Tumgik
#jimin imagines
peachypinkygloss · 1 year
Text
wicked obsession — pjm
Tumblr media
You don't like Jimin; you two are nothing alike. He's the campus' infamous fuck boy while you're studious, never stepping foot into parties. It's certainly not a good thing when he grows an obsession over you.
★ pairing: fuck boy!jimin x sub/fem!reader
☆ genre: university au, friends with benefits, smut
★ word count: 8.2k
☆ warnings: dub-con, non-con to a certain extent, take of pictures and videos without consent, threats toward the reader, hard dom jimin <3 (he's pretty soft in this one but still), he's evil and hot, reader's kind of a pervert too if we think about it long enough, pillow humping (f), masturbation (m), unprotected sex, no penetration because it's not a necessity 😌👍🏻, praising & brief degradation, dry humping, grinding, facial, cum eating, cunnilingus & fingering, squirting, jimin's a munch.
a.n.: this is a gift for myself since i crave jimin really, really badly. again, be mature and read the warnings! it's your job to avoid the content you don't like, not mine! 😉
playing: Filme moi
Please reblog! It helps me a lot and my fic get more visibility :)
Tumblr media
He's looking at you like a predator, narrowing his eyes and passing his index finger over his plump bottom lip. The only thing you can do is pretend to not see him staring intently at you and work harder on your assignment. If only you could do those things without anxiously glaring up at him and immediately breaking eye contact when he's already looking at you.
He doesn't even engage in the conversation with your group of friends and for some reason nobody has noticed how Jimin is ogling at you.
Why is he suddenly interested in you? Why!?
He knows how much you disapprove of his lifestyle. He doesn't care about his studies, he submits assignments days after the due date because why should he bother about the date when he'll get an A anyway. He puts no effort while you spend days on your homework and it angers you a lot.
Jimin is infamously known for his never ending libido, fucking everything that has two legs, two arms and a pussy. Infamously known to be a fuck boy simply because he breaks every women's heart without a care in the world. He may flash a smile while telling them they were a good hook up and that's it.
And that's why you're in big trouble because Park Jimin can't be obsessed with you.
As you finish typing your sentence on your keyboard, pressing on enter to change paragraphs, you look up. Mainly because you want to distract yourself a little bit from your work, but also because you can still feel his eyes boring into your skull.
Then, you see his black orbs looking straight in front of him where you're sitting while he's leaning against the chair's back, spreading his legs apart. You're surprisingly brave enough to hold eye contact this time, shivers running down your spine when he darts his tongue out to wet his lips.
What did you do for him to stare at you like you're a piece of meat?
It's like he's trying to send you a message, one that would offend you, make you raise your eyebrows in total astonishment and probably stop your heart from beating. Even though you can't decipher his message, you can understand it. Something nasty, so filthy that the devil himself wouldn't approve of.
He tilts his head downward and looks at you through hooded eyes. You have to swallow to not choke on your spit as his gaze destabilizes you so much you can't even process what's happening around you.
Jimin seems to like that, enjoying how weak you are, how you crumble apart just from holding eye contact with him. He smirks, following each one of your movements with his devious eyes.
You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to focus on your computer's screen, but you can't. He's distracting you and it really annoys you. Why can't he mind his own business?
"Class at ten, gonna go to my locker," one of your friends announces, Taehyung, while getting up from his seat.
Priya, also one of your friends, copies Taehyung's actions, standing up on her feet as well. "Oh, yes! I forgot my lip balm in my locker, I'm coming with you," she smiles at him, putting the straps of her tote bag over her right shoulder.
It's how the table you were hanging at slowly empties, and you let out the breath you were holding when Jimin decides to follow Seokjin and Jungkook to the cafeteria to buy some snacks before class. You're left alone at your request, telling Priya and the other girls that you're going to work extra minutes on your essay before joining them.
You wrote four pages already, only ten more and you'll be done. It's a lot and you're totally discouraged, but that's how university is. You quickly check the time on your phone and start packing your things in your backpack to attend your afternoon class that you share with some of your friends.
You take a seat in the middle beside Priya and you don't miss the glance Jimin sends you when he passes by, going to the back of the class with Jungkook. You're relieved he doesn't sit with you, even though it would have been unusual of him, but his sudden interest in you is unusual so you don't know what to expect anymore.
The professor explains the next project, which is a work that you'll have to do in a team of two people. The instructions are pretty simple, something you can do in less than two weeks. You expect to team up with Priya, after all you're the only girls of your group in this class and you two are close friends.
When the teacher is done with the instructions, he lets everyone form their teams. You do the work with Priya, but that is until Jimin makes his appearance.
"Hey, Pri'. You don't mind working with Kookie, right?" He asks your friend and she looks at him curiously, her eyebrows raising up on her face. You, on the other hand, are very confused, opening your mouth to protest until Priya responds with a joyful smile.
"Oh! No, not at all! You two are doing it together? How nice," she giggles, turning her head to look at you. She takes her books in her arms and walks to Jungkook without thinking twice about it.
Jimin steps aside to let her go, watching her sitting beside Jungkook with an undying smile plastered on her face. Your heart starts beating extremely fast as he takes place next to you, acting as if he just didn't decide to work with you without your consent.
"What are you doing! I never said I'd team up with you!" You whisper-shout at him, not wanting anyone to hear you complaining.
He checks the papers the teacher gave you earlier about the project's instructions with the evaluation grid, still pretending the situation is completely normal. "Well, I wanted to and you'll work better with me than with Priya, don't you think?" He turns his head in your direction and his expression is serious. He's genuinely asking you this question.
You shrug, frowning even more. "This wasn't for you to decide," you clench your fists on the table, so frustrated that Jimin thinks it's okay to make decisions for you. You're not even close friends, it doesn't make sense. "I prefer working alone if it's like that," you say, rising up from your seat, but the murderous glare he sends you petrifies you on the spot.
"Sit down," he commands severely and you do as he says, fearing him. He eyes you for a few seconds, making sure you won't try to leave him again. When you stay silent, he reports his attention on the project.
You don't say anything else, listening to Jimin's words distractedly, still baffled by what just happened. Students exit the class, others stay, and he offers to go work at the library.
There, you engage in the project with Jimin. You're pleasantly surprised to see that he's really focusing, sharing his ideas and opinions. You suppose he's only hardworking because the result doesn't solely rely on him. You know he's smart, but he prefers to spend his energy on partying instead of on his studies.
An hour passes and you're now working on your own, asking each other's opinion on things you wrote. You eventually forget how he typically forced you to work with him, but you still have this reluctance toward him, this feeling of repugnance.
Jimin isn't disgusting by any means, he's super hot and he knows he is. You might even be attracted to him, no need to deny it when he's so sexy he makes every girl's pussy mewl. But you know better than to act on your sexual desires, especially when they concern a guy as perverted as Jimin.
"Mmh," he seems to be thinking, but you feel like he already knows what he's going to say. "I forgot something at my dorm," he adds, not levelling his gaze from his sheet of paper.
You look at him, confused on why he doesn't explain further, as if it isn't important. "What is it?" You question him and that's when he raises his head, his gaze meeting yours.
His expression is painfully serious, and by now, you can easily recognize that it's a façade. You don't know what he's hiding, but you're sure of one thing; behind those beautiful almond shaped eyes, kindness doesn't reside there.
His eyes pierce through you, watching - observing your person. Jimin does this often, not answering until you feel uncomfortable under his intense stare. You have no clue on what he's trying to do, maybe see how vulnerable you are, how quickly you can break under the mischievous glint of his eyes.
"My charger."
You wouldn't know if Jimin is a liar because everything he says seems believable, the confidence he radiates just tells everyone how trustworthy this man is. But you look over the table where his phone lays down and the screen lights up as he just received a text. His battery is half full.
He takes his iPhone back into his hand, shoving it in his jeans' front pocket as he stands up from his chair. He tidies his stuff back into his pencil case then into his JanSport backpack, but he stops to look at you when you don't do the same thing. "Aren't you coming with me?" Again, his question is asked with a serious tone, as if following him to his dorm is the normal thing to do.
"I thought we'll just leave it there for today," you confess in a small voice, looking up at him from your seat. Your grip on your pencil tightens when his gaze flicks between your face and your breasts. You despise how he doesn't even hide it.
"No," he breathes out calmly, tilting his head to the side. "We'll continue it at my place, we can't stop now, we're doing so well," he smiles and like the unbothered person that he is, he pulls on your pen. It slips out of your hold and Jimin drops it off in your pencil case. "I really want to do this right this time."
And like that, the conversation is closed. You have no choice but to follow him somewhere you've never been before, somewhere you know he won't hold himself back.
Tumblr media
Jimin is guiding you with his soft voice, his hand placed on the small of your back, brushing his fingers adorned with rings across your naked body. You are sobbing out, feeling dirty, but the tingle between your legs is so good.
His lips are close to your ear, the corners of his mouth lifted to form a devilish smile. "Look at you, sweet thing... enjoying yourself, aren't you?" He whispers into your ear, doing slow circular motions with his hand on your back to soothe you.
You are humping his white pillow, rubbing your pussy frantically against the soft cotton material. Jimin is watching you closely, his smirk never leaving his plush lips. If someone is enjoying it the most, it's him. He likes seeing you losing your dignity bit by bit, and that, only because he asked you to.
The hair on the nape of your neck is wet and you have to tuck his pillow upwards regularly, this one falling down from your weak grip. Jimin doesn't bother to give you a hand, liking the way you are struggling to rut your hips against the soiled pillow, so eager to finally have your release.
For him, it's okay. Making you submit, ripping the last bit of confidence you had in you, forcing you to do things you find wrong. 'It's natural, after all', he said. 'Your body needs it, you can't keep denying your sexual desires for the rest of your life'. He is right about one point; your body needs it, but not you. It's where he fails to understand.
"See, I knew you would like it... I knew you'd like to rub that little pussy on a pillow," he purrs into your ear, smiling even more when a whine confirms his words. "Don't forget to look at the camera, sweetie," he pats your hair and you raise your head, frowning when you see yourself on his phone's screen.
It's placed on his desk chair in front of his bed, levelled on his chemistry books. When you think about it, the chair was already there, facing the bed, as you entered his room earlier. He had set up everything in advance and the thought itself makes you shudder so deeply that your members shake beside you.
"Jimin-!" You gasp out, the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening. You grind your hips harder and faster on the pillow, the same he's sleeping on each night, and feel yourself trembling in anticipation of your orgasm.
At the small call of his name, his face softens, his lips in an exaggerated pout. He takes pity on you, nothing more, just pity because you're so pathetic and weak trying to make yourself cum by humping his pillow.
"I know, baby," he coos, caressing your back, the cool silver of his rings brushing against your burning skin. His other hand gropes your breasts, strong veins pulsing out along his arm. He fumbles the flesh of your boobs, teasing your perky nipples with his palm. "Just let it go..."
You rub your clit against Jimin's pillow, twisting the fabric between your fingers, moving your hips frantically until your orgasm hits you. Jimin looks at you in awe, he has a wicked curiosity to watch you shake in pleasure - a pleasure you didn't ask for. He loves the tears that run down your chubby cheeks, loves that despite everything, you still like this.
You whine as you drive off your high, soiling the pillow with your juices and cum. Jimin lets out a groan, pulling the cushion away from your drenched cunt. "You did such a good job, baby," he praises you and passes an arm around your waist, bringing you against him. "What a sweet girl, so obedient, and just for me."
His free hand grips the back of your thigh and pulls it over his hip, making you fall underneath him on the mattress. You moan softly, feeling your pussy quivering, asking more than just a clitoral orgasm.
Jimin settles between your legs, pampering your neck in sloppy kisses, discovering your body with his pillowy and plump pink lips. He hesitates to mark you, to leave love bites all over your skin, but he refrains himself from it. Not yet.
Your hair is spread all over his bed, your beautiful tits displayed for him. He places a hand above your shoulder on the mattress to support his weight, the other holding your thigh that is locked behind his back. He lowers his head toward your breasts and positions himself better, bending his elbow beside your arm instead of leaving his hand next to your head.
His hot breath hits your nipples, making them even harder. He wraps his plushy lips around one, suckling on it avidly, leaving you panting heavily. Your face is hot, the entire room feels hot, and you think you might melt down under Jimin.
He licks your supple flesh, feeling the lines of your stretch marks under his pink muscle. He plays with the other that is left out by his mouth, pinching and pulling on your little bud. Quickly, your boobs are glistening in his spit, a beautiful sight he wants to reproduce every time he's with you.
"Jiminie..." You moan his name, arching your back as he bites gently on your nipple, flattening his tongue over it after as if to apologize for the pain. You're like a little doll for Jimin to play with, to love and care for.
He's acting awfully sweet as he rips the pureness out of you, sucking fervently on your nipples that you feel your stomach clench. It's a mix of discomfort and pleasure, making you feel weird, but also giving your core tingles you've never experienced before.
His crotch presses against your wet pussy and he slowly grinds his hips, making you aware of his hard cock trapped in his jeans. He detaches his lips from around your nipple and your breast bounces down to the side after. Jimin finds his spot in the crook of your neck again, still grinding his hips against yours.
He lets out a guttural moan from his throat and your pussy clenches around nothing but air. You have to admit that you don't really know what's happening, too drunk on the hormones both of your bodies are releasing. The rutting of Jimin's hips is pleasuring you, stimulating your clit perfectly, but that's not what you wanted, is it?
"Mmh, fuck," he curses, nuzzling your neck and giving you little kisses that want to be reassuring. "I'm so fucking horny, I want to fuck you so bad you have no idea," he presses his bulge harder on you, wanting to feel more friction, but his clothes are restraining him too much.
He looks you in the eye, catching every little moan that escapes your lips, accompanying his grunts and the noise of his bed creaking. He breathes onto your face as he painfully grinds his hips against yours. Maybe you would like him to penetrate you and fuck you until you can't feel any of your limbs, or until he ejaculates deep into you, stuffing you full of his seeds.
Maybe you would like it, maybe you would consider it.
He breaks eye contact as he sits back on his knees, glancing at your messy cunt, quivering helplessly. He grips the back of his white t-shirt with his two hands, pulling on the collar to pass it over his head. He throws it away on the floor where your clothes are as well, revealing to you his beautiful chest.
He has a tattoo on his rib cage, the word nevermind spelled in uppercase inked on his pale skin. His abs are well defined and his nipples are in a shade of dark pink. You can see the muscles of his biceps and he has a trail of hair under his belly button, going to his pelvis. Jimin looks dreamy, it's a shame that he has such a nasty reputation.
He unbuckles his belt, the clanking sound making your stomach flutter, pussy impatiently waiting for him and what he has to deliver. He doesn't stop looking at you as he unbuttons his jeans and unzips them while your eyes immediately lower to his crotch. Under these boxers, there's a huge bulge, and you imagine a thick cock, average length but unreal girth.
"Do you want to see my cock, sweetie?" He asks you in a gentle voice, a smile on his lips, but there is no mockery behind it. Though he's asking, he's not really waiting for your consent. He doesn't need it, not at the point where you are. "Aren't you a little bit curious?" His right hand comes to caress his hard on over his boxers, veiny hand gripping it and palming it.
You don't respond, mostly because you don't know what to say. You glimpse in the direction of the chair where his phone is settled down, seeing Jimin's body hovering over yours. He looks so imposing, dominating, and for some reason this sends a wave of heat between your legs.
You look back at him and you swallow, wondering if all of this talk is to make a show for the camera. You know he knows how much it disturbs you, but it seems like it doesn't bother him. It spurs him on even more, watching your face contort in discomfort and fear, wanting to bury yourself six feet under ground.
But he also knows that despite those negative feelings, you like this situation very, very much. Your body betrays your emotions; pussy leaking down your ass, wetness sticking to your inner thighs, nipples hard and pupils dilated.
He bites down on his bottom lip, passing his thumbs under the band of his briefs. Your heart accelerates, mind going crazy at the fact of seeing Jimin's dick just in front of you, centimetres away from your crotch.
"So excited to see me... You're going to like it, baby, believe me," he chuckles, lingering his eyes over your naked body, noticing the goosebumps running along your skin and making your hair stand up on your arms.
You almost whimper when he tucks the band of his boxers down, setting his cock free from its confines. It twitches twice before standing up proud against his pale stomach, pink tip glistening from pre-cum under the light of his bedroom.
You were right; Jimin is girthy, not super long and unshaved, but his head reaches a few inches under his belly button. He's really thick, and with what you've already seen in your life, you know his dick can't enter without forcing the entry a little bit. And this is not good, really not good. Not to mention the size of his balls that will surely leave bruises on your ass.
You're not sure if you like it.
You back away on the bed, trying to escape Jimin, but he's fast at gripping your thighs and pushing you back over to him. A laugh doesn't miss to leave his mouth, finding you silly for trying to run away from him when really, there's no way of getting away.
"It's okay, little thing. No need to fight..." His gaze lowers down to his dick where he takes it in his hand, angling it toward your pussy. "It's going to happen whether you want it or not," his last words end up in a whisper, too focused on swiping his tip through your folds to speak louder.
Your walls clench around nothing and you curse yourself for it, knowing that Jimin probably saw it. You whine when you feel him rubbing his mushroom head against your clit, his cock now covered in your wetness. He teases your hole, circling it slowly, collecting more of your arousal on his length.
Then, he pushes his head in slightly, testing how your pussy adjusts itself to the size of his thick cock. You wince as he pushes in over and over again, never putting more than the tip.
"Please, stop- Jimin, it's too much," you shake under him and throw your arms over his shoulders, this simple action making him actually reconsider what he's doing. "I can't take it..."
His eyes shift up to your face, not saying anything yet, observing if you're bluffing or not. If he's a good liar, then you're a bad one. He sighs, replacing his hands on each side of your head. "Don't worry," he promises, his lips brushing the side of your face, his breath tickling your burning cheek.
He glides his cock over your cunt, spreading your pussy lips apart and covering his erection in your juices. His girth stimulates your bud of nerves just the way you need it to feel the knot in your tummy tightening again. You're still sensitive, but it feels good. It's dirty, having your cum dripping down your hole, having Jimin's dick sliding up and down your drenched pussy, mixing his pre-cum to your own arousal.
Dirty, but great, oh, so great.
The zippers of his jeans sting the skin of your thighs as he grinds his cock over your clit non-stop, making you whine and moan, in pleasure or in pain, whatever it is you don't care anymore. It's slow and somehow sensual at first, Jimin moaning himself while driving his erection through your folds.
He gives you small kisses all over your face and while he does so, you can't believe that this is the same man that you used to say you hated so much. Each kiss is warm and soft, on your cheekbones, on your forehead or on the corner of your mouth, you love them all. You could forget about his phone filming your intercourse, you could forget about how he forced you to team up with you, you could forget about everything just by the delicate touch of his plump lips on your skin.
Each roll of his hips seems painful with the way he hisses and twists the bedsheets between his fists, very weak strings holding him back from fucking his cock into your pussy. You don't understand why he respects your boundaries now, but you won't complain.
"Mmh, a-ah, fuck..." You can't get over the fact how his voice sounds so angelic, so pure, and yet, he's doing that to you. Even his deepest moans are honeyed, butterflies flapping their wings in your belly as he growls into your ear.
He fastens the cadence of his hips before stopping, as if he'd have broken down to his real urges if he had continued.
"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I'll have to cum on your face," he informs you, his wet cock leaving your pussy. "And I want some souvenirs..." He smiles deviously, getting up on his knees to stand over your chest.
You watch him pump himself lazily, his cock hovering over your face, mouth hanging open to catch your breath. He frowns and lets out a guttural moan, looking at your poor figure laying helplessly under him. He wets his lips and directs the tip of his cock to your mouth. You close it and he takes the opportunity to pass his head over your lips, smearing your own cum on them.
He tilts his head to the side, smiling as he glances at you with such a sick curiosity. "Do you like tasting yourself on my cock, baby? Hmm?" His eyes glint in mischievousness, so turned on to use you how he pleases, how he always wanted it. "Tastes good, doesn't it? Couldn't get enough even if you wanted to..." It doesn't have much of a flavour, you think, but Jimin seems to really like it.
He decides to jerk himself off just above your face and you clench your thighs, watching in awe how his hand grips tightly his erect penis and how his palm runs up and down smoothly around it. There's something about not being able to move, trapped under Jimin, that has your clit throbbing furiously.
Maybe it's something about him pleasuring himself shamelessly, spurts of your arousal splashing around as he fucks his fist, or something about his soft but deep moans he lets out from time to time, staring at you intently as you're the one making him so horny right now.
He passes a hand through his black hair, his bangs wet from his sweat. He twists his wrist, focusing on his swollen tip before stroking his whole length. "Ah, shit," he sounds really sensitive, sucking air through his teeth. "Gonna cum," he announces rapidly, fastening the pace of his palm.
The veins on his arm are producing, and you're amazed at how many there are. His rings shine as the light makes them glint each time he comes up to his mushroom head.
You open your mouth by instinct, flattening your tongue on your chin, which makes Jimin groans angrily. "Aah, what a good fucking slut," he angles his dick toward your face, long strands of white cum landing on your face as he moans out loudly. "Oh, God..." He mutters under his breath, spilling his creamy cum across your face.
It doesn't go as planned, his seeds leak down on your nose and forehead in a long trail rather than on your tongue and lips. You close one eye because some of his cum drips down on it, keeping the other open. He fucks himself dry, little white beads spilling out of his tip to fall on your cheeks.
"Mmh, fuck, so pretty..." Jimin's eyes linger on your face, stroking himself distractedly as his cock softens in his hand. You retract your tongue back in your mouth, watching him pick up his phone from the chair.
He stops the recording and goes to take a photo vertically, cupping your chin to make you face the camera correctly. He smiles behind his phone, thumb hovering over the button. You hear the capturing sound two times before he's starting another recording.
He lets go of your chin to collect his cum on his fingers that was dripping down to your eye, bringing his digits to your lips. You can then open your eyelid, parting your lips slightly for him to insert his index and middle finger in. You lick them clean, tasting him on your tongue. It's salty, but nothing really repulsive as you thought it would be.
He pulls out of your mouth, giving your cheek a slight slap. You feel the wetness of your saliva on it. Jimin throws his phone away on his bed when he's finished with the video, stuffing himself back into his jeans. He gets up from you and helps you wipe the remains of his cum on your face.
You don't move until he dresses you in one of his t-shirts, your body completely drowned in it. You go pee and when you get out of the bathroom, he envelops you in his strong arms, bringing you back to bed.
He hugs you tightly against his naked chest, laying his head on your chest in a really intimate manner. "You won't tell anyone? Please," you whisper and he elevates his head from you, looking at you with a serious expression.
He answers nothing, instead he lays on his side and pulls you closer. He strokes your hair gently as you listen to his heartbeat, mind empty. You fall asleep eventually, only to wake up the next day, leaving in a hurry to your own dorm to prepare yourself for another day of university.
Tumblr media
You are sitting on a bench in the university's baseball field, doing homework once again. Jimin is always glancing at you from where he is on the field, throwing the ball at Taehyung for him to hit with the bat he's holding.
Taehyung and Jungkook are changing places regularly, one or the other being the hitter. Seokjin is monitoring the two youngest, giving them tips or correcting the way they are positioned since he's the most experienced, being the baseball team's captain.
Priya is beside you, glued to her phone, probably texting Namjoon, the guy she's seeing at the moment. A gym addict, you remember her telling you and also apparently Seokjin's good friend from another campus.
Even though you're focused on your work, you still feel Jimin's eyes on you and it scares you to think that he might have told everyone about you two. He didn't because no one has addressed it, but there's a doubt, a little voice in your head telling you that he didn't respect your wish to keep it a secret.
If your friends know it, your parents, even the whole school... you have no idea how you will manage it. It doesn't seem like much of a big deal, but you just don't want this kind of information to follow you for life. Jimin isn't the type of guy you want to be associated with.
Despite the sweet nicknames he calls you, his devilish smile that makes butterflies erupt in your tummy, his insanely pretty face, his soft voice that makes you shiver, his plump pink lips browsing your skin, his beautiful hands gripping your thighs, his hot cum painting your face, how he's so gentle but has the evilest intentions at the same time.
Despite all of those things, you don't want him. You really don't. But he does.
The time passes as the boys' laughters fill the air, the positions changing; Priya talking with Taehyung, Seokjin and Jungkook bickering, Jimin making fun of them and glancing your way when his attention drifts off of his friends.
You sigh when you have to get back to your dorm by yourself, your unfaithful friend too swamped by a boy to realize you're still there. You collect your things, laptop in its cushioned case and notes back into its assigned binder.
You think you can sneak out of the baseball field without anyone noticing, but you're so wrong to even assume he doesn't have his eyes set on you.
Outside the field, you stop walking when a familiar voice calls you. "Where are you going?" You turn around, only to be met with, evidently, Jimin.
You shrug, glimpsing behind you where the university's building is. "To the dorms..." You answer, not too sure why you sound hesitant. It's not like you need his permission to go back to your room. It's late at night anyway, and you don't want to get bit by mosquitoes.
He closes the distance between you two, stepping ever so slowly, as if to tease you, to chase you. No need to go faster, he knows you'll stay there, frozen on the spot.
"You can go back with the others," you say, frowning as you want him to leave you alone. You don't voice this wish, though and you're lucky you don't because he doesn't like being rejected, especially by you.
His gaze darkens as he narrows his eyes at you and you're scared for a moment before the corner of his mouth lifts up into a smirk. "No, I'm coming with you," he decides and you know this isn't a proposition, it's a statement.
But you're not okay with this. So you back away slightly, still facing him, breath quickening. He notices your reluctance and he frowns, a scowl on his face. You keep moving back and he keeps moving forward, that is until you have enough and run in the university's direction.
Your sudden move takes Jimin by surprise and you hear him calling your name, clearly annoyed with you. He asks himself if he should run after you because if he does people will see him and that's not something he wants. But he knows you're going to the dorms, so he just has to arrive there before you do.
You soon make your way to the university residence building, relieved Jimin didn't follow you. You thought he would have, but it seems like he didn't want to bother running after you. You nonetheless look behind you from time to time, verifying in case he did in fact follow you, but you don't see him.
A little voice tells you how unfortunate it is that he didn't chase after you. Is it because he doesn't like you anymore? For some twisted reason, this idea disappoints you. Did he realize you weren't as interesting as he thought you would be or does he think you were shitty in bed? That would be quite humiliating and sad.
You liked the attention he gave you.
When you step into the corridor your room is located in, your eyes widen and your heart almost explodes as you see Jimin casually waiting in front of your door. You didn't expect him to be there, how did he even enter without you noticing?
You feel like a poor little bunny who has nowhere to go, damned to be eaten alive by the big, bad wolf slowly approaching its prey. But the difference between you and the bunny is that you're secretly turned on to be tracked down by Jimin.
He pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on when he perceives you walking in. His smile doesn't leave his beautiful plump lips, his mischievous eyes scanning your little body from head to toe.
As he reaches you, you finally come out of your torpor. "Jimin," you warn him and he stops, inches away from you. "I'm not... doing this. I don't want to."
He doesn't look convinced at all. Who are you trying to fool now, you or him? It's better not to be him because he's not the kind to give up on something he really wants.
He tilts his head, looking at you curiously, the expression he does when something intrigues him. "Don't act like this now, sweetie," he purrs, closing the gap between you two. Your breath is caught in your throat, avoiding his gaze at all cost. You're trapped between him and the wall. "You wouldn't like to have your pretty body leaked, hm, baby? It wouldn't really be a secret anymore..."
He touches your cheek with his hand, caressing the side of your face with his index finger. You shudder, pressing your books tightly against your chest. "W-What? I thought- I thought..." You stutter out, heart thumping against your rib cage.
"It doesn't matter what you thought, sweet thing." His words come out husky, his hot breath fanning across your face, making goosebumps run all over your skin. "It's okay if you don't want to, but you have to know that there'll be consequences," he almost sings this threat to you as he sounds so angelic and you're more and more scared by him. Scared in a way that makes your clit throb.
He cages you between the wall and him, pressing his body against yours feverishly til it makes him ill. Your two breaths intertwine, mingling together to create a compact atmosphere where it's hard for you to even think straight.
"The videos.... oh, and that pic," he reminds you and the events are quick at coming back into your mind. "Are all saved in my phone, only for me to look at... and believe me, I must have replayed them at least ten times, if not more," he informs you. "And, God, I was so hard just looking at you, baby."
You can't help but clench your thighs, imagining him with his phone in one hand, his cock in the other.
"Jimin," you breathe out quietly, coming out like a whisper, the sound of your voice making him focus on you. He glances down at your face, watching your lips parting to pronounce your next word. "Stop..."
Though he might have been soft before, you rejecting him again when you're clearly turned on makes him mad. He grabs your wrist and you gasp when he pulls you with him, bringing you to his room instead of yours.
You try to free yourself from his grip, but you fail miserably, almost tripping over your feet. Some people look at you weirdly, no one really stops to ask what's going on. He drags you to his door and opens it hurriedly, closing it when you're both inside.
He takes your books and your backpack away from you, putting them on the ground. You observe him in awe, you're completely in shock. He removes his baseball jacket swiftly as well as his shoes and pushes you on his bed. Your body bounces back on the mattress, Jimin crawling up to you like a hungry feline.
Heat floods through your abdomen to your core, setting your whole body on fire while your panties are getting wet as he's about to do whatever he wants to you. You squirm under him, but not because you want to get away - your body is aching to be touched, to be pleasured.
Face to face, he presses his body against yours until there's no gap separating you. He is insistent and you feel like suffocating, but you'll survive, very much so. Jimin is giving you his breath and you're giving him yours.
His t-shirt hangs loosely on him, the ends of the sleeves stopping just over his elbows. Some kisses are placed on your cheeks, on your lips, on your neck. It tingles sweetly, your stomach doing a flip, butterflies partying in your belly, pussy mewling. You feel everything at once, and intensively.
You don't protest when he removes your crop top, letting your breasts out, nipples hardening from the cold air hitting them. He plays with them for a brief moment, pinching and pulling on the little buds, before lowering down on you. Your mouth hangs open, not expecting him to do that to you.
He pulls your shoes off your feet, letting them fall on the floor beside his bed. He eyes your little white socks, deciding it'd be better if you keep them on. Due to your position and the fact that you're wearing a skirt, Jimin can see your cotton panties from his point of view. He smirks, looking at the wet patch over your cunt.
He passes an arm under your back, pulling the zipper of your skirt down and he rips the material off of you. You gasp at his brutality, but you don't think about it furthermore as he hooks his fingers under the band of your underwear, sliding it down your legs despite your little whines of embarrassment.
Your femininity is now very exposed to his insatiable eyes, gazing at it like a hungry man. Settled between your legs, he passes them over his shoulders, holding the back of your thighs so they stay open for him.
"Hmm, always so pretty... And it's all for me," he licks his lips, pink tongue peeking through them. He pushes your thighs up against your chest so he has a better access to your cunt, already glistening in your arousal. Only your feet are touching his shoulders, now. You wish for a moment that he was shirtless, and you're too shy to ask him to remove his t-shirt.
Your meaty thighs are squished over your lower stomach and you won't lie that the position is hard to keep. You're not that flexible, and surely not athletic, unlike Jimin. You whimper a little bit, feeling his breath on your wet pussy, making you shiver.
"Hold your legs up for me, sweetie," he softly commands, giving you an appreciative smile when you sneak your hands under your knees. "Good girl," he praises and you can feel your clit pulsating at how badly his words affect you.
He places his arms around your thighs and takes a hold of your hips. The cool metal of his rings brushes against your skin and you notice the chain around his neck dangling, the pendant bumping into the bed covers.
Jimin finally focuses on your cunt and when he blows on it, you can't hold in your moan. He's happy to hear your reactions, loving how you're so sensitive, how your puffy clit begs him to suck on it. But the first thing he does is kiss your inner thighs delicately while caressing your body along your curves with his veiny hands.
Then, his lips get closer to your warmth, impatiently waiting for him. He wraps his lips around your bud of nerves and suckles on it, eliciting quiet moans from you. It's gentle and you've never felt better, your fingers are in no comparison to his skillful mouth.
He sucks a bit more and your face contorts in pleasure. You try to glance at Jimin, but your position only allows you to see a fluffy head of black hair buried between your legs. The view is so filthy and you become drunk off his mouth, loving what's happening, barely remembering that he threatened you to leak the videos of you two having sex.
The sucks turn into licks, his wet muscle sliding from your hole up to your swollen clit, parting your pussy lips apart in the process. He teases your entrance with the tip of his tongue, circling around it, just dipping in slightly enough to make you needy.
Before you can ask for more, he flicks his tongue on your sensitive bud, moving his muscle from side to side rapidly. You moan out, feeling delicious tingles in the pit of your stomach. You grip your thighs harder, pussy clenching and begging to be fucked by Jimin's huge dick with such eagerness.
"Oh, my God, Jimin!" Your legs start to shake and his tongue gives you an orgasm, arching your back as he keeps stimulating your clit until you're off your high.
You sense him collecting your cream with his tongue, dipping into your folds. You let go of your thighs, letting them fall by your sides. You try to catch your breath as Jimin is still nuzzled in your pussy as if he's licking the plate after eating his meal, leaving nothing behind.
"Please, s-stop..." You cry out, being overstimulated by him. You attempt to push his head away, but he doesn't nudge a bit. "It's too much."
He looks up at you, leaning on his elbows. "Stop complaining or I'll fuck this pussy with my cock without feeling any pity," he warns you and you give up, but you still whine weakly.
When you think he's finished, he penetrates you with two fingers at once, sliding in so easily with how wet you are. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, your own fingers are certainly not as big as Jimin's. They might be small for a man, but in no way that means they're the same size as yours.
"Shh, my sweet baby, it's okay. Relax, you're so tense..." He says, face hovering over your cunt as he slowly pumps his digits into you. He keeps them straight the first few strokes, but he starts to scissor your insides as well. You feel your pussy expanding around his fingers, it's a really unfamiliar sensation, but since it's Jimin, you slowly chill down.
He hooks his fingers perfectly inside of you, brushing against your sweet spot. The overstimulation is replaced by this new pleasure, much more intense and significant than the other. He expertly moves his two digits at a regular pace, holding your thigh up with his free hand.
Your juices are dripping down your ass, the feeling kind of uncomfortable, but Jimin fingering you makes you forget about everything around you except for him.
His palm is facing up, colliding with your clit each time he's knuckles deep into your messy cunt. He hums pleasantly when he feels you clench around him, seeing that you're having a good time. He lowers his head again and you immediately grasp his hair in your fist when he nips at your sensitive clit.
He flattens his palm since his chin is in the way and instead pets your spot inside of you with the pads of his fingers. It's sweet and almost magical. You feel like he's munching on your pussy, opening and closing his mouth over your clit, tongue viciously licking the little bud. It's slow, it's perfect, it's everything your body needs. That you need.
You let out soft moans, pulling on his black locks, completely in love with his mouth until it leaves you again. You would have complained, despite his warning of earlier, but he literally finger fucks you and it cuts you off instantly from saying anything.
He doesn't miss a beat, constantly rubbing your magic spot, making you lift your back from the mattress. You twist the bedsheets between your fingers, a fire in your belly, growing more and more with Jimin's ministrations.
"What the-!" You never say the end of your sentence, frowning and closing your eyes as you let the pleasure of another orgasm take over you. Jimin never stops, gaze shifting between your face and your pussy regularly to catch your reactions. "Jimin, wha-what's... Oh, God!" You scream, and everything happens so fast.
He pumps his fingers in and a clear liquid floods out of your cunt, in droplets first, but then bigger. You don't see what's happening, but an intense pleasure rips through you and your body is shaking like a leaf.
"Oh, fuck," you hear Jimin cursing, almost moaning after. His rhythm slows down, more fluid coming out. "You're such a girl good, shit, it's so fucking hot," he growls and stops his movements, hand cupping your cunt, patting it gently.
There's a wet puddle under your ass and you blink several times, coming back to Earth, feeling totally knocked out. "Jiminie..." You whine out, looking down at him.
The front of his t-shirt is soaked and some droplets fall from his chin. Immediately, you feel your cheeks heating up, so embarrassed from what you did. You squirted all over him to the point of wetting his clothes. But he looks nowhere disgusted, rather turned on than anything else.
He laughs, though it's not to mock you at all. He's just so happy, so fucking in love.
"I'm sorry..." You apologize shyly, but Jimin shakes his head, crawling back up to you.
"No, baby, no..." He coos, pampering your cheeks and forehead in feathery kisses. "There's nothing to be sorry for. It felt good, am I right?" He asks and you nod, feeling particularly ashamed. "Of course it was, I should have filmed it... Well, maybe next time," he sighs contentedly, smiling adorably.
He kisses you on the lips and after that intense orgasm, you start to feel guilty. Embarrassed, ashamed. Not because you stained his t-shirt, but because you liked it. A lot.
It makes you want to repeat it solely with Jimin. Forever and ever. But you can't, not again, not after you told yourself you wouldn't.
For Jimin, it was everything he's ever wanted in his life. You and him in the same bed, having sex, enjoying yourselves. It couldn't be better, really. He'll do anything it takes to keep you with him and believe him when he tells you there's going to be a next time.
Nothing will stop him from having what he wants, not even you.
4K notes · View notes
cybsoo2 · 11 days
Text
Tumblr media
a bleeding bruise
╰┈➤ synopsis — Two failures have unfolded tonight. A failed escape attempt on your part, and a punishment that leaves more lasting damage then the boys had expected. 
╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!vminkook x reader
╰┈➤ word count — 4.2k
╰┈➤ content warning — yandere behavior, violence, assault, verbal abuse, injury, strong language, angst, jk’s a bit of a jerk :(
Tumblr media
“NO! NO! PLEASE STOP! I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY!” Shrill screams suffocate the silence. Your useless pleas are ignored as three men carry you back to where you belong. “I WON’T DO IT AGAIN, PLE-”
“BE QUIET!” Jungkook muffles your crying with the palm of his hand. He masks his words with anger to hide his anguish. Your tears create a hole in his heart.
Three sets of hands grasp you tightly. Their rough grip leaves raw imprints onto your wrists and waist. You try to squirm under their hold, and it works for a second when you free your legs to try and kick at them. In the end the struggling creates more problems when Taehyung tears you apart from the others and throws you over his shoulder.
You pound your fists against his back and continue begging to be let go. Pathetic pleas of ‘Please let me go,’ ‘I’ll be good now,’ or ‘I’m sorry, I love you,’ fall down to the forest floor. Your punches grow more panicked and as you fight through your fury, Jimin grabs your wrists to stop you.
“Stop hurting him.” He pleads with you in a gentle tone. He’s two seconds away from bursting into tears, but he chokes his cries back by begging. “I love you, I love you, why can’t you make this easy.” His hushes are spoken as they continue to walk. 
Small crystals begin to fall from the sky. Your own crying is muted by Taehyung’s sweater. Your sadness leaves stains that he’ll have to worry about later.
While Jungkook leads the way back to the house, Jimin mutters pretty prayers that you won’t hate them after this punishment. He strokes your hanging head and says, “This is for the better, you’ll understand once it’s over.”
Jungkook successfully navigates your way through the forest and the backyard of your home peeks out of the treeline. Once you step out under the protection of the bristles and branches, the rain begins to leave you drenched. It’s an uncomfortably cold wetness that makes you shift atop Taehyung’s shoulder. Jimin and Taehyung lead you to the middle of the backyard and you’re lifted off Tae’s shoulder to stand on two feet.
You shiver against Taehyung’s chest. He holds you tightly to him with his gentle hands holding your hips. His touch doesn’t hurt, but it’s strong enough to let you know you won’t be able to get away again. He stares straight ahead to where Jungkook walks away back into the house. An anxious feeling buries its way into your bones once you pick up on his nervous ticks. He shifts his weight and tugs you tighter against him. His jaw is clenched, keeping secrets stored about what sort of punishment you’ll be subject to. Despite being so close, he keeps his distance. Usually so affectionate, now he doesn’t make a move to melt into you. He keeps his head up against the rain and doesn’t spare you a single look.
Jimin can barely contain the nervous jitters that jostle him. His uneasy eyes switch between you and Jungkook’s figure now emerging from the house. He carries cold chains that hang over his shoulders and wrap around his wrists. They’re so long that the excess drags down behind him. 
The sight of the chains instills an instant panic. You tremble against Taehyung’s touch and forget how to breathe when Jungkook’s footsteps get closer. Shocked by a sudden rush of adrenaline, you strike Taehyung in the gut and turn to run. You only make it a few steps before you’re forced to the ground. Jimin slams into you and you fall face-first into the cement. He catches your arms as they thrash about and holds them in a vice-grip. Taking your wrists with one hand, he reaches down to your waist and flips you over. 
The next thing you see is Taehyung in front of your face. He straddles over you with his knees restraining your legs. His hands slide up to your shoulders, staring at you with dead eyes. 
You’re forced away from Taehyung’s gaze when Jungkook tugs at your hair, turning your eyes up to focus on him. 
“If you want to act like an ungrateful bitch, then we’ll treat you like one.” The venom he spits strikes your heart. It stings to be subject to his twisted tongue. Cruel words collide with their punches. The cold chain wrapped around your leg is the only thing keeping you connected with the world. You’re so sure that if you didn’t have this steel tether, you’d be beaten down to hell by the heat of their attacks. 
You’re struck with kicks and punches from one while another assaults you with rotten words. Someone else is settled at your side, holding down your body despite your stillness. 
You blocked out most of their beating. Seeing those loveless eyes sent you into isolation. The bleeding and bruising so overwhelming that you ended up running away from your mind. Yet, you remember the rain. It cried alongside you, relentless and cruel. Your focus found the sky and stayed there until they were done. 
A semi-silence wraps itself around the four of you. Only small pants for breathe and soft sobbing are audible. The rain blends into the background as you focus on the three men that now stand above you. It’s so dark out you can hardly see their faces. Black borders surround your shaking body and stare. You now realize that this midnight madness has come to an end. 
You now sit as a sobbing mess under the crying sky. The rain ricochets off your beaten body. Rain and tears fall forever; all sorrow is soaked back into the earth. The cold air kisses all the skin you have to spare. The metal chain wrapped around your leg clanks together due to your violent shaking. 
No matter how much the cold bites at your back, your heart feels more frostbitten. You can barely even feel the phantom kicks and punches anymore. Your mind only replays the memories of them turning their backs as you beg.
Did you really go too far? Did you fuck up so badly that life will be even more tortuous than before? Even if you hated them for stealing your freedom and feelings away, at least they loved you. They showed you kindness and empathy. Such curious killers that haven’t shown you any animosity since they stole you away. 
Each raindrop that falls rips into your heart even further. This punishment is proof of your wrongdoing. You don’t even care about the beating at this point, you only yearn to be loved. To be caressed and cradled with care. Do they still love you? Can you prove to them that you can be better than this, that you will be better. Even a hopeless situation can feel the opposite when love turns your attention the other way.
You hadn’t even felt scared when they began to cut and kick you. You deserved it didn’t you? How selfish of you to keep denying these soulmates your love. They’ve given everything they have to make you happy and you went and threw it in the trash. 
You don’t want to suffer any more. Maybe making the best out of this broken life will bring better days.
As you lay lifeless on the pavement, scarlet sorrows spill out of you. It covers the concrete and coats every inch of your existence. As you fall under sleeps spell, you dream of three men. You imagine a man with black hair holding you close. The second fights off the rain with an air of annoyance. And the final illusion soothes away your sadness.
Tumblr media
Taehyung finds himself trying to fight off the darkness that suffocates him. The house is too silent and still. It makes him anxious. He wants to peek out the window to check the damage they’ve done, but Jimin grabs his shoulder and guides him upstairs. A dark despair stains the cream carpet as he slowly makes his way upstairs. Jimin and Jungkook drag themselves ahead of him. A heavy weight holds them down. Their shoulders slump and their smiles sag. 
So slowly, they remove their shoes as they continue their steps and throw them every which way. Soaked shirts and wet pants are quickly taken off.
“We’ll just leave her like that for a little bit.” Jungkook mumbles with an exhausted expression. “Once we warm up and clean off we can go back and get her.”
“Isn’t that too long?” Jimin holds hesitance between two lips. His eyebrows frown and he purses his lips in pain. Everything about Jimin shows he’s doubting his decisions. He already began to regret his actions once the rain relapsed. 
“She has to realize there’s consequences for her dumb decisions.” Jungkook stares into Jimin and his tired teary eyes give away everything. “I love her too and I don’t like hurting her. But we can’t let her think she can try running away whenever she wants.”
“But what if she just ends up hating us even more.” Jimins words tremble with terror. Shining streaks start to fall off his face as he fails to hold back his tears.
Taehyung turns Jimin towards him and rubs his shoulder as an attempt to soothe him. “She just has to learn her lesson. Then we’ll rush right back out and fix everything. We’ll clean her cuts and warm her up,” Taehyung tilts his head to look Jimin in the eyes. “It’ll be okay.” 
No one says anything about the lie that leaves Taehyung’s lips. Hopeless words slide down a throat better when they’re coated in honey. Three men tell each other little lies to keep themselves from collapsing. However, they can only float in a fool’s paradise for so long before they come crashing down. 
As the three men take turns in the shower, a sick sense of guilt begins to smother them. A cold chill creeps into their bones that not even a sweltering shower can wash away. 
Tumblr media
An hour has passed by before they decide your punishment has reached its end. The clock strikes 2 and three sets of feet stumble over each other. Everyone trying to be the first to erase their terrible torment. The boys scramble down the stairs, only tripping two times in the restless race. 
They pick you up off the pavement and you welcome their warmth in the rain. 
You cling to Jimin like an extra layer of clothes; he holds you in his arms with a warm welcome. He tugs you closer to his chest, small squeezes and sniffles fill in the silence. In an awkward position, Jimin shuffles the both of you into the house and upstairs with Taehyung leading the way. Jungkook trails closely behind, shushing your cries and smoothing down your hair. 
They don’t speak about the pain and punishment other than the consistent mumbles of ‘I’m sorry.’ 
Your silence scares them. Somehow, it feels easier to be faced with your hatred and indifference than nothing at all. Although, they still hang on to a small sliver of hope that they haven’t lost you yet. They can see the subtle way you grasp onto Jimin’s jacket; holding on with white knuckles as if it’s a lifeline. There’s a shimmer of sadness in your eyes, bordering on bittersweet emotions. They can tell you’re hanging onto the same fated string as them. The four of you have nothing but hope. 
These three men don’t know how to be gentle. They’re love is rough and full of risks. And you don’t know how to be docile. You’d weren’t made to shrink down smaller just so they can control you. But when you reach the bathroom and they tell you to sit, you obey so easily. This change is for the better. The first step to an easier life. Four fated fools that all long for love. Stripping away the pieces of singularity to forcibly fit the puzzle. 
You’re sitting on the edge of the bathroom counter. Taehyung sat at your side to keep you company. Jungkook and Jimin have wandered off to wherever they went. Most likely getting stacks of medical supplies. Taehyung takes your hand and rests his head on your shoulder. You lean back against the mirror, screwing your eyes closed when another sharp sting of pain presses into your side. Taehyung gives a squeeze to the hand he’s holding, silently begging the boys to hurry up. As if they heard his prayers, Jungkook and Jimin reach the bathroom in record time. Jimin takes a seat on the toilet while Jungkook rummages through the first aid kit. 
The small boy at your side lays his head down on your leg. His tears sink into your soaked blue jeans. Anxieties taste like acid on his tongue. And when he leaves lingering kisses to the cuts that litter your legs, that tainted taste is now blurred with blood. He wears your crimson carnage like lipstick. The blood smeared all across his face. Attempting to drown out your pain with passion. His kisses then crawl upwards. Coming close to the cuts on your stomach that Jungkook is stitching up. Every time you wince from the needle stabbing into your skin, Tae and Jimin take turns trying to distract you. 
While Jungkook cleans up your cuts, he asks the others to tend to your bruises. Taehyung takes the ointment from Jungkook’s open hands. He takes a generous amount and mixes it around, efficiently warming it up. Heartbroken bruises burn against his tender touch. The tiniest of touches burns through your bones. A small gasp that stumbles out of your lips causes him to still. He stares at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to tell him to continue. 
Through clenched teeth you mumble a weak, “Keep going.” He hesitates but abides by your words. He traces your bruises with the tips of his fingers, leaving behind hearts that beg for forgiveness. He stares at your scarlet stained features while he trails shapes up your hips and along your arms. A look of pain is plastered on your face. He shares your sadness, taking each tear that escapes your eyes as another stab of torment. 
Jungkook stands between your legs. He works with a deep set determination. Diligent and dangerous with how he handles the needle. He’s quick with every stitch, cursing under his breath every time you pull back in pain. And every so often, when a scarce cry escapes you, he lets his hand slip. Stabbing his skin ever so slightly to feel even an inkling of the pain he’s caused you. Putting pressure on the cut and combining your blood with his. 
Jungkook tries to keep you as steady as possible while he puts together the pieces of their destruction. He lets you lean into Taehyung’s chest and be tainted with touches by Jimin. He doesn’t have time to envy their affections. So, he keeps on stitching, doing the dirty work when the others can’t bear the burden. 
Taehyung and Jimin wrap you in white bandages. You lay limply against Jungkook. Breathing shallow breaths and whispering into his ear, “Do you still love me?”
Jungkook could cry right there. Break down in the bathroom under the weight of his wrongdoing. He can’t hide his emotions when it comes to you. He struggles to stay strong. Hot tears trail down his face and he squeezes his eyes shut, hoping the teardrops will come to a stop. 
“How could you ever think that?” His voice shakes under ultimate sadness. “I love you more than you can imagine. So much so that it makes me sick, and I can’t stand the thought of you ever leaving me. Leaving us.” He raises his hand to run through your hair. Gently pushing your face down to sit on his shoulder. Away from his face and naive to the sobs he tries to stifle. 
When they finish fixing you up, you’re held together by silver string and rotten, red kisses. Taehyung pulls you off the counter and cradles you close to his heart. He carries you to the bedroom and doesn’t let go even when you’ve already reached the bed. He sits you on his lap and watches as the other two rush around him. In a frantic frenzy, they rush to turn off the lights (leaving on the bedside lamp), bundle you in blankets, and grab a dry change of clothes. 
When Jungkook can’t seem to find your clothes fast enough, Taehyung takes matters into his own hands. Sliding off his shirt and slipping it over your shoulders. He then works to slide off your drenched jeans. He leaves your legs bare but covers you in a burden of blankets. Tucking in the corners and tying you up tight. 
Jimin enters the room with water and what seems to be small pills. He kneels down in front of you, his hand resting on your knee and holding out a remedy.
“Take these,” he drops the pills into your empty palm, “and drink some water to wash them down.” You pop the pills into your mouth one by one, washing them down with the water. 
Once everything starts to settle, silence shushes the room and darkness bleeds in through the blinds. You all begin to feel the remnants of your adrenaline-rush. An uneasy exhaustion sticks to your skin. You crawl under the covers and seek solace in their embrace. 
Taehyung drags his fingertips over the skin of your spine. A gentle touch that attempts to settle your shivers and sooth your sadness. The movements are slow, and he distracts himself by counting each indent his fingers reach. He’s cautious to avoid the cuts and bruises, still fresh and fragile. He repeats this motion for many minutes as a way to take both your minds off everything. 
Taehyung doesn’t like to think back on the events that unfolded only hours ago. Your betrayal and beating are tucked away behind blinds in the darkest parts of him. Taehyung tucks away his turmoil and sinks into the sheets. He shimmies down deeper into the mass of blankets and bodies. He hopes tomorrow won’t turn out as terrible as today; wishing on a star that you’ll begin to settle into your new life with new lovers. If you never love them like they want, then you’ll just have to learn how. Playing pretend in a dollhouse made for demons. 
The silence is split by Jungkook’s concern, “Baby? Are you sure you’re okay?” After the damage they’re done he feels the need to double check everything. 
Your mouth is sealed shut. The words you want to speak stick to your insides. You settle for a small nod against Taehyung’s shoulder. The youngest man outstretches his hand to stroke your hair. With such softness, he presses your head into the pillow. He then makes himself more comfortable, sliding into the sheets and slotting himself in between Taehyung’s touch, and the wall. He does so without lifting the hand that holds your head. 
“You’re tired aren’t you? Just try to fall asleep. We’ll be watching over you, don’t worry.” You give a grunt in response. Taehyung’s silent strokes are sending you to sleep, and Jungkook’s fingers running through your hair finally set your heart at ease. Your tiredness takes over and dizzy dreams dance in the distance. 
Before you fall asleep, Taehyung tells you one last thing, “I’m sorry we hurt you… I’m sorry we’re so selfish… But we can’t let you go.”
Tumblr media
You wake during a wilted sunrise. Pink clouds are beaten bloody leaving bloodstains to soak the sky. The red tint of the light lingers above you. The blinds allow just the slightest sliver of sunshine into the room.
Your tired eyes struggle to see in the dark. Fighting off the fatigue only takes a minute or two before clarity can calm you. You drag your head up higher on Taehyung's chest, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. He sleeps soundly under the scarlet sunrise. Short puffs of air tickle your nose whenever he takes a breath.
You look over to your left and see that Jungkook is also a slave to slumber. His youthful features appear worn and weary even in his sleep.
Even if you can’t check behind you to see, you can only assume that Jimin hasn’t woken up from your movement. As his body had sunken into soft slumber, his weight seemed to have doubled. Heavy limbs are draped over you with a possessive person that lags behind. This burden begins to grow painful as your fresh bruises blossom in irritation. You shift closer to Tae, trying to escape the pressure that piles on top of you. When you move only a millimeter to the left, you’re stuck with a sudden pain that leaves you paralyzed. Shot with an icy wave of shock, you struggle to suck in a single breath. A crippling pain swarms in your stomach. It stirs up a sickness that threatens to spill out of you. You slap a hand to your mouth, forcing the feeling back down. 
Once the nausea wanes away, the ache in your abdomen appears to triple. You attempt to stifle a sob, but you should have known that any slight discomfort from you is bound to be discovered. Jungkook begins to stir from the subtle noise. 
He can feel you trembling under his touch. Your name falls from his lips in pure panic. His eyes search your body for any signs of harm. His hands ghost over the bruises that are turning blue. A frown forms when looking at the white bandages that cover the cuts he caused. When he can’t find anything out of the ordinary, he switches his sight to stare right into your eyes. “Is it hurting again? Is it the bruises or the cuts?” Concern chokes him. Sin and shame sting like a venom in his veins. 
You’re still struggling to take control of your tears. Hiding them with your hands and biting back your cries. Jungkook grows more anxious with each second that wastes away. “What do you need? Anything, anything at all. How can I help?” He reaches out to remove your hands in front of your face. 
A fit of coughing chokes you. Jungkook acts fast, sitting up to steady you. His hands almost hover, afraid to cause you anymore harm. But when a second round of coughing and crying starts up, he takes you in his arms. The rapid movements rouse Taehyung from his slumber. His words are slurred with sleep when he asks “Are you okay?” and “What’s happening?” Neither you nor Jungkook answer him. 
Your agony is over spilt and you start coughing all over again. A silver taste mixes with your saliva. “Jungkook,” A tremor takes over your tone. “Jungkook, it hurts.” 
“I know, baby. I know. But where does it hurt?” He runs his rough hands along your back. Settling the shivers that trail up your spine. He shushes your cries and tilts your head up to him. He stares into the saddest sight he’s ever seen. Red-rimmed eyes, pathetic whimpers of pain, and a bottom lip so bitten it’s bleeding. He feels an ache in his chest at your pitiful appearance. He uses his thumb to pull your lip from in between your teeth. 
It’s at this time when Taehyung starts to shake off the effects of a deep sleep. He sits up and leans against your back. One arm is used to steady himself while the other wraps around your waist. His fingers are tied up with the bottom of your (his) shirt. He fidgets with the fabric, trying to focus his mind on anything other than the sounds of your sobbing. He tucks his head over your shoulder and squeezes you a little tighter. 
“It’s my stomach that hurts. I think I might throw up.” At your words, Taehyung loosens up his grip. Instead, he sticks his hand under your shirt to soothe your stomach. He draws circles with his thumb and follows Jungkook’s lead. 
“Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom then.” Jungkook pulls you up, letting you lean on him as he prepares to take you to the bathroom. Taehyung trails behind, struggling with the sheets tied around his legs.
“Jimin,” Tae shakes the man rather roughly. “Wake up. Sweethearts not feeling well.” He doesn’t wait for his friend to wake, too restless at the thought of you injured and too far for comfort. He rushes out of the room and stumbles upon a sight he wishes he didn’t have to see. 
Blood burns through your throat and the next thing you know scarlet is being spilt onto the tile. You share a shaky look with both boys, tears lining all your eyes. Red runs down your lips and stains your shirt. As you stare at Taehyung, scared out of your skin, he can’t help but think that his selfish, lovesick soul will be the cause of your demise.
© cybsoo2 2024, all rights reserved
265 notes · View notes
jimilter · 2 years
Text
put it on me (m) | p.jm. | one-shot
Tumblr media Tumblr media
When you signed up to model your cleavage for a jewelry commercial, no one bothered to tell you it wasn’t gonna be a solo shoot. It’s unfair being blindsided and you want to protest, but A-list model and flirt extraordinaire Park Jimin’s steel-cut abs have you kinda tongue-tied. And then you get kinda too busy thinking of other ways in which you’d like him to shut you up.
pairing: jimin x reader
rating: m (18+)
genre: smut | humor | pwp | a-list model!jimin | freelance model!reader
word count: 8 k
— warnings: swearing + lustful musings + explicit daydreams + reader is boobacious + reader is also a horny bitch + explicit sexual situations (dom!jimin, sub!reader, body worship, sweat kink, dirty talk, degradation, strength kink, praise kink, oral (m&f), throat fucking, vaginal fingering, clit biting, semi-public sex, hints of exhibitionism, humiliation, begging, rough sex, penetrative sex, cum play, breast play, jimin loves her tiddies and she loves his tiddies, Big Dick Jimin™ bec he’s literally canon, orgasm denial, overstimulation, restraints, biting, marking, a lot of licking ugh) + i am slightly ashamed of myself for going so feral, but very very slightly :|
— note: hi, guys. welcome to filth on crack. no fr, if i were to put smack (smutty crack) in a dictionary, i would define it with this fic. idk what chemical exploded in my head. but i am very sorry for what you’re about to witness. believe it or not, this didn't happen solely due to the pictures, tho. @missgeniality bullied me into writing this, sending me pictures and filthy scenarios, to the point where i cried and sat down to do this. any yells and/or notes of gratitude to be sent to her, please. oh and @jeonjcngkook shall also shoulder partial blame for spamming me with different zoomed in angles and versions of the pictures without break. smh. ily both <3
hope y'all enjoy this while i go dunk myself into some holy water~ 😩💜
— masterlist | feedback!
Tumblr media
“I wasn’t told there was a… male model in attendance as well?”
The Director rolls his eyes at your words – rolls his fucking eyes as if him turning your solo shoot into a couple one should not make you ask questions. You never should’ve let Hoseok’s meddlesome ass rope you into this. You don’t have an agency for a reason, you need to stop letting your model friends affect the projects you sign. What's the point of managing your contracts yourself if you’re gonna be an idiot about them? Ugh. 
All this heavy, clunky jewelry on your nearly naked body—well, you have a white, crochet bikini on, but it feels close to nothing due its plunging v-neck and the tie-up thong—and now you won’t even be the center of all attention.
What is the fucking point?
“It’s a last minute addition because the company thinks this chain will look better on a male torso.” The Director flashes all his teeth at you, but you fail to make out any humor in this situation. “Besides, the male model is kind of an A-lister.”
Wow, even better. They signed freaking Sean O’Pry or the likes and now you’re gonna be used as a prop, probably made to lay over the dude’s body like a snake or something while you awkwardly make bedroom eyes at him and he looks off to the side and awkwardly avoids touching you inappropriately. Great. Just great. You swear the moment you talk to Hoseok again, you will—
Hold on a fucking minute.
Who the hell is that?
Your jaw slowly unhinges, falling wide and wider as a guy steps into your view, talking to the annoying Director you were contemplating punches a few minutes back. 
Oh, he’s not a guy, for fuck’s sake. This is Park Jimin – face of more brands than you can count on both your hands. With a jawline sharper than a knife, pouty lips, half-lidded eyes and a solidly built body that he must be living in the gym to maintain, he is the most sought after model of today. If a brand needs some delicious display of naked male chest or abs or thighs? Park Jimin’s their guy. No, for real, man takes off his shirt at the drop of a hat. Pants too, for that matter.
Not that you’re complaining, though, no, far from it. He looks like a whole snack in that floral printed jacket that he’s got on without anything underneath. His abs are so defined, you can literally count all six of them across the twenty feet’s distance between you two, and his dusky pectoral muscles bulge tantalizingly. 
Wow.
A five-course meal is shooting this commercial with you.
Now you want to be used as a prop and lay across his body like a snake and make bedroom eyes at him and, fuck, you hope he touches you inappropriately. Which you probably won’t have to hope too hard for, given how he’s always in the news for sleeping with everyone he works with. Damn, you need to send Hoseok a gift basket after this. 
Fuck, he’s looking your way.
Short, slicked back hair bares the entirety of his forehead for your viewing pleasure, and the strong line of his brows immediately has your breath hitching. He isn’t just beautiful or sexy, Park Jimin is handsome. And ripped. Fuck, he’s really bulging with muscles with every step he takes; your strength kink is quaking. You are staring but your gaze is also jumping around his entire body because you really don’t know where to look – there’s so much to take in between the clenching planes of his abdomen, the heaving pair of his pectorals, the thick pads of his shoulders and those thighs that seem to want to tear through his pants. 
There is jewelry on him, identical to yours with regards to its make. But contrary to the single thick chain that’s adorning your cleavage, he’s got two shorter, choker-like necklaces as well, sitting prettily on his sharp collarbones. He’s also wearing earrings, which you didn’t have to because they were covering your ears with hair.
You’re so lost in sharpening your focus, that you barely even realize he is nearing you. Plump lips thin out around a straight line of teeth and hooded eyes squint in humor. 
His smirk is devastating. You’re down bad, you’re down fucking bad. 
How to ask him to fuck your throat without offending him? You don’t really care because you’re about to be very crude about it. You might get thrown off the set and kicked out of the project, but you’re willing to risk it all by going tongue-emoji eggplant-emoji on him. Shit, is he emanating pheromones? Are y’all werewolves? What is going on, why do you keep getting this urge to climb him up and rub your body all over his? You…are in love with this man. That’s the only logical explanation. Or maybe it’s your pussy that’s in love with him, but because she pretty much represents you right now, it is nothing but undying love you feel flowing from you to him.
“Hey—”
“My pussy’s in love with you.”
Jimin’s eyebrows lift up high and higher until they reach a point where they’d be off his forehead if he was a cartoon character. 
And you get it. That was too direct. And too soon. You could’ve at least waited for the dude to finish his damn greeting. 
“Uh…” His eyelids flutter rapidly over rounded eyes, and fuck, how does he look adorable on top of being sex-on-legs? Quickly looking around the two of you, he sidles a few inches closer and lowers his stunned – and stunning – face to your eye-level. “Come again?”
Oh, you will. You surely will come again but you need to come for the first time before that. And you need to introduce yourself to him like a normal human before that.
“I mean, hello, Jimin. It is nice to meet you.” You try to put on a smile as you give him your name. Your eyes glide down his throat to land on his pecs again. A wistful sigh makes it past your lips. “You’ve got nice tiddies.”
And this is when Jimin finally snaps out of his reverie to cough out a bewildered laugh. Soon after, his face is morphing back into the panty-melting smirk you saw him wear earlier and he’s laughing with his whole body, allowing his shoulders to jump and head to shake.
His laughter is kinda cute.
You still wanna climb him, though.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he finally says to you, his words more of a wondrous exhale than actual speech. “Thank you for the compliment. Although they’re more than just nice, won’t you say?”
Your back meeting a cold metal has you hissing, and you blink in surprise at the realization of how easily he walked you back towards his trailer without you realizing. His tiddies distracted you.
“True.” You nod, tilting your chin up to fight back a shiver when your bare back meets icy cold metal once again. “They’re sort of amazing.”
Jimin’s grin turns filthy, gaze wholly unabashed as it scans your own chest. You know your nipples are pebbled because you can feel goosebumps running across your entire body. He lifts a ringed hand and very carefully places the tip of his index finger in the hollow of your neck. Dark gaze catches yours again as the digit begins a fiery journey down your sternum, running past the chain resting there, and easily fitting between the tight cleavage of your half naked boobs.
A deep gasp leaves your chest, body arching to invite further invasion from him. And he complies, bringing his thumb up to softly rub it over the skin of your exposed boob, between the edge of the scrap of crochet that’s holding it in place, and the metallic jewelry advertised over it.
"Yours, too," he mumbles suddenly, eyes glued to the tip of your breast protruding against the thick fabric of the bra.
For a second, you're lost. Because how are you supposed to keep track of your conversation when the entire set around you has faded away and all you can see, breathe and feel is Park Jimin?
But then it suddenly registers that you'd complimented his…well, tiddies, which means that he's now complimenting yours. Oh, wow. Is this supposed to flatter you? Turn you on? Or make you wanna laugh? Somehow, it's doing all three.
Coughing through a snort, you bite down on your bottom lip and shake your head. “Just amazing? I expected a higher praise.”
“Oh yeah?” Jimin's gaze comes flying up to clash with yours, mirth swimming in his brown eyes. “But I haven’t seen them naked like you did mine. This is the best you get on these unfair grounds, baby.”
Fuck, fuck, you don’t breathe for a whole lot of seconds after that. 
Wide-eyed, you trace the way Jimin’s tongue peeks out of his mouth to scrape against his bottom lip. It’s wet and soft and so red, you wanna taste it. Breathless and delirious, you’re tilting your head and inching towards him when – his other hand comes up to cup one of your tits, placed firmly against the globe in such a way that his thumb makes an easy swipe of your hard nipple.
“Ah!”
His lips quirk up at your gasp and he erases a few more inches of distance between you two, this time nearly molding your soft curves against his solid planes.
“I would very much like to, though,” he murmurs so close to your lips, you can almost taste his breath. It is chocolate flavored. “If you’d allow it?”
As if his smirk wasn’t fucking distracting in itself, his thumb’s relentless back anf forth motions over your nipple is wiping all thoughts out of your head. Oh, God. This guy is sexually hypnotising you. Next thing anyone knows, you’ll be on your knees, ready to suck him off in public. 
In…public.
Public!
Snapping out of the daze Jimin put you in, you peek around his broad body. To your relief, everyone is still running around like headless chickens and no one is so much as looking in the direction of the two of you.
Still. You might be horny enough to let go of a shoot in favor of bomb sex with the sexiest guy you’ve ever seen. But you’re not horny enough to be sex-taped by an entire studio full of people.
“Not here, of course,” he reassures you in the same low, husky voice he’s been using all this time. 
Either he read the horror on your face, or he can read minds. Maybe you’re right about Jimin’s hypnotic abilities. Wow, is this why people keep falling into his bed left and right? Ooh, or maybe he just has a strong dick game. Well. You can’t wait to find out.
“I…” You clear your throat, suddenly a bit conscious about both his hands using your boobs as stress balls out in the open where anyone can see you. You’re still destroying your bikini bottoms with warm arousal, but your brain is slowly catching up on how crazy your life will get if you made an accidental soft porn sex tape with Park Jimin in the middle of a shoot. “I’ll meet you…here? After the shoot?”
Jimin looks at you with amusement infused incredulity. “After the…” He sighs, shaking his head with a fond smile. His hands come up to cup your cheeks. “Sweetheart. There’s no afters in my life. I’m offering you my dick now – as a one time offer. It’s not a bookmark now and read later scheme, okay? So either you say yes, we slip into my trailer and I see how much your pussy actually loves me. Or you say no, we finish the shoot and forget this interaction ever happened.” He removes his hands from your face and crosses them across his beefy body, while one of his eyebrows shoots up in question. “Which will it be?”
Your jaw is currently on the floor. This guy is dangerous. He literally propositions sex as if he’s making a business deal! 
You want him.
Instead of saying it, you try to show it – grabbing the lapels of his jacket and allowing a smirk to curl upon your lips. “Yes.”
His eyes sparkle with excitement and dark promises and teeth dig into his bottom lip. “Jeremy!” he suddenly calls for your Director, and for a moment you fear he trapped you into a seductive conversation to have you kicked off set on grounds of sexual harrassment, until – he continues with a, “Take a break, my dude! I’ll be back in a while!”
Some shuffling, rustling and grumbling echoes around you. Jimin never breaks eye-contact even as he punches the code to unlock his trailer right next to your head. His gaze is so fucking intense, he makes you wetter just by looking at you.
“R–right, Mister Park! Do… do we arrange for… spares?” comes a scream back in your direction.
“You know it, Jer.” Jimin grins and you frown in confusion.
“Spares?”
“Our outfits.”
Oh. Oh. Park Jimin really is an A-lister, huh?
You don’t get to think much on it when he unlocks and pulls the door to his trailer open and guides you in, walking you backwards up the stairs while he locks you two in. A gust of air-conditioned air washes over you when you reach the floor, sending a shiver through your entire body. But because Jimin hasn’t stopped walking, you move further until the backs of your legs knock against what feels like a chair. Knees buckling, you fall into a cushy chair and thickly swallow at the daunting sight of Jimin standing over you. You’re almost at the level of his crotch. Perfect.
But before you can even get your hands to move from their clutching of the armrest, Jimin drops to his knees and lines his face up with your boobs. Oh. Yeah, this works too. This is what he was focussed on, anyways.
“May I?” you teasingly question, looping a thumb beneath one of the straps at your shoulder.
Jimin looks at you in faux disappointment. “That color looks amazing against your skin, sweetheart. Feels like a crime to take it off.”
You blink in confusion because, um. What else are you supposed to be doing, then?
The man before you answers your unasked question with his own hands, reaching towards the cups of your bikini top to pinch the edge of each between an index finger and thumb, and pulling the cloth away from your skin. 
His eyes look into yours. “This okay?”
You’re about to splinter the wood of the fucking armrest with how much sexual tension has accumulated in your body because of his ass, and he has the audacity to still ask? Like. He’s obviously asking for your consent and it is sexy as fuck. But it’s also inconvenient as fuck because he isn’t hurrying up the way you need him to!
Nodding as quickly and rapidly as you can manage, you exhale a breathy ‘yes’ along with it, just in case he’s one of those guys who are anal about “verbal consent.” You quite possibly are an embarrassment to feminists and healthy sex advocates that keep preaching “communication during sex with your partner” and all that jazz, but – you’re a very basic bitch, right now. Tongue-emoji eggplant-emoji. 
Why’s he being so artistic about it?
“Good.”
And then finally, finally, the crochet is tugged away from your breasts and your twin globes spring free, literally tumbling into Jimin’s face as he eagerly leans closer. His nose presses against one of your hardened nipples, and you watch the brown in his irises bleed into black within a moment. 
Both his palms nearly scramble to lift the weight of your tits in them, fingers squeezing into the soft flesh, the intensity of which increases the louder you moan. The pads of his thumbs flick at your nipples a couple of times, until your back arches and head is tossed back. That is when Jimin releases one of your boobs to cup the back of your neck and pull your gaze back to his. The tip of his thumb scrapes around your sensitive areola, all the while his fiery gaze stares into your soul.
And then, to run your sanity completely off the track, he lowers his face to the neglected mound and, slowly releasing the back of your neck, brings his other hand to cup the curve of your breast. His dark gaze never leaves yours when his lips make contact with your nipple, but yours leaves his when he envelops the nub into the warmth of his mouth as you clench your eyes shut and cry out.
“Mm hm,” he hums around your flesh and runs his tongue across the hard peak as if he’s licking up ice-cream. “You like it, baby?”
“L–love it, Jimin…”
Humming again, he gets to work, sucking on your boob with all his might. His other hand resumes work at the same time, massaging the other tit while his thumb presses against the nipple and twirls it around in an agonizingly pleasurable motion. His teeth make no delays in joining in on the torture, brushing over your skin slowly, and then when Jimin opens his mouth wider to wrap his tongue around the entirety of your bud, they press into the flesh just above your areola.
“Fuck fuuu~k!” 
You can barely formulate any coherent thought at this point, Jimin’s occasional grunts barely registering with you, especially after he changes sides and lets his tongue lap at the other nipple he’d been abusing with his thumb.
“Jim—in,” you whine, twisting up in your place – whether to escape the torturous fire in the pit of your belly or to delve further in it? You have no fucking idea. “Please… please…”
The guy responds by engulfing as much of your boob as he can in his mouth. You scream his name this time, and he responds with a deep grunt, placing both his hands on your waist as if to ground himself. Well, he’s grounding you too, because your head is among fucking clouds.
Sounds of wet, sloppy kisses fill the space around you, making it extremely difficult for you to open your eyes. But this is the opportunity of a lifetime, so you fight against the brain-melting pleasure to pry your eyelids apart – and take in the sight of Park Jimin's mouth working on your breast. His eyes are shut and brows are scrunched up in concentration. The graze of his plump, reddened lips against your skin is the most erotic sight you have ever seen in your entire life.
One of Jimin's hand journeys down past your hip to grip onto your thigh, while the other travels up to wrap around the back of your shoulder. He pulls his mouth off you with a wet plop, giving you barely any time to react to the shivers that his warm breath against your nipple sends through you, before he is smacking open mouthed kisses up your chest, tongue running over your collarbones, until he buries his face in your nape.
Your own hands shakily move from the chair's wood that you've definitely made a dent in, to brush through his hair and glide down his back. He still has his fucking jacket on, which annoys you but also makes you moan against his shoulder because he's gonna be coated in sweat and you'll get to lick it off his body.
"Hold on tight," Jimin suddenly mumbles into your neck.
And just as you've clutched one of your hands in his jacket and wrapped the other around his neck, one of his own folds a leg of yours around his waist and the other pushes against your back to heave you off of the chair. You're barely in the air for three seconds before he presses you against the wall of the trailer, fingers digging into your thigh and nails raking a path up to the ties of your bikini bottom. When he gets there, he slips past it to grab at your ass, though, not once detaching from where he's sucking at the skin of your neck. 
"You're so fucking thick," he groans against you before pulling back to stare at you with lidded eyes. "And so fucking soft, baby."
To emphasize, his hand obscenely squeezes at your ass cheek. You jump a little, immediately whining when he chuckles at your reaction. Pulling him closer by the hand you still have around his neck, you press your crotch up against his and grind, making him hiss at the friction.
"And you're so fucking hard," you tell him in the same wonderstruck voice he used, "baby."
Not allowing him much time to react, you spin the two of you around so that he’s the one pressed up against the wall. He looks surprised but you don’t miss the jump in his throat. And now. You lean away and admire Park Jimin in all his sweaty, sexy glory. Droplets run down the line of his slender throat, settling into the hollow above his collarbones. Some escape and hang on like precious gems from his nipples. Others, the quickest of all, race down the ridges of his tight abdomen.
It is your personal mission to collect every single one on your tongue.
Pressing your bare tits up against his damp chest and ignoring the cold from his jewelry, you fuse your lips to his neck, slowly running your tongue down the corded muscles there. Jimin’s hands hold your waist, fingers digging hard every time your teeth meet his skin, in time with the whiny breaths that escape his throat. You take your sweet time lapping up the salty liquid gathered around his collarbones, relishing the flavor of his skin at every inch you cover. The two chains that fall across his clavicle get in your way, and so you shift them away with your lips to press kisses to the skin beneath them quickly, before you move downwards.
Pushing the edges of his jacket away to shove it off of his body, you swipe your tongue across both his nipples, one by one, and then follow the rivulets of sweat down his abs. At one point, you seal your lips over tight muscle and suck like a starved bitch.
“Fuck, baby, love that…”
Oh, does he? You’re gonna bite your way through his abs.
Sitting on your haunches and eventually kneeling between his legs, the smoothest course of action to take from here is focusing on the straining length right in front of your face. One of his hands is braced on your shoulder, while the other rests softly atop your head.
You look up to find his lips parted and chest heaving. Delicious. And then you pull down his pants and then his boxers in quick succession. His dick is thick, long and leaking precum. Fucking delicious.
Wrapping your lips around the angry tip, you don’t need any prompting from Jimin to swallow this gorgeous, curvy length. He meets the back of your throat with ease, massive fucker, and his fingers immediately clench in your hair.
“Like that – just like that!”
You suck on him like your life depends on it, working your mouth up and down his girth, tongue massaging the velvety skin. Jimin tries to help by guiding your head with a hand, but he’s mostly too busy groaning your name in the sexiest of tones you’ve heard him use. The sounds have the pool of arousal in your panties growing at a continuous rate. Your hands take support from his sculpted thighs, and despite the entirety of your brain being driven to worship Jimin’s dick, the firmness of the muscle in his legs still manages to register with you. 
Is this guy all muscle on bone? Given the amount of muscles you can see, he’s gotta be really fucking strong. Fuck, you just got wetter.
You go deeper, this time actually swallowing when his head is lodged in your throat, and Jimin breaks into curses.
“I’m gonna—fuck, fuck, I’m gonna fucking come—”
You grant him the littlest of refuge by decreasing the depth of penetration, but your tongue still works on him tirelessly, until you feel the guy trembling against you. That is when you bring one of your hands up to cup his balls, softly massaging the tight sacs. 
“Ahh—I – fuck, fuck, fuck – b–b–baby, plea—ah! I’m—I’m gonna—”
Biting back whimpers of pleasure that rise up your throat at the desperate mess of broken moans escaping Jimin, you pull a little away and relax your throat to push him into the constricted depth again. And you move your head on him like a maniac, having him fuck your throat because you need it as much as he does. You need him to come like this – you need his thick release flooding your mouth, rolling down your throat. You need to fucking choke on his cum the way you’re choking on his cock. You need to swallow every single drop of it.
Another knead of his balls, and Jimin is hissing your name, his body stiffened but his cock pulsing. And one – two seconds later, spurts shoot out of his length, both his hands on your head to control the force of the jerks he makes against your face. 
He doesn’t know you don’t fucking care that your nose is pressed against his pelvis because your throat is busy working the thick load of his release down its channel so that nothing leaks out of your mouth. It’s a difficult feat to achieve given how much he’s spilled, but you’re euphoric cleaning it all up.
So euphoric, in fact, that you don’t really notice when he pulls you up into a standing position and takes your lips in a messy kiss. It’s only when Jimin tangles his tongue with yours with a groan that you realize the fact that the first time you kiss those dreamy lips is with his cum coating your tongue. But if he doesn’t mind, neither do you.
But you do need to catch your breath, so you’re the first to pull away. Jimin looks at you with actual hearts in his eyes. You grin at him.
“Best suck of your life, or what?”
Rolling his eyes, he pushes you onto the bed right behind you. You fall back, spread eagle, and he climbs up your body like a predator. But his eyes hold a distinct look that you can’t place. Is this afterglow? Or was this really the best suck of his life?
“Dude.” You nudge him when he’s straddling your thighs and stroking your stomach with his tongue trapped between his teeth. “Don’t fall in love with me.”
“Too late. My dick’s already in love with you.”
Warmth floods your cheeks, at both the compliment and the callback to the first ever sentence you said to him. It still holds true, though, so you don’t protest, not even when he smirks at you.
Jimin then picks up the chain lying haphazardly across your breasts to press it against one of your nipples. And then wrap it around the nub. When you gasp in pleasure spiked pain, he pulls the jewelry away and gives the nipple a comforting suck. You hold onto his hair with a hand, the other reaching up to clutch the sheets. At the same time, he works on untying your bottoms.
The moment the crochet falls off, Jimin descends your body, pressing hot kisses down your stomach. And then he’s licking a stripe down your clean shaven mound, to slip across your clit.
“Fuck! Jimin!”
“You’re so fucking wet, what the fuck…” He groans aloud, two fingers pulling your pussy lips apart. Your breath catches at the sight of him gazing so obscenely at your wet center. “Such a tiny pussy…and it’s fucking coated with your slick, baby…”
That is the last of his audible words before his lips latch on, tongue gliding past your entrance. Your back arches clean off the bed with that first stroke, rounded lips open on a silent scream. 
“You like that?”
“Fucking love it, Jimin…”
He’s chuckling against your thigh, nose nudging at the soft skin, before his mouth is back to your folds, pillowy lips making their way through the slick skin to press a suckling kiss to your clit.
“Oh, right there!”
Jimin flicks his tongue against the nub at your gasp. “Here?”
And he’s totally messing with you now, because before you can respond, his tongue slips past your slit again, satiny soft warmth against your labia that turns into cold stiffness when it’s inside your heated channel. Then he quickly pulls out and plants a light, closed mouth kiss to the hole he just exited.
“Or here?” 
A gurgle rises up your chest at the tease, and unintelligible words tumble out of your mouth.
“Ah, what’s that, baby?” he breathes against your wetness, voice loaded with humor.
“Every… everywhere,” you manage to heave out between your tumultuous breathing.
“Fuck,” comes a hiss from him, and a hand tweaks one of your nipples while the other rearranges your body to push you further up on the bed.
Trembles run through your legs when Jimin’s hands brace against the underside of your thighs to push them apart. He delves in with teeth this time, nipping at your turgid bundle of nerves before he pushes his blunt front teeth up against its hood to allow his tongue complete, unobstructed access to wrap around your clit. And you sob, breathless and shaking, your mind a blank slate, at the precipice of exploding with blinding pleasure.
Jimin shifts his focus, then, running his teeth past your clit and making you shriek in surprised pleasure as if it's nothing, and pushes his tongue in you again. This time, he is rough and strong, plunging deep into your heat with that long tongue of his, and licking up your juices from inside of you. The motion sends your mind spiraling through a frenzy, which combined with the rhythmic bumping of his plump upper lip against your clit, has you at the brink of your release in no time.
Whimpering, you reach out to fist a hand in the tuft of his thick hair, and brace the other one on the forearm he has wrapped around your thigh. You blink down at him through crusty, wet eyelashes, moaning loudly at the lewd sight of his head pressed up between your legs. Alerted by your touch and sounds, his eyes flutter up, meeting yours across the span of your body, through the valley of your breasts. They house molten desire, thick and swirly, and all you can do is shudder uncontrollably when that gaze pushes you off the cliff.
“F–f–fuck, I’m coming, I’m—oh fuck!”
The walls of your pussy clamp down on his tongue, convulsing as they push out your juices all over his mouth, while your entire body breaks into gooseflesh, warm spasms wrecking you from head to toe under the weight of the climax that crashes into you.
Jimin licks you clean through it, and by the time you’ve stopped shaking and can recollect your brain which feels as if it has been spilled all over the place, he’s kissing his way up your body. Tongue licking a line across your lower tummy, he sucks a bruise into your waist.
“J–Jimin,” you call for him, weak and desperate, but with no idea about what you want from him.
He responds by biting into the flesh right beneath your belly-button. “I got you, baby…”
Does he? He probably knows what you want.
Slowly crawling up to hover above you on his hands and knees, Jimin entire focus is on the chain that dangles from his neck and drags up your abdomen, the small cold spherical metallic pendant cutting a line of goosebumps across your sternum, to rest snugly in your collarbones. But Jimin isn’t satisfied with that, so he moves himself a couple inches lower, rolling the metal ball down your body and running it up the slope of one of your breasts to rest it next to the bunched up bikini top he's got tucked beneath your boobs.
"Nah, this needs to go," he suddenly muses out loud, grabbing at the fabric along with your chain that’s entwined with it, and pulling them above your boobs, prompting you to raise your arms as he rolls the material away from your head.
Just as the fabric and chain combination touches your wrists, though, he stops. Tilts his head to a side to observe it, squinting at your wrists with a dark gaze, and then he does something that tightens the cloth and metal over your wrists. 
Oh. You're – oh. He's tied your hands together. They now rest against the wall above the pillow on his bed, and damn, it shouldn't be as arousing as it is. But the intensity of Jimin's stare when he scans your naked body from top to bottom has your breath catching and mouth drying up.
"Such a beautiful, beautiful body," he slowly whispers, his words condensing in the heated space between you two. One of his hands reaches up to paw at your boob, while the other grabs at the flesh on your hip. "So fucking responsive," he hisses when your nipple hardens within seconds, and swoops down to lick a wet strip across it. 
You shiver, proving his words, and blink up at him in anticipation. You must’ve released nothing short of a lake of wetness on his covers at this point, and every little ministration from him is just turning it into a sea.
Removing the hand on your hip to relocate it between your legs, Jimin brushes his finger lightly through your swollen folds. His gaze stays steady on yours, while your eyes roll into the back of your head.
"Look at all these juices this sweet pussy keeps leaking," he sighs, bringing his hand up to show you his glistening digits that you are able to focus on with much difficulty. "Soaking my fingers when I haven't even entered you yet, baby?"
He pops them into his mouth, shutting his eyes to clean them up with a lewd slurp. Then his lids part again, heavier than before, and his fingers return to your center.
"This is the pussy that's in love with me, huh?"
Surprised at the question – more like shocked at the realization that he hasn’t let go of this, yet – you gape at him cluelessly. That is all it takes for his hand to clench in a rough squeeze on your boob in punishment.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. You're going to die if this man doesn’t fuck you soon.
"Y–yes, Jimin," you whimper.
"You were so ready to throw yourself at me outside, baby," he mocks you in a sweet voice, quite opposite to the rough thrust his fingers make inside of you at the same time. "My pretty little slut… Would’ve let me fuck her out there if I wanted… Ready to let me strip and bend her over in public because she was dripping, huh? Such a pretty little slut…”
His fingers smash against your g-spot at a bruising pace, cleansing your mind of all thoughts that don’t comprise the pressure building your abdomen, Jimin’s dark eyes and his clenched jaw. 
Tunnel visioned and unilateral minded, you do not catch the context of his next question at all: "Aren’t you?"
Your body jumps with each rough push of his index and middle finger inside of you, and your brain refuses to cooperate.
Jimin’s hand on your boob jostles you, eyebrows furrowing as if in anger, but then he clarifies, "Tell me you're my pretty little slut.”
"I–I–I’m your… your lih–little s–s–s–slut!" you struggle to formulate, brainlessly parroting his words while your eyes seal shut and tears accumulate at the corners.
"Pretty!" he admonishes, reminding you of the word you missed by twisting your nipple.
You jump, whimpering in pain but moaning in pleasure because Jimin’s warm mouth is right there to lick the sting away from the sensitive bud. Roughly swallowing past your dry throat, you frown to focus on the instructions given to you, and try again.
"P–pretty… pretty little slu–slut!"
"Whose pretty little slut?"
Oh that you do know. "Yours! Jimin's!"
"Look at you, fuck.” Jimin groans and you hear some rustling before he’s hovering over you, a hand braced next to your head, his bulging bicep next to your face and his lips skimming up your jaw. “Do you wanna come, baby?”
"Yes! Please, Jimin! Please make me come!” 
His nose nudges against yours before his tongue licks at your lower lip. “You want it that bad? What will you do for it?”
You seriously do not have any braincells left to come up with crazy promises, so you settle on, “Anything!”
“Oh? Is that so? You’d do anything to come for me?"
And you’re just nodding, accepting his kisses despite the burn in your lungs, literally risking it all to just have this knot behind your belly-button explode into a mind-blowing release.
“Should I open the doors? Invite the entire set to watch what a filthy whore we have here, hm?”
You have never in your life considered yourself to be an exhibtionist in any capacity, and so his words make your eyes flutter open in confusion. But – what confuses you more, is the sudden clench your pussy gives at the prospect, making both yours and Jimin’s eyes widen. You tug at your restraints when he grins, shaking your head to clarify that you’re not actually a whore, this is probably just an ego thing because being pressed between Park Jimin and his bed is an honor. 
But just then, he is pulling his fingers out of you with a loud squelch, leaving you shrieking, gasping, stunned – bereft. “Jimin! What—I was so clo—mmph!”
His wet fingers shut you up, sliding through your lips to settle on your tongue. Then he raises an eyebrow. “Whores don’t get to come, baby. Only good girls do.”
You try to speak with his fingers literally in your mouth and a garbled bunch of nothing comes out. Jimin chuckles.
“What? You’re a good girl, now?”
You nod your head, wide-eyed and empty-lunged. 
“Oh, sweetheart.” He presses a messy kiss to the underside of your jaw, smiling so wide, his eyes squint. “A good girl cleans up after her. You wanna be a good girl?”
Eyes rounded further, you nod harder.
“Lick my fingers clean.”
With a gusty inhale through your nose, you lick over and around his digits. Spit dribbles down the side of your mouth, but neither you nor Jimin care, your gazes trained on each other. His own mouth parts after a while, tongue resting at one corner as he slowly extracts his now clean fingers. Wow, you did a good job.
Smacking your lips, you puff up your chest and flash him a smile. But the action presses your breasts up against his chest, and Jimin snaps. Shuffling around the drawer next to the bed for a foil packet, he’s quickly covering his stiff cock in rubber. He’s so fucking hard again, you’re in love with his dick.
And then he has your thighs spread and fitted around his waist, while his strong hands press into your forearms to keep them in place above your head, and – fuck. 
His necklace is dangling between the two of you.
Swinging daintily, seductively, from his body to yours, the pendant skims your heated, sweat soaked tits with its cold, smooth surface. And Jimin watches that movement in transfixation.
“Jimin…”
“Hmm?”
“Need you to fuck me…”
His gaze slowly rises to yours, lips twisted and eyebrows lowered. “Do you, baby?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a good girl now?”
You nod vigorously. “Very good girl, Jimin.”
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “Mm hm. We’ll see how good you actually are, sweetheart…” Lining himself up with a hand, he begins to push inside of you. “Tell me if it hurts.”
Catching the serious look on his face, you give a quick nod. He’s an attentive lover and it’s amazing of him to be so aware because he’s fucking huge down there. But. Right now, you think it will hurt you more if he doesn’t enter you.
Gradually inching in until his thick length is all the way in you, he moves one hand to hold onto your makeshift handcuff, while he braces the other on your ribcage, beneath your boob. And fuck, he fills you up so good. 
After he’s made one – two – three experimentive, light thrusts, he picks up pace. And then he fucking rocks your world, going hard as hell to pound against that one sensitive spot withing your channel that is normally elusive to your lovers, but this man apparently has a superpower of locating with every appendage of his. 
Sweat builds, collects and then drips down his body, as it does yours, and the entirety of the trailer seems to shake a little – but the way Jimin’s necklace dangles between you two occupies all of your focus. You stare at the strangely seductive sight, mesmerized, until the pressure in your pelvis builds again and forces you to shut your eyes.
“Ah, what’s this?” Jimin pants into your ear, flicking his tongue over the earlobe. “Are you close already?”
That sounds like a trick question, but you can’t really lie when he is literally inside of you and can feel your walls tightening. “Yes…”
“That doesn’t sound like a good girl to me, baby… Didn’t you say you were a very good girl?” He clicks his tongue, brushing his lips over yours to breathe out, “You gotta wait for me, sweetheart. Good girls wait.”
The promise of praise has your entire body locking in itself to contain the surges of pleasure from flowing to the last of your nerve endings, but it's hard. Because the way Jimin is leaning over your body makes his hips meet yours such that they press up against your clit with every stroke. 
You give up and sob, bleary eyes opening to look at Jimin’s concentrated face. “I’m very—ah! V–very close, Jimin… C–ca–can’t—”
“You can’t hold it?” he snarls, expressions morphing into one of determination. “Whores don’t get to come, remember?”
And you predict it before he even makes the move, so you dig your heels into the plump cushions of his ass, keeping him from pulling out, with a whine of, “No~o! No, please, I’ll – I’ll hold it! Promise! Just – just don’t fucking stop, Jimin!”
He nibbles on his bottom lip, forehead in a crease as he looks at you, movements slowed down but not stopped. “I really don’t wanna stop, baby,” he tells you with a pout, grabbing your jaw with his fingers digging in on one side and thumb on the other. “So you better not fucking come.” With gritted teeth, he lifts your hips off the bed and fucks you harder. “Ah shit! Look at how good you take it, fuck… Tight fucking pussy – so sweet!” 
He then buries his face in your boobs, licking up and around the globes, while you clench your eyes as tightly shut as you can, gritting your teeth to stop the fire from spreading through your body. 
After one particularly hard thrust that seems to reach your womb, though, you’re at the verge of breaking. You will either explode in an orgasm or fucking die of depravation. And so you shake your head, sobbing so hard, your tears spill on to Jimin’s hair.
“I–I–I can’t, Jimin, I really really really—please let me c–c–c–come! Please please ple~ase, Jimin—”
“Fuck, baby,” he moans against your nipple, lifting his head to look at you through troubled eyes. “You’re fucking killing me with that begging—so fucking delectable!”
You’re still blinking in bewilderment when he reaches up to pull your lips in a kiss. Teeth biting into your lip and tongue licking against yours, he pulls back within just seconds and tips his forehead against yours.
And then, in a soft whisper that feels more intimate and softer than anything you’ve shared with him so far, Jimin tells you, “Come for me, my good girl.”
Your pussy gets the message before your ears do, and it clamps down hard on his dick – making Jimin gasp with his puffy lips perfectly rounded and wide eyes looking into yours. It loosens that grip just the next moment, though, delving into a series of convulsions that churn out Jimin’s impending orgasm out of him, too. Your eyes close at some point, too lost to the electricity flowing through your veins and the explosions happening in every corner of your head. With your legs still locked around him, you both shudder through your orgasms together, twitching and whimpering for a while after the waves have rolled over and ceased.
Catching your breath is harder than you thought, and opening your eyes is something you don’t even wanna do. Jimin pulls out from you with a muted curse and you feel him leave you alone on the bed. Then, too, you keep your eyes shut, drained out of energy.
But you do open them eventually when you feel his hands untangling yours from the confines of crochet and metal. And it’s embarrassing how the sight of his naked chest, inches from you, sends a spasm through your body again– when you’ve just had your world knocked off its axis by the force of the orgasm he gave you.
“There,” Jimin tells you in a rasp, sounding fully fucked out, but just as delicious as before. “Your hands feel okay?”
You pull them down, wincing a bit at the tug in your elbow, but then nod. “Yeah, they’re okay. Thanks.”
Jimin sits back with a smirk, holding your bikini top in one hand and the jewelry you wore for the commercial in the other.
Oh, shit the commercial. 
You quickly sit up in horror, bracing a hand against your head when it spins. “Jimin, the shoot! We – we ruined our outfits… and the product…”
He offers you a bottle of water, chuckling. “Which is nothing to worry about at all. These are just samples,” he clarifies, raising the hand with your chain in it, “and I already told Jeremy to arrange for spare outfits.”
You take a few sips of water and look at Jimin in awe. You’re very tempted to ask him how regularly he does this. “You prepare for everything, huh? Impressive.”
Tossing your clothes and jewelry aside, he runs a hand through his hair – a sinfully sexy gesture that makes you sigh – and wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Almost everything. I never could’ve prepared for the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on telling me her pussy is in love with me.”
Hissing a breath out, you narrow your eyes and punch his firm bicep. Jimin just giggles and rolls away to the foot of the bed to duck. “You’re the worst, you know!”
“Ah ah – that’s not what your pussy was saying a few minutes ago!”
He’s standing up, now, correcting his pants, and you look around for something to cover yourself up. A purple hoodie lands next to you. You look at Jimin with your eyebrows raised in alarm.
“Relax, I’m not tryna be couple-y.” He rolls his eyes with a scoff. And then smiles. “Wear this until they get you a change of clothes. You look like you came here in a cab and not a trailer.”
You nod, a little bashful and a lot grateful, but very careful about your boundaries. This has been the best fuck of your life – but Jimin is still an A-lister, serial-fucking his way through the industry. 
It’d be kinda nice to be friends with him, though.
“You know for what it’s worth,” Jimin says after you’re done settling into the piece of clothing he loaned you, “I’m in love with your pussy, too.”
Nope, it won’t be nice being friends with him, at all.
Your affronted gasp echoes around the space, immediately followed by loud giggles that belong to Jimin. You toss a bottle at his head – but you’re laughing, too.
Maybe you’ll send Hoseok an actual gift basket, after this.
Damn, what a day.
Tumblr media
© jimilter | 2022
links to be added later!
3K notes · View notes
kth1fics · 9 months
Text
Safe Haven (M) | PJM
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Safe Haven
⟶ Pairing: Park Jimin x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: royalty, smut, 18+ ⟶ Tropes: forbidden love au, medieval royal au, royal king’s guard werewolf!jimin ⟶ WC: 16.2k+ ⟶ Warnings: mild birth scene mention (hardly any details!), mentions of d*ath, brief fighting/attacking descriptions, blood mentions, hair pulling (when attacked), weapons mentioned, poison/venom mention, random side character d*aths, soft pining, kisses, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex, etc ⟶ Beta: Sarah bean! @caelesjjk ⟶ Summary: When a wolf protects the royal family for many years, he’s faced with one special princess who he’ll do anything for. ⟶ Author’s Note: Apart of the “To Love a Monster” collab! I took a long while to get this fic out – and I am sorry for those who have been waiting for it. It may take me months to write and readers minutes to read, but I do hope that this fic holds a special place in someone’s heart in the end! Please enjoy & leave some feedback if you have the time! ⟶ Song Recommendation: Bound to You by Christina Aguilera
Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi 
Tumblr media
Freshly welcomed into the King’s Guard, Jimin, a sprouting young wolf, rushes around the corridors of the castle to obey the barking orders of his higher-ups. Making haste, all servants and guards make their purpose of assisting the Queen.
“Hurry!” Hoseok, another royal guard and close friend to Jimin, shuffles through the utility room. “Gather more cloth!”
“Aren’t people usually more prepared with things like this?” Jimin frantically follows, his voice rushed with the fast pace movements. 
“I’m afraid not,” Hoseok huffs a laugh.
The two younger royal guards speedily ransack each drawer and closet until their arms are full of materials. They stumble back down the hall towards the birthing chamber. A room enclosed for the parties who participate with the anticipated arrival of the next royal kin. A domestic, darkened room provided with the country's softest furnishings. Royal officials and servants are permitted to be within the room for the delivery to ensure that there are no scandals around the birthing practice.
A midwife places herself before the legs of the Queen. A moan of pain rips from her Highness’s throat. Jimin and Hoseok stand idly as the birthing of child number three crowns at the entrance of the world, preparing to gain its first breath of fresh air. The scene is natural for humans, even more common for a royal to carry out in front of an audience.
For Jimin, he prefers not to stare like the others. His polished amber eyes trail to the lines of the floorboards, using any peripheral view for his advantage.
“It’s a girl!” He hears the cries from a newborn baby, the declaration announced by the midwife who’s wiping off residue from the infant.
Placed on the chest of her mother, the newest child of the royals whines freely. The sound rings through the ears who listen. The King is joyous, regardless of being unable to create a proper heir to his throne. But with the first two daughters – and now third, the royal guards know his Highness will move quickly in trying for a son.
Servants flutter about, handling the delicacies of aftercare for childbirth. Jimin follows after his friend, handing off the pile of cloth to a maiden. Bodies move around another like an assembly line. 
For a moment, and only a moment is needed, did Jimin finally take a swift glance at the newborn who screams her upset. He locks eyes with the infant over the shoulder of Hoseok, seeing a warmth of an everlasting hearth as she cries wet droplets down her face.
Then it happened.
Jimin is struck with something that is indescribable. Something that couldn’t be defined. He’s heard through stories and lores within his lineage that this phenomenon could happen to anyone at any time in one's life. He hears about it through those he’s close to and those who experience it. It’s a once in a lifetime deal.
He can feel the shift of his weight when he locks eyes with the newborn baby. As if this new formed motion represents an outstanding astronomical level. Where his world, which once revolved around the Sun as it does for everyone, now revolves around this small, fragile child.
Jimin’s heartbeat thumps in his ears as the world freezes around him. Hoseok and the other royal wolf guards all sense a change in the wind. If it isn’t Hoseok ushering him out of the way of the other servants and departing out of the chamber, he’s sure the royal family would have done it themselves. 
With his head on a silver platter.
Hoseok’s palm slaps the side of Jimin’s cheek to gain his consciousness from whatever daze he’s fumbled in. It takes him a few good taps before Jimin blinks. His blood runs rampant inside him with warmth and excitement.
The second Jimin looked at the third child of the royal household, everything changed within him. All of a sudden, nothing else matters. The yearning of knowing and willing to do anything, be anything, for her is the only constant demand singing at the back of his head.
“You didn’t,” Hoseok’s hushed tone stays low. “Not a royal!”
“How am I supposed to control that?” Jimin stresses. “I can’t choose who this happens to! I didn’t expect this to happen to me!” He runs a hand through his soft hair, exhaling sharply as his mind begins to race.
“You’re going to learn,” Hoseok claims. His eyes are sharp and narrow. “You will learn to control it. A wolf is not allowed to be mixed with a royal. They’ll kill you.”
His imprint will be kept secret from the royals and the precious baby girl. But for his wolf mates, each of them knows the severity of the situation. Not one member will speak of it, they only can respect it. As for Jimin, he’ll spend the rest of her life – your life – being what you need him to be. A friend, a brother, a protector. Whatever you require of him, he will act accordingly in secrecy while obeying his rightful duties to the royal throne.
Tumblr media
White flurries fall slowly from the gray clouds above, decorating the large courtyard, you look down towards the sheet of fresh snow. Most of the garden that blooms the most gorgeous flowers is now a mess of dead plants and weeds. The bare trees stand firm. But those who stand strong in the winter months like hollies with red berries and camellias, continue to stand out next to the beauty of sheared evergreens and deciduous shrubs with colorful stems.
Your eyes are not trained on admiring the bright snow that cascades from the sky so beautifully. Normally you would. As you sit by your glass window with a blanket around your shoulders, you look down from your chambers on the third level of the castle to fancy something different.
Men – some of the royal guards – play around with one another in the cold weather. Some have shifted to their wolven form, others remain in their noble suits. The one you fixate your stare on is your personal guard, Jimin.
He stands leaning against the stone staircase beside a few of his equals. Chatting away about who knows what, watching the others roughhouse. Jimin is quite handsome, he always has been. For as long as you can remember he’s looked the same, minus the fluctuation of hair styles and added tattoos that linger his body and a few added battle scars.
As a guard he wears your family's sigil proudly – a lotus flower – on each of his articles of clothing. Customized into each of the guards’ crested plates of metal armor and sewn into each leather hide. 
Jimin possesses the unfair mix of unlimited masculine and feminine traits, having a soft-looking composure and full lips plus a sharp jawline and toned muscles. His voice is nearly angelic when speaking in hushed tones but also stern as ever when he leads with his strong confidence. He may not be as large as his fellow wolves, but he’s proven himself countless times to your family to have the privilege to be your personal guard. There’s nobody quite like him; no one you’ve met in your life that is.
You commend him in silence, appreciating what you can watch from afar. Even from a distance behind a glass window, he somehow manages to make your heart race. An infatuation some may call it. A yearning. He and your family have been consistent in your life, he’s comfort – as are they. But you knew from a young age, from when you began favoring Jimin’s company over others, that you need to call it ‘nothing’. Because whatever feelings that spin deep inside you are never to be spoken aloud. It’s foolish for your Kingdom, family, and you to long for a wolf who doesn’t see you as anything but a duty.
What’s more disappointing is that you don’t need to admit these infuriating feelings to Jimin, he already knows. He would never allow it to get far by cutting you short and being curt with clipped words and disapproving looks.
He is a wolf and you are a royal. Two beings who have no business intertwining besides with loyalty to the family and the job of a guard. Your acquaintanceship between another is only going to be professional. Perhaps it’s to keep the bloodline pure, untainted. How every sibling of the family is betrothed to a neighboring kingdom, growing the alliance across countries. And not one of them has a blend of wolf’s blood in them. Even though werewolves are evident in the world around you.
“Aren’t you supposed to get ready for the party tonight?” A maid who's making your bed quips up as you're daydreaming down into the evergreen.
“I’ve been stuck on deciding which dress I should wear.”
“No, you’ve been stuck staring out into the courtyard,” she corrects.
You slump in your seat as you stubbornly hold your position by the window. When you look back down, you admire the off-brown and black tones of that particular wolf you fancy. She isn’t wrong, you know. His kind eyes and kind smiles make you feel warmth like no other, and you enjoy seeing them when you gain the chance.
“I can multitask,” you feebly argue. You drag the blanket tighter around your shoulders, keeping in the warmth of your body as much as possible. “Besides, the party isn’t for a few more hours.”
“Princess, you already have guests arriving. Half the guard is at the entrance welcoming the parties who show up early. Let’s not begin to mention how several potential suitors are arriving today. You’ve failed to marry even when betrothed. Such a shame what happened with the Jeon family.”
“I prefer not to be a royal. It doesn’t feel right the way we work,” you sigh as the joyful wolves down below have fun while you’re stuck in your tower with envy. “Can we braid my hair the way we did at my Aunt’s wedding? It cascaded down beautifully.” You speak while staring out of the window, purposely ignoring the heavier topic your maid mentions. “I’ll go with the silver dress. That one that comes with the gorgeous fur shawl.”
You notice the way that Jimin has suddenly turned to look up toward your window, half expecting to see you through the glass. Even in the midst of his comrades, he finds a way to give you an ounce of attention. He shakes his head momentarily, already scolding you without knowing what you’re supposed to be doing. Jimin knows looking for him isn’t on your agenda, you purposely put him there.
“For me to do that,” – you hear the voice of your maid – “I need you to get out of your chair and into your washroom.”
A small frown carves into your face when Jimin circles his finger in the air and directs you to turn around, go back to your business. He knows he’s escorting you tonight at the party, you will see him later. To make his point come across sternly, he disassociates his eye contact – bringing his attention back to his other peers and away from you.
“Princess,” your maid bids you once again.
Reluctant to leave your post at the window, you stand up regardless. You have a long night ahead of you while the castle starts to fill up with guests for your younger brother’s birthday party.
Tumblr media
You can’t be bothered with the chattering staff or the nuisance of guests who flutter around the halls of your family’s castle. Each moment you find open to run away, to a quieter place and away from their eyes, you take it. Swiftly moving left and right until you can find your favorite spots to hide since you were a child. 
One of which happens to be past the hallway of family portraits. If you travel far enough you find yourself at a dead end. With cabinets, paintings, and curtains outlining every inch of the stone walls. Torches are lit to illuminate the surrounding areas, bringing light to the beautiful surroundings.
But little do most know, that behind painting number two – the one in the golden frame with green shrubbery and a little boy playing the flute – lies a secret behind it. You just need to get here without anyone seeing you sneak in. There’s no point in a secret hideout if you accidentally show it to other guests.
You wait for the time, seeing when that end of the hall becomes vacant and people rush toward the call of the buffet lines. The small talk you make with a few distant relatives is only an act, pretending to walk along with them but slipping away when you find your moment to.
Pressing lightly, the nook of a room behind the large painting greets you. It’s closet sized, filled with a few pieces of your past and littered in dust from lack of touch. Tarps are draped over unused furniture; you’re thankful that this hideout is never really used. The painting that acts as a door allows you a small peeping eyehole to look out and judge when you can come out.
The silver dress you picked for tonight's gathering is a smart choice for you; you’re able to sit down comfortably without restriction. You love the look of a free-flowing gown, falling nicely with the way you walk. Patting off a layer of dust from a chair, you’re able to seat yourself as you take an old notebook in your hand.
Small doodles linger on the pages, all drawn by your younger self. You remember each of them, no matter how terrible they may look. It’s how you pass time while hiding in here. The low lighting from the cracks of the portrait gives you most of your light source, and occasionally you will add flame to the candle that rests on the top of the desk beside you.
You scowl at the dried black ink next to the quill pen, the feather beaten up and torn. It’s been years since you’ve last touched it. Maybe browsing through all the pages of your books won’t be so bad as you loiter in your small den.
“Princess Y/n.”
A spark of panic zaps through you like lightning in the sky on a stormy day. Surprised by the voice of none other than Jimin, your personal royal guard. You watch as fingers curl around the edge of the portrait-door and a beautiful, yet stern, face peeks through. His amber eyes catch you as they squint at your mischievous behavior. 
“I knew you would be hiding somewhere.” He comments as he pushes himself through the opening and into the room. Jimin wears the guards festive wear, a beautiful pink etched coat with cream leather hide armor. He’s sure to close the door behind him; he’s more stealthy than you can ever be. “Are you upset?��
“No,” you turn your head back to the book in your hands. The weight of his gaze on you is nearly suffocating. “I simply wanted solitude.”
“You know you are to be returned. They’re calling upon your brother shortly for his ceremony. It’s a big event for him,” his tone is low but he maintains a soft tenor to it. Jimin is far too kind toward you even though he’s meant to be a guard and nothing more. His exterior has toughened over the years, as it should to fill his part. Although, the sweeter half of him sticks out to you and perhaps that’s what you’ve held onto all these years.
“Sadly, I know.” You shut your eyes and sigh heavily, “I’m not quite in the celebratory mood. I would much prefer to be in my chambers.”
“That’s selfish of you.” Jimin’s hand comes to take away your book, placing it on the desk where it belongs. He bends down to level his face with yours. “You should be happy for your brother, he’s of age to carry out duties now. To be what he needs to be. Something you should understand.”
You hear the underlying hint Jimin gives you. He’s softly scolding you, as usual. 
At first you say nothing in response. Downcasting your eyes to your empty hands as you think what can be said to counter him, but you draw nothing.
You’re the third child in the family of four. A role where you feel invisible and forgotten. Always having second bests and hand-me-downs. Once your brother, who is a few years younger than you, sprouted from the womb of your mother – all chances of your favor flew out the window. As a male in this royal world is keen, any daughter is denied the spotlight. But you never craved a place to rule, or to do what a princess must do. Your oldest sister, the most responsible one of all, desires that for herself. You see it in the way she presents herself. Aces every test and diplomacy role she is given.
The second oldest is the fairest, she didn't need to do much to gain the popularity or attention she is given. It comes so unfairly natural to her thanks to the outstanding looks she’s been blessed with. A privilege only few and far between are given. Life for her is as simple as breathing, all she needs to do is point and ask.
Your younger brother is everything that your father waited for. Of course, your father, the King, treats all his children with love and passion. Keeps you sheltered, fed, and protected. However, the moment he received a bouncing baby boy – that tears any favoritism away from you or your sisters. A male has an unfair advantage in the royal family, it’s just how the world is.
“Princess –”
“– I know,” you unwillingly stand up from your chair. Jimin straightens himself as well, taken aback by your swift movement. “I want to retire after his ceremony,” you say curtly.
You take a single step toward the door as your hand reaches out to push against it, Jimin’s hand  grabs your wrist gently, like catching a delicate rose. Softly, he lowers your arm down as he steps before you with a concerned look on his face. His eyes search for signs of distress on your face.
“You’re upset,” he affirms.
“Nothing works in my favor,” you address with a choleric tone. Anger isn’t something you want resting on the surface, but it’s leaking out of the seams of your composure. “Sometimes, I truly despise being a royal daughter.”
You stare at the digits wrapped around your wrist, noticing how Jimin hasn’t let go of you yet. It feels cruel how you wish there was more meaning to the contact. Why can’t he hold you the way you long for him to?
Your eyes meet his with confusion and sadness. The pretty amber color still stands out in the low lighting, they’re beautiful to stare at. But you can’t read what’s going on in his mind. 
Jimin feels your sadness. He is connected to you deeply, little do you know. You can never know. It’s safer this way. Slowly, he releases your wrist letting his fingertips be the last thing that brushes against your skin. He can only comfort you so much without overstepping his boundaries. If he capsizes every time you give him those hopeless eyes, he’ll lose his placement in the guard and lose you indefinitely.
“Please,” he breathes, “We must go.”
Jimin pushes the hatch open steadily, peering out through the eyehole to make sure the coast is clear to sneak back into the festivities. He leaves space between the two of you as you walk side-by-side.
Silent tension surrounds you as your heels click with every step you take. There’s a dullness in your eyes, a lack of enthusiasm the closer you approach the center of the party. The amount of people here drains you even as you wear a kind smile.
Your little brother’s coronation will go quickly, you hope. Jimin’s words resound in your head, causing you to reflect on what he said.
“That’s selfish of you.”
You make your way to your designated chair at the family table quietly. The talks and commotions between the castle’s guests, family from far and wide, don’t phase you as you blur out the noise. The red liquid poured graciously in a chalice beside you becomes your saving grace; your delicate fingers grasp the cup and run over the smooth jewels embedded on the sides.
Your eyes find Jimin’s across the crowded room as he stands on guard near one of the walls. His hand rests over the handle of his sword casually, a weapon they choose first before shifting as a last resort. He can read the longing in your eyes with a mix of desperation and gloom. 
You wait to see his expected disapproving look. The one that tells you to pay attention to something else other than him – but you don’t. He stuns you confused as, instead of his typical stern look, he looks down at the ground. Deep in thought.
Are you truly selfish when nobody around you is selfless?
Tumblr media
Your chamber is a sanctuary. Filled with all the necessities you need to live like royalty. An abundant amount of candles have been lit to brighten the room, giving it a soft aura. 
You wear your hair down, untied from the tight braids you wore for the majority of the night. Your nightgown, cream in color and silk to the touch, is loose in all the right places. The ceremony took its time as you waited to retire for the night with the little patience you have left. You’re positive plenty of men are still celebrating at their feast. 
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.
A loud thud shakes the doors to your room, a verbal grunt can be heard. You look over at your maid who does the same as she slowly walks toward the noise. There's a scurry of traffic beyond your door as the two of you try to make out the words that are being shouted. You take a step with her, but with that single step you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye. Through the window you see a flash of red light. Smoke rises as pieces of the garden have been lit to flame. Upon closer inspection, you peer down your window into the once beautiful scenery to find brawls of fights. Men fighting enemies with swords, crossbows and guns.
Another thump hits the outside of your chamber’s doors and you twist your head to see your maid inches away from the handle, ready to pull.
“Don’t!” You turn frantic to shout at her.
But it is too late. Your maid already has her hand twisting the handle to pull the door open. But a force pressed the door faster than she anticipated – a body of a man standing guard slumped against the doorframe and now falling to the floor. A wound across his neck as blood smears across your family’s sigil on his leather chest plate.
Both you and your maid screech at the sight as you back away from the door. You can hear the commotion louder now as bodies rush past the halls as they run away from the intruders.
“Hide!” Your maid shoos you quickly and frantically while her first attempt of shutting your chamber’s door fails.
You’re not given a moment to think before you watch as two ruffians walk up to the door, one holding a flamed torch and a hand dagger as the other holds a handgun. They’re dirty from appearance, wearing torn up clothes but come armed with weapons that look like they belong to someone wealthy. They smile evilly, curling their lips at the sight of you as they advance on your maid.
“There’s a royal,” one comments in a ghoulish tone. They step over the body below them like it’s a fallen tree trunk. They laugh among each other, giggling at whatever is playing on in their minds. You definitely do not wish to know.
Your maid twists away, hoisting her skirt up high enough to let her legs lounge as she begins to run toward you. It provokes one of the men, making him chase her immediately as he finds it funny to stalk her. Threaten her with the slices he mimics with his dagger in the air.
Slowly, your feet have backed up along the path of your room. You make sure you keep as much furniture between you and the intruders. Your eyes remain open wide, trying so hard not to blink and miss any sudden movements.
You feel small compared to the man’s stature as he creeps closer and closer to you. Hectically, your hands reach around the tops of dressers and tables to find anything to use as a weapon. A letter opener? A pen? Anything to defend yourself from whoever these men are who impose your safe space.
More screams and shouts can be heard throughout the castle halls and outside. The place is being run down with bandits, unknown persons who you cannot identify from first glance. They wear close to all black attire, worn down from several years. Protected by pads and suitable armor, as if they collected stolen pieces and placed them together.
You hold your arms closer to your body with the heat of the males heavy gaze on you. His eyes look bloodshot as he studies your options of escape.
“Come here little royal,” he sneers while his beaten up boots scuff across the floor.
Your maid is chased across the wall, quickly making her way toward you as the other man follows her like a hunter. Herding his prey together before they set to kill.
They rush the two of you, forcing you to nearly trip over your own feet as your gown betrays you while you step on the very end of it. A small rip of fabric resounds but you’re in too much of a haste to notice from where.
Your maid screams in horror as you yell out for help. Your bodies fumble across the expanse of your chamber’s, trying to find the opportunity to rush out of the door if you can. To escape the men who run after you.
Where are the rest of your guards? What is happening and why are your werewolf guards not attacking? Who are these men and what do they have to attack the castle with? In all your years on this planet, you’ve never been caught in a situation like this. No intruder has ever made it past the front gates until now.
A knife is thrown in your direction, missing you but landing straight into the wall beside your head.
“Oops, guess I need to try that again,” you hear the male speak with malicious intent.
The other has gained enough momentum to grab your maid, pull her in as she struggles to fight him off. He’s rough, holding her arms as he pushes her against the wall. You're already rushing to her side, using your fists to hit the man on his arm and back.
“Get off of her!” you bawl, throwing your fist at him as fast as possible.
A hand grips your hair, yanking you back away from the two and onto the closest table. Your back hits the surface hard as the man presses you down. He threatens you with a dagger pointed at your face as his other hand holds you down by your shoulder.
The brute force immediately makes your eyes water as you stare up at the man in fear. You wrap your hands around his wrists to push him off, holding him off for as long as you can. Your kicks and screams do nothing to phase him, only fuels him.
You feel his hand slide to your throat; latch his ugly, dirty fingers around your neck. It’s brief, like a flash of lightning. But just as soon as he repositions himself, an arrow shoots straight into his head. Visibly shaken, you struggle to process the vicious man above you losing the life he has.
Your efforts of pushing begin to work as his lack of strength weakens by the second. A final push, not made by you – but from your personal guard, Jimin, knocks the man entirely off of you. He’s quick, already primed and prepped to shoot the other ruffian the second he turns away from your maid and to see his comrade passed out on the floor. Jimin launches another arrow with a flick of his finger, a perfect shot.
Both ruthless and merciless men seem to be dead, fallen to the floor of your chamber’s as pools of blood leak from their bodies.
You and your maid tremble in fear and anxiety. Frightened at the series of events and how the two of you were nearly brutally attacked.
Jimin wears streaks of blood across his face as his hair falls out of place. His beautifully tailored festive armor is now beaten and destroyed with stains. You look at him with confusion and anguish as reality sets in.
“Jimin,” you cry out in a broken sob. Your throat tightens and feels as if it’s being pricked by a dozen thorns while your hand runs up to touch the area where the man laid his fingers on.
“I’m sorry,” are the first words out of his mouth. Solemn and saddened. But he’s relieved to be here for you, even if he is cutting it short and close to being a second too late. 
It isn’t his fault the castle has been blindsided and an evil group has snuck their way inside its walls and started a reign of terror. But he takes blame for not being at your side every second that he should have been. Instead, he rushed to the frontlines once called upon. Tried to stop the invasion from penetrating deeper into the castle. 
In most cases this strategy works, but unfortunately tonight – it doesn’t.
But as the fighting continues and larger groups of people begin rushing in from all areas of the castle – equipped with tainted metals containing mountain ash and wolfsbane – the royal guards are not as prepared. A minor setback, yet it almost costs your life.
“I came as soon as I could,” he steps closer to you with sympathetic eyes. He’s hurt, more worried about how you are as he feels your dread and fear. “I’m so sorry.”
There’s still many battles being fought throughout the castle. People being slayed as guards protect as much as they can. Jimin helps you stand straight, holding you close to him as he’s escorting both your maid and you out of your chamber’s.
“Jimin,” you repeat as you hold onto him, wrapping your hands desperately around him. “Who are they?”
He brings the two of you deeper into your chamber, rushing you to a secret doorway that leads to a hidden passage. Your castle is littered with these; most guards know several entrances but not a lot of exits. It’s a maze down there; dark, cold, and gloomy as well. As a child, you would wander through some just to see how far you could reach without cowering out.
“They must be from the South. They’re fighting with wolfsbane. Their weapons are laced with it.”
It’s common knowledge that wolfsbane is rare near these grounds. It’s ordinary for them to grow down South, but they can be imported. Your family is known for being guarded by werewolves; so an attack like this must be heavily planned.
“Remember the passageways?” Jimin grunts as he pushes both you and your maid toward a panel against the wall. It’s colored like an archway, but the third one can be open with a twist of a lever. Specifically the sconce hanging to the left of it. “I need you to escape through them.”
You hear the falter in Jimin’s voice momentarily, how he sounds like he staggered his breath.
“Are you hurt?” You ask alarmingly. Your eyes frantically scan over his exterior, looking for any noticeable signs of a wound.
“Princess, I need you to go through the passageways,” he turns the lighting fixture swiftly. The secret door clicks open, a cool gust of air puffs through and hits against your skin. “Don’t worry about me. I need to protect you and the rest of your family.”
Your maid understands, already stepping through as she’s pulling you with her. Jimn is a guard, he needs to go and maintain his duty. Your maid is a servant – she is here to assist you until she can no longer. She begs you to step quickly, down the stone stairs into the pit of the passages.
“Jimin, no!” You grip tighter on his forearm as he tries to shrug you off of him. Blood tarnishes your cream colored nightgown as you’re pulled away from Jimin. It must be from those Jimin has fought already. “Come with me!”
Jimin takes your chin in his hand and inspects the distress on your face. Even when rushed, worried about your safety and life, he looks at you like he’s lost in your eyes. The gentle touch of his fingertips feels serene, featherlight even though they’re calloused through the years of combat. 
He’s moving you back into the passageway, gripping the door with his other hand to shut it on you when the moment comes. There’s displeasure spilling out of him only because he is infuriated by the way you stubbornly won’t see the concern for yourself.
“I need to protect the family. This is me protecting you,” he speaks sternly. “Please listen to me, princess,” he exhales slowly. His eyes flicker across your features with tenderness, “I am not losing you. Use the passageways,” he reminds you. “Exit at the stables. I will meet you there. You know which way to go?”
You stare at him dumbfounded at first. Like time is slowing down, but you cannot shake the feeling that you won’t see him again. You don’t feel convinced.
“B-But –”
“Go!” Jimin practically growls out his demand to you. In an instant, his amber eyes shine with a blue ring around his irises. It’s the first time Jimin has ever used that timbre with you, making you jolt away with shock. 
He warns you to watch your step and stay on the correct path toward the stables. Keep close to your maid and stay quiet. He rips off his cavalier shoulder cape, draping it around your shoulders to keep you warm as you descend into the chilly pathways. Jimin closes the door promptly, forcing you to turn with your maid and to escape to safety. Your heart ricochettes inside your chest, pounding erratically as you rush.
Throughout the narrow hallways, dripping with leaking water spouts and cobwebs, you hear the signs of savage wolf growls and barks as your royal guard begin shifting as their last resort. Cries of pain and fighting scare you further as you follow the lead of your maid, wondering how you’ll survive what comes ahead. The thin slippers still on your feet dampen with every hurried step you take as you hold Jimin’s cape tighter against your frame to stay as warm as possible.
“I am not losing you,” replays inside your head and inside your heart.
Tumblr media
Moonlight shines from above as your maid cracks open a hardened rock exitway. You came across many forks in the maze of the castle's passageways, but you remember from your past the correct ways to take. The two of you are at the stables, you can smell the mixture of horse and hay in the air. The area is unhit from the onslaught of violence for now.
“Shall we take a horse?” Your maid suggests as she creeps behind a bundle of stacked hay.
“Jimin said he’ll meet us here,” you remind her. 
The chill of the outside runs straight through your body. You curse to yourself at your poor choice of attire.
Together, the two of you watch the distance of all the violence. You see bloodshed with many reinforcements coming from every side of the castle. The thought of Jimin being caught in this mess sends a shiver down your spine. Wolves – your family's guards – have shifted to their creature form. They’re larger than any wild wolf; standing on all four limbs taller than most humans. 
They’re very swift at responding to the attackers, taking them out one by one. But you know the attackers are fighting against them with poisonous tactics – an advantage to go against such beasts. With these weapons, the werewolves near invulnerability, speed, and strengths are weakened once hit with the toxins. You can already witness it with a few of your guards.
“We’re still inside the castle walls, Princess. We need to get out of here fast,” she insists. Her eyes scan around for an opening, an escape route for the two of you. You’ll have to be fast.
“He knows we are here!” You yell at her in a hushed tone. “I’m not leaving unless it’s with –”
Just as you attempt to finish your sentence, the loud sound of wood snapping through the entrance door interrupts you. Men rush in, manically screaming in an uproar as the flames of their torches begin touching the fodder in the stables. Setting the straw ablaze in a matter of seconds.
You and your maid slouch back into a corner, away from view for as long as you can. Horses neigh with anger, jumping and kicking as the brightness and heat of fire creeps toward them. You cannot fathom the thought of losing these beautiful warhorses as they’re each tied to their own box.
“Release them,” you whisper to your maid before you frantically get up from your position and reach for the first horse.
Your soft hands flick up the lever to the wooden door, opening it up for the horse to run through and stumble toward the exit of the stables.
The maid begs you to stay hidden, but you refuse with stubbornness. In the same breath, you hear a shriek from her as you are in the midst of lifting another lever. The attackers have noticed her and shortly spot you as well.
She looks at you with panic, “Run!”
In seconds, she is being grabbed once again by these aggressors. Forced down with a hard shove as she hits the ground. You shout, scream, and cry at the men who flock over toward her. A pitchfork near you is the first thing you see to use as a weapon. Surely you can scare someone off with the points of the tines. 
A bellowful growl grows from a stampede of three wolves bursting onto the scene. They’re far too fast for your eyes to keep up, seeing flashes of their fur dashing around you to strike your attackers. Their teeth bare as they snarl and bite into the flesh of the men, claws digging through the fabrics and skin.
One wolf is nearly all black, slicked fur making it shine in the night. Another has a warm russet color, speckled with hues of beige but warm under the ember of the fires around you. The last wolf is your wolf – you know him far too well. Brighter shades of light brown are in his face as the rest of his pelt darkens into a deep dark, chocolate color. His amber eyes, now sparked with blue, casts over to you briefly as he takes out an enemy, his paw stepping hard against his chest and pressing down.
It’s like whiplash with how fast the royal guards cleared out the stables as the fire consumes the fixtures around you. Smoke fills the air, rising heavily as thick clouds form. Pieces of the loft areas begin to break and fall as the other roped up horses huff and puff.
The stark black wolf is the one lifting your maid off the ground as it nudges her. She’s wounded, you can tell as red covers the fabric of her left arm. You take a step toward her, wanting to console and help – but in return you are barked at by Jimin. He rushes toward you, his speed frightening you as you backpedal away from the area. He stares hard at you, growling in a low tone as ashes fall behind him.
He’s moving you away, wanting you out of the area. The other two wolves bark in his direction, some form of communication you cannot understand as Jimin glances back and responds with his own call. 
The russet colored wolf jumps toward Jimin as you watch your maid latch onto the black fur of the other. She gives you a sympathetic look, mouthing the words ‘get out of here’ to you.
A large beam from above falls and crashes in the middle of the stables, breaking other fixtures in its path. Ember’s rise from the burning building with a massive gust of wind as you turn your face away from the crash.
“Jimin!” You cough as your arms shield you. Your eyes tickle in pain from the smoke, the fire’s brightness doesn’t help either.
You can feel the brush of fur against you as a heavy body presses into your front. You smell the wilderness immediately as you fall forward, burying your face and arms into Jimin’s coat. He nudges you with his shoulder and a grunt. Somehow able to understand what he’s saying.
Quickly, you pull yourself up along his back like one would do for a horse. Your face remains embedded into his fur as you wrap your arms around his neck, hooking your fists onto his coat to anchor yourself.
You move with the russet colored wolf as he clears out the path ahead of you and Jimin. Taking down any attacker standing in the path to escape. It’s difficult to hold onto a wolf, feeling your limbs tighten around Jimin as hard as you possibly can just to stay on top as he dashes through the terrain.
His goal is to get you out of here safely, remove you from the premises. He brings you farther and farther away from the castle and closer to the woods. The last glimpse you dare to make shows you the image of the russet wolf turning back toward the scorched castle grounds.
You pray for the good safety of everyone. Hope the castle is still together after the royal guard protects and saves the night.
Tumblr media
It’s freezing as Jimin runs through the thicket of the wilderness, deeper than you ever dare to go alone. You keep your head down, pressed into his back as bitter cold breezes over the surfaces of your body that aren't protected by Jimin’s warmth. The nightgown you wear is thin, not topped with layers among layers of fabrics and wiring like a corseted dress would have. Not to mention the tingling burn to your bare feet as the winter air touches them. But he is warm. A heated beast beneath you, emitting a comforting temperature the more your fingers curl into the roots of his bristle fur.
His breath is labored, chest heaving as his limbs carry you fast. Jimin zips through the rough terrain of the earthy woods, jumping and dodging the obstacles in his way. You fear the tightness of your muscles as you cling on to him, feeling the exhaust of your body as they sore.
You’re not sure how long you’ve been a passenger on Jimin’s back. Everything has happened so quickly. It isn’t until you hear the noises of strangers. The padding of snow under Jimin’s paws begins sounding different. Now stepping on hardened ground.
Your eyes blink open as you take in the surroundings passing by. Glowing lights in tapered windows of wooden cabins flash in seconds. Secured doors and moss growth along the sides of several cabin-like housings. 
Jimin leads with a howl, rushing toward the only place he knows will keep you the most protected. He slows his pace as he draws near, beckoning with a warning call for the door to swing open and allow him in. You find yourself entering with him, a soft warmth from a low burning fireplace greets you as the two of you enter.
You feel the way Jimin stumbles, his body catching up with how taxed he must be. The way his shoulders shrug tells you to dismount him as his mouth pants labored breaths. Carefully, you slide until your toes touch the floor below you.
“Jimin?” Your first concern comes out worriedly. Your hands still roam his fur as you notice the warmth of red liquid staining your palms – even pieces of your clothes. It’s enough to make you feel uneasy about the open wounds you fail to find through his pelt.
He’s quick to move from you, tripping over himself as he walks deeper toward the back of the cabin. A low growl rumbles from his chest as a warning, unwanted contact from you.
You take a step to follow him, seeing how hurt he is – it only wrenches your heart tighter. Your eyes grow wider the further he steps away from you, scurrying himself as he barks in the air for help.
A soft pair of hands hold onto your elbow, keeping you from the beast in pain. You snap your head toward the contact, searching for the reason why you’ve been halted.
“Don’t.” A woman with dark, long wavy hair speaks in a low tone. Her skin is aged but glows beautifully. Bundled up in layered clothes, she wears a worried look just like you. But it’s because she is stressed about your concern over the wolf in agony. “He will be alright.”
The door behind her has already been shut tight as the woman urges you to sit on the closest couch. Your eyes flick back to Jimin who continues to pad down the end of the hallway, twisting into a new shape as his body slowly transforms back into a human state. It’s an image you never expected to see, completely magical and out of this world as you catch glimpses of a wolf morphing into man.
His deep groans turn more audible as his real voice is able to break free.
“Wolfsbane –” he curses out into the open as he’s hunched over. He breathes heavily, open mouth catching air for his lungs as his fingers now claw at the bloody abrasion on the left side of his chest.
From your spot on the sofa, you witness Jimin suffering in a fetal position with no clothes. He’s turned to the side, hiding what he can in his vulnerable state. His long hair, usually kept neatly pulled back, falls dramatically across his face. His nose scrunches as his lips pull back to show his seething teeth.
“Jimin!” You begin to stand up, but the woman holds her hands out before you.
“Stay, Princess! Please!” Her voice is soft.
She tries her best to be respectful, honoring your title even in the severity of a situation. “I’m his mother.” She claims before gripping a knitted wool blanket off the back of a chair and rushing over to her son.
You blink, stunned as you process all the movements and information playing out in front of you.
Jimin coughs as his head presses into the floor. You watch in horror the way Jimin’s body rejects the burn of the wolfsbane that entered his system. Jerking and moving in his place as some mystical natured element helps overcome his pain. Jimin’s mother places the blanket over Jimin, shielding him from your innocent eyes. She squats beside him, hand placing over his forehead as his face twists with strain.
“Fight it,” she encourages as she pushes back his bangs to inspect his eyes. They’re reddened on the edges. The infection attacks deeply within him. His blue shiny irises that come out when he taps into his wolf form is stationary, shining brightly as he internally battles the poisonous herb. “Push it out, you can do it.”
You catch him staring at you as he overcomes this annoyance. It’s not enough to be deadly for him, but it is a good amount to weaken his overall state for the time being. His body fights to heal properly, but he’ll be ready soon.
The first initial wave of pain eases on Jimin. You don’t notice it due to the blanket covering his body, but a small pool of tainted blood leaks out of his wound. Spoiled by the wretched poison. It’s what his body needs to do, reject it and remove it entirely from him.
“Can I help in any way?” You stand and step toward him as his panting calms.
“No, no!” Jimin’s mother’s hands shoot out, shooing you. “You don’t need to do anything! His body is healing,” she reassures. “It may not make any sense, but he is going to be good. Just give him some time. Wolves have an accelerated healing power.”
“But –” you begin to counter. You feel helpless, powerless. Your heart hurts from seeing Jimin in such a distraught state. You can’t shake the image out of your head.
“Stop,” you hear Jimin breathing out. His tenor voice aching as his body shivers. “Stay over there,” he begs. “Just give me a second, Princess.”
All you can do is wait. Watch the way the man you care for struggles with himself as his supernatural body convulses and kicks out the vicious wolfsbane as he rapidly recovers. His grunts and groans do nothing to help, making you worry even more. 
When Jimin finally settles, he lays limp on the floor. Relief washes over him as the surging pain seizes and his body begins to feel like normal once again. Sweat has slickened the roots of his hair, surely the rest of his skin expelled other toxins.
He starts to lift himself off the floor, using his arms to push him up to a sitting position first – then enough to stand. He clutches the blanket around him. Holding it tight around his waist and covering his lower region.
“Take your time,” his mother whispers. She, too, stands with him. Using her hands to help guide him if he wavers on his feet. He’s taller than her, but you can tell she’s strong from the way she helps hold her son up.
“I have to go back,” he says to her, but stares at you.
Jimin takes a few tentative steps until he catches the motion easilier. He walks over to you in concern, abandoning the dripped blood on the floorboard from where he once laid. You're shivering in place, not realizing it yourself.
“Mom, would you mind finding something the princess can change into? Clean her up a little as well?”
You waste no time rushing yourself to him regardless of Jimin pleading for you not to. That doesn’t stop the way your arms wrap around his torso, feeling the warmth of his smooth skin as you hold him. Your head curls into his shoulder as his free arm surrounds your back, pulling you against him.
“Please, be good. Back up,” he slowly walks you in his embrace. 
You feel the rumble of his voice through his chest as you press desperately against him, not wanting to let him go just yet. He’s homely like your favorite hiding place back in the castle or the comfort of your bed after a long day of duties. It feels right to be with him as your mind speaks these words of nonsense.
“Don’t leave again,” you beg as your heartstrings twinge with sadness. You think latching onto Jimin even more would be the answer of his choice, but alas it is not. His arm is placing you down on the sofa for you to sit as he kneels on the floor. Even when you try grabbing at him, he politely pushes your hands away.
“Mom,” Jimin calls out as his hands grip the bottoms of your bare feet. He runs his palms across them, feeling how frigid they’ve become. Jimin ignores the way your cold hands try to turn his head to look up at you, stubbornly keeping it down and focused on your toes. When he fails to hear a response, he shouts again, “Mom!”
“Jimin!” You call to get his attention, fingers running through his thick locks to expose his face. Cupping his cheeks doesn’t suffice either, even your attempt to tilt his jaw fails. He isn’t budging from his position.
His mother comes out of another room with an abundant amount of clothes. Each of them look heavy, thick. Enough to hopefully keep you bundled up in the chill of a winter’s night.
Jimin squeezes your feet with his hands, trying to circulate more blood flow as he tries to warm you. He suffers knowing you’re freezing, not in an ideal state. But he can also feel the way your heart pangs with confusion and hurt. He can smell the fear radiating off of your body as you process so much.
“Would you mind changing into these?” His mother comes into your view. She begins placing pieces out in order to dress. Layers ready at your will. “I can wash your nightgown. Rid you of those stains. I can try patching up the tears in your skirt.”
The doleful look in your eyes tells her enough at one glance. She sighs as a tear trickles down the bridge of your nose.
“Why won’t you look at me?” Your voice cracks mid sentence as you stare helplessly at Jimin.
It’s languid the way his eyes flick up to you, shrouded with sadness behind his lashes.
“You’re freezing,” he states.
“I’m more hurt that you won’t let me do anything for you,” you respond with irritation. “I’m fine. You’re not.” You gesture to his exposed chest, muddied with swipes of blood on his left side.
“There’s nothing there anymore. The wound is sealed already. It’s just drying blood.”
He looks down back at your feet, finally noticing his stained hands – how he’s holding you with his own filth. The thought upsets him entirely.
Abruptly, Jimin stands. Turning away from you and rushing over to the fireplace to place more wood in the burning embers. He tightens the blanket around his waist, pacing across the floor of the cabin for anything he thinks you need before he departs.
“Run a bath,” he tells his mother. “It’ll warm her up faster. Then she can change into the clean clothes.”
“I don’t want that,” you speak. “I’ll take the clothes as they are. But Jimin –”
“– I need to go back,” he whips around in his spot. Jimin is fast on his feet, gathering some more blankets and gripping your hand. “My old room is just over here. Make yourself at home. I know this isn’t ideal but it will keep you safe and warm. My mother,” Jimin glances over at her, “She’ll be a great help. Please, take care of the Princess before I return.”
You rip your hand away from Jimin while stubbornly holding your place on the couch. It’s an act you never suspected yourself to do so harshly. The appalled look on your face puzzles Jimin. Makes him look down at you in silence, awaiting for you to speak.
“No,” you stare back. “Why can’t you just stay?”
“I have a duty,” he responds just as fast. “One to serve the royal family.”
“I am the royal family!”
“I am a part of the entire pack fighting for the kingdom right now. I must be with them.”
The frustration causes your blood to boil under your skin. Heat rises to your cheeks as anger takes over. He’s staring you down. Jimin is right after all. But yet again, without him even speaking, you can hear his voice repeat the words ‘that’s selfish of you’. It rattles inside your head as your lips quiver with emotion.
You turn your head, eyes filled with sorrow dropping to your lap. The scolding fire from his bright eyes hurts you deeply. Yet he doesn’t have intentions to upset you, Jimin only wants to protect you.
“Go.”
The single word comes out so cold, so unlike your usual tone. It catches Jimin off guard.
The entire time Jimin’s mother stands in silence, trying to read the room herself as the two of you cast a tense environment. She has no place to utter a single word, not here. For a moment, she shares a cautious glance with her son. Something in her eyes that tells him that he needs to do something – say something.
“Prin –”
“– I do not want to see you.” Your voice sounds meek, on edge of falling over in the pool of emotion laying inside of you. If only he can understand how important you’ve made him in your life. How special he is and the comfort that comes with him when he’s around. Imagining him returning beaten up again bothers you. Thinking he might not come back at all is even worse.
“Just, go.” You command.
“Y/n,” Jimin speaks in a gentle voice. He steps closer to you with a heavy heart, “I’m sorry.” Slowly, he leans down to level his head with yours. It’s alright with him that you refuse to look back. Jimin knows he has your attention regardless. You feel the soft graze of his knuckle run along the edge of your jaw, surprised from the tender touch. “I really am sorry,” he smiles faintly as he leans in just enough to place his plump lips delicately on your temple.
Jimin leaves your side, turns on his heel and swiftly moves out the front door. It’s a rush from the way his body forms back into wolf and his paws press into the ground, carrying him further away from you. He wants to be here for you, but his loyalty lies deep to the guards and your family. Jimin knows you are safe, under the protection of his mother and the community surrounding the cabin. He would never just leave you.
A gust of wind blows in from outside, the chill reminding you how low the temperatures are. Jimin’s mother kindly shuts and locks the door. Silence stills softly in the ambiance of the crackling fireplace.
It breaks you knowing Jimin isn’t staying by your side. The rational side of your brain screams at you, telling you he is doing the right thing. But the emotional soft boundaries you have, that are more tender than a baby bird, weakens the further Jimin is. Like a piece of your heart constantly stripping from you. Cracking and bleeding from unreciprocated love.
The gentle face of Jimin’s mother approaches you, her soft hand places it upon your shoulder to gain your attention.
“Princess,” she begins with a kind tone. “Please know, we’ll do anything to protect you. You’re in a safe place now. My name is Mira. Let’s have you change into something warmer. I can make some tea as well.”
Her words do not stop the slow streams of tears dripping from your face. You wipe away each of them the moment they pass the curve of your cheeks, frustration and heartbreak laying deep within you.
When will he come back, you begin to wonder. Will he come back? Flashes of the ruffians and ruthlessness they project remind you how dangerous they are. What damages have they done with your family's castle? To your precious belongings?
And then it reminds you… You haven’t thought about your family. Your father and siblings, are they safe and sound? Are they escorted off the property by the guards as they clean up the mess of the intruders? How selfish of you, truly, to only think of yourself and Jimin.
Your realization serves you like the small piece of bread and tea served to you on a platter from Mira. It makes you cry more about how childish and foolish your mind is.
“He does love you,” Mira speaks again. Her eyes crinkle with wrinkles as she smiles. “He does the things he does because he loves you.”
Tumblr media
Jimin yearns to return to your side the moment his feet step out of his childhood home. He rushes back to the castle grounds, reconnecting with the king's royal guard and abolishing any trespasser standing in his way. He fought for hours with righteousness and duty, tearing apart men limb from limb as he dodges the poisonous silver weapons laced with a venomous herb. When the time comes that the invasion of hoodlums either retreat or have been eliminated by the brute force of the royal guard – Jimin doesn’t hesitate to rush back to you. 
He’s been given the blessing from his higher-ups. Notified that the castle will be on high alert while the rest of your family has been scattered to their own locations of safety. They too have their own personal guards who stand their grounds and hover their sides. What matters now is that the kingdom is still intact even after such a brutal attack. They are not overthrown and they will continue on as supreme rulers.
As for any hostages held from the invaders, they will be judged appropriately and prodded for questions and answers before the royal court. Jimin has seen this many times, but never to this extent. This is the first time in his line of duty that the castle was attacked – but he is thankful for the outcome.
He wouldn’t know what would have happened if it turned out different.
His chest heaves with heavy breaths as he slows his pace the moment his eyes lay on the door to his mother’s house. Inside he knows you are waiting, impatiently he assumes. But seeing your face again will give him a sense of relief. A calming vortex that sinks deep inside his body and warms his nerves.
Jimin’s blood pumps in his ears as he calls out to his mother in the form of telepathy – a unique trait wolves have with one another. An inner circle of connections that allows wolves to speak to other wolves. Mira is ready by the door, twisting the handle and allowing Jimin a swift entrance into the house.
He tries to step quietly as his heavy wolf form causes the wood flooring to creak under his steps. His pads resound a soft thud as he walks. At first, he expects to walk straight to his room as he remembered he offered you his place to rest. But as his nose picks up your immediate scent, he realizes that you’re still resting on the couch right in front of the fire.
“She hasn’t moved,” Mira murmurs under her breath. Jimin’s mother stayed up all hours he was gone, watching and keeping you company. “I’ve given her plenty of tea and washed her face with a heated cloth. I’ve kept adding more wood to the fire to help. Even in her sleep, she still shivers. She may have hypothermia,” she warns.
He wouldn’t put it past him if this is the case. You were never made for enduring February winters in just a nightgown after all. Barefooted may he add.
Jimin walks over you, his nose sniffing at your skin to seek any discomfort your body may radiate. You lay there bundled up as much as you can under heavy fabrics of wool and fur. Jimin smiles to himself fondly as he sees the way you tuck your chin into the blanket and cover your nose.
A tentative look is shared between Jimin and his mother before he nudges his head against your arms.
You rouse from your slumber momentarily and your immediate reaction is to tighten your body and move to a more comfortable position. However, Jimin doesn’t allow you. He nudges you again and this time he digs his nose between the crack of your arms, prying them open so he can slot his head through and force your arm around his neck.
Mumbling in your sleep, you groan at the annoyance of being woken up. But when you feel the soft bristles of fur against your face and the undeniable warmth coming from them, you cling onto whatever is pressing against you.
It wakes you further. Enough to make you register enough to know Jimin is in your arms right now. Your fingers cling onto him tightly, screwing them into knots as you inhale deeply into the side of his neck. He smells like the frozen forest mixed with burning embers; the smell of smoke clogging between his roots.
His warmth is what reminds you of home. It forces happiness to leak out of your eyes as a warm tear drips onto his fur the more you bury your face into him. His movement forces you to wake up, urging you with a tug to get off the couch and follow him.
Leisurely, you hang from him while he ushers you to the other room – his room. Your feet stumble as the two of you pass Mira. You don’t care how clumsy you look, you’re just happy to have Jimin back.
“Jimin,” his mother tries speaking in a hushed tone. “Remember who you are to her.”
He doesn’t stop his stride as he enters his old bedroom with you nearly hanging off of him. It’s upkept well thanks to his mom. Nothing moved or changed over the years. With a few more nudges and suggestive pushes, he has you falling into place upon the mattress. It’s low to the ground, easy for him to step on it even in wolf form and lay comfortably as you attach yourself to his back. 
This form is undoubtedly the warmest. And with his wolf form he serves as a natural furnace for you. He doesn’t mind the way your fingers dig into his fur or the way your cold body presses desperately against his. He allows anything that will warm you up.
His eyes meet his mother’s as she leans in to shut the bedroom door. Words and feelings cannot describe his unfair bond to you – but with werewolves, they have a mutual understanding of how things work.
Jimin groans with a huff before putting his head down on the bed. He stays awake, alert, and listens to the sounds and conversations running through his head. Even when the threat is over, he still stays guard. Ready to pounce on anything that comes toward you.
For now, you may sleep comfortably. Jimin will be able to tell you later about the results of the castle and your family. 
Tumblr media
You’re greeted by coldness as you toss and turn. The fresh chill pricks your cheeks, jolting your nerves to wake when you want nothing more than sleep. Chirps of wild birds sing outside of the window that casts a dull ray of sun into the room. It still looks dark out. There’s also an ache in your joints and muscles, particularly in your neck.
Perhaps you slept awful,  used to having your luxury linens and perfectly fluffed pillows. Instead you spent the night balled up, tight, against the only thing that holds heat.
The fire isn’t what saves you from the brisk cold of winter. It is the tender bristles of a wolf’s fur that hordes blissful heat, warmer than a copper pan filled with rocks warmed at the edge of a fire.
But you are not welcomed with that same softness of Jimin’s fur anymore. When you turn again, you realize you press against the smooth surface of his broadened back. Black ink decorates down his spine in the phases of the moon as your eyes focus from the haze of sleep. Does it make any sense to see the man you adore, shirtless with his back to you in the same bed? 
Absolutely not.
Your clogged head tries to clear the fog of confusion as you edge away from Jimin. He’s tucked under the covers, just as you. His chest rises and falls slowly, in a deep sleep. He’s more exhausted than you, his body fought all night. It makes sense he finally collapsed into a resting state; relaxed and dare you say, delicate. The branded ink shines subtly as his skin, miraculously still smooth, feels even warmer under your tender fingertips. Slowly, you trace invisible patterns onto his skin, mesmerized by the way he doesn’t pull away from you.
You feel guilty for snuggling up closer to him, knowing very well he isn’t in a conscious state for him to put you back in your place like all the other times. But you feel drawn in and addicted to his warmth and security in such a tender position.
Jimin inhales and exhales deeply, shifting his head when he feels your fingers tickle the nape of his neck. He shifts in his sleep, moving his body enough to force you to freeze. His hand reaches back, swatting away your hand as if it is a dainty bug crawling on him. But he realizes it’s nothing but a hand – your hand – and instead, he grips it. Pulling it around him and stretching your arm across his torso so that he can hold it against his chest. Jimin curls himself in a fetal position, dragging you flush against his back.
“Stop tickling me,” he murmurs in a groggy voice. He huffs out a small burst of air, humor laced with it.
Your forehead presses into his spine, a small smile creeping up on your lips.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Silence falls once again except for the subtle sounds of Jimin’s breathing. You could stay like this forever if you were able to. Ignore all responsibilities of life and stay with Jimin. Deep down, you secretly wish this. Having his protection and solace, bringing you solitude and clarity. You know that he is all you will ever need. He’s been exactly everything you need him to be in your life, even when times get tough and he guides you to do something you’re stubbornly against. It’s all for your well-being. Your overall happiness. Jimin has never steered you down the wrong path; even if it’s the path you wouldn’t pick yourself.
He is strong in many ways you aren’t. Rational and accountable. You know he will do everything in his power to let you have the perfect life and he will never leave you.
This feeling of unfulfillment with your heart always reminds you how a large piece of him belongs there. No matter how much room you make for your family and potential suitors that come your way. Nothing will fill the undeniable love you have toward your personal royal guard.
“I’m sorry,” you repeat. This time with a different reason.
You’re apologizing for yourself. For the position you put yourself in even though you never win the fight with your emotions. How you cannot control this bond between the two of you and how you cannot change the way you feel toward him. You know you could never be with a wolf, let alone your own personal guard. The years between you doesn’t matter either. Jimin still looks as you first remember him, minus the added tattoos, scars and array of hair styles he’s sported. He has always been your guard, a figure to look up to, a brother, and a best friend without being them at the same time.
The connection you feel with Jimin is unexplainable. A natural magnetic draw you feel. A compelling force screaming at you that this – he – is exactly what your mind, body, and soul needs.
“Get some more rest,” Jimin urges as he squeezes your hand a little bit tighter.
“I am being honest with you,” you declare.
“So am I,” Jimin’s sleepy voice seeps through.
Your small tiff stirs Jimin awake. He turns slowly, still maintaining his hold on your hand as he faces you. The small puff of his cheeks shows you how tired he must be as his eyes remain closed. Jimin leans in, pushing your head into his chest as he rests his face into the top of your head.
“Rosemary,” he speaks out loud. He inhales slowly, admiring the sweet scent of the herb used to wash your hair every night. “It suits you so much.”
You feel a flush of warmth coursing through your body in such an intimate position. You have never been this close or tangled with Jimin like this before. There’s faint scars across his chest from what you can see, memories of past battle wounds that cut too deep perhaps.
“Are you hurt?” You question. Wondering how his body never correctly healed these specific marks.
“Not anymore,” he hums as he pulls you in tighter.
You can hear the faint beating of his heart as you twist your head to lay against his chest. It thumps calmly, like a lullaby whispering in your ear.
“Why are you here?” You dare to question. 
A heavy thought that’s been weighing on your mind for far too long. You want to thank him for welcoming you into his solitude and keeping you warm throughout the night. Even then, you hardly remember moving from the couch to this bed. Jimin sharing a bed with you doesn’t make any sense to you. Especially how he rests with no clothes on; assumingly you believe as the blankets cover more than your eyes can see.
“Warmth,” he responds. “I had to keep you warm. But I fell asleep.”
“Why are you still here then…?”
Jimin exhales deeply. He still rests as much as he can even with your quizzing questions.
“I’m pretending I’m still dreaming.”
“Dreaming?” You blink.
“Yes.” Jimin’s hand gingerly raises to stroke the side of your head, brushing off any stray locks. His palm is so warm against you, the contact heating you instantly. “A dream. Would you like me to leave?”
“No,” you blurt out faster than you expected. “I just don’t understand,” you try leaning back to look at his face.
“Princess,” he tsks. “How can I explain this?” He questions himself more than you. Jimin places his lips on your forehead and rests them there as he contemplates his words. “A wolf cannot be mixed with a royal. But you desire a wolf. And a wolf desires you.” He hesitates with the next sentence that leaves his mouth. “However, it will never be allowed. And thus… a dream.”
“You dream of this?” You ask, stunned.
“Don’t you?” He huffed a laugh. “I know you do. There are times that I can read it all over your pretty face. I can feel it too.”
“I-I,” you feel flustered. Your feathers fluffed every which way as Jimin speaks so carelessly of such a sensitive subject.
“I know how you feel for me,” he states. “I’m sorry you do. Even when I try to keep you on the right path, show you your responsibilities and guide you to your title's destiny… you found a sanctuary in me.”
Jimin continues to stroke your face with his thumb, his nose breathes out hot air against your forehead. He caresses you tenderly, holds you dear to him as if he is afraid to let you go.
“I’ve… I have always loved you,” you confess. Swallowing thickly as your throat closes up with emotion. Jimin allows you to slide your arms around him again.
“I know. I can feel everything you feel,” he sighs. “Your happiness. Your sadness. That painstaking broken heart every time you’re forced to live your reality.”
He smiles softly against your skin, peppering small kisses where his lips rest.
“I also feel the way you can’t control your emotions. How you constantly battle with what’s right and wrong. How not a single person draws your attention more than I do. I can’t really explain how I can feel these things,” he tilts your head to look down into your eyes. “It won’t make any sense.”
In the soft morning light, his features are more admirable. His skin glows beautifully, like a natural highlight illuminating off of the edges of his face. Jimin cracks open his eyes, only slightly, to peer down at your innocent expression. A face he’s seen for many years after being scolded or pressed for answers. The beauty in his eyes, that crisp amber hue, shifts a shade darker as they land on your parting lips.
“Jimin, I don’t want this to be a dream.”
You’re honest about it. The aura of intimacy is fueling the room so purely, it’s nearly smothering. Jimin allows his walls to break down for you to enter; let’s you in his space even when it goes against everything the two of you know.
His thumb flicks your bottom lip, feeling the soft flesh under his digit. He can feel the natural draw, how his body is aching with a tantalizing need to kiss you. To have you, just for now, before he must go back to reality.
“I’ll do anything for you,” he declares as he looks down at you sadly. “I devoted myself the very first moment I saw you.” His breath shakes as he lets out a breath he was holding.
“Princess,” he begins, the small curve of his lips upturning. He knows this is dangerous, it’s not allowed. Years of pining and rejecting you, fearing the system of the world and the way of life, he’s taking his one and only opportunity to be selfish. A thing you know so very well. Jimin leans down, lips nearly brushing yours, “Please forgive me.”
Your lips press together in a gentle embrace. He pours his unannounced love for you with this kiss; all those years of pent-up, hopeless desires and unfathomable attachment finally burst through with the only way he can show you. 
There’s no way of telling how long your kiss lasts; and eternity sounds like an understatement. Your breath hitches in your throat, surprised by the act and realism of Jimin – the man you’ve grown to love throughout all these years – has committed such a sinful, yet delightful, treason for the sake of his own greed. The same act you do not disgust, appall, or dislike. You greet it, after a few moments of shock, with happiness. A passion of feeling what you pined for all this time. Acceptance, understanding, and need.
Jimin’s warm fingers run along the side of your face and down the length of your arm. “Pretend it’s just a dream.” He smiles in between kisses.
A subtle tear breaks the brim of your eye as you capture Jimin in a passionate, breathtaking kiss. You bring him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and tasting his tongue in your mouth. 
When it’s just a dream, you’re allowed to cross the lines of right and wrong. Do the things you want to do, impulsively or not. That’s why you don’t bother to wait when you desperately cling to him, tangling your soft fingers through his messy hair. You feel the way Jimin presses himself into you, not a care of his royal guard status or what your title is. He brings his love out to another being – you.
You feel the gentle pull of his hands at the lining of your padded clothes. There’s so much keeping you bundled, but he’s sure he can keep you warm with his body. His hands roam under the fabrics, feeling the touch of the soft skin of your hip. He skirts his hand up your back, pressing his palm onto you to drag you into him.
“Are you sure?” You question him as if you’re being fooled. Tricked into thinking this truly is a dream and not something you will remember.
“I’ve never wanted something so desperately,” he admits with no embarrassment. “So many times I’ve had to tell you to look away from me. Entertain these other suitors… It hurts. But I know I will always be there for you even if your feelings aren’t as they are now. Even if you didn’t feel for me. I can’t help that. I’m bound to you.”
Your eyes roam the expanse of his body that you can see against the pale sheets of his old mattress. His words send glee to your heart. Had you known this hurts him as much as it hurts you, you would do something about it. Find a way to make something work. There must be a way.
“I’m sorry for being so distant with you in regard to your emotions. But, I do it to protect you. I’m not right for you.” Jimin whispers as his lips reconnect with yours. A carnal desire brewing deep inside of him, no doubt inside of you too.
“Jimin,” you whimper against his mouth. The crack in your voice is threatening to snap.
“Tell me to stop.”
“Don’t,” you sniffle. 
Your head is a clutter of sensitive emotions ransacking your brain. Clouding your headspace as if you are in a daydream. But you accept it. Allow this illusion, real or not, to be as real as it can ever get.
You accept him and this moment of time.
The heat of Jimin’s body keeps you warm from the chilled air outside of the sheets. Slowly, he shifts to have you laying on your back as his body crawls over you. Jimin plants soft and wet kisses down your jawline to a sweet spot on the side of your neck, multitasking with the buttons of your thick clothes.
The second he is able to free portions of your body from the garments, his skin slides over yours. Touching every delicately smooth surface of your body. Rising goosebumps through each sway of his fingers across every inch. You melt into his touches, a quiet whimper and pleasant hum escaping your nose.
“You’re so beautiful,” he comments as he levels his head with yours. He takes a moment to peer down at your morning face, admiring the way you look even with a rough night. Jimin remembers your eyes the most. How genuine and curious they are. He reminisces about the first time; when a shot of an electrifying spark penetrated his entire being because of his imprinting nature… how it connected him to you for as long as you live. “I will never lose you.”
Jimin can feel the way your body speaks to him. How together all your nerve endings and atoms feel as if they join like a perfect puzzle. It leads him further to your core, trailing his hand tentatively as he waits for a clear sign for him to continue.
He presses himself gently against you, showing you his growing need for you. The hardened appendage pokes you like a soft tapping on a door, trying to be as polite as possible.
You take his face in your hands, pulling him down for another emotional kiss. You nod to him, giving him the clearing to roam your most secretive bits.
After removing the access clothing from your legs, his fingertips glide up your inner thighs. He shivers when he inhales suddenly, taking in the small whiff of your scent. Instinctively, and almost casually, you bend your knee to allow more access for him.
Jimin’s fingers ghost over your core, brushing against the edges before feeling the slick heat from your lower lips. He teases you at first but not on purpose. Jimin swallows nervously, fighting with his body to remind himself to take things slow.
He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling at the plump piece of flesh as his index finger runs down your slit. You shutter with a breath of hot air blowing out, enjoying the foreign touch.
Unsure what to do with your hands, you begin to run them down his hard chest to mimic the similar style of approach he does on you. Though you’re halted the moment you hit his navel by his hand.
“Allow me to focus on you,” he requests in a soft tone. He raises your knuckles to his mouth where he plants a chaste kiss to them.
He suggests for your hands to remain away as he descends down the valley of your breasts. Each tender kiss he leaves to your feverish skin in the commute to your lower region has you squirming. You hoist the blankets over your body as Jimin disappears underneath them, taking the heat too. He’s able to maneuver skillfully between your legs, slotting himself neatly as you spread them wider.
You don’t get to see the way Jimin licks his lips when his eyes focus on your core for the first time. How your scent hits his nose at full force, reminding him how beautifully wet you’re becoming with the tension built up around you. His finger returns to you, sliding down your slit and nudging against your clit. It causes you to jolt, instinctively closing your legs around him as much as possible. But he keeps them open with his hands and body as he moves closer.
Peeking under the covers, you see the dark hair of Jimin sinking between the junction of your thighs. You capture the scene, branding it in your memory the moment Jimin’s mouth abruptly comes down on to your clit. You cry out, gripping the blankets in hard fists as his tongue languidly flicks over your sensitive bud as his finger teases your entrance.
“Shh,” he tries to tame you when he inserts his finger into you. You clench tightly, shift your legs even more as your body adjusts to Jimin.
He’s wondering what you’ll feel like if he inserts another, if it’ll pull another whimper and a moan from you. And he has to; to spread your entrance wider and stretch your walls open enough to allow him inside. Prepare your body for the intrusive thoughts bleeding into his mind of your body shaking under him with pleasure.
Jimin curls his fingers once he adds a second one into the mix, slowly pumping them in you at a steady pace as his lips caress your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks your bud so dangerously, it makes you cry out even louder and begins to disturb the silent winter morning air.
His free hand comes down to your waist to stop your hips from bucking into him. Jimin releases his mouth from you and calms his fingers as he hushes you once again.
“Quiet, Princess. Please.”
“Jimin, I-I’m-” You pant softly. Your chest shakes with the rise and fall and intense pounding of your heart.
“Don’t be sorry,” he interjects. Jimin slides himself up your body again while still securing his fingers inside your core. “I know it’s hard to not be loud.” He places a kiss to your cheek before finding your mouth, the taste of you still lingering on his plump lips. Gently, he adds a third finger into your entrance and captures your whine with a sealed kiss.
He uses this moment to experimentally widen your walls with the scissoring effect of his fingers. Fighting off the impulsive clench your body naturally does. When his thumb presses into your clit your body jumps.
Your hands rush to his head, combing through his hair as you fight to anchor yourself on something.
Jimin winces from the strength and harsh pull, but he doesn’t let it bother his actions. Instead, he is kissing your neck again as his hand wraps around your back. He lifts you up like it’s easy until you’re straddling his lap, legs still parted wide for him. Jimin removes his fingers from you, allowing him to push you closer against his hardness. The contact makes his neglected member flinch with excitement.
Your cheeks prick with sparks of warmth as you look Jimin in the eyes again. Both completely naked and in each other's own embrace. Your hot slick presses against his shaft and Jimin cannot help but use his hand to push you into him again.
The blankets have fallen around the two of you, leaving Jimin’s strong muscles to hold you upright on top of him and exposed for him and only him.
“You can’t tell anyone…” he begins as his lips lock with yours. “What happens here must stay here.”
“But what if I don’t want that?” You ask, catching your breath in between kisses.
“Want and need are two different things.”
“I want both of those though,” you exclaim. “I want and need you, Jimin.”
He silences you again, but this time with his tongue. He dives deep into your mouth, groaning with the taste of you that excites him.
“Don’t ever speak of this,” he reminds you. “You mean more to me than you can ever imagine. You’re special to me, Y/n. You will always have me.”
Your heart tightens in your chest as you hear his sincere words. Relief is an understatement. The reassurance and verbal notice of Jimin’s confession is enough to send you to cloud nine. His loyalty and dedication to your family's name isn’t the only thing he cares for. The importance of you and how you are something more to him sends your heart into eternal bliss. Maybe all it took is to finally hear it from the source.
“I’ve always loved you,” you declare as if Jimin never knew this himself. 
He nods, leaning in to capture another kiss from you as your hands tugs on his shoulders. Your mouths move together so perfectly, reminding you how you want nothing more than to do this for the rest of your life. Lightly, your clit brushes against his hardened and untouched dick. The sensation of how close you are to it sends excitement through your body, arousing you more as you desperately rock against him for more stimulation with his help. Your slick drips along his lap, making the glide easier for you.
You admire the tip of his cockhead pointing up toward you, silently requesting to be touched.
“Help me,” you whisper as your legs try to help raise you above him.
Jimin positions his cock when you’re hovering over him. Your arousal drips teasingly over him, dressing the mushroom head of his tip in a shiny coat. He breathes out a strangled breath as the curse word ‘shit’ runs out of his lips. 
Slowly, you drop down on Jimin’s cock. Allowing him to stretch you open as the first inches penetrate you. He holds you up, allows you to sink down at your own pace as both your mouths open with pleasurable surprise. A silent gasp leaves the two of you breathless as you sit flush against him, ignoring any prickling pain as your walls flutter around his cock. Squeezing and unsqueezing rigorously as your head tosses back with eyes screwed shut. Jimin groans with a string of incoherent words, muffled by the way he presses his lips into the side of your neck.
“Oh,” you whimper. 
Knees already threatening to buckle and morph into jelly, your hands hold onto Jimin’s sturdy shoulders when you look down between the two of you. There’s fascination running through you as you watch the way your breasts rub against his chest each time your body moves down his; watching the way he disappears inside of you and filling you up.
The two of you moan in unison as you experimentally roll your hips into him. Jimin’s fingers tighten around your thighs, jerking his hips up to meet yours. He keeps a leisurely pace with you as he wishes nothing but to make you feel pleasurable. You can feel the way your orgasm slowly builds within you as you hold Jimin’s head closer against your neck. A desperate way of holding onto something while you begin to tremble with sensitivity.
“Is it too much?” He questions as he holds you impossibly closer to his body.
You breathe deeply, clutching his cock with your walls.
“No,” you choke out. “I need more.”
Jimin pulls you off of him to greet your face with his. He lays you down expertly, letting your body rest soft against the mattress again. Jimin is able to hook his arm around one of your legs and gently lifts it higher, testing the new angle and watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. 
You cry out his name as you feel his cock run across a specific spot inside of you, making your toes curl and back arch. The sparks in your body flying like lightning in the sky.
There’s a tightness in your stomach that shoots down to your lower region, alerting you of your approaching orgasm. Jimin notices from the way you shake with each thrust he gives. He holds your legs wide, allowing deeper access to push into you as his abdomen flexes every time his body bangs into yours.
“Like this?” He breaths out, a glimpse of blue shining from his eyes.
“K-keep… Y-yes,” you moan, feeling him hit every mark with this new angle.
Jimin lowers himself down to catch your lips with his, closing your mouth and muffing your noises to the best of his abilities. He absolutely loves hearing the sounds of your whimpers and pleasure, but he’s not trying to allow everyone else to hear them.
Another quick and particular movement of Jimin’s hips has you coming undone beneath him, bucking your hips up to match his thrusts as you squeeze tight around him. You feel the way your nails dig into his shoulders as you shake uncontrollably as Jimin continues to thrust through your orgasm. The sounds of your bodies colliding heightens with squelching noises, your dripping arousal coating his entire pelvis and leaking onto the sheets below.
With a few more sharp thrusts, Jimin pulls out of you and spills his seed onto your stomach. Dressing your smooth skin with strings of milky residue. You catch the ending bit, watching the way his cum spurts out of his cockhead as Jimin presses his pelvis down, using both him and you to squeeze his slick-hardened cock.
Jimin moans with you, still molding your lips together as he holds you close to him. When the two of you calm down from the euphoric sensations, he places his forehead against yours. He looks down at you with soft and serene eyes. Filled with love and adoration. This new sense of energy and vulnerability flows through him.
It’s happiness he shares with you when you both shyly smile at another. Ignoring all the heated labor breathes and dampened hairlines. You get lost in his eyes, wishing that the crisp amber coloring is the solution to all your worries and problems. And in some ways – they are.
“I love you.”
Jimin speaks calmly as he declares his emotions for you. His lips press into yours once more to seal his statement.
You can’t help but look up at him with watery eyes. You want to burst into a full blown cry when you see the way his eyes glisten too, but you don’t. Not wanting to spoil the moment of sincerity for either of you.
“I love you too,” you respond as you brush strands of fringe away from his softening face. It’s almost long enough to tuck behind his ear, which you scowl when you watch the piece fall right back in his face.
You share a soft chuckle with him as he moves slowly, making sure to not spread the mess on your stomach everywhere.
“I’ll clean us up and we can go back to resting for a bit.”
“Okay,” you smile softly. Your hands begin to cover yourself the further Jimin pulls away from your body. 
Jimin is quick to find a feasible cloth from the corner of the room and just as fast to return to you on the bed. He wipes you off first, as he should, before cleaning himself. He kneels down on the mattress as you try to subtly admire his entire naked body. Realizing he is still so unfairly beautiful without the suited armor and clothing he usually wears.
“I should have you know, now that you’re awake…” he huffed a laugh. Jimin slides himself under the covers, meeting your body with his. His arm crosses over your torso, hand running down the other side of you until he pulls you close by the waist. “Your family is safe. We defeated the threat last night and your castle will undergo some reconstruction from the damages. But everything is maintained again. I’m sure we will have to return within the day.”
The news makes you happy. The outcome could have been far worse in many ways. But hearing these words from Jimin is comforting. It makes you proud and grateful for him. You aren’t sure what the future will bring. How this dreamy secret must never be spoken about. What this could all mean now. But what you do know, is that he loves you too, and that is enough for now.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Moodboard credit: @/kth1
Tumblr media
© 2023 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.
556 notes · View notes
namfinessed · 5 months
Text
i have died - p.jm.
Tumblr media
genre: angst, mild fluff (7.1k) royal au! (mentions of blood, fighting and all information might not be accurate to history.)
summary: jimin knows his queen has a heart, he's known it since he set eyes on her, even if rumours whispered that she was cold, calculated, merciless, jimin held on, his queen had a heart.
masterlist
-
to be a queen, was to be powerful, they said.
it was to be graceful yet stern, commanding but caring, soft but strong, beautiful but not so much, that it took away from your strength.
to be a queen, was to be miserable, you said.
you sat on your throne, with the burden of the world on your shoulders and not a touch from someone else to cure it or take it away. your arms stayed firmly on your lap as you tried to concentrate on your advisor’s words.
“war is upon us, your majesty, everyone’s saying it.” he gestured to the court filled with old men, greedy old men who were waiting for you to slip up.
“on what basis, did you make this conclusion?” you tried to stay calm, even if a shiver went down your spine and your hands started sweating.
you knew war was going to descend on your kingdom any day now, your parents warned out about it when you were still a kid, you had been preparing for this your whole life, but it didn’t stop the nightmares, chills, or fear. war would devastate your kingdom, it would run your people and resources dry and as the queen, you were expected to stop this devastation.
“do you not see what is happening in your kingdom, your majesty?” one of the old men sneered at you as their hands tweaked their mustaches and your patience almost gave out.
beside you, your general, park jimin, tightened his hand on his sword, ready to slay the man on your command. you lift a hand in his direction, showing a sliver of your patience, and he brings his hand back down.
“i do know about the riots and the grains,” you started, leaning forward, “i also know about the affairs.” you stared pointedly at the old man, whose eyebrow started sweating as you stood up.
“be careful with how you speak to me, or i will not hesitate to tie you up and throw you in the middle of a bloody riot.” you stormed out of the room with park jimin hot on your tail, concealing his smile and an audible hush resounded around you as you walked out to the barren land.
you weren’t known as the heartless queen for no reason, you were merciless, with whomever you deemed deserved to be treated that way and you knew it wasn’t fair, but as a queen, you could care less about being fair.
“should i ready the swords, your majesty?” jimin spoke and you nodded, turning and disappearing into a room to change. you hastily undid the layers of clothing you wore, feeling more and more air enter your chest as you stood naked in front of the long mirror covering the wall.
scars from many wars ago littered your chest, thighs, and arms, you wanted to pile on all the layers of your clothing back on your beaten body.
you pushed the layers away instead, a queen shouldn’t worry about battle scars, she should celebrate them. you got your armor and boots on, feeling better when everything was covered, and stepped out.
but a sight made you stop in your tracks.
across the practice field, were two lovers, oblivious to the world, hiding away from the world under a sheer curtain, the women were holding back their smiles as they stroked each other’s cheeks, leaning into each other but leaning away, as if a magnetic pushed them close and far. one of them reached out and kissed the other’s cheek, your hand instinctively reached to your cheek, unconsciously patting the area.
never a kiss.
never has a kiss ever touched your skin.
never has a touch from someone you loved, left a ghost on your skin, like your scars did.
across the practice field, jimin’s worried eyes saw your hands stroking your cheeks, his gaze followed your line of sight to see the poorly concealed lovers, his heart twisted as he watched you push your hands away and a grimace fell on your face. jimin had never seen a smile on his queen’s face but with the role you had, he knew you didn’t have much to smile about.
“your majesty, they are ready!” he yelled, capturing your attention, away from the lovers who brought tears to your eyes. your eyes snapped to his and the vulnerability disappeared, a hardness settled in them again and jimin wished that he let you stay lost in your vulnerability for a little more.
you grabbed your sword and protective gear, struggling to put on the headpiece as you always did, jimin stepped up and snapped it into place, it was the only thing you let him do for you.
and jimin looked forward to it every day.
you fell into a rhythm, jimin was a formidable opponent, never letting you be distracted for too long, which was relieving. the sounds of swords clanging, boots kicking the sand up, and heavy breathing drowned out everything else for you.
your eyes stayed laser-focused on jimin’s movements, they were natural, clean, and sharp, and so were his father’s.
you had known jimin your whole life when he was still just a kid and learning from his father, who was your father’s general, when he followed his mom around, who followed your mum around.
his parents weren’t alive now, nor were yours.
someday, you were ten years old, your parents had left for another town and never returned, and you had to be a queen while still not understanding what death was and why it had taken your parents, jimin’s parents protected you until an unknown disease took the two of them as well.
jimin’s sword hit yours, bringing you back to the present, where you had no one to love nor protect but jimin did, jimin always knew he would protect you.
you swung back, twisting your leg to bend and hit the armor covering his stomach, he recoiled at the contact and you smirked underneath your headgear. this continued, you played the dance of defense and offense, and soon, you ripped the headpiece to force some air into your body.
“i’ll be going now.” you walked out, without looking back and jimin nodded, dropping his sword, wordlessly watching you leave.
somewhere, between being a queen while still being a child and losing everyone you loved, you had forgotten to care for another person, and between protecting you since he was a teenager and losing everyone he loved, jimin had only grown more determined to care with all the heart in him.
that was the difference between you and jimin, you lost your heart and he gained a second one. and naturally, you two never spoke anymore but jimin had always wanted to tell you about his second heart, that it beat for you, even if it meant that his head would be at the end of your sword.
-
the talk of war kept spreading throughout the kingdom and your palace became louder, so did your heartbeat in your ears, so did your sword hitting jimin’s, and so did your internal cries for help.
you marked the map as you circled it, checking entries, exits, and secret pathways that could leave you vulnerable to the enemies.
“seal the exits, don’t allow goods transport till the next week, we will put up announcements when it can be resumed, station two guards at every secret route and give them our best guns, station one guard at each entry and exit, make sure meals reach them from time-to-time and distribute palace supplies to the people, without good transport, they won’t be making money” commands flowed easily out of you, you took every advisor’s bullshit advice and decided to ignore it at all, you came up with the most efficient plan you could.
“should we seal them tonight, your majesty?” jimin stepped forward and you nodded, “tonight would be best, we have to protect ourselves before we regret it. and later, i need to discuss battle strategies with you, keep that in mind.” jimin bowed to you and stepped back as the advisors argued with you.
he watched with a smirk as you calmly explained how miserable their plans were, he watched as you put all of them in their places and left the room, leaving the air of your power lingering in the room.
“she’s just as arrogant as her father” the same old man who had questioned your knowledge of the kingdom in the court, turns his nose up with a nasty sneer on his face. jimin feels his skin start to burn in anger when he hears the noises of agreement from the others.
“she’s even worse, at least her father was a capable ruler, she’s just arrogant and nothing else,” another one adds with a smirk, and everyone laughs at the comment, jimin wonders how you hold onto your patience with these men.
“she’s not even beautiful enough to be arrogant, did you see the scars covering her arms? no wonder she isn’t married” they continued to add snide comments, sipping their drinks and doing everything but be the advisors they are.
a slam on the wooden table startles them all, liquid jumping out of their cups and onto the floors, they all turn to see jimin’s eyes burning holes into them as his hands twitch on the table.
“one more word about our queen and i will personally wield the sword that chops your necks off.” jimin says calmly, though his fury is poorly contained. the advisors quirked an eyebrow at him, “who do you think you are? you are a general, not the queen’s lapdog, behave.”
another one piped up to reprimand him, “you are no one to lay a hand on any of us, learn your place, or we will make you.”
a dark chuckle bubbled out of jimin as he quickly realized if given the chance, he would take the lives of everyone in this room in a heartbeat, “my place is to serve her, so if i ever lay a hand on you, it wouldn’t be for me, it would be for my queen.”
the advisors grew wide-eyed at the storm-like fury that brewed in jimin’s eyes as he stared at them, jimin was known to be kind, friendly, and sweet around the court, but seeing him this way, had them all clearing their throats and looking away as a sheen of fear covered their faces, their eyes flickered from jimin to the sword that rested on his hips.
it would only take him a minute to kill them all and that knowledge had all of them gulping for air.
outside the room, you held your hand to your chest as a long breath released out of you, you never left since you heard the first comment from your advisors and even if it wasn’t supposed to hurt you, it did.
and you knew jimin didn’t have to say anything, you knew he could’ve just left the room, this was the first time anyone had ever stood beside you and not against you.
jimin opened the doors to see you beside them, eyes gazing up at him with concealed fondness, your face stayed cold and distant but jimin noticed the tiniest curve of your lips.
he remembers how you used to smile as a kid, wide and with teeth, dimples curved in as you ran around the palace, having your maids chase you around, he remembers the first time you had talked to him.
“get the swords ready, general.” you rush out of the area, leaving jimin a little startled but without another word, he follows you.
-
the sounds of your swords clanging brought you peace, as your chest slowly started to loosen up, though you had to admit that your focus wasn’t great, your eyes kept flickering to catch glimpses of jimin, hidden under his protective gear and your mouth kept opening to say something.
“you didn’t have to stand up to them, park jimin” you muttered, just loud enough for jimin to hear and his movements paused.
so, you had heard.
he was wishing that you hadn’t.
“i know, your majesty.” his arms lifted his sword again, but dropped it as soon as your sword hit the ground.
“then, why would you do it?” you hated the tremor in your voice, it was so unlike you, so unlike a queen.
“i don’t know, but i can’t think of anything else i would’ve done at the moment,” he removed his headpiece to see you, to see what you felt about his words.
you nodded with uncertainty, you expected him to say that as your general, it was his duty to defend you, you hadn’t expected anything more than that.
“i appreciate it,” you said breathily and jimin nodded back, his cheeks attaining a flush from both the cold wind gushing around you and also from your words.
i would do it again, by the way, even if my life is on the line.
he felt the urge to tell you as you turned away but then his eyes caught the royal emblem etched on your armor and he swallowed his words.
“i wasn’t always like this, general, i think you know that.” tears, that you couldn’t stop, lined your eyes as you thought back to the child that you were and the world that you had to grow up in, and jimin felt his chest fill with sorrow because he knew so well, knew more than you thought he did. “i know, your majesty, i know.”
you straightened your shoulders, any trace of vulnerability escaping your body as your advisors passed the field, all of their eyes analyzing and judging you.
“we still have to discuss those strategies, come.”
-
the rest of the night, you went over your defenses again and again, eyes catching fleetingly, accidentally, and then returning to the table with flushed cheeks, jimin was delighted to be so close, yet so far, from you.
and each time, your eyes met, you felt your heart beating again, you felt yourself wanting to say things that had nothing to do with the maps spread out in front of you.
“we knew each other before all this, didn’t we, park jimin?” before you became a queen, before you owned a kingdom, jimin was present in your distant memory, “you gave me flowers.” he smiled at you, images of your younger self flashing brightly in his mind.
“no! that can’t be true, general” a smile of disbelief curved on your face, you never looked at flowers, you couldn’t imagine any part of you that would gift someone flowers.
“oh, but you did, your majesty” jimin cheekily replied, making you shake your head and look away from him, trying to remember a time when you weren’t a queen.
but jimin remembers too clearly, how you had met, how your hands touched him for the first time, when it was all innocence and warmth.
it had been a hot, summer day.
jimin’s mother was busier than usual. it was the princess’s birthday and the entire palace was geared up to celebrate it grandly.
but jimin wasn’t happy at all. his eyes were hurting from the tears he had cried, his cheeks were firing up with heat as his body burned.
he was sicker than he had ever been and his mother couldn’t take care of him, her own eyes were filled with tears that she couldn’t take care of her child but she had duties to fulfill.
jimin sat in the garden, sniffling and pulling grass, refusing to listen to his mother’s request to stay inside as his cheeks puffed up with defiance.
then, he heard soft giggles falling from the corridors into the lonely garden.
he turned to see the princess, her hand in the queen’s, her other hand gripping tightly onto freshly picked jasmines, as she walked merrily, it was her birthday after all. and even as a kid, jimin couldn’t look away from the princess.
she was a joy to see, a joy to hear.
when the princess turned to look at him, to look at sad, pouty jimin, sitting by himself, picking the grass with tear-stained cheeks, jimin wouldn’t have guessed that she would run over to him. he wouldn’t have guessed that she would take the jasmines in her hand and place them above his ears.
“flowers are happy, you should be happy.” you had told him, with a dimpled smile, staring at him for a few seconds before running back to your mother, but he watched as you looked back at him till you left the corridor.
jimin felt the traces of love bloom in his heart for the first time.
now, he sees you, so tough and powerful and as his queen, but he remembers too well how you used to be and jimin fell for you then, unfortunately for him, he hadn’t gotten back up.
at some point in the night, the sleeves on your dress ride up and your eyes widen as you push them back down, you hurriedly look up to see if jimin has seen anything, you wait to see if his face twisted in disgust, but jimin only smiles, “you are so strong, your majesty. i wish i was more like you.”
he doesn’t speak about your tears.
or your scars.
or the fear on your face.
you know that he notices it all, but he doesn’t say a word.
you didn’t know that even if you weren’t the queen of the kingdom, you would still be jimin’s queen, hot or cold, kind or ruthless, heart or heartless, nothing could change that.
and jimin might have felt it when he was still a kid, but this was the first time, that something bloomed in your heart, you weren’t sure it was love, you were just sure that it was because of him.
-
weeks later, your kingdom was sealed, business halted and time as it was, didn’t move as you and your people prepared for the war.
tensions were high, and the kingdom got quieter as everyone waited for any news about their fate, you spent every minute with jimin, formulating and discussing plans that could bring you even a sliver of hope, and every minute, your heart unwillingly grew sprouts and flowers.
“hand over the kingdom to us and there will be no blood staining your land or else, your entire kingdom will drown.” your minister read the last sentence of the letter that was sent over to you that morning and you tried to resist the chill crawling on your back.
but you knew who it was from, a much more prosperous kingdom, a much more powerful kingdom with a king, not a queen, not like your weak kingdom.
you were powerful and you have won many wars but your opponent has colonized several countries at a time so realistically, your chances of surviving his quest were slim to none.
jimin eyed your tightening fists with a glint of worry and concern as your minister hung his head, solemn from the words he just read, “what do we say, your majesty?”
you knew the gravity of your decision here, you could either abandon your land and people, hand them over to a stranger, and not look back, because you knew even if you fought back, you would be weaker, you would lose.
but you also couldn’t turn your back on your people, your father and mother wouldn’t have done that, they wouldn’t have handed your people over, and they would have fought with everything they had.
sometimes, you just wish they would be beside you, gently guiding and firmly telling you what to do. sometimes, you wanted to crawl on your mother’s lap and cry until you couldn’t, sometimes, you just wanted your father’s hand on your head, telling you to be brave.
but your wishes remained wishes, hard decisions had to be solely made by you, whether you liked it or not.
“tell them, they will be the ones drowning, not us.” you feigned the confidence you knew your court needed, and seeing everyone’s face light up as their loud cheers echoed in your court, made it easy for you to say it, even if you knew it wasn’t true.
you would drown.
and never float back up.
all because you couldn’t be the queen your people needed.
you told yourself, that it was justified to give false hope to people whose hope was weathering, it was justified to lie to your court while knowing it would be gone in flames later, it was justified to fake your power for the flicker of relief that passed over their faces.
but jimin’s eyes stayed on your knuckles that turned white, your eyes that seemed dazed and he knew you were lying, his hand rested on his sword as he realized that the cheering people, were all waiting for their deaths.
-
“your majesty, a moment of your time.” jimin stayed outside the door until he heard your voice, allowing him in. you were sitting at the edge of your cot, chest heavy and breathing caught in your body.
“forgive me, your majesty, but you and i both know that you were lying.” he spoke, with confusion lacing his voice, you were always honest, you never lied for the sake of making someone feel better. “about what, general?” he didn’t recognize the strange, lifeless tone your voice had taken.
“that we are going to survive the quest.” jimin knew as much as you did, that your kingdom would be run to the ground, even if he thought you were the strongest of them all, he knew your kingdom would fall.
“we are going to survive it,” you lied through your teeth.
“we’re all going to die” jimin didn’t know why he was arguing with you, but he couldn’t help it, this was the first time his queen had lied and he needed to know why.
“oh general, i have died a long time ago” you laughed bitterly, your stomach twisting at your words, you felt sick, trapped in yourself, trapped in this palace that gave you all of the power but none of the relief that came with love. his gaze softened as, for the first time, tears flowed down your face like a river, as sobs escaped your chest without restraint, as you sunk to the floor with your hands tightly wrung the bedding.
you had died the day your parents didn’t come back, you had died when they placed a heavy crown on your tiny head as a kid, you had died when the sprinkle of someone else’s blood fell on your face, you had died when the people you fought for called you heartless.
you had died more times than you could count, one more time, even if it was for real this time, didn’t shake you at all.
it was dying without a touch of love decorating your skin, that truly scared you. you wished for a touch that wouldn’t unravel you but would hold you together, the way even a riptide, as dangerous as it is, longs for a shore to embrace, you want just a touch.
jimin should leave, his duty wasn’t this, his duty wasn’t to console a broken queen but jimin never stayed by your side as a duty, he stayed because it was where he belonged.
jimin sunk to his knees, his hands trembling to touch you, to let you lay on him and let years of your tears run down his chest, but he doesn’t want to be at the end of your sword, he wants to be at the end of your bed, watching you while you sleep and protecting you from the nightmares that plague you.
and then you surprise him.
jimin’s breath halts as he watches you reach for him, one frail hand in the air that beckons him closer and he follows wordlessly, sitting beside you and watching as your head finds his lap. you melt into his lap, fingers falling away from your body to hug his legs, a soft hum leaves your lips and jimin’s urge to protect you increases exponentially.
it's been a while since he has seen his queen be herself, and he knows as you grasp onto him for affection, that this was you finally giving up on maintaining an image, at least in front of him.
he slowly places a hand on your back, unsure if he was allowed to touch you the way you touched him, but you only bury your tear-stained cheeks into his legs and jimin relaxes, letting his hands travel on your back, his hands burned with love as he rubbed circles on your skin that coaxed more cries out of you, but this time, they weren’t out of pain, they were out of the relief of finally being touched with love.
“jimin,” you called out, so softly even if your voice dried out from the tears, so intimately that jimin wanted to curl up to you and forget everything else, “yes?”
no general.
no park jimin.
just jimin.
“i didn’t lie because i wanted to, the kingdom will die long before the war gets here, if i don’t lie, they need to hold onto something as we go into the war, they need to believe that they can survive to even fight.” and jimin sees it, the heart that your people denied that you had, you had thought of them before anything else and he smiles to the ceiling.
“after everything goes, you will be remembered as the greatest ruler our kingdom has ever seen,” he speaks sincerely, as his hands caress the lengths of your hair, which lulls you, your heart warms but you know it wasn’t true, “no one would remember me.”
“i would, in death and life, i will.”
you hadn’t expected to be satisfied with his answer but somehow, that was more than enough of you.
you always wished for a touch to make you feel loved, to make you feel anything but jimin’s words alone held you together and for the first time, you bore a heart that was heavier than you were, a heart that dragged you down, pulled you down and forced you to accept its size.
and you loved the enormity of affection you felt, especially that it was for the man who held you so gently even if he had seen you at your strongest.
“your majesty, i have a confession.”
“i think i know what you are going to say,” you might not have cared for other people, but you did notice things, you noticed the lingering looks jimin would give you, the smile that would grow on his face whenever you put your advisors in their place, the way his tone changed to something softer only when he talked to you, you had noticed it all.
you felt the same, maybe not as long as he had, but melted against him, you knew you wouldn’t feel this way for anyone else, except the person who stood by and protected you for so long.
“but if you allow me, i still want to say it.” you peered up from his lap with an amused smile, your general was more romantic than you had thought him to be, and jimin hadn’t thought your smile could be any more beautiful than it was in his dreams, but it was.
“you are allowed,” you face him, cheeks flushing and hands trapping his, “i love you, i’ve loved you since i knew what love was.”
you were only just learning love, as your skin touched his, as you sunk further into him, as you felt cocooned by his presence, as you felt his unwavering love for you through his touch but even if it was just now, you knew you felt the same.
but you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, as a queen, were you allowed to profess love for someone else? with a war approaching, did you deserve to love as your kingdom ran to devastation?
you couldn’t say it, you couldn’t allow yourself the luxury.
you just nudged further into jimin’s body, squeezing his hand as a silent way of professing, ‘i feel the same, in my heart that’s beating after a long time, i feel what you do and i will tell you, i will tell you soon.’
jimin sighs in relief, his skin growing warm as your hands desperately try to tell him what your mouth can’t and he allows his body to drape over you, hands caressing your dress and brushing your hair away from your cheeks.
“i understand, my queen, i will wait.”
-
that night, everything changed for you, you had felt so defeated before the war even started but here you were, days later, hitting swords with jimin once again, a new kind of determination drummed in your attacks, you had to win the war, you had to be with jimin.
“your majesty, i’m afraid you are getting distracted,” jimin teases you as his sword nears your throat, with an amused scoff, you pull back to drag your sword on the ground and drive it up to the back of his head, “apparently, not as much as you, general.”
you both spent every quiet night together, in each other’s arms, in each other’s words and he professed his love to you every single day, even if you didn’t say it back, and he reminded you that your heart hadn’t died, it had just hidden away, but he certainly had wedged himself into it and it seemed to you that he would never leave.
jimin raises his sword in surrender, a chuckle leaving his lips once he sees you grin widely at his defeat.
“you are enjoying this too much,” he tuts at you, “i’m still your queen, jimin” you playfully scold him and he rolls his eyes at you, “and i’m still your general, your majesty.” he tips his invisible hat with a shit-eating grin and leaves you, flustered in the middle of the ground as he walks away to greet some new members of the army.
what was this feeling that consumed you, as your eyes refused to look away from his retracting figure?
a fluttering sense of calm danced around you, your usually restless heart had taken a steady, loud rhythm and you loved the world right now.
you felt as if everything was alright, as if the skies were always blue, as if the flowers always bloomed, as if you could fight a war and win it, just to keep this moment alive.
“your majesty!” a shrill voice broke your dreamy thoughts, and your head snapped to see your minister rushing down the hallway to reach you. you hold your arms over his shoulders to steady him as he breathes heavily.
“careful, minister.” he shook his head at your words, eyes pinching shut as he panted.
“they’ve gotten in, your majesty.”
and just like that, the feeling of victory faded from you.
“what are you talking about?” you couldn’t recognize how tight your voice sounded, how your hands twitched involuntarily to your sword, and how the air in your chest knocked out of you.
not now.
not so soon.
“we sealed every exit, minister, that is not possible” you desperately tried to dissuade what he was trying to tell you, he solemnly shook his head, “one of our own turned on us, they gave them entry into our kingdom, and several civilians were beheaded just a few minutes.”
your blood boiled.
for a minute, your eyes saw complete red as your hands shook beside your body, “how many, minister?” your voice didn’t contain your fury, nor your heartbreak.
“hundred and twelve, as of now, your majesty.”
in that minute, you knew you could slay an entire kingdom if you wanted to, you knew that if you were let loose, not a single soldier would be able to keep up with you. your people were supposed to be the last ones to get hurt, you were supposed to be protecting them and you failed.
“i’m assuming, the traitor has been caught?”
“yes, your majesty.” your minister’s eyes widened in fear as you pulled your sword out, “show him to me.”
-
that night, you scrubbed someone else’s blood off your face, and frustrated tears lined your eyes but the red never seemed to disappear, as you kept washing, more and more took its place, and soon, you gave up on getting it off, you had to accept that a part of you will always be stained with their blood.
the blood served as a reminder of the people you couldn’t save.
you had spent the evening, preparing for the war that would start tomorrow, it was finally declared by your opponent in another mocking letter, and providing aid to the families who lost their loved ones, each of their cries rang loudly in your ears even if hours passed.
water droplets dripped down your face as you sat once again, defeated before the war began, at the edge of your bed, but this time, a knock at your door filled you with relief.
jimin came in, exhausted as well, but his eyes zeroed on the red covering your arms and face, without a word, he took a washcloth, dipped it in water, and sat beside you.
his fingers nudged your hair away from your face and slowly, patiently, patted the blood away, shushing you as you broke down in tears in the middle.
that night ended in jimin’s arms, with a clean face and a lighter heart.
both of you didn’t know what would happen the next day, you just knew that you had to survive for each other.
-
“line up!” jimin’s yell filled the courtyard and all the soldiers jogged across it to surround him, “you all are aware, going in today, of the severity of the situation and what it could lead to, but i trust that my soldiers will still give their best, we all have homes to return to, keep that in mind. let it serve as a motivation for you to win this, help your fellow soldiers, and keep your focus.”
all of them were nervous, all of them had left home saying their final goodbyes to their families in case they never returned, but all of them also believed in their general and his words, rapid nods came as a response from them and they started preparing themselves mentally.
jimin gestured for them to move along and they all started embracing each other, comforting words poured into the space and they soon moved away to disperse.
in your changing room, your hands slid down the scars that covered you, after today, you were sure there were going to be even more, but somehow, you didn’t mind it as much. your maids placed the armor on you, tightening it around your body and you bit back a groan.
you didn’t know how many more of these wars you could fight.
suddenly, they all shuffled away, leaving the room, causing you to turn around, confused at their actions, only to see jimin entering the room.
“i don’t know why they ran away,” he said with comically raised eyebrows and you bit back a grin, “i’m sure they must have seen you leave my quarters in the morning.” his head fell back with a laugh as he stepped closer to you.
“that can’t be, i’m so discreet, like a ninja, you know?” you rolled your eyes at him, “you broke three vases just two days ago, jimin.” he kissed your temple as another laugh bubbled out of him, “maybe i’ll learn along the way.”
“maybe you will.”
you sighed as both of your smiles slipped, there was no telling if there was a way anymore but believing that there was, it was all you could do.
“how are the soldiers?” your eyes bore into his similar, armor-clad body that came up behind you in the mirror.
“just right, your majesty, don’t worry.” his arms came up to wrap around your body and your hands rested on his arms, a shuddering breath left your mouth as the gravity of today settled in even more.
maybe there won’t be a way, maybe you will never get to hold jimin like this again.
“before we go jimin, i want to tell you, like all of them, you have me, a home and i need you to come back for me,” that was the closest you could get to professing your love, your words were pleading, begging, even if your face was passive. jimin shakes his head, his hair rubbed onto your neck as he exhaled, “we both need to come back, i’m not letting this end here.”
after minutes passed of just being enveloped in each other’s warmth, you wished you could just ignore the war and stay in this room forever, with jimin, you wished you could ignore the possibility of losing him but the loud roars of your soldiers marching to the battlefield reminded you of who you were doing all of this for.
you were the queen, jimin was the general, and both of you had duties that couldn’t keep you locked in this room.
so, with a pained heart and arms that longed for each other even if only seconds passed, you both parted to step away from each other.
jimin reached for your headgear, taking his time to brush your hair and slip it on your head, the one thing you always let him do for you and you held back your tears as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. you reached for his hands and kissed the back of them, your tears soon fell on them and jimin’s resolve started breaking.
but he sniffed, pushing himself away and wiping your tears, “are you ready, my strongest queen?” he held out his hand with a wide, albeit painful smile on his face.
you put your hand in his, trying to stay strong, “whenever you are, general.”
and as you two stepped out, the warmth of his skin spread on you, his head dipping down to give you one final smile that was filled with his ever-growing love.
you felt scared that you might never see it again.
“i love you, your majesty.”
i love you unbelievably more.
“there will be a royal wedding to get ready for after this, be prepared, general.”
-
jimin winced as sand clouded his vision, he swung his sword aimlessly, hoping to catch his opponent, his ears were ringing from all the screams of agony around him, and when the blood splattered on his face, another scream rang much louder in his ear, causing him to look away.
another soldier who wouldn’t go home.
he whipped his head around, trying to catch sight of you in the midst of all the chaos, and after ducking and running under everyone around him, while slaying whoever he could in the way, he finds you.
a soldier fell at your feet and you took a huge breath, while looking around, only to catch jimin’s impressed face, you both smiled at each other, with red dripping down on your faces.
there was a chance.
you could win this and go back home to each other.
but soon, jimin got pushed into the chaos, and another, darker cloud of sand dusted across his face, forcing him to stand straight and attack again. he couldn’t see you again but he knew you were giving it your all, so he busied himself.
only a few more.
and he would be back with you.
-
they told him that you killed the most.
that you had fought bravely, and led your kingdom to victory.
that you were the queen that they would love and celebrate, even if centuries pass.
but how could jimin love and celebrate you, when he couldn’t hold you in his arms?
when your body was carried into the palace, it had taken everything in jimin to not set the entire palace on fire. to him, a palace without you, alive and breathing life into the building, was not a palace at all.
people held him when he cried, when he wanted to drive his sword into himself, when he would try to shake your body back to life, when he wouldn’t move away from your body, people put their arms around him and tried to lift him up.
but none of them could console him, all the promises you both had dreamed about vanished in front of his eyes and he blamed every single one of them, if they weren’t so harsh on you, if they didn’t call you heartless, you wouldn’t fight till death to prove that you did indeed have a heart, that you indeed had the biggest one.
jimin didn’t have too long to mourn, soon, the heavy crown was positioned on his head, they told him that it was your last request for him to look after the kingdom you had left behind, and once it was on him, he realized the weight you carried around your whole life, since you were only a kid.
they pulled all kinds of royal clothes on him, the materials itched, they burnt his skin, and the gold threads dug into his neck, as if the clothes were his own prison.
as he was made king, the kingdom rejoiced, they were finally getting a king, a true ruler, in their words, and jimin laughed in all their faces, their history would only have one true ruler, and it was you. no one could do what you did.
the throne felt wrong to jimin, as if he didn’t belong, but he knew this was what you wanted for the kingdom you loved so dearly, and jimin would always serve your needs.
he wished, as you had, for you to come and hold him when he had hard decisions to make, he wished to melt into your lap one last time to feel the warmth that ran away from him, he wished that you were right beside him, gently guiding and caring for him.
but he was left with only the ghost of your touch, that would forever haunt him.
jimin still got up every day, he put on the heavy crown and the irritating clothes and listened to the same blubbering idiots, the way you had, and he tried his best to be the ruler you were.
but at night, he crumbled away, dreaming of your touch and your love as he hugged your headgear closer.
jimin’s dreams remained dreams.
214 notes · View notes
bebejungkook · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
‧✧̣̇‧ Kissing Snowflakes teaser
‧✧̣̇‧ Pairing: Jimin x Reader
‧✧̣̇‧ Genre: Daycare worker!Jimin & reader, angst, fake dating au, coworkers to lovers au
‧✧̣̇‧ Summary: You’ve always dreaded Christmas with your family, you have always been in your cousins shadow, being compared to her beauty and social ways. But this year will be different, this year you’re bringing a date that will make you the talk of the party. The only problem is, you’re single as hell. Fortunately for you, your sweet and handsome coworker, Park Jimin, owes you a favor. Unfortunately for him, he’s in love with you and doesn’t know if he can handle pretending to be yours.
‧✧̣̇‧ Warnings: 18+ jealous and insecure y/n, y/n cousin is a big ole bitch, mentions of past cheating, y/n cries, jimin gets upsetti, toxic family, drinking alcohol, y/n overthinks like crazy.
Tumblr media
“I want you to be my boyfriend.”
Jimin almost chokes on the baby biscuits, which makes him wonder if these were safe at all, or he’s just trying to distract himself from getting too excited. You look uncharacteristically serious and he won’t let his heart get ahead of itself since nothing about you was ever predictable. Instead he grabs another biscuit and asks you to repeat yourself.
Just to make sure he heard right, he swears you said you wanted him to be your boyfriend.
“I want you to be my boyfriend.”
You smile as if you didn’t just make all of Jimin’s dreams come. He blushes and smiles, his whole world just turned into roses and sunshines. The lullabies in the background sound as clear as ever, a beautiful score for the start of your relationship.
“Ok, not a real boyfriend, a fake one!”
Oh.
The disappointment is clear in Jimin's expression but you don’t really notice, your plan is too clear in your head and you feel like a villain finally getting their character arch. You don’t see Jimin's world crashing down and burning. He’s quiet so you continue talking.
“Every year my stupid—“
“Language.” Your aid reminds you even though they’re all sleeping.
“My clown family always Interrogates me, it’s always, where’s your boyfriend, when are you quitting your job, and why can’t you be like your cousin,” The annoyance is clear in your pout and Jimin wonders if it might be worse than you let on.
“But this year when they see someone like you with me, they’ll see I’m totally worthy and leave me alone!”
He won’t unpack how messed up that whole sentence was, not now at least. Jimin’s a little heartbroken but at least with this arrangement, he’ll be able to see you more outside of work. He also wouldn’t mind not being alone on Christmas for once. He only really sees one con but for you, he’ll pretend his heart isn’t on the line.
“So what do you say?” You break him out of his thoughts with an eager smile that was borderline maniacal.
“I guess I do owe you.” He bites his lip in contemplation even though he already knew his answer.
“So yes?” Your round shiny eyes are his kryptonite, he just can’t say no when you look at him so adorably.
“Yes— yes I’ll be your fake boyfriend.” You muffle your squeal and hug him across the baby gate like he’s always dreamt you would.
Jimin doesn’t know what he got himself into, he just hopes his heart is in one piece at the end of this.
Tumblr media
My first Jimin one shot 🫰🏽 how are we feeling besties? It’s almost Christmas and I’m excited!!! Anyways, let me know if you want to be tagged🖤
Love, Che
1K notes · View notes
holdinbacksecrets · 6 months
Note
hello friend! i have a tiny request 🥺 can you create a fake chat for BTS maknae line?
idea: the member’s crush is avoiding them out of jealousy and they cannot take it.
PS. saranghae 🫶
my love! thank you for requesting 🥺🫂🫂 only one of these is really giving avoidance + i’d say they’re more complex than just a crush, but i hope you still enjoy them all! i love you!
happy birthday jimin 🩵
maknae line: you’re jealous
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
163 notes · View notes
kingofbodyrolls · 7 months
Text
39,5°C (Fever) (m) | pjm
Tumblr media
Thank you to everybody who follows, either for my own fics or my recs - it's much appreciated and means so much to me 🥹 So, for my 100th follower milestone, I give you this; I hope you like it 💜
Pairing: Jimin x reader (female, “Y/N”)
Genre/AU: Established relationship, non idol!au, pwp, smut, fluff if you squint
Rating: mature/explicit/R18
Word count: 6,2K
Summary: When you get sick you want three things; rest all day, eat your comfort food and have as many orgasms as you can.
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings/tags: Explicit smut in the form of, masturbation (female), fingering, nipple sucking/play, unprotected penetration (they are in an established relationship, but please use protection irl), some cock warming, a lot of orgasms, fucking while sick, OC is so fucking needy and desperate and Jimin just wants to please her.
This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.
Main masterlist. Cross-posted to Ao3.
Tumblr media
Morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues as you slowly roused from sleep. 
Blinking away the remnants of dreams, you stretched languidly, only to realize that the warmth next to you, Jimin, was absent. 
Confusion furrowed your brow, a dull ache throbbing at your temples. It was as if your mind was wading through a fog, struggling to piece together the events leading up to this moment.
A damp sensation beneath you snapped your senses awake. 
Panic fluttered in your chest as you registered the wetness on the bed. 
Your skin prickled with discomfort, a blend of clammy sweat and shivers that chased each other up and down your spine. Hot and cold sensations mingled, creating a disorienting dance across your flesh. Your body trembled and you felt a surge of arousal run to your core, a telltale sign of a fever. 
A hand to your forehead confirmed your suspicions - heat radiated from your skin, the feverish touch undeniable. The realization sent a sinking feeling through you, an unwelcome interruption to your routine. 
You contemplated checking your temperature, not just to provide a concrete reason for your absence from work, but also to validate the intensity of what you were experiencing.
With a resigned sigh, you fumbled for the thermometer, its cool surface a stark contrast to your fevered skin. 
As you watched the numbers climb, anxiety held its breath alongside you. 39,5 degrees Celsius glared back, a glaring testament to your body’s turmoil. ‘Yikes’ barely covers the magnitude of this fever, the word echoing like an alarm in your mind.
Reluctantly, you reached for your phone, fingers dancing over the screen to dial your workplace. 
Explaining your condition to your boss felt like admitting defeat, you were rarely sick, a palpable sensation of vulnerability washing over you. The conversation passed in a blur, your voice sounding distant even in your own ears as you negotiated the details of your sick leave.
Once the call ended, you were left with the weight of the day ahead - or rather, the weight of what wouldn’t be. You really love your damn office job. Resignation settled in as you acknowledged that rest was your sole agenda. 
This was no mere inconvenience; it was a mandate from your own body, an uncompromising insistence on self-care.
Your thoughts drift through a dense fog, each one a weighty presence that seems to slow time itself. 
Amidst this mental haze, a singular desire emerges, commanding your attention like a beacon in the darkness; to get off.
When you get sick, you’re out of commission, but Jimin possesses remarkable resilience, bouncing back from ailments with an almost enviable speed. He might slow his pace a tad, yet he’s soon up and running again, his vigor only temporarily dimmed. 
However, your own journey through illness is an entirely different narrative. When illness casts its shadow upon you, it’s as if the world grinds to a halt - a relentless fog that blankets your thoughts and body. 
You only want three things really; rest all day, eat your comfort food and have as many orgasms as you can.
It’s a craving that rises like a tempest, demanding to be acknowledged. 
The desire for intimacy, for the warmth and connection that only your boyfriend can provide, becomes a beacon in the haze of your illness. It’s a need that fluctuates in intensity, an ebb and flow that mirrors the unpredictable nature of your symptoms. 
In a daze, you squeeze your thighs together while dirty fantasies run through your mind.
Determinedly, you set your sights on the first craving: a day of uninterrupted rest. 
As the world outside continues its bustling rhythm, you cocoon yourself in a cocoon of blankets, the soft embrace of your bed a sanctuary from the demands of the day. A season of your cherished TV show flickers on the screen before you, its familiar characters and storylines a comforting companion in this isolated respite. 
Yet, even the most captivating narrative can’t entirely distract from the persistent itch of restlessness. As episodes blur into one another, you find your mind wandering, the confinement of your surroundings reflecting the confines of your own body. 
The hours stretch, each minute an elastic band tugging at your patience.
The promise of comfort food beckons like a siren’s call, and soon, the aromatic allure of pizza fills the room. 
You indulge in its cheesy embrace, the combination of flavors a temporary reprieve from both your physical discomfort and the monotony of your confinement. The first bite is a symphony of sensations - crisp crust giving way to a burst of savory satisfaction, a moment of bliss that lingers on your taste buds. But even indulgence has its limits. 
As the pizza slices dwindle and the ice cream follows suit, the novelty wanes, leaving behind a subtle undertone of longing. You try navigating the vast expanse of social media, but it yields little in the way of fulfillment, each swipe a fleeting encounter with curated lives that only serve to amplify the quiet void within.
Your energy reserves are far too depleted to muster the focus required for anything more substantial.
In time, you discover yourself reclined upon the bed’s embrace, solitary in Jimin’s absence, your eyes are gently shut, a willing surrender to the world’s demands, while the low sensual R&B beats of your beloved ‘dirty hoe’ Spotify playlist weave a cocoon around your senses, cradling you in a symphony of horny melodies on an endless loop. 
You rub your thighs together and get lost in the bliss of the feeling. You’ve got nothing to do. Might as well do yourself.
Your fingers glaze the top of your panties, digging deeper until you reach the spot just over your clit. 
Rubbing circles on your clothed clit, you spread your legs and throw your head back into the bed, already feeling the beginning of an arousal. You can’t help the sweet noises that escape your mouth, as you roll your hips in search of more friction. 
You press harder on your clit, imagining it’s Jimin’s hands instead of yours, knowing that he would be able to make you climax in a matter of minutes. 
Pinching your clit, you let out a high pitched moan as you feel the knot in your stomach forming. 
Images of Jimin flash before your eyes, him kissing you deliciously, fucking you like it was the last time.
Beads of sweat gather along the precipice of your hairline, a glistening testament to the fevered symphony playing out within. 
Each breath you draw is a ragged melody, a reminder of the battle your body wages against the searing heat that courses through you. You set a fast pace, rubbing mindlessly, as you pant for air. 
Almost there, you can feel it coming. 
In frustration, you pinch your clit again and come undone with a scream of Jimin’s name. 
Your body thrashes around the bed, as you come down from your climax. 
Your thoughts wade through a dizzying haze, an intricate labyrinth where clarity is but a fleeting visitor. Meanwhile, your body becomes a canvas of discomfort, a sticky and clammy landscape painted by the relentless brushstrokes of sweat. 
You register an uncomfortable wetness between your legs, and discard your soaked panties to the floor.
Your body remains a furnace, its warmth radiating through every fiber as you continue to draw breath in ragged gasps. Seeking relief, you shift onto your stomach, a desperate attempt to find a position that might offer some respite. 
Your hand gropes beneath the pillow, finding the cool touch of your phone. Fingers trembling slightly, you navigate to Instagram in pursuit of distraction, a temporary escape from the confines of your condition.
Yet, the respite is fleeting, evaporating like mist in the face of a relentless sun. Your desires surge once more, a hunger that refuses to be quelled. The allure of the digital world fades in comparison to the voracious craving that commands your attention, rendering your attempts at diversion feeble and futile.
You surrender to the tempest within, rolling onto your back as your hands traverse the landscape of your fevered body, fingers tracing the contours of your clammy skin. 
They land on your already pebbled nipples, and you give them a hard tug, moaning and rolling your hips mindlessly. 
Jimin's cotton shirt adheres to your skin like a second layer, a tactile reminder of the stickiness that has become an unwelcome companion. 
With a sudden resolve, you sit up, a surge of urgency propelling you as you shed the shirt in a swift motion, the fabric slipping away like the bonds of discomfort being cast aside.
In a matter of seconds, your hands return to your breast, cupping them like Jimin usually does. 
Your fingers run over your nipples again, and you feel a tingle run down your spine. As you tug and pinch your nipples, you imagine it’s Jimin doing it. 
The way he would lick your perked buds, occasionally giving them a light bite has your walls clenching around nothing. 
You moan, thinking about the pleasure Jimin usually delivers to you with his plush and wet tongue. 
One of your hands leaves your breast to travel down to your throbbing naked pussy. 
Spreading your legs, you find your clit and give it a few rubs. 
Your fingers glide easily, as your clit is covered in your earlier orgasm. Your fingers travel down to your folds, opening yourself up more. 
Sticking one of your fingers into your warm cunt is easy with the insane amount of arousal pooled there. 
You groan in pleasure, as you stick another finger into your clenching hole. 
Rolling your hips, you begin to fuck yourself as your other hand is pinching and tugging a nipple. 
Once more, a hazy fog blankets your thoughts, veiling your mental landscape in a disorienting mist. 
In this moment, your deepest wish unfurls - a longing for Jimin’s presence, his soothing touch, the steady rhythm of his breath and the unfaltering warmth of his embrace to tether you amidst the turbulence of your body’s rebellion. 
The feeble attempt you make to alleviate your distress pales in comparison to the soothing magic that Jimin's touch possesses. It's a stark reminder of the chasm between your efforts and his unparalleled comfort. 
Nonetheless, in this interim of absence, your makeshift remedy will have to suffice, bridging the gap between your yearning for relief and the eventual embrace of his return.
You think about Jimin fucking you with his thick cock, stretching your pussy deliciously. 
Hitting your g-spot, and thrusting into you with fervor, while his balls hit your folds. The imagination, a force as potent as it is relentless, takes hold of you with unyielding fervor, reducing the barriers between reality and desire to mere dust. 
In its wake, you sense the foundations of your resolve begin to erode, like cliffs succumbing to the relentless assault of waves. 
Squelching sounds fill the room, as you finger yourself frantically, searching for another release. 
A palpable tension simmers, coiling like a slumbering tempest just beneath the fragile surface of your composure and when the image of Jimin fucking you gets too much, you moan loudly as another orgasm coats your walls. 
Your chest rises and falls in desperate rhythms, each breath a struggle as you labor to coax your body into a state of surrender.
A gnawing sense of insufficiency takes root, an undeniable truth that settles like an ache in the core of your being. 
Compelled to fill this void, you reach for your laptop, your fingers dancing across the keyboard to unearth a video - a cherished artifact of you and Jimin. 
As the footage unfolds before you, you stick your fingers into your already drenched pussy again. 
As the symphony of sounds spills forth, a captivating crescendo that weaves through the air, your gaze becomes ensnared by the screen's luminous embrace, you fuck yourself again, while you rub your clit with your other hand.
“Ah, Y/N, you’re so tight! You’re taking me so well.” Jimin's voice pours forth, a mellifluous cascade that saturates the room, its dulcet tones mingling with the very air you breathe, a sweet intoxication that leaves you hovering on the edge of delirium, rolling your eyes while you search for yet another release. 
You add another finger into your throbbing pussy as the screen shows Jimin fucking you from behind. 
A moan leaves your lips, mixing with squelching sounds from your pussy and the obscene sounds from the laptop.
“This pussy was made for me, ah.” video Jimin says followed with a slap to your ass. 
Your pussy clenches around your fingers. Your clit is throbbing with your fast rubbing on it and you insert another finger into your cunt, finally feeling a small stretch. 
You feel your orgasm approaching rapidly, with the images of your home made porn playing before your hooded eyes unraveling you.
“Fuck! I’m coming!” and then you’re orgasming to the sound and visual of Jimin releasing inside your warm and spent pussy. 
Your body throbs with a weary cadence, each pulse echoing the exhaustion that courses through you, leaving you feeling spent, both physically and emotionally. 
The discomfort intensifies, a relentless reminder of your sticky, sweat-slicked state that clings to you like an unwelcome second skin, refusing to relent. 
You draw in ragged breaths, your lungs yearning for air as you hastily halt the video's playback, the sudden cessation of sound echoing the turbulence within your chest.
Tired, you envelop yourself in the gentle glow of the screen, as you dive into another episode of your treasured TV series. You lay in your bed, naked, with only the covers draping your legs. 
The door’s soft creak heralds Jimin’s return, his presence a soothing balm to the quietude that has wrapped itself around you. 
As his eyes fall upon your prone form nestled within the sheets, his gaze deepens with understanding - silent communication that transcends words. 
Without a syllable spoken, he knows about your illness.
A gentle smile dances at the corners of his lips, a mixture of concern and affection that paints his features. His voice, warm and tender, breaks the silence, the words like a soft caress against your weary senses. 
“How many, baby?” 
The question hangs in the air, laden with a delicate balance of worry and steadfast promise that he’s here to shoulder the burden of your discomfort alongside you.
With the mere entrance of Jimin's presence, a subtle electric current courses down the length of your spine, a tingling sensation that dances between the realms of anticipation and recognition, as you rub your thighs together and bite your lip, “Three.”
A gentle chuckle escapes from his plush lips, a melodic sound that unfurls like a whisper of warmth, as he strides toward the bed and eases down beside you, his presence a soothing balm to your discomfort.
“You know it’s a vital part of my self-care ritual whenever fever pays me a visit,” you protest, your lips pursing in a playful pout that hints at a mixture of defiance and endearing vulnerability.
“Yeah, I know about your fever horniness,” his laughter erupts with a resonant force, a vibrant symphony that reverberates through his entire being, yet his approach is marked by a smirk that dances across his lips, an alluring blend of amusement and intention.
“What do you need, baby?” 
His finger traces a tantalizing path over the sensitive expanse of your ass and thighs, each touch akin to a lightning bolt of sensation that ignites a perilous shiver, sending a cascade of exhilaration down the length of your spine. In its wake, a fresh wave of desire surges, pooling on your pussy.
A gulp tightens your throat, a visible testament to the sudden intensity of the moment, while your breath catches in your chest, a gasp that hangs in the charged air like an unspoken invitation, “Your dick and your tongue.”
“Hmmm, I don’t know,” a playful smirk graces his lips, a mischievous expression that hints at a secret understanding, as his touch traces a tantalizing path along the contours of your waist as he feels his dick throb with want.
“You started without me,” he utters the words in a mock pout, his tone a blend of teasing and longing, as his fingers dip down to your pussy with deliberate intent, trailing a path that ignites a symphony of sensations. 
You raise your hips in search of more of his touch.
“I’m sorry. But I couldn’t wait…” A frustrated whimper escapes your lips, a raw sound that encapsulates the intensity of your desires and the ache for more. 
You just want to get off again.
“I know, baby. You probably did so good by yourself, huh?” 
His gaze drinks in the contours of your naked form, an appreciative hunger that's palpable, causing goosebumps to rise like a symphony across the landscape of your skin.
“Not as good as when you touch me. I need your touch, Jimin.” 
In a voice etched with ragged urgency, you plead, the words a raw testament to the overwhelming desire that courses through you, while your lustful eyes blink rapidly, revealing the depth of your need.
He seizes a generous handful of your ass, an electrifying touch that sends shockwaves of pleasure reverberating through your being. In response, you groan, your very essence melting under the mastery of his hands, reduced to pliable putty that he molds with deliberate expertise.
You open your legs invitingly, showing him your glistening pussy, “Won’t you come taste me?”
A teasing flick of his tongue moistens his lips, a gesture loaded with an unspoken promise, as he inches closer to you, his presence a tantalizing magnetism that sends anticipation crackling through the air. 
His form hovers over yours, a suspended moment pregnant with the weight of desire and the thrill of what's to come.
“Since you asked so nicely.” 
In a voice dipped in seductive tones, he murmurs the words, a sultry invitation that hangs in the charged space between you, as he positions himself on his knees. 
The fabric of his shirt yields to his skilled fingers, sliding off his form in a fluid motion that reveals the sculpted contours of his body, each movement a declaration of intent. His bare chest emerges into view, an arresting sight that captures your gaze and holds it captive, a canvas painted with the contours of his sculpted form. 
Your eyes trace the lines of his delicious abs, his ‘Nevermind’ tattoo, a visual feast that leaves you with an insatiable hunger, and your fingers, guided by a magnetic pull, begin to explore his torso with a reverent touch.
He leans in with a calculated grace, his intent clear in the intensity of his gaze, as both of his hands find the curves of your breasts, his palms cupping them with a touch that conveys possession and longing. 
A moan of pleasure escapes your lips, a raw sound that encapsulates the exquisite sensation that courses through you, as his hands remain a source of warmth on your fevered form, a stark contrast that heightens the sensory journey. 
An involuntary surge of sensation propels your body, causing your back to arch with a fervent response, an unspoken invitation for more of his touch, as he begins to roll your nipples. 
He leans his head down, giving a nipple a quick lick before he captures it in his warm mouth. He sucks lightly at first, while he pinches your other nipple.
The melodic cadence of your sounds forms an intoxicating symphony, an improvised composition that resonates in the charged air, while a surge of arousal courses through you, electrifying your senses and heightening the fervor of the moment.
One of Jimin's hands embarks on an exploratory journey down the landscape of your body, a purposeful exploration that leads to your pussy, where his touch transforms into an unyielding grasp, squeezing your clit with a deliberate force that ignites a symphony of pleasure-pain.
You release a crescendo of uninhibited sounds, each one a testament to the exquisite sensitivity that courses through you, a maelstrom of sensations amplified by the presence of your already three orgasms.
His fingers, a skillful symphony of touch, bestow a few tantalizing rubs to your clit, a prelude to the main act that follows. 
With deliberate intent, he slides a finger into the depths of your wet pussy, each movement a rapturous dance that sends shockwaves of pleasure through your every nerve ending.
“So wet,” a chuckle, laced with both amusement and desire, escapes his lips, the room now painted with an intimate soundscape as the squelching echoes through the air. 
His single finger, a masterful conductor of sensations, explores the depths of your being, each thrust a declaration of intent that creates a symphony of pleasure only the two of you share.
He returns to his skilled ministrations sucking on one of your nipples, a sensation that unfurls like a velvet caress, while his other hand continues its purposeful exploration, working to fuck you open with a deliberate determination that merges pleasure with a heady sense of anticipation.
A surge of urgency courses through you, compelling your hips to roll with a fervent rhythm, an instinctive dance that strives to align with his thrust, seeking a nexus where desire and connection intertwine in a symphony of shared pleasure.
He skillfully introduces a second finger into the equation, his touch an intricate dance that navigates the canvas of your pussy with purposeful intent. 
His quest becomes a search for the elusive spot that ignites a cascade of sensations, a treasure trove of pleasure concealed within the intricate pathways of your body.
Your breaths escape in ragged bursts, a symphony of urgency that fills the air, each inhalation a desperate attempt to quench the growing fire within. 
As your chest heaves, you huff for air, the oxygen a lifeline that barely keeps pace with the tumultuous pace of your desires, all while a knot of anticipation tightens in the pit of your stomach, a tangible reminder of the impending climax.
A third finger joins the symphony of sensation, a deliberate intrusion that causes your pussy to clench around him, an involuntary reaction that amplifies the intensity of the moment. 
The palpable tightness he encounters tells him that you're teetering on the precipice of release, a knowledge that fuels his own desire.
With the dexterity born of desire, his free hand embarks on an exploratory journey, seeking out your other breast with a determined touch. 
His fingers dance with a skilled grace, deftly rolling its nipple, each movement a calculated rhythm that weaves an intoxicating tapestry of sensations, a tactile duet that resonates through your being.
“It’s so good, Jimin!” a gasp, unfiltered and primal, escapes your lips, the sound a testament to the exquisite pleasure that courses through you, as you endeavor to arch your back, an instinctual response that seeks to press your body into the electrifying path of his touch.
A low, reverberating hum escapes his lips, a resonant vibration that sends ripples of pleasure through your breast, the intimate connection between his mouth and your body forging a sensory bridge that defies words. 
Meanwhile, his fingers continue their masterful dance, striking your elusive spot with a relentless rhythm that sets your senses ablaze with each deliberate touch.
You feel it coursing through your body like a surge of electric intensity, each nerve ending awakening in a symphony of sensation. 
Your toes curl involuntarily, a physical manifestation of the overwhelming pleasure that radiates from within. 
Your hands seize Jimin's hips with a fervent grip, an anchor in the tempest of ecstasy as you succumb to the cascade of release, a moan escaping your lips like a melody, a reverberating chord that sounds eerily like his name.
You pant, your breath a delirious cadence that echoes the crescendo of sensations that have washed over you. 
Your body basks in the radiant afterglow of a fourth orgasm, a testament to the heights of pleasure scaled throughout the day, each peak and valley etched into your memory like an intricate map of desire.
Jimin's gaze rests upon you, his eyes hooded with a potent blend of desire and satisfaction, a witness to the tableau of your body's unraveling beneath the skilled ministrations of his hands and mouth. 
In this intimate exchange, unspoken understanding flows between you, a language woven from shared pleasure and the unbreakable bond you share. 
The depth of his affection knows no bounds, a love that transcends the ordinary and propels him to the edges of devotion. For you, he's willing to traverse any distance, cross any threshold, and brave any challenge. 
His heart beats in harmony with yours, a melody of adoration that echoes through the moments you share, an unwavering testament to the lengths he'll go to ensure your happiness and well-being.
He rises onto his knees with an irresistible allure, shedding the confines of his pants and boxers in a fluid motion that unveils his already hardened dick. 
The air seems to crackle with anticipation, the atmosphere thickening as his form becomes a portrait of primal need and unabashed vulnerability.
Your tongue darts out, an instinctual gesture that moistens your lips in a silent anticipation that hangs in the charged space between you, a silent agreement forged by desire. 
“Gawd. It’s so beautiful.” 
You say, the words a sultry whisper that hangs in the air like a secret promise, a declaration of intent that sets the stage for what's to come. 
Your hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around his cock with a teasing touch, each stroke a deliberate dance that fuels the fire of desire between you.
Jimin's chuckle, a featherlight sound that dances through the charged atmosphere, becomes an auditory caress that sends shivers down your spine. 
His form hovers over you, a poised predator basking in the thrill of the chase, the air practically crackling with the intensity of his presence.
"What do you crave now, baby?" he murmurs in a voice saturated with a potent blend of desire and longing, a low timbre that wraps around the words like a silken caress, igniting a spark of anticipation in the air.
“I want to be ravished,” your hips engage in a rhythmic dance, a deliberate movement that aligns with the symphony of sensations cascading through you, while the telltale sensation of sweat prickling down your forehead adds a tactile layer to the sensory landscape, a physical manifestation of the fevered desire coursing through your veins.
“I want to cream your dick,” you breathe, the exhalation a fragile bridge between reality and reverie, as the haze of desire blankets your thoughts in a seductive shroud. 
In response, a hiss escapes Jimin's lips, a sound that teeters on the edge of restraint, a symphony of shared yearning that hangs heavy in the charged air.
“I want you to come in my pussy.” You tease, the words a playful invitation that resonates with the promise of shared pleasure, your voice a delicate melody that dances through the charged atmosphere. 
Your hands find purchase on his thighs, fingers squeezing with an artful pressure that ignites a symphony of sensation, a tactile duet that harmonizes with the unspoken desires that course between you.
Jimin's hiss echoes once more, a sound that reverberates like a whispered plea amidst the charged tension, as if his very being is ensnared within a cloud of desire and longing. 
His dick, a pulsating ache that demands attention, throbs with an insistent rhythm, a relentless reminder of the friction and release that his body craves, a symphony of need that courses through his veins.
With a firm resolve that belies the intensity of his desire, he seizes his dick in a purposeful grip, aligning it with your pussy. 
The air seems to hold its breath, a suspended moment pregnant with anticipation, the magnetic pull between your bodies poised to culminate in an explosion of shared ecstasy.
Before he gives in to the tempest of desire that surges between you, a primal force that demands satisfaction, he seizes a pillow with a thoughtfulness that speaks volumes. 
With a gentle nudge, he situates it beneath your head, a gesture that adds a layer of comfort to the impending intimacy, a reminder that amidst the flames of passion, he's attuned to your every need.
Then, in a languid dance that seems to stretch time itself, he eases into you with a deliberate slowness, his cock head parting your folds in a teasing, torturous symphony of sensation. The exquisite friction becomes a dance of pleasure and anticipation, a measured cadence that ignites every nerve ending along the way, as he navigates the delicate balance between fervor and restraint.
His dick glides into you effortlessly, aided by the slickness that envelops him, a liquid promise of pleasure that makes every inch of his entry a journey of shared ecstasy. 
As he becomes one with you, your walls embrace him with a tantalizing grip, a response that reflects the profound connection between your bodies, a fusion of desire and intimacy that transcends mere physicality.
“Ah, you’re still so tight,” 
He releases a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, a sound that escapes in a mixture of relief and surrender, as he reaches the depths of your being, a tangible joining that renders him fully immersed in the euphoria of the moment.
You savor the overwhelming fullness that finally envelops you, a sensation that satiates the craving that has persisted throughout the day. 
It's the culmination of a desire that's been building, being filled to the brim with the thickness of Jimin's dick, a union that ignites a shiver coursing down your spine, electrifying every nerve ending. As the moment unfolds, he initiates a slow retreat, a movement that draws you both through a symphony of sensations, a dance that echoes the intimacy of your connection.
He surges forward once more, a determined movement that drives him to the very hilt, his relentless desire mirrored in each of his swift thrusts. 
With a masterful touch, he discovers your hidden spot in mere moments, a revelation that sends shockwaves of pleasure through you, the intensity of the sensation causing your vision to blur as the world momentarily fades, overtaken by the overwhelming cascade of ecstasy.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he pants, the rhythm of his breath a synchrony with the fervent pace at which he fucks you, his grip on your hips an anchor that thethers you to the reality of the moment. 
His dick plunges into you with an unyielding force, a declaration of possession that melds raw passion with an unspoken promise of unity. 
He artfully guides one of your legs up, positioning it against his torso in a deliberate display of intimacy, your foot finding purchase against his neck in a sensual image. 
With this angle, he plunges into you with a newfound depth, each thrust a revelation of pleasure that leaves you breathless, the arrangement of your bodies a testament to the choreography of desire that unfolds between you.
“Ah! Jimin!” you release a breathless moan, a symphony of pleasure and vulnerability that dances on the edge of bliss, a melody woven from the rawest depths of your desire.
“I’m so fucking close,” you pant with each measured breath, caught in the intoxicating rhythm of his thrusts, a symphony of desire that leaves you gasping for air between each electrifying connection.
One of his hands embarks on a deliberate exploration, seeking out your swollen clit with an intent that radiates through his touch. The glide of his thumb becomes a source of intoxicating sensation, igniting a cascade of pleasure that courses through your body.
“Ah!” a breathless cry escapes your lips, the sound a mixture of surprise and ecstasy as the sensations wash over you, while your body responds with an instinctual arch, a graceful curve that seeks to amplify the pleasure within the constraints of the position. 
“Fuck!” the word bursts forth, nearly a scream but instead a fervent exclamation, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that courses through you. 
Simultaneously, Jimin's fingers continue their skilled dance, maintaining a tantalizing rhythm on your clit, while his dick delivers deep and forceful thrusts that threaten to unravel your senses entirely. 
With a primal scream that carries his name on its wings, your release squirts forth in a torrent, an explosion of sensation that engulfs his dick and fingers. 
The world around you dissolves into a white-hot haze, your vision momentarily obliterated by the intensity of the moment, as you pant in a frantic rhythm, each breath a lifeline that stitches you back to the reality of the room. 
The culmination of pleasure leaves you suspended in a euphoric liminality, every nerve ending aflame with the afterglow of ecstasy.
“Fuck!” Jimin's hiss reverberates in the charged air, a testament to the exquisite sensation that courses through him as your walls clamp around him, an embrace so tight that it borders on suffocating intensity. 
As the waves of your orgasm surge through you, a tempest of sensation that engulfs your being, his thrusts mirror the tumultuous rhythm of your release. 
Each movement becomes a study in controlled chaos, his own desire reaching a crescendo as he hurtles towards his own climax. 
“Ah! I’m coming, babe!” he pants with a rhythm that mirrors the frenzy of his desire, each breath a tangible testament to the passion that courses through him. 
With a final, hard thrust, he stills within you, his essence flooding your depths in a torrent of warm cum that paints your walls with an intimate declaration of shared intimacy. 
He surges forward, a final thrust that extends the boundaries of pleasure, his movements a testament to his need to savor every last fragment of the climax he rides out. 
The rhythm becomes a reflection of his own ecstasy, each thrust a stroke of intimacy that weaves a tapestry of shared release between your bodies, a culmination that leaves you both suspended in the aftermath of pleasure.
Despite the sheen of sweat that adorns your skin and the fever that courses through your veins, an urgent need propels you to draw him close, your arms enveloping his form in an embrace that defies the constraints of physical discomfort. 
Your body radiates heat, a testament to the fever's grip, yet the desire to feel his heartbeat against your own is a force that eclipses all else. 
“It’s hardly fair,” you remark with a playful huff, a mixture of exasperation and laughter tingling your words, “that you’re not even breaking a sweat.” 
The words carry a lightness that dances amidst the weight of your fevered state, the exchange a testament to the shared intimacy that allows for such candid moments even in the midst of vulnerability.
“I guess I’ve got better stamina, sweetheart,” he chuckles, the sound a gentle ripple that lingers in the air, even as his dick goes soft within the warmth of your pussy. 
With a tenderness that belies the intensity that has passed between you, he seals the moment with a sweet kiss pressed to your lips, a lingering connection that speaks of the intimacy shared and the unbreakable bond that defines your connection.
A blend of his cum and your own arousal trickles from your heated core, a physical reminder of the fervent exchange that has unfolded between you. 
He withdraws from you completely, a deliberate movement that creates a sudden void, a palpable absence that contrasts with the intensity of moments prior. 
Slumping down beside you, his breaths come in ragged pants, each exhalation a testament to the exertion of shared pleasure. 
The space between your bodies becomes a canvas that captures the echoes of your intimate dance, an image of vulnerability and release that lingers in the air like a whisper.
A sense of emptiness washes over you, an aftermath of the profound connection that has left a void in its wake. Your lips form a subtle pout, a silent plea that rests in the curve of your expression, a wordless request for the closeness and intimacy that you yearn to preserve. 
“Oh, I know that look,” he chuckles softly, the sound a warm caress that mingles with the air, as his hand sweeps through his blond hair. 
The knowing amusement in his eyes speaks of an unspoken understanding between you, a connection forged through countless shared moments, a familiarity that transcends words.
Beside him, you shift restlessly, a subtle squirm that speaks volumes about the growing hunger within you. 
Your thighs press together with a desperate urgency, a physical manifestation of the insatiable desire that has rekindled within your core. 
The air seems to crackle with anticipation, the atmosphere electrified by the magnetic pull between your bodies, a force that threatens to engulf you both once again in the flames of shared longing.
“Just give me an hour or two, then we can go again,” he chuckles softly, the sound a tender reassurance that carries within it a promise of more to come. 
His lips nuzzle against the delicate curve of your neck, a gesture that's both affectionate and possessive, the fervor of his kisses an echo of the passion that simmers between you. The intensity of his touch leaves a mark, a phantom sensation that lingers even after his lips have moved away, a tangible reminder of the connection that binds you together.
Tumblr media
Author’s note: I get incredibly horny when I have a fever, so this idea popped into my head 😇 My husband calls it “fever horny” 🤣 I’m so sorry, am I the only who’s like this? 🫢
234 notes · View notes
darkelixirr · 1 month
Text
You're Mine. - Park Jimin
Tumblr media
Just a little jealousy...
♡pairing: jealousy!jimin x fem!reader ♡rating: explicit!mature 18+ ♡genre: SMUT ♡wc: 1.3k
Tumblr media
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."
105 notes · View notes
vminizzle · 1 year
Text
Beach night
pairing : husband!jimin x f.reader
genre : SMUT
warnings : making out, exhibitionism, penetration, unprotected sex, marking, creampie
words count : 1.2k
A/N : hello everyone, I’m back again. Here I offer…a mess!! This time I ain’t exaggerating 😭please this is something I wrote on my (other) blog, I tried to write it a bit better but gosh this fic is stuffed with grammatical mistakes 💀 I like to remind that English is not my first language. Well, sorry for this, have a great week.
I miss Jimin.
FEEDBACKS ARE VERY WELCOMED :)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
M RATED
The stars decorated the dark sky as you and Jimin were laying peacefully on the empty beach.
“it looks like a tiger.” you pointed at a weird shape the stars formed.
“no way! it looks more like a pig.” you laughed at his hypothesis.
“what?” he laughed too before pulling you closer to him.
You both stopped for a while to enjoy the pleasing sound of the waves crushing gently between them.
“i love you.” Jimin whispered eyes still on the sky.
“i love you too.” you looked at him.
Jimin stared down at you for a few seconds before taking his shirt off. You looked at him confused.
"take yours off too" he grinned making you laugh but you did it anyway.
Your husband caressed the skin of your stomach with the pads of his thumbs gently enjoying the way goosebumps appear after his touch.
“so pretty. I can’t believe you’re mine.”
“ I can’t believe you’re real” you said back grinning.
Jimin chuckled pulling you closer than you already were. His hand making its way up to your back, fingers stopping on the hook of your bra, a silent request to let him unhook it. Your eyes widened staring at him to know if he was serious.
“Jimin..” you started quietly.
"are you..”
“yes." he nodded.
You looked around, checking if there were people present on the quiet beach. You threw him an "are you crazy" expression.
“what if someone-”
Jimin interrupted you pointing toward the sea.
“have you ever thought about doing it there?”
“in the sea?” you whisper-yelled.
He smirked “exciting, isn’t it?”
You lowered your face playing with your fingers. You never thought about this but now the idea of doing it there, under the stars.. it sounded so romantic yet so .. dangerous.
What if someone noticed you?
You gulped locking eyes with him before nodding. Jimin smirked before standing, pulling you up with him.
“If you’re not sure we can stop at any moment” he pecked your lips. You nodded, letting a small ok. 
He started stripping off walking toward the sedate water, his lower part disappearing more as he kept going forward. His muscular back the only thing you can see now as he stopped.
You took a deep breath, unbuttoning your shorts and kick it off your legs. Your hands coming behind your back to unhook your bra. You took off your panties feeling embarrassed as you keep looking around walking quickly to the water. You’ve never felt this exposed before.
Letting your body swallowed by the sea, you could feel the sand under your feet, the water wasn’t too cold but enough to make goosebumps raise on your skin. The water was now covering you just above your chest. You approached your husband, his arms immediately enveloping you.
“I feel so naked” you muttered against his bare chest.
“maybe because you’re naked, no?” Jimin laughed.
“Y’know what I meant… I feel more naked than usual.. I mean we’re in public and I feel more y’know" you whined.
He nodded understanding you “if you feel really uncomfortable we can go back.”
“mmh yea yea it’s ok" you replied before pecking his lips. Jimin smiled pulling you closer, your chest on his as he kissed you. His lips so soft on yours as you put your arms around his neck. He looked at you before touching your thighs, motioning for you to "jump". You wrapped your legs around his waist, one of his hand holding your thigh, the other one placed on your lower back.
The water felt warmer, the gentle breeze pleasant against your bare skin.
“Can I?” he asked, hand leaving your lower back to grab his cock slowly pumping it.
"yes” you breathed out.
Jimin positioned himself at your entrance, his forehead on yours. You felt the familiar stretch painful yet pleasurable as he penetrate you slowly.
"I’m gonna move baby” he said when he bottomed out. You gripped the back of his head pulling him for a slow and passionate kiss.
Everything felt too good to be true. The little waves moving your bodies, making him lose his balance and making you both chuckle. You loved these types of moments it made you felt happy.
Jimin thrusted in and out slowly, your legs tightening around his waist as the pleasure started running through your veins.
“It feels so g-good babe” you whimpered.
Your husband smiled before leaving little wet kisses on your neck, murmuring how good you felt around him, how much he loved you.
He furrowed his eyebrows, his grip on your thigh tightening, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
“fuck” he groaned as your walls suddenly clenched around his cock.
The stars in the dark sky were so pretty, but the moonlight reflecting on the love of your life was even prettier. You admired his face, he was so handsome and adorable at the same time. 
You let out a loud moan when he hit your special spot making you weak.
“Jimin r-right there! yes right there.”
He did as you said doing his best to pleasure you. Your walls started convulsing around his cock as he kept on hitting your g-spot. The pressure around his length made him lightheaded. It felt too good, everything was perfect at this moment.
“fuck don’t stop clenching around me! I’m so close” he moaned into your ear. His moans being one of your biggest weakness, it made you roll your eyes to the back of your head.
You squeezed your eyes shut tight as you felt the oh-so-familiar knot in the pit of your stomach. You felt like you were about to explode when he bite on your shoulder blade. You tangled your fingers into his hair, pulling on the black locks as your orgasm washed over you.
"fuck I’m coming Jimin I’m-“
You let your head fall forward on his chest as you come around him, trying to catch your breath you slowly sucked little marks on his neck.
"cum for me my love..hm do it babe” you whispered against the marked skin still breathless.
You clenched around him pushing him on the edge “baby I’m so close I’m-“ he moaned loudly as his warm cum filled you up to the brim.
“I love you” Jimin breathlessly whispered head buried deep into the crook of your neck.
“I love you.” You caressed his hair as he peppered little kisses on your neck. You stayed like that for awhile, enjoying the moment, each other’s warmth.
Jimin pulled out, gently helping you down. He kissed you lovingly smiling into the kiss.
"let’s go." you said splashing him with water. You both laughed before "swimming back toward the beach.
"babe” you said stopping in your track. 
Jimin hummed waiting for you to continue.
"our clothes..” you trailed out.
His eyes widened at the missing pile of clothes. You glared at him “what? I don’t know.. it’s not my fault!” he put his hands up in defense making you sigh.
a/n : gosh it’s a mess. Well if you read it until the end wow thank you a lot because it’s definitely not that good. Sorry again for the many mistakes, my english still sucks and I was tired asf when I was finishing it :( love y’all ♡
626 notes · View notes
jmvore · 3 months
Note
As wild thoughts won here's a little idea,how about getting jimin pretty jewellery and dressing him up making him feel pretty,could add cross dressing too and maybe encouraging him to go on a date like that as a way of expressing his feminity
Tumblr media
Pretty in Diamonds
» rating › 18+ [M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T] » warning(s) › MOMMY!KINK, smut, jimin naked and wearing diamonds, jacking jimin off in front of the closet mirror, cum eating, calling jimin nicknames, telling jimin he's pretty. sweet talk turns into dirty talk real quick. » words(s) › 1.9k+ » post date › 12/14/2023 » song playing › got to be with me by black buddafly » a/n › so I got carried away and didn't include the cross-dressing (I completely forgot) but I hope you like this version.
Tumblr media
"Jimin!" You call his name as you enter the door with a giant present. You don't know where he is within the house, but you know he's home. He told you he was. Plus, his car is outside. "Petal! Where are you?" You sing, placing your purse on the entryway table and throwing your keys into the bowl.
The lights are off downstairs so the only place he could be is upstairs (or maybe in the basement but you doubt it).
"Sweetheart?" Heading upstairs, you hear the shower running, but instead of surprising him, you decide to wait for him on the bed. Coat off and hung away in the walk-in closet, heels kicked half-hazard by the door. You'll shower afterward, eager to give him his gifts right now. To pass the time, you scroll through your Amazon cart to see which gift you want to buy him for Christmas.
You don't realize the water has stopped, and the door swings open. Jimin walks into the bedroom with only his pajama pants hanging low on his hips as he dries his hair with a towel.
"Oh hey, You're home!" Jimin says, grabbing his water bottle off the dresser and taking a swig. "I thought you were going to be late?"
"Seokjin sent everyone home for the night. Something about not wanting people to feel overworked."
"Oh." You wave for him to come closer as he eyes the box next to you. " What's this?"
"Something for you, my love." You hold the box to him with a soft smile, though your eyes shine excitedly at his reaction. "I hope you like it."
"Cartier?" Jimin eyes grow wide at the name on the box. "That's exp-"
"Nothing is expensive when it comes to you, Petal." He avoids eye contact the moment you take his hand, but you notice the pink dust that makes its way across his cheeks.
"What is it?"
"Open it." You notice his Adam's apple bob. "You'll like them, I promise."
He nods, tearing at it to open the bigger box, when he notices two smaller boxes inside. He gasps, head snapping back to look at you.
"Darling, really?" He asks, eyes bugging from his head.
He's so cute you wanna kiss him silly.
"Mhmh." You don't give him room to argue, pushing the box closer. "Open them."
He does it with quickness. One of the boxes containing a body chain while the other contains a necklace that connects the pieces together. He holds the jewelry in between his fingers as he inspects the silver chains.
"You didn't have to."
"I know but I wanted to."
He grins. You didn't have to get him anything but he knows that arguing with you is impossible because you love spoiling him.
"Do you like?"
"Are you kidding me?" Jimin hugs you tightly and leans down to kiss you, but you stop him with an index finger to his lips. "I love it. Thank you!"
"You're welcome, honey. They had one that would've gone around your waist but I didn't want to overwhelm you with gifts. C'mere, Try them on."
"Help me?" You nod, pulling him to stand in front of you. The jewelry is easy enough to figure out. When he finally gets it on, you can't help but drool at how hot he looks. Your focus lingers on his chest as you reach out and trace the jewels that outline his chest with your fingertips. He leans into your touch, his eyes filled with emotion. You feel a spark of electricity shoot through you as he leans closer to kiss you again.
This time you give him what he wants.
"I love you so much." You nip at his bottom lip when he pulls away, eyes closed but with a satisfied smirk on his face. He twists a bit, trying to look at it from behind but he can't see it.
"Well? How does it look?"
"Gorgeous." You look him in the eye to convey your sincerity. His heart races as he takes a deep breath and giggles, his eyes twinkling with appreciation. An overwhelming sense of joy overtakes you. You're glad he's happy. "Now. Strip."
"Huh?"
You turn around and pat him on the behind.
"Strip."
"R-Right now?"
"Yes. I want to see you wearing nothing but the jewelry, Petal."
"Okay." You can see the way his eyes shift and the way he fidgets with his thumbs gives it away. He's nervous. His body language speaks volumes as he seems anxious and unsure about himself. He seems uncomfortable in his own skin. He keeps glancing around the room as if he is searching for an escape.
You stop him before he gets inside of his head. Encourage him to slow down, take a deep breath, and go at his own pace.
Telling him he's worth the wait.
"Petal."
"Yes?"
"Look at me, please." He does when you take his hand and bring it up to your lips to kiss, gently. He looks away shyly, her cheeks flushing harder than before. You watch him run his hands through his hair before shaking it out. He finally looks up at you, his eyes filled with a ray of emotions. "Tell me what's wrong."
"It's nothing."
"No." You grab both his hands and shake her head. "None of that. Tell me, Petal."
"I dunno. I jus-" He frowns, hesitating before speaking. His voice barely more than a whisper, "I don't want to disappoint you."
"Oh baby. No." You wrap your arms around him and hold on tighter. His body feels warm against yours. You don't want to let him go. "Look at me." You caress his chin and bottom lip as you gaze into his eyes. You feel like you're looking into the depths of his soul. You both stand there, connected, in the moment. He can sense the warmth and love in your expression. He feels safe and protected in your arms. "I know it's going to take some time to undo all the hurt they caused but I'm willing to work but you have to work with me."
"Do you trust me?" You walk backward to sit down on the edge of the bed before holding your hand out for him and pausing. Waiting for him to answer.
"I do."
"Let me show you're worth it."
When Jimin steps closer, he drops his pajama pants, revealing he has nothing on underneath. You start caressing his chest before running your nails down his stomach, his muscles tense at your touch.
The feeling was a bit overwhelming.
You help him fix the chain that wraps around his chest, the jewelry making his chest look bigger than it is but it makes him feel so classy. so delicate. so beautiful.
you scoot to the front of the bed where the mirror on the closet sits. opening your legs, he sits between them and leans back into you. you know he's eyeing himself from head to toe.
"How do you feel looking at yourself, my love?"
"i-" Jimin's breath hitches the moment you put your hands on his waist and give it a soft squeeze. you move to sit on your knees and hug him close. your chin sitting on his shoulder.
"tell me how do you feel, petal?"
"pretty. it looks pretty on me." you smile as he shyly glances down. it makes you want to hurt the ones who hurt him because who would even think about tearing this angel down.
"ah, ah... eyes up sweetheart."
"darling..."
"you know what I think?" you ask, trailing your finger down the expanse of his stomach again. you watch a chill run down his spine as he shakes. "I think you look ravishing. the diamonds bring out your eyes and it makes me want to worship your body while you wear them."
jimin whimpers, closing his eyes the moment you reach for his cock. you know he's sensitive to the touch if the way his cock is leaking says anything. red, swollen and oh so pretty, just like he is.
"i'm close..."
"I know you are. you know what I want you to do?"
"No..." He moans. The warmth of your tongue he feels climbing up the side of his neck causes him to shudder. He leans into you, his lips parting slightly, his heart racing. You press soft kisses to his neck, your lips lingering for a moment. "H-Honey..." His breathing quickens the closer you get to his ear. His heart thumped in his chest as you turned his head so he was able to look at you.
Finally, you pull away, leaving him wanting more.
"I want you to watch yourself cum all over my fingers." You watch him through the mirrors with no desire to turn away. "I want you to know I'm doing this because you deserve it. You deserve to be loved and taken care of, Petal. I don't care what anyone else told you because they're wrong. You understand me?"
"Yes! Yes! Please." He whines, his moans of pleasure growing louder the more he lets himself go. He's so wet. His pre-cum drooling from the tip as you use it for lube to make it wetter. Sloppier. "I'm gonna cum..."
"I know baby." You chuckle at the way he grips the covers around you, trying his hardest to not lose control but it's getting harder the more you keep going.
"Please..."
"What do you want, Petal?" You ask, slowing down a bit but not enough for him to lose his high. "Tell me what you want."
"To cum. P-Please let me cum, Mommy!"
"Tell me, how do you feel, petal?"
"I feel so pretty!" He yells, rocking his hips harder as he finally hits his high as he cums all over your hand. Some hit the floor, and some hit the mirror (you'll have to clean that later). He watches as you stick your cumcovered fingers into your mouth and lick it off. Salty but satisfying to see him bite his bottom lip. "Fuck..."
"Feel good?"
"Yes... Thank you."
"You're welcome, Petal." You grin, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. "Next time I'm going to dress you up so pretty, petal. You'll look like my beautiful flower. Would you like that?"
"Mhm."
"No. What to we say, Petal?"
"Yes, mommy."
"Good. Now, you wanna know the reason I bought this?" Jimin falls back on the bed as you climb on top of him. He shakes his head and of course, you can't help but chuckle at how exhausted he looks.
"Why?"
"Because I know you'll look fucking gorgeous when I fuck you while you're wearing them."
If Jimin could pop another boner, he would because fuck that would be so damn hot.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Fuck yes." You lean down to give him a peck on the lips, grinning as he leans up for more.
"I know you would but right now we have pressing matters?"
"What's wrong?"
"We have a business dinner we have to attend."
"Tonight?"
"Tomorrow. So if you could, I'll need you home by seven if you can. I know sometimes your classes run late." You trace his chest as he huffs, loving the feeling. "And, I want you to wear the diamonds."
"Why?"
"Everyone else needs to know how gorgeous you look in them. They just won't get this view." You wink, collapsing next to Jimin and cuddling into his side. He pulls you so you're lying on top of him as he takes you in.
"I love you."
"And I love you, Petal."
And well, he doesn't mind it at all because he loves how you care for him. Your desire to make him happy is evident in how you treat him, and he feels lucky to have you in his life. He knows that no matter what he does, he won't be able to repay you for all that you've done for him.
Tumblr media
© 2020 - 2023 » JMVORE || » All Rights Reserved.   DO NOT Copy, Translate, Re-Upload, or Steal ANY of my work. Thank You!
Tumblr media
114 notes · View notes
peachypinkygloss · 7 months
Text
dior girl ✰ park jimin
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Park Jimin is one of a kind. When he wants something, he gets it, no matter how hard it can be. He's not scared to get his hands dirty. If he had any morals, maybe he'd consider his obsession with you getting out of hands. But this man has absolutely no morals.
୨୧ pairing: designer!jimin x model/fem!reader
୨୧ genre: strangers to lovers, age gap (21 & 38), smut, slight angst
୨୧ word count: 8.1k
୨୧ warnings: unrealistic depiction of the fashion industry, alcohol consumption & mention of drugs use, manipulation & corruption, jimin isn't a good person (especially not to oc lol <3), violent sexual thoughts, jimin's a sadist (my fav headcannon :D), heavy dom/sub dynamics, hard dom!jimin, unprotected vaginal & anal sex, anal play (use of a buttplug), my new headcannon: jimin likes giving anal, dacryphilia, praising & degradation, oral sex (m), face fucking, aftercare ig because yes jimin's a sadist but he still has a heart.
a.n.: yup so idk if you guys were expecting that... but i did say none of the characters were ethical lmfao so 🤷🏻‍♀️ i really, really hope you like the first part, i've worked hard on it even though it's not super long. so please, reblog and tell me what you thought about it! <3 as always, don't like, don't read.
[dior girl moodboard] ["older" masterlist]
His studio is his sanctuary. It's the only place in the world he can spend hours in without even noticing the moon setting or the sun rising. In his studio it feels like the time doesn't exist or that it's just a futile detail that doesn't have much importance.
When he's creating a piece, nothing around him matters. The only things he's willing to give attention to are the placements of the needles on the fabric, the little lines that form the pattern of the clothing, and the way his scissors cut through the satin material of the dress he's designing.
He's thought about this design for so long and he finally got the opportunity to make it. He's thought about the colours of the dress and also of the seam, about the length of the hem and the sleeves, how deep the neckline should be and if lace would be suitable.
He doesn't even recall how many sketches he's made of the dress. At some point it was consuming his entire mind, this dress the only design he could draw and think of.
Now that he's finally creating it, he has the feeling that it's going to be the best piece he's ever made. He already sees everyone talking about it, saying how much of a genius Park Jimin is. It's going to be the design of the year — of the century.
He still misses something, though, and it might be the most important part of the design. He needs a model, the perfect body to wear his piece and present it to the fashion world.
It can't be anybody, it must be someone who's confident, who always has their head up and who radiates elegance and sports a unique beauty.
Jimin still hasn't found this person. He constantly searches for them, but never finds them or when he thinks that he has, he discovers flaws he cannot unseen.
All the Dior models are great, but not enough. They don't spark anything in Jimin when he watches them strode down the catwalk. He's checked upon the apprentices and the newer models the company has hired, but he saw no one extraordinary.
Until today.
He hears steps against the wooden floor of his studio, entering the place without knocking. "Ah, there he is!" A manly voice exclaims, Jimin immediately recognizes it as his friend's, Sungwoon. "I have someone to introduce you."
Jimin raises his gaze up from his working table and looks at Sungwoon who's accompanied by a beautiful, young woman. He's then suddenly interested, contrary to usual where he doesn't really care about the many girls Sungwoon brings, claiming each one as the new phenomenon of the fashion industry.
When Jimin turns around, he eyes you up and down, barely glimpsing in Sungwoon's way. It's all it takes, one simple glance and he knows you're the one he needs — the one he wants and has to ruin.
Sungwoon introduces you both and when your name is pronounced by the man, sounding so charming and delicate, he's certain you're the model he had been waiting for since a long time.
You seem shy, arms locked behind your back, but you stand up straight and have a polite smile drawn on your face.
"I thought maybe you'd like to get to know each other, right?" Sungwoon raises his eyebrows in Jimin's direction. "Everyone's fond of her," he smiles and pats your back, encouraging you to speak up.
"Thanks," you smile back at Sungwoon before glancing back at Jimin who still hasn't looked away from you. "I've been a big fan of your work since I was a little kid, Mr. Park. You've inspired me to become a model."
The way you say his name has his cock twitching in his pants, filthy thoughts of him spanking your butt while you cry his name invading his mind.
He can sense your vulnerability, your willingness to submit. Who would he be to deny you that? Him, who is so eager to dominate the ones he's attracted to, to break but also repair them.
He knows it when someone's fragile, hiding their weaknesses under fake confidence. He doesn't know you, but he recognizes the pattern almost instantly. What can be broken can also be repaired and you're asking him to break you.
"I'm glad to hear that," Jimin says politely, a slight smile tugging on his lips. He's not the type to smile — stretch the corner of his mouth upward to imitate the person in front of him, he finds it useless. But for you, he'll do it, just so you trust him because you're so desperate to give yourself to the opposite sex.
"Park, you were wondering who'd be part of the fall show this year," Sungwoon begins, looking at you like you're the most irradiant ruby in the world. "Well, you have her in front of you." You giggle softly at the man's words, nodding your head at him and then looking at Jimin as if waiting for some praises.
Jimin faintly smiles, seeing your eyes glimmering and he curses himself for not finding you first. You'd have been his by now, his to praise, to kiss, to fuck, to destroy. But he swears, if he happens to break you, he'll gratefully keep you safe close to him.
๑♡՞
T H E N
"Careful," Jimin softly says as he catches you up from falling on the floor. You let out a high pitched laugh, as if all of this is a big joke, and push him back with a hand on his chest.
"I'm fine," you answer, shrugging him off with a flip of your hand. You stagger from left to right, leaning against the wall when you almost fall a second time. You laugh it off again, halting your steps.
Jimin looks at you with a cringe expression, eyeing the people behind, sporting worried looks on their faces.
You all went out after the show; models, designers, directors, stylists... everyone. It wasn't your plan to get drunk, Jimin knows that because you're not supposed to drink alcohol since you're on a very strict diet. A glass from time to time isn't so bad, but your consumption clearly surpassed just one glass tonight.
It's not really your fault, though. Technically yes, since you're the one who swallowed all of the glasses of wine, but you had a little help.
A little help from Jimin himself.
When you weren't looking, he poured more alcohol in your glass and to his satisfaction you've noticed nothing and gulped everything. Sure, you got a bit suspicious, wondering how you had only drank so little when you remembered swallowing more than that.
But Jimin assured you it was only your first glass, so you drank, and drank, and drank... Until you were more than tipsy.
You've received nasty looks from your colleagues, especially the other models who weren't drinking a single drop of wine, and yet, still weren't awarded with the status of the 'face of Dior'. How ironic that the drunkest girl in the room was the face of Dior and the little protégée of Mr. Park.
Years and years of training, countless sleepless nights, meals that are as nutritious as birds seed... All of the efforts in the world to have your biggest dream stolen by a model who is in the industry for less than six months.
Their rage is understandable, but Jimin couldn't care less. In fact, everything is going as planned and he can't fuck things up now. No, because if he does, all of the things he has done until now will be completely irrelevant.
"I'll... I'll bring her to our room, you can go out without us," Jimin announces, watching you sit down on the floor in the middle of the corridor.
"Will she be okay?" A stylist asks.
"Of course. I'll take care of her."
He waits for everyone to be gone before he gets you up from the floor and leads you both to your hotel room. When you're in the room, he sits you down on the bed.
You don't say anything as he takes off his jacket and loosens his tie. He crouches down in front of you to remove your heels and he does the same with his shoes, leaving them at the entry.
When he comes back, he sees you quietly crying, the features of your face contorting into a sad expression. You've slightly sobered up, harshly coming back to reality, realizing how much you've embarrassed yourself tonight.
"What did I do?" You ask, looking up at him with teary eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"
Jimin sits down beside you, lifting your head up with his index under your chin and his thumb over it. "There's nothing that can't be repaired," he states in a soft voice, so low it sounds like a sweet whisper — a secret, a confession only you can hear. "Right?"
You sniff, wiping your tears away. You nod your head in agreement, slightly reassured, hoping Jimin will fix your mistakes. Your foolish mistakes, done by the carefree of a twenty-one year old.
"Shh, baby, shh," he softly murmurs, cradling your head in his hands and gently laying your face against his chest. You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tighter and tighter til suffocation.
He strokes your hair delicately, placing a sweet and warm kiss on the top of your head.
Someone as vulnerable as you contains a lot of emotions. He has to deal with them, which doesn't bother him at all. He wants you the way you are; sad and pitiful.
"Everything's going to be fine," he promises, but it's not entirely the truth. Not everything will be fine, though it'll be in the end, he thinks — he hopes.
You eventually pull away from his embrace, just enough to look at him. It seems like you're searching for something or maybe waiting for something, your eyes desperately staring at Jimin as if his simple presence will make all of your problems fly away.
You throw yourself at him and kiss him on the lips, fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He reciprocates it, knowing you like your kisses sloppy and messy, wanting Jimin everywhere on you to remind you that he's always there.
You bring him closer, crumpling the material of his white shirt between your fists, moaning and whining as your teeth clash together at how roughly you kiss each other.
Jimin breaks your exchange first, both catching your breaths. His eyes observe you quietly as you look at him like you're still waiting for something.
"Did you do what I told you to?" He questions you, referring to your conversation of a few days when you came to his studio to try on his dress.
You were a bit stressed out, putting on the clothing like you were scared you'd rip it. He still remembers the way the satin was sliding up your body, hugging your waist and ass perfectly. He was baffled at how incredibly well it suited you as if he had made it exactly for you.
And maybe it was made for you, after all.
Because when he saw his creation on you, he knew you had to wear it for the runway. It has to be you, he'll accept no one else.
Jimin will make you walk the runway wearing his dress — the last time you'll ever step on the catwalk. After that, he'll keep you away from the rest of the world. He'll refuse anyone to see you because you're going to be his.
His forever.
"Yes," you nod your head, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth.
"Tell me what you did," Jimin softly demands, holding your chin in his hand, mouths inches away from each other.
You're too shy to say it out loud and that's why he wants you to tell him. Also to be sure you did everything correctly, but mainly because he wants to see you embarrassed.
"I prepared myself for you..." You begin, holding eye contact even though you feel your face heating up just thinking about all the things you've done per his request. "I... I used lube both on me and... the toy," you continue in a shy tone, so low Jimin wouldn't hear you if he wasn't so close.
"Where on you, sweetheart?" He interrupts, wanting each detail, each little thing you normally wouldn't have done if it wasn't for him. And all while thinking of him.
You swallow, "On my ass, Jimin," you answer in a whisper. "I stretched it out for you, using the toy like you told me," you finally admit.
"Good girl," Jimin purrs. "Let me see it then."
You proceed to strip off of your dress, now used to be nude in front of him, and slide your panties down your thighs, discarding them away on the floor.
You get back up on the mattress and position yourself on all fours close to the edge of the bed. Jimin stands up and goes behind you to have a closer look at your ass.
His veiny hands pull your cheeks apart, revealing your rim to his insatiable, sadistic eyes. You glance over your shoulder, curious of what he has in mind and what he has prepared for you.
You softly gasp when he spits and lets the globe of spit drip down between your asscheeks, rolling over your puckered hole. You clench around nothing, relieved to have his attention, to finally feel his hands on you instead of the usual touch of yours.
He sees that your ass is a bit looser than the last time he saw it, but it still clearly needs more preparation to welcome his girthy cock — though it's not like he cares that much if you're prepped enough or not.
He passes his thumb over your tight muscle, circling it and smearing his saliva over it. He wants to fuck it so bad, destroy it and do unbelievably violent things to you. Should he tonight? Should he show you his dark and evil side?
He's choked you before — smacked your ass hard til you felt your skin stings, overstimulated you to the point your orgasms were just spasms passing through your body, fucked your throat while you were drooling all over yourself, and tied your legs and wrists together to restrict your movements.
So fucking your ass can't be that bad, but the thing is Jimin wants it to be bad. He then wonders what would happen if the line is ever crossed. Would you endure it, would you defend yourself? Would you shut the fuck up and take it like you're asked to?
But you trust him so much — with all your pathetic being — and he thinks you'd let him cross any lines he desires to. He probably already has crossed multiple lines, and being the poor, sad girl that you are, you said nothing.
You truly are extraordinary.
He gives a slight slap to one of your asscheeks, groping both of them after, feeling how soft and tender your flesh is. "You did good, sweetheart," he comments in a honeyed voice that has you mewling, sounding so smooth and sweet. "How about we play with it a little?"
He lifts up a brow at you and you nod sheepishly, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. "Yes..."
"Great," he says in a low tone, running his hands one last time over your ass before going to take something from his suitcase.
"What is it?" You question, your curious eyes landing on the small object he's holding.
Jimin brings the object to you, something made of metal, the end having the shape of a cone and a pink gem placed on the top. "A gift for my princess," he replies, opening the bottle of lube he brought as well.
He applies some lube around your tight hole and on the butt plug, and carefully pushes the head of the toy in your ass. You gasp softly, feeling it slowly stretch you out, sinking in gradually as Jimin holds your cheeks apart.
"Mmh, feels good, Sir," you moan, arching your back and pushing your butt closer to Jimin.
When the plug is all the way in, the pink gem peeking out between your two globes of flesh, he smacks your other cheek, making it jiggle from the harsh hit.
"Is that so, dirty girl?" He wonders, gripping your hips and colliding his hips with your butt, sensing his big bulge pulsing under his pants. "You like it when your little ass gets stretched out?"
"I like everything you do to me," you say with a content sigh, pussy clenching around nothing as your ass gets used to the small butt plug.
Jimin genuinely thinks he can't find better than you. You were so shy in the beginning, looking like a lost puppy wherever you went. You just needed someone bigger and older to show you the way — though you were too dumb, and still are, to realize he was leading you to the wrong path.
It's not like you seem to mind, anyway.
After all, you both got what you wanted; you, male attention, someone to rely on and be protected by, and him, a woman to break and keep with him forever.
He lets go of your hips to unbuckle his belt, pulling the leather material out of the gold loop with the luxury Dior logo on it. He lets the two ends of the belt hang off, not bothering to remove it completely, and tucks the fly of his pants down.
He finally frees his cock from the confines of his boxers, springing up and slapping against his stomach, the bit of pre-cum escaping from his tip dampening his shirt.
"You're so good to me, princess," he praises as he wraps a hand around the base of his engorged cock, aching and begging to be nestled in your cute little pussy.
His head pushes at your entrance, never fully entering, only teasing your hole and stimulating all of your sensitive nerves. He watches how his cock stretches your cunt, your walls expending to receive his bulbous tip and then closing down when he pulls out.
"Sir, please, want more," you beg him, pushing your ass on him to have his dick back in you. You let out a little whimper when Jimin holds your hips in place, stopping you from wiggling your butt side to side against his thick cock.
He hums and slaps your ass harshly, your skin stinging after. "Want my cock in your needy little pussy, baby? Is that what you're crying for?" He asks, teasing even more by swiping the head of his penis between your pussy lips, a string of your arousal sticking to his angry tip.
"Yes," you say back quickly and desperately, arching your back, literally presenting yourself to Jimin. "Been so good, don't I deserve it, Sir?" You softly murmur, still looking over your shoulder to see his gaze fixated on your quivering pussy, cock head sliding up and down over your sex.
"You do..." He responds distractedly, licking his plump lips, his fingers touching the pink gem peeking out from your ass. You're always so good and obedient for him, he even wonders if you ever did something that genuinely pissed him off before.
When he really sinks in, his head passing the barrier of your sweet pussy, he groans deeply, feeling your walls deliciously enveloping his hard cock tightly.
You moan in unison as he bottoms out in you, his balls touching your wet and warm pussy. He bends his back over yours, running his hand up your spine, feeling all the little bumps of it until he reaches your head and shoves it against the mattress.
You whine when he starts pounding into you, his girth stretching you out so well, leaving you panting and moaning loudly. His other hand holds your hip against his dick, fingers digging into your skin, leaving permanent marks on your body — as well as on your mind and your soul.
He already sets a hard and rapid pace — fucking is never soft or loving with Jimin, it's violent, long, and agonizing. It's a way to be himself, the real and dark version of himself he hides in public and releases when he gets intimate with you.
You surprisingly got accustomed to it, embracing it as if it was your destiny, the reason for your existence; to be his personal slut, the little toy he likes to play rough with. And you've accepted it, like you had no other choice but to be fucked into oblivion by Jimin whenever he feels like it.
"You like that, baby? Huh?" He growls, as if you're the disgusting one for liking the way he treats you, ravished and delighted to have his girthy cock sliding against your velvety walls. "You like it when I fuck you hard like this?" He repeats and grips your hair, pushing your head against the bed covers with more strength.
You babble out something, voice caught in your throat, too out of breath to formulate a simple sentence. You then only nod, your cheek squished against the mattress, Jimin's hand still pushing down on your head.
His mouth hangs open to let out heavy breaths and his eyes are focused on your face, watching the little translucent pearls fall on your face and on the covers. Your pussy swallows all of his girth, clenching so tightly it has him groaning and saying profanities under his breath.
It's sick how it makes his cock so fucking hard, leaking so much pre-cum in you and twitching avidly by seeing you struggle to breathe. You crumple the bed sheets between your little fists, doing everything in your power to keep your ass up for Jimin and not slump down on the bed from the hard thrusts he's inflicting on you.
He snaps his hips against your ass and the entirety of his length is covered in your wetness, a white ring made of your cream circling the base of his cock.
His hand holding your head descends to your neck, enclosing it with his fingers, the coldness of his silver rings contrasting with the hotness of your sweaty skin. He squeezes a little, just a bit so you know who's in control, so you never forget Jimin controls you — that he controls your life and thoughts.
With a grip on your hair, he brings your torso up, arched back against his chest. The material of his shirt sticks to your skin, coated in a thin layer of sweat. He continues to pound into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy rapidly, as he holds you by the throat, lewdly licking a long stripe along the side of your face.
You shudder in desire, hair standing up on your delicate arms. "You're my little whore, aren't you, baby?" His mouth is right beside your ear as he whispers dirty things to you, his lips touching your hair, damp at the nape of your neck. "So fucking compliant... You want to please me so bad like the slut that you are," he mouths the words against your hair, cock pulsing hard in your cunt.
His free hand that doesn't have a hold around your throat slides down your body, passing over your belly and reaching your puffy clit. The sharp zipper of his pants graces the flesh just under your ass, irritating your skin and making it itchy.
You clench around him when his digits find your sensitive bud, circling it sensually and slowly, the complete opposite of his hip thrusts.
"Yes, want to please you, Jimin," you gasp, bucking your hips at the feeling of his rough fingertips on your pussy. He grunts when you address him by his name, loving how it sounds on your tongue, so sweet and timid.
He remembers the first time you moaned his name; you were sprawled across his expensive leather couch, blindfolded and hands attached together with his black tie. Intense for your first time with him, but it was also the last time he's ever been that gentle with you.
It was when his cold fingertips graced the skin of your stomach that you let out a squeak followed by his name, said in the quietest moan. He had then stopped his movements and looked at your face, an expression of distress painted over your features.
He had realized how frail and weak you actually were, needing your most important sense to be at ease. That's why he had blindfolded you, to show you how dependent you are of him, how impossible it is for you to live without him to guide you.
He pushes your jaw to the side so your lips can meet his in a feverish kiss, wet tongues mingling together, drool dripping down from the corners of your mouth. He continues to ram his cock in your now soppy and messy pussy, the sound of skin against skin resonating in the hotel room.
He traps your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whimper and close your walls around his girth once again. Your little hands grip the material of his trousers, keeping him close and holding on to something because the hard cadence of his hip thrusts push you forward, breasts bouncing up on your chest.
"Fuck," he curses and he suddenly stops, steadying his hips against your butt. You let out a whiny moan as Jimin lets go of your face and hips.
You're sad to have your pleasure ripped away from you so hastily, but you don't have the time to complain, Jimin slipping out of your cunt and pushing you down violently on the mattress.
You turn around on your back to see him unbuttoning his dress shirt and throwing it on the floor, revealing to you his beautiful chest and defined abs. He gets rid of his pants and socks after, finally removing his boxers, the only things remaining on him being his rings and the watch crowning his right wrist.
His cock glistens in your juices, more pre-cum leaking from his swollen tip and twitching avidly against his stomach. Even though him fucking you while being all dressed and you completely bare is a way to humiliate and degrade you, he also likes to be naked sometimes.
He loves skin to skin contact, how your bodies stick together because of all the sweat coating you. It's addicting, it's rougher and it creates more friction — more pain.
He doesn't mind being naked too because he knows how to dominate you either way. He doesn't find it embarrassing, on the contrary, it makes him scarier and hungrier. While you shiver without your clothes on, curled up on yourself, Jimin is imposing, his cock thick and girthy enough to split you in half.
He crawls back to you, hovering over you like a predator had caught his prey, boring his eyes into yours. You look at him in awe, always waiting patiently. You feel his cock against your thigh, thick and veiny, your hole pathetically quivering — missing his size stretching out your pussy.
He sneaks a hand between your legs and reaches the little pink gem, ready to get it out. "Take a deep breath sweetheart," Jimin instructs and you inhale deeply.
He doesn't waste a second, pulling out the butt plug out of your ass. You scrunch your eyes shut at the pain, exhaling when it's done. He carefully sets it on the nightstand, coming back to you after.
He bends your legs over your stomach and looks at your ass, just begging him to fuck it, shining with lube and arousal that leaks from your pussy. His erect cock is just so close to it and Jimin could slide right in with one movement of his hips.
He lets go of one of your legs to grip his engorged erection, a little gasp escaping your lips when he presses the head of his cock at your tight hole, threatening to sink in.
"Sir," you sigh, not sure if you're ready for that. It always burns no matter how good you prepped before and he knows that. That's why he's so tempted, that he's staring so obsessively at your rim.
Will it hurt you? Will you grip his biceps in an attempt to dissuade him? He wants to see those tears falling from your eyes again, he wants to lick them and tastes your pain. He feels more blood rush to his penis at the mere thought of hurting you.
Give him all of your pain, he'll fucking take it whole and cherish it. He wants it — he needs it. Accuse him for having a sick and twisted mind, accuse him for everything you've ever been hurt by because he'll gladly take the blame.
"I know you can take it," he says in a low tone, glancing up at your face as he applies just a bit more pressure to your ass hole. "Can you, baby?" Jimin asks, waiting for you to admit how much you want it, how badly you want him to destroy you.
"Yes..." You whisper back, a long shiver running up your spine as his eyes pierce through you.
"Yes, what? Tell me, sweetheart," he demands, and it's as if he doesn't care about your response whatsoever because the next thing he does makes you yelp in pain.
His tip has entered you, the burning sensation forcing you to scrunch your eyes shut, your instinct thinking it'll protect you.
"Yes, I- I can..." you stutter and as expected, you dig your nails in the flesh of his biceps — only fair to hurt him in return. "I can take your cock in my ass..."
You take a sharp breath, eyes slowly opening, all watery and painful. Jimin groans at that, stuffing more of himself in your hole. "Good girl," he praises, voice raspy, ending with a deep grunt.
He stretches you out completely, his dick in no comparison to the toys you've used to prepare yourself. You open your mouth as he pushes himself in gradually, tears streaming down your face when you blink.
The tears roll down the side of your face and Jimin can't help but be turned on, leaning in to kiss your face and collect some of your tears, tasting the saltiness of them on his tongue.
"Jimin...!" You look at him with the saddest and most hurtful gaze, tears rolling down your face. "It burns," you add in a quiet voice, now scratching his back, leaving long red trails on his skin.
"I know, baby, I know," he softly murmurs in your ear, a husky moan leaving his mouth when he's completely nestled in you, balls touching your ass. "You're so tight, fuck," he sucks air through his teeth, not moving until he estimates he's waited long enough.
He gives warm and wet kisses to your neck, descending to your collarbones and groping your breasts, slowly starting to move his hips. You lock your legs behind his back, wanting him as close to you as possible despite the pain he's inflicting on you.
He loves knowing it hurts you because it makes it more pleasurable to him somehow. The pain will go away soon anyway, that's why he doesn't bother to stop or slow down. You have to get used to the feeling first.
He wouldn't go too far to hurt you. The choking, the hair pulling, the smacks... He keeps it for the bedroom, but he won't lie that there's a part of him that wants to ruin your life, ruin everything you've accomplished so far just so he can see those sad eyes of yours and hear you ask him for help out of desperation.
It's not even sexual, he just wants to break you, that's all he desires. Though your life is something he wants to destroy, it's more of a way to have you dependant on him after. If your career is no longer successful, your solution is Jimin because he's the only person in your life capable of taking care of you both emotionally and physically.
His teeth chew on the tender skin of your neck while his hand travels all over your body, many veins popping out along his strong arm. The cool sensation of his rings on your stomach makes you shiver, his finger gently circling your clit to make the pain more bearable.
His cock slides in your hole back and forth, your ass slowly but surely taking the size of girth. Many curses leave Jimin's mouth, your ass probably the best he's ever fucked. You feel so good around him, you're tight, but you loosen easily, making it so, so pleasurable for him.
His hand that was roaming over your body comes to close around your throat and he turns his head to your side, lips brushing over your temple. "Yeah, just like that, baby," he mutters under his breath, his nose pressing down on your hair as he murmurs the words to you. "Just like that..."
A choked moan is all you can respond, eyes rolling back in your skull as Jimin splits your ass open, fucking his thick cock into you. His hot breath hits the side of your face, his chest heaving rapidly while you claw at his back, white scratches appearing on his skin.
He sweetly kisses your temple as he pounds into you, not tightening his hand around your throat, just holding you in place — always letting you know that he is always in control.
Your tits slightly bounce up and down on your chest, little whines coming out of you each time Jimin bottoms out. It starts feeling good for you — really good — and you think that this pleasure is totally worth a bit of pain at the beginning.
You grip the hair at the nape of his neck and bring him in for a kiss. He accepts it, kissing you back as if he wants to possess your whole mouth, biting and licking your lips. You moan into his mouth, twisting his hair between your fist and sinking your nails into the flesh of his back.
He backs away from you a little, his plump lips glistening in both of your saliva, and places his two palms on your boobs. He feels your perky nipples under his hands, just loving how plushy your breasts are, fitting perfectly in his palms.
He keeps thrusting in you as he gropes your tits and you bring your hands over his, looking into each other's eyes. He lowly groans, holding eye-contact with you.
You feel his veins under your palms, your pussy clenching around nothing but air while you run your hands all over his arms. You enjoy the sensations of his pulsing veins under your small fingers as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, staring into Jimin's dark eyes.
"Jimin..." You moan his name, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of his hard cock entering and exiting your tight hole. Jimin takes the opportunity to smooch your neck again as you expose it to him, his full lips delicately pressing down on your throat. "I love it," you sigh pleasantly.
He hums, the sound coming deep from his throat. He wants to hurt you, yes, but he likes it even more when you love the pain. He just knew you were exactly like him when he first saw you. He had the feeling that you needed someone like him, someone that'd push you to your limits and make you discover a new type of pleasure.
And he was right because there's not one time where you told him to stop.
"My dirty girl," he purrs in response, bringing his lips up to your jaw. He slowly rolls your nipples between his fingertips, pinching and pulling on them. "You're stupid, but so, so good for me, baby," he groans in your ear, gritting his teeth as he feels his balls tightening.
He slowly halts his hips movements, letting out heavy breaths as he eventually pulls out of you. You gasp when he does so, already missing his cock stretching out your ass.
You're both trying to catch your breaths, Jimin raising himself up from you and getting out of the bed. His erection stands tall against his stomach, bouncing up as he walks to the front of the bed.
You watch him getting away until he orders you to follow him. "Come here," he says softly and you don't make him wait. "On your knees," Jimin commands when you're facing him, sinking down to your knees after.
He places a hand behind your head and the other around the base of his dick, guiding the head of his cock toward your lips as he pushes down on your head.
"Here, baby," he instructs in a low voice. "Take it in your mouth." You part your lips to welcome Jimin's length, his bulbous tip shining in pre-cum and your juices under the light of the hotel room.
He immediately moans when he enters the warmth of your mouth, his heavy cock sliding on your wet tongue. He doesn't let you have much control, pushing his dick in your mouth until your nose touches his pubic hair.
You relax your jaw for Jimin, allowing him to stuff your mouth full of his cock. He looks down at you, watching the way your lips wrap around him tightly, your eyes starting to water. He still holds the back of your head with one hand, guiding you over his stiff erection and you moan obscenely around Jimin, drool dripping down on your chin.
He begins to fuck your mouth, forcing you to take the whole thing each time he bottoms out. He moves his hips back and forth, obsessed with the way his girth appears and reappears between your lips as he uses your mouth as he pleases.
"Shit," he hisses when you hollow your cheeks, making it more pleasurable for him. "You're a fucking cockslut, aren't you, baby?" He says breathily, his eyes not once leaving his cock penetrating your mouth over and over again.
You whine around him, surely agreeing with what he said. It sends deliciously vibrations through his entire body, the sounds of your moans and hearing you gag around him is so arousing to him. He wants to hear more so he literally uses your mouth like a toy, snapping his hips against you, his balls slapping your chin.
He lets out a deep moan, your cheeks now damp and eyelashes all wet because of your tears, eyes stinging as Jimin fucks your throat like a mad man.
"Stroke your clit," he manages to say between two heavy breaths. "You can get off by yourself, right? I know you're soaking wet just by letting me use that pretty mouth of yours," he mocks you, but he knows he's right. Whatever he does, your cunt is always dripping wet.
You whimper again, doing what he told you to and sneaking a hand between your thighs to play with your pussy. You part your legs wider as you circle your clit with your finger, Jimin's hooded eyes lazily watching you playing with yourself.
Your right hand is laying on his thigh while the other is operating between your legs, pleasuring yourself to the sounds of Jimin's moans and the feeling of his stiff cock weighing down on your tongue.
You do your best to breathe through your nose, swallowing around his length and flattening your tongue underneath him. Your juices drip down your inner thighs, your finger flickering over your sensitive bud smoothly because of your arousal.
The whole room is smelling like sex, an odour that Jimin can't ignore, loving it so much. Your lips glide so easily over his hard cock, completely covered in your spit and still some of your wetness, tasting yourself on him.
"Ah, fuck," he curses, his head rolling back on his shoulders, eyes still strained down on you. He feels the familiar burning sensation at the pit of his stomach, indicating he's really close to his orgasm. He stops thrusting in you. "Go on the bed, baby."
You're taken aback, but you follow his order, pulling him out of your mouth and laying your back down on the mattress close to the edge. You beautifully moan when Jimin penetrates your pussy a second time, bending your legs over your stomach.
"Oh, god," you cry softly, being pounded onto the bed by him right away, tits moving up and down on your chest.
His hands are positioned on each side of your shoulders, snapping his hips against yours so harshly you feel your skin stinging. You keep doing circle motions on your clit, now faster and impatient to reach your high.
You let out a high-pitched moan when Jimin suddenly steadies his hips over yours, dropping down to his elbows as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Holy fuck," he grunts, gripping the bed sheets tightly in fists beside your head as his cock twitches in your pussy.
"Yes, yes," you quietly exclaim, your clitoral orgasm passing through you, making you arch your back and buck your hips.
Your hole clenches repeatedly around him and he finally comes undone into you, shooting long, thick ropes of cum deep into you. He empties himself in your wet cunt, cumming just after you.
When he slips out of you, more spurts out of his tip, landing on your pussy, covering it in his creamy cum. You moan at the warm sensation, always loving how it feels both in and on you. Some of his seeds dribble out of you, dripping down to your ass.
He stays above you for some time, catching his breath and looking at the mess he made on you. He stares up at your face, seeing how fucked up you look, hair in a nest and eyes reddened.
Later, Jimin is in the shower, washing his hair and his body, passing a soft cloth soaked in soap over his chest. He lets the water fall over his head, wetting his black locks. He stays maybe a bit longer than normally, staring at the tiled wall.
He thinks about you, about all the things he's planned. He revised everything in his head, imagining you walk on the podium wearing his design, people looking at his piece with admiration in their eyes.
He thinks about all of that that will go down for you after the show, getting fired, losing your career and your fans. Many articles talking about your excessive use of alcohol and drugs, saying how tired and sad you look beside Jimin.
You won't last long, you're too weak anyway. A downfall like this is unconquerable, nobody recovers from that, and surely not a model who will be thrown out of the industry as soon as you turn twenty-five.
Jimin knows the industry, he's been in it for years now. He's aware of how cruel it is, how difficult and harsh it can be on fragile little girls like you.
But that's why he's here, to take care of you once nobody will want you anymore. That's the goal, after all; you to be finally his — solely and completely his.
"Jimin?"
Your voice reaches him, turning his head in your direction, seeing you hesitantly entering the shower with him. He opens his arms, inviting you to come closer and you do, hugging him and laying your head down on his wet chest.
"I love you, sweetheart," he softly murmurs against your hair. "I'll never leave you, you know that, right?"
You nod your head, looking up at him and meeting his gaze. "I love you, too."
๑♡՞
A F T E R
The runway went incredibly well. Celebrities and journalists were all gathered for the fall show, totally amazed by every design and the models that were wearing them.
But there was one specific piece that everyone was willing to say was the best.
Jimin was satisfied to see that his name stood out among everyone else's, being called more times than Dior itself. He predicted it; it was the creation that every guest remembered, the dress that the fans were only talking about.
He'd take all the credit, he was the one who imagined it and then sewed it after all, but he has to admit that you had contributed to the fame a lot.
Being the beloved face of Dior only made people talk more about it and that was what Jimin needed.
But everything has an end, doesn't it?
When Jimin comes back to his apartment, the place is silent except for the TV playing, as he thought it would be. You're looking through the window, watching the city living at night while it's raining. You're sitting on the sofa, not even acknowledging his presence as he enters, getting rid of his shoes.
You're not much of a talker since you've been fired from Dior a few days ago just after the fall show. He understands your wish of remaining silent, needing a bit of space to process everything that has happened the past weeks in your small head.
It was going to happen soon enough anyway. You've been to your photoshoots completely drunk, sometimes just going in with a hangover, but of course it didn't help your case at all.
Jimin was guilty for letting you drink alcohol so soon in the morning. No need to deny it, he was even the one for dropping you off at work like that. Well, he had to do it if he wanted people to notice how far you've fallen.
He doesn't feel bad, though. Your career wasn't going to last with Jimin's sabotage or not. He did you a favour, you should be thankful.
You can't handle being a model. If you could, none of that would have happened. You wouldn't have gained weight, you would have been suspicious of the amount of calories Jimin was feeding you. The bottle of wine wouldn't have been so tempting and smoking weed wouldn't have ever occurred to you as a good idea.
Some people can, others can't and you're one of them. You shouldn't be ashamed of it, sometimes things just don't work out like we would have wanted them to.
"Did you see the article they wrote about me?" You ask, already knowing he's walking up to you without looking. "You surely did, I bet that's all they're talking about..."
He sits down beside you and you eventually turn around, facing him. You care so much about what others think of you. It must be so tiring having such a low self-esteem. He can only imagine it; seeing you look through the window like a sad puppy, your life finally making sense when Jimin comes home.
"I did, but nothing of that matters to me," he answers, the most honest he's ever been. And even if he had to lie, it's not like you wouldn't have believed him. You always trust whatever he says.
You don't reply, your head still filled with many thoughts.
"Hey, come here," he softly tells you, patting his thigh. You straddle his lap, setting your hands on his shoulders. He cups your chin, forcing you to look at him as you keep avoiding his gaze. "Whatever they say, whatever their name is, nothing will ever be more important than you."
Because who is he if he lets some article affect the way he sees you? He's known you since the beginning of your career and he stayed til the end of it.
He knows you better than everyone else. He was with you during your highs and lows and he'll still be there for the next ones. There's nothing in the world that could make him leave you. After everything he's done to have you, there's no way he'll go away.
How cowardly of him if he does. He can't leave when he's promised he'd heal you — close all of your past wounds and create other ones.
He may be selfish, but there's one thing that he isn't and it's a fucking liar. He sticks to his words, and when he says he'll never leave you, that means he'll never, never abandon you — he'll never leave your side, not even once. He can't risk it.
๑♡՞
.
.
.
taglist: @mcsalterego @blueberryarchive @gyukookswhore @bloopkook @ot72025 @mrsminho @ownthesunshine @dahliadaenerys
2K notes · View notes
dreamescapeswriting · 8 months
Text
Surprise Visits ~ PJM
Tumblr media Tumblr media
WORD COUNT: 2K
PAIRING: jimin x Fem!Reader
GENRE: fluffy, angst, fighting with a fluffy ending, cute soft jimin, idol reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2023
⤜MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
As soon as Jimin had seen it on his schedule that he was in the rehearsal studio before you, he knew that he had to come and see you earlier than he had planned to. It had been almost 8 days since the two of you had gotten to spend any time alone together and it would be a lie if he said he didn't miss you. It wasn't as though you were overly clingy with one another but you were young and very much in love the relationship wasn't even new to one another anymore, you'd been together for almost eight years and still going strong with every second. 
Everyone who knew you thought the honeymoon phase would be over sooner and none of them would have imagined your honeymoon phase would stay like this but just lately Jimin noticed things were strained between you both. Jimin kept putting it down to the fact that it was the release of your solo debut taking off and you'd been so busy preparing for it that you'd barely had time for yourself anymore. This was part of the reason he’d shown up today, at least this way the two of you could have at least five minutes together before you’d have to go on the stage but judging by the state of the practice room, you weren’t even here yet. 
There were interns running around and mumbling to one another, while some of your dancers were anxiously looking at the time and muttering your name to one another. There were fifteen minutes before you were due on the stage and it was beginning to stress out everyone inside of the room.
"Where's Yn?" Jimin asked one of the dancers as he walked into the room, the teen boy turned to look at Jimin before shrugging his shoulders, none of them had seen you that morning even though your rehearsal was supposed to have started hours ago and they worried you’d backed out of showing up altogether - though none of them was saying that thought out loud just yet.
"Noona hasn't shown up yet," He muttered before walking away from Jimin and going to make sure his costume was properly fitted before he had to get ready to be on stage. Jimin took the flowers he’d bought for you and put them on the table, it was your bouquet of all your favourite flowers with a small card attached. It wasn’t the only thing Jimin had bought with him today though, after you’d finished your show there was going to be a catering service to serve you and all your dancers.
"What?" Worry flooded Jimin as he frowned looking at his phone for any sign that you'd text him but there was nothing there, not even a good morning text now that he came to think about it. It wasn't like you not to text him in the morning and it was a little worrying now that he thought about it. Your routine was like clockwork by now, 5 am you would wake up, go to your gym and shower then following that you’d usually text or call Jimin to wish him a good morning - depending on whether or not he was awake that morning or not but either way there would ALWAYS be some kind of text or call to let him know you were awake. Had you managed to sleep in on one of the most important days of your career? It seemed impossible to Jimin, especially since you had about 6 alarms as well as an alarm that shook your entire bed so that you would wake up in the mornings.
"She's never normally late to practice." Someone grumbled from beside Jimin which did nothing to ease the uneasiness that was growing in the pit of his stomach. Searching through his contact information he clicked your name and lifted his phone to your ear but frowned as it went straight to your voicemail message,
“It’s Yn, I can't get to the phone right now but leave me a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can!” Your voicemail was the same as it always was and he sighed a little, quickly leaving a small message for you to call him back as soon as possible and he did his best not to sound worried about you. 
Once he was off the phone he shot you a text as well,
Jimin: 9:45 am: Hey, you doing okay? It’s okay to be nervous and if you need me, I’m right here. Xx
If there was even a chance that you wanted to run away from all of this then Jimin would be right there by your side, ready to take you wherever you needed to go. Even though he knew that debuting was your dream he also wanted to be there for you if you didn’t think you could go through with it, anything you needed Jimin was your man.
Tumblr media
As the minutes ticked by there was only a minute until you were due on the stage and no messages had been answered, nor had you turned your phone back on since every call Jimin was trying to make to you was going right to your answering machine. Things were starting to look a little bleak and people inside of the room were starting to get more and more worried. 
“I’m so sorry!” You screamed as you walked into the room, your head thrown back in laughter as you walked into the room. Your eyes landed on all of your dancers as you realised just how worried they all seemed to be.
“We got stuck in traffic, there was an incident coming down the road.” You explained, your cheeks aching from how hard you’d been laughing for the last fifteen minutes. You’d been on your way to work that morning when a group of workmen dropped a large glass window in the road leaving glass in every which direction and you were stuck. There was no way your car was going to get through in time so you’d been forced to walk on the streets, luckily though you’d met up with Dae-Hyun - your dance partner for your song today. He would ride his bike to work but as soon as he saw you the two of you had started a nice walk together, and soon it had turned into a laughing fit as you talked about things. 
“You’ve got to go and get ready,” Your manager - Jinso - said not looking very impressed with just how late you’d shown up,
“I’m going, I promise. I’m so sorry.” She held her hand up to you, she didn’t want to hear apologises, all she wanted was for you ready and on that stage within the next two minutes. You smiled, quickly kissing her cheek before sprinting back of the room not even noticing your boyfriend who had been waiting for you to look at him - flowers in hand. Dae-Hyun was smirking to himself as he took his outfit from one of the managers inside the room, Jimin had always had a disliking toward him which had only grown since he became your dancer. The two of you were closer than close and Jimin had always tried to look at it as if the roles were reversed, you’d never gotten overly jealous or possessive when Jimin had a female partner and he was doing his utmost best to keep himself from going insane thinking about the two of you together.
But it didn’t feel good when he’d been texting and calling you all morning to find out where you were and you came strolling in with Dae-hyun, his arm around your waist as you both laughed among one another barely even noticing Jimin inside of the room.
“Let’s go, everyone!” Your manager screamed out, clapping her hands together as Jimin stared at Dae-Hyun, the two men making eye contact as Dae-Hyun turned his back on him going to rush and get ready for the stage. Jimin stared down at the flowers in his hands, suddenly feeling stupid for even coming here when you were too busy to care about anything else this morning and he would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt.
Tumblr media
Once your performance was over and you’d given the last on-stage interview you headed back to your practice room covered in sweat and waiting to see Jimin. You’d known he was in the room after you and you were very much looking forward to celebrating with him but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a bouquet waiting for you.
To, my love,
Good luck with today! You’re going to knock it out of the park!
~Jimin
You bit down on your lip as you flipped the card over to see directions to the parking lot of the building you were in, without changing out of your stage outfit or showering you followed them hoping to find Jimin waiting for you there but once you were there. There was no sign of him, all of your dancers and even your manager were enjoying the food and coffee trucks he’d supplied for you, your photos plastered all over the banners.
“Noona, did you see? Jimin-Hyung did all of this for you,” JP- one of the younger dancers you had said to you, your heart sinking as you smiled weakly.
“Is he here?” You looked at the teenager who looked around before shaking his head,
“Haven’t seen him since before you went on stage. He came by to surprise you I think.” Your heart broke a little as you thought about Jimin waiting for you all morning while you’d strolled in late and not even noticed him standing there. God, he must hate you right now. Especially since you’d walked in with Dae-hyun of all people holding you around the waist. You knew Dae-hyun made Jimin feel uneasy and you hated that he’d had to bare witness to the two of you acting so friendly with one another even if there was never anything between the two of you.
“Enjoy the food, I’m going to go and find Jimin,” You told JP before walking back into the building to go and grab your things, calling a cab as quickly as you could to take you back to your place.
Tumblr media
As soon as you were home you saw Jimin sitting in the living room waiting for you, some small banners were hung up inside of the space and you smiled a little at the sight, your heart warming a little as you thought of all the effort he went through for you.
“You didn’t have to do all of this,” You pointed at the signs and then to the small card and flowers that you were carrying in your hand, Jimin shrugged his shoulders. His mood had started to deteriorate ever since he’d seen you with Dae-hyun and he knew there was no reason to take it out on you but he couldn’t help it when it hurt as much as it did.
“No big deal,” He grumbled before you walked over to him, sitting beside him and cuddling into his side. Your head resting on his shoulder as you took his hand into yours, 
“I’m sorry I was late. I turned my phone on and I got all of your messages,” You looked at him as he looked at you, a weak smile forming on his lips as he did his best to get out of his mood.
“I watched the performance, I only left when you started your interviews,” He promised, kissing your cheek softly as he began to tell you what an amazing job you’d done on your debut stage. You’d been so nervous about the whole thing but after running late that morning you were too rushed around to even think about being nervous which was nice for a while.
“Did you get any food?” He questioned as he took your hand in his and drew small invisible patterns into your skin,
“No, wanna order our favourites?” You smirked already reaching for the menus that you kept under the coffee table for the two of you to browse through,
“I’d love to.” He chuckled taking his favourite from you and reading through even though he already knew what he was going to get.
Tumblr media
Tagline: @chiisaiblog @rjsmochii @tinyoonsblog @sw33tnight @taestannie @cherrybubblesandvodka @acciocriativity @mitzwinchester @heyjiminnie @halesandy​ @jin-from-the-block​ @aerastus​ @namjooningelsewhere​ @psychosupernatural​ @lyoongx​ @royallyjjk​ @critssq​ @lenfilms​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @laylasbunbunny​ @meowmeowisdaname​ @imafivestarkpopstan​ @ratherbfangirling​ @backintomykpopphaseagain​
Tumblr media
225 notes · View notes
jimilter · 10 months
Text
on the borderline — 04 | pjm. (m)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Park Jimin has been your buoy, your anchor and the ship of sanity that guides you to shore amid storms of self-doubt, nearly all your life; as have you been his. That is not to say nothing has ever brewed beneath the surface of platonic friendship, or that the two of you have never been victims to mistiming. Regardless, you would never risk the friendship you have with him now for anything. Even if you have to hurt him – or even yourself – in the process.
pairing: jimin x reader
rating: m (18+)
genre: humor | drama | friends to lovers!au
word count: 9.3 k
— warnings: swearing + mentions of a past toxic relationship + mentions of therapy/therapists + mentions of sex (some get detailed and explicit, hence the rating!) + some descriptive r-rated daydreaming + emotional constipation at its peaK + denial at its peaK + reader is a mess throughout + jimin cooking breakfast without a shirt 🚨 (will add more if i notice anything while proofreading!)
— note: HAPPY 10 YEARS TO BANGTAN - MY LOVE, MY HEART, MY WORLD! 🥺💜 hello world, i've crawled out of the grave two months later - who remembers me? :] anyways, parts of this aren't proofread (esp the last 2k words) bec i finished jusssst in time to post this today. will edit it in a day, tops! drop me a word~
ps. the rating, genre and warnings mentioned above pertain to this chapter, only.
main masterlist | taglist | feedback?
Tumblr media
↪ series masterlist | ◃ prev ⁘ next ▹
Tumblr media
𝐈𝐕 ⇢ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 ♪ i’m sinking faster and faster
What wakes you up is the inability to move your leg. 
It’s not like you urgently need to move, either; you were just casually trying to wiggle into a more comfortable sleeping position, like everyone does at nine am on a Saturday morning, when you encountered a hindrance. Your sleep is disturbed, not out of discomfort, but more out of confusion.
Murmuring a curse under your breath, you part your crusty ass eyelids to peer at the warm and heavy human-like pillow that is laying above your blanket and restricting your movement. Wait, this pillow feels a little too giant. You do not have pillows as giant as—
Holy shit, it’s Jimin!
With a deep and loud and dramatic gasp, last night rushes back to you.
The wine, the movie, the kiss you initiated to prove that you and Jimin could kiss without making things weird – great joke, by the way – the kiss Jimin then initiated God knows why, the really good making out and the…
Fuck, the way he ate you out? You don’t remember the last time someone did it so—
Feeling your cheeks starting to heat up, you snap out of it. He’s Jimin, for fuck’s sake! Park jimin! Your childhood best friend, Park Jimin!
Your childhood best friend Park Jimin who is fantastic in bed—
No. Nope.
This is serious. And it’s bad.
Oh, God this is bad.
The heat that was climbing up your cheeks has now rerouted to your head, and your brain is slowly vaporizing under the tension.
Meanwhile, Jimin is fucking snoring away like an oblivious, angelic fucker. What? No, not angelic, no matter how soft his pouted lips look when he’s asleep, he was a demon with you in this very bed.
Almost subconsciously, you reach behind you to run a hand across the skin of your butt. It’s squeaky clean. Did he clean you up after you’d fallen asleep?
Blinking, you snap yourself out of the tender thoughts. This is no place to be thinking how good of a friend he was for cleaning you up when the reason why you were dirty had no friendly causes, whatsoever.
“Jimin!” you hoarsely call out to him, voice scratchy like sandpaper and honestly, too damn low to wake up your best friend who sleeps like a log.
Sitting up under the constricting blanket with difficulty, you scowl at him and shove his shoulder. 
“Park Jimin! Wake the fuck up!”
No movement, not even a change in his breathing pattern, not even a lapse in the muted snores.
“Jimin!” you try a little louder this time, patting his cheek – so soft and warm, it’s hard to remove your hand from it – and he finally stirs. “Hey, wake up!”
Petulantly whining, he turns his head to the other side. “W’ass th’ime?”
What? Oh, time? 
You check your bedside clock. “Uh, it’s nine. Oh fuck! You have a flight at noon! Wake up, Jimin!”
He groans and tries to fucking turn away. “I can get ready in an hour… Lemme just… th’rty minuhs…”
“Jimin, oh my God—” You break off, choosing to instead tug the blankets off him.
And. Well. It backfires, because he’s as naked as you underneath that. Almost involuntarily, your gaze traces his defined pectorals and travels down across his very prominent abdominal muscles, and then – 
You shut your eyes.
He’s hard.
Swallowing roughly, you clumsily tug the blanket back up to his waist, shivering a little when your fingers accidentally brush his warm skin.
“Jimin,” you begin again, weakly, “please wake up. We really need to talk.”
That makes him sigh and finally crack one eye open to peer up at you. “What do you—”
His lips part, scanning the way you sit with your shoulders bare and covers held up to your chest.
“Oh.”
You can see the moment recollection makes it back to him, both eyes opening, now and widening just a fraction. Then he exhales and promptly shuts his eyes again.
What?
Is he going back to sleep?
“Jimin, what the fuck? Get up!”
With a grumpy whine, Jimin finally moves to sit up in bed, scowling at you with his whole face and looking absolutely adorable. Wait, no—
“What is it?” he murmurs through his pouty mouth, eyes swollen and barely open. “What couldn’t wait for thirty fucking minutes?”
Your jaw slowly drops. “Do… you do remember that we had sex last night, right?”
He nods. “Couldn’t be more obvious.” He points at a dark mark on your chest peeking above the blanket you’ve wrapped around yourself.
Tugging the damn cloth higher up, you gape at the guy. He sits simply blinking at you, and you can’t tell if he’s just sleepy or really that unbothered. “And…? Doesn’t it, like, bother you? At all?”
“Bother me?” He frowns and cocks his head to the side, looking at you as if you’re speaking a language he can’t understand. 
“Jimin. We had sex.”
He blinks again, nonchalant as fuck, and then nods. “Yes, we did.”
At your wit’s end, you fist your free hand in your hair. “Dude. We – we had sex. It… It…”
Your stuttering, already mortifying in itself, gets tenfold worse when you can’t find the words to express yourself. Or maybe you do have the words, but you’re not sure how to voice how shockingly your world has been turned upside down when the other half of the involved party looks this cool about it. You are starting to feel like you’re making a big deal out of nothing – but you know it’s not fucking nothing!
“It was… amazing?” Jimin finishes for you with raised eyebrows, looking more awake but still as unbothered, and that is absolutely not where you were going with your sentence. But he’s not done: “Fantastic? Uncannily good and possibly the best sex you’ve had in a while? ’Cause same.”
And now he’s grinning at you and you’re at a loss. Frowning furiously to hone your focus in when your head has started to ache, you shake your head and try again. “Ye–yeah, all – all of that, yes, but also something that shouldn’t have happened!”
Jimin’s eyes narrow at you. “Are you trying to tell me you regret it?”
“Yes! Obviously! You don’t?”
“Why would I?” He shrugs his shoulders and brushes a hand through his hair, not a single expression changing on his face. “It was really good, we used protection and—”
“Okay, stop!” You interrupt him with a wince, eyes screwed shut. “I cannot do this without coffee.”
"I—wow. Maybe I can't do this with a coffee either.” You have frozen at the entrance to your kitchen to gape at the sight of your best friend's shirtless back as he sears something in a pan on the stove. “Not without a whole fucking pot of it.”
At your declaration, Jimin turns his head to cock an eyebrow at you over a shoulder, and you shoot a curse at yourself in your head for the clench your insides give. He looks so good like this. It's so wrong and wholly unfair.
Because you have hung out with a shirtless Jimin plenty of times in your life. You’ve objectively admired his build, too, because one – it has been your duty as his best friend and regular wingwoman to give him reviews, and two – for a female that likes men, you’d have to have been a saint to not admire his beautiful body, like, come on.
But never have you ever had such a visceral reaction to the sight. This is what you get for getting to know all those solid muscles up close and personal and freaking tasting his skin, you’ve been so fucking stupid, good God—
"Please put on a shirt, man," you sigh, attempting to avert your eyes but failing.
Jimin, the absolute dick, rolls his eyes at your request. And then just snorts at you and turns back to the stove, as if he finds the suggestion hilarious. As if you're not seconds away from throwing yourself at him and damaging your friendship more than it has been damaged so far. 
Why is he acting so normal? You’re starting to hate your best friend.
After your conversation had been halted in the bedroom, you left the bed to wash your face and throw on a fresh hoodie because you did not wanna wear the one that’s been sitting on your living room floor all night, not when it reminds you of where and how Jimin ate you out. Dear God. You also stole some coffee from the pot while Jimin washed his face. After which you tossed him out to brush your teeth because your mouth tasted like ass, and assumed he'd use the time to dress up because he had to leave soon.
You did not expect the very domestic sight of him cooking – let alone the very erotic version of it that his state of undress depicts.
And now you're experiencing a meltdown because the man's back muscles are visibly rippling with his motions. The slight bruises you've caused by running your nails across them shine a brilliant red against the taut, golden skin. Taunting you. Reminding you of how you lost your goddamn mind, last night.
You feel embarrassed. But you also feel horny.
Which makes you feel doubly embarrassed.
The guy stays completely unbothered, though, humming to himself and fiddling with the damn omelet he's making that smells too fucking good and makes your stomach rumble.
Why is he making your life so difficult, in every single way?
Sighing, you collect all remnants of your willpower, sanity and self-respect, to turn away and stomp your way back to your bedroom. Grabbing a hoodie from your closet, you stomp your way back to the kitchen, this time stepping in and bravely walking up to your best friend, and press the article of clothing into his back.
"Min. Please just put some clothes on and let me have a full cup of coffee. Please."
This time Jimin fully turns to face you with amusement in his eyes and concealed laughter on his lips if the way he's got them pursed is anything to go by. You resolutely do not look beyond his face, instead turning your gaze to the tamagoyaki this man has expertly whipped up in the time it took for you to brush your teeth.
"This looks so good, how'd you make it?"
Jimin steps away with a laugh, finally accepting the hoodie from you to throw it on. "You had an appropriate pan and nice, bamboo chopsticks. That's all it takes."
That is not all it takes, but you're gonna stop arguing because the three sips of coffee that you could stomach with your unbrushed mouth have been exhausted by this interaction and you need more fuel to go on.
So you and Jimin find yourselves on your kitchen island with the Japanese omelet, a pot of coffee and your respective mugs, quietly eating, sipping and holding a staring contest.
Because now that he's appropriately covered, all the reasons why last night was a horrific idea have made their way back to you. You feel like this is the last time you're sitting and eating together, and it's becoming increasingly hard to stomach the impossibly delicious omelet Jimin has prepared.
He is the one to eventually break the stare, giggling at you when you glare at him over the rim of your mug. “Stop looking so mad, babe. So maybe last night shouldn’t have happened, but at least it was good, yeah?”
“How can you be so fucking happy and calm when I’m literally going through an existential crisis, right now?”
Amusement in his curved eyebrows, Jimin hums as he takes a sip from his cup. “Ever heard of post-orgasmic afterglow?”
“For fuck’s sake, Min!” Throwing your head back, you release a groan. “We really got drunk and put our friendship on the line! We – we swore we’d never do anything to jeopardize our bond and then we have sex like some stupid horny teenagers? Last night should not have happened, Jimin!”
That makes him clear his throat and stop laughing. And then, with the most straight face ever, he asks you: “Okay, but at least the sex was good, right?”
You are fucking dumbfounded. “The sex—”
“Was it or wasn’t it? You haven’t said a word about the quality of the sex and I’m starting to get worried…”
“Jesus Christ, yes, it was fucking bomb, but—”
“Well, then that's one win!” He claps his hand together, stepping off his seat to walk up to you and put both his palms on your shoulders. “Now that we are past that, rest assured that this won’t affect our friendship. I promise.”
“You can’t promise that—”
“I can and I am. I’ve known you since we were, like, twelve.”
“I hated you when we were twelve,” you remind him with a pout.
He laughs at that. “Yeah, but you also had a crush on me when we were thirteen, so explain that, huh?”
Despite the events of last night, his mention of your past crush on him still manages to make your cheeks heat up. Doesn’t help that he looks like this when he’s talking about it, all soft in the huge hoodie you basically forced him, a sweet smile pulling his lips up and eyes sparkling.
“We are way beyond ruining our friendship, trust me,” he tells you again, jostling you by your shoulders. “And honestly, this doesn’t have to affect anything if we don’t let it. So we have great sexual chemistry. Honestly, are you really that surprised?”
You’re really not because your brain has been going wild ever since his birthday party, but what the hell does he mean by that?
At your wide eyes, he throws his head back in a laughter.
“Hasn’t it always been like that between us?”
“Like what?” You feel so fucking clueless, you’re half afraid Jimin’s about to call you out on your confession of your fantasizing and you’re bracing yourself for the embarrassment.
“We get on each other’s nerves all the time, but we also love each other. Those sorts of things tend to build sexual tension, dude,” he explains as if he's telling you about a scientific experiment, and you shove his hands off of you with a scowl.
“You didn’t just talk about our supposed sexual tension and then call me dude in the same sentence, weirdo.”
He’s laughing now, eyes disappearing in a squint as his cheeks push up into them, and the sight is too endearing for you to not smile in adoration. “My point was,” he finally concludes, “that we can make it work. It doesn’t have to happen again, we don’t even have to ever talk about it.”
You like the sound of that. Humming, you take a sip from your coffee and nod. “That sounds like something I'd like to do. Can we put this in the past forever?”
“Yes, we can.” Jimin nods, giving you a thumbs-up before he raises his eyebrows. “I mean, I can’t promise I won’t make jokes about some stuff, because, boy do you have the weirdest erogenous zones. The way you went crazy when I bit into your shoulder? I mean who—”
“Hey, shut the fuck up! I have normal erogenous zones!” You seamlessly slip into the banter, pointing a finger at him. “It’s you that has an ass fetish. You exploded at the sight of my ass!”
A loud gasp leaves him and Jimin places a hand on his chest. “Are you trying to kink shame me?”
“You started it!”
“But you made it worse.” Jimin sighs, dramatically pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know what? You were right. Sleeping with your best friend is a bad idea, and this is why. You already know each other inside out, the only thing you’re unaware of is each other’s sexual lunacy. Now we’ve broken that barrier, we’re absolutely gonna kill each other.”
You’re barely able to keep your face straight after that, breaking into loud laughter. Because he isn’t wrong. You know for a fact you have never had that reaction to being bitten on the shoulder, obviously. Not that you can even recall someone’s teeth being there. But with Jimin, it was just something about him that did the trick. 
His joke alleviates the pressure that this realization could bear down on your chest, though, and that feels a lot freeing.
Maybe this can be okay. Maybe you can move forward without a wall of awkwardness rising between you two.
You will move on with your lives and treat last night as something that came your way – and then passed. Kind of like your crushes on each other during your teenage years. It helped that they never really coincided, but it also had to have helped that you never gave them enough importance to even discuss what you had felt, at the time.
Maybe you shouldn’t be giving this as much importance, either.
It’s you and Jimin! Homies! Bros for life, remember?
Yes, you absolutely do.
So you lean in to hug the guy. “This cannot change anything, okay? Please.”
“It won’t if we don’t let it, you crazy woman.” He laughs but loops his arms around you to tug you closer. “And I don't intend to let that happen.”
You don’t either.
You don’t.
You really don’t.
But…being this close to him is giving you flashbacks to being this close to him when you were naked, and that is making you feel hella hypocritical. Maybe this is just your version of an afterglow; maybe your brain's still high on serotonin. You’ll get over it after this heady rush of last night's multiple orgasms has left. 
Clearing your throat, you separate from him with a tight smile – only to come face to face with a blooming purple and red mark at the base of his throat.
“Fuck, I left a mark!”
Jimin tries to follow your gaze with a cocked eyebrow, but when he can’t, you place a finger against the spot, smudging it as if you’re trying to wipe lipstick off. Which Jimin snorts at, “Yeah, that’s not gonna erase a hickey, ma'am.”
Jimin’s snickering is met by your groan, and you push a finger into his chest. “Please cover that up before you leave for your trip. And keep it covered? You’ve packed turtlenecks, right? You’re obsessed with them!”
Laughter trickles through Jimin, nostrils flared because he has his lips folded in to hold it in. “Why? I could just tell them my girlfriend gave them to me as a parting gift. No one'll question me, anyways.” 
“Dude, you’re going with Tara! And I had a very long conversation with Avni, and—” You break off, unsure about divulging the details of that conversation. “And she…knows we’re just friends.”
“Oh, yeah. Tara. She, um, she’s not the type to ask questions, you know?”
Now that he’s kinda awkwardly looking away and stumbling with his sentence again, you’re reminded of the way he’d stuttered about Tara's name on the phone as well. From what you know, the girl has a husband. Why is your best friend being so suspicious about her?
“But I could always say someone else did this.”
Now wait just a second. Why does that make you wanna scowl?
What kind of teenager shit is this? ‘I worked on this hickey, don’t give someone else the credit?’
God, you need an aspirin.
His dick game really has you hovering in a limbo. But to be fair, it hasn’t even been a whole twelve hours ever since you got into it.
This is definitely gonna take you some time to get over.
Good thing Jimin’s leaving for the next few days, then.
“Do whatever, just – I don’t wanna hear your secretary telling any more of your clients about your girlfriend visiting your office, okay?”
He blinks at you, lips pouted in mock innocence. “Even if it's not you?”
“What? No! Our pact still holds!”
“What if you and Seokjin hit it off tonight, though?”
Seok—
Holy shit, you forgot about Seokjin!
What the fuck is wrong with you? You have a maybe-can-be-probably date with a guy and you literally slept with someone else the night before? It’s obviously worse that it was your best friend, but even so. How did you not even remember about the date? 
Wow, you hoe. This is a new low.
And damn, you and Jimin never ended up having that discussion about your ability to recognize your feelings, after all.
Well. After the events of last night, you don’t think you’ll be needing that conversation, after all. It’s bad enough that you had sex with someone other than the guy you’re going to dinner with, the least you can do is respect both the men enough to not make it a date.
Even as the narrative plays out in your head, you know you’re mostly making excuses. And maybe that should be enough to tell you how desperately your subconscious does not wanna get back into the aspects of romance.
If only the people around you (read: Park Meddling Jimin) could understand as much.
“I really don’t think that’s happening, Min,” you simply state in response, deciding to keep all of your thoughts to yourself for once. 
And Jimin, for once, takes it simply enough, nodding with a small smile. “Well. I still hope you have a good time with him.” He checks his phone, and then gathers you in a quick side hug. “It’s close to ten, I gotta run. See you some time next week?”
You nod. “But stay in touch, okay?”
“Of course! And you too – keep me updated about how things go!” When you scowl, he laughs. “Even if you stay friends, grumpkin.”
“Stop trying to make that happen, it’s not gonna happen!” You push at him and he rolls his eyes with a giggle.
“Sure, Regina George.”
Waving at him, you laugh as Jimin quickly stuffs his last night’s rolled up clothes in a backpack he’s borrowing from you and grabs his glasses from the clutter on your coffee table.
“Have a safe flight, Gretchen!”
“Shut up! Will text you after I land!”
“You do that, Min!”
And then he’s slipping out of the door, dousing your apartment in silence. 
Your eyes casually move toward the coffee table that you will have to clean up, and accidentally land on the couch. 
Fuck.
There’s an immediate throb between your legs when your gaze scans the area where you… well, made out with Jimin and had him basically devour you.
Fuck, indeed.
Jimin was very correct. Last night was some of the best sex you’ve had in a while.
In a really long while.
It’s gonna you take longer than a few days to get over it. How Jimin was able to get back to normal so easily is beyond you. 
But then again – maybe he was putting up a front because he knew he’d be leaving for two days and will be able to get your mind off of last night.
Damn, he’ll be back in just two days? Shit, that doesn’t feel like a nearly big enough time period all of a sudden.
Especially right now when you’re cleaning up your coffee table with your throat dry and your panties wet. You’ll never be able to have him over because every time he sits on this couch, you’ll be reminded of last night.
Fuck, maybe you can never even talk to him normally because every time you look at his lips, you won’t even have to imagine what they can do to you because you now know what they can do to you. 
How the hell are you gonna face him in two days?
You're broken out of your thoughts by the ping of a message on your phone.
10:17 AM | Text Message from Seokjin (office) Hey, we never discussed how we're meeting! Would you like me to pick you up?
You suck in a sharp breath. Seokjin. The date.
Right.
This does not feel right, good God.
A grimace on your face, you type in your response, asking the guy to meet you at the restaurant. You are not showing him your place, just yet. Or at all. And you do not wish to be in another guy’s car when the smell of your best friend’s cologne mixed with the musk of his cum is still stuck to your fucking lungs.
For a brief moment, you wonder if you should cancel the date. 
But then you recall the conversation you had with Jimin less than half an hour ago.
This cannot change anything, okay? Please.
It won’t if we don’t let it, you crazy woman. And I don't intend to let that happen. 
You don’t intend to let that happen, either, which is what stops you from canceling the date.
Besides, maybe hanging out with a guy you’ve been admiring and flirting with might actually help? Now that you’ve established that last night’s activities have to be water under the bridge, there’s nothing wrong with attempting to find a distraction to help you cross that bridge, right?
Jimin, for one, seems to want you to do that really bad. 
A weird feeling tugs at your stomach when you recall his insistence on you working things out romantically with Seokjin. But because you already have a huge pile of dogshit on your plate to deal with, you refuse to think further about the pang and instead attempt to focus on the outfit you will be wearing.
Tumblr media
You end up wearing a knee length, a-line dress with no sleeves – the right amount of pretty, hot and available, without being too much. It’s a deep navy in color, but no surprise there because ninety percent of your closet comprises dark shades of blues.
On your short drive to the Korean BBQ place you are to meet up with Seokjin at, you blast The Weeknd at full volume and enjoy a solo karaoke of Starboy. When you get there, you drop a text to your date and receive an immediate reply telling you the location of the table he’s sat on.
He’s here before you which would leave you no time to compose yourself before you face the guy. Good thing you were a mother-effing starboy in the car, five minutes ago.
Inhaling deeply and then exhaling, you exit your car and elegantly walk up to the cute entrance to the restaurant. The place’s ambience kinda surprises you because it looks a lot upscale than the usual KBBQ places you’re used to frequenting. Gold and white aesthetics surround you, not ideal for a place which deals in smoking food, but the level of cleanliness that the decor still manages to maintain has you humming in appreciation. 
But then again, you shouldn't be surprised – Kim Seokjin eludes lavishness. 
Speaking of, you’re able to spot the man the moment you step foot into the place. And, admittedly, his crisp suit jacket and combed back hair make you space out so hard, you miss the doorman’s whole greeting. Seokjin immediately catches your eye, too, curling his plump lips into that smirk he flashes at people when he knows he’s got them under his spell.
Well. He’s not wrong, there.
Walking up to him – only after bowing at the doorman, because mama didn’t raise a mannerless bitch – you smile at his sweet gesture of pulling a chair out for you. Even the chimney above your table has intricate carvings on it, looking like something out of a royal kitchen.
When he’s finally seated back in his place across from you and has allowed his smirk to bloom into a full smile, you nod your head in polite greeting. “You look good today.”
Seokjin waves a hand of perfectly manicured nails and delicate rings in front of his face. “Oh, please. I look good everyday.”
Uh…
Did you mishear him? The place is buzzing but it’s not that loud. 
But given the serene smile on his face, he doesn’t look like he just made a joke. Yeah, you must have misheard him.
“You look absolutely gorgeous.”
Wow, the pace at which heat fills your cheeks is so embarrassing. Jimin would never let you live it down if he knew, especially given what all you managed to get up to without any blushing business, last—
Okay, what the fuck?
You hope Seokjin doesn’t notice the momentary panicked widening of your eyes. 
Did you really just almost think about the one event in your life that you’re supposed to forget about? Granted, it happened less than 24 hours ago – but you’re on a date. With another guy. And he just complimented you.
At this point, you should really be ashamed of yourself.
“Th–thank you, hehe.”
Did you just stutter? And fake-giggle?
Good God, you’re going to cry. This isn’t the afterglow the world promised you.
Thankfully, Seokjin jumps to discussing food straight away without attempting any small talk. And he’s pretty enthusiastic about it, too – asking for all his favorite side dishes and then encouraging you to add on yours to the order as well.
“Do you, um, come here often?” It takes you a while to frame that question but as soon as it is out of your mouth, you immediately realize that it can sound like you’re asking him if he’s been on other dates here. Often.
Your social skills are on an all time low tonight, God help you…
But Seokjin, thankfully, doesn’t think that far and simply nods. “Oh, yes. I know the manager, so I’ve been coming here since they opened a year ago.”
Ah, so he’s somewhat of a social butterfly.
Immediately, your brain wants to switch to thinking of another social butterfly in your life and make unnecessary comparisons – but you stop that line of thought before it can take form, by smiling wide at Seokjin. He’s so fucking handsome and you’re honestly just wasting it.
“That’s nice! Does he offer you discounts?” Your sense of humor might be broken, but at least this embarrassment stays on the surface and doesn’t make you wanna hide beneath the table.
Chuckling at your question, Seokjin leans over the table and gestures for you to lean closer as well – which you do. “The dude’s actually my brother in law, so fat chance, I’d say.”
You laugh a little louder than necessary on the joke, partially giggling out of relief that your lame ass joke didn’t get rejected.
He might not get discounts, but the service for your table definitely seems to be a little faster and more full of smiles than it is for the other patrons. Well. You're not complaining.
Seokjin smiles and nods at your server as well, respectfully tucking his hands in his lap to allow the guy enough room to set your table. After the server leaves, Seokjin is quick to set arrange the meat on the furnace – hands moving expertly as he twists and turns the strips around according to the level of cooking each portion requires.
He is a gentleman to the tee, cutting the meat up for you and everything, but is also careful about boundaries because he forwards his chopstick to your plate and not your mouth. Although you're sure your dumbass would have opened your mouth to accept the bite if he would’ve offered, too, without realizing the implications of letting your date feed you.
"Good?"
You hold back a moan when the soft and tender meat melts in your mouth, instead choosing to cover your lips daintily with a hand and nod at Seokjin with wide eyes. A comment about you being pronographic with food from a certain someone crosses your mind, and you resist the urge to sob out loud because you need to stop thinking about last night. 
"So good," you manage to murmur back, giving Seokjin a thumbs up with your chopstick hand.
He grins at you before taking a bite himself, and – oh, man. He certainly doesn't hold back on the moans. You're barely able to contain your reaction when the man suddenly throws his head back and releases a deep groan that travels through your body in vibrations.
There's no way to stop your brain from bursting out a whole NSFW scenario, now, that features you on your knees between the man's legs, swallowing his dick as if it's your last meal on earth. 
Damn. Man’s never even mentioned if he even has any romantic intentions with this whole thing or if he’s just treating you because he felt bad for you missing out on the group outing yesterday – and here you are, being obscene about him enjoying his food. How very pathetic of you.
It gets worse, though, because Seokjin suddenly opens his eyes and meets your gaze that you know for a fact has gotten all heavy lidded and dark. Evidenced by the way his eyebrows slowly rise up and tongue flicks out to lick away the remnants of grease from his bottom lip.
"It is good," he murmurs, winking at you.
Yeah no, he's definitely got at least flirtatious intentions. A little flustered, you clear your throat and look away from him, picking up a slice of pickled radish to distract yourself. 
"So…" Seokjin begins and then pauses, causing your gaze to connect with his again because he isn't the type to really hesitate. 
But there's a slight dusting of pink on his cheekbones right now that could very well be a result of the heat from the grill – but the undertones of grimace behind his smile suggest to you that it's not. Oh dear. Is he nervous?
"Just so we are on the same page… I'd been planning to do this for a while now."
A… while? He's not about to profess his undying love, is he? Your back straightens in alarm, but you force your lips to form a grin. "Ask me on a… date?"
He shrugs a shoulder, tilting his head. "Not necessarily a date, no. Just spending time with you one-on-one."
Oh, thank fuck.
"I know it's not just me that feels like this pull between us, right?"
Yep, it's not just him. Although you won't exactly call it a pull. It's a tap, at best. Or even a touchless beckoning? You weren't lying when you said you only objectively admire his good looks.
But you're not about to tell him that.
Smiling at him, you nod. "We're on the same page, then. It's not just you. But… why didn't you?"
"Why didn't I what?"
"Ask to do this earlier?"
And you do genuinely wonder. Because now, too, he's almost tricked you into this instead of being forthright with it. You're, like, seventy-eight percent sure you'd have rejected him if he mentioned the word date, but he doesn't know that. Or does he?
Your eyes narrow slightly as Seokjin gives a self-conscious cough of laughter, hand behind his neck. "Well, I wasn't really sure you were… y'know, available?"
Now hold on a second – that's bullshit. You've never made it a secret that you've been as single as they come, ever since you joined this company three years back. Well, you've also made it known that you aren't exactly available either, but what are the odds of Seokjin completely missing the first half and yet catching onto the second one? 
Unless you mixed it up and made it seem that you are unavailable because you had somebody? Oops.
"What do you mean?" you ask him with a light chuckle, leaning towards the table as he reduces the heat on the grill. 
He rolls his eyes, looking at you with a small smile that feels a tad condescending; as if he's about to go, ‘oh, you poor child,’ on you. "That friend of yours? He began to come around a lot, picking you up after work every other day and stuff. I assumed you'd started seeing someone. We all did.”
“Jimin…?” you mumble in surprise because you'd been so eager to spend every minute of your free time with him when you moved to town that you never paused to consider how it looked. "No, we're just friends! He's my best friend, and we're close. But there's nothing there."
Oh no. Why are you talking about him? You were supposed to not even think of the guy – why did you begin to discuss him?
Well now it's too late, because the can of worms has been opened. Now your thoughts are cascading on themselves like a glitching Windows XP screen. 
Your brain's been sent into an obscene overdrive – as if you’d been holding the gates shut to all these images with your back pressed against them and now they’ve been pushed open by this huge wave that flattens you to the ground and engulfs you in itself. And suddenly, you’re reliving it – his hot exhale against your neck, fingers gripping at your hips, tongue flicking over your nipple, teeth digging your flesh.
Best friend? Right. 
Sweat is trailing down your neck and your gaze is stuck unseeingly in your plate full of food that Seokjin has deposited there for your consumption.
Seokjin.
Fuck.
You’re on a fucking date – with another guy.
What the fuck are you doing?
"So yeah,” escapes you in a broken imitation of a chuckle when Seokjin nods, while you try to suppress the slight tremble in your hand when you wave it before your face to emphasize words. “He's just a friend.”
Who gave you the best pounding of your life, but that’s the fine print no one likes to read.
“Yes, yes, I’ve gathered as much now.” Seokjin’s smile is so wholesome, you feel like you’re violating his aura by breathing the same air as him when your mind's so pathetically filthy. “So… about that same page conversation – what do you expect out of this? A casual hangout? Friendship? Something…more?"
Wow, so this guy is actually a pretty cool guy if you look beyond the narcissism, the overenthusiasm and the noseyness. Quite a list to look beyond, but you do reckon him to at least be friendship material with the thoughtfulness his question displays.
The question, though. What do you expect?
Exhaling, you lean back in your seat and squint into space to think about it. You can’t exactly tell him that you're not the least bit emotionally invested in this and would have just tried to get into his pants if it wasn’t for your best friend’s insistence. But number one: you can’t exactly lie to him because that’d be blatantly leading him on and potentially hurting him; number two: he didn't really present you with an option fitting for this.
You need to find a middle ground. 
Because for wholly selfish reasons that you shouldn’t even be involving Seokjin in, you need his company. You need him as a friend, as a potential bed-mate if he's interested. You need him as someone you can spend time with so as to not spend all of it with the one person who's had your brain in a blender since last night. But friendzoning him isn't the way to go, so you're gonna need a second, third, fourth date – whatever number it takes for you to heal the chemical explosion in your head and be a normal human again.
So you need to find a middle ground.
Which just so happens to be you smirking right back at the guy and giving a carefree shrug. "How about a casual hangout with the potential of a friendship with the side of… something else?"
Seokjin bites down on his bottom lip before he smiles again giving you that knowing, tad condescending smirking pull of his lips. Leaning closer to mimic your position, he raises a tentative finger and traces the back of your hand with it, gaze dark but playful. "Sounds fun."
You turn your hand over to allow his fingers to trace the soft, more sensitive skin of your palm instead, grinning at him. "I am fun."
Snorting, he withdraws himself and nods at you. "And funny. I like it."
The compliment makes you grin wider, even though his standards of 'funny' are sure to be questionable with the kind of jokes you've seen him make and laugh at.
The two of you lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence after that, focus shifted to the food. A few words about the quality of the meat and the level of cooking are tossed here and there. Seokjin is definitely a food lover and definitely knows more about cooking than your average guy. He eventually tells you he used to be a good blogger in his early twenties, which you find kind of cute.
You still don't know what he actually does for a living now, however, and the question must be obvious in your squinted gaze when you're cleaning your hands with a wet wipe because kimchi juices cannot be managed by sheer tissue paper.
"I guess it's time I told you," he begins, getting up with you as the two of you prepare to leave.
You raise an eyebrow. "Tell me what?"
"About my profession."
At the reception, you're preparing to put up a fight to split the bill, when Seokjin simply asks the cashier to put this on my tab, grabs some breath mints, and walks away. Following him with a dumbfounded stare, not before popping a breath mint in your own mouth, you see the way the doorman grins at the guy before bowing and you briefly wonder exactly how often he must come here to be able to bhule up this amount of familiarity. And a whole tab.
Your question is hilariously answered the next moment, when Seokjin walks up to your car and leans against it with a smile, pointing at the building with a raise of his eyebrows.
"I own this place."
"What?" You gape at him in pure confusion. "You… the restaurant? But you… you said…"
"My brother in law's the manager, yes, but this restaurant is mine. Actually, there's a chain of these around the country and a few abroad. We started out five years ago, but… business has kinda flourished recently. You don't frequent KBBQ places often, I see."
Okay, wow. Handsome, flirty and rich? Forget being friends, this dude is total Sugar Daddy material! That, and this also explains his knowledge of food and all the free time he's always got on his hands. "Ah… that's really amazing!"
"It kinda is, if I do say so myself."
Overlooking the narcissism, you hum and move to stand next to the guy, your back against your car, arms brushing his. Despite all his red flags, Seokjin is awfully good at picking up clues, you'd give that to him. Because with a slow twist of his heeled shoes, he moves to hover above you, arms extended and hands braced on the door of your vehicle next to your shoulders.
His breath washes over your face, minty but warm, and his dark eyes pull you in. "This was fun."
You attempt to smirk at him, but your lips tremor for some unknown reason. Not to mention the weird weight that pulls at your stomach at his proximity. 
You try to goad yourself into reacting. A horny grab of his coat lapels would be better than staring at him with wide, borderline scared eyes.
What the fuck is wrong with you, you absolute idiot? Where's that imagery of getting on your knees for him now? Remember the horny rush you felt when he moaned after taking a bite of his food?
But nothing works, your throat swallowing your nerves repeatedly and yet failing to clear all of them out of you. 
Seokjin looks visibly confused at your lack of reaction, but still smiles at you for a moment and brings a hand in to cup the side of your face in his warm palm.
Alarm bells blare loud and shrill in your head, your skin tingling at the contact with his and not in a good way. 
The weight in your stomach expands upwards, pressing onto your chest, and the warm breaths on your face suddenly feel not so pleasant anymore. 
Or rather, they don't feel right.
The smell of Seokjin's woodsy cologne, his height towering over you, the calluses in his palm – everything feels wrong. 
It should be citrus, you should be tilting your head at a different angle, the calluses should be on the fingertips.
It should be Jimin.
Fuck.
You're fucked.
"I… I'm sorry, Seokjin, I.m. I don't think I can do this."
Eyes wide and almost horrified, he immediately jumps away from you with both his palms raised up. "Woah woah, did I overstep? I'm so sorry! Shit, I should've asked for your permission before stepping so close—"
"No, no, it's not you! You were reading the signs and you were reading them right." You reassure him, trying to regulate your breathing now that you finally can breathe properly. "I was into it, I swear! I mean… I thought I was into it. But I…" You sigh, placing a hand over your forehead to give an embarrassed shake of your head. "I'm sorry."
"Hey, please don't apologize." Seokjin shakes his head tenderly, looking at you with a frown that spells concern as well as confusion. But then he grins at you, clearly trying to make a joke out of the situation to ease you down. "There will always be more opportunities to make out, my lips aren't going anywhere!"
Oh… But you don't think there will be. You don't want there to be. 
He reads something on your face and slowly raises his eyebrows. "Or maybe not?"
You give a weary sigh, shutting your eyes and slumping against the silver of your car. "I really really don't wanna lead you on, Jin. You're an amazing guy, and… I'd really love to have a friend in you. But I don't think I'm in the right mindspace to invest into anything further than that."
And it is so weird to confess something that has been true for years – except now, it's in a wholly different context. You have steered clear of emotional entanglements for so long because of the way things went south with your ex. That hasn't stopped you from pursuing physical intimacy, however.
But right now, you're stepping away from the latter as well. 
You can feel your brain shutting down on your emotions, refusing to let you assess what you feel, least of all why you feel it. But you most certainly were craving your best friend when another guy was just about to kiss you – so you are most certainly, very royally fucked to a huge degree.
When you finally meet Seokjin's gaze again, trying to avoid your thoughts, he's looking at you with a small smile. It is an extended version of the condescending one you've seen him wear multiple times tonight, except this one seems more sweet than tainting.
"Can I ask you something?"
You blink at the unexpected question. "You just did," you lamely mumble, cringing at your own self. "Sorry. Yes, please, go ahead.
He laughs and tilts his head to the side. "Is Jimin really just a friend to you?"
Eyes widening in surprise, you're at a loss of words at the suddenness of the question. It's not an unfamiliar one – far from it. In your entire existence as Jimin's best friend, you've encountered it more times than you can count; as best friends usually do, before they laugh it off and call each other gross.
But, strangely enough, facing it this time brings out an emotion that is far from humor. It, in fact, takes you back to that time in college when you were all nineteen and you'd freshly revealed about your past crush on Jimin during some game amongst your group of friends. Wheein, Jeongyeon and Seungcheol, the three other friends that completed your group of five, then took it upon themselves to tease the two of you at every chance they got. 
You claimed your crush was old and you'd gotten over it – and yet butterflies filled your tummy every time Jimin flirtatiously wiggled his eyebrows at you at their insistence. You didn't even go to the same college, man used to make you lose braincells over video calls!
Those similar butterflies occupy the cavity beneath your diaphragm now too, as you stay blinking at Seokjin, taking way too long to answer. Which gives away the answer in itself.
Giving you a hum, long and deep, he rolls back on his heels and nods. "I see."
"What? No!" You suddenly jump up to defend yourself. "I… We're just in a… weird phase right now." That's one way to put it, you guess. "B–but we're friends. Just friends. The best of friends."
"Are you sure it's me that you're trying to convince?"
You bite your tongue at the laughter in his voice. Are you really trying to lie to yourself?
Do you really have a crush on your best friend…again?
 Seokjin gives a pat to your shoulder. "Don't worry about it, okay? I can't say I didn't have an inkling. Hell, we've all seen the two of you act impossibly couple-y around each other. Even if you were just friends in the beginning, it was bound to evolve into something more given how you looked at each other."
Okay, enough. That's… too much.
It was one thing when it was just Jimin’s colleagues that thought the two of you acted couple-y because he'd never bothered to correct them. It's a whole other when it’s your colleagues too because you've always brushed off their suspicions, without fail. 
This is getting out of your hands.
"I'll be taking my leave, okay? Drive safe and let me know when you've reached home." Seokjin smiles again when you meet his gaze. "No hard feelings, okay? I'll see on Monday."
You hope you'd be able to face him on Monday without breaking into tears of humiliation.
Sighing, you wave goodbye to Seokjin and, unlocking your car, get into it. Placing both hands on the steering wheel, you rest your forehead against their back, exhaling roughly.
This is all so confusing, you almost want to cry. Or call up Jeongyeon and complain about your confusing state of mind to her. But you're a terrible friend who doesn't keep in touch with people regularly so the last time you talked to the girl would have been on her birthday. Almost a year ago. It's coming up again next month, in fact. So nope, no messages.
With a grimace, you extract your phone to check the time – just as a message pings on it.
07:41 PM | Text Message from Min 🌟 <image_2839.jpg>
Great. Just what you need. More of him to absolutely obliterate any semblance of sanity you could have clung onto.
Heart almost beating out of your chest, you click on the message with embarrassingly shaky fingers. A picture of him awaits you – a dramatic selfie where his face is resting against a pillow with his eyes shut and lips pouted. The accompanying text spells out 'tired' in small letters, followed by multiple ellipses because one couldn't have made the point clearly enough for him.
Your heart has no business thumping like it us at the sight of his shiny mouth, and your face definitely deserves to be sued for heating up like a fucking toaster. You could earn a tortilla on your cheeks.
Oh God. 
You do have a crush on him again. Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.
What the fuck have you done?
Tumblr media
On your way back, your whole head was such a mess that you almost turned into the wrong lane. You'd planned a Marvel movie marathon to get your mind off everything and fall asleep in front of the TV – so that you can wake up on Sunday afternoon with Chris Evans’ ass in his tight Cap’n America spandex on your mind.
But as you go through your nightly routine of brushing and showering, you realize that watching TV is out of the question because you cannot stay in your living room without reliving the way you were eaten out, here. And touching yourself to the thought of the guy you don't wanna think about will be sort of counterproductive.
So you decide to pull out your laptop and snuggle in your bed, resolutely turning towards the window in your room to avoid looking at the place where you knelt before Jimin. But that makes you face the picture of the two of you that you keep on your nightstand like a sap, and you release a tired groan.
"Why the fuck are you everywhere?" you lament into your empty room which doesn't feel nearly empty enough with all the traces of your best friend around it.
For the first time in your life, you're beginning to wonder if you've woven Jimin too intricately in your life than a best friend should be.
Good God. A spandex clad ass won’t be enough, you’ll need Chris Evans to get naked for you to be able to deal with this shit. Fuck it, you're watching Not Another Teen Movie.
Tumblr media
It's 2 am, you’ve gone through four movies, and yet haven’t been able to gather enough sanity to text your best friend back.
He probably thinks you’re riding Seokjin’s dick by now. Which you would have been, had it not been for this uncalled for, absolutely unwelcome, highly inconvenient and horrendously intense attraction you’re feeling for him instead.
What is worse, it’s accompanied by telltale signs of a crush. What a nightmare to bear.
It all sounds like you’re being extra, but you’re actually just afraid.
The truth is – you're terrified of feelings; of getting too attached to somebody. And not just because you've seen how it can make people dependable, symbiotic to the point of being parasitic, the way they did your ex. But also because they change people in even more, even scarier ways.
Especially friends.
The moment that line is crossed from friendship to romance, everything is changed. At the risk of sounding morbid, you'd like to claim that everything is essentially ruined. 
You've seen it happen to the closest of friends. The mask comes off, and everything that a person was as a friend – completely disappears as they assume the role of a partner. It never makes sense to you why this happens. 
But your biggest fear in life is that it may happen to you. That it may happen with Jimin. You'd realized it when you were 19, so you'd crushed all the giddy feelings in you and moved on with your life as Jimin’s best friend. 
And it worked out great, didn’t it? For eight whole years?
Fuck, what if fizzles out now, though?
“Fuck fuck fuck,” you muter to yourself, covering your face with both your palms.
You really don't wanna say it because it makes you feel like shit, especially given how normal Jimin was this morning, but… had you known getting physically close to him would lead to you getting so lost in your head, you would never have kissed Jimin. You would never have let that conversation with Avni play with your head for so long, in the first place.
Because all that has led you here, to this – leaving him on read and ignoring his face time calls. Poor guy probably just wants to know how your date went.
Well. Maybe you’ll answer him tomorrow.
Maybe you’ll be brave enough to confidently lie your way out of it. Maybe you'll be saner, more composed?
Tomorrow. You promise your self you'll be better tomorrow.
“Tomorrow.”
Tumblr media
© jimilter | 2023
250 notes · View notes
chimchimmarie · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
OUT OF THE FRIEND ZONE (Part Two)
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Genre: College Au, Friends to Lovers
Word Count: 1,500ish
Summary: Jimin finally realizes he wants out of the friendzone, but will you feel the same way when he finally makes his feelings known?
AN: I finally found the time to write pt. 2. I hope you like it. I listened to “Fire Away” by John Michael Howell while writing this.
Read Part One.
The mood in this movie night has quickly shifted from playful banter between friends into one in which you feel judged for sharing that you had finally met someone. You feel yourself crawling into yourself more and more. For a moment, it feels like your friends were ganging up on you, deeming you as some unattractive, poor excuse for a woman who is unworthy of attention and love.
They didn’t actually say that, of course. But your mind has gone into the rabbit hole of overthinking that fast. At this point, you believe it’s becoming more of a second nature to you. You just can’t help it, and you hate yourself for it.
The whole conversation had really made you so self-conscious. You genuinely believe that Taehyung doesn’t mean to hurt you in any way. He’s not a bad person. He’s your best friend. But sometimes words could cut even if you don’t intend them to.
You just don’t get why he just had to make it sound like you’re making the biggest mistake of your life, that you’re being crazy for wanting to finally date.
What’s wrong with dating anyway? Don’t you have a right to meet guys and go out on actual dates?
Are you really that awful as a person to the point that even your friends would forbid you to go out with a guy you think is great?
You feel so betrayed. What kind of friends would gaslight you into thinking you aren’t good enough to date?
And if they tell you one more time that this is them being protective of you, then they’re being complete jerks. This is absurd, you think. You’re a consenting adult, capable of making choices for yourself. And you don’t need to be babied like a middle schooler.
By the time Jimin showed up, Taehyung started acting more frantic than he was prior. He’s still going on and on on why you can’t be thinking about going out with Namjoon. The other guys chimed in, too. Going so far as judging him because he’s a varsity player. But you genuinely think that Namjoon looks decent and nice for someone who plays sports.
He’s nothing like most jocks you’ve come across with in campus. Most of which have either been a fuckboy or a totally egotistic maniac. Namjoon was a great guy. And all these misconstrued notions they have of him is getting in your nerves.
Jimin has been quiet ever since. He hasn’t said a single word to you. He didn’t back you up like he usually does. He’s being too quiet, actually. You’ve been trying to catch his eyes but he hasn’t looked at you since he entered the room. He also suddenly picked a seat on the floor, instead of his usual spot next to you. It’s almost as if he’s suddenly ignoring you.
Feeling so frustrated, you fire back at Taehyung, raising your voice and startling everyone in the room.
“And why should I listen to you!? You’re not my dad, none of you are! You can’t tell me what I can or cannot do! ”
“Oh come on, that’s not even what I’m trying to do, y/n. I’m just worried about—“
“Worried about what?? Can’t you just be happy for me for once?! Damn it Tae!”
“Hey, hey, guys… Stop it. We came here to watch a movie and hang out. Come on.” Jin tries to pacify the tension while blocking your view of Taehyung.
“Right. I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to—“
You didn’t even let Tae finish, you stood up and made a beeline for the door.
Before you could hit the elevator button, a firm warm hand grips on your wrist.
“Y/n. Please… Don’t leave.”
You recognize Jimin’s voice. You feel the warmth of his body close to you. His scent overpowering you for a moment.
You scoff as you try to pry your hands away.
“So, now you speak. Where were you when Tae was in my face the whole time in there?”
You turn around with much force, yanking your arm away from his hold.
“He doesn’t mean it. He’s just—”
“—being Tae. Right. And I’m supposed to just let it slide, like every time?” You cut him off. Frustration and disappointment laced heavily in your tone.
“You know what, I’m sick and tired of taking all this shit from you guys. Whenever I talk to you about my dating life, you get like this. EVERY. DAMN. TIME! Am I not allowed to do that? Is there some kind of rule that I cannot go out there and meet people? I know you guys care about me, but for crying out loud, stop treating me like the helpless little sister you never had!”
The silence that followed your outburst was excruciating. Jimin was wide eyed as he watches you lash out on him, mouth agape and jaw stuttering before he could manage to respond.
“That’s not how I ever saw you.” His voice was soft it’s almost a whisper.
“What?” You ask.
“I never saw you as just a little sister y/n.” Jimin pauses to look at you.
You don’t understand where he’s trying to go with this but you keep mum and decide to let him talk.
“You were more than just that to me. You have no idea.” He scoffs. He keeps his eyes on you as continues to speak his mind.
“And can you please stop thinking that we’re ganging up on you. That we don’t care. That we’re out here to hurt you—God! That’s the last thing we’d ever want for you! And Tae—he’s just trying to… get me to do something about it.”
“About what?” You press him to go on.
Jimin seems hesitant to speak again but he decides it was now or never.
“Y/n, listen to me. Don’t go out with Namjoon. I—“
“Jimin, not you too! For fuck’s sake just—“
“I like you, okay!! There! I said it! I like you!” He cuts you off, hands thrown in the air.
You stop moving and breathing altogether. His sudden confession rendered you unable to speak. You didn’t really know how to respond to that. You feel like you’ve been blindsided by your best friend. You just stood there with eyes bulging, seemingly shocked at what he had just blurted out. Before you could figure out what to say, he’s talking again.
“Look, this isn't how I wanted to do this. Part of the reason Tae acted so rashly is because he knows I was supposed to tell you tonight after the movie but.. you just—I mean, you’ve started seeing people and you’re not supposed to—I mean, I can’t dictate what you can or cannot do.. but.. I haven’t… I just… I had to— God, why is this so hard!? I feel like an idiot!”
Jimin pauses to catch his breath. He rakes his fingers through his hair as frustration starts to crawl up to him.
Taking a step closer to where you’ve been frozen in place, Jimin takes your trembling hands in his. In another breath, he bares his soul to you.
“I’m in love with you y/n. I have for quite some time now. I just— I haven’t been brave enough to admit it. Even to myself. But I want to change that now. And this is me finally doing what I should have done the first time I realized it.”
Jimin watches you for any reactions. But you’re beyond speechless with how things turned out. You’re suddenly hyperaware of his existence in front you.
He’s held you like this before, so many times actually that you’ve lost count already. But the touch of his skin and the way he tightens his grip suddenly feels foreign to you. It almost feels wrong. Like he’s not supposed to hold you like this. He’s your best friend. He’s not supposed to touch you and tell you these absurd things while looking at you like… like he… like he’s actually in love with you.
“Please say something?” He demands with his voice that suddenly sounds so sweet yet yearning.
You look into his eyes as your mind goes haywire in full panic mode and all you can think of doing at the moment is the one thing you genuinely believe you’re good at—running.
And so that’s what you do. You run.
You run from this situation. From your best friend. From the feelings that suddenly feels so suffocating.
Your voice finds you as you tremble and break the contact to hastily step back into the elevator.
“I… I can’t— I can’t do this.. Jimin, I—I’m sorry.”
As you wait for the doors to close., the last image you see is Jimin’s hopeful eyes morph into pain. Like someone just ripped his heart out of his chest.
Part Three tbc.
58 notes · View notes
namfinessed · 4 months
Text
eliminate! - p.jm.
Tumblr media
genre: major angst, suggestive content, dystopian!au (warnings include violence, death and mentions of blood) (8.8k wc)
summary: in a world where people killed those they loved, to survive, to be alive, you and jimin can't seem to be parted and the impending doom of your relationship stretches the two of you out before you are forced to make the choice, to love or to die?
masterlist
(i highly recommend listening to heartbeat by childish gambino while reading this, enjoy <3)
-
october 20th, 2022.
rain traveled down your back, slowly, mockingly but fell with full force on top of your head and clouded your vision. red lights flashed, green lights flashed, white lights flashed but somehow, he was still there, in the midst of it all, clear as day in the dead of the night.
it couldn’t be him, not after all this while, not after you’d given it all up.
but the hand that held your gun quivered, your blinking became slower as your eyes tried to focus on him, drink him in, forget him, remember him, anything it can do, see him.
it shouldn’t have come to this.
a road shouldn’t be separating you two, a gun in your hand should’ve never been held, the rain should've never dared to hide him from you but it was all happening, and all you could do was look.
you felt his sorrow from across the street, his shaking hands that held his own gun, and you knew you had to do this for the relief of the other, whoever survived.
your phone blinked and buzzed rapidly with the word ‘eliminate!’ on your screen and you knew the decision that you had to make.
so, as cars and bikes zoomed and honked and blared in your ears, your hand lifted to point the gun at him, you knew he would do the same, the principle was survival of the fittest after all.
but as you pulled the trigger and the bullet rang through the air and bolted in his direction, you realized he never lifted his hand.
you fell to your knees as the rain continued its assault on your body. your eyes forgave you by closing themselves so you would never have to see his body on the ground.
your screen became green.
‘successful!’
it shouldn’t have come to this.
-
the government and all other higher organizations had their eyes on the few numbers of marriages that took place and even fewer marriages that lasted, divorce rates were at an all-time high, and that resulted in the chaos of the world as it was.
because it was a chain reaction.
marriages lead to unhappy individuals, sometimes with children, sometimes with large families, this led to divorces, which led to unhappy and traumatized children, years of therapy that didn’t quite fix anything, unhappy and traumatized children didn’t serve to be responsible citizens who fulfilled the duties that the government needed.
and soon, they had to step in.
they introduced a system based on nature’s most ancient method, the method of survival by elimination. the system had everyone’s data down to the chromosomes that built them and used this system to establish romantic compatibility between individuals. this would allow society, as a whole, to have lasting, emotionally fulfilling relationships.
but they had other motives as well.
the government didn’t care about individuals, they cared about what an individual could offer and they also cared about overpopulation, they couldn’t control society if it was overfilling, so the system was built to kill two birds with one stone.
the system did connect people but the second the relationship seemed to be steering in the wrong direction in any manner, the individuals in the relationship would receive a flashing red alert of ‘eliminate’ on their phones; sometimes they got it at the same time, sometimes they got it seconds apart, and in the time that they receive the notification, they have to kill the other person in the relationship or get killed.
whoever kills, gets ‘aid’ from the government, which was basically tons of money to cover for the trauma that comes from killing someone you loved.
if the persons failed to carry out the elimination for whatever reason, they got three warnings before government-assigned hitmen would kill both of the individuals, if the individuals didn't kill to survive, they didn’t deserve survival.
this, according to the government, was survival of the fittest, eliminating those who weren’t emotionally capable of being in a lasting relationship, and who didn’t provide the government with anything, deserved to be eliminated.
this was naturally met with resistance but as days by and the system reached everyone, people found that they enjoyed eliminating those who made them unhappy, especially because there were no consequences and because romance came with a certain rage, people were finally allowed to quell that rage.
so, the system was implemented and the world paced forward.
but you fell in love with jimin, and he fell in love with you, and the moment you did, your phone flashed red.
-
december 19nd, 2022.
it was the first warning and he hadn’t died that day, at least that’s what you heard.
it’s been months since your bullet hit him and you still couldn't forget the ringing it left in your head. the same roads that you had coursed through on his bike, so in love, so sure about each other, were the same roads where you left him to die.
it wasn't your fault, you had prepared to die, jimin was a better marksman than you were, so you had expected a bullet to pierce through you as well but it never came, even if you wished that it did.
so, now, here you were, body barely covered in a nightgown that your partner, keith, apparently liked, hands slowly stirring the coffee in your cup and looking out the window, rain clouded your vision and that was enough to take you back.
“good morning, babe!” a swift kiss on the side of your neck had your body recoiling but you forced a smile on your face as you kissed keith’s cheek.
he was dressed up for work in his black trousers and white shirt, he was moderately attractive, a finance guy who liked spending his money as if it meant nothing, you had no idea how you were compatible, but you were living together now and you didn’t see a way out.
“work’s going to be crazy today, so many meetings and we have to close that deal today,” he drawled on, running his hands through his hair as he got behind the kitchen counter to make himself breakfast.
i hope you don’t come back home, i hope your meeting lasts for a week, i hope i never have to see you again.
“i can make dinner for when you come back” leaves your lips instead and his head snaps up with a smile you’ve grown to hate, “you’re the best, babe, i love that on you by the way.” he gestures to your gown and gives you a flying kiss and it takes everything in you to not physically cringe.
i hate this on me, by the way.
it’s not like you care.
“i’ll buy more of them.” you hum, an answer that would satisfy him, and with a sigh, you turn away from him to look out the window again, the sky was still gloomy, the raindrops still coated your windows and you still wanted your partner to die.
then, you notice at the foot of your apartment building, a bike that pulls up, a bike that you know, a bike that you spent many nights on, your heart races as the rider steps off it.
at the same minute, your phone buzzes in your hand and you freeze.
not now.
not now.
not now.
“we don’t have to make this painful,” you hear from behind you before the steel of your own gun presses against the back of your head, your phone slips to the ground and you catch sight of the red that coats the screen.
‘eliminate!’
seconds apart.
of course, he got it before you had.
from your periphery, you see exactly what keith had been all along, what all you tolerated because you didn’t think you deserved love after putting a bullet in the only man you ever loved, you see keith’s narrowed eyes filled with ambition and malice, his fingers that itched to pull the trigger and his face that donned an evil smile.
he was enjoying this, enjoying the absolute control he had on your very existence.
you just wished he hadn’t underestimated you.
you pulled your ankle back to connect with his crotch, and whipped around to elbow his face and neck, making him weak enough to drop the gun, you pushed the gun away with your leg and dragged him to the kitchen counter, all while he begged and whimpered for mercy, then started shouting in the anger he felt, he had lost control after all.
you grabbed his collar and jammed his head into the sharp corner of the kitchen counter, leaving traces of his blood on it, and got up to retrieve a knife.
you had to do it, you had to kill him, or they will kill you you had to do it you had to kill him or they will kill you you had to do i-
the door to your apartment flew open and the grip you had on your knife tightened as you whipped around to see who it was, even if you knew who it could be.
jimin stood there, helmet in hands, eyes flicking on your body, unmoving, so silent that it made your head spin. as your lips parted to call out to him, to see if he would respond, to see if he was even real, a hand gripped your ankle, keith’s loud groan of ‘bitch’ echoed around you. the knife you had in your hands quickly found its place in his chest; the green light from your phone illuminated a side of your face.
‘successful!’
through the blood dripping down your eyelashes, you looked up, once again to see him, to see if he had moved, to see if he had left, to see if he had come to kill you.
you fell off keith’s body, pushing it away with your feet and the cold ground made you hiss, your head didn’t stop spinning, and your hands didn’t stop shaking, it almost made you laugh that the people in this room right now were both people you killed or tried to kill.
“why are you back?”
we shouldn’t be around each other, you shouldn’t be alive, i shouldn’t be alive-
“i chose to forgive you for putting a bullet in me,” he smirked and your head lolled to the side, a smile growing involuntarily, he was real, he was here, and he was breathing, “i never asked for your forgiveness, jimin.”
i missed you, i missed your voice, i missed your bike, i missed you i missed you i missed you i missed you, i missed us.
“i’m nice like that,” he hummed as he sat beside you, you looked up helplessly, someone’s blood smeared on your face, his blood that stained your hands, you thought you would never see him again.
he was nice like that; he was always nicer than you had ever been.
jimin’s ring-covered fingers pushed the hair that stuck onto the blood on your face back, you could feel your sobs compressed in your chest.
“unless you are here to kill me, get out, jimin.” you didn’t think you could say it but you couldn’t kill him a second time, you couldn't look at him without wanting to lay in his arms and let him kill you.
“i’m gonna say no to that.”
“you must really like dying” you could almost hear the sirens of the government hitmen, they would bust in here, place a bullet in each of your heads, jimin and you would just be eliminated numbers in the system then.
“we’ve only gotten one warning,” his voice and demeanor remained calm and steady, the calm you needed, the steady you craved, everything about jimin, you craved and craved and craved.
but one warning was enough, one bullet was enough, the blood on your hands was enough.
you pushed yourself off the floor, almost gravitating and falling into jimin’s arms, maybe crying for an hour, or two, and then kissing him all over but instead, your hands reached out for the knife that was dripping already.
you stood, with shaky knees, in front of a jimin that didn’t flinch and with the strongest voice you could muster, “get out.”
jimin didn’t make an attempt to move, “i let you kill me once, why do you think this will work?” to anyone else, it would sound like he was provoking you, but jimin was pleading with you, ‘i let you kill me once, i’ll let you kill me twice, thrice, ten times, i would rather die in your hands than be away from you.’
you couldn’t think, you couldn’t breathe, he was right, he was always right.
but you were, again, desperate to make sure his blood didn’t end up on you.
so, you twisted the knife and pointed it to yourself.
that did the trick.
jimin jumped up from where he was, you could hear his breathing, loud, hurried, so worried, you saw his hands instinctively jerk towards you and pausing in the air, unsure of what you would do.
“please leave,” you whispered, eyes gathering tears for the first time this morning and jimin retracted his hand, “you’re being crazy, put it down, p-please.” his calm was breaking, his face boosted a sheen and his eyebrows scrunched in worry.
“the second you turn back and leave, this will be put away.” you shook the knife in your hand, glancing towards the door through which jimin would have to leave.
jimin’s eyes widened in anger, his hands shook at the fury that consumed him, he couldn’t believe that you were willing to do this just to keep him away.
“i came back for you!” he yelled, you couldn’t help but flinch at his eyes that were no longer calm, no longer steady, “after everything, after you put a fucking bullet in me, after you live with some guy, i looked for you everywhere and this is what you want to do? drive me away? make yourself look insane?” his voice bellowed in the apartment, suffocating you, driving you to tears, but you knew it was necessary, it was easier if he hated you.
“get out,” you whispered again, your resolve weakening as the knife nudged into your skin, and at the sight of your blood running down your arm, jimin threw his head back with a frustrated groan, he couldn't touch you without potentially triggering another warning, he couldn’t shake you back to sanity so, just as quiet as he entered, jimin left your apartment, but not without a look that said, ‘this isn’t over, not here, not now.’
you were left with too much air and too much blood around you.
at some point in the evening, the cleaners from the government came in, but none of them looked at you, none of them said a word or offered you a napkin, nothing.
they pushed keith’s body into a bag, cleared up the blood, dropped an envelope full of money on the counter, and left.
but the smell of death perforated around you, as you, once again, looked out the window, a gloomy sky, a gloomy world, and your cigarette was the only light that remained later in the night.
you stared at the reflection of your face which looked sunken in, tired, irritated, so close to dead but unfortunately, not dead, and as you kept scowling at yourself, jimin’s face joined the reflection.
then, both of your cigarettes remained to be the only light in your apartment that night.
-
august 22nd, 2023.
that night, he smoked with you, taught you how to patch up your cuts, burnt some scented candles, and left after staring at your lips for ten minutes.
it didn’t matter that you were already well-trained to patch up your wounds, it didn’t matter that the candles he left only cleared the air for a few minutes before the smell of death came back, he was there, you were there, and that was enough for nothing else to matter.
though you still shiver at the memory of his eyes on you.
you haven’t seen him since then, you had told him to stay away before any kind of patch wouldn’t save what you do to yourself, but you still burnt the candles he got for you, every day.
you killed five people after jimin last year, you didn’t know if it was dumb luck that you survived every single time or your worst nightmare come true, all of your lovers were now just numbers in the eliminated category, you were waiting to join them too.
but, when your phone flashed red, you couldn't think of anything but surviving, even if you wanted to die, even if you had nothing to live for, that one notification blinded you from everything you believed in and pushed you to protect yourself.
it was the deepest, darkest secret that you held and buried in yourself.
maybe that was the intention all along, everyone wants to die until they are put face-to-face with death.
“i really didn’t expect us to match but i’m so glad that this is happening,” your date, an older man, with thinning hair and too broad of a smile, beamed at you. you felt particularly irritated that he was talking to your boobs but you held on, you matched for a reason, you had to see this through until you could kill him.
“i am glad too.” you smiled with ruby lips, crossing your legs and leaning away from him, you raised your glass to him and he almost jumped out of his seat to cling it, you held back your laugh at his state.
men were too simple.
“let’s get to know each other! we could start with, what scares you?” he thought he was being deep and thoughtful with that question, but he was so wrong.
men, scare me, i haven't decided if you're one of those men.
“i have to say, rats, can’t stand them, they’re disgusting.” you fake shuddered, causing your date to explode into laughter, “oh, you poor thing, they scare you?” he asked as if it was the most ridiculous thing ever.
i am scared that everyone i love, secretly hates me. i don't have many people that i love, that scares me too.
“so, how many people have you killed?” you didn’t mean to ask it out loud but you needed to know how much training would have to go into defeating him, if that day ever came. he looked up with surprised eyes before the surprise melts into poorly executed sensuality, a certain sick kind of glint shined in his face as he leaned forward as if he’s found his prize, his prey, “i have killed 3, princess, what about you?”
it took everything in you to not vomit in his face.
but your eyes roll back instead, this was going to be a long night.
“how about you try to guess?” you whispered back, just as sensual, maybe not as sick but playing the part he wanted you to.
a hidden freak in elegant clothes.
men didn’t have a lot of types; this was usually the most popular.
he, you keep thinking ‘he’, because, for the love of god, you can’t seem to remember his name, blinks slowly, trying to be sexy, only to look mildly constipated.
a swing of the restaurant doors forces your eyes towards the entrance and your throat closes up as you try not to fall off your seat when you see who it is.
you had told him to stay away, to never come back, you told him that you should’ve never given him the lighter that night but he had laughed it off, he had lit his cigarette and gazed out the window without a word.
now, he was here, all flesh and bones, too real, too much, not in your innocent or sometimes, not-so-innocent dreams, he was standing with another woman who held onto his hands, hands that had taught you to clean your wounds, hands that had touched every inch of you.
your hands gripped the tablecloth with a strength you didn’t know you possessed; your eyes threatened to flash red as your heartbeat accelerated.
gone was the bald man in front of you, gone were the people around you, gone was the chaos of the restaurant, gone was the rest of the world as his eyes reached you.
and he had the audacity to bow to you, flash a smirk, throw a smile at your date, and take his seat at the bar as if it was his throne. of course, his seat faced you, his eyes stayed on you as his hands played and twirled with her hair.
“see something you like?” your date growled from the other side of the table.
you had forgotten about him.
“sorry, i got distracted” you mumbled, you wondered if he would figure out just how insincere your words were. he laughed bitterly, fingers tapping incessantly at his wine glass.
his demeanor had changed, his shoulders were tense and tight, and you could feel his leg knocking onto the table, you had pissed him off.
you wish you cared.
“i’ve met your type, you think that looking and acting like a slut will help you get away with everything, don’t you?” his eyes gleamed wickedly as he smiled at you, you felt a chill run down your spine even if you weren't threatened.
all your life, you’ve met all kinds of men, it didn’t help you get used to how cruel and animalistic some of them could be.
your phone pinged and flashed red.
‘eliminate!’
your heart contracted rapidly as your hands tried to search for the gun on your thigh holster, your fingers fumbled to pull it out and you could feel it all slip away.
you couldn’t let him get the notification too, he would kill you, he would kill you in front of jimin, he would kill you and you would never see jimin again, never feel him again, never breathe him in agai-
but then, his head dropped on the table.
your hands fell away from your holster as your entire body stiffened and fell back on your chair.
you hated that you didn’t feel anything as his blood pooled around his head, as people screamed and rushed out of the restaurant, as waiters fumbled with their phones to call the police, you hated that your gaze immediately went to jimin.
his hand was raised, a gun pointed in your direction.
your suspicions were right.
‘successful!’
your screen turned green.
people ran with their children in front of you, people stared in horror at the man whose blood overflowed from the table, people saw you staring at the bar instead of the dying man in front of you.
public eliminations were rare, and most notifications were delivered in the safety of private homes but desperate times, such as especially bad events on a date, would lead to this.
jimin’s date got up, seemed to scream at him, seemed to seek his attention but he peeked and bent around her body to keep looking at you, she turned around with fury in her eyes, only to huff loudly and run out of the restaurant too.
then, it was the two of you again.
how could you feel a touch, months after it’s been on you?
how could you feel him, miles apart?
you hated yourself for how warm you felt now that it was just you and him.
you pushed yourself out of your chair, charging towards jimin with a rage you only felt around him, the rage of wanting him but not having him, the rage of never forgetting him, the rage of not being able to detach yourself from him, the rage of seeing him with another, he watched with a tilted head as you approached him.
“come outside,” you demanded, already turning around to get out but he spun towards the bar, “why? we have all the privacy we want, right here” he tapped the seat next to him with his lips pulled to one side.
you were impatient, out of time, out of your depth, out of control, which urged you to grab jimin by the collar and drag him to the rain-soaked pavements outside.
there was no way you were going to have a conversation when a man lay dead, a couple of steps away from you, a man that he killed, a man that you were supposed to kill.
“what were you thinking, jimin?” you screeched once you couldn’t see blood dripping down the table you left behind. even as the rain soaked you, you felt burning hot anger bubbling in you.
“why do you care? were you in love with him or something?” jimin sneered, adjusting his shirt and looking away to the side, his voice was irritated but his face wasn’t, jimin had ever been good at hiding his vulnerability. there was this nervousness, this tapping of his foot, that gave him away.
“it shouldn’t matter to you, jimin!” you yelled loudly, though your face fell away in unguarded softness. it shouldn’t have been his bullet today, it should’ve been yours, it’s funny to you that it always ends up having to be yours.
“why?” jimin turned back to look at you with a frown so deep, you wondered if he was feeling the strain of the conversation already, if he was feeling the strain of being so close and far.
do you want me in your arms? i want you in mine.
“what do you mean, why?” you threw your hands in the air as a deep exhale left your body, a last attempt to calm yourself, “why shouldn’t it matter to me? as far as i know, i’m the only one it should matter to,” he roared back, chest puffing as he stepped closer to you.
come closer, don’t you dare step back, take me away from this rain, this place, these people, this world, take me to a place where i can hold you and you can hold me.
“you know exactly why” you steeled your gaze to get your point across, though you wondered if he could hear your heart break from where he stood.
jimin watched you with careful eyes, sorrow hid under his eyelashes, sorrow that he tried to blink away, sorrow that barely concealed the anger he felt.
but not at you.
never at you.
he reached for your hand, causing you to flinch and shift a couple of steps away, he felt like a wound that never quite healed, cut itself open again, “what are you so afraid of?”
your heartbeat quickened, “jimin, stay back, we don’t know about the warn-“
“that ship sailed when you yanked my collar, love” his lips pulled to one side as he showed his phone screen that was bright red, and your heart drowned all over again, your phone buzzed in your hand, you knew what it meant.
your second warning.
“why don’t we just take advantage of this?” he whispered so softly, that the rest of the world tapped out, it was just him and his face and his voice and his hands that pushed your hair back.
life filled your lungs in a rush, life so vibrant and bright, life so blindingly fine.
soft soft hands, soft hands that touch me, soft hands that have touched me before, soft hands which i love, i love the man with soft hands.
“we could go back to our place, watch some movies, just talk, you can tell me how terrible your dates have been,” he paused to chuckle a little and it filled you with lightness, you believed you could float, “we could let the warning stretch, we could let it all just ring, i don’t care, as long as you’re there, i don’t care about anything.”
he still calls it ‘our’ place, i have a place in this world.
your phone buzzed and flashed red repeatedly as he held your cheeks and leaned in, just to let his breath fan over your face, just to let his lips brush over yours.
“but don’t push me away, i need you.” you could tell he was holding back tears and you couldn’t tell that you were crying already until his hands wiped across your cheeks, your hands fell on his shirt, unsurely grazing the fabric.
did you want him closer? was that possible?
‘eliminate!’
‘eliminate!’
‘eliminate!’
your phone threw the red onto his face, flashing so rapidly that you wanted to break it, but when you caught his eyes, his ever so tender, ever so loving, ever so giving eyes, you got reminded of the bullet you put in him. now, the red light looked like his blood.
i love the man with soft hands. his soft hands touch me and i touch him, he tells me sweet things when our lives are on a rope, how can i not fall?
i hurt the man with soft hands, i don’t deserve the man with soft hands.
your hands were desperately hanging onto his shirt now but you could feel your stomach in your throat, your heart in your legs, your head in the stormy clouds and you pushed him away.
you stumbled back, hiccupping and gripping your phone.
‘eliminate!’
“please, just listen to me-“ but you couldn’t, all you could hear was the traffic, the people, your phone, and the world, it all returned back to you and you couldn’t hide in his face any longer.
“just stop, jimin!” you let out your cry, heart squeezing itself dry onto the pavement.
i can’t hurt you, i can’t die, but i will die if i don’t hurt you, would you kill me? save me this pain? take me away.
jimin’s rage returned.
“we need to stop this, don’t show your face around me again” you turned and walked away before your heart fell on his feet and you couldn’t pick it up again.
step.
step.
step.
pull me back, don’t let me go.
“how do you walk away every single time?” his voice was low, barely audible but it fell on you like bricks raining from the sky.
your steps stopped, everything in you paused at the tension in his voice.
“how do you live without me? why is it so easy for you to be without me?” he got louder, angrier, more desperate, more of everything, you knew his eyes were burning into your skin and leaving scars that would never fade.
i’m not living, i’m breathing, i’m existing, it's not the same.
“jimin,” you breathed out, your entire body stood confused at the jolts of torments that passed through it, you tried not to fall on your knees at his assumption.
did he think this was easy for you?
did he think that he didn’t haunt every single living thought in your head?
did he think you could ever forget the grief that shot through you when you saw him on the ground, that you could ever forget him?
“do you not remember anything?” he whispered again, a sad smile stretched on his face.
i remember too much.
i remember drifting through these roads on your bike, i remember laughing into your hair and the warmth of your neck on cold nights, i remember the leather of your jacket and the coldness of you necklace, i remember the cat you loved even if you are allergic, i remember the story of your first kiss, i remember the lingering love you hold for her, i remember the greater love you held for me.
i remember the day i died when my phone flashed red for the first time.
i remember everything.
“no, and you should forget it too” you shook off his scent that crawled on your back to choke you.
“i don’t believe you,” jimin narrowed his eyes at you, he could see the memories playing like a videotape behind your eyes.
“i don’t either,” he pulled back at the sad chuckle that left your tear-dried lips and he could only watch as you got into your bike and drove away into the night, once again, leaving him to himself.
your tears came anew as the gush of wind froze them on your face, you no longer had his neck to bury yourself into, and you no longer had his jacket to grip onto, it was just you, the night and everything else burning in and out of existence.
you could tell it all to him, you could tell him that you haven't been alive since the second you held that gun in your hands, you could tell him that you imagined him on every face you kissed but it was easier to not tell it all.
it was easier to pretend that you didn’t know what you felt, it was easier to tell him you didn’t know when you knew it all, and it was easier to go back to your room and stare at the ceiling till morning came.
-
december 31st, 2023.
six hours were left to new years.
you just killed another person, and this time, you didn’t bother remembering anything about them, their name, their hobbies, their interests, their face just before they died, it only gave you nightmares.
the paper of your cigarette was soaked red as your hands dripped on them, your bedroom was being sterilized and you were once again, wholly surrounded by the smell of blood and death and nothing else.
you would need to get new sheets, a new bed, a new carpet, and new candles.
what a way to start a new year.
your head fell back on the sofa as a dull ache coursed through you, the ache was ever-present now, your only consistent companion, it stayed with you as life threw you from a puddle, to a pond, to a lake, to a river and then, at the deep edge of the sea.
your feet dragged as you closed the door behind the cleaners, you wondered if they were welcoming the new year with someone they loved or if they were too, much like you, rotting around the smell of death.
three hours were left to new years.
you wondered what jimin was doing, and then you laughed into the silence around you, when did you ever stop thinking about what jimin was doing?
but you were two strikes down, another one would only end with you both six feet underground and you couldn’t do that to jimin.
one hour was left to new years.
you were somehow standing in front of ‘your’ apartment, it was really jimin’s but it stuck with you that he had called it ‘our.’
in life, there are logical choices, mapped out, ready for action, the results would be great for you but as humans, we very rarely follow through with logical choices because even if we have a monologue prepared, an argument, a plan of action, we see the face of some people, we see the nights we spent with them, we see the words we never told anyone else, we see our expired love creeping on their backs and it all crumbles.
those choices are always shadowed by, not your heart, as many would like to believe, it’s always you, as a whole, just you. because sometimes, we don’t want the peace that comes with logic, we want the freefall that comes with doing whatever the heck you want and regretting it all afterward.
and you wonder if you will ever make the smart choice when it comes to jimin.
the door swings open, your chest falls in relief at his face and an expectant smile from him, silence riddled around you both, welcomes you into your home.
you felt strangely out of your body, as if you were watching the night unravel and could do nothing but watch, as if you had no and all control, as if you could run and stay at the same time.
on your true bed, you splayed out your arms and legs, you didn’t exhale too loudly, jimin didn’t breathe too much, you pushed your face into the pillows that you and jimin used to lay on, you breathed in the scent, jimin stood back and watched, everything was just silent and perfect and your phones were nowhere near you.
i didn’t think we would be here again, i thought i lost you forever, i thought i would die with your love for me and my love for you, buried deep inside of me and someday, it would all be dug up and i won’t be there to witness any of it.
on your true table, you sat, legs folded on the chair, piping hot food flowing steam onto your face and you ate, jimin sat opposite to you and ate, the television roared with news of parties, fires, danger, sorrow, economy. a word didn’t leave your lips.
who really cares about the government anyway, right?
on your true sofa, your fingers threaded jimin’s hair as you pulled at his scalp, gently, maybe not so gently and he falls apart in your touch, he falls back and grabs you, again and again, you two rise and fall, like riptides that would devastate the shore, like rocks that hit to make fire, like hail that hits your feet and makes them numb, your bodies don’t care anymore, not about some warning, not about some stupid government, your bodies only craved for what the other offered.
why does morning have to come? why do nights like these not show mercy on me and stretch forever? why is this place not where i come back to anymore? how do i leave, with the memories of your feathers wrapped around my back?
at some point, the clock struck midnight and jimin’s twinkling eyes whispered to you, his hands rubbing circles on your waist, “happy new year, my love.”
all of the world’s happiness would have fit in the centimetre space between you two then, you didn’t want to think of how you would die after this, you didn’t want to think of how temporary it all was, you didn’t want to think of how tomorrow might never come.
but you woke up the next day, jimin’s arms on your stomach, a new year shining outside your window and you stumbled out of the bed for your phone, to see if it really was the end because you couldn’t get a better ending than this.
you didn’t get a warning.
you wouldn’t die today.
you sighed out in relief.
-
february 14th, 2024.
you got lucky that day, too lucky, you had stretched your luck till afternoon dawned. that morning, you got on jimin’s bike and let yourself float in the backseat as wind pricked your face, you had been hoping that the final warning will come, that you could die happy but even as your head rested on jimin’s shoulder and the beach waves crashed in front of you, even as he nestled his face into your head and breathed you in, your phones hadn’t made a single noise.
the next morning, you were back to wanting to survive, jimin tried to keep you in his bed, he had whispered promises to you, he had kissed your cheeks and his hands had gripped onto your arms.
but you had run away, it wasn’t your home and you couldn’t play around with your luck anymore, maybe it was a glitch, maybe it was an anomaly, no one knew how the warnings came, and you weren’t exactly excited to know why you were granted those few hours with jimin.
and you found someone.
someone not like keith, someone not too sick or old, his name was wooseok and he treated you gently, treated you lovingly, he held your hand as you walked, he kissed you on the forehead, he promised to let you down gently if the notification ever came, as per your request.
but his hands weren’t soft and you weren’t in love with him.
you punched the sandbag in front of you, harder than your instructor had told you to, harder than you wanted to, the night fell around you with each punch, no one came around this time and the solitude comforted you.
soon, you had to meet wooseok for dinner, a valentine’s dinner, a night filled with affection and attention, you were looking forward to it, at least you were trying to look forward to it.
the elevator pinged behind you, slowing your punches, you turned around to glare at whoever came in, this was the only alone time you had, you couldn’t have some idiot mess it up.
but then your face relaxed as wooseok walked in, your arms immediately stretched in front of you to wrap around his neck and he chuckled into your neck, “couldn’t wait till dinner, forgive me.” he brushed your cheeks before kissing you on the forehead and you tried to hide the way your body tensed.
“i’m glad, i’ll be done in a bit,” you said with a half-genuine smile and he nodded.
i can be happy without jimin, i can live and not be afraid to love, i can learn to love wooseok’s rough hands and i can live live live
the elevator pinged again; you didn’t bother looking at who it was until you heard the soft thump of a bag falling to the floor. “just two minutes,” he whispered before burying his face in your neck again and this time, your body gave up fighting, you relaxed into him and let out a sigh. hidden by wooseok’s body, you peeked to the side to see who it was.
it was instantaneous, the reaction, the rush of blood to your head and heart, the restlessness that started building in you.
you felt your chest tear, your legs break under you, your hands falling off but nothing happened to you, even if you wished your mental pain could become physical, you still breathed fine, stood fine, lived fine, still clung to wooseok’s neck fine.
just one look at jimin had you crumbling even as someone held you up.
i cannot be happy without jimin.
“i’ll be waiting downstairs,” wooseok whispered, with no knowledge of your intruder, he kissed your cheek and you tried to hide the paleness of your face as you nodded, he leaves with a lingering look at you, so filled with love.
and your throat closes up again as the elevator takes him away.
jimin looks at you, waiting for you to speak, apologize, explain, anything, any words you give, he would take and he tries to hold his ground while his mind assaults him with playbacks to you and someone else wrapped around you.
your content face, instead of fear, your smile, instead of a scowl, your affection, instead of wariness, everything jimin wanted with you, you found in someone else.
he would’ve done anything for all of that, would your new boy do it? would he make you his as jimin had?
once he understands that you were going to ignore this, he walks towards you slowly, taking all the time in the world, you heard his steps but you kept putting your stuff away, determined to leave as soon as you could.
the world spun at your feet when he halts behind you, you felt the warmth of his body and his soft soft soft soft hands holding your hips as he gazed from behind you, into the mirror, you stood frozen.
how easy would it be to just melt into you? how easy would it be to go back home with you, to you, spend my hours breathing with you?
no.
you had someone now.
“jimin, step back,” you glanced anxiously towards where you left your phone and jimin is reckless, out of patience and at the end of the line here, “how does he treat you, love?” he whispers against your ear, in a mocking tone that you hated.
but heat crawls and wraps around you fast, you find yourself wanting to lean back on him, let him carry you away and let everything else fall away, let your life fall away.
not better than you, no one gets me like you do.
“he’s incredible, treats me very well” you turn your nose up in the air, speaking anything and everything to make him believe that you were alright without him, but as always, jimin sees right through you, he hums before leaning his chin on your shoulder and sucking in a breath, that has your knees bucking.
“does he, now?” you nodded, but the rest of your body was so still, you didn’t know if you were still breathing or not.
then, he wrapped his arms around your abdomen, pulled you flush against him, “this is how he held you, isn’t it?” you didn’t answer, “and how much time did he ask for? two minutes?” he laughed again, a sick kind of laugh that you had never heard from jimin before.
“what does he have that i don’t, love? what is it?” he mumbles into your neck, lips flush against your skin and you can’t hold the shiver that passes through you, there’s a daze that dances around you, a weight that holds your eyes down as his hands play with your skin, but you know what you two don’t have.
time. i have time, time that isn’t running out right in front of my eyes, time that doesn’t keep me up at night.
nothing, he has nothing compared to jimin.
“i will let you go only because i know you will kill him one day, and i know where you’ll be once you wash his blood away,” he steps back, leaving you with an ocean of air and a whirlpool room, it takes you a minute to come back to the world.
“actually, he will kill me,” you say finally, jimin turns around from picking his bag up, “i told him, if the warning comes, to kill me.” that decision made you feel lightweight, you would finally be rid of the system, this world, everything once things with wooseok fizzle.
you hadn’t conjured jimin’s reaction, you hadn’t put too much thought into it but a body-shaking laughter wasn’t what you expected at all.
he was bent with hands on his knees, laugh after laugh tumbling out of his mouth as he gasped for breath and you stood there, feeling unsure, humiliated and embarrassed.
and so so naked.
“what’s so funny, jimin?” he held a hand up, steadied himself with a wide grin on his face as he wiped a happy tear from the corner of his eyes, “what’s funny, love, is that you really think you will let him kill you, that is just hilarious.”
you grow red at his words as a wave of shame threatens to shake you off balance, “you know nothing about me, i’ve done enough, i’ve killed enough-“
“and you will do it again.” he says, a hint of a smirk still on his face.
i would.
i wouldn’t.
would i?
you are taken back to all the faces that you had forgotten after they died, keith, the old man, the woman, the memories that died with them, somewhere in you, you had always waited to kill some of them, even if you tried to tell yourself that you didn’t, everyone except jimin, didn’t exist in your head anymore.
“you have n-no idea what you are talking about,” you couldn’t believe that somehow jimin had figured this part of you out, you felt nauseous that he knew the worst parts of you.
“i am the only one who knows, because you loved me most, you loved me like you loved nothing else, you still do and that didn’t stop you from putting a bullet in me, did it?” he clicked on the elevator door as you hurried to catch up to him, stomping after him to prove him wrong, to tell him he had it all wrong but you have no words that are truthful to defend yourself.
i loved you like the soil loves water, like children love lollipops, like waves love the shore, i love you with all of me.
but i killed you and i cried.
i killed you.
you shoved yourself into the elevator with him, chest heaving, mind light and heavy, arms so tired but shaking with restrained anger and he looks at you with, was it pity?
“then, why chase after me if i am so vile?” you scream in his direction, a layer of you was peeled and left to bleed now, you had no idea how to stop it.
your phone buzzed and flashed red.
jimin’s phone buzzed and flashed red.
you look at each other, raw fear flashing just for a second before relaxing, isn’t this what you wanted, anyway?
your third and final warning.
“because i love you too much to care about myself and i’m the only one who can handle it, i’m the only one who would die for you.” he says with conviction, as if it was something he had rehearsed, something he had to repeat to himself. he turns his phone away and tucks it into his pocket.
you wanted to say, i love you too, and i know you’re the only one but the elevator doors open and you’re shoved into the darkness of the parking space, where wooseok stood, hands waving and a bright smile.
“save him and come back to me,” jimin whispers as he leans to give you the shortest, sweetest, most painful kiss on your temple before he’s sending you on your way and stepping back.
wooseok traps you in his arms and spins you around, pure joy radiating off him and you can only gulp and try to smile, “ready for our dinner?” he squeezes your arms with a breathtaking smile, and it takes everything in you to not vomit at his feet.
you nod, he grins and whips around to open the car door for you.
you look back to see jimin, in the elevator, just when the doors start to close, he mouths ‘till next time’ and a slow smirk grows on his face as he disappears behind the metal and you are sure you’ve left your heart in there.
“let’s go,” you sit in the car and watch out the window as it rains again, soft music plays from the radio and your body is rigid, tight, too painful to move and wooseok notices it, he reaches over, brushes your thighs with his rough so rough hands and soothes you with his words.
your phone buzzes in your lap and your heart jumps to your throat.
wooseok’s eyes turn down in sadness and you want to reach over, hold his cheeks and tell him, i love you, even if you don’t mean it but you don’t move a muscle. misunderstanding your silence, he slows the car and his phone flashes red as well, he sighs, eyes so sad, eyes lined with tears and you don’t feel anything.
it hurts that you feel as empty as a shell.
“i’ll keep my promise, i’ll give you a painless end” he mumbles softly, kissing the back of your hands and your feet start to tingle at the guilt that numbs you.
you act as if you are going to cup his face, he leans in with soft eyes and rough hands, you give a sharp tug to the steering wheel and the vehicle fastens towards a nearby tree.
you, so desperately wanted jimin to be wrong but as wooseok’s lifeless face stared back at you, you knew he was right.
you got out of the car, littered with a couple cuts and a lanky step, and walk towards the only place that belongs to you, the only place that you knew would welcome you back with snide smirks and silence and love, so much love, home.
your home.
-
‘eliminate!’
.
.
.
‘successful!’
86 notes · View notes