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kingofbodyrolls · 11 months ago

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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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luvismenu · 1 month ago

Text

here i go — pjm one shot

pairing: childhood friend!jimin x fem!reader

warnings: lots of scream (movie) references, virgin!jimin, teasing each other, smut.

summary: your virgin bsf wants to have a look at your boobs and you.. let him.

note: kind of like a bday + spooky szn special !!

wc: 2.2k+

♡ — permanent taglist: @https-mei @ari420sstuff @blaricee @jksctrl @blluee28 @jkvias @wnteraezz @whoa-jo @wobblewobble822 @jkslvsnella @clxssy1997 @nikkinikj @kayleesaltzmann @rrosiitas @naurnonope @lola75111 @somehowukook @redcherrykook @parkinglot-nights @deluluisdasolulu @minghaosimp @hyeon-yi @ririkookiemonster @svtrighthereworld @jmscaffeine @trinityxsope @taetaecatboy @butnotmontana @joyofbebbanburg @elinaki92 @sweetmimosa28

“hello? who—”

“hello, ___. what's your favorite scary movie?”

“w-who are you? that's not funny, i swear i will c-call the cops—”

the voice on the other end laughs, the voice effect slowly dropping, revealing the familiar sound behind it. you immediately relax.

“fuck you.”

“come on!! it's spooky season.”

you roll your eyes.

“let me in, sweets. it's cold outside.”

you scoff and hang up, heading to the front door. you swing it open, glaring at the figure standing there.

“you're an asshole, you know that? you could've gone to prison!”

he steps past you, grinning, as he pulls off his gloves and jacket, his laugh barely under control. “y-you should've heard yourself!”

“seriously, jimin, that wasn’t funny. i almost peed my pants,” you grumble, closing the door and turning to him with your arms crossed.

“aw, poor ___, scared of the least scariest character ever.” he mocks you, sticking out his lower lip in a fake pout, then heads straight to your living room.

“what!? a serial killer is scary! especially if he's after me,” you follow behind him, still fuming. “and by the way, did you get a new number?”

“yep,” he says, collapsing onto your couch. “and you know i can't pass up an opportunity to scare the shit out of my favorite loser.”

“why am i even friends with you again?” you ask, plopping down next to him. he quickly pulls you in, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“hmm, lemme think.” he pauses for effect. “maybe 'cause we've been neighbors since birth, went to the same school, same uni? oh, and probably because i'm the only guy who knows every embarrassing detail about your life. yeah, that’s gotta be it.” he nods

you shove him playfully, laughing. “you're so annoying. i hate you.”

he chuckles, “oh come on, sweets, you know you love me.”

“whatever,” you mutter, but a small smile betrays you.

“so, you got a boyfriend?”

“why? you wanna ask me out on a date?”

“maybe. do you have a boyfriend?”

“no.”

“you never told me your name.”

“why do you want to know my name?”

“because i want to know who i am looking at.”

“boo!!! casey had zero survival skills,” jimin suddenly exclaims, making you flinch.

you’ve watched the scream movies with jimin ever since you were kids. he loved them, but you were never a big fan. still, he insisted you’d watch at least one every year during “spooky season.” eventually, you got used to it. it doesn’t feel that scary anymore when he’s beside you.

your arm is linked through his, and your head rests comfortably on his shoulder as you continue watching the movie. the tension of the scene doesn’t bother you much, maybe because you’ve seen it too many times, or maybe because jimin’s presence keeps you calm.

well, except for the moments when he randomly yells at the screen and scares you half to death.

“so, you thought you’d climb through my window and have a little raw footage?"

“no, no. i wouldn’t dream of breaking your underwear rule. i just thought maybe we could do a little on-top-of-the-clothes stuff, just to make it pg-13.”

“you are a tease.”

“he doesn’t want you!” you boo at the screen, making jimin chuckle.

he glances at you from the corner of his eye, smirking. “___, why don’t we have a pg-13 relationship, huh?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “yeah, no, i’m not flashing my boobs.”

“but you’ve seen my dick!” he exclaims, his voice almost accusatory as you pull back, ready to fire back immediately.

“that was because you were proving it’s not small!” you remind him, your eyes narrowing.

“let this virgin have a look,” he pouts dramatically, sticking out his lower lip like that will convince you.

“i never asked to look at your dick when i was a virgin!” you shoot back, crossing your arms. he opens his mouth to counter, but before he can get a word in, you cut him off. “that doesn’t count. you were the one who showed me. i said i never asked for it!”

his lips twitch into a small smile as he tries one last desperate attempt. “pretty please, ___?” he pleads, giving you the full force of his puppy eyes.

you scoff, a small laugh escaping despite yourself. “fine!”

his eyes light up, and he sits there expectantly, waiting for you to pull your shirt off. you hesitate for a moment, your fingers lingering at the hem, but eventually, you tug it over your head, exposing the light pink bra with a small bow in the center.

his gaze drops instantly. he licks his lips. “pretty bra,” he murmurs

“thanks, pervert,” you joke, he's smirking like you just gave him the world’s weirdest compliment.

his grin widens, not even the slightest bit ashamed. “can i take it off?”

you bite your bottom lip, feeling your heart race as you nod. his hands come up, gentle and slow, as if he’s savoring every second. his fingers brush along the edges of your bra and trace the sides of your breasts, making your breath hitch.

then, with a quiet click , he unclasps the bra.

“okay?” he asks softly, his eyes meeting yours, giving you a chance to change your mind.

you swallow hard and breathe out, “okay.”

he hooks his fingers under the straps, sliding them down your arms and letting the bra fall away. his eyes darken as your breasts are fully revealed to him. the sight of your soft skin and perked nipples leaves him speechless, his chest rising and falling a little faster now.

“oh fuck...” he breathes, like the words slipped out without him realizing.

you feel the heat spreading through your body, an ache growing between your legs as you watch his reaction. the way his gaze lingers on your chest, the hunger in his eyes. it makes your core throb.

“touch me, jimin,” you say without a second thought. the words leave your mouth so easily, and the moment they do, he’s on you, not wasting a second. his hands cup your breasts, the warmth of his palms sending shivers down your spine as he starts rubbing your nipples with his fingers.

you squirm under his touch, your eyes fluttering shut when he rolls your nipples between his fingers, pinching them just enough to make you gasp.

“does that feel good?” he asks, his voice low.

you nod, biting your lip. the answer comes in the form of a soft moan when his mouth closes around your right nipple, sucking gently and teasing it with his tongue.

you glance down, watching the way his lips wrap around you, and it makes you dizzy with pleasure.

“sorry, couldn’t resist,” he mumbles against your skin, pulling back just enough to grin before trailing kisses along your breasts.

you let out a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the way he’s touching you. “are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you manage to ask between gasps.

his lips curl into a playful smirk. “love it too much?”

“i hate you,” you whisper, but the amused smile on your face tells a different story.

he chuckles softly and moves up to kiss your neck. “can i fuck you, ___?” he murmurs against your skin, his lips brushing your pulse.

“yes.” the word slips out of your mouth almost too quickly.

but then it hits you, and you pull back slightly. “w-wait, are you sure? i mean, do you really want me to be your first—”

he cuts you off with a kiss, his plump lips pressing against yours.

“mmmh...” you hum into the kiss, melting against him as his lips move against yours. it’s everything, soft, warm, and somehow exactly what you didn’t know you needed.

he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, “i wouldn't have it any other way.”

“why do you even have condoms?” jimin asks, positioned between your legs as he rolls the condom on. you’d told him they were in your nightstand, so now the two of you are on your bed, getting ready.

“uh, because i don’t wanna get pregnant?” you reply. “plus, i’m not the virgin here.”

the corners of his mouth lift into a teasing grin. “damn, there are actual people who wanna fuck you?”

you raise an eyebrow, matching his playful energy. “yeah, and you’re one of them.”

he chuckles, shaking his head. “touché.”

then, with a serious expression, he grabs your hips. “alright… here i go”

you burst into laughter, the words catching you off guard. “h-here i go? jimin, we’re not in kindergarten!” you laugh uncontrollably, and he frowns, making you laugh harder.

“shut up, i was just letting you know!” he glares you.

you try to stifle your laughter, barely holding it together. “right, right. sorry... you got this, champ!” and just like that, you lose it again, dissolving into more giggles.

he rolls his eyes dramatically, trying to look annoyed. “you’re turning me off, you know.”

you grin, glancing down between his legs. “so why’s your junior still standing, then?”

he blinks, surprised, before laughing along with you. “junior?” he echoes

“okay, okay, my bad,” you say, catching your breath.

“for real this time… here we go.” you give him a mischievous smile, and he shakes his head, biting his lip to hide a grin.

“you’re impossible,” he mutters under his breath, but his hands slide back to your waist, steadying himself.

the playful mood shifts into something more intimate as you relax into the bed beneath him. with one slow, deliberate motion, he pushes inside you.

he groans at the feeling, his hands tightening on your hips. you gasp softly, biting your lip as the warmth spreads through you.

he moves slowly at first, soft gasps and low moans falling from his lips with every thrust.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his hips starting to pick up speed. the sound of skin against skin fills the room, and it has you gripping the sheets tighter, trying to hold onto something—anything—because he’s driving you insane.

“jimin— y-yes, fuck!” you manage to stammer, though the words are slurred with pleasure. it barely even matters. all you know is that he feels fucking amazing inside you.

he grabs your legs and lifts them onto his shoulders without missing a beat, the new angle making his cock hit deeper.

“mmh, you're so fucking tight, baby,” he rasps,

as if you weren’t already lost in pleasure, his fingers find your clit. he starts rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles, all while his hips keep thrusting into you. the sensations are overwhelming; his cock filling you, his fingers working you.

you gasp, whimpering uncontrollably. every thrust, every rub, every movement sends shocks of pleasure through your body, leaving you trembling beneath him.

“j-jimin—” you choke on your own words, barely holding on as the intensity builds.

“that’s it, baby,” he groans.

you cry out, feeling your orgasm crash over you. your body tenses, back arching off the bed as you cum hard, soaking his cock. the pleasure is so overwhelming it borders on painful, leaving you gasping, crying, and writhing under him.

“so fucking pretty,” he breathes, mesmerized by the sight of you falling apart beneath him.

watching your cum drip down onto him only pushes him closer to the edge. with a few more frantic thrusts, he groans deeply, burying himself inside you as he spills into the condom.

his movements slow down, but he stays inside you for a moment, catching his breath. you lie there, panting and basking in the afterglow, bodies still pressed together.

“holy shit,” you whisper, heart pounding in your chest.

he chuckles softly as he pull out, “yeah... holy shit”

“are you sure this was your first time?” you chuckle breathlessly, your chest still heaving as you try to catch your breath.

he laughs along with you, the sound low and a little shy now that the heat of the moment has passed. “yeah, pretty sure,” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck. “unless i’ve been sleepwalking through sex.”

you giggle, “well, you didn’t exactly perform like a rookie.”

“natural talent, i guess.” he grins, but there’s a flush creeping up his neck that makes you laugh even more.

you both lie there for a moment in comfortable silence, the room filled with the sound of your soft breathing. there’s no awkwardness. just a weird sense of ease, like this was exactly how things were supposed to go.

“so… you got a boyfriend?” he breaks the silence, glancing over at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

you smile to yourself, and speak up. “why? you wanna ask me out on a date?”

“maybe. do you have a boyfriend?” he asks, with a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“no.” you reply, meeting his gaze.

for a moment, you both hold the stare, and then it breaks as you burst into laughter, the room filling with the sound of it, light and carefree.

“so i did great, right?” he asks

“mmh, not bad,” you hum, pretending to be unimpressed, though the smirk on your face gives you away. “maybe a solid 8 out of 10.”

his jaw drops dramatically. “only an 8?”

“you lost points for saying ‘here i go’.” you tease, biting your lip to hold back your laughter.

“oh, come on!” he groans, covering his face with both hands. “i’ll never live that down, will i?”

“nope,” you say smugly, shifting closer to him on the bed.

he drops his hands, a grin spreading across his face.

“okay, but seriously sweets… you’re amazing.”

“you're too, jimin”

#park jimin x reader #park jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin oneshot #bts jimin #smut #park jimin #jimin smut #oneshot

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honeytae · 6 months ago

Text

this was originally supposed to be very soft…oops! :)

the first half is inspired by a dream i had about jimin that literally had me waking up in tears + the second half is inspired by ‘thinking bout you’ by ariana grande which happened to come on shuffle play a few mins later. voilà!

genre: angst, fluff, smut

wc: 3.8k

warnings: moderate angst (eludes to enl*stment), a lot of tears, language, looots of kissing, making out, grinding, oral activities, and unprotected sex (don’t). explicit description of sexual acts: minors dni.

jimin wakes with a deeply wounded sound that could be described as the world’s most dramatic grunt.

he absolutely hates waking up alone. everyone knows he’s a natural cuddler, born to hold others and be held.

ideally, by you.

blinking harshly against the afternoon sun streaming through the window, jimin stretches his arm out to your side of the bed, huffing when he comes across cold sheets.

he blows another deep breath out of his mouth as he rolls over to check the time, slowly breaking out of his post-nap haze.

“good morning, sleepy head.”

jimin perks up at the sound of your voice. on cue, you step through the doorway, looking equally sleepy while clutching your favorite mug.

you shuffle across the bedroom, smiling fondly at the man as his legs kick out and ruffle the sheets when he sits up.

“you left me,” he juts out his bottom lip, reaching for you impatiently as you lower yourself onto the mattress.

“i’m sorry, babe,” you pout back, directing your eyes to the mug by way of explanation, “i woke up with a craving for chai tea,” you continue, handing the mug over as you settle in next to him.

“well, i woke up with a craving for you,” he quips, sassily raising the mug to his lips as you lovingly roll your eyes at him.

he makes a satisfied hum as he swallows the sweet tea, showing his enthusiasm with a bob of his head.

pressing his lips together, he hands the mug back to you, watching as you take another sip before leaning over to set it down on the nightstand.

when you sit back against the pillows and look at jimin, you feel a rush of warmth spread through your chest. you aren’t entirely used to seeing him right here, next to you, so content.

there have been so many times when you sat up at night thinking about him, worrying about him, craving him, all while he was more distant than he had ever been throughout your relationship. and this wasn’t even by his design.

it makes you emotional, the way he easily nestles into your side, the way his hand gravitates to yours, and the gentle concern in his eyes as he watches your own well up with tears.

“hey,” he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, “what is it, angel?” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours as he searches your eyes, hoping for a clue while he gives you the time to gather yourself enough to speak.

“i just can’t believe you’re here,” you eventually say, much quieter than you intended. “and i’m so happy,” you emphasize. your heart sinks when jimin’s eyes mirror your own, glistening with unshed tears.

your exchange of emotion is wordless for a long moment, as you are addressing the obvious. you are here, together, but only for now. you are happy and content, but only for now. and as much as you try to combat your pessimism, you are a realist at heart.

in a few days, jimin will inevitably leave again.

your hands pull towards his crumpling face like a magnet, cupping his jaw and swiping your thumbs along his soft cheeks when the salty drops descend down his skin, leaning forward to press your lips to his wobbly pair.

“i miss you so much,” he sniffs, eyebrows furrowing as he takes notice of your now wet cheeks, “i always miss you,” he chokes on a sob, the sound pulling on all your heartstrings and delivering a swift punch to the gut.

it makes you want to cry even more watching him be so upset, desperately trying to push the lump in your throat away for the sake of your limited time together. you fail miserably, letting your head fall onto his shoulder as more tears break free.

“please don’t cry,” you sob in return, “not about this. it’s okay, baby,” the latter part of your statement is muffled as jimin pulls you closer to crush you in his arms, nestling his head into your neck as his back still shakes with unsteady breaths.

“please don’t cry,” you reiterate with a sniffle of your own, looping your arms around his back as you both dig deeper into the embrace.

“then you don’t cry! it breaks my heart,” he pouts, squeezing your hand again as he presses a chaste kiss to your chin, a contented sigh leaving him when you turn your face to kiss him.

your lips meld together sweetly, sharing one, two, three, soft kisses full of the taste of salt from your combined tears.

you pull back and allow your tired head to fall onto his shoulder again, jimin placing his head on yours with another soft sigh.

“fuck,” he tsks after a quiet moment, turning his face to look at you with swollen eyes.

you chuckle humorlessly, stretching your neck to gingerly press your lips to the drying tear trails on his face. the apples of his cheeks appear as you do so, eyes creasing as he grins down at you.

“i’m sorry for being depressing. i swear i had fun plans when i first came in here,” you sigh, smiling when jimin smushes your cheeks together with his hand and pecks the damp skin with his lips, as you did him.

“don’t be sorry. this has been a lot,” he frowns, “and we needed the cry.”

you hum in agreement, turning onto your side and settling deeper into his chest as his fingers soothingly dance along your shoulder.

“i love you so much,” he murmurs, hand tracing down to rub calming circles into your back.

it doesn't matter how often you hear jimin say that he loves you; you have determined that your heart will nearly combust every time.

so you grin like a fool and hoist yourself up onto your elbows, hands settling on his bare chest. your eyes fondly dance along his features, from his sparkling eyes to his adorable button nose, to the perfect puffy pillows he has for lips.

“i love you so much,” you trace his skin, running your thumb along the ridges in his abdomen. “this is new,” you comment on his physique with a quirked brow, jimin’s face breaking into a big, beautiful smile as he laughs shyly.

“wow,” you carry on, and embarrassed, he waves you off, which only encourages you to amp up the act.

“what, you want me to ignore this? i mean, i’ve never seen an eight pack before!” you exclaim, grinning when you see that he’s now totally flushed pink, both from the way your nail traces down his happy trail and your praise.

“stop it,” he whines, “you’re torturing me. come up here,” he gestures, patting his thighs. you lift a leg to straddle his waist, lowering yourself to sit on his hips.

it’s instinctive and effortless, the way you fall down onto his chest. the way his hands travel down your lower back to rest on your ass, sinking his fingers into the flesh with what could only be described as a sigh of relief.

resting your face in the juncture between his chest and neck, you pucker your lips on the skin there, then move over to the column of his throat to do the same, and down to his collarbone. his breath catches in his throat when you open your mouth against him, hissing a breath through his teeth when you drag your tongue along the skin.

“sensitive,” you tease as you pick your head up, the smirk falling right off your face as he lifts his hand and delivers a sharp smack to your ass. you inhale a sharp gasp as a hot wave of arousal washes over you, and the mood change in the room is instantaneous.

jimin’s mouth actively seeks yours like a moth to a flame, lips colliding in a mess of teeth and tongue that has you keening for more. you moan into each other's mouths as he fondles your ass, sneaking a finger down between your legs to rub you through your dampening shorts.

the thought of jimin being unreachable again was constant worry gnawing at you. but for now, you are rested, reunited, and so, so in love.

and frankly, more than a little needy.

your tongues lazily tangle together as jimin traces his hands up your body, settling on your stomach and caressing the skin. you could almost laugh at the contradiction between the gentle circles he’s rubbing into your tummy versus the way he’s currently sucking on your tongue.

when you can no longer ignore the burning in your lungs, you lift yourself from his mouth, jimin swiftly taking the opportunity to lift your t-shirt over your head and chuck it across the room.

he stares at your bare chest with a deep groan, cupping your breasts and gently squeezing the tissue in his hands.

“fucking love it when you don’t wear a bra,” he says, tweaking your nipples between skilled thumbs.

“yeah? wanna burn all my bras?” you smirk, jaw falling slack when he dips forward to close his mouth around your nipple. he sucks on the aching nub until you’re whining his name, breaking away for only a moment to answer you.

“happily,” he simpers, switching to your other neglected breast. he encourages you with open palms on the small of your waist when you arch your back and push your chest further into him.

he pops off your chest with a shaky breath as your hips instinctively grind down on his lap, an airy whine erupting from the back of your throat at the feeling of his bulge poking into you.

“fuck, baby, just like that,” jimin instructs with a soft moan, laying back against the pillows as his hands move to support your gyrating hips.

lowering yourself so your face hovers above his, you support yourself using the pillow beneath his head as you begin slowly rocking your hips along the tent in his boxers, back and forth, back and forth.

the friction is making you feel dizzy, rubbing you in all the right spots.

plus, the eye contact isn’t helping your case at all. jimin’s half-shut eyelids send a stronger pulse between your legs. all you can concentrate on is chasing the pleasure you feel right now, taking jimin’s short breaths as confirmation that you two are in the same boat.

“jimin, baby,” you breathe, reluctantly stilling your hips, “i really could cum right now and that scares me.”

your mouth twitches into a grin when he lets out a belly laugh in response, moving his hands up and down your back to help bring you back to earth.

“me too,” he chuckles, “it’s only slightly humiliating,” he says as he kisses your shoulder, his head easily falling back onto the pillows as you meet his lips again.

jimin moans into your mouth as your other hand suddenly slips into his boxer shorts, wrapping your fingers around the base of him and closing your hand around him to squeeze his shaft. his eyes shift to look at your hand down his pants, but close as soon as you swipe your thumb across his tip.

you’re dragging your hand up and down on him, tracing your smallest finger over the dull pulse shooting up his cock. low whines are leaving his lips, his hand grasping your side when you quicken your pace.

“oh god,” he rasps, “you have to stop, baby.”

when you continue your actions with a pout, he leans forward to press his lips to the wrinkle temporarily formed in your chin.

“but i wanna make you feel good,” you say. you still allow him to fully sit up, dropping his cock with a reluctant sigh.

“well, i wanna make you feel good too. do we have a deal?,” he grins as he takes hold of your ankles and pulls you toward the end of the bed, your eagerness showing in the way you shimmy out of your shorts and underwear in one go. you chuck said items across the room, jimin immediately sinking to his knees on the floor.

you shudder as he starts pressing open-mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs, obviously teasing as you push your hips impatiently toward him.

“baby, please,” you beg, and he seems to get the message. placing his hands underneath your calves, he lifts your legs and guides them over his shoulders.

as you look down at him devilishly smiling between your thighs, you think that he would give the cheshire cat a run for his money.

when his mouth finally meets the area begging for his attention most, you let out a broken cry of his name, fisting the sheets beside you as he languidly strokes his tongue through the arousal spilling from you.

“hmmh,” he moans into you, making you shudder from the vibration, knees going weak as he circles your clit with a pointed tongue.

your vision goes black once you feel one of his fingers circling your entrance, pushing its way in after you let out a garbled plea to the ceiling. he thrusts with one finger then adds another, hooking them to rub your sweet spot.

you feel a rush of heat rise in your cheeks at his actions, clenching the sheets with a whine as you start rocking your hips to fuck yourself onto his fingers.

“oh fuck, oh fuck! baby,” you whine, letting a hand sneak down to settle on his head, gripping his hair and tugging just how he likes.

it’s only been a few minutes and you can feel that you’re embarrassingly close, especially with the way jimin tauntingly drags his fingers just right along your walls, hitting your g spot with each pointed thrust of his hand. the pressure keeps building, electricity rippling through your lower abdomen as he hits your cervix.

“i-i’m gonna cum,” you stutter, jimin throwing an arm over your stomach to stop your writhing, holding you in place as he dips down to essentially make out with your clit.

and then the band snaps, time slows, and you’re falling, falling, falling.

when your vision comes back, jimin is above you, running his hands up and down your now sore leg muscles.

you reach out to place your hand on his shoulder, squeezing the muscle then bringing your palm around to cup the back of his neck.

“oh my god, i love you,” you breathe, chest still stuttering from your high.

“i love you more,” he coos, bringing his hand up to your hair, carefully smoothing it away from your face with his fingers.

it’s quiet for a moment as your head slows its spinning. jimin’s dark pupils pull you back to earth, glittering with your reflection.

“you okay, my love?” he murmurs softly, shifting his hand so he can swipe his thumb over your cheek. his appendage moves when you bob your head in response, flashing him a tired grin.

“never been better,” you confirm, “ready for round two?”

jimin crinkles his nose in amusement, dipping down to eagerly meet your lips. sighs and moans pass between you as he licks into your mouth, the taste of you rubbing off onto your tongue.

you pull him in tighter to you, jimin’s hips thrusting into yours in pursuit of stimulation. you buck your hips up to meet his, the lazy pace of your grind far from satisfying your need.

“fuck me, baby, please,” you break apart from the kiss with a whine, tracing your hands down his body to slip your fingers beneath his waistband once again.

this time, jimin eagerly straightens up, pushing his shorts down his legs and tossing them aside. his length slaps up against his stomach, and oh my god, you think, he’s so hard it looks like it hurts.

“on your side, baby,” he says with a soft pat to your ass, erupting into giggles when you all too enthusiastically flip over, leaving him to bounce on the bed beside you.

you eagerly settle back into his chest as he spoons you from behind, his arm wrapping around your torso to pull you as close to him as he can. you can feel the rhythm of his heartbeat pressing into your back, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder.

“i love that this is the only time you’re the big spoon,” you tease, gasping when he lifts your leg and slides his cock through your wet folds.

as much as you like to tease jimin, you find that you like the end result of him shutting you up much better.

“fuck,” you whisper as he bumps his tip into your swollen clit, needily rocking your hips back to slide along his length.

“jimin, please,” you beg, and you don’t even recognize your own voice. you sound desperate, and with anyone else you would feel embarrassed. but it’s jimin, who doesn’t miss a beat and instead leaves a wet smack of his lips on your shoulder, lining his cock up with your entrance and pushing the tip inside of you.

“oh,” you blow a breath through clenched teeth at the intrusion, fingers digging into the pillow beside your head as pleasure spreads through your core already.

jimin grunts as he shifts his hips forward to inch inside, pulling back and thrusting more of himself into you. he curses as you squeeze him, letting his face fall into your neck.

a moan erupts from your chest as he bottoms out, while jimin blows out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“fuck, so good. you’re so good for me,” he moans, sounding entirely delirious as he feels you wrapped around him like this for the first time in months.

he leans down to pepper kisses over your cheeks as he waits for you to adjust to him, pressing one last kiss to the side of your head as you nod for him to go.

“you sure?” he asks, chuckling when you try to thrust your hips onto him yourself. he follows your movements, gently pulling back and easily sinking into your entrance.

“fuck, yes, i’m sure,” you moan breathlessly.

jimin is increasingly vocal as your walls clamp down around him, sucking him in each time he pulls out. he’s panting and repeating your name like a mantra, and you aren’t faring much better.

“jimin, make it hurt,” you cry out, muffled into the pillow you’ve buried your face into.

he bends your knee up further to spread you wider for him and picks up his pace, thighs clapping against your ass deliciously. the bed springs are crying out for help, the headboard banging against the wall as he carries you to the brink of another orgasm.

“baby, i’m close,” you whimper.

jimin moans gibberish in response, a sure sign that he’s almost there, too. you clench your muscles down on him, causing the flurry of noises from his mouth to increase.

the ball of heat is growing within your core, sweat beading on your forehead. you reach your arm behind you to hook around jimin’s neck, turning your head to face jimin. and that’s really what does it.

he looks destroyed, eyes closed and eyebrows scrunched together. his mouth is hanging open, his chest visibly rising and falling as he rapidly thrusts into you, chasing ultimate relief.

you’re suddenly thrown into another orgasm, the feeling of your walls spasming around jimin’s cock giving him the final push he needs.

you watch with dazed eyes as he quickly pulls out and strokes his cock in his hand, warm ropes of cum spurting from his tip to your ass, some drops landing on your lower back.

jimin breathes heavily behind you, and while it’s tempting to cuddle you back to sleep, he begins to shuffle off the bed.

“noooo,” you whine in complaint, reaching out for him with a limp arm.

“i’ll be right back,” he coos, leaning over to kiss each of your knuckles before standing up and leaving you in the room.

he comes back minutes later with a cloth in one hand and a glass of water in the other. after passing the glass to you, he climbs back into bed and swipes the wet fabric over your backside.

once he’s deemed you clean, he tosses the rag onto his other clothes littering the floor, and settles back into the mess of sheets and pillows. he reaches out to help as you turn your weak body around so you’re facing him, arms looping around his neck.

the air in the room is thick, an aspect confirmed by the distant sound of the air conditioner clicking on. nonetheless, you bury yourself into jimin’s neck, smiling when you feel the drag of his bottom lip against your ear as he collects himself from a yawn.

you’re almost drifting off when you hear his voice, but you’ve missed what he said. you hum in an unspoken request for him to repeat himself, straightening up to show him you’re listening.

he takes a breath, then pauses for a moment. you can hear that he’s debating something in his head, and just as you’re about to try to encourage him, he comes out with a rare statement.

“can i tell you a secret?”

your interest is piqued by his request, opening your eyes with an eager nod.

jimin hates secrets, so he tends to tell you everything. some may say he overshares; you, however, would disagree.

“‘course,” is all you can manage, completely spent as numb fingers search to interlock with his own.

“when this is all over,” he starts, tracing his thumb along your knuckles and stopping at your fourth finger, “i’m gonna marry you.”

your breath hitches in your throat, eyes widening as you search for any hint of teasing in his features.

what you find instead is a gentle gleam in his eye, pupils staring into your soul as he glows from the inside out. he looks as if a weight has been lifted from him, and you wonder how long he’d been thinking about this before he gained the courage to put it out there.

you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, covering your face with open palms as you break out into a giddy grin.

“you can’t just say that,” you laugh, allowing him to pull your body up and over him so that you’re lying on his chest.

“well, for now, i’m just saying it,” he retorts, “but i fully plan on being your husband for as long as you let me.”

you run your fingers across his pecs as you let his words soak in, nuzzling your cheek into his chest with increasingly misty eyes.

“i’d really like that.”

311 notes · View notes

bangtangalicious · 10 months ago

Text

placebo (m) | pjm (3)

pairing: jimin x reader (ft. jungkook & namjoon)

premise: you're assigned a soulmate backed by the science of compatibility that hopes to promote healthier, long-lasting, loving relationships. you find yours: park jimin is the exact opposite of you. a member of a notorious resistance gang, he doesn't believe in science, love, or the state.

summary: you find out that jimin isn't your true soulmate. he was a placebo - a series of control trials to see if simply thinking someone is your soulmate would be enough to make you fall in love. the issue is, you did. you did fall in love. hard.

genre: 18+ romance, smut, angst, soulmate!au, dystopian, love triangle, romeo-juliet, opposites attract, hurt-comfort

characters: student!reader, vigilante!jimin, student!jungkook, scientist!namjoon

warnings: 18+, contains smut, angsty smut, rough penetrative sex, creampie, cock warming, breast play, a lot of kissing. like a lot. emotional sex, oral sex (m), fingering, praise kink, jimin is a pro at snapping that bra off, a lot of stimulation, a lot of foreplay, aftercare, they're in love okay it's cheesy, feelings of fear, hurt, government conspiracy, medical procedure, memory loss, cursing

taglist: @tornparts @loona15 @effielumiere @agustdream8 @jnghs @dragons-flare @xiusmarshmallow @ratherbefangirling @infires-imagines @aretha170 @dvalitaes @kookiejeonie @ddaeng-angmoh @idk123906 @cuteipat @uarmyhore @natalie-rdr @yawnkive @sukunabitch @withluvjm @thesmeraldogirl @theceraunophilegirl

Jimin—

“We’re not actually soulmates.”

Disappointment couldn’t even begin to explain what Jimin was feeling as he saw your eyes shatter in front of him. His heart was already beating wildly with a sense of pounding worry—all from your tears. He wasn’t the kind of guy who expressed himself. He was a pawn. A soldier, of sorts. He took action.

Right now, he was paralyzed. Every drop of blood drained from him in one rush of cold. He was left with nothing. Not even your touch held enough comfort to warm the life back into him. His breath even, mocking him with a charade of calmness.

You continued to explain. He heard you—he swore he did, but everything seemed to numb him from comprehending.

“It was a placebo, where the chip signals but we aren’t actually compatible. So the basis for everything we felt—or everything we think we feel, was a lie. Jungkook found out and,”

Jimin blinked. Looking at you. You were still there. You were still real. Your eyes swollen with tears. Hearing your words hurt, but seeing you like this hurt even more. He needed to be strong for you—you were falling apart in front of him, and he was too stubborn to let you.

He wasn’t going to let you go.

Because he didn’t care. He didn’t care—in fact, a rush seemed to pulse into him, beckoning him onwards—the fact that you might have been some government-implanted craving he had was the only reason he was trying to stay away from you initially. You fought for him. And fuck, he loved you. It was too soon to say it. Hell—probably too soon to feel it but he didn’t have a doubt in his mind.

Last night, as he fell asleep in your arms, all he could wish for was to have that every day for the rest of his life. He had never felt so strongly bound to another person. Never felt so seen, so cherished.

This wasn’t about some microchip in your necks. To him, it never had been. You cared for him when he was hurt. You were a fucking nerd, obsessed with your geeky job in a way that enamored him. You worked so hard, were so fiercely determined and dedicated to your cause. You were messy, clumsy, a stickler for rules where Jimin liked to bend them, break them, or ignore them altogether.

He loved the person you were, unfiltered—he loved the person you wanted to become, and most of all he loved the way you loved him. Your heart on your sleeve. Calling out his bullshit. And always being exactly what he needed even if he didn’t know it himself.

And he knew all of this. So why did he feel so fucking terrified?

Jimin swallowed deeply. His hand leaving your face as you searched him for a reaction through glassy eyes.

“Tell me what this means to you, doctor” His words were hushed. His fingers gliding over your wrists before circling them into his hold. His lips hovered over yours, foreheads resting against one another.

Jimin wasn’t an idiot. He knew exactly what it meant to you. But he needed to hear you say it. He knew how hard you had fought for him. He had tried so hard to push you away, but you persisted because you believed in the Soulmate Initiative so strongly. That had been the catalyst. For you—it had been the condition of your love.

“Jimin” You exhaled. The regret in your voice carved into his heart.

“You know that never mattered to me” His grip on your wrists tightened, as if his touch would make you understand. It was all he could do to not scream—not begin to pathetically beg you not to care. Not to change anything—not to leave him.

He could see you scrambling for words. “There’s still a chance—” You attempted to reason. Because that’s who you were. Hard facts and logic. Your voice choked—Jimin couldn’t look at you a second longer. It was too fucking painful. Too painful to sit there and watch as you gave up on him.

He needed to leave. Get far away from you and think. Because right now he felt so helpless, so powerless—he didn’t trust himself not to say something he’d ultimately regret.

His eyes were red, wet with anger. A façade to cover the shattering in his chest.

“I have to get to class, doctor” His voice was serene. His gaze, tumultuous.

“Jimin please,” You tried to pull him back as he stood up. He yanked his hand away from you, rougher than he meant to, but enough for you to get the hint. “I’m so sorry”

He took a few steps towards the door. Turning back, he looked at you one last time. Your tear-stained cheeks. Your quivering lips.

“I’m not sorry” He swallowed thickly. Pulling on his leather jacket and grabbing his helmet, he tucked in under his arm. “I will never be sorry for falling for you, doctor”

“There might—” Jimin held up his palm.

“I’ll come back” His eyes softened as if to ease your anxiety, “We can talk about this later”

He was out of the door in seconds, unable to look you in the eye again. The fresh, cold air hit him like salvation from the tension. He gasped, breathing the sharp air in as his tears unleashed.

Sinking to the floor, he buried his head between his knees. His fingers gripping his hair in frustration as he sobbed quietly. He jerked his head back, hitting the door as he punched the ground next to him. Cursing loudly as he crumbled.

You—

Jimin would be back any second. You’d never felt quite so nervous. So anxious—not even when you opened your decision letter for your PhD program—not ever. He’d be back. Be home. And you two would have to face the impending doom you’d introduced to him.

More than anything, you felt guilty. Guilty that you were responsible for what he was going through right now. After trying so hard to convince him that he even deserved love, let alone from you—to gain his trust and then put him into this grey space of uncertainty. It wasn’t lost on you how unfair it was.

The mere thought of living your life like you had before Jimin—was pointless. He had awoken something within you. As frustrating as he was, as much of a tease and a flirt—he made every day feel like an adventure. He brought you to life in a way nothing else quite did.

But if your real soulmate was out there, you couldn’t help but wonder. Was it all fake attraction? Was what you could find with someone you were truly compatible with even better than this? More magical? More right?

You had to know.

And you knew Jimin wouldn’t see it that way. But even if you chose to ignore it—to let it go, it would drive a wedge between the two of you inevitably. Jimin’s flaws seemed to glare at you in a way that they hadn’t before. Everything impossible about your relationship seemed to weigh on you because you didn’t have the blind faith in the system anymore. You didn’t have the promise that this is how it was supposed to be.

The ring of your doorbell sent your heart into somersaults. You buzzed him, nervously tugging at your sleeves. You wanted to look pretty for him—unsure if that was cruel of you, but you couldn’t help but think that these were a collection of your final moments together.

He walked inside. Tired eyes, raven hair wispy from the wind. The cold tinting his cheek and nose. His black motorcycle jacket hugged his figure. The familiar scent of cigarettes and gasoline which you had come to associate with comfort. A scent that once made you nauseous.

Slugging his backpack off, he set it aside. Neatly, he unlaced his boots before stepping inside. He regarded you with a soft smile. His deep brown eyes were simultaneously relieved and broken.

“Hey you”

You approached him slowly, immediately wrapping your arms around his torso. You inhaled him. His unadulterated bliss. He was cold, but so warm. And when his arms wrapped around you, cradling your head to the crook of his neck, leaning into you—you wanted to simply melt.

You looked up. His pretty eyes—the way he looked at you—God. His touch flushed you over with heat as his palm reached your cheek, thumb caressing over your jaw, teasing your bottom lip.

You didn’t know what to say to him. It seemed, you didn’t need to say anything. Jimin sighed into you, his lips relaxing against yours. So soft. So tender. Incredibly sweet.

And you wouldn’t stop him. Maybe it was avoidance. The impending melancholy of the night you were about to have. The inevitable heartache. You deepened the kiss, pulling Jimin closer to you desperately.

He grinned against your lips as you did. Hands falling to your hips before cupping the backs of your thighs. He lifted you up, still kissing you with the same delicateness. Taking you to the couch where he sat you both down.

Falling to his back, you crawled on top of him. Lips not parting. Breaths getting heavier.

Because when you kissed, nothing else mattered. Nothing else even existed. There was only him. Him and the storm of pleasure brewing in your chest. The heat coursing through your veins. The dizziness spinning in your head.

His fingers curled over your hip as he flipped you down. Hovering over you now, he admired you. Eyes memorizing your every crevice. His chain fell from his neck, the cool metal making you shiver as it glided across your hot skin.

He peeled off his jacket, leaving only his tight white t-shirt, before returning to you. Body caging yours in. Forearms resting on either side of your face as his fingers traced your cheeks.

“I don’t tell you enough” He murmured. You raised your eyebrows, curious. “You’re so fucking beautiful, doctor. So pretty,” His eyes were half-lidded, kissing you chastely, “Sexy..gorgeous..mine” He smacked against your lips between each word—sending a rush of praise to your head.

And you loved it. You loved his words like they were feathers tickling against you. His voice was silk and you wanted to dance in it for eternity.

The pressure of his body felt incredible against yours, his heat like a blanket. You’d never felt so safe—so cherished in his hold.

“Where the hell did you even come from, doctor?” He hummed playfully against your lips, “How the hell find me? You’re a fever. You’re my disease and my cure”

You tugged at his chain, urging him to kiss you harder. To glue his lips to yours.

He groaned, hips rolling flush against yours as his mouth worked you into serenity. You could feel how badly he needed you, but he was taking his time. On the other hand, you were frantic. Your fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. Tugging it up his torso as he chuckled. You could feel his scalding skin on your fingertips. Exploring the expanse of him. The contours of his body, the soft skin.

His teeth tugged at your lip, nipping at you playfully as you scratched your nails against his chest. He finally allowed you to pull this shirt over his head, giving you a moment to admire him, chain contrasting against his golden skin before you tugged off your own top.

You were left in sheer light green bra. Delicate. Something you had bought as a joke a long time ago, wondering if it would actually make you feel more confident. Jimin’s pupils darkened.

“Let me” He exhaled shakily. You turned over, on your knees as Jimin held you up—one hand on your neck pulling you back to him. His fingers gripped your jaw as he kissed your cheek, smirking against you as his other hand expertly snapped your bra off. So fast that it sent shivers down your spine. He replaced where the latch once was pressing into your back with his own lips, kissing up your spine until melting at your nape.

You arched your back as the bra slid down your arms, onto the floor. Jimin’s coarse fingers immediately covering your breasts. Pinching your nipple between his fingers sensually. Trailing butterfly kisses up your neck. You twitched under his touch. Small, needy gasps leaving your parted lips.

He hummed with pleasure, tasting you across your jaw, chest pressed against your back.

“So good to me,” He kissed your cheek. The blisters on his fingers against the soft skin of your breasts making his touch so incredibly erotic, it had you weeping in your core. His touches so subtle, and yet you were reacting to him so desperately. Craving him, overwhelmed by how fucking good it felt when he touched you.

“Please” You weren’t even sure what you were asking for. He chuckled softly, teeth grazing against your ear. “Jimin p-please”

“I love that. I love it when you ask me so nicely like that” He pushed you down on all fours. You let out a surprised gasp at his sudden roughness, but your cunt tightened. He pulled off your jeans, and then his own. Leaving your panties on he grabbed a handful of your ass and squeezed it.

“So fucking perfect,” His large hands moved all over the flesh of your thighs. He let two fingers tease along your damp slit. “What’s this huh? Wet for me already baby?”

His fingers pushed the cloth aside, finding your tender clit. You bit back a moan as he began to trace small, slow circles. He leaned down on you, the feeling of skin on skin riling you up even further. His lips caressed the back of your shoulders with hums of approval as his fingers continued to coax you. His other hand holding your hip steady. Pinching your ass tenderly.

“Jimin” You gasped breathlessly, fingers gripping the couch tight. His fingers continued to push you further and further towards nirvana. He pulled you up suddenly, fingers still on your clit—but he needed to see you. Needed to look into your eyes as you came. Hand wrapped around your neck, enough to feel his control but not enough to choke you.

“You gonna cum for me doctor?” Jimin teased, forcing your jaw towards him. A grin on his lips mirrored the mischievous glint in his eyes. You nodded pathetically.

“Yeah?” His tone raised, taunting you further as he smashed his lips back on yours. Tongue pushing through your lips as his fingers circled your clit faster. Your moans were swallowed by him—body going limp as waves of pleasure crashed down on you. Your body bucking forward, taking Jimin down with you. Twitching all over as your cunt leaked onto his hand. His rough, desperate kisses muffling your screams.

“That’s it baby, so good for me” His fingers led you through the aftershocks before dipping into your sensitive cunt. “So good and wet all for me, right?”

He pulled himself off of you, and you turned, on your knees—reaching for his cock.

“I want to suck your cock”

Jimin blinked at you incredulously.

But you were determined. You began to stroke him gently. He hissed, reaching behind you to steady himself against the back of the couch.

“You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you baby?” He leaned down to kiss you cheek. You looked up at him, eyes earnest—because you wanted him to feel so good.

You wanted to make up for all the pain you knew you were about to cause him. He deserved everything—heaven and the stars and everything beyond, you wanted him to have it all. For now, you let your lips kiss the flushed tip of his cock.

“F-fuck,” He reached for your chin, stroking your jaw tenderly. “You’re so good to me baby fuck”

“I,” You diverted your eyes with shame as heat crawled over your cheeks. “Tell me what to do”

Jimin gulped, eyes shifting as he understood your words.

“Open wide” He pushed two fingers against your lips until your mouth opened enough for him to slide them inside. “No teeth okay baby—and then just take it in as far—” He pushed his fingers down your throat. You tried your best not to gag, until finally you couldn’t help it. He pulled his fingers out, a string of saliva following. “As you can”

His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, tugging on it playfully as he cooed at you. It was the eagerness in your eyes. The fierce determination he knew you were feeling to please him.

“You’re so” He chuckled softly, “God I—” He choked on his words.

Now was hardly the time.

You beamed at him, taking his cock into your mouth little by little. His head tilted back as he cursed to himself.

You loved seeing him like this—amazed that you could make him feel like this. Motivated by his response, you began to slowly bob your head. He exhaled verbally, letting out a loud groan.

“Just like that baby, fuck—good girl” His voice was pained as if he was losing his resolve and it only fueled you to move faster. He tugged your hair, giving you a warning stare. “If you do that I’m gonna cum baby. Slow down”

You gave him a mischievous look, deciding to disobey.

“Y/n” His voice was low, demanding. He recognized you were teasing him, and as much as he wanted to fuck you—he couldn’t bring himself to stop you. His thumb swiped at the drool from the edge of your lips. A shock rippled through his body as he reached for your shoulder to keep him steady.

“Fuck. Fuck. Baby I’m—” His hips bucked, cock twitching inside your mouth as you felt his warm cum on your tongue. You let him go, swallowing his cum—and before you could even process it, he lifted you up, forcing your legs around his waist and carried you to your bedroom.

He laid you down on the covers gently, kissing the inside of your thighs, all the way up your stomach, where he showed you a little extra love, up to your breasts—he nibbled on them playfully, loving the way you’d twitch for him. His eyes stayed glued to yours. Dark and needy.

“I’m gonna need a little bit” Jimin confessed after deciding your breasts had been abused enough by his mouth. For now. He let his fingers continue to toy with them as he hovered over you. “But we should talk, hm?”

You inhaled sharply.

“Y-yeah we should”

Jimin grinned, taking a peak back into his mouth, this time letting his tongue run rampant on the plushness.

“Jimin” You hissed, grabbing his hair.

“You taste so good baby, I can’t help it” He kept on kissing your chest. Rolling onto his side, he pulled you into his embrace. Your naked bodies intertwined as his hands roamed all over you. You cradled his head against you, fingers running through his silky black hair.

You whimpered, hopelessly aroused by his actions. Your pussy pulsing, wishing so badly to be stuffed.

“I need you” You nudged him. “I need you so bad”

Jimin grinned, pulling away from you. He kissed you softly.

Then his eyes grew serious.

“Y/n” His tone had changed. He wasn’t teasing anymore. “If I asked you to just let it go,”

“You know I can’t” You responded. Jimin looked away. His fingers still tracing your sides.

“Yeah” He said after some time, kissing your cheek, “I know”

You gulped, cupping his face in your hands. “Can I just say that, right now, in this moment, based on every experience I’ve had in my life up to this point—I love you?”

Jimin scoffed, but he couldn’t hide the smile in his eyes.

“I just need to know”

“If there’s someone else, you mean.” Jimin gave you a pointed look. “What happens then, doctor?”

“If someone else is my soulmate, that also means someone else is yours. I can’t keep you from that”

“I know I don’t want that” Jimin gripped your hips possessively, pulling you impossibly closer. “I don’t care. I love you”

A tear rolled down your cheek. The hurt that you so blissfully ignored moments before, returning.

“I’ll meet Dr. Kim Namjoon at the conference in a few days. He can check for us, and then”

“You already know though, don’t you?” Jimin challenged. “You think we aren’t compatible”

You paused. “Well I—”

“Go ahead, doctor” Jimin smiled, a hint of despair in his gaze, “Go meet your soulmate. No one in this universe will love you the way I do, I am sure of it. So sure that I’ll take the chance of losing you forever if it means you’ll believe me one day”

He began to get emotional. You ached for him. Ached for the pain he felt in his chest. The pain you didn’t want him to feel.

Your hand rested on his chest. Feeling the beat of his heart against the tense silence.

He kissed you again. Desperately. His fingers tugging your panties aside as his now hard cock slid against your folds.

You kissed him back—even more desperately. Savoring whatever you had left with him. Losing yourself in him as though time were running out. Spreading your thighs to grant him entrance, he fucked into effortlessly. Filling you up until you felt so right—so whole. He stilled, nose tracing yours as he gazed into your eyes.

Tears threatened the edges of his pretty brown eyes.

“I don’t trust them Y/n” He whispered, the tear unleashing, “What if they brainwash you—what if seeing your soulmate resets your brain chip and—” He gasped, lip trembling.

“I won’t forget you, Jimin” You assured him with a comforting hand stroking his back.

“You don’t know that” Jimin gulped.

The true fear in his eyes hit you like a reality check. Reminding you that this man had no trust in the system, and you were asking him to take a gamble on it.

“Maybe you’re not supposed to know about the Placebo. Maybe they’ll do something to you, and me—and you’ll be in danger and I won’t know”

You kissed him sweetly. “Baby” You mumbled, knowing you’d never called him that— “Don’t think like that”

“I mean the fact that we fell in love, without the compatibility assessment, means the whole system is bullshit—doesn’t it? They could pick any two people and condition them to love one another with the chip. That’s not something they’d be okay with people knowing”

“N-not necessarily” You sighed. “Baby—move” You urged him, as if he forgot his cock was nestled deep inside of you. He hadn’t.

He gave you a tight thrust. Your lips parted, and he did it again, watching your expression intently. He held you close—you held him close. He buried his face into your neck, pushing you onto your back so he could fuck you deeper. His hips slammed against yours, deep, quick thrusts that you could feel throughout every inch of your body.

“You’re heaven” Jimin gasped, kissing your cheek again, “I don’t think you fucking understand what I feel for you, doctor—I swear I”

“I do, Jimin” You assured him, “I feel it” He began fucking you faster. “And I love you”

He stilled so he could kiss you again. “Say it again” He begged, “Please. Say it, mean it, please”

“I love you” You stared into his starry eyes. His fingers intertwined with yours, pushing your arms above your head as he resumed his ruthless pace. His lips pasting against yours in between your confession, “I love you Jimin—I do—So much”

He burst inside you, but he couldn’t stop. The moment was too charged, too emotionally ripe. He kept himself sheathed inside of you, cum stuffed deep. Hugging you close, he kissed you—a man addicted, and you were his vice.

You fell asleep, at some point.

You heard him whisper against your eyelids—I won’t give up, at some point.

You woke up, at some point.

He was gone.

You—

You arrived at the conference. You hadn’t heard from Jimin since that night—but preparation kept you distracted. This was a huge moment for your career—and you’d worked too hard to fall short now.

Jungkook was by your side, dressed in a light grey suit—the conference badge contrasting the plain white button-down shirt that gripped his chiseled chest. Around you were folks of similar adornment—chatting with their colleagues, setting up posters and grabbing coffee.

“Good—you made it” Your boss, Jung Hoseok, who you loathed approached the both of you. “Is everything set up for my talk later?”

You exchanged an irritated look with Jungkook, who bit back a smile. “Yes, sir”

Dr. Jung hummed, pleased with your response. “Very well. Go network. This conference has the best of the best. Y/n, I know you were interested in meeting Dr. Kim, would you like me to make an introduction?”

You stiffened. Dr. Kim Namjoon. He was the most brilliant biochemist of your time. He single-handedly piloted the Soulmate initiative with the help of his neuro-engineering team. He developed the compatibility algorithm that you spent your whole life studying. Appreciating.

He was infamous. And it didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous too—you had all of his books, memoirs, magazine articles. It was safe to say you knew quite a bit about the man. And soon he’d be right in front of you. In the flesh.

“If you don’t mind” You held back your excitement, but your hand trembled, gripping onto the pamphlet that a volunteer had forced into your hold earlier. Dr. Jung nodded, motioning for you to follow him.

“I’ll come too, if that’s okay” Jungkook quipped. You made a face, but knew you had no right to take this opportunity from him either, as much as you preferred to meet him alone to discuss your dilemma.

Up the elevator, Dr. Jung led the both of you to the top floor of the hotel in which the conference was taking place. From the clear glass, you could see the city sprawled out—serene, snow beginning to melt off of the ground. More folks were out and about. Children playing in the now cleared-up parks. Spring was coming, soon.

You stepped out of the elevator, and were met with a series of guards lining the hallway. It made sense; you mused. Kim Namjoon was a high-ranked State scientist. Which meant he was a prime target for a Resistance kidnapping or attack.

Your lips wavered. A part of you was disappointed at the lack of hope you had that you’d find out you and Jimin were compatible. Your gut knew you weren’t. But you loved him, so it could be. It could be him, right?

Why did you love him, if you weren’t compatible? It was so easy to think of all the reasons—so simple in your mind, but hard to find the words. You trusted him with your life. He was attractive, kind, in a bad situation but had big dreams. Dreams to make change, and you admired that.

As you walked past the guards, Jungkook’s hand brushed against yours. You looked his way and he winked at you excitedly. “You ready?”

He whispered against your neck. Too close—maybe it hadn’t been before, but now it felt too close. Nevertheless, you smiled back at him and nodded.

It occurred to you that Jungkook might be your real soulmate.

“Namjoon!” Dr. Jung opened the double doors to the suite. You took the room in. Hardly a room—there was a whole lab set up in there. Humming with the soft whirr of state-of-the-art machinery, bright white lights everywhere. Translucent monitors display complex molecular structures and neural pathways. Simulations.

The middle of the room had a holographic interface projected a three-dimensional model of a chip. The chip. Tiny filaments extended from the chip, resembling delicate neurons connecting to an unseen network.

Your heart skipped a beat. This was paradise.

There was not a drop of chemicals in this lab. Everything was tech-based, simulation and modeling predicting chemical interactions, hormonal regulation, neural response and bodily action.

“Hey Hobi” You heard a low, smooth voice. Your clenched your fingers into your palm. Taking a deep breath, you turned the corner where Dr. Kim was sitting.

God.

He sat casually on a stool set up by a plain workstation. He was dressed in a black turtleneck, black trousers—his black hair gelled up. You’d neve seen him without a white-coat on, as that’s how he tended to appear in media pictures. Here, in front of you now, he was relaxed. He was just a person. He was a man.

His dimpled smile made your throat tighten. A smile that reached his eyes with such a genuine glimmer. He greeted Dr. Jung with a suave fistbump, exchanging some words with him before chuckling lightly, patting him on the back and swiveling his chair towards you and Jungkook.

His smile widened.

“Hey there” He nodded his head politely. Both you and Jungkook bowed slightly. “So you’re the poor kids who got looped into helping this motherfucker” Your eyes widened at his comment, but Dr. Jung simply rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah—I’ll see you downstairs. Drinks tonight? The usual?” Dr. Jung pointed at him for confirmation as he reached the door. Namjoon nodded.

“Of course Hobi, I’ll see you later” He redirected his full attention to the both of you, shutting the computer in front of him. “Please, take a seat” He motioned behind him and a small robot pushed two stools over to where you were standing.

“I’m Y/n L/n” You extended your hand to him.

“Ah yes, I’ve heard about you. You study my work, huh?” He winked, making your face rush with heat. His eyes passed over to Jungkook. “And you?”

“Jeon Jungkook, honored to be here, sir”

“Good. Good, so tell me about yourselves”

“Actually” You exhaled. “Dr. Kim, if you don’t mind—there’s a matter I’d like to discuss with you”

He raised his eyebrows. Folding his arms over his strong chest in a way that made you aware that this man worked out, he leaned back. “Oh, sure. Let’s hear it then”

You were about to speak when Jungkook interrupted.

“Y/n’s soulmate was a placebo. We’d like to run the compatibility test to find out who her real soulmate is”

Your mouth felt dry. Namjoon’s eyes flashed with interest, gaze remaining steady on you.

“How’d you figure it out?”

You looked at Jungkook.

“I uh, hacked some data” Jungkook confessed, shyly.

Namjoon let out a soft laugh.

“Well alright. As you know, any scientific RCT trial needs a control group. We use these placebos to understand the actual effect of the Soulmate algorithm’s deployment on the outcomes of interest. Procreation, individual health and wellness, etc.”

He was speaking to you. Directly to you, even though Jungkook was right by your side.

“The way the chip works is that you see someone who surpasses your compatibility threshold. There isn’t one soulmate. I suppose there could be, but we have to factor in proximity and chance for encounter. That’s why the microchip will only give the Soulmate signal once you meet someone who has also passed the cognitive-sexual threshold who surpasses your compatibility level. Another threshold, unique to each person and defined by many metrics”

It was nothing you didn’t know. Jungkook on the other hand, was fascinated.

“Wait so, both and Y/n and I were past out cognitive-sexual threshold and we saw each other all the time before she met…her placebo. I didn’t meet her compatibility threshold?”

Namjoon seemed to bit back a giggle. “Well, Jungkook? Is it? Right, it goes both ways. She didn’t meet yours either” His eyes flashed at you. You couldn’t help but notice that they were honey-brown, almost gleaming gold in the light.

Jungkook seemed to recede into himself.

“Is there a way I can check my compatibility with my placebo soulmate?” You asked, tugging at your sleeves.

“Well, I suppose” Namjoon took a second to think, “If you know where they are right now, and get to them without looking too many people in the eye” He chuckled.

Right, you mused.

“Because if you reset my chip, and I see someone else, it’ll register they’re my soulmate before I can even look Jimin in the eye” You mumbled.

“Exactly. We can do that, if you’d like. But no law says you must be romantically involved with your soulmate. Either way, your choice is still your own”

You gulped. You just had to know.

“Please, if it’s alright, can you reset my chip?” The words felt like acid leaving your mouth. Namjoon shrugged nonchalantly.

“Sure thing. Jungkook—this is a medical procedure, technically. We will need some privacy”

“Oh, right” Jungkook scrambled to his feet, rushing out the door rather quickly. Namjoon reached for a tablet set near the window and tapped a few buttons. Some robots arrived, removing the table and stools and setting up a medical bed in it’s place.

“Do you not like your placebo soulmate?” Namjoon asked, while the robots were at work.

“Actually I like him a lot.” You confessed. “But I believe so strongly in the benefits of your algorithm. So I just need to know for sure”

Namjoon squinted at you, but nodded.

“Do most placebos work out?” You blurted, covering your stomach with your crossed arms. “Is there a statistically significant difference between outcomes with truly compatible soulmates and placebo ones?”

A grin tugged at Namjoon’s lips. The robots finished setting up the medical equipment and he motioned for you to lie down.

“What do you think, Y/n?” Namjoon mused as he connected a few wires to the back of your neck. “Do you think placebos would work out the same way? Is believing someone is your true love enough to make you love them?”

You gulped. His fingers brushed against your nape as he plugged in your chip.

Until it hit you.

“It doesn’t matter” The thoughts came to you as the words left your mouth, “It isn’t even about love. Compatibility. Or health.” Your eyes quivered as you noticed Namjoon’s grin widening.

“I-It’s about your faith in the State” You drawled, “If you believe in the State—in the Soulmate Initiative, then it’ll work. And if you don’t—”

You sat upright suddenly, feeling uneasy. Jimin’s fears echoing in the back of your mind.

“Don’t worry—you did fall in love. You clearly believe, so you have nothing to worry about.” Namjoon admired you for a moment. “You’re very smart, Miss. Y/n. It’s a shame it took us until now to meet”

Namjoon proceeded to tap a few more things on his tablet.

“Now before we do this, you should know. There is a small chance the reset will cause both you and your placebo soulmate to forget that you’ve seen each other. Not to worry, though, I can make sure that you head his way after the procedure to see if you two are compatible”

You gripped the edges of the seat with your trembling fingers.

“But don’t worry, you’ll be unharmed”

Forgetting Jimin—that’s harm. That’s fucking harm. Your mind was screaming warning.

“Wait actually I don’t—”

“Relax,” Namjoon placed a hand gently on your shoulder, pushing you back to your chair. “I’m here. I’ll tell you to go find this fella and look him straight in the eye before anyone else. You can trust me”

Strangely enough, you believed him.

“Okay”

“What’s his name?”

You hesitated. Drawing attention to Jimin’s citizen file wasn’t a smart idea given what you knew about him.

“P-park Jimin”

“Good. Now close your eyes. This might give you a brief migraine”

Jimin—

It had been pathetic. Jimin showed up at the steps of Jin’s home—the home he shared with a few other members of the resistance. It was late—he could hear the debauchery happening inside loud and clear. The familiar stench of tobacco and liquor radiated from the dim light behind the shuttered windows.

He inhaled sharply. He spent the whole day wandering. Trying to drown himself in schoolwork until even that seemed pointless. He needed a distraction. Something to ease the pain. Until he figured out how the hell he would get you back. He needed anything.

He sat down on the splintered porch steps, ignoring the fleet of giggles from what he assumed were sex workers. Staring at his palms, he recalled the sensation of your touch. His fingers curled into his palm, wishing your hand was there but instead grasping at the crisp late winter air.

“Well look here,” Jin’s familiar voice boomed from the entryway. Jimin looked back to see him, a flimsy tank top under his leather jacket which was being pulled off by a beautiful, voluptuous woman. “Ay, fuck off whore—that’s my little brother and oh,” Jin pouted, shoving the woman off of him, “He looks so sad” Jin leaned down to tug Jimin’s cheeks in a way he always used to do when Jimin was younger.

“Why you sad baby boy?” The woman cooed, “If you’d like, I can make it all better”

Jimin rolled his eyes, “No, thank you.” Redirecting his attention to Jin who slid down to sit by his side, a bottle of beer in his hand— “God, doesn’t it ever get a bit old hyung?”

Jin scoffed, “I’ve had about enough of you sitting on your high horse and judging us, Jimin. You are one of us. We’re at war. Well—” He took a sip, “We will be, soon enough, and we need you. Your brother was—”

Jimin hissed. Jin took the hint, luckily.

“Look,” His tone grew serious, “We had one of our mole’s hack into the microchip database. We were right. The kind of data they collect and the way they use it to strategically puppet aspects of our society—it’s robbing free will. Altering memories. Manipulating thought through exposure and environment. And because there’s not specific legislature that oppresses people, they play it off as the way the world works. No. They built these structures, Jimin-ah. We have proof.”

Jimin gazed up at the obscured night sky. Clouds veiled any semblance of starlight, mirroring the shadow over his thoughts.

“She isn’t even really my soulmate” Jimin chuckled bitterly. “It was a fucking placebo”

Jin stared at him for a moment, before his eyes softened with pity. “Fuck Jimin,” He handed him the bottle. Jimin took it, sipping the sour & bitter liquid. “You really like the bitch, huh?”

“Hyung” Jimin snapped. Jin simply chuckled.

“My bad, my bad. The scientist. Whatever the fuck her name is. Listen. If you want to know if your feelings are genuine or not, you need to take out your microchip. It’s the only way you’d know for sure. The fact that there is a placebo cohort for something like this is kinda fucked up. Whatever happened to ethics?” Jin scoffed. Jimin took another swig of the beer.

Should he? Should he take it out? The microchip was the physical embodiment of the state's reach into his very soul.

Jin could sense that Jimin was considering his idea.

“Honestly, it’s about damn time you did Jimin. Things are getting serious around here. We’re going to start taking real action, advocating for our cause. We want you in—we’ve always known you’re a smart kid. Good with words and all that. Hell, you’re not meant for the battlefield Jimin. You’re meant for a throne”

Jimin set the bottle down, again looking up to the skies. “I don’t want a throne. I just want to not be a fucking puppet anymore. For them, or for you guys”

“Then take what’s yours. This is what your brother wanted, Jimin. Be more involved. Take charge. Your girl didn’t give up on you—the state fucking manipulated her to give up on you. They took everything from you—it’s damn time you see that. It’s damn time you fight for what you deserve”

Fight. He was going to fight for you. He had promised you that. Promised himself that.

He reached for the back of his neck.

“Fuck the State” He mumbled, “I want this out. Let’s go”

Jin grinned ear to ear, “Fuck yeah!” He patted Jimin on the ack excitedly. “We’ve got a bot that can do it in the back, come on”

You—

“Y/n?” The soft call echoed in the sterile room. Your eyes, weighed down by the fog of unconsciousness, fluttered open. The harsh fluorescent lights above you forced a squint. A lingering scent of antiseptic filled the air, accompanied by the gentle hum of machines.

Behind you, a subtle tug and disconnect confirmed the unplugging of your chip from the machine. The cool room air kissed your skin, sending a shiver of unease through you.

“Good, your vitals are all normal. You’re doing great,” Namjoon's voice reassured. Turning, you saw his back as he typed notes on his laptop.

It came back to you: where you were. Who you were. Everything seemed to click. Your heart seemed to hurt. You couldn’t understand why.

“Do you remember Park Jimin?” Namjoon asked. You blinked in his direction.

“Who?” Your response was automatic, a clouded memory of someone fading into obscurity. The emptiness inside of you seemed to pulse.

Namjoon continued typing, his focus on the screen. “There’s a man,” he hummed, “I need you to go directly to him and look him in the eye to see if he is your soulmate or not. His file suggests he may be at the University Law Library. Try to minimize eye contact with strangers as you head there.” Namjoon turned back around.

You looked at him.

In those honey eyes. Those sweet, smiling, kind eyes.

A sharp pain in your neck burned.

They say you’ll just know.

come scream in my asks! thanks for reading you hotties~ lmk what you think <3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

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joonsy2k · 2 years ago

Text

★ pairings - Jimin x Fem!Reader

★ genre - smut , fluff.

★ summary - You were always told tales of a being that watched over you while you slept, you never knew that this being had an infatuation with you and would one day visit you in your dreams.

★ warnings - Dom!Jimin, Sub!Reader, somnophilia ( kind of ig ), Jimin being obsessive, dirty talk, lotta praise, use of angel, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex ( don't be silly wrap your willy ), riding, not proof read, spelling mistakes ( i'm dyslexic )

Jimin had been watching you ever since he could remember. He would frequently stand in the dark shadows of your room, watching as you drifted into peaceful slumbers that he had granted to you. Sometimes, he even dared to venture into the deepest parts of your mind, into your dreams.

He never got too close, it wasn't his place to interfere in your dreams but from afar he would add his own touch to your dreams, add things that would make you smile, and he always kept the nightmares away.

That was his job, to protect you from all the things that could possibly hurt you, wether it was in a dream state or not,

One day though, he ventured too far. He came too close to you.

When you were younger your mother had told you stories of a being who watched over everyone as they slept, a being who protected people from their own minds horrors. She called him the sandman.

It was a comfort to you when you were a child but as you grew older it began to sound like an old wives tale and your belief in the sandman dimished to just a story your mother told you to help you sleep at night.

Until one cold night when you were older, tucked up in your bed as you drifted into an uneasy sleep. Pictures of dark figures haunted your mind that night, watching you from dark corners of your apartment, you had felt the world closing in on you but you were pulled out, stolen a way by what you thought was a guardian angel.

The images plaguing your mind were wiped away with one swipe of your guardian angels hand and were replaced by bright walls, soft carpeted floors and a window where the moon shone onto the silk bedspread. It was your childhood home, your safeplace where you could be free from the horrors of the world.

Your guardian angel laid you down and tucked you in, tender fingers brushed over the loose strands of hair covering your pale face, the gentleness felt so real. You knew you were in a dream but some part of you wished and prayed that this was real, that this was happening.

"I'll always be here to protect you, my angel." The voice sounded distant. You felt a pair of soft lips press against your forehead and as you opened your eyes you were met with the sight of your dreary bedroom back in your lonely apartment, you were alone but you could still feel the ghost like feeling of soft lips on your temple.

You knew then, the sandman was not just a story from you were little. He was real and you knew, he was always watching over you.

The subway was full but what did you expect? Coming home this late at night it was bound to be full of drunkards and business men on their way home from their late working jobs.

And then there was you, coming home from a horrific blind date that your friend had set you up on. You thought this one would be different but once again, you were wrong.

You had at least expected to get something out of the date. Maybe you would bring the guy home, you'd fool around and then in the morning he would leave like nothing had ever happened but no, your friend had set you up with some low class lawyer who couldn't take his eyes off of your waitress's ass.

So, you had make up an excuse to leave early and now here you were, tugging down your low cut dress to hide your ass from peering drunkards, you were not that desperate.

The train ride home felt like hours long but eventually you were trudging up the lobby stairs to your shitty one bedroom apartment.

You kicked off your shoes as soon as you were inside and headed straight to your bedroom, well not before leaving a small bowl of milk by your living room window for the stray cat that visited every night.

After changing into your night clothes you laid on your bed, legs spread and laptop at the ready. If some blind date wasn't going to satisfy you, you were sure going to satisfy yourself.

You scrolled and scrolled until you found the perfecr vidoe, pressing play and slipping your hands into your pants. The sound of moans and groans filled your room and you pumped one finger in and out of you slowly..

But it wasn't enough even as you neared your orgasm you felt a pit in your stomach and it wasn't the good kind. Your ending was not a happy one and with an exsaperated sigh you shut down your laptop and burried under duvet, core still throbbing with an unfinished arrival.

You tossed and turned in your bed, peaceful sleep was so far but eventually your mind went blank and you were shrouded by darkness, sleeping at last.

Jimin thought you looked so angelic as you slept, he couldn't help but sit beside you, hand running down the curves of your hip.

He had watched you struggle to reach your climax but he was here now, Jimin knew that he was the only one who could satisfy your needs. He was the only one who could look after you and it pained him to see that you felt the need to chase after men who would never be what you needed.

You stirred in your sleep when his hands reached the waistline of your trousers, your eyes fluttering open to be greeted with a smiling Jimin, his eyes crinkling upwards.

Launching backwards caused him to land on his knees on your lumpy matress, hand coming forward to caress your cheek.

"Hey, don't be scared, It's me, just trying to look after you, angel." His touch felt so familiar, so comforting and so right. His fingers snuck into your panties, dancing over your wet folds "Told you i would always look after you, didn't I?"

With widened eyes, you finally recognised the face in front of you, you didn't know his name but you knew that this was the man, or being, who had saved you from that terrible nightmare years ago. The one who had soothed you back to sleep with a simple kiss, the man whose hands were now rubbing gently and your delicate clit.

Slowly, you relaxed under his fingers "There you go, you remember now, don't you?" Jimin grinned, he knew you felt safe with him, he could tell by the way you shuddered at his touch and the way you didn't fight to move his hand, you were enjoying this.

"How does that feel?" He questioned, fingers speeding up to rub circular patterns on your clit as his free hand rubbed the side of your face.

"Feels so good.." You muttered, the question of asking his name hanging off of your tongue.

"Jimin." The man in question answered.

His face moved closer to yours, lips trapping yours in a sweet kiss. He tasted oddly like you expected the night would taste, you couldn't fully describe it but it felt like a thousand stars were dancing on your lips that caused your mind to go hazy.

With his teeth enveloping your bottom lip with a small nip, your back arched, stomach swirling with butterflies. You squirmed under Jimin's touch.

"Uh uh, stay still for me, angel." The once soothing grip on your hip was now replaced by Jimin's firm grip, holding your hip in place to stop you from squirming "Don't cum just yet, ok."

You whined aloud when his fingers slipped out of your panties, leaving you feeling awfully cold and tense without the release you were so close to, it made him chuckle to see how desperate he made you feel.

He crawled on top of you. His midnight hair fell over his face covering those dark eyes that you swore were full of stars glinting in the moon light from your window, with one swift motion he had grabbed your wrist and moved it over to his erection, he moved your hand to rub over his pants.

"You feel that?" He let out a soft sigh at your touch "That's all for you, all for my angel." His words made you weak and you fumbled to undo the buttons of his jeans, the zipper slipping out of your hands.

A sweet laughter filled your ears, the dark haired boy moved to pin your wrists above your head, thumb rubbing at the soft skin. His free hand pulled down his own zipper in one swift motion, pulling his pants down and throwing them to some forgotten corner of your room. Then, he did the same with his shirt and then your clothes were thrown away.

"Please, need you." He stroked the tip of his cock against your sensitive clit, teasing you before his hands laced into yours and his hips thrust to bury himself deep inside of you with a small hiss.

You shuffled underneath him. He was bigger than you expected and your walls strechted to accomodate his size. It took you a moment but his slow thrusts soon helped you to adjust.

His lips met yours again, he moaned into your mouth, tongue swiping at your lower lip.

Your mouth fell open in a soft moan as he gripped your hips "Been waiting to fuck you for so long." Jimin mumbled almost breathlessly.

His thrusts were painfully slow and you pulled away from his lips, head falling backwards onto your pillow "Too slow, faster, please Jimin, please."

You felt the tip of his cock nudge at your g-spot, his lips curving to a smile that you felt on your, his tongue darting out to lick a small stripe up to his ear where he whispered "So desperate for me," his hips snapped forward, pushing your legs up to your chest allowed his thrusts to speed up considerably "No one else can fuck you like this, can they?" His jaw clenched.

Your lack of an answer must have annoyed him because he delivered a harsh slap to your ass that caused you to whine "You're the only one who can fuck me like this," your back arched as he continuesly hit your g-spot.

"That's it," Jimin reached down to between your legs, rubbing at your clit again. Your core clenched around him, eyes watering. You could feel that so familiar knot begin to build up in your stomach and clearly Jimin sensed it too "You close, angel? cum for me, c'mon."

Your body trembled as your orgasm washed over, fingers tangling into Jimin's hair, biting down hard on your bottom lip. You were surprised that you didn't draw blood.

Jimin's thrusts started to falter and it was apparent that he was also close and soon enough he spilt his seed inside of you, his head dropping into the crook of your neck with a shaky breath "Fuck." He muttered.

For a while you both stayed there, wrapped in each others arms until you felt your eyelids become heavy, you let out a yawn and Jimin rose from his position.

Jimin grabbed your bed covers, tucking them up beneath chin, he stroked your hair from your face and for the second time in your life, pressed his lips against the temple of your head.

"I will always look after you," he mumbled to your sleeping form "my angel." and with that.. he was gone

You woke up from your dream state with the feeling of his lips still on your forehead just like before.

Jimin was gone for now but you knew, you would see him again.

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hufflepuffwriter1995 · 4 months ago

Text

Finding The Pack

Pairing: Plus Size!Named Reader x BTS

Pack Status: Pack Alpha Namjoon. Alphas: Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook. Omega: Lilith (Reader)

Warnings: Brief Mentions of Omega Abuse (not by BTS), Mentions of Kidnapping, and Eventual Smut.

Themes: Omegaverse, Fantasy, Supernatural, Reverse Harem,

Ratings: 18+

Summary: On the night before she is set to marry the abusive Dorian Redfern, Lilith takes matters into her own hands and escapes. While life without a pack is dangerous, she knows she’s better off alone. At least, that is until she meets seven males, who quickly show her not only her worth but how beautiful life can be. She can only hope now that they are enough to keep her old life from catching up to her.

Chapter One

Prologue:

“Jin darling be careful.” Jisoo Kim laughs as she carefully pulls her three-year-old little boy away from the crib that holds her newest addition to the home-run daycare. Jin let out a whine of protest, little hands gripping the side of the crib as he freed himself, his face pressed against it.

“Gotta keep safe!” He cries, hazel eyes never leaving the slumbering baby. As a beta, his mother immediately knows what is happening and can’t help the grin that crosses her face. She will need to befriend the older couple that brought the pup in, if only because she will be damned if she takes away her son’s mate. Fears of him hurting the baby vanish with this newfound information and she smiles as she heads back to make lunch. Unaware that the text she sends along the way to the mother, a picture with the caption “It looks like we will be quite close” will cause the life she imagines for her son to vanish.

When the little girl is picked up that night, she is never returned and all of Jisoo Kim’s desperate attempts of contact go unanswered. When she finally goes to the address they had given her, she finds that oddly enough the family that just moved in moved out just as quickly. She will never be able to forget the look of pain in her youngest eyes or shake the feeling that something is very wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As an Alpha, Eliza Min hates being told what to do, especially by a Beta. However, when the couple arrives, begging for her help to watch their daughter, the same daughter that her youngest has been watching like a hawk from the safety of their backyard, she doesn’t decline. Even when the woman all but snarls her demand to keep any male child away from her daughter. Eliza Min finds the wording of the demand odd, especially on the insistence of it only being a male child. Odd enough she doesn’t stop Yoongi when he sits down and begins to play with the now almost one-year-old.

It’s because of her stubborn nature and the fact that she just does not like these people that she keeps the fact that Yoongi plays daily with the daughter for a year and a half. The truth only being discovered when the precious little thing that is that baby girl tells her father with so much excitement that she just can't wait to play with her boyfriend Yoongi.

The odd couple move in the middle of the night, leaving Eliza furious and her son heartbroken, demanding to know why they would take his little flower away from him. Eliza attempts to get the law involved but really, there isn’t a law stating that parents can’t be strange. As the years go on, Eliza can’t forget about the little girl and finds herself worrying that maybe, just maybe, her wolf is right and the strange marks were never just accidents.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sana Jung meets the family at a park. Her children, Hoseok and his twin Ryoko, are playing happily in the sandbox when a shy little girl approaches and asks to play. At once, Hoseok, her little Alpha in training, agrees and hands her most of his snack as they play. Insisting that she eat. Sana watches the three with a proud, motherly smile, a smile that turns sour at the look of fury on the other woman’s face as she drags her screaming child away. Her hissed words ringing in Sana’s ears. “Didn’t we tell you to stay away from boys?”

That night over dinner, she tells her Alpha’s everything, begging for them to do something. For the next three weeks her alpha’s look for the strange family. Finally coming back with the news Sana didn’t want to hear. They moved and no, they didn’t leave a new address. They don’t stop looking though, if only because of the way Hoseok had responded to the little girl's cries of distress, his first true snarl rumbling through his chest in a way that told Sana all she needed to know. Her son’s luna had just been ripped away and she would be damned if she allows that to continue.

~~~~~~~~

Crystal Kim was a true alpha, a pack leader among alphas. She was a force to be messed with. This is why, when the new couple across the street had a little girl who looked exactly as her friend Sana had described, she marched over there and introduced herself. As a couple of betas, neither could close the door on her, the wolves reacting to her despite not being a member of her pack. They couldn’t stop her from kneeling and speaking softly to their daughter, nor could they stop her from letting the little girl go and play with her Namjoon. She could tell both hated it, especially when Namjoon began presenting the same signs, the same protective displays an alpha has over their mate.

It didn’t come as a surprise to find that they had once again fled in the middle of the night. But it gave her all the information she needed to know. Something was up with the seemingly kind older couple and she would be damned if she didn’t figure out what was going on.

~~~~~~

SangHee Jeon had been watching her neighbour's children, Taehung and Jimin, along with her own little Jungkook when she met the couple. They were exhausted and cranky and left the girl on her doorstep with a list of very strict instructions. She had done her best to keep the little girl away from the three boys, but it was hard. The three boys did not want to be kept away from the girl and took it upon themselves to plot ways to go around her. She spent the better of her afternoon trying to explain to the three boys that it was not her insisting they kept away from the girl, but her parents and begged them to just listen. They would agree, for all of twenty minutes before she made some sound that had them gathered together in the corner whispering as they plotted a new way to get to her.

In the end, Sanghee had carefully asked if maybe next time they just allow the children to play together, only to be met with a snarled curse of “Fuck off” and “She’s a little slut, it's for their own good, not her’s.” She had bristled at the words and decided that the next time they showed up, she wouldn’t allow them to take the girl back. Only they never did come back and Sanghee was left with the itch that maybe she never should have allowed them to take her after that night.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Lilith turned sixteen she was hit with an ache in her soul. An ache that left her feeling empty, as if something was missing. She didn’t know what and didn’t dare try and broach the subject with her parents. They hated, HATED when she asked questions. Even something as simple as “What is for dinner” was met with a hard slap across the face and a cold reminder to not ask questions.

She spent most of her time since her sixteenth birthday locked away in the basement, kept hidden from everyone outside of her pack or rather her parent's pack. Their Alpha, a cold man named Carter, had told her that he knew the truth and wouldn’t accept a whore into his pack. So any hope she had of finding freedom was torn away by his cold words. Still, sometimes, in the dead of night, she remembered the comforting touch of a memory, of a boy she couldn’t quite remember and the gentle hands that had made her feel safe.

She had no idea that on her twentieth-ninth birthday, everything would change.

#bts hybrid x reader #bts imagines #jung hoseok smut #kim seokjin smut #kim taehyung smut #min yoongi smut #park jimin smut #bts fanfic #bts fantasy au #jeon jungkook smut #kim namjoon smut #bts omegaverse au

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bteezxyewriter12 · 4 months ago

Text

Falling

Pairing- Jimin x Named Reader

Word count- 5k

Includes- Door sex, oral, pussy eating, cum eating, floor Sex, riding, from behind, cock riding, missionary, rough sex, soft sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things

Gif Credit- butterjiminie

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Jimin Masterlist

Jimin POV

I’m trying not to get hard

But it’s impossible with Joanne near me.

Just looking at her makes me that way.

She’s in the dorm and me, her, Tae, Jungkook and Yoongi are watching a movie

She’s Jungkook’s best friend, since they were babies.

Her parents came to Korea for her dad’s job and the first people they met were Jungkook’s parents.

They were neighbors and the four of them instantly became friends

Both of their moms got pregnant at the same time.

Joanne was born first is January and Jungkook in September.

They’ve been inseparable since they were newborns.

They do everything together

They even got matching tattoos when Jungkook got his

She already had some but agreed when Jungkook asked her to get one with him.

It’s in the same spot on their bodies too.

Their ribs

I always thought she was fucking hot

She’s a mix of Spanish and Italian- and fuck that mix makes one sexy girl

Jungkook is next to me and she's on his other side, her head on his shoulder

I want her

Especially because I had her once already

Two months ago, we had sex

It just happened

I was alone in the dorm and she came to hang out with Jungkook and decided to wait for him

I stayed with her to keep her company and it just happened

It was seriously the best sex I ever had

Everything about her is perfect for me

I’ve had sex after her and it’s no where near as amazing as it was with her

I can’t stop thinking about her body and how good she felt

Honestly it’s just sex

I like her but only as a friend

And she feels the same

She asked if we can still be friends and not make it weird between us

I agreed and we haven’t spoken about it

Everything went back to normal

Except for my imagination and my need for her

I’m dying over here and she has no idea

--------------------------------

After the movie ends, she gets up and goes to Jungkook’s room with him to hang with him

“So Mortal Kombat?”, I hear him ask

“Yeah. I’m gonna kick your ass”

He laughs, “Oh Jo, you’re so cute”

“Shut up”, she giggles

I’m so jealous she spends time with him

I also wonder if she and Jungkook have ever been together

Or if they just see each other as best friends, like brother and sister

I get even more jealous just thinking that they might be going to be with each other

Fuck I need her

--------------------------------

“I’ll see you tomorrow Kookie”, I hear her say as she leaves his room

Here’s my chance

I fly off my bed and open the door to my room

She passes by and I pull her arm

“The fuck?”, she shouts, then turns to see me

I stare at her beautiful face and all words leave my brain

“Oh hey Jimin. You scared me. You ok?”

“Uh no”, I answer

God I sound like an idiot

“No? What’s wrong?”, she asks concerned

I pull her into my room and close the door

“Uh”, she says right before I kiss her

Fuck what am I doing?

I move my head back, pulling away to apologize but she pulls me back to her, kissing me

She lets me slide my tongue in her mouth and she moans

Fuck, yes

I pull away, “I need you. I need your pussy. I need to be inside you. I need to cum”

I’m honestly so shocked that I’m saying this

I’m just not thinking

She’s going to slap me

“Yeah Jimin?”

“Yeah”, I nod, “I can’t stop thinking about the last time. About you on me, how perfect I fit in you. I need you”

“So you just want to cum?”, she asks

“Yeah but I need it to be you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Sex with you has been the best I ever had and I need more”

“Ok Jimin.”

I’m shocked she’s agreeing

And not yelling at me

“Ok?”

“Yeah. Ok. Take what you want”, she smirks

Yes

Fuck yes

Pushing her against the door, my lips on hers, I start pulling her shorts and panties down

I feel her pulling mine and my boxers down too

Once both of us have them off, I grab her leg and wrap it around me, thrusting in hard.

Yes

Oh god yes

She’s just like I remember but better

“Fuck”, she yells

“Fuck Joanne, yes. God you’re so fucking tight. So good”, I moan

“Fuck me Jimin. Hard”, she asks

I start slamming in her hard, just going straight to rough sex

“Fuck yea!”, she yells

She gets so fucking wet and I feel it all over me.

She pulls at my shirt and lifts it off me, throwing it behind me

Her hands start running all over my back and in my hair

Her touches feel so fucking good

She’s wearing a flimsy tank top and I just grab the top and rip it down the middle, tearing it off her

“God Jimin. You’re so fucking hot”

I pull her off the door long enough to take her bra off then slam her back on it

“Yes baby. I love when you’re fucking rough”, she yells

Good because I love it too

We were rough all last time too

I slam in her and she tightens on me so tightly screaming my name and coming all over me

“Jimin! Fuck yes. God yes!”

“God baby you’re fucking amazing. You feel fucking amazing.”

I pull out and turn her around, pushing her against the door again

“Open”, I growl

She opens her stance wider and I thrust up in her again

Leaning over I kiss her back and her shoulders while slamming in her

“Fuck Jimin”, she moans loudly

“C'mon baby. You know you wanna cum again. Just do it”, I urge

“I..I…”

“Don’t I fuck you good enough to make you cum?”, I ask

“Yeah Jimin. Yes you do”

“Then cum baby”

I slide hard inside causing her loud scream and her pussy to throb on me when she orgasms again

God, so good

I move harder, turning so I’m leaning against the wall

I pull her against me, her back on my chest, her head on my shoulder

I lift one of her legs up, giving me better access to pound her pussy

“Jimin, oh god Jimin”

“Yea baby, scream my fucking name”, I growl kissing her neck and shoulder, thrusting so hard

“Cum baby”, I yell, “I need it. I fucking need it now”

“Jimin!”, she screams

Yes holy fuck yes

I love when she cums on me

I can’t get enough

Pulling out, I turn her back around again, against the door

Dropping to my knees, I open her legs more and lick her pussy

“Jimin”, she cries

“So good Jo. You taste so fucking good”, I moan, licking her

She does taste amazing

How I don’t know

I really don’t

But I love her taste and I want her in my mouth all the time

I think about it all the time

Sliding my tongue up, I flick her clit causing more screams

I love making her scream

“Joanne?”, I hear Jungkook come out of his room

I close my lips on her clit and suck

“Oh god Jimin”, she shouts

She shudders while I keep sucking on her and I love it

“Jo, where are you? I thought you were leaving?”, Jungkook calls

“Jimin, don’t stop. Jimin”, she whimpers

So I don’t, the next suck on her clit causes another orgasm

“Jimin fuck Jimin!”, she screams, her hands flying in my hair and holding my head to her pussy

I lick her and moan from how good she is

“Oh fuck baby. You taste so good”, I groan

“Jimin”, she moans

“What the hell?”, I hear Jungkook yell

“More Jo. I want more. Cum again. I want more in my mouth baby”, I moan, slurping on her clit, her cunt soaking my face in her sweet cream

“Shit Jimin”, she yells

“Please?”

“Yes, yes fuck yes”

I smirk and lick her, swirling my tongue all over her pussy

I hear the door knob turn and the door start to open

Without stopping, I reach out and slam the door closed

“Hey what the fuck?”, Jungkook yells

I let go of her for a second to shout, “Go away”, then move my tongue on her

“Jimin? What the hell? Is Jo with you? What are you doing to her?”

I ignore him and keep pleasuring her with my tongue, getting her closer to coming again

Fuck, I want it so much

I don’t know what’s wrong with me or why I want her this much

But I do

“Jimin!”, Jungkook yells

“I’m eating her out. Go away!”

“Jimin fuck that’s so hot”, she moans

“What! Oh gross, I don’t want to hear that!”, Jungkook yells

“Jimin, Jimin, Jimin!”, she screams, coming on my tongue, “Oh fuck Jimin”

Yes fuck yes

I swallow her sweet cum, then lick inside her to get more

Which causes her to explode again, screaming my name

“Oh fuck, I’m out”, Jungkook yells and I hear him walking away

“Jimin. Jimin!”, she calls breathing hard

“Yeah baby?”, I answer

“I need…I…..need”

“What baby girl? What do you need?”

“You Jimin. I need your hard cock inside. Now”

She pushes me back, making me lay on the floor

She climbs on me and I grab her hips and slide her on my cock

“Fuck” she moans

“Yes Jo. Fuck so tight. I love being inside you”

She starts bouncing on me and pleasure blasts in my body

I yell from how good it feels

“You like it baby?”, she smirks

I just nod rapidly

“You like the way I fuck your cock? The way my tight pussy holds you?”

“Yes fuck yes! Oh my god yes!”, I shout

“Good boy”

She tightens on me and I can’t fucking handle it

She moves harder and faster

“Jo, I’m….”

“Yeah Jimin”, she moans

“Can I cum inside Jo? Please can I? I don’t want to leave”, I beg

“Yes Jimin. Yes”, she whimpers

I thrust up hard into her, coming in her

“Joanne fuck!, Joanne!”, I scream, closing my eyes

“Jimin!”, she cries, starting to shake on me, coming too

God it feels out of this world

To have her clenching and cum on me while I cum at the same time- fucking heaven

She climbs off and sits next to me breathing hard

I’m still laying down, trying to breathe

I still want her

I just need a second

After I get my breathing under control, I get up, pulling her up too

Then I pick her up and throw her on my bed

“More Jimin?”, she smirks

“Yea. I’m horny for you. You’re cunt. Just yours”

“Yea Jimin? Well I’m here for you. Come and get it”, she teases

I don’t need to be told twice

Turning her over and pulling her on all fours, I pound back into her

“God Jimin. I love you fucking cock baby. You’re so fucking hard.”

I ram my cock in her hard and fast, feeling her get so wet

“Harder Jimin. I want it harder!”, she yells

Fuck she’s wild

I’m already going so hard and she wants more

Spreading her legs open more, I slam as hard as I can in her

“Yes, Oh god yes. It feels so good”, she cries

She starts moving slamming herself back on me when I thrust in

I hit so deep inside her, listening to her screaming for me not to stop

“Oh god Jimin!”, she shouts

Her pussy tightens on me as she climaxes

Watching her cum all over my cock, makes me so much more horny

Her pussy grabs my cock so tightly and doesn’t let go

“Oh fuck”, I yell as I keep going

After a few more thrusts, she comes again, moaning loudly

I’m getting closer but I need her to cum again

I need to feel it, feel her squeeze my cock

The best feeling in the world is when she cums on me

Pounding in deep, she yells as her orgasm runs through her, “Jimin, cum baby. I want you to cum in me.”

“Yes baby, yes, I want to”, I groan, moving more

Her tightness is driving me crazy and the next thrust has me coming, waves of pleasure passing over me

I pull out and watch as my cum leaks out of her and all over her legs

Jesus, that’s so fucking hot

She’s laying face down, so I lay next to her

“Damn Jimin. That was fun”

“Yyyy…yeah”

Fun?

It was fucking amazing

After a few minutes, she says, “I should go”

I guess she should

“Uh ok”

She gets up and I watch her get her panties, pants and bra on

“Uh Jimin, you kinda ripped my shirt”

“Oh yeah. Sorry. You can wear one of mine”, I offer

“Yeah ok. I’ll bring it back next time I come over”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine”

She shrugs, “Ok”

She puts the shirt on

It’s baggy on her but she looks good

And for some strange reason I like that she’s wearing my shirt

“I see you later Jimin”, she says

“Wait”, I say before she gets to my door

“Yeah?”, she asks turning around

“Can we keep doing this? Sleeping together I mean”

She raises her eyebrow, “With me? You can have any girl Jimin, why me?”

I honestly don’t know

It’s just something about her body that gets me off

“I…I can’t explain it. It’s just your body Jo. Your pussy is the best I’ve ever been in. You’re the best girl I ever tasted. Ever since we had sex two months ago, any girl I sleep with doesn’t compare to you at all. My body just reacts to yours, just wants yours.”

“Wow. Uh ok”

“C'mon Jo, you know your body reacts to mine too. I feel you, the way you’re pussy keeps me in you, the way you shake when you cum, the way you scream.”

“Yeah. You’re right Jimin. My body does want yours. But I’m not some fuck toy. I’m not some cunt you can just cum in when you want”

I’m not explaining things well

I don’t want her to think that's what I want

I mean I do want that but I want her to know that she can use me to cum too

“Look Jo, I’m not asking you to do that. I want things to be mutual. I wanna be able to have you when I need to cum but I want you to be able to have me when you need to cum too. You can call me when you want it and I’ll go to you. It’s not just me calling you”, I explain

She looks at me silently for a minute

Maybe this was a bad idea

But I know I’m not going to stop wanting her

“Fine, but no feelings. Just sex”, she says

“Yes, that’s what I want too. Just sex.”, I answer

“And you can’t fuck anyone else without a condom. I’m not catching any diseases. If you don’t want to wear a condom with me, then you wear it with anyone else”

“That’s fine. I don’t want to use a condom with you”

“Ok. I don’t like them anyway. And I’m on birth control so don’t worry about me getting pregnant. It won't happen”

“Ok good”

“Ok”, she nods

“Ok”

She turns and leaves my room

I just sit there amazed that I got what I want

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

Six Months Later

Jimin POV

I look at the time in the practice room

Another hour and we’re done

She called me two hours ago, asking me to come to her apartment

I texted her that I’ll be there as soon as practice is over

She hasn’t texted me back

It’s been six months since she and I started sleeping with each other

Jungkook didn’t want to talk about me and her and what he heard

He said he doesn’t want to know a damn thing and to leave him out of anything we do together

Sex with her is fucking mind blowing

It was always rough, hard wild sex for the longest time

But in the last two months sex has changed with her

I find myself not just going with her to just cum anymore I’m going to be with her

I mean we still have our times when we rip each others clothes off or we’re having sex even before all our clothes are off

But lately, more often than not, we’re going slower

I find myself kissing her more, all over, not just her lips but her shoulders, her neck, her hands, everywhere

I play with her hair a lot more, I hold her hand when I’m on top of her, I cuddle with her after

I love having her in my arms I can feel everything so much more when we go slow

I feel every move she makes, every squeeze, every breath

And when she cums on me, Jesus, it’s fucking mind blowing

And I know why

I’m falling in love

Hell, scratch that

I am in love

And I feel so stupid

So terrified

Because there’s no way she’ll want me

She complains all the time about my schedule and me not being immediately available for sex like she is for me

She has to wait hours or days if we’re really busy

And I get it

She drops everything and comes to me when I want her, unless she’s working

I can text her and in 10 to 20 minutes she’s in my room with me or at her apartment waiting for me. And she stays with me for hours

Because she takes it when I have free time

A lot of the time, when she texts me, I can maybe get there within an hour and I can only stay for a little bit

She’s mostly understanding unless she’s really horny, then she angry fucks me

Or she’s not horny anymore when I get there

She also sometimes calls me to tell me to forget about coming over

I know it bothers her but she acts like it doesn’t

So if it’s this complicated and it’s just sex, how am I supposed to have a relationship?

And not just with her, but with any girl

My schedule is crazy

I’d have to leave her to go on tour

There’s no way she’d want to be with an idol

I don’t blame her

But I love her

And I don’t know what to do

--------------------------------

I get to her apartment three hours after she called me

I feel like such a dick

It’s 1 am

I use the key she gave me to let myself in

Her apartment is dark

Is she home?

Did she go out?

I make my way to her room, trying not to trip and kill myself in the dark

Opening her door, I see her in her bed

Asleep

She has the lamp on her nightstand on

Walking to her, I look at her

She’s so fucking beautiful

She looks like a fucking angel while sleeping

She’s on her side, cuddled into her pillow, blanket half on her

I notice she’s wearing one of my shirts

It’s the one I gave her last week

When we get wild, I rip a lot of her shirts, so I give her mine to wear

That’s all she’s wearing, my shirt

I’m not going to wake her up

I feel bad that she fell asleep waiting for me

It’s not fair to her that she has to wait for me all the time

I don’t want to leave though

I want to stay with her

So I get undressed, leaving my shirt and boxers on, then lay next to her

I just want her in my arms

Turning off the light, I cuddle into her back

“I’m sorry Jo”, I whisper, “I love you”

Kissing the back of her neck, I put my arm around her and close my eyes

--------------------------------

I feel her moving

Opening my eyes, I see that it’s still night I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep

She’s is turning in my arms, to face me

“What?”, she says, opening her eyes and looking at me sleepily

“Jimin?”, she asks

“Yeah Jo. I’m sorry”

“Huh? For what?”, she asks groggily

“For taking so long to come. You were asleep when I got here.”

“Oh. It doesn’t matter Jimin. You’re here now”, she answers

It doesn’t matter?

She only cares that I’m here right now

It feels good to hear her say that

“Oh uh..”

“I just want you Jimin”, she says cuddling into me

My mind is racing

And I’m shocked

She wants me?

Does she feel the same way I do?

I hope she does

“Jimin, you’re staying right?”, she asks

Uh, fuck yes. “Yeah Jo. I’ll stay”

“Ok. Can you hold me while we sleep? I just want to be in your arms”, she says tiredly

Oh my god

Yes yes, fuck yes

“Yes Jo. I want you in my arms all night. I won’t let go. I promise”

“Ok”, she replies, half asleep

Running my fingers in her hair, she starts to breathe evenly

“My Jimin”, she whispers, “I love you Jimin”

My breath catches

What?

Is it true?

Or did she say it because she’s almost asleep and doesn’t know what she’s saying?

I hope she means it

“I love you Joanne”, I say to her

She makes a little noise

I don’t know if she heard me

I look down at her and see she’s asleep

Kissing her head, I hold her to me, waiting to fall asleep

--------------------------------

I wake up to kisses all over my face

The best fucking way to wake up

Opening my eyes, her face comes into focus

She smiles then kisses my lips

“Hi Jimin”

“Hi Jo”, I answer

“You’re so cute when you sleep Jimin”

“Me? No Jo, you’re cuter. You’re adorable the way you cuddle in your blankets”

Her cheeks turn red when she blushes

“Aww baby don’t be embarrassed”, I laugh

She scowls but I see her holding back a smile

“Shut up and kiss me”, she demands

I want nothing more

Pulling her down to me, I kiss her soft lips gently

She kisses me back and slides her tongue in my mouth

Fuck I love it

I love kissing her

Her arms go around my neck pulling me on top of her

I run my hand up and down her body, making her hold onto me more tightly

She pulls on my shirt and I lift myself up so she can take it off

“I love your body Jimin. I can look at you all day”

I blush, “I uh….thanks. I’m sorry I uh don’t have abs right now”

“Are you being serious? Why are you apologizing for that?”

I don’t know

I’m known for my abs.

ARMYS always want me to have them and if I don’t I get criticized

But I’ve been slacking on working out

“Jimin do you think I really care about that?”, she exclaims

“Uh…”

“I don’t Jimin. I don’t give a fuck if you have abs or not. It doesn’t matter to me. I love your body with or without abs. You are perfect just the way you are”

I love when she tells me stuff like that

I know I don’t act like it on stage but I’m really insecure about a lot of stuff

My body is one of them

But she’s constantly telling me that I’m beautiful, sexy, hot

The best part is she’s being serious

She’s not just saying it

The way she looks at me, the way she touches me shows me she’s not lying, which blows my mind

Like how she’s looking at me now

“I…uh..I”, I stutter

“Don’t worry about things like that with me ok Jimin. I don’t care about things like that. I just want you”

“I just want you too Jo”

“Then kiss me Jimin and don’t stop”

I crash my lips to hers, kissing her hard

Kissing down her neck, she moans making me hard

I sit up, opening her legs and immediately start licking her

“Jimin”, she whimpers

I love eating her out

Laying my tongue flat on her, I lick up her pussy over and over

She gets so fucking wet, going all over my mouth

God she’s everything

I lay my tongue on her clit and lick the same spot again and again

I know her clit is where she wants it most, where it feels the best and I always give it to her

It’s my favorite place to lick and suck

It’s crazy how that little spot causes massive pleasure

“Oh god Jimin”, she shouts, her hands pulling my hair

It feels good. Taking her clit in my mouth I suck on her

“Jimin! Fuck Jimin!”, she screams, shaking and coming in my mouth

So fucking good

Kissing up her body, I pull her shirt off before I kiss her lips

She pulls down my boxers as far as she can and I kick them off

I just want her on me, on top of me

I love watching her move, watching the pleasure take over her face

“Please baby”, I whisper, hovering over her and kissing her softly

“Please what Jiminie?”, she answers

“Please Jo, ride me. I want you to ride me baby. I want it so bad”, I kiss her again

“Yeah Jimin”, she says, brushing hair from my face, “I will baby”

I roll over pulling her on top of me

She sits up on my lap, hovering over my cock

Slowly she lowers herself, instantly drenching my cock as she slides down

“Jimin, baby, Jimin”, she moans the more she moves down

Pleasure blasts in my body and it’s just from going in her

She leans back, her hands on my legs and she starts moving, sliding up and down my cock

I don't know where to watch, her or my cock going in her pussy

Every time she goes up, I can see her juice all over me and it turns me on so much

She moves faster and harder, making pleasure flow everywhere

“Ahhh god Jimin, you feel so good”, she moans, “so fucking hard”

Fuck I love how much she loves me in her

I reach out and touch her- her hips, her stomach, her sides

Her head is thrown back and her breasts are bouncing so fast and so hard from how hard she’s fucking me

She’s fucking gorgeous

“I love your cock in my pussy baby. You’re cock is the best I ever fucked”

“Fuck baby girl. You’re fucking tight cunt is the best I ever had. My cock loves being in you.”

Reaching out I touch her clit and she yells loudly

I start playing, rubbing and sliding my fingers there while she keeps fucking me

I feel myself getting close but I need her to cum first

“Show me baby”, I moan

"Hhhh..huh?”, she stutters

“Show me how much you love my cock baby. Cum on me”

“Jjjj…Jimin”

“I want it Jo. I want to feel you. You feel so good when you cum”

She slams hard which starts her orgasm

I keep rubbing her clit, urging her on, “Yes baby. God I fucking love it. Squeeze me baby. Don’t let go of my cock baby”

Her whole body shakes while screams rip from her

She keeps moving on me, wanting me to cum

She doesn’t have to say it

We’ve been together enough that I know what she wants

I’m right there, she just needs to move a few more times

Instead she tightens on me so fucking tightly and slides down

“Joanne, Joanne, Joanne!”, I scream, coming so hard, “Baby fuck, oh my God, Jo”

“Yes Jimin”, she moans

I roll over, getting her on her back

I slip back in, feeling her pussy filled with my cum and hers

I fucking love that feeling, both of us on me

I honestly don’t know why

Opening her legs more, I slowly thrust inside her

“Jimin”, she sighs

I lean over her, looking down at her

She smiles at me, reaching up and touching my cheek

The love I feel for this girl is so fucking intense

She moves her hands, running her fingers along my back, fire bursting on my skin wherever she touches

I can’t hold it back I don’t want to anymore

“I love you”, I tell her

Her gaze snaps back to mine

“I love you so much Joanne. Everything about you, I’m so in love with. Every single thing”

I’m scared of what she’s going to say but I’m tired of pretending I don’t love her

A huge smile bursts on her face

“I love you Jimin. More than anything”, she answers

Happiness burst in my body

Just pure euphoria

“Yeah?”, I ask

“Yeah Jimin. I’m in love with everything about you too.”

“So…are you mine now?”, I ask shyly

She nods immediately

“Yes Jimin, all yours”, she answers

Smiling so hard, I lean down kissing her lips

Her arms wrap around my neck, kissing me back

I start moving again, going slowly

“Jimin”, she moans, “You feel so good baby”

I lean my forehead against her, whimpering

“Don’t stop Jimin”, she asks

“I won’t”, I whisper

The room fills with just the sound of our soft moans

“Jimin”, she whimpers

She pulls me down for a kiss

I’m kissing her when she cums

Her hand grips my hair tightly, moaning in my mouth

Just the feeling of her coming causes pure pleasure to run through me, making me cum as well

Pulling away from her lips, I moan in her neck, her arms going around me

“I love you”, she whispers

“I love you” I answer her back

I just lay there, on top of her, loving the feeling of being in her arms

This is everything I ever wanted since I was younger

Just a girl who loves me as much as I love her

And I’m so happy I found her

She’s my everything

#park jimin fanfic #bts jimin fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts jimin smut #park jimin smut #jimin smut #bts fanfic #bts smut

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ririkookiemonster · 3 months ago

Text

ririkookiemonster masterlist

so, yeah, i tend to write more about the maknae line, but it's not because I'm a solo stan or anything like that. it’s just that their personalities click with me more when i’m writing. i vibe with the older members too, but the younger ones just have this energy that I really connect with. it’s not about favoring them over anyone else—it's just what naturally comes out when i’m writing. i’m here for the whole group, no question about that. please be mindful before coming after my life.

JUNGKOOK

🖇️Syllabus of secrets🖇️

Professor!jungkook x Student!reader

Summary: you have been crushing hard on your hot english professor, jeon jungkook for months. when nothing seems to work when you do everything to get his attention, totally fed up and desperate, you decide to go all out: submitting a smutty story for your english project, pouring all your fantasies about him into it.

🖇️No textbooks here🖇️

Pairing: male model jungkook x female model oc

Summary: being a model in the art class was common for you, but this time, you gave a chance to be the female model in biology class. it was for educational purposes anyway, how far could it go?

🖇️Be with me🖇️

Pairing: yandere ex bf jungkook x ex gf y/n

Summary: Breaking up with Jungkook was supposed to be your freedom from his obsession, but he’s never been one to let go easily. His presence lingers, stalking you even in places you thought were safe. When you finally agree to meet him after the break up, what should have been a simple talk turns into a moment where you 'keep your promise'.

JIMIN

🖇️Breaking point🖇️

Pairing: Roommate!Jimin x Roommate!reader

Summary: After months of tension, your roommate Jimin catches you grinding on his hoodie in a moment of pure desperation.

TAEHYUNG

coming soon!

MORE OF MY WORK COMING SOON!!!

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axigailxo · 10 months ago

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Pretty Like You | PJM (2)

part two: parties and pilates

series summary. where jimin is jealous of the beauty that is you, writes about it, and falls apart when you accidentally read it.

pairing. feminine!jimin x reader

rating. M | 18+ |

genre. enemies to lovers, feminine!jimin, self hatred au, slight identity crisis, self love journey, smut, sub! jimin, angst, fluff, heartfelt

w.c. 4.8k

warnings. heavy descriptions of self hate and self abuse later into the story, please be advised. mention of “unaliving” in this chapter.

ch summary. where oc convinces jimin to go to a frat party in an attempt to break him out of his shell

**this is part 2 of my series pretty like you, not a stand-alone

series masterlist | <-previous | next ->

“And then despite it all, she asked if I wanted to talk, can you believe it?”

It’s been a couple of days since the incident at the art room, and Jimin can’t stop ranting about it like it’s new news. He still hasn’t texted you, and it’s not like he could since he doesn’t even have your number. He could get it from you in class, but thats a little hard when he’s on a streak of skipping.

After you suggested to help him embark on a self love journey, Jimin has been so damn confused. He doesn’t know whether to jump at the opportunity, rot away in embarrassment that you read his journal, or be slightly offended that you’d suggest help when he thinks he’s just fine. Kind of.

All options are tempting, nonetheless.

Daisy, Jimin’s cat that is currently victim to listening about what happened for the hundredth time, lifts up off her soft body and saunters out of his room. What? She’s fed up.

Jimin, who is suffering from her rude and sudden exit, huffs as he debates whether he should follow up about that whole thing with you. Because despite all his options, he’s leaning more towards just avoiding you at all costs and pretending that situation never even happened.

Except he’ll remember. It’ll haunt him and his thoughts every night until he finally just addresses it.

And so that’s why he should go to class today. Maybe. Jimin squints his eyes as he contemplates and considers, ultimately deciding that coffee is the first step that should be taken. Especially since it’s way too early to have a crisis, that can wait for later. Per usual.

Making his way to his Keurig, he pops a peppermint mocha flavored pod into the top compartment followed by a little water in another compartment until he’s clicking a button to brew it.

“So now you like me,” Jimin scoffs as Daisy rubs against his ankle, excited for Jimin to give her breakfast.

Commanding to the manipulation of the feline, Jimin grabs a can of cat food out of a cupboard, internally scolding himself for being nice and buying her the expensive kind again.

Although, Jimin can’t blame Daisy for being fed up with all his predicaments. He would be too. However spilling to Daisy is much more acceptable than telling it all to his human best friend, Taehyung.

Jimin has already thought about the fact that if he spends time with you, whether it be for a self love journey or not, that’d be breaking some sort of bro code with Tae.

You’re Taehyung’s crush, and Jimin respects that. Plus it’s not like Taehyung has to worry, you’re out of Jimin’s league anyway.

However that hard on be got the other night still baffles him. He’s narrowed it down to being that you’re just attractive and he’s just a gross horny man. But not even that sounds right.

Jimin has thought about inviting Taehyung to every outing you may have together, but he can’t. How in hell would he explain to his best friend that the whole reason he’s seeing you is so that he can learn to accept himself and flaunt that feminine side of him? Let alone explain to him that you read his journal full of how much he envies and adores you at the same time. He can’t. More specifically, he won’t. Taehyung doesn’t need to meet that side of him, Jimin thinks. It’s for the better.

Jimin ponders for a second, and he hates himself for pouring his coffee into a travel cup and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He figures since he’s already keeping a secret from Tae, one more shouldn’t hurt. Plus he can’t avoid you forever. There’s really only one thing to do now.

“Eat up Daisy, I’ll be back after class.”

“Jimin? Hey!”

Standing in line at the campus’s cafe, Jimin washes over in a cold sweat as the loud call of his name attracts the attention of almost everyone near. He came here to get an additional caffeine boost before class and more importantly stall from talking to you, but it’s just his luck that you’d be here too.

“Hi,” he mutters awkwardly, eyes on the ground the second you get closer.

He’s never seen you so up-close before. He wonders if your skin has always looked so smooth.

He wishes his skin were as smooth.

“I was gonna call to ask about your no shows in class but I completely forgot to give you my number the last time we talked.”

Jimin finds this incredibly new and odd. Just a few days ago he hated you without knowing you and now you’re talking to him like a friend. It’s definitely going to take some getting used to.

“Here,” you say as you hand him your phone, a new contact page open and ready for him to fill out. “That way we can talk out of school, plus I found multiple super-helpful self esteem websites that you might li—“

“Y/N,” Jimin halts your enthusiasm. Again, way too early in the morning for this. “Can we not talk about it in such a public place?”

His tone is hushed and embarrassed, trying not to let the several eyes on them to hear that he’s struggling with self esteem. God this is so much more depressing than Jimin initially thought it’d be.

“Of course, yeah no my bad.” You rush your words, retracting your hand down before Jimin grabs the phone from you, typing his number.

“I dont expect you to waste time on me. Just text when you have absolutely nothing else to do. This isn’t important enough to occupy your schedule.”

Immediately, you frown at his words. Sure this is important. And contrary to his request, you already cleared something off of your schedule for him.

“First off, this is important. I won’t have you taking down on yourself anymore.”

Jimin so badly wants to ask why, but he won’t because that’s rude and you don’t deserve anymore rudeness from him. Not after what you read in the art room.

“Secondly, I already cancelled pilates for you. I have something else fun planned for us.”

Jimin can’t help his sudden snicker.

“What?” You ask, slightly offended.

“Nothing, it’s just funny you take pilates. Of course you do.”

You wanted to carry on with being offended, but you felt a pang of accomplishment upon getting him to laugh. Progress, you think.

“Yeah yeah,” you dismiss as you tuck your phone into your back pocket, trailing back out of the cafe. “Laugh all you want but just know that this ass didn’t grow itself!”

You: u, me, frat party tonight at 9.

Sat on the hard seats of the lecture hall, Jimin’s eyes go wide as he reads your reply to his text.

The second you sauntered out of the cafe, you were quick to text Jimin in hopes to break the tension between you two— which technically isn’t tension at all given Jimin is the only one who finds your new friendship odd. Well him and the rest of the students who saw you two talking together.

Jimin had asked what you had planned, and when you replied with frat party, he felt physically ill.

Jimin: absolutely not. sorry.

You: hear me out, it’s not even a big party

You: it’s very discreet and there’s only gonna be a couple people

Jimin locks eyes with you from across the room and mouths “no” with an adamant shake of his head. You roll your eyes before your thumbs get back to texting him.

You: we can pregame before we go so u can loosen up

You: if you’re with me, there’s nothing to worry about

Jimin wants to be offended. He most definitely does not need you at his rescue. The intent however was a little sweet. God Jimin is reminded exactly why he despised you— you’re perfect.

Jimin: i’ll think about it. that’s not a yes.

He pretends he doesn’t notice the little happy dance you do in your seat, nor the squeal of excitement you let out even though he didn’t give a definite answer.

Jimin starts to smile, but when he looks to his left he sees someone else who’s smiling at you and it vanishes. Taehyung. Completely gawking at you, Jimin fights that weird feeling that suddenly engulfs him. Maybe it’s the fact he’s hiding his new friendship with you from Tae.

Either that or somewhere in his subconscious, he doesn’t like how Tae is smiling at you.

“God dude, isn’t she so cute.” Tae whispers, completely oblivious to why you’re dancing in you’re seat.

Jimin trails his gaze to his lap as a bitter mood takes hold of him.

“Yeah… definitely.”

Jimin is in a rut.

Even though he’s still not certain about going to that party, finding a potential outfit never hurt anyone. Moments after he got home he was already sucked into his closet by the magnetic pull of all the great clothes he has— even though he knows himself well enough to understand he will end up changing into his “boy clothes” no matter what he ends up choosing.

He slips on a black, oversized distressed sweater. The seams are ripped in just the right places, leaving a fraction of his chest, his belly, and a dash of his waist to be visible beneath the shredded fabric. The back showcases a fair amount of skin as well.

This one, Jimin thinks to himself, isn’t so feminine. It’s doable. Maybe.

He wants to pair it with a skirt but that would only be a waste of time because if he can’t even leave his apartment in a skirt to check the mailbox, he sure as hell will not be wearing it to a frat party of all places.

He grabs a pair of black chinos that he thrifted not so long ago, letting it rest low on his waist. He pulls the look together with black combat boots and a dainty necklace that he tucks beneath the sweater. It makes him feel pretty despite the fact he’s the only one aware it’s on him.

He steps back to absorb the outfit in the mirror, and he feels good. It’s a combination of both masculine and feminine and it’s definitely testing the waters but Jimin knows his night won’t be enjoyable in the least if he wears a baggy hoodie or tee. He likes what he has on, even if the frat boys will give him shit for it. Which they definitely will.

He hears Daisy meow across the room, and upon directed his gaze to her his eyes settle on the makeup bag tucked into the far back corner of his desk.

He’s tempted, he is. But he can’t. He’s not ready yet.

Just as he begins to walk towards his desk, only enticing himself further, a knock on his door is heard and he takes that as a sign from god herself that he should skip the makeup.

With a sigh, he heads to the door.

“Knock… Knock… Knock!”

“Just a minute! For fuck’s sake.”

Irritated at the swat team-like announcement, Jimin swings the door open to reveal none other than Jessica Rabbit?

“You didn’t tell me it was a costume party!” Jimin complains as he steps aside, gesturing you to come in.

Both hands holding a bottle of E&J, you let yourself in and place the bottle on his countertop.

“Oh yeah, it’s a costume party.”

“It’s not even halloween,” Jimin states the obvious as he instinctively heads for two glasses out of his cupboard.

“It’s to make up for last year. There was a big game the day of halloween so none of the guys were in a party mentality.”

Party Mentality?

Jimin can’t believe he’s hearing about frat news from you, who is in his apartment dressed like Jessica Rabbit and is downing a shot straight from the bottle. What has his life come to.

You notice him staring so you apologize as you offer him the bottle to pour.

“Figured we’d pregame like I said. Also we gotta figure out a costume for you. Ooh what about a slutty artist or something.”

Jimin swears you make him lose brain cells. Sliding a now-filled glass toward you, he takes a large gulp of his own.

“Slutty artist?” He thinks out loud. “I’m fine with what I have on.”

Jimin counts down the seconds until you praise his bold sweater choice, but he can feel the alcohol rise back up when you say the opposite.

“In all honestly I thought that was a sleep shirt. We’re putting you in something else.”

You navigate yourself straight to what you assume is him bedroom, and Jimin nearly falls flat on his face chasing after you.

This may be a bit embarrassing for Jimin to admit to himself, but he’s never had a girl in his room before. It’s intimate, he thinks. Having someone inside a room that has witnessed every one of his breakdowns, outfit changes, alone time moments, etcetera. Jimin cringes as memories from the other night come back to him.

“Cute room,” you tell him as you look around, admiring the fairy lights and album covers displayed. Jimin was always big on music. Maybe posters were too far given his age, but he didn’t care. He never thought someone else would ever see them.

Although, Tae has been to Jimin’s place before. He knows about the posters and fairy lights. Though he never once questioned it or even talked about it. Only when he called that one poster of Ariana Grande hot. That’s what Jimin likes about Tae, he never questions him. But it’s not like Jimin gives him much to wonder about. He’s completely masked to the eyes of his best friend.

“This,” you start, dramatic tone and all, “this is gorg.” You hold out his favorite black skirt, and it’s lightening quick how fast he snatches it from you.

“No.” He tells you, cheeks getting hot. He’s embarrassed to say the least. He knows you know about his self esteem issues, but you have yet to discover his fondness for feminine clothing. But you have now.

“What? You’re embarrassed I found a skirt? If it’s socially acceptable for women to wear sweats, then it should be acceptable for men to wear skirts.”

Someone who gets it, Jimin thinks. This is the first time he’s ever felt understood when it comes to this, and he doesn’t quite know what to say.

“But skirt or no skirt, I think it’s important that you feel sexy tonight.”

“And why is that?” Jimin plays along. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed as you continue to look through his wardrobe.

“Because halloween parties exist solely for people to feel sexy all night.”

“It’s not halloween,” Jimin argues again, earning a shirt thrown at his face. Giggling, he holds it out in front of him.

You stand in front of his closet with a look of excitement on your face. His reaction disappoints you, however.

“Y/N, no. I can’t wear this out.”

“Just try it on.”

He knew this was part of your plan to get him to gain a little confidence and even convince him to leave the house in something he feels good in, but Jimin is adamant. He cannot wear this.

It’s a fitted baseball tee, extremely cropped and a shade of pale pink. Jimin cannot leave the house like this, despite how good it makes him feel deep down.

Reluctant and a tad shy, Jimin removes his sweatshirt from his body as he replaces it with what you threw at him. In the short moment he was bare, you might’ve stole a glance at his figure. His body is perfect, you think. Slim waist with faint yet toned abs and a noticeable amount of muscle on his arms. You take another sip of the drink that has yet to leave your hand.

“I look stupid.”

“You look sexy.”

The compliment was unexpected and was more than enough to have Jimin’s eyes widen. He breaks eye contact because how could he not, and he self consciously wraps an arm around his stomach.

More so his lap.

“I don’t know,” he says faintly, mumbling over his speech. “I think it’s a bit much.”

“Change to grey sweats. You can tell people you’re a 60’s athlete, they dressed like this back in the day you know.”

Yeah right, tell a bunch of actual scary frat boy athletes that’s he’s mocking their style from the 60’s.

His brows furrow when you step closer to him, reclining down and reaching for the skirt he had snatched from you. You grab one of his wrists, placing the bunched up material into his hand. His cheeks are on fire, his heartbeat picking up.

“Try it on,” you whisper. “For me.”

And fuck. Jimin is fully erect. He physically cannot bring himself to stand let alone change in front of you. He pushes your hand away, never wanting to disappear so badly.

“Another time. You already got me to wear this tee, baby steps.”

Disappointed, you think he’s right. You can’t beg him to gain confidence to wear an entire outfit like this on the first day of his journey. It takes time, and luck for Jimin you’re very patient.

“Another time,” you repeat softly.

Jimin has been to a function with very little people before. He knows what a small little get together looks like. This party— it isn’t that.

“You said a couple people!” He shouts over the blairing music as you pull him through the front hall and to the packed kitchen.

He has no clue who’s house this is and he hasn’t seen a single normal person. Everyone is either drunk, high, or the worst: a frat. He shivers in discomfort before you bring a shot glass to his lips.

“Guess word spread and more people came, no biggie.”

He downs the shot of what turns out to be tequila, wincing as he coughs out a reply.

“Huge biggie.” He looks around the crowded house after a bystander drunkenly bumps into him and slurs an incoherent apology.

This was a mistake.

“Y/N, what is the point of me being here? This isn’t making me feel good about myself in the least, this isn’t my environment.”

You take another shot before quickly grabbing a lime and placing it between Jimin’s plump lips, and before he can register what you’re doing, your lips are already on his as you suck from the lime. Nipping the fruit with your teeth you pull it out and drop it into the sink, grin wide as Jimin turns fire hydrant red.

That shouldn’t count as a kiss, but you just sort-of-kissed Jimin. His mouth is dry, heartbeat in his stomach, and he is hyper alert on the way his knees are subtly shaking.

“Ease up Jimin, it’s gonna be a long night.”

He didn’t know it then but that’s the last time he’d be seeing you until the end of the party. He sauntered off to a random couch that was unoccupied for the most part, only some random (and gross) couple having a full blown make out session on the opposite side.

He made sure to keep his cup filled the whole night as that’s the only thing keeping him from walking straight out the door and back into the comfort of anything that’s not this party.

He’s spotted Tae a few times, who is dressed as Jack from the titanic, but Tae hasn’t noticed him yet which is probably because his rather different fashion approach and the fact he’s at a frat party. If anything that should be a reason Tae spots him since he’s the odd one out, Jimin thinks. Then again it is a costume party and no one look normal per-say. Nor is Tae the sharpest tool in the shed.

He also thanks the universe for not letting Tae notice you and Jimin arrive together.

He’s been glancing at you for a while now, the way you sway your hips to the rap song playing on the surround sound speakers. The way your skin is glowing even under the dim, groggy lights of the house. He watches the way smoke exits your mouth as Tae places a blunt between your perfect lips. He looks away when Tae also places a hand on your waist, dancing with you so intimately that it pains Jimin to see.

He knows he’ll be hearing all about this from Tae. You’re his favorite person, he’s probably over the moon about dancing with you right now.

“Jimin?” Speaking of the devil.

Jimin waves awkwardly as Tae whispers something to you and proceeds to walk towards his direction. You go off to dance with a frat guy who’s been waiting all night to have your attention. Jimin finds him pathetic.

“What are you doing here? You never come to these kinds of things.”

The music is loud but that’s nothing compared to how deep and confident Tae’s voice is. Despite Jimin’s desire to be more feminine, there are some masculine traits he wishes to have. A deeper voice is one of them. Not Tae’s level of deep, but deeper than what his currently is.

“A friend forced me to,” he admits, not naming names because how could he.

“Oh you have friends?” The younger man teases, earning a grumpy eye roll from Jimin. He takes another swig out of his cup.

Jimin remembers what he’s wearing and wonders why his best friend hasn’t said anything about it yet. He almost wants to point it out so it doesn’t awkwardly go unsaid and leaves Tae to catch on to his secret need for femininity.

“Like my costume?” Jimin asks, masking the fact that this is actually just a random shirt he’s had in his wardrobe and not a costume.

Tae gives him a quick once over, not lingering his eyes on the top for long.

“Oh what are you supposed to be?”

He definitely thought that wasn’t a costume and instead a normal outfit. Jimin cringes, hating you right now more than ever for making him show up in this. But he also loves you for providing him with the save he’s about to use on Tae.

“I’m a 60’s athlete. They used to dress like this you know.”

Taehyung hums, genuinely convinced.

“Wah that’s clever. I thought that was yours for a sec.”

Jimin hates himself for what he’s about to say.

“Why on earth would I own a pink crop top, that’s ridiculous.”

They laugh it off, and Jimin feels a gut wrenching pang in his stomach. That sentence wasn’t made for him, and it made him a liar and a hypocrite to his own desire.

He needs to go now before he says even more self damaging nonsense.

“Hey Tae, do you think you can get me a blunt?” Jimin asks in hopes to excuse his friend and, well, get high.

“Is this coming from the same person that said smoking isn’t good for you?”

Jimin remembers when he said that but he’s far too drained to be defensive or right. He shrugs as he admits to his hypocrisy.

“Yeah well so are frat parties but here I am. Cough one up, I know you have some.”

Tae stands up to reach in his front pocket, pulling out a steep tin that reveals 3 joints. He hands one to Jimin, telling him a brief “I’ll be back” before vanishing to find you again.

Something told Jimin to stay at the party despite how badly he wanted to go. He thought about how it may make you sad if he were to just leave, then he ridded that idea because why on earth would that make you sad. Nevertheless, he glanced outside to see if the crowd was acceptable to join. It wasn’t.

Deciding to not smoke with a bunch of frat guys, he goes the alternative route and heads for the hallway to secure an empty room. When he succeeds, he closes the door behind him and props the window open as he lights the tip of his joint.

He doesn’t smoke often, barely at all, but he needed this. As the smoke entered into his mouth he inhaled it eagerly, head rolling back as he slowly blows it all back out. This feels good, he thinks. The atmosphere on the other hand still could be better.

Jimin laughs to himself. Smoking weed at a frat party you invited him to. The world is funny that way, he nods to himself. Almost as funny as how you’re all he can think about right now.

He doesn’t know what it is. It’s not hate. For sure not love. He’s just thinking about you. Perhaps he misses your company? Or the way your skirts never reveal too much but just enough to drive him crazy.

The way your pouty lips move when you talk.

Your soft skin.

Your silky voice.

The way you look in that Jessica Rabbit costume you wore tonight.

Jimin is painfully erect, and without even noticing his hand has been palming himself desperately this entire time, blunt being delicately held in the other hand, occasionally being brought up for more puffs to fuel what he’s doing right now.

“Fuck Y/N, yes.”

He unties his sweats. One more rough drag and he kills the blunt on the rim of the windowsill, both hands focusing on himself now. One hand tugging his waistband down, the other guiding himself out. And all he can think about is how sexy you are.

He gets carried away, going so fast on himself that he doesn’t hear or see the door open. He’s high beyond belief, god only knows what Taehyung had laced in that blunt, and so when he sees you he swears his imagination is just very vivid.

Until his conscience registers and he almost squeals as he lunges back in shock of the situation.

Quickly you run up to him just in time to pull his entire body back and preventing him from falling out the window. You’re breathing heavy, half because of what you saw moments before and partially because you just saved his life.

“Fuck Jimin, be careful.”

And how fucking peculiar it is that you’re not addressing his cock that is out in the open between the two of you.

Jimin can’t speak. He almost literally died from being caught jerking himself to you while being high out his mind.

What a fucking legacy he’d have left.

After catching his breath he frantically goes to put himself away but his hand is stopped by yours.

“You know people sneak into rooms at parties to have sex with each other, not to do themselves.”

His cheeks flush red.

“Only freaks do that.”

Jimin has wanted to before, but he officially wants to unalive himself. How pathetic he is, he thinks.

“I’m sorry, I… I’m really high right now and I thought I locked the—“

He cuts himself off when you guide his hand back onto himself.

“You’re not gonna ask me why I came in here?”

Jimin takes a deep breath.

“Why?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, very slowly putting his own hand into motion against himself.

“Because I’m a freak too.”

Your words came out in a faint whisper but Jimin’s senses are heightened and he hears it like a megaphone in his ears. Your tits are practically spilling out your tiny red tube dress as you lean to help him stroke himself. A shiver cascades down his whole body, an unintentional yet hesitant whimper rumbling off his throat.

You giggle, then abruptly you stand. You lean down and peck him on his frozen, plump lips.

“Have a good night Jimin, I’ll be in contact for our next power move.” You walk towards the door. “Masturbating is a good way to show yourself love, kudos to you kid.”

Jimin’s hand is glued to his stiff cock, frozenly just keeping it there as he stares at you with his mouth agape.

“I’ll lock this on my way out, by all means finish and do not fall out any windows.”

And just like that you open the door only a couple inches and squeeze out to give him privacy. He’s left in the same spot, still in absolute shock.

You’re perfect.

You’re beautiful, and apparently so fucking sexy in sexual situations. It takes only one more stroke and one more thought of you for Jimin to reach the finish line, cum dropping down his hand and shaft as he fucks into his fist.

He breathes jaggedly until he’s drained of all energy and collapses on the bed.

To his shock, he’s not freaking out. He’s actually smiling. Then again that could easily be the weed talking. What did taehyung put in that anyway?

Jimin’s smile dissipates as an ugly thought sends a cold chill throughout him.

You’re his best friend’s crush. You’re Taehyung's. And he just betrayed him. Jimin hates how the universe works sometimes. When one thing goes well, the whole world goes to shit.

The world is funny that way.

ply pt 2???? im sorry for how long it took luvies, last year was so intense. i hope you all are still here to read😿 run this uppppp cuties!! til next time luvs🤭❤️

🏷️: @exactlygreatcoffee @sweetieguk @ctrlsht @blessrious @someusername133 @dreamer-pjm @zadkielr @dearsullix @lailaaxd @osakis-gf @jnghs @seltansworld @bxnqtxnie @moon-kid39 @mawwnsterr @zadkielr @iamjimintrash @chansbaybygirl @canarystwin @dearsullix @polyparkj @mannymalfoy @jmincore @kyglover @coralmusicblaze @midnightangel13 @jm-jkfics @lovelyflower02 @xcherrywaltz

soooo many of u guys who asked to be in the taglist changed your usernames so unfortunately i couldn't tag u☹️hopefully this found u!🫶🏻

(for anyone else who'd like to be in the taglist pls reply to this post <3)

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kingofbodyrolls · 4 months ago

Text

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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jjksblackgf · 1 year ago

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champagne & suds | pjm (m)

pairing — park jimin x reader summary — a romantic trip is only complete with a nice bottle of champagne and the comfort of a bathtub. genre — smut, pwp, established relationship rate — 18+ word count — 1.2k warnings — explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), facial.

“How are you feeling?”

“The pressure is amazing,” you answered the masseuse, though your voice was a bit muffled by the padded table underneath you. You didn’t care if they didn’t hear you. It was hard to care about anything when you were this relaxed.

The sound of the waves crashing into the shoreline of the beach made you sink deeper into relaxation. The smell of the ocean complemented the mint scented oil the masseuse used to work on your back, the knots left by the lengthy airplane travel were long gone.

Underneath the shading of your private balcony, you felt like Jimin crafted nirvana on earth just for you. You had to thank him somehow.

One hour passed way too quickly, and after the massage was done, you sat quietly and enjoyed the view for a few minutes. The palm trees, the sandy beach that felt like velvet, the almost crystal-clear blue water, the pink hues as they announced the sunset… Fiji was spectacular.

“Homesick already?” Jimin called from the doorframe. You turned to look at his angelic face. His smile was too lovely for a man that had a body like his. He tied his robe loosely, so it was easy for you to see his defined muscles. Your eyes traveled his torso, salivating at the sight of his navel. “Eyes up here,” he joked, taking you out of your fantasies.

You made no comments, just hurried to his side and hugged his neck.

“Thank you,” you said earnestly. “You’re the most amazing boyfriend,” you said, placing a kiss on his lips.

“Wow, and the day isn’t even done yet,” he said with an eager grin. “Close your eyes,” he requested.

“For what?”

“For the rest of your relaxing day,” he said exasperated. “Get with the schedule, babe!”

“Fine, fine!” You finally agreed and closed your eyes.

“Don’t peek,” he commanded, pulling you around the room. You were extra curious now. What was he planning? The room was already romantic as it was, with a canopy bed and a loveseat close to a fireplace. How was he supposed to take that to the next level? “Just a few more steps. Now turn to your left a little… Okay, there. Stop.” He instructed. Wherever you were, there was the scent of vanilla, and maybe… roses? You weren’t sure.

Jimin finally let you open your eyes, and the sight made you want to cry. The bathtub was surrounded by candles — scented, you guessed — and filled with rose petals. The light was turned off, but the room was lit by the sunset, being showcased by the floor to ceiling window.

“I thought you might want to take a bath before our dinner reservations,” he said, hugging you from behind, letting you soak in the view of his romantic gesture.

“You’re not proposing to me, are you?” you whispered, a little panicked, a little excited. Maybe he was… The honeymoon would have to be here, that’s one thing you knew.

But Jimin laughed. “Not today,” he answered, turning your body so you’d face him. “How are you liking your trip so far?” he asked, already trailing kissed down your neck.

“It’s no wedding proposal,” you joked, “but it’s not too shabby either.”

“Good,” he said, now biting your earlobe. The butterflies in your stomach were nothing compared to the beat of your heart. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his lips against your jaw and neck. “I think we had too much fabric in between us,” he mused in between kisses.

“I think so too,” you managed to whisper. Your hands were surprisingly graceful, untying his robe as he untied yours. Robes down and you were free to caress his torso, tracing his abdomen with the tip of your fingers.

His hand went to your neck, and the kiss he initiated was tender. The flutter was no longer only on your stomach, and you wanted to feel his hands all over your body.

“Let me take care of you,” you were heartbroken to stop his caresses, but there was a more pressing matter that needed your attention.

Jimin was confused, but curious, so he went along with your demands with your directions. Inside the bathtub, you cleared a seat for him at the edge, where the rose petals could almost touch his knees.

“Can you tell me what’s happening?” he asked, puzzled. But when you fell to your knees before him, and trailed kisses on his inner thighs, his chuckle was seductive. He still took care of you, caressing your back with warm water as best he could.

He wouldn’t have time to focus on that for longer. Your lips enveloped his length, and a throaty hiss came out of his lips. You massaged him with your tongue, enjoying the feel of his dick growing inside of you.

His palm pressed against the back of your neck, guiding your movements to the speed of his liking. And you were all for pleasing him. You pressed your tongue to his tip, tasting his precum, and he grunted.

That sound, almost animalistic, sent shivers down your spine. With the help of one hand, you went back to massaging his length, enjoying the sounds he made when you pressed his base with your fingers.

You retrieved your lips very slowly, and with a loud pop, your mouth was out entirely. Using only the tip of your tongue, you circled the tip of his cock again while massaging his length with one hand.

“Oh, my God.” he groaned, running his hands through his face. You licked him from base to tip and when he was enveloped in your mouth again, he tried his best to thrust his hips. “Shit,” he hissed.

He was close, and it didn’t seem like he wanted to delay the sensation. He continued to grunt and moan your name, in a big jumbled mess. You paid attention to the speed and pressure he liked, now moaning too. Before you knew, he yanked himself out of your mouth and finished himself off, climaxing on your face.

Thank heavens you had easy access to water.

“I love you so much,” he panted. His cheeks were flushed and some hair strands were stuck to his sweaty forehead.

“I love you too,” you said, planting a kiss on his inner thigh.

He helped you get up from your knees and seated you down in the bath, before taking his place behind you. He hugged you tightly, and you could feel his heartbeat through your back. He was trailing kisses along your shoulder when you spotted a bucket of ice with an open champagne bottle and two empty glasses, alongside some chocolates.

“Is there an engagement ring hidden in one of these?” you joked, garnering his attention.

“Now I feel like there should be one, but it’s just the regular kind. You know, the ones without expensive jewelry inside,” he quipped.

“Oh, so my ring is expensive,” you commented and he laughed out loud. “Well, at least the champagne is expensive.”

“We were truly made for each other.”

#bts x reader #jimin x reader #bts smut #jimin smut #park jimin smut #bangtanbathhouse #btsafterdarknet

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keehomania · 4 months ago

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tempted (유혹) — park jimin (박지민)

✧.* 18+

love, in its purest form, was an ethereal dance between two souls that transcended the physical realm. it was the whispered secret shared between the stars and the moon, the silent promise that echoed in the heartbeats of those destined to find one another. soulmates were not just lovers but mirrors reflecting the deepest parts of ourselves—our hopes, fears, dreams, and shadows. they were the gentle caress in the quiet moments, the unwavering support in times of turmoil, and the spark that ignited the fire within us to be more, to feel more, to live more.

the bond between soulmates was an intricate tapestry woven with threads of fate, time, and serendipity. each thread represented a moment, a memory, a shared breath that brought them closer together, intertwining their lives in ways that defied logic and reason. it was a connection felt in the marrow of one's bones, a magnetic pull that drew two individuals together despite the miles, the years, the obstacles that lay between them.

but as we looked closer, we began to see the delicate, almost fragile nature of this connection. love, we realized, was a mere feeling—a powerful, all-consuming emotion, yet still a feeling. it was something that existed in the softest corners of our hearts, in the whispered three words, and the stolen glances, and yet it was fleeting, ephemeral. it was an entity that could lift us to the heavens one moment and leave us stranded in the abyss the next. love was something existent yet nonexistent, a paradox that defined the human experience.

in the end, love was a feeling—nothing more, nothing less. it was a sensation that, while real and profound, was also transient, capable of fading away like the morning mist. love was, and always would be, a testament to the beauty and fragility of human connection.

but what good did that do, when you didn't believe in it? you watched your parents' marriage crumble, each piece of their once-shared life falling apart like a house of cards in a storm. the warmth that had once filled your home turned cold, replaced by silence and resentment. you spent most of your life blaming your mother, seeing her as the catalyst for the disintegration of the love you once knew. her actions, her decisions, her words—all seemed to be the threads unraveling the fabric of your family.

yet, as time went on, you began to see the truth more clearly. in the end, it took two to tango. your father was not without fault; his silence, his absence, his own choices played just as significant a role. the love that once seemed unbreakable had been weakened by both their hands, by misunderstandings and unmet needs, by the slow erosion of patience and kindness. it was a dance they both had learned to stumble through, each step further away from harmony.

the corridors of your new school stretched before you like a labyrinth of polished floors and pristine walls, echoing with the muted whispers of privilege. this high-end, private institution was a realm of immaculate uniforms and designer handbags, a place where status was measured not just by wealth but by the veneer of propriety. you had the fortune to attend this school because of your mother's money, a privilege that came with its own set of burdens. with more money came higher prices, not just in currency but in reputation and expectation.

you had transferred there, seeking refuge from the torment that had plagued your previous school. the memories of harassment lingered like shadows in your mind. the taunts of those girls echoed in your ears, their voices dripping with cruelty. “look at her, the daughter of a hostess. like mother, like daughter, huh?” their words were knives, each one aimed to cut deeper than the last. you remembered the sting of cold water as your head was dunked in the sink, the bitter taste of humiliation as you struggled to breathe. your locker had been defaced with vile words—“slut,” “whore,” “like mother like daughter”—each insult scrawled in angry letters. and the final blow, the moment that broke your resolve, was when your lunch was dumped on you in the cafeteria, laughter ringing in your ears as you stood there, drenched in shame.

the move had been meant to be a fresh start, a chance to escape the ghosts of your past. but even here, the whispers never ceased. as you walked down the halls, you could hear them, soft and insidious, just out of reach. your friend, walked beside you, her presence a comforting anchor in the sea of judgment. “ignore them,” she would say, her voice steady. “most of their families are involved in worse things.” you nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “i’ll be fine,” you told her, even as the whispers brushed against your skin like a cold breeze.

jisoo’s eyes flickered to the designer handbag slung over your shoulder. “nice bag,” she complimented, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “thanks,” you replied, your smile small but sincere.

she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “you know, money isn’t forever. you should consider getting engaged soon.” you shook your head, the idea almost laughable. “no way. i don’t believe in love. it doesn’t exist.”

jisoo raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in her eye. “duh. why do you think people get married for money?” the absurdity of it all brought laughter to your lips, a rare sound in the cold halls of this school. the two of you laughed together, a moment of genuine connection amidst the façade. you walked down the halls side by side, her presence a reminder that even in the midst of whispers and judgment, there were still moments of light to hold onto.

jimin stood basking in the midday sun, the golden rays highlighting the flawless contours of his face. he was surrounded by his friends, an entourage of privileged and spoiled teenagers who reveled in their own opulence. among them was his girlfriend and the undisputed queen of their circle. sua thrived on attention, money, and the luxuries that her wealth afforded her. her laugh was a sharp, crystalline sound, slicing through the air as she regaled her audience with yet another tale of her extravagant exploits.

it was then that you walked by, your presence commanding a quiet elegance that contrasted starkly with the raucous group. the sunlight caressed your features, illuminating your every step with a radiance that caught jimin's eye. he watched you, his gaze unyielding, captivated by the sight of you moving through the world with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly. “who’s that?” one of his friends asked, breaking the spell as his curious eyes followed jimin’s line of sight.

sua’s eyes narrowed as she traced jimin’s unwavering gaze. her expression faltered, and a wave of unease washed over her. the pit of her stomach dropped as she laid eyes on you. scoffing, she tried to mask her discomfort with disdain. “you must be living under a rock if you don’t know who that is.” her words only heightened the tension among the group. jimin’s friend looked genuinely puzzled. “who?”

with a withering look, she introduced your name, her tone dripping with condescension. “that’s the daughter of the hostess club owner. her mother used to work there too.” disbelief rippled through the group. whispers spread like wildfire, but jimin’s gaze remained locked on you, unblinking, as if you were the only person in the world. “you’re serious?” his friend’s voice was incredulous.

sua continued, her voice louder now, tinged with a cruel satisfaction. “yeah, her mother owned an underground hostess club. it was part of poseidon hotel until it got shut down. then her husband divorced her.” the shock among their friends was palpable. “what’s she doing here, then?”

she scoffed, her eyes glinting with malicious glee. “she must’ve thought this school was a safe haven.” she paused, a sneer curling her lips. “but she’s dead wrong.”

jimin barely registered a word she said. his focus was entirely on you, a smile slowly forming on his lips. he watched you as you walked, each step you took reinforcing his fascination. in that moment, you were the epitome of resilience and grace, a stark contrast to the superficiality surrounding him. and as the whispers and judgments swirled around him, he found himself more drawn to you than ever, intrigued by the story that lay beneath your serene exterior.

as you walked through the sunlit halls, a sense of calm washed over you despite the whispers and sideways glances. you were accustomed to the stares, the judgment, the endless cycle of whispers that followed you like a shadow. yet, as you moved forward, you felt a pair of eyes on you that seemed different—intense, unwavering.

you turned your head slightly and your eyes met his. jimin’s gaze was piercing, a curious mix of intrigue and admiration. his presence was magnetic, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background. the noise, the whispers, the world—it all seemed to vanish as you locked eyes with him. “jisoo, who is that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

she glanced in the direction you were looking and scoffed, her disdain evident. “that’s jimin. son of park and co.,” she said, her tone dripping with disbelief. “he’s obnoxious, selfish, and a complete pain in the ass. not to mention, he’s dating kang sua. they’re both equally corrupt—a match made in heaven.” you glanced back at him, who hadn’t taken his eyes off you. his friends, taehyung and jaebum, were laughing and joking around him, their behavior loud and almost childlike. jisoo noticed the way your gaze lingered on jimin and sighed.

“look,” she said, her voice firm, “keep your distance from him. his type is nothing but trouble.” the bell rang, signaling the end of your brief moment of curiosity. she tugged gently at your arm, her voice softening. “come on, it’s time for class.”

you followed her, your thoughts lingering on jimin’s gaze and the strange connection you felt in that brief moment. the halls were bustling with students heading to their next classes, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying the encounter over and over. jisoo kept talking, her voice a steady stream of background noise as she led you through the corridors. “trust me, you don’t want to get involved with him or his friends. they’re all bad news.”

you nodded absently, but the memory of his eyes—intense and unwavering—remained with you. as you took your seat in the classroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far more complex and intertwined than you could have ever anticipated.

class began, and the room settled into a hush as the professor walked to the front and began writing on the board. her chalk traced out a single word in elegant, flowing script. love. the silence deepened as she turned to face the class, her expression thoughtful. “today, we’ll discuss the principle of love,” she announced, her voice carrying a gentle authority. “i want to hear your opinions, your experiences, your definitions. love is complex, multifaceted, and personal. let’s start with you, kang sua.”

sua straightened in her seat, her demeanor poised and confident. “love conquers all,” she declared, her voice smooth and rehearsed. “it’s the most powerful force in the world. when you truly love someone, you can overcome any obstacle together.” the professor nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “thank you, sua. that’s a very traditional perspective.” she turned to another student. “jung jisoo, how about you?”

she grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “love is just a contract. there should be money involved to make it worthwhile,” she quipped, earning a ripple of laughter from the class. the professor chuckled, shaking her head slightly. “always the pragmatist, jisoo. alright, park jimin, what’s your take on love?”

his gaze was still fixed on you, his eyes unreadable. “love is cruel, blind, and unexpected,” he said, his voice steady and low. “especially at first sight.” sua scoffed next to him, her irritation evident, but he didn’t waver, his eyes never leaving yours. the professor’s eyes followed jimin’s gaze to you, and she smiled warmly. “and what about our new student? would you like to share your thoughts on love?”

you felt a dozen pairs of eyes on you as you stood up, but you kept your composure. “love is just an illusion,” you began, your voice soft but clear. “it’s a beautiful, intricate mirage that we chase, believing it will fulfill us. but in the end, it’s fleeting and fragile, existing only as long as we believe in it. it's precisely why we shouldn't believe in it.” the room was silent for a moment, absorbing your words. the professor nodded, her eyes thoughtful. “thank you. such a variety of perspectives. love truly is a complex subject.”

as you took your seat, you turned slightly and locked eyes with jimin. his expression softened, and he offered you a sweet smile that seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words. next to him, sua’s glare was sharp and unyielding, her eyes filled with a mix of jealousy and disdain. the rest of the class passed in a blur, your thoughts tangled with the exchange of ideas and the intensity of jimin’s gaze. the whispers and judgments seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a new, inexplicable connection that left you feeling both intrigued and wary.

the bell rang, its sharp chime echoing through the classroom. students began to gather their belongings, the hum of conversation rising as they prepared to exit. you stood up, feeling the weight of their lingering gazes, and gathered your books. as you moved towards the door, you caught sight of sua stopping jimin, her manicured hand lightly gripping his arm.

“jimin, wait,” she said, her voice smooth but edged with irritation. he paused, turning to face her. she adjusted the collar of his shirt, her eyes narrowing as she spoke. “you seemed to be lost in thought at the sight of her,” she remarked, her glare piercing. “is she that pretty?”

he shook his head slightly, his expression guarded. “it’s not that,” he replied, his voice calm. her lips curled into a thin smile. “a shame, because i had a proposal for you.”

his curiosity was piqued. “what is it?”

sua tilted her head, her eyes never leaving his. “do you love me?” she asked, her tone deceptively sweet. his gaze softened. “of course, i do.”

she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “then if you love me, you’ll do me this favor.” his brows furrowed. “what do you want?”

her eyes flickered with a dangerous gleam. “the hostess’s daughter seemed to have a poor outlook on love,” she began, her words dripping with malice. “tempt her, make her feel loved.” jimin’s eyes widened in disbelief. “are you serious?”

her smile grew colder. “tempt her, and break her down even more,” she continued, her voice unwavering. “only if you love me.”

jimin hesitated, his gaze searching her face. “why do you hate her so much?” he asked quietly. her expression darkened, her eyes briefly clouded with an emotion she quickly masked. “don’t worry about it,” she replied, her tone dismissive. “i just need to know whose side you’re on.”

his jaw tightened, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within him. after a moment, he nodded. “alright, sua. i’ll do my best.” her smile returned, her grip on his arm loosening. “good,” she said, satisfaction evident in her voice. “that’s all i needed to hear.”

as they walked out of the classroom together, you watched them, unaware of the twisted plan unfolding. jimin’s eyes met yours one last time, his expression unreadable, while sua’s glare remained cold and calculating. the weight of the coming days hung heavily in the air, the delicate balance of your new life poised on the edge of a precipice.

as you walked towards the bathroom, the bustling noise of the school faded behind you. the bathroom was a surprising oasis of cleanliness and elegance, its marble countertops and polished fixtures starkly contrasting with the chaos you had just left. you approached the mirror, touching up your makeup with practiced precision, the brush of lipstick creating a vivid red against your lips.

the sound of heels clicking on the tiled floor interrupted your solitude. you glanced up in the reflection and saw sua’s cold, piercing gaze meeting yours. she walked with deliberate steps to the sink beside yours, her movements graceful and deliberate. she pulled out a tube of lipstick from her designer makeup set and began applying it with the same meticulous care you had shown moments before.

her eyes flickered to you, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “dior?” she said, her tone dripping with condescension. “expensive lipstick. seems like you have taste.” you met her gaze in the mirror, lifting an eyebrow. “yeah, seems like you do too,” you replied, nodding towards her own luxurious makeup set.

for a brief moment, her expression softened, and she gave you a polite nod. “thank you,” she said, the hint of warmth in her voice seeming almost genuine. but her demeanor changed abruptly, the warmth vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. “only mine wasn’t bought with the money of a whore,” she added, her voice laced with venom. “can you believe it?”

without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked out, her heels clicking sharply as she disappeared down the hallway. you stood frozen, the sting of her words lingering as you stared at your reflection, struggling to process the encounter. as you made your way towards your locker, trying to shake off the shock, you heard a new voice call out behind you. “ignore her. she isn’t worth it.”

you turned to find jimin approaching, a smile on his face that seemed almost too genuine. you raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident in your gaze. “that’s not a nice thing to say about your girlfriend.” his smile widened, but there was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “she isn’t my girlfriend, can you believe it?” he said, his voice carrying an edge of amusement.

you stared at him, disbelief etched on your face. “she isn’t?” jimin shook his head. “no, she was nothing more than a friend. nothing more,” he reiterated, his tone casual but loaded with meaning.

you nodded slowly, taking in the revelation. the weight of his words settled over you, but before you could respond, he continued. “i heard your speech in class. isn’t that a bit pessimistic of you?” you scoffed, shaking your head slightly. “there’s a difference between pessimism and realism,” you said, your voice carrying an edge of finality. with that, you turned on your heel and walked away, your thoughts swirling with the day’s events. he watched you leave, his smile fading into a thoughtful expression. the challenge of seducing you, he realized, was more complex than he had anticipated.

as you navigated the bustling halls and classrooms of your new school, jimin's presence remained a constant, subtle influence. each encounter seemed to unravel new layers of his enigmatic demeanor. one afternoon, you dropped your pencil as you were collecting your things from your desk. jimin, who had been seated nearby, swiftly picked it up and extended it towards you with a polite smile.

“you dropped this,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a glint of genuine warmth. “thank you,” you replied, accepting the pencil. the gesture, though small, felt surprisingly considerate.

a few days later, you were walking through the school courtyard when jimin approached you. his gaze lingered on your hair, which had been styled into soft waves that day. “your hair looks great today,” he said casually, his voice smooth and appreciative. “it suits you.” you glanced at him, taken aback by the compliment. “thanks,” you said, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

later that week, as you were struggling with a particularly heavy door while juggling your books, he appeared beside you, effortlessly holding the door open. “need some help?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze steady. you nodded, murmuring a grateful “yes, please,” as you passed through the door. he held it open until you were safely through, his smile never wavering. “no problem,” he said, his tone as warm as his smile.

despite his seemingly small acts of chivalry, you remained cautious, unsure of his true intentions. as the sun began to set, you walked home with jisoo by your side. the day’s interactions with jimin weighed heavily on your mind. jisoo turned to you with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity. “i can’t believe he was—so nice to you,” she said, her brows furrowing. “and he said he isn’t dating sua?”

you nodded, still processing the events. “yeah, he told me he wasn’t dating her. it was surprising.” she shook her head, her skepticism evident. “i swear i saw them holding hands. maybe i was wrong. it’s hard to keep track of everyone’s alliances here.”

as you neared your home, the familiar, somewhat shabby house came into view. jisoo practically burst through the door, greeting your mother with a burst of enthusiasm. “hi, mrs. (l/n)! it’s so good to see you!” your mother looked up from her work, her expression softening slightly as she took in jisoo’s exuberance. “at least one of you is happy to see me,” she remarked, her voice carrying a hint of wistfulness.

you forced a smile, though the tension between you and your mother still lingered beneath the surface. her activities had tainted the perception others had of you, casting a long shadow over your life. though you had ceased to resent her, the scars of the past remained. your mother turned to jisoo, her demeanor brightening. “are you staying the night?”

she nodded enthusiastically, her smile radiant. “yes, i am. i’ll help with lunch, too.” as she hugged you warmly, you couldn’t help but appreciate her presence. her support was a comforting constant in the whirlwind of your new life. the door closed behind you, the evening settling into a quiet rhythm of familiarity and routine, punctuated by the soft, reassuring hum of home.

the aroma of homemade dishes filled the kitchen as you, jisoo, and your mother gathered around the dining table. the meal was a comforting array of flavors, a stark contrast to the coldness of the school environment. laughter and the clinking of cutlery provided a soothing background to the conversation.

jisoo broke the comfortable silence, in a lively manner. “oh, by the way, i almost forgot to tell you,” she began, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she turned to your mother. “your daughter has a not-so-secret admirer.”

you shot her a warning glance, your cheeks flushing slightly. “knock it off,” you warned, trying to downplay the remark. your mother, who had been quietly enjoying her meal, looked up with an intrigued expression. “really?” she asked, her tone a mixture of curiosity and surprise. “who is it?”

you shrugged, attempting to brush off the topic. “it’s nobody important. he was just being nice.” your mother’s eyes narrowed slightly, her interest clearly piqued. “being nice is more than enough given the reputation our family has. who is it?”

jisoo chimed in before you could intervene. “it’s park jimin, the son of park and co.” at the mention of the name, your mother’s expression shifted noticeably. her eyes widened slightly, and a fleeting look of discomfort crossed her face. “is that true?” she asked, her voice laced with apprehension.

you shook your head, feeling a pang of frustration as you shot jisoo a stern glare. “he’s just being nice, mom. nothing more.” your mother’s expression remained tense, and she murmured, almost to herself, “let’s hope that’s all it is.” you chose not to press the issue further, sensing that there was more to her reaction than she was willing to share. the conversation veered back to more mundane topics, but the earlier unease lingered in the air.

as the meal continued, your phone buzzed on the table, drawing your attention. you glanced at the screen and saw a message from an unknown number. the text was brief, its content ambiguous: “you looked gorgeous today.” your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a rush of curiosity mixed with apprehension. the timing was too coincidental, given the conversation you’d just had. you stared at the message for a moment, trying to process the sudden shift in your day.

jisoo noticed your distraction and leaned in, her curiosity evident. “who’s that?” you hesitated before replying, “it’s just someone from school.” you kept your tone casual, though the tension of the moment was hard to ignore. your mother looked at you with a mixture of concern and curiosity, but she didn’t press further. the conversation resumed, but the atmosphere had changed subtly. the content of the message weighed on your mind, leaving you to ponder.

as the evening settled into a calm hush, you retreated to your room, a sanctuary of tranquility amidst the day's turmoil. the room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting gentle shadows on the walls. jisoo, lounging comfortably on your bed, was indulging in a face mask, her eyes peeking out from behind the mask’s fabric.

you sat at your desk, absorbed in the glow of your laptop screen, fingers poised over the keyboard. the message from jimin lingered in your mind, and you began typing a reply, seeking clarity. “how did you get my number?” you inquired, your fingers hesitating slightly as you considered the implications of his response.

from her spot on the bed, jisoo watched you intently, her curiosity barely contained. “so, who’s the mysterious texter?” she asked, her voice muffled by the mask. you sighed, glancing at her. “it’s jimin. somehow, he managed to get my number.”

her eyes widened in surprise, and she adjusted her face mask, which had slipped askew. “how'd he get your number? do you have any idea?” you shook your head. “that’s what i’m trying to figure out.”

the reply from jimin arrived almost immediately. the message was as enigmatic as ever: “a gentleman never reveals his tricks.” you chuckled softly at the message, finding a hint of amusement in his playful secrecy. jisoo, intrigued, leaned closer. “did he reply?”

you nodded, reading out his words. “he said, ‘a gentleman never reveals his tricks.’” her eyebrows shot up, her expression a mix of disbelief and concern. “what a psycho. what if he’s watching us right now?”

you laughed lightly, shaking your head. “lay off the slasher movies. i’m sure he’s not lurking around.” you climbed into bed next to her, feeling the comfort of her presence.

her face was a mask of worry, despite the relaxation of the evening. “i’m serious,” she said, her voice earnest. “you should really avoid people like him. they’re trouble.” you turned on your side to face her, the warmth of the room contrasting with the tension of your conversation. “there’s something about him that draws me in,” you admitted, your voice soft but resolute.

she scoffed, her expression both teasing and concerned. “it’s just hormones. you’re probably caught up in the excitement of it all. maybe you should consider visiting a priest or something.” you gave her a playful shove, though her words resonated with a kernel of truth. “oh, come on. it’s not that serious.” despite the light-hearted banter, a part of you recognized the challenge of avoiding someone like jimin. his presence, enigmatic and alluring, had already begun to weave itself into the fabric of your daily life, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the pull he exerted on you.

the morning sun cast a golden glow over the school's fields as students gathered for their physical education class. the crisp air carried with it a sense of anticipation and a touch of chill. you walked alongside jisoo, who was grumbling with an exaggerated sigh. “running around at eight in the morning is basically child slavery,” she complained, her voice dripping with melodrama.

you chuckled, finding amusement in her theatrics. “use that for your college essay. sounds like a hit.” she shot you a playful glare before returning to her grumbling. “and these skirts are way too short for this kind of weather. i can practically feel my ovaries freezing.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “you should sell them while they’re frozen.” as you approached the equipment, your gaze fell upon jimin. he stood on the court in a crisp white shirt and sweatpants, the sunlight highlighting the confident smile on his lips as he noticed you. you met his gaze with a smile of your own, but jisoo’s whining pulled you back to the present. “that’s not a bad idea,” she muttered as you both moved to grab the tennis rackets.

the field was soon filled with the rhythmic thwack of tennis balls and the shuffling of sneakers against the ground. you and jisoo took your positions, the coach calling out encouragements and praise as you warmed up, suggesting you to join the team. you excelled at tennis, each stroke precise and powerful, as though the sport was second nature to you. the coach’s praise was a testament to your skill, and he urged you to consider joining the team. jisoo, panting slightly, looked at you with a mix of admiration and exhaustion. “you should definitely do it,” she encouraged, her voice earnest.

before you could offer her help, a voice interrupted your concentration. you turned to see jimin standing nearby, his eyes gleaming with a challenge. “star player,” he called out, “how about you play against me?” surprise flickered across your face, but you nodded, accepting the challenge. the students gathered around, their murmurs and cheers creating a buzz of excitement in the air. the court became a stage, with the intensity of the match drawing everyone’s attention.

the game began, and you and jimin faced each other across the net. his movements were fluid and graceful, but there was a distinct edge to his play—a blend of skill and a hint of showmanship. each serve he delivered was precise, each return a test of your agility and strategy. you matched him stroke for stroke, your rackets slicing through the air with practiced ease. his eyes never left you as the match progressed. he adapted to your style, countering your moves with surprising finesse. the rally between you was a dance of athleticism and precision, the sound of the ball against the racket a rhythmic accompaniment to the growing tension. sweat glistened on both your foreheads as the game pushed both of you to your limits.

in a final, exhilarating exchange, you executed a perfect cross-court shot that jimin couldn’t quite reach. the ball landed just inside the boundary, and the whistle blew, signaling the end of the match. the crowd erupted into applause, their cheers blending into a single, enthusiastic roar.

he approached you, his smile genuine and admiring. “congrats,” he said, his voice warm. “you really are the star player.” you met his gaze, smiling in return. “you’re the star opponent.”

jisoo, standing beside you, couldn’t resist a final jab. “looks like he finally found something he sucks at,” she scoffed, her tone playful. he laughed, the sound light and carefree. “i’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he joined his friends.

you and jisoo sat in the bustling cafeteria, the noise of lunchtime chatter surrounding you. as you indulged in your lunch, you both found yourselves engrossed in a seemingly pointless debate. “so, if you could choose between never having to sleep again or never needing to eat again, which would you pick?” she asked, her tone light and her gaze almost empty-headed.

you considered it for a moment before responding, “definitely never needing to eat again. imagine all the time you’d save.” she laughed, shaking her head. “think of all the delicious food you’d miss out on. i’d choose sleep, no contest.”

as you continued your discussion, sua and her entourage swept into the cafeteria, their presence commanding attention. her eyes narrowed when she spotted you, a smirk spreading across her lips. she strode over with an air of practiced arrogance, her friends trailing behind. without a word, she plopped down across from you, her eyes glinting with a mixture of challenge and disdain. jisoo, clearly unimpressed, looked up from her meal. “what do you want?”

her smile widened, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “up to your friend. is bottle service included?” the cafeteria buzzed with murmurs and sidelong glances, the scene quickly drawing attention. you raised an eyebrow, matching her tone with a taunting edge. “how about a lap dance? is that enough?”

her expression darkened, her eyes flashing with irritation. “you seem cheap enough for one,” she snapped. with a sudden, aggressive motion, she pushed your tray onto your lap, sending your food tumbling onto your clothes. the sudden mess caused a gasp to ripple through the nearby tables. jisoo’s face turned pale with anger. “you must be out of your mind,” she growled, her voice trembling with rage.

before she could escalate the situation further, the cafeteria fell into an uneasy silence as jimin walked in, his presence instantly commanding attention. he scanned the room, his eyes quickly locking onto the commotion at your table. “what’s going on here?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of authority. sua’s lips curled into a smirk as she replied, “just closing a deal.”

his gaze flickered between sua and you, a look of concern crossing his features. without waiting for her response, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her aside. his tone was firm and edged with frustration. “are you done here?” she huffed, her expression defiant. “i haven’t even started.”

jimin glanced back at your table, his eyes searching for you, but you had already stood up, brushing off the remnants of food from your clothes and gathering your things. you felt jisoo’s concerned gaze on you as you hurriedly made your way out of the cafeteria. he turned back to sua, his expression serious. “tone it down,” he said tersely. he began to follow in your direction, his concern palpable.

as he followed you, the cafeteria’s murmur of astonishment faded into the background, leaving you to navigate the hallways with a mixture of determination and unease. jisoo stayed close behind, her presence a comforting reminder of the support you had. you didn’t stick around to see what happened next. you slipped out of the cafeteria, the humiliation burning in your cheeks. you found yourself in an empty hallway, scrubbing at the stains on your skirt and blouse with a moist tissue. the tears threatened to spill over, but you fought them back, determined not to let sua win.

“you’re doing it wrong.”

the voice startled you, and you looked up to see jimin approaching. he knelt beside you, gently taking the tissue from your hand. “let me,” he said softly, wiping your uniform with surprising precision and gentleness. “she’s just jealous of you, you know,” he murmured as he worked.

you scoffed, shaking your head. “she has nothing to be jealous of.” he glanced up at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “that’s what you think.”

you watched him, the way his hands moved with careful attention, and a strange sensation stirred within you. it was something you couldn’t quite name, something warm and fluttering in your chest and stomach. “why are you being so nice to me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “given my reputation and all.”

he paused, his eyes meeting yours. “everyone has their flaws,” he said simply. he smiled again, a genuine, heartwarming smile. “it wouldn’t be fair for such a pretty girl to have no flaws, right?” the unexpected compliment made you feel a rush of emotions. you couldn’t help but smile back at him, the warmth spreading through you. his kindness felt like a beacon of light in your turbulent world, and you found yourself drawn to him in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

the biology classroom buzzed with the low hum of student chatter, the scent of textbooks and lingering antiseptic filling the air. you took your seat beside jisoo, still feeling the sting of the cafeteria incident, though you tried to push it to the back of your mind. she leaned over, her voice a quiet murmur. “are you okay? i swear, i’ll kill her for what she did.”

you managed a small smile, the ghost of amusement flickering in your eyes. “i’m fine. i’ll even help you hide the body.” she grinned, though the worry didn’t leave her eyes. before either of you could say more, the professor strode into the room, commanding immediate attention. he was a tall, thin man with a perpetually serious expression, his glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose.

“good afternoon, class,” he began, his voice cutting through the remaining whispers. “today, we’re starting a new project, one that will make up half of your final grade.” a collective groan rippled through the room, jisoo’s being the loudest.

“i hate science,” she muttered beside you. “everyone should just turn to God instead.” you might have laughed at her comment, but your attention was elsewhere. across the room, jimin sat with a soft smile playing on his lips, his eyes locking onto yours. the connection was brief but charged, a silent exchange that made your heart skip a beat.

the professor continued, oblivious to the undercurrents running through his classroom. “this project will involve both theoretical research and practical application. you will be studying various biological processes and their implications. each pair will be assigned a specific topic, which you’ll need to explore in depth. your presentation should include a detailed report and a demonstration of your findings.”

as he spoke, you barely registered his words, your mind preoccupied with the inexplicable pull towards jimin. it wasn’t until jisoo’s exaggerated whine broke through your thoughts that you snapped back to reality. “that’s not fair,” she protested. you turned to her, puzzled. “what are you talking about?”

her eyes were wide with disbelief as she leaned closer. “you’ve been partnered up with jimin.” your gaze flicked back to him, who was still looking at you with that infuriatingly soft smile. the professor’s voice droned on, repeating the importance of the project and its significant impact on your final grade.

next to jimin, sua scoffed loudly enough for those nearby to hear. “you must be ecstatic,” she spat. he turned to her, his expression a mix of frustration and confusion. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

she sneered, her eyes cold. “i see the way you look at her.” his frustration was evident as he shot back, “i’m only doing what you wanted.” her sneer deepened, but there was something in her eyes, a flicker of something almost like hurt, that she quickly masked with disdain. the tension between them was palpable, and you couldn’t help but feel caught in the crossfire of their unspoken conflict.

as the class went on, the professor handed out assignment sheets, detailing the topics and expectations for each pair. you glanced at the paper, trying to focus on the task at hand, but your mind kept drifting back to jimin. there was something about him, something beyond his charming smile and easy demeanor, that intrigued you. after class, jisoo grabbed your arm, her expression a mix of worry and excitement. “are you okay with this? i mean, working with him?”

you nodded slowly, still processing the unexpected turn of events. “i guess i don’t have much of a choice, do i?” she sighed, shaking her head. “just be careful, okay? i don’t trust him. or sua, for that matter.”

you squeezed her hand reassuringly. “i’ll be fine. it’s just a project.” but even as you said the words, you knew that it was more than just a project. it was an entanglement, a thread pulling you deeper into a web of intrigue and emotion. and as you walked out of the classroom, jimin’s gaze followed you, a silent promise of complications yet to come.

the library was a sanctuary of quiet, filled with the scent of old books and the soft rustling of pages turning. you wandered the aisles, collecting the necessary books for your biology project, the weight of their knowledge promising to lighten your academic burden. reaching for a particularly thick volume on a high shelf, you stretched on your toes, your fingers just grazing the spine when a hand reached up beside yours and plucked it effortlessly.

turning to protest, you found yourself face to face with jimin. he handed you the book with a small, teasing smile. “here you go,” he said. “thanks,” you replied, taking the book and trying to ignore the flutter in your chest. you moved to find a table, and he followed, his presence a constant, warm shadow.

as you settled into your seats, he broke the silence. “i have to admit, i don’t know much about biology. to be honest, it’s all a bit of a mystery to me.” you laughed, the sound light and genuine. “don’t worry, i’ll get you through it.”

you opened the books and began taking notes, trying to focus on the complex terms and diagrams. jimin, however, seemed more interested in watching you. every so often, you’d catch him glancing your way, a soft, thoughtful look in his eyes. at one point, he peered over your shoulder, reading aloud from the book.

“‘oxytocin,’” he said, his voice low and smooth, “‘a hormone that contributes to the biological process that stimulates the feeling of love.’” for a second, your eyes met, and a rush of warmth spread through you. you tried to push past it, scoffing lightly. “see? it’s just hormones.”

he leaned back in his chair, an amused glint in his eyes. “you really don’t believe in love, do you?” you hesitated, the question cutting deeper than you expected. shaking your head, you tried to muster a nonchalant response. “not really.”

his curiosity piqued, he leaned in closer, folding his arms over the book. “why not?” for the first time, someone had actually asked why, and it took you a moment to find your voice. your heart beat a little faster as you began. “because—”

you paused, the memories flooding back. “i used to believe in it, while my parents were together. then, my mother did what she did.” you laughed, but there was no humor in it. “it seemed like nothing was more important than money. not shame, not her family. and when dad left us, it ruined me, but all she cared about was making money.”

his expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand. his touch was gentle, sending shockwaves through you. “that sounds rough, but it won’t always be rough. if you’re not tempted by the wrong things, you’ll always end up with the right things.” you couldn’t help but ease into the warmth of his hand, the connection grounding you. “how do we know what the right thing is?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

jimin smiled, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “you’ll know when you feel it.” and in that moment, you swore you felt it. the sincerity in his eyes, the warmth of his touch—it was like a spark of something genuine, something real. for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to believe, if only for a fleeting second, that maybe, just maybe, there was something more.

the sun dipped low in the sky as you walked home, the air crisp and cool, carrying the scents of autumn. jimin strolled beside you, his hands tucked casually in his pockets. the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by comfortable silences that felt more like shared moments of understanding than lapses. as your house came into view, you turned to say goodbye, but your words caught in your throat as your mother stepped out onto the porch.

her face lit up with a welcoming smile. “you’re back later than usual,” she remarked, before turning her gaze to jimin. “and who might this be?”

he smiled politely and took a step forward. “i’m sorry, ma’am. we were studying together. i’m park jimin.” for a moment, your mother’s face seemed to freeze, her smile faltering as she examined him closely. “you look so much like your father,” she murmured, shaking her head as if to clear away old memories. her smile returned, albeit a bit more strained. “would you like to stay over for lunch, jimin?”

you blinked, glancing between the two of them, taken aback by her invitation. his laughter was nervous but genuine as he nodded. “i’d love to. thank you.”

inside, the house was warm, the kitchen filled with the comforting aroma of simmering soup and freshly baked bread. you helped your mother set the table, the clinking of dishes a soothing background noise. when you placed a bowl in front of jimin, your eyes met, and your heart fluttered inexplicably.

lunch was a quiet, intimate affair. your mother had outdone herself, serving a hearty meal that seemed to ease some of the tension in the air. jimin praised the food, and your mother’s smile was genuine this time, the warmth in her eyes reflecting her pride. “so, jimin,” your mother began, her tone conversational but probing, “i suppose you’ve heard about the scandal.”

he paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth, before setting it down gently. “i’ve heard a bit, yes,” he replied, his voice careful. “but it’s nothing to worry about. these things blow over soon enough.” you tensed at the mention of it, your appetite waning. your mother noticed and gave you a reassuring look before turning back to him. “you’re quite understanding. my daughter mentioned you not too long ago.”

you felt your cheeks burn as you scolded her softly, “mom, please.” jimin’s eyes sparkled with amusement, and he turned to you, an eyebrow raised. “oh, really?”

your embarrassment deepened, and you stammered, “it’s not a big deal.” your mother shook her head, her smile unwavering. “she’s never talked about a boy in her life. this is a big deal.”

jimin’s smile widened, his heart fluttering at the mention. “well, i’m honored,” he said softly, his gaze holding yours a moment longer than necessary. as the meal progressed, the conversation flowed easily. your mother seemed to warm up to him, her initial wariness melting away in the face of his genuine charm. he spoke about his interests, his plans for the future, and every so often, his eyes would flicker to you, as if seeking your approval.

as lunch came to an end, you found yourself reluctant to see jimin go. there was something about his presence that felt comforting, like a balm to your frayed nerves. when he finally stood to leave, your mother pressed a container of leftovers into his hands, insisting he take it. “thank you for having me,” he said, his voice sincere. “i really appreciate it.”

as you walked him to the door, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing. “thank you for today,” you said softly. he smiled, his eyes warm. “thank you for having me. i’ll see you at school?”

you nodded, unable to keep the smile from your lips. “see you at school.” and as he walked away, you felt a sense of anticipation, a feeling that perhaps, life was about to surprise you after all.

jimin walked the familiar path to his manor, the weight of the day pressing lightly on his shoulders. the estate loomed ahead, its grandeur a testament to his family’s status. as he entered, the smell of rich mahogany and leather filled his senses. his mother was seated on the couch, a glass of wine in hand, her expression turning to one of concern as she saw him.

“where have you been?” she asked, her voice soft but probing. his father, seated in his favorite armchair, eyed him cautiously. “studying for my upcoming project with a friend,” jimin replied, trying to keep his tone casual.

his father chuckled, a sound that held more skepticism than amusement. “studying, you say? snow must be forecasted for tomorrow.” jimin attempted to laugh it off, but his older sister chimed in. yura was a striking figure, a successful businesswoman who often indulged in wine with their mother. “a friend?” she queried, her tone laced with curiosity. “does this friend happen to be a girl?”

he tried to brush it off, maintaining his nonchalant demeanor. “yes, but she’s just a friend.” his mother’s brow furrowed slightly. “are you still seeing sua?” she asked, her concern evident.

jimin nodded, his voice steady. “yes, i am.”

“then why are you hanging out with other girls?” she pressed. before he could respond, his father intervened, his tone lighter. “he’s young. he has the right to have some fun.” this earned him skeptical glares from both his wife and daughter.

as jimin made his way up the grand staircase to his room, his mother’s voice followed him. “have you taken your pills?” his chest tightened at the reminder. “i’ll take them now,” he assured her.

“good,” she replied. “we don’t need another incident.” he felt a pang of unease at her words but continued to his room, closing the door behind him. the room was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where he could be himself. he crossed to his desk, where a bottle of pills stood as a stark reminder of his responsibilities. he frowned as he took one, the bitterness of the pill a sharp contrast to the sweetness of his earlier encounter with you.

but he couldn't dwell on the bitterness for long. the thought of you brought a warmth to his chest, a happiness that seemed to light up even the darkest corners of his mind. he plopped onto the couch, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he couldn't help but think about your eyes, the way they sparkled when you talked about something you were passionate about, and the way your laughter seemed to fill the room with light. for a moment, the weight of his family's expectations, the pills, and the memories of past incidents faded into the background.

the following morning, the sun cast a gentle glow over the tennis courts, the light filtering through the early morning haze. you were already on the court, warming up and serving balls with precise, practiced motions. each serve sliced through the air, a testament to your skill and dedication. the rest of the students began to line up, their murmurs a quiet hum in the background.

you stopped in your tracks when you heard a familiar scoff. looking up, you saw sua standing at the edge of the court, her smirk as sharp as ever. “don't worry, it isn't lunch yet,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. she paused, her eyes narrowing. “let's see if you're as good as they say you are.”

you squared your shoulders, determination settling in your bones. the showdown began, each of you serving and returning the ball with fierce intensity. the rhythmic sound of tennis balls being struck echoed around the court, blending with the rising tension in the air. jimin walked onto the field, curiosity etched on his features. spotting jaebum, he asked, “what's going on?”

jaebum, eyes fixed on the game, replied, “your girlfriend’s getting her ass handed to her.” to his surprise, a smile played on jimin's lips as he watched you. your form was impeccable, each movement fluid and powerful. the way you played was mesmerizing, a dance of skill and tenacity. the match grew more intense. you blocked sua's attempts to send the ball flying past you, returning each one with precision. the final moment came when sua, out of frustration, aimed a ball straight at your face. you blocked it effortlessly, sending it back her way with a force she couldn’t match. she scrambled, but couldn't save it in time.

the court erupted in applause, but sua was far from gracious in defeat. ahe strode over to you, her expression dark. “you have a way with balls,” she sneered. “your mother taught you well.”

fed up, you closed the distance between you, your hand darting out and colliding with the side of her face. the sound echoed around the court, followed by a collective gasp from the students. “i've had just about enough of your shit,” you said, your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you.

her eyes widened in shock. “have you lost your mind?” she demanded, raising her hand to strike you back. you flinched, bracing for the impact, but it never came. instead, jimin's grip closed around sua's wrist, stopping her cold. your heart raced as you watched the scene unfold.

“she slapped me,” she practically shrieked, her voice filled with indignation. “did you see what she did?” jimin’s expression remained calm, almost amused. “yeah, maybe you should stop biting off more than you can chew.” he dropped her hand, leaving her stunned and speechless.

turning to you, he grabbed your wrist, his touch firm but gentle. “come on,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “where are we going?” you asked, trying to keep up with his brisk pace.

“we're ditching school for the day,” he informed you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. you opened your mouth to protest, but the words died on your lips. there was something about the way he led you away, the sense of freedom in breaking the rules just this once, that made it impossible to resist. the two of you walked off the field, leaving behind the shocked whispers and lingering tension of the court.

as you walked briskly beside him, you couldn’t help but ask, “why the sudden idea?” he stiffened slightly, his grip on your wrist loosening but not letting go entirely. “you seem like you need a break,” he replied, his voice softer than usual.

the tension from the tennis court gradually melted away as you both ventured into the city. the world outside school walls felt different, lighter, filled with possibilities. your steps slowed as you approached a quaint coffee shop. the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted out as jimin held the door open for you. inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, the soft murmur of conversations blending with the clinking of cups.

you found a cozy corner by the window, and jimin ordered two lattes. when he returned with the steaming cups, he placed one in front of you and took a seat across the small table. “so,” he began, stirring his coffee thoughtfully, “tell me something about yourself that no one else knows.” you smiled, taking a sip of your latte. “i’m not as boring as people think,” you said, your tone playful.

he chuckled, a genuine smile lighting up his face. “i never thought you were boring.” the conversation flowed easily, laughter mingling with the aroma of coffee. you found yourself sharing stories, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders with each passing moment.

after leaving the coffee shop, you both wandered to a nearby park. the trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves whispering secrets to the wind. you found a bench beneath a large oak tree, its branches casting dappled shadows on the ground. jimin stretched out beside you, his gaze thoughtful. “you know,” he said, “sometimes you just need to let go and enjoy the little things.”

you nodded, watching as children played nearby, their laughter infectious. “i guess i’ve forgotten how to do that.” he turned to you, his eyes earnest. “then let’s remind you.”

the day seemed to pass in a blur of moments—feeding ducks at the pond, racing each other up a hill, and sharing stories beneath the shade of the old oak tree. each moment felt like a stolen piece of happiness, a reprieve from the usual chaos. as the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, jimin suggested one more stop. “let’s go to the beach,” he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

the beach was a short walk away, and the walk itself was filled with easy conversation and the hum of the active city. when you finally arrived, the sight of the sea stretching endlessly before you took your breath away. you kicked off your shoes, the cool sand seeping between your toes as you walked towards the shoreline. “i haven’t been to the beach in a long time,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “the last time i went was when my parents were still together.”

jimin’s gaze softened, and he brushed a strand of hair from your forehead. “you should come more often,” he said gently. you looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “why?”

he pointed to the sea, its waves lapping gently at the shore. “you’re as pretty as the sea.” you couldn’t help but blush, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “you’re not as awful as people say you are,” you said, your tone teasing.

he smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “you have no idea.” curiosity piqued, you asked, “what do you mean by that?”

he shrugged, looking out at the horizon. “i’ve got a lot on my plate, too.” you were about to ask him what he meant, the words forming on your lips, when he cut you off with a gentle kiss on your forehead. the touch was soft, lingering, and it sent a rush of warmth through you. you were taken aback, your heart pounding in your chest. he noticed your surprise and smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“come on,” he said, taking your hand. “we have a project to study for.” the butterflies in your stomach refused to settle as you followed him, the day’s events playing over and over in your mind. the sun set in the distance, casting a golden glow over the beach, but all you could think about was the boy beside you.

you walked with him, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the path as you approached his manor. the sight of the grand, imposing structure took your breath away, its sheer size and elegance making you feel small in comparison. jimin noticed your awe and smiled softly, guiding you through the expansive entrance. “welcome to my humble abode,” he joked, though there was a hint of something deeper in his eyes—perhaps a reluctance or discomfort with the grandeur of his home.

he led you through the hallways, each one more opulent than the last, until you reached his room. it was surprisingly simple compared to the rest of the house, a sanctuary of purity and calm. the walls were adorned with soft hues, the furniture understated yet elegant. your eyes landed on a series of framed baby photos on his bedside table. “is that you?” you asked, pointing to one of the photos.

he laughed, a sound that warmed the room. “yeah, that’s me. ibwasn’t that ugly, was i?” he teased, noticing your lingering gaze. “quite the opposite,” you said, sincerity in your voice. you were captivated by the innocence in the photo, a stark contrast to the composed young man beside you.

jimin picked up the photo you had been staring at, his fingers tracing the edges of the frame. a smile played on his lips, and his eyes softened with nostalgia. “simpler times,” he murmured, almost to himself. he carefully removed the photo from the frame and handed it to you. “take it,” he urged, his voice gentle yet firm.

“are you sure?” you asked, shocked by his gesture. he nodded, and your heart fluttered as you tucked the photo into your pocket. the sight of him as a baby made your heart swell with an unfamiliar warmth.

as you settled down to study, jimin began repeating the biological processes listed in the book, his voice rhythmic and soothing. despite his efforts, you couldn’t seem to focus, your mind wandering back to the earlier conversation. “what's wrong?” he asked, concern lacing his tone. “you mentioned having a lot on your plate,” you began hesitantly. “what did you mean by that?”

he sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “wait here,” he said, getting up and leaving the room. you waited, curiosity gnawing at you until he returned, a small bottle in his hand. “what’s that?” you asked, though you had a sinking feeling you already knew.

“antidepressants,” he answered, his voice calm. your eyes widened in surprise. “why do you have them?”

he lifted his sleeve, revealing his wrist where faint scars were healing. the sight of them stunned you, a sharp pain piercing your heart. the room seemed to hold its breath, the silence heavy and poignant. “i went through a tough time last year,” he explained, his voice steady but soft. “no one was willing to help. i was suffocating and couldn’t find a way out.”

he paused, a smile tugging at his lips despite the weight of his words. “i’ve never told anyone that before.”

you stared at his scars, your fingers tracing them gently. tears welled up in your eyes, the raw vulnerability of the moment overwhelming you. he noticed, brushing away a stray tear with his thumb. “hey,” he said softly, his touch tender. “i didn’t show you this so you could cry.”

“i’m just—i’m so glad you’re still here,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. his hand cupped your cheek, and in that moment of sheer vulnerability, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. the kiss shocked you at first, but you kissed back, the intensity of the moment deepening. it was a kiss filled with all the unspoken words, the shared pain, and the unvoiced longing.

his arms wrapped around you, and he gently picked you up, carrying you to his bed. the kiss grew more intense, each touch a promise, each breath a declaration. as he laid you down, his eyes held yours, a silent vow of understanding and acceptance. in the quiet sanctuary of his room, you both found solace in each other, a moment of purity and connection amidst the chaos of your lives. the world outside ceased to exist, and for those precious moments, it was just you and him.

his hands began to explore your body, his touch light and reverent. jimin had always been attentive, but now there was something different, something more profound. you felt your heart racing, your skin tingling with every caress. your body responded to his, eager to know him in every way possible. he noticed your nervousness and took his time, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, reassuring you that he would be gentle.

his lips trailed down your neck, and you felt your breath hitch. you’d never been with anyone before, but in that moment, you knew that this was right. he had become so much more than just a friend—he was the one who had seen through your walls, who had accepted you at your worst, and now he was the one you wanted to give yourself to completely. it made you wonder, what was it exactly that you were feeling? was it the sheer vulnerability taking action, or was it the feeling you had spent nineteen years believing to be nothing more than a mere illusion.

as he entered you, you knew what you were feeling wasn't an illusion. you felt a brief flash of pain, but his tender kisses and soothing whispers helped ease the discomfort. the pain soon gave way to pleasure, and you found yourself lost in the rhythm of his movements. your bodies melded together as one, the intimacy of the act leaving you feeling both vulnerable and empowered.

in the aftermath, you lay in his arms, the warmth of his embrace seeping into your very soul. his heartbeat was the only sound in the room, a steady rhythm that seemed to echo your own. his guilt still lingered, but in that moment, it was overshadowed by the raw emotion that filled the space between you. jimin had never meant for it to go this far, never meant to catch feelings for someone he was supposed to use as a means to an end. but as he held you, feeling your heart beating against his chest, he knew he could never go back to seeing you as just a bet. the lines had blurred, and now, he was just as invested in this as you were. the realization was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. but for now, he pushed it aside, choosing to focus on the warmth of your embrace and the sweet taste of your lips.

in the soft glow of the afternoon sun streaming through jimin's window, the world seemed to hold its breath. your heart raced as you lay beside him, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you both. the quiet hum of the house served as a gentle reminder of the sanctuary you found within each other's company. he turned to you, his eyes searching yours with a blend of curiosity and tenderness. “why did you give yourself to me if you don’t believe in love?” his voice was soft, barely above a whisper, yet it held the weight of a thousand unasked questions. the realization of what had transpired began to settle in, and you felt a mixture of vulnerability and courage. you looked into his eyes, the words forming slowly on your lips.

“i was tempted,” you whispered, the truth of it resonating in the quiet space between you. a small, almost shy smile played on his lips. “what exactly was it that tempted you?” he asked, his gaze unwavering.

you reached out, your fingers tracing the faint scars on his wrist with a delicate touch. there was something profound in the simplicity of the gesture, a silent acknowledgment of his pain and resilience. “you,” you said, your voice steady as you met his eyes. “you tempted me.”

his smile widened, a mixture of relief and affection lighting up his features. he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a tender caress. the vulnerability in his gaze mirrored your own, and in that moment, you felt an unspoken understanding pass between you. “thank you,” he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude and something deeper, something you couldn't quite name. you smiled back, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “for what?”

“for seeing me,” he replied, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “for accepting me, scars and all.” the raw honesty of his words touched you deeply, and you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. the two of you lay there, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. the world outside continued its relentless pace, but in the quiet sanctuary of his room, time seemed to slow down. the connection you shared felt sacred, a beautiful intertwining of souls that defied the chaos of life.

the morning sun filtered through the lace curtains of jimin’s room, casting delicate patterns on the walls. he woke up alone, the previous night's warmth lingering faintly in the air. the house was quiet, save for the occasional clink of dishes from the kitchen downstairs. he stretched, feeling a strange mixture of peace and anticipation.

as he descended the grand staircase, his mother looked up from her cup of tea, a smile of relief softening her features. “good morning, jimin. when are we going to see sua again? it feels like ages since she’s been over.” he paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face before he sighed. “actually, mom, i broke up with sua.”

his mother’s eyes widened in surprise. “you what? why on earth would you do that?” he took a deep breath, his heart pounding as he faced the inevitable. “i fell in love with someone else.”

his mother’s shock deepened, her teacup almost slipping from her grasp. “is it that girl you were studying with yesterday?” a gentle smile tugged at his lips as he nodded. “yes, it is.”

his mother opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, his father, who had been silently observing from his chair, spoke up. “why don’t you invite her over for dinner? we’d like to meet her.” his mother turned to him, aghast. “are you serious?” his father nodded, his expression calm and composed. “i am. i trust our son’s judgment.”

at school, the memory of the previous night played over and over in your mind as you recounted everything to jisoo. her eyes grew wider with each word, and she let out a shriek that drew the attention of everyone around. “you need to keep it to yourself,” you hissed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

she was stunned, her eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and excitement. “i warned you,” she said, hitting you lightly on the arm. before you could respond, a familiar voice interrupted. “warned her about what?”

you both turned to see jimin approaching, a playful smile on his lips. jisoo quickly brushed it off, trying to act casual. he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. you pushed him back, whispering urgently, “people are staring,” he chuckled. “so what?”

“you should be embarrassed to be seen with the hostess’s daughter,” you muttered, trying to step away. but he only pulled you in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. he waved at taehyung, who was standing nearby, his jaw practically on the floor. jimin took your hand and waved it at taehyung, much to your mortification.

“are you crazy?” you hissed, trying to pull your hand back. he laughed, the sound light and carefree. “i have good news,” he said, his tone suddenly serious.

“what is it?” you asked, curiosity piqued. “my parents want to have dinner with you,” he said, pausing to gauge your reaction. “are you okay with that?”

jisoo’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, and you felt your own heart skip a beat. stunned and flustered, you nodded hesitantly. “i’d be honored.” jimin smiled, his eyes softening as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. the world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you.

that evening, as you stood before your wardrobe, your hands trembled with anticipation. your mother was out, so you indulged in exploring your options without interruption. fabrics of varying textures and colors slipped through your fingers as you considered each dress. you finally settled on an elegant white dress, its fabric smooth and cool against your skin. the intricate lace detailing along the neckline and hem added a touch of sophistication. you paired it with delicate pearl earrings and a simple bracelet, hoping to make a good impression.

once ready, you instructed your driver to take you to the park manor. the drive seemed both endless and fleeting, the passing scenery a blur of colors as your heart raced. upon arrival, jimin welcomed you with a warm hug, his embrace steadying your nerves. he led you inside where his parents awaited.

his mother’s eyes widened as she took in your appearance. “you’re even prettier than i anticipated,” she remarked, a smile playing on her lips. his father, however, remained silent, his gaze fixed on you with an unreadable expression. his stomach seemed to sink as he observed you, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. jimin's sister approached you, her eyes lighting up as she hugged you. “you look like a doll!” she exclaimed, admiring your handbag.

jimin beamed at their reactions, but his father’s silence lingered in his mind, casting a shadow over the otherwise warm reception. you were guided to the dining room, where a beautifully set table awaited. the soft glow of candles and the elegant tableware created a welcoming atmosphere. you couldn’t help but compliment the decor.

“thank you,” jimin’s mother replied, her smile genuine. she opened a bottle of wine, the soft pop of the cork punctuating the air. “would you like a glass?”

you declined politely. “oh, no, ma'am. i don’t drink.” her eyes sparkled with pleasant surprise, but she insisted, “it’s a special occasion.” she poured you a glass despite your initial refusal, placing it gently in front of you. as the meal began, the conversation flowed smoothly, filled with lighthearted anecdotes and laughter. the atmosphere was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the tension you had felt earlier. however, a shift occurred when jimin’s sister suddenly turned to you, her brow furrowed slightly.

“i just realized, we never got your name,” she said, curiosity in her voice. you smiled apologetically, feeling slightly embarrassed. “i’m sorry, my name is (y/n) (l/n).”

a heavy silence fell over the table, the warmth dissipating in an instant. his mother’s friendly expression quickly vanished, replaced by one of shock. she repeated your last name, her voice barely a whisper. “you’re the daughter of the woman who owns the hostess club,” she stated, her tone now cold and distant. you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you struggled to find your voice. “yes, but my mother is no longer a part of it,” you managed to say, your voice trembling.

his father’s face had turned pale, his eyes wide with disbelief. jimin’s gaze flicked between you and his parents, confusion and curiosity etched on his features. the glass in his mother’s hand suddenly shattered, wine spilling across the table as shards of glass dug into her skin. “get out of my house,” her tone was cold, her voice trembling with rage and horror. “never show your face here again.” you were stunned, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to comprehend what had just happened. jimin stood abruptly, his fist slamming into the table. “what is your problem?” he demanded, his voice shaking with anger.

his mother scoffed, her hand bleeding as she slammed the remaining shards of glass into the table. “don’t you know?” she spat, tears streaming down her cheeks. “don’t you know that your father was her mother’s favorite guest? your father and kang sua’s father?” she paused, her gaze piercing through you. “she tempted them. it’s in their blood.”

the weight of her words hit you like a physical blow. shocked and humiliated, tears streamed down your face as you stammered an apology before fleeing the room. the world outside was a blur of darkness and cold, the warmth and light of the manor replaced by the harsh reality of your situation. as you ran, the tears continued to flow, each step feeling heavier than the last.

the night air was cold against your skin as you ran, tears blurring your vision. humiliation and shame burned hot in your chest, mingling with a fierce, simmering anger. the echo of his mother’s words reverberated in your mind, each repetition deepening the wound. you burst through your front door, sobbing uncontrollably. your mother, who had been reading in the living room, rushed to your side, her face etched with concern. “what happened?” she asked, her voice soft with worry.

you tried to push her away, the sight of your once pristine dress now stained with wine and blood adding fuel to your anger. “it’s all your fault,” you spat, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. she recoiled, her eyes wide with shock. “what do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“everything!” you screamed, your voice raw. “dad leaving, the humiliation, all of it. it’s all because of you.” you sank to your knees, the overwhelming weight of your emotions pressing down on you. tears streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed, each breath a struggle. your mother, tears in her own eyes, knelt beside you. despite your protests, she wrapped her arms around you, her embrace warm and comforting.

“i know,” she whispered, her voice filled with sorrow. “i know you hate me, and no apology in the world will make up for me being the worst mother.” you fought against her hold at first, but your strength soon gave out. you clung to her shirt, your sobs gradually quieting. her presence, once a source of anger, now provided a strange comfort. she held you tightly, her tears mixing with yours as she whispered soothing words.

the house was silent except for the sound of your breathing and the occasional sniffle. the warmth of your mother’s embrace began to melt the ice around your heart, if only slightly. you were still angry, still hurt, but in that moment, you allowed yourself to be held. the weight of the evening’s events slowly began to lift, replaced by an overwhelming exhaustion. as your cries died down, you remained clinging to her shirt, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest. for the first time in a long while, you felt a small semblance of peace. it wasn’t forgiveness, not yet, but it was a start. and in the quiet of the night, held in your mother’s arms, you found a glimmer of hope.

the tension in the room was palpable after you fled, leaving an echoing silence that seemed to suffocate the air. jimin’s mother, her hand bleeding and her eyes filled with a mixture of rage and pain, finally broke the silence. her voice was calm, but there was a steely edge to it that brooked no argument. “jimin,” she said, “you will never see that girl again.”

jimin, still standing, fists clenched in fury, shook his head vehemently. “no,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “she has nothing to do with her mother’s affairs.” he paused, his gaze shifting to his father, who sat with his head bowed in shame. “or your affairs.”

his mother’s face twisted with anger. she slammed her hand down on the table, causing the silverware to clatter. “see her again then,” she spat. “try your luck.” the room was charged with an almost tangible electricity. her face was a mask of cold determination, her eyes burning with a fierce intensity. she paused, her voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “see her again, and i promise you she’ll disappear.”

his heart pounded in his chest. he felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under him, leaving him adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions. anger, fear, and a desperate need to protect you all warred within him. he knew he couldn’t let his mother’s threats go unanswered, but the sheer intensity of her hatred left him momentarily speechless. the dinner table fell silent once more, the only sound the ticking of the antique clock in the hallway. jimin turned and left the room, his heart heavy with a mix of determination and dread. he knew the battle was far from over, but he also knew that he couldn’t give up on you. not now, not ever.

the morning at school was cloaked in an oppressive tension, and the air seemed to thrum with unspoken words and hidden resentments. jimin, with a determined stride, marched through the crowded hallway, his eyes fixed on sua. as he approached her, the sea of students parted, sensing the gravity of the confrontation about to unfold.

her eyes flickered with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. “giving up already?” she asked, her voice dripping with condescension. jimin’s face was a mask of unyielding resolve. “the game is over,” he said abruptly, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding.

she raised an eyebrow, her expression one of intrigued disbelief. “what do you mean?” he took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. “i’ve fallen in love with her,” he declared, his voice firm despite the weight of his words.

her eyes widened in shock, and then a cruel smile curved her lips. “you must be joking,” she said, her tone icy with contempt. he shook his head, a mix of sadness and resolve in his eyes. “i’m not. i’m sorry, sua.” without another word, her hand lashed out, the sting of the slap echoing through the hallway. jimin flinched, but his eyes remained locked on hers, a silent defiance in their depths. shw turned on her heel, her gaze cold and unfeeling as she walked away, her heels clicking ominously on the polished floor.

as she disappeared into the bathroom, you were making your way down the corridor, lost in your own thoughts. the bathroom door swung open with a sharp creak, and her presence was like a storm cloud. she spotted you at the sink, and her gaze hardened as she approached. you met her gaze in the mirror, your heart sinking. “what do you want?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter of anxiety in your chest.

her expression twisted into a mask of venomous disdain. “you’ve tempted him,” she said, her voice dripping with malice. she paused, letting her words sink in before adding, “you really are just like your mother.”

in the midst of your panic, her voice cut through the noise once more. “you really thought this was real?” she sneered, her tone dripping with contempt. “you were just a bet. jimin was a part of it from the beginning.” the revelation hit you like a physical blow, your breath catching as you gasped for air. through the blur of water and your own tears, you barely made out her words.

“he was never serious,” she continued, her expression a cruel mix of satisfaction and pity. “it was all just a game to him, a way to amuse himself. and you were just another pawn.” the words echoed in your mind, mingling with the sting of the cold water and the pressure of her hands. the reality of the betrayal was a crushing weight, adding to the turmoil you already felt.

before you could react, her hand clamped onto your hair, her grip like a vice. panic surged through you as she yanked you towards the sink. the cold, unforgiving porcelain met your face as she dunked you, the water gushing forth with a harsh, relentless force. you flailed, gasping for air as the water swirled around you, filling your senses with its icy, suffocating embrace. your mind whirled with disjointed memories from your old school, fragments of humiliation and fear blending with the present moment. the world around you blurred as your vision darkened, the water pressing against your face like a heavy, smothering shroud.

just as you felt yourself slipping into darkness, a powerful force yanked her away. the sudden release was disorienting, and you coughed, spluttering as you gasped for breath. as you tried to steady yourself, the chaos around you began to coalesce into clarity. turning your head, you saw jisoo standing in the doorway, her face a mask of fury and concern. “get lost,” she commanded, her voice a fierce, protective roar.

sua, caught off guard, hesitated before retreating, her expression one of anger and frustration. as she stormed out of the bathroom, the door slammed behind her, leaving you and jisoo in the wake of the confrontation. she hurried to your side, her arms enveloping you in a comforting embrace. you clung to her, tears streaming down your face as you trembled with shock and fear. “it’s gonna be okay,” she whispered, her voice soothing and steady. “i’m here. you’re safe now.” the warmth of her embrace was a stark contrast to the cold, harsh reality of what had just transpired. as you allowed yourself to cry, the sobs wracking your body, her presence was a balm to your wounded spirit. her hands gently stroked your back, her voice a constant reassurance that you weren’t alone.

as you left the school, the heavy weight of the day seemed to press down upon you. the hallway, once bustling with the casual chatter of students, now felt hollow and distant. your footsteps echoed in the quiet, a rhythmic reminder of the chaos that had just unfolded. as you approached the gates, your phone buzzed sharply, breaking the silence of your troubled thoughts. you glanced at the screen, seeing jimin’s name flash across it. an inexplicable mix of apprehension and curiosity gripped you. you hesitated for a moment before answering, your breath catching as you said, “hello?”

to your surprise, it was not jimin’s voice but his mother’s that greeted you. her tone was clear and authoritative, though tinged with an undertone of cold detachment. “hello,” she began, “i need you to come to the manor immediately.” your heart raced at the urgency in her voice. “is everything alright?” you asked, your concern mingling with anxiety.

“good,” she replied crisply. “it’s in your best interest to come now.” before you could respond, the call ended abruptly. a surge of unease propelled you to the park manor, your mind a whirl of worry and confusion. the grandiose estate loomed before you, its imposing structure now a place of dread rather than comfort. as you approached the front door, you noticed the serene beauty of the manor felt jarringly out of place with the turmoil inside.

you were greeted at the door by three figures: his mother, his father, and his sister. none of them were jimin. the air in the room was thick with tension, and his mother wasted no time in addressing you. “sit down,” she said, her voice firm and unyielding.

you took a seat, your heart pounding in your chest. his mother continued, her gaze cold and unyielding. “you are to cease all contact with my son,” she said, her words slicing through the air with chilling clarity. tears welled up in your eyes as you fought to maintain your composure. “i have nothing to do with my mother’s affairs,” you said, your voice trembling. “i love jimin.” your own declaration took you by surprise, the depth of your feelings for jimin crystallizing in that moment. his sister, standing to the side, regarded you with a sympathetic expression, her eyes softening.

his mother, however, remained resolute. “you have two choices,” she said, her voice unwavering. “you can stop seeing him immediately and remain in korea, or you can continue seeing him for the next two weeks and allow me to send you wherever i deem necessary.” the weight of her words settled heavily upon you. you knew what was at stake—your future, your freedom, and your relationship with him. the thought of losing him was unbearable, and with a steely resolve, you made your choice.

“the second option,” you said, your voice steady despite the fear that gripped you. a glimmer of approval flickered in his mother’s eyes. “very well,” she said. “time is ticking. he’s in his room. go to him now.”

you rushed through the opulent corridors of the manor, your heart racing with each step. the grandeur of the house, usually so comforting, now seemed to close in around you, intensifying your anxiety. you reached his door and hesitated for a brief moment before knocking softly. the door swung open, and there stood jimin, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and hope. without a word, you threw yourself into his arms, your tears flowing freely. his embrace was warm and reassuring, and you could feel his body trembling slightly as he held you close.

“i’m here,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “i’m so sorry for everything.” you clung to him, your own tears mingling with his. the shared pain and the depth of your connection were palpable in that moment. his room, usually a place of calm and order, became a sanctuary of shared grief and solace.

he pulled back slightly, his eyes red and shimmering with emotion. “sua told you, didn’t she?” his voice was a soft murmur, each word heavy with regret and sadness. you nodded, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. “she did,” you managed to reply, your voice barely a whisper. the betrayal of her revelation stung, but you were determined not to let it overshadow the fragile moments you had left with him. you needed to hold on to whatever you could before it was too late.

hia face was a canvas of conflicting emotions as tears slipped down his cheeks. “it’s true,” he admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession. “everything she said was true. the bet, the game—everything.”

your heart ached as he spoke, but you refused to let the hurt cloud the remaining time you had with him. you reached up to touch his face, wiping away a tear that had escaped down his cheek. “but,” you said softly, “every word and every embrace we shared—they were real to me. were they real to you too?” he nodded, his gaze unwavering as he took your hand in his. “yes,” he said, his voice firm despite the tears. “every word, every touch—it was all real. i fell for you, truly. even if the beginning was under false pretenses, what i felt for you was genuine.”

you offered him a small, bittersweet smile, trying to keep the pain from overwhelming you. “did i tempt you?” you asked gently, your eyes searching his for the truth. he shook his head, a look of profound sincerity in his eyes. “no,” he said softly. “it wasn’t temptation. it was love.” the sincerity in his words was like a balm to your wounded heart. despite the betrayal and the broken trust, his confession was a glimmer of truth amidst the wreckage. the knowledge that his feelings for you were genuine, even if the circumstances were tainted, offered a fragile hope.

the moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery sheen over the tennis court as sua stood alone, her figure a stark silhouette against the backdrop of darkness. the once pristine surface, now marked with scattered tennis balls, bore silent witness to her anguish. she moved with a frantic energy, her serve wild and uncoordinated, her tears mingling with the sweat on her face.

her tennis racket flew through the air with each forceful swing, connecting with the balls only to send them careening off into the corners of the court. each miss was a blow to her heart, a physical manifestation of her internal turmoil. the rhythmic thud of the racket meeting the ball echoed through the still night, a harsh reminder of the chaos that churned within her.

with every serve, she attempted to expel the weight of her pain and betrayal. one ball flew off her racket for her father's broken promises, his failure to protect her from the harsh realities of their world. another, driven with greater force, was aimed at jimin’s rejection, his love once desired now an elusive fantasy. the final ball was a direct hit aimed at you, the one who had stolen the affections of the boy she had coveted, the one who had inadvertently exposed her vulnerabilities.

her once graceful movements became erratic, her strokes heavy and labored. she continued to hit ball after ball, her frustration mounting with each missed shot. tears streamed down her cheeks, mingling with the sweat that glistened under the moonlight. the court was littered with tennis balls, each one a testament to her emotional struggle and the unanswered questions that plagued her.

finally, she collapsed onto the ground, her racket falling from her grasp. It lay beside her, its handle resting against the cold surface of the court. her sobs were uncontrollable now, her body shaking with each cry as she lay on the ground. the silence of the night was broken only by her heart-wrenching pleas. “why not me?” she cried out, her voice raw and desperate. the words echoed through the empty court, a stark contrast to the usually cheerful sound of tennis matches. she looked up at the sky, her tears reflecting the pale light of the moon.

the next two weeks passed in a bittersweet blur, a fragile sanctuary carved out of time amidst the chaos of looming departure. each day with jimin was a delicate dance of stolen moments and fleeting joys. your days were filled with long walks through serene gardens, the crisp air carrying laughter and conversation. evenings were spent in cozy corners of his favorite cafes, where you shared whispered dreams over cups of steaming coffee.

his presence was a balm, soothing the sting of impending separation. his touch was gentle, his smile a constant source of comfort. together, you explored hidden spots in the city, places that seemed to come alive under his animated descriptions. each shared glance and playful banter deepened the bond between you, weaving a tapestry of intimacy and understanding.

the nights were no less tender. you would sit side by side, wrapped in soft blankets, as he recounted stories of his childhood. the light from the flickering fireplace cast a warm glow on his face, making the shadows dance in rhythm with the stories he told. he showed you his favorite spots in his home, each room steeped in memories that he now shared with you. the time together was a precious interlude, a sanctuary from the world’s harshness.

on the eve of your departure, the weight of impending separation hung heavy in the air. jimin had arranged a special evening, unaware of what was to come, filled with your favorite music and a candlelit dinner prepared with care. the atmosphere was serene, the soft glow of the candles flickering against the walls, creating an intimate cocoon around the two of you.

as the night wore on, his eyes held a glimmer of anticipation. he finally spoke, breaking the gentle silence that had settled between you. “i have a gift for you,” he said, his voice soft yet filled with warmth. his fingers reached into his pocket, retrieving a small, intricately crafted dreamcatcher. its delicate threads shimmered in the candlelight, adorned with tiny beads and feathers that swayed gently as he held it out to you.

you accepted the gift with a sense of wonder, your eyes tracing the intricate patterns of the dreamcatcher. “what's this for?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “it filters out all the nightmares,” he replied, his smile tender as he watched you. “i want you to have it, so you’ll always have sweet dreams, even when i’m not around.”

you wrapped your fingers around the dreamcatcher, feeling its cool, smooth surface against your skin. moved by the gesture, you pulled him into a tight embrace, holding him close. the warmth of his body against yours was a comfort you wished could last forever. “i love you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly as he pulled back to look into your eyes. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

the words, so earnest and sincere, made your heart swell with emotion. “i love you too,” you responded, your voice filled with a mix of affection and sorrow. “i want that too.” he kissed you then, a tender, lingering kiss that spoke of promises and dreams yet to be fulfilled. the kiss was a silent vow, a declaration of the love that bound you together despite the challenges ahead.

after he left, the weight of the moment settled heavily upon you. you closed the door behind him, the silence of the room amplifying the ache in your chest. the dreamcatcher, now held close to your heart, seemed to pulse with the memories of the past weeks. as the door clicked shut, the realization of the imminent departure hit you with full force. you sank to your knees on the floor, the tears that had been held back finally breaking free. they flowed unchecked, each sob a release of the grief and the bittersweet joy of the moments shared with him. the dreamcatcher lay beside you, its delicate threads shimmering softly in the dim light, a poignant reminder of the love you would leave behind.

the room was filled with the soft rustle of the dreamcatcher’s feathers, a hauntingly beautiful sound that seemed to echo your sorrow. as you clutched the dreamcatcher tightly, you felt the full weight of the separation, the loss of the future you had hoped for. the love that had blossomed in such a short time now seemed both a blessing and a cruel reminder of the distance that would soon separate you.

the following day dawned with an unsettling quiet. your absence was a stark void in the school corridors, a missing presence that jimin immediately noticed. as he walked past your empty seat, his heart sank. his gaze darted around the classroom, hoping to catch sight of you, but the seat beside him remained conspicuously vacant.

unable to quell the growing sense of worry, he approached jisoo, his voice laced with concern. “where is she?” he asked urgently, his eyes searching hers for answers. jisoo, her expression a mask of indifference, shrugged dismissively. “i don’t know. she hasn’t been here all day.”

the coldness in her tone stung, but he barely registered it. his anxiety mounted as he turned to sua, who observed him with a stony face, her eyes betraying nothing. his heart raced as he called your number, only to be met with the disheartening message that the line was deactivated. panic surged through him, propelling him to sprint out of the school, his mind a maelstrom of dread and confusion.

he arrived at your house, breathless and desperate, only to find the place eerily silent and empty. the front door, once a welcoming entrance, now seemed like a barrier to the answers he sought. the sight of the “for sale” sign in the yard was a cruel twist of the knife. jimin turned to the neighbor, who was tending to her garden. his voice trembled with urgency. “do you know where they went? please, i need to find them.”

the neighbor looked up, a frown forming on her face. “didn’t you know?” she asked, her voice tinged with surprise. “they moved out last night.”

the words hit him like a physical blow. the weight of the revelation crashed over him, a suffocating wave of despair. he turned and ran back to his manor, his heart pounding in his chest, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. bursting through the front door, his eyes sought out his mother, who was seated at the dining table, seemingly calm and composed. “where is she?” he demanded, his voice strained. “where did you send her?”

his mother’s gaze was steady, though her eyes carried an edge of disdain. “she’s far away,” she replied coolly, her tone dismissive. the finality of her words shattered something within him. tears sprang to his eyes, blurring his vision. overwhelmed by grief and frustration, he slammed his fist into the table, the sound echoing through the quiet house. “where? where did you send her?” he cried, his voice cracking with desperation.

his mother’s face softened for a moment, but she remained resolute. “take your pills,” she said firmly, rising from her seat.

as she left the room, jimin sank to his knees, his body trembling with the weight of his anguish. the room seemed to close in on him, the walls echoing the hollow ache in his chest. his sister entered, her eyes filled with concern and sympathy. without a word, she knelt beside him and pulled him into a tight embrace. jimin clung to her, his sobs wracking his body. between gasps of air, he managed to confess the depth of his feelings. “i love her,” he choked out. “i love her so much.”

his sister’s voice was soft and laced with tears as she whispered, “she’s in gangnam.”

the word resonated through him like a beacon of hope amidst the storm of his despair. he pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes wide with renewed determination. “gangnam?” he repeated, his voice almost a whisper. she nodded, her tears mingling with his. “yes. she’s there. you need to go now.” the realization that you were still within reach, albeit at a distance, ignited a spark of resolve in him.

you and your mother had arrived in gangnam late into the night, the city's vibrant lights casting a melancholic glow on your new surroundings. the apartment, though modest compared to the grandeur of your previous residence, was a refuge from the turmoil that had pursued you. your mother’s apologies were a constant murmur, her voice thick with regret and sorrow. she fretted over every detail, her guilt apparent in every word she spoke.

“it’s all my fault,” she repeated, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. “i should never have put you through this.” you placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to offer comfort despite your own swirling emotions. “it’s going to be okay, mom,” you reassured her, though you felt far from certain. “we’ll make this work. it’s a new beginning.”

after some time, you decided to step out and clear your mind. the streets of gangnam were a vibrant tapestry of neon lights and bustling activity. as you wandered through the city, you found yourself drawn towards the beach, a place that had once held significant memories.

the soft, salty breeze greeted you as you reached the shore. the waves lapped gently at the sand, a rhythm that mirrored the bittersweet cadence of your own heart. you sank onto the sand, recalling the day you had spent with jimin at the beach. the laughter you shared, the warmth of his hand in yours, the promises whispered beneath the starlit sky—all these memories surged back, flooding your senses with an ache that was both beautiful and devastating.

tears sprang to your eyes, blurring your vision as you looked out at the horizon. the sea, with its endless expanse, felt like a reflection of your own feelings—vast, deep, and profoundly complex. you had left everything behind because you were tempted. no, not merely tempted—you were in love. you had felt as beautiful and infinite as the sea itself.

a voice cut through your reverie, startling you. “i knew i’d find you here.”

the words were soft but unmistakable. You froze, unable to believe what you were hearing. slowly, you turned around, and there he was. the sight of him brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. he was here, but there was an undeniable distance between you, an invisible barrier that seemed almost insurmountable.

he took a few steps toward you, his expression a mix of hurt and frustration. “how could you not tell me?” he asked, his voice cracking with emotion. “how could you just leave me like that?”

you shook your head, the tears flowing freely now. “i had no choice,” you said softly, your voice breaking. “it was either leave or risk everything.”

jimin’s eyes softened, his concern etched deeply on his face. “but you didn’t have to do it alone,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. “you should have let me be part of it.”

you backed away slightly, feeling the weight of his presence and the danger it posed. “you have to go home,” you said urgently. “you can’t be seen with me. it’s not safe.” but he closed the distance between you, his determination unwavering. he reached out and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. the warmth of his embrace was like a balm to your wounded soul. you could feel his tears mingling with yours as he buried his face in your hair, his emotions raw and palpable.

“you need to come home,” he murmured through his tears. “you don’t have to face this alone. no matter what, we can figure it out together.”

you shook your head against his shoulder, the reality of your situation weighing heavily on you. “i can’t,” you whispered, feeling the hopelessness of the situation. “i don’t have anywhere else to go.” jimin gently wiped away your tears with his thumb, his own face streaked with sadness. “no one can do anything as long as you have me,” he said firmly, his voice full of conviction. “i love you. and that’s all that matters.”

you looked up at him, your heart aching with the depth of your feelings. “i love you too,” you replied, your voice trembling. the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle roar of the ocean and the steady you had found something you had once thought hadn't existed. “i never believed it existed,” you whispered, the words carrying the weight of your newfound understanding. “i didn’t think i could find something like this.”

jimin’s eyes, filled with an earnest intensity, met yours. “it’s real,” he assured you softly. “we found it together.”

✧.*

a/n: this one was a doozy

62 notes · View notes

bangtangalicious · 1 year ago

Text

nexus (m) part 4

pairing: ot7 x f-reader | smut: jimin x reader, jungkook x reader

premise: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest

summary: the murder of your best friend prompts you to team up with a vengeful detective to navigate a web of lies, betrayals and love. trust no one. people are never who they seem, and the most horrid one of all might just be the one you love most

characters: detective!jungkook, ex/bartender!yoongi, bestfriend!seokjin, ceo!namjoon, fiancee!taehyung, model!hoseok, therapist!jimin

genre: 18+ smut slow burn angst romance thriller mystery eventual yandere casino!au organizedcrime/mafia!au arrangedmarriage!au revenge!au

wordcount: 8.8k

warnings: multiple & explicit smut scenes, proceed with caution. public sex, dirty dancing hehe, breast play, degradation kink, some hand stuff, fingering, dubious consent, somnophilia, rough sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, obsessive, possessive, manipulative behavior & themes, allusions to gambling addiction, implied stalking behavior, mentions of psychiatric facilities, implied sexual trauma, depiction of unethical therapy, physical violence (jk beats jimin up woo), slight slut shaming, gaslighting, alcohol use, partying, themes of social class resentment, but! also! love confessions! kissing! and! reunions! but lots of angst

taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog @gaeguuliii @dvalitaes @satorinnie @fournia @kassandravictoria @jazmine2904 @marslena @iloverubberduckiez-blog @manchuria @btseverafter7 @jamlessstars @doublebunnykoo @you-are-my-wind @toughbook @mini-euphoria-deactivated202302 @lvrseok @n4mina @imjinvolved @rp171198 @codeinebelle @itsallabouthedetails @btseverafter7 @just-me-and-myselfs @blonde-bummer @hcneybees @babycoffeefire @totallynoanalien @seokjinkismet @itslanaanditssad @rhyperia @sporadicfuryface @azazel-nyx @hani-neko-nee-chan (rest of tags on reblog)

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“Taehyung” The name left your lips in a shudder. Shut eyes quivering, entrapping you in your nightmare.

Miles away, Taehyung stared out the window. The rolling hills hinting at a familiarity. His head ached, he felt nauseous as the vibrations of Jungkook’s car hit his core. He didn’t want to see you—not that anyone would understand. He remembered you vividly—remembered his own infatuation with you. You were a shining idol in his eyes. Someone who he looked at in awe, like he did his eldest brother.

Years locked away can change one’s perception.

Years left alone can brew resentment.

You never came for him. He was certain you didn’t even try.

A grin tugged at his lips.

The name uttered from your lips had Jimin’s eyes shooting open. Woken up from a dream—the dream where you and him were forever, and he wasn’t pretending. A world where you loved him—Park Jimin.

Your body lay curled into itself. He couldn’t help but touch you—fingers drawn to the curve of your back. Trailing down softly. You were a troubled sleeper. He could see it in the way you flinched at his actions.

Pulling you into his warmth, he kissed the nape of your neck with a loving tenderness, ghosting up to your ear where he whispered your name sweetly.

Your name. The first words Seokjin ever said to him. He was the most complex patient he’d ever faced. One that brought meaning to his monotonous existence.

Jimin had been bored. Bored with his brilliant mind that allowed him to become a young doctor. Bored with his high profile patients who were all simply rotten with their first-world problems. He was losing his mind. Day in and day out—stuck within the four walls of his office. One brat in, another out.

Kim Seokjin was a special case. He had asked him simply—what’s on your mind?

You. You were on Jin’s mind.

It was tough to say if you had a leash on him, or he you. As Jin would ramble on about how he couldn’t rationalize his feelings for you, Jimin would bite back his smile, scribbling the word obsessed onto his notebook.

The irony.

It started as curiosity. Jimin had a reputation for being successful with all his patients, but it often required a hands on approach. In the corner of the casino, Jimin would observe you like an animal in the wild—you in your element. Throwing yourself at Jin’s elitist friends, while swindling them out of millions.

He watched you. Learned you. Studied you until he swore he could write a thesis.

And here you were.

Engaged. To be married. To be one.

Sighing deeply, he let his hand trail between your legs. Fingers prodding at your folds, smiling lazily at the way you’d twitch and shudder. Simply unphased. Deep in your sleep.

He let your wetness coat the sensitive pads of his fingers. Nose pressed against your neck, he inhaled, reveling in your scent as his fingers pushed in and out of your cunt.

The intrusion into your tight walls was slick. Yet you accepted him so well he simply had to add another. He still couldn’t believe he got to have you—got to cum inside you. Something he knew for a fact Jin never had the pleasure of doing.

Jin was an enigma and you were his doll. His plaything where he could easily manipulate your surroundings and puppet you without you realizing it. A fascinating man. Attached to you like a baby to a binkie. As if knowing you since birth gave him some right over your life.

Jin had cameras set up in your house, which he revealed in a delusional confession about how he was upset his younger brother had taken your virginity. Of course, Jimin already knew this. He hacked into them to watch you as well.

Jimin chuckled to himself. You were so naïve. Clueless. Didn’t know how badly you needed Jimin to save you. Jin was far more dangerous than Jimin could ever be.

Jimin was simply there to fill the hole in your heart. Ease the tension between your legs where he let his flushed tip prod. Cock heated with need, heavy with desire. He cursed, sliding his shaft through your folds slowly. Your body responding through subtle twitches. Cunt seeping at his touch.

His cock sunk inside you with ease, feeling you clench down violently at the intrusion. Your body shifting, coming alive, regaining consciousness, because here he was to save you from yourself. You knew not what forces bound you. Kept you from freedom. Jimin was here now. He would take care of everything, lest you worry your pretty little head.

He’d keep you safe. Away from the Kim brothers, away from the judgements of society. He would purify you. Wash out your sins with his cum, fuck you until you only knew pleasure in his name.

“Taehyung” Your lips parted, forehead furrowing as you realized your reality. He shushed you—you wouldn’t want to make him angry with that name, would you? Maybe one day he would tell you to call him Jimin. Under the guise of roleplay, or perhaps, if you had no escape.

“Good morning, princess” He could feel you shudder. He was so deep in your trenches you couldn’t move. Couldn’t run from him—his hands slipping over your breasts. Pinching at your nipples. He cooed at the warmth spreading to your cheeks. The way your eyes fluttered, euphoric in feeling. Wedging himself even further inside of you with a sharp thrust.

You yelped, a soft, gorgeous sound which he elicited with every move. Tight, rough—as he hooked your leg over his arm. The other wrapping generously around your neck. Your back arched against him, his teeth shadowing over your ear. Splashing into your waters, he rammed into you like a fever. Balls slapping against your ass, smacks echoing through the serene room. Tangled with the early morning sunrise.

He could easily lose himself in your sensation. How Jin time and time again passed up the chance, he knew not. The man had self-restraint, if nothing else. Your pussy squeezed the life out of him, making him want to give you everything he had and more. For what purpose was anything else? This is all he ever wanted—all he ever needed. Fucking into you just like this. He’d make you fall so in love you’d never want to leave. Exist pliant with his cock stuffing you as he pleased. His own princess. His virtue and his demise.

“Taehyung” Your voice muffled by lack of air. His hand so tight around your throat, constricting more when you uttered that damned name. “C-can’t breathe” You slapped his hand, as though signaling him to release you. Jimin chuckled, as if you had any say in this.

You were a puppet even before he came into your life. A puppet before he knew of your existence. Why should you ever be anything else? You didn’t know any better. Nevertheless he let you breathe, let you gasp for air because he wanted you to remember that he allowed it. He listened and he cared. Shoving you onto your stomach, he battered himself back onto you, ass cushioning his pistoning hips. You were a means to his end. He wanted to die buried inside you like this, so close to his edge his vision was red hot. The unsatisfying and addictive heat sprawling over his bare chest.

Teeth digging into his own lip, the best and worst sensation combined. He didn’t want the pleasure to stop, the tight, unwavering grip of your cunt as his cock hit you straight in your core. Over and over again, fusing your bodies together. Holding down your shoulders, keeping you in place as he pounded into you with fury.

He swore he’d never been so high in his life—no ecstasy could quite compare. The bed creaking underneath. The only sounds of your bodies clashing, your lips gasping and him—groaning deep as his cock twitched inside you. Swelling before everything snapped at once. Dozed over, cum spilling hot inside of you. He collapsed onto your back, spent for all his worth. Keeping himself nested in you even while he kissed your cheeks.

You slipped away from him, limp cock falling out as you reached for a robe. He admired the brief glimpse of his cum, sticky between your thighs.

“You awoke a beast in me” Jimin chuckled shyly, resuming his act as the whipped Kim Taehyung. “Couldn’t even help myself”

Jungkook gripped the wheel of his car with a ferocity that had his knuckles turning white. The tension in the car thick. In the rearview mirror he could see him. Kim Taehyung. The root cause of all the shit he’d ever faced. The rat that sold out his father and got him killed.

He could never forget. Never forget the eyes that watched in horror as his father was shot by an animal. Jungkook so badly wanted to blame him. To let out his anger and get his revenge on this bastard—but he couldn’t.

For your sake.

You were the centerpiece now. Caught in a web of whose design—Jungkook was still trying to figure out. Internally he battled his opportunity to avenge his father, with his duty to you as a Detective. You fucking little brat who he loathed and yet had an inexiplicable desire to shield you from all harm.

His foot lowered on the gas. Who knows what you were doing with this Park Jimin creep. Miles whizzed past as he sped up. What if you were hurt—what if he—

The Kim mansion was in sight. Jungkook parked the car, turning to face Taehyung with skepticism in his eyes. The boy had barely uttered a word in the car.

“Jimin could be armed and dangerous” Jungkook swallowed thickly, “I’ll go in first just to make sure, and I will bring Y/n to you. You guys wait here”

Taehyung looked down at his hands. He was playing with something in his palms. Finally looking up, Jungkook was taken aback.

The look in his eyes was dark. Almost terrifying.

He said nothing. After getting an uncertain nod from Yoongi, Jungkook stepped out. Making his way to the side entrance, hand glazed over the gun sheathed by his side. With a light nudge, the door opened—he stepped inside, muddy shoes staining the crystal clean marbled floor.

Silently, he slipped through the halls of the maze-like home. He could hear something—following the echoes into the kitchen. You were there. Alone. Bent over the sink while the microwave hummed behind you.

You were choking out. Gagging as if you would throw up. Only a flimsy silk robe holding you together.

Jungkook’s gut twisted.

You didn’t.

He couldn’t afford to scare you in the state you were in. If you screamed, Jimin would know he was here. Quietly, he treaded towards you, nearing until he was close enough to lick the sweat beading on the hollow of your neck.

In a swift movement, his fingers covered your mouth. You jumped in shock, eyes wide. “It’s me” Jungkook assured you as you writhed in his hold. He repeated himself until it sunk in, whispering “It’s just me. Don’t scream”

Backing away from him, you wiped your mouth on your sleeve.

“What are you doing here?” You whispered angrily.

Jungkook’s eyes dropped to the cleavage of your robe, splitting open more than you likely meant it to. The round edges of your breast vulnerable to his sight. Flustered, you tightened it around your body, ignoring the dark flash in his eyes.

Jungkook’s eyes still steady on your chest before snapping back to reality. He looked at you, serious, “Are you alright?” He glanced towards the sink which was empty. “Sick?”

You shrugged, brushing off his concern. “Why the fuck are you here, Jungkook?”

“Did you fuck him?” You made a face. Sighing, Jungkook explained. “He’s not Kim Taehyung. He’s an imposter”

“Oh I know”

Jungkook’s lips pursed. “You know?”

Chuckling lightly, your head turned as the microwave began to beep. Grabbing what seemed to be a muffin, you casually took a bite. Jungkook squinted as your teeth sunk into the pastry, crumbs dotting the edge of your lips.

“Sure. Taehyung had a mole, it wasn’t there. This guy has the tattoo—Taehyung wasn’t there when they got it. And he won’t answer any questions about where he’s been.” You spoke while chewing, “You know but the way I knew for sure was when he began fucking me while I was asleep”

Jungkook’s jaw tensed.

“What?” He searched your eyes. Is that why you were—he looked again towards the sink.

“Yeah” Your voice was curt. He seriously questioned if you were hurting more than you let on “Maybe you and I should try it sometime. Kinda hot”

Jungkook huffed, “That’s not—”

“What?” You grinned at him, batting your eyelashes. Moving in closer as your finger hooked into the collar of his shirt, tugging playfully “You don’t wanna? Me lying all helpless while you ram your big fucking cock in,”

“Y/n” Jungkook’s voice raised sternly as he pushed your hand away.

“That’s what all you guys want anyway, to bend me over like a little brainless cocksleeve” You tossed the half of your muffin into the trash with a tantrum-like attitude.

“Tell me where he is” Jungkook heard you, took note of the subtle bitterness in your tone and to talk to you about it later, but focused on the task at hand. “He might be Jin’s killer”

You nodded, gulping down your bite. “He’s upstairs, follow me”

You led Jungkook through the halls, up the grand winding staircase of the foyer. A large, glimmering chandelier hanging from the tall ceiling. So much excess wherever Jungkook looked.

This was normal for you—this was your status quo. Your silk robes and ignorance. You slept with a man who could have killed your best friend—knowingly. Jungkook tried his hardest yet he swore he couldn’t understand a thing about you.

And he’d never care to admit just how much of his headspace you consumed.

If Jimin had hurt you.

If he had taken advantage of you in someway.

Jungkook’s fists tightened.

Opening the double doors to what he could only assume to be your bedroom, Jimin sat on the bed, waiting expectantly.

“Park Jimin, you’re under arrest under suspicion for the murder of Kim Seokjin” Jungkook slid past you quickly before Jimin could try to escape. He didn’t move, allowing Jungkook to handcuff him without resistance. He simply stared at you, amusement in his eyes.

“Murder?” Jimin tilted his head, grinning “I didn’t murder him baby”

“Why would I believe a fucking word you say?” You spat at him. Jungkook watched as your eyes flashed with rage. “You lied to me. You pretended to be my Taehyung”

“You’re gonna regret this” His smile didn’t waver. “You’re gonna wish you played along like the good little doll you are. What, you think this is good for you? Oh baby, you just wait. Put me behind bars and you see what hell is going to come knocking at your door. Who’s going to look out for you hm? This fucker?” He nodded in Jungkook’s direction.

Jungkook ignored him, calling on his radio for backup. Pulling Jimin to stand, he dragged him out the door. Jimin dug his heels in, slowing him down.

He laughed, a dark sinister cackle. “I’m the only one who cares about you Y/n. You think Jeon Jungkook is going to help you—please,” Jungkook shot him a glare, “You don’t know what I know”

“That’s enough” Jungkook roughly pushed him forward. Suddenly he heard something shatter.

You had thrown a vase in Jimin’s direction.

“You crazy prick” Your teeth were gritting. As though this were your last straw, letting down the series of dominos do drive you over the edge. “I’m not a doll—I don’t need anyone, least of all a fucking psycho like you!”

“You love it baby” Jimin taunted, “You think Jin is any better? He allowed it, princess. This was all his doing. I was perfectly content watching the footage he’d send me of the cameras he set up in your room—”

You lunged towards him, but Jungkook stepped in your path. Hands gripping your waist, holding you back. Touch gentle, but firm.

“Y/n” Jungkook whispered, “Easy”

“Let me fucking at him. I’ll show him”

“I know” Jungkook stood, pushing back as you tried to resist him, “Let me take him in okay. He’s gonna get what he deserves. Go grab something to wear” Jungkook urged, “Meet me downstairs, yeah?”

You frowned slightly, before ultimately agreeing. Jungkook exhaled, turning back to a thoroughly entertained Jimin. He swung a punch straight into his gut, causing Jimin to buckle over. Immediately then grabbing his neck, choking him as he lifted him onto his toes.

“That’s for Y/n” Jungkook hissed, “Psycho” Jimin squirmed in his hold, but Jungkook simply tightened his fingers. Jimin’s smile grew.

“As if you wouldn’t have done the same, Detective. Like father like son”

Jungkook tossed him across the room. Crashing into the wall, Jimin let out a pained grunt. The officers had arrived. He left Jimin on the floor, knowing he’d have nowhere to run.

Downstairs you waited, a baggy shirt and sweats which likely belonged to one of the brothers. Jungkook was reminded suddenly of who was waiting in his car. Police officers rushed passed him, grabbing Jimin and escorting him out. Jungkook took you and followed, watching as they drove off with him, twisted smile steady throughout it all.

“You good?” Jungkook asked again, voice barely above a whisper. His fingers brushing against your palm as if to nudge you. The sirens screamed loud in the distance. From the corner of his eye, he could see you take a deep breath.

He hated that he noticed. The way you fought to stay afloat through it all. He much preferred his own cowardly ignorance, where you were not someone he’d destroy in his quest, but rather righteous, deserving collateral.

Reality kicked in. Taehyung was waiting to see you in the car. He wondered if maybe throwing that on you now in the state you were would be unwise.

Maybe he just didn’t want you to meet Taehyung. He wanted to talk to you. Ask about what you said before, make sure you were really alright.

Unfortunately for him, the choice was robbed.

“Namjoon?”

The look in your eyes made Namjoon’s heart crumble. You looked so hurt. So betrayed.

Namjoon looked between you at the man by your side—vaguely familiar. He glanced as his badge to see Detective Jeon roughly inscribed.

“Bold of you to show up here” The detective muttered; arms crossed over his chest.

“Hobi said you called so I came”

It was a poor excuse. Just like when his mother died, again he had ignored your needs. Disappearing wordlessly, abandoning you when you needed him most. Left you to face your grief, the pain from Jin’s death which was no doubt hitting you the hardest of all.

How could he ever explain himself? Justify himself or earn back your trust? He was never blind to your affection, but simply possessed by a battle more prominent at the time. A battle with his brother which in hindsight felt pointless. The demands of the company consumed his every waking moment.

You said nothing. Simply stared at him in shock. He longed to reach out, to hold you, and offer a shoulder to lean on. Doubt held him back.

“Are you okay? The cops outside told me what happened. About the imposter.”

Still nothing.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know, I hadn’t seen him since—”

“You killed Jin”

Your voice boomed. Echoed through the grand walls of the foyer. Seething with anger, your jaw clenched. Tears brimming at the edges of your red eyes.

The words stung. Stung because he couldn’t say you were wrong. Because you could be saying fact—and Namjoon didn’t know if he killed his brother or not.

“Y/n please”

He didn’t want to lie to you—perhaps it wasn’t lying until the trust was discovered.

“You killed him and I loved him”

Perhaps those words stung even more.

Namjoon reached for your hands. “I need you to know that I never wanted you to marry Taehyung. I never wanted to force you to do anything. You deserve to live your own life”

He fell to his knees, keeping your palms in his. Not knowing how else to beg for your forgiveness.

“I got so drunk the night he was killed. The night before your engagement because—fuck Y/n, I didn’t want to do this to you. I didn’t know how bad things were, I was so blind—I wish I could go back. Fight for you”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t kill him Namjoon”

Namjoon swallowed tickly, diverting his eyes.

“Tell me the fucking truth”

He kissed your hand softly. He didn’t want to hurt you any more than he already had. But perhaps it was that mentality alone that was his biggest betrayal. His family’s biggest betrayal to you—lying. Lying under the guise of your protection when all it did was dig you a deeper grave.

“I-I don’t know” He confessed, giving in. This was how it had to be. This was the only way he could even hope to repair his relationship with you. Glancing briefly at the detective, he continued “Maybe”

He stood up, “Can we go somewhere quiet and talk, please?”

“Actually um—” Jungkook interrupted, only for Namjoon to shoot him a glare.

“Don’t you have a fucking criminal to interrogate? We’re obviously pressing charges. Go to your job—I don’t pay so much fucking tax so you can harass me and my—”

He bit his tongue.

“Fine” You broke the pause. “Let’s go talk.” Turning to the detective, you gave him a reassuring nod.

“Well can you please come to the station after?”

“She’ll come when she’s ready” Namjoon snapped. The detective rolled his eyes.

Namjoon took your hand in his again, leading you upstairs. Into your room. Noticing the messy sheets. The remnants of your clothes thrown around the room. His jaw hardened.

“You slept with him” Namjoon rationalized. “The imposter”

“Yeah, and?” Huffing, you leaned against the window. “I already feel shitty enough about it so don’t you run your mouth at me”

“No I—” He moved closer to you, searching your face. Your eyes mixed with vulnerability and resilience. You were tough, he knew that. He saw that so clearly even through the years he dismissed you. “Come here”

He pulled you into his chest, hand cradling the back of your head. He hugged you—he couldn’t remember the last time he had. Probably over a decade ago. He didn’t deserve to hold you, he knew it deep down. But whatever little he could offer you now, he would do it. He would do anything for you.

“I’m so sorry” He mumbled into the top of your head. “I won’t abandon you again, I promise”

He could feel your shoulders relax, your arms wrapping around his torso.

“This is your fault” You sobbed, “Everything is your fault Joonie”

“I know” He kissed your forehead, gazing into your teary eyes. His palm cupping your face, thumb wiping away your tears. His heart twisting in his chest.

Seconds passed so incredibly slow, yet too fast for him to think.

“I love you” His eyes widened as the words left his mouth. You blinked at him in confusion.

“W-what?”

“I know you hate me, and you have every right to. But I—I love you Y/n. I always have. Jin looming over my shoulder all my life just made me not realize it”

“Are you fucking kidding me Joonie? I always wanted you” You stared at him in disbelief. “You—you used me. I still have trouble opening my heart to anyone because of what you did to me—and now you’re saying you love me??”

“I know. Okay. I know what I did and I regret it every single day. I just hated Jin so much. More than I loved you, and now that Jin’s gone I can finally let myself feel it”

“You’re the fucking reason that I was engaged to Taehyung! I had a choice—I chose you”

Namjoon blinked. “Huh?”

“Yeah and you asked me if I loved Jin and I said I didn’t, so you told your mother to set me up with Taehyung”

“That’s not what happened”

“The fuck you mean it’s not what happened Joon? I clearly remember—”

“Y/n” Namjoon held your shoulders tightly, “I didn’t even know they asked you. Jin just told me one day. I swear”

You receded in silence.

“I’m pretty sure Jin was the one who decided too. Did you know, mom never left the company for him? He tricked me. Made me promise to see your engagement through and give him Nexus shares in exchange for the casinos”

You gulped, quiet for a moment to process before speaking: “He was also apparently seeing someone. A serious relationship”

“Yeah” Namjoon gulped. He had a pretty decent idea who it was, but didn’t want to tell you anything he didn’t know for sure. He’d put you through enough today. “I heard”

You gulped. Staring into his eyes. Until your eyes dropped to his lips. Namjoon’s heart skipped a beat. Rhythm rushing the blood in his veins.

“Namjoon—” You looked away, but Namjoon held your chin steady with his finger. Tilting your face up to his.

“I love you” He repeated. “I’m here now, nothing will happen to you. No one can hurt you anymore. Not even him”

He leaned in just a tad. Pausing to ensure you wanted this. He wouldn’t push you. Wouldn’t manipulate you ever again.

“Don’t”

A man’s voice came from the door.

“Please—don’t”

Jungkook rushed back to the car. Taehyung and Yoongi were clearly in the middle of some sort of intense discussion.

“Where is she?” Yoongi asked, looking around. He squinted at Namjoon’s car. “Wait—is that—”

“Yeah” Jungkook exhaled, turning on the engine, “Namjoon is back” He looked to Taehyung, “You can go in if you want, but we already arrested Jimin”

Taehyung remained still. Silent. Only the sound of his shaky breath until finally his eyes rose to meet Jungkook’s.

“Yeah” Jungkook glanced at Yoongi who shrugged. “I’ll go in”

“Do you want me to come with you Taehyung?” Yoongi reached out to him. Taehyung shook his head.

“Thanks Yoongi hyung. I should be fine. They’re family”

“Tell Y/n to call me when she can okay” Yoongi called out as Taehyung exited the car. Jungkook peered at him, an uneasy feeling in his gut. Alas he had more pressing issues at the moment. He rushed back to the station.

Jimin was locked in a cell when he arrived. Grinning wide. Infuriating Jungkook.

“You father would be so disappointed in you, interfering with the fall of the Kim’s” Jimin taunted from behind bars.

“You don’t know my father” He hissed under his breath.

“I was Kim Seokjin’s therapist—I know quite a bit about your father” Jimin walked up to the bars, pressing his face in between them. “And that he deserved to die”

“Enough” Jungkook snapped, his voice dropping low. “I have a few questions, and then I’m leaving you here to rot, got it?”

Jimin clicked his tongue in amusement. “Go ahead then. Ask me what you really want to know” He grinned wide, “Like how tight Y/n’s little cunt was”

Jungkook’s fist slammed against the pole. “Haven’t I beat you enough for today? Or are you a freak who likes it?”

“You like it too I bet. Beating people. Your dad sure did”

“Say one more thing about my dad” Jungkook hissed. Jimin pursed his lips in amusement.

“Am I in here because of impersonation? Because I didn’t commit any fraud, technically. Lying isn’t a crime”

“You’re a person of interest in the murder of Kim Seokjin”

Jimin giggled, “God, you’re all fucking idiots. I didn’t kill Seokjin. I was his doctor. And you can’t ask me about him because that information is protected by law”

“I can, since he’s fucking dead, and whatever he confessed in therapy might help us find out what happened”

“How long are you going to pretend, Jeon Jungkook?” Jimin asked, “How long are you going to act like this wasn’t all you?”

“Please—don’t”

Both you and Namjoon turned towards the voice. Namjoon’s lips parted in shock, while you stood—frozen in time.

Curly black hair. Eyes that glimmered so uniquely they made you want to stare at them for hours. Soft, thin lips. Pretty lashes. The resemblance was uncanny.

Pain seared through your chest.

“Taehyung?” Namjoon’s voice shattered your flashback. “Is that really you?”

He nodded, turning to his brother. Namjoon hesitated, before awkwardly opening his arms to embrace him. Taehyung melted into him—a boy reunited with his brother. It was a heartwarming sight.

“My god, Tae” Namjoon muttered, “Where the hell have you been?”

He turned back towards you. You were still too stunned to speak. His eyes scanned you up and down—in a way that made you feel like he could see through you. Straight to your bones.

“Hi” His eyes softened, but his face remained still. “Remember me?”

He must have spoken, but you couldn’t hear anything but your heart hammering in your ears. Panic flooding your veins. Your head feeling light—dizzy. Everything shifted, everything blurred.

"Are you scared of me, princess?"

There it was. The nickname. You stiffened as he leaned forward, fingers trailing up your jaw until he held your cheek in his palm. Held you gaze in his own, eyes drifting with mystery. His voice was so incredibly soft. Sweet even. Contrasting the ever so slightly amused glint in his eye.

You exhaled, heart throbbing through your ribs, almost to the point of suffocation.

"Hyung," Taehyung shifted to look at Namjoon who was watching the scene unfold intently, lips pursed in worry. Truth be told, he had been shocked at the intimate moment he almost walked in on. He never recalled Namjoon having any affection for you��or anyone for that matter. “Can we have a minute?”

"Yeah, of course. I’ll be in my room" Namjoon stood up slowly, looking to you for some sort of affirmation that it was okay to leave. You sent him a slight nod, to which his shoulders relaxed.

Ten years. Shocking nightmares every single night. Screaming to you, if maybe you might look back. If you might spare him a second glance and save him.

Taehyung was no idiot. He wasn’t oblivious to soft glances of attraction between you and Jin, speaking through nothing but the shy glimmer in your eyes.

Year after year passed, and he wondered if you’d care enough to find him. Wondered if you’d dare to question the actions of his brother—you didn’t.

And his resentment grew like a tumor in his soul.

You stood, a ghost from the past—a figment of this twisted reality. And Taehyung could finally drink you in. Your eyes were filled with a dead numbness. There used to be a light in there.

You were his princess. He was the first to say it, the first to think it, and as far as he was concerned the only one who truly had the right to call you it.

But where were you during his darkest days?

Your features softened, a mix of recognition and affection filling your gaze.

Taehyung didn’t know when he moved. Who moved first. The whole moment was a timeless blur. Wrapping his arms around you, the storm seemed to fade. All the years of separation melting away, resentment and distrust fading to dust, leaving only the warmth of your embrace.

He didn't want to hold you too tightly and yet, he couldn't bring himself to let go. Truth be told, Taehyung had never been more afraid in his entire life. Afraid of you. Afraid of his feelings for you.

Afraid of the ability you had to drive him completely and utterly insane.

“Are you real?” You looked into his eyes. “Fuck, Taehyung, I missed you so much”

Stepping away, he regarded you. Looking you up and down before his jaw hardened. The dark spells of his mind knocking on the forefront.

“You missed me?” He scoffed, tongue rolling in his cheek as he cocked his head. “You could have tried to find me, Y/n”

“Taehyung I—” His heart leapt when his name left your lips. “I don’t—I don’t even know why they sent you away”

“Did you try and find out?”

You gave him a guilty look. Reaching out for him but he flinched at your touch. “I thought about you all the time”

“Answer me” He snapped. You gulped.

“Well, Jin—”

“Don’t say his name to me” Taehyung hissed, “He did this to me, do you even know that Y/n?”

“I can’t” You shook your head rapidly, tears spilling from your eyes. Taehyung felt queasy at the sight, “I can’t deal with this. Why can’t you be happy to see me?”

“I spent ten years. Ten fucking years locked in psychiatric facilities, Y/n” He gripped your shoulders, “You were here, playing princess in my house—don’t tell me how I should fucking feel”

“I didn’t know” You pleaded, reaching for his face, “Taehyung I swear to you, I didn’t know”

“My mom is dead” He exhaled, a hint of amusement in his voice, “I didn’t even know about it—no one even fucking told me. And hyung too”

“Taehyung” You ran your fingers through his hair. He couldn’t help but croon into your touch. Muscles relaxing under the sweet sensation. “I’m so sorry”

He let his eyes flutter shut, you rested your head on his chest. He was taller than you. His hands holding your waist steady. Forehead resting against yours as tears began to drip down his face.

“I want to know everything” You spoke in hushed tones. Your voice soft, like music to his ears. He could feel your breath on his lips. “I want to make up for the time we lost, okay, I promise you”

He nodded lightly, sniffling.

“You’re so handsome, Tae” There was pride in your voice that brought a shy smile to his face. “Look at you, all grown up” He chuckled, wiping his tears away. He looked at you again, sighing deeply before resting his head back on your shoulder.

You pressed your lips to Taehyung’s cheek before stepping away from him. He gasped for air, the walls closing around him suddenly at the loss of your touch.

“Listen, I need to go to the station to give my report. I’ll be back soon, okay?” He watched, again you were leaving him. Without looking back.

He almost believed you.

Almost.

It was a lie.

A pathetic lie, but you couldn’t take it anymore. Seeing Taehyung—the real Taehyung, made it all too real.

Can we not meet at the station?

You sent the message—not knowing if Jungkook would respond.

Could use a drink. Meet me here—he sent an address. Tucked away in the inner city where no one would recognize you. None of Jin’s lackeys, or your mother’s goons. It was hardly your kind of crowd. You were surprised—pleasantly even. Jeon Jungkook didn’t come across as someone who liked to party.

“Hey” He showed. No longer in his stupid leather jacket, he looked different, simply in a white t-shirt. Chain on his neck. Hair haphazard, rather than the slick back he wore to work. “You good?”

Jungkook orders two shots at the bar, sliding one to you as you settle into the barstool next to him. Remembering the last time the two of you were like this. The first day you met.

You clink your glass against his before downing the bitter liquid. You watch Jungkook’s face scrunch with distaste, followed by a smile.

You avoid his question, asking him instead: “Did you talk to Jimin?”

Jungkook nodded, “First, I want to talk to you about this morning” He placed his elbows on the bartop, leaning forward slightly. His voice lowered, “We were in a rush, but I want to hear what you were trying to say”

You scoffed.

“Did he hurt you, Y/n?” You glared at him. “You said he fucked you in your sleep…”

You exhaled slowly, “Honestly I wouldn’t mind what he did, if we had discussed it first. But in my gut I just knew, Taehyung—would never violate me like that” Your fingers curled into your palm, “He was so rough. So insane. I just” You shook your head, disgusted by the bought of pity in Jungkook’s eyes. “I’ve grown up with men like that”

He nodded, absorbing every word.

“Wanna dance?”

You looked at him skeptically.

“Detective Jeon Jungkook dances?”

He gave you a sly wink before grabbing your wrist. With a tight pull, he leads you into the crowd. Locking his eyes with yours, everything else fading to dark as his magnetic pull drew you in.

You tried to focus on the music. The familiar feeling of a loud bass, a crowd of people and booze. Even still, intrusive thoughts knocked at your mind—Namjoon was home, Taehyung was home.

Taehyung resented you. Taehyung blamed you.

“Look at me” Jungkook leaned into you, hands ghosting over your hips as they began to sway to the pulsating beat. “Don’t think about them. Only look at me”

His eyes flickered with a softness. A pain which he also was trying so desperately to escape. You reckoned that Jungkook might have been a kind, fun loving person if not for the trauma the Kim’s put him through by killing his father. Instead he was trapped in the same web as you.

Your hands slid around his neck, loosely as your fingers weaved through his hair. He guided you, shielded you from onlookers. His eyes on you and nothing else. Transfixed to you like a curse.

It was ironic. Dangerous even. Everything about Jungkook made you distrust him. And you had no doubt he didn’t trust you either. Within the walls the two of you built, you had somehow grown closer. You couldn’t even pinpoint when. Somewhere along the way you began to see him clearly, or let him see you.

His touch is tender as he pulls your ass in, pressing your chest up against him so he can grind into you. His bulge gratifying, easing the tension throbbing between your legs. Stroking your ego, making you feel desired without the ugly aftertaste that often came with it. His large hands feel so good on you, you never want him to let go.

Your eyes flutter shut, surrendering completely to him. He turns you around so he can trace your neck with his nose. His fingers light fires across your sides, and you want to feel more but he doesn’t push it.

He stops suddenly, gazing at you with the colors of the flashing lights reflecting through his wide doe eyes. A glow on his face that you weren’t sure was real, or if it was simply the tone of his stare.

He looked as though he wanted to say something. And you desperately wanted to hear him. His mouth opened slightly, eyes darting from your eyes to your lips.

The space between you vanishing.

Inch by inch.

Until you swore you could taste him.

Your phone vibrated suddenly. Jungkook flinched, stepping back. With a guilty look, you excused yourself, slipping into a quiet corner of the club.

“Mazel tov” The snarky voice echoed through, “The prodigal son returns”

“Where the fuck have you been?” You snapped. “How could you let this happen? How did you not know?”

“Relax darling, I’ve been caught up entertaining your lover boy. Glad to finally have him out of my hair, truly. He’s bad for my cortisol”

“Well did you get a confession?”

“He doesn’t remember. Which is good for us. I can easily plant evidence for your Detective”

“Good. Do it soon. Jungkook wants the murderer to be Namjoon so it’s likely he will believe anything he gets. Not sure what to do about this Park Jimin fellow”

“Well darling, like I said last time. You say the word, and I’ll clean up your mess”

Rolling your eyes, you hung up the phone. Turning back around, Jungkook stood where you left him, bewildered.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed past the sea of dancers. You didn’t know why—you didn’t care. In that moment, you wanted nothing more than that Jungkook’s hands all over you. His lips on yours. You wanted his snarky little comments, his profound advice. To learn his every scar. Every crevice. And show him yours. You wanted to run away with him and never look back.

“Kiss me Jeon Jungkook” You hooked his shirt, dragging his face down to yours. Catching his lips in a desperate kiss.

The heat was overwhelming. Shamelessly, you kissed him in the middle of the crowd. Music numbing out into the sounds of two pounding hearts. His hands finding the small of your back.

You’d kissed him before but this was different. Even in the fire of the moment, you could feel how much he wanted you. How much he craved your lips, just like you craved his. He was water, and you were dying of thirst. He was air, and you were drowning.

He cupped your face, deepening the kiss as he pulled you impossibly closer. Finding breaths through your parted lips, you dared not pull away.

“Car” He breathed into your mouth. Voice raspy, feverish.

Grabbing his wrist, you led him out of the club. The fresh outdoor air hitting you with a sharp coldness. Loss of the bodies around you.

Jungkook slammed you against the hood of his car, pinning you down before sucking into your neck. You moaned loudly, his thigh slotting between your legs giving you barely any friction. You bucked your hips desperately as his lips moved down.

You were still wearing Namjoon’s clothes. Jungkook hissed, grabbing the hem of the hoodie and yanking it off of you. There was nothing underneath. Your nipples hardening in the cold as Jungkook smirked, rolling his thumb over one. Watching you writhe and twitch under him.

“You’re so fucking hot” He hissed, latching his teeth onto your tit and sucking lightly. Tongue darting out, flicking the sensitive flesh as your back arched. Looking down at him, as much as you wanted to look away. The pleasure unbearable.

He moved onto the other breast, taking his time as if the two of you weren’t in public. As if someone couldn’t just walk up and see how Jungkook shamelessly sucked your tits. Pulling away, you could see a string of drool land on your chest as he smacked his lips.

“Tell me what you want” He ordered, fingers gripping around your neck. Not tight enough to impact your breathing, but enough to make sure you knew who was in charge.

You were speechless. Irritated, Jungkook slid his thumb into your mouth and watched you suck it obscenely.

“What do you want, Y/n?” He asked again, replacing his thumb with his tongue, tangling it with yours into another kiss.

“You” You gasped, loving the weight of his strong body on yours. “I want you, Jungkook”

You could feel his lips curve into a grin. “For the record” He whispered, teeth grazing your lips, tugging at them. “I still hate you”

You nodded. Awestruck as he pulled his cock out, not letting you look anywhere but his eyes.

“I hate how entitled you are” He tugged your sweats down to press his heavy tip against your clit, “I hate how you’re so bratty”

He pressed his cock in, sliding into your folds just a bit. “Full of fucking attitude, think you’re fucking invincible.”

You gulped, recalling Taehyung’s similar words.

“I hate all these men in your life. You’re complicated. You’re messy. You’re manipulative, and I can see it” With every word he pressed in a little more until he bottomed out. Hissing sharply, he met your eyes again. “Playing victim, but you’re just as bad as the rest of them”

“So why the fuck” His lips were tight against yours, hardly kissing but more just breathing into one another, “Do I want you so much?” He thrust into you slowly, rolling his hips. You kissed his neck, moving your hands through his hair and onto his back as he found a steady rhythm.

Your legs caressed his back, moving up and down against him with every thrust. It was filthy. Your naked body against the cool metal of his car. Desperately throwing yourself at this man.

And yet, you held onto him as tight as you could, crying out as he pistoned in and out of you.

His hands moving under your thighs, nails gripping into them painfully as he lifted you up. You forgot how strong he was—effortlessly he carried you, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist as he bounced you up and down on his cock. Face burying into your neck, lapping up the skin with open-mouthed kisses.

“You think you’re a princess do you?” Jungkook grabbed your neck, setting you back to lie on the car. Stilling for a moment he watched your fucked out eyes. “I’m thinking you’re more like a little desperate slut”

“I am” You exhaled, nodding dumbly, “I’m a slut for you. Wanna do whatever you want Jungkook please f-fuck”

He rammed back into you. Cock hitting you deep. You walls clenching around him, leaking to which Jungkook growled under his breath. His fingers finding your clit, working it expertly, causing your eyes to roll back as pleasure seized you.

Twitching all over, shocks of lust pouring through your veins. Jungkook coerced your orgasm as his cock sheathed into you. Your folds fluttering around his length, tightening it’s visceral grip.

“They can’t make you cum like I do baby” Jungkook pulled out, stroking himself against your thigh. “Get on your fucking knees”

You obeyed. Sliding down the car until your bare knees were on the parking lot. Jungkook’s cock stood proud in your face. You watched, eyes blasted and needy, before placing your own hands in place of his.

He watched as you stroked him. As your lips pressed against his tip before you let him sink down your throat. Hollowing your cheeks, you gave him everything you possibly could. Bobbing your head up and down, the noises bringing shame to your cheeks.

“Show me your pretty tits baby” Jungkook grabbed a fistful of your hair, “Want to cum on your tits”

You gasped, releasing him with a pop of your lips. Immediately pressing your tits together so Jungkook could slide his heavy cock between them. It felt good. Him rubbing up against you like this. Your heart against his pulsing need. You pulled him closer, wanting to feel him more. He licked his lips, watching you intently.

You stared up at him. Eyes gleaming. Jungkook spurted all over you, cum landing on your chest. Your heart sunk, knowing the moment would end. Reality was waiting for you at home. Your escape had ended.

Jungkook’s eyes softened, as he helped you up. You kissed him again, urging him for more. Urging him to fill you up again. To fuck you senseless all night long. Moaning into his mouth, you rolled your body against him.

“Fuck baby” Jungkook gripped your waist, stilling your movements, “You need me that bad huh?” You nodded, biting your lip as he teased you, “Yeah? You want more huh?”

You turned around, bending over so your ass was on display. Jungkook cursed under his breath as you spread your legs. An open invitation. Every man’s dream.

Licking his fingers, he ran them through your folds, spreading them out and pushing through the wetness. You gushed over him. Whimpering. He kept rubbing you, his movements strong but not rushed. Lips grazing your bare back.

His other hand slid between you and the car, gripping your breast hard. He pumped his fingers inside you, chest pressed against your back. You could feel his breath against your nape, riling you up even more. Heat pooling all over you.

He chuckled. The vibrations of which hit you right in the core. You were so turned on you couldn’t help it. You leaked all over, squirting into you palm. Jungkook laughed more as you came. Your fingers digging into your palms as you screamed.

“Already? You’re so fucking desperate”

“I don’t wanna go home” You confessed. Jungkook paused.

He turned you around, palm resting against your cheek.

“I know” He stiffened, “I’m sorry, for what you’re going through”

Jungkook pulled you up, grabbing your clothes from the ground. He led you to the backseat of the car where he let you tear his clothes off of him.

Settling onto his strong lap, he let you grind your wet pussy against him. Naked bodies fused together. You clawed at the back of his head, moaning at the top of your lungs as you sunk down on Jungkook’s cock again.

He watched you, amazed. Your eyes shut, bouncing up and down on him. Rutting desperately.

You’re not sure when you stopped. The two of you like hormonal teenagers, touching kissing and fucking until your limbs were sore. Jungkook, surprisingly, ever the giver, made you cum more times than you ever had in one night. And even when you were too sensitive for anything more, you still couldn’t find the will to leave.

Until you remembered the look in Taehyung’s eyes.

Jungkook held you. Lightly kissing your back as you cuddled into him. Again, another position you never thought you’d find yourself in with Jeon Jungkook.

“You should go” Jungkook’s voice was barely above a whisper. You gave him a hurt look, “I know, I know. You’ll be okay”

Sitting upright, you began to put your clothes on. Jungkook watched before speaking again,

“Jung Hoseok”

You stilled.

“Jin was seeing Jung Hoseok. The two of them were dating. I had a suspicion and Jimin confirmed it earlier.”

Shit.

“You acted like you didn’t know”

You looked at him. To see if he was actually hurt by your lying, or used to your games.

“I don’t know anyone named Jung Hoseok”

Jungkook stared at you before scoffing.

“Not only do you know Jung Hoseok, but I know that you called him many times before Jin’s death. I have evidence that both he and Namjoon were with you at some point that night,”

You remained silent, fuming.

“He was the one who called you earlier, wasn’t he?”

You swallowed.

“I’m not the one unwilling to be on the same side” Jungkook sighed, “I told you before, we can help each other out. You’re hiding so much from me, and have the audacity to think of yourself as a victim. All you need to do is tell me what happened that night, and I can help you figure this out”

“Fuck you Jeon. This was a mistake” You snapped, “Take me home”

Jungkook clicked his tongue, “Right. Home to your Kim boys. To your palace”

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