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byeoltoyuki · 4 years

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Release my heart ⇾ Ch.2

↳ Pairing: Jimin x You

❧ Genre : Fluff / Smut / angst / gang au

❧ Warnings : violence, prostitution, mention of drugs, spanking, oral (f), thighs riding, unprotected sex

❧ Words: +11k

❧ Summary: Your world is turned upside down when your father decides to sell you to the infamous gang in order to pay his debts.

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✼

You stared blankly at your reflection in the mirror and you decided that you really didn’t like what you saw. The woman you saw was you and yet your own face, your own body felt foreign to you. You didn’t like how you looked, too much makeup for your liking, and you liked even less the clothes that were chosen for you for your first time, for your first night. You felt exposed, almost naked and cheap. This wasn’t you.

You wore a nightgown. It was sexy there was no doubt about it, but it was provocative too which was obviously the whole point of your new job; you needed to sell your body, needed clients to want you and this piece of clothes was supposed to do the job. And it would, undoubtedly.

The red nightgown was barely covering your body, the split on both sides didn’t help since it showed pretty much everything. Your thighs were completely exposed, so was your ass since the panties did a poor job at covering it. But so were your breasts; the top of the nightgown was fully see-through and to add to the nice effect, a red ribbon circled your breasts. You were a pretty present to men. The only thought of their eyes on you made you shiver in both fear and disgust.

You winced as you applied the red lipstick, the last needed touch on your face. A face that had suffered a lot since your attempt to escape. You didn’t remember who brought you back to this hell hole, but you sure as hell remembered the beating you got for it. Jack showed you no mercy and made sure you learnt your less. And you sure as hell did. Never again you wanted to face Jack’s wrath. If you could call it wrath. From the way he looked at you, cowering on the floor before him, trying to protect yourself, you realized that it was something he enjoyed doing. That night, you made a promise to yourself to never piss Jack again. At least not intentionally.

It was one week ago.

The purple mark on your face had faded a little since, but it was still visible. How exactly were you supposed to look appealing to a man with this? You could only hope that the man would only concentrate on your body and not your face.

A knock at your door made you glanced over your shoulder; Yoojin came inside, bringing presents for you. She remained at the door for a short moment, eying you from head to toe before coming inside your room and closing the door behind her.

The first thing you noticed was the oh so pretty (at least it looked like at that moment) bottle of vodka that you looked at almost with need. Of course, you didn’t want to get drunk but this option didn’t seem that bad considering what was waiting for you.

"I thought you’d need it." She shook the bottle before your eyes. "You look like you need it." And she handed you the bottle.

Without wasting a minute, you opened the bottle and took a sip. Bitter, sharp, burning your throat, just what you needed. "Bless you."

"Don’t mention it."

While you busied yourself with taking sips of vodka (you didn’t want to start feeling dizzy too soon after all), Yoojin checked every detail of your outfit, of your hair, before halting on your face. By the way she looked at you, you guessed she pitied you.

"Don’t." You told her as you averted your eyes from her face to the mirror. "Don’t look at me with pity. Not when you had warned me about escaping."

Yoojin didn’t comment and instead took two other things from her pockets. White powder (you guessed easily what it was) and to your biggest surprise a knife. How did she manage to get a knife, you didn’t know and didn’t want to, but giving it to you was probably a very bad idea.

"I won’t say ‘I told you so’, I think you regret it already enough." Her eyes were glued to your reflection in the mirror, on your bruise. "That won’t do."

Yoojin took the foundation from your hands and started putting some more in order to hide the purple bruise on your cheek. It stung but you refused to show your pain to someone else, even to someone like Yoojin. Instead, you observed her, the frown on her face as she was both concentrated on the work she was doing on your face, and worried.

"Why did you get me a knife?" You finally asked

"I don’t know." She admitted with a sigh. "Maybe I wanted to give you a chance to end things if it gets too overwhelming. I can’t assure you that the man they chose for you is a nice one. Jack wouldn’t tell me."

End things, you shivered at the words. The only mention of this outcome caused your stomach to sink.

✼

You expected Yoojin to be the one to bring you to the room where your torture would start, so when you saw Jack standing proudly, smirking at you, at your door, you paled. What was he doing here?

You had imagined many scenarios for the night to come, and yet, you had never considered the possibility that Jack would be the client for the night. No, there was no way he could be your first client. You refused to believe it for the sake of your own sanity.

Jack eyed you from head to toe, eyes lingering a little longer than acceptable on your exposed thighs before moving to your breasts; he licked his lips before humming in satisfaction. "Red really suits you."

If he expected a reaction from you, he got none.

Jack approached you without a word, his eyes focused on your breasts. He took his hand out of his pocket and grabbed your left breast, giving it a strong squeezed (you wanted to throw up and possibly slap him but you could do neither) before letting it go. He didn’t stop bothering you however, his fingers traced a line from the valley of your breasts to your bare, tender neck.

"What a pity he booked you tonight. I should have done it earlier." He confessed

Your heart leapt into your throat at his confession, imagining all too easily what kind of things he could have done to you if it was him. It was a close call you realized and you almost was thankful to whoever booked you tonight for doing it before Jack could.

Jack sighed, disappointed. "I’ll bring her to the room." Jack addressed Yoojin. "I believe you have work too."

Yoojin rolled her eyes and it was the first time that you saw her openly showing her emotions before Jack which made you wonder what kind of relationship they had. Didn't he dislike people with attitude? But Jack didn't get angry, he only stared darkly at her before averting his attention to you.

"Come on. He doesn't like waiting."

You glanced one last time at Yoojin before following Jack.

The walk to the other room wasn't long, but the tension between you and Jack was so thick you could cut it with a knife. He didn't talk to you and you didn't try either, still wary of what he could do or say to you.

He brought you to a red room. A red damn room that reminded you Christian Grey's secret room. Red walls, wooden furniture, red bed with silky red sheets. It was some kind of bad porn and somehow you were right in the middle of it. But to your surprise, the man that was supposed to be waiting for you wasn’t in the room. You prayed for him to have changed his mind and decide not to see you (but then again another could easily take his place) but that would be too naive of you.

"You better behave." Jack warned you before leaving you alone. "The man is a very important one. Fuck things up with him and you can consider yourself good as dead." And with that he left you.

How comforting.

You felt the cold metal of the knife against your skin. Its presence was disturbing but in a way it was also comforting. Of course, you knew it was a very bad idea; the client could find it even before you had a chance to use it, or you would be too scared to use it.

Because scared, you were. No, terrified. More you waited alone in this red room and more you wanted to run away. From the beginning, you knew you wouldn’t be able to do this job, you weren’t a hooker to begin with, and knowing that a man you had never met before would use you, disgusted you.

What should I do? It was the only question that remained on your mind for the past hour. Yoojin had left you a choice, one that would help you to get the job done without feeling anything, or you could use the knife. But could you really hurt someone willingly? Who were you kidding? You weren’t a killer, not like them.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. This was an endless nightmare.

While you were too immersed in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice a man entering the room. You didn’t see him watching you curiously and you certainly didn’t see him getting closer to you. He put his warm hands on your hips while his lips latched to your exposed neck. The contact of his lips against your skin startled you - you wanted to get as far as possible from him and yet you couldn’t. Despite his grip on your hips being gentle, it was strong too and he held you against him.

"I heard you’re new." He whispered against your skin, his lips travelled from your neck to your lobe, tugging gently at it with his teeth - you shivered in response. "I’ll take good care of you."

Now that didn’t sound so comforting. You clenched your first, your choice made the moment he uttered those words.

You turned in his arms, wanting to see to who belonged the melodic voice but what you saw was far from what you expected. The man before you was ridiculously handsome, to the point you couldn't comprehend what the hell he was doing in a place like this. With a face of a model, he didn't need to go to a brothel to get laid, any women would want a man like him. Black hair, pushed back revealed a perfect forehead, perfect brows, perfect nose, perfect lips and terribly intense eyes. You couldn't help but stare, admiring him even, you completely forgot what you wanted to say.

"Hi." He said amused with your sudden lack of reaction.

You gulped nervously, slapped yourself mentally and tried to regain your composure. There was no time getting distracted. No matter how handsome the man was. He was in this place and this alone should make you question him. Don't get deceived by his looks, Y/N!

"Don't be scared." He gave you a comforting smile, "Let me help you."

You wished he could help you to escape instead of something else but you couldn't possibly tell him that. And would he even believe you if you told him your story? You doubted it.

He walked to the bed and sat, legs spread, watching you expectantly. If only the circumstances were different, you wouldn't hesitate to get on your knees for a man like him, but tonight you had other plans.

You joined him. Standing between his legs, you put your hands on his strong shoulders and pushed him right on the bed and straddled him. He didn’t say a word, observing your every move. He put his hands on your hips, stroking your exposed skin, gently, drawing invisible circles. It almost distracted you from your plan. Almost. You bit on your lips and maybe for him it looked sexy but in reality you were just trying to gather your courage.

"Why did they hit you?" He took you off guard with question. He reached for your face with his hand, rubbing softly the bruise that was supposed to be hidden and yet he saw right through it.

You froze right on top of him and looked at him. Why must he look so concerned? So gentle? He made it hard for you.

"I deserved it." You simply answered (you couldn’t possibly tell the truth) and straightened up on top of him, hands splayed across his chest to steady yourself. "It doesn’t matter."

"Are you sure you deserved it?"

You didn’t want to talk about it. To distract him, you started grinding, slowly, but it did it work - he stopped asking questions and instead let a low growl out of his mouth. It was a risky game; he was getting turned on as you felt him hardening under you, but it didn’t mean it left you completely indifferent. There was no way you could ignore your own body’s reaction; you were all too aware of how wet you were getting.

Do it now, Y/N.

He was completely distracted, charmed by you. He closed his eyes to enjoy the friction - he pushed on your hips, pressing you harder against his bulge and you had to bite on your lips to prevent a very unwelcome moan that threaten to leave your lips.

You leant closer, lips barely touching and just when he thought you would finally kiss him, you took out the knife and brought it right against his throat.

"Sorry buddy, not gonna happen." You tried to sound composed, fearless but your hands betrayed you, shaking as you threatened him.

He snapped his eyes open and you expected him to be at least a little bit surprised. He wasn’t. He simply looked at you, unfazed, before chuckling. "So this is what the knife was for."

You froze at his words. He knew. He saw the knife from the moment he stepped into the room and yet (and you couldn’t comprehend) he hadn’t said a word. Was he testing you? Was he trying to see what you were made of?

"I did hear you are a rather feisty one."

"Shut up!" He sounded just like Jack and you didn’t like it.

"Or what?"

In fact you had no idea what you were going to do.

He took advantage of your silence and the moment of hesitation to grab your hand, the one holding a knife, to press it much harder against his skin. It freaked you out. Just a little more and you would pierce his skin. It was obviously your intention and yet his action gave you the goosebumps. How could he act so carelessly?

"Nice try, love." His voice sounded soft and so pleasing to the ears, but there was a hint of mockery behind his words.

"Shut up!"

"You’re not a killer." He pressed your hand harder, piercing this time his own skin.

At the sight of blood, you jolted and threw the knife away. He, on the other hand, smirked and with a simple move of his hips, you found yourself pinned under him. One leg between your thighs, hands pinning your wrist above your head. You were left powerless and sweating in fear.

"Did you really think it would work?"

He was mocking your lack of wits - you refused to answer but he had none of it. He grabbed your chin, his grip tight as he forced you to look at him. "Thought so." He stroked your lips with his thumb, rubbing gently before forcing your lips to part and slid his thumb between your lips. "So pretty."

Save me, you shut your eyes tightly, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes.

"I’m suddenly glad your father offered you as a payment."

This made you snap from your trance. How dared he say that? This time, angry tears were rolling down your cheeks. You felt powerless in this situation, a situation that seemed to amuse the man on top of you.

"Are you angry love?"

So infuriating! Furious, you spit on his face, startling him with your action. He let go of your wrist for a moment, his hand wiping away your spit from his face. His eyes darted back and forth between his wet hand and you. He had to give it to you; you were interesting. Despite being petrified, you had the guts to oppose him. He was impressed.

"I guess, you are angry." He laughed, a laugh so cold that it froze your blood. "But," and before you could fight back, he was pinning you back with his whole body; a hand squeezing your cheeks he stared right into your eyes. "The faster you accept your new reality, the better it will be for you, you know?"

You shook your head, trying to get rid of his grip, in vain. "Are you really asking me to accept sleeping around with people I don’t know?"

"It can be fun you know!"

"You’re disgusting."

"Now that’s a lie and we both know it."

Yes but you would rather die than admit it to him.

He laughed at your stubbornness. There was something about you, different, quite refreshing. You weren’t the first newbie he welcomed in this place, but you were certainly the first to threaten him with a knife (he noted to himself to find out who gave it to you later). Smirking proudly, he didn’t resist the urge to indulge in at least one of his wishes: he kissed you.

"Stay here for the night. They won’t bother you."

And with that he let go of you and started walking towards the door.

"Who are you?"

He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "Right. Rude of me. I’m Park Jimin."

✼

"Come on sleepy head, wake up." Yoojin nudged your arm gently trying to wake you up from a rather pleasant dream. You dreamt about a nice brunch at your flat along with your friends, laughing, joking around. Nice dream but sadly, it was time for you to crack your eyes open and to meet Yoojin’s friendly face.

Yoojin sat on the bed beside you, glancing around before her eyes were back on you. She frowned noticing that you were still wearing your nightgown and that you didn’t look as messy as you were supposed to.

"What time is it?" You asked and stretched in the bed. You could mock the room all you wanted but the bed was damn comfortable, way more comfortable than in the room they gave you and even more comfortable than the bed at your place.

"Five in the morning." She replied automatically, her frown growing. "How did it go?"

Right. Jimin’s face popped in your mind at the question. Biting your lips, you wondered who he was and why was he almost nice to you when he had paid for you. "Weird."

"Weird how?"

You sighed and brought your knees closer to your body, wrapping your arms around them you looked at her. "He didn’t try anything." You weren’t completely sure how you could describe Jimin’s behavior. Nice wouldn’t be the right word considering how infuriating he got and how hurtful his words had been. However, he was nothing like you had imagined your first client to be. "He was hot and out of place and was kind of a dick to me. But he was I guess not so bad? I don’t know how to define him to be honest."

"Weird indeed." Yoojin approved before pondering on the question. After working for so long in this place, she knew almost all the clients and none of them fit your description. Some of course were nice in their own way but none of them would leave without getting something in return. It didn’t make sense and it bothered Yoojin. "Did you get his name?"

"Yeah. Park Jimin."

Yoojin turned her head in slow motion to look at you, her face paler than usual which meant nothing good for you, you believed. "What? I don’t like how you’re looking at me right now. Do you know him?"

"Park Jimin?" She repeated, biting on her lips, looking awfully troubled with your words.

"Yes. You know him, don’t you?"

"I do." She nodded her head, "But are you really sure it was Park Jimin?"

"Yes!"

"Black hair, plump lips, model-like looks?"

"Okay, you’re freaking me out. Yes, the description fit him." You were ready to pounce at her and shake her like a tree so she would stop asking question and would finally tell you who exactly he was. "Should I worry?"

"He’s the big boss." Yoojin confessed

Oh.

Oh shit. No wonder nobody dared to disturb your sleep after he had left you alone in the room. Who would go against an order from the big boss himself? You felt even dumber for threatening him with your tiny knife. You probably looked like a joke to him but threatening the boss meant so much more trouble for you to come. You’re so stupid Y/N.

All you could do was to laugh.

"What’s so funny?"

"Oh nothing." You managed to say between two laugh, "Except I tried to kill your boss."

✼

Maybe trying to kill your boss was a very bad idea. And just maybe, for a short moment you regretted your stupid choice. What were you thinking? Even if the one you tried to kill wasn’t Jimin, what would it have changed? Nobody could help you to get out of this place. Yet.

Now you were left alone, pacing around in your room and biting on your fingernails, anxious and heart ready to explode with all this pressure. Ever since you got back to your room, you couldn’t go back to sleep, your brain playing over and over again the encounter with Jimin. You prayed for him to be nice enough and not tell Jack about what happened; praying that you wouldn’t have to deal with another beating. Praying was the only thing you could do while waiting for your sentence.

"He can’t be worse than Jack, can he?" You wondered out loud, stopping in the middle of your room. You didn’t want to think about the worst case scenario but it was hard not to.

Speaking of the devil, Jack entered your room without knocking, startling you in the process. He looked at you with a raised brow, surprised to see you up - but he didn’t comment. You, on the other hand, felt a huge wave of panic raising inside you. And yet, the moment you had a proper look at him, you couldn’t stop the gasp that left your mouth.

"The hell happened to your face?!" You half-yelled, forgetting for a second that this man was your worst nightmare and that his presence in your room only meant trouble.

"Nothing." He quickly dismissed your question.

Yeah sure, whatever floats your boat, you wanted to say but decided for the sake of your body not to test his patience. You waited for him to speak or maybe to yell at you or mock you, you weren’t really sure. But to your utter surprise, Jack didn’t say a thing, he simply stared at you, judging you - but for what? You didn’t know and weren’t sure you wanted to.

"Is there something on my face?" You asked and instantly slapped yourself mentally. Of course there was something on your face, for example the bruise that mirrored his own. Except his looked way much worse which made you wonder what happened to him in a space of few hours only.

"I don’t get it." Jack finally declared with a long and exasperated sigh. More he looked at you and less he understood Jimin’s decision. There was absolutely nothing special about you, in his opinion at least. Yes, you were a pretty girl, yes you were feisty and witted (what could become a problem later, but apart from that, he didn’t understand.

"Can you be more specific?"

"Jimin asked to see you right now."

Oh. Was it a good, you weren’t so sure. But seeing how Jack was speaking to you, you realized that maybe he wasn’t here to beat the crap out of you after all, maybe he wasn’t even aware of what you had done - it was somehow comforting. But why would Jimin want to see you again?

"Why?" You said more to yourself than to him.

"Exactly my point." He groaned and ruffled his hair in frustration. "What did you do to impress him so much?"

You hesitated between lying and telling him the truth. You chose the latter. "Actually, nothing."

Jack blinked, confused. "Nothing?" It seemed unlikely to him. He knew his boss and he had a hard time believing that he wouldn’t try something with a newbie. "Nothing at all?"

"Nothing exciting." You confirmed

"No?"

"Except if talking for you is exciting." There was one thing exciting about that night but you couldn’t possibly tell him, mainly because you didn’t know how he would react.

✼

On your way to Jimin’s office, Jack kept glancing at you, nervous clearly which didn’t help to sooth your poor nerves. You believed, it wasn’t a very good sign that Jimin ordered to see you. What if he wanted to punish you himself? And what kind of punishment? Better not to think about it.

Jack brought you to the highest floor of the building which made you wonder just how big this place actually was. You didn’t have a chance to see it from outside, but from inside it was already huge. You knew for instance that the bar was underground. The rooms where you and the rest of the girls stayed were on the second and third floor - lowest level and lowest level in ranks you guessed.

Jack knocked at the door, he looked too anxious, hand shaking as he waited for a reply.

"Come in."

Your body reacted first, jolting at the sound of his familiar sweet voice (that didn’t sound so sweet anymore but maybe it was just your imagination). You followed Jack inside but stayed far behind him, hiding the best you could from Jimin’s eyes. You looked everywhere but at him. And what a sight!

Jimin’s office was big, luxurious and quite comfortable too. Huge wooden desk by the window, wooden bookshelves that covered a big part of the walls. A black leather couch in the middle of the room along with two leather armchairs, a wooden coffee table and a beige rug (which looked nice and soft but you bet if anything bad happened in this room it would be a pain in the ass to clean). All in all, Jimin had great taste.

"You can leave us." Jimin ordered and Jack gladly obliged, all too eager to leave the room. Then, Jimin’s attention was fully on you. Jimin observed you from behind his desk, amused that you refused to meet his eyes.

"Are you nervous, Y/N?" He asked despite knowing already the answer.

"Should I?" You asked instead, still not looking at him, you found the rug particularly interesting.

"Look at me when I’m talking to you."

You averted your eyes from the floor and looked at him. Jimin was smirking, enjoying a little too much your sudden obedience.

"I presume you know who I am."

"I do."

Jimin left his place and walked towards you, hands in his pocket, he looked just as good as in your memories except this time his eyes were dark and you were fully aware of how dangerous he actually was.

Your body moved on its own once more, taking a step back as he got closer to you. You were so close to turn your back and run away as fast as you could; an attempt that would lead you to even more trouble but Jimin’s presence was overwhelming.

He stopped right in front of you, too close for your liking. "You’re scared."

Of course you were. What did he think?

"Are you going to kill me?" You finally dared to ask the question that was haunting you ever since your learnt his identity.

"Kill you? Why would I kill you, Y/N?" He reached out a hand and touched your cheek - you flinched, unable to control yourself. "I paid for you, remember?"

You didn’t like how he and Jack sounded alike, talking about you as if you were a thing, a toy to play with and not a human being. It annoyed you to no end - you slapped his hand and glared angrily at him.

And here you thought Jack was bad.

Jimin was taken aback with your daring behavior (it was a second time now and he didn’t want it to become a habit) and if it was someone else he would have punched the person. It amused him to see that despite being scared of him, you managed to get over it as soon as he mentioned some sensitive topics. It should have annoyed him, he didn’t have time for those games and yet he found himself wishing to find out more about you. He wanted to push you and see how far you could endure.

Without a warning he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you closer, grabbing a fist of your hair he made you look at him. Jimin’s face was so close to yours, his warm breath ghosting over your lips. His eyes darted back and forth between your eyes and your lips.

"Let’s make things clear, Y/N." He almost growled at you, his voice low and rough. "You’re now working for me and you have absolutely no saying in that. You can resist all you want but I can promise you that you won’t like the consequences. Am I making myself clear?"

Asshole, you thought. "Yes."

"Yes what?

He pulled at your hair and you winced - you closed your eyes for a second, refusing to let the tears spill. "Yes sir."

"Good girl." He hummed in satisfaction. "Play by my rules and no real harm would be done to you."

Jimin let go of you. You hurried to put some space between you two in case he would try something else.

He didn’t.

Don’t judge a book by its cover they say. It worked so well for Park Jimin. With his looks, he deceived you and you fell right in his trap.

✼

Two days.

You hadn’t seen or heard from Jimin or even from Jack for two whole days. You weren’t complaining. While they stayed away and more importantly left you by yourself, without asking to work, it left you time to think.

Obviously, this whole situation didn’t please you; you still wanted to leave. But you weren’t stupid and you learnt your lesson. No, running away was not for today or tomorrow. But you believed it was possible. It would require a lot of patience, of wits, of strategy and above all you needed to accept to sell your body.

You felt sick to the stomach but you needed to be strong, you needed to hope in order to survive. They would need to get more creative if they wanted you to crack.

You plopped down on your bed, tired but determined to make it work. Tonight was the night, you decided.

✼✼✼

When someone knocked at your door, you supposed it would be Yoojin since she was the only one in this place bothering to knock. Instead, you were met with a man whose face seemed familiar and yet you couldn’t pinpoint from where.

He stood stiff, awfully awkwardly, his eyes looking everywhere but at you which made you raise a brow at him. It was a first; someone was actually nervous around you. Before you could ask him who he was and what he wanted, he handed you a bag, shoving it almost in your arms. Clearly, he wanted to be far from you and you didn’t know why.

"You’re expected tonight. Wear what’s inside." He blurted out

"Was about time." You mumbled to yourself. There was definitely something fishy about them not making you work for two days. But then again, maybe Jimin decided to give you time to think. Unlikely.

"I-Ehrm" He stuttered, "Yoojin will help you." And with that he ran away. Literally.

You stood at your door, tilting your head to the side, you really didn’t understand where this sudden nervousness came from. Why would someone be afraid of you?

"What a weirdo."

Closing the door, you took few steps before checking what was inside the bag. You presumed it would contain another too provocative nightgown, however what you found inside was a dress , a pair of black high heels and a note. You took them out of the bag but your eyes kept glued to the note.

"I’m sure it’ll look good on you. Show me what you can do. - Jimin."

An exaggerated sigh escaped your mouth. No pressure. At all.

The dress, Jimin had chosen for you, was black and short. Extremely short, to the point you were sure everybody would see your ass. The dress was sleeveless, plain but with a nice touch of lace on the back, making it see through. If only it was longer, you would have truly loved it.

✼

"Where are we going?" You asked Yoojin as she led you through halls and stairs that were unfamiliar too. Weren’t you supposed to work tonight? Wouldn’t she bring you back to the stupid red room?

"Last time, you were brought straight to the room but usually we first meet in the club, it’s right under the building."

"So this place isn’t really a brothel."

"No. It’s hidden and only elites know about this place."

"So your clients are usually rich, influential old geezers?" You hoped not.

Yoojin chuckled at that as you got inside the lift. "Some. But not all of them. Some are even cute."

You had a hard time to believe that. You crossed your arms over your chest, judging her. "With some weird kinks, I’m sure."

"No." Yoojin first replied, but then, seeing your unconvinced face made her reconsider her answer. "Fine. Some do have weird kinks. But hey, no kink shaming in this place."

You rolled your eyes but agreed silently. "So. How does it work?"

"Depends. It will be different for you. I usually see the same men. But for you, I suppose Jack will introduce you to some and from there we’ll see who will ask for you."

"Then I hope they won’t like me."

Yoojin eyed you from head to toe before laughing at you. "Yeah, you can hope but it won’t happen."

✼

The moment you stepped in the club, you were particularly surprised by its size. Other the fact that it was underground, it was huge, luxurious, loud. Instead of having a dance floor, there was a bar. Couches were all around the places with men wearing expensive clothes (no doubt, they were the elite Yoojin was talking about), young, old, she was right. Women were either already sitting on some men’s laps or were dancing for some. But what grabbed your attention almost instantly was the area at the back: Jimin was here with a girl sitting on his laps, laughing, touching him while he drank whiskey.

"Why is he here?" You mumbled more to yourself than to someone in particular but Yoojin heard you and knew right away who you were talking about.

"He comes often. Mainly to see his favorite toy." By the way Yoojin said the word ‘toy’, you realized whoever she was talking about was someone she didn’t like. More like she hated this person.

"But I don’t see her." She finished, glancing all around the place.

You were about to ask her some more questions, she awoke your curiosity after all, but before you could do it, your eyes met Jimin’s and suddenly your questions didn’t matter anymore. He was looking back at you, ignoring completely the girl on his laps, instead he licked his lips, thumb rubbing the edge of his glass.

Shit. His sight should have annoyed you, made you angry even, after all you were forced to be in this place not only because of your father but because of this man too, but instead you found yourself checking him up.

"Y/N?" Yoojin waved her hand before your eyes to interrupt your staring contest with Jimin.

You averted your eyes from Jimin to look at a very disapproving Yoojin, she wasn’t approving the little game that you were playing. "What."

She shook her head. "Follow me, you’ll need a drink."

A drink could be some good, you agreed. You followed to the impressive bar in the middle of the room. Some men turned their head on your way, checking you out. You ignored their stares, clenching your fists you tried not to show how their eyes on you bothered you. You reminded yourself what you were here for but it wasn’t a big help.

"Hey Myungsoo, two shots of vodka please." Yoojin asked the cute barman.

The so called Myungsoo did his job right away, handing you the shooters before winking playfully at you. You had to admit that to see some friendly faces in this place was somehow comforting.

"I suppose you’re the new girl?" Myungsoo asked knowing already the answer.

"Y/N." You simply answered and grabbed the shooter, emptying it in one go.

He whistled, impressed and filled your shooter right away. "I like her."

"Too bad she’s not for you." Yoojin pointed her shooter at him. "You’re too poor."

He put his hand over his chest, feigning hurt. "You’re breaking my heart sweet Yoojin." Then, he looked at you. "Don’t become like her please."

You actually laughed at their antics. Maybe, just maybe, you could make some friends in this shit hole after all.

Holding your second shooter of vodka you turned your back to the counter and leaned back against it, watching the people around you before your eyes couldn’t stop themselves but wander to Jimin. You expected him to go back to his business with the girl, instead he was now alone and watching you. You quirked a brow at him, wondering what he was doing.

But maybe staring at him for so long wasn’t your brightest idea. You were supposed to show him tonight that you accepted your fate and would work for him and yet here you were, drinking and looking at him.

You licked your lips, eyes still on him, before emptying your shooter. His face twitched and a frown formed on his face.

"Stop." Yoojin scolded you. "Don’t provoke him."

You batted your lashes innocently at her, feigning not understanding her when in fact she was perfectly right. You were provoking him. Why, you didn’t know yourself, or maybe you wanted to prove him something.

"He’s not someone you should mess with."

"Yeah. I noticed."

"Y/N."

You ignored her. Not because she was nagging at you. Hell, she was the only person in this hell hole who was actually nice to you, but it was time to work and you had an idea of what you would do to get yourself your first client. You winked at her as you took off your high heels that were killing your feet and would get in your way.

"What are you-" She started saying but stopped right in the middle as you got on top of the bar counter, attracting already some attention as you did so.

"Hey Myungsoo, do you mind moving some bottles-"

"And change the music?" He finished for you, guessing immediately what you were about to do. "You better do as good as in Coyotte Girl."

"But a more sluttier version right?"

He laughed at that and followed your request right away. The music got louder which made people look around, feeling like something was about to happen but they didn’t know what.

Yoojin, however, understood. She shook her head in amusement. She stepped back to let some men take her spot, crossed her arms over her chest and waited patiently for the show to begin.

Dancing on a counter wasn’t your first time. Back in college, whenever some parties got too wild you would join your friends on the counter and would dance, sometimes just for the sake of dancing and being seen and sometimes to get yourself a guy for the night. But you never had to dance wearing a tight dress that shower pretty much everything.

As the music played, you took few steps, swinging your hips, you passed by Myungsoo who gave you a reassuring smile - whenever he was sincere or not it didn’t matter because it still gave you the push you needed to lose yourself.

Your body moved with the flow of the music; you forgot all about the place you were, you forgot about the people gawking at you. Instead, you imagined being back at one of those wild parties.

While you danced, some gathered around, admiring closely how you moved your body, trying to reach for you. If at first, it almost broke your concentration, you remembered quickly why you were doing it in the first place. So you played with them. You approached one who looked like the calmest and almost out of place, just like you. You smiled at him, as innocently as you could, before sliding easily from the counter to get to him.

At first, you brushed his arm with your fingertips, liking how he shuddered with just a light touch. then, you got bolder, getting closer to him, turning your back to him, you pressed yourself harder against him, grinding shamelessly against him. You felt his bulge right against your ass - he put his hands on your hips, hesitant but you helped him by grabbing his hands and putting them on you.

Turning around in his arms, you smiled sweetly until someone else grabbed your attention. Jimin was no longer at his place, instead he stood behind Yoojin. He held his drink tightly, knuckles turning white as he stared at you, eyes darker than ever. He looked intimidating and you would have cowered before him if it wasn’t for the man holding you. No, you wouldn’t let him scare you this time.

You pecked the young man’s lips, thanking him (you weren’t sure for what) before leaving him. When you looked back at Yoojin, Jimin was gone. You ignored the uneasy feeling and joined Yoojin.

"How was it?" You asked, willing to hear any comments, critics. It was your first time after all.

"It got their attention." She shrugged nonchalantly but she kept smiling. "You did a good job."

And you couldn’t help but smile back.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Jack interrupted you, clapping his hands. "That was very interesting."

Despite it being a compliment (at least it sounded like one but you couldn’t know for sure with Jack), you decided not to comment.

"The guy you danced for, I’m sure he’d want to book you." Jack ignored your silent treatment, unfazed.

Good, you thought. At least he looked like a decent guy. Well, as decent as this place allowed to be.

"But sadly for him, someone else already asked for you." He cut short to your trail of thoughts.

Yoojin frowned beside you while you were left speechless.

"Who?"

"You’ll see."

"Please tell me it’s not Jimin." You didn’t mind having him watching you but you weren’t sure you would be able to handle him in private a second time.

Jack laughed. "It’s not Jimin. But I’m not sure he’s any better."

"Wonderful."

✼

Jack told you it wasn’t Jimin who asked for you and yet the moment you got inside the room, only one thought lingered in your mind: either Jimin had a long lost twin or Jack lied. Probably the latter.

"Not Jimin my ass." You mumbled to yourself as you got inside the room, only to be met with no other than Park Jimin, sitting on the bed and watching you with a smirk. "What are you doing here, Jimin?"

You closed the door behind you with a sigh. You were determined to follow your plan but Jimin’s presence shattered your resolution. Of course, he was good looking and tempting but you knew what he was and you couldn’t forget his words. Would you be able to ignore your anger and please him? You doubted.

"You surprised me, Y/N." Jimin confessed as he got back on his feet and approached you. "I enjoyed your little show."

Yeah you looked pissed as hell. You chose not to comment.

Jimin reached out his hand and moved a strand of your hair behind your ear. His eyes were on your face, watching your reaction (or lack of it); he seemed different from back at the club. Less angry, eyes more gentle. It was quite unsettling.

"Are you going to be good, Y/N?"

Tempted to say no, you decided not to act on your emotions, instead you grabbed him by the collar, grip tight around it, eyes on him. You wanted him to stop talking and get over with it – you pulled at him harshly, forcing him at your level, you crushed your mouth to his. Jimin chuckled at your sudden eagerness, knowing all too well how you truly felt about your situation but he admired your determination.

Wrapping his arms around you, he brought you even closer to him, leaving absolutely no space between your bodies. He deepened the kiss, tongue sliding easily between your parted lips as his hands moved from your back to your ass – he gave it a strong squeeze and you couldn’t stop moaning into the kiss. He sure knew how to make a woman go weak for him. You were no exception.

Jimin’s lips felt divine against yours, you had to admit it to yourself at least. Despite you kissing only to shut him up, Jimin had turned it into something more. His lips, his tongue dancing with yours, it was slow and gentler than you expected. He made you feel things you didn’t want to feel in a place like this.

‘It can be fun.’ He told you once. He was right but it didn’t make it easier.

“Let me take care of you.” His request sounded like a plead; his forehead pressed against yours, you were both left breathless, panting, dizzy and yet wanting more.

Best word to describe Jimin? Tempting.

You closed your eyes, pondering over his words. It was too damn tempting and yet so dangerous. “Stop.” He was being too much, acting all sweet. “Don’t act all sweet.”

“Why not?” He asked genuinely confused. Wasn’t it after all what you wanted? What you preferred?

“Because we both know that tomorrow you’ll be back to your old self and I can’t handle it.”

Jimin closed his eyes for a short moment; he understood what you were trying to say but he couldn’t stop himself. You were a temptation, a sweet sin he wanted to indulge himself in. He couldn’t ignore those pretty big eyes nor could he resist it.

When he opened his eyes again, he pecked your lips. “You’re right. But I can’t help it. You bring out the soft side of me.” He lifted you from the floor and you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. Jimin looked with fondness at you. “Must be your pretty eyes.” And he kissed them. “Or those pretty lips.”

You were left speechless with his gentleness. You let him carry you to the bed, unable to speak, unable to think straight, you were lost in his eyes, with his soft kisses. Your heart raced, excited, overwhelmed – park Jimin was a dangerous man for your poor heart.

Jimin dropped you on the bed. You were all too aware of what was going to happen tonight but instead of shivering in fear, you found yourself actually wishing to see what Jimin could do to you. It was pure madness and probably you would feel guilty about it in the morning but now? You couldn’t ignore the handsome man standing by the bed, looking at you with so much lust and hunger in his eyes. He wanted you, all of you and for tonight you were willing to give it to him.

Biting on your lips, you shoved the little voice in your head in a mental locker, making sure it wouldn’t disturb you for the night. To hell the consequences. To hell this place. Tonight, you wanted to make it all about yourself and this man.

Without breaking the eye contact, Jimin got on the bed, crawling slowly to get to your feet. He grabbed your right ankle, his hand feeling hotter than ever against your skin, as he pulled at it, bringing you closer to him. He put his hands on your knees, gently parting them to make room for him – you let him do it.

“Should I worry?” He smiled, hands stroking your knees with feather like touches.

“About what?”

“You being so calm and obedient?”

In response, you playfully kicked his thigh with your knee which only made him laugh. “Here, I’m not obedient. Happy?”

Jimin pinched your skin right under your right knee, shaking his head in half disapproval and half amusement. “Better.”

You waited for his next move, expectantly, heart beating even faster as his eyes darkened and he lowered himself to the level of your knees. Jimin pressed first his cheek to your knee, eyes still on you, staring right into your soul. You were completely captivated, under his spell, your breath hitched in your throat and then he pressed his lips to your knee, kissing it once, twice. It felt too intimate, leaving you breathless and begging silently for more. And more he gave you.

Jimin’s lips travelled from your knee to your thigh. He took it slow, covering every inch of your exposed skin with kisses, biting your tender flesh here and there, making sure to leave marks on your body. His lips explored your body, drawing an invisible map on your skin. He hiked your dress up, exposing your now completely ruined panties. Instead of taking them off, he smirked and bit right at the curve of your hipbone – an almost inaudible moan escaped your lips as you arched your back at the sting. Jimin was having his way with you, going slow just to rile you up, pushing all your buttons to see how long it would take you to actually beg him to take you. Maybe, if you weren’t already so needy, you would have realized it.

“Jimin.” You looked at him upset and yet pleading him with your eyes.

“What is it?” He hummed, his warm breath hitting your covered heat. You felt it, whining, wanting more, wanting to feel those plump lips on you. Jimin understood it but wanted to play more. He hovered over you, smirking. “You want something?”

You bit on your lips “Touch me.”

“And what exactly am I doing?” He attacked your neck, peppering it with kisses to distract you from whatever you were trying to say.

“Not enough.” You tried to sound upset but your body betrayed you by shivering as he bit on your collarbone.

“Hm, aren’t you the one who supposed to be pleasing me?”

You little shit. Got me all bothered only to change your mind! You almost wanted to punch him. Instead, you grabbed his forearms that felt incredibly firm under your palms, and with a strong and swift move of your hips you switched positions. Jimin was now laying under you, looking amused and pleased with your sudden reaction.

“You’re so infuriating!” You complained, “I hope you know that.”

“Usually, they cower in fear before me and beg for mercy.” He replied smugly and gave your ass a nice slap.

You jolted at the spank before rolling your eyes at him and choosing not to answer his provocation. No matter how tempting it was. You grabbed his belt, struggling to get rid of it as you were in rush. You threw it on the floor, then you tug at both his jeans and boxers, exposing his body. You were curious to see if his body was just as good as his face.

Sadly, it was.

Mouth watering, you let your hands wander on his legs, halting on his impressive, strong thighs; you let your hands feel his muscles that tensed under your touch. Jimin really didn’t disappoint. But then, your eyes fell on his cock. Pretty cock. Half hard, waiting for you. You licked your lips, imaging just how good his cock would stretch you.

"Like what you see?" Jimin’s voice interrupted your contemplation. "It’s all yours."

You chose not to respond and got back on top of him, sitting right on top of his throbbing cock that wanted all your attention. Soon. There was still one unsatisfying thing: this stupid half opened shirt. Mercilessly you ripped/torn the shirt, buttons flying in all directions.

Yes, Jimin was perfect from head to toe. How fair was that?

You ran your hands across his toned chest, like how warm, soft and firm his skin felt.

"Hm, I think you really like what you see."

"I haven't decided yet."

"Liar." He dug his fingers into your skin but it didn't bother you, quite the contrary, you liked the slight burning sensation that it brought.

"Don't think so."

You cupped his face between your hands and captured his lips, making sure he wouldn't make any more unwanted comments. You had found a very nice way (for both of you) to shut him up. At least it was what you told yourself when in fact you just wanted to kiss him again.

Kissing Jimin was like kissing fire. Hot, dangerous, intoxicating and terribly addicting. He kissed you back just as eagerly, just as needy.

Jimin grabbed the edge of your dress and pulled it over your head, breaking the kiss (only for a second but a second that seemed like eternity), freeing your body. The fresh air of the room hit your skin that was set on fire with just his touches, with just his lustful gaze. You shivered and pressed yourself harder against him, wanting to feel more of his warmth.

"Jimin." You mewled against his lips, "Please touch me."

Jimin actually obeyed (only because he couldn't stop himself anymore). He reached for your breasts and God they were so perfect, perfect size for his hands. You were a nice addition to his girls, he knew it from the start, but seeing you naked on top of him, lips beautifully swollen, hair messy, pupils blown, he found you beyond gorgeous. And he didn't feel like sharing you with any other man. With this thought on mind, Jimin shifted under you, now sitting, he captured one nipple between his plump lips, sucking, flicking his tongue over it. You arched your back, hands immediately latching on his soft hair, pulling his face even closer to your chest.

"Shit." You moaned, slowly losing yourself. "Jimin."

"Mmh?" He hummed and bit lightly your nipple earning this time a moan much more louder.

As you moaned for him, you felt his cock twitching under you. The only thing that still separated you from him was your pretty much ruined with your arousal panties.

"I want you." You admitted

Jimin smiled against your skin, lips travelings from the valley of your breasts to your neck, kissing your delicate flesh, nipping at it, leaving more marks on you.

"Mine." The first 'mine was a whisper but followed by a bite. "I won't let anybody have you." And here came another bite. "Mine." He whispered to your ear. "My beautiful girl, let me ruin."

"Jimin!" You whined, his words echoing in your head, affecting you so badly. Simple words that sent a shock of arousal between your legs.

Maybe if you weren't feeling so light-headed you would have got mad over his possessiveness but now you were too needy. You didn't know whenever he really meant his words or if he too was lost in his own pleasure - it didn't matter anymore.

With little strength that was left in you, you pushed him from you, only to slid your hand in between your bodies and grabbed his cock. Giving him few pumps, you led him to your heat, pushing your panties to the side, you coated him with some more of your arousal. The tip brushed lightly your clit but it was enough to make you gasp and shudder at the feeling. God, you couldn't wait any longer. Your body was craving him just as badly as your mind.

"Baby." Jimin groaned as his hands found your hips right away, fingers digging into your skin.

Inch by inch, you guided him inside you, relishing in the feeling. His cock stretched you nice and good, filling you slowly. You bit your lips, trying desperately to control your body, control your shaking. You held Jimin's arms to support yourself as you completely sank down on him, your pussy taking all of him.

You both groaned.

"You're so tight." His hands moved to your ass, kneading it before giving a harsh slap - you cried out his name and clenched around him.

You weren't sure what made you lose your mind. Was it his hands? Was it his cock that filled you to the brim? Or was it his sexy growls? Either way, you couldn't think straight and you couldn't hold back your moans.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you leant to claim his lips. You lifted yourself till only the tip of his cock was still inside before lowering yourself back. More deeper, more stronger.

"You feel so good." You mewled as you started moving.

At first, you set a slow, delicious yet torturous pace. With every move, you felt him reaching deeper inside you, hitting all the right places. You moaned softly, face pressed against his shoulder.

"Jimin." You breathed, "God, you feel so so good."

Jimin, on the other hand, had to fight back the urge to take control over your hips, wanting to thrust harder and faster. He wanted to completely owe you. His grip, instead, on your hips tightened as you clenched again around him. He was slowly losing it, drowning in pure pleasure; your soft whimpers, your wetness and tightness was driving him mad.

"Shit Y/N, faster." Jimin growled

And you obeyed willingly; moving faster now but still not enough for Jimin's liking. He pulled at your hips, making you move to the pace he wanted.

"Jimin!" You gasped as a particular strong thrust made you throw your head back and close your eyes in pure bliss. You knew that if Jimin kept this pace you wouldn't last. There was no way you could.

"You're so good for me, baby girl." He praised you, peppering your face with kisses.

"Do you want to cum, love?"

"Yes." Your voice came out weak and desperate.

Jimin smacked your ass, hard. "Louder."

"Yes!" You cried out, desperately holding on his shoulders. "Yes Jimin. Please!"

"Such a nice girl." A praise that didn't match his doing - he smacked your ass once, twice, you stopped counting and it didn't matter. You were so close, walls tightening around him until you felt it. A shattering release. Your walls convulsed around him, unable to stop, coating his cock with your release.

"So pretty." Jimin coed at you

He stopped moving, letting you come down from your high. His hands were now splayed across your back, caressing your skin, soothing your body. "And all for me."

You heard him and yet his voice wounded far from you. You tried to gather your thoughts, to concentrate on his voice but your mind was clouded with pleasure.

Jimin brushed his lips against yours, slowly resuming his thrusts, seeking for his own release. You whined against him, body too sensitive after coming so hard. You wanted to push him away, to let you a moment but one look at his handsomely fucked up face was enough to silence you. You let him used you as he wanted.

He was close and now that you looked like a mess, lips beautifully swollen, teary eyes and all sensitive, he couldn't hold any longer. With a loud and animalistic groan, he poured himself into you.

None of you moved, you stayed on top of him, head pressed to his shoulder, panting you tried to calm your aching body without much success. Jimin chuckled, without you understanding why, but his arms circled your body and he pressed you closer to his chest. He buried his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

"You're okay?" He asked, voice gentle, soft, such a contrast after all his growls.

Unable to find your voice, you only nodded your head and looked at him. You couldn't think Jimin could look any hotter but he did. His sweating face, wet hair sticking to his eyes you couldn't refrain yourself from moving strands of hair from his eyes. He didn't look that intimidating anymore. And yet.

You rolled to the side, plopping on the bed beside him, resting on your stomach, eying him from the corner of your eyes, curious at what would happen next. You showed him that you could do this job (even if deep inside you knew you couldn't, Jimin was the exception) but you had no clue what to expect next.

Noticing your staring, Jimin laid facing you, raising a brow at you, he smiled. "What?"

"Mmh." You hummed, hesitating. "What's now?"

Your mind was now much clearer, reminding you of the words he said, reminding you of how possessive over you Jimin got. But did he mean it? And could you accept to be his? I can deal with him, you told yourself.

"How about we rest?" He pretended not understanding.

You huffed and turned your face to the other side, refusing to meet his eyes since he wanted to play coy with you. But your attempt to sulk didn't quite work on him, instead, Jimin pulled at your arm and rolled you on your back before getting on top of you.

"I know what you're trying to do." He told you, eyes twinkling in amusement.

"I-And what exactly am I trying to do?" You slapped yourself mentally for stuttering. If you wanted to show him that two could play this game you needed to toughen up and not lose to his dark eyes.

"You," Jimin grasped your chin, tilting it up he looked delighted with this game, "Are trying to drive me crazy." That wasn’t what he was planning to say but seeing your annoyed expression was just too fun.

"Now, that sounds like something you are trying to do. Not me." You objected

Jimin laughed heartily at that. "Maybe." He pecked your lips once, twice. Biting gently your lower lip, you wondered what made him suddenly so playful.

"You’re giving me a headache." You confessed

"And why is that?" Your confession didn’t seem to have much effect on him, instead his nipped at your jaw, smiling against your skin as if he knew exactly what you were about to say.

"Jimin. Seriously." You slapped his back, "You need to decide whenever you want to be an asshole or a nice guy."

He sighed and put some space between you two. You thought you had finally his attention and ready to have a nice talk. You wished. Jimin winked at you, taken you off guard before he slid down taking down the last piece of clothes that were still on you. All alarms rang in your head, Jimin, however, was faster and spread your legs widely and before you could even think of what to say, he settled face right between your legs.

"Jimin!" You protested.

Or at least tried to.

Whatever you were about to say vanished the moment Jimin buried his face in your heat, giving your pussy an experimental lick. Your body jerked forward, still sensitive and absolutely not ready for his attack.

"Not so coy now, are you?" He chuckled, enjoying how easily he managed to silence you.

"Sh-shut up."

"I will. You won’t." He promised and got back to business.

Jimin swept his tongue over your wet, hot and aching core, up and down, slowly, teasing you, tasting you. He knew from the moment he watched you riding you, he wouldn’t be able to resist, he wanted you in all possible way.

"Jimin, don’t." You begged and grabbed a fist of his hair, trying to push him away but he didn’t budge. Nothing could stop him.

He flicked his tongue, running circles around your swollen clit, giving you no time to breathe, to rest. You arched your back in response, your body acting on its own, disregarding all your mental protest.

Jimin grabbed your ass and pulled you closer to his face, pushing his tongue deep inside you.

"Jimin!" You cried out his name as you threw your head back, grabbing the sheets beneath you tightly, you held for your dear life.

He pulled out only to swirl his tongue over your clit causing you to gasp loudly and shudder. His tongue brought pure bliss to you with every flick, with every suck - your mind turned blank.

"Nothing to say suddenly huh?" He teased, sliding easily a finger inside your dripping cunt. "Look at you. It’s still not enough for you, is it?"

How were you supposed to answer that? You barely registered his words as he drew out another particularly loud moan from you. Jimin added a second finger, stretching you once more, curling his fingers deep inside you, massaging the delicious spot that had your toes curled. He let you absolutely no moments to recover, each move of his fingers rougher and stronger, each suck on your clit harsher.

You were a crying mess. "Jimin, please."

"Hmm?"

"I-" But you couldn’t say it, drowning in pleasure.

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you felt another powerful orgasm getting closer. "Please, let me cum."

"Do you want to now?" He teased

"Yes, yes, please!" You were so close and Jimin happily obliged.

You shuddered uncontrollably as you came apart hard, vision fading to black. You thought your first orgasm was powerful enough and yet Jimin proved you that he could wreck you, ruin you with just the power of his magical tongue and fingers.

Jimin took out his fingers and brought his fingers closer to his mouth while watching you completely wasted. He licked his fingers, slowly, sensually; his eyes were dark and still filled with lust - you almost came again.

"Tasty." He hummed in satisfaction and leaned to kiss you, sharing your taste with you.

You were in trouble.

#jimin #bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x reader #jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts scenario #bts imagine #chapter 2 #release my heart

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Put On Your Raincoats #15 | Rainbows in the Dark

To the extent that a porn director crossed over to the mainstream, Gregory Dark would be it. Certainly, there have been directors who did one or two porn features early in their careers, like Abel Ferrara, William Lustig and Wes Craven, but they're known almost entirely for their mainstream work. There are also porn directors who did maybe one mainstream movie, like Gerard Damiano, but their careers were relegated to porn for the most part. Dark is the rare director who was prolific on both sides, so to speak, starting with massive hardcore hits like New Wave Hookers, moving on to directing softcore, thrillers and softcore thrillers with some regularity and eventually becoming a popular music video director. My initial plan was to explore the full gamut of Dark's career. I wanted to get a sense of each phase of his work and to see what elements of his style translated across them. Essentially I wanted to understand Dark as an auteur. But then something miraculous happened. I got lazy. (Also I had a muted reaction to some of his movies and became more interested in another director in the meantime.) So I decided to limit my exploration to a few of his early movies and call it a day.

The first one I watched was New Wave Hookers, his best known hardcore title and considered a classic in the genre. What I expected going in and what worked for me can be deduced from the title. Dark's visual style very much brings to mind the "new wave" in the title: big hair, fog machines and neon lighting, all of which are first seen in the opening credits, in which the female talent almost ritualistically present themselves to the camera. There's some stylistic precedent in the work of Rinse Dream AKA Stephen Sayadian (the artist I got more interested in as I delved into Dark's work), but Sayadian's aesthetic feels culled from the art underground. (Dark reuses a few of Sayadian's actors in some of his films.) Dark's style feels more commercial, almost packaged for MTV. (Dark intended his film as a reaction to hardcore porn features of his era, although I'd argue that his choice of camera angles still feels in line with other films of the era.) This is a movie that looks good and, thanks to some choice music courtesy of the Plugz (whose song "Electrify Me" accompanies the opening credits) and the Sockets (who provide the theme song), sounds good too.

What I gelled to much less was the sense of humour. The movie opens with two buddies played by Jamie Gillis (wearing a tie over a t-shirt) and Dark regular Jack Baker shooting the shit and watching another Dark production. ("That fuckin' guy looks exactly like you. Is that you?") Baker starts expounding on his thoughts about pimping and "programming" women to fuck with music. Baker also notes, "a pimp calls a chick a bitch". They doze off, and when they wake up they find themselves inexplicably in an office. Baker is wearing a yellow tracksuit, Gillis is sporting an East Asian accent, and there's a guy on the floor substituting for their phone. (Gillis asks: "Why do we not have a regular telephone?" Baker explains: "He got the power, the second sight.") As the movie proceeds to make good on its premise, wherein women have sex after listening to new wave music, we're treated to a steady stream of racial taunting. Baker grouses about black music being ineffective for their purposes, dropping the N-bomb. Gillis continues with his accent. The two get into racially charged arguments. A middle eastern client is served in a tent and barks like a dog after he's finished. At one point, Gillis wants sushi and is served by Kristara Barrington while East Asian style music plays on the soundtrack. I recognize that a lot of humour from the era is extremely politically incorrect and has aged poorly, but there's something about Dark's use of racist and misogynist humour that feels especially confrontational. I admit I was a bit bothered by all of this.

Still, there are moments of humour that did work for me. One of the headsets that the characters use has dildos protruding from both earpieces (pointing outwards, of course), and the production design, while not always stylish, is at least endearing in its blatant cheapness. To their credit, Baker and Gillis have undeniable chemistry and do sell the material as well as they can. (I laughed when Gillis, when confronted by the vice squad, drops his accent and exclaims "I used to work in your fuckin' office, and now I'm rich, I'm satisfied, and I'm Chinese, you assholes." Am I a bad person? Probably.) And in terms of how it meets genre expectations, I do think Ginger Lynn and Kristara Barrington have a real magnetism in their scenes.

Given the racial content in New Wave Hookers, it probably won't surprise anybody that Dark was a pioneer in interracial pornography. I am not a sensitive enough writer to begin unpacking all the implications of the concept, but I did watch one of his movies in the subgenre, Black Throat. This was a shot-on-video effort and looks considerably cheaper and uglier than New Wave Hookers, but shares some other qualities. It opens and closes with a punk song that references that film as well as Let Me Tell Ya Bout White Chicks, Dark's first interracial feature, and to be honest, the song is pretty fucking catchy. The movie follows Roscoe, a man who wears yellow sunglasses and both a polo and a Hawaiian shirt and his friend Mr. Bob, a talking rubber rat. He's searching through the garbage while arguring with Mr. Bob over what to eat when he finds a business card. "Madame Mambo's House of Divine Inspiration Thru Fellatio!" (All of the characters pronounce fellatio differently. Mr. Bob says "fell-uh-tee-oh" and calls Roscoe a "fuckin' honky", to which he responds "Fuck you, Mr. Bob!")

Roscoe insists he has to find her. "If I don't find her, I'm gonna die!" (When asked why, he responds, "I dunno, it sounded kinda dramatic, I guess.") Mr. Bob enlists the help of a "young urban professional pimp" named Jamal, played by Jack Baker. (He prefers the term "flesh broker" and describes upgrading his diet, clothes and investments.) Roscoe, Mr. Bob and Jamal go from scene to scene, watching other characters having sex in different racial combinations, asking them where they can find Madame Mambo. (Sometimes they ask the characters directly, other times they talk to their private parts.) The best of these scenes, in my humble opinion, is a light domination flavoured sex scene featuring Christy Canyon. Perhaps because of the dynamic, there's an element of actual acting involved here, and because Canyon is, uh, pleasingly proportioned and has a certain magnetism, I found this scene more engaging than the others, at least until it turns into a regular sex scene.

Eventually they go back to Roscoe's place and find a voodoo ritual taking place where a black woman with multicoloured hair (think the George H.W. Bush rainbow wig from the Simpsons, but straight, not curly) is jumping on their bed while a bunch of white dudes in hats, capes and sunglasses jack off around her. This of course is Madame Mambo and at this point the movie makes good on the title while drumbeats and funk play on the soundtrack. Given the premise, this movie proved (thankfully) lighter on racial humour than I expected going in. There is an element of racial critique in Baker's character, and Madame Mambo is certainly exoticized, but the racial content otherwise is limited to the interracial couplings and doesn't overload the dialogue. However, this is a fairly ugly looking movie, shot on video, featuring unimpressive camerawork and lighting as well as extremely cheap looking production design (although the movie does mine this for laughs). I also found the sex scenes overlong and the music a bit repetitive. I imagine if you were jerking off to this back in the '80s it was easier to get through, but trying to watch it now as an actual movie, despite some decent humour throughout, proved a bit of a challenge.

The next one I watched was White Bunbusters, which despite the first half of the title is not particularly racially charged. The theme song here, crooned in the style of early '60s rock'n'roll, explains that the movie is about anal sex, as the second half of the title suggests. We begin with Tom Byron thrusting into his wife Shanna McCullough (while wearing his glasses) only to be disappointed by her refusal to take it in the butt. The next day at the office (decorated by construction paper all over the walls, drawers sketched in magic marker and a crude sign with their business' name "Acme Proctology"), he hears an ad for the "A-Busters", an enterprising duo who will convince your wife or partner to let you put it in their butt. We cut to the A-Busters office and see them in yellow shorts, lime green suspenders and orange baseball caps, fiddling with their hi-tech instruments (which include an "anal listening device"). Soon we see them go to work on Jack Baker's girlfriend, taking a cash payment after the fact.

Meanwhile, Byron's friend Greg Rome hears about his woes and offers to let him fuck his wife Keli Richards (Rome is named Bob and Richards is named Bobette). Of course Byron takes advantage of Rome's generous offer, but later gets annoyed when Rome insists it was a "one time deal". They're interrupted by Jennifer Noxt, who asks about a secretarial position for the law office next door. Rather than correcting her, which would be the right thing to do, they have sex with her, which is absolutely not the right thing to do. ("So do I get the job?" "We'll call you later, baby.") We go back to the A-Busters, who go to work on a pornstar warming up for her first anal scene (the movie is called Hershey Highway to Hell). Eventually, Byron decides to make use of their services, and in the climax, when he's having a nice dinner with his wife (complete with plastic cups and paper plates), they crash the party and get to work. After it's all over, Byron thanks the A-Busters and shakes one of their hands, only to promptly wipe it off on his suit.

This is as lo-fi as Black Throat, and features a lot of raunchy humour, but thankfully no real racial content outside of the title. Perhaps because the focus is on a specific set of acts (threesomes, anal sex, double penetration), the execution seems more consistently energetic. The ratio of the threesomes is a little off from what I prefer, but I was not unmoved by the scenes involving Keli Richards, Jennifer Noxt and Shanna McCullough. I realize there are more dignified ways to spend one's time than watching in its entirety and singing the praises of a movie called White Bunbusters, but sometimes the lizard brain takes over. I feel compelled to report the facts, and the facts are that this is good at what it does. As an actual movie, there isn't a whole lot to this, but were I to rate this on the Peter-Meter as the filmmakers intended, it would fare respectably.

Where Gregory Dark's style and the sum of his provocations really worked for me was in The Devil in Miss Jones 3: A New Beginning and The Devil in Miss Jones 4: The Final Outrage, a two-part odyssey through hell. (Attentive viewers may note that the original Devil in Miss Jones takes place before the heroine is sentenced to hell, but this is not a direct sequel. There is also a second part by Henri Pachard and later sequels directed by Dark that I did not see. The narrative in the third and fourth entries feels pretty self contained.) The movie begins with close-ups of our heroine, played by Lois Ayres, taking a shower while "A Christian Girl's Problems" by the Gleaming Spires plays over the soundtrack, her interiority hinted at with an astute song choice. (It's worth noting that this was not an original song made for the movie.) The structure intersperses her story with a series of interviews with those who knew her: an ex-boyfriend who "had a disagreement about the relationship" (he slept around); a woman speculates that Ayres was "a closet lesbian" and that "she probably went to live in one of those lesbian islands in the Caribbean"; a girl who knew her as a prude back in high school, a priest with a thick accent who offers a eulogy; her brother, who speaks in new age euphemisms and resents that she was the favourite growing up; and a blind ex-boyfriend who claims she was the loveliest person he knew "after Helen Keller". (This last character describes his sex life as very "normal": no peeing or dogs, wouldn't fuck pizzas, etc.) All these people knew her, but they didn't really know her.

The actual story follows her after she breaks up with her boyfriend (over the phone, as he shaves another woman's pubic hair while feigning innocence). She heads for a bar, brushing off a stereotypical black pimp played by Jack Baker who mistakes her for a prostitute, and promptly orders a "taco" (a draught beer, a Bloody Mary, and a draught beer in three separate glasses). Beside her is a man asleep on bar in tuxedo, who turns out to have been stood up at his own wedding. They hook up, leading to a sex scene scored by a blaring saxophone that I assume was practice for Dark's softcore work. The scene ends when the heroine knocks her head against the headboard and wakes up in a pitch black space near a grave. In comes Jack Baker, riding atop a woman, to tell her what the situation is. "You are dead, you got no clothes, and this is hell!"

The rest of the movie follows them going through different rooms, the heroine being unable to comprehend her fate, as they watch the different punishments endured by the denizens of hell. There's the room full of "peepers", virgins doomed to only watch sex for all eternity. (One of them explains: "I showed my tits to a guy to get a Gucci purse. He went off an overpass.") There are characters doomed to fuck until their genitals wear out or are ravaged by venereal disease. Baker gives Ayres a raincoat "to keep the come off", but the moment she forgets about it she finds herself getting gangbanged and promptly has to be rescued by Baker (okay, not that promptly, we get to enjoy this for a few minutes). Along the way we're led to believe from the interviews that the heroine might have a fetish for black men, and the conversation between Ayres and Baker grows increasingly heated and racially charged. This idea culminates in a trip to the "racist room", where a white man with a swastika armband is having a threesome with two women of colour while a white woman is sucking off two black men in tribal makeup. Ayres and Baker have a final confrontation on the subject.

"What about all the black racists?"

"Look bitch, when a black man hits a white man, we don't call it racist!"

"What do you call it then?"

"Smart!"

"That's ridiculous, there are plenty of black racists!"

"No dig, you stupid ass white bitch!"

"Look, you're even one of them, calling me a stupid bitch and a white bitch!"

"We'll you're stupid, you're white and a bitch, so what is your motherfucking problem?"

"You're crazy, negro, and you're one of the sickest people in here!"

"That's right, I'm a crazy negro! I'm so crazy I'll eat my own arm!"

This is a deeply uncomfortable scene, and what follows is even more disturbing, as we learn the true nature of the heroine's relationship with her father, a reveal that Dark plays for maximum shock value in depicting "The Ordeal of the Taboo Breakers".

In some ways this isn't all that different from New Wave Hookers, but Dark's direction seems more purposeful here. The stylized depiction of hell, with its black backgrounds and harsh neon lighting, imbue a real sense of menace into the proceedings. With the exception of two scenes, the sex isn't all that outrageous, but Dark's mise-en-scene has a way of rendering it almost as horror. It's not exactly scary and probably still "does the trick" if you're watching this for those reasons, but there's an undeniable charge here. Likewise, the dark humour and the racial content seem to work in tandem here, and Ayres and Baker really sell their adversarial chemistry. (It's worth noting that even by the standards of the video vixens that appear in Dark's movies, Ayres has an amazing hairdo.) Dark may not have entirely thought out his thesis along these lines, but the movie is provocative in its handling of this content, and unlike New Wave Hookers, not in a way that hurts it. At a combined 2+ hours, this probably runs a bit too long, but it does shape the usual procession of sex scenes into a structure that carries an uneasy momentum that matches the heroine's trepidation. We might not like what we're seeing, but we also can't help but keep looking.

#film #put on your raincoats #movie review #gregory dark #new wave hookers #black throat #white bunbusters #the devil in miss jones 3: a new beginning #the devil in miss jones 4: the final outrage

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