#jiminff
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arte factum | pjm
After your ex-husband is found dead in his house, you're burdened with the well-being of his latest invention, a good-looking, polite android who seems to have a peculiar interest in you.
Word count: 17k
Warnings: smut, somnophilia, obsessive behaviour, suicide, mentions of domestic and psicological abuse.
# Artifical Intelligence AU, horror, sci-fi, sub!Jimin, dom!female reader, yandere!android Jimin, vouyerism, he uses one of her panties to jerk off 😭, ma’am/Master kink, homeboy just doesn’t handle well seeing her naked, creampie, ‘unprotected’ vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), nipple play, overstimulation, fingering, horny groping, he needs to chill, face-fucking him with her fingers? idk.
A/N: lots of plot, read with caution. I don’t really know what else to say. Just, hm, enjoy the filth? Sub!yanderes are probably one of my lowest fantasies 😗✌️
Read this story listening to its own Spotify playlist.
“I didn’t know you were back already. How did it go?”
You’re still staring at your reflection on the teacup, the steamy drink smudging your face despite your complete stasis. It’s been at least five minutes since Taehyung poured it for you, but you’re still gripping the cup instead of sipping it.
“Well,” you murmur without looking away, “how do all funerals go? – they’re always depressive as fuck.”
Yoongi takes a seat in front of you “You know you can be sad about it, don’t you? It doesn’t mean you’re to blame. We— we don’t know anything yet.”
“My husband killed himself!” you blurt out, finally ripping your eyes away from your reflection. “I know I didn’t do anything, but still— maybe I could’ve done something. Maybe— maybe he wouldn’t be dead if I hadn’t sued him.”
You’re still wearing all back, sitting down miserably in your kitchen. That tea that Taehyung poured you is starting to cool down.
“Your hubby was a psycho, remember? It doesn’t make him any less of a stalker just because he’s dead now.”
Your friend has always had a way with words, you think to yourself with a chuckle; after all, he’s right. Just because he’s dead, it doesn’t mean he didn’t put you through all that shit. In a way, and you feel terrible for this, you’re kind of glad he’s gone.
“Mrs Im said they’d read the will this evening. You’re not going, after all?”
“You think he left me anything?” you ask him with an arched eyebrow.
But Yoongi just shrugs. “Maybe. Who knows.”
Even if he did, you’re not sure you want any of the things your ex-husband could’ve possibly left for you after his death. They’d be soiled with hatred and poison.
It seems, after all, that he did leave you something in his will. Or that you suspect, at least, after you’re summoned to his house by one of his lawyers. You can’t even describe the goosebumps rising in your skin as you walk into the suburban house that you used to call home.
“Ma’am, it’s good to see you.” Mrs Im rushes to shake your hand when she sees you. “I wasn’t sure you’d come. Thank you.”
“It’s the least I could do,” you say half-heartedly.
But, well, you went to the funeral, so it would be odd not to come; you need to finish off and seal this part of your life for once and for all.
“Don’t worry, it’s just some money and the art collection.” You don’t miss the way the woman and the notary eye each other, and you cross your eyes. “Uh, well, there is something else... that he left for you hoping you’d accept. One of his last creations. He finished it a few months ago.”
“I don’t really need a vacuuming robot, thank—”
“Oh, ma’am—! It’s something completely different,” the lawyer cries out.
With an arched eyebrow, you follow them down the hall, now more intrigued than ever, and walk down the steps that lead to his lab, where he’d work on all of his inventions. A mad scientist for a husband is what you had. A truly mad genius. You can’t even fathom what he’s invented this time.
Since it’s not been longer than a week since he passed away, the place is just as eery and spooky as it has always been.
You walk downstairs following the other two and stop in your tracks when they do, almost bumping against them. Arching your eyebrows once again, you open your mouth to ask them what’s wrong but go quiet when a young man, standing naked in the middle of the room, waves at you with the sweetest of smiles.
“God! I told you not to turn it on yet! Fucking hell, I almost had a fucking heart attack,” Mrs Im grunts, putting her hand on her chest.
“S-sorry, I swear I thought it was turned off when I left...”
Your eyes can’t help but flutter down to his crotch; his cock is thick and decently sized, but what truly makes your mouth water is how it reddens and twitches when the two of you meet. Oh, how you like nice cocks. How you need one in your life— isn’t he gonna cover himself or something, though?
“Uh, nice to meet you. Anybody cares to explain what the hell is going on?” you finally blurt out, a bit tired of their antics and dying to just have something else to look at. “I’d like to go back home as soon as possible.”
The woman takes a deep breath. “This is it, ma’am— this is what your husband wanted you to keep—”
“My name is Jimin, ma’am. It’s my pleasure to meet you.”
You don’t listen and turn around towards her:
“He... wanted me to adopt this guy?”
“That’s not a ‘guy’, ma’am, it’s Jimin, or subject JM13, a robot. Your ex-husband had been working on it for five years until now,” the notary continues, finally making himself noticed.
Five years? That means he was already working on it during the last years of your marriage. Weird.
“He was planning on selling the design to a company for the massive production of, er, sex androids.” Mrs Im’s voice goes meeker and softer as she speaks, perhaps ashamed of her words. Honestly? Same. Fucking sickhead. You stare at the so-called Jimin in disbelief. “However” – you look up back at her when she continues – “he seemed to change his mind at some point and decided to keep it and make you its guardian if something ever happened to him.”
“And what am I supposed to do with a... sex robot, if I may know?”
Mrs Im walks up to the big table in the centre of the room and picks up a bunch of papers just to read them leisurely. Then she puts them back on the surface and sighs.
“Can I be honest with you, ma’am?” You nod, though a bit hesitant. “Just take it. Sell it off if you want, there wasn’t anything that forbids you on the will. Or keep it; it can clean, cook, and fuck your brains out if you want. Do whatever you want, I just wanna be over with this case already. Your psycho ex has been giving me a headache ever since you sued him after your divorce.”
You need a couple of seconds to process it all, but you quickly come to the conclusion that she’s just as tired of this business as you. And maybe a hand or two at home won’t be so bad after all.
But it’s so spooky – he looks just like a person.
“So, its name is Jimin?” you ask as you walk up to the standing figure in front of you. You don’t need to tilt your head to look at him.
“So it seems.”
“I guess you’re coming home with me, Jimin. I just hope these two know how you work,” you say then, glancing at them.
“I’ll be happy to help, ma’am.” Jimin’s voice is probably the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard; it slithers into your mushy brain and pools on your tongue with the craving of saying his name out loud yourself – Jimin. “Thank you for keeping me. I will do anything I can to be of assistance to you.”
“I’m sure you will... Come on, let’s go home. By the way, don’t you come with instructions or something?”
Jimin laughs boyishly. “I’m automated, ma’am.”
“Well, there is one thing that you might want to know, though...” The woman butts in with the papers in her hand and reads, “If it ever puts you in danger and ignores direct instructions, you can always press the small switch behind his left ear. It will proceed with the complete shutdown of its system until you decide to turn it on again. In case you are being immobilised, just say out loud its name along with ‘shutdown’ and it will turn itself off.”
As soon as they’ve handed you some clothes for him and given you the little instructions Jimin needs to function, you find yourself closing the door of the side of the car where he’s sitting right now before you head to the driver's seat.
It’s true that you don’t trust this thing in the slightest, especially knowing who created it. But you’re determined to find out what has your ex-husband planned for you and why he decided he wanted you to keep Jimin out of all the people he knew. Maybe he’s not dead and is watching you right now through a peephole in the android’s eyes? Maybe he’s not done making your life miserable yet.
“Ma’am—!”
Jimin takes the wheel in time before your car takes a turn, neglected during the short but strong while you’ve been sulking in your thoughts.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” he asks you then, looking at you with concern as you take over the wheel again. “Would you rather I drove instead?”
“No, it’s... It’s okay, Jimin, thank you.”
“Your heart is beating fast, ma’am. Am I making you uneasy?”
You roll your eyes with a shameful sigh. “Uh, maybe a little. But it’s not your fault— you just have a creator with kind of a nasty name.”
“You used to sleep with my Master, I know.”
“Yeah... I mean,” you blurt out, now a bit bashful, “we were married. It was a bit more serious than just sleeping together – unfortunately.”
But then you realise— how on earth does this robot know who you are?
“Did he talk about me?”
“He talked about you quite often.”
You take a breath. “And what would he say?”
“My Master... wanted me to know how much he loved you,” Jimin says half-heartedly.
So, he just built himself a friend. One that couldn’t run away from him – pathetic. But Jimin doesn’t seem too fond of him, so you relish in the idea that your ex couldn’t even keep his handmade friends.
“He didn’t love me,” you spit out. “That nasty thing wasn’t love.”
It’s pretty much pointless to try and explain what love is to a robot, so you just tighten your grip on the wheel. For the rest of the ride, you stay in complete silence, and Jimin respects that you don’t want to talk.
“Uh, I guess you won’t need a bedroom? Or do you?”
Jimin takes a look around, inspecting the entrance hall of your house. “It’s better for my hardware to rest on a bed when I’m on standby, ma’am.”
“And... when do you switch to stand-by?”
“Once you go to bed,” he replies with a smile. “But I react to loud noises and turn back on in case there’s an emergency.”
Oh, so you get a full-time bodyguard in the package too. Cool – you guess.
“In that case, you can have the guest room. My room is upstairs— well, I’ll show you around now. Follow me.” Naturally, Jimin does as told and walks behind you as you guide him through the rest of the house. “My office is at the end of the corridor. I need to focus when I’m working, so please, don’t make too much of a fuss if you’re around this part of the house.”
“May I know what’s your profession?” Jimin asks on his way back to the kitchen.
“I’m... I draw comics,” you murmur. “It’s a pretty boring job since I started working for a publishing company, but the pay is really good— and I work at home a lot, so I’d also prefer if you didn’t disturb me when I’m in there unless there’s an emergency.”
You go to grab the kettle to make yourself some tea, but he gently takes it from your hand and beckons you to take a seat instead.
“Please allow me, ma’am.”
Pulling your hands away, you let him take charge of your tea and sit down. It’s oddly nice, but there’s a little voice in your head nagging you for taking advantage of a robot. As if that’s even possible. However, the voice slowly fades as Jimin prepares your tea, your eyes fixed on the way the muscles of his back bulge and tense under the flimsy fabric.
Well, your ex-husband did a pretty decent job with this one.
“There you go, ma’am. Would you like some cream with it?” he asks again with that angelic voice of his. You just shake your head. “What would you like me to do now?”
“Oh, nothing, really.” You fidget on your spot, awkwardly taking the teacup between your fingers.
“Please— I want to be of service.”
At his insistence, you nod weakly. “Well, I guess the kitchen could use some maintenance... And I think the microwave is broken. Can you... do something about that?”
Jimin nods fervently and, after asking you where can he find the tools, he gets on with the job. You can just watch him in awe as he dusts the windows, fixes your microwave, and puts a pair of flowers that apparently had been in your dining hall all this morning in a China vase. Again, you’re too perplexed to regret your decision.
Somewhere after dinner – which clearly was made by Jimin and was basically the best bite you’ve had in a while – your doorbell rings in the middle of the house’s pre-slumber silence.
You rush to the door before he can do anything. “I’ll go, you stay here.”
When you reach the entrance hall and open the door, you see Taehyung standing in front of the gate, checking impatiently the watch on his wrist.
“Y/N! What’s wrong with you?” he whines through the intercom. “Open up! Didn’t you get my texts?”
God, you’ve just realised that you’ve been so busy with the funeral, the will, and handling this peculiar new inhabitant in your house that you haven’t checked your personal phone since lunch.
“Sorry—”
“Hey, I was mad worried,” he mutters, coming in without needing to be invited. “How did it go? What did the notary say? Did the psycho leave you—?”
Judging by your friend’s sudden silence, you figure he’s just noticed the new face standing in the middle of the hall. Taehyung’s grimace turns from shock to confusion, and from confusion to some kind of sly understanding.
“Sorry,” he chirps, “didn’t know you had company. I can come back later if you want.”
“Actually— I think you should know this.”
Taehyung raises his eyebrows and offers Jimin his hand for a shake. “Really? Ah, I’m Kim Taehyung, nice to meet you. Wow, your hands are so soft! What lotion do you use?”
“Listen, this is what my ex left for me in his will. His name is Jimin.”
“This? You mean... that he’s his adopted child or something?” your friend retorts with a grimace. “Or a protégé?”
“No, he’s a robot.”
But he just lets out a laugh. “You’re kidding me.”
“God, I’m being serious— Jimin, can you show him?” The android obediently turns around and lifts his shirt, revealing a plug that sinks all the way into his lower back. “See? I know it looks like a fucking joke because I’m still trying to process it all – but he is.”
Switching his eyes from him to you, Taehyung finally grabs your arm and, excusing the two of you, pushes you into the kitchen before closing the door. “Are you nuts? So, they told you your psychotic ex-husband built a robot that you could take as a housekeeper and you fucking brought it in? What is wrong with you—!”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” you cut him off. “I know there’s something fishy about this. But I want to find out what.”
“If this is about—”
“Of course it is,” you cry out then and bury your face in your hands.
You need to know – you need to know if he was to blame after all or if you actually became a paranoid who dumped her innocent husband and convinced everyone that he was crazy. You need to know if you just pushed him into such a miserable and unjust fate that he had to end his life.
And perhaps Jimin has the answer.
“Whatever, I’ll keep an eye out on him. Just one creepy thing, Y/N,” Taehyung grunts as he opens the kitchen door to walk out. “One creepy thing and he’s a dead robot.”
You roll your eyes with a half-hearted grin and follow him back into the living room.
Jimin looks up from the floor. “I... I understand that my Master did bad things to you, ma’am— but I swear I’d never hurt you. I’d rather die myself.”
You decide not to answer or react to his puppy eyes. Then your friend claims to be too busy to stay – although he does make you promise that you’ll call him if anything happens – and you see him off with the shadow of Jimin standing behind you.
“Dude, it’s so fucking realistic,” Taehyung grunts before getting in his car.
Once the two of you are alone in the house again, you tell him that you’re going to take a bath to wash away every single ounce of stress from today. He nods with a smile and watches you enter the bathroom; it’s modern and large, your silhouette reflecting weakly on the black and white tiles. A spacious bathtub rests in the middle of the room.
You sit on the marble edge as you watch the steamy water fill up the tub.
When there’s enough water and the ceiling of the room is cloudy with steam, you take off your clothes, drop them onto the floor, and finally, sit down. Just that makes you let out a groan of pleasure, the feeling of the hot water licking on your limbs washing all your worries away.
You’ve always thought that there’s something oddly erotic in bathing – whether it’s just the freedom of being naked in the tub or all the possible ways one can be served and tended to.
After you wrinkle like a raisin, you decide it’s time to come out and get on with your evening; still a bit dizzy from the illegally amazing bath, you stand up to hop out of the tub, with the misfortune of slipping on some pool of water on the floor.
You fall on your backside, twisting your arm in the way.
“Oh, fuck! Shit!”
Somehow you manage to get up and pick up the remaining pieces of your dignity. Still, there’s a throbbing pain in your arm that means you most probably should have it checked.
And, of course, Jimin suddenly bursts in without knocking. “Ma’am? Are you all right—?”
His eyes immediately slide down your figure, fixing on your breasts, and you cover yourself up as an instinct.
“Don’t you know how to knock?” you grunt, ignoring the pulsing pain. “I, uh, slipped and fell. But I’m okay, don’t worry. Could make it out alive...” God, what on earth are you doing? You don’t have to cover up for him, he’s just a pile of circuits and microchips. “I’m fine.”
Slowly – tauntingly almost – you move your hands away from your breasts, feeling a tingle in the pit of your stomach when they softly move forward. You also uncover your crotch, and you’ve never felt so deliciously bare before. Jimin’s eyes flicker down to your perked nipples, he drinks up the sight of your figure for a slight second before he pulls himself back together and holds the towel out for you.
“Can you lift your arm, ma’am?”
You sigh. “No, it hurts too much,” you grunt then as you spin it. Great, now you’ll have to drop by the hospital to check if you broke anything. “I, uh— I need the towel.”
“Allow me.”
After staring into his eyes with defiance for five exhausting seconds, you raise your arms a bit, enough so it won’t hurt, so that Jimin can dry you.
Like the touch of a feather, he runs the towel against the skin of your shoulders first. Delicate, the cotton hugs you, it brushes you softly. Soon, he’s done with your arms and moves down to your breasts. It almost feels like his breath hitches at the contact of your mounds, LED-lit irises fixing on your nipples. If you were a bit more insane, you’d swear there’s some sort of sexual tension between the two of you.
But, of course, you’re not that insane yet.
Jimin was made to resemble a human— and he does, almost perfectly. A fairly good looking one on top of that. So, it’s normal that your realities are mixed up. Your coochie doesn’t know his robocock is made of microchips.
You have to stop yourself from thinking any further about Jimin’s cock. It won’t do you any good.
The contact of his fingers with your nipples, though separated by the towel, sends a shiver down your spine, and you shift in front of him.
Jimin does a very meticulous job as he kneads your breasts and brushes the fabric against them, eyes never leaving the view. For a second he sticks out his tongue, but it seems that – for some reason – he was just wetting his lips.
Then he drops to his knees, and it catches you off guard. Your core pulses at the unfathomable thought of having his tongue lapping at your wet folds, but you’re quick to hush them away.
“I should take you to a hospital, ma’am,” Jimin says softly, eyes looking up at you from between your legs. You can swear his breath feels hot. “Maybe you hurt your arm seriously.”
It’ll be a complete mess if you have, honestly. You need to hand in the sketches of your new work in a couple of weeks. A work that doesn’t even have a plot yet if you may add. So, obviously, you just can’t afford more delays.
Jimin finishes worshipping your legs dry after he asks you to sit down; you actually give it a thought at some point – you could tell him to bend down and eat you out until you’ve soaked his face and no one would be there to judge you. You could tell him to lie on the floor and let you ride his automatic cock until his stupid circuits break down. Not that you wouldn’t absolutely love it.
What a pity you’re too sane to do it.
Jimin shifts uncomfortably between your legs, eyes wandering and roaming around like crazy, before he gets up— and you swear, you swear there’s a slight tent in his crotch. You swear you saw it just now. Is that normal? Is it some kind of reaction programmed into his automatised body or something?
“Okay, let me just get ready and we’ll head out—” You turn around, realising something. “Damn it... Ugh, I forgot I brought the hamper down to the kitchen to do the laundry... Mind dumping it for me? I still have to dry my hair.”
Obviously, he nods with a gentle smile, but his eyes shift to red when he finally has your underwear in his hand; you decide not to give it much importance, though.
Since you asked him to look into your room in case there were any other dirty clothes lying around, Jimin turns the doorknob and slithers in like a shadow. It’s the first time he’s in your room – and the smell is mind-blowing; everything is imprinted with your fragrance, everything has been touched by you, everything has your essence all over it. Oh, he wanted to meet you so bad.
Not as reluctantly as he should, he can’t help pressing your underwear against his nose. It too smells like you.
You were so close just now, your warmth, your wet heat standing right in front of him. It makes something tickle within all his cables and microchips, makes him need and desire you in a way that he’s never felt before. Nothing could’ve ever prepared Jimin for the feeling of finally having you in front of him.
This smell that overwhelms each of his sensors, the fragrance of your skin that he got to learn so well, your luscious lips moving as you’d talk to him, your hands, so soft— you had invaded every single corner of memory he had prepared for when Jimin finally got to meet you in the flesh.
Now, he knows it’s wrong. He knows that giving in to his desire for you is not part of his plan. But God, how can he resist the urge, the yearning?
With a swinging movement, Jimin cups his hardening crotch; the contact is slight, but it’s enough to make him sigh and close his eyes to project images of those sweet memories. He pictures you lying on the mattress as he takes out his cock – with your legs parted and hooked around his head as he dips his tongue into your dripping slit. He wraps his wet muscle around your clit and sucks, making you clench around nothing, making you want him. A whimper escapes from your parted lips, it feels too good not to make a sound. Jimin laps at your folds deeper, wants you to remember the feeling of his tongue against your cunt forever.
The sensors in his cock thrill as he humps his hand, your panties shoved into his mouth.
It’s like a vine creeping up his throat and wrapping around it, would leave him breathless. His system wasn’t ready for this ecstatic craving, he needs to buck his hips faster and squeeze the sensitive tip.
He takes out his cock, craving more. Now fucking into your underwear, his cock slides between the folds, and Jimin comes with a pitiful mewl a second later. His artificial cum soils the already damp fabric with the frustrating, half-hearted feeling that it’s your pussy he’s filling up.
It spurts on his fingers too, so Jimin licks them clean before standing up to throw the panties into the washing machine for once and for all. Excitement bubbles up inside of him.
He was made for loving you, after all.
There are only two things that comfort you right now.
The first one is that, even though you hurt your left wrist, you need only the right one to draw. The second is that Jimin the android is here to do literally everything you want.
From taking out the garbage to cooking to massaging your feet or fixing the wobbly leg of your drawing table, he’s always ecstatic to help. For real, it almost feels as if you’re the one doing him a favour when you let him make your bed. It only gets weird when you need his assistance to do things like getting dressed or taking a bath, but Jimin is a robot, after all; it’s all in your touch-deprived head.
“Yeah, I see what you mean... But I can’t really change that, it’d create a plot hole; there’s a scene in the seventh chapter...”
Right now you’re having an online meeting with your editor, discussing the work you’ve been crushing your head off for. It’s six in the morning, you’re gonna need a whole lot more coffee to get through the rest of the day— and yet there she is, breaking you down like a truck. She’s not one for giving you any slack.
“A plot hole?” she repeats in disbelief. “You’d need a plot for that in the first place.” You let out a sigh. “Look, I’m sure these past few days have taken a toll on you, Y/N, but we need you to come up with something. The agency’s patience has a limit. You could try to spice things up a bit? Work on something more mature—? Maybe this is all just an artistic block.”
You frown, sipping your coffee. “Uh, mature? Meaning?”
“I’m not saying you go write a BDSM meaningless bestseller or anything, but... something mature readers could be interested in. Maybe you’ve just grown out of YA adventures for the time being.”
“Are you asking me to draw porn?” you retort with a snort. “That’s low. You know I like light-hearted stories. Besides, what could I write about? All I’d come up with would be raunchy stuff.”
“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend? Well, boyfriend, partner, fling— whatever.” Tilting your head, you wonder what the hell is she talking about, but then you notice Jimin’s back on your screen as he makes you another coffee. “Can he hear me—? You know, sexual themes can be very profound too.”
As deep as you’d like to, you think to yourself. But you don’t wanna picture Jimin in any kind of story that is in any way related to ‘more mature stuff’, so you just shake your head. That’s enough nonsense for a meeting at six in the morning.
Because well, ‘lonely girl starts living with a sex robot and eventually goes on having kinky sex with it’ sounds lame as fuck. And pathetic. It’s pretty humiliating already to realise you’re in that picture right now, at this stage of your life, in this economy.
“Well, I better get going— I have a meeting in half an hour. We’ll talk later.”
And, beep— the screen goes black, she’s gone.
“Your coffee, ma’am.” Jimin’s gentle voice snaps you out of your thoughts; he’s eyeing you intensely as he puts the mug down on the counter, almost as if he’s trying to get something out of you.
“Thanks. Can you pass me the honey—? Don’t bother, I can do it myself.”
Bitch, as if.
As soon as you take the spoon of out the jar, a jolt of pain pierces through your bad arm, and it slips off your fingers. Now they’re sticky with honey and you’ve made a fool of yourself. What a great way to start your already awful morning.
“I—”
Jimin takes your hand, not too roughly as to come off as rude, but rightly enough for you to suspect there’s something going on with him.
His stare is intense, red LED-lit rings piercing through yours in search of something, some reaction, some form of permission. The honey drops down your digits as a warning, now or never. Your heart beats painfully fast in your chest, threatening to burst right through your ribcage and onto his lap.
“Lick it clean,” you rasp. “All of it.”
Like your words are magic, Jimin rushes to part his lips so that you can put your fingers into his mouth. Funnily enough, it’s hot and wet, and you almost think you’ve heard him whimper.
Your core pulses, suddenly empty and craving something to clench around. As he keeps lapping at your digits oh-so thoroughly, you have to rub your thighs together, you hope he won’t notice. Could he, though? Can Jimin understand that he’s turning you the fuck on?
And then it sinks in.
Of course it feels hot and makes you tingle. Of course he acts like this— that is the sole purpose of his existence, to desire whomever he’s programmed to. He’s a robot, a machine. He follows cryptic orders.
But then again, as his tongue swirls around your fingers and he sucks the honey off them, you can’t help feeling the urge to bend him down on the table and ride his cock. Even if that’s pretty much the point, the craving you’re feeling comes off as terribly sad. After all, you just want to part your legs and order him to fill up this emptiness he’s provoked in you.
With a rather jerky move, you pull your fingers out of Jimin’s mouth, and he licks his lips immediately, sultry eyes looking up at you.
“T-that’s enough, you can stop,” you groan.
He gets up with a weak nod, perhaps waiting for you to ask for more, to order him to touch you, to kiss you, to pleasure you— but those words never come out of your mouth, and you get up quietly with your coffee in your hand.
“I’ll be… working in my studio,” you murmur. “Don’t disturb me unless it’s an emergency.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You call Yoongi as soon as – you think – you’re out of his hearing range. Not that he’s not a high-tech android perfectly equipped to eavesdrop on your conversation – you doubt he even has to eavesdrop, could perfectly well just be standing in a room on the other side of the house and still able to hear your every word.
He says he’ll show up in maybe half an hour, and you get the chance to work a bit on one of your drafts, although to no avail because your brain is dry, and ask Jimin if he can bring up some more coffee. By the time you’re done, he comes into the room with Yoongi walking behind him.
“How’s your wrist?” he asks while Jimin pours the required sugar, and you hold out your hand. Maybe you’re going crazy, but he’s so indifferent to your conversation that it totally looks like he’s eavesdropping. “Looks much better.”
You nod and glance at the android. “That will be all, thank you,” you murmur.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jimin leaves the two coffees on your table and leaves with a smile.
“Jesus, it’s like having, uh, well— it’s a fucking robot in your house,” he muses. “Are you sure this is still a good idea? Keeping an artificial intelligence made by your looney husband at home.”
You cock an eyebrow. “It was never a good idea, especially when you put it like that.”
“But…?”
There is always a ‘but’ with you, though.
“But maybe Jimin is my only way to find out if… he really did all those things,” you finish with a weak voice.
Threatening your co-workers, blackmailing your boss to get you to work from home more often, keeping your family away from you with lies and ploys. To know that his sobs and pleas were all lies, his way to guilt-trip you into forgiveness. His way into your head and heart, to mess with it, churn and mould it into one of his experiments. To him, you probably were never anything but that – another one of his wicked creations.
Maybe it’s stupid and pathetic that you’re grasping at straws to redeem and excuse him.
When the silence weighs in, Yoongi turns around to take his phone out of his jacket, almost knocking his coffee over. You gasp and get up to save the precious mug from a fatal fall that would have totally crashed it into pieces and immediately sneer at him.
“Sorry, I didn’t—”
“Be careful!” you cry out. “It’s my favourite mug.”
Yoongi frowns, taking the piece to inspect it with a judging look. “This? It’s literally the tackiest, ugliest mug I’ve ever seen.”
He’s probably referring to the awful pink glitter and the even shinier ‘there’s a chance this is vodka’ written on it. Of course, it’s never vodka, but it sounded so funny it made you chuckle when you walked past the shop during a promenade with your husband. You told him about it after coming home, and even though he didn’t seem too interested, he was listening since you found it lying on the kitchen counter the next morning.
Your husband never mentioned it again, or ever for that matter. It’s one of those little gestures that fill you up with guilt and remorse.
In some way, he did care about you. At least at some point in your relationship.
“Anyways,” Yoongi murmurs then, moving the mug to the centre of the table for its own sake, “it’s up to you. Just make sure to keep an eye on it, and if you notice something weird going on, don’t just think ‘it’s a coincidence, okay?”
Not that you’d ever think that, would you? You consider yourself pretty aware of the risks you’re taking; you just consider them worth it if it means you’ll discover some of the truth.
And then Yoongi frowns, staring at you. “But— why do I have the feeling you weren’t panicking because of that?”
“Okay…” You look down, into the dark liquid in your mug, as you muster the courage and get rid of the embarrassment. “So, let’s say I started to— let’s say I started to, hm, find Jimin too attractive for my own good?” Your voice turns into a whisper, afraid he’ll hear you – that’s literally the last thing you’d want him to know. “Like, seductive.”
“I’m not really surprised. I mean, isn’t Jimin a sex robot? I guess that’s what it was made for, so that just means it works,” he says instead, shrugging his shoulders.
“But then, uh, should I give in?”
You’ve come to the conclusion that, regardless of how you try to act, Jimin is going to turn you on.
Maybe he’s just too good at this, maybe you’re in need of a good fuck, or maybe you are in fact a pervert who finds the fact that he’s a robot a huge turn-on. Whatever it is, you can’t really go on living like this and pretending he’s just a friend who lives and hangs with you.
Jimin’s making dinner right now, a casserole to warm you up despite summer being around the corner. With his back turned to you, you see from your spot on the couch how his shoulders flex and contract as he moves around the kitchen. He stirs the stew and brings the ladle to his lips to check the flavour, groaning in approval.
But some of the stew splashes out and stains his hand, so he turns around to fetch a cloth. Seeing there’s nothing around, he then brings his hand up to his lips to lick it clean. His plump lips move against the skin, tongue flickering. It almost looks like he’s kissing it, and your core tingles.
Work. Yes, you need to focus and work on something productive.
Whenever he’s in your field of vision, you feel the stupid urge to touch him, kiss him, wonder how it would feel if you’d let him touch you at least once. The possibility is so real, just one word, that they terrify you.
Dinner is ready not long after, and the two of you eat in silence. It’s weird that Jimin eats at all, but he’s told you that it’s for the sake of his performance, to make things more natural; it’d be off-putting to just have a human-looking robot standing in front of you and watching you eat for a whole meal, and he’s right.
You have no idea how he eats and digests, though; there’s still so much you don’t know about him yet.
The way he’d put the chopsticks in his mouth, how he’d lick the spoon clean, the eye contact as he’d recreate such human gestures for your pleasure. It all was literally on purpose.
By the time you’re done eating, Jimin is already starting to clear the table. You thank him for making such a delicious dinner and get up to get some work done. Honestly, you need to be alone more than anything; alone to process how fucking turned on you are right now.
“Hell…” You close the door of your studio behind your back and let out a heavy sigh. “Let’s at least get on with the drafts.”
Draft, my ass. It’s barely a bunch of sketches and some oddly timed strips without any plot. You really can’t hand this over to your editor if you want to keep your artistic dignity, but all you can think of are Jimin’s luscious lips, Jimin’s slim body, Jimin’s thighs, Jimin’s voice, Jimin’s smile, Jimin’s eyes shutting tight when he smiles at you. Jimin, Jimin, Jimin. You’re a pathetic little thing who’s losing it for the resemblance of a man.
But why does it arouse you at the same time? Why do you get wet when you think about how lewd and low you’re acting? You tell yourself it’s ridiculous, but you’re dying for him to just kneel before your spread legs and eat you out.
Your hand moves on its own, your brain still wandering mindlessly around unlikely situations.
Breasts, thighs, lips, neck, the curve of a lower back sitting down, whispers, soft chuckles filled with secrecy, intimacy in the palm of a hand, kisses down the shoulder, hands venturing to touch and stroke and imprint its marks of adoration on the skin of a loved one.
When you come back, you notice they resemble you and Jimin; this is what you’ve been suppressing for weeks. Craving and longing for his touch.
Maybe this is the perfect way to unwind your frustration. You can let your imagination go wild, reflect on this confusing situation on paper, let it unravel and rebel before your eyes. After all, true artistry comes from honesty, doesn’t it? Aren’t all artists obsessed with their muses in some way? You’ll let Jimin pester your dreams for a bit longer.
You draw some sketches, key settings that you’ll use to close the plot later – if there will be a plot in the first place, of course. That doesn’t have to be entirely bad. Steamy scenes and a playful tug-of-war between guilt, obsession, and pure lust sounds good too.
The way Jimin licked your fingers clean, you know he eats pussy like a champ. He’d be so good, slurping and desperate and thirsty for your juices. Maybe a bit unhinged, hands gripping your thighs because he needs to shove his face in between.
There must be a range of stimulation to set his arousal off, right? Like, there must be things that turn him on, and maybe even a level to get him overwhelmed.
Picturing it your head gets too real when you rub your thighs together, stifling a groan. You need him to touch you, but you need to touch yourself for that matter. Sneaking a hand beneath your pyjama shorts and underwear, you stroke up and down your folds, smearing your wetness before you sink your fingers into yourself.
Legs folded and heels steady on the chair, you swing your hips and help to start working yourself open. It doesn’t feel half as good as you know Jimin’s cock would, but you can only picture him kneeled down and fingering you with his eyes glued to your reactions.
“Fuck— ah, s-shit, so good…” you moan.
Your other hand sneaks beneath your shirt to play with your nipple. Arching your back into your touch, it all gets faster, messier, impatient.
When your thumb comes to rub your clit, it feels harder to keep quiet. Fuck, you really want to have sex. With Jimin, only with him. You want to fuck him against this drawing table until you’ve creamed his cock, see your ex-husband’s talents recreating human pleasure.
With your mouth forming an O and your breast gripped in your hand, you come around your fingers, perhaps making more noise than you should.
As you come down from your high, you stare at the lewd results of your lust: two figures writhing and tangled around each other, bodies seen through the gaze of desire, warm loneliness mixed with the boiling fear of vulnerability. Jimin would never judge this, you realise. He can’t. He was made for loving you – or anyone – to an obsessing point, right now you’re his only one. You’ve fulfilled him.
Pretending nothing happened, you put the draft in a folder and keep the steamier ones in one of your drawers – maybe you’ll show them to your editor someday. Then you go to bed, luckily not running into Jimin.
The next morning, he’s making breakfast by the time you come down, hair done and confident in your outfit. But you overslept today, so you’re in such a hurry that you can only apologise for skipping such a lovely meal, and you run to get in your car. It makes him want to pout, but he’s better than that.
Jimin likes to tidy up around the house when you’re not home. He always feels like an inconvenience when it’s time to clean the room you’re in, so he always makes sure to schedule the cleaning around your activities. His bedroom first, always, and then the kitchen. Then he’ll sort it out through the day.
The food he made this morning goes into the fridge, knowing you’ll pounce it as soon as you’re back. The coffee, however, goes down the drain since it’s pointless to keep it. He’ll make you another one, he’ll make you as many coffees as you want.
One mug, two mugs, three, four, five, s— where your mug? Your favourite one, that is. It’s not with the others, and it’s not in the pile of dirty dishes either. Maybe you had a coffee last night and forgot it somewhere?
After looking in the living room, your bedroom, and the terrace, Jimin makes his way down the corridor.
The door to your studio always feels intriguing and threatening; you’ve never exactly forbidden him from going in, but it’s your den, your personal hideout. It feels like he’s intruding.
As always, the first thing Jimin notices as he walks in is the everlasting chaos lingering in the place. You never bother to tidy up after yourself as you work, and he gets so few chances to work on it that it’s almost always like this; his instincts scream that he gets down to business.
First, the mug.
Yes, he’ll fetch your mug and come back once he’s done with the kitchen.
Jimin catches the scent of coffee floating somewhere in the room, but there’s something else too, a heavier, sweeter smell that grabs his whole attention.
And then it downs on him – that it’s the scent of your arousal. You’ve touched yourself here.
Shaking his head, though, he pushes the thought to the back of his mind and decides that he’ll deal with that later. Now he needs to get on with his chores so that everything will be ready by the time you’re back home.
He finds the missing mug on one of the side tables, but the mess is too icky, he can’t help the urge to clean up a bit around the place, it’s almost an instinct in him. Just clearing the tables and opening the windows, and maybe sweeping the floor, that’s it. The bare minimum to keep a well-balanced level of hygiene.
After working on the side tables and tidying up the cupboard, Jimin moves on to your sketching table.
There are so many paper sheets and drawings scattered, even on the floor, messily pinned to the surface, marks of pencil and eraser crumbs all over the table. He squats to pick them up, dodging the half-opened drawer. He should close it before you hurt yourself.
When Jimin grabs the handle, the view of a naked figure catches his eyes. The natural need to know more, more of you, more of your desires – it all makes him open it completely and grab the paper.
The sketches are too little connected to each other to make any plot out of it, but the female character resembles you.
And the male looks just like him.
There’s this scene where she asks him to take off his shirt and sees the plug on his lower back, exactly where Jimin’s is. Just like him, he’s a robot. The sexual tension between the two of them is palpable. Is this what you feel about him? Tense and guilty and teetering on the edge every time you look at him?
Until he checks the next paper and sees that this one is longer. In fact, the scene takes more than five pages, far more than the other unconnected short scenes.
It all starts with her going to bed, probably picking up after a stressful moment. She’s wearing nothing but a flimsy tee and panties, the focus on the shape of her breasts too delicious and obvious to ignore. Yours bounce like that too, so naturally.
The android opens the door and stands in the middle of the dark. Somehow, it doesn’t feel creepy, just— anxious. He can read the mixed feelings in his stare, the same guilt consuming her.
He probably just walks up to her resting body to admire her, maybe smell her scent. A speech balloon pops up, he’s thinking about how he knows she wants to be pleased, how her boyfriend left her wanting this evening after parting ways. He doesn’t touch her like he could, too lazy, too stupid, too clumsy.
His Master was the same – obsessed with you but for all the wrong reasons. A projection of his hurt human ego and the urge to control you because everything else was out of his reach.
The male character now starts to nuzzle her neck, take in her fragrance. Playful hands sneaking under the clothes, she sighs and turns around, splayed on the bed for him. He immediately cups one of her breasts and takes her nipple into his mouth, sucking with hunger.
She locates the pleasure in her dreams and remains asleep, much to his frustration.
His hands roam down her waist and hips, worshipping her tender flesh and naked thighs. With a trail of peppered kisses down her stomach, he ends up crouched between her legs, tongue hanging out before he licks down her clothed folds. She groans, almost waking up, and it doesn’t take too long of having her cunt lapped at for her to do it.
What— what are you doing?
Let me please you, Master. I beg you. I know how wet you are, I could touch you in ways he never could. I’m a servant to your pleasure.
Jimin automatically drops the papers to shove them back into the drawer. Your scent is still heavy in the sensors of his nose, and the memory of your arousal against his tongue has not gone away – and never will.
And now he knows you want him as much as he wants you.
His system reacts instantly, the idea of you desiring him activating every mechanism as his body warms up and his cock starts getting hard. Buried in your cunt, swallowed by your pretty lips, pumped between your fingers; there are so many things he wants you to do with him. And the things he’d do to see your face scrunched in pleasure, gasps and groans coming out of your pretty lips; the possibilities feel so real now, he can almost touch this new reality.
“Oh—”
The fake flesh twitches when Jimin sneaks his hand under his underwear and wraps it around his cock. It’s leaking so much already, his Master built him well.
Paced and quiet at the beginning, he soon starts to buck his hips into his first, the friction never enough. Jimin pictures it’s you he’s fucking, that you let him sneak into your bed, wishing for him to touch you and lap at your folds until you’re coming. He doesn’t know yet how his sensors will react to the warmth of an actual person, but he knows yours will be heavenly.
Filling you up, peppering kisses all over your skin while you stroke his head and praise him for being so good – it will all be just as promised, the greatest fulfilment of his existence. You want Jimin to do it, and he’s dying to oblige.
“Ngh— f-fuck,” he gasps. “Ma’am, Y/N, fuck, fuck…”
You’re so beautiful, breasts full and fleshy, hardened peaks when it’s cold. He’d worship your hips and waist, nature made human, finding completion in the welcoming embrace of your legs around his hips. His cum would leak out and drip down your thighs, he could fuck you again and again until you’re satisfied, until you’re content with him.
His hand is now moving at a speed that will soon bring him to climax. With the other resting on the table, Jimin pumps his cock, millions of images in his system.
The dirty sketches in the half-opened drawer stare back at him.
“Oh fuck, there, m-ma’am,” Jimin whimpers and squeezes the tip, “fucking Christ—!”
White, creamy cum spurts out and lands on the table, on his tummy. Some of it even ends up splattered on the floor. Once is enough, he thinks as he forces his hand to stop, riding out his orgasm.
His greedy sensors begin to relax at the lack of stimulation, and Jimin tucks his cock back into his pants so that he can clean up his mess. He came to tidy up and ended up making it all dirtier – what would you think? Would you punish him? It was a mess, after all; dirty, messy, naughty.
But you want him. And you want him now.
“To be honest, Y/N, I wasn’t completely sure you’d even show up, but this is… This is brilliant! Hot, mature, dark, defiant—”
You glow at your editor’s praise, ignoring Yoongi’s judging look. Unlike her, he does know that there is an actual android living in your house whom you find particularly hot. But he’s not going to say anything, not when one of your projects has finally got her approval.
“I’m gonna keep this and hand it to my chief, okay?” she says with a smile.
You shrug. “Sure… I, uh, drew some steamier stuff, but I didn’t bring it here since I didn’t know how you’d react,” you say then, bringing the mug to your lips but noticing it’s empty already.
“Oh! I’ll talk it out with the publisher and give you a heads-up, how does that sound?” your editor continues. “It all depends on the level of explicit content they’ll want to keep for the work, but honestly, it sounds hot as fuck, so I’m sure you’ll be able to explore the topic wholeheartedly. Now—! Take the rest of the day off and go home, get a latte, take a bubble bath, whatever.”
She then grabs her stuff and storms off her office, claiming to have dozens of meetings and things to do. Which is probably true.
“I really can’t believe it – oh, you’re such a whore.”
“Hey!” you groan. “You were the one who told me that I should just… give in.”
“So, did you?” Yoongi asks, collecting the empty mugs and fetching all the papers her boss left behind herself.
“Not with him, but yeah, kinda. I mean, I found some ways to unwind,” you simply reply and help him clean up. “I’ve decided that this new outburst of ideas is too precious to waste.”
Instead of nodding or something, Yoongi just scoffs at you. As if that was the reason. But it’s helping you get over your artistic block, which is good for his job too, so he’s not going to complain too much. Besides, you look more at peace, and that is pretty much all that matters.
It’s almost lunchtime. You decide to call Taehyung, and the three of you meet at a nearby restaurant to have a bite together.
While you are an author and Yoongi is an Assistant Editor, Taehyung is part of the creative team. He designs covers and similar stuff for novels, helps you come up with colour schemes and pallets, and really is overall the eye everyone needs to make things shine their brightest. You met him and Yoongi long before you met your husband, and they’ve been with you ever since.
“The weather is so fine lately!” the youngest exclaims. “Why don’t you throw a barbeque?”
“At my place?”
Taehyung nods and looks at Yoongi for support. “Yeah, why not? Just make the robot do it.” You frown immediately at his words. “What is it now?”
“The android has a name, you know,” you reply.
“And why would that matter? It’s a robot, just a pile of circuits and microchips,” he mumbles, too shocked at your offence. “Even if it looks like a human, it doesn’t make it one, Y/N.”
You don’t know why, really, but it infuriates you to hear him talk about Jimin like that. Maybe you’ve gone a bit too far humanising him— it. Humanising it. But it feels so real when you look at… his eyes, his smile, his lips, his button nose. Something crafted with beautiful skill.
While your husband had made you a monster, he had made Jimin to be a piece of art.
Then, how could you not be angry at Taehyung’s shallow, hurtful words? Whatever love and sorrow were created with, Jimin and you were made from it.
“We all have our coping mechanisms, don’t we?” you finally say, shrugging. Yoongi chuckles next to you. “I don’t see why I can’t live a lie like that until it blows up in my face. Maybe you remember I’ve lusted after way worse men.”
Men, that’s the thing – Jimin is not a man.
Taehyung frowns. “Uh, I thought you originally wanted to pry secrets out of it about your ex.”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“I think— you’re mixing things up,” he sighs then as he starts playing with his fingers. “Maybe you should get back in touch with your therapist and discuss it with her? – you’re not going to listen to me anyway.”
You decide not to dwell on the subject any further; you want some peace of mind for when you come home to Jimin. He’s always such an expert when it comes to your gestures, can pick up any mood swing in an instant. It was scary at first, but now you’ve come to feel astonishingly natural about it. Maybe you even find it soothing.
It’s past ten when you get home. Not too drunk, maybe a little tipsy. At most – you swear.
Tiptoeing your way through the entrance hall, heels hanging from your hands, you hear the notification sound and take out your phone. You let out a giggle at Taehyung’s idiotic text, but suddenly you’re bumping your face on the wall and letting out a groan of pain.
Just as your wrist is finishing to heal, now you’re hurting your nose? Great.
You whimper a bit more on the floor before you get up and go on your way, still rubbing the bridge of your nose with a frown.
After managing to do your skincare routine and change into your pyjamas – or rather a tee and a pair of panties because Jesus Christ it is hot – you tuck yourself into your bed with a smile, glad to finally find yourself ready to sleep. Not a single worry or concern in your head, just the utter joy of knowing that tomorrow you won’t have to face any troubles.
And just like that, you fall asleep. And as always, one thought goes to your mysterious housemate.
He’s all over you, hot breath fanning against your cleavage.
With his hands snuck under your shirt and kneading your breasts, Jimin begins to play with one of your nipples and profusely watches your reactions, hoping to see you wake up any time soon.
You, however, only groan quietly and arch your back, thighs rubbing together. He’s not getting concerned only because you’re still breathing and you don’t look too pale. Jimin leaves a trail of kisses down your neck and rucks up the fabric, engrossed by the sight of your bare breasts.
He wants to touch every corner of your body, but he wants you to be awake to enjoy it.
Slowly, Jimin makes his way down to the waistband of your underwear. Your smell is so sweet, so intoxicating, each of his sensors is going wild at the mere thought of tasting you; your arousal against his tongue as he laps at your folds, your breasts bouncing as you arch your back, it all makes his fingers tighten on your hips. This desire to melt into your body is consuming him.
Jimin doesn’t need air, but he feels breathless.
His fingertips stroke your clothed folds, feeling them warm already. Arousal soaks the fabric, you’d welcome him so easily. One word from you and he’ll be on his knees ready to pleasure you.
“Hm…” you suddenly let out, turning your head around. Your hips buck, chasing his touch.
This is exactly what you wanted him to do, he thinks as he pulls down your underwear. He will fulfil your fantasy tonight.
As Jimin finds room between your thighs, you stir on the bed, pretty much unbothered for now. You’ll wake up to ecstasy, he’ll make sure you do. The firmest path to your love, he’ll carve it with his teeth if it’s necessary; with his tongue shoved between your legs as he helps his Master find complete bliss.
The trail of thoughts has left him a bit agitated by the time his lips meet your skin. Jimin plays with your inner thighs, kissing the flesh, teasing his sloppy way to your folds while his hands stroke up and down your waist. The sight of your wet heat welcomes him.
His tongue parts your lips, and he grips your butt to spread your legs, giving him better access. He wants you to drown him between your legs, make him yours, claim him. Sucking, licking, lapping at your folds, slurping and flicking his tongue; Jimin watches you move on the mattress once again, a soft moan escaping from your lips. Your thighs hug his head so nicely, and your hips rock against his mouth in a greedy search for that wet, warm pressure.
“What—?” Your eyes widen at the sight of Jimin’s face shoved against your cunt, and you pull your hips away from him in a jerk. He doesn’t try to stop you, crawling instead on top of you. “What the fuck, Jimin!” you let out. “Get away from me!”
You push his face away with your palm, and he backs off without complaint. Jimin ends up sitting on his knees – so poignant and obedient you almost pity him.
His face is still soaked with your arousal. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I thought—”
Jimin cuts himself off, and you’re surprised to see that you’ve managed to leave him speechless. Then, seeing you’re not showing any reaction besides your bated breath, he crawls back to you, and you lie back, unsure about what to do. What is there to do now? He seems insistent, and your core is still pulsing, eager to be pushed over the edge.
“I want to pleasure you, ma’am,” Jimin murmurs, staring down at you with his intense red LED-lit eyes.
They’re almost heart-shaped, seeing the adoration he’s looking at you with. It makes you rub your thighs together again.
Your eyes flicker to the red switch behind his ear for a second.
“Why?” you ask with a thin voice.
This time he nuzzles your neck but you don’t mind. Instead, you have to resist the urge to move your hand from his face up to the crown of his head and pet him. You want to know why would he decide to sneak into your bed and— well, eat you out.
“I… saw the things you drew,” Jimin says, and your cheeks heat up in a mortified blush. “So, I thought they were… us.”
“W-well, you thought— you thought wrong, Jimin—”
He nods weakly and lowers his eyes, perhaps unable to keep eye contact now that he’s failed in his task. You have no idea what his ‘brain’ works like. “Yes, ma’am, I see it now.”
Was it wrong of him? Of course it was. Have you been wishing that he – or you for that matter, were you any braver – would do it? Absolutely yes. Jimin has finally surpassed the line you were even afraid of admitting it was there, and you feel… free; to touch him, to let him touch you, to kiss and be kissed. Maybe this will be your final downfall into madness, so God, let it be spectacular.
“That’s not the answer I was expecting,” you muse, suddenly grinning. “What do you say when you’ve been bad, Jimin?”
His eyes look into yours in search of some kind of hesitation, of some signal that he might be taking your actions the wrong way – again. But you’re staring up at him, a confident look on you, hands stroking the back of his hair as they move to play with the switch.
His body trembles.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I won’t do it again.”
“That’s better.” Your smirk widens, leaving the switch behind to stroke the back of his hair. “Good boy.”
Good boy. Good boy. His whole body goes into overdrive, limps tightening to bend down for a kiss. Good boy. But you don’t want him there, not yet, so you beckon at him to keep going further down, and Jimin gets it instantly, nestling his head between your legs without a question; you’re still dripping wet from his previous ministrations.
His laps at your nub turn sloppy as his flat tongue moves long and slow with broad strokes, there’s saliva running down the corner of his lips again. Jimin wants to savour your wetness until it’s recorded in every chip inside his head.
“Of fuck, oh— Jimin, J-Jimin,” you groan. “Shit! There, just like that—”
This is so much better now that he can hear your voice.
Your sweet voice he’s fantasised so much about, every night since he recalls his own existence. It’s been you, always you, you all over.
With your thighs fluttering around his head, Jimin opens his mouth and starts fucking you with his tongue – a perk about being a robot is that his tongue never tires, like, ever. And he keeps shoving his pointed tongue inside of you again and again, until he pulls away; his chin is soiled with a filthy mix of your arousal and his saliva, whatever that’s made of.
Making eye contact, he slips a finger inside. You’re stretched out enough for it to slide in easily, especially since you’re dripping wet. His tongue keeps flickering at your swollen nub.
“Come up here.”
You finally join for a hard kiss, lips crushing in desperation. The contact leaves you both trembling, eager, expectant. He’s still wearing his pants as he nestles his hips against yours, face buried between your exposed breasts.
You take his hand in yours to pace it, and he gets the clue instantly, curling his finger inside of you.
Knuckles deep, Jimin keeps pumping them in and out carefully, eyes fixed on your face to see what makes you grunt and moan. You tug at his hair, sensors throbbing in excitement at the roughness, when the knot in the pit of your stomach tightens.
“I want you to make me cum,” you say then, staring into his glowing eyes.
“Yes, Master.”
He fingers you while you kiss him, brushing lips together, sucking on his tongue, fingertips massaging your dripping walls and rubbing your sweet spot.
It all feels so real to the touch, you’re slowly sinking into a different world; a world where he’s human and you’re cradling a person in your arms, a world where your heart doesn’t bleed at any resemblance of love. A world where it doesn’t scare you. And it’s all Jimin, hovering over you like a dutiful shadow.
“Master,” he moans against your lips. “F-fuck, I was— I was made for loving you, Master.”
And you were made for being loved by me.
Jimin’s lips clumsily brush against yours, your tongues rolling over each other in a sloppy kiss. Pleasure grips your guts tightly, you can’t help but wish it was his cock instead working you open. Fucking you into what’s probably the best orgasm of your life.
Pleasure seeps into you with a shiver, starting from the crown of your head and taking over the rest of your body. You call for him in a whisper, and Jimin replies chanting your name like it’s a prayer. The way he adores you just pushes you further into your approaching climax. The coiling tension in your stomach engorges and gets bigger, you chase your orgasm against his fingers, his thumb stroking your swollen clit until your guts tighten.
“Shit, J-Jimin, you’re— you’re doing so well,” you groan and sink your teeth into the fake flesh of his neck. “I’m close, I’m close—”
Your hips stutter as they thrust up against his fingers, and Jimin goes faster, trying to separate the delicious sting of your love bite to focus on his arm’s motions. They have to be perfect, exact, and precise to bring you to your climax.
But he lets out a moan of pleasure when your walls clench around his finger; the memories of your warmth around him are foggy and delirious.
His body feels boiling against yours, machinery melting. Whatever his conscience is like, it’s slowly vanishing into pleasure, a mellow taste of honey on his tongue. It’s sweet and intoxicating, just like your touch – just like your hands, crawling right now to his neck to anchor him over you.
Then you go still underneath him, under his cautious stare, and with a grin, you climax around his fingers. You groan his name and claim his lips again, to which he obliges, of course. Your skin is sweaty, and you’re fighting to catch your breath while he worships your body in the afterglow of your orgasm.
Jimin peppers little pecks down your neck and chest with adoration. “Thank you, Master, thank you, thank you—”
Now that you’ve quenched your sickly thirst for the robot, you’ll go on living your normal life. No more nightly encounters, no more delirious feelings of tenderness. You will exist normally from now on.
You’re a liar. A filthy, wicked liar.
Never again, you had told yourself after that night. Letting Jimin eat you out in your own bed until you came not once but three times was one thing. Letting him sleep next to you as he recharged was a bit over the line but still acceptable.
And now here you are, sitting on the kitchen counter with your legs spread open and Jimin’s warm tongue shoved into your cunt. This wicked tryst has been going on for days now, seems to be your chosen pastime ever since. Any time you run into each other at the house, it’s like you get instantly wet and feel that familiar tingling between your thighs, and he’s not even a bit less reactive to you. Whoever reacts first doesn’t matter, the other will act accordingly; it’s as if you were addicted to each other.
Jimin knows your body like the palm of his hand. Knows where to touch you to make you tremble, knows what to say to fuel you. Always so eager to please you.
It’s like your hormones are constantly bubbling up, boiling inside your body pending his presence.
You’re practically fucking Jimin’s mouth with your tongue now. Fingers tangled in his hair, you want him as close as he may be. The feeling of his wet tongue on your cunt still lingers like a throbbing memory.
“Jimin,” you whisper against his lips.
His hands are on the counter, grounding himself. “Yes, Master?” he replies then, following your lips in another kiss.
“You’ve been enough of a tease, don’t you think?” you ask with an arched eyebrow, and Jimin tilts his head to the side, rather confused. “I want your cock now.”
You don’t know why, but you've yet to try him out. All of him, that is. Jimin has proved himself to be worthy of your body and trust, able to worship with each part of his. Except, for some reason, his cock – but you’ve started to suspect why he’s so reluctant to do it.
As Jimin begins to fumble with his pants, his eyes are fixed on yours; it’s the first time you notice him unsure about something, and it makes you shrink in doubt. Your hands find rest on his.
“You didn’t like it,” he murmurs then, “with him.”
How he is aware of that you don’t know. Although he doesn’t refer to him as his Master anymore, you’ve taken over that title now. For Jimin, that sweet, evergreen word will be chained to you forever, and he will honour it. Engraved in his hands, in the pad of his fingers, in the tip of his tongue as he worships you.
You cup his cheeks, stroking them with your thumbs. “But you’re not him, are you?”
In a way. You’d be repulsed.
Jimin’s silence confuses you, but you decide not to dwell on it, and so you pull him in for another kiss; you run your tongue over his lips, and he parts his luscious lips to let you in.
With a mischievous grin, you jump off the counter and face Jimin as you play with the waistband of his trousers, making him step back until the two of you slowly fall on the couch. Once you take his cock out, you raise your hips, finally about to feel him.
And then a ringing noise interrupts.
His LED-lit eyes turn into a devious yellowish tone when you pull back to pick up the phone with a groan.
Jimin knows that voice, has seen the guy’s face – Kim Taehyung, the little shit who would hit on you all the time when you were at work. The memories of his face are tinted with an angry red he hasn’t even put there himself, bloody-like and rabid. But the mere thought enrages him, and he doesn’t understand why.
“I know it’s at short notice, and it sucks, but my boss wants us to get at it as soon as possible…”
Seeing Taehyung is still talking, you mouth at Jimin ‘work’ so that he knows you’ll hang up as soon as possible. You love your friend, you really do, but can’t he understand that you’re off work right now?
“Okay, sure, see you. Bye—”
The call has barely finished when he grabs your phone to throw it away. When you turn to demand an explanation, a shiver takes over your body. It’s a feeling of dread, one you’re familiar with.
“Don’t go,” he begs, nuzzling your neck. “Stay home with me, please.”
Warm tears wet your neck, his arms tangled around you. You’re unable to move right now, but you’re not fighting his grip off either, too confused; not aware of the storm of screeching thoughts passing by in his mind, mixed with alien feelings that are rooted deep inside of him.
You’re staring down at him dumbfoundedly when Jimin pulls back. There’s an instinct inside of you screaming to get away, but instead, you wipe his tears.
He grabs his head and looks down with his eyes closed. “I’m— I’m sorry, Master. I-I’m so sorry, please forgive me,” he whimpers then, but it doesn’t feel like he’s talking to you when Jimin starts hitting his forehead. “Forget it! Just forget it, forget it, forget it!”
Your chest feels heavy, and your body feels cold, the heat of the moment nowhere to be seen.
Slowly, you get off of him to pull your pants back up, and he does the same, avoiding your eyes. He doesn’t need to know he’s let you down right now.
But this time, though, you feel bad for him; Jimin is sobbing in a way you’ve heard no one cry before. It’s the purest form of self-inflicted pain you’ve seen, and maybe you only remember your own laments to sound like that. When you’d wake up and look in the mirror just to greet the pitiful reflection of a thrown-away doll.
You coo at him as you leave a kiss on his wet lips. “Shh, it’s okay.” Had it been another person, you wouldn’t be feeling this warmth in the pit of your stomach – but you are, and you want to sooth Jimin’s pain. “I know you didn’t mean it. Just don’t do something like this again.”
The main difference is, your Master never apologised. He always thought that, whatever he’d take with his deadly hands, he was entitled to it. The world owed him adoration.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, nodding.
“How about I turn you off while I’m at work?” you ask him then as you rake your nails through his hair.
“Please… I want to rest.”
With a gentle flick of your fingers, you turn Jimin off for the first time. Watching his body shut down is almost like watching him fall asleep, and you smile sweetly at the sight.
He probably won’t get cold, but you cover him with a cosy blanket anyways. And so you walk out of the house, grabbing your purse on your way. A meeting with the creative department doesn’t sound like fun right now, but actually, you could use some work to blow off this weird feeling inside of you.
Because, how on earth does he know those things? You’ve never told anyone that your ex-husband used to be a complete ape with his cock. Not on purpose, you hope, but Jesus Christ, you’d always have to limp your way to the bathroom afterwards.
Also, he’d always make you dry as hell.
And even though he wasn’t loving, nor a good lover, nor sensitive or caring, he had you in the palm of his hand. You can’t recall a more humiliating feeling than remembering you were in love with him.
The meeting goes, well, just as you expected – boring and way too long. Could’ve perfectly been just an email. But the team is happy to see your project go on, and you’re happy too. In fact, it’s done its job so well that you only remember about Jimin’s odd behaviour today the moment you step back into the house.
Jimin is sitting on the couch, right where you left him.
Looking cherubic and beautiful, you stare at his eyes, his cheeks, his lips, his nose, and wonder where did your ex-husband get the inspiration to make him.
You lean in for a kiss on his inert lips as your thumb strokes the switch behind his ear. Naturally, his body doesn’t react in any way to your presence, and you let out a chuckle of frustration, finally turning him back on.
His eyes flutter a bit before he looks at you.
“Hi there, angel.”
Jimin smiles softly at you, nuzzling your hand in search of warmth. How sweet he is, he’s nothing like him. Not a bit.
He claims your cuddles with a gentle tug at your hand, and you sit next to him, letting him rest his head on your shoulder. You rake your nails through his hair as you stare into the nothingness, too engrossed in your thoughts.
However, you’re starting to feel weirded out about just how much Jimin knows about you; why would your ex ever tell him about your problems in bed, for example? Judging by his reaction to the call, did he also talk about that time when you flirted with Taehyung perhaps a bit too much, before you confessed you were married and became friends? You don’t think your husband knew about all those things, let alone told Jimin about them.
So, why does he know, then?
What else does he know that you can’t even fathom? Your chest tingles at the prospect of already being bare before him; there are so many things you still feel ashamed of, you don’t want him out of all people to… know.
Besides, you still have no idea why. Actually, you don’t know a thing about Jimin, about his origins, about how or why he was created like this. You had sworn and promised in the past that you had decided to keep him to find out about all of that, and really, you’ve just forgotten about it.
“I just remembered” – you suddenly get up from the couch, and Jimin pouts at the sudden lack of warmth – “I left some sketches in the office. I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Will you be back for dinner?” he asks, nonetheless.
“Yes, of course.”
Then you get up to fetch your purse in silence. Once you have everything you need, you wave your hand in goodbye and head to the entrance hall under Jimin’s consuming stare; it’s not watchful, but it really is intense. You feel it burning on your nape.
“Master?” You turn around when he calls you again. “You’re not mad at me about earlier, are you? I don’t know what happened to me, I’m really sorry… I was made to make you happy.”
Made to make you happy, made for loving you. You, you, you. It’s always you with him, like you’re his world. It only makes you frown, but you help the urge and smile instead, wishing it will ease his worries.
“Don’t be, I understand—”
“I’m not like him,” he suddenly says, and you feel cold all over.
“What?” You try to put on a calm face, but what he just said really weirded you out. “W-what do you mean?”
Jimin gets up and walks up to you, gently tugging at your arms. “I’m not like him, I would never be. He was a despicable monster, a-and I know I’m not even human, but— I love you, Master, I love you better than he ever could.” Then he kisses you, and you can’t help kissing him back. “I’ll do better, I promise. I won’t cross you again.”
His words make your stomach churn, but you don’t say anything; you’ve got some heavy work ahead. So, you peck his lips one more time and say goodbye, leaving him standing in the entrance hall all on his own.
It’s luminous, with a sickly white light, just as you remember it. Sterile, made of steel, and eternally silent. Few places give you the creeps like your ex-husband’s lab.
Although the place is not huge, you’re so unfamiliar with it that you wouldn’t even know where to begin with. He surely must have kept a journal of his experiments, right? He was always so keen on writing on paper— but maybe they took it away already.
It’s so weird to think that he’s dead now, though – you always thought him so powerful, so eternal, that death was never in your mind. How could it be when he was the ruler and commander of your life? What would you be without him, you pitiful butterfly? Always his angel, his pretty little thing, his loving wife he was so in love with.
And now he’s dead. Like a pathetic, weak human, he’s dead.
Instead of feeling sad or uneasy about it, it makes you feel good. It feels so, so good to know that he’s rotting somewhere. You hope it hurt.
You move around the room, looking at your surroundings; plans and sketches scattered on tables that no one has bothered to clean, half-made robotic arms, and dozens of inventions displayed on shelves like they’re his prizes.
But contrary to what you expected – or not since you always knew he was a control freak – you find his journals piled up and sorted out by date on one of the shelves at the end. If you remember correctly, Mrs Im said he started working on Jimin five years ago. That is, three and a half years before your divorce, so you look for the notebooks with that year written on them.
“Aha! Gotcha.”
You start revising the first journal, turning the pages as your eyes fly over the letters. Finally, you find the first notes; he mentions a folder with the official project information, but you will look for it later. What you read is more or less what his lawyer told you, the research of android models for sale as sex products.
It feels a little strange to read it on paper, so cold, when Jimin’s presence is so warm.
However, something catches your attention out of a sudden. You read it again to make sure you didn’t misinterpret it, but it’s pretty hard to do it:
The experiments are running smoothly: thanks to my memories, Jimin reacts to basic stimulation, and his sensors work well. Today it hardened only by smelling one of Y/N’s pieces of underwear. It will be a success if I manage to set his arousal on with vaguer objects or smells.
You turn the pages, being met only with shallow comments on the experiment. But you want to see if he mentions you again. What did he mean, ‘his memories’? How could that be possible? And why would he use you out of all people to test Jimin’s… sensors, or whatever he’s talking about?
To check next day: refractory period. Just when I was about to see if Jimin recovers faster when the stimulation is linked to her, she came down to announce her mother had just arrived. I ought to continue the experiment from there.
I hate that old woman; I wish I could get rid of her forever. I know she talks shit about me to Y/N.
Your eyebrow immediately arches at the comment; for years he would cry about how your mother hated him, and it turns out the feeling was mutual. Honestly, at this point, you’re not even surprised.
For the time being, you want to focus on processing the fact that somehow your crazy ex-husband managed to turn his memories into chips, or whatever. You don’t have a clue about these things. To insert them into Jimin and, well, you guess, customise his sexual arousal? Does that even make sense?
Jimin seems to have taken on an odd behaviour lately. It follows Y/N around the house but is aware it must not be seen. It knows of conversations the two of us have had without being present, and even of things not even I knew about; today Y/N showed up with a new mug and thanked me for buying it, but it was not me.
I have also noticed a growing aggressiveness towards me. More verbal than physical, but I am studying the possibility of speeding up the selling.
Suddenly breathless, you limply put the notebook back on the table.
So, it wasn’t him. None of it was, probably. The mug, or the flowers, or those cute notes he’d leave on the fridge wishing you a good day – they had all been Jimin’s. And suddenly you feel so, so fucking relieved.
He had been the problem all along. Not even Jimin, who had his memories, had his wickedness. Jimin was sweet, so he could’ve been too; he just didn’t want to.
And that is all you needed to know.
Then you realise you’ve reached the end of the notebook. You grab the next one, which covers a year and a half and covers your divorce. This is probably the only chance you’ll ever get to know what he was really feeling back then. Or ever, for that matter.
It seems that my memories are a bigger influence on Jimin’s personality than I first thought. It has become obsessed with my wife as if it was in love with her.
I know it was the plan all along, but I cannot help wondering if I have taken it too far.
I have not been fighting to keep her with me so that thing will ruin my chances of staying with her.
You smile fondly as you read it. However, as your eyes reach the last paragraph, you frown with disgust at his words. How could he speak like that of his own creation? Oh, what a heartless man. You cannot help but pity him. A body filled with hatred and fear and pain, he was a good for nothing.
This week I will be conducting no experiments as I ought to see my lawyer.
You quickly turn the page again.
This time, you’re startled as you observe the handwriting; it’s messy, angry, written so strongly that the pen almost ripped the paper. The page underneath is marked, the letters never to be forgotten.
I hate him. I hate him, and I hate her. And I love her. Y/N is mine, Jimin is mine, they are both mine, yet I cannot make them do what I think it’s best.
She fucking left. I would make her such a masterful thing if she’d only let me.
But there’s always that beastly creature stopping me.
Stopping him, how? What did he mean by that?
The next notes don’t feel too interesting; he doesn’t even sound like he’s enjoying himself anymore. The comments are technical, and he noted down some of his thoughts about the companies that had offered to buy Jimin.
But then you realise something.
If he wanted to sell – and it sounded like he was pretty confident about his decision – why would he leave Jimin to you in his will? If he wanted you to stay as far from him as possible.
You’re done with the notebook, so you grab the next one. It seems to be the last one, too; there are no more journals in sight, and it looks like most of the pages of this one have never been touched before. The spine doesn’t look too used either. Maybe he finished the project quickly before he even had the chance to write much?
There’s no way out. Every time, it manages to catch up on me. Wherever I go, it knows. Whatever I do, it knows. It will be standing at the end of the corridor, looking at me, grinning like it knows my darkest secrets. I cannot get out of the house without it knowing, it knows everything. I’m sure it’ll kill me.
If I die, it killed me.
My love, if you ever read this, please know that he is worse than I will ever be. If you’re reading this and I’m gone, know that his hands are dripping with blood, not mine. I know I’m sick, but so are you. We were sick in love, were we not? Loving each other until our souls rotted.
He’s different. He has no soul, no sickness. He doesn’t understand your darkness the way I do.
It makes me full, like an endless cycle. There is no birth without blood, but for him, there was no blood, no guts. He’s as human as I will make him, ripped out from my ribs.
His love is my sickness. Remember it if you ever love him back.
“Master?”
For the first time in a while, you’re terrified to hear his voice.
Turning around, you see Jimin standing at the top of the stairs. You flinch when he takes a step down, so he stops altogether and waits for a reaction, a word, a sound – anything from you, something to let him know you don’t despise him.
“Did you follow me here?” you ask with a frown, too afraid not to be crossed.
“I was worried,” he murmurs. “You left so suddenly you forgot your phone at home… A-and I did think that perhaps you were lying and that you’d be coming here instead.”
And he was right, in a way. But that doesn’t give him the right to follow you. That’s practically stalker behaviour. You’re starting to get the creeps, so Jimin goes all the way down to you and gently takes your hands. You don’t know if you don’t move out of fear or because you’re too comfortable with his touch.
Your voice comes out weakly. “Did you really kill him?”
“Yes,” he says with a smile. “I— I did it for you, Master. He erased my memories, I had to do something. He wanted to take me away from you.”
“So, you killed him,” you repeat, rather to yourself. Nodding slowly, you pull your hands away from his and turn around, needing some air to sort out your thoughts. “Because— because you wanted to stay with me? Why?”
You already know the answer. You don’t believe it yet, you don’t think it possible – but you know what words you’ll hear.
“Because I love you.”
Jimin seems ashamed of it, as he avoids your eyes and decides to stare at the floor instead. Like a boyish love confession on a sunny school day, your delusional body warms up the idea, but he can’t, can he? He can’t love you.
“Jimin,” you call softly, and finally, he looks up from the floor, “when you look at me, do you see me? Me, as a human, as a woman, as a creature? Do you even understand all of that?”
And then he smiles, and your chest blooms. “Yes – and you’re fascinating.”
All those years watching you, sneaking glances of you walking around the house, so close but still so far away. He’d dream of you, dream of you in his arms, him in yours, sharing kisses, pleasuring you the way his Master could not. He’d be careful, he’d be loving, he’d listen to each of your words.
“He gave me this body and all the cables and everything that keeps me moving, but you, Y/N— you gave me a conscience! You made everything make sense! You made me human,” Jimin claims in a whisper.
You can’t help but frown. “But he deleted them. How can you still remember me?”
You’re getting an answer for each of your questions, but somehow, they all seem only to leave you even more confused.
“He didn’t,” Jimin rushes to say, and then he goes on to explain further, seeing your puzzled face, “Not all of them, at least. I didn’t let him. I wanted to be with you, I didn’t want to… forget you.”
“Why?”
“Because after I got to know you through his memories I realised that, if there’s any person on this world that could accept me despite what I am, that was you. I thought you could love me.”
Letting out a sigh – of desperation, tiredness, love, you have no idea – you cup his cheeks and purse your lips. Do you love him? You’re not sure. Your stomach churns and turns at the mere idea of losing him, but can you really love him?
His words echo in your head like poison. His love is my sickness. Remember it if you ever love him back.
But is it, really? Jimin’s love feels soft. It doesn’t feel smothering or drowning. He loves you just the way you want to be loved. You don’t feel owned by him, on the contrary. Actually, you think Jimin loves you despite his husband’s sickness. That must be why he apologised when it took over him this evening at Taehyung’s call.
The sickness shrieked, the love apologised and learned.
“I know they aren’t mine,” he continues, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I know it wasn’t me you fell in love with, whom you slept with, the person you decided to spend the rest of your life with. I know it was him all along, but I—” Jimin nuzzles your neck in a desperate search for your warmth. “I can’t help it! I was made for loving you!”
But instead of answering, you tilt his chin up and kiss him.
“Living— living with the memories,” he continues as you leave pecks on the corner of his lips, “of your touch, of your warmth, your love.” Jimin’s arms tangle around your waist. “Loving you but forced to stay away – it was torture, Master.”
His breath feels warm against you, his hands feel hungry around you. His red LED-lit eyes stare into yours, searching for a sign, any indication of love.
You brush your lips together, softly at first, until his whimper makes you grin and run your tongue over his lip, asking for entrance. You suck his bottom lip into his mouth until he does, tongues rolling over each other in a heated kiss. With your skin burning up, you run your hands through his hair, and Jimin cautiously squeezes your butt when you push him against the counter.
Suddenly, you sink to your knees and begin to fumble with the waistband of his pants.
“So, you have sensors, right?” He nods weakly. “Everywhere.”
“Y-yes, ma’am—”
“And is there any way to alter them? Is it possible to make you last longer, or even make you not last at all?” you ask, still kneeling before him. Again, Jimin nods and closes his eyes. “Then, I want you as sensitive as possible.”
“Yes, ma’am…”
He must have a limit, and you want to find it. Either he runs out of cum, or his sensors give up, or he just fucking short-circuits.
It doesn’t take long for Jimin to get hard between your fingers, smooth rolls of your wrist as you pump him with an affectionate but hungry pace. Letting out a gasp, Jimin grips the edge of the counter for balance; he’s indeed too sensitive not to react to the touch he’s been craving his whole existence.
“So hard,” you purr, “I can’t wait to taste you, Jimin…”
“M-master, please, Master! Oh fuck, oh—” Jimin whimpers in response, gritting his teeth.
His body is shaking when you part your lips and engulf his cock, eyes glued to his pretty face. His knees buckle, and he squeaks in pleasure, you hollow your cheeks to swallow more of him. Meanwhile, your other hand gently plays with his balls.
“That— that f-feels so good, Master,” he rasps. In appreciation, you suck further down onto his cock until there’s a trickle of saliva rolling down your chin. “Shit! God, thank you!”
You somehow manage to grin with his cock between your parted lips. Jimin seems too aroused to process any robotic thought properly, so you move your hands to his ass and knead the flesh, pushing your lips into your mouth. He yelps instantly and follows it with his hips, and then you dip your tongue into his slit; it makes him let out a sob and almost fall to his knees, warning you of his climax, or rather begging you to slow down.
Your darkened lips, wet with saliva, suck again while your tongue presses on his tip. His cock throbs, a salty flavour you think it’s fake precum lingering on it. His hardened length slides in and out of your mouth with sloppy movements.
Jimin lets out a choked sob. “Master!” Filled with guilt, as gently as his trembling body will let him, he puts his hands on your hair. “L-let me cum, I need to— I-I need to come, please—”
Finally, you raise your head to let his length slide out of your mouth, and you catch back your precious breath.
“Sensitive, are we?” you mock him.
There’s time for him only to roll his eyes, out of annoyance or pleasure, before his hips buckle into your mouth one more time. The coiling tension in his sensors pools in the centre of his body, Jimin sucks in a sharp breath, and soon his cock twitches again, heavy on your tongue, warning you of his high.
“Master,” he whimpers. “T-thank you, Master, fuck— shit!”
And Jimin spills himself inside of your mouth, his release salty and more similar to actual cum than you expected. After swallowing, you help him ride out his orgasm using both hands and lips.
He’s still holding his weight on the counter when you speak, “Get on the table and lie down.”
He was probably expecting to eat you out since you pull down your pants once you straddle him, so it does take Jimin by surprise when you align your entrance with his half-hard cock. You hear him mumble something as your hand grips his cum-covered length, fingers playing with his release and making him let out a gasp.
“Are you still sensitive?” Barely able to keep eye contact, Jimin nods weakly. “Good.”
You quickly get rid of both your and his shirt. Once you’re naked against each other, you bend down to finally touch, knead, nib, and kiss wherever you feel like; you’ve had enough of leisurely letting him pleasure you without taking your part.
Your warm lips leave a trail of kisses down his neck and chest. “I’ll ride you again and again… until you either run out of cum or short-circuit.”
“M-mast—!”
Jimin lets out a choked sob when you sink down on his cock, immediately rolling down your hips. A hint of pain takes over you as your walls grip him, stretching around his length, and you moan. It’s been a while since you last had such a nice cock work you open— but then Jimin’s hands grab your waist, and his blissed face takes you completely off guard.
“Fuck, so good, Master, I love— I love you,” he whines.
His eyes move down to his cock disappearing into your body; you feel so warm, so wet, the pressure around him letting him know that you’re stuffed with him too.
You breathe out and thrust down onto him again, setting a desperate, frenetic tempo. “You feel good too, angel, shit—” The sounds of smacking flesh echo across the room, pushing you to ride him faster. “Gonna fuck you until I go mad—”
With your hands splayed across his chest, you use him for leverage to slam your hips together.
“Please, don’t stop!” Jimin begs you then, eyes rolling back. “Oh, coming, M-Master! I’m— I’m close, p-please—!”
You bend down again and nuzzle his neck only to gently bite on his earlobe, making him purr. “So, you want to come inside of me, Jimin? Want to fill your Master up with your cum? Is that—” A groan drowns down your throat when his cock finally finds and pumps into the right spot. “I-is that what you want?”
The heated kiss the two of you share is enough of an answer. You tilt your hips so that your clit rubs against his pubic bone, pushing you closer to your climax.
Body arching against you, Jimin pushes back up against your thrusts erratically. His thighs move up and down to help, the seeming muscles bulging and flexing, and all his system starts to burn, aching to burst. His cock slides into your dripping cunt in a desperate tempo.
Jimin sucks on the skin of your neck before whispering, breathless, “I’m—”
And then you feel it – a tremble, a soft pant, and one last powerful thrust up into you before you groan at the warm feeling of his cum flooding you. Jimin reaches out for your body as he convulses, hugging you tightly before you give in and kiss him. Your hips don’t stop after even helping him ride out his climax, and he looks at you with his brows knitted in confusion. But you smirk, his creamy release leaking from your entrance and leaking down his cock.
“Ugh— hurts, Master,” he whines then. His fingers dig into your waist.
“Told you,” you whisper; “I’ll ride you until I come, no matter how many times I have to make you come.”
Like a man who has accepted his doom, Jimin lets you kiss him again, this time hungrily sucking his bottom lip into your mouth. A groan vibrates in your throat, you can tell you’re close, judging by the way your body is burning up, your swollen clit rubbing against the base of his cock.
It softens partially inside of you, but not for long; maybe it’s because of his sensors – since they’re set to the highest level of sensitivity – that Jimin sucks in a sharp breath when you clench around him.
“I’m close, angel,” you say, almost grunting.
You’re close, can feel your climax teasing you. Heat spreads under your skin, and you have to fight not to crumble on top of him, thighs burning. He stares at your sweat, covering your body, sliding down the valley of your breasts, tapping against the metal surface. You enjoy how Jimin responds to your touch when you stroke down his chest and realise he’s close too.
Slowly, you raise your hips and snap them onto his cock again, eyes never leaving his beautiful red LED-lit irises.
“Cum with me, will you?”
You’re so full of his cum already, you’re sure it’ll leak out for hours. But your lips find each other in the sickly whitish light blinking over you, and it’s so comforting that you can’t help the tension snapping in the pit of your stomach with a deep moan muffled against his lips.
“Shit, shit, baby—! Oh, fuck, so good, so good,” you chant, now rutting your hips faster.
You dissolve into pleasure with his arms around you, grounding you to him. Walls fluttering around his cock, the shockwaves grip your body like a fit of hysterical lust, pushing you to fuck him faster, harder, balls swinging against your cheeks until Jimin lets out a trembling sob; then he empties himself inside of your tight walls, and you relentlessly fuck him through his orgasm, slower by the minute.
Jimin watches your breasts as they heave up and down in an attempt to catch your breath. Meanwhile, his system slows down, now trying to run smoothly.
You smile when his thumbs stroke your waist in circles. “What?”
“I still…” His smile falters, now totally back on earth. “I still don’t know if you want to keep me, Master.”
“You’ll have to stop calling me ‘Master’ eventually, you know,” you say and ignore his pleading question. Caressing his cheeks feel way more interesting right now.
“Why?”
“Well” – you sit up on his lap, making some of his release leak out and drip down your inner thighs – “I’m sure people will start making questions, don’t you think? I believe you should stick to it only at home, when we’re alone— or even better, only in the bedroom.”
It takes him a second to realise you’re taking him. With this, you’re claiming him, you didn’t even doubt it for a second.
Jimin is yours, forever, however long that lasts.
Don’t hesitate to like, reblog, and leave some feedback if you liked it! It’s always good and encouraging to know what you think <3
“arte factum” is copyright ²⁰²² Lola Bangtan, all rights reserved.
#sub!jimin#sub!bts#sub jimin#sub bts#jiminff#oneshot#horror#scifi#s2l#secondchance#yandere#unrequitedlove#robot#jimin android au#bts sci-fi#yandere!jimin#bts horror#AI AU#jimin x reader#jimin x you
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Tchaikovsky’s Tantrum
⮌ Summary: 𝘈 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘹 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯.
⮌ Genre: Smut
⮌ Word Count: 2k
⮌ Pairing: VictorianEra!Jimin x Fem!Reader
_________________
“My love.” He breathed into your hair, as if nothing else in the world mattered right now. It was you and him, two lovers entangled in the heat of passion. You had been exchanging longing glances before you took the first step and scuttled forward. After sundown, he promised. After sundown, he would be yours. And did he deliver. You knew he wasn’t lying. All those moments, the gazes. It was clear he didn’t think of you as the help. You hated being the mistress in the situation but his wife was just so callous. From the moment he walked through the doors, the horror began.
“You forgot to say goodbye,” or “I will not attend that boorish meeting, it is for hags,” or, “I will not touch what was sitting on the floor. I will need a new bag.” She was at least 8 years younger than him, but she acted like a child. He was only in his mid-thirties, and she, in her late twenties. They did not have a single child despite being married for about four years. It was uncommon to not have heirs which is why you suspected the motive of his infidelity. It was not like you were forced to either, the young Count was handsome, and you felt lucky to even gaze upon his face whenever he passed by. Just a glimpse was enough to get a pool forming between your legs.
You did not understand why his wife refused to carry out her duties as she slept in a separate bedchamber, and did not even once lay with him as long as you and the other maids had known her. Every person in the manor knew she was having many affairs. She kept it secret from him but a part of him also had to have known. You even saw one of the men leaving her room once. And it was NOT her husband.
Your relationship developed with time, as any natural relationship. It started one day when you caught his attention. You were cleaning the table and leaned forward and he looked at you a bit longer than usual. You thought he was absentminded and did not mean anything by the gaze. Yet, your mind wandered, and so did your hands, below your undergarments.
You did enjoy the teasing. Once when you were cleaning the table, he leaned forward and grabbed your hand. His wife was reading a book so she did not pay mind. You looked at him, but you did not make eye contact. You simply…let him rest his hand on yours.
And then, the encounter. You were on your way to the maid’s quarters and about to pass by Lady Park’s room, when you saw the master of the house standing outside her door, his face pale and his blank as he listened to her muffled voice through the door. You knew he had to have heard an exchange she had with a lover, or that he had enough evidence that his wife truly did not feel an ounce of love for him. Then, he looked into your eyes. You saw that behind this Lord, there was a man…a man with emotions beyond what you thought were possible for him. His eyes glistened with tears.
You did not say a word.
The next day he did not approach you. He rather…waited. Then you ran into him again, at a different night, in the same place. He told you things, things that made your heart wretch. He did not have a friend behind these walls, simply people that used him. You did not wish for him to be alone so you kept him company. You started getting to know each other. Sometimes, he would make jabs and lighthearted conversation with you at the breakfast table, other times he would bring you to the foyer with the grand fireplace and tell you stories.
And then one night…he kissed you. You were surprised, in the best way possible. That was when the affair started. Months after getting to know each other. You had made love countless times before but this time was different.
“J-Jimin.” He looked at you as you breathlessly whispered his name.
“Nobody will catch us, my sweet.” Your grip tightened on his arms as he rocked forward, his cock sliding up against your thighs.
“You don’t know what you’re doing to me…” You said.
“Oh but I do. And now the fun begins.” He smirked, getting off you before grabbing the candle from the table and tilting it forward. You let out a small whimper as some of the wax splashed on your skin and dried.
“Ow!” You let out a cry.
“It’s okay, it hurts at first…but it’s fun.” He reassured you, but you were taking deep breaths. What if it was not just wax? What if you were marked?
“I see….the wax dries.” You chipped it off your skin. It was just dry residue.
“So…where would you like it?” He asked, biting his lip as a couple of drops spilled on his own hand. The kinky bastard.
“My chest…” You played with your breasts, squeezing your nipples while you looked at him with the most innocent eyes you could muster, and he looked at you with desire.
“My, my. How pretty you look with wax all over your body. My perfect sculpture.” He dripped the wax over your breasts and they burned. You shut your eyes, knowing the worst part was already over. “You did amazing, honey.” He captured your lips in a quick kiss before helping pick off the wax with his hands.
“My…you’re a man of peculiar tastes, Jimin.” You tutted, but he caught on. You were enthralled with the man of the house, and he in turn, with you.
“Ah, but you still stay familiar with me,” He kissed your hair softly. “Not many women take kindly to having wax poured on them.”
“I try my best not to forget my place.” You sighed, reminding him again of your awful reality.
“My love, you are with me now. Behind the doors, there is no society. No one to tell us what is right from wrong. I do not have a marriage, it is simply a parchment of paper at this point. My heart lies with you, Y/N.”
He was right.
The next day it was ten and three quarters, when Mrs. Park walked into the room, looking to be mad beyond her normal schedule. She looked right at you, but did not say a word. She scoffed and looked at her husband.
“You fucked someone, right?” She was furious. Jimin did not say a word, sighing from all the noise so early in the morning.
“What is it now?” He asked her, tired of his lady’s yelling.
“You can’t just fuck random girls when your main duty is producing an heir for the estate. I should be the only one you fuck now.” She said this all shamelessly in front of you, like she was putting on an act to make you reveal the truth. She was both vulgar and an embarrassment to the Park name. But no servant would dare tell that to her face, no.
“You’re right,” Jimin stood up, clearly annoyed with her behaviour now. “So why have you been fucking random men in your quarters every night? The entire house can hear you, you know?” Jimin said with a slight look of disgust on his face. You noticed how he was quick to also play the victim. He might have appeared faithful to his wife but little did the other servants—or Mrs. Park know. You were the only person that could call him out on his lie.
“So you knew,” She folded her arms. She meant to test him? “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” It was as if she was more hurt he didn’t find her out than the matter that she was unfaithful to him. These two were definitely not suited for each other.
“Because I have also been having an affair.” Your eyes widened at Jimin’s sudden confession, but you made sure to keep your composure. You were their breakfast maid, so you were the only one of the staff not dismissed.
“You’re such a bad husband,” Mrs. Park stormed off. “Make a baby with that bitch instead, then.” Jimin dismissed her, waving his hand at her as she angrily went to a different part of the house.
“I’m sorry.” He said after a while. He looked sad.
“Don’t be. We both know her words carry little weight.” You misspoke. Jimin flared his nostrils in anger as he banged his hand on the table.
“That is my wife! Her word is just as important as mine, if not more. Her purpose is to manage affairs of the house when I am not in. You have no right to weigh in on our household! You’re a maid.” Everything he stated was a fact, but it still hurt all the same. You did not let it show on your face.
“Right. Sorry, Mr. Park. It won’t happen again.” You bowed and went to the servants’ quarters as you dismissed yourself.
“Wait, Y/N,” He followed after you. “I didn’t mean–Y/N stop!” He grabbed your wrist.
“Or what? You’re gonna fire me? Pray tell, Lord Park, what will you do when the lady finds that I was the one you were fucking while she let some asshole piledrive her last night? It’s not fair! It’s not fair that you aren’t allowed to be your own person.” She sighed, more angered by the situation and Mrs. Park than Jimin himself.
“I know, but she knows now. That means we have to be careful. I don’t want anything happening to you,” He bit his lip as he took your hands in his. “I love you.” It wasn’t the first time he had said those words to you but lately you have been feeling quite out of sorts.
“You say you do, but your actions suggest otherwise. Please, restrain yourself, Lord Park.” You pulled away first, and walked back alone. You felt bad but it felt good to do something for yourself for once. Lord Park was evaded successfully as you requested other tasks and had different maidservants sit in with him for breakfast. His wife had not spoken with him for a whole fortnight, and this had the whole town talking. Breaking the marriage was not possible for them. However, Lady Park had taken to seperating from him almost entirely. It was probably for the best, however Lord Park felt guilty. You knew he blamed himself for her unhappiness.
You couldn’t do anything, though. You were a commoner. Not like that could help.
“My love.” He stopped you, just as you were taking a tray to the kitchen. He was in the hallway, and you felt perplexed.
“What are you doing here?”
“I live here.” He sighed, you knew right away he regretted his actions.
“Jimin, I didn’t want to see you.”
“I know you’re mad at me but please–hear me out.” You decided to stop and set the tray on a side table.
“Before somebody sees us. What did you want to say?” You felt like this needed closure but what best than part ways? His wife knew he had an affair and maybe not all the details but you couldn’t risk being thrown out on the street.
“I know I’ve been an asshole, but…I want you. I want us to continue being together because you keep me happy and grounded.” You parted your lips in a sigh.
“Listen Jimin, you know I have feelings for you too, but you upset me. I’m “just a maid.” You really hurt me.” You explained.
“I know, I’m an idiot. Please, just….stay with me?” You nod.
“Okay, I’ll give you another chance. Just please…don’t let your wife catch on.” You said, holding his hand. You also needed this job, but you loved him. You loved him more than you cared to admit but it was so dangerous.
The next night came when you spent it in a barn, away from the servants or the nobles that may have been around. He made love to you as gently and sweetly as he always had, your saccarine angel. He was the Lord of the mansion, yes, but when you were lovers nothing else mattered.
“J-Jimin….” You moaned as his lips were hot on your neck.
“Y/N…you feel so good.” His voice was deeper, a rasp forming as he thrusted into you.
“Ahhh….” Your voice was light and airy.
“Mmmm.” He moaned as you kissed passionately, and with a few more pumps, he came undone. His hips slammed into yours repetitively. You felt your insides clenching, as he dug his nails into your waist, holding you in place. You needed him, your body arched back as he fucked you with a bit more force, and you took in as much as you could but much of that had been with the intent of stretching you out for him. Your body was burning with the desire of a thousand suns, especially as he stopped moving for a moment to let you readjust. You groaned as he put one of your legs over his shoulder and tried accessing you deeper, which worked.
As he worked you open, you felt your entire body loosen around him. You drooled as he gave you his thumb to suck and focused on fucking you as you deserved. You both needed this.
“Ahhh, ahhh, Jimin….” You moaned his name as he grinned down at you. You knew he meant to fuck you right, but this was better than you expected.
“Fuck…you like that baby?” You nodded, in the heat of the moment sucking his thumb.
“Mmmm, Jimin.” You sighed. You felt a bundle of nerves fluttering as his hand moved down to your thigh and dug in as he pulled you even closer. Your arms went behind his back, as he pulled you so you were sitting upright. You kissed him, expertly sliding your tongue against his, tasting his cherry red lips and sucking his bottom lip, letting go with a “pop.” Jimin was good at fucking, but boy could you kiss the shit out of that man.
“I love you…” He whispered, kissing your neck as you moved your hips. You knew he was close, and so were you. You rode him with a desire to be filled, to have him as yours someday.
“I love you too,” You whispered. “I’m close.” You said, alerting him as he nipped your shoulders and left a few marks. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his teeth break the skin. His lips created a suction.
“Me too. Let’s cum together.” He whispered hot into your ear as he looked into your eyes, directly as you maneuvered your hips forward and back until you came undone, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“Oh….ohhhhh.” You moaned, as he grinned while kissing you open-mouthedly.
“Mmmmm, Y/N, you’re so tight,” He kissed your neck. “Good lord, you’re gorgeous.” He sighed, feeling sated as he came inside of you, his white hot semen spilling out of you and dribbling down your thighs as he pulled his cock out of your used hole. You kissed once more, before getting under the covers and getting some rest. When morning came, you would probably be getting a new job, or suffering the wrath of his wife, but at least you had his heart. That was what mattered the most now. You squeezed his shoulders as you laid with him. Who cared about what the morning held? What mattered now was the present moment.
#BTS jimin#jimin fanfic#jiminff#Smut#bts jimin smut#bts mature#victorian#au#jimin x reader#bts jimin x reader
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Fanart of Layton Gray, from my wattpad story Kohaku, soon available in English.
What do you think his story is? 👀
IG: _vbtshiroyasha___
Wattpad: _ShiroYasha___
Tiktok: vbtshiroyasha_
Tumblr: vbtshiroyashaa
#clip studio paint#art#digital drawing#alastor#comic art#digital illustration#bts#hazbin alastor#digital art#wattpad#jimin#jiminff#ocs#oc#small artist
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SONGATHON MASTER LIST
𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝘃𝗮𝗿𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗯𝗹𝗲𝘀, 𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗱
—KIM SEOKJIN
𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗻
—MIN YOONGI
⇝ 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱
—JUNG HOSEOK
𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗻
—KIM NAMJOON
⇝ 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗲
—PARK JIMIN
⇝ 𝘀𝗵𝗲
—KIM TAEHYUNG
⇝ always forever
—JEON JUNGKOOK
⇝ outside
⇝ 𝗻𝘂𝗺𝗯 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴
#fentyjjksongathon#vivwrites#jungkook ff#namjoonff#seokjinff#jinff#yoongiff#jiminff#taehyungff#hoseokff#jhopeff
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Hello there
pairing — jimin x female reader
genre — fluff (with a bit of sexual stuffs huhu)
::If I was given the choice to re-live my life, well I dont think I would make any choices that would differ from the previous ones...because all of them led me to you::
I look myself over one more time in the mirror. I used to wear my hair above the shoulders with edgy bangs, but it's grown a lot in the last couple of years. And not without reason. I brush my fingers through the long, dark strands of hair that I've trained to cover most of the left side of my face. I pull the sleeve of my left arm down to my wrist and then pull the collar up to cover most of my neck. The scars are barely visible like this, and I can actually stomach looking at myself in the mirror. I used to think I was pretty. But hair and clothes can only cover up so much now. I hear a toilet flush, so I turn quickly and make my way to the door before the woman can exit the stall. I do what I can to avoid people most of the time, and not because I'm afraid they'll stare at my scars. I avoid them because they don't stare.
The second people notice me, they look away just as fast, because they're afraid to appear rude or judgmental. Just once it would be nice if someone looked me in the eyes and held my stare. It's been so long since that's happened. I hate to admit that I miss the attention I used to get, but I do. I exit the bathroom and head back toward the booth, disappointed to still see the back of my father's head. I was hoping he would have had some kind of emergency and been required to leave while I was in the restroom. It's sad that I'd rather be greeted by an empty booth than by my own father. The thought almost makes me frown, but I'm suddenly sidetracked by the guy seated in the booth I'm about to walk past. I don't usually notice people, considering they do everything in their power to avoid eye contact with me. However, this guy's eyes are intense, curious and staring straight at me. My first thought when I see him is, "If only... this were two years ago."
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Its happening again...they are fighting again sighing i look at my mirror "ugh...i need a hair cut" grabbing my car keys I jogged towards the front door, silence...perhaps they finally noticed me "I'll be back in awhile" i told them while putting on my shoes. " Eat something before heading out, come" i finally looked towards my mother, her eyes they are red...so was my fathers, Are they finally letting themselves go? maybe. "No im not hungry" i opened the door.
Would my present be different if i lisened to my mother? Do i want things to be different?
________________________________________________________________________________
I want to break out in a sprintin order to get his eyes off me, or if I should walk in slowmotion so I can soak up the attention.His body shifts as I begin to pass him, and his stare becomestoo much all of a sudden. Too invasive. I feel my cheeks flushand my skin tingle, so I look down at my feet and allow myhair to fall in front of my face. I even pull a strand of it intomy mouth in order to block more of his view.
Just a fewmoments ago, I was thinking about how much I miss beingstared at, but now that it's happening, I just want him to lookaway.Right before he's out of my peripheral vision, I cut my eyesin his direction and catch a ghost of a smile. Maybe he didnt see my scars...
It annoys me that I even think this way. I used to notbe this girl. I used to be confident, but i guess the accident broke every ounce of my self-esteem. I've tried getting it back, butit's hard to believe someone could ever find me attractivewhen I can't even look at myself in the mirror. Ugh.
"As i was saying, I think u should organise a fan meet and stop being an annonymous writer, people want to see u" i tear my eyes from my father to the coffee sitting on my table untouched. "I'm not ready" i heard a sigh. "it has been two years" i shiffted on my sit uncomfortable...my fathers hand reached out to me grabbing the sides of my face, they were so warm. "take as much time u need...im here" nodding m head i smiled but i dont know why i felt so heavy in my heart...it was so heavy. "i think i have an idea for my new poetry" believe me or not but the only good thing after the accident happening to me was me becoming a writer, I didnt know what came in me one day i decided to write a poetry and publish it and it became a best seller.
________________________________________________________________________________
I should've slept last night i cant think straight, was this always the road i took, God i swear sleep-deprived driving is far worse then drunk driving, I feel my eyes closing...I try to keep them open I see a little girl crossing the road and........CRASH............
blood...everywhere whats going on?
HELP I CANT MOVE...SOMEONE HELP
i want to scream but nothing comes out is it the end
i hear footsteps with sirens...am i getting help?
please help me...I want to live
i feel someone pulling me out of the car, i feel his hand on my neck, he was slapping my cheeks....i wanted to open my eyes to make sure the girl was ok, was she ok? is she alive? what happened i dont remember....
beep......beeep...beep....
My eyelids feel so heavy, i wanna sleep if i open my eyes i have to face the consequences im not ready but i dont wanna die away...Looking arround i see my father on the right side of my bed, Why cant i open my left eye, i try to get up...im covered in bandages, funny i cant feel any pain, im glad im alive.
"Dad" whisperring i poke his hand, he jolts up. Did he not sleep for a week? "U look terrible" he looks like he'll cry any moment now. "You should look at yourself first" how bad can it be?
A week passed by there was no sign of my mother, I was told i hit a pole and the girl lived, i remember her face, she was preety cute. My father says my mother left, i didnt expect much from her but a visit wouldnt hurt right? I just hope my wounds heal faster its super itchy...
A month passed by, its just me and my father we are on our way to my physical therapist so that i can walk again and i dont have to use this stupid wheelchair
We were in the waiting room...whispers...they were whispering about me, poor girl she must be on so much pain. The left side looks so bad. Can't these people tell i can hear them, i opened my ponytail heaving a sigh. i feel heavy...
My therapist told me i should write down my feeling, so....
Whenever the clouds of pain and sadness loomed.
Whenever tears came till the eyelashes,
Whenever this lonely heart got scared,I told my heart, Oh Heart, why do you cry?This is what happens in this world
This deep silence the world has distributed it to everyone,
Some sadness is a part of everyone's life,
Some sunshine is a part of everyone's life,
Your eyes are wet without any reason,
Every second is a new season
Why do you let go of such priceless moments?
Oh Heart, why do you cry?
________________________________________________________________________________
"Anyways, we have a meeting with our illustrator this friday be ready" i hum while finishing my coffee. "we should head back" my father said grabbing his things. I hurriedly looked for the guy...just a last glance...he was gone.
Friday came, he is late I took his profile out, Park Jimin....it baffles me that my supposed illustrator gave no picture how will I even recognise him, good thing my father knows this guy, sighing I put my head down...i hate headaches so much...
"Sorry im late" I hear nervous chuckles "you know morning traffics" I look up ITS HIM...THE GUY...ITS HIM... I see the corner of his lips turn upwards, was it me or he was smirking...My father went straight into buisness, everything was so blur, i was just staring at his face, he is beautiful.
He says he has been an illustrator for five years straight, my father seems preety convinced by him, so am i.. If i were to compare the beauty of him and his work, his work wins scoring a homerun for sure. It speaks with such depth that you want to drown in it.
He shook hands with my father, coming right infront of me he offers me his hand...i take it, I feel his thumb brushing against the surface of my skin. Will it be weird to say that i felt excited? I didnt know i was hold my breath till I was inside the car. "I like him" my father utters "Same" I feel my cheeks flushing. I think i might have been single for a while now...
"Are you always like this, flirting with whoever u want?" Jimin snapped his head back to u "I saw u, winking at the waitress" He bit his lower lip...i want to bite it too..his eyes threw a mischivious smile at me, there is something about his eyes, I cant put a finger on it. " Why...you jealous?" i scoffed at that, yes..."why would i be jealous?" chuckling he put his hand on his chest " ouch...i wanted u to be" why would he? "Girls like you are not made for flirting ... they are made for love"
Days passed I was struggling to write, there was something bugging me and the fact that Im alone right now is more depressing, AAAAAA I want to scream, will i have my periods soon? maybe but why am I tearing up there is no reason, God i hate mood swings.
Alchohol...this thing is a fools gold, you know its bad for u but u cant help but have it...and it also turns u into a fool. Why u ask? because only a fool will ask someone to drop by to their house in the middle of the night. With what reason? because they feel lonely. And here i was contemplating what i should say to the person infront of me.
"Would u like a drink?" he narrows his eyes at me "you are lonely" fuck...i dont look a him in the eye. i clear my throat " I just wanted to discuss about..uhh" he puts his head on his hands which is supported by the table as he leans in " Wanna go out?" One look from me was enough for him to take a hold of my hand and drag me outside. Was he always taller then me? I pulled him back "Its late" i smiled at him. "Do u paint?"
And here we are infront of his house, because he thought it'll be great to have a painting date in the middle of the night. Was it a date though? It felt like it. I was sitting infront of a canvas processing what was happening. His Art room reminds me a art museum, paintings everywhere, i dont know what an art museum looks like but i think i got a gist of it. "May i paint u?" Shock was written on my face, insecurities filling me in "I-"
He puts one finger on my lips and he pushes the hair away from my forehead, running hisfingers through it until it's no longer hanging in my face. "Youwear your hair like you do because you don't want people tosee too much of you. You wear long sleeves and collared shirtsbecause you think it helps. But it doesn't." I feel like i might cry. I feel his fingertips graze my jaw and I flinch. "You havethe most incredible bone structure, and I know that's a weirdcompliment, but it's true." His fingers leave my jaw and trailup my chin until he's touching my mouth. "And your lips.Men stare at them because they want to know what they tastelike, and women stare at them out of jealousy because if theyhad lips the color of yours, they'd never have to buy lipstickagain."
His forehead is resting against mine, and I can feel hisbreath crashing against my lips. Jimin steps forward and wraps his arms around me.Everything about him is comforting and warm and I have noidea how to respond. One of his hands meets the back of myhead and he presses my face against his chest.
few days passed by since that day, I decided to put my hair up in a ponytail. My neck it looks nice, i like how it looks...i love it. I get down for breakfast, i smelled pancakes my father turns arround with a plate delight crosses his face when he saw me. "you look good" I didnt know what was this feeling but it surely feels very light, exciting and comforting . I think I know what to write...
The moment seems to flow like a molten sapphire and there's deep blue silence,
Neither there is earth below, nor sky above,
The rustling branches, leaves are saying that only you are here,
Only me, my breath and my heartbeat,
Such deepness, such loneliness and me...only me,
It all makes me believe in my existence.
There was a girl drowning, but she had a smile on her face, the illustration did match my writing. neighther there is earth below, nor the sky above. smart move Mr Park. My poem got selected for the top ten poems of the year. There were incoming calls of congratutions but I was waiting for a certain person. Without wasting another second i called him "Hello?" i sucked in a long breath "you can paint me"
Fuck....fuck...FUCKKKKK, I am crazy very very very crazy WHO SAYS THAT, YOU CAN PAINT ME WTFFFFFFF. Standing infront of his building i was rethinking my decision, but it was too late UGHHHHHH i rang the door bell.
His stares, i remember them, so intense I wonder why, is it because of his profession? his eye shape? or is it just him? "I like you" shit...he stands up which makes me stand up he takestwo quick steps toward me until his hands are in my hair andhis mouth is on mine. He backs me against the wall and his hands and chest andlips are pressed hungrily against mine. He's gripping my facelike he's afraid to let go and I'm fighting for breath becauseit's been so long since I've kissed anyone, I think I may haveforgotten how to do it right. As soon as a whimper leaves my mouth, he's pressing meharder against the wall. His left hand is caressing my cheekand his right hand is gripping me by the waist, pulling meagainst him.
I feel Jimin's arms wrap around me . He rests hischin on my shoulder. "You having second thoughts?"I shake my head. I'm nervous, but I'm definitely not havingsecond thoughts. Yet."Good "
"Im leaving for the airport in two hours, i agreed for the fan meet" i pause to look at him, he is smiling, im happy that he is smiling, " do you want me to drive u?" oh no...my dad he is driving me ." Uhh my dad...he-''. Dissapointment runs across is face, and i needed to leave now, I DONT WANNA GOOOO. He looked so precious looking like a sad puppy, did i ever mention anything about his chubby cheeks THEY LOOK SO FLUFFY NOW THAT MAKE ME WANT TO BITE INTO IT. control..y/n...control.
He stepsback, releasing me. "I should have taken you to the airport andthen as soon as you got to security, I could have dramaticallycalled out your name and run toward you in slow motion." Hemimics the scene in slow motion, moving in place as hereaches an arm out toward me. "Y/NNNNNNNNNNNN," he says in along, drawn-out voice. "Dooon't Leeeave Meeeee!"I'mlaughing hard when he stops acting out the scene and wrapshis arms around my waist again. "I need to go now"
My father grabs our suitcases and head inside withnot much time to spare before our flight. The airport is stillbuzzing despite it being so late at night. we print my boarding pass,check our luggage, and make our way to security.I try not to think about what I'm doing. How am I going to talk to people I dont know with my amazing social skills. The thought of it makes me want tocall a cab and go straight back to my apartment, but I can't.I have to do this.
"Y/NNNNNNNNNN"
My eyes flick open.I turn around and Jimin is standing at the revolving door. Hebegins running toward me.In slow motion.I cover my mouth with my hand and try not to laugh as heslowly stretches out an arm like he's reaching out for me. He'syelling, "Doooon't goooo yeeeet!" as he moves slowlythrough the crowd of people.People from all directions stop to see what the commotion isall about. I want to dig myself a hole and hide but I'mlaughing too hard to care about how embarrassing this is.What in the world is he doing?When he finally reaches me after what seems like forever, ahuge grin spreads across his face soon he presses his lips with mine.
I looked at my father, he's too surprised to even react. The room feels like it's spinning, so I suck in a huge rush ofair and try not to sway. "I forgot to say I like u too" with that he begins to walk backward and I'm aware of everyone in ourvicinity staring at us, but I can't help but not give a shit. Rightbefore he reaches the revolving door, he cups his hands aroundhis mouth and yells "YOU BETTER NOT GHOST ME AFTER U COME BACK"
I don't think I've ever smiled so big. I lift a hand and wavegoodbye as he disappears. "I like him" I look towards my father. "So do I". Going back to the question that i asked myself Would my present be different if i lisened to my mother? Do i want things to be different? I think i like it this way, Everything happens for a reason, you just need to give it a little time for it to fall on the right track anyways I am loving it for now and im living it aswell...
If you have eagerness in your heart, it means you are alive,
If your eyes are filled with dreams, it means you are alive
Learn to be free like the wind,
Learn to flow freely like the river,
Embrace every moment with open arms,
See a new horizon every time with your eyes,
If you carry surprise in your eyes, it means you are alive,
If you have eagerness in your heart, it means you are alive.
And the story continies....
Heyyy I hope you liked the story, feel free to give your opinion on it, this story was inspired by a novel I read on my early teen days, kinda didnt like the way it ended so I made up my own version of it,
Happy reading.
ps: its kinda my first time [HELP (T_T) ]
#bangtan#bts#bangtanboys#btsarmy#funny#jimin#parkjimin#drabbles#oneshot#jiminff#jiminoneshot#btsjimin#btsff#park jimin#jiminbts#jimin x you#jimin x y/n#jimin x reader#insecure reader#road accident#bestboyjimin#poetry#foundlove#fallinginlove#lostjams
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A very short story
Jimin:Y/N..
Y/N:yes,jimin🤨
Jimin:I have feelings for you.🤭🙂(shy)
Y/N:oh! I have feelings for you too.
Jimin:So,what are we?
Y/N:Feelers😏
Jimin:(shocked)😐
#bts#Jimin#jiminff#jimin x reader#btsfunny#y/n#jiminie#BTS funny FF#idol x reader#haegum#set me free jimin pt2#short story#funny#kpop#kpop world#luvly-bunny
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what a time (1/2) | pjm
masterlist
pairing: jimin x reader
genre: fluff
word count: 561
1:11am. for three hours, you’ve been nonstop texting jimin. nobody seemed to want a stop to the conversation, always finding something to talk about. you could talk about anything with him and he’d find it amusing. you loved how you both could be comfortable with each other and smile at the dumbest things.
today, you’d planned to sleep early so that you could wake up for a meetup you and jimin arranged through text. it had been a while since you both went out alone to the park. of course, you both went out with your friend group but you wanted to spend some alone time once in a while.
everyone knew you both had something special, but you didn’t quite know what it was. maybe it was the fact that you guys can’t get enough of each other or maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you were so special he didn’t want to stop admiring you. it always made you feel some type of way but you knew better than to destroy a friendship for something that isn’t even for sure going to last. you pushed it away but you knew deep down you’d never move on if you didn’t get closure. so, you waited for him to initiate anything if he wanted you the way you wanted him. that day didn’t come.
since then, you knew he wasn’t interested in you but your heart still fluttered every time you see him. it’s so damn hard to get over him when he smiles at you or hugs you with such a comforting embrace, and that’s when you knew no matter what you did, you would never find anyone like him.
you and jimin send each other goodnight messages with a cute gif of a bear cuddling his lover, pulling up the bedsheets and turning off the lights. you smile at it and put down your phone as you start to drift off to sleep.
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should i wear this or this? you struggle to find a top that would be perfect for the outing. ultimately, you decide on the one you think jimin would like the most.
you grab your keys and headed out, waiting for jimin’s car to appear near you. once you’ve spotted his gray car, you immediately wave so he knows it’s you. his expression immediately glows and you wonder how he looks so good all the time. he puts his sunglasses on the side and unlocks the door for you. when you get in, he immediately starts driving to the park.
“y/n, you look so good today.” you blush and wonder if he does this with everyone since he’s such a flirt when you’re around. you didn’t want to mistake his actions for something else/
“thank you, you look good too.” as you’re saying it, you could feel your cheeks warm up so you look out the window to hide it.
usually, his comments would feel normal and you wouldn’t make such a big deal out of it. however, he was a bit different today and you couldn’t help but feel something.
as you walk into the restaurant, your eyes immediately light up as you look around you, adoring the fancy decorations. you wondered who would be lucky enough to experience this nearly every day. you were jealous of jimin’s future girlfriend.
#jiminff#jiminfanfic#jiminimagines#jiminfluff#jimin#btsjimin#btsjiminff#pjmff#pjmimagine#pjmfluff#masterlist#btsmasterlist#fluff#jimin x reader#jiminsmut
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~𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙟𝙞𝙢𝙞𝙣 𝙭 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ~
* 𝐈𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐳𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐙𝐞𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐳𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐧 ~ *
ᴀʟs ᴋᴀɴɢ ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ ɪʜʀᴇɴ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍ ᴠᴇʀᴡɪʀᴋʟɪᴄʜᴛᴇ, sɪᴄʜ ᴠᴏɴ ɪʜʀᴇᴍ ᴠᴀᴛᴇʀ ʟᴏs ʀɪss ᴜɴᴅ ɴᴀᴄʜ süᴅᴋᴏʀᴇᴀ ᴢᴏɢ ɴᴀʜᴍ ɪʜʀ ʟᴇʙᴇɴ ᴇɪɴᴇ ᴜɴᴇʀᴡᴀʀᴛᴇᴛ ᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴡᴇɴᴅᴜɴɢ, sɪᴇ ғᴀɴᴅ ɴɪᴄʜᴛ ɴᴜʀ ɴᴇᴜᴇ ғʀᴇᴜɴᴅᴇ ɪɴ ᴅᴇʀ sᴛᴀᴅᴛ ᴡᴇʟᴄʜᴇ ɪʜʀᴇ ᴍᴜᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴢᴜ ʟᴇʙᴢᴇɪᴛᴇɴ sᴏ ɢᴇʟɪᴇʙᴛ ʜᴀᴛᴛᴇ sᴏɴᴅᴇʀɴ ᴀᴜᴄʜ ɪʜʀᴇ ɢʀᴏßᴇ ʟɪᴇʙᴇ ɪɴ ᴇɪɴᴇᴍ ᴡᴇʟᴛᴡᴇɪᴛ ʙᴇʀüʜᴍᴛᴇᴍ ᴋᴘᴏᴘ ɪᴅᴏʟ.
ᴀʟʟᴇs sᴄʜɪᴇɴ sᴏ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴋᴛ ᴜɴᴅ ʀᴜʜɪɢ ᴡɪᴇ ᴅɪᴇ sᴛɪʟʟᴇ ᴠᴏʀ ᴅᴇᴍ sᴛᴜʀᴍ.
ᴜɴᴅ ᴇʀ ᴋᴀᴍ, ᴇɪɴ ʀɪᴇsɪɢᴇʀ sᴛᴜʀᴍ ᴡᴇʟᴄʜᴇʀ ᴀʟʟᴇs ɴɪᴇᴅᴇʀ ғᴇɢᴛᴇ ᴜɴᴅ ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ's ʟᴇʙᴇɴ ᴅʀᴏʜᴛᴇ ᴢᴜsᴀᴍᴍᴇɴ ᴢᴜ ᴋʟᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ.
⁻ ᴺᵃᵐʲⁱⁿ ᴹᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗᵉ
⁻ ʲⁱᵐⁱⁿ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ
⁻ ʰäᵘˢˡⁱᶜʰᵉ ᴳᵉʷᵃˡᵗ
⁻ ᵛˡˡᵗ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵇⁱᵗ ᵒᶠ ˢᵐᵘᵗ
𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩? 𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙞𝙩
ʙʏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ
@ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴʜɪsᴛʜ
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Just The Two Of Us [Author L] | Kim Taehyung
𝐼 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑦𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙
𝑂𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑒𝑤
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠
𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑢𝑛
𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢
𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑜𝑓 𝑢𝑠 ♥
I fell in love with you,
I don't know why,
I don't know how,
I just did.
Tags/Warnings :- An Office Au, Ceo!Taehyung, Secretary!Y/N
A dream-like romance. Cheesy. Highly Romantic.
Written by Author L
Cross posted on Wattpad
Word count :- 365 Words
Index | Next
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♡ 𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓊𝓇 ♡
This is just to give you an insight on what's gonna happen here. These are just my true thoughts here, so bear with me, it's not gonna be poetic.
I've been wanting to write 'Just The Two Of Us' since a long time. It's very close to me because it's my first ever story. Through this story, what I intend to convey is, absolutely nothing. That's right. Absolutely nothing. This story is not one which is a dark/suspense thriller, or one which would inspire you for your next endeavour, or psychologically motivate you. It's rather something that focuses on an emotion. Particularly, the emotions of the characters. I aim to showcase the characters' true, raw feelings about each other.
I usually gravitate towards stories which, to some extent seem realistic and relatable. They must be light, believable and make you, the reader, go through certain feelings without emotionally exhausting you. Unfortunately I couldn't find many works that were convincing enough, logically made sense, and basically, hit me hard. Which is why I set out to write one myself. It does of course have a few fictional elements without which there might be no story.
This story mainly and solely focuses on just the two characters (and a few others) and their feelings for each other. It's basically about two ambiverts who are conscientious, resourceful, firm, slightly egoistic, and quite normal people who happen to realise, discover, and explore the possibility of being in love. It's a dream-like almost magical romance focusing on what I love to call "the butterfly inducing effect". So, get comfy, grab a tub of ice cream, maybe get a few tissues and be prepared to experience romance like no other and fall in love.
❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃
✾✾✾✾��✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾
✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾✾
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𝐻𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔!
~𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎,
𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙻
#taehyung#fluff#angst#romance#taehyungfluff#taehyungceoau#ceo au#taehyungfanfic#softhours#officeromance#bangtanff#jiminff#jimin#bangtan#namjoon#bts#fanfics#jungkook#hobi#seokjin#paris#ratatouille
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it wasn't untill you saw him you started believing in soulmates. Indeed that force , pulling you to that sole , unique existence.
"Hello; what would you like to have sir?"u somehow managed to ask the elegant graceful creature standing before you."Ice tea for one plz."He stared at you for some time , his brown eyes locked with your's , but u were quick to tear ur gaze."Sure sir; will be there in minutes." passing him a smile which he gracefully returned , you worked on his order.You went to his table and placed his order asking"Would you like to have anything else sir ?"."No miss , this is all sufficient". he passed you a warm enchanting smile.flabergasting enough!.Familiarity , the something you felt at the moment , did u know him ?. no ofcourse but still he felt warm. too known to be a stranger?
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NO MORE DRAMA {JJK} - AWAITED PART💟 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1387756230-no-more-drama-jjk-awaited-part%F0%9F%92%9F?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=sa3pdnim&wp_originator=ktEpPv1EpUm%2Fof8MyJZqmH9vhvCtmnJVLcFsyqlNhXdtSlwWl2yNVLiOa0IJKygu6ow55q4me4zcdKwEe5BnZPp2aT%2BKt2NAmGtyku%2Fri11va9hI1cu0BhWTBbqx5XEG Not so simple love story between two couple. 😍 One is Jungkook And Other is yn, Two polar opposites or can say crackhead, how will they melt each other. Let's find out in the drama free story(maybe), but let's be clear...nothing ever goes as planned in this cursed world. 🎭Drama upcoming. (EDITING) #peace out
#arrangemariage#bts#chaelisa#fanfiction#funny#jeonjungkook#jiminff#jjk#jjkxreader#kimtaehyung#kookie#minyn#parkjiminff#seokjin#suga#taekook#books#wattpad#amreading
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Some silly drawings about Johan Nielsen and his hybrids, he Is from Kohaku
🔸IG: _vbtshiroyasha___
🔸Wattpad: _ShiroYasha___
🔸Tiktok: vbtshiroyasha_
🔸Tumblr: vbtshiroyashaa
#clip studio paint#art#digital drawing#alastor#comic art#digital illustration#bts#hazbin alastor#digital art#jiminff#silly
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#POV : Jimin taught you Korean but... (crack)
#kpop#kpopmoodboard#bangtan#btsarmy#bts#bangtanboys#oneshots#funny#writers on tumblr#fanfic#park jimin#jiminff#jimin edit#jimin#bts army#army#pjm
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Watch "Taehyung I don't want to take my eyes off from you🙂🔥 #v #jimin #suga #jk #jhope #jin #bts #taehyung" on YouTube
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caught red handed | pjm
You find Park Jimin, the student president, in a compromised situation after not being able do handle seeing you in your sport shorts.
Word count: 800
Warnings: dub con.
# sub!Jimin, highschool AU, guided masturbation, hand job, cum play, overstimulation, praise kink, corruption kink, mommy kink. THIS IS OLD AF AND UNEDITED don’t judge me 😔
@chimchimcherooo here you go honey <3
"Who would've thought you'd be into this kind of thing."
Jimin breathed through gritted teeth. His face felt hot with embarrassment, you were so close. Your hands were burning over the exposed skin of his belly.
"I-I'm not," he whimpered, "It was an accident-"
You moved your fingers down, smudging the cum between your fingers. "My, Jimin-ssi, I've seen 'accidents' like this before," you said with a grin, "but most people wouldn't come to the school toilets to... handle it."
"W-what do you want from me?" Jimin groaned. Your hand is just too close to his member now.
"I want you to cum again."
"But- but I just-”
You smiled, this time innocent, or so it looked like. "Exactly! It'll be fun, Minnie, or do you want me to go around the schol saying I caught you jerking off to me in my sports uniform?"
Just hearing you say those words sent shivers down his spine. But then you reached for his clothed inner thigh, and Jimin whimpered, the touch was almost there but not quite so. He just wanted you to touch his cock, ‘d feel so good, he was sure. He knew you wouldn’t though, you’d never touch a nerd like him when you had all the bad boys in school eating out of your hand. You were just trying to make fun of him, that’s it.
"You know Minnie, I love wrecking good boys like you,” you moan. "Touch yourself for me."
Sitting on the cubicule, Jimin unziped again his trousers, revealing his already half-hard length. It was covered in cum, just how much did seeing you in shorts make him come? You need to rub your thighs together to soothe the throb between your legs.
"Such a pretty cock, Minnie, the prettiest I've ever seen-"
He looked up at you. "R-really?"
"Oh, really." You knead his sides, straddling his lap, and Jimin sucked in a sharp breath. "I'm dying to see you touch it for me."
Shyly, Jimin grabbed his shaft and started pumping it, letting out whimpers at the pain of stimulation, his first orgasm not quite washed over. You leaned into him to leave bites and pecks over his neck, and he whimpered again, jerking faster despite the pain.
"Such a good boy, minnie," you said breathless.
"M-mommy!" he moaned, "mommy, I-I'm close again! But it hurts-"
You smiled down at him, put out your palm, and spit on it just to shove it down to his cock, taking over the jerking motions. Jimin closed his eyes at the feeling of the foreign contact, wet and warm with your saliva. Shit, he was getting close.
"We'll get caught if you keep making those sounds for mommy, baby boy," you purr to his ear.
He let out another strained moan. "Mommy please! I'm close! Please, I'm close!"
"Come on Minnie, come for mommy, spill yourself all over my hand."
Jimin's hips thrust up into your hand, not enough room to make it feel as good as it could, it was edging him in a way, he wanted to fuck your hand and bottom out but perhaps his cock wasn't long enough.
Jimin moaned against your lips and his hips went still. "C-comming, mama, comming-"
His hot, thick cum spurted onto your fingers as he writhed beneath you, your hand relentlessly pumping his cock to help him ride out his orgasm. Himin whimpered a bit more, his cheeks were pink and so cute, you smooched them.
"T-too much-" he cried.
"You could handle two orgasms," you retorted, "can't you handle one more?"
"No, mommy, please..."
You got off his lap. "All right... But look at the mess you made, be a good boy and lick it clean?" Luckily you didn't mean the cum splattered on the toilet but the cum on your hand, and he nodded and kneeled in front of you to stick out his tongue.
Jimin sucked in your fingers, humming around them and flicking his tongue. You could feel it hot and wet, licking the cum off your digits.
"You look so good right now, baby boy," you sigh, "Wish i could fuck you here with my pussy. Wouldn't you like that?" Shit he would, Jimin stifled a whimper of excitement swallowing down your fingers before he went to lick the back of your hand. "It'd be your first time, wouldn't it? First time your pretty cock'd be inside a pussy, a real one. Bet you know, mine's so wet already, Jiminie, because of you."
With a sweet smile, he looked up at you, nuzzling your hand. He’d let you take his everything, his virginity is yours already. Not that he hadn’t been fucking his cock with his hand to the thought of you fucking him already, why lie?
Y’all lucky I was too shy to post this stuff back in the day. I’m ashamed that this was my writing level while I was an English Studies sophomore :/
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~Up In The Attic~
❀Pairing: hybrid!jimin x human!reader
❀Genre: cat!hybrid, smut >16+<
❀Word Count: 2.8k
❀Summary: Y/n had been taking care of an endearing kitten for about a month, when she finds out there's more to that fluffy calico-like fur than meets the eye.
❀Warning(s): fingering, vulgar language, mentions of begging, hickeys, scratching, cock slut, teasing, hints towards rough fucking, breast play, nipple play, edging.
❀a/n: So I had originally thought of doing a fluff cat-hybrid thing, (because my cat reminds me so much of Jimin as a boyfriend) but as you can tell it got a lil...side-tracked.
❀Date: November 16th, 2021.
"Do we have everything, y/n?"
you had been planning to go on a three-day weekend trip to the mountains for your uncle's work. Your parents had fallen ill at a young age, so you were taken in by your aunt and uncle. Soon, the papers were all signed and you had officially belonged to them. They were now your parents, and for the ongoing 5 years now. You run past the small corridor from your bedroom to the while marbled prestige kitchen. Grabbing the charger and yanking it from the outlet, you quickly run to the car, shoving all of your bags to the left of you. Your uncle chuckles while looking back in the mirror at you being buried by all of your items.
"Are you sure you want to bring all of that, y/n? I told you to pack lightly."
You had packed lightly. But secretly you had brought all of the necessities for a kitten you had met there the last time you went. A small, tri-colored cat had appeared at your window one night while you had been showering. Light scratches at the door had made the little guy very noticeable. Your uncle and aunt had been out to dinner for the night because it was their anniversary. So, you decided to take the kitten in. And ever since, you had been feeding, grooming, and cuddling the little fluff ball for about a month now. Your aunt had given you quite a look when you begged to go to the pet-store. Rumbling through all the shiny, squeaky toys, you had finally gotten what you needed. And now, the journey begins. You lean back, putting in your earbuds, while staring out the window, imaging all the fun things you're going to get to do at the cabin.
Except it hadn't all gone to plan. Your uncle had fumigated the cabin the night before because of some pesky little ladybugs that had crawled their way in. Now, all of your things were covered in plastic wrap. You quickly rush past the large living room with a 13 foot-high ceiling, and a huge 28 foot glass wall that had connected the inside to out. Plopping your bags down next to the old wooden chair, you begin stripping the room of anything and everything kitten-hazardous.
"all done!" you brush your hands off, while looking around the medium sized bedroom at all the hard work you had put in.
"now- they leave at five...so if he comes by at six-thirty-" you begin to plan everything out onto a small tiny crumbled piece of paper.
"until who gets here?"
A familiar voice stops you in your tracks. You aunt had brought some towels in from the guest bathroom, since it was going to be vacant throughout the trip. You push the papers off of the bed, and out of sight before she could read any. She crosses the room towards your bed, and sits herself softly down onto the dark maroon-colored duvets. A slight sigh leaves her chest.
"y/n...we've been noticing your...strange. Behavior." you cock your head towards her direction, taking a seat adjacent to your aunt. A confused but guilty look plastered your face.
"w..what do you mean, mom?" she looks around the room, adorning the arched closet just to the right of the bed. The huge glass wall-window sits on the left of your bedside, while a small animal print rug lays flat against the dark oak stained hardwood floors.
"honey...just-" she stops, bringing her hand up to caress your cheek. "just...be honest, okay?" you nod, as your uncle comes hustling up the stairs, carrying a small diamond-encrusted pocketbook. "let's go, love. The resturant will be closing soon" your aunt stands up, fixes the beautiful purple fish-tailed dress you hadn't had noticed when she had entered the room.
"be safe, y/n. make sure to lock all the doors. love you!"
your uncle yells out while dragging his wife towards the front door. A heavy sigh of relief falls from your lips.
"here kitty kitty kitty~" you push a bowl out the small opening of the attic door. You had been sitting there for over two hours waiting for your precious baby to return. You figured might as well start thinking of names. "Alex..snowflake...snowball...art..ic" A warm inviting sensation overtakes your body, pulling you into a deep sleep.
"y/n? y/n? wake up- y/n?"
a voice echoes through the room. You open your eyes, being met with the bright lights of the moons glistening across the hardwood floors. You shuffle a bit, seeing a small white kitten in the corner of the room, playing with a small ball of something that had been folded. A small giggle rolls off your lips, as you make a tutting sound to call him over. He lifts his head, glancing in your direction, but going back to his previous game. You sluggishly stand up, making your way over to the playful kitten. He had grown a bit since the last encounter.
"aww what are you playing with-"
you bend down, picking up the small crumpled up piece of fabric, recognizing the lace-imprinted patterns.
"hey! you little pervert!~"
He sits up, just letting out a small mewl. You see the shadow of another similar figure blocking the moon's rays.
"daisy?"
An unfamiliar voice echoes through the room.
"daisy? are you in here?"
You turn around, being met with a rock hard chest bumping into your own. You look up, seeing a brown eyed boy, with delicate cream colored skin.. "w..what in the-" he cuts you off.
"oh shi-....y/n??"
he backs up, you now being able to see more of his soft features. Black thick hair rolled down the sides of his face. The glistening of his skin gently across the surface just memorizes you.
"u-uh.." you pause. No coherent sentence was going to be made by you any time soon.
"oh fuck it is you-"
you take a few steps back, seeing him picking up the small calico kitten.
"w..who...who are you and how did you get into my house??" you quickly run over, grabbing a ski pad to defend yourself with. He takes a step closer, whilst still holding the kitten in his hand.
"y/n.. just put the ski down, and let me explain-" the small white kitten had jumped out of his grasp, now a whirl of white dust and specs float through the air, soon stopping as fast as it had begun. A beautiful small 6 year old looking little girl emerges from where the kitten had previously jumped down to. Her skin matching with the strange man's, her eyes having coveted small glistening gold specs. A smile spreads across her face as she runs towards you, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist.
"mommy!" The strange man quickly pulls the small child away, as she tries escaping his grasp to reach towards you. "no!" He lets out a nervous laugh, pulling her further from you.
"i told you that's not your momm-" she breaks free of his grip faster than he could explain the situation. You're frozen for the second time tonight. Who the fuck were these... these things?? She hugs your waist tightly, burring her small nose into your hip. He scratches the back of his neck, while examining the scene.
"She's confused-" "yeah so am I! who the fuck are you people!?" he gulps, while taking a step back. "you just look like her mom" he adds. The same, familiar white dust surrounds the man, as he quickly shrinks down about half his size. The white dust disappears, revealing a small, calico kitten, looking to be much older than the previous one.
"y..you're...the cat that i took care of..." he looks up, and makes a weird mewl towards the little girl, as she whines, transforms and is right by his side. One more small mewl and he transforms back to his original height.
"you've been gone for quite a while now.." he looks down to the small pure white kitten, picks her up, as she cuddles into his chest. how adorable. no! fuck these people just broke into your house! "I'll go take her back, then i can explain everything".
You didn't know what to say, and he hadn't left you the chance even if you wanted to. He quickly disappears into the night, leaving you on the floor questioning life right about now.
____________________________________________________________
"y/n? honey, time to wake up. y/n?" Something shakes you awake. You look around, peeking out of your crusted-shut eyes, seeing you're in your bed. "w..what..what happened?" a groggily moan rolls off your tounge, and out into the atmosphere. "What do you mean? i just came in here to say your father made breakfast." your aunt stands up off of the end of the bed, and shuffles out lf the doorway. You look aroune, seeing everything in it's original spot. The images from the pervious night had flooded your head. You quickly run up the stairs past the kitchen, to the small corridor leading to the attic. You reach for the small string that hangs down, making it easier to open. Right before you can tug at the little string, your uncle calls you back down to eat.
"so I was thinking that we should all go skiing today" your uncle retorts.
"oh that sounds lovely, honey! what do you think, y/n?" you sat there, picking at you eggs and French toast. The thoughts and what little conversation you had had with the man before still lingers in your mind. It wasn't until your father had cleared his throat loudly, while setting down the coffee pot on the kitchen counter. You sit up, your attention now on the startling noise.
"what do you think, y/n?" You hadn't really had thought about the conversation they had been having, so you just do a measly nod, and dump your plate into the sink, walking to your bedroom.
_____________________________________________________________
"goodnight, y/n!" your aunt calls from her bedroom.
"goodnight, mom! sweet dreams, dad!"
he grumbles back, having already been half asleep. You grab a flashlight from the nightstand table on your right, and quietly make your way towards the attic. you step up, looking around the dimly lit un-finished room. Nothing out of the ordinary. A sigh leaves your chest. You turn on your right heel, just as you were about to go to bed for the night, a voice echoes softly through the chilling atmosphere.
"have you been waiting for me?"
his voice sounds very warm and inviting. The soft wind howls right along the side of the house, making a small but peaceful atmosphere. You climb up, quietly making your way over to where the voice had came from.
"Why didn't you come last night like you said you would?"
you feel around for any kind of heat source that might be his. Or at least a damn LIGHTSWITCH. "I did~" his voice had grown near with each passing second.
"You were asleep. So-"
a pair of arms snakes around my waist, as a hot, brush of air rolls down the nape of my neck. His emitting warmth from his body had pulled me to sit. He chuckles, already sensing the power he had over me. "how do you think you gotten in bed?" god. Bed. the way he said it was just- enticing. You could feel a slight stir in your core, like something was waking up inside of you.
"W..why did y-you do th-that"
the small breaths he had been taking in were just agonizing to you. He shifts slightly, pulling you to sit between his legs. He drags his index finger gently across the surface of your skin, drawing tiny figure eights with the pad.
"Because-" he leans down even more, his soft, plush-like lips graze over your virgin skin of your neck.
"I couldn't let you sleepy here all alone, could I? what would your parents have to say?"
A small moans escapes your lips, as you quickly cover your mouth. Small fits of chuckles brush past your arm. 'cute" he replies. You subconsciously cuddle up closer to his chest, laying all of your weight against his. His hand now trails down the side of your hip, teasing the small dips between.
"S-so...what are you?"
he stops his movements, cocking his head to the side to face yours.
"do you want the long story or the short story?"
Long? Oh fuck, just imagining his sliding deep against your walls, as you moan out loudly while he has a hand covered against your mouth to suppress what little dignity you had left. The grunts he would make while thrusting his hips against yours, ever inch of his long girthy length just splits you wide open, him having you pressed against the wall, every cell in your body his for the taking.
"y/n?"
He questions, while you get pulled from your fantasy land. "y-yeah?" great, a fucking stutter. way to go, y/n. He chuckles, taking in a small whiff of your scent.
"are you horny right now?"
He asks as if he's telling one of his friends if they want to go bowling with them on Friday night. A light moan rolls past your tounge. He chuckles, while resuming his movements against your skin. Gently, the pad of his index finger burns the surface of your skin. What the hell was this feeling? You've been horny before with previous partners but..this? this was pure flith.
"I know I get humans horny but not this much~" he teases.
"f-fuck you" you release, while holding onto his arm from the amount of pressure in the air.
"Oh really?~ You sure your want that, sweetheart? For your family to hear how much of slut you are for my cock? Them hearing who's fucking their innocent little girl? Making her scream another man's name. For them to hear your whiny ass begging for my hard cock to just fuck you into tommorow. Fuck, you want the whole neighborhood to hear how much pleasure I'm giving you? You want my lips wrapped around your tight little cunt, while you beg to cum? You want that baby?"
You hadn't even noticed how your nails had begin to dig into the flesh of his thigh, moans growing louder by the second. A smirk presses against his lips, as his right hand dips into the opening of your pajama pants, his digits start moving in circles against your bulb. Small, muffled moans threaten to escape your throat as your throw your head back against his chest. His free hand slithering it's way up to your breast, cupping it gently, while rolling the nub gently between his two fingers.
"oh fuck-" You whine, arching your back from the pure pleasure you're getting. A pair of soft, moist lips leans down to the base of your neck, licking a strip up towards your jawline, before lightly sucking on the thin skin. Your eyes had now rolled to the back of your head, as your legs start twitching from the stimulation. This was pure bliss. The rises and falls of his chest against your back, and rock hard object your could feeling pocking at your butt, the way his middle finger teases your entrance slightly pushing the tip in, only to be yanked right back out.
"i-im gunn..ah..-"
You're right on the edge, you could practically see the climax cliff. His finger than had been working your core, fastened.
"oH fuck!" you yelp out, knowing damn well that your aunt and uncle heard. But you didn't care. You only wanted one thing. And that was to-
"nuh uh~"
his voice brushes gently against your ear, as all of the pleasure just stops. You turn around, seeing his bring his two fingers to his mouth, sucking on the leftovers of your juices.
"what the fuck?!" a smirk presses against his lips. He stands up, brushing himself off, while you're just sitting there confused as hell. he crouches down to your level, whispering softly into your ear.
"I can't let you have all the fun, now can I?" he walks towards the window, and sits on the edge, as he prepares to jump down.
"sweet dreams, darling~"
he smirks, turns, and hops down. Who the fuck was he? You hadn't even gotten a name! Who was the little cat-girl..daughter..kid with him, and WHY was he messing with you?? You sit there, processing what the fuck had just happened when-
"y/n!? what the hell!?!" you look to see your aunt and uncle standing above you, looking down at the wet stop that had stained the antique rug. One thing's for sure. You we're gunna be in a whole lot of shit tonight.
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