#pjm series

[writtenwhalien]

a lover's redemption | chapter 1

chapter 1. way down we go

pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader

genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)

summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.

word count ↠ 10k

18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, violence, all sorts of crime (please see the series masterlist for a complete list of warnings).

taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3

notes ↠ please enjoy and share xoxoxox i'll confirm the release date of chapter 2 soon—this fic is a lot of work lol so in the meantime pls enjoy this longer chapter <3 and i used korean family names bc its a jimin fic and its hard to try and think of any other way that flows/to not use names, sorry not sorry, just imagine what you want xx

14th September 2003

“That’s it, good girl, Y/N—ow!” 

Your dad clutched his leg after a particularly hard roundhouse kick to his thigh. 

“Haha, well done, Y/N,” your granddad laughed from the side, clapping his hands in praise of you which motivated you to keep going. 

Going in for another front punch, you dodged your dad’s punches – which he pulled to avoid hurting you – and then you came in with a sharp jab to his ribs. 

“Ah, gosh, okay, okay,” he chuckled, taking a step back off the mat. “I think we should finish for the day, I’m gonna be covered in bruises tomorrow.”

“Was I good?” you asked, eager to hear your dad’s compliments as always. 

“You were amazing, dear,” your granddad said, stepping forward and ruffling your hair. “You remember what I told you, yes?”

“Yes,” you nodded, stating the next words like a mantra. “Self defence is a state of mind that begins with the belief you are worth defending.” It’s what your granddad had told you since you started training last year at the age of five.

“Still got it,” your dad smiled, kneeling down to help you pull off your shin guards. “You can show Jae-ho the combination tomorrow, but for now, let’s go get ready for dinner before your mom kills me.”

Beaming, you ripped your gloves off. “Can we go again before class tomorrow?”

“Of course we can,” your dad said, patting your back, and together you raced out of the summer room and back into the house, as your granddad followed leisurely behind you. 

“Mom, I learned a new combination today!” you beamed, climbing up onto the stool at the breakfast counter.

Your mom smiled at you, her apron covered in flour as she puts a tray into the oven. “That’s amazing sweetie, I’ll watch it tomorrow when Jae-ho comes over, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching over and taking an apple from the fruit bowl.

Taking off her apron, your mom walked around the counter towards you. “Ah, your hair is all sweaty, you must have been working really hard.” She took out your hair tie, combing through your hair with her fingers.

“Ow,” you grimaced, still munching on your apple. “It was really hot.”

She laughed. “I’m sure it was.” 

“There she is!” The sound of your grandma’s voice made you turn around. She smiled as she came towards you. “Let’s get you bathed before dinner.”

“Do I have to?” you grumbled.

Your grandma paused, sniffing the air. “What’s that smell?” 

Laughing, you hopped off the stool and ran towards the door. “It’s you, grandma!”

“What?!” She laughed with mock surprise, looking at your mom. “Is it me?”

“Hm…” Your mom paused and played along, sniffing your grandma. “Nu-uh.” She looked at you. “I think it’s coming from our pretty princess over there.” 

“I thought so,” your grandma smiled, before she and your mom proceeded to chase you through the house while you ran down the corridors and laughed gleefully. As you jumped on your parents bed, trying to make a beeline for their bathroom door, your mom caught you, cuddling you and smothering you in kisses before you eventually had to have a bath. Your grandma styled your hair in a ponytail with a pretty headband of your choice. You chose a blue one to match your dress and together you made your way downstairs. 

As you entered the living room, your dad turned around and behind him stood a tall man with dark hair neatly slicked back. 

“Y/N, honey, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” your dad said, smiling reassuringly as he took your hand. 

You’d met a lot of your dad’s friends and they all seemed nice. But this man was different. He didn’t look kind at all. As you approached, your attention was stolen by a boy standing close behind the man. He looked around your age, with brown hair and brown eyes. His cheeks were round and rosy which gave him a playful and friendly appearance, except for the unmistakable fact that he looked scared. 

“This is my friend, Jihoon, and his son, Jimin.”

At first you felt nervous, looking between your dad and the big stern looking man beside him. Glancing at your grandma, you eased up when she nudged you and smiled. 

“Why don’t you say hello, Y/N?” she said.

Your dad kneeled down as you looked up at the man. “You can say hello if you want, sweetie.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Y/N,” the man said, his lips curving into what must’ve meant to have been a smile — you thought it made him look scarier. “I’m your uncle Jihoon.” He extended his hand. 

Timidly, you shook it. Then your gaze fell to the boy standing behind him.

“Jimin.” Jihoon’s voice was suddenly sharp as he summoned his son to come forward. 

Looking up at his father in what you could only interpret as fear, he took a few steps forward and stopped in front of you. “Hello, I’m Jimin,” he said quietly, putting his hand forward just like his father did. 

“Hi, Jimin,” you said, reaching for his hand and shaking it once. “I’m Y/N.”

6 years later 17th July 2009

Sunlight streamed in through the windows, bringing in ample light to the summer room. Arranged messily on the table were pots of paint and brushes with a few complete canvases surrounding you as you worked. The canvas in front of you was a mix of vibrant colours, some careful strokes and others wild splashes you had crafted as you concentrated hard, your hand gripping the brush as you attempted to follow your father’s lead.

He had almost completed his piece, after many days working on it. A black sky tinged with deep hues of blue, and a single spear of lightning emerged through dark, swirling clouds, casting a pale, cold light reflecting off of the tempestuous sea of violent waves.

“Oh no,” you frowned, sitting back to get a better look at your work. “I ruined it.”

Your dad glanced over, smiling softly. “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s just different now, which is good.”

“But it doesn’t look how I wanted. It’s messy now.”

Your dad paused, getting up from his position in front of his much more professional easel to come and look at your work. Then, he dipped his brush in one of the colours you created and added a soft swirl, then another. You watched quietly as he added more.

“Things don’t always turn out how we want them to, sweetheart. That happens a lot in life. But you can always choose what to do next, even when things get messy.”

“What do you mean?”

Your dad set the paint brush down and sat on the chair next to you. Lines creased his forehead, his expression becoming sombre. It was something you’d been noticing more over the past few years.  

“Y/N, there will be times when everything around us feels messy or wrong — like people are not being kind, or things not going how we planned. You can’t always change that. But what you can control is how you act, even when everything feels hard. Being a good person means doing the right thing, even when the world around you isn’t.”

You frowned, thinking hard. “But what if people are mean, or if bad things happen? How do I be good when that’s happening?”

Your dad smiled warmly. “It’s like painting. Sometimes, you’ll have dark colors, or you’ll make a mistake. But you get to decide what comes next. You can add light, bring in something beautiful, even if the first stroke didn’t go how you wanted. You don’t have to paint what’s around you—you can paint what’s in here.” Gently, he tapped your chest over your heart.

Looking down, you began to understand. “So… even if everything’s messy, I can still make something pretty?”

“Exactly. You can always choose to do the right thing, to be kind, to help someone, even if others aren’t. It’s not always easy, but that’s what makes it important. Being a good person isn’t about waiting for things to be perfect, it’s about being good, even when things aren’t.”

You nodded, picking up your paintbrush and adding a swirl of your own. “Like this?”

With a grin, your dad nodded. “That’s perfect. You see? No matter how dark or messy things seem, you can always choose to make it better.”

“I want to do that, dad. I want to make things better, like you do.”

Your dad smiled, pulling you into a hug. “You already do, sweetheart.” 

You hugged him back, smiling when you felt him kiss the top of your head. Pulling away, you hopped off the chair. “What about yours? Is it finished?”

“I think so.”

“Lightning…  is it a storm?” you asked, standing next to your dad in front of the easel. 

“Yes,” he said, ruffling your hair with his elbow as his hands were smudged with paint. 

“What does it mean?”

“Sometimes it can mean power,” he answered, turning back to the canvas in front of him. “But sometimes it can also mean punishment.”

You looked up, frowning.

He smiled. “Sometimes, too much power isn’t a good thing. If you’re not a good person, then it can be dangerous.”

“Oh…” You looked back at the canvas, admiring the deep shades of blue and black and grey he’d used to paint the night sky. “Who is it for?” you asked.

Your dad’s smile disappeared as he looked back at the canvas. “An old friend.”

You looked at your dad and noticed he looked sad. “Are you not friends anymore?”

He shook his head, a smile returning. “We are. Dad’s just being silly.” He patted your shoulder gently. “Come on, let’s go have dinner. All this painting has made me hungry.”

Dinner passed peacefully that night with your parents and grandparents conversing as they always did, and you spent most of the time poking your mom’s belly to try to get your growing baby brother to respond. 

Then, as soon as your dad finished eating, he got a text. Everyone on the dinner table went quiet and for a moment, you were forgotten.

“It’s Han-jae,” your dad said quietly. “He’s asked to see me.”

Your granddad exhaled slowly and you saw how your mothers hand tensed around her fork. 

“I told you not to get involved,” she murmured, looking at your dad with worry. 

He reached for her hand, caressing it gently. “I had to, love, you know that.”

“Why you?” she implored, almost desperately. “Why couldn’t you ask someone else.”

“I don’t know who to trust right now, Jihoon hasn’t been himself lately.”

“Jihoon is the same as always, he’s a cold man,” your mother answered.

“Sae-yi is right. Jihoon has always been a heartless person.”

“Perhaps that’s why I can’t trust him with this."

“Then don’t." Your mom took your fathers hands in both of hers. “But do you have to go?”

Your dads face gave her the answer and she sighed, grip loosening on his hand.

“Honey,” he whispered, closing his hand around hers firmly again and leaning in. “I’ll have my men with me, we’ll be back within an hour, I promise.” Smiling, he kissed her on the lips. “I’ve known Han-jae almost all my life, nothing’s going to happen.”

Your mother’s worried expression didn’t falter. “He’s the one who’s changed. I don’t trust him, not after what he was going to do to Jiyoung.” 

“I know,” your dad said, moving his hand in to hold your mom's cheek. “And that’s why I can’t let him know anything’s up, Ji-young isn’t safely out of the country yet so I should go.”

Leaning into his touch, your mom sighed. “Your heart's too big for this world, Sehun.”

Your dad smiled, pressing his forehead against hers and placing his hand on her swollen tummy. “It’s just big enough for you and my beautiful family.” He looked across at you sitting beside your mother and took your hand too, kissing it softly. “Look after your mama while I’m away, and we’ll have some dessert when I get back, okay?”

You nodded, confused yet reassured by your father’s smile. Nodding back, your dad kissed your mother once more before saying goodbye to your grandparents too. Your mom and granddad walked him out while your grandma stayed with you and made you finish your dinner.

The first half hour passed as normal. You stayed sitting with your grandma while your mom and granddad spoke privately in the kitchen. That was nothing new to you, you’d grown up with the adults having many private conversations out of earshot, so nothing felt off… until another fifteen minutes later.

Your mom wouldn’t stop pacing back and forth, her phone in her hand. “Neither of them are replying to my texts. He always replies, always.” You could hear the panic in her voice, the slight tremor that shook you deeply inside.

Then your grandma had the maid get you ready for bed, and you couldn’t hear what the grown-ups were whispering anymore. You were used to being sent to bed like this so you did what you always did — you sat by your bedroom window to watch the blacked out cars that usually come and go in the driveway. Except this time there weren’t any cars so instead you clambered on to your bed to read a book while you waited for your dad. 

As you grew bored, you remembered your dad promised to be back within the hour… glancing at the clock in your room, you realised he was late. 26 minutes late. 

A pit of worry grew in your stomach and you wished to be near your mom, so you got out of bed and walked to the door, your favourite book in your hand as you hoped to read to your little brother like you’d done so many times before.

Clutching it tightly, you walked out of your room towards the staircase, and then you heard it —  your mothers heart wrenching scream. 

At that moment, you knew your dad wasn’t going to be coming back home. 

present day

“One cappuccino please, and a croissant too.”

Without looking up from where you’re still folding the tea towels, you respond to the customer. “To eat in or takeaway?”

“Eat in.”

“Coming right up.” You fold the last one, patting it down before turning to face the customer. “That’ll be 9000 won plea– oh.” You pause, looking at the man behind the counter. “Hello again.”

“Hi, Y/N.” He smiles warmly, pulling out his wallet from the pocket of his black trenchcoat. 

“Ah, you remember my name.”

“And you don’t remember mine,” he grins, nodding his head when you wince apologetically. “Seojun.”

“Seojun,” you repeat. “I’ll remember that now, I promise.”

He chuckles, placing a 50000 won note on the counter. “Don’t sweat it. And keep the change,” he says, turning around to seat himself at the closest table.

You pick it up, shaking your head. “Again?”

He folds his coat over the empty chair beside him before smoothing down the lapels of his suit jacket. “Yes, and don’t try to give me an extra muffin to make up for it.”

You deposit the bill into the till and put the change in the tip jar. Glancing at him, you see him looking over his shoulder out the window. “Did you at least like it?”

Seojun turns back and smiles. “Nope.”

“Hey!”

“I’m just being honest, I’m not a fan of blueberries,” he shrugs. “If you’re gonna give me anything, I'll take another coffee to go, iced americano this time.”

“Hmph, whatever,” you mumble, getting to work on his cappuccino. “I worked on that muffin recipe for weeks.”

“Try less baking powder maybe?” You shoot him a look when he says this and he puts his hands up defensively. “Or not.”

“Maybe if you weren’t tipping so much, I wouldn’t have to give you a muffin,” you say, steaming the milk for his drink.

“There’s a jar there for a reason,” he points out, nodding to the tip jar on the counter which you’ve kept there for your younger employees on top of the generous wage you pay them.

“Fair.” You finish preparing his cappuccino and plate up the croissant, walking over to his table. “Just don’t diss my muffins.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, doing little to hide the amusement in his voice. 

“Yeah, whatever,” you roll your eyes, smiling as you place his order down. “Here.” 

“Sit with me,” he says, kicking the seat out from in front of him. 

Pausing, you look at the only other occupied table. They seem fine, so you take Seojun’s offer, getting yourself a muffin and slipping into the seat while he looks over his shoulder again.

“Expecting someone?” you ask, breaking off a piece. 

“Hm?” He faces forward again, quickly shaking off the serious expression on his face. “Oh, no.” Smiling, he takes a sip of his coffee.

“How’s your girlfriend?” you ask, remembering the last conversation you had with him in which he told you all about his plans to surprise his girlfriend with a handcrafted bracelet made by himself. Apparently the diamonds from Tiffany’s just don’t feel special to him anymore. 

You smiled when he said that to you – it reminded you of your dad. It was easy enough to walk into a store and order the most expensive jewels, so he preferred to pour his time and effort into surprising your mom with paintings. He was good at it too, something you’ve grown to be envious of since you can’t say he passed the same talent to you.

Seojun smiles. “She’s good. Loved the bracelet.”

This makes you smile. “I’m glad.”

“How’s your grandma?”

“She’s great,” you nod. The last conversation you had with Seojun, was actually also the first. He walked into the cafe last week and immediately started a conversation with you. At first, you were slightly wary, but you’re always cautious so you went along with it. He’s a nice guy, and truthfully, you were glad for a change from all the college gossip you were used to hearing from your younger employees. They have a lot of drama, some of which bores you. 

Speaking with Seojun just seems familiar, like speaking with an old friend. 

“How’s her gallery?”

“Busy. She barely even calls me these days.”

Seojun chuckles. “Maybe you should visit her, I’m sure she’d like it.” 

At this, you pause, smiling. “I should. It’s been a while since I've seen her.” Your fork pokes aimlessly at the muffin. “I’ve just been a bit busy.”

“With the cafe?”

“Huh?” You look at Seojun, only to catch him looking back towards you just in time. That’s the third time he’s looked over his shoulder.

“I asked if you’re busy with the cafe,” he repeats, quickly looking down to take a bite of his croissant.

“Well, yeah,” you lie, also looking down. It’s a simple answer when the truth is more complicated. 

Seojun looks at you, eyes slightly rounded in concern. “It might be a good idea to take a break, no? Get out of Seoul and stay with her for a while.” 

This gives you pause, and you stare at him. “I don’t think I'll be leaving Seoul for a while,” you answer, watching him carefully. 

But before he can respond, you’re interrupted by your phone ringing in your back pocket. Pulling it out, you see your grandma is calling. Glancing up at Seojun, he’s now looking down at his half empty cup while tensely rubbing his thumb against the side of his tight fist.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, getting up and answering the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Y/N, sweetheart?”

You frown, immediately hearing something off in her tone. Looking back over your shoulder, you see Seojun looking through his suit pockets for something. You face forward again. “Yes, it’s me. Are you okay? You don’t normally call this early.”

There’s a pause on the other side of the phone as you hear your grandma let out a small sigh. “I’m well,” she says. “I just needed to make sure you’re fine.”

“I am, but you already know that,” you remind her. “I called you this morning.”

“I know.” There’s another soft silence.

“Did something happen?” you ask, an uncertain feeling brewing in your chest. Your grandma has never had any reason to call like this before. Maybe if she knew of the midnight runs you frequently went on, she would, but as it happens, she doesn’t. You’ve made sure of that by having Yoongi promise to keep it from her, and his own father, Min Hyun-tae who is the closest confidante of your grandma.

Eventually, she answers. “I heard there’s been some trouble with the Cheong’s and… ah, never mind. I was just worried.”

You frown – Yoongi should’ve told you this too. “Well, what is it?”

“Don’t worry about it, just stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Moni, what is it–”

“Y/N,” she interrupts, her voice suddenly stern. “Whatever it is, it’ll pass over in a few days.”

Holding your tongue, you exhale heavily through your nose. You know your grandma is only this protective of you to keep you safe and she has every reason to worry, which makes it harder that you have to lie to her so often. 

“Okay. Promise me you’ll stay safe too.”

Your grandma chuckles. “I’m living a quiet life here in Namwon, dear. Don’t worry about me.”

She’s safe, you remind yourself. Away from the memories and danger here in Seoul. “Okay, I love you,” you say softly.

“I love you too. Bye now.”

Ending the call, you can’t ignore the feeling that remains in your chest, and when you turn around, you’re surprised to see that Seojun has gone. All that’s left on the table is the dishes and his receipt. Drawing closer, you see he’s scribbled something on the back of it: She’s the only family you have left. You should stay with her. 

In the two conversations you’ve had with Seojun, you haven’t once mentioned any other family member, and he never asked, yet he seems to know that it’s just you and her left…

Suddenly, it occurs to you that maybe Seojun knows who you are. 

After your father was killed, your granddad went to great lengths to protect the rest of you, which included keeping your family information strictly secure – even now if you were to go down to a police station, they would have trouble finding much information on you except what you want them to know. Only someone who knows your family could know that it’s just you and her, because your mother’s medical records of her death following her cardiac arrest during early labour are completely unobtainable, as are your granddad’s after his pneumonia.

Looking out of the cafe window, you scan the streets and see no sign of Seojun anywhere. 

You need to call Yoongi. That’s the first thing you need to do and after that, you’ll look into Seojun. Your conversation with him and your grandma is still playing on your mind, even now as you rush down the streets to get to your car. 

As you brush past people, you accidentally bump into someone.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumble, looking towards the face of the guy you just bumped into.

He smiles, shaking his head as he pats your arm. “Don’t worry.”

Pursing your lips, you nod and smile before resuming your walk. Another twenty minutes later, you’re pulling up towards the gate of your home. Although it’s a modest sized house (still slightly larger than the average), your grandma insisted on your extra security.  

“Good evening, miss,” your guard, Dani, calls out, smiling and waving as she opens the gate from her station.

“Hey, Dani,” you smile, slowing the car down next to her to talk through the window. “Anything today?”

She jumps up onto the ledge, shaking her head. “Nope. A camera around the back picked up some movement just a little while ago but Siho checked it out, was nothing...”

You’re barely paying attention to her as your mind still wanders on Seojun.

“Uh, Y/N?”

“Huh?” you look at her, slightly startled.

Dani smiles. “Long day?”

“Something like that.” 

Her expression softens. “Make sure you eat well tonight, hm?”

“I will,” you nod. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Sure.” She waves you on as you drive further onto your property, parking in the driveway.

Dani and Siho are the guards you employed when your grandma told you to. They both have a past in the military but retired early for whatever reason (they don’t talk about it much and you don’t ask). In truth, you’re very grateful to them – some nights it’s easier to sleep knowing they’re helping to look out for you.

Grabbing your purse from the passenger seat, you get out of your car and walk towards the house. 

Everything seems normal as you unlock the front door, entering the wide hallway downstairs – you have no reason to notice the drops of blood by the kitchen door – so you take your shoes off and hang your coat and bag in the cloakroom as you normally would before heading upstairs to your bedroom. 

But when you get to the top, you halt, noticing something. Far less obvious than droplets of blood, it’s the sight of your bedroom door left slightly open. You always close your bedroom door. It’s just a habit you’ve always had to close the door when you leave…

Immediately, your senses become more alert, your ears perking up for any noise in the house.  It’s odd, you don’t understand how anyone could’ve gotten into the house as long as Dani and Siho have been guarding the house. Unless, thinking back on the day, you know you have good reason to be on alert.

So you tread silently towards your room, kicking it open and—

Nothing. Your room is exactly as you left it this morning. You relax after checking a few possible hiding spots and finding them empty. But still, you know to be more cautious than this, so you take the handgun from the drawer in your nightstand and check all the other rooms. 

The metal feels light in your hand, even though you’ve never actually used this particular gun since Hyun-tae gave it to you on the night of the only break-in at the home in Namwon. You were only sixteen, wide-eyed and terrified when he told you to stay with your grandma and not come out until he came back. 

The gun was a last resort, of course you knew that the many men guarding the house would intercept whoever was threatening what was left of your family, but even then, it made you feel safer, more sure of yourself. Just as it does now while you walk through your house, alert for any movements.

Your body freezes as you spot the droplets of blood on the floor. 

Now that’s not your blood.

Muscle memory takes over as your thumb moves to cock the gun. Your heart beats harder in your chest, every sense on high alert as you silently stand behind the kitchen door. 

Holding your breath, you can make out the quiet sounds of heavy, laboured breathing… you inch slowly towards the edge as far as you can to peer in and see no one from where you are. 

Exhaling slowly, you count down to three before stepping into the kitchen, gun aimed as you quickly scan the kitchen and then you see the intruder, the aim of your gun following your sight.

Collapsed on the floor against your kitchen wall, a tall man holds his hand against his chest where a deep red stain spoils the white shirt of his suit. He looks up at you, face desperate yet determined.

“Don’t shoot, it’s me.”

Flicking on your kitchen light, you stare at him for a second until you recognise him… “Seojun?” A knot of uncertainty and fear tightens in the pit of your stomach.

Immediately you uncock your gun, rushing over to him. “What happened? Why are you here?” You reach for his wound to apply pressure but his bloodied hand closes around yours, stopping you. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

Looking up, you meet his gaze and the fear in his expression sends shivers down your spine despite you being confused. “Let me help you,” you say shakily, hands moving to his wound again.

Seojun weakly shakes his head, trying to reach for your arm again. “No, Y/N, you need to leave,” he says, voice firm despite his severe injury.

“You need an ambulance,” you say, ignoring the slight tremble of your hands. “I’ll call an ambu—”

“No,” he interrupts, pulling on your hand again before crying out quickly from the quick movement. “Your guards,” he breathes, “they’ll keep you safe, Jimin will keep you safe, you need to go.”

The sound of him in pain sends panic rushing through you and yet he still seems adamant about what he’s saying. “W-what are you talking about?” your voice is still shaky as you ignore the firm hold of his hand on your wrist to keep pressure on him.

Seojun cries out quietly again but still fumbles for something in his suit jacket pocket. He pulls out a small black flash drive, thrusting it into your chest. “Give this to Jimin, tell him to use it.”

Eyes wide, you take the flash drive from him and slip it into your back jean pocket.

“You can’t let anyone else get it,” he continues, breathing hard as he winces in pain. “No one except him.”

“Okay,” you nod, squeezing his palm gently to reassure him although your mind is still stuck on trying to process the bleeding man in your kitchen to even take in what he’s saying. “I promise, now let me call you an ambulance—”

“There’s no time, I’m sorry, they’re coming,” he says, desperately now. “I won’t be able to help you.”

“Seojun, what—“

The sound of a window being smashed at the front of your house cuts the words off in your throat and Seojun’s hand tightens around your wrist. 

“Y/N,” he says, voice firmer and louder than before. “Go.” 

You look back at him, heart pounding frantically in your chest as you hear multiple voices coming from somewhere in your house. Seojun starts to stand up, using you to help him. 

He’s leaning against the wall, the fatal wound to his chest forgotten as he pulls his gun out and grasps you tightly around the arm. “Now.”

The voices outside get louder, and there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you to listen to Seojun – you need to go. 

Closing your fingers around your own gun again, you nod, pushing down the part of you that wants to stay with Seojun. He’s injured and you know if he doesn’t get help now he’s going to bleed out. However, you also know a fatal wound when you see one, and so does Seojun.

He’s filling the barrel of his gun with bullets as the voices get louder and you know that he’s about to buy you the time you need to get away. Because of that, you do as he asks.

Blinking back tears, you step away from him and towards the back door of the kitchen while cocking your gun again. Before you even get there, the kitchen window is being smashed in and you coil instinctively to avoid the flying shards of glass.

From somewhere behind you, you hear Seojun yell your name but you’re now focused on the man who’s standing ahead of you with a hammer in his hand. Gun raised, you shoot at him but he darts sideways before swinging his arm towards you with the hammer.

He misses you by an inch as you duck and aim your gun at him again. But before you can shoot, he grabs the gun and tugs hard, pulling you into his body. With a loud grunt, he raises the hammer and gets ready to take another swing at you, except the sound of three shots firing pierce the air and his body falls to the floor beside you.

Head turning around wildly, you see Seojun still leaning against the wall with his gun aimed towards you. He just saved your life. Before you can even get the words out to thank him, two more men jump through the kitchen window and the voices from out in the hallway show their  faces.

There’s half a dozen of them in total and you have no way out now. Seojun pulls on your hand to keep you close to him and it dawns on you now that this isn’t like anything you’re used to – these men are trained fighters, not just some lousy guards put out to watch a warehouse or defend a shipment of weapons. You’ve trained since a young age too, so you know you could at least fight them one on one, but this is different. These men are dangerous and you have no doubt that they’re the ones who put the fatal bullet into Seojun.

As you look around at them, you find yourself staring at one of them… he looks familiar and it suddenly returns to you that he’s the man who bumped into you outside your cafe–

“Y/N,” Seojun whispers harshly, “help is coming so run as soon as you get the chance, okay?”

You nod subtly, watching as the men part for one of them, undoubtedly their leader, to step closer. He’s a tall man, butch and quite frankly, frightening. His eyes are focused on Seojun and his upper lip curls as he sneers.

 “...All of that, for nothing.” His voice is emotionless and laced with wickedness, as he seems to delight in seeing life leaving the once healthy body in front of him.

“Oh shut up, Minjun,” Seojun gets out breathlessly, grimacing in pain as he does. 

Minjun laughs hollowly, coming closer still. “I’d love to see Park’s reaction to this, his favourite little pup won’t be crawling back to him tonight.”

Your hand tightens around your pistol but you remain still – even you aren’t stupid enough to think you can shoot this man without receiving multiple bullets in return.

“Just shoot me then,” Seojun mutters, shifting on his feet as he struggles to stay standing.

Minjun scoffs amusedly. “Not just yet. I’ve got questions for you first…” He looks your way and an icy shiver runs down your spine. “Who’s this?”

“I don’t know, this is the first house I found for shelter,” Seojun answers, his voice laced with desperation. “Just take me, she’s innocent.” 

Minjun pauses, his eyes lowering to the gun in your hand. “Innocent?” 

“Yes, she knows nothing.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Minjun says as he walks forward again, closing the distance.

“Minjun,” Seojun says, voice raised. “I’m here, I know everything you want to know, not her–”

As though an invisible fuse has been cut, Minjun loses his temper and throws a heavy punch to Seojun’s jaw, flooring him instantly. 

“Seojun,” you gasp, kneeling beside him as a raspy groan escapes him. Fear travels through your body in waves as you see blood beginning to pool out from beside him.

When you meet his gaze, there’s a distant glassiness to his eyes which stand out against his pale, clammy skin. 

You’ve been in plenty of fist fights before, you’ve been in real danger and have had to fight your way out of it, but this – being someone you care about – this is something entirely new to you and for the first time in a long time, you’re frightened. 

“She knows nothing, hm?” Minjun scoffs. “She clearly knows you.”

Reaching out for Seojun’s hand, you look at the man towering above you, ready to beg. “Please–”

“Y/N!” Siho’s familiar voice fills the air and you freeze.

She appears at the kitchen door, glock raised as she looks around wildly at all the men who are pointing their own right back at her. She clearly wasn’t expecting anything like this and her eyes find you and she looks at you fearfully. “What–”

“Siho, go,” your voice trembles as you call out to her, but it’s too late. Two shots pierce through the air and you watch as your friend drops dead to the floor in front of you. 

A hollowness fills your chest. “No,” you whisper, mindlessly releasing Seojun’s hand to move to her but before you can get anywhere, Minjun is kicking you hard in the chest and you get pushed back to the wall. Only now do you realise how hard you’re breathing, the shaky breaths causing your shoulders to rise as you feel your back sink against the wall. 

“Something you should know,” he says slowly, inspecting the shaft of his gun as he crouches in front of you almost mockingly after he just shot your friend, before he looks right at you. “I don't like being interrupted. Now, tell me who you are, and don’t lie.”

Minjun’s gaze is terrifying and intense; you can’t bring yourself to look at him so you close your eyes and turn your head away from him.

But he doesn’t take well to that so he draws his hand back and it lands on your face with a sharp sting.

Despite being afraid, you manage to turn your head towards him and goosebumps prickle your skin when he stares at you. 

His face is marred with deep lines and red marks, some fresh and some old. Half of one brow looks as though it’s been burnt off and his nose is so deformed it looks as though it has been broken over and over. 

“Answer me,” he growls with a piercing stare.

Before you can even answer, you hear the sound of a gun cocking next to you. Seojun has his gun aimed at Minjun but he’s lost too much blood, his mind disorientated as he tries to press the trigger.

“Ha!” Minjun laughs, effortlessly taking the gun free from his hand. “What an idiot.” He shakes his head, looking down at the gun before shrugging and pulling the trigger. 

“No!” you cry, body jerking backwards as you become paralysed at the sight of Seojun’s body going limp, his eyes becoming lifeless as his head rolls to the side and he moves no more. A choked sob escapes your throat but you don't even have a second to process it.

“Come here, darling.” Minjun places his hand on your shoulder gently. His other hand rests on your face and you shudder when you feel the callused thumb swipe the tears off your cheeks. “Look at me.” He speaks softly but you know better than to fall for that.

His finger hooks under your chin and he lifts your head up to make you look at him. When your eyes meet his, you freeze.

“Just tell me what you know, sweetheart, and we’ll let you go,” he coaxes, nodding his head with a malicious grin on his face. 

“I–I don’t know any-anything. Plea–“

Mjnjun’s fist crashes into your face as your body involuntarily jerks towards the floor. 

Pain sears through you, blinding you and all you can do is gasp from shock, feeling blood trickle down your skin. 

“I told you not to lie,” Minjun growls, dragging you up by your shoulders. You have no strength left to lift yourself or even try to resist, not that you would. 

“Now tell me, what do you know?” 

He shakes you violently as he speaks but you don’t respond, still adjusting to the pain which only worsens as the salty tears silently stream down your face. Now your breaths are uneven and with each draw, you feel more suffocated, unable to even think past the image of Seojun’s lifeless body. 

Your silence serves as an answer for Minjun. He punches you straight in the ribs and watches emotionless as you keel over in pain. A cry escapes you, though you don’t feel it – your mind feels like a completely separate entity from your body. 

So when you hear the sound of feet scuffling and Dani’s voice crying out your name, you can only stay hunched over on the floor.

“Caught her trying to contact someone, boss,” one of the men holding her says gruffly, tossing her phone to Minjun. 

Dani looks across the room, her eyes doubling back to where Siho lies dead in a pool of her own blood. You can see the fear and regret in her eyes as she meets your gaze. “I’m sorry,” she mouths.

You don’t have time to do anything before Minjun gives a curt nod in the direction of the door, and then she’s being dragged away from you by four guards needed to restrain her. Seconds later, a single shot sounds. 

It leaves you feeling numb, unable to do anything as Minjun drags you to your feet by your collar. 

“Two guards and this one…” he kicks Seojun. “You’re clearly someone. What’s your name?” he hisses, his patience clearly having run out long ago – the three dead bodies in your home prove that.

Words don’t leave your mouth and your gaze falls helplessly to Siho’s body. Tears well in your eyes and a harsh sob escapes from your throat.  

“Fucking useless,” Minjun muttters, pushing you against the wall. “Search her,” he commands one of his men beside him.

At this point, you don’t even remember the little device in your pocket. You’re simply numb from everything that’s happened in the last ten minutes and when your eyes land on Seojun’s body and his glassy orbs staring emptily at the floor, you just want to scream.

But you don’t. You physically can’t. 

Hands pat you down, starting along your arms, slipping inside your shirt to feel under your arms, around your back, groping your chest, all around your abdomen, and up and down your legs. You remain entirely helpless as they do so. 

Then they start searching your pockets.

… Your gaze moves to the door, where Dani lies outside.

First your cardigan pockets. Empty.

… Across from you is Siho, the glock she was going to use to save you resting ahead of her.

Then your front jeans pockets. Empty. 

… Your head turns, meeting the vacant gaze of Seojun – you feel your stomach flip and a spark of indignation catches in your throat. Subconsciously, your fists curl.

Then your back jeans pockets. A hand pulls out the small black device and he holds it up in front of him, directly between you and Minjun who raises his brow in mock amusement.

“What a pretty little liar you are?” he snickers, stepping closer to take the flash drive in his hands. 

You don’t respond, but collapse to the floor as the men let go of you. From fear? Exhaustion? Grief? You don’t know. 

Then Minjun comes towards you, pulling a small knife from his back pocket. “You just wasted my time, beautiful…” He grabs you by your throat and pulls you up to your feet. 

The feeling of his strong hand pressing into your larynx returns you to your senses as the real threat of being killed looms over you. 

Minjun trails the sharp edge of the knife along your cheek, down towards your neck. He leans forward and speaks low. “I don‘t take well to that…” The stench of him fills your nostrils, and the knife presses against your skin. One more glance at Seojun, and suddenly, you snap.

Your knee comes up hard and you grab a hold of Minjun’s wrist, yanking it back with all your strength to twist his body in front of you. 

“Sir!” 

The voices of his men shouting drown out his low groans as he now stands, disarmed and held in a tight lock in front of you. You're holding him by his arm twisted backwards around his back and your other hand grabs the gun at his waist, a SIG Sauer pistol – it feels secure in your hand and you press the barrel to Minjun’s head. Adrenaline starts to surge through you as your mind races, completely forgetting about Minjun’s other hand hanging free at his side.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot him,” you warn his men, backing up towards the window.  

Minjun chuckles a low chuckle. “Will you now?”

“Yes,” you answer through gritted teeth, moving back with him towards the back door. 

“Liar.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you hiss, anger swelling in your chest.

Minjun laughs again, coming to a stop despite your grip on him. “You think you’re smart, don’t you? I know you won’t do it.”

“Oh yeah?” Fingers digging tightly into his skin, you drag his head back and shoot him straight in the calf. “You don’t know shit about me.”

Minjun falls to his knees, a string of swear words leaving his mouth and his weight pulls you down with him. “Your first mistake was fucking lying to me,” he heaves, fingers grabbing your jaw tightly. 

A sharp pain shoots down your wrist. You cry out as Minjun’s blade cuts through your skin, the gun almost dropping from your hand as you grab your bleeding wrist.

He tries to retrieve the gun, struggling to get back to his feet but you step back just in time.

“You’re lucky I can’t kill you right here,” Minjun snarls, facing you as he pushes away the guards who try to help him up. “But once Lee is done with you, I swear I’m going to fucki–“

Bang. 

“FUCK!” Minjun staggers, falling backwards with his hand pressed against his shoulder, very close to his chest where blood spreads staining his white shirt crimson. 

Another shot sounds and one of Minjun’s men goes down. Then another, and another. 

“Park,” Minjun growls, pure rage flashing in his eyes. “I’ll fucking kill you!” Despite the two wounds to his shoulder and leg, he gets up and grabs a gun from the closest man. “What the fuck are you waiting for?!” he yells. “Shoot the bastards!”

Within a second, the air is filled with the sounds of shots firing and you drop to the ground, crawling as fast as you can out of the way. Their shots are returned from outside but the majority of your house is surrounded entirely by trees so you can’t see where they’re coming from. 

As you go, you spot the flash drive on the floor and Seojun’s face comes to mind. He died for whatever is on there. Reaching out, you grab the device without a second's hesitation. When you get behind the kitchen island, you quickly stuff the drive in your pocket. Pain still shoots down your arm and there’s blood dripping from you, staining the tiles. When you look up, you realise there’s blood everywhere.

“Show me your fucking face, Park!” Minjun rages, shooting all over the place, but he’s also bleeding heavily now, the front of his shirt rapidly being dyed red. His men are dying all around him as they shoot aimlessly out the window and you snatch a gun from the closest one, looking up just in time to see the last man fall. There’s only you and Minjun left.

He curses as the last man goes down, head whipping towards you. Drawing a pocket knife out from his waist, he lunges towards you but you slide backwards on the floor, aiming the gun at his head.

“Don’t,” you warn breathlessly.

His upper lip curls. “Fucking bitch.” He holds his gun up to you. “You’re useless to me.”

There’s no question that he’s about to shoot and you’re ready to do the same, but before that can happen, three men dressed in all black suits come barging into your kitchen and another two through the window. 

Minjun shouts in frustration, shooting at you which you narrowly avoid by sliding behind the kitchen island. As you go, you see the tallest of the three men disarm Minjun with ease. 

“You’re too late,” Minjun says, voice low as he turns around.

One of them steps forward, a man whose features look incredibly familiar to you. 

He aims his gun straight at Minjun’s head. The look on his face is fierce and his gaze is steady. “Where is he?”

Minjun laughs weakly, the energy slowly draining from his body. 

The man’s jaw tenses and he kicks Minjun's knee out from beneath him. His movements are sharp, agile — it’s clear to you that he’s done this many times before. 

Minjun falls to his knees, his laugh subsiding into a weak raspy breath. He looks up with no fear and no remorse. “I told you, you’re too late.” He looks in the direction of Seojun’s body, and the man’s gaze follows.

His mouth twitches and you can see the grief that fills his face as he stares at the body, but it only takes a few seconds for it to change into unmistakable anger. In a split second, his arm is raised and he shoots Minjun in his thigh.

At first, Minjun cries out, falling to his side as blood pools from him rapidly. Then he laughs remorselessly like a madman. “Which of your boys will be next, Park?”

Familiarity hits you there and then – Park Jimin. As you watch him step towards Minjun, you realise how different this man looks from the young boy you once played tag with in your home.

Jimin doesn’t miss his mark as he throws a hard punch across Minjun’s face, nor does he wait a second before punching him again… and again… and again. Your stomach turns as Minjun still laughs between each throw, almost taunting Jimin to keep going, even when he’s choking on his own blood. 

Gathering a fistful of hair, Jimin pulls Minjun’s head back and pulls out his gun. He holds it to his head.

Minjun coughs, blood spattering Jimin’s crisp white shirt. “Do it,” he rasps. “An eye for an eye, eh, Park?” Minjun chuckles, the sound getting lost as he coughs weakly again. 

Jimin however, goes incredibly still, gaze piercing into Minjun. 

“Your old man knew more than you ever will–” he coughs again, breaths slowing down– “it’s taking you too long to learn, boy. The Lee’s will come for every fucking person you care about, make you watch as they bleed out in front of ya,” he sneers, licking blood off his lips. “Then they’ll kill you like it’s nothing.”

Of the many emotions showing on Jimin’s face, fear isn’t one of them.

Unnervingly calm, Jimin speaks. “I’m not going to kill you.” Tracing the barrel of his gun down Minjun’s cheek, he pushes it under his throat. “No, that would be too easy.” 

Jimin holds out his gun and with immediate understanding, one of his men, with dark curls steps forward and takes the gun and place a small Gerber knife in his hand instead.

Grip tightening on on his hair, Jimin lifts the man and turns his head in the direction of Seojun, ignoring the grunts of pain from him. Looking away from Seojun, Jimin keeps Minjun’s head facing that way as he speaks.  “You don’t deserve an easy way out.” Slowly, he pushes the knife into Minjun’s shoulder and twists.

Minjun tries to keep down the pain but fails to do so, falling to his knees again.

“See?” Jimin looks down, eyes deadly focused on Minjun. “Just like this.” He twists deeper. “I’m going to cut you apart, and then piece you back together. And I’ll do it over and over.”

“Then what?” Minjun rasps.

Jimin pulls the knife out, throwing it to the floor in front of Minjun. Blood splatters on the tiles and Minjun’s head lowers. 

“You’ll see.”

With another wordless gesture, the two tallest men drag Minjun away somewhere and out of sight.

Once they’ve left, the room is silent aside from Jimin’s slow steady breaths. His gaze travels towards where Seojun’s body lies and you watch him carefully as he walks across the room, dropping his gun to the floor to kneel beside Seojun. 

Jimin’s expression softens and he gently takes Seojun’s hand into his own, and just like that, you’re reminded of the boy you once knew. He brings the back of Seojun’s palm to his mouth and he places a kiss on his skin. As he lowers his hand to rest over his chest, his round eyes water, but he blinks once and it’s gone. 

“Jimin.” One of his men, a tall, slender man with chestnut hair, calls his name. When Jimin looks at him, his gaze immediately lands on you.

You instinctively rise at the same time he does, raising the gun you hold in your hand. 

Yes, you knew Jimin once, but many years have passed and you’d be stupid not to be wary.

“Don’t come near me.” You swallow hard, having to press your back against the wall as you feel incredibly weak, but you can’t let this show.

Jimin says nothing as he takes a small step, eyes locking with yours and for a split second you almost lower your gun when you see something familiar in those brown eyes of his. 

Then one of his other men, a well built man with long dark curls held back in a bun, draws your attention. “Miss,” he says politely. “We just want to help.”

“I don’t need your help, just get out of my house.” Your voice tightens as you look at Siho’s body. You force your gaze away.

Jimin takes another step, watching you carefully. “You…” he murmurs, hesitating as a soft frown appears on his face before he shakes his head once. “Why did Seojun come here?” He asks, voice softer than when he spoke with Minjun, but the question is enough to anger you and you stare at him in bewilderment.

Pushing off the wall, you walk towards him and a loud click echoes in the room as you release the safety with your thumb.

In return, three guns are cocked and aimed at you. 

Jimin, however, doesn’t even blink. 

“Put the gun down, miss.” The same man addresses you calmly with his finger hovering over the trigger, glancing between Jimin and you. 

Now it’s you who doesn’t falter. “I don’t know why Seojun came here,” you say calmly, “and I don’t know who those men were. I’ve only ever spoken to him a few times and he never told me anything about himself. I know nothing.”

Admittedly, that’s a lie, but until you have more answers yourself, you’re not saying anything.

Jimin is quiet but his gaze is steady. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t,” you answer quietly. “But it’s my word or nothing.”

A beat of silence passes and it feels like an eternity. Your gun remains aimed at Jimin and his men hold theirs up to you, but you know they won’t shoot – there’s something sure in Jimin’s gaze as you both stand there in the middle of the room staring at each other, something that tells you you’re safe. 

He doesn’t say anything at all as he looks past the barrel of your gun to hold your gaze, and for a moment you wonder if he recognises you just like you’ve recognised him, but it can’t be. 

In the years since your father died, your grandma has done everything to protect you, including changing your surname and moving towns. Jimin, however, had a foot in the limelight for as long as his father was alive which is why you still manage to recognise the grown man before you. 

Just as you begin to feel a wave of weakness pass over you again, Jimin looks at the man closest to him, a broad man with jet black hair. With the smallest shake of his head, his men stand down.

You let out a slow breath, lowering your own gun as Jimin turns back to you. 

He looks down at your wrist and the smallest wrinkle appears between his brow. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll be fine,” you mutter, hand closing over your throbbing wrist. 

“You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

You almost huff impatiently. “It’s not all mine.”

Jimin pauses to look down at your thigh. “You need someone to look at that–now.”

Confused, your eyes follow and your stomach coils when you see a gash on your thigh, the blood darkening the denim of your jeans. You don’t even know when that happened.

Clenching your fists, you look back up. “I said I'll be fine.”

Contrary to your words, when you turn away a little too quickly, everything blurs and spins. Just as everything starts to go dark, you stumble backwards and Jimin is moving towards you. 

The last thing you feel is warm hands closing around you, lowering you gently to the ground.

note. thank you so much for reading! please share your thoughts with me and if you have any questions ask awayyy! (especially as it only gets more intense :) the action should take a bit of a break though as we’re introduced to and learn more about the characters 😋 (also writing action is hard 😭)

[darkelixirr]

You're Mine. - Park Jimin

Just a little jealousy...

♡pairing: jealousy!jimin x fem!reader ♡rating: explicit!mature 18+ ♡genre: SMUT ♡wc: 1.3k

You and Jimin out with friends. Spending time with each other, laughing and enjoying the many conversations. He can't seem to keep his hands to himself. Always groping at your thighs, his hands going to where you need them the most.

"Jimin.. Please.." You whisper low enough for him to hear. A chuckle leaves his lips. You know he heard you, the grip on your thigh told you that. But he continued on his conversation with his friends. Ignoring the neediness in your voice.

You couldn't help but spread your legs, begging him silently to touch you. To ease the ache between your legs. You leaned back in your seat, a deep breath emitting from your lips as you squeezed your thighs together.

"So, how has it been?" You looked up, plastering a smile on your face.

"It's been g-good." Jimin tightened his grip on your thigh.

"We should hang out some time, together alone you know." You hummed, a tight smile on your face. You glanced over at Jimin. His face was stern, his eyes never leaving the boy in front of you. You placed your hand on his thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He let out a deep breath, straightening his posture.

You felt his hand move up your thigh, your skirt bunching up around his waist. You let out a shaky sigh. His fingers grazed over your exposed pussy, a smirk playing on his face.

"You're mine."

[raplinenthusiasts]

FLOWER BOYS 🌻

↳ 33/∞

(cr. namuspromised)

[vinetae]

______________________________________________________________

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Pairings: College Professor!Jimin x Student!Reader

Warnings: Angst. Sexual content, foul language, 18+ Confessions, vaginal fingering, (f.) masturbation, voyeurism, dom!Jimin, exabitionist themes, protective!Jimin. MENTIONS OF UNDERAGE RELATIONSHIPS.

Don't do that, yall. Ew.

Summary: You had asked your Psych professor for his signature in signing off your volunteer hours. Only a few weeks later, you two are caught at the same club.

Strip club to be exact.

Where you work, to be exact.

A/n: It's cheesy and late, but it's MINE. and I love these two.

And yes my baby fever peeped through at the end but we won't talk about that- 0_0

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Find my main masterlist here

Find part 1 - here

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“Okay..” You take in a deep breath, eyes flashing back and forth between the two options set out for you. Your hands graze over the black, a-line dress, watching as its silky fabric slips between your fingers. The material reminded you of a beautiful ocean. 

But that’s not the reason you bought it. 

It was half off at a thrift store. 

Well, because the fabrics were half off as well. 

Safe to say that the dress was in shambles. Actually, it took more money to repair it than just buying a new one. 

But you loved that dress. 

So, you kept working at it. 

Stitching every seam, heming every end, and flattening each piece until it had been perfected. 

Soon, you had the most beautifully hand-stitched (halfway) A-line dress to call your own. You’d used a little bit more saved money to really make the piece pop. 

You chuckle at the irony, throwing the other dress back into your closet. “Why am I even debating this?” 

Your arms slip through the sleeves, watching as the glittery clear sleeves hug your forearms beautifully. The sweetheart neckline dropped to your shoulders, giving more hints to your prominent features rather than to conceal them in heaps of cloth.

Of course, black was a little too…

“Ugh, basic.” You groan, throwing the dress into the hamper near your chair. Your eyes scan your messy dorm, looking for anything that could be more appropriate. After a few minutes of looking, shoving and -quite frankly, a few breakdowns- you’d finally seen the perfect outfit. 

______________________________________________________________

Music calmly strings in the background, as overly-dressed students and faculty members had flooded the large ballroom. Well, it wasn’t a ballroom to be exact. 

But it felt like something you’d see in a Disney movie, that’s for sure. 

You inhale quickly, before taking the ticket from the handler. You flash a quick smile before making your way through the crowd. Your eyes landed upon what had seemed like millions of name brands. Some Armani suits, Gucci ties and loafers, Louis Vuitton bags, and some names that looked too expensive to even try and pronounce. 

Your Walmart purchased cheap heels clack against the marbled floors, trying to make your way through the large crowds of the Rockefellers.

You’re just about through the swarm of rich bees before your body crashes into a tall figure. You groan, picking yourself off the floor, taking a glance up. Her powered and proper face had been oozing with anger and mascara. 

“Are you kidding me right now!?” Her hands swipes out to examine her dress. The purple and deep-cut mermaid figure had been ruined by a huge, red wine stain in the front. You quickly stand, bowing deeply, muttering millions of apologies. 

“I-I’m so sorry, ma’am-” She laughs out, a malicious look plastered on her Botoxed features. “You’re s-s-sorry?” Her laugh is high-pitched and loud. The commotion had called over a few other viewers to watch the scene. Your hands come to wipe your own dress, thankful that not much had spilled on it. 

“This was Dolce and Gabbana, you little shit! How are you gonna pay for it, huh?” 

Her voice sends shivers down your spine. Once you’re finally off the floor, you take a look at the mess. 

“It’s a dark dress…I’m sure you could just take a sharpie and-” Her banshee-like screech attracts more witnesses. 

“Sharpie!? The only thing you need a sharpie for is writing me that check!” Your eyes lift slightly, scanning the room as people crowded around the two of you. Hushed whispers and posh comments used words you didn’t even understand. Her sparkly silver heel taps against the floor, hand extended to you. 

“Well? Where’s my fucking money, huh?” Her eyes were sharp and narrow. The high of her cheekbones had given away that she was not from here.

“I’m waiting.” 

“You’ll be standing there for quite some time, Miss Alachua.” A deep voice cuts through the thick commotion as his hand comes down to pick your body up off the floor the rest of the way. Your eyes flash, taking notice of his gray-ish toned suit. The little yellow handkerchief stood tall in the chest pocket of the suit. Blonde streaks with fading pieces accentuate his whole aura. 

“Jimin.” Her voice softens to a light banter. Anger is still prominent, however. 

He flashes a short but sweet grin towards her, extending his arm to exchange something in hand. 

“Nice to see you too.” He comments, sucking in a tsk at her dress stain. His eyes glance to yours, head shaking from side to side gently. 

“Did you do this, Miss Choi?” He watches your throat swallow a thick lump, trying to respond. 

“It was an accident..” Your hands clasp to the front, embarrassment settling over the whole situation. 

On your end anyways. 

He quicks a smile before clearing his throat, pacing his way over to meet with the woman. “She said it was an accident.” 

Her arms across her chest, heel continuously tapping against the marbled, echoed flooring as she scoffs. “She’s still gonna have to pay for it.” 

Jimin’s eyebrow raises at her tone, as he sets a palm on her shoulder. “Did you pay for it, Miss Alachua?” Her eyes blow wide at the comment. 

He smirks, lowering his voice to where only you two could pick up. “Mmm, that’s the thing about using daddy’s money for your own purposes. So technically, you got his dress messy, isn’t that right?”

Her head slowly falls down, then back up nodding at his sentence. He backs away, clapping. 

“Perfect. Then, I’ll get Miss Choi to transfer the money over to his account.” Her mouth falls open, quickly trying to protest. “But I-” Jimin holds up a hand, silencing her. He reaches over to grab your wrist pulling you from the terror of the crowd. Once you’re in a quiet section of the ball room, you’re quick to tug on his sleeve. 

“Jimin I don-'' He shushes you, pressing a finger to your lips. “I’ve got quite a bit of information on her father.” His eyebrows tease, signaling to you something, but you couldn’t quite catch on. He chuckles, motioning for you to sit down next to him as he lowers his voice. His finger guides your eyes over to the corner, as you both see a couple leaning on the wall of the ball room, hands entwined together as his older body towers hers. 

Your eyes glance back to Jimin’s, watching the smirk on his corned lip. “What are we looking at?It’s just a couple.” 

He chuckles, leaning back against the chair, sipping from his champagne glass. “Just a couple?” You nod, not following his words. He inhales deeply, enjoying the classical music sounding in the background. 

“Yeah, she’s fifteen.” He laughs at your wide-eyed expression. His lips wrap around the glass’s rim, fogging the clear set with his warm breath. 

“Still ‘just a couple’?” He teases as you hit his side. His eyes narrow at your action. “Watch it, missy.” 

“Yeah? Why should I?” His eyes said one thing, but his tone said another. His finger lifts from the glass, pointing around to the room. “I’m your teacher right now.” He watches your eyes roll back at his words. 

“Oh really?” Your hips rise from the lowered sofa, leading the way through a few doorways. Like before, his feet follow in your guidance, like a puppy on an imaginary leash. He watches your heels step out of the exit door’s frame. Your hands run up the curves of your body, watching as his Adam's apple bobs up and down at the motion. Your hair blows in the night’s chilly winds, with little to no one around the two of you. 

Your feet plant themselves right at the entrance outside the building, as they keep themselves on the marbled floor’s inside. “What are you doing..” His voice lowers, eyes glancing around to take notice of no one’s presence. 

Your hands lift up to pull the hem of your off-shoulder neckline down, revealing the top of one of your breasts. His jaw tightens at the sight. 

“Y/n..” 

Your smirk edges him on. “It’s Miss Choi, Mister Park.” 

Your back hits the brick wall, finger trailing down the plains of your body to toy with your hemmed skirt. You lift the fabric up a bit, revealing a slimmer of your black laced underwear. His voice thickens at the sight, hands fisting at his sides. 

“Y/n.” The tone is commanding, yet you still toy on. 

“What? You’re my teacher, Mister Park.” His throat lets out a slight groan, chuckling at the irony of it all. “This is fucked up, Y/n.” 

Your lips curl into an innocent smile as you lift the option of your leg up, revealing more of your underwear’s thin fabric. “I’m just a student, trying to enjoy a little time to myself..” Your fingers toy with the hem of your panties before dipping in slightly. Your head rolls back against the brick wall, lips parting at the sensation. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/n.” His teeth clench at the sight. Your back arches, lifting away from the wall, your hand stuffed between the fabrics of your laced underwear. Your eyelids lift slightly, taking a glance at him before continuing. 

“Ah, feels so good..” You moan out, free hand scooping more of your puffed tea-length dress to reveal the glorious sight. He watches as your knuckles quickly turn white at the pressure. His voice can finally be heard. 

“Fucking minx.” Your teasing smirk only edges him as his feet step out the door. His body pressed against yours, quick to wrap his palm around your wrist to remove your hands from between your panties. “You wanna this game, baby?” Your arms try to wrap around his neck, but he’s too quick to pull away, not letting you touch him like you wanted. His task sends shivers up your spine. 

“My rules.” 

His hand grips yours, pulling you from the wall to lead you to the parking lot. His hand pulls from his pocket, clicking the unlock button on his car shaped fob. 

“T-This is your car?” He smirks, opening the door for you to slip in. 

“Ladies first.” 

Once you’re both settled in, he cranks the car, letting the engine run for a few seconds before pulling out of the parking lot. His hands clasp in the front, trying not to refrain from touching anything. He chuckles at your stiff body, hand coming to rub on the inner of your thigh. Your body straightens at the touch, mouth parting in agony at the feeling. His eyes glance over before removing his hand. You silently groan, breath heaving up and down from the frustration. 

“How much does the school pay you?” You question, looking around to notice the intricate details and emblems designed in the leather. His eyes flash to your movements before focusing back on the road. “Is that any of your concern?” You huff at his answer. 

The car suddenly speeds up, as your body sinks back into the seat. His hand clutches the stick, shifting gears faster than you could say ‘peanut butter’.

Soon, your body is following the curves of the road as your body is jerked around from left to right, as his body is completely still through all of the roller coaster turns. 

“Jesus, Jimin!” You yelp, gripping onto the handle on the door’s side. He chuckles, as the car comes to a sharp yet smooth stop. If you’d been breathing heavily earlier, you were possibly having a heart attack right about now!’

His seatbelt clicks undone, as he reaches over to undone yours. Once you’ve gotten your land legs, he helps you steady yourself in your seat. Your hair is a mess, and your dress is riding up your thighs. He takes notice of the exposed skin, smirking. 

“So, you like?” He asks, watching as you try pulling your soul back into your body. He chuckles at your distorted figure, stumbling to grip onto reality. 

“F-fucking fast-” You groan out, feeling a little sick from the rush. He nods, waiting patiently for the white to fade from your complexion. 

“Yeah, the first time I test drove it, I almost threw up.” He chuckles, remembering the day that seemed so recent. “I’ve had her for about two years now.” You groan, eyes rolling at his comment. “Her?” 

He nods, laughing at your messied self. “Why? Jealous?~” He teases, poking your cheek. Your head shakes, huffing in annoyance. “Why would I be jealous of a car?” His hand cards through the blonde locks, as a sheet of glimmer rises off his skin. 

“Don’t know.” His elbow rests on the middle console, a teasing innocent look paints his expression. “Why are you jealous of a car?” That makes you scoff. 

‘I’m not jealous of your stupid car.” He faints a pained expression, rubbing the steering wheel gently. “It���s okay baby, she didn’t mean it.” His voice makes you burst out laughing.

“Hey, don’t make fun of Nova.” You watch a simple, child-like expression peak behind his commanding demeanor. You laugh at his demand. “You named her?” 

“Well of course I did. Everybody names their car.” You scoff lightly, taking a peek out the window. The dark knight had disguised the road’s wavy ways. 

Wait.

Waves?

Your head cranes to the side, giving Jimin a certain glance. “Are we at the beach?” 

He nods, pointing out the front window. “You couldn’t tell?” 

“Yeah well I kinda was busy trying to hold down my lunch.” He chuckles before popping the driver door open. A few seconds later, he’s on your side. You watch as the door pops open softly, his hand extends out to offer help. You slide your hand into his palm, as he leads the way down a flight of wooden stairs. 

“Are you avoiding having sex with me?” He pauses at your comment, tilting his head to the side before flashing a quick smirk. “Who said we’re not having sex?” 

That sends butterflies to your stomach.

Your arm wraps around his, as you two walk in sync, head resting on his broad shoulder. He chuckles, swinging your entwined hands together to an imaginary beat only the two of you could hear. 

“This seems like a good spot.” He stops walking, laying the blanket down on the sandy beach as you take a look around, noticing the moon’s reflection shining brightly on the water’s clear surface. His hand reaches up to pull you down, settling you down right next to him. He leans back, arms supporting his body from behind as he takes in a deep breath. 

“I’ve always hated those events anyways.” His head tilts, flashing you a quick smile. You nod, admiring the cute little seashells along the blanket’s hem. You lay flat on your stomach, watching as the sand falls between your fingers as you try to dig for more shells. His soft laugh hatches more butterflies in the pit of your stomach. 

“Have you never seen shells before?” He asks, laying down on his stomach next to you. 

“Never been to the beach really..” You sigh, fixing yourself to prop your head up on your two palms. He smiles, lightly petting the crown of your head. Your loose bun had fallen long ago, right as the party had begun. His fingers trail along the curves of your spine, listening to your breath pitch in tone at his touch. 

“Do you like it?” His voice lowers, soft whispers brush against the shell of your ear. You nod, moaning quietly at the sensation. “Feels good..” You hear his chest let out a sharp chuckle. 

“I meant the beach, sweetie.” You quickly sit up, half-heartedly remembering where you were. You nod. “Yeah.. I do.” He smiles, brushing a few of your strands of hair from vision. You huff, leaning closer to meet his gaze as his hand trails up your outer arm. “You drag shit out too much..” He laughs. 

“I told you, I’m a gentleman.” You groan, scooting closer to his body, toying with the fabric of his tie like before. “But I don’t want a gentleman..” 

“But you need one.” Your eyes widen at the blow. 

“I need one?” He nods, humming. 

“What I mean, is that you’re too good for an asshole like the guys you work for.” You scoff, feeling the way his fingertips graze the dip of your collarbone. “I worked for you.” 

“Mmm, I’m an exception.” 

Your eyes roll at his cockiness. “High and mighty, are we?” He smirks, combating your tease. 

“Horny and impatient, are we?” You punch his arm lightly, making a few laughs escape from his chest. 

“I’m only still horny because you haven’t fucked me.” He shakes his head, laughing as he caresses your cute, chubby cheeks. 

“You don’t get the whole point of this, do you?” Your head shakes, as he sighs. “And you’re trying to get a psych degree? Psh.” You huff, crossing your arms at his comment. He smiles, leaning closer to your face, lips brushing the pads of your gently as he continues.

“You’re too impatient.” 

“I am.” 

He lets out a short chuckle, laying back on the blanket. Arms slipped under his head to support it. His breath is calmed and controlled. Opposite of yours. 

“Just enjoy this.” He sighs, taking in a deep breath of the salty air, closing his eyes softly. 

“I didn’t come all the way here to enjoy the pretty view.” His eyes peak open as a smirk presses his lips. “Really? Cause I did.” You’re quick to catch onto the little tease, making your cheeks flush red. Luckily, he couldn’t see the tint that well from lack of lighting. You groan, lightly hitting his chest against as he lets out a fake pained cough. 

“Owch.” He smirks, pulling you down to his level. You huff before throwing your leg over to straddle his lap. His eyebrows quirk at the sight. Hands come to toy with your hips, steadying you on his lower torso. “Alright, you’ve been your little gentleman long enough.” He lets out a breathy laugh, eyes creasing at the joint. 

“That’s not really your decision, now is it?” Your hips roll against his, yet you feel no sign of-

Anything. 

Groaning you roll off of his lap, sitting next to his sprawled out body. “Why don’t you wanna fuck me?!” He sighs, rising up to plant his hands behind his torso to prop himself up. 

“You’re right. I don’t want to fuck you.” You felt tears welling in your eyes. Your arm comes to hit him once more before sobs start leaving your lips. 

“Am I not pretty enough!? What! Do you like older women!? Huh! Tell me, fucking asshole!” His hands catch your wrists, stopping you from hitting him anymore. 

“Baby calm down.” His voice softens, as his arms wrap around your frame, holding you close to his body. Your eyes well with tears, a few slipping down from your cheeks as your struggles and throws start to become soft nudges instead. His hand guides your chin to meet his softened gaze. 

“You done now?” You sniff harshly, nodding. His smile makes you wanna knock his porcelain front white teeth out. 

“I’ve said it before. I don’t want to fuck you.” You push him away from your body, releasing yourself from his arms. “Then why not just take me home, huh? I’m don-” 

“Sweetheart, I want to make love to you.” Your eyes start to clear, now staring into his. “W..What?” His warm smile pulls you back in as he wraps you into his embrace once more. You’re slotted between his thighs, leaning back on his chest as his chin props itself on the crown of your head. 

“I wanna hold you like this..” He leans his head down, pressing his plush lips to your reddened cheek. “And kiss you like this..” you sniff, giggling at his cheesiness. You twist your torso to meet his gaze. 

“You don’t hate me..?” He chuckles, pecking your lips softly. “Why would I hate you?” You shrug gently, turning your attention back to the waves crashing upon the shore. 

You hadn’t really had a moment like this. You’d lost your virginity back in high school to one of the quarterbacks as a dare, and after graduation, you never really dated anymore after that. Only a few sleepovers that ended with the morning after pill. 

“I don’t want to just have sex with you, Y/n.” He coos, thumbing the tears from your stained cheeks. “I want stuff like this.” Your head leans back some more to nuzzle his chest. 

“I wanna wake you up with breakfast on the weekends.. And stay in bed all day, just cuddling like this.” Now, tears have been slipping from your ducts for a different reason. 

“How long..?” Your rosy cheeks burn with intensity as his hand comes to caress your softened jawline. 

“What do you mean?” His voice soothes the ache in your flushed face. Plump and soft lips brush the side of your ear, pressing a gentle kiss as you feel the rolls of his warm breath graze your heated skin. 

“How long have you.. You know..” He chuckles softly, pulling you head to tuck it under his chin. Your ear presses against his chest, hearing his calmed and patterned beating heart. The ocean’s salty taste leaves a bittersweet sting in your nose. Seagulls and other little creatures fill the silence, along with rolls of the waves crashing upon the drawn shores. 

His eyes narrow yours as a breath rolls from his lips. “Does it really matter?” 

You let out a soft giggle, snuggling closer to his warmth. His heartbeat matches the same patterns as yours, syncing with a light feeling. A brisk and colorful tone breaks your silence. 

“Y/n..” 

Your eyes glance up, meeting his own. His irises reflect the moon’s rays, similar to the ocean’s own surface. Specks of gold and white hues float behind his eyes. The once one-colored cast had been illuminated, showing millions of broken fragments. His nose scrunches at your rosy cheeks, nuzzling the tip into your neck. He sends you into a fit of giggles, as you hear the light sound of rhythm flowing through the atmosphere. 

“What’s that?” You question, head peeking up from curiosity. He shrugs before pointing over the horizon. “Look.” 

Your eyes squint, noticing a small, floating speck on the distant waters. The red and white colors clear as you notice the shape of a boat being formed. 

“It’s the ferry..” You observe, watching as the miniature piece floats by the two of you. He smiles, nodding. A few minutes go by before he comments. “Do you wanna go on a cruise?” 

“Huh?” Your head twists around, laughing at the idea. 

He smiles, shaking his head to pull you right back down into the safety of his arms. “Not right now. I mean, would you like to one day?” You hesitate, before nodding quietly. 

“My dad wanted to buy a boat..” You sigh calmly, entwining your fingers to play with his. His baby-like breaths make your heart swell. 

“Me too. It’d be nice, you know?” He leans back until you’re both almost completely on your backs, you still being tucked snuggly between his legs. 

“Really? What’d you name it?” You spin around, flashing your glassy eyes up to look at him. He giggles slightly, a red tint peaking through on his cheeks. 

“I don’t know. Don’t even know if I even want a boat yet. It was just an idea.” You hum, feeling the way his chest rises and falls with each breath he takes. Your lips ghost his own, arms coming to coil around the base of his neck. Your leg is now positioned over his waist, but no longer emitting the eager and rushed spirit you’d onced forced. 

This had felt calm and-

“Patient.” Your lips fall open at the realization. A smile paints his lips. 

“You’ve finally got it.” Your lips tug into a grin at the word, testing it more on your tongue a few more times. He laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist to steady yourself on his lap. 

Your voice lowers, whispering into the shell of his ear. “I’m still kind of horny though..” He chuckles, reaching down to grip your thighs to pull you more up onto his body. 

“Mmm, wanna fuck?” He asks, feeling the way your hips shift over his. Your head shakes. 

“Nope.” 

“No?” 

Your lips ghost his jawline, hands coming to tug at the button on his white formal shirt. You could feel the way his heart paces at your touch. A sheet of sweat barely visible on the surface of his skin. 

“Touch me.” His chest rumbles as a low groan rolls from his lips. Your hands lower to bring his palms up to the round of your clothed breasts, guiding his hands to knead at the plush skin. 

“Oh fuck..” He groans out, palming at the soft mound while your hand slips into the fabric of his trousers. Hand brushing along the outline of his hardening cock, slipping between the two fabrics to wrap your hand around the base. He groans, lips sucking on the thin sheet of skin on the side of your neck. Blue and purple splotches bruise around the sensitive skin. 

His hand comes down to trail the soft of your tummy, following the invisible line that draws to your center. His fingers mimic yours, slipping between the fabric of your thin laced panties. You moan out, immediately lifting your hips for him to easily remove them. He chuckles, keeping his touch right above your pubic line. 

“So needy.” He spits, flipping the two of you over. He hovers over your frame, tall and broad shoulders tower your figure as he smirks. Silently, his hand removes yours from between his legs, before lowering further, lifting the skirt of your dress over his head. 

“Jimin what are yo- Oh fuck..” You moan out, feeling the way his tongue presses flat against your sopping core. He chuckles, thumb curling around the thin material, watching as it pops against your skin. 

“You were so quick to try and suck me off, baby.” His head raises up, finger trailing the outside of your clothed panties. “Why?” 

Your head lulls back, hips pushing up to try and feel more of his touch. “Mmm- I wanted to make you feel good..” 

He smirks, reaching to the flesh of your thighs, jerking you down to meet his leveled face. 

“Mmm, I’d much rather do this.” His fingertip trails the outside of your panties before pulling them down with his set of teeth. You moan at the sight, head rolling in a circle from the excitement. 

You feel a sharp point graze the inner of your thighs, his lips press flush to your skin, sucking some more splotches into the thick of your skin. Your hand reaches down, carding through his sandy blonde locks, mouth falling open at the sensation. 

“Jimin please-” You whine. His head lifts up, a smirk plastering his features. 

“Who?” You groan at his cockiness. You sit up, not really knowing what he wants. 

“Daddy?” You try the word on your lips, internally cringing. He chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Not quite. Try again, baby girl.” You huff, scooting further down for his breath to roll onto the surface of your tummy. 

“Master?” He shakes his head. He makes a loud buzzer sound, giggling at the joke. “Wrong.” 

“What the fuck Jimin.” Your eyes roll at his childness. 

“Come on, Y/n. You know it.” He teases, lowering his lips just to graze the outside of your sopping core. His finger cards through your slick folds, bringing the tip up to suck between his lips. His eyes flash to yours, waiting. 

“Uhm..” You glance around, trying to think of something else to call him. 

“Sir?” He smirks, flattening his tongue to your clit. You whine out, squeezing his head gently between your thighs. Your head lulls back, gripping at his roots for support. 

His head lifts for a second to slot his middle and ring finger into the space of his mouth, sucking on them slightly before inserting them into your sopping core. You moan out, chest heaving heavily as his fingers pump in and out at a slow pace. 

“S-Sir! Oh- Fuck Ji-Jimin- Fuck!” You could feel his lips form into a smirk against your clit, sucking gently onto the throbbing bud. Your head falls back into the soft, comfy blanket. Your back arches off the ground just to fall right back down from his edging tease. 

“Ji- sir please.” You whine, watching as his head lifts up. A trail of saliva connects from his lips to your core. 

“Magic word?” He teases, flashing you a cheeky grin. You growl from frustration, pulling his body up from the ground, rolling over until you’re straddling his lap. Your eyes narrowing into his. 

“You know what? My turn.” 

You’re quick to lean down, crashing your lips against his. Mimicking the waves colliding into the shore. Swallowing the water’s contents whole. His chest heaves a deep groan, vibrating against the passion of your mouth. Which in turn, had made you moan just as loud. 

Your hand reaches down past the hem of his boxers, wrapping the base of his cock with palm. His head falls back, hands coming to pull your sleeves from off the shoulder to completely off the shoulder. His warm palms cup the rounds of your breasts, thumbing over the erect of your protruding buds. 

“Y/n I- Oh fuck.” He groans, cock twitching in your grip. You smirk, free hand softly tracing the sharp of his jawline. You tug at the hem of his button up. 

“Off.” He chuckles, making quick work of his buttoned shirt. He throws it onto the sand somewhere, watching as your eyes trail along the plains of his chiseled chest. 

“Don’t drool on me.” He teases, closing your mouth while chuckling at your reddened cheeks. 

“S..Shut up.” He laughs, leaning back in a more relaxed position. 

“Wanna switch?” 

“No.” You gripe, trying to assess what to do next. 

He chuckles, watching your face contort with focus. “You sure?” 

After a few seconds, you groan, rolling off of his body. 

“Fuck me, will you?” 

“Y-”

“If you don’t fuck me right now I will walk myself all the way back to the dorms.” He chuckles, gripping onto your thighs before flipping the two of you over. 

“Ironic, seeing how we crossed a bridge to get here.” Your eyes roll back, as he pulls the rest of your dress’s fabric down, making sure not to mess with any of the seams. You glance down, raising any eyebrow. 

“Don’t wanna rip it off?” He shakes his head. 

“If it was Gucci then maybe.” He smiles, folding the piece of fabric next to his thrown button down. 

“But it’s not.. It’s less expensive.” His hands reach around, pulling your body flush against his. 

“Not to you.” Your face tints at his words, as he continues his explanation, and undresses the both of you. 

“Didn’t you make it?” You nod. “How’d you remember?” 

His hands pull the last bit of fabric of your strapless bra down, watching as your breasts bounce from the sudden revealment. 

“You said you sewed.” Your head nods slowly, as you watch his fingers tug the hem of his boxer-briefs to circle his knees. 

“Says that so casually while unsheathing himself.” You chuckle, watching the interesting. His eyes glance up, narrowing towards you through his fallen blonde locks. 

“Unsheathed? What are you, an English major?” He laughs, reaching over into his trousers to pull a tiny foil packet from the pocket. 

“Was. Changed my major last minute.” He hums, quirking an eyebrow to you. “Really? Why?” 

You shrug, laying flat on the soft blanket. “Didn’t think it would pay enough. Gotta make a living somehow, right?” He chuckled, nodding before slotting his figure right between your parted legs. 

“Sounded like shakespeare to me.” He teases before hovering over your frame. You smile, lifting your head to lock lips with his. He pulls away, giving you a quick look over before continuing. 

“Ready?” You laugh, nodding. “Thou shall penetrate thy self with thine phyllu- Oh fuck!” 

He lets out a fit of laughs, slowly pushing past your velvet walls. “You’re gross.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your temple before slowly rolling his hips. Your teases are quick to cease, being replaced with a string of moans. His laughs fade to more of the same, as your legs wrap around his waist, hips rising to meet his own slow thrusts. 

“Oh fuck- shit oh my God, Jimin!” He groans, hip starting to pace faster. “Oh fuck baby-” His head falls to your side, supporting itself on your shoulder as his hands grip onto both sides of your hips to steady you. 

“Mmm baby sounds good.” You tease, feeling his lips nipping at the blotchy and bruised skin of your neck. He groans,  one of his hands coming up to knead your breast with his palm. 

“You’re not getting a baby.” He chuckles, harsh groans rolling from his lips. You fake a frown, flipping the two of you over so that you’re straddling his lap. He scoffs softly, watching your hips rise before snapping down. Hands come to steady both sides of your waist, bodies flush with one another’s. 

“Mmmm you’re getting kinda old, sir. Don’t you wanna- fuck- ..c-carry on your line?” He chuckles at the thought, leaning up to capture your lips in a passionate exchange. 

“Not right now.” He growls, taking one of your erect buds into the cavity of his mouth, lips wrapping around your hardened nipple. Your arms wrap around his head, body being thrown backwards slightly at the sensation. Your lips part, letting a few little words slip. 

“I love you!”

_____________________________________________________________

Oooooo cliff hanger. Hehe.

Alot of people seem to think my one shots are SERIES I'm starting but guys like- you can ask for drabble of my stuff but- I'm already swimming in unfinished series I had started a LONG TIME ago.

Example: Full Circle, Friendly Favor, Love me Leave me, Snow Drops, etc.

So uhm- thank you for all of the requests but these are not going to continue as series. You can request drabbles and ask questions about the characters but other than that, I leave my one shots alone.

This one was a little bit harder to end, so I just left it on a cliff hanger. (Kinda one of those things you can imagine your own ending if you want.)

If you'd like to me finish this, comment or send me a submission <33

Thank You!

______________________________________________________________

©vinntaege 2023. I do not condone any translations, copies, modifications, or

repostings anywhere for ANY of my works.

[star-my]

Vixen ~ Two

➼ Pairing: Jimin x OC (Shin Ara)

➼ Length: 8.4k

➼ Rating: M (minors do not interact)

➼ Content: Arranged Marriage AU, CEO AU, Mafia AU | TW: Human Trafficking (not by BTS/SKZ members); Light Violence | Bangtan and SKZ are mafia; think Kitty Gang Jimin; Jimin calls Ara 'Princess'; Smol Ara is a menace to Seokjin | SMUT: Oral (M + F receiving); Fingering; PiV; Loss of Virginity; Aftercare

➼ Thanks to @moonleeai for betaing!

➼ Taglist (Open): @bangtan-famiglia-net @kookthief @otome-wandering @sarcasticbambi

➼ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and in no way represents any member of BTS, SKZ, or any other K-pop group mentioned in any way beyond the face and name claims the author made for this work.

➼ Chapter 1 (13/10/23) ➼ Chapter 3 (15/10/23) ➼ Ao3 ➼ Masterlist

Jimin knocked gently on Ara’s door. No answer sounded from within, so he poked his head in. To his surprise, his wife was nowhere to be seen. 

Frowning, he headed downstairs to ask Mrs. Lee and Jungkook if they knew where Ara was, almost walking into her.

“Princess? You’re up early.”

Her white suit was open to show her silver-gray blouse and thin gold chain jewellery that glinted in the light from the foyer chandelier.

“You look nice; where are you going all dressed up?”

“Thank you. I’m heading to the hospital to check on Appa, then to ShinCorp to talk some things over with Jin-oppa and Joon-oppa. I’ll see you at lunch. Bye, yeobo!”

With a swift kiss to his cheek, Ara headed out the door, her ponytail bouncing behind her.

Jimin let her escape with Jungkook, momentarily stalled. “Yeobo?” he mouthed, pressing his hand to his cheek.

He didn’t stop grinning all morning (at least in private).

~~~

Ara sat confidently in the seat her father normally occupied. Namjoon and Seokjin stood in front of her desk, hands clasped in front of them.

“Namjoon-oppa, you’ll take over like Abeoji wanted, and Jin-oppa, you’ll stay where you are. I will be totally uninvolved, except when I’m not, of course,” Ara winked. “Let’s try and make Appa proud so he doesn’t worry, huh? Hwaiting!”

“Hwaiting!” echoed the two men.

Jimin entered the warehouse cautiously. A couple of lanterns in the middle provided just enough light to see who he was meeting: Vixen, head of the Stray Kids mafia that had rapidly grown over the last few years.

In the shadows behind her, he could just make out her two bodyguards, dressed all in black, just like Vixen: black combat boots with steel toes, black cargo pants, a black leather jacket with steel studs and zippers, and a black mask covering the top half of her face. The black hoodie underneath the jacket covered her head, casting shadows over her face that were only broken by her glowing gold eyes.

Jimin had to admit Vixen was a bit unnerving. Her mind games started before you even saw her face-to-face; there was the reputation of the female mafia leader who lived in the shadows, whose face no one had ever fully seen. Her gang had really exploded in the past five or six years, taking over a sizable chunk of the city with minimal bloodshed. Vixen relied heavily on secrets and manipulation, preferring nonviolent threats to force. Her reputation included being a whiz with a blade, proving she wasn’t a one-trick pony.

Vixen took a step forward, the glint of a silver-and-gold dagger strapped to her thigh catching Jimin’s eye.

“Why did you want to meet?” Jimin met her gold eyes steadily.

Vixen took another step forward. “I want to ally with Bangtan. I have a partnership with Gray…we run a bar; you may have heard of it, Blueprint?”

Jimin nodded. The Blue bars run by the Gray Family were some of the most popular in Seoul: Blue Moon, Blue Side, Blue Hour, and Blueprint. “I’m listening.”

Vixen’s signature red lips turned up in a smirk.

Jungok stayed in the hospital for another few days while his private doctor got caught up on his issues and treatment, agreeing a longer stay would be more beneficial to his healing.

Once he was cleared to go home and rest, he was taken back to his house, refusing Ara’s offer to have him move in with her and Jimin.

Taking time out of her gallery-opening schedule, she made sure to visit him twice a week and check up on his care.

Jimin didn’t see Ara very much (though they did make time for their weekly dates), as they were both busy working on their separate projects; Jimin on opening Dionysus, the bar Bangtan and Stray Kids were officially partnering over, and Ara on opening Secret Secret, the name she’d finally settled on for her gallery.

~~~

Ara surveyed her closet as she changed from the outfit she’d worn to her date tonight to her comfy pyjamas.

She frowned. “Jimin hasn’t been paying me much attention lately.”

She opened her spacious drawers, holding up outfits and juggling accessories.

“Hmm…”

She pulled up her contacts list on her phone, selected a name, and pressed call..

“Hey, it’s me. Want to help me with something?”

~~~

Jimin leaned against his car in the parking lot outside the mall, frowning when he saw his wife laughing with another man.

Jealousy bubbled up in his chest, and he frowned harder as they briefly hugged before separating.

The man turned–it was her ex-boyfriend, Lee Minho–and winked at her cheekily before heading to his car. Jimin walked up behind Ara and put his arm around her waist firmly.

“Hello, Princess,” he purred in her ear. “What a surprise to see you here.”

Ara tensed but relaxed when she recognised his voice. “Hello, yeobo,” she said cheerily, as if she hadn’t just hugged her (ex?)boyfriend in front of his salad.

He scoffed quietly. “What are you doing here?”

“Shopping, of course! I found something I’m sure you’d love,” she winked at him adorably, an awkward one-two blink. “Oh, and I got you some chocolate. But what are you doing here?”

“I was coming to shop for your birthday present, jagiya. I suppose I can take you home.”

“How sweet of you to offer,” Ara smiled, and Jimin felt his jealousy fading.

While Ara was distracted, gathering her bags before stepping out of his car, Jimin slipped her phone out of her purse and into his pocket. Being the exemplary husband that he was, he dropped Ara off at her suite with her armload of bags before heading to his office.

The bookshelves were rather obvious, so Jimin’s father had constructed his secret lair opposite them. Jimin put his thumb on the light switch, the built-in sensor reading his print and unlocking the Genius Lab.

“Suga, are you busy?” He greeted his tech guy by his hacker name in case he was on a call with someone.

Yoongi grunted, turning in his chair to face him. Jimin tossed him Ara’s phone, Yoongi’s fingers snagging it out of the air. 

“Can you put a tracker on it, in case she’s ever caught up in this?”

“No problem.”

“...and while you’re at it, can you trace her activity for the next few days?”

Yoongi eyed him but said nothing, opting to work in silence. “There’s already a tracker in here. Must be Seokjin’s,” mused Yoongi.

Before the alliance, Jin and Suga were rival hackers-slash-frenemies. The first time the two met in person, Jimin was a little worried until they decided not to deck each other but talk shop instead. 

Yoongi fixed the phone and handed it to Jimin. “That all, Boss?”

“For now, thanks.” Jimin left and knocked on Ara’s door. “Hey, I found this in the car,” he said when she answered.

“Oh, thanks! I was wondering where I’d left it! I guess it slipped out of my purse when I grabbed the bags or something.” She shut the door, and Jimin headed to his office to plan.

After one of Ara’s lovely meals, the couple said goodnight and headed their separate ways. Jimin lay on his divan, planning what to say tomorrow, when his phone got an alert.

Ara was talking to Minho.

Jimin scowled and tapped into the call, mid-chuckle from Minho.

“Yeah, it was pretty obvious.” Ara laughed.

“Anything to help,” said Minho smugly. “So, how does it work?”

“It fits perfectly, you smug cat-boy. Thank you for your advice.”

“I bet he’ll be shocked when he finds out, huh?”

Ara giggled. “Yeah, I can’t wait. That’ll teach him to ignore me.”

“Tell me if it works,” snickered Jimin’s rival.

Jimin ground his teeth.

“I will. He’s been off all afternoon, I should probably tell him sooner rather than later. He probably saw us.”

“Good, maybe he’ll finally realise what he could lose.”

“You’re so cynical, Lee. But yes, I am a catch for anyone.”

“Park is either blind or in denial if he’s not in love with you.”

“Thanks for humouring me today, Minho; it was fun. See you later!”

“Night, Ara.”

Jimin huffed and disconnected.

A second later, a text from his wife popped up on his screen.

SA: Can you come talk for a minute?

PJ: I’ll be right there, Princess.

Jimin yanked his robe’s belt shut, stomped into his slippers, and flounced down the hallway to his wife’s room.

She answered his irritated knock immediately. 

All thoughts fled his mind; in front of him was a blessed sight most certainly not intended for his mortal eyes: Ara in a red lace onesie.

He swallowed and tried to refocus his thoughts. Focus, Park! Did Minho pick this out for her? They discussed her wearing it over the phone?! 

…and Jealous Jimin was back.

“Why did you want to see me?”

“You seemed off all afternoon…I wondered if something was wrong.”

“Yes, something’s wrong!” Jimin exclaimed, his eyes travelling the length of her heatedly. “You went shopping with your ex-boyfriend for that? Is he even your ex?”

Ara grinned widely. “Ah, you saw Minho and me. No, he didn’t choose this for me, I chose it myself. I did ask his opinion on a hypothetical situation or two while we were at the mall, but nothing inappropriate happened, and yes, we are definitely exes. We only had one true date, where we realised we were better off as friends. We pretended to be dating for public appearances and such, a mutually beneficial, platonic relationship to keep gold diggers and well-meaning matchmakers away. Also, I’m married to you, and I’m not a cheater. I apologise if I gave you that impression, but I have in no way, shape, or form acted in a way that would break our vows.”

Jimin sighed, knowing that Ara was right. She wouldn’t hurt him like that; she was loyal to those she cared for.

“I’m sorry. I got jealous.”

“I can see that,” she said wryly, taking his hand. “Don’t worry, yeobo, I only love you.” She looked at him from under her lashes, her eyes sparkling, yet uncertain. Attempting to stay calm and ignore the butterflies in his stomach, he replied. “I was trying to plan the perfect date tomorrow to tell you that,” he said. “I love you too.”

The uncertainty morphed into complete love as Ara tiptoed and waited for him to kiss her. It was perfect.

~~~

Their lips barely brushed, then Jimin pressed more firmly against her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him. Ara returned the favour, prodding his lips with her tongue until he opened up for her. He obliged, gentleman that he was. His warm hand trailed from her neck to her waist, sending sparks through her nerves as he grazed her almost-naked skin. 

He nipped at her lip before pulling back a smidgen, his eyes dark and hazy. “I love you, Princess.”

The words settled in her core, warm and insistent. “I love you, too.”

His plush lips turned up before he leaned forward for another kiss.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing him down to the loveseat so she could straddle him, running her fingers through his hair and her other hand down his firm chest.

Sensing her goal, Jimin leaned against the back of the seat to untie his robe and push it off impatiently. 

He leaned towards Ara’s tempting cherry lips again but she wasn’t focused on his face anymore.

“And why haven’t I seen you shirtless before?” she demanded, her fingers sliding teasingly across his rib tattoo. “You never told me you had abs!”

Jimin shrugged, focused on sneaking his finger under the strap of her onesie. “Didn’t think to tell you. Would it have made a difference?”

Ara paused, tilted her head consideringly.

“Yah! Want me for my mind, not my body!” He pretended to cover himself with his hands like a scandalized maiden. “I’m more than just a pretty face!”

Laughing, Ara collapsed into his neck, pressing kisses down it as an apology. Her warm, wet mouth continued down his chest, pausing to run her tongue over his nipple. He shivered, and felt her smirk at the information she’d just received.

She straightened again, dropping a last kiss on his mouth. By now he’d slid the straps of her onesie down her shoulders, the loss of support causing the neckline to droop and expose her breasts to him. 

Ara’s hips began moving slowly over his as he began kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin on her neck and chest. A tug, and the red lace pooled even lower at her waist. His hand was arrested from ripping it off completely as Ara clamped her hand over his, surprisingly firmly. 

He glanced up at her, taking in her loose, mussed hair, shiny red lips, and half-lidded eyes; the prettiest sight he’d ever seen. “Princess?”

She glanced down to their hands, biting her lip. “I…uh…you’re my one and only, Jimin.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Oh! I see…uh…do you…Should I slow down?”

“No, it’s fine. I just want it to be slow and special?” She met his eyes.

“Of course, Princess. Thank you for telling me. Is there anything else you want…?” She shook her head. “No, you’re perfect. I just thought I should tell you so you’re not surprised.”

“Right, yeah, good idea…I just thought…y’know…” “Yeah,” she giggled awkwardly, swooping in to sweetly kiss him. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

Jimin smiled widely at her. “No problem at all, jagiya.” He kissed her softly. “How about you tell me what you want me to do, eh? Do you want to keep making out or…”

“Park Jimin, we have been married four months and have kissed only a handful of times. If you stop now, I swear I’ll call Minho back!”

“No need to call your ex when your husband is right here and is more than willing to help you.”

“Good.” Ara wiggled in his lap, pointing at her bed. “What are you waiting for, then? Make me yours.”

A growl escaped his mouth as he swept her up and carried her to her bed in three large steps. He gently tossed her on the bed, crawling up her body to cage her in with his arms and knees.

Breathless, Ara stared up at him. He was so pretty and handsome at the same time. It was unfair, she decided. 

His soft, expert lips covering hers broke her from her admiring musings, a tiny noise escaping the back of her throat as his hand slid up to gently twist her nipple between his fingers. She lifted her hips so he could pull her lingerie off the final stretch, his thigh settling between her thighs. 

Only Jimin’s underwear and sweats remained, and she hooked her fingers under the elastic band of his sweats. 

He got the message, kicking them off to join the rest of their discarded clothing. He crawled up slowly between her legs, running his fingers lightly over her sensitive skin till he reached her inner thighs, diverting them to trace over her stomach and hips teasingly. 

She caught her lip between her teeth as he glanced up to check on her, the vision of her husband between her legs a sight that made her unbelievably wet. 

“This okay?” he murmured, his fingers pausing just above her heat. 

She nodded eagerly, resisting the urge to trap him between her thighs and make sure he never left her. 

The first gentle stroke of his thumb through her wetness had her gasping, nerves lighting up like she’d never felt before. 

“You’re so wet, Princess.” His awed voice was strained, his other thumb holding her open as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. 

“All for you,” she replied, hands moving to tug at her nipples.

“You smell so good. Bet you taste even better.”

She whined impatiently, and who was he to deny his wife’s wishes?

At the first pass of his tongue over her heat, they both groaned, Ara at the sensation and Jimin in ecstasy. He dove in hungrily, a man starved for his wife’s plentiful juices.

Her legs tightened around him, and her hand flew to grip his hair as he swirled his tongue just right.

He brought a finger up, gently circling her entrance, gathering her arousal and his saliva before entering her tight heat.

Her head dropped back onto the pillow, involuntarily clenching around his finger as he worked it in and out.

He groaned, sounding pained. “Can you take another, Princess?”

She gasped out an affirmative, groaning louder as a second finger joined the first.

Jimin moved them around, feeling for something.

Sparks tingled up  her spine and she gasped, “There!”

He resumed sucking at her clit as he stroked her inner walls, the pressure building higher and higher.

“Come on my face, Princess.”

With a cry, she let go, falling over the edge to pure pleasure.

When she opened her eyes, Jimin was staring at her in awe, licking his fingers clean, his pink hair mussed from her grip. “You are gorgeous, Ara.”

She smiled, pulling him in for a steamy kiss, tasting herself on him as she waited for her legs to stop shaking.

With him distracted, she flipped him, straddling his thighs, arms around his neck. “Your turn!”

“Princess, you don’t have-”

“I know, but what if I want to?” She peered up at him, fingers already working his underwear down.

She licked her hand, wrapped it around his length, and gave him a couple tentative strokes. “Tell me what you like.” She licked at the head, looking up at him for guidance.

A pained sound escaped him. “You’re doing great so far, keep doing what you’re doing. A little harder, ye-ah.”

Ara took him further in her mouth, running her tongue over the smooth skin. This would take some getting used to, but lucky for him, she was a perfectionist and willing to practice often.

Careful to keep her top lip over her teeth, she began moving up and down, attempting to take a little more each time. 

Jimin’s head was hanging back, his mouth open. “You’re doing great, Princess. Use your hand...yeah, like that.”

She coughed and pulled off him, the tip hitting the back of her throat. “Yeah, I’m going to need some practice.”

“Anytime,” he groaned, holding the base of his length firmly. “What position do you want to try?”

“Good old missionary?” she asked, settling herself.

Jimin leaned over her, grabbing a pillow and tapping her hips so she’d lift them for him to slide it under her. 

“You’re sure?” he asked her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Yes.” Hooking her arms around his neck, she smacked a quick, reassuring peck on his lips. “I feel like you’re more nervous than me.”

“Well, it’s only the responsibility of making sure I don’t ruin this for you and us forever,” he said dramatically.

She snickered, making him pout. “You’re doing an amazing job so far, jagi. I have faith in you. Besides, even if it’s not great at first, we have a whole lifetime to practice together!”

He carefully pushed in inch by inch till he was fully seated inside her, the previous orgasm and foreplay loosening her up marvelously. There was only a slightly uncomfortable stretch that was quickly fading as he kissed and nipped up her neck.

“You can move,” she said, rocking her hips experimentally. 

He started off slow and gentle, getting into the rhythm. Ara moved her hips up to meet his, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “Harder,” she gasped.

He acquiesced, his head dropping to her chest, his lips finding her nipple and tugging. 

A particularly hard thrust had her nails dragging scratches down his back. “There, Jimin! I’m close!”

He moved his free thumb to her clit, rubbing in circles. “I’m close, too. Come, Princess. Let go, Ara.”

She loudly moaned his name, tightening around him and triggering his own orgasm.

“Princess…you are going to be the death of me.” He sank into her arms. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she replied, and kissed him softly. “Ew, we’re all sweaty.”

“Join me in the shower?” He kissed the tip of her nose.

“Of course, my prince.”

Gathering her into his arms, he swept her off to her ensuite, running the water till it was an appropriate warmth. 

Ara stepped in, and he lathered up a loofah with her body wash. They took turns washing each other, trading kisses and teasing touches besides the soap.

Once they had dried off with their fluffy towels, Jimin wrapped his robe around her, tied the belt, and picked her up.

“Where are you taking me?” she squealed as he headed for the door.

“My room. You’re sleeping in my bed tonight, Princess.”

The air whistled in his ear as he dodged Vixen’s roundhouse kick. He attempted to punch her stomach, but she brushed his arm away with her own. She feinted a sweeping kick and followed up with a jab to his solar plexus. 

One bodyguard pointed to Vixen. “Three points.Vixen wins.”

Shaking their sweaty hands, Jimin and Vixen ended their spar. 

His opponent took a bottle of water from a second bodyguard  and handed it to him before drinking her own. “I’m planning on attacking a human trafficking ring on Friday. I could use more manpower; care to join?” “What will you do with the ring?”

“Take care of the leaders, send the rest to the cops, find good homes and resources for the victims. Don’t worry; I know what I’m doing. I’ve done this a time or two.”

Jimin considered. “I’m in. How many men do you need?”

“Six to ten should be good. I’ll have my guy send Suga the time and place.”

~~~

The door shut behind Jimin, automatically locking. Vixen turned on her heel and headed for the back room, her inner circle already gathered there.

Vixen pushed her hood back and took her gold contacts out, grimacing. 

“Okay, there’ll be us nine, plus Jimin, Jungkook, V, Jay, Kai, Taehyun, and Yeonjun. The predicted twelve traffickers will be easily taken if we have all sixteen of us.

“Chan, when you send Suga the message, can you add that I’d like Suga to be on standby online to follow the police scanners? We don’t want them there too early, and Jin will be busy with his division.”

Chan nodded. “You got it, Vix.”

“Thanks. OK, you all take the next two days off, but prepare for Friday. I’ll be on a date at L’Domino Thursday night. I don’t think we should reuse waiters, so Hyunjin, you’re up. 

“Call or text me if anything comes up or there’s a problem. I’ll see you Friday morning for a final debrief.” 

Vixen hung her jacket in her locker and folded her hoodie, placing it neatly on the top shelf beside her mask and contacts case. 

“Boss, why aren’t you hurrying like normal?” asked Felix. “Did you hurt yourself? Need Hyunjin to look at it?”

Vixen waved off his concerns. “I’m fine. Ara just texted Jiminie to pick up ice cream on the way home. He’ll need to text her a picture of the case and ask which type she wants, so I’ll have plenty of time to escape.”

“Smart,” her boys nodded.

With a wink and a nod, she headed into the small bathroom.

Five minutes later, she emerged in old sweats, a college T-shirt, and a fluffy pink jacket; her blood-red smirk had become a pink glossy smile.

“Bye, boys.”

A beep sounded from her phone.

PJ: [1 Image Attached] Vanilla, chocolate swirl, caramel crunch, blueberry, or mint choco?

SA: Caramel crunch please🥰 Get two 😉

PJ: You got it, Princess

Friday night the members of Bangtan and TXT (Bangtan’s subunit of hoobaes) gathered in Stray Kids’ warehouse for the run-through.

Vixen sauntered in her usual outfit, but a kevlar vest bulked up her jacket. The dagger had a twin strapped by her left boot, and a pistol was fastened on her left thigh.

Her normal scarlet smile had received the expensive upgrade of fangs designed with razor-sharp edges. The better to bite you with, my dear, she smirked, remembering the first time she’d tested them out. Ah, that piece of trash had let out a most pleasing yelp when she sank her teeth into hisd forearm. Served him right; he’d attempted to choke her, besides committing many other crimes, of course.

The men introduced themselves as their callsigns, most of them meeting for the first time.

Jimin had brought JK, V, Jay, Kai, Fox, and Kang to meet Vixen and Chan, Lino, Hyune, Han, Felix, Min, Bin, and I.N. 

Chan handed earpieces out like candy, each one connected to his, Suga, and Jin’s lines. The members of Bangtan were directed by Suga and Stray Kids was guided by Chan. Jin was set to watch the police and help Chan if needed. 

The echo of doors slamming in the warehouse signalled the start of the mission as four black SUVs were filled with armoured men (and women). Tires screeched and they peeled out, ready for a hunt.

~~~

A breeze gently played with Jimin’s hair as he and Vixen carefully scouted the area ahead of their men.The soundtrack of city nightlife filled the air until Jimin broke it. 

“Do all your captains work at L’Domino?” He asked quietly.

“No; they were keeping an eye on someone for me, collecting information. It’s my chosen currency, you know.”

“It was my understanding that Min was a part of Gray.”

“He’s my spy in Gray,” Vixen returned in a monotone, peering around a shipping container’s corner.

“Do you have a spy in Bangtan?”

Even with the crescent moon’s feeble light, Jimin could tell Vixen was smirking. “What do you think?”

“Lino?” ventured Jimin.

She scoffed quietly. “You met him as your wife’s ex. No, he’s too obvious to be a spy on you.”

Up ahead, a figure of a trafficker exited from a crosspath. “Focus. Bin, two on your two o’clock.”

“Jay, one on your nine; V, one at twelve.” Suga’s voice cut through Jimin’s line. The dozen traffickers were quickly and quietly taken out by the combined gangs’ ruthless efficiency.

The shipping container’s lock was shot off. Even with the silencer on, the echo hung in the air, the humidity from the coming rainstorm accentuating every noise.

Unearthly groans sounded as the doors creaked open. Letting the people inside acclimate to the night’s dim light before barging in with bright flashlights, Vixen marshalled a few of her helpers to speak softly and convince the victims they were there to help.

The children inside still didn’t trust the men’s words, so Vixen crouched where the metal base met the damp concrete. 

Raising her hands high enough to be shown by the backlight, she spoke slowly and calmly.

“Hey, kids. My name is Vixen; I lead a mafia here in Seoul. I asked a friend of mine to help me get you guys out of here. All the bad guys out here are taken care of. The police are on their way to help you, alright? Do you have a person in charge here I can talk to and try to prove we want to help you?”

A gangly teenage boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, Vixen guessed, raised his hand.

“If you’re mafia, aren’t you the bad guys? Why would the police come here if they’re not in on it?”

Ah, lovely, it was time to have the morals talk.

“Good question! Technically, mafia are the bad guys. In this situation, however, we are what you could call the good guys. Our mafias do not participate in human trafficking–some of our members actually arrived with us because they were trafficked themselves. We may be mafia, but we have rules, and one of ours is no human trafficking. As for answering your question about the police,” Vixen sighed, wondering how to explain dirty cops and their tenuous relationship. “We sent an anonymous tip. They’ll be here in a few minutes to make sure you get support. We’ll make sure they send you home, if you have one, or that you get a good living situation worked out.”

A tween girl nudged the boy and whispered in his ear. He straightened and looked at Vixen. “We’re trusting you,” was all he said.

She nodded solemnly. “Thank you. I will do my best not to break it. While we’re waiting for the police, how about we get your information, so we can make sure you’re taken care of?”

Jin logged the kids’ info as they gave it, creating a file for each one. Suga had taken care of identifying the three head traffickers.

By the time the police arrived, the kids were all in a huddle, wearing warm hoodies a size bigger than they needed and holding a pocketknife that Jungkook had given them once they promised not to use it unless it was an emergency.

The traffickers were left in a heap, thoroughly roughed up, courtesy of Jimin, Felix, and I.N. The three men heading up the operation mysteriously disappeared from the pile containing their underlings.

Once the red and blue lights disappeared from the maze of shipping containers, carrying the kids to the station to be processed, two shadows jumped from their vantage point.

Vixen’s fist met Jimin’s in an unspoken acknowledgement before they split, heading to their respective pieces of the night.

ARA, THIRTEEN (TWELVE YEARS AGO)

Ara ducked into the closet in her dad’s office, laughing to herself. She’d been taking pictures around ShinCorp’s HQ as she explored the newly renovated and furnished office tower.

Jungok was supposed to be in soon, and Ara planned to surprise him and then show him the photos she’d taken that day; she was really improving, thanks to Jungkook and Photography for Dummies.

The sound of his door opening made her peer through the crack, ready to surprise her appa…but there was a strange young man with him.

“You’ll be organising my schedule for both ShinCorp and the Gray Family’s business. You’ll have Jungjoo’s list of legitimate contacts and who I’ll be meeting with on both sides of the business. Jungjoo has agreed to be available to answer your questions if you’re unsure of my contacts’ connections. If I’m around, feel free to ask me as well. The rest of the details are in our contract. Please do your best, Secretary Kim.”

The young man bowed to her father and bent over the desk to sign his employment papers. The new angle let Ara see more of his features.

Ah, it was one of the Kim cousins– Kim Seokjin, she believed. Ara had heard of the Gray mafia of Seoul–they’d just recently opened a new bar downtown, Blue Side. So her father was the head, huh…

“My daughter, Ara, is around today. She does not know and is never to know of Gray’s connections to ShinCorp, do you understand? Generally, I allow her free reign in the building, as she is not a mess maker, but keep an eye on her if she's in the vicinity of a forbidden area or wants to enter my office when I’m in a meeting. Keep her out of sight of any of my visiting rivals and allies, except my immediate family and Jeon Jeonghwa. I want as little attention on her as possible. Her mother’s death was truly an accident, but I don’t want a second accident, planned or not. Ara is all I have left, and I will do anything to ensure she stays safe. My daughter’s safety is of the utmost importance, understand?”

“Understood, sir.” Seokjin bowed. “I will keep Miss Ara safe with my life, sir!”

“Good. You’re dismissed.” Jungok nodded approvingly at Seokjin as the man left.

A few minutes later, he called his car around to head for a meeting.

Ara snuck out of her hiding place and crept to the door. Observing the new secretary leave for a cup of coffee, she waited until he was fully gone before she snuck out of her father’s office.

Her sneaking skills had really improved over the past couple of years. Her appa was much more secretive, and in the months immediately after her mother’s death, she’d caught him breaking off a phone call about her more than once. Wanting to know what had happened to her beloved mother, she memorised all the creaks in the floors, how to wear socks and slippers to dampen her footsteps, and to remember to check where her shadow was falling while she eavesdropped.

This, however, was the first time she’d realised her father was involved in some less-than-legal proceedings.

A shrill yelp pierced Ara’s ears as Jin caught his mug, startled by her sudden movement from under his desk.

Brown coffee splashed dangerously close to the edges of the mug he clutched to his chest. “Are you Miss Ara? Aish, you almost gave me a heart attack, child!”

“I’m thirteen, not a child,” Ara rolled her eyes. “Just call me Ara. Are you the new secretary? I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

“Kim Seokjin at your service. Yes, I'm the new secretary. Your father is good friends with mine, Kim Honggil.”

“Ah, you’re one of the Kim cousins. Kim Seokjin, Kim Sihyeon, and Kim Namjoon.”

Seokjin nodded. “What’s in your hand, Miss Ara?”

She glared at him. “Ara. It’s my camera. My best friend Jungkook taught me how to take good pictures. Can I take a picture of you…oppa?”

Seokjin shook his head. “Aish, I’m going to die of a heart attack caused by this girl. Sure, you can take a picture, as long as I get a signed copy.” At her quizzical glance, he explained. “I need to have an autographed copy from when you were young and unknown, before you become some hotshot photographer and forget your first model, whom you used to call Jin-oppa.” He sighed. “Ah, the good old days…I don’t know how she forgot such a handsome face,” he mourned.

Ara giggled. “You’re ridiculous, but I like you so you can have a photo.”

Picture taken, Ara headed for the elevator and waved goodbye. “I’m just keeping you on your toes, oppa! You’ll never get old with me around!” She laughed maniacally as the door slid shut and Seokjin slumped over his desk.

“What have I gotten into?”

ARA, FIFTEEN (TEN YEARS AGO)

“Jungkook, you know how you’re going to be my official bodyguard in a couple years, when you turn 18?”

Jungkook’s head was in Ara’s lap, her fingers combing through the soft black strands. “…yeah?”

“So then I won’t have Lee watching us all the time?”

“Yes? Where are you going with this?”

“Patience, Kookie.” Ara booped his nose, making him crinkle it at her.

“Well, then I’ll be able to sneak out with you more. I won’t have to make you sneak out to get my stuff anymore, and I can really begin my- our plans.”

“But I don’t mind it! I like it!” Jungkook protested. “It keeps you safe and under Lee’s watch, where you’re supposed to be.”

“Yeah, but it’s so boring. I don’t get to practice my black belts on anything…you can join the underground rings but I can’t, yet. Ugh, I wish you were older so I could polish the plan better.”

“Slow and steady wins the race, Ara. You’ve got two years to finish learning all that stuff you want to know, as if Namjoon-hyung and Jin-hyung won’t help.”

“Yeah, but they’ll be busy for appa, and it’s too close; he’d be suspicious, and they’ll be in trouble even if I’m not. It’s good for me to know hacking and strategy, anyway. You’ve been with me for my physical training, but I can’t lead a gang just because I have five black belts in martial arts and a gun.”

“Okay, you have a point, Bug.”

“When do I not?” she smirked saucily at him.

ARA, AGE 17 (8 YEARS AGO)

Ara popped the second contact in and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Two gold eyes stared back at her. Black combat boots laced tightly; black stretchy jeans to allow for more agile movements; black kevlar weave-shirt layered under her black hoodie and leather jacket; scarlet lipstick; special-made mask seated over her face, forehead-to-nose.

Perfect.

The get-up was about as far as she could get from her typical glitter-and-pastel outfits. She slipped the knife Jungkook had given her to celebrate Vixen’s first outing into the holster, her pistol into her ankle holster, and her backup knives up her sleeves.

Vixen stepped out of the bathroom and Jungkook, also masked and all in black, fell in behind her. Their black motorcycles sped quietly through the night to the old warehouse. Underneath the floor was a lively auction in full swing.

Jungkook entered first and began mingling with the patrons, sussing out any members of Gray or a rival family she’d need to be aware of. Seven and a half minutes later, Vixen entered quietly, staying in the shadows at the back as she analysed the room. About half an hour later what she was here for was beginning to be auctioned off.

Making eye contact with Jungkook, she nodded at him to place an opening bid. Once a couple offers were made she also joined the bidding. She and Jungkook upped the price, creating a flurry of a bidding war, until Jungkook acquired one and she the other two. 

This was the highlight of the auction, so once they won the bids, the auction house cleared out slowly. Too many people leaving at once would be far too blatant to any prying eyes.

The auctioneer approached Vixen. “Lady Vixen, your goods await your retrieval.”

She nodded curtly, motioning him to step forward, and she followed him to the room at the back, covered with steel bars and securely locked up.

Jungkook passed her on his return from the vault, nodding subtly, his new purchase behind him.

The auctioneer unlocked the door and the armed guard retrieved Vixen’s purchases: two Korean-Australian teenage boys, handcuffed and blindfolded. “Pleasure doing business, Lady.”

She smirked slightly and inclined her head at the auctioneer. “Indeed …I hope to do further business with you.” She put a hand on each of the boys’ shoulders and turned them to face the exit. “Straight ahead, boys!”

With a jaunty wave at the remaining staff in the warehouse’s secret bunker, she headed for the exit to meet up with Jungkook.

Once they were topside, Vixen put motorcycle helmets on their heads, warning, “No funny business, or we all die.” She put the smaller one in front of her and the bigger one on the seat behind her. Revving her engine, she headed for her warehouse HQ, where Jungkook awaited.

~~~

The two boys Vixen had brought were put in a small, specially prepared room while Vixen surveilled them and Jungkook’s boy, who was in a room twin to the other.

Vixen didn’t put it past the black market guys to slip a plant in, attempting to pull the wool over her eyes since she was small, fairly new to the illegal scene, and a woman.

She flicked her knife open and cut the zipties binding their wrists tightly. Leaving them, she shut the door and joined Jungkook in the surveillance room.

The first boy pulled his blindfold off, blinking at the dim light till he could see a table, two chairs, and two sealed water bottles. Once he perceived no one else was in the room and it was (so far) harmless, he undid the second boy’s blindfold and started rubbing his wrists. 

They began to talk in whispers, but Vixen had bugged the room so she and Jungkook could hear everything plainly. They spoke in English, with an Aussie accent.

“Where are we?” Boy Two asked.

“Another holding cell, it looks like.” “I hope Innie’s okay.”

“Me too. At least we’re together,” Boy One reassured him. “I wonder why the ‘Lady’ bought us…” “She didn’t seem as bad as the others, but you remember Roxie…”

Both boys shuddered.

Boy Two continued, “Do you think the water is for us?”

“It could be a test. We should inspect it.”

Each boy grabbed a bottle, carefully holding it up to the weak lightbulb in the room.

“Let’s just share a bottle in case it’s not for us,” Boy One suggested, twisting open the cap.

“Good idea, Chris-sorry.”

“Chris”--Boy One– tasted a sip thoughtfully, then passed the bottle to the other. “It tastes okay.”

The water quickly disappeared, and the boys sat on the floor facing the door, backs to the wall.

It was the same position “Innie”--Boy Three– was in. He, too, had carefully inspected the water before drinking it, before retreating to his current position.

They had definitely communicated before, Vixen decided. If anyone was a plant, it was likely to be Innie, but he seemed a bit young to be an actor. 

She unlocked the door and Jungkook walked in. “Innie?” he tried.

The boy’s head snapped up. 

“Do you know ‘Chris?’”

Innie pursed his lips, then nodded slowly.

“Please come with me.”

Innie followed Jungkook to the door, retying his blindfold behind his head.

Jungkook frowned, then mimed a punch at Innie’s head, stopping just before he actually hit him.

Not a flinch of a reaction showed on Innie’s face.

Jungkook gently took his elbow and led him to the room next door, opening the door and spinning him in. 

Vixen, watching the cameras, saw the two scramble up to meet Innie, hugging him tightly. 

Jungkook rejoined her and they shamelessly eavesdropped as the three caught up.

“We were so worried about you!”

“You got taken together?”

“Yeah, by a woman. The man took you, right?”

“They must know each other,” nodded Chris.

“Are you okay?” asked Boy Two.

“Yeah, you?”

“We’re fine. What do you think they want?”

“I don’t know. The guy just came in and asked me if I knew you and told me to follow him. I didn’t see the woman, and the man had a mask on.”

“They’re listening to us, then,” said Chris. “Unless they asked the guard at the other place our names, but they just called us all ‘Boy’...”

The trio looked at each other. 

“Why? We don’t know anything; we were handcuffed and blindfolded most of the time,” said unnamed-Boy-Two.

Jungkook left Vixen to knock and enter the boys’ room.

“That’s the guy,” whispered Innie to his companions.

Jungkook kicked the chair from Innie’s cell over to the other two and nodded at them. “Sit, please.”

They sat down, eyeing him, and Jungkook moved to face them all.

“We were eavesdropping because we wanted to make sure none of you were plants to take down our newly-formed operation,” explained Jungkook. “What’s your name?” he asked Boy Two.

“...Yongbok.”

“Chris, Yongbok, and Innie?”

The boys nodded, confirming their names as Jungkook pointed at them.

“Do you remember how you got to that auction?”

Chris and Yongbok told their take on how they’d been kidnapped in Australia and became friends on the way to Korea. 

Innie was taken from his native Incheon streets and met the other two at the cells where most of the trafficked children and teens were kept. They became friends during the three weeks they were captives before they were moved to the auction warehouse the day before this one.

“No one’s looking for you back home?” Jungkook asked the Australians.

“Why?” asked Chris, while Yongbok simply shook his head.

“So you’re technically illegal immigrants,” mused Jungkook out loud, telling Vixen to contact Jin and have him finagle two new Korean IDs and an updated one for Innie.

Once that was done, Vixen joined the group in the room, smiling at the boys.

“Hello, Innie, Yongbok, Chris. I’m Lady Vixen. JK here, and I bought you from the traffickers.” She nodded at Jungkook to continue.

He inhaled deeply.

“I was a trafficked kid, too. I’m from Busan, but one day a bunch of us young street kids were grabbed and shipped up to Seoul. We were rescued by cops who were breaking up the ring, and I was adopted by one of the cops, who is friends with Vixen’s dad. I’m Vixen’s bodyguard, so we spend a lot of time together, and one day Vix hatched this scheme to help trafficked kids like me. If you want to go home or find accommodations elsewhere, that’s cool; we’ll help you as much as we can, or you can stay and help us. No pressure either way,” JK said slowly.

“Right, you spent all that money on us just to let us go home? What do we have to do first?” asked Chris sceptically.

Vixen smiled. “I know; it’s strange. But I know not all the kids get happy endings like JK did, and I don’t want that to happen to more. He’s my brother in all but blood, and I have plenty of money to spend as I please, so why not help little JKs?”

“If we don’t leave, how will we help you?”

“I’d like to analyse you separately and see what you’re best suited for. Tech, medical, espionage…” “You make it sound like a gang,” said Yongbok facetiously.

Vixen didn’t bat an eyelash. “I am starting my own mafia, if you must know.”

“Wait, jjinja?”

“Yep! There’s a difference between a mafia and a gang, you know,” Vixen explained. “Mafia are higher calibre and have more rules. They only bring out the big guns if they need them; they prefer to have boring meetings first to attempt peace or treaties before full-on bloodshed. Ideally, no one knows they’re mafia. They’re the one percent. 

“In comparison, gangs are…the middle class, at best. Gangs are always fighting for their turf, showing off their affiliations. There is a world of difference between a gang and a Family.”

The three fell silent, contemplating.

“What if I join and I want out later?” asked Innie.

“As long as you spill no secrets about us, you’re free to leave whenever. I��ll even help,” promised Vixen.

“I’m in,” they decided at last.

“Glad to have you join us!”

Jungkook left and Vixen stood up, slapping her thighs. “Okay, JK’s off to prepare your assessments for later. I have a room ready, but I’d like it if you’d shower and see my doctor to make sure you’re all in good health before you sleep.”

They agreed to her suggestion, and she led them down the hallway to a plain wooden door.

Rapping on it four times in a row, she waited till a tall, lean man with long dark hair answered.

“Hey, Doc, these are tonight’s recruits: Chris, Innie, and Yongbok. Dr. Hyunjin is my team’s doctor–he’s currently apprenticing under my father’s doctor, Dr. Lee. Are you okay with me leaving to get some breakfast for you?”

Chris nodded, and Vixen left with a smile and a look for Dr. Hyunjin.

JK found Vixen in the small kitchen, frying egg rolls. He snagged one off the plate and she smacked his hand.

“Tonight went well, Bug.” He leaned against the counter, mouth full of egg.

She turned back to the stove, rolling another layer. “Names, JK. Yeah, it did. Thank you for helping me. How were the memories?”

“Better than I’d hoped. I think it helped that I was the one in power that time, going there to help instead of as a weak little kid, y’know.” “Mmmh.” Vixen flipped the roll onto the plate and sliced it neatly. “Hyunjin’s making sure they’re all physically okay, but I’m sure we’ll need to get them a counsellor, too. Should I hire one when we make it big?” she mused.

Jungkook swallowed another slice of egg roll and contemplated as he danced away from Vixen’s spoon. “It probably wouldn’t hurt, but I don’t think you need to worry about that at the present.”

“Right. Thanks, Kook.”

~~~

The boys were in pretty good shape, all things considered, so once they said they were ready for their assessments, Jungkook set them up.

Jin made and dropped off IDs for Bang Chan, Lee Felix, and Yang Jeongin–the names the boys chose for themselves–now that they were confirmed to stay as a part of Stray Kids for the foreseeable future. 

Chan became the Head Strategist and Hacker, Felix the Head of Security (Vixen’s bodyguards and strike team), and Jeongin was appointed one of her bodyguards.

Seo Changbin was her other main bodyguard, and the pair became known as the Double IN team.

Vixen’s close friend Minho was her spy in high society since he could gather intel on the male-only parties that she couldn’t attend. 

Her second spy was a street kid Jungkook had saved in the winter and introduced to Ara. He fell for her hard and rapidly agreed to join Stray Kids as its first member, though officially he was still unaffiliated with any gang or mafia. Jisung (or, as his contacts knew him, Han), was Vixen’s Head of Espionage.

Even the best-trained forces aren’t always perfect, and Ara’s small band often needed medical attention. Namjoon was able to get Hyunjin in with the Gray Gang’s doctor as an apprentice medic; when Hyunjin wasn’t busy patching up sparring wounds, he was acting as an infiltrator for Vixen, utilizing his good looks to their best advantage. He was kept in the wings, so he wouldn’t become easily recognized.

Since Jungkook couldn’t be with Vixen all the time, he began training Felix and Jeongin as her bodyguards and fighters. Felix was promoted to chauffeur once he got his license, and Jeongin, or I.N. –his street name– became the Head of Information.

Changbin became a member of Stray Kids by following Jungkook and Vixen from an underground fight he’d spectated at. Finding them curious, he stalked them back to their HQ, where they agreed to let him join once he proved his skills in the ring. As the son of a wrestler, he was a prime candidate for bodyguarding.

Vixen’s third and final spy, Kim Seungmin, was kept under wraps from all but her inner circle. He was needed on the inside of Gray, to uncover the more mundane information Namjoon and Seokjin were usually too busy to gather for her. These eight became Vixen’s closest friends and joined Jungkook in the ranks of honorary brothers.

A/N: Jungkook's nickname "Bug" for Ara is a shortened form of the nickname "Shutterbug" because she was always taking pictures.

[iamthecatwhotypes]

the letter (bts)

It started with an unsigned letter...

💘Pairing: Fem!OC x Yongbok/Secret Admirer | Sincerely AU 📚Genre: Sincerely... AU (m.list) | Romantic Angst 🔞Rating: 18+ ⌨Word Count: 4.4k ✋🏽Warnings: Unhealthy relationship (edging on neglect; quick to anger) 🗣Summary: Jinju's birthday started out rough... but a curious letter from a secret admirer gives her new hope. The problem is, which of her friends has a crush on her? 💌A/N: Hi! I'm new, but have been lurking for a while. I've had this idea in my head for a while and wanted to give this a try. If you have any constructive criticism or anything you want to say about this, please feel free to reach out. I'd love to hear from you! 😁If you want to read on AO3, you can! 🥰 I know a lot of people prefer to read a whole story when it's done. If you want me to tag you when this series is finished, let me know and I'll tag you when the finale drops.

There was something in the air that Friday night.

It felt… maybe a bit romantic, really. The sky had faded to a soft blue with fluffy clouds bathed in pastel pinks and oranges while the horizon was aglow in dazzling gold. Chasing after the cotton candy clouds from the east was a storm the color of spilled ink. They sprinted along the sky, gobbling up the half moon that hung low and bright.

Rainy nights were my favorite. I was convinced they washed away all the negativity of the day or week and left me with a clean slate.

Maybe it’ll sound a little crazy or overdramatic, but it felt like there was something fated in the crisp breeze that whipped through my hair. It felt like I was on the precipice of something exciting and new starting.

I loved the way it seemed like everyone around me was so happy while being bathed in the soft glow of the street lights that were flipping on one street at a time.

I loved nights like this. They made me think of home when I was young. I'd sit with my mom and brother and watch the lightning until either the storm ended, or I fell asleep. 

In my moment of nostalgia, I looked around for my boyfriend, Yongbok, hoping to wrap my hands around his arm and walk tucked up against him, but saw him already so far ahead of me that he was almost to the restaurant we were going to meet our friends at. 

I paused for a moment, my shoulders slumping against the sudden brunt of disappointment. My jaw went slack as my heart slid down my ribs into my gut and dissolved in its bath of acid.

Why was he so far ahead? He almost always walked with me. I mean, yeah, he was a much faster walker than I was, but he had a bit of height on me and naturally had a longer stride.

I blamed my outfit. I didn’t often wear skirts or heeled sandals. Even though the long champagne colored skirt I wore had a slit up to the middle of my leg, I felt awkward walking in it. It felt almost alien to dress this feminine. The bag I had brought was bulkier than I was used to as well.

I guess I felt a bit like a puppy that had yet to grow into its paws.

Despite all of that, he should have been walking beside me like a proper boyfriend would.

Although… we have been going through sort of a rough patch, I guess. We’d made plans to go out tonight to celebrate my birthday months ago. Maybe he felt like if he didn’t show up tonight, then all our friends would know we were having problems and he didn’t want them to notice. 

I hoped that meant he still wanted to try and work things out with me.

I heaved a sigh and hurried after him, nearly breaking into a sprint in order to meet him at the door. He held it open with his foot and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

A small part of me was worried he'd started to be embarrassed by me. I had gained a bit of weight since I stopped doing my normal dance classes. I didn't think it had been a lot, but I had caught him looking at my tummy a couple of times.

Maybe he was just excited for everything that we had planned to do tonight. 

I felt myself get excited at the idea he'd gotten me something nice.

Maybe he was going to finally propose and was just nervous.

Why would he be nervous though? It wasn't like I would say no!

I smiled up at him sheepishly when I lowered my head and slipped past him and into the restaurant.

I loved this restaurant. The walls were black and the lights that hung overhead were low. It smelled of meat and fish and spices.

It reminded me of how my family's house had smelled when I was a child and my grandmother was cooking.

I looked around, plastering a smile on my face and searching for my friends.

I spotted Namjoon’s freshly dyed purple hair in a far corner and grabbed Yongbok's wrist, pulling him along with me as I navigated towards the group, my smile full and authentic now. 

Yongbok pulled his hand from mine and skirted past me, almost bumping into a waitress with a tray full of sushi, gimbap, and a delightful smelling udon. 

She gasped and steadied the tray with her free hand, her mouth agape as I waved her on, apologizing quietly for his rudeness.

Why was he acting like this? He was being so rude and embarrassing!

I scowled at him and walked over to the table, forcing the smile to grace my face again as almost everyone looked over at me.

I could almost feel the judgement in their eyes as Jimin pulled a chair out for me and pushed it in as I sat while everyone at the table wished me a happy birthday. I smiled shyly at them and bowed my head several times in gratitude while holding my hands together in thanks.

Even though it should have been Yongbok seating me, I thanked Jimin anyway. 

He was always a gentleman.

I looked at Yongbok and sighed again when I saw him already deep in conversation with Jungkook who had just started getting a full sleeve of tattoos and, of course, Yongbok was curious about it. He’d wanted to get tattoos for a while now and Jungkook had been the only one in our friend group brave enough to start.

The tattoos I could see on his knuckles were hard to read in the quick moment I looked at, but they looked crisp enough to look decent.

“Look at you!” My best friend, Chaeyoung leaned close to whisper into my ear as she took my bag and admired it for a moment before hanging it from a hook under the table I didn’t know existed. “I bet Yongbok is just itching to get his hands on you tonight!”

She hid her giggle with her long, slender hand. I did my best to laugh along with her to avoid suspicion. It’d been such a long time since Yongbok had touched me… since he’d hugged me… I thought I would probably erupt with joy as soon as he even so much as held my hand.

“Well, you look stunning.” Chaeyoung continued sincerely before letting her eyes gaze at the candles flickering in the center of the table. She went far away for a moment. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but I am a little jealous you have a boyfriend on your birthday. Mine was so lonely.”

I looked her over and scoffed. She was always so elegant with her high cheekbones, small forehead, and full hips that swung like a pendulum when she walked. She was everything I considered to be perfect. I couldn’t understand why she was still single. “You’ll find the right guy soon!”

“I hope so.” Her shoulders slumped enough for her collarbone to peek out from under the sleeveless black cocktail dress she wore.

I nudged her with my arm and leaned close, glancing around the table quickly to see who was watching us. “Have you told… you know… how you feel?”

Her eyes flicked up to the man who sat quietly on the other side of the table, between Jungkook and Namjoon, staring at a glass of water that was sitting in a pool of its own condensation. She shook her head and pulled her waist length black hair behind her ear. “No. If he likes me, he needs to approach me.”

“What if he’s shy?”

She gave a nonchalant shrug and took a sip of her red wine, the glint of the candles catching her long, almond nails painted in a nude shade. She thought carefully for a moment and met my eyes. “I think he likes someone. He’s been acting differently recently.”

I nudged her again as a pair of waitresses came around, setting steaming bowls of clear soup in front of us and taking our entree orders. “It could be you.”

She offered me a smile. “I hope so.”

We giggled together before beginning to eat our soups.

I looked around the table at everyone laughing together and sat back with a smile. 

I hadn't known anyone when I moved to Seoul as a teenager. It was only once I had met Yongbok that anyone at this table came into my life.

My life had become so rich and full with everything everyone brought to share with me.

I couldn't imagine my life without them.

“So… Jinju….” Jimin rubbed his hands on his trousers and looked over at me with a smile. I met his gaze and raised a brow, waiting for him to continue, watching as he ran a hand through his thick blond hair and cleared his throat. He shifted his weight and turned towards me. “What… um… what are we doing afterwards? I think it's been kept a surprise from us when, really, we should have been the ones to surprise you.”

I laughed as he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, his eyes roving my face. 

His sudden attention on me was a little confusing for me. Jimin had always been kind, but I had written it off as him being polite to his friend's girlfriend. 

I couldn't lie though, it was nice to have a man talk to me so kindly.

Yongbok looked up at us too. His large eyes narrowed suspiciously while going from Jimin to me and back again.

That was odd. 

Was he jealous or had he just forgotten our plans? I couldn't be sure. 

I came back to myself and put on my friendliest smile while laying my hands on the wood table.

“But I love surprising you all! I hope you don't mind.”

I dipped my head shyly. I hoped I hadn't inadvertently caused offense. I really didn't think anyone would mind. I had never been a fan of birthdays and really just wanted the attention to be off of me.

Jimin chuckled and ran a hand down the black blazer he wore, waving the other to dispel my worry. He softened his hand and offered a gentle smile. “Of course not. 

“I thought that since we were so close to Lotte World, that we could go there after we eat and do a scavenger hunt. I have a little gift for the winner.” I had gifts hidden away in my purse for everyone though, but I wasn’t going to admit that now. 

“It’s raining now though, my dear.” Yongbok interjected, his deep voice tinged with a gravelly undertone, hinting that I was being ridiculous. He used the endearment to try and soften his tone.

“I…,” I didn’t have much time to respond before Taehyung piped up, his eyes still on his glass.

“I drove.” He pushed his white linen napkin along the edge of the glass before looking up at me first then quickly around the table and back to his glass again. He swallowed hard and shrugged a shoulder as the weight of the collective stare went to him. “I can’t fit everyone, but….”

He let his words fall away, thankfully saved by the waitresses and a pair of runners who came up to our table and laid our meals out before us.

I couldn’t help but notice Yongbok glower at him for a moment before whipping open his napkin and laying it over his lap.

What was wrong with him?

I glanced at Chaeyoung to see if maybe I was overreacting, but she was watching me worriedly as she plucked up a piece of beef.

I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but I knew it was hollow. I couldn’t lie to her very well.

We fell into eating a bit quieter than before.

I appreciated Taehyung stepping up to help keep my birthday perfect. At some point in time, without me even realizing, he and Jimin had become my friends too… genuinely.

I didn’t know what I had done to earn that, but I was very grateful. 

The world felt a little smaller and less scary with them in it.

Eventually, we finished our meals and looked outside to see the rain had become so heavy that the street was practically empty save for a few stragglers who were drenched and huddled into their jackets and wincing against the elements.

Jungkook was the first to speak, always quick and eager to help in any way he could. “I think we should take Jinju to the zoo tomorrow. Or… maybe the aquarium.”

Namjoon nodded, pointing at him as he clasped his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. “Namdaemun would be cool too.”

“Oh… the Seosomun Museum is close to there.” Jimin chirped, glancing at me as he crossed his legs and sat back in his chair. “We could make a day of it if we wanted to.”

“Oh!” Chaeyoung cried out and leaned forward, her brow pinched and her eyes narrowed. “We could go to Sky Pizza!” She turned to me and put her hand on my arm. “That’s Bong Joon-Ho’s restaurant in Parasite!”

“We’re taking a tour of Seoul tomorrow.” Yoongi suddenly spoke with a breathy, deep laugh. “We may as well go to the National Park Mountain Museum.”

“Where is that?” Chaeyoung pulled her phone from her purse and tapped the name into her map app then looked up with wide eyes. “Bro! That’s so far away!”

Namjoon smiled until his eyes were half moons and shook Yoongi’s hand. “I see you’re getting out more.”

“That’s almost in Gyeonggi! That’s like an hour away!”

I was about to say that I loved getting out of the city, but Yoongi spoke again, waving his hand, his pinky slightly curved.

“Jinju, what would you like to do tomorrow?”

Everyone’s eyes shifted over to me and it was suddenly hard to breathe. I blinked rapidly and felt my mouth grow dry as my jaw went slack.

I couldn’t choose the museum Yoongi had suggested even though it sounded wonderful. Chaeyoung would be too miserable travelling that far. I made a note to go there later on my own. I sat up straight with a bright smile, watching subconsciously as almost everyone mirrored my movement. “I think we should go to the aquarium, Seosomun Museum, and Sky Pizza. If that’s okay?”

I looked over at Chaeyoung as she wrapped her arms around mine with a giggle. “That’s gonna be so fun!”

“Let’s see if it’s still raining tomorrow.” Yongbok’s voice was drowned out by Taehyung and Jimin offering to drive all of us, which made him roll his eyes.

Part of me felt bad for him to be ignored. I knew he hated it, but maybe the others were ignoring him since he was in such a foul mood.

I tried to compensate for him by being the brighter one.

“I’m really excited. It’ll be nice to do some new things.” I smiled at no one in particular.

My eyes flicked to Yongbok as he clinked his shot glass together with Jungkook’s and threw his drink back. I hadn’t even realized the grapefruit soju on the table. Yongbok locked eyes with me and pointed at me with a grin on his full lips then poured himself another shot. He raised it towards me, waiting for a moment for our bewildered friends to quickly follow suit when they realized there was going to be an impromptu toast. 

“Here’s to our beautiful Jinju on her birthday.” Yongbok smiled and gave a chuckle, the mood brightening for a moment as our friends broke into a smile and parroted him before he continued, interrupting a few of them. “May we all be so accommodating.”

I thought I heard a hint of sourness to his tone that the others seemed to gloss over. 

I smiled and bowed my head in thanks to my friends before a crack of thunder shook the building and made the lights flicker. We jumped and looked to see if the building had been hit.

“I think that's our signal to go.” Namjoon finished off his beer and stood with the rest of the table following suit quickly. We followed him to the counter to pay.

“Thank you all for such a lovely evening.” I bowed to the group at the large double doors that were painted black with an ornate design painted gold in the center of both of them. “It was good to see you all again and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow!”

I gladly accepted a hug from Chaeyoung, Jimin and Taehyung then shook hands with Namjoon and Jimin. Yoongi and Jungkook both gave me a small bow before looking out the windows as a flash of lightning illuminated the sky for a moment.

“I'll drive you home, Namjoon.” Taehyung patted the man on his shoulder as Jungkook fished his keys from the pocket of his black trousers and Yoongi pulled his black blazer over his tight black turtleneck.

“You two walked, right?” Jimin turned to us, raising his brow as Yongbok nodded, a sense of disappointment seeming to wash over him as his shoulders drooped a little. “I'll drive you home.”

I stepped up to him with a smile and held my hands demurely before me. “Thank you for your help, Jimin. Yongbok and I appreciate it very much.”

The tips of his ears grew red as he tipped his head away with a smile and ran his hand through his hair again as Yoongi swung the door open for us, his hand up to shield himself from the rain.

“Thank you!” I put my hand on his shoulder as I brushed past him, my skirt quickly becoming plastered to my thighs as the rain threatened to drench me entirely. He nodded and gave the fastest smile I had ever seen before looking away. 

Yongbok put his hand on my waist, pulling me close and guiding me quickly to Jimin’s car. He pulled away and sat in the front, leaving me to start to slip in the back before remembering I didn't have my purse.

“I forgot my bag!” I stood despite Yongbok's grunt of disgust and shielded my eyes with my hand as a waitress came out with my bag. I took it from her with a bow. “Thank you!”

“Jinju! Get in the car!” Yongbok yelled through the window at me as I opened the door and dropped inside, thankful for the quickly heated interior.

“Sorry.”

“It’s…”

“Next time be more mindful.” Yongbok barked over Jimin, glowering at me from his spot as I sank into the back of my seat with wide eyes. “You're ruining the interior.”

My jaw went slack.

I was so confused.

He’d never berated me in front of other people before, let alone his closest friends. 

I don’t think he’s even ever raised his voice to me before. Why was he being so cruel? And on my birthday too. 

It made my heart drop as I lowered my head while Jimin stared at him, his playful, sweet eyes now dark and hard.

He moved his jaw from side to side before taking a deep breath and holding his hand up, palm down, trying to diffuse the situation. “Let’s not let a little rain ruin tonight. This car’s been through much worse than this.” He laughed, bringing me, at least, a little lightness and I relaxed. “I was getting the car washed one time and forgot to roll my window up until I was being sprayed in my ear.”

“Bro… you did what?” Yongbok stared in confusion at Jimin as he covered his face with his hands and laughed. 

Perhaps it was mean of me, but it was nice to see him be humbled after being rude to me.

“Yeah, I drove home with all the windows down to try and dry it out.” Jimin sighed and looked back at me when I covered my mouth as I giggled. “But anyway, don’t even worry about it. You’re fine, I’m not mad.”

I smiled and looked up at him through my lashes. “Thank you, Jimin.”

Jimin tried to get a conversation going, but with Yongbok’s mood, the short trip to our apartment felt like an eternity.

Jimin pulled up to the curb and put the car into park, twisting in his seat and reaching back to smile at me. “Happy birthday, Jinju. I’m sorry it rained, but hopefully tomorrow will be better.”

“I'm sure it will be. Thank you again for coming out with us and driving us home.”

Yongbok was out of the car and opening my door suddenly, his voice . “Remember your purse this time.”

I tried to smile but my lips refused to pretend.

I grabbed my purse and stepped out of the car, waving to Jimin before hurrying to catch up with Yongbok who was practically at the door of our building already. 

“What's wrong with you?” I glared up at him, watching as he threw his hands up and walked away. He went through the door to the stairs and let it slam behind him. 

I stood staring after him.

What happened? What had I done?

All I wanted to do was cry. 

I felt my chin tremble and remembered that my clothes were still wet. Even if my heart was breaking, I had to go take care of myself.

I went to the elevator and trudged my way to our door and tapped in the code. I slipped inside and stepped out of my shoes, holding my purse to my chest.

It only took a moment for me to hear him playing a video game loud enough that I was sure our neighbors would hear the woman screaming alongside the gunfire.

I felt so completely defeated. This wasn’t how I planned on my birthday going.

I had been so hopeful that today we would play nice and maybe it would start feeling like we were a couple again.

I wiped my eyes and went to the closet, dropping my bag into its place in the corner of my side. I went into the bathroom and began to draw a hot bath with a healthy scoop of lavender epsom salt.

I sank into the hot water carefully and sighed as I laid my head against the pillow, completely encased in the water.

I stared up at the ceiling and sighed. 

What was I supposed to do? Was there anything I could do to save the relationship?

It was just a rough patch. All couples go through rough patches. I did love him. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I didn’t want to just throw it away without trying.

The next morning as we were rushing to get out the door to meet with Jimin and the others he had picked up, I remembered at the last moment that I had forgotten my wallet inside my purse. When I grabbed it and yanked it free from my bag, a sloppily folded piece of paper fell to my feet.

What was this?

I crouched down and picked it up, tipping my head as I unfolded it, thinking it was a receipt.

Hello darling,

The words met me in a neat hand.

I drew a deep breath and glanced over my shoulder. It wasn’t Yongbok’s handwriting. Even when he did his best handwriting, this was remarkably different.

I continued to read it, grateful for the brevity of it.

I know I shouldn’t be writing this to you, but I feel that if I don’t do something to give me freedom from you, I’ll go mad. So, here’s the truth: I’ve liked you for a long time and wish you all the happiness and love in your life. You deserve the best life and to be treated like a queen. You inspire me to be a better man and I thank you for that. Although I don’t think you’ll ever know who I am, I am grateful to have you in my life.

My mind raced and my heart thundered.

Someone had… what? A crush? On me?

Who could this be? Why did they choose now to tell me? When had they put this in my bag? Had it been there for long and I just hadn’t noticed it?

No. It had to have been from last night since it was on top of my wallet.

I blinked several times as Yongbok called for me.

Someone from last night had a crush on me. One of my friends felt something for me.

Had they sensed things hadn’t been well between Yongbok and I and was aligning himself up to be my next beau?

Who was it?

I was going to end it there and wish you all the best, but my soul won’t let me sleep without saying the deepest secret I have. I know you’re taken and I am sorry to drop this in your lap now, but please forgive a poor, heartsick man because I do wish you were mine. Will I give this to you? I know I shouldn’t, but the thought that maybe, just maybe, one day it could happen, is to strong to resist. We’ll see what happens, I guess. But, for now, I am happy to have you as a friend. Take care. Eat well. Sleep well. Study well. You are loved.

It ended there without any mark of the sender.

I swallowed hard and felt my eyes prick with warm tears. I trembled as I brushed them away and stuffed the letter into my everyday bag.

I should have thrown it away. I should have been loyal to Yongbok, especially if I wanted to keep our relationship alive.

Why did I keep it?

I brushed past Yongbok, staring at his thin, well-shaped jawline and cool eyes and went out to Jimin’s car that was idling by the curb.

I looked up at the fluffy white clouds in the brilliant blue sky. 

Someone who loved me was looking at those same clouds.

What a strange and wonderful thought.

[bigkickguy]

men

I come to spread my transfem Roland propaganda btw

transfem roland

wahoo!! men!! hadkjfghakdfjhg also hell yea transfem roland is a huge brain idea - I'm a fan we love a cooler, gayer furioso sometimes women will put on a mask to hide their face in the mirror + slide past public perception instead of thinking about their identity lmao I also already hc angelica as trans most of the time - so they can be t4t together! <3

[nastymajesty]

touhou is my rebound from project moon she can fix me though. if i believe hard enough she can fix me

[yoon-kooks]

as always i appreciate the love & support yall have given p&p🥺💖

that being said, i think im probably moving on from it soon (aka theyll be making it official for one last hurrah🤠) so i can focus on new projects!

[oddinary4bts]

Hiii everyone!! As you might have noticed, I released a teaser for the next chapter of The Tailor of Chaos! Go check it out✨

Alsooooo I am very very happy to announce that I’m going to release a drabble of Jungkook and reader from The Boy with Galaxies in his Eyes🤩 we’ll get to see their first time😏

Last but not least, the Taehyung fic for the life goes on series is maybe a third of the way in?? I think you are gonna love it💜

Anyway, peace out, love you all🫰🏼

[writtenwhalien]

a lover's redemption (pjm) | masterlist

pairing ↠ mafia leader!park jimin x reader

genre ↠ mafia AU — romance/action (angst, fluff, smut)

summary ↠ Blood, business and betrayal is all that Park Jimin has ever known, but when you cross paths again, the stakes are raised even higher and he finds himself battling his conscience, and his heart.

word count ↠ in progress

18+ | warnings ↠ drinking, explicit sexual content, all sorts of crime (including: drug and arms trade, embezzlement, mentions of kidnapping and attempted kidnapping), frequent use of guns and knives, gore (non-descriptive), mild injuries to multiple characters including reader, death (descriptive).

teaser

i. prologue

chapter 1. way down we go

chapter 2. before the storm

chapter 3. the new normal

chapter 4. coming soon

future chapters to be updated here

taglist is open – dm/comment/send an ask to be added <3

[moonchild1]

now i loved this tv series so reading this was so much fun again i dipped my toe into a genre i don't normally read and it was perfection and oohhhh the hurt that comes with it so worth it 😩🖤

please, lie to me | pjm (m.)

pairing: seelie!jimin x mundane!reader

summary: “centuries of loyalty vs. only months of fucking, how could you miscalculate?”

rating: 18+

genre: urban fantasy, shadowhunters!au, angst, smut, fwb!au? (not really), faerie!au

word count: 11k (lol what happened)

warnings: explicit sexual content, multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex (the fae don’t do protections), pet names, praise kink, fingering, breast play, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, rough sex (what’s new), creampie, manhandling, exhibitionism, marking, edging, forced orgasm, light bruises, a lot of begging, some messy emotional sex, poor OC but Jimin just–

a/n: this is part of The Fabled Collaboration hosted by @kimtaehyunq (thank you for this gorgeous banner and for being patient with me >.<), @joontopia & @whipped-for-kpop-fics. i’ve had this idea even before i joined this event so what a coincidence! the fic will have aspects from the Shadowhunter Chronicles by @cassandraclare, particularly The Mortal Instruments. i also wanna thank @lemonjoonah for being supportive when i’m nervous of writing this genre that i’m only used to reading 🥺.

also, listen this song/score while reading, especially near the end to be in the feels (i cried while writing for the first time lol)

UNEDITED 🤡

― masterlist — navigation 

“To love is to destroy”

That was a running joke you kept hearing with your Nephilim friends.

Keep reading

[raplinenthusiasts]

DUALITY

[vinetae]

Vanilla and Jasmine - Part 2

Genre: Hybrid!AU, Mafia!AU, Smut, Angst, 18+

W.C: 7k

Pairings: Jimin x Reader, Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: Ohhh boy it's a lot. So first off starting with out appitizers is a little bit of angst. Followed by smut, smut, smut- uhhhh smut, and oh yeah more smut. Sex ed. talk, Jimin teaches Y/n the ropes, Jungkook gets a lil cray cray, Namjoon is the dominating daddy as always -how fucking considerate is he- we got some sad moments, and happy moments!! Jimin is literally so in love with Y/n like- guys it's almost too much for me. Jungkook and Y/n have a little flingy flingy thing going on until they don't 👀 Flashbacks, blowjobs, unknowing of sexual things!Reader, dom (like really really dom)!Jungkook, Soft Dom!Jimin (we'll see that later in the chapters 😉) uh Horny!Taehyung (same bro-) and eomma Jin because literally he is so precious. Sope being sope as always. Emotional reader and she's wishy washy on her decison because of 🌟 T R A U M A 🌟

A/n: Spent all day but literally guys it's so long -that's what she said- Like non-stop writing kind of long. Yeah. So, enjoy!!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Fuck him

Fuck him

FUCK. HIM. 

Your body felt absent while laying flat out on Jimin's soft comforter. He'd been tucked in the corner, invested in some little self-help book he'd started a while back. Your limbs stretch out, high-pitched whines exhale past your lips in agony. 

"Jimin-" you moan out, feeling the numbing of your pills finally searing off. It had been a few hours, that you just laid here in silence. Planning all of their funerals, might you add. Your heat had decided to wait a little longer until you'd finally build up some good connections with the guys. Learned a bit more of their native tongue, without the reliance of Jungkook's horrible translations to aid. 

You admire how the soft glow from Sun's last drops of rays beam down into the room, illuminating his heavenly figure. Light, sandy blonde hair gets brushed back as he flips to another page. The agonizing sight leaves a burning ache between your thighs. Want nothing more than to just throw that book to the pits of hell and mark him all the way up his neck. You want his hands soothing the pained mumble of silent suffering below your stomach. The thought of just having his entire body to yours forced a large moan past your lips. His head quirks to the side to check on you. 

His heart truly did break at the sight. Your wrists tied at the joints to his chrome headboard, while the roll of your ankles bound to his footboard. The sweat drips down the sides of your forehead. Your pink tinted lips part, desperately staring at him to try and coerce a move. The flush in your cheeks, heavy and smeared. 

He also knew that what you wanted hadn't been from your own consciousness. You hadn't mentioned one thing to him about any of the things you've been begging aloud for, for the past 3 hours. Especially not 'Alpha's cock'. Whatever that meant. 

His eyes scan over the little words pressed in paper, as he flips to the other side. Trying to block out the strings of plea echoing in his room. 

"J-Jimin please-" desperation is clear in your tone. "I-I was so good!" Tears sliding down your cheeks faster than a slip-and-slide. Your emotions had fluctuated back and forth for the past three hours. Going from highs, to lows, usually cussing him out or begging him to fuck you against the window. No inbetween with this one. 

His heart hurt over this, truly. He didn’t know how much pain this would actually cause, Jungkook’s heats usually are pretty chill. 

But maybe that’s because Namjoon has had him on suppressants for almost half a decade now..

Your back arches off the bed, arms stretching out to pleasingly grip onto something to release from this demon. It had felt like a thousand ropes coiled around your neck, snagging you towards his way, just for even the tiniest bit of comfort. You just wanted his touch. Your body felt like it had been set on fire, the ache in your stomach now boiling to its highest level. 

You felt like dying. 

Not an ounce of embarrassment shines through as you cry out for him. The excruciating torture he heard taint your voice made a knock at the door abrupt. 

"Jimin! Let me in!" Jungkook's voice sounded urgent, laced with panic. Your body recoils at the thought of Jungkook going anywhere near Jimin, but something inside had led you to another thought. 

"Jimin isn't our Alpha."

"N-No.. I l-love him-" 

"You don't love him. You're just so pathetic,  wanting someone's cock." The voices' harsh words collide with your groggy senses. Lips parting to deny the thoughts with a slight whine, but somewhere deep down,

You knew it was true. 

All of a sudden you're met with Jungkook's body towering over yours. His palm placed against your forehead, pinching his nose from the prominent stench. 

"Did you try giving her an ice bath?" Jungkook twists his attention to Jimin, who'd shaken his head. 

"You told me to wait it out." Jimin replies, eyeing the empty pill bottle on his side table. Jungkook's eyes follow in horror. 

"Did you give them all to her!?!" Jungkook's voice toiled with anger, which made your pussy clench around nothing. The same voice so desperately trying to get you out of these chains. 

'He can be our alpha. Just imagine, having his little pups. Being his little breeding bitch, only useful for giving him the babies he deserves.'

"N-No..!" You cry out, trying to rid yourself of the thought all while repeating;

Jimin

Jimin

Jimin 

Jungkook.

..

Jimin's calm exterior quickly diminished when he noticed Jungkook's panicked tone. "Well she had been complaining of some pain so I gave her another dose." Jimin didn't really get the big deal. It didn't have any type of hormone altering additives to them, he read the back panel himself. 

"Her heat is trying to fight off the pills. The stronger dosage you give her, the more she's gonna fight them back. Her body is in overload!" Jungkook's quick to untie the knots around your limbs, as you quickly jump up to sit on your knees, knuckles digging deep into the comforter to try and control yourself. Your head hangs low, as deep breaths exhale your chest in agony. 

You couldn't let this win. 

Jungkook's expression scrunched when the scent of your heat hit his nostrils. He could already feel the stir in his cock, his own needs begging to tower this situation. Jungkook backs away, chest heaving while his hand grips the doorknob for support. 

"G-Get her in the tub. I-It'll help with the te- fuck.." Your head lifts, knowing damn well what Jungkook had been struggling with. Instead, you put all your might into Jimin's soft features. Focusing on that instead. 

Jimin snakes his arm under your side, lifting you from the bed to help you to the bathroom. Your body halts itself, eyes glancing at Jungkook's pained frame. A silent word comes to mind. 

The next thing you know you watch as Jungkook's fist slam back into the door, busting a hole wide open for everyone's viewing glory. His body trembles, eyes burning into yours as they melt away from chocolate brown, to a deep amber. He reaches out towards the door, calling for his owner weakly. 

"N-Namjoon!" His voice is hoarse and raw. A low growl slipping through, churning the fire in your stomach even more. Jimin's quick in stripping you of the green set pajamas Jin had bought for you a few days ago. His head tilting away, as he guides you into the ice cold tub. Your body pushes against his, fighting weakly for the right to not get in that Alaska bath. 

"Come on, Y/n you have to get in-" your fingers grip into the tightness of his skin, nails leaving deep imprints in their path. 

"Jimin please- please!" Your begs aid in no victory. He lowers you to the edge of the tub, tugging on the clasp of his belt. 

"We'll get in together, come on" he's soon stripped of all his items, left in only navy blue boxer briefs, coiled tightly around his thighs, meeting in the center for what was your rightful gift. Hands quick to fly up to tug the material down, he stops your actions. "No- I meant in the bath. I'll get in with you, okay?" Your voice pleads out in high pitched whines. 

"I don't want you in the bath, I want you in me!" His eyes widen, as you hear the low growl coming from outside the door. An idea tugs your thoughts. You stand, quickly making your way down the stairs before Jimin has any time to catch you. Completely bare, your voice calls out in sing-songy tones. 

"Jungkook!~"

"Fuck.." You hear him grumble. Eyes scanning over the room, ignoring the rest of the guys. 

Or.. maybe you don't have to. 

Hands raised in the air as a sort of invitation, for all the men to see your bare self. You could already smell their delicious pre-cum soaking through all of the underwear at the sight. 

"Who wants to fuck me!"

..

"Y/N GET BACK HERE-" Jimin's voice is rasp and harsh as he runs after your quick, and quite nude self with a towel to try and keep you decent. 

"No! You refused, so I go!" Your eyes set on Jungkook's figure who'd been sat on the couch's edge, nursing the tip of his beer in cope. A smirk plasters your lips. Your body sways itself over to his side, as you wrap your arms around his neck. His Adam's Apple bobs up then down from your proximity. "Kookiee~" you whine, straddling his lap with ease. His lips part, hands hesitant to hold your hips as he feels the warmth of your pussy side across his clothed cock that'd been begging to attention. 

"What… in the fuck is going on.." Yoongi quietly remarks, watching the pornographic scene unfold, chugging down a glass of Jungkook's stashed Banana Milk. 

"Jimin, why doesn't she have any clothes on?" Namjoon questions, head craning away out of respect for you. Some of the boys do the same. Others enjoy the free show. 

Jimin groans, trying to pry your body from Jungkook's,shielding your bare form with his own proportions. "Jungkook told me to give her an ice bath, but she didn't want to get in so I said I'd get in with her but now she's really fucking horny." He was displeased in this behavior, but mainly in himself. Had he just let his pride go and given you what you needed, you wouldn’t be straddling his friend’s lap, begging for his cock. Jimin’s hands clenched in anger. 

Hoseok lets out a chuckle, glancing up from the screen of his IPhone. "Makes sense why she'd go for Jungkook first." Their heads crane over to his comment, as your hands are halfway down Kook's jeans, taking his hard cock in your hand. Jungkook's head lulls back, hands kneading at your hips in agony. It was taking his everything he possibly could as to not flip you over and fuck you on this couch for everyone to watch. 

"What do you mean makes sense!?" Jimin's hands are no use for tugging you off. The mind of a mid-heat dog hybrid was much more determined than a simple human. 

"S-Someone please h-help!" Jungkook's whine pushes Namjoon from his spot on the couch, grabbing your hips to aid Jimin's struggles. The two men groan in frustration, Namjoon silently cursing under his breath. 

"Holy fuck, she's strong." He comments, trying another round. Jungkook's hips involuntarily grind up against yours, nearly chasing his own selfish high. 

"Hot damn, they're really gonna fuck right here." Jin chuckles, resting his chin against his palm to enjoy the show. His legs spread wide, his finger caught between plump lips. 

Taehyung turns around, eyes widening at the sight. "Holy shit that's hot." Hand unconsciously running along the outside of his jeans, toying with the zipper. 

"Tae are you gonna jack off to this?" Hoseok butts in, scoffing at the younger man's shameless actions. He smirks, unbuttoning his jeans to slide them down his thighs, watching as they circle his ankles. 

"Fuck yeah I am. Who needs shitty porn plots when you got these two." His fingertips dance along the seams closing around his cock, running a shutter through his body at the touch. Taehyung breaths out, palming his hand to his cock in a slow, teasing manner. “Slap her ass, Koo” He calls out. 

“Tae!” Jimin’s voice strung with annoyance towards his so-called ‘friend’. Taehyung’s shoulders lift to shrug. 

“We were all thinking it.” His tone, laced nonchalantly. 

“Actually I was thinking more of Kook bending her over.” Yoongi’s voice cuts in, which makes all the heads -except for yours and Jungkook’s, which had been so desperate to get two different things-. Yoongi’s glass lifts, cupping his lips around to gulp down a few sips. His body leaned against the side table’s edge now, peaked with curiosity towards the scandal unfolding in their living space. “You know? Give her the ol’ ‘doggy’.” He chuckles at the joke. 

All’d been quiet -except for yours and Jungkook’s struggling moans-.

“Tough crowd.” After a few beats of silence, he plops back down into the couch. Legs unconsciously spread, signaling his interest in the scene. Jin’s lips part slightly, adding in his own two cents. 

“Why not just stuff ‘em in the basement for a while ‘til they calm down.” 

“No.” Jimin’s quick to retort, sending his hyung a bold glare. Jin’s body shifts to the side, uncomfortable with the energy Jimin exceeded.

“

Namjoon's eyes roll. "Number one, Jungkook would refuse a condom. When Jiyeon comes over, she makes sure to always stay on birth control. With Y/n’s body, she’s already too far gone to try, plus it takes days to start working." He stands, pulling at your nape gently. Your head whips around, staring down the tall blonde. His voice lowers, rolling a wave of need through your lower body just like before. 

“Y/n, if you get off I’ll give you a surprise.” Your ears perk at the word, twisting around on Jungkook’s lap to face the brooding man. A smile tugs the corner of his lips, as he continues. “That means all the way off.” Your legs are hesitant, but with the look he’d been giving you, you’re quick to hop off, eager for the gift. His hand reaches behind your ear to scratch. 

“Good girl.”

..

This.. was the surprise?

Namjoon slides a little box towards your feet, crossing his arms in sync. “Well, don’t just stand there. Open it.” You bend at the knees, curious to see what you’d been promised for being good. Even though you knew you hadn’t. 

This-

Was not what you were expecting. 

His eyebrow quirks up, tilting his head in curiosity. “Do you like it?” 

Your hands poke at the little box tucked into the corner, buried underneath a few newspaper folders. He sighs, lowering himself to the ground to meet your level, helping unbox the item. In just a few seconds, he’s holding a strangely shaped object, almost like the bananas you saw using to make ice cream sundaes for movie night. Only, this had been a lot more… plastic-ey?

“Know how to use it?” His question pulls you from your train of thought. Head lifting, slow to nod. Whatever it is, you’re sure you could figure out how to use it. 

..

Five hours. 

Five fucking hours it took you, trying to figure out how to use Namjoon’s gift. In the shower, in the sink, hell, you even tried using it to clean the blinds with. Nothing had been working. You’d thought it might be just something like a puzzle. Something the care center used to let you and the other pups play with in your young years. But this - had been something new for sure. 

At first you thought it had been food. Yeah no, you were quick to rule that one out. 

Next, it might’ve been a vase of some sort. Nope, no flowers would fit either. Actually, there’d been no hole to even make it a vase. Don’t know how you got that idea..

Finally, you’d try using it as a hair curler. Seeing Taehyung using something similar. Only, this hadn’t gotten hot. So, maybe you had to use heat. Then, it kinda started to melt like ice cream. 

So after many tries and fails, and a big glob of Namjoon’s gift sitting on the floor, you’d decided to give up. 

Just as you were about to pack up what little glob you could back into the box, a knock sounded outside the door. Ears perking in curiosity, taking a sniff of the air. Who was this?

“Come in.” You call out, while trying to use a little page from Jimin’s books as a scooper-kinda-thing to put the melted pile into its box. Hadn’t worked very well either. 

“Hey, Y/n if you’re having trouble I can - what the fuck happened in here?” His eyes widen like saucer plates at the messed up room. The curtains ripped from i’s hooks out of their hooks, courtesy of your anger fit. Bed sheets all junked up from your little tantrum, and finally, the pink glob of goo sitting in front of you. His eyebrows knit together in confusion, bending down to meet your level, his voice is soft and sweet. 

“Uh= what.. Were you trying to do?” You huff, slapping your palm face down onto the floor in frustration. 

“Stupid thing is not good.” His head tilts to the side, hand reaching up to stroke your cheek gently, making your anger simmer just a bit. 

“Was it too.. Big?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“What?”

“Uh.. you know. Did it hurt too much?” 

“Well yeah, I burned my finger for this stupid thing.” 

“You.. what?” 

Now you both were confused. 

Just then, a set of footsteps march into the room, mouth dropping at the sight. 

“Y/n?” Your head lifts, body scooting away from Namjoon’s tall figure in cowardice. Was he mad? Were you not supposed to heat it up? 

Your body’s quick to tuck itself further behind Jimin’s using his as a shield. Hands trembling, as your voice begins to break. A flow of tears pricks your eyes in fear. “Pl-please- don’t send me back- I’m sorry! I’ll fix it!” 

Namjoon lowers his body until the three of you are sitting on the floor. Jimin’s hand reaches back, pulling you to his chest instead. You yell out, not wanting to get closer to Namjoon, but Jimin’s embrace keeps you planted. “Y/n-” His voice is soft and nurturing. Your cheeks burned with red, as more streams of tears stained your face. 

You could barely croak out; “Pl-please.. I don’t wanna go back..” 

Both the men’s hearts break at the words. How could they ever send you back to such a place? Anger burned in Namjoon’s chest at the thought. His hand reaches down, placing itself upon your knee to sooth you. “You’re not going back, Y/n. I promise.” You could feel Jimin’s palms rubbing circles into your back, which made you calm down just a bit for Namjoon to add on. “You’re here to stay, no matter what the boys say, okay?” You nod, making the two smile. 

“Now,” His head quirks over to the melted pile of goop you’d somehow created. “What happened here?” 

..

They both had been too stunned to speak. 

“So.. you’re telling me that.. You somehow managed to melt a dildo..” Namjoon’s strange sentence made your head tilt. “And you used it to curl your hair?” 

“Tried to, mister squidward. Tried to.” Jimin chuckles at your words, explaining them to his hyung. 

“I let her watch a few episodes of spongebob.” The two laugh in unison. 

“What is so funny?” Your arms cross, huffing. You’re hurt on how they couldn’t let you into such an.. What’s the word.. It’s something to do with being inside. And it’s funny…

“It’s just-” He could barely speak, laughing so hard at the thought of you using Taehyung’s flat iron to melt the sex toy. 

“It’s unheard of. That’s all.” Jimin cuts off Namjoon, speaking in his place. Once he’s calmed down, he asks once more. 

“So.. you DIDN’T know how to use it, huh.”

You shake your head. “You looked uncomfortable giving it to me.” 

“Because it was to help with your heat.” Your eyebrow lifts in confusion. 

“How?” They both exchange an awkward look, before Namjoon stands up. 

“Wow, would you look at the time- uh Jimin you’ve got this, right?” He’s quick to make it to the door before Jimin gets a say in his exit. 

“Wait hyung!-” 

Slam.

..

“Oh so I-”

“Mhm.”

“And that’s why Namjoon-”

“Mhm.” 

“And it goes in my-” 

“Yes, yes. Right on the money.” You glance down, lifting your butt to look up under you before giving him a confused expression. 

“I’m not sitting on money.” 

“I- … that’s an expression.” 

“Huh.” You think, sighing. “You humans talk weird.” He chuckles, nodding. 

“Indeed we do.” A few moments of silence pass by before you comment. 

“So why did I need it?” 

“Well, Namjoon needed something to get you off Jungkook. And because it would’ve helped with your heat.” 

“Hmm, that doesn’t answer my question.” His eyebrow quirks, not fully understanding the assignment. You crawl over to his side of the floor, meeting at face level. “Why did I need it? It’s not like I’ll die without using it.” 

“Well, it feels good.” Your head tilts to the side.

“How so?” 

“Jesus, Y/n-” He lets out a frustrated breath, making you back away. Ears turning downwards. Hands coming to rest in your lap, as you back down from the question. 

“Nevermind.” 

He glances to your side, sighing. “No, sweetie that’s not what I meant-” 

“You know, why don't people teach me here? It’s like you think I’m stupid.” His hands come to catch your cheeks, thumbing over your skin lightly, bringing your face to his. 

“You’re not stupid, Y/n. Don’t even think that either. It’s just-” He pauses for a second, before continuing. “It’s an awkward conversation.” 

“How so?” 

“Because it talks about stuff humans are afraid to show.” 

You think for a second. “Like.. feelings?” 

He pauses. “Well.. I mean it does have something to do with feelings..”

Your back sits up, posture straightening out of curiosity. “Tell me.. Please?” 

Fuck, he couldn’t resist those puppy eyes. 

“Okay, okay it’s just-” He sighs, chuckling to himself. “Can’t believe I’m having to have this talk right now..” 

Your hand reaches out to hold his, pleading to know the answer. “It’s okay. It’s just you and me. No.. awkward stuff.” His lips roll off a chuckle, hand coming to stroke your hair, admiring your cuteness. 

“You’re adorable, you know that?” 

“I’m not a door- oh. Is that an expassion?”

 He nods. “Expression, yes.”

“Jiminnn” You whine. 

“Right, right.. So uhm-” He lets a breath pass by, before pulling out his phone. “You know what? Maybe YouTube will explain it bette-” Your hand grips his, restricting him from pulling out his phone the rest of the way. 

“No. You teach me.”

A thought comes to mind, pressing a miniature smoke to his lips. 

“Teach.. Or show?”

..

“Wait- she really had never heard of a dildo before?” Jin chuckles out, draining the rice for the fourth time. 

Namjoon nods, snatching a bite of his apple. “Makes sense. I mean who’d just be having toys laying around in that facility anyways?” 

“Wait- Y/n used a dildo and you guys didn’t tell me!?” Taehyung faints a pained expression, clutching to his chest while entering the room. Namjoon’s eyes roll at his drama. 

“Number one, why would we tell you if she used it or not? Number two, aren’t you supposed to be down there with Kook right now?” Taehyung shrugs, peeling back the skin of his banana for a bite. 

“He sounded fine. Told me to leave. Think he just wanted to jerk it in peace.” Namjoon pinches the skin on his nose bridge, sighing at the younger male’s decision. 

“Did you at least chain his leg?” Taehyung’s eyebrow quirks. 

“We have chains?” 

The two older males share a horrified look. 

..

Fuck. 

Fucking. 

“Fuck!” Jungkook’s voice echoes the empty room, groaning in frustration at the stench. His head bangs back against the wall, as silent, pained tears roll down his cheeks. 

Your stench to be exact. 

Your heat had been like a steak taunting a lion. Especially with your little behavior earlier had the tip of his cock more red than Santa’s sleigh. He’d tried everything to get rid of it. After about the seventh jerk session, he’d given up. Learning to just bear with the pain for the next couple of days. 

It’d all been Jimin’s fault really. If he would’ve gotten you on those fucking pills like Namjoon told him to, he wouldn’t be the one down here suffering with a raging hard on and sweating bullets. 

It should be him down here, not Jungkook. 

He’d done nothing wrong. In fact, Jungkook tried helping by staying away from you! For days on end, he did everything he could to stay away. Going to mind-numbing basketball games with Yoongi, helping Hoseok go out and shop for some new knives for his collection, hell! He even took up knitting! 

Fucking KNITTING.

Now here he is, being treated like the bad guy. The one who fucked up YOUR heat schedule. Yeah sure. 

His hand comes to squeeze his abdomen as soft whines roll from his lips. He was paying the price for something he never bought in the first place. 

..

“When you sais show I thought you were gonna-” 

“I am. This is showing you.” Your eyebrow raises, questioning his ways of teaching this. His hands gripped the two barbies tightly, explaining the process as he went along. “So then the sperm- are you even listening?” You shake your head, pulling yourself from the train of thought. 

“W-Where’d you get these Barbies anyways?” 

He sighs, setting the plastic dolls on the floor. “My little cousin comes over here sometimes. She left two here for me to keep.” 

A smile creeps your lips. “Cute.” 

He chuckles, picking the dolls back up once more. “Okay, so as I was saying the sperm-” 

“Do we have that?” 

He stops for a second. “You mean hybrids?” You nod. “Yeah, I mean that’s how a baby is made so-” Your hand placed on top of his, stopping the little show. 

“So where do you keep it?” 

“Uh.. in the testes, like I said.” You nod, humming. Finger placed against your lip, pondering the images. His head tilts, catching your eyes. “Ready?” 

“For?” 

“Me to keep going.” You hum in question, pulling the plump of your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“I think I got it now.” He smiles, silently thanking the universe for this being over. 

“Alright so you-” 

“But what about hybrid heats?” 

“What?” 

You stand, placing your hands on your hips. “I’m a hybrid, Jimin. I know your body now, but what about mine?” 

He’s silent for a second, before responding. “Uh.. you could ask Jungkook.” 

You huff, arms throwing up into the air. “I thought I could ask my mate instead! You’re supposed to know everything about me!” His eyes widened in shock. 

“Y-Y/n.. I’m not-” 

“Ugh, forget it.” You quickly walk out the door, slamming it behind you in the process. 

..

Jungkook’s body reeked of sweat and grime. His heat, for some reason, felt as if it was ten times worse this month. Eyelids flutter to stay open, as his chest heaves with might, as if fighting himself. As he laid there on the hard mattress, his ears perked at the sound of a door opening. Feet trotting down the stairs, before your voice groans with disgust. 

“Ew, it smells.” His fists clench at the sight. 

“Nice to see you too.” He bites back with gritted teeth. Your eyes scanned across his sprawled out body, laid flat against the mattress which hadn’t looked the least bit comfortable. A slight pang in your heart rang at the sight. His body looked exhausted and worn out. The charcoal, natural bangs stuck to his forehead made a frown tug on your lips. You lower your body to meet his level, hand unconsciously coming to brush the sweaty locks from his face. A low growl rumbled in his chest. 

He turns over, facing the wall instead of you. “What do you want.” His voice is harsh and cold, unlike his body. 

Your butt lands on the floor, sitting next to the mattress. “Jimin told me about babies.” 

That made Jungkook’s stomach churn with want. Fuck, why did it have to be you of all people to come down and tell him this? Saying it like that made him want to-

He shoos the thoughts away. “So why are you telling me?” 

Your body rolls over his, sitting in front of his face to make him pay attention. “He used barbie dolls.” That made Jungkook chuckle. He sits up, leaning against the wall. Talking as if he’d just run a marathon. 

“Dolls?” 

“Mhm.” 

“So why tell me this again?” Your eyes soften to meet his, a pouty expression lowering your lips in plea. 

“He only taught me his way of doing stuff.” Jungkook’s eyebrow quirks. 

“Sex.” He comments, making you nod. 

“And when I tried asking about the hybrid part he-” 

“Listen Y/n,” He twists to the side to meet your eyes. Trying his hardest to fight the urge of not just taking you right on this dusty, greasy mattress, breeding you for his own, making you cry out his name as he pounds into you like a-

He shakes the thoughts away once more. This time, being even more of a pain to get rid of. “Even though I live here, other than Namjoon, none of the other guys really know how it works for hybrids.” Your head lowers, nodding.

“I should’ve guessed that..” A few moments of silence pass before you continue. Grabbing onto the sleeve of his oversized white tee, you give him the most puppy-like begging eyes you could muster. “Can you pleeeease with cherries on, teach me??” He chuckles. 

“First off, it’s ‘pretty please with cherries on top’. And secondly, why me?” 

“Because you’re a hybrid, dummy.” 

“Mmm, well Namjoon knows the same as I do. Maybe a little more.” Your hand lowers to grip onto his, guiding his palm to your heart. -Which just happened to be under your breast-

“I want you to teach me.” A low growl echoes through the room, making the same fire burn in the pit of your stomach. His fingers lightly clench onto your breast, earning himself a little whine from you. 

“Say it again.” His voice seemed like it changed in an instant. Your eyebrow raises, but obeys. 

“I want you-” 

“There. Keep saying it.” His hand takes control over yours, guiding your palm to press into his crotch. You both let out similar moans at the touch. His lips lower to meet yours, grazing over the plump goodness, with the protruding of his teeth. Breath toys on the edges as he whispers in a lowered tone. “I’ll do you one better, baby girl. Forget teaching, I’ll show you. But I want you to do one thing for me.” 

His tongue pokes out to graze across your bottom lip, making a whine slip from your end. Bodies both now share the same fiery heat and touch, as your hands reach out to grip at his neck. “A-Anything..” 

A smirk presses his lips, as he pulls you to straddle his lap. 

“I want you to scream so loud that everyone in this damn city knows my name.” 

..

The clock ticks against the wall like a death bomb. Any minute, you’d be back up with a smile on your face from getting the explanation you deserved. Jimin lets out a sigh, plopping back against the bed, wondering if what he’s been doing really was the best thing for you. He absolutely adores you and all, but something felt off about it. Like, you’d be much better off with your own people. He practically forced you into learning his language, etiquettes, manners, and biology, without even asking if you’d wanted to. Being forced to do something you didn’t want..

Was exactly what the center had done to you. 

He groans out, using his forearm as a shield against the brightly lit fireplace lights. Soon, a few footsteps echo through the room with a large slam of the door against his wall.

“Jimin, where’s Y/n?” Namjoon’s quick to ask, frantically searching around the room for you. Jimin lets out a sigh, leaning back down onto his wallow bed. 

“She’s talking with Jungkook. Check his room.” He replies, turning over to face his fireplace. Watching as the embers crackle. 

“Jungkook’s in heat!” 

..

“Fuck- Oh God, Y/n..” His head throws back, basking in the way her lips wrap around his cock so delicately. The swirl of your tongue doing a number on his mental state. Your lips part, popping off just a bit to see how he was doing. 

“Is this good?” His chest heaves of a deep groan, watching as your eyes twinkle with innocence, admiring the way you’d been sucking on his cock for the last two minutes. His tattooed hand lowers, tightening his grip of your roots sternly. 

“You’re doing great baby, keep it up.” he praises, which sends a wave of arousal coursing through your body. Eyes screwed shut, lips falling apart at the pleasure of your lips. You choke back a few times, before finally popping off for the last time. 

“What’s that white stuff?” You ask, as his lead lowers, chest heaving a light chuckle. 

“Cum.” 

“Where are we going?” 

This just makes him laugh harder. “No, baby girl. This,” He lifts the tip of his finger, swiping a little off the slit before pressing it to your lips. 

“Open.” He commands. Your lips part, as he presses the salty liquid against your tastebuds. “Is cum.” 

Your face scrunches, processing the flavor. “It tastes like Namjoon’s cooking..” He laughs, nodding. 

“Salty, right?” You nod. His fingers grip the tip of your chin, meeting your lips in the middle for a sloppy, yet arousing kiss. His hands come to lift your knees, sliding down the little pajamas shorts Jimin had bought you. 

Jimin…

“So fucking sexy.” He groans out, slipping your panties and shorts off his one go. His hands are quick to guide you to hover you over his lap, rubbing the length of his cock between your soaked folds. Hands gripping onto his shoulders for support, as his finger comes to press between your legs, activating some kind of button. You thrust your head back, mouth drawing out a loud and whiny moan. Fingernails digging into the buff of his shoulders.  

“Yeah, you like that?” His free hand comes to rip away your satin pajama shirt that Jimin had also bought for you. 

Fuck..

Jimin.

Your lips part, chest pressing into his as you felt the tip of his cock line up with your entrance. His mouth presses hot kisses along the side of your neck, paying extra attention to the little sweet spot hidden on your shoulder blade. His teeth, baring and pleading to sink down. To claim you as his own, to where no other fucking man would ever touch his little baby aga-

“Alright you two, party’s over!” Namjoon’s voice calls out, as the four men rush down the stairs. All except Namjoon’s eyes widen from the men, as they take in this pornographic sight. 

“Holy shit.. They actually did it..” Taehyung comments in awe. 

Namjoon’s eyes roll at the younger’s comment. “Time to put the genitals away, kids.” 

“Speak for yourself.” Taehyung adds, already moving to peel off his button down tan shirt. “Hey, Kook, got room for one more?” Jungkook’s chest heaves a low growl, pulling you body closer to his -as if that was even possible-. Then, his eyes stop on Jimin’s form. The man wore anger as cold as ice, and red as blood. If this were a cartoon, his ears would be blowing out steam. 

A smirk presses Jungkook’s lips. “What’s the matter, Jiminie? I’m just doing what you were afraid to.” Your head turns to the side, throat mewling out a whine towards him. 

Jimin. 

‘No. He hurt you too much. He drugged you.. Tricked you.. Teased you, just to leave you high and dry. He doesn’t deserve us.’

As if the little voice in your head turned your head, your eyes meet Jungkook’s. Full of lust and intensity. 

‘See? He’s the one that loves us. Jimin doesn’t want you. He just wants someone to fix… to him, you’re just a project. You’re broken. 

But… even after everything he’s done, you still-

“Y/n, please.” His arm is reaching out to yours. Eyes full of warmth, and kindness, almost as if it hadn’t been fixed, but.. nurturing. 

Jungkook shields your body away, using a blanket to cover up your indecency. “Don’t you fucking learn how to knock?” 

“Come on, Jungkook, just give us Y/n and we’ll be out of your hair.” Hoseok answers, slowly bending down to try and carefully pull you away. 

“I’ll even call Jiyeon for you if you want-” 

Jungkook spits out. “I don’t want that whore. She always smelled like that fucking birth control anyways. But this,” His finger drags along your cheek, as if like a knife’s edge. “So fragile, so full of life..” You flinch from his touch, trying to pull away from his body, but the grip he held over you had been three times as strong. 

Your voice is so weak. It’s like something has been draining you of energy by each passing second. “J-Jungkook..?” His eyes meet yours. The chocolate irises once so fluffy and doe-like had been replaced by something much darker. More dangerous. 

He smirks, tugging at your cheek to coo at you. “Yes, my love?” 

Gag. 

No- you were about to-

“Ohhh shit!” Taehyung exclaims, backing away from the puke pile that landed right to the side of you and Jungkook. Where Jimin stood. He cringes, scooting away from the pile but still manages to hold out his hand for you. 

Jungkook groans, pushing you from his lap in disgust. “Fucking bitch!” He yells, pulling up the hem of his boxer shorts before towering over your barely decent figure. His hand raises, as a wave of memories flood back. 

‘Little piece of shit!’ He calls out, as you fall backwards to the floor. His large body stood as tall as a mountain you’d read about in  one of your books. 

Your hands fall behind, propping yourself up as you try and scoot away from his shadowy and menacing figure. “I-I s-s-sor-” 

He lets out a deep chuckle. “Aw, is little doggy gunna say her sorry?” His hand reaches down, lifting you from the collar of your dress. Hand coming to muffle your screams. 

“It’s gonna take more than a sorry to fix it, you little fucker.” One of the other guards chuckle, as a swarm of large men cage your entire body. 

One of the men comments, as he reaches down to unzip his uniform’s pants, panic tearing your eyes. 

“Down, bitch.” 

“FUCK!” Jungkook curses, hunching over to cough up a small pile of blood. His nose, now oozed with a red liquid, as it drips to his hand. Someone pulls you to the side before scooping you into their arms. Soft whispers and coos breath against your ear, as his arms wrap around your figure to keep you from being exposed. Tears stream down your cheeks like Niagara Falls. You watched as Jungkook takes a few more hits, before throwing his own towards Namjoon. He’s quick to dodge, putting the younger man in his place. 

“Alright you little mut, let’s get you a cold shower.” Jungkook growls, head craning to you as he spits some blood to the cement floor. A smirk presses his lips. 

“You see this, pup? This is what we do.” He chuckles, before Taehyung and Namjoon both escort him firmly up the stairs. Soon, you’re just left with someone’s familiar embrace holding you tight. A soft lullaby sung in your ears, as he rocks your back and forth gently. Then, you let it loose. 

..

“I-I did w-what?” His voice had been laced with anxiety. The cold shower obviously helped Jungkook tremendously, and Nmajoon had been able to give him a larger dose than before to combat the hellion that came out of him. 

“Fucked up, bad.” Yoongi comments, scoffing at the younger male’s actions. Namjoon grumbles, shooing him out. Now it’s just him and Jungkook. Namjoon plops down next to the tub’s edge, letting out a sigh. 

“Well.. I mean you kinda did fuck up pretty badly.” Namjoon scratches the younger’s ears with worry. 

“I-I didn’t mean to- I didn’t want to hurt her- she came down to me, hyung!” Tears soaked his cheeks. Namjoon pulls the poor boy into a tight embrace, soothing his cries. 

“I know, Kook. You’d never do anything like that, we all know it.” Jungkook pulls away, sniffling. 

“B-But I did it, hyung.. I couldn’t control myself.. This has never happened before!” 

“I know, I know. It's because she’s new, and her breed is so close to yours. Jiyeon’s is what?” 

Jungkook sighs, pulling his knees to his chest, quietly answering. “She’s a minx hybrid.” Namjoon claps once. 

“See? There we go! Y/n’s papers said that she’s a Kilatski hybrid. So she'll be totally more attractive to you than Jiyeon.” Jungkook nods slowly, turning his head to the side to face the tub’s wall. 

“I guess.” 

..

Silence. Shame. Guilt. Embarrassment. 

Not long ago, these four things lived together in Y/n’s heart. 

Still do. 

“Come on, sweetie. You’ve gotta eat something.” 

You felt sick. Like you didn’t deserve to eat his food. You didn’t deserve these clothes, the shelter he provides, the love he’s giving. 

He holds out a bite of oatmeal to your lips, making a little theme song up as he goes. 

‘Come on Y/n. 

Please eat the oatmeal. 

I worked really hard. 

Don’t let it go to wa-’

“That doesn’t rhyme.” He chuckles, pushing the spoon to your lips. Your head lowers, not being able to even look him in the eye. 

You’re going back. 

He hates your guts, and he’s sending you back. He’ll take away all of the clothes, maybe even make you puke up the food you’ve eaten today. 

Actually, you haven’t. 

He flashes a bright smile, making a little strange sound. “Chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga-choo~” He sighs, setting the spoon down on the counter. Pushing the bowl away, he comes to pull you into his arms. He tucks your head underneath his chin, as your tears stain his shirt for the seventh time today. 

“It’s alright, baby. You’re okay, see? Nobody’s gonna hurt you. You’re safe.”

Safe. 

You’ve never been safe before. 

When you weren’t fearing for your life from the workers of the facility, you’d been busy being terrified of the other pups in your circle. Some had been quite mean. Pouring their leftover milk into the kid's hair, yanking down their skirts. (that’s why the facility made us switch to the dresses instead.)

But to be honest, they were all just scared too. 

His hand rubs soothing circles into your back, allowing you to sit up when needed. Your face flushes red at the love in his eyes. 

“W-why are you..” You could barely get the words out. “D-Do you still love me?” 

He pouts, pulling you closer to his chest. “Sweetheart, nothing could ever make me not love you.” 

You sit back up, wanting some answers. “Then wh-why didn’t you want to-” His hands gently take yours, tilting your head to catch his soft gaze. 

“I know what they did to you in that center, Y/n. I didn’t want to be the cause of you remembering any of it..” He straightens his back, letting go of a sigh. “But.. I know that I also should’ve helped you when you were in pain.. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for that, baby.” He thumbs a few tears away as you keep choking up from it all. 

“I-I’m s-sorry..” You croak out before letting your head fall into his lap. Tears now claiming his dark-wash jeans as well. His hands rub all around your back, like a mini massage. 

“I was the dick in this, Y/n.” You lean up, sniffling. 

“B-But you’re not a penis.” He chuckles, pressing his forehead to your own before lightly peppering a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“There’s my sweet girl.”

___________________________________________________________

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I SIMP FOR THIS AND I CREATED IT KANSLNALSDN LMFAO

[star-my]

Vixen ~ Three (Final)

➼ Pairing: Jimin x OC (Shin Ara)

➼ Length: 6k

➼ Rating: pg-15

➼ Content: Arranged Marriage AU, CEO AU, Mafia AU | TW: Vague Threats of Violence; Kidnapping; Non-Graphic Violence (Fight Scene); Minor Discussion of Human Trafficking (not by BTS/SKZ members)| Ara and JK are so sibling-coded; Jimin ships Vixen and JK

➼ Thanks to @moonleeai for betaing! I had this posted at noon and closed tumblr but when I came back now somehow it disappeared into the cloud?? I'm so annoyed ;-;

➼ Taglist: @bangtan-famiglia-net@kookthief@otome-wandering@sarcasticbambi

➼ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and in no way represents any member of BTS, SKZ, or any other K-pop group mentioned in any way beyond the face and name claims the author made for this work.

➼ Chapter 1 (13/10/23) ➼ Chapter 2 (14/10/23) ➼ Ao3 ➼ Masterlist

ARA, AGE 25, (PRESENT DAY)

A hand flopped around on the wooden table, finally locating the device making that infernal racket far too early in the morning.

“It’s too early for this,” Ara groaned, sliding the call button on her phone. “Yeoboseyo?”

“Princess? It’s Jimin. Sorry if I woke you…” Ara heard a sharp inhale as her husband realised the time. Still, he pressed on. “Um…you know how Park Wonshik adopted me after I was kidnapped?”

“Ye-ah,” she replied slowly, trying to figure out what was going on. Why was he sounding so awake after helping her break up the trafficking ring early this morning? He probably hadn’t slept yet, she realized. Hence, his too-early call.

“So, the police broke up this ring last night and saved a bunch of kids. They called me and asked if I’d mind talking to them, tell them that things are gonna be okay, y’know?”

Ara made some sort of agreeing noise, heading to the bathroom to gargle some mouthwash and maybe comb her hair and hope that putting her hair in order would simultaneously put her brain cells in order.

“So…one of my dad’s old friends was there and suggested maybe…we could foster one or two of the kids who are in need of a home until they get all the paperwork sorted out. A couple of the kids agreed to testify, so they’ll also need to stay close until the trials are over. What do you think? We have really good security, so they won’t need to worry about a repeat kidnapping, and I know we’ve got space and love. You mentioned wanting to help trafficking victims when I was telling you about my childhood…but…”

The longer her silence stretched out, the more Jimin rambled. He was so cute.

“Yeah, that sounds like a great, practical way to help,” Ara agreed after spitting her mouthwash out. “Just let me know how many you kids you drag back so I know how many rooms to get ready.”

“Thank you, jagiya.” Muffled conversation crackled through the line as Jimin paused to speak with an officer. “Sorry, I have to go. I’ll call later, alright?”

“Okay. Love you!”

“Love you!”

Ara put her phone down on the counter and stared at her reflection in the mirror. 

~~~

At 2:33 PM, Jimin arrived home with an eleven-year-old girl in tow. The police officer and Child & Family Services officer quickly checked the premises and living situation, then left, leaving Jimin, Ara, and the girl.

Ara smiled, crouching down to her height. “Hi, I’m Shin Ara. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hello, Mrs. Shin. My name is Kim Nabi,” Nabi bowed politely. “It is nice to meet you as well. Thank you for letting me live with you.”

Her shiny hair teased the tops of her shoulders as she moved. 

“I’ll show you to your room, then,” said Ara, motioning at the stairs. “I know you saw it already during the tour, but you can get settled now. My room is right across the hall, so my bodyguard will be close by if you feel unsafe. Have you met Jungkook yet?”

Nabi shook her head, then gave a small smile full of delight as she really took in her room.

Ara and Jimin’s gazes met as they exchanged smiles at her satisfaction.

The walls were a pale periwinkle reflected in the pale blue duvet, the trim white to contrast the wood furniture.

“I hope you like it,” joked Ara. “There are a couple of outfits in the closet, but I thought maybe you’d like to go shopping for some things your own style while you’re here. Jungkook and I will take you whenever you’re ready.”

Ara pulled the stuffed rabbit from the top shelf of the closet and held it out to Nabi. “I thought you might like a friend to talk to while you decide if you want to talk to me or someone else about what happened. I’ve told quite a few secrets to Cookie here, and he’s kept them all remarkably well. He also gives a pretty nice hug,” she smiled conspiratorially.

“Thank you very much, Mrs Shin, Mr Park,” Nabi bowed again.

“You’re welcome, Nabi. I know things have been tough, but you’re a very brave girl,” said Jimin. “We want you to feel safe and at home here. I remember how I felt after I was brought here by my adoptive father. If you want to scream, cry, maybe hit a couple of things, go for a run– whatever you’re feeling, we’re here for you.”

“Thank you,” Nabi said again.

Jimin kissed Ara’s cheek goodbye and left to finish his assistance at the police station.

Ara looked at Nabi, laid a soft hand on her shoulder, and said, “I think you’d like to be alone right now to settle in, but if you want company, my room is across the hall, and the door’s open. If you need anything, just walk in or give me a shout, ‘kay?”

Nabi nodded, and Ara crossed the hall to call Jungkook and explain the situation.

~~~

Ara softly knocked on Nabi’s door for the third time. When there was still no response, she twisted the knob and peered in.

Nabi was sound asleep in her bed, hugging Cookie tightly to her chest.

“Nabi, it’s ten to seven. Jimin-ssi will be home any minute, and supper will be ready. I’m sure you’re pretty hungry by now. Jungkook wants to meet you, too, so can you wake up and get up by seven?” As Ara talked soothingly, Nabi stirred and gradually opened her eyes. Ara opened the door a little wider to let the hallway light shine in, as Nabi had drawn her blackout drapes.

“Hello, Ara-unnie. I’m up now.” Nabi yawned and stretched, then slid off the bed.

“Did you have a good nap? I hope you’ll sleep tonight!” Ara stepped just outside the doorway so she wouldn’t stifle Nabi, who yawned again.

“Yes, I slept well, thank you.”

The two headed to the top of the stairs, where Jungkook awaited. 

“Nabi, this is my bodyguard and best friend, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook, this young lady is Kim Nabi.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Nabi,” Jungkook’s bunny smile shone through as he grinned at the girl.

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you as well, Jungkook-oppa.”

Jungkook grinned even wider at Ara. “I’m her oppa already!”

Ara punched his shoulder gently. “Don’t let it go to your head; I told her she could call us that.”

The foyer door opened, signalling Jimin’s return home. He headed to the powder room to wash up, then joined the little group in the living room, brushing a kiss to Ara’s cheek on his way in.

Jungkook pretended to gag, wincing as Ara pinched his arm.

Nabi was quiet during dinner, her gaze bouncing between the three adults talking and laughing around her but not volunteering much. They drew her in when they could, but weren’t surprised that she didn’t immediately become a chatterbox. She’d been through a lot and was probably still deciding how much she could trust them. 

Ara did manage to get her to commit to going clothes shopping the next day, but that was it.

A large yawn cracked Nabi’s face as Jimin asked Jungkook to see him in his office after supper, so Ara said goodnight to the men and followed Nabi upstairs, just in case she forgot where something was or needed help.

Two nights later, Jimin was back at Vixen’s HQ, meeting with the woman herself. He’d showed up unexpectedly, interrupting her spar with Hyunjin, so she wasn’t in full Vixen gear like all the previous times he’d met her.

She’d donned the mask, but her hair was free, a neat brown-black braid falling down her back, a few wisps curled to her sweaty face and neck. 

“If you tell anyone you’ve seen more of me than my lieutenants, I’m sorry, but I’ll have to break our agreement,” she waved a finger at him.

“I won’t,” promised Jimin. More of her meant arms and feet, since she was only in a black tank top and workout leggings, her jacket having been tossed aside as she heated up.

Jimin noted interestedly that the gold eyes and red mouth was an indispensable part of Vixen’s persona, as they were still visible.

(As two of her most notable character marks, Ara made sure the lipstick and contacts were first in and last out when she switched between Ara and Vixen. He’d just proved her point—though he didn’t know it—that you should always be prepared for the unexpected; you never know when someone would drop in, either ally or foe.)

“So, you took care of the three men?” she asked.

Jimin nodded. “JK and I made sure they won’t be trafficking in the future…or committing any other crimes.”

She nodded approvingly. “Good.”

The tones of Vixen’s cell phone rang and she bent over, fishing the phone out of her pocket. Answering it, she turned around but didn’t move away; Jimin eavesdropped as best he could. “Vixen.”

There was a pause as her contact spoke.

“What? Stall him! Flag him down and tell him I have a visitor! Engage blade if necessary.” With an aggravated sigh, Vixen ended the call and pinched her nose, muttering something about stupid training, then turned with a smile that was clearly false.

“I’m going to need a minute, would you mind waiting in another room?”

Jimin complied, following her to a small room that reminded him of a cabin. She pointed to the twin bed and shut the door behind her. Jimin didn’t feel like a captive since there was a window large enough for him to crawl through, and there didn’t appear to be any bars or lasers to stop him from doing so if he wished. But he didn’t wish to; he was here for a reason, afterall.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway as someone came jogging up to Vixen. The tread was heavy, likely male, and the visitor greeted her in a male’s voice.

“Hey Vix, I found out where he keeps the goods- why are you frown- ouch! VIX-mmph!”

That male voice sounded awfully familiar. Jimin frowned.

“Shh! I’m gagging you because he’s. next. door!” hissed Vixen harshly. “If you’d checked outside before you snuck in, you'd have seen his car!”

Jimin strained his ears as the whispers softened and moved down the hallway. However, he’d managed to drop a bug on Vixen’s back as he followed her, so he pulled out his receiver and shamelessly eavesdropped.

“I came over the roofs tonight so I didn’t see. I’m sorry, VIx, that was careless; I should’ve known better. I’ll check 360 degrees next time, yakseokhae.”

That was definitely JK.

“Good. Yeesh, oppa, you almost gave everything away! I had Han ready to rush you with his knife to slow you down!”

Oppa?! Why was Vixen so close to JK?

“Sorry, Vixen. But I found out where he keeps the goods, and I’m getting mine tomorrow, so I need to make sure the others won’t be visible when it’s done.”

…the blacklight tattoos each member got when they were inducted into Bangtan? He’d thought JK was a reliable asset to Bangtan, so he’d invited him to get it. JK was obviously Vixen’s spy in Bangtan, but why?…most of JK’s time was spent on his bodyguarding duties with Ara.

Unless…Vixen was going to take out Ara to hit Bangtan and Grey? But both of them were allied with her, that didn’t make sense. And he knew JK would never hurt or let anyone or anything hurt Ara.

Clearly, more investigation was required.

“When are you going to tell him, anyways, Vix? Hasn’t it been long enough for you to trust him?”

Vixen sighed. “It’s a big secret–half my life. It takes time to open up.”

“I understand. I’ll be there when you’re ready. I’ll leave now…”

Jimin heard JK discover the bug when he hugged Vixen goodbye. 

There was a pause, crackling as the bug was moved, then a dramatic inhale.

“Vix, what’s this?”

“That’s not one of ours…that’s Jimin’s. I thought I felt his fingers on my back, but I didn’t have time to check.” Vixen cursed, and then all that Jimin heard was static as JK crushed the bug under his boot.

The door swung open, JK standing protectively beside Vixen, who crossed her arms and stared at Jimin.

“Fine. You discovered it. Jungkook is my spy in Bangtan. He helped me start Stray Kids, and he’s an honorary member, since he’s technically affiliated with Gray. I’m not plotting anything against you. Happy?” “Why do you care about Bangtan’s tattoos?” Jimin stared back at her.

“Because Stray Kids have blacklight tattoos too, and I didn’t want to out JK’s and my relationship because you picked a spot close to his previous tattoo to add yours. It’s moot now, I guess.”

“Relationship?” He glanced between the two.

“We’re just friends,” they said in unison, then looked at each other. “What he/she said.”

Jimin sighed. Sure. Just friends. Whatever you say.

“Okay, prove it. Do you have a blacklight around?”

Hyunjin entered with the light and JK unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it off one shoulder. The Stray Kids symbol glowed blue at the joining of his neck and shoulder. Along his left arm were eight small bands of moon phases, as well.

Vixen held the blacklight to her shoulder, and the vivid blue symbol appeared on the front of her left shoulder, slightly larger and thicker than JK’s. “Happy?”

“Alright, I believe you.” Jimin took the light from her and waved it over his left collarbone, showing Bangtan’s symbol in glowing purple-blue. “You can choose where you put it, but somewhere that allows for easy access is a good choice for easy ID,” he told JK before turning to Vixen. “Bangtan’s tattoos are secret for a reason.”

She nodded companionably. “Same with Stray Kids, hence, blacklight. JK and I won’t say anything.”

JK nodded as Jimin looked at him. “ I won’t say a word, boss.”

“You’re affiliated with three families, JK. Which one are you most loyal to?”

JK swallowed, his big eyes a bit rounder than normal at Jimin’s subtly threatening tone. 

“Yeah, JK, tell me who you’re loyal to,” Vixen buffed her nails against her shirt as she leaned against the doorway, the very picture of nonchalance.

“...I am equally loyal to them. My primary loyalty is to your wife.”

After several tense seconds, Jimin smiled approvingly and patted his shoulder. “Good.”

Vixen nodded at him for his diplomatic answer, then left to continue her spar with Hyunjin.

Jimin and Jungkook rejoined, watching the spar just as VIxen put Hyunjin in an armlock. He tapped out and Jungkook danced into the ring. “Still mad at me for my slip up, Vix?”

“No, we’re good. Foxtrot spar?” She added one of her many code words with him, requesting the use of martial arts plus blades.

Jungkook nodded, and the spar began.

Jimin leaned forward, closely following the pair’s movements. Their sheer grace and long practice of martial arts gave them the facade of a deadly dance, clearly used to practicing together.

Silver flashes gleamed as their knives slashed and parried, tucked away the next second for strikes and kicks.

Finally, JK saw an opening as Vixen slowed from fatigue, her previous spar with Hyunjin lowering her endurance. Caught in a chokehold, Vixen tapped out.

Bowing, the pair ended the spar. Jimin clapped, impressed. “You both fight very well.”

“Thank you,” they said in unison, leaning down to grab a water bottle, opening it, and chugging at the same time.

Jimin rolled his eyes. Totally “just friends”.

Two weeks later, two days before the beginning of the trials, Ara took Nabi to the mall to take her mind off the upcoming event. Nabi now had a varied wardrobe, but Ara was looking for formal dresses for them for a future party..

Nabi had settled in surprisingly quickly, becoming more talkative and outgoing as the days passed, though she was still a quiet child.

She had only been on the street a week since her mom died when she was kidnapped. No one knew who or where her dad was.

Ara had contacted a counsellor for Nabi to see when she was ready to talk about it, and she and Jimin had agreed they’d love to foster with intent to adopt. When Nabi was ready, they’d talk about it. So far, she seemed to love the house, and she often followed Jungkook around like a duckling when he wasn’t with Ara.

Jungkook casually browsed through the men’s section of the formalwear store while he kept an eye on other customers. Ara took Nabi to the womens’ changerooms to try on a couple dresses each. Stepping into the room beside Nabi’s, she froze at the reflection of the man in the mirror with the gun painted at her.

“Follow me quietly and you and the kid won’t get hurt,” he growled.

Tentatively, Ara turned around, hoping Nabi would stay in her changeroom.

Alas, that was not to be, as Nabi stepped out. “Unnie, my zipp-” she stared at the man and Ara calmly, though her eyes were wide with shock. Slowly, she crept behind Ara, keeping an eye on the man.

“Come quietly and you’ll both be fine,” threatened the man. They headed out the back way to the van idling by the door. 

Getting in, Ara felt the dull throb of a needle prick as everything faded to black.

~~~

Jungkook headed to the fitting rooms anxiously. Twelve minutes had passed with no sign of either Nabi or Ara. Normally, Ara asked for his opinion on formal fits; while he supposed she may have decided to ask Jimin’s opinion instead, he was still a little worried.

As soon as he saw the silver and jade hairpin Ara had worn that day on the ground, the needle pointing to the back exit, he knew something was up. Pulling out his phone, he began making calls.

~~~

Slowly blinking her heavy lids, Ara tried to focus her thoughts and make sense of everything. As she gradually became more clear-headed, her memories returned.

Pretending to still be unconscious, she strained her senses to check her surroundings.

So far, she could tell that she was likely in a warehouse (how original) in the industrial area by the Han River, with the smell of water and the faint industrial noises surrounding her.

Nabi was in the chair behind her, back-to-back, either still out or merely pretending, like herself.

Ara couldn’t sense any hostile presence around–evidently, they were still supposed to be under the drug’s influence for a while longer.

Carefully, she pressed her watch button in and twisted it, sending an emergency GPS ping to both Chan and Jin.

Clearly, the kidnappers didn’t expect much of a chaebol heiress; since she was untouched, her eight knives, two GPSs, and five impromptu weapons were still on her. Well, at least they were respectful. This meant she was likely not going to be harmed, at least at first, and they didn’t know she was Vixen. 

She could work with that.

“Nabi-ah, are you awake?” If she was, Ara would have to wait for her prince(s) in shining armour (unless the kidnappers tried something before then), but if Nabi was still out, Ara could fight her way out and then claim a rescue…

She felt Nabi’s hands brush hers, then– “I know you’re Vixen. Can you get us out of here before oppa comes?”

 How- how did this child– Jimin still didn’t know!

“I’ll try.” She wiggled a knife free and passed it through their bonds to Nabi. “Go for blood if you’re in trouble. Now is not the time for guilt or gentleness. Use your teeth and elbows if you have to. Aim for fleshy parts like eyes, groin, or disabling their arms and hands.”

“Got it,” Nabi whispered back. “You’re so cool, unnie.”

Ara smiled inwardly, then began tugging the knot of the rope around her hands loose.

Once she had undone the ropes, she slyly slid one of her knives from her thigh free, using it to cut Nabi loose. “Sit tight unless you’re attacked, okay? On three, I’m going to get our captors’ attention. I already sent a distress signal, so Jimin and Jungkook will be here soon,” she added to reassure her foster daughter.

On three, she ripped the blindfold off and stood up, sliding the knives tucked into her heels out and kicking them off, choosing to fight barefoot.

A quick slash up the side seam of her skirt, and she was ready to fight.

The kidnappers had noticed that she was awake, and five men dressed in black ran into the room. 

Good, no guns, yet. The illegal weapons left traces very difficult to clean up and explain away.

Silently she charged the row of three, using the first’s momentum to tumble the second and third like dominoes.

While they were still reeling, Ara began slicing at the fourth and fifth, incapacitating them by aiming for their thighs and shoulders.

One, Two, and Three regained their balance, and Ara hurled one of her blades into Two’s shoulder as she danced around Three, hitting pressure points to take him out.

On her way to One, she yanked the knife out of Two’s shoulder, jabbing it at his waist and thigh.

One appeared to be better trained than the others as he aimed for a pressure point on Ara’s neck. Unluckily for him, she grabbed his wrist, forced him to his knees, and kicked him in the groin.

Spinning back to Two, she hit his neck to temporarily paralyse him, watching him slump before repeating the motion on One.

Sighing, she brushed her hair out of her face, wishing she hadn’t dropped her hairpin at the store as a clue for Jungkook. He’d have found her soon enough through the CCTVs, and she could see better without her hair flying around if she’d kept it.

A second batch of five emerged from the hallway she assumed led to the boss’s control room, but this time the group was armed and better prepared.

Ara supposed the first group were the disposable, bottom-tier underlings who underestimated her.

Dropping into a crouch, she grinned ferally. Worked every time.

Two and Three charged her at the same time, so she simply crouched there, then uncoiled at the last second. Using Two’s knee as a springboard, she wrapped her legs around Three’s neck, sending Two sprawling and choking Three out.

On her way to meet One, Four, and Five, she gifted Two a knife to the thigh, dangerously close to the femoral artery. Oops.

Just before she hit One and Four, she dropped to her knees and slid by, taking their legs out. Rather badass a move of her, if she thought so herself.

Five grabbed her by the hair–rude, but smart— thankfully, it was long enough she could twist to face him and swipe at his knees, then grab his wrist and twist him around.

He released her hair, and she swiftly knocked him out, then headed back to the still-conscious Two, Four, and One.

A quick insurance stab to their dominant arms, and all ten opponents were incapacitated, if not unconscious.

Ara spun to the door, dropping into a defensive stance and re-gripping her blades tightly, only to relax in relief when IN and Felix showed up. 

“Oh, good, you’re the first ones here. Nabi knows– I’ll figure out how later– but as of right now, Jimin doesn’t know, so you two took out those assailants, okay? I watched you rescue me when I woke up halfway through the fight,” Ara quickly aligned their cover stories.

Clearly, she should tell Jimin about her…nightly business ventures, but now would not be the time.

“Yes, ma’am,” Vixen’s bodyguards saluted, then began dragging the kidnappers into a row and tying them up.

Ara reclaimed her knife from Nabi and sat back in her chair, holding hands with the girl.

“Jimin-ssi should be here very soon and we can go home, okay? You were so brave; I’m proud of you. It’s okay now, so I understand if you’re a little scared or overwhelmed. Do you want to talk about it?”

Nabi shook her head. “I wasn’t scared; I knew you’d keep us safe, and Jimin-oppa and Jungkook-oppa would come for us.”

‘’How did you know I’m Vixen, Nabi-ah? And I gather you figured Jimin and Jungkook out too.”

Nabi grinned, turning in her chair to face Ara. “Jimin-oppa doesn’t wear a mask. I recognized him from the night when you all rescued us. That pink hair is kind of distinctive. I thought Jungkook-oppa worked for Vixen, but then I saw him with Jimin at the police station. I didn’t know till you woke me up for supper the first night; the way you talked to me and approached me was just like Vixen. And then I saw you with Jungkook-oppa and you were close to him like Vixen was.”

“Is that why you were watching us all so closely?” Ara had a revelation. “I just thought you didn’t trust us yet.”

Nabi nodded proudly. “I was trying to figure out who knew what about who.”

Ara smiled at Nabi and smoothed her hair down. “You are a very clever girl– you’re the first person to figure out that Shin Ara and Vixen are the same person. Everyone else who knows, I told. Have you figured out what everybody knows by now?”

“I think so…you and Jungkook-oppa know each other and Jimin-ssi, and he knows Jungkook-oppa but not you?”

Ara nodded, “Good job, Nabi-ah. Jimin’s family and mine are allies, and Jungkook works for both of them, Gray and Bangtan. He also works for my –Vixen’s– family, Stray Kids. Jimin-ssi and my appa both do not know about me being Vixen, but I think I should tell them now, don’t you?”

Nabi nodded. “Secrets should be kept few and far between.”

“Wise wor-”

Their talk was interrupted by a group of armed men bursting in, guns in hand.

Ara and Nabi blinked back at Jimin’s wide gaze. “You’re safe!”

He holstered his gun and anxiously looked them over. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, pulling Ara into a hug, then Nabi. “What happened?”

“We’re fine, Jimin. Nabi is probably a bit more anxious than she lets on, but we’re fine,” Ara ran her hand down his chest soothingly, feeling the rapid thumping of his heartbeat.

Jimin pulled back to examine Ara's face. “Why is there blood on you?”

“Oh, it's not mine, it’s…theirs…” Ara waved at the neat row of captives guarded by Felix and IN. “They took those guys out and rescued Nabi and me. Jungkook called them, saying we were in trouble.”

Ara had to have some last fun as Vixen, before she unmasked. Unable to resist, she asked in a loud whisper, “Why are there so many of you and why did you have a gun?!”

Jungkook coughed loudly to cover his laughter at Ara’s acting. Felix and IN exchanged grins, turning their backs to ‘guard the prisoners’.

The rest of Jimin’s squad of six looked awkwardly around, invested in the drama and wondering how their boss was going to get out of this jam.

Panic flashed through Jimin’s eyes. “Uh…why don’t we get you home and have a doctor look at you, jagiya. You must have been so scared, Nabi-ah. Let’s go home, hm? I think Mrs Lee was stress-baking up a storm.”

Jungkook slipped out to start the car and told Jimin quietly, but loud enough for Ara to get the message, “I called Dr. Hyunjin– he’ll understand. I have Lady’s men ready to help; I called her guys after you and Jin-hyung.”

“Thanks, JK.” Jimin escorted his girls to the car, leaving Jungkook to drive home while he fussed over them in the backseat.

Ara waited till Nabi showered and Hyunjin okayed her to do anything, much to her husband’s chagrin.

Nabi went straight to bed, and Hyunjin told Ara and Jimin that she was healthy, with no side effects from the drug used to knock them out, and was only stressed, though less so than he’d expected.

Ara was touched by Nabi’s faith in her and her guys. 

Hyunjin said good night and all the attention was on Ara. She willingly took a shower, conceding to that after adamantly refusing Hyunjin’s checkup.

Finally, so Jimin would stop worrying, she agreed to give him five minutes to reassure himself that she was indeed feeling 100%.

Ara perched on the counter in her ensuite, her towel wrapped around her neatly and another on her head to keep her hair from dripping in her face.

Cupping Jimin’s face in her hands, she looked him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, yeobo.”

“It’s not your fault, jagi,” Jimin protested immediately.

“Not the kidnapping, no, but the worrying, yes. There’s something I need to tell you. Please don’t freak out, okay?”

Jimin nodded warily, his eyes full of questions.

Ara grimaced, then said. “I know you’re Park Jimin, Head of the Bangtan mafia.”

His face jerked out of her hands. “What? No, I’m not– where did you–”

“Sh, I know, Jimin.” She cupped his face again. “I know Appa is Shin Jungok, head of the Gray mafia. I know my oppas work for you and him as mafiosos. I know your friends aren’t just your friends, they’re also mafia. I know my friend Minho is mafia. The reason I know all this is because…I’m mafia. I’m Lady Vixen.”

Jimin pulled his face away again to stare at her, his jaw slack and his eyes wide.

“I know I was never supposed to know who you all are, but I have since I was twelve. I started planning Vixen then; Kookie helped me. When I was seventeen and Kook was my full-time bodyguard and we could sneak around, I became Vixen.”

“I…don’t believe you.”

Ara hopped off the counter and exited the bathroom, heading for her closet. She changed into jeans and a blouse, then slid her shoes on. “Follow me if you dare.”

Jimin took her hand, confused and curious, as Ara led him to Jungkook’s bike in the garage.

They hopped on, Ara revved, and they sped off, Ara making evasive manoeuvres and pulling over randomly to ensure no one would follow them.

Ara casually strolled up to Vixen’s HQ, D9, and entered her fingerprint, eight-digit code, and eye scan after a moment’s pause.

She headed straight to the back, to Vixen’s room, waving briskly at the sparring members of her mafia gathered in the main room, and pressed on a panel in the wall.

The panel popped out and Ara reached in, removed a small package, and slipped her contacts and fangs in. A small tube of lipstick sat on a shelf, and Ara carefully applied a coat. The mask went on, the jacket was zipped up, and her boots laced up.

Dumbfounded, Jimin watched as his wife did a slow twirl in front of him, a smug smirk on her face. The entire transformation took five minutes.

“You’re really Vixen.”

“Yup.”

Hyunjin popped in with the blacklight again and Ara confirmed her SKZ tattoo on her shoulder. “Thanks, Jinnie. Can you ask the others to come see me in a minute, please?”

In the minute they were left alone, Ara sat behind her desk and kicked out a chair for Jimin to sink into. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner–for worrying you without reason. I was actually the one who knocked out the guys; Innie and Lix got there after. That’s why I was bloody.”

Hyunjin reentered with IN and Felix, handing Jimin a bundle.

He unwrapped it to discover six knives and two stilettos, which caused him to turn to Ara in confusion.

She smirked. “I never go out unarmed. I also have a GPS in each watch and a few of my larger jewellery pieces. I could also have utilized the belt on my skirt and my necklace as weapons, if I so wish. Unfortunately, I had to leave my hairpin behind, but I often wear my hair up in pins because they double as an excellent weapon in a pinch…especially if they’re modified. All this is to say, I’m sorry for worrying you earlier, and I can take care of myself, so please don’t worry if something like this happens again.”

Jimin stared at her, taking in this whole other side of his wife he’d overlooked before. “Wow, you really are a vixen.”

She tossed him a wink, a proper one, as Seungmin, Minho, Chan, Changbin, and Jisung entered. 

“Sup, Vix? Oh…”

“Yep, I told him. Thought he might like to know some of my most trusted men, so he can reassure himself about everything.”

Once her men gave a succinct explanation of their path to Stray Kids and left, the couple were left alone, silence blanketing Vixen’s office.

Jimin leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. “You’re really something, jagiya.”

The faint sound of people sparring elsewhere in the building filtered through the air while he collected his thoughts.

“I want to be angry that you hid all this from me, but I can’t really without being a hypocrite. Thank you for telling me now.”

Ara sighed in relief. “Thank you for accepting this part of me. Shall we agree to keep no more secrets?”

The two shook hands solemnly. “No more secrets.”

“Oh, by the way…Nabi figured you out the first night she stayed with us because you don’t wear a mask, and also because of your pink hair. She found me out because Vixen and Ara approached her the same way.”

Jimin sputtered and Ara giggled.

“We have a future menace to society and the underworld on our hands.”

Park Jimin and Shin Ara exited the courthouse, their bodyguards shielding them and their new daughter from the paparazzi.

Once the trial was over and the traffickers harshly sentenced, Nabi relaxed more and was able to enjoy life.

She’d readily agreed to Jimin and Ara’s proposal and was delighted to become a Park.

Secretly, she was dying to know which Family she’d join when she grew up, but wisely didn’t say anything about it.

Now, the papers were signed, sealed, and filed, and Kim Nabi was officially Park Nabi.

In honour of the occasion, Bangtan and Stray Kids had collaborated again to open Black Swan, a restaurant that would be Nabi’s future, if she so desired.

Bangtan and Gray had also collaborated to open Blue and Grey, the last bar in the Blue string owned by Jungok.

He’d been thoroughly shocked to find out his little girl had known for a long time about his secondary business, and how she had twisted his most trusted men around her little pinky (Jin and Namjoon had been glared at for weeks after Ara spilled the beans), but he was proud of her ambition and success, even though he wished she had stayed on the legal side of things.

~~~

Jimin crawled into bed beside Ara and flipped off the light, turning to pull her to him.

“How is everything going? You’ve been pretty busy lately,” she murmured, cuddling into his body heat.

“It’s calming down now, thankfully. The worst part is seeing you less.”

“Flatterer,” she said, but Jimin heard the smile in her voice. “I miss you too, when you’re busy like this.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, enjoying her angelic appearance as the moonlight fell across her face. They lay there, cuddling in silence for a while, until a thought struck Jimin. He’d been getting used to talking to Ara about his mafia issues, knowing that she’d understand him better now.

“Yoongi is looking for a wife.”

“Oh?” Sheets rustled as Ara pulled away a bit, turning to look at him.

“Yeah, for some reason he wants a wife who’s not in a gang. You know anyone?”

Ara made a noise of surprise. “Really? Hm…I might! You know how I’m allying with that gang, Seventeen, temporarily? I might find a way. I’ll look into it.”

TO BE CONTINUED…in Godmother: Tigress

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading my story! I hope you have a beautiful life<3

Some fun notes about the universe, if you're interested:

-> 22924514 = Vixen in Alpha-numeric code. It's Vixen's code for D9. D9 is a STAY easter egg.

-> Jimin and Jungkook were both part of the same trafficking/rescue situation. They weren’t together, though, and their memories are fuzzy and black out from that time. Eventually, they realise they have a connection and bond over it.

[daechwitatamicrecs]

oh i was so hopeful and i should have been way more prepared for you to DASH MY HOPES ONTO THE ROCKY SHORE you VILLAIN.

you two!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TALK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Need to Know (Jimin x OC)

Summary: Red dress, red lips, stolen glances. That's all it takes for Jimin's resolve to break, and for you to propose an arrangement.

Pairing: Jimin x OC

Genre: Exes; smut, angst, mutual pining territory

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4.3 K

Warnings: language, alcohol, dirty thoughts, mind games, fingering, handjob, sex against a wall, drunken phone calls and misunderstandings

A/N: A short drabble about our favourite exes who can't stay away from each other. Set around three months after Familiar Faces. Mostly pwp - minor plot for the series, but can be read standalone.

Tagging: @parkizabelle @cherrysoulth @bbl32 @confessionsofamarshlily @dreaming-with-happiness @ggukkieland @kflixnet @k-radio

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop me a comment/ask :)

Listen to: "need to know" by doja cat

jimin masterlist | main masterlist

“You really know how to drive me crazy, you know that?”

He doesn’t sound like he’s praising her for it. He sounds frustrated, like she’s a puzzle he’s been trying to solve for years, the solution constantly out of his reach.

But his hand, flat on the wall next to her head, the tips of his fingers pressing into the wallpaper as though he’s just holding himself back, his clenched jaw as his gaze stays fixated on her mouth, only flickering up to meet her own eyes… they tell a different story.

Sooah tries again. “Jimin…”

He swallows and bites his lip. The sight of it is enough to make her fall silent, enough to make her aware of how close his body is to hers. The music is low and thumping, the walls practically vibrating with the bass. She can’t help but remember the last time they were at a party like this, meeting once again for the first time in two years. The attraction then had been immediate, almost like they were picking up where they’d left off… until a complication had surfaced.

The moment Jimin had caught wind of the fact that she was there with a date that night, he’d stormed off. His response had been to sulk, lash out and try to one-up her, until she’d revealed in a huff that her date wasn’t really a date, not the way he thought it was. A couple of weeks later, he’d wanted to “hang out”, and they’d fucked in his apartment after ten minutes of small talk - all because her date wasn’t really a date.

Well, tonight, her date is definitely a date. And Jimin knows it.

“Why aren’t you with him right now?” he asks, almost as if he knows what she’s thinking.

Sooah swallows. She’s at eye level with his jaw; with the way he’s standing before her, almost towering over her and backing her into the wall, she’s close enough to touch her lips to his neck. The black button-down he’s wearing is unbuttoned to the third button, a deliberate show of smooth, taut skin. His cologne smells of satin and sex.

“I’m with you,” she breathes, forcing herself to look him in the eye.

Jimin’s hair falls into his eyes as he exhales raggedly, his teeth gritted with what he can only identify through the haze of alcohol as irritation, unpreparedness, jealousy and restraint. Irritation, because he wasn’t supposed to be at this party at all, but a few choice words of emotional manipulation by a some friend had brought him here, a quick stop before a fancier work event.

Unpreparedness, because he didn’t know Sooah would be here but he supposes he should have, for it isn’t a party without Kim Sooah. It hasn’t been, ever, not since high school. Jealousy, surely because, once again, she is here with a date. A genuine date this time, reminding Jimin that it’s been over a month since he last saw her, and that’s on no one but him.

Restraint… The hand on the wall clenches into a fist. How is he supposed to hold onto it, the restraint, when it’s her, when it’s Kim Sooah, looking like that, and gazing up at him like this? Her red lips part, and Jimin takes a step closer automatically, their fronts now brushing.

She wants it, too, surely. That look can’t mean anything else, can it? The fact that she’s here, with him, in a secluded corner of the farmhouse while the rest of the party carries on elsewhere, her floral scent mixed with the faint smoke making his head blur… it has to mean something.

Sooah reaches out to touch the bottom of his jacket, and Jimin feels himself stir in his jeans. She’s here… he can reach out, wrap his free arm around her waist and kiss her, kiss her so deeply that she’d sink right into him, her body molding into his like it always has…

I’m with you. 

The most annoying reminder of the night rears its ugly head, the reason he’s been so taken off guard, the reason they’ve been snarking at each other all night before converging here, alone.

“You shouldn’t be.” With all the self-control that got him through debut, Park Jimin pushes off against the wall and puts some much needed distance between them. “Go back to your boyfriend, Sooah.”

His heart can’t take much more; ignoring the look in her eyes, the one he’s too afraid to decipher, he turns around and leaves the party, just as the rest of the crowd rings in the new year.

That was three weeks ago.

Her disappointment in his lack of action, at his hesitancy to just admit what he wanted had stayed the rest of the night, seeping into every conversation she had and leading her to even avoid Donghyun for the rest of the night. She wasn’t being fair to him, she knew that… somewhere, in the back of her mind.

But at the time, she’d been more preoccupied with how Jimin had just left, how after an entire hour of heavy eye contact and jealousy that any sentient being could pick up on from miles away, he’d once again shown her that, sure, he wanted her - he just didn’t want her that bad.

It had lasted till around three am; she remembers, because she’d been sobering up far too quickly for her liking and was on the phone with her friend’s boyfriend, informing him that Eunji was being safely driven home along with three others by Hyeri, the consummate teetotaller and designated driver of their extended group. The phone had blinked brightly at five minutes past three, when her own phone had buzzed in the pocket of her jeans.

Seeing Jimin’s name flash on the screen gave her only a moment’s pause, half-hoping that they could fight it out on the phone if they needed to. She’d answered, guns ready and blazing, only to hear Jimin, drunk out of his mind, talking incoherently on the other end.

She’d had every intention of telling him to sleep it off and hanging up, but something about how ironically sincere he was suddenly being, and how badly she wanted him to just talk instead of playing their usual games had made her hesitate, and she’d leaned tiredly against a pillar as he continued.

He hadn’t made too much sense overall, but one thing he’d said had sent a pang through her heart. Stop bringing dates, he’d demanded, half-whining and half-shouting. She’d winced at the volume but the fact that he’d stopped beating around the bush and finally said something substantial about how he felt… the disappointment in her had turned almost into guilt by now, and she’d found herself wishing that it didn’t take two parties and what seemed like a gallon of liquor for him to be honest with her.

Naturally, neither of them have mentioned that call since. It’s been three weeks and unfortunately, this time, the ball is in Sooah’s court. She knows for a fact that he won’t reach out to her; even if he doesn’t remember the call, she’d been the one with a date and Jimin’s wounded pride is not something that should be taken lightly. If he does remember the call… well, then he’s definitely not reaching out to her first, no matter what.

Sooah doesn’t mind, not really. Even through the drunkenness, there had been a glimpse of the old Park Jimin - or the young Park Jimin, seventeen years old, rosy cheeked and shyly confessing after months of subtle coaxing that he did, indeed, have a crush on her. Now, despite everything, she takes the plunge and invites him to an event.

“What kind of event?” he asks suspiciously.

Sooah rolls her eyes, knowing he’s just stalling. He’s trying to sound nonchalant, too, but she plays along. “Just a work thing,” she says serenely, wrapping her scarf tighter around her neck in the cold wind. She takes a sip of the Americano in her hand, hoping for some hot, liquid courage. “It’s a party our client is hosting for an Australian label. The client is bringing along plenty of guests - lots from the music industry,” she adds, hoping that will sway him. “You’ll have lots of people to talk to.”

“Your client is okay with you inviting whoever you want?”

She takes a deep breath, knowing this is the important part. “I’m part of the event management. I’m allowed to bring a guest. Especially if that guest is you,” she adds, a little teasingly.

“Why me?”

He’s making her work for it. It’s exasperating and arousing in equal measure. “Why not?” She pauses. “Maybe I’ve missed you. We didn’t really get to… talk, during the New Year’s Eve party.”

“No, we didn’t.” Finally, after a few moments, he exhales. “I need to check with my manager. I’ll let you know.”

“Alright. See you around, Chim.”

Sooah’s not wholly startled at his response, and neither is she surprised when he responds later that night with Okay. When she responds with an emoji, he simply replies asking her to text him the address. It’s curt and short, but it’s also Jimin. Be it three weeks or three years, Sooah knows how to handle him.

On the day of the event, Sooah doesn’t text him except once in the morning when she tells him to wear something dark. Jimin arrives at the hotel, taking in the classy decor in the ballroom and making note of all the guests in their finery, unable to see anything that really sticks out to him. 

He pretends not to notice her, at first, choosing instead to accept a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. It’s no matter that he’s seen her, checked her out and already admired her as she bustles around, her heels clacking along the floor as she speaks to technicians, waiters and other people from her event management company. She’s wearing red again; the thin blouse curves teasingly over her breasts, professional yet so sexy, and the black pencil skirt hugs her hips and backside so perfectly that he feels like he could scream.

When they finally lock eyes across the room, he anticipates it a fraction of a second before it happens. She smiles, and he’s blinded. His heart is still stuttering as she makes her way over to him, a Blackberry in one hand, her hair soft in waves down her shoulders. His eyes flicker around the room, wondering if everyone else is noticing her, too, walking across the ballroom, resplendent in red.

Her eyes are on him only, though. “Glad you could make it,” she says, sounding genuine. 

“Of course. How could I not?” He makes a show of looking her up and down. “You look good.”

“So do you.”

Jimin knows - or he knew - but it makes his chest swell, irrespective. “You don’t have a drink?”

“I’m working,” she points out. “Technically.” She gives him a small smile, as though sharing a secret. He bites his lip and innocently offers her his own champagne glass, watching in mild amusement as she accepts it and downs it, not breaking eye contact for even a moment.

“This isn’t your usual kind of party,” he comments, looking around with his hands in his pockets. “Too…”

“Classy?” She laughs, nodding. “You’re right. There’s no keg and hooking up in a powder room just feels… cheap.”

“As opposed to the bathroom at Hard Rock Cafe?”

Sooah chuckles again, and he notices her gaze flicker to his mouth. “For a first time tryst, some five years ago,” she says softly, leaning up slightly, “it was pretty epic.”

Jimin can hardly disagree, but he says nothing, hoping the suppressed smile will speak for itself. She leaves after that, citing some issue with the guest list. He watches her walk away and immediately looks for another drink, knowing he should start socialising soon or this night is sure to become all about Kim Sooah again.

He tries, in earnest; he’s been getting better at working a room, and as Sooah had predicted, his presence does cause somewhat of a stir at the event. If anything, he’s in his element tonight: dressed head to toe in designer wear, having a good hair day, meeting other young artists and producers, all of whom seem to know him.

An hour in, he’s feeling far more confident than he has any right to. Aside from one aspiring producer who only referred to herself as Chanel, he’s almost completely sure that every other female artist his age he’s met so far has flirted with him, even if it is just for fun. Part of his attention is on Sooah, naturally, for he is her date, but she’s working, looking pretty and capable and everything he just knew Kim Sooah was always was.

Still, the fact that they’re here, together, isn’t lost on either of them. Every time he catches her looking at him, gaze fixated on his lower half, he’s thankful all over again that he decided to wear leather pants tonight. They brush past each other, find a few minutes between work and guests where they share a drink and exchange a few flirty words, find each other’s eyes from across the room until Jimin is certain, finally, that Sooah extending this invite wasn’t just out of the goodness of her heart.

His theory is proven right when, less than thirty minutes later, they’re in one of the spare hotel rooms booked by the company for storage, undressing each other with a chaotic desperation. They don’t even really make it inside the room; the hallway right next to the closed door is enough, the only light emanating from underneath the bathroom door.

“They’ll wonder where I am,” murmurs Sooah breathlessly, as she pulls the jacket off his shoulders with force, simultaneously trying to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“They’ll survive without you,” he mutters, pushing her back against the wall and swallowing her gasp with a kiss. He tugs her tight skirt up her thighs, running his fingers along her smooth skin and grabbing the flesh until they break apart for breath. “I won’t.”

Sooah nods, her eyes fluttering shut as he kisses her neck, lips moving open-mouthed against her skin while his hands feel for her underwear, slipping his hand under the hem on her arse and groaning when he squeezes it. Her fingers fumble with the buttons on his shirt, feeling his toned torso with such familiarity, such authority, that Jimin feels his erection strain painfully against his trousers.

He kisses her again, hard and deep, pulling her hips to his and pressing his fingers at her wetness through her underwear. She moans helplessly against his mouth, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer when he gives up and moves the underwear aside, feeling her soaked pussy. His other hand comes up to her chest, squeezing her breast through the thin, red blouse he’s been admiring all night.

Sooah reaches behind her with one hand and struggles with something; Jimin immediately searches for her hand, his fingers finding a zipper that he tugs on harshly, feeling the blouse loosen around her shoulders and bringing her full, fleshy breasts into view. 

“Oh, fuck, Jimin, right there,” she murmurs against his mouth, pulling the sleeves of her blouse down her arms as he rubs her clit, the other hand squeezing her breast between them, her nipple hard against his fingers. “You know what, just - just take it off,” she says, barely pulling away before she begins undoing the buttons of his pants. “I want you now.”

Jimin obliges, tugging her underwear down her legs as she squeezes his arse over his pants once before pulling the zipper down and palming his full erection through his briefs. He kisses her again, running his fingers over her uncovered pussy and feeling a desperate sort of urge to enter her right then. His lips move to her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, her hair getting messier and his shirt getting crumpled with each second.

“Chim,” she whispers, “the condom’s in your pocket.” Her hands feel for his back pocket, the slight indent of the square packet against his toned backside. 

“Yeah,” he grunts, taking the hint and bringing it out, just as she snatches it from his hand. Kneeling before him, she lowers his pants and underwear, revealing his hard, pink cock, already wet at the tip. 

“Fuck, Jimin,” she murmurs, wrapping her fingers around him and momentarily stroking him, looking up at him as she licks her lips. Jimin’s gasps, falling forward and bringing his hand up against the wall. Her touch feels like silk and as she gently peels the condom over his cock, he feels himself just wanting to be inside her.

The moment she stands up, he wraps his arm around her waist and hitches her up, his heart leaping at her gasp. Her hands automatically clutch his shoulders, his shirt half-unbuttoned and falling open on one side. With her skirt bunched up around her hips, he feels for her pussy, wet and ready just for him and aligns himself at her entrance.

“Sure you can keep me up, Chim?” Kim Sooah asks softly, running a hand almost tenderly through his hair when he looks up at her.

Fuck, yes. “As long as you want,” he answers, kissing her once more before entering her, groaning as he feels her warm, wet walls squeeze him.

“Oh, you feel so good, baby…” Sooah’s voice, soft and breathy, spurs him on. He pushes into her, hoping he isn’t hurting before he increases his speed, hearing her moans sync with his thrusts as he fucks her into the wall. Every thrust is one step closer to making her cum, her eyes closed and her mouth open as she holds him close, her breasts threatening to spill out of her bra, and Jimin reaching his limit.

They finish at almost the same time, their whines and whimpers echoing in the fancy hotel room they never even made it more than a few steps into. Gasping for air, their hearts racing, they kiss messily before Sooah hops down and winces when he pulls out. 

Jimin leaves first; his crumpled shirt is mostly covered by his jacket, and his hair doesn’t take more than his fingers running through them a couple of times to look like perfection again, falling dark blond onto his forehead. Sooah smiles awkwardly as he kisses her on the cheek before leaving, her legs still somewhat shaky as she straightens her clothes. Her skirt definitely looks crushed, but being black, she hopes no one will notice much. Her top is okay, but her hair looks like a bird’s nest, disheveled to the point where anyone who sees her will be sure to suspect what she’s been up to.

Sooah re-enters the ballroom a few minutes later, nervously fingering the end of her high ponytail, her eventual solution to the messy hair. The event is fortunately in full swing now, which means she has to get back to work and can’t spare too much thought to what just transpired. She looks around briefly for Jimin, though; after a few minutes, she spots him with a group of three other people, all of them looking just as shiny and fancy as him, chatting and laughing over glasses of champagne.

Her heart skips a beat at his sparkling smile, gorgeous and open. He’s always been great with people, so it doesn’t surprise her when she sees him similarly all night, talking to various people, casually graceful. It’s good; it’s part of why she invited him, but it doesn’t explain the small, hollow feeling in her chest that flickers uncomfortably when  she discusses cab availability with the hotel manager and Jimin mingles with rich, beautiful, famous guests at the party.

“Are you okay?”

Sooah nods belatedly, falling into step beside him as they walk into her building. The moment they’re inside, away from the cold, she breathes a silent sigh of relief and sees Jimin do the same, his shoulders relaxing. The walk in relative silence up the stairs to her apartment, stopping in front of her door.

Jimin leans sideways against the wall, smiling down at her. His hands are in his pocket, and she can spot the slight influence of alcohol swimming in his eyes. “It was a really nice event,” he says. “Very classy.”

“Thanks,” she says genuinely, a small smile playing at her lips that fades quickly. She looks down at her feet, wondering all of a sudden why she feels so tired, why her chest feels so heavy.

“You should plan the next farmhouse party, too,” he suggests, his tone teasing. “I could do with some champagne over the cheap vodka.”

Despite everything, Sooah returns his playful smile. “I’ve never seen you reject the cheap vodka before.”

“I can make do with the vodka. I just prefer the champagne.”

The harmless statement, said so casually and with such ease, makes her heart lurch. She hates everything about the event, even though Jimin just complimented it, even though her own boss texted her on her way back home, congratulating her on its success. Everything about it, its class, its finery, its shiny, golden aura - all of it makes her want to throw up.

She looks up at him, about to respond, when she sees it again. Without thinking, she reaches forward to move the collar of shirt away from his neck, the red spot now a purple hickey, raw and unmistakable. Jimin turns to look at it before facing her again, smirking silently.

It’s not like her to not make a joke about it, possibly a flirty one, one he’d return with just the right amount of teasing and sincerity. But all she can think about is the first time she spotted the hickey an hour ago, when she was standing by the bar and he’d been talking to a female guest by the french doors. 

It had been just a red spot then, barely visible from the distance but she could recognise her own handiwork, even from here. His tinkling laugh could be heard all the way at the bar while his companion, her back to Sooah, stood long-legged and elegant, a glass of champagne in her hand. Her gold minidress had suddenly made Sooah feel thoroughly inadequate in her red blouse and black skirt. Like cheap vodka.

“Are you okay?”

It’s the second time he’s asked, and this time he looks a bit concerned. Sooah nods. “Just tired.”

“You should get some sleep.”

She nods again, slower this time. The sight of the hickey sends a defiant kind of pride in her, one she knows she shouldn’t be feeling. She’d felt it earlier tonight, too, when she’d watched him blend into the crowd like it was nothing. He belonged tonight, a celebrity among celebrities.

We aren’t in the same circles anymore.

The words send an old, long-buried pang through her, and she speaks without thinking.

“Do you want to do this?”

It’s only after she says it that she realises Jimin was about to say something. He raises his eyebrows.

“Do what?”

Sooah takes a deep breath, knowing somewhere in the jumble of her mind that this is the way to go, the path of least consequences. “Do you want to… do what we’ve been doing the last couple of months? But without the awkwardness?” she adds, forcing herself to roll her eyes.

Jimin pauses. “Tiptoeing around each other?” he asks lightly.

“Hooking up. Having sex.” She’s being blunt, she knows, but this isn’t the time to be coy. She needs to cement this before she changes her mind.

“Oh.” He looks slightly taken off guard, but recovers quickly. “So… like, we call each other when we want to… have sex?” He doesn’t look too convinced.

“Yeah. Or we text.” She shrugs. “We do what we’ve been doing, basically. This is just so we’re clear, about - about everything.”

Jimin nods slowly, the understanding visible on his face. “What are we clear about?”

“That it’s just sex,” she says, swallowing. “That we call - or text - when we feel like it, and if we’re free… we get together.”

“Just for sex,” he clarifies. “No drinks, even.”

“With discretion,” she allows. “No dinner.”

“No lunch.”

“No cute flirting.”

“Only sexy flirting.”

Sooah bites her lip, wondering how on earth he can still make her heart skip a beat. “That’s right. No staying over.”

“No cuddling.” Jimin nods, clapping his hands. “It’s set.”

There’s something different in his expression; Sooah can’t put her finger on it. She can’t tell if it’s relief or something else. It probably is relief; he’s got a steady source of action whenever he’s not on tour, and she’s at least one step towards not getting her heart broken again. It’s a win-win.

“Thanks for walking me home,” she says softly. “You didn’t have to.”

Jimin’s eyes flicker. “My dad taught me to always walk a lady to her door.”

This time, Sooah does smile, for it’s her favourite memory of their first date. Resisting the urge to step closer to him or to take his hand - to do something - she places her hand on the doorknob, her keys ready in her other hand. “Goodnight, Park Jimin.”

“Goodnight, Kim Sooah.” He makes a motion and hesitates before leaning over and pressing a light kiss to her cheek, almost defiantly. “Sleep well.”

Sooah nods silently, turning around to watch him walk away. Despite herself, her gaze falls momentarily to his hips, snug in the leather pants, before she shakes her head, wondering if she’s done the right thing.

~

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