can be quick.” Without another word, he dives in, his mouth sealing around your wet heat.

You gasp his name, your legs turning to jelly as your hands find purchase in his pink locks. His tongue is relentless, strong and skilled as it laps over your clit and teases your entrance. The obscene noises he makes against you only heighten your arousal, your breathing growing shallow as you lose yourself in the sensation.

Your back meets the wall, and you do your best to hold yourself up as he devours you from the floor. His mouth works you expertly, sucking and licking, driving you closer to the edge. The coil in your stomach tightens, your body trembling with the impending climax.

Jimin grunts into your cunt, his teeth grazing your clit, and the world shatters around you. He sucks hard, creating a perfect seal around your sensitive nub, and the coil in your stomach snaps. You come undone on his tongue, panting furiously as waves of pleasure wash over you.

Even as you orgasm, he doesn’t stop, his tongue continuing its assault, his nose pressing against your clit. You grab his hair, trying to pull him away as your sensitivity peaks, but he holds you there, pushing you to the brink of overstimulation and back into the abyss of pleasure.

His face glistens with your slick, and you think he looks beautiful, so you grab his sharp jaw and pull him up for a kiss. You don’t care that you taste yourself on his plush lips.

You break away and say, “I really want to return the favor,” your hands toying with his pants as you brush against his already erect dick.

He pushes your hand away gently. “It’s okay. You said to be quick, so you can do that another time.” He kisses you again, trailing down to the other side of your neck, then up to the shell of your ear. “I really just want to fuck you now.”

You’re drenched, dripping with arousal. His words render you speechless; you bite your bottom lip and nod, anticipation coursing through you.

The sound of his zipper sends a thrill down your spine as he opens his pants. He drags his boxers down, and his cock springs free. It’s thick and of an average length, and the sight makes you salivate. You wish you had time to take him into your mouth, but that’s a pleasure for another time, like he promised.

The head of his cock is red, with a bead of precum at the tip. It looks beautiful, and your pussy clenches around the emptiness, eager to be filled. You can’t wait to have him stretch you, it’s been so long since you’ve had sex. It’s honestly been years, and as you realize this, you think he should have prepared you more. But you don’t get to mull over it for long; you feel the tip of his cock against your folds, and in one fluid motion, he pushes inside you.

You moan his name as he grabs both of your legs and wraps them around his waist, driving himself deeper into you. You feel so fucking full, it’s delicious.

“Fuck. I forgot about a condom,” he pants, slamming you hard against the wall. He stays inside for a moment before beginning a relentless rhythm of thrusts.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, “I’m clean, and I can’t get pregnant.”

He just grunts in your ear, then starts nibbling on it. The pace he sets is quick, hard, and dirty—unforgiving. But you don’t mind; you're pressed for time anyway. The pleasure is intense, and the way he growls into your ear makes the knot form in your stomach again.

“You’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you?” he growls, thrusting hard and deep. “You wanted this right from the start, didn’t you?” His voice is low, dangerously so, making you even wetter because he’s so right.

“Such a fucking slut for cock,” he pants, his tongue trailing along your neck. “No one in this godforsaken city to satisfy your needy pussy.”

You clench around him, your hands gripping his shoulders, fingers digging into the back of his sparkly jacket.

“Fuck. You’re so tight,” he groans, his hips working overtime to pleasure you, and your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

“Are you gonna come?” he asks, a wicked glint in his eyes.

You moan in response, releasing a wave of liquid around his cock, making the glide even smoother.

“Fuck. You’re gorgeous,” he says, licking your neck again. “I’m gonna come too.”

With a rapid burst of thrusts, he spills his warm seed inside your still-pulsating pussy. For a moment, you rest your foreheads together, panting for air. Your legs remain wrapped around his waist as he hungrily kisses your lips.

You feel a mixture of your essences trailing out of you, pooling on the floor or your panties—you don’t really care.

As you struggle to steady your breathing and rapid heartbeat, a pounding on your door shatters the moment. It's not gentle—it’s hard and oppressive, sending a terrible shiver down your spine. The New World Order. Your mind turns razor-sharp, senses heightened. Jimin quickly softens inside you, then pulls out, your legs falling to the floor, dripping semen as he pulls up his pants and grabs his gun and the hard drive.

You do the same, hastily pulling up your pants as the banging continues. The door handle rattles, but it doesn't open. Thank fuck you locked it.

“We have to leave,” you pant, your heart in your throat. You fumble for your phone, then throw it into your room—you don’t need it; they can track you with that.

“No shit,” he grunts, running a hand through his disheveled pink hair.

“We gotta jump out the window,” you say, fear in your eyes. You know it’s only a matter of time before they break down the door.

You grab Jimin’s hand and pull him to the window beside your bed. Thankful that you live on the first floor, you make the jump first, landing on the dirty ground. Jimin follows, landing more gracefully. You hear the brute force of the door breaking, and you startle, fear coursing through you. But Jimin is quick, pulling you to his bike, shoving his helmet onto your head. He straddles the bike, and without much thought, you climb on behind him.

You lean against him, feeling the rapid beating of your heart. He turns on the bike, and you hear shouting and gunshots from your apartment as Jimin speeds down the rain-soaked streets. You lay your head against his back, closing your eyes against the chaos behind you.

Jimin parks his bike in front of the Whalien 52 headquarters, and you dismount first, removing the helmet and handing it to him. He follows suit, and you both stride into the building. It’s well past midnight now, and as you walk into the headquarters with Jimin, all eyes turn toward you. The tension in the room is palpable; they’ve likely been anxiously awaiting his safe return.

“Hi,” he says casually, plopping onto the couch with a soft thud.

“Who’s this?” Taehyung strides up, pointing at you with a raised brow.

“Oh, that’s Y/N. The woman who got in my way last time,” Jimin shrugs as if this is information everyone should already know.

“So you decided to take her home?” Taehyung asks in disbelief.

“I helped him gain extra information. And I want out of the New World Order,” you say, crossing your arms, not flinching under their scrutinizing stares.

“You’re the enemy though,” Yoongi joins the conversation, his voice strained with a cough.

“She really isn’t. Do you even know how much she’s risked just by coming here?” Jimin retorts, defending you without fully understanding why. He knows you can defend yourself just fine.

“I have a target on my back now. So I want to help you guys. Make things right in the world. That’s what you want to do, right?” you ask, scanning the open living room space.

The room falls silent, the weight of your words sinking in. The dim, flickering lights cast long shadows, amplifying the room’s tension. Each member of the group seems to wrestle with their thoughts, eyes flicking between you and Jimin. Finally, Seokjin steps forward, his gaze steady and thoughtful.

Seokjin approaches Jimin with an intense gaze. “Did you get all the data?”

Jimin nods silently and hands over both the USB drive and the flash drive you gave him in your apartment. Seokjin’s eyes light up with a rare glimmer of hope as he takes the hardware and retreats to his makeshift lab.

You slump down beside Jimin, exhaustion finally catching up with you. Jungkook steps forward, extending a hand. “Welcome to Whalien52, Y/N.”

You shake his hand, offering a tired smile, then lean back against Jimin. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you both allow yourselves a moment of rest. But Jimin’s mind races with concern. How quickly will the New World Order track you down? Did they follow you here?

Time becomes a blur in the dimly lit room. You drift off to sleep on Jimin’s shoulder, and his eyelids grow heavy as well. Just as he’s about to succumb to slumber, Seokjin bursts into the room, a triumphant smile lighting up his face.

“I’ve sequenced a cure from the data,” he announces, his voice brimming with joy. “And treatments for various cancers too.”

The room erupts in cheers and laughter, a collective sigh of relief and celebration filling the air.

“I’m preparing the cure for Yoongi and Bora now,” Seokjin adds, his pride evident.

Jimin feels a surge of relief and accomplishment. They’ve finally done it. You’ve secured the cure for cancer. Now Yoongi and Bora can be saved. And perhaps, just perhaps, they can save the rest of civilization. But first, they have to deal with the looming threat of the New World Order.

The battle is far from over.

It’s been a few days, and the absence of the New World Order’s presence is unnerving. You expected them to chase you and Jimin out of the city, but they haven’t. This silence feels ominous, a dark cloud hanging over your newfound sanctuary.

You’ve settled into the daily routines of Whalien52, where hope and caution dance a tense waltz. Seokjin tirelessly crafts cures and treatments. Yoongi and Bora, the first recipients, show promising signs of recovery, their improvements a beacon of hope amidst the uncertainty. The group celebrates these small victories, buzzing with a cautious optimism that almost feels too good to be true.

In these days of uneasy peace, you’ve found roles within the group. Namjoon introduced you to his intricate tech—ingenious weapons and machines designed for survival. Taehyung showed you around the small town that Whalien52 calls home. On the horizon, the Capital looms like a dark sentinel, a constant reminder of the lurking threat.

Despite the calm surface, the air is thick with anxiety. The lack of action from the New World Order feels wrong. Yoongi polishes weapons with a grim focus, and you’ve all had tense conversations about the impending attack you’re sure is coming. Jungkook echoes your concerns, insisting on readiness.

Hoseok monitors the New World Order’s communications, but all he gets is an unsettling silence. This lack of intel twists your stomach into knots. Each passing day, the tension ratchets up. The quiet eats at you, turning every creak and rustle into a potential threat.

Weeks pass, and the tension in the headquarters is palpable. You’re all on edge, constantly looking over your shoulders. Every sound is magnified, each one making you jump, hearts racing with the fear that the New World Order has finally come for you.

Everyone is exhausted, sleep deprived and on edge, each day a relentless battle against the looming threat of the New World Order. You long for an end to this tense limbo, for the chance to truly rest.

Yoongi’s condition has worsened, and Seokjin’s latest research scatters your fragile hopes. “This isn’t a cure,” he admits, deflated. “It’s just a temporary fix, a treatment.”

Yoongi coughs weakly but manages a smile, hugging his girlfriend Bora tightly. “But it helps,” he says softly. “A cure was always a dream. There’s never been a real cure for cancer, and maybe there never will be.”

Bora kisses his forehead, her eyes glistening with determination. “The treatment is helping,” she insists, caressing his cheeks. “Maybe Seokjin can alter it, make it better, stronger?” She turns to Seokjin, who nods, already lost in thought, considering how to enhance the treatment. You all want to help, driven by a fierce collective will to save Yoongi.

You walk over to Jimin, giving him a soft kiss, seeking a moment of solace. Suddenly, the sharp crack of a gunshot shatters the room. Bora screams in pain, and chaos erupts. You all drop to the floor, hearts pounding in sheer panic. For a moment, there’s an eerie silence, broken only by Bora’s agonized cries. You can’t see her or Yoongi, shielded by the couch.

Frantically, you search for Jimin, and his hand finds yours, squeezing tightly. The connection is a lifeline, a brief reassurance amidst the terror.

More gunshots pierce the air, and you hold your breath, praying Bora is alright. Your heart races, the reality sinking in: the New World Order is here, ready to kill you all.

With steely resolve, you clench your free hand, feeling the cold metal of your holstered gun against your thigh.

It’s time.

Time to make a stand.

Time to fight back.

You look at Jimin, your eyes wide with panic as your heart pounds in your ears. He army crawls to your weapon stash, grabbing an arsenal: a rifle he slides over to Yoongi, a gun for himself, and his sword, which he straps on while still lying on the floor. Jungkook, with his tattooed hand, clutches a rifle down his length of his body. You scan the room for Seokjin, Taehyung, and Hoseok, but they’re nowhere to be seen.

Bora’s screams have diminished to grunts of pain. Yoongi drags her towards Seokjin’s room, leaving a trail of blood. An eerie silence falls as you watch them. You hear Yoongi's voice from Seokjin’s room, explaining that Bora’s wound is a flesh wound, pleading for Seokjin to take care of her. Yoongi crawls back into the living room.

“Is Bora okay?” you ask, sweat beading on your hairline, your breathing quick and shallow.

“Yeah. Seokjin’s got her. Namjoon, Tae, and Hobi are in there too,” Yoongi grits his teeth, his face pale with anger.

Jungkook crawls over to join you, “I guess it’s the New World Order knocking down our doors.”

“We have to fight back. Or die trying,” Yoongi spits, his anger palpable. “I’m sick and tired of them. We need to overthrow them,” he says, his eyes bloodshot from sleepless nights. You’re all on high alert, fighting for your lives.

The door bursts open, a harsh light from outside flooding in as heavy boots stomp on the floor. You count six people by the rhythm of their steps and then a seventh, moving slowly and deliberately. Ominous, and just by the sound of the boots, you know who it is—the leader.

A cold shiver runs down your spine as your fingers curl around the trigger of your gun. The footsteps grow louder, the moment drawing closer. You roll onto your back, raising your gun for the inevitable confrontation.

Suddenly, you’re yanked by your legs, sliding across the floor with a yell, losing your grip on Jimin’s hand. The leader looms over you, a shadow of dread, as you prepare to fight for your life.

“Well, well. What have we here? Y/N. Nice to see you,” the man sneers, his voice dripping with mockery. You don’t know his name, but you remember him all too well—the leader of the New World Order, the man who had last spoken to you in his office after Jimin’s initial attempt to steal information from your former employer.

You gulp, pointing your gun at him.

He tuts dismissively, “You know that’s useless,” and with a swift kick, he sends your gun skidding across the floor.

“You’ve been a bad, bad girl,” he hisses, his hands casually resting in his pockets while his men, guns trained on you, stand menacingly behind him.

“What you’re doing is sick,” you fume, anger bubbling within you.

Suddenly, Jimin rises, his gun aimed directly at the man before you.

Recognition flickers in the leader’s eyes, “Ah,” he chuckles darkly, “so this is the man you left me for.”

Jimin grunts, “Hands off her.”

“Protective, huh?” he laughs, a cold, mechanical sound that sends chills down your spine.

Your eyes dart between Jimin and the leader, anxiety tightening your chest. You don’t know who will be quicker on the trigger. You hold your breath, terrified for Jimin’s safety. Your heart pounds so loudly it nearly deafens you.

A gunshot echoes through the room, followed by a heavy thud. Your heart sinks as you see the leader still standing. Fear grips you, paralyzing you from turning around to check on Jimin. You feel a scream or a sob rising in your throat, maybe both.

Then, you hear the sound of someone standing up and Yoongi’s voice cuts through the tension, “You are one sick bastard. Keeping vital information to yourself, letting people die of cancer and radiation.” His voice is thick with anger and disdain.

The leader turns his attention to Yoongi and chuckles again, a sound you’ve come to loathe. “Only the elite deserve to live. I don’t mind letting people die to create the perfect world.”

You scoff, the revelation of his twisted ideology making you nauseous. The horror of being part of such a sick scheme churns in your stomach.

As you try to glance over your shoulder to see Jimin, one of the leader’s men grabs you, yanking you into a sitting position. Panic surges through you, but determination hardens your resolve. It’s time to fight back, no matter the cost.

Finally, you spot Jimin lying on the floor. There’s no blood, thankfully, and his hand is giving you a thumbs up. Relief floods your body, momentarily pushing back the fear.

“You are so sick,” Yoongi spits, his voice a raw edge. “You killed so many people, for what? Utopia?”

Your old boss nods, chuckling darkly. “Too much freedom breeds murder and chaos. I needed a clean slate,” he shrugs, strolling past you towards Yoongi, who keeps his rifle trained on him. “People need order. Someone to follow. When the weak and poor have died off, I’ll guide the rest into a New World Order.”

Yoongi spits on the floor, “Over my fucking dead body.” His index finger twitches towards the trigger, his stance solid and ready.

You stop breathing.

Yoongi fires, but your old boss is faster, landing a shot in Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi hisses, dropping the rifle to the floor.

“I told you it’s useless,” your old boss sneers, chuckling. “Next time I’ll aim for the head.”

Time stretches and warps as he paces the room, taking stock of you all. You’re at a standstill, trapped in the crosshairs of his malevolent gaze. Jimin remains prone, waiting for an opportunity. Yoongi grunts in pain, clutching his wounded shoulder. Jungkook lies still, eyes flicking between you and the leader.

It feels like game over.

You’re all going to die.

Your old boss paces slowly, chuckling, reveling in your predicament. “I wonder who I should kill first…” he muses, dragging out the words as he turns towards you. “Your boyfriend, maybe? How do you feel about watching him die?”

Your heart pounds wildly.

You struggle against the grip of the man holding you by your hair, pain searing through your scalp, but the thought of Jimin’s death is unbearable.

The leader strides towards Jimin, raising his gun. Your breath catches in your throat, terror gripping you as you watch. You scream with all the force in your lungs, a primal sound tearing through the air as you close your eyes, bracing for the worst.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The sound of three gunshots fills your ears, and you scream even louder, tears streaming down your cheeks as you call out your lover’s name. More gunshots follow, and the man holding your hair lets go, dropping you to the wooden floor with a heavy thud. Tears blur your vision as you struggle to blink them away, desperate to find Jimin.

But you don’t see him.

Panic surges through you. Where is he?

Your gaze shifts, and you see your old boss, his head snapped back from a point-blank shot, blood pooling beneath him. You gasp, turning your head just in time to see familiar lace-up boots moving purposefully across the room. Chaos reigns. Bora stands in the hallway, a rifle trained on the lifeless body of your boss. She was the one who shot him?

Jimin moves through the room like a lethal dancer, his katana slicing through enemies with precision. Jungkook is on his feet too, methodically picking off the men from the New World Order. Amid the chaos, you see Bora approach Yoongi, who is clutching his shoulder.

“Are you okay, babe?” she asks, her voice strained but determined as she examines his injury.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he pants, noting the bandage on her thigh, stained with blood. “You should lie down.”

“I could say the same to you,” she chuckles, raising her rifle to take aim at another man.

How many are down now? You scan the room, counting seven bodies sprawled on the floor.

“Is it over?” Seokjin calls out, peeking from his room down the hall.

“I think so,” Jungkook replies, clapping his hands together, trying to shake off the tension.

The room falls into a tense silence, the aftermath of the battle settling over you like a shroud. You push yourself up, your body aching and adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Jimin meets your gaze, and you feel a flicker of hope amidst the wreckage.

For now, you’ve survived.

You rush over to Jimin, pulling him into a tight embrace, relief flooding through you. “I’m okay, babe,” he murmurs, kissing you softly. Thank God.

“We need to take the fight to their headquarters. They’ll be coming for us anyway. Better to surprise them,” Yoongi declares, his voice grim.

“Don’t you think they’d anticipate that?” Jungkook counters, eyeing Yoongi critically. “And you’re in no condition to fight, hyung.”

“The fuck I’m not. It’s just my shoulder. I’m fine,” Yoongi pants, picking up his rifle.

“Let’s go,” Bora interjects from behind Yoongi, her voice determined.

Yoongi spins around, his mouth agape. “You’re staying, babe. Your leg—”

“This is as much my fight as it is yours, and Seokjin patched me up,” she retorts, her stern look brooking no argument. Yoongi deflates, conceding to her resolve.

You all huddle together, gathering weapons for the imminent battle. Taehyung, Namjoon, and Seokjin stay back, while the rest of you head outside to your vehicles.

You and Jimin mount his bike, while Jungkook, Yoongi, and Bora take the car. Jimin hands you a helmet, then puts on his own before revving the engine. The bike purrs to life, and with a roar, he accelerates toward the Capital, Jungkook and the others following in the car.

The journey is a blur, the rain pouring down in relentless sheets as you navigate the desolate streets. The Capital looms ahead, a monolithic reminder of the oppressive regime you’re up against. You skid to a stop in front of the New World Order headquarters, jumping off the bike with Jimin close behind. Jungkook, Yoongi, and Bora emerge from the car, weapons in hand, steely determination etched on their faces.

The rain-soaked mud reflects the harsh glow of neon lights, casting eerie shadows as you steel yourselves for the fight. The headquarters stands ominously before you, a fortress of tyranny that has caused so much suffering. You take a deep breath, fingers tightening around your gun.

It’s time to end this.

“Follow me. The building is massive,” you say, leading the way into your old workplace. Navigating the familiar lower floors is swift; they’re almost deserted. Jimin dances with his katana, each swing mesmerizing, cutting down any opposition with ease.

Clearing the lower levels quickly, you ascend the stairs, banging open doors and moving through the less familiar upper halls. The men from the New World Order fall easily; many surrender, unwilling to defend a crumbling regime.

Finally, you reach the top floor, the office of your now-dead boss. Stepping inside, you look out through the tall windows overlooking the city.

“What do we do now?” you ask, your voice echoing in the silence.

The horizon flickers with a strange yellow glow.

Jimin, his katana sheathed on his back, joins you. “Is that the sun?” he asks, his eyes following yours.

“I think it is,” Bora says, intertwining her fingers with Yoongi’s.

“Now that the New World Order is gone,” Yoongi muses, “won’t another group try to take its place?”

“Maybe,” you respond, lost in thought.

Jungkook chuckles beside you. “We’ll make sure no one does. All information will be free and accessible.”

“Aren’t we just like the New World Order then?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow.

“No,” Jungkook replies firmly. “We’ll let people live freely, with no ‘order’ imposed.”

You all hum in agreement, turning your gaze to the horizon. For the first time in a long while, the oppressive clouds of the Capital part, slowly revealing the sun. The relentless rain stops, and you feel the air shift—this is a new beginning.

→ Taglist: @jeonsbabygirlsworld @11thenightwemet11 @haru-jiminn → Disclaimer: the photo of kitty gang Jimin is a concert photo by a fansite, and I’ve been trying to reverse google search the image to find the fansite/photographer, but without luck. I can see on the original that the fansite name is something along the lines of ‘CelestialYM9999’ but that show on results on google either. If you know the fansite, please let me know so I can credit properly (my photography brain really wants to give proper credit). → Author’s note(2): what do you think? Please let me know! A big shoutout and thank you to @manipulatedstars for having the idea to make Jungkook run a survivalist camp 🥳💜 Now, I can’t wait to write something that isn’t action— back to my sappy romance writing! I think one of the mermaid fics is next on my list ✨

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smolkooks · 3 months

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one thousand iphone screens - park jimin

500 words of sweetness and fluff, inspired by birds of a feather by billie eilish.

my masterlist!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

jimin couldn’t stop thinking about you. every moment of every day, his mind was full of you. when he was at the bakery, all he could think about was if you’d want a strawberry tart. when he was at uni, all he could think about was if your labs were going well. you, you, you.

he was done for.

his friends couldn’t stop reminding him of it, either. every time they caught him smiling at his too-bright phone school—the very same brightness level you always reprimanded him for—(jimin, you’ll go blind!)—they would clap his shoulder and laugh at how doomed he was. how utterly down bad.

as if he wasn’t aware of it.

at that point in time, it had been only six short months of your first meeting, and yet he felt you were the most perfect woman he’d ever laid eyes upon. your dark eyes—dark, yet bright—the brightest he’d ever seen. gleaming like lanterns in the sunlight and the moonlight and in the annoyingly bright glow of his beaten-up iphone, too. your long hair, loose pieces framing your face no matter how irritatedly you would tuck it behind your ears. it used to be black, you’d told him on your first date, but you’d dyed it brown years ago and couldn’t stop. endearingly, he’d called you an addict, and you’d laughed and didn’t correct him.

jimin loved everything about you. everything.

being around you was like being under the summer sun. it was like being under the light of all of the stars and yet feeling like the brightest celestial of them all was the one right next to him. he was so lucky. he was so fucking lucky.

and now, two years on, as his hands reached into the fleecey pocket of his sherpa jacket, the mountainous scenery around you framing your bright smile and dimpled cheeks as you stared into the distance, captivated by the sights, he couldn’t help the smile that broke across his own face, even though his heart pounded louder than it ever had before.

the box was velvety in his hand and the moment you spun around, he was on one knee, the knee of his cargo pants planted firmly into the wet dirt. he would never forget the look on your gorgeous face—the blues and greens of the nature around the two of you reflected in your widened eyes, cheeks pink with the autumn breeze and also your blush.

“will you marry me, my love?”

when you beamed brighter than he’d ever seen, yelling out your affirmation, he couldn’t help but pick you up and throw you into the air before kissing you deeply, holding you so close he thought you would mould into him. he wished you would.

the light of the afternoon sun felt dampened when compared to the joyous sparkle of your eyes as he slipped your engagement ring onto your finger. so bright. brighter than a thousand annoyingly-well-lit iphone screens.

so much brighter than that.

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 3 months

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Still With You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Eight

Summary: After Jungkook's outburst Jin gives you a ride home and assures you everything will work out just fine...until you find something unexpected on your doorstep throwing you for a loop Pairing : Luna (reader) x Jungkook and Jimin, f2l love triangle Word Count: 4k~ Warnings: Explicit language, an argument and a depiction of a panic attack (nothing crazy) a/n: horribly edited but hopefully this will hold you over till I come out with my next update 😅 Start from the beginning

"Jungkook stop I didn't mean it. I just..." I call out trying my best to catch up.

"You just what? Want to continue to string me along? Keep me waiting for you? Luna I love you, I've loved you for years. So excuse me for feeling fucked up seeing you with other guys. I want to be with you and knowing that you might not feel the same is killing me" he says cutting me off before I can explain myself.

"Jungkook please, don't do this. It's been a day, one fucking day since you told me. So excuse me if I'm asking for more time before making this kind of decision. This is exactly what I was afraid of! I don't want this to tear us apart, and from the way you've been acting it's just making my decision so much harder" I say showing him how serious this situation is.

"Jungkook I love you too, so much...". "Then why can't we-" he says eagerly jumping in. "I wasn't finished" I say regaining control. "...but maybe we should spend some time apart" I say looking down, now feeling unsure of myself.

"I know you've told me that you're feeling insecure being in this sort of situation and maybe you were right. Maybe you shouldn't have brought me here. I just... I need some time to process this, you're not just some guy that I'm okay with never seeing again after one failed date. You're my best friend, I care about you. I care about you so fucking much that I can't stand the thought of losing you" I say, my voice cracking.

"Jungkook I'm scared, I'm so fucking scared and I don't want to mess this up. I couldn't even imagine what my life would look like if it didn't have you in it. So please, just let me think about this for a little while and then we can work this out... together" I say grabbing his hand.

He returns my firm grasp on his hand but can't seem to look me in the eye. "Hey" I say tilting my face down towards the spot he's looking at. "Jungkook talk to me...please" I say feeling uncertain of my decision.

"You said we could figure this out together, yet you're trying to push me away. Luna what do you want from me? You want me to just act happy and make things go back to normal? I've been doing that for years and I don't think I can keep pretending" he says letting go of my hand.

"Is everything okay over here?" I hear Namjoon ask behind us. "Everything is fine" Jungkook says before giving me an expression that has so many emotions hidden behind it and turns to walk away. Before I can try to go after him again Namjoon takes a hold of my wrist. "I'll talk to him" he says simply and jogs to catch up with him.

I stand there downtrodden before I jump slightly, feeling someone's hand on my shoulder. "It's okay it's just me" I hear Jin say as I turn around to face him. "Are you okay?" he asks, genuinely concerned. "Did all of you guys hear that?" I say wiping away some stray tears. "Not all of us, Namjoon and I were the only ones who followed you" he says with a sad smile.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks and I drop my head avoiding his eye contact. "No...but do you think one of you guys could give me a ride home? I don't think Jungkook is really in the mood to speak to me right now" I relay, never thinking I would ever have to say something like that. "Of course, let me go grab my keys" he says, patting my shoulder, I'm sure in an effort to reassure me that everything is going to be okay before running back to the arcade.

I stand against the railing to look out and watch the moonlight reflect on the surface of the water, hoping and praying I did the right thing but the pit in my stomach says otherwise.

"Are you ready to go?" I hear Jin say as he makes his way back, my mind having trailed off for a while. "Yeah" I say plainly but make no moves to leave. "You guys are gonna work it out. Jungkook can get a little, emotional sometimes but I know it's only because he cares about you" he says walking over to me and giving my shoulder a friendly bump with his.

"I know but I'm just scared that if things change between us..." I pause trying to gather my thoughts. "If we get into a relationship with each other is he gonna start acting like this? Then again if we don't end up together and I decide to date someone else is he going to end our friendship? Jin this is just too much" I say letting my head droop.

"I think you both need some time to really think this through. Like you said this is a big decision and it shouldn't be taken lightly. You've both become a constant in each other's lives so it's important that you think things through" we stand there in silence for a few more moments before he gives my shoulder another light bump.

"Come on, let's get you home. Jungkook would kill me if I let you stay out too late and you caught a cold" he says, laughing at his possible reaction. I silently follow behind him getting lost in thought again until we reach the car and he has me put my address in his phone.

After sitting in silence for a while I jump when I hear Jin's phone ringing through the speakers. Namjoon's name flashes on screen so Jin doesn't hesitate to answer. "How's he doing?" Jin opens with. "He'll be alright, I think we all just teased him a little too much. Are you guys still here or are you taking Luna home?" I take that opportunity to jump in to answer.

"Hey Joon he's taking me home right now. Is he really okay? I didn't mean to hurt him I just-" "Hey don't worry about it okay? He's gonna be fine. Just give him some time to cool off, I'm sure you guys will be able to work this out" he cuts me off in an effort to soothe my anxiety. I nod my head hoping he'll take my silence as an answer. Jin continues the conversation with Joon for a little bit and I let the sounds of their voices drown out as I watch the scenery go by.

"Luna" I hear Jin say, calling me out of my thoughts. "I'm sorry did you say something?" I ask, hoping he knows that I wasn't trying to ignore him. "Are you hungry?" he asks with a smile on his face. "Because I'm starving" he continues. I smile at his enthusiasm and can't help but agree with him. "You know now that you mention it I could really go for a burger" I say offering up a suggestion. "A burgers it is!" he agrees, satisfied with our conclusion.

As we get closer to the city he turns the navigation off and we start to make our way to the burger joint. Once we're there Jin runs inside to grab our order and comes back with a huge bag of food.

"What did you get? One of everything?" I ask laughing at his excited face. "No..." he denies looking guilty and I just laugh in response. He drives us to a place with a beautiful view and we sit there in silence for a while, enjoying our food quietly. "So how did you meet Jungkook?" he asks clearing his throat after a rather huge bite of his second burger. I smile at his cute chubby cheeks filling up with more food a moment later.

"It's a long story but, we grew up together. We met at a park in our neighborhood one day and we just decided to meet back up at the same time everyday after that and I guess the rest is history. We've been inseparable since" I say with a melancholy feeling in my heart.

"Did you ever think that you might've had a crush on him when you were younger?" he continues as he picks up his milkshake to take a drink. "I don't know, maybe. I knew once we got a little older that he was cute, like I'm not blind but I guess I was too insecure that I didn't think he would ever see me as someone other than a friend. So I gave up early" I answer starting to lose my appetite.

I take a sip of my Sprite and let out a big sigh, looking out at the city lights. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable" He says leaning his head forward trying to catch my gaze. "No it's okay, it's just the past few days have been exhausting on all fronts and so I'm just not sure how I should feel about anything. All I know is that I miss him and I really don't want to mess this up" I say hanging my head.

"You miss him? You saw him like 2 hours ago" he teases, trying to lighten up the mood. "I know but hate it when we fight and the fact that my decision determines our relationship going forward scares the fuck out of me" I say leaning my head back on the headrest and running my fingers through my hair.

"Although Jungkook is an impatient brat most of the time I know he'll give you your space to get your feelings in order. At the end of the day he loves you and wants the best for you so don't forget that. He wouldn't want you to force yourself to do something you don't want to do so don't over think it" he finishes.

"You realize you just told someone who has anxiety not to overthink something that could change the course of their life right?" I say with a deadpan expression. He looks at me with wide eyes and an open mouth not really sure what to say. I let a smile crack a bit and he lets out a breath and laughs nervously. "It's okay I know you mean well, I've just gotta take a breather" I reassure, taking the pressure off him.

We sit in silence for a while, both looking out at the view and I take in a deep breath before turning towards him. "Do you think you could take me home? I'm getting really tired." I say with a slight smile. "Sure of course, just put in your address again and we'll head out" he says turning on the car and backing up to make our way back to the main road. I motion for the area he can drop me off at once we pull up to my place and he parks his car for a second.

"Hey can I have your phone for a second?" he asks and I hand it to him unlocking it beforehand. "There's my number. Call me if you need anything okay? Jungkook's my friend, but you are too" he says giving me a genuine smile.

"Text me so I have your number and don't stay up too late!" he says like the caring older brother that I know he has already become for me. "See you soon, let me know when you get home" I say waving him off as he drives away.

I turn around and make my way to my apartment where I see a red envelope addressed to me on my doorstep. After taking a quick look around I pick it up before unlocking my door and getting inside.

I place my bag and phone down on the kitchen table after taking my shoes off at the front door and walk towards my couch to sit down while looking over the envelop curiously.

I open it and immediately drop it and its contents all over the floor. Inside are pictures and polaroids of me, Grey and Jungkook. Some at work, others in the park or at the mall and even where Jungkook and I had been when he kissed me last night.

There are even ones from today of us at the arcade with Jungkook's friends and one of Jin and I in his car. Which means, whoever the fuck did this is still close.

I run towards my door and take a quick glance outside into the hallway and the window at the end of it but I can't find anyone. I hurry back into my apartment and close the door, feeling my breathing pick up as I slide my back along it. Tears start brimming in my eyes, threatening to fall but I pick myself up off the floor and rush to the table to get my phone and open my recent texts and hit call.

"Noona?" I hear Jimin say on the other line. I whimper as I try to clear my throat and keep my voice level. I open my mouth to say something but sob instead, feeling all the emotions flood to the surface.

"Noona are you okay? Where are you?" he says voice full of concern.

"I'm sorry Jimin I didn't mean to call you" I explain through cries.

"No it's okay don't worry about it. What's wrong, are you hurt? Where are you?" he continues hoping to figure out how to help me.

"I'm home it's just-" I say, a sob cutting me off.

"Do you want me to come over?" he asks and I can hear him get up and grab his keys leaving me whimpering in agreement, hoping he'll get here soon.

"Okay send me your location. I'm on my way" he says and I hang up, sending him my live location and while he's on his way over here I send him the code to my door so he can come right in.

Ten minutes later I hear him unlock the door and he rushes over to where I'm sitting and crying on the floor. "Noona what's wrong?" he says not really knowing how to comfort me. I lean into him and he takes that as the okay to wrap his arms around me.

I start crying even more now that he's here and he does his best to soothe me by rubbing my back and once the sobs turn into sniffles and my breathing comes back down to normal I feel him push me away the tiniest bit so he can look at me.

"Hey" he says with a smile and does his best to wipe the tears off my cheeks and smooth my hair back from my face. "Hey" I say in return, not being able to make eye contact just yet.

"Do you want some water?" he asks still rubbing my back hoping to encourage me to take deep breaths. I nod my head and he stands up, helping me up as well and walks me over to the couch before he grabs a water bottle out of the fridge.

I mumble a quick thank you and gulp down half of it, not realizing how thirsty I had been until now. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks, grabbing one of my hands and I hesitate for a second but I lean down and pick up the pictures that are all over the floor and lay them out on the coffee table.

"What are these?" he asks, brows pinched together while looking at all the photos with a puzzled expression, eyes glancing over every picture for a second or two before he gets to a picture of Jungkook and I kissing today with 'I'm Watching You' scrawled out across it with Jungkook's face scratched out along with the rest of them.

"Who would do this?" he whispers more to himself, mixed emotions flooding his features. "I don't know, I just showed up and it was sitting outside my door" I say motioning towards it. "Has this ever happened to you before?" he asks searching my face for any tells. "No not at all, I have no idea who this would've come from" I say shaking my head.

He nods and picks up the picture with the note on it to take a closer look at Jungkook and I in the intimate embrace. I take the picture out of his hand and collect the rest of them, putting them back into the envelope.

"Who's that?" he asks, trying to sound neutral but I can clearly see that he's hurting. "Um he's my friend" I say hoping we can move past it.

"Do you always kiss your friends like that?" he asks, nodding his head towards the the envelope. "Um, well no" I say looking away feeling somehow guilty. "So you're dating?" he continues, trying to figure out what Jungkook is to me. "No, but he wants to" I say owning up to it since he came all the way over here to help me.

He deserves some sort of explanation.

"You know that I want to date you too right?" he lets out, reminding me of the other night and I nod my head, feeling somewhat guilty for telling him he couldn't kiss me after laying all the cards on the table so to say.

"That picture was from today wasn't it?" he says taking note of the fact that my outfit matches the one in the picture. I nod my head again "Yeah it was" I confirm and he takes a deep breath, thinking for a second before saying what's been on his mind.

"Noona do I still have a chance with you? Because if I don't then please don't lead me on. I know we just met but I really like you" he says tilting my chin up so I can look at him. "I like you too, I just don't know how I feel about anything right now" I let out with a sigh. "Can you give me some time? I really just need to take a breather" I say hoping that he'll understand.

"Of course," he says giving me a sweet smile and pulls me into an embrace "take all the time you need". For some reason I feel my heart flutter at his response and compare it to Jungkook's outburst a few hours ago. I burry my face into his chest and take note of how comfortable I feel with him already, starting to relax in his embrace.

"Are you getting sleepy?" he ask finding me adorable and I hum in acknowledgement before I feel him pick me up and start walking over to my room. "Woah what are you doing?" I say wrapping my arms around his neck trying to keep myself from falling. "Taking you to bed" he says and smiles while walking into the room and then carefully sets me down on it.

"You know you didn't have to do that" I pout while I get under the covers. "I know, but I wanted to" he chuckles, brushing the hair off my face. He leans down and pauses for a moment but decides to give me a kiss on the forehead. I feel my heart flutter again at the action and watch as he pulls away and looks at me with a mixed expression.

"I should probably head back" he says straightening up and giving me space hoping that he hasn't made me uncomfortable. "Wait" I say and reach out to grab his hand. "Can you stay with me?" I ask tentatively, "I'm scared whoever might've left those might come back" I say hoping he'll stay.

He crouches down so he's eye level with me and gives my hand a squeeze. "Sure, I'll sleep out in the living room. Do you have an extra pillow and blanket?" he asks and runs his fingers through my hair. "Really?" I ask, so thankful he's going to stay as he nods his head in confirmation, "There's some in the closet over there" I say nodding towards it.

He smiles at me and straightens up, walks over to it and grabs what he might need for the night. He turns to go and I call out his name softly. He turns to me and waits for me to continue. "You are welcome to anything in the house okay, and..." I say training off a bit. "You're welcome" he says sweetly knowing what I was going to say and leaves closing the door.

I open my eyes and look around my room and realize that it's still dark outside. I turn and grab my phone to check the time and see that it's barely three o'clock in the morning. I put my phone back down on my nightstand and my eyes catch a glimpse out of my bedroom window.

I let them wander for a second until I notice the shadows start to blend into the shadow of a figure looking into my window. My breathing picks up and I feel myself starting to hyperventilate remembering the events from earlier tonight. The next thing I'm greeted with is Jimin in my room grabbing me and bringing me into an embrace.

I cling onto him and realize now that I'm crying and shaking and already spun up into another panic attack. He shushes me quietly and runs his hand through my hair in hopes of calming me down and I burry myself deeper into his hold, breathing in his sent and I slowly feel my breathing come back down to normal and the shaking has subsided leaving me feeling physically and emotionally spent.

"Are you okay?" he says starting to rub my back helping me ride out this wave. I nod my head and pull back from his embrace. "I'm sorry" I say and wipe away the remaining tears on my face. "Hey, don't ever say you're sorry, especially for things like this" he says while tucking my hair behind my ear.

"What happened?" he continues and tilts his head to the side trying to catch my glance. "My mind was playing tricks on me and I thought I saw someone watching me sleep through my window" I say while bringing my gaze back over to it. "I'm sorry I woke you up" I say feeling even more guilty, slowly coming back to my senses.

"What did I just say about saying sorry?" he says in a playful tone. "But I woke you up and I-" "Luna it's okay" he says cutting me off before I get started. "I came here to be with you. You needed someone and you called me, so let me help you okay?" he says and makes sure I keep eye contact with him this time. "Come here" he says and pulls me into a tight embrace.

We stay like that for a while and then he pulls away and offers to get me a glass of water again. "You gonna be okay in here?" he asks after I've finished the glass. "Could you... um" I start but hesitate. "Could I what?" he says tilting his head to the side. "Do you think you could come sleep next to me?" I ask timidly. He gives me a soft smile and walks over on the other side of the bed and gets under the covers without hesitating.

I scoot closer to him and tentatively lay my head on his chest which he welcomes and wraps an arm around me. "Is this okay?" I ask hoping I haven't been too forward with all of this. "It's perfect" he says and wraps his other arm around me pulling me even closer. "Goodnight Noona" he says and I feel the way his deep voice rumbles through his chest. "Goodnight Jimin" I mumble feeling myself drifting off to sleep again.

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magicshopaholic · 6 days

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Part 1: A Rainy Day

Summary: Namjoon is on holiday with his girlfriend - and without Namjoon, all hell breaks loose.

Pairing: OT7 x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Humour, fluff, angst, chaos

Word count: 6.9 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language

A/N: I can't believe we're finally here! This fic has been in mind for so long, slowly evolving from a concept with a soundtrack to a whole outline and now to a complete half of a fic! Everything from the song to the situation to the leap that most of the characters will take feel like a milestone, so here's hoping it's a good one *insert gatsby meme*

The teaser to this fic got a lot of reactions :D so to make it worth the anticipation, this will be split into two parts. It is set a week or so after Dinner at the Kangs'. Enjoy!

Tagging: @bbl32@quarter-life-crisis2@dreaming-with-happiness@faearchives@margopinkerton@purpleseoul7@confessionsofamarshlily @jiminjhang @xjoonchildx @tarahardcore @infinitehobi @handfullofcandids @whoisbts @kflixnet (drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: “bittersweet symphony" by the verve

teaser | main masterlist

November in Seoul rolls around unexpectedly soon and occupies its usual position: a harbinger of the cold and white winter months, making the heat and humidity of summer a distant memory.

With BTS’s world tour officially at an end, followed by its normal uptick in concert clips and dance challenges floating around the internet while the company celebrates amidst figurative piles of cash, the members finally have the luxury of a few weeks off work where seeing them off stage and in casuals is the new novelty.

This includes Namjoon as well. After a tumultuous year of heartbreak and pain and longing, along with the real and genuine fear that he may have to give up the girl of his dreams due to extenuating circumstances, he and Kaya mutually decide that they need time away to reconnect with each other. Leaving behind their homes in Seoul and Amsterdam respectively, they reunite at Auckland Airport from where they take a cab in relative anonymity to begin their vacation.

With Namjoon gone, the company automatically takes it easy on the group as well. With Namjoon gone, the members manage to relax, able to keep an additional distance between them and the company before work inevitably starts again and the nomadic life of sleepless nights, dance practices and event appearances resurface.

Perhaps they underestimate their leader’s role in their lives, or it simply does not occur to them just how dependent they all are on each other after a decade of working, living and breathing in synchronicity. Namjoon is only gone for three weeks in total - but with Namjoon gone, all hell breaks loose.

With Namjoon gone, one member crosses a line.

With Namjoon gone, one member unintentionally makes a mess.

With Namjoon gone, one member makes a joke without realising its consequences.

With Namjoon gone, one member does something he’s ashamed of.

And with Namjoon gone, two members kiss someone they shouldn’t.

—

“Screen, food, lights - check.” Jimin tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as he frowns at his phone screen, eyes flitting between it and the writing pad he’s hastily scribbling on. “Need to pick up the champagne - oi, Jungkook, can you give me a ride to the liquor store? My car is getting serviced this weekend.”

“What about your Toyota?”

“It’s at my apartment. That’s farther than the liquor store.”

Jungkook pauses and looks up from the stove, across the kitchen island from Jimin. “Wait, the liquor store is in the building. Why do you need -”

“Not that liquor store,” interrupts Jimin patiently. “I need to go to the one in Gangnam, which has the tasting menu and assortments.”

“Why -“

“Because it’s Sooah’s birthday,” answers Taehyung from where he’s lying down on the sofa, scrolling through his phone and not bothering to look up. “Normal champagne won’t cut it. Not for Kim Sooah.”

Hoseok frowns, coming up from behind Jimin and peering at the writing pad. “Why not? Wait - why do you need professional lighting and sound equipment?” he asks, reading from it. “And food from Golden Pig? I thought the lunch was at MOBO Bar. Hang on -“ He looks bewildered. “Isn’t her birthday tomorrow?”

“The lunch tomorrow is for all her friends,” supplies Jungkook, pouring a steaming pot of cooked ramen into a bowl. “Tonight is just hyung and Sooah.”

“Yes, and don’t anyone be late tomorrow.” Jimin reminds them in a business-like tone, continuing to check things on his phone and tick them off. “I know you guys have to film a thing tomorrow morning, but make sure you come straight there. And, seriously - can anyone drive me to the liquor store or not?”

“I have a Zoom meeting starting in five minutes,” says Hoseok, clapping him on the back, “or I totally would. What about Yoongi?”

“He’s not here. He left for a meeting in Incheon this morning,” chimes in Jungkook again. “Won’t be back until later.”

“How much later -” Hoseok starts to ask, but is cut off by Jimin huffing.

“So no one can take me to the liquor store?” he demands. “Which is, like, twenty minutes away? I wish Namjoon hyung were here,” he adds sullenly, shaking his head. “He would’ve driven me.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” says Hoseok indulgently. “Taehyung, you can take him. Your car has a ton of extra space, too.”

“I’m busy,” answers Taehyung listlessly, still on his phone. When no one responds, he looks up to see all the other three staring at him. “Fine, I guess I could,” he agrees with a huge sigh, clambering off the sofa and trudging to the dining table, sliding into the seat adjacent to Jimin’s.

Jimin narrows his eyes. “It’s not such a big deal, you know. You can just give me your keys if you want.”

“Yeah, why are you in such a mood today, anyway?” Hoseok asks, his hands on the back of Jimin’s chair.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles, running his hands over his unwashed face. “I’m just…” He shakes his head and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Hungry, I guess.”

“Hungry?”

“That’s code for horny,” says Jimin, raising his eyebrows nonchalantly when Taehyung looks up to glare at him, but doesn’t disagree.

Hoseok snorts as Jungkook joins them with his ramen, silently sitting across from Taehyung. “That must be some dry spell if you can’t help out your buddy,” he says, a bit pointedly.

Taehyung observes Jimin for a moment, then sighs. “You know what? You’re right. Let’s go to the liquor store. I’ll help you look for the best champagne out there - and since you’re not driving, you can try every single thing on the tasting menu,” he offers in a moment of generosity.

Jimin’s head snaps up from his phone. “Really?” When Taehyung nods, relief floods his cherubic face. “Thank God. Because I - I really need tonight to be absolutely perfect -”

“I know, I know,” interrupts Taehyung, clapping him on the shoulder and standing up. “I’ll just grab a quick shower and we’ll go. Jungkook,” he says, waiting for the younger member to look up in surprise. “Want to come along?”

Jungkook, who’s polished most of his bowl clean by now, looks up at him with wide eyes. “Me?”

“Yeah,” answers Taehyung evenly. “Why not?”

There’s a flicker of doubt in Jungkook’s eyes which he seems to partially blink away. “Yeah. Yeah, no, yeah - I mean - sure.” He scoops up a large bite of noodles with his chopsticks and inhales it. “Jus’ give me a minute,” he says through a mouthful of food.

Taehyung nods. “Ramen looks good,” he says after a moment. “Can I have a bite?”

Jungkook nods instantly and pushes the bowl across the table. Taehyung takes a bite, slurping the sauce until he’s swallowed the entire thing. “Delicious,” he says honestly, waiting just long enough to see Jungkook smile before turning around and heading into his room.

—

“This one’s fruity,” decides Jimin, smacking his lips and frowning seriously. He places the small glass down and picks up another, giving it a sniff and proceeding to take a sip. “But this one is definitely more bubbly.”

It takes a lot for a liquor store to provide a tasting menu for champagne, but for the correct price, it can be done. Taehyung isn’t entirely sure how much Jimin has paid for this particular round of testers but he gives his honest opinions, careful to keep his friend’s spirits high for today.

It hadn’t occurred to him back at the house, but it seems obvious now why Jimin is so anxious about tonight. If Taehyung’s hunch is correct, it’s because it’s Sooah’s first birthday since they’ve gotten back together after years of sniping and occasionally hooking up, and Jimin has taken on the pressure to make it perfect to the next level.

“I like this one.” Jungkook points to a bottle on the shelf. “We had it after the last concert, remember?”

Jimin looks up briefly and shakes his head. “Chandon is the last resort, if I find nothing better today. Come on, it’s Sooah’s birthday. Chandon is way too basic.”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows but says nothing, his eyes meeting Taehyung’s, who takes his hunch to be correct.

“I’m going to go see if there are any other bottles at the back,” says Taehyung, leaving Jimin to overthink the little glasses of bubbly liquid. He stops by one of the staff and leans in. “Can you bill a Chandon anyway?” he asks in a low voice. “Just in case?”

“Of course. Should I combine it with Mr Park’s other purchases?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “Put it on my tab.”

The staff nods and takes a bottle up to the register as Taehyung turns the corner to another shelf full of champagne, Jungkook a few steps behind him.

“That was nice,” he comments, hovering at the edge of the shelf.

“He deserves it,” mutters Taehyung, feeling slightly guilty about his standoffish behaviour at the dorm a little while ago. “Guy’s stressing way too much. I know Sooah will love whatever he’s planning. She’s chill that way.” He pauses. “What is he planning, anyway?”

“I mean, I don’t know all the details but I think it’s one of those movie screening things at the park.”

“In public? At the park? What - are they going to sit in the back and pour out champagne while everyone else is drinking cokes and beers?”

“What? No, he rented out the whole park,” explains Jungkook. “It’s just them, with a huge screen and seating and food - and champagne, I guess. He’s got professional sound equipment and heating and blankets and everything. He really went all out.”

Taehyung stares, a bit horrified but mostly impressed. “Wow. That actually sounds really romantic.”

“It does,” agrees Jungkook absently, peering at the label of a bottle where he’s still standing at the end of the aisle. “I just hope it goes well.”

“So do I. And I hope it doesn’t rain,” he points out. “It’s been drizzling every day and raining in parts of the city. It could really put a damper on the whole outdoor movie thing.”

“Yeah. Hopefully it won’t.”

“Hopefully.”

A slightly awkward silence falls over them. Taehyung glances over at him to see him pick up a bottle of whiskey from the opposite shelf. He turns the bottle over in his hands before looking at the price tag, letting out a low whistle and placing the bottle back.

“What about you?” When Jungkook looks up, Taehyung continues. “Any plans today?”

“Uh, not really.” He pauses. “I have a date, actually. Kind of.”

“Yeah? With the tattoo artist?” When he nods, Taehyung grins. “Nice. Why aren’t you more excited about it, though?”

Jungkook gives a noncommittal shrug. “I don’t know. I was thinking of blowing it off. Going to the gym, maybe. Namjoon hyung usually joins me on Fridays and we spot each other on the bench press but I guess I’ll have to go alone today. Unless you want to come along?” he asks hesitantly.

Taehyung had spent a couple of hours at the gym yesterday but he nods anyway. “I’d love to, but why are you avoiding your date?”

“I’m not avoiding it. I haven’t worked out in, like… three days.”

“So come back and work out.” Taehyung frowns. “I have nothing to do all day so I’ll be here whenever. You may want to go easier on the weights with me, though.”

Jungkook chuckles, sounding relieved. “Give yourself a little more credit than that, hyung.”

“Please. Namjoon broke the lock on my bedroom door with one hand the day he left when he was looking for a spare set of Airpods.” Taehyung shakes his head. “He’s a menace, and he just adds to it whenever he starts working out.”

Jungkook laughs. “We’re definitely less clumsy in the gym than he is, that’s for sure. Is seven pm good for you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Dilara has been pestering me to give boxing a shot, so, you know. Tonight might be the night.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, of course. That’s a good idea. I mean -” He shakes his head, as though getting rid of a fly. “It’s… it’s an idea.”

Taehyung is about to comment on this strange response but notices Jungkook gazing intently at the whiskey shelf again, his ears slightly red, and decides not to.

Ever since the Samsung event nearly a month ago, Jungkook has been almost walking on eggshells around Taehyung. Taehyung wishes he wouldn’t; that night had been awkward at best and contentious at worst, and had been entirely unexpected on various fronts. However, he and Dilara had awoken the next morning in an air of mutual forgiveness and shared an intimate couple of hours before breakfast, filled with silent apologies and hope.

Regarding Jungkook, Taehyung had had every intention of giving him the cold shoulder for a while, at least, still somewhat peeved at the sudden confrontation from his very non-confrontational friend. As it turned out, the moment they’d all reached Seoul and climbed out of their separate SUVs, Jungkook had cornered Taehyung outside their building and begun apologising profusely.

That had taken him more off guard than their argument last night; Taehyung had tried to get a word in amidst the explanations but looking at how horrible Jungkook clearly felt, he hadn’t had the heart to give him any more grief about it. Somehow, the whole situation had ended with Taehyung comforting Jungkook, telling him to forget about it, that he understood he and Dilara were friends.

Jungkook had looked like he wanted to say something more but he’d shook his head instead, and they’d hugged until Dilara stepped out of her SUV. Jungkook had skirted around both of them for the next few days until Dilara had left Seoul, after which Taehyung had gently but categorically told Jungkook to chill out.

He isn’t sure if Jungkook has got the message yet. He thinks he has for the most part; they’ve hung out many times since then, for work, with other friends - but maybe the mention of Dilara has suddenly made him clam up again.

“Sir.” The same store staff who was ringing up the Chandon appears from behind the shelf. “Mr Park has picked out a Cristal that will be delivered to his residence shortly. Anything else I can help you with?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Taehyung starts to say as he and Jungkook begin moving towards the front of the store. As the younger member continues on his way, Taehyung stops. Retracing his steps, he picks up the bottle of whiskey that Jungkook had been examining.

“Can you add this to the Chandon?” he asks, waiting for the store staff to nod before he joins his friends.

—

Seokjin [12:30] Are you working late today?

Seulgi [12:33] Not sure. Why?

Seokjin [12:33] I’m on my way back from Annyeong now so I should be in Seoul in a couple of hours. Wanted to see if you maybe want to go out tonight?

Seulgi [12:36] It’s supposed to pour today. And doesn’t look likely with my calendar anyway.

Seulgi [12:37] But I’ll try, in case something opens up.

Seokjin doesn’t reach Seoul until almost three hours later. The long solo drive was a nice way to get some time to himself, especially with the mild anxiety that had started to creep up over the last couple of days, almost as though he was forgetting something. He would’ve spent a lot less time driving but the traffic was maddening; as per the radio, it was due to people driving in and out of the city for the weekend combined with rain warnings.

He reaches the dorm to find it empty. Ordinarily, he would’ve gone back to his own apartment but something about being back in his childhood home for a week, along with Seulgi’s distant demeanour, makes him want to be around his friends for a little bit.

As it turns out, none of them seem to be home at the moment but he knows they’re here: there’s a bowl in the sink with ramen sauce smeared on it; a Gucci hoodie he knows is Jimin’s is draped over the back of a chair; Taehyung’s bedroom door is slightly ajar, the bedcovers unmade and clearly slept in.

Seokjin sinks onto the sofa and lies down on it, closing his eyes and preparing for a nap. He has no plans for today whatsoever, especially if Seulgi doesn’t get back to him. He isn’t entirely surprised at her mood; ever since he’d ventured into the territory of him and Nari, she’d begun distancing herself from him.

He couldn’t blame her; he had no idea what he was walking into with Nari and the fact that Seulgi had to stand by and wait for him to figure it out would have to rankle. He wasn’t fully surprised when, a couple of days after the fact, she confessed to Seokjin that it wouldn’t be the worst thing to take some time apart.

Sleep doesn’t come to him, not really. He dozes off at least half a dozen times without actually falling asleep, his mind constantly replaying the last few weeks, with that nagging sense of stress and anxiety a constant in his mind. Seokjin lazes around until he marks the attempt futile, just as the front door opens and Jimin strides in with his phone to his ear, followed by Taehyung and Jungkook trooping in behind him.

“Hey, hyung,” they chorus, Jungkook falling onto the sofa next to Seokjin. “When did you get back?”

“Just a little while ago.” Seokjin looks around at them, rubbing his eyes. “Are you guys also staying here this weekend?”

Before any of them can answer, one of the other bedroom doors opens and Hoseok steps out, stretching and yawning. “Hey, hyung. How was the champagne tasting?” he asks Jimin, who holds up a finger as he continues talking.

“Oi, Hobi, you’re here, too?” Seokjin frowns, bewildered. “Wait, have you been here this whole time?”

Hoseok nods and points noncommittally to his bedroom as he walks over to the dining table to peer into a bag that Taehyung has placed on it. “Ooh, Chandon. Is that the one he picked finally?”

“Jimin chose the Cristal,” says Jungkook. “And he’s getting it delivered.”

“He did and it is,” confirms Taehyung, and says no more.

Hoseok raises his eyebrows. “Okay. And what about the Jameson?”

“That’s for Jungkook.”

Hoseok just about catches Jungkook’s surprised look before Seokjin speaks again. “So - wait, I thought Jimin’s lunch was tomorrow.”

“Sooah’s, and yes,” says Jimin, getting off the phone and finally looking up, seeming a bit frazzled. “Tonight is just me and her. There was some kind of confusion with the food,” he says to Taehyung, who’s giving him a questioning look.

“Oh, hey, if Sooah is going to be with you tonight, does that mean Chaeyoung will be home alone?” Hoseok asks.

“I guess,” answers Jimin vaguely as his phone rings again. “Damn it, it’s the park coordinator again.”

“The park?” Seokjin raises his eyebrows sceptically as Jimin takes the call, and turns around to look out the nearest window. “It’s already drizzling. It’s supposed to pour tonight, you know?”

Hoseok shrugs, while Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Doesn’t matter. Jimin is in charge and if he wants to give the birthday girl a night in the park, he’s going to make sure it happens.”

And suddenly, Seokjin knows what he’s been forgetting.

—

“Okay, wait.” Jimin exhales sharply and closes his eyes. “You said that you do have an option of a makeshift roof or something - but now you’re saying you don’t want to do it? I put a deposit down on the whole place,” he reminds him.

“Mr Park, I’m saying we can do it but I don’t recommend it,” says the coordinator patiently. “We use that for light drizzles or snowfall but the downpour that’s been predicted will render it useless.”

“There’s been a downpour predicted every single day of this week and nothing has happened,” he points out. “I’m okay to take that risk.”

“It’s not just the furniture, Mr Park.” The coordinator sounds mildly stern now. “It’s a lot of expensive sound equipment as well and I cannot, in good conscience, risk having it outside -“

“Okay.” Jimin interrupts him, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to think. “What if we moved it to slightly earlier?”

“It’s already drizzling, sir.”

“Fine, do you have a different spot in the park?” He asks through gritted teeth. “Something more canopied, perhaps?”

The coordinator hums vaguely and there’s the clicking of a keyboard in the background. Jimin rolls his eyes at Taehyung, who’s approaching him with a questioning look, and mutes the call.

“I’m going to kill this guy,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I've been planning this for a month and he’s pulling the rug out from under me now?”

“I mean, he may have a point. If it rains then your plan is ruined - but it’ll probably stop in a bit,” Taehyung adds hastily when Jimin glowers.

“God, I hope so,” he says, although even he is starting to think that it might not. “I can handle a slight change of plan with the venue but the rest of it has to be perfect. There’s the food and the cake, and - oh, did the champagne arrive?”

“Er, not yet.” Taehyung checks his watch. “They said they would send it in an hour, right? Should’ve been here by now.”

Jimin is about to swear but just then, the park coordinator says something. He waves Taehyung away, accepting an encouraging clap on the back, and gets back on the call.

“Sir, we might have something on the other side of the park,” he suggests hesitantly. “The view is not the same, but it fits the general requirement.”

“The view - you mean it doesn’t have a view of the Han.” Jimin takes a deep breath, preparing to choose his battles. “Okay. What is this other side of the park? Where - how - I mean, what does it look like?”

“It’s in a way that the screen and the projector and all the sound equipment will be protected, but you and your companion will still be able to enjoy the beautiful outdoors.”

Jimin frowns. “How -“ Somehow, all he’s able to picture is some kind of garage where everything is stuffed in and just two lawn chairs and dragged out onto the grass.

“It’s available for inspection now, sir. But we don’t have a lot of time as we need to confirm the booking at least two hours before the actual event in order to make preparations.”

Jimin’s eyes widen and he lunges after Taehyung, grabbing his hand and checking his watch. “It’s almost five pm! I was supposed to have the venue from seven pm anyway!”

“You are an esteemed client, Mr Park, so we can make that exception. Our staff is very efficient and can help you -“

He resists the urge to scream over the phone at someone who, at the end of the day, is just doing his job.

“I’ll be there,” he says quickly and hangs up. “Okay, I’m heading out,” he adds to nobody in particular, but Taehyung follows him into his room anyway.

“Everything okay?” he asks, stopping at the doorway.

“No. Actually, you know what? Yes,” says Jimin firmly, shedding his clothes and throwing on the outfit he was planning to wear (comfortable jeans and a Louis Vuitton jacket, plus a Gucci hoodie of his that Sooah loves to snuggle in). “It will be okay because there’s really no other option.”

“Look, I’m sure it’ll work out fine, but… I mean, I’m sure Sooah will appreciate the thought no matter how it goes,” he reasons.

“You know, I’m sure she will,” agrees Jimin hurriedly, “but I need this to be more than just a thought. Okay? Because this is - this is -” He struggles for a few moments before giving up. “This is Kim Sooah,” he says finally.

Taehyung looks like he wants to say something but instead he simply nods. “Okay, go, then. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah - can you bring the champagne down there once it gets delivered?” he asks immediately, rushing out of the room and gathering his phone and keys. “The food and cake will come there directly - hang on, I need to check out -” He fishes out his phone and makes a call, tucking the phone in between his ear and shoulder.

They reach the living room and Jimin scans it to see Hoseok, Seokjin and Jungkook in front of the television, sharing a large bowl of popcorn while a football match goes on.

“Jungkook, I’m taking your car.” Jimin grabs a bunch of keys from the side table and, without waiting for a response, dashes out of the front door.

The park coordinator may not have been completely wrong; the rain is already at a steady speed, enough that most people have pulled out their umbrellas and the roads are starting to get jammed. He drives to the park anyway, a little unsettled at seeing it completely empty this time of day, leaves the Gucci hoodie in the backseat and runs inside towards the office.

The coordinator seems to be waiting for him. “Right this way, Mr Park,” he says immediately, barely giving Jimin time to run a hand through his damp blond hair before ushering him out under a black umbrella.

“This is the alternative?” Jimin asks a few minutes later, staring up at the thick cloth separating them from the rain.

“Yes - now I know it’s not probably what you pictured but it’s the best we can do in such short notice, Mr Park.”

“Actually, this is exactly what I pictured,” he murmurs, heart sinking. It does look like a makeshift garage in front of them, like something he would’ve planned back when they were in high school, using a bedsheet for a screen and a Bluetooth speaker for an innovative night out, with instant ramen and cokes. He’d hoped that now, all these years later, they were finally due for an upgrade - but the universe clearly had other plans.

Okay, Jimin. Stop whining. Just think. He takes a deep breath and turns around, wincing a little and trying to ignore how the rain is getting louder by the minute.

“Okay, so it’s… five-thirty,” he says. “Sooah will be here by seven which gives me just enough time to follow up on the food and drinks. What?” he asks, when the coordinator’s assistant looks confused.

“Well, it’s - it’s just -” She stutters, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Won’t the food get ruined, sir?”

“Why will it -” Jimin stops, closing his eyes. The rain. “Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath.

“Sir, we can arrange for a table next to the screen under the roof so you and your friend can come up and take your food and go back outside -” He stops abruptly when he sees Jimin’s incredulous expression. “I mean… it could be like a buffet,” he reasons in a small voice.

“It won’t be anything like a buffet. Sir, come on -” He sighs, at his wit’s end and getting anxious. “Can’t we get - I don’t know - something stronger up there to protect us from the rain? The screen, projector, electronics - all of that is going to be under the roof. The sound is going to be compromised because of the rain anyway - can’t we just get a slightly stronger thing above our heads so the food doesn’t have to move, too?”

The coordinator starts to say something sympathetic when Jimin’s phone rings. He apologises and picks it up immediately. “Taehyung! Come to the other end of the park - no, not that side. The side by the exit parking lot.” He stays on the phone for another minute until he spots Taehyung jogging up the path with an umbrella in one hand and a plain tote bag in the other that Jimin assumes contains the champagne.

“Thank God,” he sighs, shoving his phone back in his pocket as Taehyung reaches him.

“Okay, listen -” Taehyung holds up a hand. “Don’t freak out. But I think when you gave the liquor store your address, you gave them your apartment and not the dorm. But - “ He says loudly, preempting Jimin’s heart stopping in his chest, “I got this as a backup,” he says, retrieving a bottle of Chandon from the bag.

It’s not what Jimin had chosen but the fact that something has found a solution is more than he could hope for right now. In a moment of emotion, he hugs Taehyung tightly.

“Alright,” says Taehyung gruffly, patting him on the back. “Come on now, you have things to do, Jimin. Oh, speaking of which,” he adds as Jimin steps away, “Sooah called me a little while ago. I don’t know if she was looking for hints or what, but I told her you’re working really hard at it.”

“You did?” Jimin can’t decide if this is a good thing. “Alright. Well. Got to get it done, then, I guess.”

“It’ll be great. Don’t worry.”

There’s a clap of thunder and they both jump. Taehyung opens his mouth, clearly looking for words of comfort but eventually gives up. Giving Jimin another pat on the shoulder, he hurries away in the rain, the umbrella barely helping anymore.

—

Stepping out of a hot shower, steam still rising from the bathroom behind him, Seokjin ties a towel around his waist and enters his room. The moment he does, the first thing he sees is the view outside the window, with rain lashing down the city. He stares at it, horridly fascinated, when he remembers.

He sits on his bed, glad he’s in the warmth of the dorm, and makes a phone call.

“Hey,” he says, glad she picked up on the second ring. “How are you?”

“Fine,” says Seulgi, but she doesn’t sound curt. “You?”

“I’m okay. What about you? Are you still at Big Hit?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Uh, have you looked outside?”

“Oh. That.” Seulgi sighs. “Yeah, it looks pretty bad. But I still have work to get done so I’m stuck here for a while no matter what. All I can do is hope the rain stops sometime tonight.”

“The forecast says it’s going to go on really late,” points out Seokjin, peering out of the window uneasily again. “I can barely see the river from my window anymore. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get home now before it gets worse. I can pick you up,” he offers.

“No. I mean - no, thank you,” she amends, her voice softening a bit. “I told you, I have a ton of work to get done. There are still two whole meetings to go - I don’t think I’ll be able to leave before ten, no matter what.”

“But it’ll get actively dangerous to commute in worse rain than this,” he argues. “The company should care about an employee’s wellbeing over a meeting.”

She scoffs. “You work for the same company, Seokjin,” she reminds him. “How many times have they prioritised your wellbeing over a work commitment?”

To this, Seokjin has no answer. “You have a point,” he admits grudgingly, and is heartened to hear her chuckle. “Okay, but can you tell me whenever your meetings do end? I’ll pick you up - and I’ll drop you to your place,” he clarifies quickly. “If that’s what you want.”

Seulgi doesn’t reply for a few seconds. “Seokjin,” she says carefully, but then sighs. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do but I don’t know if…”

He waits for her to continue but when she doesn’t, he speaks. “Look, I’m not trying anything,” he says, turning away from the window and feeling the same guilt he’s felt around her for weeks now. “But these are special circumstances. I mean, I don’t know if you have a window anywhere around you, but it is insane out there right now.”

“Alright,” she says, but she doesn’t sound convinced. “I’ll let you know. Chances are, the rain will stop.”

“Let me know either way.” Seokjin waits until she hangs up, not really sure what he was expecting from this exchange. Seulgi wasn’t off base at all; apart from the rain, the constant nagging guilt at putting her through this period of doubt definitely played a part.

He isn’t any closer to figuring out his stance with Nari. Seulgi feels far away, farther away than a girlfriend should. It’s a mess and all he can do now is wait.

The rain pours harder, the sky darkening and thunder deafening. Jungkook is lazing around the house, doing laundry and other chores while Taehyung is video calling a friend who’s working abroad. Hoseok is a ball of nervous energy, mentioning more than once that he hopes Chaeyoung is okay in the storm and safe at home.

Seokjin just waits, until a couple of hours later, Seulgi finally lets him know.

Seulgi [20:00] Hey. So my second meeting hasn’t even started yet and I think the company has finally caught on to the situation outside. Apparently they got a government advisory about the storm and that it’s only going to get worse.

Seokjin [20:01] So… what? They’re not letting you leave?

Seulgi [20:02] They’re advising us not to. And honestly, I don’t think anyone should be outside in this rain. Apparently parts of the city are losing electricity, too - another team was supposed to have a work dinner in Hongdae but it got cancelled because the whole restaurant shut down.

Seokjin [20:03] How will you get home then?

Seulgi [20:03] They’ve set up rooms here - I think they’ve repurposed the resting rooms that the idols use on the top floor for the rest of us mere mortals. It’s not ideal but it’s better than trying to go out there.

Seokjin bites his lip. It sounds rather like she’s made a decision, albeit grudgingly, and in typical Seulgi fashion, has told him subtly not to bother coming over. It’s hard to argue when she hasn’t said it in so many words, and even harder to justify an argument while being able to hear the wind outside.

“What are you guys planning to do for the rest of the night?” Seokjin asks, looking up at the others.

“Not sure,” answers Taehyung, getting up from where he was lying on the sofa and walking towards the kitchen. “Lazy night in, I think. Jungkook has a date, though,” he adds, grinning.

Hoseok whistles teasingly as Jungkook chuckles, his ears going slightly red. “I do but it’s raining so hard. I’ll probably have to cancel,” he says, giving Taehyung a sheepish smile that Seokjin doesn’t fully understand.

“Okay, so that’s two. Hobi?” Seokjin taps his watch. “What about you?”

“Oh, uh…” Hoseok shakes his head, looking a bit distracted. “Not sure. Why?”

“Just - just curious. Seulgi was just saying that there’s an advisory about the storm floating around and Hongdae has lost power or something, so in case any of you have plans…”

Hoseok’s face goes slack. “Hongdae lost power?”

“Well, one restaurant in Hongdae lost power as far as I know -”

“Chaeyoung lives near Hongdae,” mutters Hoseok, tapping furiously on his phone before putting it to his ear. “Sooah is out with Jimin so she’s probably alone…” He taps his foot impatiently for a few seconds before swearing. “She isn’t picking up.”

“Maybe it’s a signal issue,” Jungkook starts to say, but Hoseok is already off the sofa and grabbing a jacket. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To check on Chaeyoung,” he answers bluntly, rummaging for his car keys in the bowl on the mantle and dashing out of the apartment without any further explanation, the door slamming shut behind him.

Seokjin’s heart races; it’s a gale out there, but this is a sign. Chaeyoung must matter that much to Hoseok, if the decision was that quick for him. He checks his watch again to see it’s a quarter past eight. He traces the familiar route in his mind, calculating how much longer it will probably take him to get there than the average day.

Something clicks and he hurries up off the couch as well, pulling his shoes on before the other two even seem to realise that something has happened.

“Wait, where are you -”

Taehyung is cut off by the front door slamming shut for the second time. Seokjin hurries down the hall, checking his pocket for his phone and keys as he takes the elevator to the basement car parking.

If he had been amazed by the rain from inside the three storey dorm in Hannam Hill, he wasn’t ready for the real thing. The moment he pulls his car out of the parking lot and above ground, the sound of the rain hitting the roof of his car is like gunshots. For a moment, he considers reversing and doing this another day but the fact of the matter is that today is the day.

In the distance, he sees what could be another set of headlights turning down a path and out of the main gates that he guesses is Hoseok. Making up his mind, he heads out, trying to drive as carefully as possible in the severely compromised visibility of the streets.

The roads are largely empty save for buses, some taxis and cars that seem to be desperate to get done with the night. Despite knowing the route like the back of his hand, Seokjin plugs in his phone and turns on the map in case there are road blockages, and starts driving.

He has no idea what Big Hit can possibly do when it comes to building any sort of nightly camp for its employees in the office. All these years, his attempt has remained to stay as far away from that artificially lit building as he possibly can, preferring to cling on to the vestiges of normal life outside of it.

Namjoon will know. The answer comes easily to him and even though the leader is on holiday, Seokjin decides this is enough of an emergency to disturb him during it. He calls him and waits, still driving through the rain as best as he can, the roads flowing and reflecting the street lamps, the sheets of rain falling with a vengeance.

Namjoon doesn’t answer, possibly because it's his last few hours of vacation. Swearing uncharacteristically, Seokjin dials the next best person. The line crackles and a woman’s voice, a bit far away, sounds abruptly before another takes its place.

“Hello?”

“Yoongi,” says Seokjin gratefully, swerving down a lane and wincing as he splashes a row of bikes parked along the side of the road. “Listen - have you ever seen the resting rooms on the top floor of the company building?”

There are sounds at the other end, of similar rain and splashing water. The woman’s voice floats again, a soft “Shit” in the background before Yoongi speaks.

“What?”

“The resting rooms on the top floor,” repeats Seokjin urgently, honking at what he thinks might be another car coming the opposite way. The side mirrors are completely useless by now. “Have you seen them? What are they like?”

“Oh, that? The ones for the idols?” There’s a screeching sound on the other end and Yoongi swears this time. “They’re fine, I guess. I’ve crashed there a couple times after all-nighters.”

“Really?” Relief washes over Seokjin but before he can say anything further, the voice at the other pierces the air.

“Yoongi - that’s a tree!”

“Fuck!” Another screeching sound, a loud one, and then silence. “Uh… hyung,” says Yoongi, sounding uncertain. “I’m going to have to call you back.”

The line goes silent but Seokjin has what he wants. He just hopes Yoongi is okay and makes a mental note to call him in a little while as he pulls onto Hangang-daero, passing building after building - museums, a school, the ramen joint where he and Seulgi had first gone to almost a year ago… he keeps going, barely able to see the flyover in front of him through the rain. His wipers work overtime as he passes the last building before the bridge, seeing the company logo flash momentarily in his rearview mirror before it disappears.

The areas off the main road are darker somehow, the roads narrower, trees thicker and the rain seeming even more stifling. But the closer Seokjin gets, the more he’s convinced that he’s made the right decision. He parks the car in his regular spot and, holding his hood over his head, sprints across the street as the raindrops pelt him until he enters the building, already fairly wet.

He doesn’t dither; running upstairs to the first floor, he knocks on the door, thankful that there’s a sliver of light underneath. Behind him, the storm rages on. As he waits, Seokjin turns to look outside the window in the corridor, seeing small gusts of wind and trees moving with the force. Twenty seconds and his socks and shoes are drenched; he slides open the window slightly and immediately backs away, the wind and droplets hitting him instantly.

The sound of the door opening is the only thing louder to him than the rain. He turns around, his heart hammering.

“Seokjin?” Nari frowns, in a college hoodie and faded jeans, thick socks on her feet. Her hair falls unbrushed down her shoulders and she’s clutching a sheaf of papers in one hand. “What are you doing here?”

He wants to smile; it’s automatic, so he does. Taking a step forward, he thanks his stars he decided to leave the dorm, rain be damned.

“Hi, Nari,” he says, watching her forehead clear just a little bit. “Happy birthday.”

—

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#bts fanfic #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #k-vanity #houseofddaeng #wkcnet #namjoon x oc #seokjin x oc #yoongi x oc #hoseok x oc #jimin x oc #jungkook x oc #taehyung x oc

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